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official-weasley · 3 years

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Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: curse words, mentions of alcohol, SMUT

A/N: This chapter contains a rather long sexy scene (probably the longest I have ever written and well..it’s…juicy. I had a day, okay. BYE 🙈)

Chapter 14

Charlie

3 months later…

“Charlie, you got a minute?” I stopped in front of the Admission Office.

“Of course, Ernie. Got something for me?” I grinned at him.

“A letter from your brother.” He handed me the envelope. “What got you all cheered up today?”

“What do you mean?” I kept looking at the letter.

After all these months it still felt amazing getting a couple of letters per week from Bill.

“I heard you whistling walking here. You only whistle when you’re in a really good mood.” He smirked.

“It’s the first Saturday in August, Ernie. You know what that means!” I couldn’t hide the smile that spread across my face.

I can’t believe Ernie noticed when I whistle.

The truth is, I don’t recall the last time I was this happy. The mating season was over. Bill and I were on speaking terms again. Just last month I was able to see all my siblings and my parents again.

We had a family reunion and Bill and I got Ron drunk by accident. We had two bottles on the table. One with wine and the other with apple juice and we forgot to check the bottle before pouring him a drink.

He, of course, didn’t say anything and after two glasses he was hammered. Bill and I couldn’t stop laughing at the way he spoke and he was so tipsy. He tried getting up and almost fell flat on his face and then found it so funny that he fell off the bench we were sitting on.

It wasn’t funny when mum found us and saw something was wrong. Bill tried to distract her but failed and she figured us out. She made us take Ron to bed and then we planned to hide in the attic with the ghoul but mum found us and she shouted in our faces for a solid hour. I felt as if I was 12 again.

When she stopped she made us go down and wait on our family members for the rest of the night. Before we did, we made an excuse that we need to use the toilet and we locked ourselves in the bathroom on the middle floor and started laughing so hard I thought I won’t be able to catch a breath. We might be 23 and 25, which is way too old to make mum so mad, but we didn’t care. We were having the time of our lives.

I can’t begin to describe how happy it made me that I could hang out with Bill again. With my siblings. To get a bone-crushing hug from Ginny and play chess with Ron. It’s indescribable. For the first time since I started working in Romania, I wanted to plan my days off to go and see them again and I was loving it.

I was finally myself again. Talking to my family. Supporting and being there for my siblings. Teasing Bill for being so in love and having the best job in the world. I even made myself a bookshelf and I am slowly filling it with books.

My routine in the Sanctuary is more or less the same. I wake up. Make myself a coffee and go watch the sunrise. I am no longer overthinking if Rhylee’s going to be there and if she is, we simply watch the sun showing itself from behind the mountains together.

I didn’t think I would be able to be friends with her after what happened at her place that night but we grew even closer. She was one of my best friends. That didn’t mean my feelings for her faded away. But they were easier to bear now that I didn’t feel guilty for being in love with her.

I have come to terms that I will never call her mine. It was painful, I am not going to lie about that but at least I can move on and not overthink her every move.

Bill and my friends in the Reserve all think that I should tell her how I feel but every time they try and persuade me I stop them. I made a mistake telling my mates what Bill told me about Nick. Ever since I did they are trying to do everything to bring me and Rhylee together. At first, I wanted to kill them but now I just find it amusing.

I am proud of myself for how much I’ve grown. I feel more mature and I see things differently. I see what matters and I push myself to do things that make me happy. I read more. I run. I train Aami and Bean, that’s the name Rhylee decided to give our albino Short-Snout. I hang out with my friends and advise my siblings. I really couldn’t ask for more.

The fact that I am still awestruck every time I see Rhylee or that my heart wants to escape my ribcage every time she laughs or looks at me, is just a minor inconvenience now. I can deal with that with everything else being so great. I wouldn’t change my current life for anything in the world if it means I make my family happy and I can hang out with my friends while having the best job.

At first, I wanted to fight my feelings. Push them down. Get rid of them somehow. But I quickly realized that I can’t change them and that it’s pointless to think they are simply going away. I have meaningless sex and even though it’s never as it was with Rhylee, it still counts as a fun night and it’s a good distraction.

I might get lucky and find myself a girl to settle down with one day. For now, I was happy with the things being as they were. It wasn’t perfect but it was much much better compared to the painful loop I was in before.

“I’ll be damned!” Ernie’s voice brought me back to reality. “I forgot about the party tonight!” He slammed his hand at his forehead. “Thanks, Charlie for reminding me! Can you imagine me forgetting about it?” He shook his head.

“Ernie, if it’s going to be anything like last year, just the music and us being all over the place would remind you soon enough.” I laughed.

Every year, in the first week of August we had a party. We invited everybody from the neighboring wizard villages and there was always someone that borrowed something Muggles call speakers. We decorate the central area of our village with lights and put tables and chairs around it so it looks like a dance floor. We hang the speakers from the trees and we help with the cooking throughout the day.

The party officially begins the second we are done with work and the music starts playing. It’s something we all look forward to all summer. Theo has been talking about it for two weeks now. He made an entire plan on getting us all so wasted that if he asked Gerta out again, we won’t remember how she slaps him in the face.

“You’re right, mate! I’ll see you there!” Ernie started putting papers together. “I have to clean up the office early if I want to make it to the party in time!”

“Want me to help you? I just finished working.” I offered.

“Oh, no! You go get all nice and ready, so you can dance with the ladies!” He laughed and I followed.

“Will do, Ernie. Will do.” I waved to him and started walking toward my home.

People were already running left and right, checking if everything is ready. I unlocked my front door and closed it with my foot while opening Bill’s letter.

Dear Charlie,

I know you’re going to be busy this weekend with your big party and everything, but I just had to write to you about this.

I bought a wedding ring for Fleur today. I am planning on asking her to marry me this weekend. I am taking her to the beach near Shell Cottage. Dad said that perhaps we could even buy it if we ask aunt Muriel nicely. I don’t want to get my hopes up but I can imagine myself living with Fleur there.

I am planning a romantic picnic and popping the question by the end of the night! I would love your opinion on the matter but I sent out this letter too late for your owl to reach me with your answer. Perhaps while you’re reading this, I’m already engaged!

Can you feel how nervous I am through my letter?

Anyways, I just needed to share that with you!

Wish me luck!

Oh, and have fun at the party! Please have the time of your life and don’t hold back in case anything ought to happen, if you know what I mean!

Love, Bill

Merlin’s beard, he is getting engaged! It was Saturday, so either he is already or he will be soon!

I jumped in the air in the middle of my living room that’s how happy I was for him. I hope they can convince aunt Muriel to sell them Shell Cottage. We used to go there as kids and it’s a wonderful place to start a family.

I blinked as I felt my eyes water. I wish I had the time to write him back and tell him how fucking proud I am of him for doing this and that I think Fleur will be thrilled for how he is planning to propose. I can’t wait for them to have babies so I can be an uncle!

What was I doing?

I put the letter down and scratched my head. I was so excited for my brother that I completely forgot.

Party! Right!

I hurried to take a shower and then opened my closet to see what I could wear. I didn’t wear jeans for ages. So let’s go with that and a buttoned shirt. I checked myself out in the small mirror in the bathroom and combed my hair with my fingers. As much as I could comb it. My hair was untamable.

I think I look pretty good! Not that it matters as I knew Theo is going to get us all drunk in about 15 minutes! I locked the door behind me and started walking toward the music.

“There he is!” Andrew raised his glass at me the second he spotted me.

“Look at you being all handsome!” Theo put a hand over my shoulder the second I sat down.

“Are you flirting with me, Theodore?” I winked at him. “My place or yours?”

“Damn, Charles. Is that how you flirt with women because if I wasn’t married I would go with you right now.” Peter laughed.

“I would love to, Weasley. But I am going home with Gerta tonight!” Theo was determined.

“Really?” Andrew and John asked together before bursting out laughing.

“We should get one of those Muggle devices that capture what is going on. So that even if none of us remembers tonight we could watch it in the morning.” Evan said.

“I will stay sober just to see Theo get slapped by Gerta!” Peter smirked.

“You’re already tipsy, boss.” Andrew obviously didn’t believe Peter will stay sober.

“Damn, you’re right.” Peter said after a few seconds of thinking about it.

We all started laughing.

Three hours later our table had 3 empty bottles of Fire Whiskey on it, more empty beer bottles than one could count and the waitress just brought another round. To say that we were completely hammered was an understatement.

We were laughing at something, tears running down my face. I am pretty confident none of us knew what the joke was or who told it.

“Theodore, there you are damn it!” Our faces got serious the second we comprehended who was standing in front of us.

“Gerta, love!” Theo stood up, knocking a few bottles off the table.

“I am just wasted enough to say yes to you. Now come with me before I change my mind!”

I have no idea how Theo fancied this woman. I was terrified of her. Even her harsh voice scared me.

We all watched Theo and Gerta going towards her hut with our mouths open.

“Please, tell me one of us will be able to remember that in the morning!” Peter whined.

“I don’t think I could forget this if I drank the entire alcohol stash in the Sanctuary.” Andrew said slowly.

He looked like he was about to throw up.

“What is happening?” Evan, who was sleeping, leaned on his crossed arms, lifted his head.

“Gerta just took Theo home.” I answered, still in shock.

“What?!” I thought his eyes were going to fall out of their sockets and I think it’s safe to say he just sobered up.

“Look, Charlie!” Peter and John leaned against me. “It’s Rhylee.” They sang together.

“So?” I rolled my eyes.

I knew this was coming. I was hoping they would be too drunk to remember to tease me about her, but apparently, they weren’t there yet.

“Come on! Go and dance with her!” John tried pushing me to stand up but he was too weak.

It was funny how I was the youngest but did the best with alcohol.

“Give me a break, mates.” I pretended to look through the bottles to see if there was one that wasn’t opened yet.

“C’mon! She has been eyeing you all night!” Peter said. “Have some fun, will you!”

I sighed and got up. I knew they wouldn’t stop until I would go and ask her to dance. And to be perfectly honest, I was too drunk to care or to feel nervous about it.

I made my way to her. Surprised that I wasn’t tipsy at all.

“Hi.” I waved at her awkwardly. “Want to dance?”

“Sure!” She grinned and stood up at once.

I haven’t noticed how drunk she was until we reached the dance floor and she started hugging me. We danced to a few songs and I didn’t even dare to look at the table where my friends were sitting. They would probably start cheering.

The next song was a slow one. Shit! Who’s idea was this?

Rhylee pulled me closer, our bodies slamming against each other and if I wasn’t so steady on my feet we would collapse to the ground. She wrapped her arms around my waist and brought her face closer to mine.

“You look very handsome tonight.” She winked at me.

Okay, I think it’s time to take her home. She is drunk and doesn’t know what she’s saying.

“Thanks. You look great too.” I didn’t know what else to say.

Of course, she looked great. She was gorgeous. But I’m not going to admit that to her.

I didn’t like the way she was looking at me. Not one bit. It’s the same look she was giving me all night the night we had sex at the Burrow and I am not going through that again. I might not be hurting anyone this time but she was in a relationship.

“Let’s get you home, shall we.” I smiled at her and hugged her over the shoulder.

“No! Why?” She tried to stop me. “We just started dancing. Come on, Charlie! Loosen up a bit!” She got so close to me that if I wouldn’t move my head backward we would kiss.

This was getting out of hand.

She wrapped her hands around me again. How was she so strong if she was as drunk as she appeared to be? I sighed and we danced through one more song.

“Okay, now you can take me home.” Her whispering in my ear sent shivers down my spine.

We were slowly making our way through the crowd, toward her cottage when I remembered that I never opened the present she got me for Christmas at the Burrow. I have no idea why it popped in my head but I was just drunk enough not to care and admit to her that I lost it.

“Hey, Rhy?” I cleared my throat.

“Yes?” Her eyes were too hopeful for my liking.

“Do you remember the present you gave me for Christmas when we met?” She simply hummed in response.

I felt my cheeks turn pink. This was embarrassing. After what happened between us and she gave me the little package, I simply tossed it in my bag. I don’t remember where I put it once I got back to Romania and I don’t even know why we are talking about it now but apparently drunk Charlie’s curiosity got the better of him and wants to know what’s inside.

“I never got the chance to open it and I misplaced it somehow. What was inside?” I said as quickly as I could.

I didn’t want to offend her for losing it.

“What?” She laughed.

“What was inside the little box?” I repeated the question.

“Where did you lose it?” She ignored me.

“It has to be somewhere in my cottage if I didn’t toss it in the trash by accident.” I scratched my chin, thinking hard where it could be.

“Well, let’s go then!” She grabbed my hand and started walking.

“Where are you taking me?” I chuckled.

“We are going to search your place for my present!” She bestowed me with the biggest grin I have ever seen.

She seemed so pleased with her idea.

“Now?” I chortled.

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “The gift might be silly but we got to see what I got you!”

“You don’t remember?” I raised my eyebrows at her and she stopped walking for a second.

“I am not sure.” She said slowly after a few seconds. “Come on, Charlie! It’ll be fun!”

I haven’t seen her this relaxed and happy in months. She grabbed my hand and started walking towards my cottage again. She was so excited to do this that I simply couldn’t deny her the satisfaction of finding the little box. And to be completely honest, I didn’t want to stop her.

“Okay, so if I was a little box, where would I be?” She put her hands on her hips, thinking hard, her eyes scanning every shelf and drawer. I started in the kitchen and she went to check the compartment in my bathroom.

After half an hour we completely trashed the place but I didn’t mind at all. I was having too much fun with her. She started throwing the clothes out of my closet, jumper after jumper and I started moving the socks away to see if I tossed it in the drawer.

I almost gave up when my fingers touched something that wasn’t fabric. I pulled out a small red box with a green bow on it. This was it!

“Rhy, I found it!” I heard her gasp.

I think she was standing inside my closet. I laughed when she poked her head out of it. She was adorable!

She hurried to me, stepping over piles of clothes, and stopped right in front of me.

“Open it.” She whispered, her eyes on the box in my hands.

I slowly removed the lid and shook the box’s contents onto my palm. I couldn’t believe it. It was a dragon scale. A dragon scale of an albino dragon.

That’s what she got me for Christmas?

I know it didn’t mean anything because she didn’t even know who she was bringing the gift to but I was still astounded. She knew I loved dragons so she got me a dragon scale. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

“You call this a silly gift?” I breathed.

Rhylee dragged her finger across it and put it back in the box. I was so in shock at what it was that I didn’t notice how fast she was breathing. She took the box from my hand and placed it on top of my dresser.

“Rhy, are you o…”

She cupped my face and kissed me hard on the mouth. I was so startled by her action that I didn’t have the time to respond.

“I’m sorry.” She pulled away, her hand over her mouth.

“Emm…it’s okay.” I didn’t know what to say.

I just kept staring at her with my eyes wide open, trying to calm my heart down.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” I could see the panic in her eyes growing.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to pretend I didn’t enjoy the kiss? Because that would be a bloody lie. I have been dreaming about kissing her again since we spent the night together at the Burrow.

Did she even know what she was doing? How drunk was she? Because that kiss definitely sobered me up! I thought we were over this. She stopped that night when I came to her place. Why did she do it now? I thought I was doing a good job being her friend. Why does she mess with me like this!

I needed every muscle in my body not to grab her hand and pull her back for another kiss. I can’t do this, can I? She has a boyfriend. Somebody will get hurt again! I can’t go through that guilt again. I can’t hurt someone else. Even if I don’t know the guy. Even if he is a prick like Bill said.

Bill…

What did Bill say in his letter this morning?

Please have the time of your life and don’t hold back in case anything ought to happen, if you know what I mean!

Don’t hold back. Bill, that’s not helping!

I was trapped. I wanted to grab her hand and prevent her from leaving but at the same time, I wanted to do the right thing. My heart was beating so fast that it hurt and the look in Rhylee’s eyes wasn’t helping me decide. It was a mix of panic and hope. Hope, that I would decide for her whether or not this was a bad idea.

