#[ this was actually started like a year ago as a warm-up for adding cole to my multi so i figured i'd finally finish it... ]

[theharellan]

Written for Stories of Thedas Volume II. Pairing: Solas & Cole (platonic) Prompt: Library

Masks upon masks. The Winter Palace is strange to Cole, who attends at the Inquisitor's bidding and finds himself at a loss for how to help. Solas comes upon him with ideas for how to cope with the deadly Game.

Read on AO3.

Couples spin on the dance floor, turning and turning, going nowhere and everywhere at once. Their heads fill with daydreams, one gazes into her partner’s eyes through their masks, imagining the hidden corners they could lose themselves in. Another, all he sees is the faint outline of a knife in his companion’s skirts, so all-consuming he almost forgets the steps. A third, their eyes bore holes into the other’s heads, hate springs from love eternal. His eyes dart from one couple to the next, glimpses into minds fraught with thoughts of a Game no one ever really wins.

He breathes in and feels the air catch in his throat. Honeyed words mask the taste of poison, cold compassion, they understand only so they can hurt. It isn’t right, it isn’t fair, it isn’t–

In the blink of an eye he’s in the library, surrounded by pages that whisper the words of yesterday. Not so sharp against his skin. Below, a dead man in the shape of a Warden pretends to stare at a plaque, praying no one will look at him twice, fearing they might see his valourous wings are clipped. It’s still a hurt, a tangle, but he’s trying to help. Cruelty does not become him. He lets out a breath he forgot he was holding, hands coming together to pull at his sleeves.

Oh.

He had forgotten about the uniform. The fabric doesn’t come away at his touch, no matter how hard he tugs.

And he misses his hat.

Cole wonders how long he will wait here, alone with his panic clawing at his throat. In the Spire he spent months isolated, forgotten by all save the one who no longer cares to know him. Suddenly the soft, inviting lights which illuminate the halls of the Winter Palace seem as cold as the dark cells they had kept Rhys in, clapped in irons for crimes Cole committed. Anxiety squeezes every inch of him. He counts the beats of the music that drifts from the distant dance hall, just to assure himself only minutes have passed since he came here.

A door opens behind him, and he nearly jumps into shadow, the Veil waiting to envelop him, drawing him from prying eyes, but a familiar face waits on the other side. “Solas!” he gasps, relieved and ashamed that he had doubted, but grateful most of all.

Solas shuts the door behind him, turning the handle so the latch doesn’t make a sound. “I thought I might find you here.”

That gives Cole pause. He hadn’t known he would find himself here, until it happened. “But I don’t read.” The books here are newer than those kept in the Pit, some hum with the occult, others recount poems about the shape of a woman’s hips, but he still doesn’t read. There isn’t a question in his tone, but Solas hears it, all the same.

“This place can be overwhelming for anyone, even without accounting for your abilities. Books carry meaning, but without eyes upon them those meanings are static. Far easier to take in,” he answers as he walks towards him, gait stiffer than usual. His feet had forgotten what it was like to wear shoes. Solas has been quiet that evening, quieter than usual, the stem of a glass glued between his fingers, bottomless. He lets his hat do his talking for him, the Drasca’s dissent lived on atop his head. He stops beside Cole, leaning upon the marble rail, gloved hands bearing weight. His eyes turn upon him, no brimmed hat to hide behind. “Are you all right?”

He pulls on his sleeves, this time he thinks he feels a thread come loose. “Yes... No? There are two faces for every person.” The Left Hand smiles and laughs, she comes alive, but inside it’s cold and cruel. The rose withers upon the vine. He finds the thread with his finger and pulls, but it doesn’t break. It unravels, further and further, if he keeps going his whole sleeve will be an unspooled mess on the floor. “I don’t know which to look at. I-I don’t know how to help.”

Solas reaches out, subduing his worrying hands with a single, steady touch. A gentle gesture, despite the blood which stains them. Sometimes they do not seem so different from his own, they remember the bodies because forgetting would be worse. Killer’s hands, but there is no deceit in their tenderness. Solas wraps the thread around his finger, string bright white against his brown glove, and he tugs. It snaps, suddenly brittle, and falls to the floor to be swept away by a servant who will never know they were here. A comforting hand is placed deliberately on his shoulder blade, and Cole stills. He inhales, eyes snapping from the abandoned thread to Solas. There is kindness in his eyes, quiet assurance. He has seen this all before and he will make it easier to bear. So many tricks just to make it through a day, an evening, an hour. “You will not find much compassion in these affairs, any help you offer will be perceived as duplicitous, a means to get what it is you desire.”

“Then I… shouldn’t help?”

He hesitates, delaying his answer with a moment’s deliberation. “The choice is ultimately yours, but their comfort should not come at the cost of your peace of mind.” His hand slowly falls from his back as Cole turns his advice around in his head. “While we are waiting for the Inquisitor to call upon us, rather than mend the missing pieces in strangers’ lives, perhaps I may help you.”

“Help me?” He searches Solas’ eyes for answers, compassion seeking solace in pride. They are quiet, revealing only as much as intended. Cole chips at the cracks in the rock and hopes for water to spring forth, but he guards his sorrows like a wolf guards her den.

“Would you care to learn how to dance?”

A dozen thoughts pile into the spirit’s head, most too quick to catch, but he grasps one by the tail. “Do spirits dance?”

Solas claims spirits are people, and each day that belief is realer in Cole’s own mind, reinforced by the Herald and Solas himself. He need not change to be loved, or understood, he need only be himself. But if he is a person, then he is not a person the way Varric is, or Cassandra, or even Solas. There’s a touch of sadness in the corner of his smile, as though he is sorry the question needs to be asked. “I suppose it falls to us to answer together,” he replies patiently with an offered palm.

Uncertain how it will help, but ready to trust that it can, he takes Solas’ hand.

“Listen closely,” he says, but he declines to speak again. Cole’s instruction takes a different turn, a manicured glimpse through a window into Solas’ soul.

“Delicate hand folded like a paper crane between my shoulders, her eyes shine like the gold she deals in when I take to the dance.” Josephine had poured so much into tonight, all her smiles and favours, anything that will see the Inquisition prevail. “She didn’t think you would be asked to dance, but she was afraid if you didn’t learn, someone would.”

“Her time was likely better spent elsewhere,” he agrees, “though nothing would have given me more pleasure tonight than refusing one of Celene’s court. Listen again, parse the thoughts which cloud the memory and see how we move.” Cole nods, and concentrates. He remembers the palm tucked in the valley between Solas’ shoulders, and he moves his there. His feet, too, he moves in line with his hips. It’s strange, focusing upon his own body and the space it takes up in the world. Lighter now that he has chosen compassion, but still very much real, empty only in the seconds the air rushes from the chambers of his lungs.

He feels eyes upon him, questioning, searching for confirmation before the music dares move them. “I’m ready.”

When Solas steps forward, Cole steps back, like they’re two puppets on the same musical string. He clips his strides, travelling farther faster than Solas can hope to without magic to carry him there. Awkward at first, but with each beat he feels him join with the dance that exists in his head. Old melodies, half-remembered, play in distant memories. Like the sky he knew it, once, but made himself forget. Dancing wasn’t always this way, was it?

Solas remembers. Feet too full of motion to keep his thoughts safe in his head, they spill onto the fabric of the world where Cole breathes them like his own. Memories of moving on a dancefloor to a familiar tune, swaying with the stars themselves, spinning until they parted from the earth. He swells with pride, a beast alive beneath his ribcage, it thrives and fights and inspires. When they dance the heavens and the earth move, and an empire holds its breath. It fears what dread the dawn will bring, but his People find freedom in the impromptu steps.

“What are you two doing here?” A voice snaps the string. Halamshiral looks different than it did heartbeats ago, all the magic hidden in dark corners (all the elves, too). When Cole turns to see the servant who disturbed them, he’s surprised to see a bare face behind her plain mask, and a second later cannot recall why.

With silver eyes she stares at him, unblinking. “She can see me.”

“A consequence of our dance, I believe.” Yes, he can feel it. Solas fades with each passing second, growing distant as his hand falls from his waist. “It will fade in a moment.” He speaks as though she is not there, but he’s waiting. It’s another dance, only it’s Cole’s turn to lead.

Cut loose, he turns his attention to the woman. Fear flows through her veins, the dagger beneath her sleeve is ready to open theirs. Beneath the steel, her heart wavers. Stranded between duty and love. “I’m warning you-”

“There’s still time,” he says. “She waits for you beside the fountain where you wished away Your Lady’s collection.” There were wiser things to do with gold, but oh how they’d laughed with every dream plunged into the water.

Cole steps forward and she braces, but not fast enough. “Forget.”

Time is unmade behind her eyes, and she slips the mask from her face to rub the last place she’d been kissed. Gone as quickly as she came, with new purpose in her step.

“It seems you found a way to help someone, after all,” Solas remarks after the library door has shut behind her. “You never fail to impress.”

Something in him shines brighter, bolstered by his pride. “Thank you.” He falters, looking down at his feet, curling his toes inside their boots. “I’d like to try another dance, if you think there’s time.”

A laugh coloured wine red parts Solas’ lips, punctuated by a snort that makes Blackwall down below look around for its source. “I believe there is time for one more,” he says, outstretched palm seeking Cole’s hand. “Since you have devised a way to put off intruders, I daresay we have all the time in the world.”

It isn’t a lie, but neither is it true. Like the golden caprice coins that shine beneath the lovers’ reunion, Solas’ words glow like wishes.

#dragon age #solas #cole dragon age #cole #storiesofthedas2 #storiesofthedas #a pain you can't heal ( cole ) #( my writing ) #wicked eyes & wicked hearts ( quests ) #[ this was actually started like a year ago as a warm-up for adding cole to my multi so i figured i'd finally finish it... ] #[ pls dont make me repost this tumblr ]

[apherod]

Rubian Soulmate AU

I finally finished writing it ahhhh

I eventually decided that I was going for a sketch-style writing for this. Just short bits and pieces here and there, piecing together some scenes, but not fully fleshed out into a storyline (it coincides with the original story mostly anyway)

So here it is! Enjoy!

This is a Liam and Ruby Soulmate AU requested by an anon (possibly @thedarkestcrew?) ask, in which damage done to one half of the soulmate pair would translate to the other half. 

Word count: 4400

===

Liam

“Where did all these bruises come from?”

I was driving through Highway 95 in Maryland when I noticed the bruises crowning my knuckles. They just…appeared, like petals floating to the surface of water. It is possible that I punched something—or someone—at some point in the last few days, or tripped and fell, and using…my fists to break the fall? But I don’t recall doing any of that.

Then again, my head hadn’t been the most reliable in these past few weeks, either.

They weren’t the first. A couple of weeks ago, I woke up with a cut on my upper arm, and the blood drenched half of my sleeve, but the sleeve wasn’t torn or cut, so it couldn’t have been me… Another one came a few days after that, when I was driving, and a sudden searing pain came to my wrist, like I was burnt by a frying pan, but that part of my skin wasn’t even touching anything. The list goes on.

I think I’m going insane.

Some people…some who are lucky enough to find their soulmates, found themselves with identical wounds on them, because when one half of that bond gets hurt, the other one suffers, too. Mom’s bruises never translated onto our birth dad. Maybe that was why he was so okay with hurting her. It wasn’t until she met Harry, did that magic—or curse—work on both of them.

But that’s exactly that—it only happens after you’ve met the person. If I’ve somehow met her, and didn’t know who she was, then I’ve really screwed up. Big time.

It couldn’t have been anyone in Caledonia, otherwise I would’ve known. No one from home, either. There weren’t even that many of us left. Could it be someone from East River? For some reason, I just couldn’t be sure… There’re this weird quality in my memory when I think of East River, glowing tinge surrounding everything, blurring details, and flaring up the edges, making it hard to see for too long.

Also, if I met her in East River, why isn’t she with me?

If she’s really out there, I felt sorry for all the pain I’ve caused her in the past few days. When I narrowly escaped that group of Skip Tracers, my arms were all cut up, real pretty. I can’t imagine the horror she must have felt when her arms just, out of nowhere, started spontaneously bleeding half of her blood out.

I really ought to take better care of myself, even if it’s just for her sake.

When I crossed the state boarder into Pennsylvania, I managed to find an old payphone, and left a voice mail for my brother to let him know where I am, and that I’m coming his way. I didn’t want to—asking for Cole’s help was one of the few things that I genuinely want to avoid—but I’m really desperate.

The truth is, just imagining him gloating about this—about me needing his help—was almost enough to make me turn around. Think about the last time I asked for his help… didn’t work out so well, did it? But whatever Cole has to offer, whatever nightmare I have to live through going back to the League, is better than being hauled back into the camp.

I don’t think they’d actually take me back into a camp, anyway.

When I got passed the wrong Wilmington, I briefly glimpsed the road sign that read US 13, and a voice suddenly rang in my head.

Turn off here. It urged.

The feeling was distinctly different from my reluctance to meet Cole—it was a drive, asking me to go somewhere, rather than run from somewhere.

Whatever it was, I can’t listen, no matter how hard I wanted to, no matter how it warmed my heart just thinking about that impulse, like it would lead me home, even though I had no idea how.

I got into the city of Philadelphia, and found my brother’s apartment soon enough. When I got into his building, a woman threw me a sideway glance that made my hair stood on their ends.

Please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me, please don’t recognize me… I muttered in my head while I pressed the buzzer. The door swung opened, and I was snatched inside by a forceful arm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Cole snarled before I could even lay eyes on him properly. “Why didn’t you call me when you got here?”

He looked much better than me, that much was clear. Cole never had any wound that wasn’t his own, and from the looks of him, he hadn’t seen much action lately. His hair was clean-cut, brushed neatly away from his face. He was wearing a white shirt and dark blue jeans, with metal-frame glasses which were clearly without diopters to finish the look. In this getup, you’d expect him to be a graduate student in U Penn, not a high school dropout.

“I… I didn’t have any money to place a call.” I muttered, feeling my voice getting smaller. Gosh, I hated this. I hated that I felt like a child again. I took off my jacket, and hung it on the peg right next to his. They were two identical black leather jackets, which Mom bought us years ago—she got them a couple of sizes bigger than we were at the time, in anticipation that we would eventually grow into them. Cole did, whereas I felt like I still hadn’t.

Cole let out a long and harsh breath, and gave me a scan head to toe. “You’ve seen better days.” He commented eventually, a subtle amusement in his tone. “Even for you, this is a bit excessive…” He gingerly lifted my right wrist, and got a good look at my forearm, all cut up.

You don’t say. I wanted to retort, but didn’t. “What are you doing in Philly?” I asked as I retracted my hand.

Cole raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”

Maybe not. “I’d probably know eventually, wouldn’t I?” I said.

He scratched his chin, frowning. “You know what this means, right? You know where we’re going?”

“Look, if I could just find Mom and Harry…” I began, but he raised his hand and stopped me.

“No,” He snapped, “We don’t have that kind of time. My assignment here is done. I’m being extracted at midnight, which is in less than four hours, and if you think I’d let you out running into the wild and being hauled into a camp again, you’d have another thought coming.”

Choose me. I remembered the subtext of what Cole said that night when he left home, and now it was ringing in a different tone. Now I don’t have a choice.

“All right.” I sighed. “Whatever you say.”

He frowned deeper. But it took him a while to say something. “Look, I know the last time you came with me, it didn’t end so well, but things are turning around.” He said, palms down, pacifying. “I promise, just stick it out a few months.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

He bit his lip. “I just do. Trust me.” He said, then gave me a tight smile, “Tell you what, I’ll go get us something to eat, and you clearly need a shower.” He took off his glasses, grabbed the keys, then, as if remembered something, added with a grin, “Do not, drown in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

Before he could open the door, though, I stopped him. “Cole,” I began, but didn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah?” He prompted.

“Have we...” I caught myself just for a moment. What am I doing? “...have we ever been to Virginia Beach?”

Because that…memory? was so vivid, that I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, calling me at every moment I so much as allowed my mind to idle for a second. But it also had that bright glare around it, like it didn’t really belong to me, like I was seeing it through a mirror, into a different dimension where we were all happier people.

Cole was there, looking exactly like how he was now, but Claire was also there, and that didn’t make any sense…

“No…?” Cole said, “We lived in Wilmington. We went to Wrightsville, remember?”

