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#thank you ann crouch blessings to you
spirk-trek · 4 months
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Twin Destiny Fanzine | Ann Crouch, 1983
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m-jelly · 1 year
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Hey! Guess who? It's me Moth Anon and I'm here to request Bunny!Levi x Wolf!Reader! Basically How to Tame a Wolf but the roles are reversed!
-Moth Anon
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I had to bring this back <3 Thank you @ladycheesington for designing this for me. Also, thank you to @ladycheesington and @skittlelover69 for talking ideas with me for this prompt! You're both a blessing <3
Wolf taming
Pairing: Bunny!Levi x Wolf!Fem!Reader
Genre and tags: Future AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, small town romance, cute, reader is a love sick puppy, farmer Levi, tattooed Levi.
Concept: You move out of the busy city to a sweet little town. You set up a nice small cafe and do some deliveries. You deliver some food to a well-known farmer and you're instantly smitten. You talk with Levi and discover he is your fated mate. Levi also feels the pull and you both keep finding excuses to meet each other and be together. You both become inceperable.
Taglist: @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @levisbrat25 @li-anne @nyxiieluna @nbinairyn @strawberrybunny123 @galactict3a @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6
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You hummed a little song to yourself as you packed up some cakes, tea and a sandwich for an order. You tied it all up with a bow and smiled at your hard work. Your fluffy tail wagged as you admired your hard work.
You picked up the box and changed your sign around to out on delivery. You smiled at your sign saying tasty paws. You smiled brightly and knew this small town was your future. You were already successful and people were so nice to you.
You hurried through the streets and waved at everyone you went past. You were the only wolf in the town that was filled mostly with rabbits and foxes. You thought people would be scared of you, but people were fascinated and excited that you'd moved in.
You moved a little faster through the town and enjoyed the breeze running through your hair and fluffy wolf ears. You felt so free in this town compared to the cramped city. You were living the dream every single day and it was all thanks to the sweet bunny mayor, Erwin.
You slowed down when you came to a farmer on the edge of town, right next to the lake with the mountains as the view. You gasped in delight and knew that the Levi Ackerman who ordered from your place must wake up in the morning to the most perfect views in the morning.
You stopped by the fence and looked out at the field to see a muscular man. Your eyes widened at the shirtless man glistening in the sunlight due to the sweat on his body. You shivered at the tattoos and slight scars on him. You watched him lift up a huge barrel of hay causing his muscles to flex. You growled a little as your inner wolf screamed mate to you. You admired his black bunny ears tied back to stop the floppy things from falling into his eyes.
You couldn't control yourself. You let out a howl of delight causing Levi to look over. You slapped your hands over your mouth and dropped down to crouch so you were out of view. You whined and whimpered a little as you felt so embarrassed by your actions.
You hit your head with your fist. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. You're just a wild savage idiot."
"Well, I wouldn't say that."
You looked up to see Levi leaning on the top of the fence looking down at you. You squeaked and fell back on your bum. "Ah!"
Levi tilted his head. "A wolf being afraid of a rabbit, now that's a surprise."
You shot up to your feet taking Levi by surprise. "I'm not afraid."
Levi blushed hard as he took you in. He felt his heart throb and a pull towards you. He wiggled his nose just a little and took your scent in. He felt a click inside him and realised he was looking at his mate. He gulped hard.
You leaned closer and sniffed him. "Mate." You gasped and blushed hard. "Sorry."
Levi moved closer to you. "Mate."
You whined a little before holding up your bag. "I b-brought y-you your o-order!"
He reached over and took the bag. "Thank you. Would you like to come in for a drink?"
"Yes!" You blushed at answering quickly. "I-If you d-don't mind."
Levi gave you a tiny smile. "Come."
You jumped over the fence and hurried after him. Your tail wagged hard as you were welcomed into the home of your mate. You slipped your shoes off before looking around his sweet wooden home. You enjoyed the creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet and the welcoming smell of tea was drifting through the air.
You shivered and whined as Levi's natural scent invaded your senses. You panted a little and moaned in delight. You were overcome with visions and desires to bite Levi and give him a mating bond. You slapped your hand over your nose and mouth and tried to stop yourself from jumping on Levi.
Levi stopped in his kitchen and gazed at you. He blushed a little and knew very well what your reaction was. "Would me opening a window help?"
You blushed. "I uh...I don't know."
Levi unpacked his lunch and made a cup of tea for you and him. He cut up the food and made it ready for sharing. He led you to the dining room and sat with you. He watched you eat with him and smiled a little. His heart fluttered in his chest as he kept watching you.
Levi reached out and pet your ears and head without even thinking. He locked eyes with you and blushed hard. "Oh, sorry."
You blushed a little. "Don't be, I like it."
Levi smiled and fussed you more. He chuckled when you leaned on the table and rested your chin on your arms. He smiled when you closed your eyes and your ears went back. "Wolves are so easy to tame."
"We're big softies." You looked up at his ears. "Your ears look cute. Are they floppy?"
Levi took the hair band out of his ears to show his ears were floppy, but he could raise them a bit. "They are."
You reached over and touched them. "So soft." You leaned and looked at his fluffy black tail. "You're so handsome."
Levi locked eyes with you. "Thank you."
You smiled at him. "I like the earrings in your ears."
"Thank you."
You leaned your chin in your hands and gazed at Levi as your tail wagged. "Can I visit you a lot?"
Levi blushed hard. "I would like that. I know we're mates, so I would like to get to know you more."
You grinned at him. "I can't wait."
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You frowned as you focused hard on decorating a cake. You pulled back and smiled brightly at the carrot cake you'd made. You jumped up and down in delight. You placed it in your display case and grinned at your hard work.
You looked up and felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Levi's pickup truck pull up. Your tail wagged hard as he climbed out of his truck and waved at you. You waved excitedly at him.
Levi picked up two crates out the back and walked into your small cafe. "Afternoon."
"Bunny!"
Levi walked behind the counter. "Wolfie."
You blushed. "What have you got for me?"
He put the crates down. "Some fresh fruit from my farm."
You gasped in delight. "You picked fruit for me?"
He blushed a little and opened the crates. "Anything for my mate." He sighed. "Make sure you clean this. I've already cleaned it, but just do it as well."
You nodded. "Yes." You ran over to the display case. "Levi, look! Carrot cake!"
Levi stared at the cake. "Carrot cake."
Your smile faded. "I've insulted you...I'm so sorry! I just..." You welled up. "I'm sorry."
Levi cupped your face. "Don't cry." He wiped your tears away. "I love carrot cake. I was surprised you made it and it wasn't sold out already."
You smiled softly at him. "I'm glad you're not mad at me."
"I would never be mad at you."
You giggled. "Cause I'm a cute wolf right?"
He kissed you taking you by surprise. You both knew you were mates, but all you did was just hang around each other and meet up often. You went on some dates, but no one would say it was a date. There was always tension between the two of you, but no one made a move. You both kept holding back so you could get to know each other.
You'd been dating in a sense for a month. You'd helped each other out with your jobs. You'd spent hours talking away to each other and not realising what the time was. You'd talk into the night before falling asleep next to each other. You were connecting on such a deep level, but you wouldn't take the plunge. Levi was now taking it.
Levi released you a little before gripping your hips and yanking you against his body. He wrapped his arms around you and gripped your back tightly. He felt a tingle within his body and his mind at ease. He smiled against your lips. He felt like he had found his soulmate.
Your tail wagged hard as you clung to Levi. Your heart fluttered in delight as you finally kissed your mate. Your life seemed complete and everything was falling into place. You wanted to be with him for life. You wanted to mark him and keep him as your own.
Levi pulled back from your lips and panted. "Wolfie."
You smiled. "Bunny."
"Tch, damn wolf brat."
You giggled. "What? You're a cute bunny." You leaned up and bit his ear and growled. "Mine."
Levi bushed bright red. "Y-Yours?"
You released his ear. "I uh...I want to make you my mate for life. I-I uh...I would need to mark and it'll be a temporary mark and then on a full moon, I will mark you again to make you mine for life." You blushed bright red. "O-Only if you want to. I-It's a big commitment and umm...I mean...I don't blame you for not wanting me for life. L-Look at me."
Levi held your chin and lifted your head. He smiled a little at you. "I am looking at you and I see the most beautiful and cute little wolf I've ever seen. She's kind, caring, loving, smart, funny and talented." He nuzzled his nose against yours. "How could I not want you?" He kissed you and hummed in happiness. "You're perfect."
You jumped into Levi's arms and attacked him with kisses. You growled at him. "Mine."
Levi gasped and blushed. "Th-that sounds nice."
You growled against his ear. "Mine."
Levi moaned. "Yours."
You kissed the side of his neck and made your way down to the crook of his neck. "I will mark you when you're ready."
Levi held your hands. "Would...would you like to live with me? You'll get to wake up to those lovely views I have."
You kissed him. "You're the only view I want to wake up to."
Levi blushed. "Tch, damn cute wolfie." He hummed and hugged you tightly. "Mine."
You squealed in delight. "Yours!"
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coghive · 2 years
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Cece Winans Wins Artist of the Year at Dove Awards
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Nashville, TN – The 53rd Annual GMA Dove Awards were handed out Tuesday night, October 18th, 2022, at the Allen Arena in Nashville, Tennessee to a sold-out audience. The show aired Friday, October 21st, exclusively on TBN and was simulcast on SiriusXM The Message. Co-hosts Erica Campbell and Chris Tomlin led the all-star night of music with performances from across the music community including Gospel, Latin, Hip Hop, and Southern Gospel.  Iconic artist CeCe Winans made Dove Awards history this year as the first Black female solo artist to win Artist of the Year. When accepting her award, instead of an acceptance speech, she sang a few lines from the Andrae Crouch classic, “To God Be the Glory,” moving many in the audience to tears. She and co-writers for “Believe for It” were also awarded Song of the Year. Throughout her incredible career, CeCe has won a staggering 25 Dove Awards including the very first New Artist of the Year award in 1988 with her brother BeBe Winans. “It’s amazing when we come together and we love each other and we stand for righteousness, it’s amazing what God will do,” Winans said after accepting the award for Song of the Year. “It’s amazing what He’s already done. But He wants to do so much more. I’m believing for God to move in this industry greater than He ever has before. The God we serve responds to faithfulness and the testimonies I’ve heard through this song have blessed my life.” Choirmaster Ricky Dillard won his first-ever Dove award in the category of Traditional Gospel Album of the Year for his twelfth album,  Breakthrough: The Exodus (Live).  Young gospel queen Jekalyn Carr picked up the third Dove award of her career. This time, she won Traditional Gospel Recorded Song of the Year for her No. 1 hit, “My Portion.” For KING + COUNTRY, writer/producer Jeff Pardo, and Phil Wickham led the night with three awards each with Wickham winning Songwriter of the Year – Artist and Worship Album of the Year, Pardo winning Producer of the Year and For KING + COUNTRY winning Pop/Contemporary Album of the Year. Twenty-year old newcomer Anne Wilson took home two awards including New Artist of the Year and Pop/Contemporary Song of the Year for “My Jesus.” The latter was recently certified gold by the R.I.A.A. The night was packed with one-of-a-kind performances such as Steven Curtis Chapman’s career-spanning mash-up of his hits such as “The Great Adventure” and “Dive.” Phil Wickham and his electrifying band performed his current Top Ten single, “Hymn of Heaven.”  TobyMac thanked followers for their prayers and support following his son Truett’s unexpected death in 2020 before launching into a spirited  performance of “The Goodness” with Nigerian-born singer Blessing Offor. “Thank you for the kindness you showed me and my family as we walked through the deepest valley in losing my firstborn son,” he said. “…There were times I never thought I would ever write another song, much less an up-tempo song or a song that felt like joy. But God is good. He might not always give us what we want, or take away the pain, but He is right here with us. He doesn’t leave. He remains.” Here are a few of the other winners.  For a full list of winners: https://doveawards.com/awards/2022-winners/ Rap/Hip Hop Recorded Song of the Year: KB, nobigdyl – King Jesus Contemporary Gospel Recorded Song of the Year: Tasha Cobbs Leonard – Gotta Believe Gospel Worship Recorded Song of the Year: Maverick City Music ft. DOE, Jonathan McReynolds, Chandler Moore – Breathe Rap/Hip Hop Album of the Year: Lecrae 1k phew – No Church in a While Contemporary Gospel Album of the Year: DOE – Clarity Gospel Worship album of the Year: Tribl, Maverick City Music – Tribl Nights Atlanta Short Form Music Video of the Year: Tauren Wells ft. Aaron Cole – Fake It The theme of this year’s show was Sound of Heaven, highlighting how all the different styles of Christian and Gospel music come together under one banner of hope. “The music created by the artists assembled tonight covers a lot of ground style-wise,” said co-host Chris Tomlin, “but collectively they represent the sound of heaven.” Co-host Erica Campbell added, “We bring it all together to unite as one for the kingdom of God. One mind, one voice, giving glory to God. That’s the sound of heaven.” The 53rd Annual GMA Dove Awards are produced by the Gospel Music Association. Jackie Patillo and Justin Fratt serve as showrunners and executive producers, alongside Curtis Stoneberger and Paul Wright as producers. Russell E. Hall returns as director, Michael Nolan as scriptwriter, Scott Moore and Go Live Productions as production manager. Watch on TBN: https://youtu.be/U99EUjNoPOc Read the full article
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hrtiu · 3 years
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“Give me a heated argument. A good solid disagreement. And also the making up of it later :) I really think this is a hard one”  Thanks to @redsong​ for the prompt!
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Strictly speaking, Ahsoka didn’t really need to escort the Togruta colonists back to Kiros. It was a low-risk mission without any need of Jedi support, but Anakin had suggested the trip and Ahsoka had eagerly agreed. Ahsoka so rarely got to see the good that came from their efforts in the war, so rarely got to see the fruits of their labor. Accompanying the people she’d helped free from the Zygerrian slavers—her people—seemed like a good way to wash the foul taste of such a brutal, soul-crushing mission from her mouth.