Of course, it’s a bad idea, Rhylee! It’s the worst possible idea.

“I have to go.” She bowed her head and started towards the door of my bedroom.

It’s a bad idea.

It is a really bad idea.

I know, damn it!

But do I care?

I stepped toward her, almost tripping over the clothes on the floor.

Do I care?

I grabbed her hand and turned her around, our bodies colliding. Her eyes slowly moved up to lock with mine. We were both breathing heavily.

“Charlie.”

Damn it, Rhylee! You can’t say my name like that. Don’t ask for me to do something.

Okay, let’s go over this again.

Is it a bad idea? Yes.

Do I care? I am just drunk enough that it’s safe to say that no, I do not.

I placed my hands around her neck and kissed her. I thought she was going to resist me. I was waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t. She was doing quite to opposite. She parted my lips with her tongue and it gently found mine. She was kissing me back.

Merlin’s beard, this was insane! I can’t believe I forgot how good her lips felt on mine. What an amazing kisser she was. How soft her lips were and with what passion she kissed me.

I put her hands on her hips and brought us closer to the bed. With a gentle nudge, she was lying on it, that playful look in her eyes again. I climbed on top of her and wrapped my fingers around her hair and gently pulled it back so she tilted her head and revealed her neck.

I placed a soft kiss just behind her right ear and I felt her tremble. I kissed her again, not so softly this time. I started biting her neck and I felt her moving under me.

This simply can’t be wrong. It felt too right to be wrong.

I pushed myself up and started to unbutton my shirt. I looked down at her. Damn, she was so sexy. She always was but the fact that she was wearing a dress when she always wears either jeans or sweatpants was frying my brain.

“Please, fuck me, Charlie!”

Seriously, she was begging me?

Why in Godric’s Hollow did I put a shirt with so many buttons on? I don’t have time to do this! I put my hands on my chest and pulled the shirt off me. The sound of fabric ripping filled my ears and my heart started pumping even faster when I saw Rhylee’s eyes shine.

I helped her get up and pressed her against the wall. She wants me to do her, I will do it my way!

I took my precious time unzipping her dress. I could feel her getting impatient but I knew she liked the tease. If she only knew what she got herself into.

She took her arms out of her sleeves and shook her body so the dress fell off her. I turned her around, her back to the wall now, and spread her legs. She was observing my every move, curious what I was going to do next.

“Lift your arms.” I demanded and without questioning me they were above her head.

I wrapped my left hand around her wrists and pulled her underwear down with my right one. I unhooked her bra without hesitation. She was now standing in front of me, completely naked. I stuck my tongue down her throat while circling her nipple. She moaned in my mouth.

Oh, Rhylee, you haven’t felt anything yet.

I slowly moved my fingers down across her belly button, still kissing her. It didn’t really surprise me that the second my fingers ran past her clit, they drowned in her wetness. She gasped in my mouth as I started moving them in circles.

I let go of her arms now and she put them around my neck, trying to keep it together. I have to say she was doing a rather poor job.

“What is it?” I teased her when I started moving my fingers around faster and her eyes rolled back.

“Fuck…you.” She said between her moans.

“I’m a little busy focusing on you right now, Rhy.” I whispered to her.

She tried squeezing her legs together but I didn’t let her. I felt her getting tighter and I was determined not to stop until she screams from pleasure.

“Are you going to cum already?” I laughed playfully.

“I…I can’t hold it.” She cried.

“Oh, don’t hold back.” I bit the tip of her ear as her breathing got even faster.

She buried her fingers in my hair and kissed me. She was pressing hard against my lips, clutching my fingers with her soaked walls, muffling her moans with the kiss. It was pure euphoria, feeling her tremble. It brought me pleasure on another level.

“Stop.” She finally pulled herself together to talk.

“Are you sure?” I mocked her.

The look in her eyes was saying otherwise.

“It’s your turn.” She winked at me.

“Oh, I am not done with you.” I pressed her harder against the wall and placed a gentle kiss on her collar bone.

She winced, her body still sensitive to my touch.

She was speechless and her eyes were full of the wonder of what my next move will be.

“You begged me to fuck you. Don’t you know you have to think before you speak?”

I bit her neck. And her shoulder. And made a few circles with my tongue around her nipple, while playing with the other one with my finger. I kissed the scar that painted her belly. And just below the belly button. I got to my knees and spread her legs again.

I slowly ran my finger across her clit and she shivered.

“Are you ready to cum for me again?” She bit her lip and nodded in reply.

My fingers slipped back into her. This time I decided to take it more slowly. Let’s see how she likes it if I move my fingers in and out. Does that do anything?

She arched her back, scratching the wall behind her. And what if I do this?

I spread her legs just a bit more, lowered my head, and kissed her wet lips.

“Oh.” She let out a sigh.

I ran my tongue over her clit and started turning it in gentle circles. As she started breathing faster I doubled the pressure and felt her knees give in.

“Keep it together, Rhy.” I teased, my fingers still hard at work.

She grabbed my hair and pushed me back to continue my work.

“Fuck, Charlie.”

I don’t know if she was so horny or was I doing such a good job as it didn’t take her long to cum again. Her body was spasming more than before and this time she didn’t have my lips to stifle her moans. I loved how loud she was. How her pleasureful sounds filled my ears. It was like a drug.

I got up and wrapped my arms around her. She was a mess.

“Have enough yet?” I winked at her.

“No.” She giggled.

“Good.” I nodded.

I put my hands on her hips and lifted her and she automatically wrapped her legs around me. I gave her just enough space between our bodies that she unzipped my jeans and pulled them off.

She grabbed my dick, looking me straight in the eyes, and bit her lips when she placed it right in front of her juicy entrance. I don’t know what she was expecting as a surprised gasp left her mouth when I thrust in her.

She wrapped her arms around me and held tight to keep herself steady, moaning while I was rocking my hips back and forth.

Fuck, she felt good. This was insane. I knew that with all the adrenaline running through my veins, the alcohol left my head a long time ago but I still felt dizzy. I can’t believe it was even better than the last time.

I fantasized about sleeping with her more times than I would like to admit. I just couldn’t help it. She was the best I ever had. I could be myself around her. Somehow I knew exactly what she wanted and I wanted to give it to her. Badly.

I have to start thinking about something else. She felt too good and she was getting tighter again. I want to wreck her completely. I want her to forget her name and I want her to scream mine again.

“Charlie.” She moaned in my ear.

“Have enough of me yet?”

“Charlie.” She said louder.

“Yeah.”

“I…”

“What is it, sweetheart?” I placed a soft kiss on her neck as I started to move my hips even faster.

“I…”

“Come on, you can do it.” I encouraged her to speak.

I was too amused by how weak she was.

“Oh, my…” Her eyelids fluttered and I felt her squeezing me even more.

“Cum for me again.” I breathed.

I could watch her moan and twist from pleasure all night every night.

“Charlie, I can’t.” She finally managed to complete a full sentence.

I stopped moving my hips and froze.

“Are you okay?” I lifted her chin and made her look at me.

“Why the fuck did you stop?” Her eyes widened.

“You said you can’t, I thought…” I blinked at her.

I was so confused.

“I…” She bit her lip and looked away.

“What is it?” I tilted my head to find her eyes again.

“I never came three times before.” She mumbled so fast that I thought I heard her wrong.

“Oh.” I pressed my lips together, to stop them from spreading into a smile. “Well, do you think you could cum again?” I asked gently.

“Yes. I was close.” That naughty smile is going to be the death of me.

“Then let’s break your record, shall we?” I smirked at her and lifted her so she wrapped her legs around me again.

I entered her slowly this time and she pushed my hips more towards her immediately when she saw what I was doing.

“Don’t get slow on me now, Weasley.” She bit my lip and sent a new wave of adrenaline through my veins.

I decided to tease her just for saying that. I slowly pulled my hips back, so that only my tip was inside of her and then pushed my hips forward again with such a force that it took her breath away.

I did it again.

And again and again and again until she started screaming from pleasure again. For a second I thought she was going to pass out as her eyes sealed shut and she gasped for air between her moans. But I was determined not to stop until her body relaxes or she tells me to stop. She was doing neither.

She barely had the strength to wrap her hand around my neck so I could lift her when she stopped moaning. I took her to my bed and covered her.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her voice rusty from all the sounds she was making.

“I’m going to take a shower. You need some rest.” I winked at her.

“We need to take care of you first.” Her eyes moved from mine, down to my dick which was still hard.

“You can do that later. Now rest.” I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

I walked out of the room, straight into the shower.

Just as the hot water started running down my body, I felt her press her body against mine from behind.

“Miss me already?” I turned around and smirked.

“I told you…” She kneeled. “We have to take care of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to say anything else as she grabbed my dick and put it in her mouth. Damn, she was good at sucking dick. It was unbelievable. I was the one with weak knees now. She was moving her mouth so fast as if she wanted to get revenge for before.

I wanted to watch her doing it. I wanted to see how she chokes on my dick but I couldn’t. It felt too good and I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling back and closing them. I buried my fingers into her wet hair and helped her move.

I loved how she enjoyed doing it. The way she was moaning and looking up at me. I can’t take it anymore. I let out a loud groan as I came, the water washing my load off her face.

“Now, I can rest.” She smirked and I helped her get up.

I turned her around, wrapped my arms around her and placed a kiss on her shoulder.

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madsdefencesquad · 3 years

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The semi-companion piece to Kevin's one and it's all about Mads, of course. Dedicated to Kevison Nation (every single fudging one of you) and to @flythesail and @penny259 (your comments have me weeping haha 😚). Also on ao3.

A little into Madison Pearson by x (with additions) Summer 2026

I first met Madison Pearson a year ago at George Clooney’s 65th birthday celebrations in Perthshire, Scotland in a fashion closer to that of long-travelled friends who haven’t seen each other in years than that of complete strangers who just so happened to enjoy the same foodie indulgence (bacon-wrapped dates, anyone?). Despite the grandeur of the guests present at the lavish affair – politicians, laureates, philanthropists and A-list celebrities (including her own husband actor Kevin Pearson) – Madison Pearson had the kind of invigorating energy that just drew absolutely anyone in.

Perhaps it was the enchanting mix of contained excitement and understated class she exuded that will warm you upon beholding up close, or perhaps it was the charm of a more loquacious woman of California mixed with the rare intelligence of a world-traveller. Either way, despite the taxing social waltz her husband took her throughout the night bumping elbows with the elites, Madison was one of those people who truly left a lasting impression.

Squeezed next to her in the back of a cab, Madison is head-to-toe in Temperley London x Axel Arigato (vintage-inspired nautical jumpsuit and platform suedes) en route to a baking class where her five-year-old twins Nick and Franny are waiting for her to join them along with their father.

“I was supposed to get changed,” she says, lamenting on her attire worn for a meeting with some West Chester development executives that’s perhaps too luxurious for an afternoon of mixing flour and butter and sugar. “But you have to make at least a bit of an impression, right?”

Madison has been the powerhouse head honcho of the Pearson family business, Big Three Homes, since its establishment three years prior. With a solid background in business management and a surefooted ability to navigate the mores of an ever-changing property development landscape, it was no question that Madison would rise up to the challenge of breaking into the market with a business model founded on family, philanthropy and sustainability.

Despite growing up largely independent without people close enough to call family, Madison has also found the means to speak about her experiences in an effort to encourage and give hope to the younger generation of girls and young women who may be going through an ongoing battle between themselves and their self-worth.

“I never felt enough,” she says of the origins of her battle with her eating disorder that began when she was still in middle school. “I look at Franny and she’s so small and carefree and I want to give her everything I never had, but I know that even that won’t be enough unless she herself realises how worthy she is of all the good and all the love that she deserves.”

We pull up outside the baking studio and she brightens at spotting her husband and twins’ silhouettes behind the frosted glass windows. Nick and Franny almost topple over their stools as they rush to overwhelm their mother while their father scrambles to keep his heart rate down—a close call with their foreheads hitting the edge of the marble benches as they got down will just about do it.

Even with her petite frame, Madison carries the twins like she’s just holding a bag of groceries. Unsurprisingly, both Nick and Franny are as enamoured of their mother as she is of them and are on the verge of complaining when put down just as Kevin, grinning ear to ear, envelops Madison in his huge arms—to be fair, he’s always been quite remarkably chiselled but the Tom Ford sweater and those tailored jeans (chosen by his wife “of course” as Kevin credits) is a different level altogether. He leans down to give her a kiss.

Back in Perthshire a year ago at the Clooney extravaganza, I caught up with the married couple the day after the festivities over a traditional Scottish breakfast as we overlooked the highlands of the Gleneagles.

Perhaps unlike the Clooneys, who were still entertaining their guests from all over world, the Pearsons were much more relaxed within their own family bubble. Having just celebrated Kevin’s twin sister’s wedding three days prior with close family and friends, the pair was grateful to spend some quality time with each other and their twins without the need to be anything but present.

From my perch, Kevin and Madison were the kind of couple that were very much “old souls”. They held an affection for each other that is rooted from sincere fondness and adoration for each other—they converse like deep friends and trade wits like secret lovers. And despite the media attention of the adorable moments shared online (often by the social-savvy actor), Madison is uncompromising when it comes to the privacy of their children.

While the twins dipped in and out of the table pilfering scones or taking over their mother’s green juice, neither one of their parents were the least bit bothered by the constant attention they need to provide such a rumbunctious pair.

“They’re so funny,” Kevin said, a careful eye on little Nick who was staring at the whipped cream on his tiny finger like he was contemplating on wiping it on his dad’s face.

I do recall having a good laugh when I accompanied the family on a tour of a nearby 17th century castle and little Franny, a copy-and-paste of her mother, pointed at a wood-cut table decoration of what looked to be intertwined lovers and confidently yelled, “That’s mommy and daddy!”

The fierce mama bear of the Pearson household of four (Madison sometimes calls her husband “kid number three, but don’t tell him that or he’ll get ideas of trying for another!”), remarks that forging her own path away from her husband’s spotlight had been remarkably easy, and she gives much of the credit to the rest of the Pearson clan who all treasure family more than anything.

Even with the notoriety of her brother-in-law, rising political star Randall Pearson, who currently serves in the Philadelphia municipality and is on track for a career in congress, Madison says that quality time to rest and recuperate is a must.

“[My sisters-in-law] and I have a girls weekend every other month when we can where we literally book ourselves a gorgeous Airbnb and just glamp down. I’m talking sleep-ins, endless mimosas, spa sessions… you name it! It’s the kind of getaway that [our husbands] get really jealous for.”

And upon being reminded, Kevin, now sporting Franny’s tiny chef’s hat, shakes his head at his wife conspicuously as if in reprimand that he most definitely should be included in the gals’ next glamping session despite him being, well, not a gal.

While Nick proudly counts five of about a thousand sprinkles that are scattered on his side of the bench, Madison congratulates him with a warmth and pride that is infectious enough to make you think that she’s proud of you too. And despite her husband’s very obvious possessiveness over her—you could count only one occasion where the actor is not at arm’s length from her—when Madison focuses her attention on you, it’s not difficult to believe that this powerhouse woman could truly do absolutely anything.

“She is that and more,” Kevin says about his wife. “Sometimes I can’t believe that this is my life. Our life! Like, she’s mywife, and these two are our kids. It’s just wild! I’m grateful, just grateful.”

Despite the doubts and fear that had been Madison’s constant companions for most of her life and especially going into adulthood, there is a fierce resilience in her that she could only credit her dear grandmother Frances—her own daughter having been named after her.

“She always believed in me,” she recalls, an eye on the twins squatting by the oven watching their creations rise. Despite the deep grief and loss that are quite intimately shared by the married couple, Madison says that it has only made them more resolute in loving their children and each other as best as they possible can every day.