Of course I do, but… I shook my head. “It’s just… I kept seeing this…memory, that we were there, and Claire was there, too…”

Cole pressed his lips tight. I know mentioning Claire’s name would probably put him on edge, but it’s not like I have other people to talk about her with anyway. A part of me wanted to be a bit mean about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t have the strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, voice rigid. “Just go take your shower. I’ll be back with the food.”

And he left, leaving me alone in his white and bare apartment.

I still couldn’t be sure that it was a good idea coming here. If I’m being honest with myself, it wasn’t even about my negative view on the League, or what it had turned my brother into, but that…I’m not sure how to be his brother anymore. I’m not even sure that he needs a brother.

Hell. Looking around this place, I got the feeling that a brother wasn’t the only thing he didn’t need. But then again, knowing how Cole kept his room, it was maybe a good thing that he had so few belongings here. This place…it didn’t even feel like someone actually live here; there were so few things breaking the white of the walls, it was almost glaring to my eyes.

I first went to check his bed, to see if he still has that weird habit—falling asleep with cigarettes still in his hand. His bedsheet looked clean enough; nothing charred. No ashtray, either. Maybe he quit.

Satisfied, I went to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pants from his closet, and dived into the pressurized water in his shower.

I can’t remember when was the last time I had running water. Probably…when I was in the League’s safe house? Gosh. My skin is so filthy, the water only started running clean after a good ten minutes of scrubbing, and I was scrubbing hard.

I was extra careful when I cleaned my arms, though. Not particularly because I was scared of pain, but more that I didn’t want to hurt this…person who might share this unfortunate connection with me, however low the chance might be. I didn’t want to make her suffer even more—somehow, I knew it was a her, for reasons I couldn’t quite put into words.

When I got out of the shower, I felt like my entire body had been turned inside out. My skin was glowing pink against the white tiling of Cole’s bathroom. He is an inch or two taller than me—which was sore to admit, but hey, I went through puberty in a lot worse condition than he did—so his pants hung a little too long around my ankles.

Then I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror. Damn, I looked awful. The dark shadows under my eyes were so purple, they looked almost black. Not to mention the countless scratches and bruises. There was a new one on my left cheek, just above the jawline. Whether it was mine or hers, I didn’t know.

Just as I threw the towel over my head, and started rubbing the water away from my hair, I heard it—siren. It began from a distance, a low wailing, but it was enough to set every hair on my back on its end. As I flew out of Cole’s shower, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the window side, the siren got closer—and multiplied. The sound of them were like a harmony from hell.

Should I run? Should I stay?

I should run.

Even though they might not be coming for me, I knew better than to push my luck—it hadn’t really been on my side recently, and that woman who looked at me a second too long when I got in the building was probably proving me right. I threw the apartment door open, and on a second thought, ran for the roof instead of the ground floor.

I can reconvene with Cole later. I need to stay out of sight now. Cole’s a smart guy, he knows what to do in a situation like this.

It had started raining. I tripped on a mossy patch on the rooftop, and almost broke my jaw, but I stood up and kept running. I pushed myself over the ledge of the next building, and sprinted for the fire escape on the far end. The sound of the first bullet fired almost made me lose my bearing when I lowered myself onto the metal shaft.

They are on the other side. There were two fully populated buildings between me and those bullets, and they were firing at someone else—which means I’m not who they’re after. These are all good news.

Right?

Since when had I been that lucky after I turned twelve?

I pulled the hood of the jacket over my head, and dove into the shadow of the next alley. The gunfire had stopped, which meant that they probably got whoever they were after. I took the long way around the block, trying to get a hang of the situation, getting an idea of where I could find Cole without being spotted—

Oh, I found him alright.

Fuck. No. Fuck.

I only caught sight of him for a second before they slammed the back of that van shut, and in that brief second, he looked up, and he saw me.

No.

Christ. No. I… I got him caught. I did… I did this… Why didn’t I warn him? Why didn’t I go to him as soon as I heard the siren?

What have I done?

If you’re caught, you’re disavowed. I still remembered that phrase like it was etched into my skull. If anything encapsulates what I hate about the League the most, this is it. And now, Cole is going to be another casualty under that cold hard rule. The thought almost made my knees buckled, but instead of crashing down, I up and ran.

I ran. From this nightmare of my own making.

+++

Ruby

“Ruby!”

The scream came before the punch could land. I didn’t register what was happening in that first moment, not until the blood was dripping down my elbows, and staining the blue mats under us.

“Go to the infirmary!” Coach Johnson ordered, and I gladly obeyed. I could hear the whispering judgements forming even before I left the training room—what was that? What’s wrong with her? Where did those come from?

I knew exactly where they came from.

If Chubs was here, he’d likely yell at me for not getting these wounds taken care of immediately, but I simply…couldn’t. I ran for the shower stall, being careful not to stain the curtain, and turn on the tap.

With the water pouring out the showerhead, steaming up every bit of air around me, blurring my vision, I finally let the tears fall.

My arms didn’t hurt that much. At least, not as much as my heart. The bruises were bearable—who doesn’t get those occasionally living in the wild? I got one every other day even just from the training. But these cuts…he was in danger. Maybe he only got away with it within an inch of his life.

The only consolation I had was that I wasn’t mortally wounded, which meant he wasn’t, either. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret my decision of letting him go every second of every day.

If I did that to protect him, all these wounds and bruises only proved how wrong I was, how in vain my suffering had been.

“Ruby?” Cate’s voice.

I swallowed hard before answering. “Yes?”

“Are you all right?” She asked, standing outside of my stall.

“Yes.” I lied.

“Coach Johnson said you were hurt—” She didn’t buy it. “Look, if you don’t want to go to the infirmary, I can take a look—”

“I’m fine.” I cut her off. The timer on the tap beeped, warning me that the water would start running cold. My blood was dripping down from my fingers, dropping into the shallow water on the concrete floor like roses blooming in the snow.

“Ruby, I can see the blood.” Cate said dryly, then softer, coaxing. “Come out, please. Let me dress your wounds.”

Only if I could just close my eyes, and pretend for a second that the person who was waiting for me with antiseptic was Chubs, not Cate. If only I could pretend that these wounds were mine, not of the boy that I dreamt of every night for the past few months.

If only I could pretend that they were here with me, or that I wasn’t here at all.

I sighed, and brushed the curtain open. To Cate’s credit, she didn’t flinch at the sight of me. “Oh, Ruby…” She said with a tone like I was a stray cat ready to be put down. She reached out, and gingerly lifted my hand to get a better look at my arm.

“Press on it.” She handed me a towel, and sat down on the bench before patting the empty space beside her, motioning for me to join her.

I did as she said as she tore open a paper package. “This is going to hurt a little…” She gently dabbed the fabric square on my wounds, and I hissed out of reflex. I hated this. I hated showing her my weakness, and I guessed, in a weird way, she understood that. She didn’t comment on any of it, only continued to wrap my arms up in silence.

“There.” When she’s done, both of my forearms were wrapped entirely in gauzes.

“Th…thank you.” I managed to choke out.

She gave me a tender smile. “Don’t mention it.” She stood up, collecting the empty packages off the bench, and turned to leave.

Before she was out of the door, however, she turned around, and said, “You know, you get those wounds together, and you heal together, too.” She paused for a second, “You’re…not entirely helpless in this situation.”

Ten minutes after she left, I was still sitting on that bench, pondering her words. I didn’t even know what she said was true, but if it was, it meant that when I took care of myself, I took care of him, too. That, somehow, didn’t seem so bad.

I wondered how Cate knew that. She and Rob were clearly not soulmates, and I didn’t even know why she would want to date him, even without considering that fact. Rob—ruthless, arrogant, hateful—was everything opposite to what she seemed to hold dear.

But then again, she probably didn’t understand why someone would find their soulmate only to let them go on their own.

That day when I let Liam go, I made a decision that I would be whoever the League wants me to be, and make it so that they wouldn’t miss him. And for the longest time, I had kept to that promise. But not today, not now.

I just want to be myself again, even if it’s just for a moment.

So I brushed open the curtain to the stall, and allowed myself to be vulnerable again, for everyone and no one to see.

+++

His eyes traveled from my face to where the water had collected on my chest, and I raised my arms just that much higher.

His mouth half-opened for what I was sure to be a snide remark, but whatever it was never managed to pass his lips. His face froze, brows drew together, and he reached out. Before I could shift away—to where though, I had no idea; my back was already against the wall—he grabbed my wrist, and lifted my arm.

“It was you.” Cole said with a tone of half astonishment, half…anger?

“What was?” I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide how much I felt like a kid being caught red-handed, stealing candy bars.

He threw me a “really?” look. “Don’t insult my intelligence.” He snapped, “These are Liam’s, aren’t they?”

I almost asked “how do you know”, but that would confirm his suspicion. “What makes you say that?” I asked instead.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not playing games with you.” He huffed, “Soulmates should stick together. What were you thinking sending him out into the wild? Do you have any idea how dangerous he is to you? Or you to him? The poor bastard doesn’t even know you exist!”

“And as long as I stay in the League, that fact shall remain.” I said, more resolute and calmer than I thought possible.

He blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Look, I don’t care what kind of sainthood complex you have going on, I’m telling you—you are not doing either of you any favors, and if you think this is somehow a good idea, I beg you, think again, because you definitely look smarter than this.”

“What do you know?” I retorted, finally couldn’t keep the lid on my anger anymore. “Do you have any idea how much he hates it here? How hard he was trying to avoid this place before you drag him into this mess?”

Cole really laughed. “You think I don’t know?” He raised an eyebrow at me, and I met his glare head on. “I was the one that let him go when he got away that first time.” He tried to brush his hair back with his hand, but it gave out a weird flex before he could reach his head. “And I’ve seen enough soulmates pairs in my life to know that I never want one. Have you any idea what would happen to him if you were injured when he was on the run? Soulmates stick together so they don’t double their chances on dying, but I guess no one ever set your logic straight, did they?”

My head was so flushed with anger that I actually let him finished.

“Go find him.” Cole snapped. “And for Christ’s sake, stay together this time.”

+++

Liam

“I didn’t need freedom; I needed you!” I half-screamed, trying to get the frustration out past the chaos raging in my head. How could I—? How could she—? What the hell—?

On the receiving end of my scream, Ruby’s face was painted with grief, lined with tears that almost made my anger buckle. Almost.

“Did you just…not want to be with me anymore?” Facing her silence, my pain came out softer eventually. Please, just tell me, and I will leave you alone.

“No…” She choked out. “I… I was wrong.” She swallowed hard before continuing, and despite the anger still roaming my vein, I wanted to reach out and touch her. “We should…we should stay together. I knew I couldn’t bear to see you with the League, see them take away all the good in you that I love…”

“Is that how you think of me?” I snapped before I realized what I was doing, “That I am so weak that the League is bound to break me?”

“No!” She shook her head violently, “No, I don’t think you are weak… If anything, I think you are much stronger than me. But I was weak.” She finally looked back at me, her green eyes gleaming in the dim light of this dust-covered room. “I’m so sorry.”

Before I could react to what she said—I didn’t even know what I was going to say or do—the sound of a gunshot broke every single thought clean out of my head.

Ruby was running before I could do anything about it. She pushed the door of the shop open, and another shot blew open the window on the outside, shattering the glass all over the floor.

“Ruby!” I shouted as I dodged, crouching with my hands over my ears, but she was already up and running again, out of the door and behind the woman that was escaping the scene—with a gun in her hands.

“Ruby, stop!” I shouted again, got on my feet to catch her, but I never manage. I skidded on the broken glass, and fell, hands first, into the shards.

I heard her hiss. She stopped dead on her way, and whirled around to find me on the floor, holding my right hand on my laps, pressing it against the fabric of my jeans to try and stop the bleeding.

The blood was dripping down to her fingers. As she walked slowly towards me, the red, looking almost black, dropped on the dust-covered floor, leaving a spotting route, marking her path. When she knelt down beside me, finally close enough to touch me, I found that she was smiling. A totally mirthless, wry and painful smile.

“Give me your hand.” She said softly, almost like a whisper.

“You should treat yours first.” I said, trying to catch her hand, to see how much of a damage I’d done.

“We only need to treat one of us.” She let out a small breath, almost like something caught there. “We get them together, and we heal them together, too.”

That, somehow, broke through all the mess in my head and reached my mind. I let her take my arm, and carefully wrap her scarf on my hand, all the while her words played on repeat in my head.

We get them together, and we heal them together, too.

When she was done wrapping my hand up, the wounds on her hand stopped bleeding, too. I didn’t know why—I wasn’t even completely over that anger or frustration—but when she placed her hand in mine, a tender “there” escaping her lips, all I wanted to do was kiss her.

Instead, I gently enveloped my fingers around her hand. “There.” I said, pressing my good hand over hers.

And we stayed in that silent, that touch, just a little while longer.

+++

#tdm #the darkest minds #ruby daly #Liam Stewart #rubiam #soulmate AU #request #fanfic #writing #Cole Stewart #cate connor

[keity-devil]

The Little One - Chapter 5.

--

"Hey Morro! I made something for you. Morro?" The room Cole entered was empty. "Huh, where- Oh! Kai, yes. I forgot."

When he reached the Fire Master's bedroom door, it was cracked open. He discreetly stuck his head inside. Inside was Kai on the edge of the bed, with a picture in his hand, a broken frame, and shards of glass in the small trash can in the corner of the room.

"What happened here? Where's Morro?"

Kai sighed heavily. "He dropped the picture with me and Nya.. and... I started.. I yelled at him."

"WHAT!?" He felt like he had been hit with a wall over his head. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional!"

"I know I know.."

"No. You don't know. You were angry and you unloaded on him. I understand your sadness.. but he's a child. I know you may not like his return among us, but seriously..." Breathe, exhale. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know... Maybe with Jay?"

"Jay's gone to his parents. That means.. Come with me. We need to tell the rest. We need to find him!"

Kai did not comment, being now calmly aware that he had made a serious mistake again. Unconscious, actually. Cole had called them all, asking first if the little one was with one of them. Receiving a negative response back, he told them what happend. When Wu heard that Morro could not be found, his face turned pale, asking the kid to be found. They looked for him in the Monastery, nothing. Pixal quickly called after them, showing them to the surveillance cameras that Morro had run down the stairs down the mountain, crying. They watched the filming almost terrified, quickly thanking Pixal, running to look for him.

"It could be anywhere!" Lloyd said. He was worried too. He put aside his little dislike of Morro, knowing he was just a child now. "We have nothing to track him!"

"I think I found him." Zane heard Pixal's voice. "It's on the nearby pontoon."

"Affirmative. Guys, Pixal found him. He's on the nearby pontoon."

"How did he get there?!" Kai asked in surprise.

"I don't think that matters now, Kai." Zane told him.

They reached the pontoon quickly. Cole had seen the child lying on the cold wood.

"Morro!" He run agitated. He put his hands on the little one, cold, trembling. "We have to get him out of here!" He returned to the rest worried about the child. "It's cold and shaking terribly." He informed the rest, taking Morro in his arms.

Kai approaches them. "Wait, give it to me."  He spoke in a calm but serious tone, with a small wave of care.

"Why? I say you've done enough, Kai."

"Cole, I can warm him up with my powers until we get to the Monastery. Trust me, please.."

Cole looked at him for a moment, after at the child trembling in his arms. "Fine." He had given it to him. "Take care."

"I have." Kai held him carefully. It was so light... and cold. He had slowly begun to use his power, warming him.

The way back was silent. No one said a word. When they arrived, Kai went straight to Morro's room. He put him to bed, wrapping him up with a blanket. He didn't tremble so much, not at all.

"I screwed up."

Kai looked at him one last time, leaving. When he returned to the rest, Wu waited them with a serious, disappointed look.

"Can I know the reason for my son running from the Monastery in tears?"

"YOUR SON!?!" They all exclaimed in pure shock.

Wu sighed, knowing that he had let this information slip away too soon. "Yes, my son. I adopted Morro many.. many years ago... and I never told him."

Lloyd looked at him in terror, his wide green eyes in shock. He looked at his mother. "It's true?!"

Misako approved slowly. "It is.. I found out recently too. Wu has been keeping this a secret for a long time. Lloyd.. Morro is your cousin... adoptive, but he is."

"He's part of the family now." Wu added.

"Why didn't you tell him, Master?" Zane asked.

"Because he doesn't remember anything. I'd like to give him time to adjust, because there's a chance he'll remember something. I still don't know how he got here and in this state." Wu explains.

