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literatureatthebowofnails · 6 months

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I would love to see something for excerpts for Odin's A+ Parenting Playbook.

Thank you so, so much for this ask, buttercupcookies!

This piece is for my 100 Followers + 34th Birthday Party. Please consider making further requests! These events only work when there's reader participation.

Midgardians say "Children are like pancakes; you always mess up the first one."

I'm unfamiliar with pancakes, and I have no knowlege of servant's duties, but it sounds as though pancakes are both disposable and of minimal value. Therefore, I must agree with the assessment that children are indeed like pancakes.

One must consider that for a king, children require minimal effort to create. It takes but a single act to get a child upon a queen, or for that matter any woman. In the event a king is unable to do so, it is just as simple to slaughter a race, invade a sacred place of worship and kidnap save an infant doomed to die of exposure. A death which the infant or the infant's parents were surely the cause of, and which had nothing at all to do with the recent actions of the king.

🏰

Raising an only child has its benefits, though raising siblings together presents significant, distinct rewards.

When a king has but a single child, he can mold that offspring into a weapon of war. Together they shall lead campaigns throughout the Nine Realms, pillage and plunder every worthless little civilization, hoarding resource for themselves and leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

All shall worship a king who has but one heir. All, unfortunately, but the heir.

I've learned over my many centuries that it's rather difficult to prevent an only child from becoming narsisistic. Particularly when the child is a princess of Asgard and the goddess of death.

We are all bound to make mistakes; it is how we right those wrongs that truly matters.

As stated previously, children are like pancakes. Having learned more about the lower lifeforms that inhabit Midgard, it seems the ideal method of addressing damaged pancakes is to have a servant throw them out.

By such reasoning, I ordered an elite force of warriors to imprison Hela so I never had to think about her again. She killed the entire batallion, and I must continuously siphon my power to maintain her imprisonment, but it's a small price to pay to keep her a secret and avoid awkward conversations, such as "what world will we ravage next?" and "why didn't you tell us we have a sister?"

🏰

I started anew; fresh, with a son. And though I told Hela I no longer wished to fight wars or commit genocide, old patterns oft maintain themselves. Jotunheim began an ice age on Midgard, and it was a perfect excuse to put the Frost Giants in their place.

What's more, I obtained a tiny baby icicle to take home as a little brother for Thor. My new eldest was very young, so we told him all babies come from Jotunheim. I don't believe we ever got around to correcting that story...

As is custom, Frigga and I had received the birth and anointing announcements for Laufey's son. Thus, having slaughtered the child's mother and left his father dying in ruins of what had been a grand castle but days before, I decided to keep the child's name.

This served two purposes: I didn't have to come up with another name, and when I needed a bargaining chip in the future, Laufey would recognize it as his child, despite Loki's Asgardian appearance.

🏰

When raising children together, one must always choose a favorite. For me, Thor was the obvious choice; he wasn't adopted or a monster.

A king must ensure not just his children, but all his subjects know which is the better child. Then courtiers might know one child is greater in every way; that despite brutish, stubborn incompetence, he deserves to inherit the throne, whatever the cost to the realm.

One may even do this subtly, by having the favorite child served first at dinner, always giving them better toys, or in the way they speak to their children.

Try these examples:

"Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings." Simply growling when the lesser child tries to speak. Avoiding sleep until your adopted child has an exestential crisis, then choosing that very moment to take a nap. Remember, awkward conversations with children should be avoided at all costs. Putting a spell on a hammer in front of your adopted child, ensurring only people you consider worthy can pick it up. Your adopted child, by default, will never be worthy.

Each of these examples instills your favoritism, while simotaneously suggesting that you're simply parenting and governing, in a fair and reasonable manner.

Thank all for reading and please continue to send in requests for my 100 Followers + 34th Birthday Party!...going on until 11:59 PM CST November 22. These are just a few excerpts from the A+ Parenting Handbook. There are many more passages, which I'd be happy to write!

Would you like to read more? Check out my masterlist!

Tag list (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed):

@peaches1958, @javagirl328, @loopsisloops, @goblingirlsarah, @buttercupcookies-blog, @cakesandtom, @ladymischief11, @km-ffluv, @coldnique, @glitterylokislut , @eleniblue, @lokiprompts, @lokisgoodgirl, @muddyorbsblr, @princess-ofthe-pages @jennyggggrrr

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heeheeihatemyself · 1 year

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My parents don’t like spending money on me. That’s a fact I’ve grown up with, and yet sometimes it still surprises me to this day. Of course saving money isn’t a bad thing, and I recognise that they’re doing it for my own good. But I also can’t help how I feel. I remember, when I was a child, my parents didn’t like buying me toys. It was mostly once a year, for Christmas, that they would buy each of us one toy. I liked toys like LPS and Sylvanian Families, toys that were too expensive in my parents’ eyes. So I only ever had a few of them. And to supplement my lack of toys I’d go around collecting small knick knacks that I thought I could possibly use as a toy. I used glue sticks, nail polish bottles, empty candy bottles, erasers, just a mishmash of trash nobody wanted. I used those as toys and imagined them as characters that looked like something other than a chipped nail polish bottle. Now, my baby cousins have 2 or 3 times the number of toys I had. They’re actual toys too, not just rubbish lying around. I can’t help but be jealous of them. Because when I was their age I imagined having what they have now, and knew it would only be a dream. When I went to Primary School my uniform was basically all hand me downs. Hand me down PE T Shirts, faded pinafores, loose socks, dirty textbooks, all the stuff my sister didn’t need anymore. Looking around at my classmates, with their new shiny books and stationary that my parents would never buy me because there was no need, I felt ashamed. To me, having old books meant keeping them as soon as possible, shielding the blemished pages from others’ eyes. But now people actually want to have old books, because they can get annotations and answers. My mom buys my sister new clothes almost every month. They always invite me to go shopping with them. It’s not really shopping anymore, I just follow them around as they visit stores and my sister gets piece, after piece. If I’m lucky I might find a Tshirt that my mom will get me. I’ve been wearing the same clothes for around 4-5 years now. For my birthday present I asked for a keyboard. An actual mechanical keyboard that would cost around 2-3 hundred dollars. I knew it was expensive, but i thought since it would be my sixteenth birthday, and I never really asked for such an expensive gift before it would be fine. My mom went on Shopee to search for it. All low quality stuff that might even be a scam. That’s when I knew I was dumb for asking for it. I also asked her for a figurine that was around 90 dollars. Of course, I got rejected even after building up the courage to ask for almost a week now. I understand it’s hard earned money. But most of the time it just feels like no one wants to waste their effort on me.

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sroloc--elbisivni · 2 years

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TF fic: Metamorphosis

“I’m very mature,” Chip protested. “This is just like the work I’ve already been doing, except it’ll be further away and they’ll pay my room and board on top of the consulting fees.”

“And there could be evil robots lurking around waiting for a chance to shoot at your workplace,” his mom said, tartly.

“I really think you’re focusing too much on the evil robots.”

Or: Chip Chase gets a job, makes some friends, and conducts an ongoing cost/benefit analysis on continuing to engage with the human race. Y'know, normal teen stuff.

hey, it’s the Chip backstory fic for mushroomverse I’ve been threatening for months! I had to go read computer programming journals from 1978 for this and it wasn’t even relevant after the first paragraph. I’m proud of this thing, but it got long, so only the first chunk is under the cut.

ao3

When Chip was sixteen, he’d been in his mom’s office at her school, reading through a paper someone had sent her about the power plant being built out on the coast. They’d been discussing the problem of switching from coal power to hydro-electric, and the challenges of scaling power flow regulation to the infinitely more variable tidal changes. Chip had read another paper a few months ago about streamlining data tables into decision trees in Communications of the Association for Computing Machinery that seemed like it could apply to the problem, so for fun, he spent an hour with books on tidal movements in the library until he’d cobbled together a practice data table. When the big industrial computers were free, he’d used the time to type up a sample, notating the code with helpful [APPLY ELECTRICAL FUNCTION HERE] where it seemed like you’d need to actually affect the code of a power plant. Then he’d put the whole thing on a floppy disk, looked up the address in government records, and mailed it off along with an explanatory note before his mother finished her office hours and it was time to go home.

Chip had forgotten about the whole thing for the next few weeks, until a letter had arrived via certified mail addressed to Mr. Chip Chase, thanking him for his program suggestions. The systems programmers had looked it over and believed it would be a vast improvement on their current practice. Would he be willing to come along and consult on the installation? He would, of course, be paid for his time.

Dr. Charles Chase was on sabbatical this semester, so Chip went into the office to ask if it would be possible for him to give Chip a ride out to the coast in a week or so. His dad, clearly immersed in the Byzantines, agreed before coming back to the present long enough to ask “Why?”

“They want to pay me for my time,” Chip said, because he wasn’t sure the explanation would be interesting enough to hold his father’s attention when competing with Ancient Istanbul.

“Well, that’s good. Know your worth.”

What Chip was worth, apparently, was $9.35 an hour, which felt like way too much money on top of being handed permission to mess with and add to the capabilities of a huge computer system he’d never gotten to play with before. But he’d played too many rounds of poker with his siblings to turn down money when it was being offered to him so he just said thank you and tried to do $9.35 an hour work.

It must have been worth it, because a few weeks after that job finished up he got a call from that plant again. One of the programmers he’d worked with knew someone who was conducting a similar project out in Chip’s neck of the woods. Would he be interested in helping with that, too?

By April of 1980, six months shy of his eighteenth birthday, Chip had built up a solid reputation as a systems programmer for various large plants and manufactories around Northern California. He was making enough to be able to pay his older sister to drive him to places when their dad went back to work, and to invest in new editions of his favorite tabletop games, and even to pay for most of his very own personal computer.

And then there was a volcanic eruption, and aliens, and someone Chip knew in the federal government mentioned that they were helping co-construct a power plant to offset some of their energy needs. And, well. Since that was Chip’s specialty, he put in an application. He got a call from someone who introduced himself as Prowl and only spent five minutes quizzing Chip on his systems experience instead of the solid hour of doubt Chip was used to getting from new employers before informing him that someone would call him for a second interview shortly.

As soon as he hung up, Chip whooped in delight loud enough to startle the flock of crows outside his window into taking flight.

Chip’s parents had been much less thrilled about him moving two whole states away to go work with aliens.

“Look, they’re perfectly safe,” Chip had said. “All the geologists agree they weren’t the ones who made the volcano go off. It isn’t their fault they were under it.”

“We’re not exactly worried about another volcano, Chip,” his mother had said. “Maybe the robots that regularly attack these robots. But even that aside, you’re young to go that far from home.”

“I’m seventeen,” Chip reminded them, exasperated. “Plenty of guys my age go to college across the country, or join the military.”

“We know, we teach them,” his dad said, voice very dry. “That’s not an endorsement.”

“I’m very mature,” Chip protested. “This is just like the work I’ve already been doing, except it’ll be further away and they’ll pay my room and board on top of the consulting fees.” He didn’t point out that he had enough saved from consulting that he could’ve bought himself a bus ticket and just gone on his own. He had a feeling that wouldn’t make them any more inclined to agree.

“And there could be evil robots lurking around for a chance to shoot at your workplace,” his mom said, tartly.

“I really think you’re focusing too much on the evil robots.”

What ended up winning his case was not actually any of his well-reasoned arguments but Naomi Witwicky. Her husband had been Chip’s second interview, over the phone, but Naomi came down in person from Oregon to meet with Chip’s parents, wearing a smart navy blazer like a visiting professor.

She had assured Chip’s openly skeptical mother and stone-faced father that she and her husband would be happy to board Chip at the house they were buying in Longview, Washington, that her husband had known the Autobots for several weeks already and trusted them completely, that she had a son only a few years older than Chip who had moved away himself to work for an old family friend so she understood the importance of having people you trusted near your kids.

“Well,” Chip’s dad had said, “That’s all good to know, but I’m sure you understand that we have...some extra reasons to be worried about Chip.” Like Chip hadn’t been in the room with him.

“Dad,” Chip had hissed. He’d had polio. He wasn’t even sick anymore, and people had been treating polio for years. It wasn’t like this was the 1920s, for cripes’ sake.

“I do understand,” Ms. Witwicky had said. “But Chip strikes me as a sharp young man who knows what he’s about.” Her mouth quirked as she took another sip of his mom’s terrible coffee without flinching. “Besides. I can assure you the workplace will be fully accessible to wheeled transportation.”

Chip decided he liked her.

#sroloc writes stuff #is this transformers #maccadams #chip chase #mushroomverse #transformers fanfiction #transformers g1

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chilling-seavey · 4 years

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Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Two

A/N I originally planned this novel in two parts and this chapter would be the end of part one ;)

Wednesday, January 1st, 2020

Florence could hardly sleep on the last night of 2019. She found herself thinking about how much had changed that year as she laid alone in her queen size bed as the time passed midnight. Had it already been a year since Clementine was born? The year had really gone by fast.

When it was almost two am and sleep still hadn’t come, Florence climbed out of bed and walked quietly down the hallway, led by the city lights pooling through the living room windows. The nursery door was always kept a bit open and she stepped inside, taking a moment to watch the now one year old sleeping peacefully in her crib. Florence finally bent over and picked her up. Clementine stirred but easily rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, her arms draped around her neck as she was carried back to the master bedroom.

The fairy lights that were twisted around the headboard lit up the warm bed, the baby tucked safely into the blankets, framed on one side by a pillow with her mother on the other. Florence watched her daughter sleep, brushing her fingertips through her soft blonde hair. At six minutes past 3am, Florence finally fell asleep, comforted by the presence of her sweet lifeline.

Callum came over to the apartment early in the morning, loaded with party supplies and gifts for the birthday girl. The party was to be set up in the social room of the apartment building, a small ballroom overlooking the nearby park. Michael and Luke showed up early to help put everything together, arranging tables as Callum and Florence set up the decorations. Emilio and Ivan showed up next. Emilio greeted her with a kiss to her cheek before he was turning to Clementine who was wobbling around the room, a helium balloon tied loosely to her wrist to keep track of her.

Callum set a few empty plastic bowls and bags of chips on the decorated snack table. Florence joined him, whispering a quick, “Matt’s coming to the party.”

A few chips flew onto the table as Callum’s shock made him rip the bag as he tried to open it.

“No, he’s not.” Callum said through his teeth, emptying a chip bag into a bowl.

“Yes, he is. We met up a few weeks ago and he’s doing so much better so I offered.”

“We’re not doing this again, Florence.”

“Nothing is going to happen. I’m so far past that part of my life. I promise you.” Florence turned to her brother. “This is probably the last time he’ll see Clementine ever. I need to you to be nice.”

“Maybe he should have done that first.”

“Callum. Please. You don’t have to even talk to him just don’t start shit.” Florence frowned. “It’s your niece’s first birthday, let’s just be calm about this please.”

“Fine.” Callum grumbled, shoving the empty snack bags into a garbage bag before walking off to the other side of the room to set up the gift table. Florence let out a small sigh of relief at how well that conversation had gone over. She couldn’t deny that she emotionally needed the approval of her twin brother for literally everything.

Guests started to show up around eleven, Matt being one of the first surprisingly. Callum avoided eye contact at all costs, focussing on Ivan’s comforting company as his twin sister went to say hello.

Connor came with the Clifford’s to help set up and Aidan came later with Jonah, Jack, Zach, and Corbyn. Daniel was still in Vancouver. Florence expected at least a text for Clementine’s birthday, but it was still radio silence from his end. Even Grayson managed to show up after everything they had been through. Of course, he wasn’t a fan of Matt being there either.

“What’s he doing here?” Grayson asked dryly as Florence passed a wiggling Clementine into his arms. The little girl cuddled into him.

“Just here to celebrate her birthday.” Florence shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at Matt who was pretty much sitting by himself. She turned back to Grayson. “He’s doing better so I invited him.”

“Did you pat him down to check if he brought in any alcohol?”

“Grayson, stop that.” Florence sighed.

“If he tries something, you tell me.”

“What are you going to do? Beat him up at a baby’s first birthday party?”

Grayson couldn’t help but crack a smile at the ridiculousness of it all. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“I know how to handle him now.” Florence tisked. “Now go help yourself to some lunch.”

She watched as he headed for the food table, Clementine perched happily on his hip. The birthday girl babbled excitedly to him as he offered her a potato chip.

Florence took that time to look around the small room that was filled with their little group of friends and family. Clementine was loving the attention. The little girl was absolutely spoiled as the present table was piled high with brightly wrapped gifts.

Florence actually managed to forget her stress and enjoy herself too, that was until the movement of someone walking through the double doors had her whole mood change.

Daniel stood in the doorway nervously, swaying lightly under Florence’s startled and yet expressionless stare. He had his hands in the pockets of his long black trench coat, a black button up and black jeans on underneath, his brown boots completing the neutral look. After a moment of silence only between the two as the party went on behind them, Daniel made his way over to her. He held a small, flat wrapped package in his hand and he tapped it nervously against his fingers.