She and the rest of Torrent Company flew the transports down to the the colonist settlement on the verdant planet’s surface, and the looks of relief on the colonists’ faces as they walked back into homes they thought they’d never see again eased some of the darkness that had settled on Ahsoka’s heart. First Umbara, then Zygerria—these past few months had been particularly bleak.
“Thank you so much for bringing us back to our homes. We cannot express the depths of our gratitude,” Governor Roshti said as he walked with Ahsoka and Rex into the Governor’s residence.
“It was our pleasure, Governor,” Ahsoka said.
“We will be holding a celebratory feast tomorrow. Please, stay and attend as our honored guests.”
Ahsoka glanced at Rex and the corner of his mouth quirked up—his version of an encouraging smile. They were hoping that Kiros would officially join the Republic, so it wouldn’t do to ignore their hospitality.
“We’d be honored.”
---
Ahsoka sat at Governor Roshti’s right hand at the head of the table, Rex on her other side. The table was heavy with Togruta delicacies—thimiar steaks, roasted cepa, even akul stew. She’d never really lived among her people, so Ahsoka didn’t have much of a taste for Togruta food, but she ate as much as she could handle to show her appreciation. At her side Rex enthusiastically bit into another hunk of thimiar steak, his enjoyment completely unfeigned.
“Maybe you were born into the wrong species, Rex,” she said, leaning over towards him. “You seem to fit right in as a Togruta.”
Rex looked up from his steak and sheepishly wiped the savory sauce from his mouth. “Sorry, Commander, I just don’t often get a chance to eat anything besides ration cubes.”
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “It’s flattering to our guests to enjoy their food.”
“Is that a Togruta culture thing?”
Ahsoka shrugged. “I’m not sure. I never spent much time on Shili.”
“Maybe you’ll get a chance to go someday,” Rex said, his eyes crinkling with the suggestion of a grin as he held her gaze.
Ahsoka found herself smiling back at him, a warmth in her chest making her feel light a giddy. She looked away quickly.
It had been like this since Rex had gotten back from Umbara, and it was terribly inconvenient. It had taken his near loss during that campaign to reveal how necessary he had become in her life, how his presence was like light—illuminating and coloring an otherwise dark world. She did her best not to think about it. Thoughts led to actions, and if she ever acted on these thrilling, terrifying feelings, she knew her life would change irrevocably.
She shoved another spoonful of akul stew in her mouth and forced the foreign food down, turning back to the Governor to compliment him again on the delicious feast. Then she took a sip of the madyam wine, easily her favorite part of the meal.
“Are you sure General Skywalker would approve of your drinking?” Rex asked, speaking softly to avoid being overheard.
Ahsoka shrugged. “They don’t have the same rules about underage drinking on Shili. And I’m not overindulging. It’s fine.”
Rex looked a little doubtful, but he let the subject drop.
The feast wound down and Governor Roshti showed them to their quarters. They’d be staying in the house of one of his daughters, in a guest suite that was as luxurious a home as anyone had access to in the colony. The rest of Torrent Company went back to the transport to sleep, but Rex was invited to stay with the family as well, having been heavily involved in the Zygerrian operation.
Governor Roshti’s daughter Daivi, a stately woman with elegant purple montrals, led Ahsoka and Rex to their rooms. The feast had gone late into the night, so the house was dark and the rest of the family already turned in for the night. At least, that’s what Ahsoka had assumed before a little boy no older than five darted out of a hallway and ran up to her, grabbing her hand.
“Are you a real Jedi?” the boy asked, bouncing with excitement.
“Yalit!” Daivi said. “What did I say about pestering our guests?”
“Oh it’s alright,” Ahsoka said with an indulgent smile. She crouched down to the child’s level and patted his red montrals. “I sure am a Jedi!”
“So you can use the Force?”
“Yep!”
“Can you do stuff like this?”
The boy reached out a hand and something in the air shifted. A ball halfway across the room—some toy must have left out—suddenly started rolling towards him, completely unaided. The room fell utterly silent.
The ball reached the boy and he gathered it up in his arms, then looked up at the adults surrounding him, staring slack-jawed. “Did… Did I do something wrong?”
“Sweetie,” Daivi said, her jaw tense, “It’s too late for you to be up. Go to sleep now, alright?”
Yalit looked around him, his eyes wide and his lower lip quivering. “Ok…” 
He hugged his ball tightly to his chest and walked dejectedly back to the hallway from which he’d come. The adults in the room watched him leave, then Daivi moved onward towards the guest quarters.
“Um, your son-” Ahsoka said, shocked that Daivi would just pretend nothing had happened.
“He’s a good boy, isn’t he?” she said with a nervous laugh, still soldiering on towards the door across the room.
“He’s Force sensitive!”
Daivi froze. “We… don’t know that.”
“He moved the ball with the Force! And I felt it—it was definitely the Force and not some random accident.”
Daivi turned around slowly, her white facial markings appearing especially pale in the dim lamplight. “If true, that is a great blessing,” her expression not matching the sentiment of her words.
“He should be brought to the Jedi Temple and trained. He needs to learn how to control his abilities,” Ahsoka insisted.
Daivi bit her lip, and her hands twisted nervously in front of her. She looked at Ahsoka pleadingly for a long moment, but Ahsoka had no idea what she was pleading for. This whole situation was making her confused and uncomfortable.
“Please, Master Jedi,” Daivi said, bowing her head low. “Yalit will be fine with us! He… he really doesn’t have very strong powers. He can barely do anything. It would be a waste of time for the Jedi Temple to train him.”
“That’s just because he’s not trained! If he were trained he’d pick up so much!”
“It… It… He’s too old, isn’t he?” Daivi said, looking near tears.
Was she worried her son wasn’t good enough? That was silly, Ahsoka was telling her the Jedi Council would be pleased to have him. It was strange that they hadn’t picked him up earlier, but she knew that children sometimes slipped through the cracks. The galaxy was such a big place.
“He’s a little older than the Temple usually takes, but I’m sure they’d make an exception-”
“Commander Tano,” Rex said, taking her by the arm and pulling her towards the guest rooms. “It’s late, and our host looks tired. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”
Ahsoka looked up at Rex in confusion, but his stony expression revealed nothing. She let herself be pulled, though, trusting his judgment.
“Well, thank you so much for hosting us, Daivi. We’ll see you in the morning,” Ahsoka said, following Rex into the guest suite.
“Good night,” Daivi said, her voice small in the retreating darkness.
Rex shut the door behind them and stopped in the middle of the room, his back to Ahsoka. “Are you really going to take that child away from his parents?” he asked, his voice low and calm but with an underlying tension that Ahsoka had learned to pick up on over time.
Ahsoka looked blankly at him, not sure what was wrong. “The Jedi Temple is the best place for any Force-sensitive child to grow up. It’s an honor to go there—a rare opportunity very few people are ever given.”
“Hmm,” Rex grunted, neither agreeing nor disagreeing but simply accepting.
He set their luggage down on the table in the middle of the sitting room and started for one of the guest rooms off to the right.
“Wait up, Rex,” Ahsoka said.
He stopped but didn’t turn back towards her. “Yes, Commander?”
Ahsoka pursed her lips. He was doing that thing. That thing where he disagreed with her but wouldn’t just come out and say it. “Come on. I know you have something to say.”
Rex’s head bowed and he shook it once before turning to face her. “It’s not my place to have opinions about the Jedi, Commander.”
“Well, I’m asking you for it. What are you thinking?”
He looked up, meeting her gaze with his own steely stare. “I don’t think you should take that child away from his family.”
Ahsoka raised her eyebrow markings in surprise, genuinely taken aback. Her first instinct was to say it was Jedi business and he wouldn't understand, but then that’s what he’d said and she’d insisted he tell her anyway. “Oh…”
“As I said, sir. It’s not my place to have opinions.”
Ahsoka’s brow furrowed. She knew Rex would follow whatever orders she gave him, but that wasn’t the point. She wanted him to agree with her. “It’s not like we’re stealing children from their parents, Rex. He’ll have a good life at the Temple—the best life. He’ll have training he can’t get anywhere else, a safe home to grow up in, a place of privilege and respect galaxy-wide. Most parents are thrilled when their children are identified by the Council.”
“Most parents, maybe. But obviously not these parents.”
“What are you trying to say, Rex? That it’s bad when the Jedi Council invites children to go to the Temple?” she said, getting annoyed. “That it was bad when I was taken to the Jedi Temple? That Jedi are kidnappers stealing unwilling children away from their parents?”
“I don’t know if that child is willing or not, but his parents clearly don’t want him to leave them. Are you going to take him anyway? Because if that’s what you’re planning on doing, then yes, I think it’s bad!” Rex said, his voice rising in volume with each word. By the end of his speech his skin had reddened and his golden-brown eyes flashed. Ahsoka had never seen him this angry before. Angry at her. Judging her way of life.
“Have you even considered that if the Jedi Temple don’t train that child, someone else might? Someone with bad intentions? Someone from the Dark Side?”
“He’s made it this far without being noticed by any Force users, so he’ll probably be fine.”
“Look, Rex. This is how it is for all Jedi. I won’t apologize for my people and our traditions.”
“You asked for my opinion, Commander.”
“Well, that was when I thought your opinion might be reasonable!”
Rex narrowed his eyes at Ahsoka and folded his arms across his chest. “You were taken before you could even remember your parents, but that’s not true for this child. He’ll remember his parents, he’ll remember that they willingly gave him up to strangers to be raised on a faraway planet. I won’t pretend that I understand all the Jedi ways, but I know something about not having parents.”
His words cut her like a vibro-blade, slicing right through everything she’d prepared to counter him. Ahsoka had never been one to shy away from conflict, but she’d never been in such conflict with Rex before, and it hurt. She wanted to run away and hide. She needed to find a way to end this conversation now.
“Well I don’t have much of a choice in the matter, anyway,” she said, arms crossed and shoulders hunched up under her jaw. “The Council has protocols for these kinds of situations, and it’s out of my hands. Judge me all you like, but that’s the way it is.”
Rex sighed and unwound his arms, letting them fall to his sides. “Look, little’un. I’m sorry. This is your world, and I trust your judgment. I’ll follow your orders.”
“Thank you.”
With that he retreated to his room, and Ahsoka gathered her things together and went to the bedroom opposite his. Sleep was a long time coming that night, and visions of Rex’s disappointed, angry, sad face haunted her dreams.
---
The next day dawned bright and clear on Ahsoka’s misery. Rest had provided little comfort, since sleep did nothing to fix the disagreement Rex. Yes, Rex had told her he’d follow her orders, but she didn’t want him to follow her orders because he’d been trained to no matter what. She wanted him to follow her because he believed in her and believed in what she was trying to accomplish.
What the night had done was provide Ahsoka with space to consider Rex’s points. She’d been raised at the Jedi Temple, and she knew what that life entailed. She’d rarely missed her parents—barely remembered them, really—and the Jedi masters, padawans, and younglings had been her family. It was a good life, and she knew that firsthand.
But maybe Rex had a point. Her parents had willingly given her up, and as far as she knew, the same was true for the others younglings at the Temple. As much as she didn’t want to accept it, Yalit’s parents obviously didn’t see their child being trained at the Jedi Temple as a blessing. And… well Ahsoka and Rex were both equally parentless in most respects, but he obviously felt differently about it than she did. His perspective was valid, even if it was different from hers.
Ahsoka got up and got dressed for the day, thoughts stewing all the while. Daivi knocked gently on her door and invited her to breakfast, so she emerged from her room and found her way to the dining table. 
The table was set with sizzling thimiar bacon and plom fruit, but Ahsoka found she didn’t have much of an appetite. Daivi and her husband sat at the head of the table, their expressions tight with worry, and Yalit sat next to Ahsoka, smiling and oblivious. Rex was across from her, shovelling thimiar bacon into his mouth and avoiding her gaze.
Ahsoka could speak up. She could explain that the Jedi Council believed all Force-sensitive children should be trained at the Jedi Temple, that it was a great honor, and that Yalit would be well taken care of for the rest of his life. She knew his parents wouldn’t object. The Jedi were a powerful organization in the galaxy, with near mythic status as warriors and defenders of the Republic. How could they refuse?
And Rex would support her. As he’d said last night, he trusted her. It wasn’t just that he had no authority to contradict her, he trusted her. She wanted desperately to be worthy of his respect.
She cleared her throat, and the eyes of everyone around the table turned to her. Daivi took Yalit’s hand in hers and squeezed.
“I think I may have had too much to drink at the feast last night,” Ahsoka said with a weak laugh. “I can hardly remember anything after getting home.”
A confused expression crossed Daivi’s face, then understanding dawned. Ahsoka thought she saw tears forming in the older Togruta’s blue eyes.
“It was a long night, Master Jedi.”
“It’s my own fault. I can’t resist madyam wine, and I’m not allowed to drink it back on Coruscant.”
“Well, you should take some with you then!” Daivi said, getting to her feet with a smile that was heartbreakingly hopeful. She rushed over to the pantry and pulled out two large bottles of wine—drink that Ahsoka knew was a luxury in this fledgling colony.
“Oh no, I couldn’t-”
“Please! Take it!” she said insistently, her eyes intense and pleading. She held the bottles out to Ahsoka, and Ahsoka took them, understanding that this was what the grateful mother wanted.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Ahsoka said, holding the bottles in her arms and getting to her feet. “We should be on our way—my Master is expecting us.”
Their hosts agreed and helped them pack up their things, insisting on carrying their luggage for them all the way back to the transport. Ahsoka and Rex climbed up the gangplank, and Ahsoka turned back to wave goodbye before getting aboard. Yalit smiled broadly at her from his perch in his mother’s arms, his red montrals jiggling back and forth with the force of his wave. Daivi and her husband clung tightly to each other like they’d just escaped slavery a second time. Ahsoka felt a pang of hurt, that they would be so averse to their child joining the Jedi, but she let the pang pass.