"I'd like to know more, but I think I need some air, I'm sorry.." Lloyd apologized as he left.

Too much information out of the blue, not so much... but finding out that the former ghost who possessed him is his cousin.. he felt a little suffocated.

He climbs slowly to the roof. The cool air calmed him, his heart calmed. He brought his knees to his chest, taking them in his arms, eyes looking at the sky that was still blue.

"Is it a good or bad thing that he's part of the family? Or that he's reappeared.. and he's alive.. What to do- " A squel sound interrupted him, looking to his left.. Someone was trying to climb on the roof. "Morro..?"

The called one raised his head in plain sight, smiling weakly. "Hi! I saw you sitting here alone and- agh, I thought I'd... come too?" Morro was about to say something, but his foot slipped.

"Morro!" Lloyd hurried to him, catch him and placing the kid beside him. "It's dangerous to climb here! You could be seriously injured!"

"I'm sorry..." He looked down. "I wanted to know why you're sad.. that's how you looked like."

"Why?"

"You looked sad.. I'm sorry. If you want.. I can leave."

"No, no.. it's okay.. When did you wake up?"

"When the bedroom door closed. I didn't leave the room until I heard the screaming stop. I saw you leave and I snuck out slowly out. And you knew the rest."

Lloyd thought a little. Morro had come to him willingly. He wanted to know what had happened to him, what was bothering him.

"May I ask you a question?..." The brunette asked slowly.

Lloyd looked at him for a moment. "Of course."

"W-why do you hate me...? Did I do something really bad in the past? What did I do to you? Was I really a bad person??" His eyes were wide and he seemed to be waiting for the order to cry.

The blonde looked at him in surprise. Lloyd didn't expect these questions. Did the little one really ask that? Had Lloyd been too obvious that he couldn't stand him much and that he had done anything to him in the past? After these questions... he was convinced that yes.

"Morro... I.." The words had stopped. He had no idea how to express himself how to take him.. he was too small.. how he would react if he told him that he possessed him for the title of Green Ninja, that he was going to kill his friends and that he brought the Cursed Queen to Ninjago, an entire army of ghosts and cursed an entire village? He would be terrorized of himself...

Caught in his thoughts, Morro had taken Lloyd's hands in his. The little one was still afraid of him, but he was desperate to find out the truth.

"Please tell me the truth and not lies.. I felt the first time I met you that I did something to you.. that we have a connection or something.. Maybe I'm too small and you're afraid of how I'll take it, but I want to know, so I know how to make things better.. "

Lloyd felt they were truth words, but it was hard for him to speak. He was trying to find a solution, a way to tell the boy at least some of the truth.

"Okay. But... I can't tell you everything, my heart won't let me.. I promise I'll do it when you grow up."

Morro approves. "It's ok! Just tell me..!"

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "You possessed me." He felt Morro's hands no longer hold his. He opened his eyes, looking at a pale Morro, eyes in disbelief at what he had just heard. "Morro?..."

"I-i-is not possible... i-isn't it ...? I have to be d-dead to do this- "

"You perish, Morro.. you came back as a ghost and then you possessed me." The blonde said softly and calmly.

The tiny man's eyes filled with tears. He took his hands next to the blond's, putting them on his head. His head fell down, black hair blocking his face for the Chosen One. Tears hitting the tile of the Monastery.

"Morro...?!" Lloyd felt a strange worry in him, but he didn't move.

Memories of the time of possession appeared quickly, briefly, stingingly in Morro's mind, which had begun to tremble. His eyes closed in pain, new memories hurting him. His fingers dug deep into his scalp. The body trembled as if it had been in the cold for hours.

"I didn't do that- No- NO- Stop!- Shut up- Shut up- Shut up!- SHUT UP!- "

"MORRO!" Hands gripped his shoulders tightly. "Calm down!!" Lloyd shouted at them authoritatively. "I knew I shouldn't have tell you anything..." He said breathlessly.

He could feel the limp body trembling madly between his palms, screams of tears in the background.

The brunette's eyes closed again, tears staining the pale face like a waterfall. Voices entered his ears, hearing only those. Echoing voices, cold and harsh, many and noisy. There was a scream, and the voices stopped. The stinging images were gone. His heart was pounding like a marathon, his eyes aching from the tears that still didn't stop. His ears ached, his body stung. His voice had muffled, breathing hard and seldom, quickly, seldom, quickly.

Lloyd looked at him with extreme concern. He was sure he would be shocked, scared... but he didn't expect a panic attack.

'I think I woke up his memories.. I woke up the past.. Oh FSM, please give him the strength to pass that.. I'm scared how he will react to the whole truth.. I don't risk, I won't tell him anything. Please calm down... come back.'

The little one felt his body no longer able to hold him, falling into Lloyd's arms. He was still conscious, but for how long? The blonde quickly took him close to him, holding tight. The tremble was still present.

"Breathe.. Breathe.. Everything is fine.. What was passed.. You are alive and well. Stop thinking.. Breathe.. Expired.."

Morro follows the instructions. After 5 minutes of breathing, expired and quiet, the little one recovered, not one hundred percent, but he recovered. His cheeks showed tears, tired red eyes. The body stopped shaking. Lloyd felt like he was holding a baby in his arms... it was too light. A phrase came to his mind, but now he was trying to undo it. He knew he had to get off the roof, they couldn't stay here. Lloyd took it better in his hands, trying to get up. Morro felt the movement, gripping the blonde's coat tightly.

"It's okay. I want to get off the roof. Trust me."

The little one was still holding on to the green coat, feeling how far he was from the roof tiles. Standing, he slowly approached the edge. He had taken a deep breath, holding the brunette tight, jumping to the ground. Morro squealed in fear, his heart skipping a beat with fear. His eyes widened as they were on the ground. Morro looked up at Lloyd, who was looking in the eye.

Forest green eyes with a small light gray wave now looked at the green eyes alive emeralds.

"Let's take you to your bed."

The blonde didn't put him down, on the contrary, he carried him to the little boy's bed. Morro quickly took one of the pillows in his arms. Lloyd sat on the edge, looking at him.

'I don't even want to imagine what might come to your mind now...'

"C-can.. can Jay come here..?"

"Jay isn't here, he's visiting his parents."

"O-oh.." He looked down.

"But why do you ask about him?"

"He said I could come to him when I felt sad or lost.."

"Do you feel that way now?" Morro approves. "Try to get some sleep. I'm sure Jay will be here when you wake up." He had smiled at him. Lloyd had no idea at this time how to help Morro.

#green cousins #thelittleoneau #thelittleone #ninjago #morro #ninjago morro #angst #lloyd #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #morro wu #Lloyd Garmadon #green #kai #cole #wu #zane #pixal #jay mention #my written #cry #little child #panic attack #dead #possesion

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: That’s right! I’m starting a new (old if you ask the fellas in Ao3 lmao) AWAE series!! I was waiting to have enough chapters and now that day is finally here! I hope you like it -Danny

Words: 3,961

Next Chapter

Chapter One: Make Your Own Decision.

'Two souls don't find each other

                                      by simple accident.'

Gilbert wasn't a morning person.

Medical school was a pain in the ass, he didn't need to say that to anyone– He didn't like to complain at all if he was honest, after all, it was thanks to school that he was going to become a doctor. Still, he missed the lazy mornings on his bed, no worries in the world apart from what his father would make for breakfast.

That was years ago, though. Now he was an adult (or the closest thing to it, anyway) and he had bills to pay, he didn't have to pay rent and that was certainly a good thing, Bash and Mary were a gift sent from heaven after his dad had died, but he still helped around their house, along with the schoolwork he worked on relentlessly while trying to ignore the uncertain future knocking on his door almost every day.

After all the sleepless nights pacing around the kitchen, lights on and coffee maker ready to go, memorizing things and finishing research papers, he's pretty sure this isn't exactly healthy, but if he's bound to have similar routines for the rest of his life, he might as well get used to it.

He tries not to think a lot about that, his future, that is. All around him friends start to settle down, move out to their own places, find love, travel, having adventures while he spends all his weekends locked in his room learning about a new subject that is just as thrilling as any date he could possibly have.

That's a lie, of course. He longs for a break, an excuse to run wild and free just one night.

Luckily for him, that opportunity comes this Friday.

___________________

Anne's in love with the early sunlight, that warm, clear light that slips through her window every morning to announce a new day with no mistakes in it yet was about to start.

She loves the quiet, how time slows down for her while she pours a second cup of tea for her morning readings before heading to school. She loves the muffled noises Diana and Cole make while getting up, letting her know she has to hurry if she wants to start her routine on time.

She's a simple young woman (a very new one at that, if she was honest) and the little things still manage to give her a thrill that parties or any kind of social interaction simply can't.

That's half a truth, of course. She misses the weekly reunions with her Highschool friends, the bike rides with Jerry, her old neighbor, whenever they needed someone to rant about stupid things and none of their friends was around to do so.

Despite all this, she is fine. Anne follows the path to her dream: to become a successful writer for all kinds of people, to tell the stories that people need most at the moments when all hope seems lost and love is scarce.

However, when her Highschool friends text her and Diana about a much-needed reunion, she didn't have to think twice before replying with 'Oh god, YES.'

___________________

The Orchard was fairly known for its homely 'aesthetic' as some would call it, which attracted the younger people that needed a break from their crazy student lives. The diner had originally belonged to Gilbert's dad, but when he passed away, it fell onto Gilbert's hands and him, not wanting to close the place that had so many memories of his childhood, decided to add Bash's name into the papers.

Their dads had been good friends most of their lives, and although Gilbert and Bash aren't the same age, he thinks of him as some kind of older brother who always helped him get through the hard times, especially right after his father was gone. It was only natural that Bash owned half of the diner, after all, he loved the place as much as Gilbert, for his father had worked there in the bar while Mr. Blythe served the costumers.

The two lousy boys had dedicated most of their free, youthful time, to run around the place like they owned it. Now that they did, it was pretty much the same, only that this time they run around placing food on the tables and scribbling people's orders.

After a few months of hectic confusion, Bash's mother practically forced them to hire more staff, since they had their hands full and Gilbert was breaking under the pressure that it was to keep the business going the same as his career.

They hired one of Gilbert's old friends and a few students that lived near the diner. Moody Spurgeon, Prissy Andrews, Charlie Sloane, and the Pauls (They weren't related, they just happened to be named Paul).

That Friday was the last before their winter break, so it was packed with tons of eager students wanting to eat their money away now that most of them were returning home for the holidays. This meant two wonderful things to Gilbert:

One, the diner was going great.

Two, he was getting the well-deserved sleep he'd been lacking for months.

Excluding that night, because that night he was going to get utterly shitfaced with Moody and company after their evening shift.

___________________

"I've never heard of that place before," Anne replied distractedly as she kept grabbing things from the table and putting them inside her bag.

"Students love that place, Ruby says they serve the best food and she's always there, but Jane says she's actually crushing on one of the waiters, though Ruby refuses to either confirm or deny..."

"Ruby's always crushing on someone, though," Cole replied. "If she's still going after all this time, the food must be worth it as much as any cute boy."

"I honestly don't care as long as there's enough room to sit and have a long, long chat with all of you," Anne smiled dreamily. "I've missed them so much! Even Josie– And you know how often she tends to get on my nerves!"

"You wouldn't be missing them so much if you could put the books down every once in a while to hang with us," Diana rolled her eyes. "Honestly Anne, it's a miracle you're not blind or wear glasses at all after all the hours you stay with your face glued to the pages."

"I'd look awful with glasses!" Anne grimaced. "I hope my eyesight stays the same for the rest of my life."

"Well then, take care of your eyes and take a break from those books. Leave your bag here, you won't need it," Cole grinned.

Anne's eyes landed on the bag laying on top of their table. That bag was used for one thing only: To carry as many books as possible in case she got bored, so she could read at any time, any place. Also to carry her keys and pads, but those weren't as important.

"But... what if the girls arrive late?"

"You can talk to us, or are we too boring for you now, Miss Literate?" Diana teased.

"You know that's not it," She rolled her eyes. "Okay, if you want I'll leave the books."

"Perfect," Cole clapped once and got up excitedly. "Let's go!"

___________________

"Gilbert, come back to earth and take this to table three, will you?" Charlie hissed, putting the plate in front of his nose and waking the boy abruptly.

"Sorry!" He jumped, walking hurriedly to said table.

When he got back, Charlie was still there, examining his face.

"Are you sure you want to go out, man? I can tell you're worn out, maybe you should take a–"

"No!" Gilbert growled. He cleared his throat and continued on a much lighter voice after noticing this. "I- Uh, I'll be fine. I'll sleep all I want tomorrow, but today I really want to go out, before you and the boys go back to your homes for Christmas."

Charlie nodded with uncertainty.

"Maybe you should change places with Bash? The kitchen might keep you alert instead of sitting here and wait for people to call you over."

"Yeah..."

"I'll get him," His friend decided, walking back to the kitchen.

Gilbert heard the entrance's bell ring and turned to see Ruby Gillis and a few other girls enter.

Ruby was a good and constant client. He was glad about Bash taking his place because he believed that Ruby had a crush on Moody, and the waiter always took her orders no matter the table she was in, he didn't have enough energy to watch them ogle at each other.

"You okay, Blythe?" Bash patted his back once he and Charlie reappeared behind him. "You're sure you want to go out? With that look, you're likely to scare all the ladies away instead of getting a date for our Christmas party."

"Very funny," Gilbert scoffed. "I'm fine, I just need to stay active."

Before either Bash or Charlie could reply, he rushed into the kitchen, missing the exact moment when three new costumers arrived at the place.

***

"I see why people love it here," Anne said. "I feel cozy just by looking at it!"

"Yeah," Cole agreed, frowning slightly. "We are going to a bar after this, aren't we?"

"Cole!" They replied.

"I'm just asking!" He exclaimed. "It's lovely and all, but I'm not spending my last weekend away from my maniac siblings eating a freaking burger."

"It's likely," Diana retorted. When she noticed Anne's eyes widening, she quickly added. "No one will force you to get drunk, I know you hate how... uhm– Well, how crazy you get."

"I love drunk Anne!" Cole laughed. "Last time I saw her we were playing truth or dare and she was dared to kiss one of my friends, but then I convinced Josie to change the dare and after that Anne grabbed me by the collar and whispered very loudly. 'Thank you Cole. I actually want to kiss you now' and when I reminded her I was gay, she retorted 'Oh, sorry Gay, I thought you were Cole' "

Diana and Cole chortled, Anne shook her head in horror.

"Drunk me is terrible!"

"No! Only her puns are."

"Can we just get a table, please?"

"Oh!" Diana grabbed her arm, pulling her to a distant corner. "They're here already!"

The next few hours passed way too fast. Anne, finally reunited with her best friends, felt as if she was finally coming back to life.

As Diana had predicted, they decided to go to a bar a few streets down the road from The Orchard. A place their waiter, a young man named Moody and who Anne suspected was the waiter Ruby had feelings for, had recommended to them, casually letting them know that he was going to be there after work with a few of his friends. Ruby practically dragged them to the bar as soon as they paid the bill.

"Bet Ruby ends up declaring her love to that waiter in less than an hour, and ends up spending the rest of the Holidays mourning because she scared him away," Josie whispered audibly to Jane and Anne. The former sniggered and nudged Josie's arm. Anne frowned worryingly towards her friend, really hoping that wasn't the case.

___________________

"Who's ready to lose all memories from whatever happens tonight?" Paul asked loudly over the music, placing a bunch of drinks in front of the group.

The boys answered by chugging down drink after drink, getting clumsier as time went by.

Gilbert was having a blast, most of his days he wishes he could go back to being a teenager, slightly more different than the one he was. One that wasn't all that quiet and reserved and bitter about his dad's fate.

He longed for his lost youth, where he would attend parties and go to prom looking sharp, accompanied by a pretty girl beside him. All those teams and clubs he had to leave to stay home and spend the last days of his father's life next to his bed, all those gatherings he missed with people from other places because he had to get the best grades so one day he could be a doctor, so he could save the people he loved... so he didn't have to live through the uncertainty and the uselessness again.

Tonight he was finally getting that, he could pretend he was still just a boy, a stupid boy who didn't know how to drink and most certainly would end up throwing up half his stomach out of his body, but a happy boy at least.

"You know," He yelled to no one in particular. "Did you know, that you guys are my best friends?"

The boys replied with words of appreciation, patting his back harshly. Charlie even hugged him.