“I thought you weren’t back from Vancouver until the 4th.” Florence spoke dryly once he stopped in front of her, keeping a good three feet between them.

“How could I miss Clementine’s first birthday?” Daniel said, cracking a small smile and hiding it by looking to the ground.

Florence didn’t answer. Daniel looked past her to where Clementine was across the room with Grayson and Connor, the boys running around in small circles and she ran after them trying to catch them, shrieking happily.

“You didn’t tell me she’s walking now.” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the one year old.

“We’re not friends anymore, remember?” Florence answered quietly.

“Flora, I-“

He was cut off by Clementine waddling messily over to the two of them, attaching herself to her mother’s legs. The little girl’s blue eyes stared up at Daniel under wispy blonde bangs. He bent down in front of her, admiring the not-so-little baby he had watched grow up.

“Hi, Clem.” Daniel greeted her quietly, “Happy birthday.”

“Dada.” Clementine smiled shyly, reaching one tiny hand towards him.

“Still haven’t learned, have you, little miss?” Daniel whispered, pressing his index finger into her outstretched palm. “I’m not dada.”

She wrapped her fingers around his one and he kissed her hand before holding out the small package that was wrapped in bright orange paper to her.

“I have a present for you.” he said gently, smiling as the little girl shrieked in content, reaching for it with two hands.

“We’ll put it on the table, won’t we, Clemmy?” Florence mumbled, taking it gently from her. Daniel stood up as Florence picked up the birthday girl, setting her on her hip. His silent gaze followed them to the table by the wall that held numerous wrapped presents on top of a soft lace tablecloth. He admired their matching light orange pants, white blouses, and brown flats, Clementine’s thin hair tied back with a small bow.

People were looking at him and he could feel it. His best friends sat around a table across the room and Daniel could feel their eyes on him but no one made a move to speak to him. Florence returned to her spot in front of him moments later, Clementine still in her arms. The one year old kept her wide blue eyes on the boy in front of them.

Daniel cleared his throat nervously, his eyes falling to the ground before looking back up at Florence. “I wanted to go and talk with you. If I could.”

The humourless chuckle that fell from her lips sent a chill through the room.

“Please.” Daniel whispered.

“After the party, okay? I’m not going to just leave.” Florence said plainly.

“It’ll be quick.” Daniel said as strongly as he could.

She sighed.

“Please, Flora.”

Florence sighed but nodded, “Give me a second.”

She carried Clementine over to Callum, sitting her on his lap without a word. Her brother watched his strangely silent sister walk away. Florence grabbed her jacket from the rack by the door and zipped it up, glancing at Daniel who joined her, gesturing her out before him.

The cold winter weather wasn’t overly bitter but enough that it was a drastic change from the indoors. Florence crossed her arms over her chest both defensively and in order to try and keep warm as they started walking. Daniel stared at the ground. The snow crunched under their feet, masking the tense silence that lingered between them. They approached the park across the street and made their way down the short path next to the large, old style building. As time passed, Florence was getting more and more upset at him. He invited her out of her daughter’s first birthday party to talk about who-knows-what and yet he was staying silent like an idiot as if he expected her to speak first. She couldn’t keep her scoff to herself.

“Sorry, I just-“ Daniel sighed, finally looking at her. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“Then why did you make me come here?” Florence rolled her eyes.

Daniel looked back to the ground.

“This is stupid.” Florence mumbled to herself and started to walk back towards the apartment building.

Daniel grabbed her arm, stopping her, “No. Wait. Please.”

“Then start talking, Daniel. I’m not going to stand here in the freezing cold for fuck all.” Florence snapped.

“Sit.” Daniel gently pulled her over to a bench. He brushed the snow off before he sat down, giving her more than half of the bench to herself. Florence slowly sat next to him, a good foot between them.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” Daniel started, his voice a gentle whisper.

“Wow. Thanks.” Florence nodded, staring out at the park.

“I know that what I said hurt you. I was trying to put myself first for once and I went about it all wrong.”

“You could have talked to me instead of cutting me off.”

“I know. So that’s why I’m sorry. Really, so sorry.” Daniel watched her helplessly, waiting for any sort of response out of her.

Florence merely sighed, finally meeting his gaze, her eyes squinting in the sun reflecting off the snow. “You kinda broke my heart.”

Daniel felt like the wind was knocked out of him at that statement. “I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t want to say it’s okay because it’s really not.” Florence let out a humourless laugh. “But thank you for saying that.”

Daniel hesitated but nodded once. They fell into silence for a few long seconds.

“I’m sorry too.” Florence said. “For making you feel like your only option was to cut me out.”

“Flora-“

“I’m still trying to figure out a good balance between being a mom and still being a kid myself and I guess I just went about it wrong. I didn’t mean to constantly push Clementine onto you like that.”

“You know I never mind having her around. I just missed when you would come over too. I felt like a babysitting service rather than her best friend.”

“I think Jack’s her new best friend.” Florence chuckled lightly, breaking the tense situation. “His name is literally all she says ever.”

“Yeah,” Daniel laughed, “I’ll have a talk with him about that.”

The two smiled to themselves at opposite sides of the bench.

“So we’re friends again?” Florence asked.

“I hope so.” Daniel looked to her. “It might be weird at first...it’s been so long.”

She scooted closer to him and linked her arm through his.

“It’s okay.” Florence whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I just missed being around you.”

“I missed you too.” Daniel mumbled, tugging the sleeves of his jacket over his hands. They watched people walk by in silence; little children making snowmen and their parents standing by talking with coffee in hand. A young man was throwing a ball for his dog who ran manically through the snow, tearing up white with his paws. The wispy wind was turning the tips of their noses pink, the cool air refreshing on their lungs.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Florence asked after another minute or so.

“N-No.” Daniel sighed.

“Well spit it out.” Florence nudged him playfully.

“Remember Corbyn’s birthday?”

“November 25th.” Florence said.

“His birthday celebration.” Daniel rolled his eyes at her statement.

“Mhm.” Florence nodded, moving back from his shoulder so she could look at him, her hand still loosely resting on his arm.

“You know how I had that...uh...” Daniel pointed to his neck, the pink of his cheeks darkening.

“The hickey.” Florence forced a small chuckle, “Yeah.”

“Do you know who gave it to me?”

“No. And I don’t really want to know.” Florence mumbled nervously.

“Yeah. You do.”

“No. I don’t.” Florence shook her head, the same strange feeling of jealousy bubbling up in her stomach again. “I don’t need to know which random club bitch you almost hooked up with.”

Daniel sighed, “Don’t say it like that.”

“Why?” Florence said awkwardly.

“Just…I don’t know. Never mind.” Daniel shrugged. Florence let her gaze linger on him as he stared at the ground, his hands folded together on his lap. The two sat in silence for a few long seconds, Florence gently gripping the soft material of his sleeve in her hand.

“We should head back.” Florence whispered. Daniel merely nodded.

The two got up from the bench and headed back towards the apartment. The heat pumping through the interior of the building relaxed the two chilled friends. That was, until they approached the small social room on the sixth floor, the double doors open wide and a loud argument occurring inside. Daniel and Florence stopped in the doorway for a moment in shock, watching Emilio and Grayson argue in the middle of the room. Corbyn and Ivan were with them, trying to push them away from each other.

“It never fucking ends.” Florence grumbled, walking briskly away from Daniel to where the commotion was going on. He followed her slowly, standing closer to the rest of his friends who were still sitting at their table. Clementine reached for him from Jack’s lap and he picked her up, not taking his eyes off the argument that was happening a few feet away.

“What is going on?” Florence asked sharply, shoving Emilio back who was getting too close to Grayson for comfort with a finger pushed into his chest.

“He was saying he came here only because you two were getting back together.” Emilio said loudly, his accent thick through his angry words.

“I did not say that!” Grayson retorted sharply. “I was saying I would be better for her than you because I can actually defend her against him.” Grayson pointed a few feet away to where Matt stood behind Corbyn, his arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows furrowed.

“Grayson.” Florence said through her teeth.

“She doesn’t need your help! She’s fine!” Emilio said.

“She doesn’t need your help either. All you do is jump off buildings and act like a fucking child all the damn time. You think Clementine should be brought up around that bullshit?” Grayson retorted.

“At least I have more than my damn money to offer her.” Emilio spat. “At least with me she knows what living is.”

“Excuse me?” Grayson gaped, taking a step towards him.

“You heard me.” Emilio said.

“Emilio, back away.” Ivan ordered, a hand on his brother’s chest to keep him from lunging at Grayson.

“She clearly came to me because you weren’t good enough.” Emilio spat, his light eyes dark with emotion.

“Fuck you, man.” Grayson scoffed. “Go back to Spain or wherever the fuck you came from. So much trouble would have been avoided if you just weren’t here.”

“She still would have dropped you either way.”

“Pare, Emilio, no merece la pena.” Ivan whispered sharply, trying to get his brother to calm down.

Emilio didn’t listen, “Why’d she have to come to me if you were so great to her?”

“Guys.” Corbyn raised his hands between them. “This really isn’t the time or place.”

Ignoring him, Grayson continued, “I’m the one who got her that job, I’m the one who send that asshole packing,” he pointed to Matt again who visibly scoffed, “and I’m the one she wanted to take home for Christmas originally so fuck you.”

Florence stood between the two of them, her wide eyes flicking back and forth with each insult thrown. Emilio was fast with the comebacks, pushing against his twin brother’s grasp to try and take a leap at Grayson. Florence felt her heart beat hard in her chest; what a mess she had made. Corbyn stood slightly in front of her, grabbing the sleeve of Grayson’s white jacket.

“Guys.” Florence spoke as strongly as she could. She could feel tears welling in her eyes and she looked across the room to her twin brother who was sitting at the next table. He watched her with a worried expression.

“Guys.” Florence spoke louder, breaking the two men from their argument. They both looked to her as if forgetting she was even there. “I need to say something.”

The room was held in silence, everyone with their eyes on the girl as she took a few trembling breaths. The four in front of her could see the tears clouding her vision and a single tear fell down her cheek as she spoke to the floor,

“I’m pregnant.”

A cloud of tension settled over the room but not one party guest broke the silence. Grayson and Emilio looked to each other with mere surprise, their anger virtually disappeared by that statement. Matt, who was stood behind the small group, let his mouth fall open in shock and Callum, a few feet away, pressed a hand to his mouth in a similar fashion.

Daniel stood across the room, his heart in his throat. His shocked and frightened gaze fell to Corbyn who was looking back at him with an unreadable expression.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #wdw #why dont we #jonah marais #jack avery #zach herorn #corbyn besson #wdw fanfic #college!wdw #martinez twins #ivan martinez #martinator #emilio martinez #why dont we fanfic #why dont we imagines #writing #anything but mine #daniel seavey imagines

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outonscreen · 4 years

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Children are in every case more difficulty than you suspected - and increasingly superb. (Charles Osgood)

Beginning today, it is me who'll choose when we find a workable pace! - baby

Individuals who state, they rest soundly, as a rule don't have one. (Leo Burke)

Turning into a dad is sufficiently simple, however being one can be extremely unpleasant. (Wilhelm Busch)

Having a baby resembles taking your lower lip and driving it over your head. (Ditty Burnett)

A soul resembles a baby. It needs to rest before you can. (obscure)

There's this young lady who won my love... She calls me Daddy! (obscure)

Life doesn't get more genuine than having an infant at home. (Eric Church)

I have surrendered single-life and have moved to a common loft - I like it there! - baby

Today I have withdrawn from my studio loft and have moved in with my folks. - baby

My mom experienced a lot of difficulty with me. In any case, I think she delighted in it. (Imprint Twain)

A little child can accomplish more in one unaided minute than the vast majority can do throughout the day...

painted layout with baby things and clever baby quote about pacifiers

interesting infant quote

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Child rearing without a comical inclination resembles being a bookkeeper who sucks at math. (obscure)

Your home has quite recently been developed... by 2 feet. (obscure)

Great mothers have clingy floors, chaotic kitchens, clothing heaps, grimy stoves and glad children. (obscure)

My fingers might be little, yet I have daddy (mother, my folks) folded over them. (obscure)

There is just a single beautiful kid on the planet - and each mother has it! (Chinese precept)

Having another baby resembles abruptly getting the world's most noticeably awful flat mate. (Anne Lamott)

Despite the fact that there are numerous preliminary relationships there is nothing of the sort as a preliminary kid. (Gail Sheehy)

For a younger sibling or sibling:

In the treats of life, sisters/siblings are the chocolate chips. (obscure)

little child young lady carefully holding and kissing her infant sister with kin quote

this is love...

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Utilize These Humorous Newborn Quotes And Messages For:

These new baby expressions are incredible for use in your baby praise cards or baby shower cards. They make the unexperienced parents grin and you can keep in touch with them together with some close to home sentences for the new family.

(Another) parent may get a kick out of the chance to record them as a baby declaration message, in a photograph collection or in a family scrapbook. What's more, they make pleasant nursery divider workmanship, as well.

Clever Baby Quotes For Twins:

It's twofold the snickers and twofold the smiles, and twofold the difficulty, in case you're honored with twins. (unkown)

There are two things in life for which we are rarely really arranged: twins.

(Josh Billings)

youtube

"Is it true that they are twins?" - " No, I discovered the additional child in the parking area and thought why not?"

"Are they twins?" - " No, it was get one, get one free..."

"Are they twins?" - " No they are triplets. I simply leave the terrible one at home."

Indeed, they are twins - and truly, I am drained.

At the point when God sees a face he loves, he makes it twice!

Twins: brought into the world with a closest companion! (obscure)

Not twofold difficulty, however twice honored! (obscure)

A decent neighbor will babysit. An extraordinary neighbor will babysit twins! (obscure)

Twins: two extraordinary spirits joined by birth. (obscure)

Baby twins: brought into the world together, become together - companions until the end of time! (obscure)

Twins, two at the cost of one? No, two at the cost of two. The main thing they will share is the uterus and their birthday!

You used to have time. Presently you have twins! (obscure)

On your twin birth declaration:

We used to have time. Presently we have twins!

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acuppellarp · 5 years

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Welcome (again) to A Cup-pella, Morgan! We’re excited to have you and Sandy Owen in the game! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Morgan + she/her Age: 26 Timezone: EST Ships: Sandy/Chemistry, Sandy/Happiness Anti-Ships: Forced!!!

IC INFO

Full Name: Sandy Patience Owen Face Claim: Meghann Fahy Age/Birthday: 29/February 4, 1990 ~ Aquarius queen Occupation: Pediatric Surgeon Personality: Intelligent, Ambitious, Passionate, Silly, Guarded, Resolute, Nurturing Hometown: Charlotte, North Carolina Bio:Before her little sister came along, Sandy was the apple of their parents’ eyes. She was read to every single night, her lunches always had fruits and veggies, and her dreams were sugar plums almost every night. Then came Penny, and Sandy’s dreams became much different. Sandy became the big sister of anyone’s dreams. Their parents noted how careful Sandy was when holding Penny and just how loving she was toward the baby. They just knew the two would be best friends.

Sandy was always considered a leader as she was growing up. She wasn’t a huge sports fanatic, mostly because she would rather be busy with her studies or the piano. As their parents were both in the medical field, Sandy felt pressure to do well in school. Thus, she tried her very best at all times. For as long as she could remember, especially after becoming a big sister and helping her mother at every chance, Sandy wanted to work with babies and children. Whether that was a pediatrician or a pediatric surgeon, she wanted to help little ones feel better.

Headstrong and full of energy, Sandy always knew her place was at the front. Though she could have just as easily been a bully, growing up with a sibling so close in age forced her to set a good example in front of little Penny. She soon became the girl that stood up for others in every situation. As it were, the quality paid off when she completed externships at the local hospital as her favorite patients were the little ones that couldn’t always express how they were feeling. This developed her need even further to stand up for the little humans that were in pain and help them in anyway she could. Her future career seemed to be solidifying itself before her eyes.

At the age of 15, Sandy sat her parents down with a poster presentation on her sexuality. Because of her research and the passion inserted in her words, her parents felt that she had truly thought about what she was saying. They accepted her with love and tears in their eyes. Being bisexual may have been fine in the Owen household, it was still continuously difficult outside the doors. The loving nature of her parents and sister could only get Sandy so far. It was up to her to stand up for herself at school and anywhere else. Loads of people talked behind her back stating that she was going through a stage, many thought she was doing it for attention. When she did get her first girlfriend at the age of 17, boys would flock to them on their dates to the movies and prompt them to kiss. It only took Sandy punching an unruly boy to get them to settle down once and for all. For the rest of her time in high school, she had few people bully her into submission. It just couldn’t be done.