Soon enough the transport was in hyperspace, and Ahsoka hid in her quarters. She sat on the floor in a meditation pose, but serenity would not come. She simply stared at the floor, thinking of everything and nothing at once.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she said.
The door whooshed open and Rex walked in, a bottle of madyam wine in each hand. “Can I join you?”
“Sure,” Ahsoka said, still staring at the floor.
He handed her one of the bottles, then opened the other for himself, taking a long pull before setting it on the ground. Ahsoka opened her bottle and followed suit, the sweet liquid clinging to her throat as she swallowed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Rex said eventually.
“I know,” Ahsoka said, taking another drink from her bottle. “But your opinion means a lot to me. And I could see his parents wouldn’t take it well.”
“Thank you for listening.”
Ahsoka looked up and met Rex’s eyes, daring a small smile. He returned the smile, his eyes crinkling again in that way she loved. “I can’t promise I’ll always side with you,” she said, “but I’ll always listen.”
55 notes · View notes
buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years
Text
Meant To Be: Part 2
Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, drug use, descriptions of an overdose
Word Count: 2,384
A/N: Y’all can thank @wings-of-a-raven for this one….
Part 1
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Your step mother, Anne cooed in her deep Southern accent as you walked into your family run road side stand to see if your dad could use an extra hand behind the register. “Wait until your father hears the good news! And look at this handsome little bean!”
“Is he here?” You asked as you pushed your Chanel sunglasses on top of your head and dropped the strap of your diaper bag on the handle of the stroller. 
“He’s out back, sugar.” She said as she gestured behind herself, vaguely while making faces at Gage. “Hello! Hello!” Your poor son, who had never met his grandparents before, started to cry, which made the damaged half of you giggle the slightest bit since Anne was the reason your parents got divorced in the first place.
“Oh, let’s go find grandpa, bubba.” You cooed as you stepped to the side of the stroller so Gage could see you as you pushed the stroller toward the back. “Oh, my goodness I know! The mean scary lady got right in your face…”
“Oh!” Anne gasped at your back. “Well bless your heart!”
“My heart don’t need blessin’!” You called out over your shoulder with a smile. 
“The hell did you say to her this time?” Your dad, Ross called out from under his 1972 Ford pick up.
“I didn’t say anything.” You said with a shrug as you let Gage chew on your finger to calm himself down. “I need work.”
“What, did that bright California sun finally burn all your nonsense hopes and dreams away?”
“Nope, the piece of shit baby daddy did that in three minutes and twenty two seconds.” Ross sighed and dropped his wrench in the dirt he was laying on and slid out from under the car to look at you.
“I never liked that punk anyways.” He sighed as he looked you up and down. “You look good, kid.”
“Thanks, pop.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your freshly dyed red hair and put your sunglasses back on. “Now if only the modeling agencies would overlook the c-section scar like they did the thick thighs… and you know, the whole heroin addiction shit.”
“Yea, fuck those dumb shits.” He grumbled as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Wouldn’t know a good thing if it punched ‘em in the dick.”
“You need a hand behind the register?” You asked as you took an offered smoke and stood up.
“I’m guessin’ this little slugger’s taggin’ along?” He asked as you turned your stroller around so Gage could still see you when you smoked.
“Someone’s gotta count the register.” Your dad nodded his head slowly as he looked at his grandson and took a long drag of his cigarette.
“Fuck kinda name is Gage, anyway?”
“One that I fucking picked, asshole.” You laughed as you looked over at him. “Jesus, old man.”
“Gage.” He repeated with a shake of his head. “Sounds like a damn car part.”
“You’re an idiot.” You laughed as he pat your cheek and crouched down to go back to work.
“You leave your step-mama alone if you’re sitting at that register all day!” He called out as he picked up his wrench. “And don’t you be eatin’ all the damn honey sticks like your sister, neither or I’m dockin’ your pay, too!”
“Never liked the honey sticks anyways!” You called back before taking one last drag of your cigarette and heading inside. “I’ll take it from here.” You said as sweetly as you could to Anne as you pushed the stroller up beside the hand made counter your older brother had made when you were just a kid.
“Unbelievable.” She sighed as she grabbed her water bottle and got up from her little chair to go and complain to your dad. With a victorious smile, you picked your son up out of his car seat and smiled broadly at him as you waited for the couple customers in the store to pick out what they wanted.
——
“So the misfit daughter came back home.” Your older brother, Junior, said as he came into the farm stand the next morning with a giant teasing smile on his face. “Shit, when did he get so big?”
“I ask myself that every morning.” You sighed as you turned down the music playing on your phone, stood up, and headed around the counter to say hi to your brother. “How’s the fields?”
“Field-y.” He chuckled as he gave you a dirt covered one armed hug. “Still taking your clothes off for money?”
“You’re a fucking idiot. No, don’t touch my baby!” You snapped as you whacked at your brother’s hands. “I’m mad at you!”
“Oh, boo hoo.” He teased as he leaned over the side of the pack and play and reached in to brush his knuckle across Gage’s cheek. “Seriously, though. He’s adorable.” You thanked him softly and pulled your chair over to sit for a little bit while you monitored the morning delivery of the fresh produce. “You want me to kill him?”
“You don’t have to kill him.” You sighed as you ran your fingers through your hair. “I just… shit, I don’t even know anymore.”
“What don’t we know?” Your sister, Tabby asked as she came in the front with eggs from her chickens.
“What I’m gunna do with myself anymore.” You breathed as you rested your elbow on the counter and propped your head up on your palm. “I just keep asking myself where the fuck I went wrong in my life?”
“When you became a stripper.” Tabby said as she put the eggs in the old Coke fridge.
“I was never…”
“When you started dating that dickhead.” Junior interrupted as he pointed at your baby sister.
“When you though doing coke at dad’s wedding was a good idea.”
“When you dropped out of high school.”
“That time you drank a whole bottle of tequila at my graduation.”
“When you moved to California in the middle of the night without a word.”
“That time…”
“OK, enough you two.” You barked as you whacked Junior’s arm because he was the closest. “I get it, alright? I’m the black sheep of the family.”
“You two leave your sister alone and get back to work.” Ross said as he carried in a large box of cucumbers. “Shit ain’t gunna carry itself in.” You let out an exhausted sigh and gave your father a grateful smile as he paused just long enough to pat the counter. “You too, (Y/N). Those jelly jars won’t make it out on the shelves by themselves.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And you better turn that assholes music off!” He yelled as he headed back out to finish unloading the truck. You scowled at his back and grabbed your cell phone to turn off YouTube and the amateur videos you had been watching from MGK’s show in Salt Lake City the night before to get to work.
——
“Dre!” You shouted from your kitchen counter top, where you had been flirting with another model from the agency you worked for that had just done a Harley Davidson shoot with you earlier that day. “Baby!”
“Lookin’ dime!” Your friend shouted over the loud music as he came over to give you a hug hello. “Brought my boy I was tellin’ you about.” You sat up with a giant smile and looked at the tall, super skinny white boy that was standing in your crowded living room.
“Well fuck me runnin’ naked in a corn field.” You groaned with a giant smile on your face as you jumped down off the counter and pulled your very short black dress down over your thick thighs a little more. “(Y/N).”
“Call me Kels.” He said as he shook your head and looked you up and down. “Damn. Dre said you were fuckin’ fine but I’m pretty sure that don’t even fucking begin to cover it.”
“Oh, a charmer.” You teased as you laced your arm with his and turned toward your friend. “Can I keep him, pretty please? He seems like so much fun.”
“You’re in for a wild ride with that one.” Dre joked as he handed Kels a mixed drink from the alcohol you had lined up on your bar.
“Wait, you don’t want that shit!” You said quickly as you yanked the cup out of Kels hand before he could even take a sip. “Handsome guy like you deserves my personal fave. Help me.” With a glance back at Dre, he held on to your hips and gave you a small push so you could climb up on the counter. You teetered a bit in your heels as you grabbed a half empty bottle of Johnnie Walker blue label from on top of the cabinets, and turned back toward him. “I have to hide it from the Goddamn heathens.”
“You’re gunna break your fuckin’ neck, girl.” Kels laughed as he grabbed your hips again and pulled you off the counter. You squeaked when you accidentally landed on his toes and fell forward into his tattooed chest.
“Jesus, when the fuck did my Southern ass stop being able to hold my fucking liquor.” You giggled as you placed your hand on his chest to catch your balance. He shrugged as you looked up into the most blue eyes you had ever seen. “Damn. I really wanna keep you…”
“I think that can be arranged.” He said through a smirk as he gave your hip a small squeeze. A slight blush crept up your cheeks and you cleared your throat as you held up the liquor bottle.
“Drink to it?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
Colson laid in his bunk after yet another show, slowly flipping through photos from the cloud on his new phone from the first night you met. He remembered that night so well, the way your laugh made everything in his world feel right. The sweet noises he pulled out of you as he fucked you relentlessly in your bed while the party raged on the other side of the wall. And he especially remembered the small whine you made when he tried to leave.
“Stay with me.” You whispered as you reached up to try and rub your reddish pink lipstick off his throat. “Looks like you have to, because I marked you.”
He smiled at the memory as he got to the last photo from that small bunch; the one he had taken the next morning before you had to rush out the door for work, 20 minutes late because he couldn’t help himself but to take you once more. You were laying in bed in the shirt he had worn to the party, your hair was a mess, and you had a small smudge of mascara under your eyes that hadn’t come off the night before when you washed your face. To this day, he thought it was one of the most beautiful photos of you he had ever seen.
“Damn, baby.” He sighed as he brushed his thumb across the screen. “What the fuck happened to us, girl?” With a huff, he grabbed his cigarettes and got out of bed, even though it was nearly six in the morning and he had just finished a concert in Oklahoma. He plodded past the other bunks and flopped down on one of the couches as he looked at the same photo. He laid the phone down gently and reached for a joint, before grabbing a receipt off the table and a pen. He sat back in his spot and started jotting down ideas for a new song for you.
——
“It’s not fucking right.” Kels said for the hundredth time as he listened to the playback of your song. His band groaned as he stood back up and headed back toward the small studio in his tour bus. “Let’s do it again…”
“Kels.” JP sighed as he stuck his arm out in front of the door. “Man… you gotta stop.”
“Don’t gotta go shit.” 
“Bro!” The younger man shouted as he stood up and got into his ‘brother’s’ face. “The reason it doesn’t sound perfect is because (Y/N) isn’t the one hearing it. Shit is gunna sound rough as fuck to you until she hears it and we all fucking know it. You’ve been a royal dick for weeks…”
“Man, fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off!” JP roared as he shoved the singer back. “Go fucking find her already! Even if you don’t want her and you just want your fucking kid, go do something about it! Because you’re a fucking dick that none of us wanna be around right now!” Kels looked around at the rest of his crew, who were all either slowly nodding their head in agreement or looking away to avoid the wrath Kels had been dishing out the last few weeks, before he sighed loudly and took a step back to sit down on the closest chair. His eyes drifted outside to the scenery racing past and he caught a glimpse of a road sign that had a city he knew was near your hometown on it.
“Yo, pull over.” He said as he got up and headed toward the front of the bus. “Pull over!”
“We’re on the interstate…” The driver tried as he gestured to the road while Kels quickly pulled on his sneakers and grabbed his phone.
“Pull the fuck over!”
“Just take this exit.” Slim said, calmly as he pulled Kels back away from the door. “We’re going, OK?”
“What about Atlanta?!” His manager, Ashleigh, shouted as she finally looked up from the email she had been reading.
“Cancel it.” Kels said simply as he pushed down the seat above the stairs and sat down to wait impatiently. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and quickly googled the first and frankly, the only place he’d know where to find you. “Take 85 east. That way.” With a slightly hesitant nod of his head, the driver followed the artists direction as the guys and girls in the back of the bus simply sat down and shut up for the first time in a long time.
Part 3
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aslanjadecarlyle · 3 years
Text
all i have to do is dream (Barlyle)
all i have to do is dream
rating: T
pairing(s): P.T. Barnum/Phillip Carlyle, Charity Barnum/P.T. Barnum
warnings: light elements of trauma/PTSD, graphic imagery of a building fire
summary: He may be a failure of a man. A complete, utter fraud.
But, he’ll be damned if his mistakes cost Phillip his life.
———
Something snaps inside Phineas as he is forced to watch Phillip run back into the flaming inferno that formerly served as their home. Seconds later, relief mixes with horror in a nauseating cocktail as Anne Wheeler runs toward her brother.
They embrace.
She is safe.
Alive.
Which means—
“PHILLIP!” his own scream pierces his ears.
He had come back to chaos. Ruins. Utter despair.
Despite everything — despite all that he and his selfishness had put his circus troupe, the people who had come to be his extended family, through — he, truly, had never meant for this to happen.
Yet here, now, he is forced to watch, almost in slow motion, as his failures threaten to tear away the one person left that has shown him much more respect than he has ever deserved.
He may be a failure of a man. A complete, utter fraud.
But, he’ll be damned if his mistakes cost Phillip his life.
Phineas isn’t sure if he believes in a Heaven or a Hell. But, as he looks back into the desperate, devastated faces of his wife and daughters, it is his own father’s face that flashes in his mind.
If he’s to meet his Maker tonight, he hopes to high Heavens that, somehow, his father will still be proud of him. That his father, if he is watching his son, wherever he is, will know that his son tried.
It’s with this thought in mind, that he turns away from his family and runs straight for burning flame.
The screams of his wife and children echo in his ears. He doesn’t realize it at first, but there are stinging tears in his eyes.
Stepping into the burning building is like stepping straight into Hell. The heat, the smoke, the roar of the flame all quickly take over his senses, eyes watering as smoke clogs up his nose. It doesn’t help much, but he raises an arm to cover his face, and he attempts to squint past the tears that are already streaming down his face.
He takes his arm away from his mouth long enough to shout, “PHILLIP!”
No response.
Move. He has to move.