"I mean it!" He continued. "These last few months have been shit. There, I said it. Shit."

"What you need," One of the Pauls said, he wasn't as drunk as Gilbert, but he was definitely almost there. "What you need is to get laid."

The boys erupted into mayhem, agreeing with Paul. All of them except for Gilbert.

He frowned, not understanding what they meant.

"I said I'm not tired," Gilbert shook his head, his whole body losing stability and crashing against Moody, who held him in place as if it was normal to lose your ground while sitting on a chair. "I don't need to lay in bed just yet."

"I meant sex," Paul retorted, chugging down half of what he had in his glass.

"Oh," Gilbert sat back, eyebrows raising as if he'd never thought about it before. "Well, that's different."

"You need a break," Charlie slurred. "Or is the good doctor too much of a saint to touch a strange girl?"

"I'm not," Gilbert huffed, drinking what was left of his drink. "I can have sex. I like sex!"

"But Gilbert, you've never had–" Moody started, but was soon cut off by Gilbert's sudden movement.

The young man stood up, leaning on the table and losing all the color on his face. The rest of the group moved away as Moody grabbed Gilbert by the shoulders and straightened him up.

"Gilbert?" He asked, slightly coming back to his senses.

"Bathroom," He said quietly.

"Alright," Moody gulped. "Be right back, guys. Gilbert needs a moment."

___________________

Anne spent the majority of the night talking with everyone, and the problem with that is that she gets thirsty when that happens. Which is a dangerous thing to be at a bar.

Still, Cole -what a great friend he was- made sure to always keep her glass full so she could take sip after sip without having to wait.

She knew she was far from sober when she found herself in the middle of an argument with Josie and Tillie about zodiac signs. Anne was talkative on the daily, but after a few drinks she was simply unstoppable- There was no soul on earth or heaven that could follow her train of thoughts, and right now she wasn't even sure she was following them herself.

"I have to pee," She said, interrupting her own story and sliding out of their booth to stand up.

"I'll go with you," Ruby said, impatient to have an excuse to stand up and look around for Moody, she'd barely touched her drink all night.

"Okay, but it's not like I need help or anything," Anne rolled her eyes, accidentally stepping on Tillie's foot. "Woops! Sorry, Tillie!"

Cole watched her along with Diana, both raising their glasses and making a silent toast for their friend. Anne was finally having fun after such a dull term and it was simply amusing watching her act so recklessly during her drunken state.

"Don't stay for too long Anne," Ruby warned her. "Last time you fell asleep inside the stall and Diana had to crawl underneath to get you out!"

"It wasn't my fault!" She replied loudly. "I hadn't slept at all that week, and the alcohol makes wonders to my insomnia."

"I think you've had enough for tonight as well," Ruby grinned. "I'll get you a cold glass of water once where back in our table, okay?"

Anne nodded, silently making her way into the girl's toilet. Since it was just one bathroom, Ruby had to stand outside, leaning on the sink and examining her reflection on the mirror. Two men, one dragging the other, walk past her in a rush and opened the boy's bathroom harshly, the one who'd been dragged quickly fell to his knees and started vomiting his guts out.

"Oh my god!" Ruby gasped, covering her mouth in horror. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," The guy said without turning to see her. "He doesn't drink this much often, that's all."

The young man stood up once he made sure Gilbert was doing fine on his own, not choking or anything, and turn to meet the blonde's eyes.

"Oh," His cheeks reddened. "Hi!"

"Moody!" She exclaimed happily. "You weren't lying, you came here after all!"

"Yeah," He smiled. "We wanted to give our buddy Gilbert a good night before we return home. Now I'm not so sure about it..." He grimaced at hearing his friend's grunts and gags.

"I'm with my friends as well, but I..." Ruby blushed lightly, even that she managed to make enchanting. "If you have time, we could seat together for a moment? Just the two of us?"

"Right now?" Moody asked in surprise.

"Well, no," Ruby peered over his shoulder at the boy's bathroom. "Not if you can't, I see your friend is feeling terrible..."

"He'll recover," Moody brushed it off. "He's studying to become a doctor, you know? I bet he'll see his way out now that the alcohol's out of his system"

"You're sure?" The girl inquired.

"Are you able right now?" Moody looked behind her to see the girl's door. "Were you waiting in line or is one of your friends there?"

"A friend, she's also wasted," Ruby said, pondering her options. "But... I guess if she managed to walk all the way here on her own... she can walk back just fine?"

Moody's smile widened.

"We better go get those drinks, then?"

"Sure!" Ruby exclaimed, holding Moody's wrist and dragging him back to the bar.

A minute after her friend had left, Anne walked out of the toilet, mid-conversation with a Ruby she didn't know was no longer there.

"... and the toilets here are so comfortable, I almost felt tempted to have a nap right there, but a promise is a promise– See, Ruby? I didn't stay for too long!" She looked up to find the spot empty, her confidence falling. "Or perhaps I did..?"

Lightly stumbling her way over to the sink, she focused on washing her hands before going back. Her reflection looked back at her and smiled happily, putting some strands of loose hair behind her ear and failing to notice the boy's door opening.

There was a small slate on her right with the words 'Wash your hands before you leave! :)' written with purple chalk that she found adorable. She picked it up to examine it further when a body clumsily crashed against her side.

"Woops!" The man said, not looking up. "Sorry."

Anne raised her brow for a second before turning her attention back to the slate.

Gilbert washed his face and hands, the world less blurry than before but still awfully intoxicated. Paul's comment came back to him and feeling the girl's presence behind his back he decided it was rather convenient.

"Excuse me," He asked, looking up and facing the girl's reflection. "Can I ask you something?"

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her, the man kept staring at the mirror instead of turning to face her, but she could sort of see his face under the dim lights looking back at her though, and since she was feeling rather chatty, she obliged.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Do I look like I need sex?"

Anne laughed.

"Dunno, why're you asking?"

"My life sucks," Gilbert shook his head casually. "And I'm about to have the worst hangover ever."

"That makes two of us, dude."

Gilbert tilted his head, turning to see her now, taking in her appearance.

"You would have sex with me?"

"Excuse me," Anne frowned. "I barely know you!"

"Yeah, but am I attractive?"

"It doesn't matter, I wouldn't have sex with a stranger."

"Very well, then imagine that I'm not a stranger," Gilbert rolled his eyes, having to hold on to the corner of the sink so as not to lose his balance. "Would you do it?"

Anne started to imagine, she imagined a great deal so she could give a precise answer.

"Well, I'd have to know your medical records cause I don't wanna get any diseases, and then I'd have to find you likable because looks aren't everything– and if I'm having sex with you I probably want something that lasts–"

"Nevermind," Gilbert snorted. "I think we're both better if we don't have anything at all."

"Why's that?" Anne asked irritatedly, this guy was making no sense to her.

"You overthink a lot and I already do that way too much for my own good," Gilbert explained.

"Oh, so you'd rather take advantage of a dumb girl, is that what you're saying?"

"That's what you're saying," He scoffed. "I only asked if you'd have sex with me in a hypothetical scenario but you rambled on with the rest, Carrots."

"I was giving an honest reply," She stated. "And don't call me, Carrots. You sound like a child."

Gilbert laughed loudly at that.

"Better a child than a grumpy librarian," He walked up to her, grabbed a strand of her hair and pulled lightly, with a taunting voice, he added. "Carrots."

Anne's fingers gripped the slate harder than ever as she flung it to the man's head. It was small and thin, so it didn't cause severe damage, but the slate broke in half with a nasty 'crack' that pleased her a bit too much.

"How dare you!" She yelled in drunk anger. "I don't know who the hell you are, but I'm certain no one would have sex with a jerk!"

She stormed off, giving Gilbert no opportunity to apologize. Although he didn't seem to mind that much at the moment, the things around him spun once more and he had to return to the toilet to vomit what was left of his evening drinks, dreading the following morning.

___________________

Anne, Cole, and Diana returned home with rosy cheeks and loud laughter surrounding them. The trio intoxicated in happiness and many, many margaritas and shots.

"Best night ever!" Anne yelled as she let herself fall on the couch, kicking off her shoes.

"Told you it was going to be fun!" Diana grinned, laying beside her.

"My favorite part was to find Ruby making out with the waiter when I went to ask for the check," Cole cackled. "No wonder why she abandoned you in the bathroom!"

"Don't even tell me about it, I had the most unpleasant encounter–"

"Oh my god!" Diana sat up, looking at her phone with wide eyes. "It's four in the morning! We have to be back in Avonlea in less than eight hours!"

Cole and Anne groaned.

"Can't we have a nap first? We packed all of our things already!" Anne whined.

"Please?" Cole fell on the couch opposite to them. "I'm exhausted!"

"Fine..." Diana sighed. "But I'm certain my mom's gonna kill me for arriving late."

"What can she do? Forbid you to go to their Christmas dinner?" Cole chuckled. "Just sleep, Diana."

"Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight!"

"Sweet dreams," Anne mumbled, half-asleep.

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Next Chapter –––––––––––>

Add yourself to our taglist :)

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #shirbert fanfic #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #Gilbert Blythe #shirbert #awae #DV fic

[aweebwrites]

Move on Dragons Ch20

“Jay!” Cole’s furious yell echoed from the Bounty and said half serpentine, part dragon and part human peaked his head into their room where Cole was laying in bed, glaring up at the ceiling, unable to move.

Jay burst out laughing then, falling over on the ground and clutching his stomach as the paralyzed Cole swore up a storm.

“Easy on those f-bombs there…” Kai slurred nearby- then blinked. “Jay you mother-”

“That’s enough.” Zane cut Kai off as he walked in, glancing down at Jay who was laughing uncontrollably on the ground with an unimpressed expression. “Jay, I thought we discussed no pranks with your venom.” He scolded, crossing his arms.

“Lighten up Zane. I didn’t even use much- or bite them this time.” Jay grinned as he wiped his tears of laughter away, sitting up now with his tail pooled in his lap.

“That might be true but you still broke a rule. You’ll get to mop the deck today.” Zane told him and Jay sputtered while Cole laughed, slowly getting back his movement.

“Serves you right!” He grinned, slowly working more movement into his hand.

“Zane, come on! It’s cold out there! Worse with water!” Jay whined. “I might start hibernating on the spot!” He pointed out.

“Nice try Jay but Serpentine, Dragons nor humans hibernate in the winter- and it’s only fall anyway. Oh and Rux and Nix made a muddy mess out there on their visit last night so make sure the deck is spotless.” Zane told him as he headed out and Jay pouts, glaring at his lap.

“Who made him mom of the team again?” Jay asked, looking towards Cole as he sat up slowly, Kai still getting movement in his limbs.

“Someone had to be. Sensei Wu isn’t here as yet and aside from Nya and Pixal, Zane’s the only other one with his head set on right. But they’re managing dragon reports across Ninjago so that leaves Zane to babysit.” Cole says as he rolled his shoulders then hung his feet off the bed, not about to get up just yet.

“Ugh. He’s been gone for a solid five months now. Five! Maybe we should have been the ones to track down Lord Garmadon. I bet it would have been quicker.” Jay says as he flopped back on the ground on his back with his arm spread out.

“I don’t know about that… I mean, we’ve been active after the whole Oni fiasco and we haven’t seen any signs of him being around.” Kai says as he flicked his tail back and forth to shake more of his paralysis. “Plus, I think it’s a bit personal. You know, like family matters. Sensei will find him. Eventually, but he will.” He shrugged.

“Jay!” Zane called from the outside and Kai huffed.

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Jay grumbled as he got up.

____

Lloyd slowed then stopped outside of the Dragon Tower from where he had been doing his usual morning run, pushing himself up on his hind legs as he spotted both elders just outside, discussing something. Wu had actually gone out to explore Ninjago yesterday and to collect a few things from Ninjago’s wildlife outside of the labyrinth. Wu specializes in herbs and medication- which they had run out of a long time ago actually. It was just something short of a miracle why no-dragon needed medical care. But Wu liked to be prepared, so he had accepted lessons to understand written Ninjagan language- which he says, was rather similar to theirs- and had taken the time to read as much as he could about Ninjagan Fauna and Flora via a projector, as books were far too tiny for him to read from.

He wasn’t alone in his lessons however. Any dragon who was interested came for lessons, as they have come across several signs in their language they weren’t able to properly decipher. In fact, the dragons were getting along very well with Ninjagans, several of them already making friends with the locals. They found children particularly interesting and are protective of them. Though they were dragons still and they sometimes got themselves into trouble, which was why Nya and Pixal opened a line specifically for incidents like that where they could repair something they broke or get them out of a sticky situation. That aside, he found it strange that no-one heard him returning- it’s next to impossible to miss those heavy wing beats from the distance they were. He walked towards them as Little G skittered up his neck to nest into his hair, his shiny red eyes just as curious as Lloyd’s.

“Ah. Lloyd. Good morning.” Wu greeted once he spotted him.

“Morning to you too, Dad.” Lloyd says with a nod then spotted the large bag Wu had fashioned all but overflowing with common- and rare- plants. “Did you find everything you need?” He asked and Wu nods once.

“And then some. This world has rather curious and awing wildlife.” Wu told him then reached into his bag. “These are especially curious. Sunny flowers. Their energy are the exact same as the sun.” He says, pulling out a paw full of sunny flowers that floated just above his paw itself.

“Yeah, they are. Ninjago’s wildlife is pretty but also pretty dangerous to us.” Lloyd told them, his tail swishing side to side. “It’s kinda the reason why most of our population built a city in the middle of the desert.” He shrugged.

“These could prove quite useful for our world. Especially during winter.” Garmadad rumbled as he took a blue one. “These could keep us stationed at the Mountain all year round…” He says, feeling the heat of them warming his paws.

“My thoughts exactly.” Wu nods at his brother. “I’ve managed to gather some seeds. Perhaps once our world’s air is breathable once more we can integrate some of Ninjago’s flora into our world. After all, by then, the plants we had previously known may cease to exist or evolve into something very different…” He spoke as he gathered the flowers again.

“But will our flora be able to survive in your world? They were tailored for ours after all…” Lloyd pointed out.

“That is true, but we won’t know for sure until we try.” Garmadad told him, reaching a warm paw down to gently brush his cheek and Lloyd couldn’t stop his purr at the contact.

Little G couldn’t stop his grumbling hiss either, slipping down to coil himself around his neck jealously.

“Come on, there’s no need to get all jealous.” Lloyd laughed, running the back of his finger over his father’s head.

“It’s alright.” Garmadad huffed, amused. “Ah. Is Jay awake yet? Nix has been restless for most of the night without him. I suppose he’s too young to understand that Jay can’t always be with him- even if this is the first night in months he’s slept away from him.” He murmured and Lloyd subconsciously looked towards where the Bounty was parked.

“I’m sure he is by now.” He told the large black dragon thoughtfully. “I can probably take them back to the ship for a little while. We can bring them back when we’re done with our morning routine.” He offered, looking up at him.

“I’ll come with you.” Garmadad decided, opening his wings in preparation to fly back up to the top of the tower. “It’s a certain someone’s turn to watch over the tower anyway.” He huffed, playfully smacking Wu with his wing.

“I’m well aware of that, brother.” Wu says dryly, using a paw to lower his wing from his face. “And I have to make medicine anyway.” He added in the same tone as Garmadad before flying off.

The latter chuckled then flew off behind him too. Lloyd watched them as they did. They had a really good relationship with each other, huh.

“Is that what you and uncle Wu were like? Before you turned evil?” Lloyd asked quietly, stroking the shiny black dragon’s head still.

He only gave a low, barely audible chitter but Lloyd didn’t need to understand him to know he was telling him that they were like that… And that he missed it…

___

Jay grumbled as he mopped the deck, needing to mop extra hard to get out all the muddy paw prints off the deck so Zane won’t be on his ass. He sighed once he finally finished, dropping the mop in the bucket.

“Jeeze. Zane’s such a-”

“He’s such a what?” Jay jolted, landing on all fours with his back arched and electricity building along the column of short horns that ran down his back to the tip of his horned tail.

He relaxed, releasing a huge sigh to see Nya there.

“I think I just lost 10 years off my life.” He breathed out as he got to his feet again.

“That’ll teach you a lesson for talking behind Zane’s back.” She smirked then looked up once heavy wing beats sounded. “Looks like we have visitors.” She says, just as the large black dragon came into view.