Her first girlfriend followed her to UNC Chapel Hill where she studied Pre-Medical Sciences. The relationship didn’t last long as Sandy devoted far too much time to her studies. Sandy had decided, against her advisor’s wishes, to take more credits than was advised so that she could graduate early and begin her graduate plans. As much as Sandy was focused on her career and studies, she still made time to join a sorority, find her first boyfriend, break up with her first boyfriend, and find out that she was really into Moscow mules.

After she graduated a year early, Sandy began her graduate career at Johns Hopkins School of Medicine. At the age of 22, Sandy was finding that she was going to spend most her life in school. Though she was decently okay with that fact, she made a promise to herself to make the effort in relationships if her studies did not suffer. Much to her chagrin, the majority of her relationships did not last longer than 6 months. The reasoning all differed, but Sandy knew it was because they could not handle her busy schedule of classes and preceptor hours. She understood how they felt in some way, knowing the stories her parents would tell. It still left her incredibly lonely, yearning for something more in her life.

3 years into her graduate program a shockwave soon came that ripped through Sandy’s life, tearing up every root that ever grounded her. The death of her father came as a complete blindside. The man was healthier than his peers and always went to every doctor appointment, assuring himself a long life to watch his daughters have babies of their own. Family was so important to him. Sandy rushed home, throwing all her responsibilities out the window, begging the heads of her program to understand that she may need a few weeks off to gather up the pieces of her life. They obliged, the people at Johns Hopkins had families of their own and respected Sandy enough to know that this was a defining time in her life.

To say that the Owens were devastated would be an understatement. Sandy even considered transferring closer to home just to be closer to her mom. Suzie Owen would not have any part of that. There were many nights where Sandy would end up in her mother’s bed begging her to let her transfer home, but at the end of the 3 weeks, Suzie and Penny helped Sandy pack her things to send her back to Baltimore. Sandy ended up with a chip on her shoulder that increased her focus tenfold, something her colleagues didn’t think was possible. She took it upon herself to have her father’s legacy mean something, to complete her residency, become a surgeon, and live her life in his honor. It was the least she could do.

The years seemed to fly by as Sandy devoted herself almost entirely to her career and her family, letting other aspects of her life fall by the wayside. After her graduation and residency, Sandy made the final decision to follow Penny to New York City. Though unconventional, she knew that her little sister was wise beyond her years and made the best of decisions for her life. Sandy had to make sure Penny was going to be well taken care of and protected at all costs. So in September of 2019, Sandy made the adult decision to move herself to New York and start all over again.

Pets: No pets because she doesn’t have the time. She wouldn’t be opposed to getting a cat in the future.

Relationships:

Penny Owen: As the older sister, Sandy has ALWAYS looked after Penny. Whether they were in elementary school, high school, or in New York City as adults. Being that the two are close in age, they do have their arguments every now and then, but they are thick as thieves. After the passing of their father, they grew closer and closer. Sandy finds herself holding back emotions from Penny at times to protect her, however.

April’s Growers: After moving to New York, Sandy found herself a routine with the hospital, her home life, and her sister. She needed something more. With that, Penny told her about the Growers and Sandy had to join. Sandy likes to come up with ideas for the group to accomplish and loves to work with the group and her friends.

EXTRA INFO

Lives in 15 CORNELIA ST APT 7F by herself currently

Twitter name/twitter URL/description: Dr. Owen/sandyowen-md/☼

Five latest tweets:

@sandyowen-md: I’m just glad I get to wear teddy bear scrubs whenever I want #aesthetic

@sandyowen-md: I promise I’m not glaring at you, my glasses are getting fixed. #innocentbystander

@sandyowen-md: Siri, google insomniac cookies begin order

@sandyowen-md: apple cider > pumpkin spice #comeforme

@sandyowen-md: There’s just something about snow that amazes me everytime…

#accepted

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porchwood · 5 years

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Okay, here goes. The incredible @everlarkedalways created a GoFundMe to help me out through present circumstances, but before I share that link, I wanted to explain a bit of what’s been going on. I feel awful accepting financial help, in part because I’ve been such a dry well for the past 18 months (I have nothing creative to give back/say “thank you” with) and also because so many of you have previously contributed monies to help me through other crisis points over the past five years (yes, it’s been that long and no, it doesn’t seem to be getting any better). But things are maybe the most desperate they’ve ever been and I really can’t say no to badly needed help.

Because I’m long-winded, I’m going to try to condense this into a simple chronological order. Things have been relentlessly bad since my car accident on December 26, 2013, but this is where the current run really started:

December 2017: The day after Christmas, I went to the ER at 3am with excruciating chest and upper back pain, a bad experience all around (terrible staff, indifferent care). Their best guess was that I’d had an acid reflux attack, something I’d never had before (but have had since, alas :/).

January 2018: The ER bill saga began, and after loads of paperwork/headaches applying for any kind of aid/bill forgiveness, they put me on a payment plan for the $1,343 balance (and yes, that was "after” insurance - Marketplace policies are crap and all they did was “adjust” the total; nothing was covered). Meanwhile, I started taking Lucky to an acupuncturist over an hour’s drive away, desperate to find something to ease her severe separation anxiety (nonstop barking and howling when I was gone, which we have been struggling to treat, with varying degrees of success, for over two years). The sessions were very expensive (around $400 for one month - I had to put them on a credit card that I’m still chipping away at) and actually made her WORSE.

February 2018: The downstairs neighbors left a mildly threatening note about Lucky’s howling - the day before my birthday. In a ridiculous twist of luck, I managed to find a great sitter who only takes little dogs and was (and still is) able to watch Lucky for me as needed, but it cost me $25/day. (At most I would use her two days a week, but you can see how quickly that would add up.) At the same time, I also started administering CBD drops (suggested by our new vet) to Lucks when I had to leave her at home.

July 2018: After increasing the dosage multiple times, I finally started seeing improvement in Lucky’s behavior from a combination of the CBD drops and SAMe, which was huge (note the timespan), but these therapies cost about $100 month. I resolved to make it work somehow.

September 2018: I found out that my workplace had been bought out by an area salon and would be changing hands soon. Shortly thereafter the new owner sent us the employee handbook, which stated that we could not have another job in the same field (many massage therapists in this part of the country work at multiple places as there simply isn’t enough work to go around, especially in the off-season). The new owner was originally okay with me keeping my second job (on-call work at a yoga studio), and then I learned that that position was switching from a subcontractor to an outright rental (I would have to pay up front for the use of the room and possibly make none of it back while having to promote myself as a business), so for several reasons I decided I would leave that second job at the end of October and try to pick up more hours at my “main” job. One bright spot in all this: the downstairs neighbors moved out at the end of the month, but...

October 2018: ...the day after the neighbors moved out, the landlord informed my roommate (a THG fandom friend and content creator) that the owner of our building had sold the property and that we had 30 days to vacate. I can’t even begin to articulate how stressful, expensive, frightening, and exhausting that time was. By the end of October our only real option was a little house approximately 10 miles from town, and miraculously we got ourselves moved out there - to the tune of lots of $$$ and insane energy expenditure.

November 2018: Because I now lived about 20 mins from work and I have to come home at lunchtime to take Lucky out (and give her a booster of anxiety drops), I had to switch to split shifts. If you’ve ever worked split shifts, you will understand why this sucks (you’re never home, you’re always tired, and you never see or spend time with the people you live with). My new boss put me on the schedule for two additional days a week (I initially had just two days a week, period, hence the second job), which initially seemed very promising, but neither myself nor the rest of the staff realized that the new management had an either/or policy when it comes to pay. (This is messy and frustrating to explain, but in a nutshell: instead of getting paid commission for massages and hourly for the rest of your clocked-in time - laundry, desk help, etc - you get paid ONLY commission, i.e., nothing for all the extra things you do, unless the commission divided by hours amounts to less than minimum wage, in which case they pay you minimum wage for the week instead, including for your massage hours. Which is not cool but is, apparently, legal.) So I was driving about an hour a day (20 mins each way, twice, to the tune of about 300 miles/week) just to make minimum wage (we were entering the dead season for massage and I’m the perpetual “second string” therapist anyway, so some weeks I had just four clients in four days :/), which was exhausting and disheartening.

December 2018: Daylight glimmered: my sister (with whom I am extremely close and who I hadn’t seen in a year and a half) flew out to see me after Christmas. A coworker agreed to cover the whole week and a half of her visit for me, and I was a little nervous about taking the time off (unpaid, of course) at such a rotten financial time, but I hadn’t had a vacation of any kind since moving to Maine nor a weekend off since August of 2017. I resolved to be extra frugal during her visit and my work schedule was going to be almost full after she left, so I was pretty sure I could squeak through somehow.

I saw her off on her return trip, and that night I was carrying some dishes down from our living room when I took a very bad fall down the stairs. These are awful, steep “Maine stairs,” and in my fall my left leg shot out through the open side of the staircase and wedged the knee against the bookcase in the dining room below. When I tried to get up I realized that something was very wrong with my knee, and my roommate helped me to bed with ice, a brace, ibuprofen, etc. The following morning I went to the hospital and was directed to the same stupid ER (the last place I ever wanted to go again, but they don’t have urgent care out here and wouldn’t let me just see a GP, so I broke down and cried in admissions). The care I received was middling, if not as bad as on my previous visit, and the nurse-practitioner ordered no weight-bearing for three days, which meant losing the rest of that (desperately needed) work week, and advised following up with orthopedics the next week if the knee wasn’t better.

My wonderful roommate made all kinds of accommodations for my comfort for those three days, and I implemented all the extra therapies I could think of (turmeric, arnica, l-glutamine, Epsom salt soaks, etc). I asked my employers about the possibility of picking up non-massage hours (covering the desk, laundry, etc) but was given the impression that there was nothing for me to do till I could return to massage again. I went to the orthopedic doctor last Thursday and his diagnosis was an MCL (least concerning of the knee ligaments) sprain or tear. I was already strides ahead on his self-care recommendations (getting myself off the crutches, constantly wearing a good brace) and he was supposed to refer me for some PT, but I haven’t heard a peep on that front, and I’m not particularly concerned because, Lord knows, my insurance probably wouldn’t pay for that anyway. He estimated 4 weeks to full recovery but I’m determined to get back to work before that.

So, here’s where we’re at: I’m out of work at the worst time of year, and at the very least, I’ll lose 2.5 weeks of pay (on top of the planned week I took off, plus Christmas and New Year’s were unpaid holidays). Because we live in Maine where everyone has beastly heating fuel, even in a decently insulated house (as I believe this one to be), it costs us around $350 a month to keep the place at 58 degrees through the winter months. (Yes, 58 degrees. 60 if we’re splurging.)

My credit cards are maxed out from car repairs and copious Lucky expenses (including an emergency vet visit - she ended up being fine but it was one of those things that happens after hours/over a weekend and you really shouldn’t wait several days to have checked out).

Oh, and just for fun, our January rent payment got lost in the mail. The landlord was very nice about it and we promptly sent out a replacement, but this meant paying $35 for a stop-payment on the missing check (did I mention that I had to buy checks, to the tune of almost $30, just for paying rent?).

Those of you who have already donated: you are quite literally keeping me going right now. You covered Lucky’s rabies booster yesterday and refills of her food and supplements (all of which, naturally, were running out at the same time), and Lucky is absolutely the reason I’m still alive, so her care honestly means more to me than my own.

I have no idea what my medical bills will look like at this point. I’m assuming the ER visit will be around $1000, and I’m sure the orthopedic visit will be up there somewhere too. As soon as bills start coming in I’ll apply for aid (or, likelier than not, a payment plan), but in order to do that they’re going to want my new tax returns, which means I’m going to have to get my taxes done (probably in Feb) just to find out what my ultimate medical expenses will be. (I used to do my own taxes cheaply through TaxAct, but I was a subcontractor for part of the year, which complicates things and means having to pay someone $$$ to do them this round. I may actually owe on my taxes this year, which is terrifying.)

The healing has been going well overall and I’m hoping to be able to go back to work next week, but I don’t want to assume my knee will oblige. To add insult to injury, I just got hammered with a terrible cold (the kind that levels you in bed), so my body is triaging itself and I’m not sure which is going to get the care first. Surprisingly enough, Lucky’s being a great little nurse, but recovery is a difficult and very lonely process, especially when you get saddled with illness on top of injury.

Anyway, sorry for the ramble. I’ve been reluctant to talk about the miserable past year, but in light of the fact that I’m receiving (and, I guess, asking for :/ ) help, I thought you should know what’s been going on. Thanks for listening and blessings on your day. <3

#bad stuff #gofundme

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saturninefilms · 5 years

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Smashed Pinball Machines And Drunk Parents

Years and years ago, I was a child and I had this friend named Charlie. Charlie was an old soul even from a young age. He had two good parents that couldn’t split a dime between them both, and it was the first time in my life that I had to look at my own father with real admiration and not that childlike superhero kind that every little boy has about his father. No, instead, once I met Charlie, I had a different kind of appreciation. That menial labor job that my father had at the time, detailing cars or working on a factory line, the kind of job that a man does to take care of his own (and it always seemed like a proxy state to me before I met Charlie). Meeting that little boy showed me that my father didn’t do it out of obligation, but he did it out of love.

Charlie had two parents that loved him outwardly and affectionately and they had little pet names for him that I no longer recall, but they were also hard on their luck. Charlie’s mom bounced around from apartment to apartment and his dad lived in a small hotel room that didn’t have running water or a kitchen and when young Charlie had to take a piss, the boy was relegated to the gas station across the street and I remember thinking to myself, god damn, I have a pot to piss in. I might not eat well, but I eat. My house might be unfurnished and the electricity bill might not always get paid on time. We might not have cable like the other kids do and we might have to get our clothes from Wal-Mart and I might have eaten 10,000 pizzas that cost a dollar a pop at that point, but my father always made sure that we ate. He always made sure we had a roof over our heads and he was a real man. And that was made ever apparent to me when I met Charlie’s dad. Charlie’s father didn’t own a car. He had a long, unkempt beard and he rode a little purple bicycle wherever he went. One would think that young Charlie would see his dad and feel a little embarrassed at the flower from which he was blossomed. One would assume that Charlie was ashamed of his old man, but he never was. I remember meeting him, the old man with the unkempt beard and the yellow teeth and the endless bottles of booze sitting next to his box-spring, how excited young Charlie was for me to meet the man. This is my dad, he told me. He can play guitar really good. And then his old man would grab that guitar and play an endless rendition of Beatles songs and the real glut of it was this: his old man was really quite good on the strings. He really knew how to play with feeling. He wasn’t as good of a guitarist as my father was a drummer, but he was good. He was damned good.

And then there was his mother. Charlie was a mama’s boy from birth, and even though the woman was from the midwest, she affectionately called him CHAWLEY, as if his name didn’t have that resonant ARE sound, and Charlie would smile and expose that gap-tooth grin and it made me think of my own mother. I thought about all the times in school that the young kids would mock me for having a beautiful mom. They would say things like, Hey Weber, how the hell did you come from that? Your mom is god damn hot. And they would make me feel all the uglier for having a parent that wasn’t ugly and I would wonder to myself how I ended up with the face that I ended up with. How did that happen? It didn’t seem to make much sense to me (and this was made all the more apparent having a beautiful brother and a beautiful sister) and I wondered to myself all that time where my genetic makeup fucked up. I remember Charlie's mother showing up to my dad’s house and she was drunk in a way that I had never seen a woman drunk. And I remember my dad begging her to sleep on our couch and begging her to let young Chawley spend the night because he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to him, and I remember thinking that I was lucky because my mom was in the next town over, fast asleep and waiting for her shift the following morning. I remember young Charlie’s mother being slumped over the car and my father unbuckling the seat belt, putting her arms around his strong shoulders, and carrying her to the couch. When we woke up, I expected Charlie to look at his mother, slumped and hungover and snoring like mad, to refuse to look back at me at all. I expected him to suggest we go outside and play basketball or write a story together or walk to the gas station to take a piss, or literally anything at all besides paying attention to his mother. But instead, I woke up to the sound of running water in the kitchen. I woke up to young Charlie getting a glass of water and a set of extra-strength Ibuprofen from our medicine cabinet and he said, “Hey man, this is my mom and I have to take care of her because she takes care of me when I’m sick.”