Covering his face once more, Phineas barrels forward. Sweat is running down his face, his neck, he can feel it running down his back and sticking to his clothes. It mats his hair, stings his eyes further. Vision blurring, he panics, wondering how the hell he’ll ever be able to see Phillip... if he can even find him.
Just as this horrific thought crosses his mind, panicking him further, he, quite literally, stumbles over his apprentice.
The man is crumpled on the floor, unconscious.
Temporarily forgetting his surroundings, Phineas gasps, and immediately chokes on the mouthful of smoke that he inhales. He crouches and gathers Phillip in his arms.
Phillip is totally limp, dead weight. But, his chest rises and falls with breath.
“Thank God,” Phineas mumbles. He feels sick with relief.
As Phineas straightens, hellbent on getting them both out of there, a low, threatening crack sounds from overhead.
The beam falls before Phineas can move out of the way. It strikes his back and he cries out, groaning, immediately buckling to one knee. Phillip nearly tumbles out of his arms, but Phineas holds Phillip to his chest, head bent, gritting his teeth.
The beam, mercifully, was not on fire... but he knows it is a sign of worse to come. He has to move. He has to move now.
Rising to his feet makes Phineas scream out in pain. It is pure adrenaline, nothing else, that forces his legs forward. He ducks his head low, trying to avoid the worst of the smoke and debris while keeping Phillip shielded.
Phillip, who is still limp and motionless in Phineas’s arms, despite Phineas’s cry. But, it doesn’t matter just as long as he keeps breathing.
When Phineas finally bursts out of the building, he sucks the fresh air into his lungs so quickly that he chokes on his own breath. He manages to lie Phillip safely on the ground before he, himself, falls, legs finally giving out on him.
He lands on his front, taking in a mouthful of dirt, but it is probably a blessing. His back throbs, demanding that he screams.
So, he does.
He screams and he screams and he screams.
*
“You... You saved me.”
Phineas is lying in bed, bare-chested, his back and torso wrapped in bandages. He is home from the hospital, but still on strict bedrest, and he’d been told two days ago that Phillip had finally woken up.
Now, he stares in amazement as Phillip himself stands in the doorway.
“Phillip,” he breathes, “What are you doing here? How are you?”
Phillip purses his lips. “I took a bit of an extended nap, but I’m all right now. I was discharged this morning. Charity let me in.”
Phineas’s gaze drifts up to the ugly scar below Phillip’s hairline, and he winces. “I’m so sorry.”
Phillip ignores him. His voice is thick. “P.T., Anne told me that you... ran in after me. You saved me.”
“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to let you die, not because of me.”
“You traumatized your own wife and daughters.”
“They would have been more traumatized had you died. The girls love you, you know.”
At this, Phillip turns away. Phineas frowns.
“Is something wrong?”
Phillip still won’t look directly at him. Phineas watches as he parts his lips, then hesitates.
“Phillip! Phillip!”
Caroline and Helen come barreling into the bedroom, and, ignoring their father, run straight for the young man still standing between the door and the bed. Caroline hugs him, squeezing tight, and Helen tugs incessantly at his hand.
Phineas laughs, but there is caution in his voice as he says, “Careful, girls. He just got out of the hospital.”
“They’re fine,” Phillip chuckles, ruffling Helen’s hair. She beams up at him.
“Phillip, did they have to do an operation?” Caroline asks, eyes wide.
“No, no, nothing that serious.” Phillip hesitates again, very briefly, and says, “Your daddy saved me.”
“We watched him run in!” Helen exclaims.
Phineas winces.
“Phillip, will you play with us?” Caroline asks.
“What do you want to play?”
“We got some new dress-up!”
As they lead Phillip out of the room, each girl pulling him by one hand, Phineas chuckles to himself. From down the hall, he hears Helen exclaim, “Let’s put a pink bow in his hair!”
“I think blue,” Caroline pitches. “It’ll match his eyes.”
“Pink!”
“Blue!”
Once their voices fade, Phineas is left alone for only a few minutes before Charity appears in the doorway.
“Knock knock.”
Phineas smiles, hazel eyes soft. “Hello, darling.”
She looks around. “I take it the girls stole Phillip?”
Phineas laughs. “You may have to rescue him soon. I’m half-afraid they may try to fit him into a dress.”
Charity smiles, but doesn’t say anything as she crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. She smooths his hair back, and he takes a hold of her hand in his.
“Is something wrong?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.
“He loves you, sweetheart.”
Phineas blinks. “Who?”
Charity chuckles. “Who do you think?”
Phineas’s eyes fall to the door. She nods.
“Phillip?” he asks in disbelief.
She nods again, soft smile on her lips. “Haven’t you noticed?”
“I...” Phineas falters.
“And, I know you were afraid of losing him.”
“Well, of course. He’s my apprentice. My friend. I wasn’t going to let him... to let him...”
Phineas pauses, chokes up. His eyes feel suddenly wet.
“I know that look, Phin. You don’t see him as ‘just your apprentice,’ and you and I both know it.”
Phineas gulps. “Even if... I did, hypothetically, feel... more for him. I promised you, after Jenny Lind, I wouldn’t—“
“Phin,” Charity sighs. He looks at her.
“I was upset at you because you kissed a woman you barely knew—“
“She kissed me,” Phineas interjects, “I swear, Chairy, I—“
“I know that now.” She squeezes his hand. “But, you didn’t have to go on tour, alone, with her.”
Phineas nods. “I’m sor—“
“As I was saying, Phillip is different, and I know that. I know Phillip, he is a dear friend, and I know you love him. I think you know it, too.”
Phineas looks down into his lap. She cups his face in her hands, makes him look up at her again, and peers fondly into his guilt-ridden eyes.
“You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to — but, I think you do. So, if you decide to act... you have my blessing, Phineas. It’s okay.”
She kisses his nose and straightens up
“Now, I should probably rescue him before the girls eat him alive,” she chuckles.
With that, Charity leaves Phineas alone with his thoughts.
He realizes, after she’s gone and he’s left in silence, that he can hear Phillip’s laughter. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Phillip properly laugh before. And, the delighted peal of laughter from his daughters follows immediately after. They are down the hall, presumably in the girls’ playroom.
He looks toward the doorway, and his heart aches.
*
Phillip offered to pay the entire rebuilding of P.T. Barnum’s circus. He, without being asked, offered up his entire savings, and, once Phineas healed enough from his own injuries, they spent days, weeks, rebuilding everything from the ground up.
Weeks went by, and Phineas, in acts that were totally uncharacteristic for him, always backed down before he could talk, alone, with Phillip.
Now, Phineas carries Helen on his healed back, and Caroline runs ahead of him. The tent looms, proud and tall, ready for their very first performance tomorrow.
Helen gasps in his ear. “Daddy, it’s beautiful!”
He beams. “Isn’t it?”
“Can we go look around?” Caroline asks.
“Of course,” he smiles, lowering Helen to the ground.
No further invitation needed, Caroline and Helen bolt, giggling as they disappear under the flap. Chuckling, Phineas follows at a more casual pace, eyes bright as he takes everything in.
Anne and W.D. Wheeler are practicing their trapeze act. W.D. is midair, Anne standing on the platform, when she notices Phineas. She waves, and he lifts a hand in return.
W.D. sails through the air, to the platform shared with his sister. It’s her turn to go, but Phineas watches, surprised, as she, instead, pauses their rehearsal. She says something to W.D., who nods and glances down at Phineas.
Something twists in Phineas’s stomach, but he doesn’t move as Anne comes down from her platform and approaches him.
“Mr. Barnum,” she smiles, “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. You’re doing an amazing job. Excited for tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes!” Her smile grows into a full grin, eyes twinkling. “It was a fantastic idea to move us to the docks. You and Phillip really put your all into rebuilding for us. We couldn’t thank you enough.”
His eyes soften, and he relaxes a little. “Well, of course.”
“Speaking of Phillip,” she pitches casually, “I think he’s waiting for you in your new office.”
“Oh?”
She nods. “Said he wanted to talk to you about something. Seemed a little nervous.”
A cold sweat breaks out on the back of Phineas’s neck. “Ah... thank you. I’ll go find him.”
He turns to leave, but she grabs hold of his sleeve.
“Mr. Barnum...”
He looks back at her.
“It’ll be okay.” She smiles again and gives a little nod.
His throat goes suddenly dry.
“Thank you,” he croaks again. She chuckles as she lets go of his sleeve.
His daughters are occupied, watching the elephants in fascination on the other side of the tent. Unnoticed, Phineas slips into the performers’ staging area.
“Mr. Barnum!” Chang and Eng, the conjoined twins, are getting ready for their own rehearsal. Eng is the one to greet him, and Chang asks, “How are you?”
Phineas smiles and nods, but his mind is elsewhere. “Fine, fine. Good work, boys.”
Thankfully, they seem to realize he is distracted and step aside. Phineas leaves them and hurried up the stairs to his office.
The door is closed. He hesitates for the briefest of moments.
Taking a deep breath, he forces himself inside. He forgets to knock first.
Phillip is seated at his desk, but he startles and looks up when Phineas enters the room. They lock eyes. Phillip’s clear blue are wide and unsure.
“Hello,” Phineas smiles, “I was told you wanted to see me?”
His words are casual, but his heart is pounding.
“P.T.,” Phillip greets. He starts to stand, but he hesitates, freezes as he rises. Instead, he settles in his chair again. He drums his fingers on top of his desk.
Despite Phineas’s own nerves, concern for his friend wins out. A frown creases his brow. “Are you all right, Phillip?”
“P.T...” Phillip starts again. He looks up, meets Phineas’s eyes, starts to look away, but forces himself to maintain eye contact. He chokes up as he breathes out, “I... you... you saved me.”
It’s a familiar conversation, and one that went unfinished. Phineas’s hazel eyes are liquid soft as he steps forward and rumbles, “Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave you to die, Phillip.”
Phillip inhales, his breath shaky. “Nobody has ever... has ever...”
Phineas moves again and, this time, Phillip finds the strength to stand and step away from his desk. He’s shaking like a leaf as Phineas lifts his hand, gently caressing Phillip’s cheek.
“Is this okay, Phil?” Phineas whispers.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Phillip nods.
“You are worth everything to me, Phillip. My life, the circus — everything.”
Phillip’s eyes are bright as Phineas tilts his face up. His fingers are calloused, but run over Phillip’s skin gentle as rain.
He closes the gap and Phillip gasps as their lips meet. Phineas’s mouth is warm and sweet, and Phillip clings to the lapels of his coat, holding him impossibly close.
Phillip whimpers as Phineas’s tongue brushes lightly over his bottom lip, and he parts them just enough to allow Phineas access. His skin is on fire, but he doesn’t let go. He can’t let go.
Every single one of Phillip’s senses is focused on Phineas. His nose, gently bumping and brushing against his. His jaw, not quite smooth, hinting at the faintest ghost of a stubble. His scent, more intoxicating than any alcohol, sweat and peanuts lingering under some expensive, woodsy cologne. The strength of the hand that is pressed against Phillip’s back.
Phillip is so wrapped up in Phineas, in fact, that he realizes too late when the man is pulling away. He groans softly, tugs at Phineas’s coat. Not his brilliant ringmaster coat, but, rather, standard attire any man would wear on the street.
Still, Phineas wears it better than most.
The man in question chuckles at Phillip’s protests and runs a hand lovingly through Phillip’s hair. “You need to breathe, darling.”
Darling.
The name catches them both by surprise.
“Phine— I-I mean P.T., I—“
Phineas chuckles. He caresses Phillip’s cheek again, but this time his touch lingers, cupping Phillip’s face in his hand. Phillip leans into the touch, closing his eyes. Phineas realizes for the first time that Phillip’s eyes are wet and his heart aches a little as he brushes away a tear that rolls down Phillip’s cheek.
“I think it’s all right if you call me by my given name, Phillip,” he teases gently.
“Ph... Phineas, I... I—“ Phillip falters.
“Feeling a little overwhelmed, huh?” Phineas’s eyes are soft enough to make Phillip want to melt.
Phillip nods in great relief.
Phineas pulls Phillip close again and presses a kiss between Phillip’s eyes.
“For what it’s worth,” Phineas mumbles, “You deserved to be saved that night, Phillip, and you are worthy of love. Please don’t ever let yourself think any different.”
Tears well in Phillip’s eyes again and, wordlessly, he presses his face into Phineas’s shoulder. Phineas rubs his back.
They stay in their office, alone, for a long time.
*
The sky is a fire of oranges and reds by the time they leave the circus. Phineas hails a carriage, and Phineas, Phillip, Caroline, and Helen all climb inside.
It doesn’t take long for Helen to fall asleep in Phillip’s lap, and Caroline rests her head, eyes closed, on her father’s shoulder. Neither girl notices when Phineas lays his hand atop Phillip’s.
“Will you want to tell them?” Phillip asks. His cheeks tinge slightly pink as he looks down at their laced fingers.
“Mmm... eventually. Not now, though. We have time.” Phineas squeezes his hand.
Phillip nods, and Phineas doesn’t miss the way relief washes over his face.
Once home, Phillip gently rouses Caroline, and Phineas carries Helen in his arms. Caroline shuffles alongside them, eyes heavy, holding Phillip’s hand.
Charity greets them at the door, and they get the girls to bed.
As Phineas tucks Caroline in, Phillip and Charity wait in the hall. She looks at him, and his face flushes red. He can’t look her in the eye.
“He finally did it,” Charity breathes.
“Charity, I—“
“Phillip, it’s all right. Phin and I spoke about it weeks ago.”
He looks up. She nods and smiles. Then, before he can say anything else, she kisses his cheek and wishes him goodnight.
When Phineas comes back into the hall, he glances around.
“She went to bed,” Phillip says.
Phineas nods, then hesitates.
“You know you can... stay here tonight, if you’d like.”
Phillip meets his eye. “Phineas, I couldn’t impose—“
“Phillip.” Phineas steps forward, grasping Phillip’s hand. “You are not imposing. You are never imposing. You never have to go back to your apartment alone, if you don’t want to. Would you like to stay?”