“Hey. I’d invite you all to breakfast but we’ve already eaten and I don’t think we have enough to feed you guys.” Nya says with a smirk as they landed, the others joining her soon after.

“Don’t worry about it. We already grabbed a bite.” Mist says, waving her wings dismissively.

An excited chirp interrupted anyone from saying anything and Jay found himself being pinned by the rather heavy baby dragon who was rubbing up against him insistently.

“Hey Nix, missed you too…” Jay says breathlessly, said dragon placing most of his weight against his chest.

“Getting him to sleep without you last night was a nightmare.” Wisp murmured around a yawn, his head resting heavily against the ship.

The other dragons gave tired murmurs of agreement.

“Did you try using lightning?” Jay asked his dragon self, sitting up and hugging the wiggly dragon close.

“I tried that for hours. He’s taken too strong of a liking to you to be fooled by me.” Wisp rumbled, eyes blinking slowly.

“You guys should probably take a nap then. We moved the Bounty into the labyrinth’s space so you don’t have to worry about becoming human whenever you visit.” Kai says as he lowered to all fours then spread his wings and flew up, perching on Garmadad’s nose where Lloyd already was, giving a happy purr once he reached a paw up to gently stroke the side of his face.

“Good luck getting him to leave now.” Blaze huffed, watching Nix as he settled down in Jay’s arms. “He might not understand most of what we’re saying but he knows how tones.” He says as he straightened then stretched.

“Oh boy.” Jay huffed, not minding that at all, getting attached as he had to the dragonling.

“Sit tight little guy. I’ll get my game real quick. I’ve gotten some new ones I know you’ll love.” Jay told Nix as he set him down and Nix perked up, his chubby tail wagging quickly as he shifted restlessly.

With that, Jay headed down below deck to fetch the device.

“I’ll take up that nap offer.” Rocky murmured as he walked away from the ship to a nearby spot, huffing as he dropped down on the ground.

“Sounds good.” Shard hummed as he too followed along with everyone but Garmadad and Lloydie.

“Rux looks like he could use a nap himself.” Cole chuckled, watching the dragonling blink at him slowly from his place occupying his lap.

“Well, he did have to work just as hard as the rest of us to get Nix to sleep.” Lloydie huffed as he rested his head against his father’s side, a low rumbling purr leaving him as a large black wing draped over him, both of them moving to lay on their stomachs just beside the ship.

“Poor guy. A brother’s work is never done, huh?” Cole murmured softly, stroking along Rux’s side as he began to slowly drift off.

“It never is.” Kai hummed then glanced at Lloyd. “Speaking of, did you drink water after your run?” He asked Lloyd who blinked then looked sheepish.

“Uh. No actually.” He says as he got to his feet and spread his wings. “Be right back.” He told them then glided down to the ship’s deck.

“I got it!” He heard Jay call out and Lloyd chuckled as he headed to the lower deck.

“Lloyd!” He startled, hearing his name being yelled from several different angles.

He wiped his head around- then paled at the blast of amber energy coming right for him. There’s no way he’d be able to dodge in time- and he didn’t need to luckily. The black dragon around Lloyd’s neck hadn’t paused to think, only launched himself off the second he spotted the energy, intercepting it.

The amber energy hit the small dragon and he hit the deck hard.

“Dad!” Lloyd yelled as he dropped to his knees, reaching for the sluggishly writhing dragon- only to have his eyes widen- along with everyone else witnessing this- as the dragonling grew in size, scales receding, skin lightening, paws turning into hands and feet…

Lloyd stared with wide eyes at the man on his hands and knees before him. He lifted his head, dark eyes meeting red, gray hair falling into them. Lloyd’s mouth worked uselessly for a moment before he managed to utter a single word.

“D-dad?” He whispered, looking over the gray haired man he hasn’t seen in years now.

Said man blinked at him then shifted his weight to his knees and looked at his hands. They were… Human… He was… He looked up at Lloyd again.

“Son.” Garmadon whispered, a smile tugging at his lips.

______________ (Look at this! Plot! Dw, more details on what happened here will be put in the next chapter. That and some explanations [or ninja theory rather] on why there's two Garmadons [lord g and little g] in one dimension. Ik I said every other day but my sleep schedule is fucked already- after one whole ass day. I'll still try for that interval but it might end up coming out a little late or a little early sometimes. Thanks for reading!!!

Edit: I’m a sleep deprived idiot. Red is supposed to be amber. Sorry!)

#ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #jay ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd ninjago #nya ninjago #garmadon #Sensei Wu #aweebwrites' work

[wwevampireamongkpop]

A Battle of Giants P3

Pairing: Selene (OC) x Sheamus (former), future Selene x Damian Priest, Hunter(Triple H), Matt Riddle

A/N: I’m glad I’m getting inspiration and motivation for this series, idk how many parts but we shall see

Tag list: @evilangel84 @gold--gucciempress @ladytea19 @tacoshu @the-carter-mob-don

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

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After Selene left the PC(Performance Center) for the day, she made her way home. She had planned to do some baking, no matter what kind of day it was at the PC. The need for her favorite cupcakes, apple pie cupcakes, was strong which she didn’t fight that need like she fought the need to climb Damian.

Shaking her head to clear away unnecessary thoughts so she could get to work on her cupcakes. Moments later, she had the cupcakes in the oven and started working on the filling. Adding a couple shots of Honey and Apple Jack Daniel’s whiskey mainly for the flavor not so much the alcohol content itself. The frosting didn’t take her long to make once everything was done.

Once she finished putting everything together, she realized she made several dozen cupcakes. In all honesty, she didn’t mind making so much because she knew she could take them with her in the morning before her training with Riddle.

Selene sat down on her couch with a couple cupcakes on a plate along with a mug of warm tea. She wanted to catch up on Raw and SmackDown that she missed from the past week all because she decided to workout during each show without realizing what time or day it was. She loved watching her friends do what they love to do. It always inspired her to push has hard as she could through this whole recovery.

~

Selene had set the cupcakes she made in the cafeteria area before making her way to the locker room. She walked through the halls as if it was only yesterday she walked them for the first time a number of years ago. As she walked she heard a couple people talking and one of those people just happened to be Matt Riddle.

“I swear it’s going to be a long and annoying day bro.” Matt was clearly annoyed and Selene knew it was all because of her. “I get to help Selene prepare for her comeback and she had the nerve to tell me to watch her shit on the Network. Her moveset isn’t all that impressive, at least compared to mine.” Arrogance filled his voice just like Selene knew filled his whole being.

“How is she not impressive? She teamed with Balor for a while and they were one of the best mixed tag teams on the main roster.”

“Balor carried their team.” Selene stood by just out of sight of Riddle listening to what he clearly thought of her.

“I disagree, Balor once said she is one of his favorite tag partners.” The sound of the other person sounded like Adam Cole. “Hell when we invaded the main roster, I saw her in action on SmackDown. Honestly I wouldn’t mind being her partner in the ring.”

“Bro, you have to be careful talking like that. I saw how Damian looked at her last night.” Riddle clearly knew something that she didn’t. “It was a look like if anyone messed with Selene, he would kick their ass.”

“Duly noted. Besides, Selene seems like a great person to actually get to know.” Adam sounded genuine in his comment. It was that moment Selene decided to walk by the two men with a smirk on her face.

“Riddle, you shouldn’t say someone’s moveset isn’t impressive. Especially since most of yours are moves you copied from others and decided to add “Bro” to.” She used air quotes and that whole statement felt good to say especially with he was bashing her before he even had a chance in the ring with her.

Instead of stopping to hear his retort, she just continued walking. She wanted to change and start warming up. She thought to herself that it was going to be a great day. Not only kicking Riddles ass but proving that he was wrong about her. What Riddle didn’t know was that over the last few years, she has trained with Aleister Black, Sheamus, Naomi, Christian and what many don’t know is that Hunter even helped her out when she first came to the WWE.

She put on her favorite deep red sports bra and one of her many Hufflepuff shirts that she had turned into a crop top. Her leggings were a simple black with mesh cutouts from mid-thigh down on the outer side of the legs. Wrestling boots were the last part of the whole outfit, making her feel absolutely amazing.

As Selene made her way to where the rings were, she noticed a couple people who had found the cupcakes and they both had smiles on their faces. This only made her morning even better.

Once she made it to the rings, she noticed Hunter standing next to one of the rings talking to Riddle, Damian, and from the looks of it, from the other side of the room, Kacy. Selene had heard about Kacy thanks to Ricochet and from the pictures of them together, they looked super cute and adorable together.

“Morning Hunter, Kacy.” Selene glared at Riddle who didn’t even look at her. “Riddle and morning Damian.” She couldn’t help but smile when her eyes met with Damians. He smiled back at her with a slight smirk which didn’t help her in the slightest.

“Morning Selene.” Hunter smiled at her. “There is a slight change in plans for your return to NXT.”

“Oh really, what changes have been made?” Her eyebrow quirked up as she asked.

“Well, I was talking to Christian the other day and he suggested that the Wednesday before Survivor Series have you come back in a surprise match that would be the main event for the night.” He looked at her as she thought it through.

“If Christian thinks it would be a good idea, well then I think it could be great.” Selene trusted Christian, especially since he was like a father/uncle figure to her, besides Hunter. “What kind of match are you thinking about? A normal match, a tag match, a mixed tag match?”

“I was thinking of doing a mixed tag match. That way it helps you prep for that Sunday and it won’t be too much for your first match back after your ankle.”

“Don’t worry about a match being too much for me in a couple months. My ankle is healed and I’m just ready to get back in the ring.”

“That’s what I love to hear.” He nods his head towards the ring. “Get in there and lets get this training started with.”

Selene climbed up on the side of the ring then stepped through the ropes. Hunter quickly instructed her to get a feel for the ring and start warming up. She did exactly that, the more she bounced off the ropes on all four sides of the ring the more she felt at home. As she went to bounce off one side, she never expected her ass to fall through the second rope. Riddle had pulled the second rope down climbing up on the side of the ring just as Selene went to bounce off it. This caused her to fall right into Damian’s arms.

He smiled down at her and this caused her to get flustered. The man hasn’t even said a single word to her and he has her completely flustered. His smile turned into a smirk as he set her down on the side of the ring then glared at Riddle. 

Selene looked up from Damian’s handsome face to see Riddle shrug his shoulders. This simple act would seem harmless but if it wasn’t for the fact that he just caused her to fall through the ropes. The look on her face morphed to a serious look. Hunter stood by the side of the ring and smirked, he knew that when Selene had that look she was about to beat someone's ass.

Selene climbed back into the ring and tilted her head from side to side, cracking her neck in the process. Then she cracked her knuckles as she glared at Riddle. He just stood there and smirked cockily. This didn’t help in the slightest.

“Selene, what do you think you could do to me?” His tone sounded light but taunting. “You’re about 5’2, what can you.”

Without a single word, Selene hit him hard in the abdomen with a spear. She sat up on her knees as she tossed her hair over her head, mimicking something Edge had done. A moment later she stood up and stepped away from Riddle so he was able to start getting up off the mat. He tried to get over the surprise attack. He didn’t get up fast enough though.

Selene took the opportunity and lifted Riddles head up, just like Aleister does before he hits black mass. She grabbed him by the chin as he looked a bit dazed still. “Don’t ever taunt my height again.” She then spun around and the top of her foot hit the side of Riddles head, laying him out. “Everyone is the same height when they are laying out cold on the mat.”

“That’s my girl.” A familiar gruff voice came from the other side of the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen White Mass.”

“Aleister! Zelina!” Selene looked happy to see him along with Zelina. 

“Looking to make a NXT comeback I see.” Selene nodded her head. Aleister looked at Hunter. “Who’s she tagging with for that mixed tag match you were talking about?”

Hunter looked at Aleister to Selene to Damian. “Damian Priest.”

#a battle of giants #damian priest x oc(selene) #damian priest #wwe fanfiction #original character (Selene) #sheamus x oc(selene)

[fic-al]

Christmas 1958

CHAPTER FOUR

Patrick was still staring at her from the driver's seat. It was as If he knew where her mind had wandered off to and he was waiting for her to return home. Shelagh turned to him as she opened the passenger door of their car.

"We better hurry up, it looks like snow."

Patrick met her at the boot and quickly stole a kiss. Shelagh's head spun round in all directions. Patrick laughed,

"Are you worried Constable Noakes will arrest us for indecent behaviour?"

"If we are going to do this, I must insist on best behaviour at all times, Dr Turner." She even managed a sly wink, the one she had been practicing of late in the bathroom mirror.

Shelagh wanted Patrick to lead the way up the institute stairs, but he insisted she went up ahead of him. Blissfully unaware of her companions true motives; not for the first time Shelagh remained unconvinced that gentlemanly conduct was always appropriate. Perspiring from a day spent in the over warm London and Patrick's love of the car heater, Shelagh had left her coat in the car.

Suddenly she felt very exposed and vulnerable. She froze on reaching the main hall door, she could hear music and female chatter. Patrick leaned over her to reach for the heavy hall door. Before pushing it open, he whispered in her ear,

"They love you, we all do."

The momentum of him leaning against her, propelled her gently forward through the open door. He announced their arrival with a corny, "We come bearing gifts."

Nat King Cole on Trixie's Dansette didn't miss a beat, but everyone else fell silent and turned their attention to the door. Patrick moved swiftly, very aware of the tension in his sweetheart. He dumped his packages on the nearest flat surface and returned to Shelagh taking her burdens from her and belatedly returning her wink.

Patrick wasn't the only one to notice the fear in Shelagh's eyes and Sister Julienne was soon across; fussing over the donations and welcoming the couple in.

Shelagh gratefully found herself in a bubble of protection from the two people who loved her the most. Her confidence returned as she started to help with the unpacking. To her surprise she felt warm hands in her's, the grip was tight and she turned to find herself face to face with Trixie. The young midwife pulled the ex-nun aside. It was only then that Shelagh realized the girl, whose firm grip she was in, had tears in her eyes.

"I have missed you, I will never forgive myself! You needed a friend, and I was blind to it. You could have told me. You could have confided in me. You could have trusted me. All that time you were never really alone, you just thought you were."

Trixie gave one last squeeze of her friends hands before she let go, "Tell me, are you happy?"

Shelagh was still reeling from Trixie's unexpected welcome and just managed a smile and a nod. Trixie had lowered her voice during her conversation with her old mentor, but it was not lost on the rest of the gathering that the friends reunion had deeply affected them both. Help came from an unexpected source.

"Now enough of all that, you two! What we really want to know is, how is the boy?"

Patrick's voice was shrill and overly bright, as he tried to reassure everyone that Timothy was doing just fine and making a splendid recovery. The wise Sister grabbed the doctor's arm, "He will be alright Dr Turner, remember what his mother said when I brought him into the world."

It was now Patrick's turn to be wrong footed. He didn't know whether it was being reminded of his promise to Marianne or the identity of his reminder. Patrick had to admit since the announcement of his and Shelagh's engagement, he hadn't actually relished working with Sister Evangelina. The nun although never discourteous or disrespectful, hadn't exactly been a ray of sunshine either.

Trixie was now regaining her composure. Feeling a little insecure at revealing her true feelings to her long lost friend, she tossed her hair in defiance. Shelagh was starting to find her feet chatting to Jenny about the Nonnatus closure. Nurse Lee was explaining that she had received forewarning about the impending demolition of the convent, prior to the recent events that had hastened it.

"Alec?" queried Shelagh.

"Oh Sweetie, you are so behind in all the gossip? Alec! I told you about him in that beastly sanatorium, Jenny's latest conquest. I suppose you had your mind on other things." Trixie was definitely feeling better and wanting to regain some sense of control.

"Yes, recovering from tuberculosis," a protective Cynthia interjected. Trixie chose to ignore her.

"You know, you are not the only one to have had your head turned in the last few months.” She continued as she dared a sly glance in Dr Turner's direction.

Chummy gave Trixie a stare the Poplar cub pack were only too familiar with. She handed baby Freddie to Shelagh to try and divert the current trajectory of the conversation. Trixie opened her mouth and Cynthia in a quiet but forceful tone whispered,

"Don't you dare Trixie, don't say it."

Trixie shrugged her shoulders, “All I was going to say, was how much I like your outfit, Shelagh. That skirt is simply to die for, it fits you perfectly."

Shelagh coloured, but Cynthia let Trixie continue, her previous colleague did look attractive and she would have to probably get used to compliments about her appearance.

"You are simply divine! Who knew what you were hiding under that habit all those years? Well, obviously someone had an idea."