And I remember thinking distinctly that I was both not as good of a person as he was and, at the same time, ten-thousand percent less annoyed at the prepubescent kids that I would see at school that morning. They would say things like, “hey Weber, your mom married yet? You want a new daddy?” And, at least for that day, I wouldn’t feel the desire to make them swallow their own goddamn teeth. Young Charlie made me realize how good I had it. He made me love my mother more. He made me love my father more. He showed me what I actually had and, for the first time, I was very glad to have it. One morning, my brother and I got into a fight before school. And the two of us really knew how to do it. We would punch one another, spit on each other, call one another that very specific name that we both knew would ruin the other. He had a collection of first-place trophies sitting on the bookshelf, trophies that he’d earned as a first-class wrestler, the kind of kid that other children feared being pitted against, and he was proud of those trophies almost as much as I detested them. I never had that athletic spark that my brother had, couldn’t wrestle to save my life, and I remember watching him win and win and win again with equal parts pride and disgust (later, as adults, we would drunkenly wrestle in the living room of a trailer and he told me that the key was to wait until the other person sprang, and then you could use their momentum against them and you had them from that point on and I wondered why he didn’t tell me that as a child, but I assumed it was the same reason why I never told him how to do a paradiddle on a snare drum) and I remember him saying that special sequence of words that would turn me animal. And, though I regret admitting this now, I also remember taking one of those first place trophies and destroying it into a thousand pieces against my dad’s living room wall. I remember him crying and telling me what a piece of shit I was and I remember how happy I was to have affected him in such a way (something that sounds borderline psychotic, and it is, but it’s also something that brothers like us just had to do). I remember my grandmother buying me this little handheld pinball machine. It had bright lights and would make noises and keep score as you improved upon the game, and I remember how excited I was to open that present on Christmas day (Grandma’s birthday) and I remember working tirelessly to get good at it. And I did. It was one of those games that I could actually understand, like reading a long-form novel or completing a crossword puzzle or any number of things that my parents didn’t seem to notice I was actually good at, but grandma noticed and so I tried really hard to get good at it. Anyway, my brother’s response to me destroying his trophy was to take my pinball machine and let the thing meet my father’s hammer. I got home from school and my pinball machine laid there in a thousand pieces, just like my brother’s trophies did that morning, and though I knew that I deserved such a comeuppance, it still destroyed me to see that thing laying there like that. The only difference between my discovery and my brothers was that young Charlie saw the pinball machine and he was not there for my act of destruction on my brother’s accomplishments. Young Charlie sat with me as I cried like the little boy that I was, clutching my prized pinball machine and cursing my brother’s name. I probably called my brother an asshole ten-thousand times and I meant it more each time I said it. And young Charlie heard every obscenity and he sat there with me all evening long, like a real friend would. Because he was, as I would discover too late, a real friend.

Days later, young Charlie showed up to my house and we played video games and we ate potato chips and we watched professional wrestling while my dad drank beer on the couch and he told me, “Hey man, I have something for you, but it’s really fucking lame and it’s okay if you laugh at it.” And then he asked me if I would go outside with him under the streetlight so I could see it. And I said that I would, so we went outside and he got in his backpack and pulled out a shoe box with holes drilled on both sides. Young Charlie reached into the side pocket and pulled out two rubber balls (one was pink and one was navy blue). The inside of that shoe box was adorned with all kinds of handcrafted decorations, numbers and bright red markers indicating what part represented what amount of points, and he said to me, “Hey man, I know this is lame, but I wanted to make you a game so you could still play pinball, so here’s how you play.” And he pulled the pink ball out and dropped it from the top of the game board. The ball hit the marker and then sprang up passed the 100 marker, and then the 200, and finally the 300 marker and then it rolled back down triumphantly and young Charlie hit the ball again. I told him thank you and then we went back inside and watched Shawn Michaels defeat Bret Hart in a no disqualification, no-holds-barred, non-title match. Shawn Michaels won. This made young Charlie sad and it made me feel pretty good (I liked how much of an asshole that guy was. I appreciated that for some reason). A short time later, Charlie’s dad would pass away under circumstances that I still don’t quite know (but very clearly understand, somehow). And then, some years after that, Chawlie’s poor mother would fall down a flight of stairs and die alone in an empty stairwell in Ames, Iowa. I would only see Charlie a number of times after this fact and I remember having that same sensation after hearing about his father’s passing. How I had to call my own father up, give him a hug, tell him I loved him, and I had to appreciate that I was lucky enough to still have him above soil. And then the same thing happened when his mother died. I remember being in New Orleans, Louisiana and calling my own mom, telling her how much I loved her and how much I appreciated that he she was my mom (even though I still had reservations that I didn’t end up as beautiful as 99% of my family members had). And I remember calling Charlie one day and we talked for hours about music and women and how much life had changed from 12 to 21 and from 21 onward, and then I remember going to a couple of his concerts and I remember him playing my favorites just for me and I remember singing to them with him and I will never forget how excited his gap-tooth smile was to look down at me in the audience and realizing that I actually knew every lyric to the songs he was playing just for me. His songs. And they were damn good. His dad would have been very proud. My dad would have been very proud. I was very proud. Some time after that, Charlie jumped in front of a train and ended it all. And I remember calling my mother from a hotel in Nebraska and crying to her for what seemed an eternity. I had lost my childhood best friend, the only guy on Earth that really understood me on a fundamental level and the whole damn time, the only thing I wished to do was to tell the lot of them; my mother, my father, my brothers, sisters, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and all the other people that kept my life in tact: I love all of you so much and thank you for being there for me. And then I cried even more and I thought how much I wished Charlie could have called me and said the same. But he couldn’t do that because he was alone and his parents were gone and his family was scattered and he had it worse than I did. And then they dedicated a park bench in his honor and I write this poem in his honor and he stays alive in that way, and I still wish to tell those people how much I value them, but I haven’t the guts to get sentimental now. As it turns out, I’m really quite good as destroying trophies and at being jealous. I’m not as good, as it is, at being honest or genuine. I think of Charlie, young Chawlie, that gap-tooth smile and that giant fucking heart of his and I think, god dammit man, I really wish that I could tell you thanks. But since I cannot, I write this poem instead and I hope that it does the trick. Thank you, Charlie.

#poem #poetry

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isakwon · 6 years

Text

MALEVO

Pairing: Reader x Got7’s Kim Yugyeom

Genre: Angst

Warning: Violence and swearing

Word Count: 2k

Yugyeom was only a baby already living the best life he ever had. Sometimes his father would take him to work while making sure his son had fun working in an office all day. His mother would teach him floral cake decorating and he would eat sugar cookies if he behaved. He liked picking flowers for his teacher and the librarian just for doing their job. Elder women who lived next door given him the nickname “Gyeomie Bunny” because he resembled one apparently. He loved everything about his life as much as the person next door. He was adorable as he was harmless so the nickname stuck around him.

When he was a little boy, he skipped on the pavement leading to his home. His parents their youngest son’s little hands. Tonight his relatives are coming over and he was excited to watch his parents cook for them while he set the dinner table. When they arrived, Yugyeom ran directly to hug them. His aunt took him aside crouching down to match his eye level and takes out a goodie bag

“Yugyeom, what do you want when your grown up?” She asked him.

Yugyeom said brightly, “I wanna work with Dad and look after Mom.”

His heavily touched parents adore over their sympathetic toddler, smiles and awes follow.

“And where are you going to live?” She asked again.

“Here. I wanna live here forever and ever.”

Young Kim Yugyeom loved climbing the rooftop to watch the sunset before bathing.

That was before he ran away quickly before light shone on him.

He loved running down the street with neighborhood kids holding sparklers high.

But that was before running down the street hiding behind corners trying to catch some air.

Too many people looked down onto him, and they had their own right justified. They said he needs to be locked behind bars. That he needed some good beatings. They assumed he wasn’t raised properly, rumors spread about him and none were true. They said police should shut them down. On some occasions, they were right.

People who think, behave, speak like him are your least favorite. So why did you keep caring about him?

.....

Because he’s your childhood friend.

You were a transfer student starting the second Junior high school year, and the week before, you sprain your ankle. Walking and using the stairs weren’t as easy as always with crutches especially lunchtime but Yugyeom offered carrying your tray until your ankle heals.

“Are you still going to want to sit with me after my ankle heals?”

“Nobody wants to sit with you anyways.” He smirks.

You reaction was a released chuckle because hell since you didn’t know anyone, you sat all alone.

....

Soon later your friendship was incomparable with past ones. The two of you were inseparable like peas in a pod and sometimes people teased about one day you’d end up falling in love, but that was never the case. Your parents met through your 17th birthday party for the first time at last. He laughed while you apologize for your Dad’s behalf, who was offering his parents every booze under the basement. handing you his birthday gift. You went complete shocked. “Gyeom...how did you know?”

The collection album covered with your favorite music idols tore the wrapping paper away to get held firmly like the bouquet full of daffodils.

“You talked about how much you were ‘dying to have it’. What friend wouldn’t listen to you?”

You throw arms around him hugging each other and smiling. Crossing his arms over your shoulder blades as you whisper beside his ear.

“Thank you so much.”

…

One day Yugyeom walked beside you through the street the way to his house during summer picking snow cones with the spoons.

“Hey Kim Yu!”

There was an older man seemed to be in his thirties waving at you smiling while wiping down his car. He began to walk towards the spot where you were as Yugyeom shares his childhood memory of the man teaching him and his group mambo. He increased the music volume and told the then little boys basic steps which eventually turned a dancing circle with neighborhood children.

Out of nowhere two loud bangs roared almost muffling your hearing. Some mysterious maroon car sped the scene revealing the man who was walking towards your spot, present with blooded wounds diagonal across the back. You stare over the body, frozen in horror unable to move until Yugyeom rushes you inside the house.

Shortly after one life was lost, Yugyeom stopped coming to school nearly losing contact with anyone including you. Although he gave you his new phone number Yugyeom has been seen less and less anywhere. Teachers ask how he was and the answer was you hadn’t heard from him because the daily calls were decreasing by months.

You stood still grasping your fingers, weary before knocking the door again. No one was home but the cars were in the driveway so someone at least must’ve heard you however when you knocked on the door again, nothing. “Excuse me mam, have you seen Kim Yugyeom?”

The elder woman pauses her knitting, “Oh he’s no more here. His parents left the house with him and came back without him. That also the last time I had seen them.”

So they have moved away but why was Yugyeom silent about that? Together you had been through thick and thin whether the situation was chance getting held back because grades were dropping or nerves shivering before ditching class parties simply because neither enjoyed being there. Was he just worried about what you’d think? How far is the location, you could still make the friendship work. Even the bestest friends disperse using distance keeping them away, however you and Yugyeom loved each other so much. You were like the sister he never had and boys don’t often wish having a sister.

“Are you his girlfriend?” The woman ask out your pacing thoughts.

You shake your head. “No no, his friend, we met Junior High. We spend lots of time together especially here.”

If moving away was the case how come they still have their cars parked in the driveway? Yugyeom left with them how come they came back without him? Where was he? How come they didn’t move together? Who allows minors leave the house before his parents the month before graduating and nobody have seen the parents?

This puzzled you.

“You shouldn’t ever come again. Walking freely over here won’t be happening again, thankfully I don’t have much time to live.”

Your jaw drops, suddenly feeling slight discomfort and saying sorry for the best thought up response.

“Don’t be, this place had always been my home for many years until outskirt problems are slowly making their mark here. I’ll be safe in paradise with JoIn without actually getting hurt.”

The woman leaves the spot beside the fence grasping the yarn cloth and knitting needles with her. You scan the worry-free neighborhood where residents considered safe and private place. Your parents wanted to move here. Nobody complained about being poor they didn’t need millions of dollars. This place having problems can’t be true.

Distance took time separating those who were once friends.

“He escaped from the girls he dated plotting to fight him for being a player.”

That’s not true.

“Is he still alive?”

Of course he is, at least hopefully.

One day a fellow student caught him at gas market and they said, “He wore this rain jacket that looks like it cost two hundred, maybe he got a good paying job and left school.”

And he did.

He was no longer seen much around the building anymore because he was working full time for the worst job possibly easy to get. The salary came easily, largely, late, on time, and put bread on the table.

….

As you stretch your arm muscles, you looked forward cuddling with blankets for hours, watching your favorite movies while eating ramen and chips before falling your head back down into the pillows. During early college years, you thought working five days each week would earn you enough money, but the more days working the more fatigue you become. “Bye Y/N, enjoy your night!”

You and your boss wave good bye, and you take your keys and phone out your pocket unlocking the screen being aimless scrolling through messages between you and Yugyeom. The messages dated almost an entire year since he disappeared before moving away. Sometimes you forget neither stands beside one another opposing having no idea where he went. All that you had was his new number working for some time, yet whenever you asked when you could meet, he always said the same response.

There must’ve been an excuse for Yugyeom to stopped messaging like losing his phone. As much as you denied it, the friendship was going extinct on his behalf meanwhile you thought about him so much, it worries you.

....

He knocked on the door using the secret rhythm doing the same delivery tonight for his least best client, none were the best clients. None of them trusted him and he could care less he didn’t trust them either with all rights. Every afternoon Yugyeom wakes up regretting this job so much he wanted to be saved since the moment things around him working their way to crush him. Since the moment the people he trusted the most turned their backs.

“Open the fuckin’ door man.”

He squeezes through the creak looking the peeping eyes’ owner head down to toes slapping and shaking his hand, meeting his face reflecting exact blank narrowness. Three more men with women under arms hung around the room, the more buffed looking one leaned back against the couch closing his legs. Their faces held as emotionless all observing Yugyeom coldly revealing bit of his eyes flicking his visor.

“You good Rabb?” He dipped his head in a nod as he stood still scanning the walls covered with mold, dirt, torn holes, graffiti gang signs which were also written on the door. Their television set decorated with collectible almost empty beer bottles and shot glasses lacing around leading on the nearest side table. Some couch pillows were slouched covered with thin quilts, tears, unidentified stains visible in the dimness, white smeared lining remains on the armrests and coffee table. ‘Girl A’ wore an oversized jacket probably must’ve took some “candy” he last delivered before arriving, dangling her leg while sitting on the other, flicking baldie’s ear slumped against his side.

“What’s up Yu, did you bring the soda?”

“The candy’s the only noun welcomed here. You don’t give two shits about me without it. And we’re in private just call it what it is.”

His already uncomfortable aura matching the atmosphere and occupiers lounging over the couches, except Yugyeom never supposedly forgets anything. And today he would be expecting his deserved payment already past deadline.

“Delivery man is just as important since he’s the one bringing the stuff to us.”

The taller leaner man said. “Of course we know you’re too close minded to trust us.”

Yugyeom pulls a crumble brown paper bag from his inside pocket, hunched above the table scattering ziploc bags filled with dope in different measurements. Trust rolls their tongues like honey as if that were their lifestyle motto When these buyers cared for drugs only unlike others who put pressure on Yugyeom to trust them.

Yugyeom never tried hitting dope nor considered trying, he saw how addicted users get. If it weren’t for the news presenting grotesque slideshows with photographs of effects from drug use, he would have died the even stupider way. Whether he used dope or not, dealing came with a huge amount of violence putting lives on the edge of line.Yugyeom could lose his life anyway any day and he’s lucky enough having lived more than some newbies. He outlived those always doubting he’d live long enough before turning twenty-one. Few dealers are actually five times smarter and five times wealthier than their customers. Most smarter than others who were keeping the dopamine for themselves and not having some escape route in case the fuzz was coming.

Baldie shrugged his supposed lady going into another room as she’s clouded in bleached Isobutane lingering the couch she sat on, she definitely had eaten the leftover dopamine in small amounts. She says very drowsily, “Hey...you smell clean?”

“Bitch, look at me then look at you. I’d be walking around wearing nothing but that sweater to be higher than you. Get off.”

“Okay hey don’t be like that..like all ruthless or something.” She says, sitting back down, crossing her legs, exposing black boy shorts and messing with the cushion beside her.

Baldie comes back holding a handful of cash rolled with a rubber band and a bottle in the other hand. Yugyeom wished delivering dope and driving where he stayed money in pockets were as easy and quick as making deals on apartment parking lots during the day. Unfortunately, dope dealing was a secretive job that started taking longer getting it done as long as money. And unfortunately as he’s counting the rolled up cash, there wasn’t enough.

“You want some toke Rab? Maybe feeling little anxious, one time my girl Chae came up with her own-”

“Not from these little strawberry thotties you have business with while they’re blacking out.” Yugyeom moves away the other lady attempting to massage his shoulders, “What I want is my fucking money, where’s all the money you owe me?”

The girls face each other being taken aback how someone could talk against their customers the way Yugyeom did. Baldie backed away for the taller man to stand directly eye to eye with Yugyeom who lifted his chin.

“The fuck are you being so goddamn disrespectful in my household man?”

“Aye you already disrespected this house turning it into a drugged brothel. You’ve already been left off past due payment and you think I’m just gonna let a weekend's worth slide?” Almost raising his voice.

He glimpses the corner of his eye where the sounding double clicks coming from barrel shotgun gripped by the snarling girl called Chae. Behind Yugyeom he hears another click that can mistake for curtains bending, but doesn’t look.

“Yeah, coasts clear.”

The guy who opened the door looms behind Yugyeom trying to raise tension onto him however he stayed cool as ice. A twenty-two pistol gets seven centimeters closer as Yugyeom’s eyes never leave the taller man’s who are locked on Yugyeom, huffing thick weed clouds through his nose, smelling like burnt cardboard.