“You just don’t know when it’s your time,” she says. “So, Kev and I make sure that there are no ‘next times’ when it comes to our family.”

When I had asked Madison about Big Three Homes back in Scotland, she squealed at the origin story of its founding, which started with Kevin’s late father Jack Pearson having asked his wife Rebecca to start the business together as partners.

Although Jack’s tragic and unexpected passing put an indefinite hold to this dream, its fulfilment through his son Kevin and through Madison is a testament to the kind of legacy that Jack Pearson had begun through his kids.

“I mean, it started off as more of a passion project for Kev,” Madison says. “But we knew it was always going to be something really special. Especially because his first project was the house that Jack had wanted to build for his mom. And when Kevin had this wonderful idea of bringing the family together to start the business and he asked me to be a part of it, how could I have said no!”

Kevin makes a point to say though that even if the idea of Big Three Homes originally came from his parents, its fulfilment is as much a part of his and Madison’s own story as it is his parents’. And choosing to have Madison work alongside him wasn’t just the best choice (given how much of a boss she is), but it was the only choice he ever wanted or considered.

“I know this is cliché, but I can’t stand not being with her,” Kevin says. “I made a point of this when our twins were born, and I meant it!”

Madison and the family split their time between California and Pennsylvania both for Kevin’s work and for the business, but nowadays, it’s more of an 80-20 split in favour of the east coast.

When asked about a career path carved away from her hometown in California, Madison says fondly, “It surprises a lot of people when I say this but I’m actually an east coast girl.”

This fun fact translates quite well in Madison’s day to day. She could turn any conversation into an erudite discussion, and she will utterly beguile you with her knowledge of books and literature—her constant companions when she can sneak away to her own personal Taj Mahal, a stunning Japanese garden in the backyard of their Pennsylvania home which Kevin built especially for her.

As the Pearsons continue to make a splash in the world of construction, politics, arts and entertainment—a rare mix indeed for a family in the spotlight—Madison is determined to continue writing a story with her husband and her children that she never had growing up.

With the twins happily destroying their creations by the mouthfuls, Madison promises that another visit is a must and perhaps this time, she can show us a collection of Kevin’s baby photos coupled with her own personal commentary to boot.

And who would say no to that.

#kevison #kadison #kevin and madison #still not over that kadison tag but loving it coz yes to more madison yeeeeee #I tried to not let Kevin get away with being gushy but he keeps taking over!!#lezbereal he's in too deep we get it boyy #I need to do a combined one because Uncle Nicky and some of the fam has to feature am I roighttttt #anywhoo hope y'all enjoy this <3 #this is us #tiu #kevison fanfics #kevison fanfic #tiu spoilers #I know most of the deets won't be canon after season 6 but whatever I do what I want #kevin pearson #madison this is us #madison pearson

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singledarkshade · 3 years

Text

After The Holiday

Summary: Invited to spend time with her new boyfriend, his son and mother to get to know them better, Gideon worries if it was a good idea. Author’s Note: This is a sequel to Holiday Romance. Enjoy. Gideon lay on the most comfortable mattress she had ever slept on, feeling the sun through the curtains as she listened to the sound of laughter and splashing outside. Sliding out of bed Gideon pulled on her robe and stepped out onto the balcony to her bedroom seeing Rip playing with his son in the pool.

“Hi, Gideon,” Jonas yelled, waving up at her.

“Good morning,” she called back.

Rip gave her a smile, “Breakfast is on the patio whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll be right there,” Gideon replied, watching as Rip threw his son into the water making Jonas squeal with laughter again.

Stepping back inside Gideon dressed before pulling a brush through her hair, still stunned to be here. She’d known Rip for all of two weeks, they’d been dating for less than one and she had accepted an invitation to spend the next few weeks at their beach house to get to know him and his son, as well as his mother. His mother the CEO of Xavier Industries, one of the largest companies in the world, which Rip ran the US arm of.

She felt Beach House was a bit of an understatement, her entire apartment could fit in the bedroom she’d been given.

They were in a small town just outside Central City, a place that was mostly properties like this one. It was a little overwhelming how rich her new boyfriend was but to her relief, despite the massive beachside mansion, they were completely normal people.

Leaving her bedroom, Gideon headed down the back stairs to the kitchen and out to the patio, relieved she had memorised the route when they arrived the night before. Mary Xavier was sitting at the table under the parasol sipping tea, her injured leg resting on a padded stool, and smiled when Gideon joined her.

“Good morning, dear,” Mary greeted, “How did you sleep?”

Gideon nodded, “Very well. The bed is incredible.”

Mary laughed, “I know, the mattresses are so comfortable. I may have gone a little overboard buying them for every bed we have but it was worth it.”

“Gideon!!” Jonas called interrupting them as he ran over to the table, droplets of water spraying from him.

“Good morning,” Gideon smiled at the little boy who then ran over to his grandmother and climbed up onto the seat beside her.

“Jonas,” Rip called as he joined them, “Put your t-shirt on.” Passing the t-shirt to his son, Rip then leaned over and kissed Gideon, “Are we ready for breakfast?”

Jonas nodded with a grin and Rip headed into the kitchen bringing out a large plate with pancakes and waffles.

“Did you make these?” Gideon asked.

“Daddy always makes my favourites for breakfast on the first day of summer holidays,” Jonas told her, “It’s a tradition.”

“We have a few for these two weeks,” Mary told her.

Gideon smiled softly, “I look forward to learning about them.”

Rip checked his watch, he had about ten minutes before they had to leave and get Jonas to his camp. Jonas was currently putting his shoes on as Rip dropped his bag at the front door. He spotted Gideon standing on the patio looking out across the ocean.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly when he reached her side.

Gideon turned to him, “I feel a little bit like an intruder.”

“You’re not,” Rip frowned.

“This seemed like such a good idea yesterday,” Gideon sighed.

Rip wrapped his arm around her, “It still is.”

“But this is your two weeks with Jonas and your mother,” she reminded him, “The first two weeks of summer and I feel…”

“What?”

“Like I shouldn’t be here,” Gideon sighed.

Rip frowned, “I want you to be.” He moved so they were face to face, “Yes, we have some traditions for these two weeks, but Jonas is going a summer camp, mother will be meeting her friends, so it’ll just be us for most of the day this week.”

“A camp?” Gideon asked.

“Booked months ago. I honestly didn’t decide to send him away,” Rip assured her, “Can we at least spend today together and decide later if you want to stay?”

Gideon nodded and smiled when Rip kissed her.

“Daddy!!!” Jonas called suddenly, “We’re going to be late.”

Rip smiled at her, “I’ll be back soon.”

*********************************************

Rip drove through the streets of the small town towards the park where the camp was set up with Jonas in the back who was checking through his bag.

“Jonas,” he said, making his son look up, “What do you think of Gideon?”

“She’s nice,” Jonas told him, “And pretty. She makes you smile.”

“What?” Rip asked confused.

“You smiled all last night, Daddy,” Jonas explained, “You never do that.”

Rip grimaced at his son’s words, “You make me smile.”

“But she makes you smile when I’m not there,” Jonas rolled his eyes, “And that’s good.”

Rip smiled at his son’s thoughts, “I’m glad you like her.”

They reached the carpark for the camp and Rip made sure he had the enrolment email on his phone ready to book Jonas in. Reaching the queue, Rip scanned the notice on the board that gave the parents information for the week.

“Jonas,” an excited voice made them turn to see his best friend William Clayton running over to him. Just behind the boy, his father and soon to be stepmother were walking.

“Rip,” Oliver Queen greeted him, “How are you?”

“Good,” Rip nodded, “How are you both? Should I ask about wedding preparations?”

Felicity Smoak rolled her eyes, “Don’t. It’s not a topic you want me to get onto.”

Oliver laughed, hugging his fiancé, “We’re having a barbecue on Friday if you want to come.”

“I’ll check if we’re free,” Rip promised, before adding, “I can drop William off tonight. I pass your house anyway.”

“That would be great,” Oliver said, “And we can organise a carpool for the rest of the week if you want.”

Rip smiled, “That sounds like a great idea.”

Reaching the desk, they booked their boys in then, after hugs, Jonas and William went running in to find their other friends.

“Let’s work this out,” Rip said pulling out his phone again.

Gideon sat on a lounger by the pool reading her book, feeling a little odd that she was alone in the house. Mary had left not long after Rip, she was meeting what she called her ‘book club’, although the bottle of wine she took with her suggested it was something else.

Hearing noise from the kitchen, she turned to see Rip walking towards her. Gideon moved so he could sit beside her and smiled as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

“Is Jonas safely at his camp?” she asked.

Rip chuckled, “I got a goodbye then he ran in without looking back.”

Leaning into him, she asked, “Feeling a little sad by that?”

“A little,” he confessed. His arm wrapped around her for a moment before he pulled back, “I need to make sure that you know Jonas will always come first with me, he has to.”

“I wouldn’t be here if Jonas wasn’t your top priority,” Gideon told him, “From the moment we met I knew you were a good person but when you started talking about Jonas, I could see how much you love him.”

Rip pressed a kiss to her temple, “He likes you. Says you make me smile. Which you do.”

Gideon took his hand, “So, we have the day to ourselves and no planned activities, what are we going to do?”

Rip gave her an amused smile, laughing when she smacked his arm, “Have you ever been in the town?”

“No,” Gideon said, “I’ve not. Since I moved to Star City the only time that I’ve been anywhere else was a visit to Central City with Sara. And you know about that.”

Rip nodded, “Well it’s nice, the beach is beautiful and there are a lot of restaurants we can have lunch.”

“That sounds…” Gideon stood and tugged him to join her, “Like something we can do tomorrow.”

Rip sighed contentedly as Gideon cuddled close to him. They’d spent the day getting to know one another in every way, talking almost as much as they made love. It had been a long time since he’d felt a connection like this.

“We need to keep an eye on the time,” Gideon murmured softly, “You don’t want to be late.”

Rip nuzzled her neck, “I won’t be.”

“Good,” she moaned at his ministrations, “I don’t want Jonas to think I am stealing you.”

“Come with me to pick him up,” Rip said.

Gideon frowned softly, “Are you sure?”

“You don’t have to hide in here,” Rip told her, “You’re not a secret, Gideon. I want everyone I know to meet you.”

Chuckling Gideon asked, “Show me off?”

“Let’s see you’re brilliant, beautiful and amazing to be around,” Rip told her, “Of course I want to show you off.”

She kissed him again, “If you’re sure.”

“Completely.”

*********************************************

“Daddy,” Jonas called appearing in the living room dragging a large bag with him, “I have the tent.”

Gideon and Rip turned from the movie they were watching in surprise.

“Did you forget?” Jonas asked, sadness covering his face.

Rip shook his head, “Of course I didn’t. But it’s far too early. Come and watch the rest of the movie with us.”

Jonas shrugged and sat beside Rip. It had been four days since they’d come to the beach house, Jonas went to camp each day allowing Gideon and Rip to spend time together which let them get to know one another better. Although she was a little nervous about the barbecue they’d agreed to go to on Friday.

“Why do you need the tent?” Gideon asked.

“We’re going camping,” Jonas told her.

Rip clarified, “In the garden.”

Jonas nodded, “Me and Daddy toast marshmallows, have hot chocolate and sleep in the tent under the stars.”

Gideon smiled, “That sounds like lots of fun.”

“It’s just me and daddy,” Jonas told her sharply.

“Jonas,” Rip scolded his son.

Gideon caught his hand, “Of course, Jonas. I was just saying how fun it sounds.”

Rip tapped his son’s leg and Jonas looked at Gideon, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Gideon said softly, “You’re just looking forward to having your dad to yourself tonight.”

Jonas nodded as he leaned into Rip who grimaced in worry that he was ignoring his son.

“You’re not ignoring Jonas,” Mary rolled her eyes at her son, as he pulled together the supplies for the camp out.

Rip sighed, “It’s just how he snapped at Gideon that it was only us tonight.”

“Michael,” Mary caught his hand, “As much as Jonas likes Gideon, and he does,” she cut him off before he could say anything, “This is a change for him. He’s never had to share you with anyone before.”

Rip frowned and bit his lip in thought.

“Listen to me,” Mary caught his hand, “It’s going to be fine. You’re in a new relationship and it’s wonderful. I’ve not seen you this happy since we lost Miranda. Even Jonas sees how happy she’s made you but it’s a change for him. He just needs some time to get used to this.”

“What do I do?” Rip asked.

“Just what you’re doing,” Mary replied, “You make sure you and Jonas keep up your traditions, and ensure he knows that although Gideon is a part of your life, he’s still your priority.”

“Are you going to be okay alone with my mother?” Rip asked Gideon after dinner while they were finishing the dishes.

She chuckled, “We’ll be fine. This is your time with Jonas, and he is looking forward to it but,” Gideon slid her arms around his waist, “You need to promise to protect me tomorrow night at the barbecue.”

Rip nodded, “I will not leave your side all night.”

With a smile she kissed him, “Good. Now go camping with your son.”

Rip grinned at her before he grabbed the bag and headed to the living room where Jonas was sitting holding the bag for the tent, looking slightly anxious.

“Hey, little man,” Rip smiled at his son, “Are you ready?”

Jonas bounced up excitedly, “We’re going?”

Rip lifted the tent and nodded to him, “Let’s find a good spot.”

They headed out into the garden, just on the edge of the patio so he could use the portable barbecue for toasting marshmallows without destroying the lawn. With Jonas ‘help’, Rip got the tent up and their sleeping bags inside before they put the blankets on the ground to sit on. Settling down, Rip hugged his son close, “Tell me all about your camp this week.”

The next hour passed quickly and Rip finally set up the barbecue so that he could toast the marshmallows.

Hearing footsteps he saw Gideon arrive carrying two mugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonas demanded.

Before Rip could scold his son, Gideon replied, “Your grandmother asked me to bring you your hot chocolate.”

“Oh,” Jonas looked up at her, “That’s nice of you.”

Gideon nodded, “Can I sit with you for a few minutes?”

Jonas shrugged, “If you want.”

Rip took the two mugs before Gideon sat at Jonas’ side and looked out at the view.

“This is a beautiful view,” Gideon said softly, “I can see why you set up your tent here.”

Jonas nodded before whispering, “It’s so daddy doesn’t burn the grass.”

Gideon laughed.

Rip held out some toasted marshmallows to them, Gideon and Jonas both took one, laughing as the sweets melted all over their fingers. They ate several before Gideon stood again.

“You don’t have to leave,” Jonas told her quietly.

Gideon smiled down at him, “This is your special night with your daddy. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

She hesitated before pressing a quick kiss to Jonas’ head then kissed Rip goodnight and left them alone to their camping.

*********************************************

“Are you alright?”

Gideon looked round to Rip and gave a weak smile, “Just a little nervous.”

“Hey,” Rip wrapped his arms around her, “It’s only a barbecue.”

“But it’s sort of the first time we’ve been out as a couple,” Gideon reminded him, “And these are your friends who live in a different world than I do.”

Rip chuckled, “Oliver and Felicity are the most down to earth people you will ever meet. Trust me, you’ll have fun tonight.”

Gideon smiled, “I’m still holding you to the promise that you’ll not leave my side all night.”

“I won’t,” he murmured, kissing her with a smile, “Not just because I promised but because you look stunning.”

She laughed enjoying the warm embrace, hoping that what she was wearing was fine for the evening. Rip had told her the dress code was smart-casual, so she was wearing her good black jeans, red heeled-boots and sparkly red off the shoulder top. Rip was dressed in black denims and a dark blue shirt, so she felt she was properly attired.

“Daddy,” Jonas yelled as he thundered down the stairs, “We’re going to be late.”

Rip turned and caught his son, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Jonas sighed before he turned to Gideon, “You look pretty.”

“And you look very handsome,” Gideon nodded back making Jonas, dressed similarly to his dad, give her a big grin.

Rip grabbed the bottle of wine they were taking with them, handing it to Gideon before helping Mary with her crutches and heading out to the car.