Phillip looks down.
“I would, yes.”
“Then you’re staying.”
Phineas shows Phillip to a guest bedroom that is only slightly less extravagant than the Master. He’d agreed to staying, but he’s surprised when Phineas follows him into the room.
“Phineas...?”
“If you want me to leave, I will.” Phineas reaches for his hand again. “But the fact that I haven’t been able to hold you has been driving me crazy the last few weeks. I’d very much like to be able to hold you now.”
That sense of love washes over Phillip again like a tidal wave, so intense that fresh tears spring to his eyes and he leans into Phineas. But, he nods, voice trembling as he speaks.
“Yes. Yes, I’d... I’d like that.”
Phineas smiles and pulls him in for another kiss, this one shorter, but no less sweet than the one they’d shared in their office.
Phineas lends Phillip a sleeping gown. It completely swims on Phillip slighter frame, but being literally wrapped up in Phineas’s scent is so intoxicating that he doesn’t care.
Phineas, himself, is absolutely unashamed and has nothing to hide as he changes. Heat rushes to Phillip’s cheeks as his eyes roam over the taunt, tanned muscles of Phineas’s back, legs. Phineas’s skin isn’t perfect, marred by the scars and blemishes of over forty years of a hard life. Phillip absentmindedly raises a hand to the scar below his hairline and something akin to relief washes over him.
Phillip had slept with strangers, results of one night stands, in his bed before. But, nothing even comes close to comparing to the feeling of climbing into the same bed as Phineas. Shifting closer, wrapping himself in Phineas’s embrace. His arms are strong, warm, secure.
Phillip sighs as Phineas flutters tiny, soft kisses to his neck. Then, Phineas nuzzles his nose in Phillip’s hair.
Phillip drifts to sleep with his head on Phineas’s chest, his hand resting directly over Phineas’s thrumming heart.
Phineas, too, falls asleep, holding the very man he’d spent nights dreaming about since the fire wreaked havoc into their lives.
end
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demoiselledefortune · 4 years
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tagged by @captain-apostrophe, thanks you!
your name and then what you would have named yourself: Anne-Elisa. I always liked the name Myriam which is my sister’s second name and I would have liked to steal it XD (my parents didn’t give me a second name because they give me a compound name which I feel is very unfair)
astrological sign (sun/moon/rising if you know them): Virgo, Aquarius, Pisces
when did you join tumblr and why?: 2011. At the time I was one of the editor for a comics newsletter on lj, and we checked on tumblr as part of the sweep and that’s how I got addicted. I thought, oh, tumblr’s awful but I’ll just be there for the pretty pictures... *ahem*
top 5 fandoms: currently mostly mo dao zu shi, heaven’s offical blessing and g and scum villains, a little bit of Fire emblem on the side but I don’t have time to read fanfics. Also coming out of phases when i was reading a lot of Final Fantasy 7 (but the fandom explored with the remake so i stopped trying to keep up) and Dragon Age previously. And we’re getting a Tokyo Babylon anime, so I expect I’ll get back into that soon!
top 5 favorite films: Man I watch so few movies nowadays, I’m not even sure i feel the same way about most of them... I mean, Mononoke Hime, Crouching Dragon, Hidden Tiger, sure, Lion in Winter, Tokyo Godfather,  Persepolis...  (that’s probably too many animated movies but who cares)
go to song when you wanna Feel something: Yann Tiersen “La Dispute” or Renaud’s Les Mistrals Gagnants or Icicle by Tori Amos... maybe. But there’s a lot and it depends.
what’s your religion or faith if you have one?: Jewish agnostic
a song that makes you feel seen: Seen in a good way or in a “i’m feeling so called out right now?” Perfect Fit by Dresden dolls for the latter and Pretty Good Year by Tori Amos for the former (and that’s mostly the associations i have with the song in a way that’s completely unrelated to the song).
if you could have any career: Librarian too.
do you have a type?: I have a thousand.
what does your heart/soul yearn for: Being seen.
if you had to describe yourself in 5 words to someone who doesn’t know you: Grumpy geek laughing
favorite subjects in school: French and history.
where does your soul feel most at home: in the middle of the night when everything is still
top 5 fictional characters: Magneto, Himemiya Anthy, Jiang Cheng, Katsuragi Misato, Zelos Wilder
top 3 moments in a show that made you ugly cry: Most of those I can remember are pretty old (like Gankutsuou or Wolf’s Rain when specific characters die), I’m sure i must have cried badly in more recent stuff but i don’t remember right now. Oh Fruits Basket’s Kisa episode always makes me cry.
the earth, the sun, the moon or the stars: Yes? Man this put this fanvid into my mind for some reason:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVISE1qCwBY
favorite kind of weather: Light rain, grey clouds, not too cold and a nice breeze.
top 3 characters you kin with: Yuuko, Sethra Lavode and Solas. Sorry if I’m gonna kid it gotta be an immortal sassy overpowered asshole or nothing, thank you.
favorite medium of art: text.
introvert/extrovert/ambivert: introvert.
a favorite literary quote:
“I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return'd to me, And answer'd: 'I Myself am Heav'n and Hell”       Omar Khayyam
some of your favorite books: The Vorkosigan Saga by Lois McMaster Bujold; Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Leguin ; Distress by Greg Egan; the Coldfire Trilogy by Celia Friedman; Lord of Light by Roger Zelazny ; Book of the Raksura by Martha Wells; Tale of the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee...
if you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?: San Francisco maybe ? If too cold maybe Argentina.
if you could live in any time in history when would it be?: Haha, yeah no. Not unless “live” means “observe as a disembodied presence” or something.
if you could play any instrument masterfully it would be: Err my spontaneous reaction is “piano” but maybe a guitar would be better.
if you have one, what mythological god or goddess do you feel a connection to: Odin. Which is awkward because *waves hand* but it’s a hanged man kind of thing.
and lastly, favorite recent selfie in your camera roll:
tagging (but only if you want to): @hqfeels , @taotrooper , @flo-nelja , @enbyleighlines , and @dornishsphinx
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littledreamybeth · 5 years
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Daddy to be
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A/N: Even though I read through, it still hope there aren’t any grammar, spelling etc. mistakes. Enjoy! Like, Share, Comment!! ❤ (Pictures are not mine)
I have never expected that two lines would bring me so hard to tears that I wouldn’t be able to breathe. Sitting on the cold tiles of our bathroom, I cannot help but stare at the positive pregnancy test in between my thumb and index finger while every second another hard sob hits me, desperately escaping my mouth. I place my hand in front of my lips to mute and control the cries. The tears blurry my complete vision, I can’t see anything properly. Even if it doesn’t seem like it in the first place; I’m still so relieved and happy.
Long enough have I been waiting to see this result.
‘Thank you… thankyouthankyouthankyou’ is the only way I can describe how I’m feeling right now. When the two lines have slightly appeared at the beginning, I thought I didn’t see right. But then they’ve become more and more prominent, and well, here we are. I’m a future mummy. Hopefully.
I get up to clean my face. Cold water hits my skin, brining me back to my senses. Once I have dried my face, I immediately grab my phone to call my gynecologist. I really hope that this time we’re lucky, and the test doesn’t turn out to be a false alarm.
***
Only a few days later I find out that I’m indeed pregnant. The days until then have dragged on endlessly, so that it almost drove me insane. It has been another challenge to keep my feelings hidden from Harry, who has no idea about anything yet. I didn’t want to tell him until I had a final confirmation.  I have been a shaky mess when my gynecologist called me into her office after some test, and only with pleasure has she announced that I am 100 percent and truly pregnant. I couldn’t believe my ears but deep down I have already felt it. Since I’ve seen the positive test, I’ve known that I am going to be a mother.
Now I’m sitting here and thinking about how to tell my family and friends about the entire thing.
Harry is currently at the studio, letting me have enough time to come up with a surprise. And since it’s Friday today- a day in which both of our families and Harry’s former members and friends gather around at our place to have a good time- it gives me the perfect opportunity to do everything at once.
After a while, I have the perfect idea. I go to my study and look for a card, which I find in my cupboard. Angels are drawn on its cover. It really fits to our situation. Then, I’m turning on my laptop in order to google how I can announce a pregnancy. Truth to be told, I’m not as creative as Harry is, which makes me dependent on the internet, but I hope it doesn’t matter. Clicking on Pinterest, I finally find a sentence that I want to use.
It’s just one sentence but very simple, and the message is clear and understandable.
Once I’m finished with a few changes, I shove the card into an envelope and place it into my favorite book at our bookshelf that stands in the living room. I’m sure no one will even spare a glance at it. Then, I maneuver myself into the kitchen in which I spend the next few hours to prepare some snacks for our guests. This time I’m extremely excited because after this day, nothing will be the same anymore. Our lives are going to change.
***
The evening is going very well so far. Children’s laughter fills our entire house. My parents converse with Anne, Harry goes around and distributes drinks on a plate to the 1D boys and their wives, Gemma chats with my brother. And I- I just watch the whole scenery with a smile adorning my face.
I haven’t had the guts to tell them yet, but I know that every passing minute is wasted time. I need to tell them.
“Do you want a drink, love?” Harry, who suddenly stands in front of me, asks. I flinch. I must’ve been very lost in my thoughts.
“What?” I look down at the plate. “Oh, no. No drinks for me tonight,” I smile.
“Why is that?”
You need and excuse, Y/N. Hurry! “I don’t feel like drinking,” I state. I can badly tell you that I’m pregnant, darling, or it will spoil the surprise.
“Okay…” Harry reacts, eyeing me weirdly. I really hope he doesn’t suspect anything yet. He knows I never turn down a drink, no matter what. I sigh out when he distances himself from me.
I have to do it, I tell myself.  Now or never. Well, not ‘never’, I have to do it eventually, but you know what I mean.
My legs lead me to the bookshelf where I grab the envelope out of its hiding spot. No one really notices me, too occupied with something else while I’m minding my own business.
Then I clear my throat, gaining everyone’s attention. My fingers begin to tremble just as myself, and I’m afraid of losing my voice when I start to talk. My gaze wanders at my parents first, who spread a feeling of safety and calmness whenever I look at them, then at Gemma and Anne who accepted me from the moment I’ve met them and who welcomed me into their hearts, and finally my eyes meet the ones of the young man that I love so much. My heart beats against my chest, threatening to burst out. I take a deep breath before I let my voice echo in the entire room.
“Harry, I have something for you,” I say. “Can you please come here?”
My husband looks at me confused just like the others, but he still fulfills my order.
“What’s this about, love?” he asks once he stands next to me. Instead of answering his question, I place the white envelope into his hands.
“What’s in there?”
“Please just read it,” I urge him, “it’s very important.”
“Y/N, is everything alright?” My mother speaks to me. I don’t know why she thinks that something’s wrong, but I ease her mind by assuring her, “Yes, mum. There is nothing to be worried about.”
When I turn back to Harry, he has already torn off the envelope and now holds the card in his hands. He looks at me again, trying to read anything from my expression, however, I’m not giving away anything. I stay neutral as much as possible.
“Is this something like a confession?” he laughs, you could see his nervousness. How he hit the bull’s eye with his suspicion!
“You’ll find out when you read it,” I shrug with my shoulders.
My husband finally opens the card. I can hear the rhythm of my heartbeat. Bum..bum… bumbumbumbum. Heat rushes through my entire body.
I repeat what I have noted down on that card in my head over and over again.
“The butterflies in my stomach will turn into 4 tiny feet.”
Harry observes the written words for a little moment, and his eyes widen as he understands what they mean. He looks like as if something had punched him in the stomach, stealing the air from his lungs. Different emotions are displayed on his face, but only one dominates- shock. I notice his shaky fingers trying to keep the card in his hands. His mouth opens and closes, not being able to find the right words to express his feelings. I cannot blame him though- I even had no proper words for it.
Everyone directs their gaze on Harry, and worry is written on their expressions. They are probably wondering what has caught him so off guard. There aren’t actually many things in the world that makes Harry speechless- this one, however, clearly does.
After exchanging a few glances around the room, Gemma is the first one to cut the silence.
“Harry, what’s wrong with you?” she asks him. She is just as oblivious to the news as her brother had been a few minutes ago. Like I said, I haven’t truly told anyone. Harry, who still disbelievingly eyes the card, finally breaks from his frozen position, and looks directly at me. His eyes speak volumes.
“What’s written on that card?” someone questions from the back. Niall, I believe.
Suddenly, a heavy sob overwhelms my husband, making him instantly fall down on knees. He cries loudly like I have never seen him cry before, with both arms raised up to the ceiling as if he wanted to thank god for this wonderful, life-changing blessing. I can contain my own tears only with difficulty, instantly crouching down to his eye level. The tears in his eyes run down his cheeks like a waterfall. I bring my thumbs up to wipe them away.
Anne, followed by Gemma, has reached us, lifting up the card Harry has let fall down from the ground and reading it with her daughter. It doesn’t take too long for them to connect the dots.
“No way!” my mother-in-law screams. “No way!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Gemma joined in, “Are you kidding me, Y/N?! Pregnant?! And with TWINS?! Holy shit!!”
My mum jumps out of the couch, also with a scream escaping her mouth. “What?! What?! I’m gonna be a grandma?!” Then she collapses against my brother, who still doesn’t seem to be able to register what’s going on. My father shouts, “Really? Really?”
I look at them with a genuine smile on my lips. It’s confirmation enough. Meanwhile, I can hear the others either clapping or sharing our joy, congratulating us, which I reciprocate with gratitude. Gemma slings her arms around her mum, hugging her tightly, and I can see how excited they are to become nana and aunt. My own mum is still overwhelmed, but I know that she feels the same as we do.
“Oh my, I cannot believe this.” Gemma breathes, fanning with her hands to suppress her emotions.
Around that chaos and conversations, I try to lift up Harry back to his wobbly feet. His cries lessen from one second to another, and he looks at me again. Deeply. I take out a handkerchief and gently begin to clean his face.