“The bottom line is we’re still short. So you’re gonna have to let this one slide the entire month.”

In the beginning, this terrifies a younger Yugyeom when he showed late and accidentally messed up a large delivery. Despite accompanied during the deliveries as ‘Training Godfather’-as newbies were liked to be called- hiding crouched down beside the passenger door before escaping had been the day he realized he just became a new target. He fears for his life every morning and hesitates before grabbing the doorknob.

“Yeah? Every house I’ve been to always have some secret stash next to their own stash, I know you have somewhere above short back there. Mind if I take a look?”

Threatening situations no longer froze him, he’s getting more used to them. “You really wanna go there?” He turns the pistol off safety

“You welcoming me there looks like.”

Only two seconds pass when cardinal whistles breaks tension off, probably their watchman Yugyeom saw on top the roof before entering. The taller man tugs the curtain to peep out one of the windows stepping aside from Yugyeom, his eyes sharp and ears open wherever the sound of truck’s running engine is heading. “Oh shit, the fuzz are coming! Hide everything!”

Before they knew it, everybody stays behind scattering around cursing under their panicked breaths, stuffing their drugs beneath the floor, walls and ceilings. The guns hid behind the canvas paintings, the refrigerator was filled with beer, water and little dope bags. The men were yelling and the women panting going everywhere, ducking from flashlights and getting more anxious when they hear dogs barking. Yugyeom raced toward the back the house hanging flat back against the wall waiting for the spotlights to pass, once they were gone the window was wired so he couldn’t get out. He acted quick as he could, holding his breath, scanning the halls, before the oncoming tank rammed the house with their battering. Not caring whoever he pushed the door on, twas all one man for himself. “Shit.”

As soon as he finds another, Yugyeom wastes no time kicking the window hard as he can. Meanwhile, the clients continue stuffing all their stuff down bathroom sink pipes and into the air vents. Backup cops snuck around the opposite side of the house blowing fire extinguishers off into the bathroom. And judging by the sudden midnight thunder and following grunts, the tank already tore the entire living room down, giving someone a damaged back. Shouting instructing voices draw closer. “Shit.”

It takes three kicks more to free Yugyeom and jump the same direction shattered glass fell.

He skidded one way then the other, the dog barking vigorously behind him hopping rooftop after the next. Not even the cops could spot him since the night was still mostly dark and his full on black outfit was the most helpful camouflage. He may have failed to earn delivery payment but he succeeded escapement for survival once again, winning against weapons, tanks crushing him, and risk from getting arrested had been now Yugyeom’s life. But this life, this persona wasn’t who Yugyeom truly was and it never will be.

He finds hiding right on time disappearing into the crack of dawn.

| Read MALEVO 2

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champagnememoirs · 6 years

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Previously on Soft as a Rose, Sweet as Wine

Lexa walked through her front door and hung Aries' leash on the hook next to her keys. She heard noise coming from her living room and walked in to find Anya sitting very comfortably on her couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. There was a bag of chips beside her and a soda can next to her feet.

"Why did I think it was a good idea to give you a spare key to my house?" Lexa moved through her home picking up Anya's shoes and setting them by the door and then moving to the kitchen to get a coaster to place under her drink. "Ever heard of coasters? Oh wait, of course you have! Every time you come over and I tell you to use one."

Anya simply rolled her eyes and kept her focus on the TV. "Whatever sis, you know you love it when I come over and brighten your day with my presence," Anya took a handful of chips and handed them to Aries who was sitting on the floor looking up at her adoringly.

"Oh my god! What are you doing? You know I am training him! He's never going to learn to behave if you keep spoiling him and sneaking him junk food!" Lexa called Aries over in an attempt to get him away from the contraband snacks. Instead, he just gave a quick bark and finished his chips before moving over to where Lexa was waiting. "You two will be the end of me."

"Relax sis, a couple of chips won't kill him" Lexa just rolled her eyes, knowing there was no use in continuing her chastising when Anya was never going to listen. Besides, Aries loved her and she couldn’t really blame Anya completely for giving in to his adorable puppy eyes. Instead, she just grabbed a handful of chips for herself and settled into her couch. “Why are you even here?"

"Mom called. She wanted to know if you were coming over for Aiden's birthday next week. Said you haven't been answering your phone, and you better call her back before she comes here in person." Anya loved delivering messages from their mother. She always put on a smirk and never hesitated to tell their mom when Lexa rolled her eyes during her delivery.

Anya and Lexa were not biological sisters, but blood could not make their bonds any tighter. Anya had come into the Wood's family when Lexa was seven and Anya was ten. Lexa's mother wanted more children, but when the doctor told her she wouldn't be unable to have any more, she decided to become a foster mother instead. Her father loved kids just as much as his wife and was always happy to go along with anything that made her happy.

Anya had bounced around from family to family since she was three and she was a little hardened and mistrusting by the time she came to live with the Woods family. But Lexa always wanted a sister and she quickly bonded with the blonde rugged girl. Despite Anya's efforts to push her away, Lexa was so persistent to love her, that eventually Anya had no choice but to love the wild haired girl as well. Mr. And Mrs. Woods were kind and loving to Anya which made her feel like she belonged for once in her life. After a couple of years, the Woods adopted Anya and despite the fact that they were as alike as night and day; Anya and Lexa were inseparable.

A few years after Lexa went to college, their parents adopted Aiden. Lexa always complained that Aiden had it too good now that Anya was out of the house. But the truth was that she loved Aiden as much as Anya and she always found new ways to spoil him as much as she could; as did Anya.

"Did you take Aries for a walk by 5th again?" Anya asked with a smirk.

"No," Lexa's answer was too quick and Anya quickly picked up on it. "Liar. How long are you going to walk an extra thirty minutes just trying to run into that blonde again? It's been like three weeks dude. Move ON!" Anya actually loved the fact that Lexa was still pining over the mystery blonde. It gave her material to tease her. Which, she believed, was the right of all big sisters.

"There is nothing to move on from," Lexa shrugged her shoulders and gave her attention to Aries who was lying on the couch beside her. "She was cute, no big deal. I don't care if I don't see her again."

"Then why do you keep waking you dog in the same place where you last saw her?"

"Aries likes that street. There's a lot of flowers on the sidewalk and he likes to smell them as we walk." Lexa replied indignantly.

"Uh huh, whatever little sis," Anya rolled her eyes and just like that, she lost interest. "What are you getting Aiden for his birthday?"

“Oh no, I’m not telling you. That’s why you’re really here isn’t it?” Lexa was glad to move the conversation along but she was now worried about her sister’s real motives for breaking in to her house. “If I tell you, you would just try to buy something bigger and better and I have a really good one this year already planned."

"Not better than mine," her sister shot back.

Lexa rolled her eyes, she would not be baited into another gift war. Last time she let herself get dragged into Anya's friendly competitions, it cost her a fortune, and she got in trouble for buying her brother a motorcycle. Especially because Aiden was only turning six. Selling that thing had been a nightmare.

Lexa and Anya spent the afternoon talking and watching Netflix while Aries lounged around the house and occasionally went through the doggy door for a sprint around the backyard. They walked Aries again in the evening – this time just around the neighborhood – and returned to Lexa's for some pizza and beer. She loved quiet nights in with her sister. She was her best friend and the only person she felt she could talk to and be herself with.

As the night grew darker and they could no longer keep their eyes from closing, Lexa went up to her room to rest while Anya took to the guest bedroom. Aries was close behind and jumped and curled up on Lexa's bed. Lexa had tried to get him to sleep on his bed by the door but she couldn't resist his sad little face when he cried to be let up. "You're going to kick me out of this bed and make ME sleep by the door one day," she said with a smile as she gently rubbed behind his ears and gave him a kiss on top of his head. "If you're good, we can take another walk by 5th on Sunday and maybe, if we're lucky, we will run into Clarke." A smile flitted across her face at the thought of running into the blonde again.

Clarke looked in the mirror as she put on her earrings. Raven's firm was honoring her latest genius design which had brought the them the highest paying account in their history. Raven was the youngest architect at her firm and was proud of every accomplishment she had achieved. She had worked hard to become the best and made no apologies for her genius. Those who could afford it, fought to have her create some breathtaking masterpiece for them.

"You ready babe?" Octavia yelled out as she made her way through the apartment to Clarke's bedroom door.

"Almost!" Clarke was on the floor looking for her other shoe as Octavia walked in. "Lost shoe again?" Octavia asked already knowing the answer. Clarke just looked up and smiled. Organizational skills were just not at the top of the list of things she was good at. She knew it; and so did anyone who ever spent at least five minutes with her. She found her shoe under the bed and did quick work of getting it on. "Ready!" She yelled jumping up from her bed and twirling so Octavia could admire her outfit. The midnight blue dress hugged all her curves perfectly and ended just a few inches above her knee.

The two girls left the apartment and got into the cab that was waiting just outside their building door. When they arrived at the building – which Raven had designed – they took in the structure with awe. At the top of the steps, two men in tuxedos asked for their invitation and looked up their names on their clipboard. "Miss Griffin, Miss Blake, Please enjoy your evening," The man on the right subtly looked them both up and down admiring the two beautiful women in their stunning attire. "Thank you" replied Octavia with a flirtatious smile.

"Keep it in your pants O, we haven’t even made it past the door yet." A quiet laugh and a smile was Octavia's only response.

The inside of the building was even more luxurious and magnificent than the outside. There were stunning chandeliers and ceilings that seemed to be touching the sky. Wooden beams gave the building a rustic feel that somehow tied everything else together.

"Clarke, Octavia! Over here!" Raven's voice came from a table near the back of the room next to a stage. They made their way to the table, noticing the sea of men in suits and women in high end cocktail dresses on their way.

"I think that woman's dress costs more than our apartment" Clarke observed as she sat next to Raven. "You're probably right" Raven answered with a laugh.

"Congratulations, we're so proud of you," Octavia said as she took a seat on the other side of Raven.

"Thanks guys. I'm so happy you are here with me today," Raven smiled and took a sip of her champagne. "Doesn't the place look great? The event planners we hired have done an amazing job. Octavia, you should get their info. Aren't you having an event to celebrate the anniversary of your restaurant in a couple months?"

"Yeah I am. The place does look great." Octavia acknowledged.

All three of them looked around the room taking in the decoration. The light of the candles at each table bounced off the chandeliers giving the room a fairy tale look. The room was simply decorated, but somehow, the light of the candles and the wisteria hanging from the ceiling made the room seem magical.

The presenter called the attention of the guests and asked everyone to take their seats. After a few minutes, he was followed by several of the firm's most important partners taking the stage one by one to praise and congratulate Raven on her work and skills. Octavia and Clarke toasted and smiled with the crowd after every speech, and they felt immense pride for their friend. Only they knew how much Raven had sacrificed, struggled and overcome to be where she was now. Only they knew about her late nights studying and working two jobs to pay for college. Both Clarke and Octavia's parents had offered to help Raven pay for school. They loved her, and were happy to help, but Raven wouldn't accept any help but her own. When it was Raven's turn on stage, she thanked her partners, her staff, and made a few jokes. At the end, she looked at the girls sitting at her table and thanked her family for their support. Clarke and Octavia knew she was speaking to them. They were the only family Raven had. A tear escaped Clarke as she looked up at Raven being praised for all her hard work. "OK, enough of the mushy stuff. Ladies and gentlemen, let's party!" With that, Raven left the stage and made her way back to her friends. They congratulated her and hugged her; but shortly after, Raven was called for pictures and asked to greet a list of people who were just dying to meet her. She excused herself, and went off with the photographers and press.

"Well, it's an open bar, so it would be a shame to let it go to waste." Clarke stood and winked at Octavia. "I'm going to get a drink. Want one?"

"No, I'm going to go introduce myself to that tall drink of water over there. He's been giving me the eye and it would be a shame to let that much sexiness go to waste."

Clarke rolled her eyes and stood. "You have your priorities and I have mine," she laughed and gave Octavia's shoulder a light squeeze as she walked by. At the bar, Clarke took a glass of champagne and started to look around the room for any familiar faces. From behind her, she heard a familiar voice that made her heart skip a beat.

"Alright people, make sure drinks are well stocked. Hors d'oeuvres and champagne should be making their way around the room. Don’t forget to smile!"

Clarke turned around to look for the familiar face but only saw two young men who were busy pouring drinks and taking new orders. Great, now I am hearing her voice in my head she thought to herself with a sigh. But then, she heard it again. "Nyko, can you please check the sound system? I have heard this song like four times already. Don't let it get repetitive." Clarke turned around again and notice this time that the voice was coming from a walkie hanging from the bartender's belt. Her face lit up with a smile before she could stop it. Could it mean she was here? Would she get to see those green eyes again? She made her way through the room trying to find her. She wasn't sure what she would say but she didn't have the self control not to seek her out. Clarke never behaved this way, she was used to men and women flocking to her for attention. Something about Lexa though called out to her and she couldn't help but want to find out what it was.

She spotted Lexa at the back of the room next to the stage. She was looking intently into a tablet and muttering commands into an earpiece. Dressed in a cream colored dress that hugged her torso and then hung loosely to the floor. Her hair was pulled up in a elegant up do and she looked as beautiful as Clarke remembered. Without warning, as if feeling her presence, Lexa looked up and met Clarke's eyes. As blue met green, the entire room disappeared for a brief instance.

Lexa wasn't sure if she was actually seeing Clarke standing across the room or if she had wished seeing her again so much that she had started to hallucinate. When Clarke began to move towards her, she suddenly felt nervous and contemplated turning and hiding behind the stage. Instead, she changed channels on the walkie and spoke to Anya. "She's here!" Lexa was panicking. Lexa Woods did NOT panic.

"Who’s here?" Replied Anya, annoyed at not getting complete information.

"Clarke. The blonde I told you about from 5th street" Lexa said in hushed voice.

"Really? Where? I wanna see her!" Anya was by the entrance and started walking towards the main room in hopes of catching a glimpse at the mystery girl who had her sister all worked up. "She's coming over, what do I do?" Lexa asked in a rush all the while smiling at the people who walked by and glancing at Clarke who kept moving closer and closer.

"Tell her there's a cozy room in the back where you can get to know each other better!" Anya answered. Lexa glared at her walkie as if Anya could feel her stare. "I'm being serious, you idiot!"

"So am I," was Anya’s only unhelpful response.

"She's close, I'm going offline for a couple minutes." and with that, she cut off Anya's chatter with the click of a button. She took off her earpiece and looked up to meet blue eyes. Blue like the sky on a summer day, and a smile that was just as bright as the sun.

"Hi there," Clarke looked into Lexa’s green eyes and felt that they seemed to make her float and also held her firmly in place.

"Hey," Lexa smiled and answered.

"So you're the brilliant event planner I keep hearing about."

"I don't know if I would say brilliant, but I am flattered at the compliment" Lexa looked at the floor for a second then looked up with a shy smile that lit up her face in a way no candle or chandelier ever could. "Are you an architect?"

"Me? No, actually, Raven Reyes is my best friend." Clarke said with a proud smile.

"Really? Your friend is magnificent. Her work is inspiring. It was an honor for us to plan this for her." Lexa's praise was sincere and that somehow made Clarke like her more.

"Don't tell her that. I don't think her head could take it." Clarke let out a laugh and Lexa could see her pride for her friend despite her sarcasm and offered a smile in return.

"It was great seeing you again Clarke, but I'm afraid I have to get back to work. I'm sorry to have kept you from your date who surely must be looking for you." An innocent way to test the waters, Lexa thought.

"I didn’t come with a date," Clarke answered, a little too quickly, "Unless you count Octavia – my other best friend and roommate."

Lexa looked into Clarke's eyes and smiled. "Well, then let me give you my card. Perhaps next time we can run into each other on purpose?" She looked at Clarke for a reaction and found that Clarke had suddenly turned a little serious. "Is everything OK? I'm sorry if I'm overstepping Clarke" The way she said her name was like honey; soft and sweet. "No, not at all," She smiled and took her card. Their fingers brushed slightly and Clarke's smile grew.

"I really must get back. Have a lovely night Clarke. I hope you enjoy the party" Lexa looked into those mesmerizing blue eyes one last time and walked away. She made a mental note to stay behind the scenes as much as possible for the rest of the night. Lexa put on her earpiece again and checked on all the channels to make sure all was running smoothly. She then turned on the walkie, and as soon as she did, she heard Anya's unruly voice.

"So, did you tap that? Talk about a quickie you weren’t even gone for a whole 10 minutes. Had it been that long?" Anya's voice rang through.

"No Anya, and keep your voice down! People might hear you." The last thing Lexa needed at the moment was someone overhearing Anya's inappropriateness, or thoughts of Clarke's soft lips on her own. She would torture herself with those images later. Now, it was time to get back to work.