Reaching the Queen’s Beach House, Gideon took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves. Rip helped his mother out the car and onto her crutches, taking Jonas’ hand and wrapping his arm around Gideon before they started into the house.

“Mary,” Moira Queen appeared at the door, “You look wonderful. Even in plaster.”

Mary gave a smile, “Well it’s a distinctive look.”

Laughing Moira air kissed her cheek before turning to the others, “Rip, Jonas, it’s a pleasure to see you both again and…”

“Gideon Ryder,” she introduced herself before Rip could.

Moira nodded, a tiny grimace on her face seeing Rip’s arm around Gideon’s waist, “Come in.”

As they started in Mary turned to Gideon, “Ignore her. She’s just bitter that Oliver fell in love with Felicity and not one of her socialite friends’ daughters. She’s been trying to set up Michael for the last few years.”

They followed Moira out to the back garden which Gideon was stunned by. It was five times the size of Rip’s, coloured lights were strung up around the perimeter while the guests mingled.

“Jonas,” William appeared suddenly, “Come on, Dad let me set up my console in the living room.”

Jonas turned to Rip who nodded and the two boys disappeared talking a mile a minute.

“Gillian is over there. I’ll see you both later,” Mary squeezed Gideon’s hand before she headed over to a table where another woman was sitting.

“One of mother’s book club,” Rip whispered in her ear, “As you can probably guess, they rarely discuss books.”

Gideon laughed.

“Come on,” Rip wrapped his arm around her, “Let’s go say hello to our host.”

Walking over to the man standing at the grill, Gideon felt a little nervous as this was the first friend of Rip’s she was meeting.

“Rip,” Oliver greeted him, “Glad you all made it.”

“Jonas would never have forgiven me,” Rip replied before he turned slightly, “I want you to meet…”

“Gideon!!!” the stunned cry made them turn to see Felicity Smoak marching towards them a huge grin on her face.

“You two know each other?” Oliver asked as Rip shrugged confused.

Gideon laughed as she hugged the other woman, “We met when I spent a semester at MIT.”

“It’s so amazing to see you,” Felicity said, “Come and get a drink, we need to catch up.”

Smiling at Rip, Gideon happily followed Felicity to the bar before they found a seat by the pool.

“When Jonas said that his dad’s new girlfriend was called Gideon,” Felicity said, “I thought it might be you because it’s not the most common name.”

Gideon shrugged, “I’m the only one I know.”

Felicity laughed before asking, “How did you meet Rip?”

Gideon quickly gave her the story of the cruise, helping Rip and how she’d fallen for him.

“That’s a really great story,” Felicity sighed, “Much better than mine.”

“Which is?” Gideon asked intrigued.

Waving her hand, “I got a job at Queen Consolidated, working in their IT department. One day Oliver appeared because he had broken his laptop and needed it fixed quickly. After that anytime he needed something IT related, he called me.” Felicity smiled thinking back, “Then came the day he needed help during a presentation to set up the equipment which I had explained to him in great detail so he should have known how to use. Afterwards he offered to buy me dinner as an apology.” Sighing she continued, “I was a little unsure considering his reputation, but I am so glad I did.”

Gideon caught her friend’s hand and looked at the diamond ring she was wearing, “I can see that.”

Rip slipped up behind Gideon who was standing looking at the view while Felicity had to attend to some other guests. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“I thought I wasn’t to leave your side?” he murmured in her ear.

Gideon chuckled, “I forgive you since I was able to catch up with Felicity.”

Rip laughed softly, “Are you hungry? Oliver assures me he’s cooked the burgers fully.”

Nodding Gideon took his hand and they walked over to the food table, Rip handed her a plate and advised what to avoid. Once they had their food, they found a table in the corner to eat. Not realising they were being watched.

“So,” Moira sat beside Mary, “Rip is dating finally. You must be pleased.”

Mary nodded as she watched her son smile at his girlfriend, “I am.”

“Even though they met on a couples cruise,” Moira said before asking, “Doesn’t that seem a little odd?”

Mary turned to the other woman, “It’s actually a funny story. Besides, Moira,” Mary smiled slightly, “I made sure I knew who was working with my son before there was any indication of romance.”

Moira shrugged, “Did you expect this to happen?”

“No,” Mary mused, “But I hoped when Eve told me about how well they were getting along that it might blossom.”

“And the fact she is not in the same social circle?”

“Your dislike of the fact Oliver fell for the IT girl,” Mary noted, “Is not something I agree with. Gideon is extremely smart, kind, is good to Jonas and the best thing that has happened to Michael in a long time.”

Moira frowned but Mary stopped her speaking.

“If you stopped actively disliking the girl,” Mary told her, “I think you would realise just how amazing Felicity is and how lucky you are that Oliver fell in love with her. That girl,” Mary continued before Moira could say anything, “Has changed Oliver for the better. He never would have stepped up as a father to William before her. Stop wishing for something you didn’t get and appreciate what you did.”

*********************************************

Gideon cuddled into Rip’s arms as she woke on the last day of their two weeks. With Jonas no longer at camp, they had spent the week going to the zoo, the water park, the carnival, and other activities with him meeting up with Oliver, Felicity and William several times as well.

“I’m going to miss this,” she murmured softly as Rip pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“This is just the last day of our vacation, it isn’t the last day we’re together,” Rip said before moving so she would look at him, “Is it?”

Gideon shook her head, “I don’t want it to be, but we live in different cities and I have to go to work.”

“Are you sure?” Rip moaned, “You can’t take another few weeks’ off?”

Chuckling at his teasing pout, Gideon kissed him, “I can’t, my contract starts on Monday.”

Rip rested his forehead against hers, “We’ll work something out.”

She kissed him, “We will.”

“I was thinking,” Rip said, “We drop Mother and Jonas off at the house then I’ll drive you back to your flat.”

“You don’t have to,” Gideon whispered.

He nodded, “Yes, I do. If we’re going to work this as a long-distance relationship, then I want to make sure I see you as much as possible.”

Gideon smiled.

They lay together for a while until the noise nearby announced Jonas was up, Rip kissed her and slid out of bed.

“Last day here,” Rip told her, “I have to make our final day big breakfast.”

“Don’t tell me,” she chuckled, “It’s a tradition.”

Gideon sat in the car staring out the window as the other occupants talked or sang along with the radio. She was trying not to focus on the fact that she had no idea how long it would be before she would see Rip again after he dropped her off at her flat.

She jumped slightly when the car made a sharp turn into a driveway and stared in surprise at the house they were parking at. It was a normal red brick two story detached house with a neat front garden surrounded by a fence, completely different from where they’d spent the past two weeks.

“Okay,” Rip said, “Home sweet home.”

Gideon looked at him confused.

“What?” Rip asked as they got out the car.

“I just…” Gideon hesitated, “After the Beach House was expecting something a little different.”

Rip chuckled, “Well, I prefer not to have to sprint to catch Jonas if he’s dodging his bath. Besides for just the two of us, this is more than big enough.”

“Daddy,” Jonas called, “You have to open the door.”

Shaking his head at his son’s impatience Rip headed to unlock the front door leaving Gideon with Mary.

“I bought the Beach House not long after I took in Michael,” she told Gideon, “We rent it out whenever we don’t use it.”

Gideon bit her lip, “I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mary laughed, “When I first started the company, I lived in a one-bedroom flat. I enjoy being able to be extravagant for the people I love. As you can see though Michael has never let it go to his head, he remembers what life was like without money. He knows that hard work is what gave us everything we have, and he has made sure Jonas knows this too.”

Gideon nodded, “I enjoyed the time I spent with you, Mary. You’re exactly how I always imagine my mother would be.”

Wrapping one arm around Gideon, Mary whispered, “I loved getting to know you too.”

Letting the younger woman go, Mary manoeuvred herself onto her crutches and started to the house.

Rip put his mother’s bag down in her room before finding Jonas in his bedroom.

“I am going to take Gideon home,” Rip told his son, “And I will be back tomorrow. Okay?”

Jonas nodded.

“You’ll take care of your grandma for me?” Rip asked.

“I will,” Jonas promised.

Rip smiled and hugged him, “I am so lucky to have you. Do you know that?”

Jonas beamed as he hugged Rip back, “I love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too,” Rip kissed his son’s hair before letting him go, “I have to go.”

He took a few steps out the room and found Jonas at his side who grinned, “I want to say bye to Gideon.”

Watching his son skip ahead to where his girlfriend stood by the car, Rip smiled as Jonas hugged Gideon. It was something he had worried about the moment he realised that he was falling for Gideon, that Jonas wouldn’t like her but thankfully he did.

Jonas scampered back to the house and waved them goodbye as Rip started the car out of the driveway.

They drove in silence with the radio playing and Rip was surprised how comfortable it was. He could always just sit in silence with Miranda, they didn’t need to fill it in any way and, when he lost her, Rip never thought he’d find anyone he’d feel this way with again.

Gideon turned to him and smiled, before she returned to looking out the window enjoying the music.

Rip smiled to himself and continued to drive.

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #jonas hunter #mary xavier #arrow #oliver queen #felicity smoak #timeship #ripfic #fluff #AU

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m-iasma · 4 years

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☾ ⁘ HAUNTober o6 & o7 ⁖ fog & haunted ! words: 1,260

We Ishgardians pride ourselves on our faith so much that we allow ourselves to be governed by it. We walk with Halone, guided by Her will, eager to sate Her appetite for devotion. We command armies in Her name and pen our laws as Her word. But perhaps the hunger for allegiance is our own, and our knees bend not to that of the Fury but to those who claim are touched by Her heavenly light. I know not what I believe nor do I claim to understand the inner workings of such a complex web. One thing I do know, however, is that questioning the Church can leave one as defenseless as a common housefly, and often times there is a spider lurking just out of sight, waiting for one to stick.

Grandmother Prudence was suspected on many occasions of concealing eight legs beneath her petticoats, always watching those closest to her with just as many eyes. She lived and died by the Word, never missing a mass or taking Halone's name in vain, and I dreaded spending the summers at her manor for fear of her. It was a silly fright for a little girl to have, to be scared of her own grandmother, but looking back, perhaps it wasn't after all. Grandmother had few acquaintances and even fewer friends, and I found it peculiar how only one or two ever really stuck around. It wasn't just that they would lose contact with Grandmother: they would simply disappear. I questioned Mother about it once, and she shook her head with a firmness I wouldn't understand until I was much older.

I was eleven when the mystery began to unfold. Grandmother sat upon the canopied bed, tucking me in with her cold and veiny hands, careful not to catch her clawed fingers on the embroidered duvet. Her lips were a deep shade of pomegranate, and I remember watching with a morbid fascination as she spoke, eyes fixated on her cracked and wrinkled smile. "Would you fancy a story before bed?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but like most things Grandmother had to offer, it seemed soured. I could only muster a nod of my head.

"Splendid!" she clapped her hands together before wrapping them around my own. Her touch was icy, and I did my best not to shudder lest she scold me.

"Let's see. Ah, yes. Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful and kind woman with hair of auburn and eyes that rivaled the sun. She lived for Ishgard and the Church and the Fury, as all beautiful and kind women should, and she was admired by many. Men flocked from all corners of the See to ask for her hand in marriage. Merchants, tradesmen, knights: they professed their love for her one by one by one, but none of them seemed the right fit. That is, until only one man remained."

Grandmother squeezed my hands, and I could feel her nails digging into my skin. I wanted to cry out and pull away, but she only squeezed harder as she smiled, her teeth only just visible between her lips.

"This man was what we call a heretic, dear. A foul, degenerate undeserving of the woman's love. He had denounced Halone," Grandmother inhaled sharply, her expression twisting to one of pure disgust, "Denounced our faith. And though the woman should have sent him away, she fell madly in love with him and thus became his betrothed. But my child, while Halone isn't called the Fury for naught, it is man who often delivers Her judgment and delivered they did. The men did as all fine Ishgardian citizens should do and ran directly to the Church. They told the Bishops of the woman and her heretic, and thus divine justice was sentenced upon them both."

"Grandmother, I don't like this st-"

"Silence!" she commanded, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes burned with a rage I had not yet seen before. I could feel her nails drawing blood from my hands, but I swallowed hard, fearful of angering her again.

"On the day of their wedding, the city gathered at the steps of the Church and awaited their arrival. But they waited not with the intent to celebrate their nuptials but to condemn them. As they approached the cathedral, they were taken prisoner and made to kneel before the beloved statue of Halone side by side. Hands bound behind their backs and necks held firmly against our Fury's feet, they were sentenced to death. The last thing the woman saw of her beloved was the splitting of his neck as the executioner swung fast his ax, and she had naught but a moment to scream out before her end followed. When the world grows dark and the moon burns bright, you can sometimes see the heretic's bride wandering the woods, carrying the bloodied ax that claimed her life, calling out for her love."

My eyes welled with tears as her expression warped once more into that of a satisfied smile.

"The moral of this gruesome story, dear, is that while some things in life may seem tempting, you must never steer from the loving gaze of Halone. The Goddess and our Church are ever watchful of Their kingdom, and there will always be someone watching should the desire to sin sour your soul. And my love, I will always be watching you. You best behave."

Her satisfaction amplified as I nodded, tears running down my cheeks. She patted my knee before letting the smile disappear once more into her usual scowl before leaving the bedroom, sure to suffocate the candles before shutting the heavy wooden door behind her. The room was dark, and I felt so very alone, and I cried myself to sleep that night, plagued by nightmares.

The next morning, I wrote to Mother and told her of what happened. It wasn't more than a few days before she came to retrieve me, and I could hear her and Grandmother in the tea room exchanging heated words. I was never made to spend the summer at Grandmother's manor again, and the next time I saw her was the eve of her funeral. She was smug and cold even in death.

We never really want to accept that our innocence is a fragile and malleable thing, and I found it difficult to shake the feeling of dread that loomed over me well into adulthood. I was wary of everyone and everything, terrified that even the most mundane of things could land my neck on the chopping block, mocked by the eyes of the Fury. I feared that Grandmother herself would be the one to sign the warrant seeing as how she had done it many times before and many more after, the few friends she had always seemingly concealing the secret of being a heretic themselves. Mother had done a wonderful job of shielding me from the horrors of Ishgard, but I often wonder if perhaps her mercy had been more of a hindrance, if always knowing the truth would have been a kinder fate than the one I was given.

As I grew older, the laws of the land warped and changed and many things that were once taboo and unholy became forgivable offenses, and my fear lessened with each and every day, but my Grandmother's words always rang in the back my head: "I will always be watching you." And sometimes, still to this day, I believe she always is.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv rp #hauntober #au #prompt #piper fairfield

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xxsovereignsarayaxx · 4 years

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A King Needs His Queen - The Originals

“True love is like playing chess the King may be the most important piece on the board however the Queen is the most powerful and dangerous as she performs more moves than any other. The Queen will always protect her King.” Word Count: 5054 Warnings: None Authors Note: For those who have read Elizabeth Mikealson - What If? Here is the original origins for Elizabeth. I’ve given this a lot of editing to make it worth the read and I wanted to give everyone an alternate view point. I hope you like it. I have up to chapter 4 written so I’ll be posting a new chapter everyday until that point. For those who enjoy my ‘Lizzie-Lijah’ fanfic don’t worry I am in the process of writing a new chapter. If you want to be tagged in this series please let me know <3

True love is like playing chess. The King may be the most important piece on the board however the Queen is the most powerful, most dangerous as she performs more moves than any other. The Queen will always protect her King.