“Are you serious?” Harry croaks, his eyes full of happy tears, yet I can see a light glint of doubt behind them. “You’re not joking, right? This is true?” I shake my head hard in agreement while I wrap my arms comfortingly around his middle, pressing my front against his. Of course, it is not! Never- I stress, never could I bring myself to joke about a serious issue like pregnancy. Especially not in front of our family and friends. I know how bad Harry has wished to become a father- so bad that whenever we unfortunately had a negative result, he would lock himself in our bedroom and only come out after hours with puffy, red eyes- so why would I traumatize him by pulling such horrible a prank on him?
The burden of not being a father weighed heavily on his shoulders for months, and the failed attempts to have a baby dragged down his mood every passing day. I’ve seen it many times. Especially after the way he would gaze at his friends’ children whenever we babysit them, the way he would interact and hold them in his arms, and play with them. His green orbs are always full of love. It was at those moments that I had the urge to give him a child as soon as possible, just as he craved for, however, not everything works the way you want it, does it? I’ve tried to encourage him, myself included, to be patient and keep trying- that one day we would be lucky enough to become parents. Patience has a limit, I am aware of that, and the long wait would often tear a little bit of it down. But I’ve talked to myself into believing that at the end, the wait is going to be worth it. And it totally has been! We aren’t blessed with only one but two angels who will join our family soon.
“When did you find out?” Harry questions, burying his nose in my hair.
“Only a few days ago.”  
“How far along are you?”
“8 weeks.” 
“And you’re telling me this now?” he asks, a hint of fake offense underlining his voice.
“I wanted to make sure that the test was correct, so I immediately booked an appointment with my gynecologist. And of course, I had to plan how I wanted to deliver the message.”
Harry laughs, delicately kissing my forehead.
“So, we are really pregnant, aren’t we?”
“We definitely are.”
I grab the ultrasound picture I have hidden out of my jeans pocket.
“Look,” I say, as a point at the little shapes depicted on it. “That’s Baby A and this one is Baby B.”
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I watch him as he observes the sonogram with awe. He looked very intensely at our tiny babies, marking them not only into his mind but also into his heart.
“I still cannot believe this is happening,” he admits.
“Right? It seems like a dream to me.”
The others in the room are long forgotten and it feels like as if only Harry and I exist. We are in our own bubble. From the back I can faintly hear someone saying not to disturb us for a little bit and let the newly parents enjoy the announcement. I cannot focus on anything else anyway. I only have eyes for the ultrasound picture and my husband.
“We deserve it,” Harry stresses determined.
“We do,” I agree.
Harry bends downs to me and places a tender kiss on my lips. I can feel all his emotions that he pours into our kiss, making my heart flutter and burn with love. His warm hand gently touches and caresses my belly, drawing circles with his fingertips. When we pull away, he rests his forehead against mine, his minty breath hits my lips again when he whispers, “I’m gonna be a daddy.”
  tags ❤ : @hes-writer, @hes-writer2, @sad-little-asshole, @tpwkal
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someidioticurl · 4 years
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@bucketfullofocs asked: [Aya @ Flynn] ▤ = falling asleep on them
send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse —
▤ = falling asleep on them
[on AO3]
The music finished, water jets stopped one by one, spewing the last dribbles. After witnessing them shot water fifty sweet into the dark sky, a foot or two was almost pathetic. Those few kids still awake down below cheered while parents busied themselves with packing and scooping their long asleep offsprings.
"That was a nice show." Flynn hummed against the rim of his thermos cup - only last traces of now lukewarm cocoa at the bottom of it. "The projection against the water mist was in..." Flynn's eyes widened. Like a surprised owl, he blinked once and twice. Then snorted. "Oh, bless your adorable heart, Aya." He pecked the top of her head before resting his cheek against it. "What do I even do with you now?" He mused, through a smile didn't fade from his face.
She had nested against him quite soon into the performance. For warmth, he had assumed - the evening had been getting chilly. Had she fallen asleep soon after? Had she fallen only a few minutes before the finish? Flynn couldn't tell. He had no idea. Getting off their pavilion roof without waking her up sure was going to be a challenge.
Flynn packed their things, thanking luck they all were within an easy reach. He brought his feet under himself, slipped his free hand under Aya's knees and balanced up, cradling her like a baby in his arms. He crouched down and made sure she rested on his lap before grabbing the blanket they had sat on and wrapping it around Aya's sleeping body. He held down a chortle. Now, all bundled up, she really did look like a baby.
He walked over to the edge of the roof. This pavilion wasn't tall and he had planned to jump off it and roll in the soft grass but in the current situation, it was out of the question. He joked to himself next time he should bring a bigger blanket so he can use it as a baby sling. Flynn lifted 'Aya bundle' and rested her against his chest, her own pressed against his shoulder. With her between his arm and head, Flynn inched to the edge, found a support beam, double-checked Aya was at least somewhat secure, turned around and moved over the edge. With his feet on the beam and fingers hooked into the roof, Flynn lowered them to the pavilion fence and then ground.
With a grin and a sense of mission accomplished, Flynn strolled back toward the port, toward the Flying Lilly. He wondered whether or not Ann was still awake to tuck Aya into her bed.
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bangtanstanst · 6 years
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To-Don’t
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Sometimes, life gets overwhelming. But Yoongi will gladly remind you of the things you tend to forget.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: none (unless you consider mentions of stress one)
word count: 1.8k
a/n: hi guys! Different day than usual, and I’m still kind of tired so I hope there are no typos that slipped through, but here’s the fic as promised :) I hope you like it!
masterlist
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Deep breaths, you tell yourself, eyes fluttering closed as you force yourself to follow your own instructions. Deep breaths, you’ll be fine.
You open up your eyes, slowly breathing in through your nose, out through your mouth. You’re standing in the middle of your living room, heart pounding and muscles tense with stress. You don’t even feel like you can sit down somewhere, take the time to pour yourself a cup of tea, or take a hot shower and let yourself unwind for a second – your mind just keeps running, thinking back, thinking ahead. Ideas, tasks, worries. Things you said, things you’ll have to say, reports you have to write, cleaning you should be doing… and all of it is coming at you all at once. Like a ton of bricks that suddenly drops from the sky, bricks pulverising you in a split second. Everything you have to do, everything you should be doing –
It paralyses you.
It’s not necessarily that you feel like crying, or breaking down. It’s like your body is just refusing to do any of the hundreds of tasks on your list, and your mind is just playing along, keeping you rooted to your spot.
You let out a shaky breath, gaze flickering to the window. It’s dark outside. You know it’s late – a little past eleven, you figure. When you left your office around half past ten, you were the last to switch off the light at your desk. You’d trudged through an abandoned building, the only wave and smile you received coming from the night guard sitting at his spot at the entrance, feet propped up on his desk and leaning back to stare at his screen until morning. Your car had been the last to leave the parking lot, the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement echoing through the area.
And yet you’d been the first to come home.
It’s not like you’re not used to it, and it’s not like you don’t understand. Living together with Yoongi is both a blessing and a curse, if you’re being truly honest. You get to spend your downtime together, or those precious few minutes before you go off to work for the day, or your free days sleeping in, just resting in each other’s arms in a peaceful silence. The curse here is, though, that those days off, that downtime, it’s all few and far between, and those few minutes in the morning and at night are usually just that – a few minutes.
Which is exactly why you’re here, stressed, frozen, and alone.
You could just call someone, or text, just to vent your frustrations and move on. A good point. You could. Only one problem – you don’t have the fucking time.
At that thought, you suddenly jump into action, blood rushing through your veins as you grab your laptop and your phone, pulling up your to-do list for the coming weeks. Meetings, meetings, and even more meetings, prepare stuff for those meetings, write proposals, prepare pitches, call Anne, email IT department, brainstorm on new approach, help organise networking event. Make doctor’s appointment, check budget, clean bathroom, clean the whole goddamn apartment while you’re at it, get groceries before you run out of food, do the dishes, meal prep for the week. Do this, do that, and do more.
You’re internally screaming at yourself, wondering how the hell your fourteen-hour workday doesn’t seem to have made even the slightest dent in the infinite list of tasks in front of you. Are you working too slow? Should you have gotten more done today? Should you have stayed later? Maybe you should skip lunch tomorrow, or have it at your desk. It can’t be that bad, right?
You’re so busy stressing out that you don’t hear the front door open and close. Yoongi calls out your name from the hallway, seeing the lights switched on in the living room, but you don’t reply, too busy thinking and chewing on your pen.
“Y/N?” Yoongi repeats, dropping his bag on the ground and shuffling into the living room to find you on the couch. You hear his voice, know he’s saying your name, but you don’t find it within yourself to greet him properly. “Hey,” he greets you, frowning when you simply hum in reply, not turning to even look at him. He walks a little closer, stopping right in front of you and crouching down to your level in an attempt to make eye contact. “Hi,” he says once more.
You look up at him, a small smile breaking out onto your face. “Hi,” you say back, keeping your eyes on him, though he can see you’re thinking of something else – that you’re not really seeing him.
“You okay there?” he asks, head tilted.
You hum again, nodding a little, pen still in your mouth. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply absentmindedly. It’s not that you want to lie to him, not at all. It’s just such an automatic reflex that the words just slip out before you realise they have.
He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow and plops down next to you, getting a good look at your calendar and the notebook full of tasks.  “Oh?” he simply says, draping an arm around your shoulders.
It’s not much, but it’s more than enough to get you out of your shell, break right through the walls you’re so used to hiding behind. You drop your head in your hands, sighing shakily and rubbing your face. “No, I’m not,” you groan, subtly shaking your head.
He softly kneads your arm, shuffling a little closer to you. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to – you lean into him without hesitation, without needing to think about it, putting your laptop aside.
“I think I’ve got too much on my plate, Yoongi,” you whisper, voice suddenly hoarse as you finally admit what you’ve been silently thinking all week – hell, make that all month. Closing your eyes, you lean your head on his shoulder and enjoy the feeling of his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. With a groan, you add, “Why the fuck do I do this to myself?”
He pauses for a moment, his hand toying with some strands of your hair. “Because you’re ambitious,” he softly says. “And you want to do everything that seems fun or useful, and because you can’t say no to people when they ask you to do something.”
You snort, eyes still closed. There’s something about him, his presence, his touch, something that just takes away your stress, takes away the paralysing feeling of your mind and body telling you to hurry, hurry, hurry. “Gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t say it was bad,” he tells you, nimble fingers running through your hair. You let out a sigh in content, snuggling closer to him. “It’s just who you are.”
“Great,” you mutter, “so I’ll be stuck in this state until I die of a heart attack in five years.”
He sighs a little, sitting back to look at you. Your eyes flutter open as his touch fades, looking up at him in slight confusion. “You also have a slight tendency to make things seem worse than they are,” he pointedly tells you. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but your boyfriend knows you all too well for you to really be able to protest his words. “Let me see that list,” he demands, holding out his hand.
After a brief moment of hesitation, you turn and grab the notebook from the couch, handing it to him. He looks down at it, eyebrows furrowing together in a subtle frown as he focuses on reading the words. Without much thought, you lean forward, smoothing the skin between his brows with your thumb, a gesture that has him briefly looking up and smiling at you before he looks back down.
“See, this is what I mean – you don’t have to clean the apartment, there are expert cleaners we can hire to do that,” he begins, grabbing a pen and striking through some of the tasks listed. “I know the work stuff seems like a lot, but I know you, and I know you blast through these things, no problem,” he tells you without looking up. “And I can get groceries tomorrow after rehearsal, no big deal. We’ll do meal prep tomorrow night instead of watching a movie, and you can call the doctor tomorrow morning before work, it’ll take you like five minutes.” He keeps striking through tasks as he talks, and you wince every time he does so. “And I’m sure our budget is doing fine, you can move that to next week at the earliest.” He falls silent for a moment, pausing before scribbling something at the very bottom of the page, where you know there’s exactly one white line left for you to write on. “You forgot something, too,” he finishes, looking up at you as he puts down the pen.
You frown a little, lips parting as you sit up, trying to get a look at what he’s added. “What?” is all that comes out, mind running in all directions, muscles tensing, stress returning. “What did I forget?”
Seemingly unfazed, he turns the notebook in his hands so you can read the page, and he says the word the same time as you read it. “Relax, you idiot.”
You let out a long breath, undeniably relieved there’s not another mammoth task waiting for you to finish. “You scared me,” you mumble, though his gummy smile melts away any annoyance you possibly could’ve had.
“It’s the only way to get you to listen these days,” he says with a grin, closing the notebook and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Now,” he says, arm sneaking around you to pull you into him. “Let’s forget about what you have to do later and just relax now, okay?”
You hum, arms wrapping around his torso. “Can’t say no to that,” you mumble, eyes fluttering closed once more as you settle onto his chest.
There’s a short silence, in which he starts to slowly play with your fingers, and you listen to his heartbeat to ground yourself, distract from what are still thoughts about tasks you have to do, tasks you can still do if you just…
“How was your day?” you ask, interrupting your own train of thought before you know you’ll spiral.
“Tiring,” he replies lowly, the word coming out with a soft sigh. “But it was okay,” he adds, sending you a small smile. He doesn’t say anything else, but you know not to pry, at least not now.
“Bed?” you ask instead, raising your head from his chest to look up at him.
He smiles at you. “Bed.”
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a/n: thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! Can you tell I let life inspire me? ;) Don’t forget to send me your reactions/feedback, I’d love to hear from you :) Hope you have a great day/night wherever you are!
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m-jelly · 2 years
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Oh hey for the Levi x Reader cryptid spook in the woods can it be a date? Or they can be married either or ☺️
Sure thing!
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Strange road trip
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Genre and tags: Romance, fluff, cute, couple, camping in an RV, spooky.
Concept: Levi and you take a year off to be a couple now you're married. You took a nice high-quality RV and drove around from place to place exploring. One day you pick a nice spot in the woods and have a little fun, but while there you keep hearing animal screams in the woods like you've never heard before. You and Levi stay close to the RV and brave it out, but something is watching.