The cab ride home was worse than a murder interrogation. Clarke was sure that if she told Raven and Octavia that she had stashed a body in the apartment, there would have been less questions. They took turns firing questions at her, talking so quickly that Clarke didn't even bother trying to get a word in until they were done.

"What was she wearing?"

"Did she look hot?"

"Did you get her number?"

"Did you ask her out?"

"Are you going to call her?"

"Where was I this whole time? How did I miss this?"

"How come you didn't come get us and introduce us?"

The questions finally stopped and they looked at Clarke expectantly. Clarke took a deep breath and answered. "She was wearing a beautiful dress that looked very nice on her. She looked lovely. She gave me her business card and I did not ask her out. I don't know if I will call her yet," looking at Octavia she added, "You, were busy mingling with that Lincoln guy who works with Raven, and I didn't come get either of you because it was a very brief encounter and I didn't see her again all night."

Both girls frowned and looked at each other deciding not to push further. When they reached their building, they paid the cab fare and made their way inside. As they walked into their apartment, they each took off their heels and dropped them by the door. Octavia turned on the TV and Raven took the ice cream out of the fridge while Clarke took out spoons from a drawer it was all a very practiced ritual after a long night out. They didn't have to tell each other what they were doing; after years of living together, through college and after, they just knew. They all sat on the couch and ignored the TV as they recounted the night's events.

"Another successful event" Lexa tapped her beer to Anya's as they sat on the bar stools. Around them, the cleaning crew was picking up all evidence of the party.

"Yeah, and you got yourself a hot date!" Anya teased.

"No, Anya I didn't. I just gave her my card, that's all. I don't even know if she will call." But they both knew that Lexa was hoping she would get a call. "Well at least now you can stop walking down 5th like every day, you stalker" Anya quipped and elbowed Lexa gently in the ribs.

"Shut up. Help me pick up the rest of the equipment so we can go. I have a very handsome pup who's waiting for me at home." Lexa smiled at the thought of Aries waiting for her by the door.

When Lexa got home, she opened her door and just as she thought, Aries was waiting patiently for her. She loved her place but she hated coming home to an empty house. Aries saved her from lonely days. Getting him was the best impulse decision she ever made. One minute she was feeling lonely and the next, she was at the pound and bringing Aries home. It was love at first bark. She made her way to her room and went through her bedtime routine mindlessly. As she lay in bed, she thought of Clarke. Her mother would say that it was fate that they kept running into each other, but Lexa wasn’t one for superstitions. She would say however, that blue was quickly becoming her favorite color. She hoped she would call. If only so she could hear her soft melodic voice and if she was lucky, see those eyes one more time.

"Let's get some sleep Aries, before we go walking down 5th again" She laughed softly to herself and closed her eyes.

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bughead-is-riverdale · 7 years

Text

Odd One Out Part 1 - Soulmate AU (Jughead x Reader)

Summary: Due to a secret that she hasn’t shared with anyone, the reader doesn’t think she has a soulmate, or at least that she will never find him. As the majority of people find their soulmates before they turn eighteen, the reader knows her time is running out on her eighteenth birthday. Unknown to her however, Jughead knows exactly who her soulmate is. He just never told her.

Approx. 2030 words

Part 2 here Part 3 here

In theory, everyone has a soulmate. One person who is perfectly suited to another in every possible way, someone you can spend the rest of your life with. As a means to find your other half, everyone is born with a tattoo – approximately the size of a coin –which is situated just where the collarbone meets the shoulder on everyone’s left-side. Only your soulmate holds the identical tattoo to you, your tattoos forming a matching pair that are unique from the rest of the world, just like soulmates are. The majority of people find their soulmate before the age of eighteen, some slightly later, but a very small minority never find their other half. The world is a big place after all.

This in mind, you brushed your long hair off your shoulder and stared at your soulmate tattoo in your bedroom mirror. You loved the simplistic style of it, just the outline of a grey crown that matched perfectly with your olive-toned skin. Recently however, you feared that you may not ever find the boy you shared it with; sometimes you doubted that he even existed. Now, on your eighteenth birthday your tattoo seemed like a symbol of dread rather than hope, statistically you were running out of time to find your other half and you wouldn’t be able to have anyone else. What if you married a man who had also not found his soulmate and, ten years or so later, the mysterious woman appeared and he left you? As much as it hurt, that was a chance you were willing to take if you had to, rather that than spend the rest of your life alone. You were suddenly pulled from your thoughts by the sound of a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in” you called, quickly pulling on your cardigan to hide your tattoo. Now that you were eighteen and still without your soulmate, you suddenly felt the urge to hide your mark, like you were embarrassed of it.

“Happy Birthday Y/N!” a familiar voice chimed. You turned around, forcing a smile onto your face as your best-friend Veronica Lodge strutted into your room, gift bags hanging from her smooth arms like Christmas decorations.

“Ronnie!” you groaned, “I said no presents!”

“Yes, and you were being ridiculous and morbid” she scolded, “I won’t have you fritter away your eighteenth birthday over some boy that you might find tomorrow.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve found your soulmate” you pointed out.

“Yes, and sometimes I wish there was a soulmate return policy. Archie was no help when it came to selecting your birthday presents!” she huffed.

“You told him it was my birthday?” you squealed, utterly horrified. Veronica just rolled her eyes at you and began unloading presents onto your bed. She didn’t understand your horror at turning eighteen, but she didn’t know that there was one extra reason why you may never find your soulmate; it was a secret that only your mum knew.

Your birthday was on a Saturday so you didn’t have school to distract you, but thankfully it also meant that the event was easier to hide from the prying eyes of Riverdale High. You spent the morning with Veronica – who was the only person you had told about your birthday – and reluctantly opened all your presents which must have cost a fortune, something she didn’t fail to remind you. You practically snorted with laughter at the abundance of Victoria Secret lingerie that Veronica had selected for you.

“Firstly, who is going to even see this?” you pointed out as you waved a dangerously dark-red thong in her face. Veronica snorted and rolled her eyes again. “And secondly, you’re mad at Archie for being useless at selecting lacy underwear for your best friend?” This time, you both burst into fits of giggles.

The two of you had planned to meet Archie and Jughead for lunch at Pop’s, just as you did every Saturday. Veronica had tried in vain to persuade you to let her book a table at one of Riverdale’s more upmarket restaurants and get her dad to pay for the four of you to go out for dinner, but you had refused. Accepting the offer would mean accepting your birthday, and consequently accepting that you were one step further away from finding your soulmate. Veronica often talked about how it was a shame that you and Jughead weren’t soulmates, she joked that if we were, it would complete the ‘core four’ as she called your group of friends. Although you would never admit it out loud, you couldn’t help but agree with her. You had been attracted to Jughead ever since you moved to Riverdale six years ago, his dark curly hair and sea-green eyes were just your type, and you loved the way he always listened to you with genuine interest. You knew that Jughead hadn’t found his soulmate either, but you also knew that the lucky girl wasn’t you. Although you had never actually seen his tattoo, you had worn vest-tops around him often enough that he must have seen your soulmate mark hundreds of times and he never commented on it, so you naturally assumed that you two weren’t a match.

You felt strangely comforted by the familiar smell of chips and burgers as the welcome bell chimed and you and Veronica stepped into the diner. You didn’t even have to scan the diner to know that Jughead and Archie would be in your usual booth in the far corner of the room. As you approached, you noticed with surprise that there was already a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake on the table in front of your normal seat. Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed that Jughead was grinning at you.

“How did you know that this was exactly what I wanted?” You asked, laughing at his goofy expression.

“Call it a lucky guess. It’s on me, the birthday girl can’t pay for her own dinner!” he teased. Your eyes narrowed and your lips pursed slightly.

“And I don’t suppose you knowing it was my birthday was a lucky guess?” you moaned, glaring at both Archie and Veronica. Unsurprisingly, Archie looked the guiltier of the two.

“Why didn’t you want anyone to know that it was your birthday?” Jughead asked, his green eyes staring at you intently, trying to read your expression. He was walking you home after lunch, as Veronica and Archie had left together, and you shivered slightly as the cool breeze licked at your torso, you pulled down the sleeves of your cardigan and looked nervously up at the sky which was blooming with dark grey clouds.

“I just don’t like the attention” you shrugged, trying to appear casual. Jughead knew all about your fears of never finding your soulmate, but you didn’t want to be reminded of them.

“You know that I don’t believe you, is it because you’re still hung up on this soulmate business?” he queried.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, but I don’t understand why you’re not” you laughed coldly, “aren’t you afraid of being alone?”

“I’m used to it. Besides, whoever she is, she wouldn’t want me anyway” he spat, surprisingly bitterly. You glanced at him in shock; he had never even shown the vaguest interest in the whole soulmate complex before. You wondered whether his bitterness was the reason why he never had his tattoo on show.

“Don’t be ridiculous Juggie, she would be lucky to find you” you whispered. You didn’t notice how he stared at you for a second longer than usual, his thin lips parted slightly as if he wanted to tell you something, but he thought better of it.

After Jughead dropped you home and headed home himself, you changed into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a vest-top and settled down with your laptop. You ignored the stack of birthday cards that your mum had left on your night-stand and began absent-mindedly scrolling through your social media pages. To your relief, you didn’t have any birthday messages aside from one from your Aunt Emma – your mum’s older sister – in New York. Something did catch your eye though, a local news story was trending on your twitter feed, a story entitled Riverdale’s Drive-In Down for Demolition.

You snatched up your mobile and quickly dialled Jughead’s number. The Riverdale Drive-In was one of his favourite places and you hated the idea that he would have to find out about its fate on social media. You cursed when he didn’t pick up and dialled again. No answer. Without even stopping to pick up a jacket, you rushed from your bedroom and quickly pulled your trainers on, practically bursting through the front door as you yelled something to your mum about going out. Ten minutes later, you were outside Jughead’s trailer in the pouring rain, completely out of breath, and banging on his front door.

“Y/N what’s going on? Are you alright?” Jughead stammered as he threw the door open and regarded you with surprise.

“It’s about the Drive-In, I didn’t know if you already knew but– ” you cut yourself off as your eyes actually regarded the boy in front of you. You realised that you must have woken him up as you noticed that his hair was dishevelled and his grey beanie was missing, his eyes framed with sleepiness. That wasn’t what had caught your attention though. He was wearing a pair of navy blue sweatpants but his chest was bare and, just where his collarbone met his left-shoulder was the outline of a grey crown, approximately the size of a coin, and identical to your own.

“Your... your... oh my god Juggie... we’re soulmates” you stuttered as you pointed at his tattoo, your hand shaking with excitement. You looked up at him, your joy taking over your expression as your eyes lit up and you beamed widely. Your smiled faltered as you met his gaze though, he didn’t look excited, he didn’t even look surprised, he looked guilty. “You knew... you knew all this time and you never told me.” It wasn’t a question, he had seen your tattoo enough times over the years to realise that it was identical to his own. A sinking feeling took over you and your head began spinning, you wanted to throw up. The universe was even crueller than you had anticipated; you thought that – because of the circumstances of your heritage – you would never find your soulmate. But you were wrong. Your soulmate was standing right in front of you, and he didn’t even want you. This was worse.

“It’s not like that Y/N!” Jughead protested.

“Then what is it like? Please enlighten me!” you hissed at him, the heartbreak you felt evident in the way your voice cracked.

“I’m not good enough for you, I never have been” he whispered.

“Not good enough for me? We’re perfect for each other, that’s what being soulmates means! All I ever wanted was a soulmate, you knew that! I can’t believe you would be so fucking selfish!” you were almost yelling now, he winced at your words.

“My parents were supposedly soulmates, they broke up. They hate each other! How am I supposed to believe that soulmates are perfect for each other after watching that?” he snapped back at you.

“AT LEAST YOUR PARENTS WERE SOULMATES!”

You heard Jughead gasp and you snatched your arm away when he tried to reach for you. Taking a shaky breath, you backed away from his door and ran in the general direction of your house, your chest shaking violently with the effort of suppressing your tears. Once you had made it out of the trailer park, you lent against the wall and sank to your knees, unable to hear anything except the pounding rain around you. The secret that you had tried to hide for so many years was finally out in the open. You’re parents weren’t soulmates. In fact, you had never even met your dad. But worst of all was the realisation that the universe had never intended for you to happen. You were a mistake.

TAGLIST: @kelly27crickett @cjhorseback @rory-is-in-ravenclaw@littlefearsdoodles @happyyjensen @dr-tardis-who

#jughead x reader #jughead jones x reader #jughead imagine #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagines #soulmate au #jughead jones

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shy-fairy-levele3 · 7 years

Text

Our House

Strange Magic Week- Day 7: When We Are Old

Inspired by this playlist

AO3

Bog’s liver spotted hand shook slightly and he tightened the grip on the handle of his cane. Getting old sucked. Today though Bog liked to believe the minor tremor was a result of his being nervous and not simply old age. Sweet heavens, 85 years old and she could still make him nervous. Bog shook his head at the thought. Today was their 60th wedding anniversary.

Bog shuffled around their Livingroom, stopping every so often to inspect one of the many pictures placed around the room. Some hung on the walls, a neat row lined the top of the fireplace mantle, and still more sat guard on end tables. The pictures were not just a record of their time together but also an art piece on the change in technology. From the black and white polaroid’s of their wedding to the crisp digital photos of their grandchildren’s birthdays.

Bog looked at one photo, it had been taken the day they moved into this house. They stood on the front stoop, he and Marianne each held a cat in their arms, Bog held the white one, Imp they had called him, and Marianne held the grey tabby, Lizard. For five long years the cats had filled the otherwise emptiness of the house. Bog turned away from that picture, to look at another one, the day they brought home the twins.

Waiting for that call had been one of the hardest things Bog and Marianne had to endure. At last the adoption centre called, a new baby needed a home. They had been willing to take any child in need of a good home, never dreamed that when they got there they would have a choice.

“Would you like a boy or a girl?” the kind lady had asked.

When she further explained that the children were twins, Bog and Marianne hadn’t even discussed it.

“We’ll take them both.”

That was how Ian and Innis became part of the King family.

There were many summer time pictures taken out in a field by the lake, a place he and Marianne had frequented both before and after they were married. The orange and brown plaid blanket they had shared was prominent in so many of the photos. Halloween pictures and Christmas pictures blurred together, Bog didn’t know where the time had gone.

The next picture his eyes landed on was a good example of that. It was from their 50th Wedding Anniversary party. It was a good photo of Bog, Sunny, Pare, and Gus all dressed in matching red and cream striped jackets. They had done a barbershop quartet routine to Billy Joel’s The Longest Time. It had been the highlight of the evening. Afterword’s Marianne had told him how handsome she thought he looked, “just like Dick Van Dyke in Marry Poppins” she had said. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Bog had asked in return, rather cheeky. It turned out to be a good thing. Had that really been ten years ago?

There was a tell-tale creak from the upstairs hallway and Bog made his way to the foot of the stairs. He didn’t know how after all these years the sight of Marianne could still take his breath away, and increase his heartrate- something that could be fatal at his age. Oh well, as his Da had always said, “it’s better to die, doing what you love.”

Marianne was dressed in a lilac poodle skirt-complete with poodle, white stockings, and a white t-shirt, over which she wore a wool cardigan that matched her skirt. Dawn, who had been a seamstress her whole life, and was still quick with a sewing machine at age 75 had made her sister’s skirt for the occasion. Marianne did not look her 79 years, though her once rich brown hair had faded to a lovely dark grey. She had dyed the tips purple for the anniversary and her upcoming 80th birthday.

Bog himself still had a full head of hair, but the vibrant black had turned to what Marianne described as “a rather fetching shade of silver.” Bog had styled it as though he was still in his early twenties, and living in the fifties. He had on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and had even shrugged on his old leather jacket, which now hung off his bent frame. The look would not be complete without his large, round and thick-rimmed glasses, and of course his polished wooden cane. A greaser with glasses, who would have thought?

Too preoccupied checking one another out, neither heard the car pull in the driveway so both of them jumped when the loud knock came at the front door.

“Shall we?” Bog asked, extending his arm to his wife.

The whole thing was pretense, she knew he needed the support more that she did, but still Marianne played along, slipping her arm though his. The way he was just looking at her, had made her feel young again. One glance from him and Marianne was once more a blushing bride of nineteen.

On the front porch, which had been upgraded from the small concrete step it had once been to a fully functional wood deck, complete with fancy pillars and a three seater swing, stood their youngest grandson, Kieran, dressed head to foot in white 1930’s limo driver livery. His long white-blonde ponytail hung out the back of the cap.

“Oh Bog, you didn’t!” Marianne gasped at the sight of the car in the driveway.

“Aye, Ah did” Bog grinned at her like the fool he was and she took the opportunity to playfully slap his arm, which was followed by a quick peck on the cheek.