Being the wife to Niklaus Mikaelson was never an easy task, he was impulsive, rash, a temper which has a dangerously short fuse, competitive and many other things but the one thing he had going for him was a lovely irresistible puppy face. But one of the one things we loved nothing more was to sit back and have an intense game of chess why you may ask? Chess is a war game and currently we the Mikaelson family were stuck in the middle of one war between the witches, werewolves and vampires. And myself my husband and the rest of our family were not welcomed with open arms when we first arrived back in New Orleans. It didn't quite help due to the fact Niklaus was a hybrid and the very large statement he insisted on making when we returned home. I understood he was upset that Marcellus had continued Nik's empire without him but we were all under the illusion that he was dead, burned to ash. But the little warrior had survived the attack made by Mikael at the Opera House in 1919, I remember the events vividly and it still haunts me to this day the terror I had felt when I thought my family was going to die but we escaped by the skin of our teeth, Nik carried Rebekah out onto the street while I had received aid from Elijah we watched as the Opera building had lit up the cities dark evening night sky and from that moment we fled for our lives together as a family. After that dreadful night I was and never will be afraid of whatever enemy I will stand in front of because I know who stands behind me. Who will protect me as I will protect them. I promised Nik he would get his empire back at whatever cost because I too also shared his personality traits.

I remember when first stepped foot in New Orleans back in the 1800's we had made a name for ourselves and ended up getting very cozy with the Governor we ended up staying at his residence, it was a delightful place very elegant but Rebekah who I love so dear got a little too involved with Emil, the son of the Governor and one particular day Niklaus had killed him, another one of her lovers had bit the dust or should I say had a snapped neck, it wasn't the first time and surely wouldn't be the last but I did feel sorry for my sister-in-law at this rate she would never be able to have a suitor to settle down with if Nik carried on being the over-protective brother and so we attended the funeral of Emil it was a hard day for his remaining family as well as Rebekah I held her so close as she wept of my shoulder, her sorrows broke my heart. But Niklaus had really chosen the worst time to remove the lover from existence as we was the height of the summer season and I was sweating so profoundly in my dress. I encouraged Rebekah to start heading back to our temporary lodgings as I guided her down a quite dirt road accompanied by my husband and Elijah to see a young boy no more then 6 years old being whipped by a man on horse back.��

The cries of the young boy tugged on my hearts strings as I too wanted the chance to bare a child with my husband but because we were vampires we could not procreate but we sure as hell loved to try. But back to the matter at hand turns out we was not burying the only child of the Governor, it had turned out he had another son from a mother to whom he owned. I walked arm in arm with my husband, Rebekah on my other side, but as the whipping of the boy intensified so did the poor screams that left the child's mouth, Nik had ground to a halt and myself and his sister and brother also stopped in our tracks the funeral that was going on ahead of us continued without us. Niklaus just stood there and stared at the boy, but to be fair we all did, how anybody was able to treat a child to the manner were the real monsters of this world. The boy fell to his knees and took hold of one of the nearby apples that had fallen from one of the many apple trees and threw it with all his might at his attacker, the boy gave a look of courage as he stood up for himself panting because of his beating, without me noticing Nik had left our sides and started to move closer and closer to the situation in front of us. Elijah stood in complete silence while I continued to hold Rebekah and dried the tears that were flowing down her beautiful face.

The attacker on horseback and re-composed himself and began swinging his whip around for another session when Nik had interfered and grabbed another apple that was left on the floor and threw it with such force the man fell down dead from his horse, unfazed by what had happened. He then strode other to the boy who was on the dusty ground, as he fallen to his knees in pure agony.

"What is your name?" Niklaus asked the boy. The boy looked shocked but not frightened with Nik's presence panting he replied.

"Don't got one, Momma wouldn't name me till I turned 10 case the fever took me. Then it took her." I un-linked my arms with Rebekah and left her in the care of her brother, I picked up my skirt and made my way over to the two males who were talking, I had a small smile on my face as I re-joined my husband and softly held on to his arm. The three of us just stood quietly when I carefully knelt down in front of the boy.

"Your a survivor, and survivors need names don't they Nik?" I said softly.

"Indeed they do" Niklaus replied as he also crouched down to join me.

"How about Marcellus?" Nik added.

"Marcellus?" The boy asked while he looked at the pair of us.

I nodded gently "It comes from Mars, the god of war and it means little warrior" I say to him.

I offer a hand to Marcellus and Niklaus held mine as we helped each other back to our feet, I dust myself down from the dirt that had collected while I was knelt on the ground. I turned my head back to Rebekah and Elijah who stood far back shock on their faces, Niklaus was acting very different too how he had been acting days well years prior instead of being reckless and indulging on the humans he was showing compassion.

Nik had decided to take Marcellus under his wing, I could tell that Nik saw himself in the boy as he too was beaten when he was a child. Niklaus was never fond to talk about his life when he was child and I was never one to push him, but the fragments I was told were from his siblings, I had been married to Niklaus for nearly 300 years, so I understood my husband very well to say the least.

During the 1500's I was the handmaiden to Anne Boleyn the second wife to Henry VIII, I was the handmaiden of Catherine of Aragon but after the divorce I was re-assigned to Lady Anne. Even though I was just her handmaiden we were very close. In April 1536 I became incredibly ill, I had been diagnosed with dysentery by the castle doctor. Days had passed I had taken a turn for the worst and I was on my death bed, it wasn't until then Lady Anne revealed her biggest secret. She in fact was a vampire and saved my life by turning me, a gruesome act really being fed the blood of a vampire and then the fastest act to the process done I had my neck snapped, it was quick and clean and that was it I was turned into one of her kind.

I was forever grateful that she saved my life but days after she was arrested and sent to the Tower of London with some people saying she was involved in witchcraft as I had made a remarkable recovery. Funny really they were right in the supernatural sense just wrong species.

After Anne was beheaded Henry had re-married, during that time was how I was introduced to the Mikaelson family a loving family a bit dysfunctional but loving non the less. I had grown close to them and being and a new vampire I had struggled with my blood lust, the castle being a busy place food was no shortage but my methods for feeding were not discrete at the best of times and I was sure to be found out, it was then I was taken into the care of the Niklaus and he siblings. At first we didn't see eye to eye and I spent my days with Rebekah or locked away as I hated what I had become. After moving around from place for years on end me and Nik grew closer and he personally taught me the perks of being a vampire, he explained that his family were the first vampires ever created, I was fascinated and was falling for him hard. But turns out Niklaus had fell for me the day he had met me and shortly after we was wed.

And that was how I married a Original vampire.

Over the course of my long life I have come to believe we are bound forever to those with whom we share blood or by name. And while we may not choose our family, that bond can be our greatest strength or our deepest regret. This is the unfortunate truth that has been my downfall for as long as I can re-call . And yet I'm starting to tell you my story as I lay desiccated by a witch in a coffin being hauled around the country in whatever decade this may be. While my so called husband flaunts around doing whatever he pleases. Being angry with him was the understatement of the century, I was livid and when I get out of this god-forsaken box I will rain hell on him. I admit I was no Original but I sure was stronger then the average vampire thanks to a very good witch friend of mine who cast a spell to make me just as strong as my husband and his siblings. I would not die from a stake to the heart and I could be daggered just like Niklaus had done to his brothers Finn and Kol. But as I lay here unable to help my remaining family I was forced to lay and wait for my time to rise once more to wreck havoc with my husband.

Present Day

The night is still young in the French Quarter of New Orleans, humans party in the streets and the soothing sound of jazz plays throughout the streets, laughter and enjoyment heard by all and yet Niklaus is stood on a balcony over-seeing the festivities when Elijah appears next to him out of nowhere.

"Evening Elijah" Niklaus greets his brother.

"Niklaus" Elijah responds bluntly.

"What an entirely un-welcomed surprise" Niklaus says with sarcasm.

"And what an entirely un-surpising welcome but do tell me Niklaus how long do you intend to keep Elizabeth confined to her coffin?" Elijah asks.

"Elizabeth will stay put until I say so" Niklaus says with a sneer.

"She has been confined for nearly 100 years, you are meant to be her husband Niklaus, but we have other matters to discuss, come with me" Elijah says.

Niklaus takes a step forward towards his brother and looks him dead in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Elizabeth will be kept safe and hidden until I find out who is conspiring against me, against this family"

Elijah just stands there and straightens his tie "I believe I just found that out for you, but I warn you Niklaus once Elizabeth is freed she will not be pleased" Elijah warned.

And with that the two originals leave the balcony and through the busy streets of New Orleans to arrive at a cemetery, they head inside to a tomb to see some witches and another young girl present.

"No! It is impossible." Klaus had said shocked by what he saw in front of him.

To which Elijah replied "I said the same thing myself"

The two originals stood in front of young werewolf called Hayley to whom was pregnant with a child, Niklaus being the father to said baby. So when Elijah had warned before that Elizabeth would not be pleased with the news he was not wrong.

"This is a lie! You are all lying. Vampires cannot procreate!" Niklaus had shouted to everyone in the tomb.

"We are aware that vampires cannot, what I would like to know is why you would betray your wife, you wife Niklaus! The one woman who always stood next to you in whatever plans you had devised. This will be like killing her when she finds out!" Elijah ranted at his brother.

Hayley looked at the two males, dumbfounded.

"But werewolves can, magic made you a vampire, but you were born a werewolf. You're the original hybrid, the first of your kind. And this pregnancy is one of nature's loopholes" The witch stood next to Hayley admitted.

"You've been with someone else, admit it!" Niklaus had turned and screamed at Hayley, he was about to take a step forward to be held back by his brother.

"Hey! I've spent days held captive in a freaking alligator bayou because they think that I'm carrying some magical miracle baby. Don't you think I would've fessed up if it wasn't yours" Hayley shouted back looking the hybrid square in the eyes.

"My sister gave her life to perform the spell she needed to confirm this pregnancy. Because of Jane-Anne's sacrifice, the lives of this girl and her baby are now controlled by us. We can keep them safe. Or we can kill them. If you don't help us take down Marcel, so help me Hayley won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress." The witch shouted.

"Wait? What?" Hayley stuttered.

"Enough of this nonsense, if you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I'll do it myself" Elijah said sternly. "No we can't not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow, and there are rules" The witch continued. Elijah looks over to his brother, who looks like his blood is boiling with rage.

"How dare you command me? Threaten me, with what you wrongfully perceive to be my weakness. This is a pathetic deception. I will not hear any more lies!" Niklaus rants.

"Niklaus! Listen!" Elijah shouts to his brother, after that silence fills the tomb, and the soft heartbeat of the baby that resides within Hayley can be heard. Niklaus looks at Hayley, towards the witches and then looks at his brother, he swallows and then clears his throat.

"Kill her and the baby" He says bluntly and turns to leave the cemetery into the night.

Elijah runs and catches up to his brother who had taken to running through the streets of the French Quarter, he grabs his brother. "Niklaus please" He says.

"It's a trick Elijah" Niklaus replies still angry with the news.

"No, brother its a consequence to your actions while Elizabeth has been absent from us but also a gift, its your chance, its our chance" Elijah starts.

"To what?" Niklaus interrupts. "To start over brother, take back everything we lost have lost, everything that was taken from us. Our parents came to despise us. Our family was ruined... We was ruined I mean for heavens sake you made a witch cast a desiccation spell on your wife and stored her in a box for the past 100 years. All you and Elizabeth have ever wanted was a family, all that we ever wanted was a family" Elijah told his brother.

"I will not be manipulated" Niklaus growls and turns away but Elijah vamp-speeds over to block his path not allowing his brother to run any further.

"So they are manipulating you. So what? With them, this girl and her child - your child might I add live" Elijah says trying to reason with his brother.

"I'm going to kill every last one of them" Niklaus threatens and shoves Elijah and turns away in the opposite direction but Elijah once again speeds over to block his brother once more.

"And then what? Then you return to Mystic Falls to resume your life without your wife as the hated one, as the evil hybrid? Free your wife or is it so important to you that people quake with fear at the sound of your name?" Elijah continues.

"People quake with fear because I have the power to make them afraid. What will this child offer me? Will it guarantee me power?" Niklaus argues.

"Family is power! Niklaus. Love, loyalty that's power, this is what you swore to another one thousand years ago, what you swore to Elizabeth almost 500 years ago, before life tore away what little humanity you had left, before ego, before anger, before paranoia created this person to keep their wife sealed away, someone I can barely even recognize as my own brother This is us! The Original family and we remain together always and forever. I am asking you to stay here, free Elizabeth from her slumber and I will help you, stand by you. I will be your brother. We will build a home here together. So save this girl. Save your child." Elijah pleads.

Elijah places a hand on Niklaus' shoulder, were his brother brings his own hand to Elijah's neck it was their own brotherly gesture, a sign where they showed each other how much they cared and loved one another. They look at each other and Niklaus just whispers

"No" and walks away leaving Elijah standing in the street.

Walking into New Orleans Elijah knew where his brother kept his wife hidden, he knew that the only person who stood a chance to get his brother to see reason would be Elizabeth, yes it would be dangerous for the werewolf, but in order to save the child, and his brother Elizabeth needed to be woken from her century long sleep. Finally arriving to where the coffin was stored he lifts the lid to see his sister in law peacefully asleep, he gently lifts her out and holds her tightly to his chest. There was a time before where feelings for Elizabeth were deep in his heart, but after she fell for his brother she was no longer seen as a love interest and was only seen as family, and Elijah being the noble family man that he is, he had swore to protect her as well.

Elijah had made his way back to the tomb where Hayley and the witches were talking. Elizabeth still in his arms he entered the tomb to just have everyone look at him as he interrupted a conversation.

"She can't, I'm not entirely sure I can, but the woman in my arms is our best bet. But now that your coven has drawn ire. I have a question, what prevents my brother from murdering you instead of cooperating?" Elijah asks with a smirk on his face.

"Who is the woman?" One of the witches ask.

"This here is Elizabeth Mikealson, Niklaus' wife and the only force I believe that can get him into submission. Unless you have a better alternative?" Elijah responds.

One of the witches takes a needle, and holds it up to Elijah and sticks the needle into her hand, pricking the skin drawing a drop of blood.

"Ow!" Hayley yelps and there is blood on her hand in the exact place where the witch had hurt herself.

"Hey what the hell!" Hayley shouted.

"The spell my sister performed, the one that got her killed? It wasn't just to confirm the pregnancy. It linked me to Hayley. So anything happens to me, happens to her which means her life in my hands. Klaus may not care about his own child, but its very clear what it already means to you. If I have to hurt Hayley, or worse to ensure that I have your attention, I will" The witch threatened.

Elijah looks at the witch with a smirk on his face. "You would dare threaten an Original?" He asked.

"I have nothing to lose" The witch replies and with that one sentence the smile was wiped of his face. He takes a few steps closer to the witches, Elizabeth still in his arms.

"You have until midnight to get Klaus to change his mind" The witch threatens once more.

"You have until midnight to awaken Elizabeth" Elijah responded gently placing his sister in law on the ground and left the tomb.

After the chanting of a spell cast by the witches I was awoken, the grey that once covered my skin slowly drained away, my eyes start to flutter open and my crystal blue eyes are met with the world. I slowly get up and runs a hand through my long black raven hair.

"Where am I?" I ask the crowd of witches.

"Your in New Orleans, Elijah wants you to find him its regarding your husband" A witch starts.

"My husband is a dead man walking, do you know what it is like to be kept in a coffin for a century?" I snap and with that I left the tomb, I was hungry and if I didn't get blood soon I would do some serious damage to something or someone. My long white dress drags along the floor, while I walked barefoot the cool concrete was welcomed to try and damper my fiery temper that was ever growing by the minute.

As I walked out of the cemetery I spotted a elderly couple, I approached them with a small smile and looked the man in the eyes.

"Don't be afraid" I said. And with that the veins under my eyes grew visible and my fangs bulged through my gums, as I pierced the neck of the elderly woman in front of me, her blood followed into my mouth and down my gullet I was so hungry but I was never a killer when I was feeding, I gently released from her and bit into my own wrist for her to drink my blood to heal her wound. I did the exact same with the man and I was feeling much better, I compelled them to forget me and wished them a safe journey home. It was now time to find my brother in law.