Cynthia couldn't apologize enough for her friends behaviour, blaming it on too many Babychams at Alec's earlier in the day and dragged Trixie away for a strong cup of Nescafé. Shelagh handed Freddie back to his mother, her eyes searching for Patrick, it was definitely time to be going. He seemed to be mediating between Sister Evangelina, Sister Monica Joan and a newly delivered Christmas cake.

Sister Monica Joan peevishly turned her back on her sister and the cake, but not before secreting a mince pie up her habit sleeve. Shelagh smiled, she realized how much her self-imposed exile had cost her these magical moments. The senior nun noticed the lovely young woman smiling kindly at her.

"You have returned to us once more, I see." The nun moved towards Shelagh, "it is also fortuitous that you arrive in time for Evensong."

The older woman had both of Shelagh's hands held together and cocooned in her own. As if in the state of conjoined prayer. Both women for most of their working lives had suffered from dry chapped skin on their palms and fingers. Without the need for constant washing, the use of harsh disinfectants and the sparse use of hand cream, both women's hands were now soft due to the change in direction both their lives had afforded them.

Shelagh tried to catch Patrick's eye while trying to explain to the nun that she couldn't stay.

"Why do you look to him, for permission?" Suddenly there was a tangible tension in the room. Trixie's tears and subsequent teasing were one thing, but Sister Monica Joan's comments had the ability to cut right to the heart of the matter, on occasion without censure.

"You answer to no-one. You have renounced your religious vows." Shelagh stiffened and Sister Julienne moved towards the pair. Sister Monica Joan continued, "If I am not very much mistaken, you have not yet repeated different vows to your new Lord and Master."

Mouths opened, fingers twitched, feet shuffled, no-one dare look at Dr Turner.

"You will never find yourself again as free as you are on this blessed day. You are under no obligation to anyone. Why not rejoice in that fact, my dear? Before you surrender yourself again to a destiny, you will never again chart alone."

Shelagh blinked the tears back. Sister Monica Joan smiled, "Partake in the privilege of free will, while you can, my sister."

Patrick was the first to speak, "Stay Shelagh." Sister Monica Joan shot him a look of defiance. "If that's what you want?" he swiftly added.

"Why don't you both stay?" Sister Julienne suggested.

Patrick Turner was used to being the only man in a room full of women, but at this particular moment, all he wanted was to be heading down the institute stairs. It had been Shelagh who had been reticent in coming, but he knew it was imperative for her to stay and for him to take his leave.

Shelagh walked Patrick to their car she flung her arms around him, unconcerned that PC Noakes or anyone else might see. He promised her he would return in an hour, in a way that made an hour sound like a lifetime. On opening the car door he threw her a cheeky grin.

"Don't you be setting off on your own and make me come and find you in the snow."

"Don't keep me waiting then," she called after him and he was gone. She knew he would be back for her, but that sensation of being lost gripped her again.

Patrick had meant well, Sister Monica Joan had meant well, they had all meant well. None of them could have understood the inner turmoil raging inside her at this moment.

Could she really go back in there and join the Sisters in lifting their voices to praise God? Would He understand? Would He think her a hypocrite? No, not think. He would know? She would make an excuse and take her leave.

As Shelagh aimlessly climbed the institute stairs, alone this time. Flicking the lighter she had worked all day to master. She studied the words engraved on it Completely Certain.

Completely Certain, had not so long ago been such a clear statement of romance, clarity, intent, truth and faith. Now these concepts seemed hazy, unreachable at best. She now was more familiar with desire, impulse, craving, necessity, endurance and fight. She was now completely certain only of these things.

At the top of the stairs stood a solitary figure. “He loves you very much, everyone can see that," remarked the kindhearted Cynthia. “And you him?"

"Yes."

"Do you mind me asking?" Cynthia paused. Shelagh let her to continue.

"How can you be so certain that this was His meaning for you?"

The introverted nurse was the first person to ask Shelagh that question. Patrick had never asked her, even Sister Julienne had not asked that question. It had been the only question, Shelagh had asked herself for three long months in St. Anne’s.

She knew the answer now, "His meaning is love...I am always led back to that promise."

The young midwife linked her friend's arm and asked, "Shall we go in now and offer up our thanks to our Lord."

Shelagh smiled. "I think that would be most appropriate."

#call the midwife #turnadette #thanks for reading #christnas 1958 turnadette

[claritalunaluna76]

This time nine years ago, five teenage boys’ dreams were in tatters after being rejected from the X Factor .

But determined not to let a good-looking gang go to waste, show boss Simon Cowell and his genius decided to put solo hopefuls Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson together.

It took the lads just five minutes to agree to his plan and have another crack at the competition - this time in the groups category.

They would go on to be one of the most successful boybands of the century, selling out stadiums and dominating the charts for five years before splitting in an explosion of bitterness and animosity.

But with no experience of harmonies, group singing or even each other, even then Liam wondered what they were really getting into.

“We had seen each other at Bootcamp and got on well, and Niall and I had shared a room. But we were competition then, and at the back of the minds we knew were against each other,” Liam would later recall.

“So it was strange when we were put together and my first thought was, ‘How are we going to make this work when we don’t know each other? It was such a leap of faith.”

A fractious start

Desperate to catch up with the other bands, the newly-formed five-piece spent an intense two intense weeks practising in a bungalow at the bottom of Harry’s step-dad’s garden in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.

But contrary to their bright white smiles and boyish banter, their very different personalities were already beginning to show, laying the foundations for the resentment, jealously and anger that would one day cause the group to implode.

“We used to be at each other’s throats on the X Factor,” Louis admitted on their This Is Us DVD of his clashes with Liam.

“Whenever I wanted to do anything slightly mischievous, he was always the daddy.”

“Me and Louis did not get on at all,” Wolverhampton-born Liam agreed. “We were two completely different characters. There was one point where I literally wanted to whack him.”

Nevertheless, they sailed through the live shows and came third in the final before scoring a record deal with Cowell, who for them made n exception of only signing the winning act.

A mysterious fall out

By the time they scored their first number one with What Makes You Beautiful in September 2011, Harry and Louis were living as housemates in a rented £3million North London flat in the same block where Ashley Cole and Cheryl once met.

Then suddenly at the start of 2012 they allegedly stopped talking and moved out.

“Apart from Harry and Louis, no one knows exactly what caused the falling out — they didn’t even tell the other boys the full details,“ a source told The Sun at the time.

“But it was very serious and their friendship has never recovered. Everyone involved in the band is well aware of the animosity between them.

“It’s been central to everything else that came next with the band because there was suddenly a massive divide.”

From that point on Harry apparently refused to even travel with Louis and the fall-out would become so serious that bosses reportedly had to find a way to make their last three albums without the boys having to spend any time together in the studio.

However, Niall dismissed the claims, telling fans not to believe the reports.

"We stand strong as a band and we’re brothers,” he tweeted.

Those 'gay sex’ rumours

One theory was that the 'Larry Stylinson’ fan fiction depicting the pair as lovers had pushed them apart.

Louis, in particular, was extremely sensitive about the claims and admitted the speculation about their sexuality 'created an atmosphere’.

“People can believe what they want, but it comes across as a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love, like (girlfriend) Eleanor (Calder),” he said.

“I’m so protective over things like that, about the people I love. So it created this atmosphere between the two of us.”

Zayn told how Harry and Louis had even dialled back their physical friendship in an attempt to stop the rumours.

“It’s not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won’t naturally go put their arm around each other because they’re conscious of this thing that’s going on, which is not even true,” he said.

While Harry likes to keep people guessing about his sexuality, refusing to put a label on it, Louis has categorically said he is heterosexual.

And he was raging when a cartoon featured in HBO show Euphoria depicted a sex scene between him and Harry last month.

“I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it,” he raged on Twitter , with a source telling The Sun he was 'angered’ that an 'awkward’ situation had been made worse.

Drug scandal

Whatever the cause of the tension, the rift only grew wider when Zayn and Louis were filmed smoking what appeared to be cannabis in the back of an SUV en route to a concert in Peru in 2014.

Narrating from behind the camera as he filmed Zayn lighting what appeared to be a joint, Louis could be heard saying, “So here we are, leaving Peru. Joint lit. Happy days!”

Talking about Zayn taking his warm-up 'seriously’, he continued, “One very very important factor of Zayn’s warm up of course if Mary J herself. In fact I will present it to him now for some fantastic singing.”

Straight-laced Harry - who wasn’t even much of a drinker - was apparently 'furious’ they’d taken the shine off the start of their UK stadium tour with their 'stupid and reckless’ behaviour.

“Harry is annoyed about the whole debacle. This should be one of the biggest weeks of the band’s career… Instead it has been taken over by this controversy,” an insider told The Sun.

“Despite Harry’s reputation, he’s incredibly professional and mature, and not into these sorts of antics,” the source added.

Booze battles

It wasn’t just Louis and Zayn who were in Harry’s bad books.

Liam’s partying was so out of control that Harry reportedly refused to go socialise with the band unless good guy Niall was there to keep the peace.

The pressure of spending two solid years on the road coupled with rumours about their future caused Liam to have a backstage meltdown in October 2015 with the band forced to cancel the gig in Belfast.

“The pressures of fame and being on the road for two years have made Liam ill,” a source told The Sun of the star, who would go on to admit fame 'nearly killed me’.

“He was devastated about letting everyone down, especially the fans, but he wasn’t physically able to get on stage. He had a complete meltdown.”

On another occasion he turned up to a fan event so drunk that it finally gave him a wake-up call.

“I’m not afraid to say that I actually went through a pretty bad [drinking] stage,” he told Attitude magazine.

“There were just a few times that I went over the limit with things and then I had to pull it back.

"I was very fortunate that I had lots of great people around me who said to me, 'Look Liam, you need to chill out a bit now.’”

Admitting he used alcohol to cope with the strain of performing near-constant touring, he said being drunk was like putting on a Disney costume before stepping out on stage.

“Underneath the Disney costume I was pissed quite a lot of the time because there was no other way to get your head around what was going on,” he told Men’s Health.

“I mean, it was fun. We had an absolute blast, but there were certain parts of it where it just got a little bit toxic.”

The pact

The band was fraying at the seams. Zayn was constantly in the headlines, accused of cheating on then-fiancée Perrie Edwar - which he vehemently denied.

There were rumours that he wanted out of 1D - despite the deal they were said to have made to release five albums and a greatest hits record before going on a 'hiatus’.

But Zayn blindsided everyone by suddenly quitting in March 2015 after a concert in Hong Kong.

In a statement he later admitted had nothing to do with him, he claimed he wanted to be a 'normal 22- year old’.

"I wasn’t going to spend another minute doing something which made me ill and which I no longer believed in,” he said of his shock exit.

Harry was seen openly crying on stage during their performance the next night.

But behind the scenes, the lads were reportedly furious.

“The others knew Zayn would have a head start by leaving first, like Robbie Williams did when he quit Take That,“ said a pal.

“It was frustrating to them as Zayn only had to hang on in there a few months and 1D would have gone on their long break united.”

Zayn would later go so far as to claim he’d wanted to leave the band from the very beginning and that he hated their music.

Friends no more?

Meanwhile, absence has only made the feud grow stronger, particularly between Louis and Zayn after the latter failed to support him on the X Factor following his mum’s death in December 2016.

"I had a couple of calls with him after I lost my mum and all the boys had agreed to come to that performance and he didn’t show, so that really bugged me,” he said on the Dan Wootton podcast.

“It was just seeing everyone there – Harry, Niall and Liam – that was what I needed that night, that support,” he said. “So on the other end of the spectrum it kind of really showed. So, eh, I hope he’s alright, but…”

Niall admits he doesn’t even have Zayn’s number and that he’s constantly changing it, while Zayn sniped that he didn’t 'really’ speak to Harry when they were in the band so didn’t expect to have a friendship after.

“I ain’t spoke to any of them for a long time, to be honest with you. That’s just the way it is,” he told Vogue.

“There’s things that happen and things that were said after I left…Snide things. Small things that I would never have expected.”

So could they ever reunite?

Mirror - July 23, 2019

#this is the investigative quoted by queerty #that's more like a fanfiction than a journalistic work #but that clearly establishes some changes to the narrative #they have been building since the beginning of the hiatus #with harry and niall on the good side #louis zayn and liam as the guilty part #and larry stylinson as the root of all conflicts #this article also reinforces the harry thinks he's better than the rest narrative #he decides with whom to fly with #and he doesn't want to reunited the band #i want this in my blog because it feels to me #they are escalating in the smear campaign againts louis #again #what is the endgame tho? #further isolate him from his community #and reinforce the idea of internalized homophobia #make him responsable for his own closet? #force him to come out and breach his contract? #can't figure it out #one direction: ninth anniversary #one direction #larry stylinson #louis tomlinson #solo louis sabotage #smear campaign #daily mirror

[carrotsofavonlea]

Anne of Hogwarts

Chapter 6: Anyway...

[AO3]

Anne and Gilbert seemed to settle back into their routine of not speaking to each other. They were more competitive than ever during class, and Anne was not going to let him get the better of her.

Rumour had spread around the second years at Hogwarts that Gilbert Blythe was now an orphan, and everyone looked at him with sympathy in their eyes.

“Isn't he more handsome than ever?” Ruby sighed.

They had taken up spot by the great lake, giving a beautiful view of the grounds. The trees were golden, orange, and red in the October sun.

Cole was focused once again on his sketchbook, Albus was picking the remaining few flowers from summer, and making a sort of flower crown, placing it on top of Cole's head. Not that he noticed.

Gilbert was quietly reading by himself against a tree a little further around the lake.

“There's no one more sad or handsome than Gilbert Blythe.” Ruby was fixated on him.

Anne disagreed with Ruby. She didn't want to admit it, but Gilbert did have a certain handsomeness to himself. It was more of a fact than opinion.

But to say he was more attractive now he was sad... Anne just couldn't see it. He lacked the light in his eyes, the warmth in his smile. Even his hair seemed duller and lifeless. Anne thought that if he must be considered attractive, it was when he was smiling, when he was laughing. Maybe even how his brow creased when he was concentrating….No. Anne wasn't going to think about it. She was mad at him.

Billy Andrews was skipping stones across the lake - well, more accurately he was aggressively throwing rocks into the lake. When he ran out of rocks, he turned around, scanning the area of the lake.

He saw Anne reading and scoffed.

“It's an outrage they let people like that into Hogwarts.” He raised his voice. “Mudbloods raised by squibs? Whatever next.” He laughed maliciously, his cronies around him following suit.

Gilbert made the mistake of looking up, meeting Billy's gaze. “Hey, Blythe!”

Gilbert reluctantly closed his book and stood up as Billy approached.

“Billy.”

“You know Blythe, I've been thinking.”

“Congratulations.” Gilbert forced a smile, not to Billy's amusement.

Billy chose to ignore that comment. “As I was saying, I've been thinking about that mudblood Anne. Someone needs to take her down a peg or two. Show her she's not so smart.”

Gilbert didn't have time to deal with this. “She's smart. Deal with it.”

“Come on, bud. You could easily beat her.”

“Look Billy, I'm not your bud.” Gilbert stepped forward, pointing a hand at Billy. “And if you ever hassle Anne again, you'll regret it.”

Billy laughed, looking around at his friends. “Excuse me? What's your problem?”

Gilbert's expression hardened, “Ask me that again. Seriously. Go ahead.”

Billy stopped smiling, and narrowed his eyes. “What.”

“Ask me.” Gilbert raised his voice. A few people had started to watch, and even Anne looked up to see what the commotion was about.

Billy reached into his robe pockets and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Gilbert.

“Flipendo!”

But Gilbert was quicker, dropping his book and pulling out his own wand in defense.

“Protego!” He blocked Billy's spell. The two boys stood facing each other, wands raised.

Gilbert lunged forward, “Stupefy!”

Billy got knocked back, but from the ground he raised his wand and yelled “Immobulus!”

Gilbert froze momentarily, his wand raised. Billy's spell was weak, but it held long enough for him to scramble back to his feet.

“Expelliarmus!” Gilbert quickly pointed his wand, watching as Billy's wand was expelled from his hand.

“Accio wand.” Before he could pick it up, Gilbert had already summoned Billy's wand. He stepped forward, holding his wand under Billy's chin. People were cheering for Gilbert, but Anne walked away. How dare he fight like this when a few weeks ago he'd made it perfectly clear he didn't want anything to do with her. She was confused about what it all meant.