In the drive sat a white 1936 Rolls-Royce Phantom III, the exact same car Marianne’s father had rented for them for a week as his wedding present to them. Marianne remembered thinking it must have cost a fortune back then, the car had already been 20-21 years old at the time, she couldn’t even fathom the figure it would cost today.

“Bog you shouldn’t have” she chastised, but still the thought that had gone into it, Marianne couldn’t begrudge him that.

“The kids chipped in a bit” he confessed, unable to stop smiling at the absolute pleasure reflected in Marianne’s face.

“Nan, Gramps, your chariot awaits” Kieran declared, waving his hand out towards the car, he even had on white drivers gloves.

He hurried over to open the doors for each of his grandparents, and waited until each of them was settled before closing their doors.

Kieran hopped in the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Hello, my name is Kieran and I will be your driver this evening” Kieran declared.

Kieran was not far past sixteen and had successfully passed his driving test the first time round’, something which neither of his two older siblings had achieved.

Ian had blessed them with three grandchildren, only the first of which Marianne’s father had lived to meet. Innis and her wife Katie were awaiting confirmation on their adoption process, although Katie brought two step-grandchildren with her, from her first marriage. Marianne hopped they had been lying about the delay and that they would bring the new baby with them today as a surprise.

Marianne couldn’t believe how much their family tree had grown. Sunny and Dawn had three of their own, and each of them had two or three kids. She and Bog had gone from zero to two in a heartbeat, which still made her ache. When the twins were two Marianne had become pregnant for a short time, she was almost ready to tell Bog the joyful news when she had suddenly lost it.

He had of course been heartbroken when she finally got the courage to tell him two weeks later, but he had also been angry at himself. Bog had made an appointment that day for a vasectomy, not wanting Marianne to go through that pain of loss ever again. They had both cried but the twins were their light that brought them through.

***

The rented hall was full of friends and family that erupted into a loud applause when Kieran ushered his grandparents in the door. Marianne and Bog had waved graciously as if they were royalty. The room was decorated with still more photographs, pictures of old friends, new friends, and friends long since passed.

Marianne and Bog danced a jive to Dan Seal’s Bop, and then a waltz to Valdy’s Renaissance. Then they had to take a break because of Bog’s back and knees and Marianne’s hips. Getting old sucked.

Marianne slipped up only once, calling Kieran by Ian’s name and Ian had pulled his father aside.

“Mom’s getting worse” Ian said to his father, deep concern in his voice.

“She’s fine” Bog assured, but he had his own doubts. His biggest fear was that one morning he’d wake up and she wouldn’t know who he was.

The other day they had been out driving and Marianne had come to a full stop at a green light. He hadn’t been allowed to drive for years.

“We just don’t want you guys going all The Note Book on us. Have you thought any more about selling the house?”

“Pah, The Note Book” Bog said waving his hand in the air as if the title of the movie left behind a bad smell after being spoken.

“If anything” Bog said, raising a finger as if he was giving a lecture, “Your mother and I will go the way of Cocoon.”

“Alien abduction dad, really?” Ian asked raising a skeptic eyebrow.

“The Note Book” Bog said, in counter protest, “do you really think your mother and I watch that romantic crap?”

“Dad, it’s mom’s favourite movie” Ian deadpanned, before turning serious again, “It’s just, I’m worried about you guys, we all are.”

“Don’t worry so much son” Bog said, laying a comforting hand on Ian’s shoulder, “It’s no’ something ye have any control over.”

“Losing you both at the same time would just be really hard” Ian confessed, “and I just know that if mom goes first-” Ian couldn’t finish his own sentence.

“It would kill me too?” Bog finished, it was something that echoed his own thoughts on the matter.

Innis and Katie did surprise everyone by bringing along Ben, a sweet baby boy of eight months old, already sprouting dark curly hair. Sarah and Jenny tagged along sheepishly, knowing that they weren’t unwelcome but still feeling out of place.

Everyone had a grand time and no one was surprised that when they cut the cake Marianne managed to get a swipe of icing on her husband’s large nose.

***

Bog awoke in the middle of the night to find the space beside him in bed empty. It was one of his worse fears come true. Marianne had gotten up and wandered off somewhere. Bog felt around on his nightstand until he found his glasses. As soon as Bog removed the blankets to get out of bed he felt the chilly night air and knew Marianne hadn’t gone far. Bog quickly wrapped himself in his brown fleecy house coat and slipped his feet into some slippers and padded out onto the small balcony.

Marianne sat in one of the white wooden Adirondack chairs, with her coat, hat, boots, and scarf on right over her nightgown, a packed suitcase sat next to her. She just sat there gazing up at the starry night sky.

“Going somewhere love?” Bog asked cautiously.

It was another minute before she seemed to notice he was there.

“Bog?” she asked, turning to look at him, “what are you doing out of bed?”

“I was kind of wondering the same thing about you” he replied.

“Oh, I’m going home” Marianne said with firm resolution.

“You are home love, come back to bed.” Bog’s voice was gentle, not pressuring, and etched with sadness.

“The garden folk say I can’t stay long. But we’ll see each other again.” She turned back towards the sky and Bog saw a tear glisten at the corner of her eye.

Bog sat out with her a while longer but the autumn night chilled him quickly and he soon made his way back to bed.

It wasn’t long before Bog woke again, this time Marianne back in bed beside him. He felt relieved, they still had time.

***

In the morning there were fresh flowers in the vase on the kitchen table, as there had been every morning since they moved into the house. Neither Bog nor Marianne had ever picked or bought the flowers. Bog knew as long as there were flowers in the vase Marianne would still be with him.

She entered the kitchen, a plum housecoat wrapped tight around her humming a song, a song Bog knew well….

“I’ll light the fire, while you place the flowers in the vase…”

#strange magic #strange magic week #butterfly bog #when we are old #our house #i'm sorry if you cry #lofe #love #old people #bog king #marianne

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venfx · 7 years

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Oh boy, I got another idea for a prompt, something I was discussing in the Discord: After the day Phil and Rita spent together and her waking him up, he's steadily getting better and better. But it's not totally linear. Though being good to people is making him feel good, it feels more like a distraction from the larger aching emptiness still inside him. Even as he finds new ways to fill his time, he still sometimes longs for an end in sight. One morning, in a moment of weakness, he makes (1/2)

one more attempt. However, he doesn’t actually die this time and wakes up in a hospital bed. For once, it hits him how real his body and what he’s been doing to it truly is. He’s pissed at himself for falling back into this and doubts if he’ll ever be able to just look on the bright side like Rita said to. To his surprise, before the day resets, his mom shows up at the hospital to see him, having urgently booked a flight over there. She’s pretty angry and scared and upset and gives him some harsh words, and she also loves him so, so much. They talk and she stays with him until it’s 6AM again.

why do you make me hurt him so. anyways this was a doozy but also weirdly fun to write mostly because i just got my EMT certification and am therefore allowed to throw in useless medical jargon

(again sorry mrs. connors you don’t deserve this)

send me fic prompts here!

CW for suicide mention/attempt

It’s impossible to put into words just how much Phil despises the inventor of the alarm clock.

“That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He slams his hand down onto the snooze button.

He’s never been a morning person.

Lately, his days look a little like this: sit up, stretch. Answer the phone on the first ring. Make sure to get the girl’s name- it’s Lisa- and wish her a good morning before heading out the door. Compliment Jonathan’s new sneakers, fix the coffee pot, meet up with Ned to chat about his family.

Then, get coffee for the crew and Rita, do the broadcast, change a flat tire, rescue a cat. Practice the piano, charm his way into staying a few extra hours.

Try to save the old man.

Fail to save the old man.

Drive Ralph and Gus back from the bar.

Wake up, do it all over again.

And, like, okay, it’s not all bad.

Phil’s a new man, with a new lease on life and a steadily improving rendition of Hot Cross Buns to prove it. The more time he spends here actually living, the more he grows to love each and every resident of Punxsutawney.

He has friends here, as bizarre as that sounds.

Even if those friends don’t, y'know, remember him.-Here’s the thing: sometimes, his life feels like the weird second act of some two-bit play. The fact that the curtain will never fall is irrelevant.

Helping people of this small, quiet town should be enough.

It is enough.

In terms of eternity, he’s won the fucking jackpot.-Still, it goes without saying that some days are easier than others.

“That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He’s getting better.

He is.

It’s just, well. Sometimes.

Sometimes, he isn’t.

Here’s another thing: Phil spends the night before his seventeenth birthday locked in his parents’ bathroom with a bottle of his mom’s sleeping pills and a flask of gas station tequila he’d bribed off of his sister’s boyfriend a month earlier.

He’s sixteen years, three hundred sixty four days, twenty two hours, and seventeen minutes old.

People keep telling him that it’s going to get better, that he’ll be okay, that his problems are small and that everyone feels like this every once in a while.

Maybe they’re right, but Phil’s not stupid, either- he knows that people aren’t supposed to be this empty, knows that there’s something in him that’s always going to be small and broken and wrong.

He’s just so fucking tired.

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

Twenty three years and a thousand endless days later, he barely thinks twice before swallowing the whole damn bottle.

Phil wakes up.

He wakes up.

He’s not in the bed and breakfast.

For one panicked moment, he thinks maybe-

He jack-knifes up, yanks the cannula out of his nose. “Excuse me!”

There’s a nurse passing by his room. She turns, looks at him with a special cocktail of muted pity and vague disgust, which Phil very politely ignores because he is a nice fucking person now, thank you very much.

“Sorry, but um,” he rasps, voice hoarse. It sort of tastes like something crawled into the back of his throat and died. “What’s today’s date?“

“February 2nd, dear. I’ll go tell the doctor that you’re up.”

February 2nd.

Right.

He wakes up again to a woman in a white coat standing at the foot of his bed, reading off of a clipboard.

“Phil Connors, 40, found unresponsive underneath a bridge near Patsy’s Park. Presented with mild hypothermia, bradycardia, hypotension, and significant respiratory depression as a result of an alcohol potentiated benzodiazepine overdose."

Phil just wants to go back to sleep.

“ER administered 0.8mg of Flumazenil intravenously upon admission and performed a gastric lavage shortly after. Vitals have been stable since seven this evening.”

“Huh,” he mutters. “Thought it’d been longer than that."

His doctor sighs, like she’s unimpressed or something, which strikes him as kind of rude.

Phil almost died.

God.

"Mr. Connors, you went outside half naked in the middle of snowstorm to chase 220 mg of clonazepam- that’s fifty five pills, by the way- with a bottle of raspberry vodka-”

“It was grape, actually-”

“Regardless,” she says and, great, her voice is all gentle now, like being nice is going to change anything. “I don’t think we need to pretend that this was accidental.”

“Shit, what gave it away?"

"Mr. Connors, was this your first attempt?”

And Phil-

Phil thinks of the toaster.

He thinks of suffocating, of bleeding out, of freezing to death, of walking into traffic, eyes shut, over and over and over again. He remembers the rope and the car battery and the fucking clock tower.

He thinks of the screwdriver- and, okay, that had been a little excessive, but whatever.

He feels sick.

"Yeah,” he says, slumping back against the pillows. “Yeah. First time.”

They keep him on mandatory 72 hour watch.

Not that it really matters, but.

Phil hates hospitals.

The phone rings when Phil’s on his seventh episode of Law and Order: SVU. He’s eaten, like, four things of green Jello and an entire bag of ice chips.

On screen, Ice-T is arresting a pedophile with a clown fetish.

He’s pretty sure his nurse is avoiding him.

This kind of feels like a new low.

“Mr. Connors? You have a visitor. Should I send her up?”

Phil absolutely does not want to see Rita right now, but also feels like he owes her for blowing off the broadcast and then literally almost dying.

Plus, he’s been trying to be less of an ass lately.

Really.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he says with a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Phil Connors, what the fuck.”

That’s not Rita.

He’s going to kill Rita.

“Mom? Jesus, who called you?”

“Is that how you greet me? We haven’t spoken in six months, and all I get is a Jesus-who-called-you?”

Joanne Connors is sixty four years old and 5'2”.

She carries herself the way some people carry machine guns.

“So, I’m in a hospital bed, don’t know if you noticed-"

"I noticed that you look like shit,” she says, scowling at the IV in Phil’s arm like it’s done something to personally offend her. “So, I’ll reiterate: what the fuck.”

Phil’s been nursing a low level migraine since he woke up and the shrillness of his mother’s voice adds a special new dimension to this whole experience.

“Thanks, mom,” he says with a sigh. “Did you really fly all the way out here from Cleveland?”

“No, I was in the area,” she says bitingly. “Of course I flew out here. Your producer called-”

“Associate producer, actually-” he says, just because he’s feeling a little bitter.

“-saying that you were in the hospital, that it looked bad, that they found these pills-”

“I’m fine, oh my god-”

“-so, yes, I did fly out here in the middle of a goddamn blizzard. That flight cost me five hundred dollars, by the way-”

“I never asked you to-”

“-and that doctor you have is a real piece of work-”

“Mom! You’re yelling."

She stops abruptly, looking stricken.

With horror, Phil realizes that her eyes are welling up.

He hates seeing his mom cry.

"You stupid, stupid boy,” she whispers. “You selfish, thoughtless child. What were you thinking?”

Phil can’t remember the last time his mother hugged him, but when she does, it feels like china, like glass, like something breakable and precious all at once.

“Mom, I-”

He doesn’t know what he wants to say.

There’s something ugly in his chest, some horrible emotion that makes his throat tight and his eyes burn. He can feel his mother’s tears seeping into the flimsy fabric of his hospital gown.

Phil grips her back like he’s drowning.

Eventually she pulls away, dabs at her eyes with a trembling hand.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “Phil, I’m so sorry.”

“Um. Don’t be. This isn’t your fault,” he says thickly, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I just- uh. It’s been a long day.”

She chuckles weakly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Phil doesn’t want to talk about it, and for once, she doesn’t push.

They just sit there instead, watching crappy crime procedurals and eating Jello. She tells him blatantly untrue stories about his childhood and pretends to be interested when he delivers a ten minute lecture on introductory quantum mechanics (his newest research project) and a half hour summary of the first four seasons of Game of Thrones (that he only watched for Rita).

At one point, she leans over to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you so much, Phil. So much.”

He closes his eyes.

Here’s a final thing: the day always resets in the time it takes him to blink.

In that brief moment or space between seeing and not-seeing, a cosmic rubber band yanks him backwards, pulls him taut through time. He knows it’s happening before it happens, even though he’s never actually seen the clock hit six.

"That’s right, woodchuck-chuckers, it’s-”

He slams a hand on the alarm.

It’s a new day.

#ghd #groundhog day the musical #ask #itsqueermrmarvin #prompt fill

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trentonifnr462-blog · 5 years

Text

10 Things You Learned in Preschool That'll Help You With australia travel packages from singapore

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New South Wales

Victoria

Queensland

Northern Territory

Western Australia

Tasmania

South Australia

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?@eloisejulier

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Most effective Destinations To go to In Australia - Excellent Ocean Street

Proposed by Jack and Jenn from Who Needs Maps

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Advisable by Aditi from Diary of a Cusp

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@anitababic3

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@scottypass

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@jessea_h

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@emelianjellachas

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Proposed by Crystal from Castaway With Crystal

Uluru is most likely Australia’s most recognisable landmark. But this big chunk of rock is also extremely sacred to your regional Anangu Aboriginal men and women listed here, an area of wonderful ability. It's the centre on the universe and the house from the ‘Earth Mom’. Within the outskirts of Uluru, in just modest caves, Aboriginal rock artwork may be observed that is certainly tens of thousands of decades previous. They are thought of nationwide treasures and Uluru can be a UNESCO Earth Heritage web site.

However you may however climb to the highest in the rock and experience the unquestionably magical views, doing this is some extent of controversy concerning the community Aboriginal persons as well as nationwide park assistance that manages the region. Because of this, vacationers are seriously inspired not to climb. Uluru rises 348 meters earlier mentioned the ground, but the bulk of this rock lies underground. It has a circumference of 16 kilometres and may be walked all over in full using a cleared route.

Alice Springs hostels from $27 an evening

18. Darwin

Finest Locations To go to In Australia - Darwin

Recommended by Edit From Edit Around The World

Despite the fact that Darwin may be the money town on the Northern Territory, it is very tiny – but it really’s basically a terrific spot for shopping. Additionally, for historical past fans, it’s a true treasure town With all the Museum and Art Gallery in the Northern Territory and several other aboriginal art galleries. On the flip side, experience seekers can check out the Crocosaurus Cove, where by the Cage of Dying experience presents the thrill of staying in precisely the same atmosphere, more precisely in the special cage during the h2o, along with a 5m extended croc. Crocodile can even be discovered on a lot of cafe menus all over Darwin. From crocodile sandwich to croc pizza, The variability is massive and very delectable. It preferences somewhat like hen, but it surely arrives in a much increased price tag.