As I walked through the streets I heard loud music playing and the sound led me to a courtyard, I remembered this courtyard from years before this was our home but before I could enter I was whisked away up onto a balcony, from up here I could see vampires drinking and dancing the night away. Until I noticed one vampire in particular Marcellus the very boy we had raised ourselves, but also the very boy we all thought had died in 1919 all thanks to my twisted father in law. After what had happened I was shoved in a box for the next 100 or so years to rot.

"Elizabeth, I trust you found yourself here ok?" Elijah asked me.

"I did thank you brother, but enough small talk where is he Elijah? Where is Niklaus? Where is he so I can rip his heart out" I shouted

"Hush now my dear, we must watch" Elijah said calmly as he gestured down to the scene which was unfolding down below us.

"Hey man, where'd you run off to? Someones put you in a mood. What can I do?" Marcellus asked my husband.

"What you can do is tell me what this thing is that you have with the witches" Niklaus replied in a low voice, a voice he would use when he was displeased.

"We're back to that" Marcellus said in a bored flat tone" To which all my husband had said

"Yes, were back to that" Marcellus had taken a step towards Niklaus with his arms wide open

"You know I owe you everything I got, but I'm afraid I have to draw the line on this one. This is my business. I control the witches in my town. Let's just leave it at that" Marcellus had said.

And I felt outraged all of us were responsible for what he had here today, it wasn't his town! The town belonged to the Mikealson's not Marcullus Geraed.

"Your town?" I heard my husband shout.

"Damm straight" He replied.

I was again angry with the situation to which was in front of me, I gripped the railing and glared down at the vampires beneath me and Elijah, I felt a soothing hand run circles on my back and I was starting to feel calmer.

"Part of me is debating to go down there and start ripping out hearts, and tearing of heads Elijah" I hissed at him.

"I know, but its not time for you to reveal yourself just yet." He told me, still rubbing my back.

"That's funny, because when I left 100 years ago, you were just a pathetic little scrapper still trembling from the lashes of the whips of those who would keep you down, and now look at you master of your own domain, prince of the city. I'd like to know how" Niklaus boosted.

The music that was playing in the courtyard had stopped playing and all that could be heard now was the two vampires trying to have it off and the slow breathing from everybody else.

"Why? Jealous? Hey man I get it. Three hundred years ago, you helped build a backwater penal colony into something. You and your family started it, but then you all left, actually, you ran from it. I saw it through. Look around. Vampires rule this city now. I got rid of the werewolves. I even found a way to shut down the witches. The blood never stops flowing and the party never ends. You wanna pass on through? You wanna stay a while? Great. What's mine is yours, but it is mine. My home, my family, my rules." Marcellus says loud and proudly.

But he was down right wrong, this was our home and our family but the one thing that was certain is that everyone in my family played by my rules. "And if someone breaks those rules?" Niklaus asks.

"They die. Mercy is for the weak, You and Elizabeth taught me that, too. And I am not the prince of the Quarter, friend. I'm the king! Show me some respect" Marcellus shouted.

All is silent, down below us all is quite no one moved and when I turned to look at my brother he just looked on, his jawline tense and he didn't move a muscle. The wind had picked up a little and blew my hair around a little, as I brushed some behind my right ear I see my husband rush forwards to one of the other vampires that are present at the party, he bites him viciously in the neck and I was confused to as why, Nik was a vampire so biting another vampire was pointless...Unless he broke his cure that he had vowed to do years ago.

If that was the case my husband was what they call a hybrid, a being that had vampire and werewolf blood run through his veins and venom in his fangs, he truly was a force of nature. My thoughts were interrupted when Nik had said "Your friend will be dead by the weekend, which means I've broken one of your rules. And yet I cannot be killed. I am immortal. Who has the power friend?" My husband just stands in front of Marcellus, no more words are exchanged, Nik smiles at the crowd turns and leaves.

Myself and Elijah were still stood on the balcony as we watched Nik leave the mess he had caused. "So he finally broke his curse?" I ask him. Elijah nodded at me

"That he did, but that story is better told another day, come lets get you in the warm and cleaned up. We can worry about what Niklaus is doing tomorrow" Elijah held out his arm and led me to a hotel to where he had been staying and ran me a warm bath. I laid back in the large tub allowing the hot water to soothe my body, turns out being in a coffin for 100 years leads to more aches and pains then you can imagine. As I got out of the tub I wrapped a towel around my body, while I had been getting cleaned up Elijah had been on the phone talking to my dear sweet sister Rebekah. I quickly got changed into the spare clothes Elijah had kindly left out for me. After getting dressed, I re-joined Elijah to where he now ended his call. "How about getting some sleep my dear? It's been an eventful few hours for you" Elijah suggested. I looked at him but I didn't wish to pry, I did feel exhausted even though I have been asleep for the past century, I complied with him and padded over and gave Elijah a long hug and kiss on the cheek. Once we had broken the hug, Elijah had pulled me back to kiss my forehead.

"Niklaus does love you, Elizabeth always and forever"

#the originals #klaus #klaus mikaelson #Niklaus Mikealson #klaus x original character #original character #elijah mikealson #mentions of elijah #marcel gerard #vampire diaries #fanfiction #fandom #vampire #original vampire #hybrid

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introtopoetrydrk · 3 years

Text

Chenyang Di

Emily Dickinson Ourselves Were Wed One Summer Dear Poem 631 Ourselves were wed one summer dear Your Vision was in June And when Your little Lifetime failed, I wearied too of mine

And overtaken in the Dark Where You had put me down By Some one carrying a Light I too received the Sign.

‘Tis true Our Futures different lay Your Cottage faced the sun While Oceans and the North must be On every side of mine

‘Tis true, Your Garden led the Bloom, For mine in Frosts was sown And yet, one Summer, we were Queens But You were crowned in June

The reason that I choose this poem is the title of this poem is gentle and warm, like led me into a good memory.The first two paragraphs show Dickinson's unswerving love for love, but the latter two paragraphs are quite different.This poem seem simple, but it has a deep flavor

#PoetryWithDrK #123Dickinson #submission

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mostweakhamlets · 4 years

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Spain, 1918 (Chapter 1)

This is the fic that is being posted on my Patreon on tier two among other stories. If you would like to access updates first and read ahead, then you can do so for $3 a month! There will be weekly updates on Patreon, but the entire fic will end up here and on my AO3.

Summary: The second, deadly wave of the Spanish Flu hits Europe in the summer of 1918, and it was not mentioned in the memo Pestilence sent to Above and Below. The world is trying to cope with the Great War and the new pandemic while Heaven and Hell are overcrowded and behind on getting new souls admitted. Aziraphale and Crowley take it upon themselves to try to find the rogue Horseman.

An establish marriage fic that leans more towards Book!Omens and features Crowley disguised as a nurse and Aziraphale disguised as a priest.

“The Americans are calling it the Spanish flu now,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley shook his head. He raised his glass to his lips and drank the harsh wine with a sneer. He didn’t know why they had been drinking all night (or, rather why he had been drinking all evening as Aziraphale’s first glass was mostly untouched). The wine wasn’t very good—it was a cheap red from one of the only markets still open when they returned from their journies to Above and Below that evening.

There was anxiety filling the bookshop. While Aziraphale had voiced how pleased he was with the lack of customers, he was visibly unsettled to see so few people on the London streets. The city he had always known to be bustling with energy was growing quieter and quieter in the midst of the panic spreading across the globe.

Crowley had hoped to learn more about the pandemic when he met with Beelzebub. He hoped to bring back news to Aziraphale to try to put an end to the nervous hair-twisting and foot-tapping (while he ignored his own nervous habits). But Beelzebub looked tired for the first time since the plague and said that there was nothing they knew. They pushed a new assignment at Crowley and told him to get back on Earth. Now, Crowley waited for the right time to tell Aziraphale about what the manila folder said.

“And what do we make of that?” Crowley mumbled.

“Humans don’t know what’s going on. They don’t know how their own homes are being affected.”

“The ones at war are censoring the newspapers,” Crowley said. “For morale or something. That’s what my lot said. They asked if I was responsible for it.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I took credit for it.”

“Of course.”

“They don’t have time to check if I actually did. They’re busier than usual—”

“So is Heaven.”

“With all the new people and trying to find—”

“To find Pestilence.”

Aziraphale took a sip of wine, cringed at the taste, and sat his glass on the table. It wasn’t the fine vintage he was used to drinking, but it was going to have to do. Everyone was tightening their belts for the sake of the commotion in Germany, and it only felt fair that Aziraphale do the same. Crowley had yet to follow suit.

“At least War is behaving—well, as much as War can behave,” Crowley said. “Might be the war of the century, but at least she’s not going rogue and causing a,” Crowley waved his hand, “second wave or whatever they’re calling it.”

“How do the Horsemen just lose one of their people?”

“They don’t report to anyone. It’d be easy to slip out and hide in the middle of a pandemic before anyone noticed he was getting carried away. No one really pays attention to what happens on Earth. Look at us.”

Aziraphale twisted the gold band on his ring finger. A year ago they had slipped off to France together and, after a bottle and a half of wine, found a group of young students outside a bar they were leaving. Crowley, wearing a white dress, was asked if she was on her way to her wedding. The students looked up at her with half-lidded eyes and passed their own wine bottle around between giggles.

Crowley had looked at Aziraphale and made a comment about someone not committing. Aziraphale had tried sputtering an excuse, but the students booed at him and insisted on them getting married right there. One lanky boy made up a prayer and vows and declared them to be married after they laughed through oui and a kiss. The other students cheered and offered them both a swig of their wine.

The next morning as they laid in bed with the morning sunlight peeking through their blinds, they decided that that could be enough. It wasn’t a legal marriage by any means, but that meant little. They didn’t truly abide by human laws and ceremonies and so, they bought two golden bands once their heads stopped aching that afternoon.

“Well, hopefully, they find him in time before the situation gets any worse. The king of Spain falling ill has Pestilence’s name written all over it. I wouldn’t be surprised if more government heads start collapsing or if Spain as a whole has more trouble.”

“I, uh.” Crowley sunk down on the sofa. His chest tightened. “I’m actually assigned to go to Spain in a few days. They want me reporting on the deaths and all that in Madrid and to perform some temptations. Since they’re not in the war, Hell thinks I should be giving them an extra push.”

Aziraphale straightened in his chair. “Spain? That’s wonderful!”

“Why?” Crowley scrunched his nose. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“That’s fine. My dear, I didn’t want to tell you when you were in this state, but I’m to go to Spain next week.”

Crowley sat up, clutching at the edges of the sofa so he wouldn’t fall over in his wine-induced dizziness. “Really?”

“They said it’s in desperate need of blessings with the new outbreaks and international blame. They didn’t tell me to settle down anywhere, but I’m sure if I were to learn that a certain agent of Hell was in Madrid they’d understand me staying there for an extended time.”

It wasn’t unusual that they would be assigned to the same location at the same time. Their entire purpose on Earth, they had once established, seemed to be to just cancel one another out. It was best for neither of them to carry out their tasks or for one of them to do both.

“Well, it might be time for a holiday,” Crowley said.

“We can’t holiday in the middle of all of this. We should do some work at least if we’re both going to be there.”

“No one’s going to know.”

“I’m sure they’ll actually be reading your reports this time, Crowley,” Aziraphale warned. “You won’t be able to fake your way out of this one.”

Crowley grimaced. Aziraphale had a point. If he was supposed to report numbers and act as eyes for Hell, then the chances of Beelzebub skimming his reports would be slim.

“Fine,” he said. “We’ll do a little work. But, I want to see the beaches at some point.”

“We’ll have plenty of free time once Pestilence calms down. My higher-ups told me this afternoon that they think he’ll reign in his pandemic soon. War is scheduled to stop her mess within the next few months, and he might call off his affair at the same time. Or at the very least, the virus won’t spread as it has been without soldiers moving from country to country.”

Aziraphale didn’t sound like he believed it. No one could predict what the Horsemen did. No one gave them assignments or asked for reports like low-level angels and demons. If Pestilence wanted to keep going, he would. It wasn’t regulation for anyone to confront him.

Crowley sipped at his wine. The more he had, the less he noticed the stinging flavor on his tongue. His head was fuzzy.

“You know,” he said, “we could probably look for the bastard ourselves.”

“What do you mean?”

“If there’s a fuss in Spain right now, Pestilence might be there. Think about it, he finished his influenza spree, then it was silent, and now all of a sudden Spain is being hit with fatal cases in small pockets? There’s not soldiers over there passing it around like the Americans and Brits are doing. It wasn’t a steady rise, either. It just… happened.”

“He usually works quite remote. You really think he’s lingered in one country?”

Thanks to the human need to socialize and their general ignorance of proper sanitation, Pestilence could spend only one day in a city and his most recent disease would spread to the entire country by the end of the week. Crowley saw him once during the plague ordeal. And that was how it usually went. Pestilence would infect one person and move on as his disease steadily spread.

If he didn’t cause such grotesque suffering and death to the most vulnerable people, Crowley would admire him for his work and be quick to compare it to his own. Humans had a tendency to muck things up on their own. All occult beings needed to do was knock over the first domino, and Crowley could tell when someone was knocking over all of them in one sweep and kicking them across the room.

“To spread it around as fast as he could to a country that isn’t censoring their papers or having their army move around? Yes. You know how much of an ego he has, and he hasn’t been getting any attention in most of Europe. He doesn’t have to fight for the spotlight with War over there. He gets all the headlines and all the hysteria. He’s probably thriving there right about now.”

Aziraphale hummed. “You make a fair point. Those four are really as bad as toddlers at times, aren’t they? Remember the trouble in Ireland? Famine went too far with that one.”

“I’m still convinced the English made it worse on their own.”

“Wouldn’t put it past them.” Aziraphale furrowed his brow, pulling himself back into the topic at hand. “But how do we find Pestilence? He could be anywhere in Spain—if he’s there at all.”

Crowley folded his arms across his chest and sank back into the sofa. “Might have to figure that one out later. Might have to trace death rates or something or where new cases are popping up.”

Aziraphale’s face lit up. “Like one would in a detective novel!”

Crowley smiled. “Exactly.”

“I think we can piece it together once we’re both sober. I’m sure the humans are keeping records of everything. We could make copies and look at the newspapers. We could probably find ourselves in a hospital occasionally and look around.”

“Or we could always be in the hospitals. Beelzebub told me that they’re getting overwhelmed. That’d be perfect for both of us. I could tempt the staff, put doubt in their minds and whatnot. And you can do your blessings from there. And then, we would have records and gossip, and we could narrow down where the bastard is.”

“I could pose as a priest. I’m sure there’s a need for them in hospitals. What would you do, dear? Pose as a doctor?”

“I was thinking a nurse.” Crowley wiggled in his seat, pulling his legs up under him. He was getting sleepy from the wine. “I’d be with more patients. I could scope out more of the hospital that way.”

“You’d make quite a charming nurse.”

“Thank you.”

Aziraphale looked at the clock on his desk. Crowley propped his head on his fist, blinking lazily at the angel as he began to bustle around the small room. He placed a stopper in the wine bottle and moved it, along with his own glass, onto the shelf that usually held multiple wines and liqueurs. It sat next to a lonely, half-full Moscato.

“You must be ready to sleep, my dear.” Aziraphale plucked his glass from his hands. “Would you like to stay here?”

Crowley usually didn’t take his chances with staying at the bookshop for too long. Even if they were married by their own standards, they never risked being in each other’s company for longer than 24 hours in case someone was watching. But with the strain Hell was under, Crowley thought that maybe they wouldn’t notice if he spent one more night on Azirphale’s sofa. So, he nodded.

Aziraphale draped a blanket over him. “Do stretch out, dear, or you’ll be sore in the morning.”