Link to my event if you want to take part!
Tag list: @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @li-anne @strawberrybunny123 @nyxiieluna @notgoodforlife @galactict3a @demonsimp6
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Levi yawned as he drove the RV down a dirt path to the camping spot. He hummed a little and spied the area with a fire pit and a bathroom outhouse, but it wasn't needed because you had everything you needed. He parked and turned to you as you slept soundly with your pup resting its head on your lap.
He reached over and fussed the pup's head. "Come on, Baxter. Time to set up and you need to go for a wee." He walked to the RV door and opened it. "Stay close buddy."
You inhaled deeply as you woke up. You opened your eyes to see an RV on the other end of the camp, a vast forest, a mountain in the distance, a river running through the camp and a gentle summer breeze flowing through the clearing.
You climbed out of the RV to see Levi putting up the last of your outdoor sitting area. "Look at you."
Levi smiled at you. "Hey, my love." He walked over and hugged you tightly. "How was your nap?"
"Great, thank you." You let him go and looked around. "So cosy. Well done, my love." You nuzzled his neck making him blush. "Such a strong wild man." You ran your hands up his body and purred. "So sexy."
He lifted you and kissed you. "Thank you."
You hummed a little laugh. "How's Baxter?"
"Enjoying himself."
You saw your pup sniffing around before he pounced on his ball. "Cute."
Levi put you down on your feet. "Let's take him for a walk."
You held Levi's hand and walked with him through the forest with Baxter walking ahead of you. You relaxed as you followed the path. You slowed down and watched Baxter as he paused for a moment to sniff. You frowned a little as you watched him.
Levi let your hand go. "Oi, what have you got there?" He crouched by his dog. "Let me see." He pulled the edge apart to see a large print in the dirt. "Huh, that's odd."
You leaned over Levi and stared. "Oow, maybe it's some monster stomping around."
Levi stood up and sighed. "Love."
You giggled. "I'm kidding." You held his hand and walked with him. "I'm just playing with you. Shall we head back? I'll start dinner."
He walked along with you and whistled for Baxter. He squeezed your hand and paused when he heard a faint screaming-like noise. He looked into the woods. "Fox? Maybe an owl?"
You shrugged. "Could be anything, honey." You stopped at the camp and started putting together a nice dinner as Levi fed the dog. "Levi?"
"Mm?"
"Could you get me a drink?"
He kissed your cheek. "Sure thing."
You put the food out and sat down waiting for Levi. You took your cold drink from him and snuggled against him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He kissed the side of your head. "Anything you need, I'll get it for you." He picked up his dinner. "Perfect as always honey."
You kissed his cheek a few times. "Bless you."
He moaned as he ate his dinner. "So good."
You snorted a laugh. "You're so cute when you eat."
He blushed. "It's just really good."
You rubbed his chest. "What a lovely bear you are."
He hummed as you kissed his neck and under his jaw. "Thank you."
You ate your dinner. "I'll clean up."
Levi grabbed everything. "I'll clean, you get comfy."
You wrapped up in a blanket and fussed Baxter as the sun started setting. You yawned a little and got comfy. You flinched a little when a cry came from the woods. You shivered a little. "Levi?"
He walked back over to you and cuddled you on the seat. "What's wrong?"
"Something screamed or howled."
He squeezed you. "It's probably nothing, okay?"
Baxter woke up from his sleep and stood in front of you and Levi in a protective stance, his fur up and his back to you both. He growled and bared his teeth.
You frowned. "Baxter never does this. He's a good boy."
Levi yanked you into his arms and ushered you into the RV. "Get inside and stay there."
"Levi?"
He picked up Baxter and ran inside the RV. He slammed the door closed and locked it. "Baxter does not growl at anyone or anything unless it's a threat. I've trained him and he's very obedient. I know how he is." He picked you up and carried you to the bed. "Something isn't right out there."
You gripped Levi's thigh. "What's out there?"
"Likely a predator." He cupped your face. "We'll be okay. It's okay. I'll protect you." He kissed you and hummed. "I love you."
You smiled. "I love you too."
Levi sat with you for a while before he tucked you into bed. He turned the lights off except on and stayed alert. He fussed Baxter as he stayed on high alert. He held his breath when he heard the inhuman cry near the edge of the woods. He pulled the blinds open and looked over to the other VR to see they were looking out as well.
You jumped away when you heard a cry. "Levi!?"
He held his hand out to you as he looked out at the forest and the other RV. "Shh."
You nibbled your lip. "Levi?"
He held your hand. "It's okay, we'll be okay."
You moved closer and hugged his side. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure, but I've never heard something like that before."
You gasped as the other RV shook as something big attacked it. "Oh no! They're in trouble." You ran to the flare gun and grabbed it. "We have to save them."
Levi grabbed the emergency gun for wild animals. "Fire the flare up and I'll shoot, got it?"
You nodded. "Yes."
He shoved the door open. "Baxter, stay close buddy." He loaded the gun and jogged with you. "Ready?"
You gripped the gun. "Yes!"
"Now!"
You fired the flare and lit up the area. You looked to the RV and saw a large creature rip its claws into it. Your eyes widened at how massive it was and how close it was to breaking in and attacking those within. You shook a little in shock as Baxter began barking and growing to scare the thing.
Levi lined up the gun. "No one scares my wife!" He fired at the beast multiple times. He gritted his teeth as it cried, blood oozed and spattered. "Leave us and them alone!"
You gripped the shirt on Levi's back as he fired, your heart raced at how strong he was. You moaned a little as he made the thing stumble and run away. "Levi."
He lowered the gun. "We need to check on whoever is in the RV."
You nodded and ran with Levi to the RV. "Hello!? Are you okay?"
A man with a beard kicked the door open. He gripped his gun and cocked it. "Sure am. Thanks for the help, but that beast is mine!"
Levi pulled you close as the man ran into the forest. "Tch, fucking idiot." He looked down at you. "Are you okay?"
You nodded. "Yes." You nibbled your lip. "You were incredible."
He kissed you and hummed in delight. "Let's go back to the RV, rest and go to another camping spot tomorrow."
You walked with him. "Are you okay to drive?"
"Yeah, don't worry. Being safe is priority."
You walked with Levi back to your RV. "You were amazing back there, so brave and strong."
He whistled for your pup. "Thank you."
You shivered. "I'm so proud of you, my wonderful husband."
He kissed you and moaned against your lips. "Love you."
You smiled. "I love you so much."
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operascenes2021 · 3 years
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ACT I First Scene (The garden of the house of Truelove in the field on a spring afternoon. On the right side of the house, a fence with an iron gate. Anne and Tom sit together under a pergola) Trio ANNE The woods are green and bird and beast at play for all things keep this festival of May. With fragrant odours and with notes of cheer, the pious earth observes the solemn year. TOM Now is the season when the Cyprian Queen with genial charm translates our mortal scene, when swains their nymphs in fervent arms enfold and with a kiss restore the Age of Gold. ANNE, TOM How sweet within the budding grove How sweet beside the pliant stream to walk, to love, to lie, to dream. (Truelove leaving the house and remains apart them) TRUELOVE Oh may a father's prudent fears unfounded prove, and ready vows and loving looks be all they seem. In youth we fancy we are wise, but time has shown, alas, too often and too late, we have not known the hearts of others or our own. ANNE Love tells no lies. ANNE, TOM And in love's eyes we see our future state, ever happy, ever fair: sorrow, hate, disdain, despair, rule not there. But love alone reigns o'er his own. Recitative TRUELOVE (Truelove is about Ana) Anne, my dear. ANNE Yes, father. TRUELOVE Your advice is needed in the kitchen. (She enters the house) Tom, I have news for you. I have spoken on your behalf to a good friend in the City, and he offers you a position in his counting house. TOM You are too generous, sir. You must not think me ungrateful if I do not immediately accept what you propose, but I have other prospects in view. TRUELOVE Your reluctance to seek employment makes me uneasy. TOM Be assured, your daughter shall not marry a poor man. TRUELOVE So he be honest, she may take a poor husband, if she choose. But I am resolved she shall never marry a lazy one. (Truelove enters the house) TOM The old fool! Recitative   Here I stand, my constitution sound, my frame not ill-favoured, my wit ready, my heart light. I play the industrious apprentice in a copybook? I submit to the drudge's yoke? I slave through a lifetime to enrich others and then be thrown away like a gnawed bone? Not I! Have not grave doctors assured us that good works are of no avail, for heaven predestines all? In my fashion, I may profess myself of their party and herewith entrust myself to Fortune. Aria Since it is not by merit we rise or we fall, but the favour of Fortune that governs us all, why should I labour for what in the end she will give me for nothing if she be my friend? While if she be not, why, the wealth I might gain for a time by my toil would at last be in vain. Till I die then, of fever, or by lightning am struck, let me live by my wits and trust to my luck. My life lies before me, the world is so wide: come, wishes, be horses this beggar shall ride. (Spoken) I wish I had money! (Nick appears behind fence) Recitative NICK Tom Rakewell? TOM (surprised) I... NICK I seek Tom Rakewell with a message. Is this his house? TOM No, not his house. But you have found him straying in his thoughts and footsteps. In short... NICK You are he? TOM (laughing) Yes, surely. Tom Rakewell at your service. NICK Well, well. Nick Shadow, sir, and at your service. For, surely as you bear your name, I bear you a bright future. You recall an uncle, sir? TOM An uncle? My parents never mentioned one. NICK They quarrelled, I believe, sir. Yet he... sir, have you friends? TOM More than a friend. The daughter of this house and ruler of my heart. NICK A lover's fancy and a lovely thought. Then call her. Indeed, let all who will, make their joy here of your glad tidings. (Tom enters the house. Nick comes into the garden. Tom returns with Anne and Truelove) Fair lady, gracious gentlemen, a servant begs your pardon for your time, but there is much to tell. Tom Rakewell had an uncle, one long parted from his native land. Him I served many years, served him in the many trades he served in turn, and all to his profit. Yes, profit was perpetually his. It was, indeed: his family, his friend, his hour of amusement, his life. But all his brilliant progeny of gold couldn't caress him when he lay dying. Sick for his home, sick for a memory of pleasure or of love, his thoughts were but of England. There, at least, he felt, his profit could be pleasure to an eager youth. For such, by counting years upon his fumbling fingers, he knew that you must be good, sir. Well, he is dead. And I am here with this commission: to tell Tom Rakewell that an unloved and forgotten uncle loved and remembered. You are a rich man. Quartet TOM I wished but once!. I knew that surely my wish would come true. That I had but to speak at last and Fate would smile when Fortune cast the die. I knew. (To Nick) Yet you, who bring the faithful end of questioning, here by a new and grateful master's side. Be thanked. And as my Fortune and my guide, remain, confirm, deny. NICK Be thanked, for masterless should I abide too long, I soon would die. ANNE Be thanked, oh God for him! And may a bride soon to his vows reply. TRUELOVE Be thanked, oh God, and curb his pride, that Anne may never sigh. (Tom embraces Anne) TOM My Anne, behold, for doubt had fled our view. The skies are clear and every path is true. ANNE The joyous fount I see that brings increase to fields of promise and the groves of peace. TOM, ANNE Oh clement love! TRUELOVE My children, may God bless you even as a father! NICK Sir! may Nick address you a moment in your bliss?. Even in carefree May a thriving fortune has its roots of care: Attorneys crouched like gardeners to pay, bowers of paper only seals repair. We must be off to London. TOM They can wait. TRUELOVE No, Tom, your man is right. Things must be done. The sooner you settle your estate, the sooner you and Anne can be as one. ANNE Father is right, dear Tom. NICK A coach in wait is down the road. TOM Well then, if Fortune sow a crop that wax and pen must cultivate, let's fly to husbandry and make it grow. Recitative NICK I'll call the coachman, sir. TRUELOVE (To Nick) Should you not mind, I'll tell you of his needs. NICK Sir, you are kind. (Truelove and Nick go through the gate of the garden) Duet ANNE Farewell, farewell for now! My heart is with you, when you go, however you may fare. TOM Wherever, when apart, I may be, I shall know that you are with me there. (Truelove and Nick return) Recitative NICK All is ready, sir. TOM Tell me, good Shadow: since, born and bred in indigence, I am unacquainted with such matters, what wages you customarily receive?. NICK Let us not speak of that, master, till you know better what my services are worth. A year and a day hence, we will settle our account. And then, I promise you, you shall pay me no more and no less than what you yourself acknowledge to be just. TOM A fair offer. 'Tis agreed. Dear father Truelove, the very moment my affairs are settled, I shall send for you and my dearest Anne. And when she arrives, all London shall be at her feet. For all London shall be mine, and what is mine must of needs at least adore what I must with all my being worship. (Tom and Truelove shake hands) Trio (Tom speaks low voice) Laughter and light and all charms that endear, all that dazzles or dins, wisdom and wit shall adorn the career of him who can play and who wins. ANNE (speaks low voice) Heart, you are happy, yet why should a tear dim our joyous designs? TRUELOVE (speaks low voice) Fortune so swift and so easy, I fear, may only encourage his sins. (To Tom) Be well advised. ANNE Be always near! ANNE, TRUELOVE, TOM Farewell! (Anne, Tom and Truelove go through the gate of the garden) NICK (To audience) The progress of a rake begins.