Using a tour within the Adelaide river gave me the chance to see the methods of the crocs when they’re preparing to assault. Litchfield

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emilianoqjcb299-blog · 5 years

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The Most Pervasive Problems in singapore australia holiday packages

What do you think of whenever you listen to the term Australia? Kangaroos, beach locations, and ‘g’working day mate’? Effectively Of course, Australia does have its fair share of ‘roos, even so the land Down Beneath offers Much in excess of that! We’re speaking awe-inspiring mountains, epic highway outings, massive national parks, stunning waterfalls…the listing really is endless. We’ve rounded up some top Aussie travel bloggers who've specified us their guidelines about the best locations to visit in Australia – and you will be specific that whatsoever you’re seeking within your excursion, Australia can provide it plus much more. Continue reading for twenty-four of the greatest sites to go to in Australia!

New South Wales

Victoria

Queensland

Northern Territory

Western Australia

Tasmania

South Australia

Best destinations to go to in New South Wales

1. Blue Mountains

Very best Locations To go to In Australia - Blue Mountains

Encouraged by Rachel and Jeremy with the Kiwi Couple

If you’re looking for a dose of mother nature, the Blue Mountains are to suit your needs. Only one.five several hours with the hustle and bustle of Sydney, it can be visited as each day journey or perhaps a weekend getaway, depending on your vacation timeframe. Make sure you have time to go to Wentworth Falls. This place presents walks of varying problems with gorgeous views on the waterfall, and it’s just a brief push from the leading party – The 3 Sisters. These renowned rock formations are the highlight of this picturesque postcard spot.

In case you head to Echo Point you can obtain an epic view of them, or hop on Scenic Globe’s gondola. As you’re there, don’t miss out on the Scenic Railway – the steepest passenger railway on earth! Very last but not the very least, Lincoln’s Rock is a must. With sights from the wide landscape and a magic formula tiny cave great for seeing the sunset, it’s the most effective stop into the working day.

Blue Mountains hostels from $17.eighty a night

two. Bathurst

Most effective Locations To Visit In Australia - Bathurst

Encouraged by Tara from Where Is Tara

Bathurst is among my favorite spots in Australia for numerous causes. One of them is my cousins have farms around. They allow me to remain whenever I pass through and bring me to cattle marketplaces, and that is a true novelty to me getting developed up in town. The opposite motive I love Bathurst is mainly because it is commonly ignored by travellers, In spite of acquiring a great deal of to supply. It’s the oldest inland metropolis in Australia and is also the site of the original Australian gold hurry.

Go to the T-Rex on the Australian Fossil and Mineral Museum, have a spin within the famous Mount Panorama Circuit. Or just grab a cup of coffee from Campos, have a stroll by Machattie Park and take a look at the commemorative plaque from Charles Darwin’s visit in 1836. For a unique day trip while in the Bathurst area check out the gold rush town of Sofala (it looks like a ghost town and it has a GREAT ebook shop), or head on the Jenolan caves for many organic natural beauty, limestone-model!

Sydney hostels from $fifteen a night

three. Sydney

Greatest Areas To go to In Australia - Sydney

Proposed by Rachel and Jeremy with the Kiwi Couple

Sydney is the biggest town in Australia – crammed with beautiful shorelines, pleasurable actions and great food items. Probably the greatest ways to view the beauty of Sydney is by having a calming stroll. An amazing Beach front stroll, and among the best, is from Bondi Beach front to Coogee Beach front. It offers magnificent views of the area’s popular rocky beaches, thin beaches and sandy shorelines. A further common stroll is along the Sydney Harbour Bridge walkway. Equally walks are no cost and therefore are a great way to take pleasure in Sydney.

We like finding up higher and seeing metropolitan areas from higher than. An ideal way To achieve this in Sydney is by performing the Skywalk at Sydney Tower. At 268 metres substantial, it’s guaranteed to Get the coronary heart pumping. You’re harnessed in however so it’s not (far too) scary! And at last, a necessity do of Sydney will be to eat your heart out. Test a deep fried Golden Gaytime ice cream from What The Fudge Cafe, you won’t regret it!

Sydney hostels from $fifteen a night

four. Byron Bay

Best Locations To Visit In Australia - Byron Bay

?@eloisejulier

Encouraged by Dane from Getaway From Exactly where

Byron is one of Australia’s leading vacationer destinations but should you’re willing to place in slightly do the job it is possible to however find some extra well concealed gems just out the again within the hinterland mountains. From innumerable waterfalls and swimming holes to unbelievable mountains and bush walks this tiny region hide much beauty. I'd personally propose commencing which has a hike to The underside of Minyon Falls for just a swim, a hike to the top of Mt Warning for an unbelievable sunrise, A different swim at Killin Falls and after that a hike on the Normal Arch. These are just a number of the most available but there's so a lot more when you’re ready to check out.

Byron Bay hostels from $25 a night

Greatest places to visit in Victoria

five. Melbourne

Ideal Places To go to In Australia - Melbourne

Proposed by Aditi from Diary of a Cusp

Melbourne has secured its place of one of the most liveable city in the world the seventh time in a very row. Most times see a diversified temperature – hail, sunshine, rain, wind – but that doesn’t impede the livelihood of Melbourne. Any provided day yow will discover an event, an show, a music gig, or perhaps a display to relish. You have entry to no cost trams throughout the metropolis circle to wander across without having outlaying a buck on transportation. Melbourne is usually a multicultural metropolitan with copious dining establishments serving slavering foods and cafes for your caffeine deal with – Melbourne’s espresso is some of the ideal on this planet.

Melbourne hostels from $18 an evening

6. Terrific Ocean Road

Most effective Areas To go to In Australia - Terrific Ocean Street

Proposed by Jack and Jenn from Who Requirements Maps

Lorne is a well-liked quit together The good Ocean Road (also to the Twelve Apostles). It’s the proper destination to take it easy along the seaside, it's possible Opt for a surf, try to eat some of the very best fish and chips, and benefit from the landscapes. Jack is usually a surfer and likes to head out to The nice Ocean Street for the surf. However the vacation isn’t complete with no quit in Lorne to get a parma plus a pot write-up-surf. Lorne also has some stunning walks and waterfalls to investigate, like Erskine Falls and Phantom Falls. My most loved, is for those who go over the appropriate year, you may capture a number of whales at sunset. Seize a wine in a seaside restaurant and enjoy the serenity.

7. Mornington Peninsula

Greatest Sites To go to In Australia - Mornington Peninsula

Encouraged by Aditi from Diary of the Cusp

Mornington Peninsula is a peninsula Positioned southeast of Melbourne, just an hour generate from town. It's been an immensely common working day trip or staycation internet site to the people of Victoria, especially Melbourne for decades now. Mornington Peninsula has a great deal of to supply to its website visitors – seashores, nationwide parks, scenic sights, relaxing spas, vineyards, golf classes, mazes, camping sites and so way more. This plethora of actions along with the quick distance causes it to be so appealing to go to all through prolonged weekends like Queen’s Birthday, Christmas, Boxing Day, New Calendar year and so on. Sampling some Pinot Noir though from the peninsula is a necessity.

Greatest sites to go to in Queensland

eight. Sunshine Coast

Very best Sites To go to In Australia - Sunshine Coastline

Recommended by Sophie from Adventures of Soph

The Sunshine Coastline has obtained to generally be Among the most attractive strips of coastland in all of Australia, boasting gorgeous, long white beaches lined with wellness aware cafes and boutique clothing shops. Any time you aren’t soaking up the sunshine on one of many many beaches, you can head out towards the hinterland for each day of mountain climbing or hop from the crushed monitor to find secluded swimming holes and waterfalls with not a soul in sight. Noosa Nationwide Park and fairy pools is surely an absolute will have to do, just stay away from the midday hurry with the crowds.

Sunshine Coastline hostels from $twelve.50 a night

nine. Brisbane

Greatest Sites To go to In Australia - Brisbane

@anitababic3

Proposed by Erica from A lady Who Wanders

Brisbane is my hometown and an area I intend on staying for a really long time. Why? As it has everything! Compared with its capital town counterparts of Sydney and Melbourne, Brisbane delivers all of the perks in a fraction of the fee. High on my list of areas to go to is Southbank, the house of executing arts and Queensland lifestyle together with back again alley bars and river front eating. Southbank also attributes Australia’s only inner-metropolis Seashore, a man-created marvel which normally takes you far from the hustle and bustle of town and into a tropical oasis with sparkling waters and white, sandy beaches.

West Stop is another suburb I hugely propose traveling to, with its hipster vibe, insanely good espresso and street marketplaces to help keep you buying several hours. For those who’re following a see of the town from the major, head approximately Mt Coot-tha for its breathtaking 360 views of the city plus the bordering hinterland. I also remarkably recommend climbing the Brisbane Story Bridge For an additional Distinctive addition in your excursion, because the watch is beautiful as well as adrenalin rush one never to be skipped!

Brisbane hostels from $fifteen an evening

ten. Gold Coastline

Ideal Areas To go to In Australia - Gold Coastline

@scottypass

Encouraged by Erica from A Girl Who Wanders

If you’re searching for a desired destination which includes all of it, search no more and acquire on your own to the Gold Coastline! With arguably a lot of the ideal beaches in Australia, the Gold Coastline is my “go-to” spot through the warm summertime months. But when lazing about on tender, white sandy seashores or swimming inside the crystal clear ocean doesn’t choose your fancy, the Gold Coast Hinterland is just a short generate from the Seaside and it has many of the most awesome walking tracks and viewpoints in Queensland.

My favorite issue concerning the Gold Coast is how the vibe is incredibly laid back but also electric powered, with locals and tourists alike savoring the “Sunday sesh” atmosphere with the day along with the party scene that concerns life as soon as the Sunlight goes down. For those who’re scheduling on viewing the Gold Coastline whenever soon, my personal recommendations for the very best sites to visit are Burleigh Heads beach plus the Lamington Nationwide Park.

Gold Coast hostels from $21 a night

eleven. Airlie Seashore/Whitsundays

Ideal Sites To go to In Australia - Whitsundays

@jessea_h

Proposed by Jack and Jenn from Who Desires Maps

Airlie Beach front is an ideal location to get a taste of almost everything. You'll be able to embark on an journey to the Great Barrier Reef, sail for the Whitsundays, try to eat a lot of the freshest meals straight out with the ocean, and wander many of the most beautiful coastal walks in Australia. Did I point out usually there are some awesome beer gardens?

Airlie Beach front is a great hub to satisfy other backpackers that have a hankering for journey. We experienced so much fun going on all types of nautical adventures. We even husked our own coconuts and played with turkeys and wallaby’s on the island. Airlie Beach is also recognized for its male-built lagoon, an outstanding place for beachside/poolside cocktails.

Airlie Beach front hostels from $28 an evening

12. Noosa

Finest Locations To Visit In Australia - Noosa

@emelianjellachas

Suggested by Fanny from Minka Guides

Rising up, I always read about Noosa from other Australians as this aspiration coastal vacation spot. Remaining with the state, I didn’t really realize why till I eventually frequented several yr in the past and fell in appreciate. In contrast to many other legendary coastal towns, Noosa isn’t stuffed with towering skyscrapers And large shopping malls. Actually, the community council don’t let anybody Develop better in comparison to the trees, ensuring that this sub-tropical town retains its incredibly beautiful seaside town vibe – even though also staying an exceptionally well-liked location to go to!

The leading Seaside can get fairly active with sunbathers, so I’d advocate doing a trek via nearby Noosa National Park to 1 of its stunning and deserted stretches of sand. A forty five-moment wander along the Tanglewood Observe can take you to definitely Alexandria Bay, wherever small, translucent fish swimming in the shallows (and the occasional nudist) are your only corporation. Absolute paradise.

Noosa hostels from $24 an evening

13. Atherton Tablelands

Very best Sites To go to In Australia - Atherton Tablelands

Advisable by Sophie from Adventures of Soph

Consider unlimited waterfalls, rolling inexperienced hills dotted with dairy cows and rustic, relatives operate cafes. All within an hour or so’s travel from Cairns, the Atherton Tablelands is the perfect gateway for the countryside, whether or not it be for per day trip or for an extended weekend. The easiest method to see the Tablelands will be to hop in a car, seize a location map and just push. The waterfall circuit of Elinjja Falls, Millaa Millaa Falls and Zillie Falls will not be to get missed and if you happen to find yourself there on the final Saturday of your month you should definitely look into the Yungaburra marketplaces.

Atherton Tablelands hostels from $twenty five a night

fourteen. Townsville

Most effective Places To Visit In Australia - Townsville

Encouraged by Sam from Sam Around The World

Boasting palm laden Seashore fronts, a ninety% prospect of sunshine and warm temperatures all yr round, Townsville is surely an complete ought to on any North Queensland itinerary. Wander the strand and learn about wealthy WWII heritage or take a trip to the Great Barrier Reef and dive the S.S Yongala shipwreck – it’s one of the best dives on this planet. And it doesn’t halt there, the town is household to the vibrant nightlife, an impressive meals scene and quick access to The gorgeous Magnetic Island. Should you time your trip appropriate you’ll have the possibility to knowledge one of the islands infamous total moon get-togethers!

Townsville hostels from $eighteen an evening

15. Cairns

Best Sites To go to In Australia - Cairns

Proposed by Nicola from Polka Dot Passport

You will find not numerous spots on the globe in which you can devote your morning snorkelling via a vibrant underwater playground that is part of the globe’s major single construction of dwelling organisms, and also your afternoon dipping into turquoise drinking water holes, canopied by The most assorted and oldest rainforests on the planet. Cairns is a gateway to not one particular but TWO all-natural entire world heritage internet sites, the Great Barrier Reef as well as the Daintree Rainforest, making it a pretty Exclusive spot to visit. Don’t leave without the need of executing a horse journey alongside Cape Tribulation Beach front, taking a trip out on the GBR or going croc-spotting alongside the Daintree River.

Cairns hostels from $12 a night

16. Whitehaven Beach front

Best Spots To Visit In Australia - Whitehaven Seaside

Advised by Dane from Holiday getaway From Where

Whitehaven Seashore is really a 7km stretch of coast located in the Whitsundays. It truly is most simply accessible from Airlie Seashore, unless that you are Blessed ample to own a yacht. The Beach front is popular with locals and holidaymakers alike but when you choose to camp there you'll have the Beach front all to oneself and just A few other Fortunate campers for sunset and sunrise. The white colour of your sand plus the extraordinary blues from the drinking water make this a truly exclusive vacation spot that is consistently sighted in almost every ‘greatest beach on this planet record’.

Cairns hostels from $twelve a night

Very best spots to visit in Northern Territory

17. Uluru

Greatest Destinations To go to In Australia - Uluru

Recommended by Crystal from Castaway With Crystal

Uluru might be Australia’s most recognisable landmark. But this enormous chunk of rock is likewise very sacred to the nearby Anangu Aboriginal individuals listed here, an area of great energy. It's the centre from the universe and the home from the ‘Earth Mother’. Inside the outskirts of Uluru, in compact caves, Aboriginal rock artwork might be found which is tens of 1000s of several years previous. These are generally viewed as nationwide treasures and Uluru can be a UNESCO Earth Heritage site.

Nevertheless you can nonetheless climb to the best from the rock and encounter the unquestionably magical sights, doing this is a degree of controversy amongst the neighborhood Aboriginal persons along with the countrywide park company that manages the realm. For this reason, visitors are closely inspired never to climb. Uluru rises 348 meters previously mentioned the bottom, but the bulk of this rock lies underground. It's a circumference of sixteen kilometres and might be walked close to in comprehensive using a cleared path.

Alice Springs hostels from $27 a night

eighteen. Darwin

Very best Places To Visit In Australia - Darwin

Encouraged by Edit From Edit All over the world

Even though Darwin may be the capital town in the Northern Territory, it is very compact – but it’s essentially an incredible place for purchasing. Moreover, for record lovers, it’s a true treasure metropolis Along with the Museum and Artwork Gallery of the Northern Territory and a number of other aboriginal artwork galleries. Conversely, journey seekers can look into the Crocosaurus Cove, in which the Cage of Death knowledge delivers the thrill of currently being in a similar environment, a lot more exactly in a very Specific cage from the h2o, together with a 5m lengthy croc. Crocodile may also be located on lots of cafe menus around Darwin. From crocodile sandwich to croc pizza, The range is big and really delectable. It preferences somewhat like rooster, nevertheless it will come in a Considerably increased value.

Getting a tour to the Adelaide river gave me the opportunity to begin to see the methods in the crocs when they’re making ready to attack. Litchfield National Park is a good place to see crocodiles australia tour inside their organic habitat – moreover it's got great swimming places located in a high sufficient altitude the crocodiles

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#Australia #Tourist in Australia #Undiscovered Australia #Australia Vacations

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