Billy raised his hands in defense, cowering from Gilbert. He wasn't as tough as he thought he was.

After a moment, Gilbert lowered his wand, stepping back from Billy.

He murmured a quick, “Rictusempra.” Billy collapsing to the ground in fits of laughter, being tickled by an invisible force.

Gilbert chucked Billy's wand back to him. “Leave Anne alone. Do you understand?”

Billy nodded, the spell wearing off. His friends helped him up, as Gilbert shoved his hands in his pockets and made his way back up to the castle.

Anne refused to accept that Gilbert had fought to defend her. She just couldn't see why he would want to after he had made it perfectly clear he didn't want to be her friend.

When she saw him in charms class the next day, he still refused to fully acknowledge her anymore than a polite nod when she looked at him.

She wanted to ask him why he did it, but she couldn't find the right time to.

Weeks passed, and the event was pushed to the back of her mind. They carried on as they had, but it wasn't until Anne overhead Ruby's conversation with Diana that Anne remembered.

“It's so sad. He's going to be here all alone.”

“Who is?” Anne hugged her scarf tighter around herself. The snow always fell heavy around Hogwarts.

“Gilbert. He's staying here for Christmas. I'd invite him home but mother would never approve of a boy houseguest.” Ruby sighed sadly, as if Gilbert would have come anyway.

“That is sad…” Anne felt that sink in her chest again, like she had when she first learnt of Gilbert's father's passing. She'd spent many Christmases alone, but now she at least had the Cuthberts to go home to. Gilbert had no one.

She didn't know what made her do it, but she wrote a letter to Marilla explaining how she would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. “A lot of studying”, was the excuse.

She just needed a chance to apologise to Gilbert. After much consideration, she was finally ready to accept that he had been defending her honour, and anyone who did that was surely worth an apology.

There were overall about 14 students that had stayed behind over Christmas. But Anne and Gilbert were the only second years.

Every year, headmaster Dippet held a Christmas feast for the students in the Great Hall.

“I thought you went home to the Cuthberts over Christmas?” It was the first thing Gilbert had said to her for a while and Anne almost missed his voice.

“I was, but I wanted to keep up on my studies.” She lied. “Also Marilla had been working too hard so I thought I'd give her some respite if I stayed here this year.”

He nodded, looking back at his dinner. He poked his turkey with his fork. Every so often he'd look up at Anne, as if he wanted to say something, but thought the better of it.

Headmaster Dippet quietened the peaceful chatter around the table, and began a speech.

“This year has certainly been eventful. It has been a year of heartache,” he looked over at Gilbert, “A year of friendship, but above all, a year of hope. And it is my firm belief that next year, we will all find more happiness and success next year.”

Anne and Gilbert exchanged a brief glance, before turning away again.

After dinner, Gilbert hesitantly approached Anne.

“Anne, can we talk? I'll walk you back to your common room?”

She nodded, eager to put this behind them.

“I wanted to thank you. For standing up to Billy.” She looked at him out the corner of her eye as they walked. “You didn't have to, especially not after the way I acted. But I just wanted to let you know I thought it was….sweet.” she could feel herself blushing at saying that.

“I couldn't let them talk about you like that. Billy Andrews is bully.” His jaw tightened briefly and then relaxed.

He stopped them in the empty hall, Anne finally looking up at him properly.

“But, I'm the one who should be sorry for my actions. I just…” he sighed. “You were the one person I thought that would understand. That wouldn't look at me with pity - everyone else does now. I thought you could be someone I could forget about that pain with. Even if just for a moment. But when you told me you knew…. I shouldn't have acted like that.”

Anne shook her head. “No, I'm sorry. I didn't stop to consider how you feel. I deserved it and-”

“I wasn't a gentleman. I was angry and upset but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-”

“Can you please stop contradicting me?” She said, and he nodded. Finally giving her that smile she secretly began to miss.

He let her speak.

“I'm sorry Gilbert. I know it's not quite the same losing parents you didn't know to someone you've loved your whole life. But I was just trying to tell you that I'm here for you. I know what it's like to be alone and I don't want you to feel like that.”

“Thank you Anne. And I'm sorry for my outburst. I understand you were just trying to help. Even if it wasn't perhaps the best way.”

“Thank you, for staying by the way.” He added almost as an afterthought. “I know you didn't have to. But...I appreciate it. Really. I could use a friend right now.”

She laughed softly, looking at him. “I understand.”

They held each other's gaze, a warm smile passing between them.

“So... anyway…” she whispered after a while.

“Anyway…” he whispered back, still holding her gaze.

A moment passed, before she held out her hand. “Friends? For real this time.”

Gilbert shook her hand, never taking his eyes from hers. “Friends.”

“Merry Christmas, Gilbert.”

“Merry Christmas, Anne.”

Since Christmas, Anne and Gilbert had both been determined to make their friendship work. For real this time, no more arguments.

Much to Ruby's delight, Gilbert started to join them more frequently, especially on library trips.

Instead of a rivalry, Anne found Gilbert was actually a good study partner. They'd spend hours testing each other on different spells for the upcoming end of year exams.

Anne was waiting outside the transfiguration class with Diana and Albus, ready for their exam, when Gilbert walked by on his way to the greenhouses for a herbology exam. He stopped when he saw Anne.

“Anne! Good luck!” He smiled. “I know you're going to do great.”

“Good luck on your herbology.” She returned the smile, ignoring Diana and Albus whispering behind her.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the two whispering, but then gave his polite nod to Anne before making his way down the hall.

“What?” Anne turned to Albus and Diana. “What're you laughing at?”

“Nothing.” Diana folded her hands behind her and swung on her heels innocently.

“It's just good to see you and Gilbert are friends again.” Albus held back a laugh as Diana looked down, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing too.

“Diana?”

She gave in, she couldn't hold it from Anne any longer. “Anne, isn't it obvious?”

Anne raised an eyebrow, “No?” she said slowly, looking between Diana and Albus.

They looked at each other in exasperation. “Gilbert has a crush on you.” Albus finally said.

“What? No he doesn't.” Anne said quickly. She refused to believe it. She wasn't someone boys developed crushes on. Her hair was horrid, she was too loud and homely.

Diana and Albus shook their heads, “Trust us Anne. He does.”

“We're friends. And you're being ridiculous.” She dismissed them.

But when her eyes locked with Gilbert's over at the Hufflepuff table later that evening at the end of year feast, she wondered if maybe Diana and Albus were right.

But her thoughts were interrupted by the loud cheering from the Gryffindor table. “We won! Anne, we won the house cup!” Albus leapt up, pulling Anne with him into a hug.

Last year Ravenclaw had one, but this year the house cup was Gryffindor’s.

Perhaps it hadn't been the perfect year, but it was certainly the perfect end.

#shirbert au #anne of hogwarts #awae fic #shirbert #anne shirley #gilbert blythe

[rainagainstmywindow]

All Shades of You (Chapter 4)

I reached my first 1k a few days ago so, as promised, here’s the next chapter. Prepare for a lot of swimmer!Percy and some throw backs to my own swimming days (this was our actual stretching ritual). I can’t believe I reached 1k! That’s just crazy! Thanks once again to @san-penedo for being my beta and enjoy!

(please search #ramwfics or #ASoY for previous chapters)

Blue

/bloo/

Adjective

of a color intermediate between green and violet, as of the sky or sea on a sunny day.

Annabeth pinched her nose as she squinted through the brightness of her phone screen. Between green and violet. She guessed that meant that she was moving through the color spectrum. As of the sky. Yeah, she’d almost had a heart attack yesterday when she’d looked up, bracing for the recently bright green leaves of the trees, and was slapped with a clear, blue sky looking back down at her. Was this the color of Luke’s eyes? Was this what Thalia had seen all those years ago?

She sighed as she locked her phone’s screen and settled back down onto her pillow, sparing a quick glance to her roomate to make sure she hadn’t disturbed her. It was now obvious to her that she couldn’t keep ignoring this. Grover had tried to hang out with her more the past couple of weeks but she had guiltily denied in fear of Percy being there. Now she made the colossal effort of putting her pride aside and unlocked her phone once again, sending Grover a text asking if they could meet up tomorrow after school.

Even though it was around 12 am Grover answered right away. Sure! Where?

I dunno ur the new yorker, she answered back.

I know a great enchilada place.

She was about to answer but noticed the ellipses that told her Grover was still typing.

Tell thalia to come?

Sure thing. Annabeth knew that Thalia had been avoiding Grover longer than she had and felt guilty all over again about ghosting Grover for the past couple of weeks. She didn’t know if Thalia would agree, but it was worth asking anyways.

Annabeth walked to the address Grover had texted her this morning, self-conscious of her stupid, plaid school skirt. She spotted Grover right away and walked towards the booth he was at, careful to avoid tripping over the crutches he had propped beside him. “Those new?” Annabeth asked as a form of greeting. She hadn’t seen that particular pair before. Grover had EDS (Ehlers-Danlos syndrome) which meant he had pretty bad hips and chronic pain that fluctuated day to day so he didn’t always use his crutches.

He looked up from his menu and smiled at her. “Yep.” Grover looked past her hopefully, but Thalia had politely declined her invitation to come. She’d been acting a bit distant with Annabeth too now that she thought about it, ever since she told her about Percy and brought up Luke.

“So what’s good here?” She asked as a way to keep his spirits up. “I mean besides the enchiladas.”

He took a second to answer but collected himself quickly enough. “The guac isn’t bad,” he told her. “Percy approves of it even though he says his mom’s is way better.”

Annabeth ended up ordering the enchiladas and they fell into an easy conversation about school. She did a lot of the talking. Grover had never had a good time at school. She’d hoped things had gotten better with Percy there. She voiced her concern once she felt his guard go down.

He smiled a little to himself, he wasn’t nearly as proud as Thalia or Annabeth but she could tell the question still made hime bristle a little bit. “It was definitely better with Percy there. He got too worked up when people, you know,” Acted like assholes, Annabeth wanted to say but nodded instead. Her mind focused on the ‘was’. “He could give Thalia a run for her money with the temper he’s got.”

“What do you mean was? I thought you guys went to school together.”

By the way Grover stiffened she could tell it was a touchy subject. “He’s going to a different school this year.”

“How come?”

“It’s not really my place to say.” Grover had always been a sensible person, careful with how he handled his friend’s personal business. Annabeth could respect that, but she still wondered. By the way that Grover referred to it she could only guess that Percy’s departure wasn’t amicable. The mention of Percy’s temper also struck her as odd since he’d seemed pretty friendly when she’d met him. “It wasn’t really his fault,” he added hastily at the sight of Annabeth’s face. “He’s just got pretty rotten luck to be honest.”

Annabeth nodded, understanding that that was as much as Grover was willing to share about that particular matter. It eased her mind a little bit that Grover was quick to defend him though, he’s always been a great judge of character. Mostly.

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

Percy couldn’t believe he’d let Rachel talk him into trying out for the swim team. He knew that Beckendorf held some of the blame as well, practically guiltying him into doing it. No doubt he’d also spoken with his mother since she just happened to know the date of the try-outs as well and had casually asked him if he was going to go for it. Percy knew that Sally had loved the fact that he’d joined the swim team at his last school. His grades had gotten slightly better and he had a good reason to be out of the apartment. Percy had even started considering the idea of college as an actual possibility for a while. Then people started asking too many questions. It was almost impossible to hide the bruises. It all fell apart pretty quickly after. He hadn’t forgotten the utter look of disappointment his mother had worn as the principal told her he wouldn’t be welcomed back to the school and that the other student’s family was likely to press charges. He couldn’t bare to do that to her again.

What am I doing? He asked himself for the millionth time that day as he walked out of the lockers, cap and goggles in hand. His heart was beating pretty fast, partly from nerves at the memory of what had happened the last time he’d been close to a pool, and partly in excitement at getting back in after so many months.

He was one of the first ones there. The blond guy he’d seen earlier in the week was there with three other freshmen-looking guys. He joined them wordlessly and got a brief nod from the blond captain. After about fifteen minutes, more boys started shuffling in. Percy could see the girls gathering around a tall brunette on the other side of the pool. Both captains signaled their groups to gather into one bigger group in the middle. “Alright! I believe this is everyone because if not you’re late!” Percy would never admit it but he actually set up about five alarms on his phone for particularly that reason. It was hard to keep track of time with his ADHD and he was known for being late. “My name is Lauren!”

“And I’m Cole,” chipped in blondie behind the taller girl.

“Right now we’re going to go through a standard warm up. If you’ve been on a team before you’re going to use the lanes on the right, if not use the ones on the left. The warm up is on the whiteboard behind me.” She pointed back and Percy started reading the routine. 400 free, 400 combined… Nothing fancy. “We’re not going to split you off into boys and girls just now but we will be walking around and rearranging some of you guys.”

“But first,” Cole chipped in once again. He was holding a CD player for some reason. “We stretch.” He hit play and Mulan’s ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’ started playing. He didn’t seem to notice the various eye rolls and groans that followed and happily started to lead the stretch. Percy had to bite down on his lip at the sight of Lauren doing windmills to the beat of Shang singing about honor and defeating the Huns with a completely stoic face. Both captains couldn’t be more different from each other.

Percy was moved three times throughout the warm up. By the end he was in a lane with two other guys and girls beside him. He’d always hated packed lanes both because he got kind of claustrophobic and because the constant brushing of his toes and having to slow down because of the person in front of him got on his nerves. One particular guy -he could only tell he was white behind his expensive goggles and cap- insisted on cutting ahead of him even when it was pretty obvious he was going extra hard to keep up with Percy’s pace. Percy forced himself to let it go since this was still only the warm-up.

After about twenty minutes they had them line up behind the diving blocks. “Okay! You’re all going to get two jumps! We only want to see your dives right now!” Lauren yelled over the commotion of about forty teenagers getting out of the pool. “Wait for my whistle!”

Percy waited for the five people in front of him to go. He felt his nerves mounting up in his chest as he got on the block. He almost realized too late that he’d actually failed to put his goggles on and barely had time to adjust them before the whistle went off. He landed smoothly in the water though, his hands touching the surface before anything else and letting himself glide for a couple of seconds before doing a dolphin kick to breach the surface. Braving a peak before ducking under the rail to the other lane, he saw that he’d reached just a little over half of the 25 meters. He swallowed his disappointment, last season he ate up more than three quarters of the pool with his dive.

As he lined up for his second dive, he made sure he had his goggles  were securely fastened, so by the time he was on the block again he felt much more confident. This time he reached his usual length. Things went pretty well from then on. They had them do a lap or two in each style, full speed, in medley order. Butterfly had always been Percy’s favorite style and he noticed some impressed nods as they noted his time of fifty four seconds for his hundred meter. Next came backstroke, followed by breaststroke, both of which Percy performed nicely at 58 and 57 seconds respectively.

They gave them some time to cool down before going for the fifty and one hundred meters freestyle. Percy’s nerves resurfaced as he waited for his turn to go for the fifty meters. He hadn’t missed Cole and Lauren talking to each other while sparing a few glances his way when he completed the hundred meters in 51 seconds. Even though he’s tied his personal best for the hundred everyone knew that the real show was in the fifty.

His heart started beating wildly when the guy in front of him completed his lap in twenty-four seconds. The girl afterwards swam it at twenty-eight earning an actual cheer from Lauren. Percy could tell she was pretty young, maybe even a freshman. His nerves were turning into actual nausea at this point. His arms felt heavy at his sides as he climbed up the block and he gave them a small shake before brushing his fingers against the ledge, toes curled around it. He let out a deep breath, tensed, and was off the block the second Lauren blew the whistle, his nerves vanishing the moment he hit the water. Percy’s only thoughts were faster, harder, keep it up, don’t slack. Before he knew it, his feet were kicking off the wall, his lungs begging him to come up but him waiting so as to not cut off his glide. That extra boost of speed that he always managed in the last couple of seconds kicked in and he was reaching, reaching…

“Nice!” Percy looked up at Cole as he broke the water, breathing heavily but looking expectantly at the chronometer. “Twenty-two point five!”

The co-captain helped him up and patted him on the back, Lauren beamed at him but was already looking at the next set of swimmers on the block. Twenty-two point five. He was five tenths shy of his personal best. That’s an Olympic qualifying time, Jackson. He remembered his last coach telling him. He’d swam it in twenty-two seconds during his last race. He tried not to think about it, but his stomach still churned in regret.