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throwrocksatboys · 6 years
Text
Christian Harry Potter - chapter one
Alrighty everyone. Here is chapter one (of fourteen). Italics are "authors notes". Enjoy!! @nothingelsemakessense Author's Note: Hello, friends! My name is Grace Ann. I'm new to this whole fanfiction thing; but recently, I've encountered a problem that I believe this is the solution to. My little ones have been asking to read the Harry Potter books; and of course I'm happy for them to be reading; but I don't want them turning into witches! So I thought….. why not make some slight changes so these books are family friendly? And then I thought, why not share this with all the other mommies who are facing the same problem? So-Ta da! Here it is! I am SO excited to share this with all of you! So, without further ado- Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Harry Potter who lived under the stairs in a house on Privet Drive with his aunt and uncle. He was a good, obedient boy who did all his chores; but he felt that there was something missing in his life. Something big and special; but he could not quite name it. He stayed up every night; and wished for this special something; but then one day, there was a knock at his door-and everything changed. "Answer the door, Harry!" his Aunt Petunia, a career woman, barked from her armchair where she sat with her feet up. She had short, curly blonde hair and never wore any makeup. Uncle Vernon nodded sheepishly from the kitchen; and put a tray of moist, chocolatey brownies in the oven. Shouldn't you be doing that? Harry thought; but he was a very obedient young boy, so he answered the door right away. He turned the brass, metal doorknob; and pulled open the heavy, wooden door. On the porch was standing a huge, muscular man with a big, manly beard; and he was dressed in a plaid, red shirt, blue jeans, and sturdy, leather boots. His chest was covered in a thick, unruly carpet of coarse, brown hair. He wore a necklace that looked to Harry like a lowercase T. Just looking at Harry feel happy, peaceful somehow; but he couldn't say why! "Good morning, kiddo," the man greeted amiably; and smiled at Harry. He had the peaceful, friendly sort of face you just knew you could trust. "My name is Hagrid. Could I speak to your mommy and daddy?" "I don't have a mommy or daddy," Harry replied sadly; and looked at his raggedy, old shoes that were blue. Perhaps that was why he felt so lonely, he thought, not for the first time. Maybe that was what he was missing-a mommy and daddy. But no, that was not quite right. "I am so sorry to hear that!" Hagrid uttered empathetically. "You can speak with my auntie and uncle," Harry retorted politely; and blinked his big, blue, childlike eyes. "What do you want?" Aunt Petunia peered out the door with her narrow, suspicious eyes; and she was wearing a baggy, unflattering pantsuit. "Hello, neighbor! I was wondering if you have been saved," Hagrid exclaimed brightly; and tipped his wide-brimmed, straw cowboy hat. Aunt Petunia laughed a gravelly laugh; and leaned forward on her sturdy, practical boots. "Saved? Don't tell me you are you one of those Christians?" Harry did not know what that word meant; but Hagrid's smile was the most peaceful smile he had ever seen. It made Harry feel warm and happy inside just seeing the glowing, radiant grin on the kind, friendly stranger's face. He wondered why Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did not smile like that... "Yes, I am," Hagrid replied kindly. "Are you?" Aunt Petunia laughed again; and stuck her pointy, sharp nose up in the air. "We are too smart for that. Haven't you read Dawkins? God is dead! Dawkins proved that. Would you like us to educate you on the Dawkins?" "What is a Christian?" Harry queried innocently; and scuffed his shoe on the shaggy, yellow carpet which had not been vacuumed in quite some time. "Christians are people who want to be good," Hagrid explained wisely; and crouched down so he was on eye level with Harry. "We want to go to heaven after we die. Do you know what heaven is, Harry?" Harry shook his head; and his big eyes were wide and curious. "Heaven is a beautiful place where we can be with God." Aunt Petunia smacked her hands over Harry's young ears; and her voice was sickly sweet when she said, "Thank you very much for your concern, sir, but he does not need your religion, he has science and socialism and birthdays. Haven't you heard of Evolution? I have a very good textbook on Evolution that I could give you on it if you would like to learn things." Hagrid laughed wisely. "Evolution is a fairytale. You don't really believe that, do you?" "Yes, I do!" Aunt Petunia screeched. "Well then prove it!" Aunt Petunia could only stare at him; and her big mouth hung open dumbly. Here she thought she was so educated; and always demanded that Christians prove what they believed in; but she couldn't even prove her own religion. It was then that Harry knew who the smart one here was! "Tell me how to get to this heaven place!" Harry cried wistfully, clasping his hands together. Sometimes, the wisdom of little ones is really amazing. We think we grownups know it all; but then God speaks through the mouths of little ones; and shows us how we are all mortals struggling along the path of life. Humility. "All you have to do is be saved. Do you want to be saved?" "I do, I do!" Harry squealed, jumping up and down. "Then pray the sinner's prayer!" Aunt Petunia tried to stop him; but she was powerless against Harry's pure, innocent, holy energy. Soon, Harry had said the prayer. Hagrid beamed happily. "You're a Christian now, Harry!" Hagrid cried proudly. Harry smiled but then interrogated, "But how do I be a Christian? I don't know how!" Hagrid grinned widely. "There is only one place to learn that-Hogwarts School of Prayer and Miracles!" Author's Note: SO what do you all think? I may not be a professional writer; but I think I am being given the talent to pull this off in service of a greater mission =) Blessings! - Grace Ann ... Discuss ... Chapter two will be posted in approx 24 hrs 😊😊
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thgfanficinspo · 4 years
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Fear of the Water, Ch 13
(FINNICK)
I wake up just before dawn in a patron’s bed. I’m surprised I slept at all after what he told me last night about Snow. “They never officially caught who did it,” he says. “Officially, they never even had a suspect. Everybody’s just guessing.”
I’m not surprised, not really. Snow is indirectly responsible for thousands of deaths. It doesn’t make him any less guilty that he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty. But I suppose some things are just too important to delegate, and poison is a way to handle things directly without too much effort.
But it’s not important right now. I can think about all that later. Right now I have to focus on what’s happening in the arena – Annie Cresta and the upcoming feast.
It’s too late to make a break for the Training Center; I’d never get there in time to see the feast. I climb out of bed and head into the living room where an Avox is dusting shelves. He turns on the television without my needing to ask him.
“Thanks,” I say, flopping down on the couch. I didn’t feel the need to cover myself in any way when I left the bedroom since I’m usually naked as often as I’m clothed. Interestingly, all the Avoxes I’ve encountered are unphased by nudity since their employers – owners? – probably have them wiping their riches asses for them.
He mimes eating and drinking. Can I get you anything?
“Sure, thanks.”
He holds up his hands, shrugging. What do you want?
“An apple, if you’ve got any. Maybe a glass of posca.”
He nods and hustles into the kitchen as Caesar appears on screen and begins his introduction. “People of Panem, we find ourselves at the final five tributes of the Seventieth Hunger Games, two Careers and three non-Careers. At this point, it’s anybody’s game. Claudius?”
Claudius Templesmith clears his throat. I’m not sure if Caesar got more sleep or if he just has better makeup artist, but Claudius looks to be in terrible shape compared to him. “Yes, Caesar,” he rasps. “But with very little food available, this feast could be the last shot for some of them.”
They keep twittering as the tributes arrive, each hiding along the tree line or in the doorways of crumbling buildings.
The Avox comes in carrying a round silver tray, which he sets down on the coffee table in front of me. There’s an absurdly large flute of posca at the center, and sliced green apples bloom like flower petals around it. Proteus would appreciate the presentation. “Thank you.”
The Avox bows and exits just as the feast table emerges from the ground in front of the cornucopia. It ascends slowly enough for everyone to get a good look at the items. It’s mostly food but there’s a couple tubes of ointment and even a rain jacket. Nothing’s in a pack or anything, though. It’s all loose, even the berries sprinkled around.
Millet, the Careers, and Hock from are the only  ones to formally show up for the feast. Seegred has hidden herself among the bricks and trees that ring one side of the arena. Annie, of course, remains on her balcony.
Millet has reattached the spearhead to its shaft to make it into a long-range weapon again. She struggled to connect the two at first, but her mentors sent in a ball of twine to help her. it seems secure enough now, but I’m sure she’ll grab another from the Cornucopia if she has the chance.
I’m sure some of them are hoping for clothes in addition to food, since the constant damp leads to the growth of irritating mold. A couple are smart enough to take their clothes out and lay them in the sun during the day, but the mold never totally goes away. The mold causes allergic reactions – congestion, rashes – so medicine is in high demand.
I’m not totally sure why Hock is there. He seems to be doing just fine on his own with those feral cats.
His backpack it already cracked open so he can shovel things into it without fumbling with the zipper. I’m sure some people think he just didn’t notice it was open, but I think it’s deliberate. I think he’s much smarter than people give him credit for. Ryker and Shine don’t have backpacks; they’re probably stashed somewhere.
The gong sounds, marking the beginning of the feast, and Shine, Ryker, and Hock run for the table. But not Millet. She lifts her spear, adjusting it in her hands, and takes aim at Ryker. It lands in his shoulder, the shock of it knocking him to his knees. The very tip of the blade pokes through his shirt on the other side. He’s got enough nerve (and flexibility) to reach around his back and pull it out himself, but he was injured in his throwing arm, so he can’t use the spear himself. Millet dashes for the table while he’s down.
Shine runs to her ally’s aid, but she doesn’t notice Hock barreling toward her and fails to get out of his way in time. He slams into her so hard that we can hear the sound she makes when the air is knocked from her body. He leaves her gasping on the ground.
Ryker has recovered enough to get back in the game. He goes charging toward Hock, Millet, and the table of supplies. He grasps his sword in both hands and starts swinging it runs so that he slashes Millet in the arm the moment he gets close enough. She falls to the ground to avoid the next swing. Hock and Ryker start to face off, and Millet uses the opportunity to gather a spear and two knives from the weapons pile, which everyone else seems to have forgotten about.
She stays crouched on the ground in the hopes that Hock and Ryker will stay too absorbed in their own fight to notice her lying in wait.
Hock drives his dagger through Ryker’s forearm between the bones. He grabs an armful of food and medicine plus a thin windbreaker and runs while he has the chance, leaving the knife imbedded in the other tribute’s flesh.
“Oh!” I can practically hear Caesar flinch. Claudius sharply sucks air in between his teeth, a hiss of sympathetic pain.
Shine chooses to go to Ryker and the table of food rather than pursue Hock.
Millet grabs a long loaf of bread and a tube of medicine and runs in Hock’s direction before Shine gets too close.
Ryker curses through clenched teeth as Shine applies pressure to his wound. She won’t want to pursue the others alone, and even if Ryker wasn’t injured, there would be no reason to track the others since they have what Caesar calls the lion’s share of the food.
Just when all hope seems lost and Caesar has resigned himself to getting no deaths out of the feast, Seegred makes her appearance. “Ooh! Ooh! Look, look, look!” he gasps excitedly.
Hock makes it less than two blocks before Seegred appears in front of him, blocking his path. He charges her, and at the last minute she pulls out her weapon and shocks him. He recovers faster than she expects, though, and she’s forced to flee with only a couple of apples in her arms.
Millet suddenly appears and spears Hock in the gut before he has the chance to get back on his feet. She pulls the pack from his shoulders as he bleeds and yanks the windbreaker from underneath him. She turns her attention to Seegred, but she’s already out of throwing range. She hesitates, nostrils flared, as she considers whether or not to go after the girl who, according to the oddsmakers, is now her top contender.
“You know, I can’t decide who I like better: Millet or Seegred,” Caesar says.
“Seegred might be even sharper than Beetee,” Claudius says. He’s referencing Beetee Latier of District 3, one of Seegred’s mentors, who used his tech savvy to electrocute his remaining six opponents in the arena. He is simultaneously the smartest and weirdest person I’ve ever met. Well, second-weirdest after fellow victor Wiress.
Hock’s throat bobs as he drinks in air. His skin has lost all of its color; he has only minutes left before he bleeds out.
Millet looks behind her and then back in the direction Seegred ran. She’s still making up her mind about whether or not it’s worth it to follow her. She decides it isn’t.
Millet  makes her way deeper into the arena, putting as much distance between herself and the Careers as possible. She walks for at least half an hour while Caesar and Claudius discuss the shifting odds after the feast.
And then she stumbles on Annie’s hiding place. Annie isn’t visible from the ground; it’s the song that gives her away.
My mother, she butchered me My father, he ate me My sister, little Ann-Marie She gathered up the bones of me
And tied them in a silken cloth to lay under the juniper       Tweet, tweet! What a pretty bird am I!
Annie becomes aware of the other girl’s presence and stops singing. She peers over the edge of her balcony and she and Millet lock eyes for a moment.
Annie regards Millet as she would a stray cat. She settles back into her spot and resumes her song. Millet looks the structure up and down, adjusting her staff in her hands. There are thick vines all across the building’s façade, so climbing up shouldn’t be a problem. Millet’s problem is what to do with her spears and her newly acquired food. She keeps the pack on and lays the spears on her collar bones and tucks her neck against her chest to hold them there.
She manages to climb about five feet up before making a misstep. Her spears fall away. She has the sense to hang on to the vines so she doesn’t fall back to the ground. Instead, it’s an unpleasant, unsteady slide. She falls on her ass of course but at least she doesn’t break anything.
She gets up and dusts herself off, picks up her spears, and looks back up at Annie’s balcony one last time before heading off.
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until it comes out as a sigh of relief. Annie’s all right. At least for now. That’s both a blessing and a curse, though. I don’t want her to die, but she’s going to anyway and I just want to get it over with.
“Well, that’s disappointing,” Caesar says. “It would be interesting to see Annie and Millet in combat. Millet would be the obvious favorite to win, but Annie defeated a major contender without any weapons. But her abilities have probably diminished since going into shock.”
The cameras close in on Annie's face. She looks strangely relaxed as she tightens the reeds and grasses in the mat she uses as a roof. I remember somebody saying she weaves nets for a living. I suppose this is a familiar activity for her; that's why it's relaxing.
But she's still singing. She's always singing.
My mother, she butchered me My father, he ate me My sister, little Ann-Marie She gathered up the bones of me
And tied them in a silken cloth to lay under the juniper       Tweet, tweet! What a pretty bird am I!
“I’ll tell you what, Claudius, Annie may be the one to watch in all of this,” Caesar says. “She’s in shock, obviously, but she’s been feeding herself from the ponds and sinkholes. She knows how to keep herself alive.”
“I hope we get the chance to see her in action,” Claudius agrees.
"That would certainly be something." The camera cuts from the arena to Caesar’s smiling face. “And now for the weather.”
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