Crowley laid on the sofa, his clothes turning into pajamas. Aziraphale adjusted the blanket around him and swept a loose strand of hair off Crowley’s forehead. These were the tender moments that made Crowley want to go rogue himself and run away with Aziraphale so that every night he could feel the soft, chubby fingers at his temple and light breath on his cheek as Aziraphale kissed him.

“Have sweet dreams.”

And Crowley would.

Comment, drop kudos, bookmark and/or subscribe on AO3!

#spain 1918 #my fics #good omens #ineffable husbands #there's background info on the ao3 note too that didn't look good here

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winterfang53 · 4 years

Text

Gajevy Week 2020 - Letters

Super late but here you go!

Gajevy Week 202 day 1: Letters! I hope you enjoy!

Levy was running the moment she got off the bus; her red backpack bouncing on her back while her lunchbox threatened to fly out of her hand. The 12-year-old raced down the block towards her house, only stopping at the mailbox at the end of the driveway.

Excitement gleamed in her eyes as she eagerly opened the wooden frame only to deflate at the emptiness within.

“Not today I guess,” Levy sign, pouting as she trudged towards the front door, lacking the energy she had only a moment before. “I hope it comes tomorrow then,” Levy said quietly.

Levy made her way into her house, almost tripping over her older brother’s shoes at the doorway. “Stupid Jellal,” she grumbled loudly, catching the attention of someone in the kitchen.

“Levy is that you dear?” her mother called, poking her head around the corner, “how was school, Honey?”

“It was fine,” Levy said hesitantly, “Mom, did you get the mail by any chance?”

Levy’s mother smiled brightly, “Your letter’s on the table, Sweetie.”

Joy brightened Levy’s eyes, making her throw her shoes off in hast to bounce her way into the kitchen. There, sitting the on the light wooden table was a plain white letter with her name scribbled in bad handwriting. Levy squealed as she leaped towards the letter only for it to be ripped from her hand.

“What’s this?” Levy’s older brother Jellal asked, holding the letter above her short stature, “a letter from your boyfriend?” he teased.

“Jellal!” Levy screeched, her cheeks flushing with anger and embarrassment, “he’s not my boyfriend and gives me it back!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jellal laughed, “your penpal, who you wait with bated breath for every letter he sends you. It’s kind of sad Lev.”

Before Levy could defend herself, a show flew through the air to smack her brother in the face. Looks like her mom was here to defend her instead. “Jellal stop teasing your sister and put your shoes away!”

Levy snatched her letter and bolted up the stairs to her room, locking the door so her brother couldn’t chase her.

Downstairs, Levy’s mom chastised her son: “Why do you have to tease her like that? You know how hard it is for Levy to make friends -- those letters brighten her day!”

“Sorry Mom,” Jellal grumbled, “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just she really needs to make more friends than the one boy who’s her penpal from last year.”

Their Mother’s eyes soften, “I know Honey, but you know how shy she is, she has a hard time connecting to the other kids. Let her appreciate the friend she has now.”

“I just hope he doesn’t stop writing her letters,” Jellal signed as he gazed up the stairs, “it would break her heart.”

Upstairs behind Levy’s locked door, sat Levy on her bed gazing at the letter in hand. It was a plain white envelope -- like always -- with her name scribbled in a handwritten that she could recognize anywhere as her penpal Gajeel Redfox. Last year, before the summer started, Levy’s school started a penpal program between her school and a school on the other side of the state. It was mandatory for all 5th graders in her school to participate, making shy little Levy write a letter to a complete stranger.

Levy can still remember how nervous she was writing her first letter -- an introduction letter about herself -- and how her tummy hurt for 2 whole weeks while she waited for a response, only for her to bristle in fury at the response her got:

You sound short.

Gajeel Redfox, as Levy came to discover, was a boy of every few words and took much joy in teasing her even though letters. Levy had been so mad that she wrote a very rude letter back. For the rest of the summer, Levy and Gajeel sent “hate mail” to each other, calling each other every name in the book until the first week of school when it dawned on her that the program was over.

Levy had come to look forward to each letter; the excitement of interacting with someone her own age wasn’t something Levy got to experience often -- given her lack of friends. During the second week of 6th grade, Levy sent a letter to Gajeel asking him if he still wanted to send letters and for 2 whole weeks, Levy sat again with her tummy hurting. When that letter came, Levy almost cried happily at what was written:

You’re funny Shrimp, why on earth would I stop now?

Now, in April and almost a whole year of writing letters, Levy and Gajeel still exchanged letters almost every week -- just with less teasing.

Levy gently opened the letter, so as not to rip the letter, and pulled out the plain white notebook paper that Gajeel always wrote on:

Shrimp,

My Ma says I need to start my letters by asking how you are so here: How are you? I don’t really know why I need to do that, you would tell me if you’re ok or no but whatever. Has your school started ‘preparing’ you guys for middle school? Mine has and it stinks. What’s the big deal with middle school anyways? The only difference is that you have more than one classroom now, big deal. My Ma says it’s a bigger deal than that but I think she’s exaggerating. See? I used a big word -- I AM using that stupid dictionary you gave me for Christmas so now you can’t say I’m not! Yes, I know there were Pokemon cards in the dictionary but you still gave me a dictionary for Christmas. That’s worst than socks Shrimp!

Anyways that not the real thing I want to talk about. My folks are dragging me and Wendy to go see my grandparents out of state this summer, we’re gonna be there for a whole month while dad has to go overseas for work! I put their address at the end of this letter so you know where to send your letters to me. I’ll be there from June 23 to July 25 so don’t forget!

P.S. I hate making friends too, most of my friends are my cousins, well and you. Don’t let the other kids bully you ok? I’m not there to beat them up.

Gajeel

Levy smiled as she read her letter, blushing slightly at Gajeel’s hidden concern for her. Even if he was mean most of the time, Levy knew that he cared for her in his own weird way. His letters were the highlight of her day -- save for reading. Levy hoped from her bed and pulled out a large box from underneath. There, Levy had every letter Gajeel ever sent her. Kissing the letter, Levy placed it in the box before hopping over to her desk to write her reply.

…

Levy and Gajeel continued being penpals for years to come, surprising everyone even themselves on their commitment. It wasn’t until high school when both Gajeel and Levy got cellphones did the letters slow down a bit and were partially replaced by texts. Letters, texts, and later calls allowed for Gajeel and Levy’s relationship to flourish until one fateful day during the first week of college did Levy and Gajeel finally meets -- 7 years after the first letter.

“Welcome to Art History 100 everyone!” the professor called out at the front of the class, “why don’t we start by introducing ourselves: Everyone, going in order, please stand up, give your name, and give a strange fact about your self!” Levy sat in the middle of class, her hair pulled back in her favorite headband -- a gift from Gajeel -- as she nervously waited for her turn. Finally, after what felt like forever, it was her turn.

“Um, Hello I’m Levy McGarden and my strange fact is that I’ve had a penpal since 5th grade that still actively talk to,” Levy said shyly before sitting down.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” the blond girl next to her said, her brown eyes showing her honesty, “I didn’t think penpals were still a thing!”

Levy beamed at the girl -- Lucy if she remembered correctly. “Yeah, we were pretty unusual. I’m Levy by the way.”

“Lucy,” the blond said nodding her head with a smile, “did you two ever meet up or anything?”

Levy shook her head, “no, he lived on the other side of the state so we never got the chance.”

“What about now?” Lucy asked quietly since there were still people introducing themselves, “where does he go to school.”

Levy frowned at this, “I don’t know, to be honest, he told me it was a secret. Knowing him, he probably did it to piss me-” she was cut off then by a familiar voice that she had never heard in person before.

“My name is Gajeel Redfox and my strange fact is that I’m Levy McGraden’s penpal, Gihi!”

Levy could only gab at the towering male with thick black hair, silver piercings, and a fanged grin smiling over at her from the back of the room. There, in the flesh, was her crush since grade school, her penpal, Gajeel Redfox.

“You asshole,” Levy said softly, unable to stop the smile that was spreading across her lips as Lucy cooed on how cute this was. Throughout the rest of the class, Levy couldn’t help herself from looking back at that man who pissed her off and make her smile all with the same breath. Meeting the red eyes that teased her from the back while Lucy giggled at her the whole time.

“You have some explaining to do you jerk!” Levy growled playfully as she whacked him after class.

“Gihi! What? You didn’t like the surprise?” Gajeel laughed, dodging her little fists, “damn, I must say Shrimp, you’re living up to your name!”

“Gajeel!”

...

4 years later, at their wedding reception, while Lucy was recounting the story, Levy slip over a folded paper to her new husband.

“What’s this?” Gajeel whispered, his brow raised in question.

“The first letter of our marriage,” Levy said smiling, “read it.”

Gajeel eyed her in question before unfolding the paper only to choke on his own tongue;

“We’re pregnant?!”

I hope everyone enjoyed this!

#gajevy week #gajevy #Gajeel X Levy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #fairy tail

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dearholly · 4 years

Text

Dear Me,

I know why you’re here and I’m not mad. I’m not disappointed. Read this and then go rest. And please be gentle on yourself.

We met at Macy's and immediately hit it off. I think it was a dark sense of humor and a fluency in sarcasm that first bonded us. She was amused and seemingly rapt by everything I had to say. When I eventually left Macy's for a work-at-home job listening to sales calls, I brought her with me. And because he was unemployed, her ex-boyfriend/roommate came with us as well.

They had dated in high school but had long since broken up although hey were still living together in her parent's house after his parents moved to Hawaii without him. I got to know him more when we started at our new positions. As a telecommuting job, here were a lot of opportunities for us to bond over instant messenger. He had a raw, vulnerable quality that drew me to him and I enjoyed how open and free I could be with him. He didn't seem to mind the darker parts of my humor and we bonded over a love of cars and photography.

The first tear in the fabric of everything is, I think, when I admitted to to my husband that I thought I had feelings for Her. He sexualized this confession and internalized it as permission for himself to be attracted to her, which in short turn he started to act on. In some ways, I knew that would happen but but I was terrified of my feelings. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, just that I wanted something else. Something more than what I had. On some level, I believe that I wanted her. But I let my fear and submissiveness get the better of me and chose to put my needs aside for what my husband wanted, which at the time seemed more manageable for me than having to deal with my own inner turmoil.

Throughout their entire flirtation in the beginning, she never came to me to tell me what was going on, or to question it. To this day, I don't even know if she asked my husband whether or not I knew. It might be the years that have since passed shading my opinions in this matter, but I don't believe she ever did ask him. I eventually did come to her to tell her what was going on, but I don't believe that I ever really trusted her again after that, despite our friendship continuing for another five years.

Years later, when I would say all of this out loud to a therapist, I would realize what a hard time I have accepting and advocating for my own feelings. Looking back now, I can tell you I was deeply hurt and extremely angry.

Which is probably what lead me to sleep with Him, her ex-boyfriend slash roommate, on the same night she first slept with my husband. And I did not afford her the same foreknowledge that I had.

But it wasn't all vindication. He and I had been getting very close. We worked together on a wedding I shot in Malibu. I'll never forget when we had some free time in between getting shots and we drove down to the beachier part of the beach to look for some locations to shoot the couple later. It was raining and the beach was empty, so he told me to take the car onto the sand, assuring me that it'd be fine. He was something of an expert on cars, after all. The front tires almost immediately sunk into the sand and we got stuck. As panic mounted in both of us, a friendly gentleman in a Nissan Xterra came by and offered assistance. With some pushing and revving, the car was unstuck. After our Samaritan drove off, He turned to me to apologize and wrapped his arms around me. There's something about being hugged by a person who is much taller than you. In that moment, I fell in love with him. His easy free affection was all it took.

And she had no clue about any of it because I did not do the courtesy of cluing her in. This is what is so dangerous about people who are not even aware of the emotions they're having.

Also, I knew that she would cock block. So the night that she came to my house to fuck my husband, I set up a little date with her ex boyfriend. I took him to a local bar, and explained what was happening with Her and my husband. And then I told him, "But I am here with you." Couldn't keep our hands off each other after that.

I didn't tell her until after the fact and I am positive that there was never a moment after that that she fully trusted me either. We cursed ourselves from the very beginning. And then made things truly awkward by attempting to have a four-way.

They say ignorance is bliss, but denial is true euphoria. And that is where we lived for the next 6 years. We changed our state abbreviation from CA to WA, but we lived in the same place, ignoring red flag after red flag. The chemistry was just bad. But we plundered ahead, all four of us. And when three of us lost our telecommuting jobs, it was Him that found us work again.

I hated the idea from the very beginning (red flag) but said nothing. I resented that he got her a job at the same place he'd gotten me a job and that she'd be starting the day after me, leaving me no time at all to have this one thing for myself. I knew even then that working and living with her would turn out to be a problem. And it did; when something bad happened at work, there was no escape from it at home. When something bad happened at home, there was no escape from it at work. Even though we were on opposite ends of the house, there was just no escaping it. When she was upset, there was a toxic cloud that hung over the whole house. It seeped into everything and was unescapable. It left no room for anyone else to take up any emotional space.

After a while, I stopped getting a period. But because I was living on Denial St, I ignored it for over a year. My doctors wholly admitted that they have no idea how this could have happened at such an early point in my life, but all of them speculated stress, both physical and mental. Prior to losing my period, I had lost a great deal of weight in a small time by over-exercising and under-eating. I was starving myself and then working myself to the point of exhaustion, and if this were the cause of my early menopause, I would not be surprised to find that out.

However, there was no space in my home to have any feelings about this. Because I was of a mind to never have children anyway, it was easy for most people to minimize how deeply it was affecting me, and ignore the active signs that it was doing so. And I never talked about. The feelings were too confusing, too mixed up, to talk about. I didn't understand them myself and there was no room to figure them out there.

A couple months after I got my menopause diagnosis, I started having regular panic attacks. She is the one who suggested I speak to a therapist. She's the one who recommended my first one, actually. And I am still glad that she did. My life really started to turn around at that point. I started in May of that year and by the end of the summer, I had finalized my divorce and moved into my own apartment. And later that year, I started anti depressants.

It is my belief that all of the improvements and growth in my life are what lead she and I to have our initial falling out that next Spring. Through therapy, and medication, and meditation, and all the other ways in which I was working on improving myself, I did eventually grow strong. And so did my boundaries. I started saying "No." more and "Sorry" less. And I stopped accepting unnecessary bullshit that was launched in my direction.

Especially when it is in a shared space in which professionalism is mandatory. After a five month hiatus from the office in which she recovered from an exploding kidney, I invited her to help me train a batch of new hires. During which, at some point, I explained something to one of them which was news to her. She started raising her voice in frustration, demanding to know why she was never told anything, and in general being extremely negative. To be clear, this type of behavior was just something she did. And it always bothered me - something that should be of little to no consequence to her personally, blown up in decibels and f-bombs. Like her brother dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her roommate's cousin marrying someone she didn't approve of. Or her cousin dating someone she didn't approve of. Or her aunts doing or saying something she didn't approve of. I often thought about buying her a robe and gavel for how judgmental and salty she could be to the people she supposedly loved. But I digress....

I am a deeply private person. So in that moment in our office, I was completely mortified. Here are these strangers I am trying to set a good example for, and here she comes with her Debbie Downer bullshit. I shut the conversation down as fast as I could by leaving it immediately. But later I sent a text explaining why that was over the line and why I was upset. A day later, I received some half assed apology about how she felt she was being left behind at work, and that somehow justified the disrespect. Like it was acceptable behavior because she was in pain.

I didn't respond. For one, because I was knee deep (literally) in dog fur, trying to shave my Maltese mutt. And for another, I thought that what needed to be said had been said. Her response didn't change mine. And so the next day, I went to her apartment as I did every Monday to do my laundry. As I was putting the laundry into the washing machine, I heard her bedroom door open. Before I could even look up from my dirty jeans and towels, I hear "Oh... Hi." and I turn just in time to see a flash of red hair whipping behind a slamming door.

At that point, I start to have a panic attack, assuming the slammed door was for me and my face. But I breathe through it and decide its best left aone. She's still upset and I don't have the bandwidth to find out why. I'm done volunteering for whatever that is. At work, I try to be cordial. With Him, I try to maintain boundaries and I tell him nothing that happens between she and I.

A few days go by. One night, I go pick him up and we have dinner at a diner down the street from his place. He's visibly upset, and he's using that soft whispery tone that usually precedes a fucking nightmare. Over my country fried chicken, I ask him what's wrong. He asks why I am ignoring her. I tell him I am not. And that after having a door slammed at me, I'm giving whatever she is dealing with a wide berth. He convinces me to reach out to her to try and resolve the issue.

So I try to do that. But I'm annoyed and I say entirely the wrong thing, from the very start. I tell her "Stop telling people I'm ignoring you." Rather than "I am not ignoring you, Friend. Rather trying to give you space to deal with whatever it is you're dealing with because I don't understand it"... which eventually I do say, but it's too late. My tone is too incendiary. I'm too angry now. And I no longer feel as if this is anything worth saving anymore. She feels the same way. So she tells me we can no longer be friends. I'm hurt that she said that, but more disappointed that she said it first, and I accept that this is the way things will be. I block her on every social media platform we have in common.

Things are instantly strained between He and I. I ask him repeatedly not to get involved because I will be the one accused of it. But he can't help himself from being upset because she's upset. They have no boundaries at all between them. I tell him I need a break from him. He accuses me of "dropping him" the same way I "dropped Her" And so we break up.

For about 2 months. And then one night, I happen to get a late bus out of Seattle and sit across from him. He was coming from work. And I was coming from a bar. Were it not for the tequila, I probably would never have moved next to him. We made very little conversation all the way to our bus stop. I don't remember what I said. Probably just that I missed him and that I wish things had been different. We started talking again after that. And things were better, for a time. Between he and I, anyways.

What happened then between she and I is what sealed our friendship to the annals of history forever...

One night, while late in bed, I get an email notification from tumblr telling me I had a new follower. And its Her. Through several name/address changes, on the one platform I did not think to block her from, there she was following me. Looking down on that message as it glowed up at me from under the covers, witnessing the little smirk in her user avatar, I started to shake. The blog I thought I had made for myself, similar to this one, where I had the space to ruminate and collect thoughts, had been violated and invaded. Like every other aspect of my life, by her.

I did not react well to this discovery. At first, I made several passive aggressive posts directed at her and then deleted each one. And then I went directly to her, asking her to stop as I didn't think it was appropriate for her to be following me. Her response was to laugh at me, and mock something I had said in one of the passive aggressive and deleted posts I made. I'm not ashamed to admit that my reaction was explosive. I hurled every shitty thing I could think of to say inside one sentence and then deleted the entire messaging system we were using to communicate (which at the time was Slack). Later, when I apologized for my terrible reaction, she doubled down on the insults and called me a hypocrite for expecting that there be boundaries between myself and the person who said they never wanted to speak to me again. And so a final decision was made that this was not worth saving. So I blew it up over two lengthy emails.

I don't even remember what I said. And I don't want to. I suspect my brain is protecting me like a heat shield protects a satellite that is being hurled back to earth. I do remember what she said, which is that I proved her therapists right and that I had always been a bad person. I remember this because my therapist had lead me to the same conclusion about herself. Funny how even in our friendship death, we still have things in common.

A day or two after she followed me on tumblr, I updated the configuration of my blog that said no one could access via the app that wasn’t one of my followers, essentially ensuring that whoever was going to visit my site was going to do so in broad daylight. And then I installed a counter that tracked IP addresses of visitors who came to my blog. For months, she continued to check on it. It was like she couldn’t help it. She was clearly sick. So to test the lengths to which she would go to find it, I changed the name once again and sent Him a link to a post. Lo and behold one week later, there is the entry from his phone visiting. And then a few days later another, closely followed by Her IP again. Tumblr would be the first of many spaces that she colonized and evicted me from. It's not a coincidence that I struggled to find a voice after that or that I have not been able to write with anything approaching ease in the last few years.

I didn't see her or talk to her for months. She had stopped coming into the office. I stopped hearing sirens in my head when I saw her name, so I unblocked her on social media. After all, we still share friends and having gotten what I wanted all along (space), my anger had evaporated.

But according to my boss, she still used the fact that we no longer got along as an excuse to work from home. As if I had been the one shouting at her in the office, as if I had caused a hostile work place. It's no small coincidence, in my mind, that I was let go by our boss very shortly after she returned to the office regularly. I can't prove it, but I believe she contributed to it. And unfortunately, it wouldn't be the last time she actively set out to hurt me.

When I lost my job, I lost my insurance and therefore, access to my therapist. And I had to start rationing my anti-depressants. I fell into the deepest darkest depression of my life. And it did not help that this was all in the dead of winter, when the sun barely came out long enough for me to see it and run outside. Through the rest of December and January, I submitted dozens of applications and copies of my resume. Finally, at the end of January when I had had to start cutting each of my Lexapro's in half to get by, I got a call for an interview for a company in New York. They hired me almost immediately, and before I knew it I was being sent to New York to be trained. It was right around the same time that I found out the remaining members of the team I had hired at my previous job, Her and several others had been let go unexpectedly. I'd love to say that there was no part of me that received any amount of pleasure upon hearing that, but I'd be lying. I definitely gloated. It felt good to know that things were going wrong for them, for her, when things had just started to go right for me after they messed them up so poorly. In all of my self righteousness I opined to a mutual friend about how bleak Her household must be because I believed it probably was. It sucks to lose one's job and I would know all about that. That mutual friend, knowing that I had a relationship with Him at this time, mistook my opinion as though I had heard it was bleak in the household directly from Him. So the next time our mutual friend spoke with Her, our mutual friend voiced some concerns about the state of how things were going for the two of them. Her spoke to Him later, demanding to know why He is telling me in particular that things in their house are not fine. Which leads him to send a group chat message...

It's 7AM EST early February and I'm in the Best Western of Troy, New York reading my text messages. He has sent one to our entire friend group, demanding that if any of us are speaking about him to stop it immediately; leave him out of all conversation - She is upset that there has been any talk at all. I tell him that request is impossible as we're all friends who care about each other and I refuse to be isolated in any way from any of them. Meanwhile, sirens are going off in my head. I hear my mother's voice, warning me about domestic abusers who isolate their victims from their friends to perpetuate their abuse. I silence it. After all, I still live on the corner of Denial St and The-Dick- Is-Big Ave.

Eventually, a one-on-one conversation is started between He and I. He insinuates that it is the group chat itself that is the issue, because she is not allowed to be in it. I tell him I think it's valid that she is not in it as I am, and I want her to remain firmly out of my space. Which is a mutual feeling between the two of us, or so I thought. And anyway, I tell him, it's her that has me blocked on every social media platform we had in common.

It's at this point he calls me a liar. And it's at this point the story should have ended but I still have a severe lack of love for myself, no therapeutic support, am low on my anti depressants, and completely isolated in New York for the next two weeks.

He tells me he has her search for me on Facebook and Instagram and she finds nothing, which proves that it is I that have her blocked therefore I it is me doing the lying. Which, anyone who knows anything about social media will tell you, this is expected behavior if you have someone blocked. But he hardly ever engages with social media, let alone take the time to understand it, so this is lost on him.

I'm immediately triggered. I have to leave the office where I'm being trained for my new job and walk back to my hotel to catch my breath before I vomit up the coffee and cake that our sales manager brought as a welcome gift. The words "At this point, yeah I do think you're lying." keep swimming back up to me from a little grey bubble. I call him and scream into his voicemail. "...I do think you're lying to me," ... My hands practically vibrating, I take a screen recording of all of my blocked lists and send it to him. "...you're lying to me..." I black out for a moment, thoughts of my mothers fists raining down on me as I'm being called a liar in the backseat of her car. I sob into my hotel pillow. I feel broken.

But it’s the middle of the day, I’ve had this job for all of two days and I cannot be having a massive freak out this early on. I take one of my precious remaining Ativan and try to breathe. Eventually, I calm myself. In a sick twist, I end up apologizing to him for screaming and overreacting. I open myself up further and explain to him why being called a liar is a trigger for me. This was a pattern with us; The only way he ever had compassion for me when we argued (and sometimes when we weren't) was when I spelled out exactly what I was going through. I thought if I was honest about my feelings with him, he would treat me with more dignity. But as a matter of fact, it turned out when I was crying on his shoulder, he felt as if I was manipulating him. He told me that once when I called him, sad because someone I had a crush on had started dating someone else. I was never sure what I was supposedly manipulating him to do. Spend time with me? Show concern for me? But despite that, I take a huge risk, expose my jugular to him again and beg for him to understand where I am coming from.

He apologizes. He comes over and we have a quiet talk. For a very short time, things go back to whatever normal is to us. We're communicating a little more and I think we're being more honest. But things aren't the same. We're still very vulnerable. I never knew if he sensed that or not. I'd like to believe that if he did, his behavior would have been different. But his behavior remained rough, and careless.

A little over a month after I returned from New York, he had invited me to his house while she was away. The entire experience was unnerving. For one, the apartment felt cold and dark. It was not very inviting. For another, He was relegated to sleeping on a roll up mat on the floor while She had a bed and a closing door with a closet and a window. This really bothered me. I thought there would be more of a separation, or a at least a clear division of space. A boundary. I look desperately for boundaries, but there were none. Her makeup vanity was directly behind his work desk and above the space he used to sleep in. And there was no trace of me there at all. But of course there wouldn't be. She wouldn't allow it. And he never cared enough about me to change that in any sense. So I started to really see for the first time that our relationship was just sex for him. I couldn't see clearly that we even had a friendship anymore and this really bothered me.

I wanted to talk to him about it, and I asked him if we could. I'm not even sure what I wanted to say, but I just needed reassurance that he was still friends with me. That he still liked me. That he was, even though he was far away, still somewhat in my corner. I was feeling anxious, I was low on my medicine, with no therapist, working 12 hour days and still broke from being unemployed for months. I just wanted to talk and have him reassure me that at the very least, he was there for me and would be there for me. He agreed to that and we scheduled a time to talk, because at that point he was extremely busy with work and trying to balance everything, as was I. The afternoon we had worked out to talk comes and goes, and I don't hear from him. I message him and I express annoyance because we had plans, but he tells me that he had an outing with Her, and it went long. And then he expresses annoyance at me for being annoyed at him. He goes on the defensive. I completely unravel over a string of messages, which of course are poorly timed and one right after the other, which I know he hates. He engages his favorite tactic which is to leave the conversation entirely, tell me he's not speaking to me for a while, and then come back at his whim. He does this over a few days. He responds to each of my texts individually, escalating in each response until he's screaming at me in all caps and has worked himself back into the rage which makes him walk away.

I'm at the point where I'm looking at this pile of garbage relationship which has twice in the past two months shoved me into two of the worst, most ill-timed panic attacks I've ever had - and finally I hear my therapist's voice ring back to me as clear as a bell: He will never leave her, and he will never choose you. Everything that my denial had been holding at bay like a sweet little naïve raincloud crashed down all at once around me with the force of a tornado. It was the way there was never any compassion or kindness shown to me at the worst time of my life. It was the way he called me a liar and a manipulator when I was trying to include him in my deepest most personal feelings and experiences. It was the way he never noticed that I was blowing up my life with alcohol or that I was deeply depressed. It was the way he lied over and over again, telling me that he cared about me and then turning around to demonstrate why that wasn't actually true. It was the way I had to bend over backwards to accommodate his feelings, while there was never any room for mine.

And so, as anticlimactically as it began, our relationship finally ended. I don't even remember what the final blow was, or what I said in response. No doubt something shaky and angry and ugly. But I have never regretted it. For as ugly as I know it probably was, I do not regret it. My life, my health both mental and physical, has improved exponentially since that day in late April.

But if there is a hopeful epilogue to the story, it would pick up six months later when I had settled into my new place in the city, to be closer to work. I started to feel those pangs again. Those little flighty feathery feelings that can be so strong they echo across decades with such intensity that you can almost physically feel their presence inside your skin where they hibernate. It was the same feeling that made me sit down next to him on the bus all that time ago. I missed him. In spite of everything that happened, everything I learned, and went through, I did. But it wasn't until I started to feel as though I missed Her too that I knew I had to get back into therapy. A queer friend of mine who had been struggling through their own relationship issues, suggested a co-op place in Seattle they'd been using which was geared specifically to women and those who identify as such. Signing up with them was probably the best decision I'd end up making in my 30's. The therapist I was paired with was understanding, validating, and I never sensed once that she was bored with anything I had to say. She equipped me with the best tools to deal with my feelings, she taught that it's okay to love and protect myself through setting and maintaining healthy boundaries. And the best part about her is that she herself maintained extremely healthy boundaries. I never knew more about her than I needed to know. Yet I felt like I connected with her on a very deep level. And through talking to her, working with her, I was able to fully understand and appreciate what I had just been through, and how to exercise compassion for myself when I would find myself in situations where I would start reliving all of that trauma. Because of her, I found myself again. Or maybe I found myself for the first time. She helped me understand the feelings I'd been having for years but hadn't had the space or emotional support to explore. She helped me put a name to a feeling I’d had since childhood but never knew there was a word for. Not long after I started working with her, I came out as non-binary. Through our work, I found a deep well of love for myself that allows me to firmly (but with patience and love) define and protect my boundaries, and still have enough energy left over show interest, compassion and love for others in their journeys. And I stopped trying to avoid feeling like shit through drinking. Literally, everything became better a result of my therapist's influence on me.

But try as I might, there are some days in the year where my mind wanders back to the grey north where I tried to make a home. When I can almost hear the drizzle of rain in Occidental Park as I cried my eyes out there over something He said. In my mind's eye, I turn away, but the neighborhood is haunted with these types of traumas for me. Nowhere is safe, my mind panics, and I get turned around in the horrid memories; screaming at each other on 1st Avenue outside E Smith, sobbing so hard on 2nd that a stranger asked me if I was okay, countless arguments in the park that followed us to the bus stop and back to our home. Eventually, my mind grows desperate for answers, and it carries me back in time... all the way back to 2010 at Macy's when it began, and the loop starts again.

Which brings me to today. I've lost count of how many times we've been down this road. But I know grief is hard. And so is recovery. One of the ways in which I see to my recovery now is to write more. I don't usually publish what I write because it's just for me and I still have a lot of residual anxiety about posting anything personal online. Another reason is that my writing is so fluid that publishing it seems too final. Like... what if I change my mind about that way I've structured a sentence? What if I think of a better way to phrase that feeling? What if I change my mind entirely about the thing that I've written about? ...Why use a period if I could use a comma?

But I'm publishing this note anyway. For you, future Holly. Because you need this to be over. And because whenever we get into this rut, the only thing we seem to be able to do to stop ourselves from missing them and reminiscing about the good times is to walk ourselves through the trauma that they ended up causing. Which is effective in getting the sad feelings to stop, but you know is burning you alive on the inside. And so I'm writing this note to tell you (future me) that we don't have to do that anymore. You can set these thoughts and feelings down in language and writing, and be done. You can publish them, and move on. You can walk away. Put a period on the end of the sentence and close the book.

But if you ever feel as though you need to mutilate yourself mentally by trying to list it all out again, so that you can poke it and dissect it and review it in triplicate... I will be here. Waiting to remind you that nothing you have ever done disqualifies you from being afforded compassion and kindness. Waiting to remind you that you deserve better friends, better love, than those that would afford you only scraps. Waiting to remind you that your anger is valid, along with your hurt and your sadness. And also waiting to remind you that this is temporary. These feelings are temporary. Give yourself the space today to feel what you are feeling. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself be angry. And tomorrow when you wake up, let it all go.

I love you. -H

#note to self #aubviously #muad-dweeb #fear is the mind killer #holly hearts

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