#ASoY #ASoY chpt 4 #colorsoulmate! AU #swimmer!percy #percabeth #real slowburn #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #ramwfics #ramwfic #pjo #pjo fic

[weshallc]

Nonnatun Christmas Card Exchange (FF4 Chapter 4)

Thank you so much for your continued support for these stories.I have made a lot of new friends through this experience and I am so grateful. The best Christmas present ever! Merry Christmas to you all. :0)

The most valuable thing I have learnt from writing and posting these stories is Keep Calm and @eatapinkwafer  ( thanks for that @rhianonscott-blog )

CHAPTER FOUR: The Rescue Centre

Patrick was still staring at her, from the driver’s seat. It was as If he knew where her mind had wandered too and was waiting for her to return home. Shelagh turned to him as she opened the passenger door of their car, “ We better hurry up, it looks like snow.”

Patrick met her at the boot and quickly stole a kiss. Shelagh’s head spun round in all directions. Patrick laughed, “Are you worried Constable Noakes will arrest us for indecent behaviour?”

“ If we are going to do this, I must insist on best behaviour at all times, Dr Turner.” She even managed a sly wink, the one she had been practicing of late in the bathroom mirror.

Shelagh wanted Patrick to lead the way up the institute stairs, but he insisted she went up ahead of him. Blissfully unaware of her companions true motives, not for the first time Shelagh remained unconvinced that gentlemanly conduct was always appropriate. Perspiring from a day spent in the over warm London and Patrick’s love of the car heater, Shelagh had left her coat in the car. 

Suddenly she felt very exposed and vulnerable. She froze on reaching the main hall door, she could hear music and feminine chatter. Patrick leaned over her to reach for the heavy hall door. Before pushing it open, he whispered in her ear,

“They love you, we all do.”

The momentum of him leaning against her, propelled her gently forward through the open door. He announced their arrival with a corny, “We come bearing gifts.”

Nat King Cole on Trixie’s record player didn’t miss a beat, but everyone else fell silent and turned their attention to the door. Patrick moved swiftly, very aware of the tension in his sweetheart. He dumped his packages on the nearest flat surface and returned to Shelagh taking her burdens from her and belatedly returning her wink. 

Patrick wasn’t the only one to notice the fear in Shelagh’s eyes and Sister Julienne was soon across,fussing over the donations and welcoming the couple in.

Shelagh suddenly found herself in a bubble of protection from the 2 people,who loved her the most. Her confidence returned as she started to help with the unpacking.

Suddenly she felt warm hands in hers, the grip was tight and she turned to find herself face to face with Trixie. The young midwife pulled the ex-nun aside. It was only then, that Shelagh realized the girl whose firm grip she was in, had tears in her eyes.

“I have missed you, I will never forgive myself! You needed a friend and I was blind to it. You could have told me! You could have confided in me! You could have trusted me! You were never really alone, you just thought you were.”

Trixie gave one last squeeze of her friends hands before she let go. “Tell me, are you happy?” Shelagh was still reeling from Trixie’s unexpected welcome and just managed a smile and a nod.

Trixie had lowered her voice during her conversation with her old mentor, but it was not lost on the rest of the gathering, that the friends reunion had deeply affected them both. Help came from an unexpected source.

“Now enough of all that, you two! What we really want to know is,how is the boy?”

Patrick’s Voice was shrill and overly bright, as he tried to reassure everyone that Timothy was doing just fine and making a splendid recovery. The wise Sister grabbed the doctor’s arm. “ He will be alright Dr Turner, remember what his mother said when I brought him into the world.”

It was now Patrick’s turn to be wrong footed. He didn’t know whether it was being reminded of his promise to Marianne or the identity of his reminder. Patrick had to admit since the announcement of his and Shelagh’s engagement, he hadn’t actually relished working with Sister Evangelina. The nun although never discourteous or disrespectful, hadn’t exactly been a ray of sunshine either.

Trixie had now regaining her composure. Feeling a little insecure at revealing her true feelings to her long lost friend, she tossed her hair in defiance. 

Shelagh was starting to find her feet chatting to Jenny about the Nonnatus closure.Nurse Lee was explaining that she had received forewarning about the impending demolition of the convent, prior to the recent events that had hastened it.

“ Alec?” Queried Shelagh.

“Oh Sweetie, you are so behind in all the gossip? Alec! I told you about him in that beastly sanatorium, Jenny’s latest conquest. I suppose you had your mind on other things.” Trixie was definitely feeling better and wanting to regain some sense of control.

“Yes, recovering from Tuberculosis.” A protective Cynthia interjected. Trixie ignored her.

“ You know, you are not the only one to have had your head turned in the last few months.” She continued as she dared a sly glance in Dr Turner’s direction.

Chummy gave Trixie a stare the Poplar Cub Pack were only too familiar with. She handed baby Freddie to Shelagh to try and divert the current trajectory of the conversation. 

Trixie opened her mouth and Cynthia in a quiet but forceful tone whispered, 

“ Don’t you dare Trixie, don’t say it.” 

Trixie shrugged her shoulders,” All I was going to say, was how much I like your outfit, Shelagh. That skirt is simply to die for, it fits you perfectly.” 

Shelagh coloured, but Cynthia let Trixie continue, her previous colleague did look attractive and she would have to probably get used to compliments about her appearance.

“ You are simply divine, Sweetie.Who knew what you were hiding under that habit all those years?Well obviously someone had an idea.”  

Cynthia couldn’t apologize enough for her friends behaviour, blaming it on too many babychams at Alec’s earlier in the day and dragged Trixie away for a strong cup of Nescafé.

Shelagh handed Freddie back to his mother, her eyes searching for Patrick.It was definitely time to be going. He seemed to be mediating between Sister Evangelina, Sister Monica Joan and a newly delivered Christmas cake.

Sister Monica Joan peevishly turned her back on her sister and the cake, but not before secreting a mince pie up her habit sleeve. Shelagh smiled, she realized how much her self imposed exile had cost her these magical moments. 

The senior nun noticed the lovely young woman smiling kindly at her. “You have returned to us once more, I see.”The nun moved towards Shelagh, “It is also fortuitous that you arrive in time for Evensong.”

The older woman had both of Shelagh’s hands held together and cocooned in her own. As if in the state of conjoined prayer. Both women for most of their working lives had suffered from dry chapped skin on their palms and fingers. Without the need for constant washing, the use of harsh disinfectants and the sparse use of hand cream, both women’s hands were now soft due to the change in direction both their lives had afforded them.

Shelagh tried to catch Patrick’s eye, while trying to explain to the nun, that she couldn’t stay.

“Why do you look to him, for permission?” Suddenly there was a tangible tension in the room. Trixie’s tears and subsequent teasing were one thing, but Sister Monica Joan’s comments had the ability to cut right to the heart of the matter on occasion, without censure.

“ You answer to no-one. You have renounced your religious vows.” Shelagh stiffened and Sister Julienne moved towards the pair. Sister Monica Joan continued, “ If I am not very much mistaken, you have not yet repeated different vows to your new Lord and Master.”

Mouths opened, fingers twitched, feet shuffled, no-one dare look at Dr Turner.

“ You will never find yourself again as free as you are on this blessed day. You are under no obligation to anyone. Why not rejoice in that fact, my dear. Before you surrender yourself again to a destiny you will never again chart alone.”

Shelagh blinked the tears back. Sister Monica Joan smiled, “ Partake in the privilege of free will, while you can,my Sister.”

Patrick was the first to speak,“Stay Shelagh.” Sister Monica Joan shot him a look of defiance. “ If that’s what you want?” He swiftly added. 

“ Why don’t you both stay?” Sister Julienne suggested.

Patrick Turner was used to being the only man in a room full of women, but at this particular moment, all he wanted was to be heading down the institute stairs. It had been Shelagh who had been reticent in coming, but he knew it was imperative for her to stay and for him to take his leave.

Shelagh walked Patrick to their car she flung her arms around him, unconcerned that PC Noakes or anyone else might see. He promised her he would return in an hour, in a way that made an hour sound like a lifetime. On opening the car door he threw her a cheeky grin, 

“Don’t you be setting off on your own and make me come and find you in the snow.”

“ Don’t keep me waiting then,” she called after him and he was gone. She knew he would back for her, but that sensation of being lost, gripped her again.

Patrick had meant well, Sister Monica Joan had meant well, they had all meant well. None of them could understood the inner turmoil raging inside her at this moment.

Could she really go back in there and join the Sisters in lifting their voices to praise God. Would He understand, would He think her a hypocrite. No,not think, He would know. She would make an excuse and take her leave.

As Shelagh aimlessly climbed the institute stairs, alone this time. Flicking the lighter she had worked all day to master. She studied the words engraved on it ‘Completely Certain.’

‘Completely Certain,’ had not so long ago been such a clear statement of romance, clarity, intent, truth and faith. Now these concepts seemed hazy, unreachable at best. She now was more familiar with desire, impulse, craving, necessity, endurance and fight. She was now completely certain only of these things.

At the top of the stairs stood a solitary figure.“He loves you very much, everyone can see that,” remarked the kindhearted Cynthia.

“And you him?” 

“Yes”

“ Do you mind me asking?” Cynthia paused. Shelagh let her to continue.

“ How could you be so certain that this is what He meant for you?”

The introverted nurse was the first person to ask Shelagh that question. Patrick had never asked her, even Sister Julienne had not asked that question. It had been the only question, Shelagh had asked herself for 3 long months.

She knew the answer now, “ His meaning is love.”

The young midwife linked her friends arm and asked, “Shall we go in now and offer up our thanks to our Lord.”

Shelagh smiled. “ I think that would be most appropriate.”

#ctm #fanfic #turnadette #shelagh mannion #patrick turner #nuns #midwives #christmas 1958

[bigyack-com]

Where Are the Tech Zillionaires? San Francisco Faces the I.P.O. Fizzle

SAN FRANCISCO — Seven months ago, the Four Seasons in San Francisco sent out a news release announcing the glad tidings that would come soon: New residences for the new money. Builders were hoisting glass and steel into a 43-story tower where residents would have their own on-staff wine concierge, plus Blue de Savoie French marble, German milled Poggenpohl cabinetry and Dornbracht fixtures. The building’s $49 million penthouse would be the most expensive in San Francisco. “Just in time for the coming wave of I.P.O. millionaires in San Francisco,” the Four Seasons said, promising “an elevated sales experience” to cater to “this new class of buyers.” But then the wave of tech initial public offerings — the one that was supposed to mint San Francisco’s new ultra rich — fizzled. The stock of Uber, the ride-hailing giant, has dropped nearly 30 percent since the company went public in May. Lyft shares are down nearly 40 percent. Pinterest and Slack have declined, too. San Francisco has been left as a slightly more normal town of tech workers who got rich-ish, maybe making a few hundred thousand dollars. But that doesn’t go far in a city where the median cost of a single family home is about $1.6 million. “Everyone that came back post-I.P.O. seemed to be the same person. I didn’t see any Louis Vuitton MacBook case covers or champagne in their Yeti thermos,” said J.T. Forbus, a tax manager at Bogdan & Frasco in San Francisco.Private wealth managers are now meeting with a chastened clientele. Developers are having to cut home prices — unheard-of a year ago. Party planners are signing nondisclosure agreements to stage secret parties where hosts can privately enjoy their wealth. Union organizers are finding an opportunity. Everyone had gotten too excited, and who could blame them? The money was once so close: A start-up that coordinated dog walkers raised $300 million. The valuations of the already giant ride-hailing behemoths had nearly doubled again. WeWork, a commercial real estate management start-up that owned very little of its own real estate, was valued at $47 billion. Towers rose across San Francisco to house the money. The marble was polished. The bathroom floors were warm. The private pools were being filled.“The world has changed in a year,” said Herman Chan, a real estate broker with Sotheby’s International. “We expected an upward trajectory at least, and it really kind of deflated. These companies aren’t dying but the cultural zeitgeist, that momentum of I.P.O.s, is gone. You don’t even hear anyone talking about it anymore.”The developers who had fought the odds of regulation and zoning to build their glass residences in the sky had timed their units to the I.P.O.s. But on a recent visit with the Four Seasons sales team, they acknowledged that techie wealth was not what they were seeing. Interest was mostly coming from overseas buyers, young heirs to foreign fortunes and older executives looking for city pieds-à-terre, they said. Also in time for the wave that was not a wave are more luxury towers: The Avery, The Harrison, 181 Fremont, The Mira. “The definition of luxury is scarcity, and there’s so many now,” Mr. Chan said. “Nowadays, my buyers are getting a contingency period and inspectors. Things you would never ask for before. There’s not 10 offers on a house anymore.”Case in point: A full-floor apartment in San Francisco’s poshest neighborhood of Pacific Heights was listed at $21.6 million and advertised that “a sommelier-worthy wine cellar awaits 1,500 of your most prized bottles.” But more than a year later and after a $5 million price cut, it is still on the market. Prices for the top 5 percent of San Francisco area real estate listings — the cream of the crop — rose 7 percent between 2017 and 2018. This year, they have fallen more than 1 percent, according to data prepared for The New York Times by the real estate listing service Zillow. The malaise has spread south into Silicon Valley. A $10.8 million home listing in the town of Portola Valley, Calif., was slashed to $5.7 million. The median sale price for a nearby home in San Jose, Calif., has dropped 10 percent in a year to just under $1 million, according to data from the real-estate listing site Zillow. Before the tech I.P.O.s, Deniz Kahramaner, then a real estate data analyst with the property brokerage Compass, had rallied packed rooms of real estate agents and investors about the bonanza that lay ahead. He had charts and estimates of thousands of new millionaires raising the average price of single family homes in San Francisco above $5 million.Now, he is more muted. “The I.P.O. cash-out hasn’t played out as I mentioned in my original presentation,” he said. Mr. Kahramaner added, hopefully, that it was still early. “People need more time,” he said.

Wealth and Unions

Instead of yachts, tech workers are funding more mundane ventures like college savings plans. “This year brought a lot of people back to reality,” said Ryan S. Cole, a private wealth adviser at Citrine Capital, a wealth management firm in San Francisco. “We’ve had a lot of people fund 529 plans for their kids. Pretty boring stuff.”Some private wealth managers said they were actually somewhat relieved. “At the end of the day, it’s funny money until it’s realized," said Jonathan DeYoe, another private wealth adviser. “I’ve got Uber and Lyft clients that are disappointed. It’s a different house now. It’s a different school situation for the kids. But they’re still by and large in good places. No one’s impoverished.”And so workers who thought they would upgrade from Allbirds to Berluti shoes are remaining, after all, in the Allbirds.As some rank-and-file tech workers realize they might not get rich from company stock, the allure of working long hours without comparable real money pay is also wearing thin, said labor organizers. They have found traction this year in an industry long resistant to unions. “The incentives to take the licks that you do are in the hope of some sort of big payoff down the road,” said Paul Thurston, who focuses on unionizing San Francisco tech workers and is the organizing director at the International Federation of Professional and Technical Engineers. Now, “the engineers and the app designer and the developers are going to be treated a lot more like the employees that they are rather than like partners, which is what they’re told pre-I. P. O.,” he said.Jonathan Wright, the organizing director of Engineers and Scientists of California, said he was in talks to unionize the workers of several big tech companies. “There’s a promise: you work 100 hours a week, you sleep under your desk, and then you’ll be rewarded with the wealth of Bezos,” Mr. Wright said. “That mythology has been fading for years. The day of the unicorn is over.”Where there is new wealth, it’s coming from the older tech companies like Apple and Alphabet, whose stocks this year have soared. And some fortunes are still being made from the I.P.O.s. While Uber’s shares have fallen, the company’s co-founder, Travis Kalanick, has sold off more than $2 billion in stock, according to securities filings. “Especially with things like Uber, almost all the I.P.O. wealth was going to a couple of people,” said Kalena Masching, a Redfin agent in San Jose. “They are not looking to buy a standard house here.”Another bright spot: female-led companies, with more becoming unicorns in 2019 than any other year, according to Aileen Lee, the venture capitalist who coined the phrase “unicorn” to refer to a private company valued at $1 billion or more.And post-I.P.O. parties are happening. They are just secret — and phone-free. “We’re signing a lot more nondisclosures,” said Jay Siegan, who curates party entertainment for corporate tech clients. “A year ago, people would set up social media stations at the party, signs with the hashtag for Instagram. Now we have clients asking guests to check their phones at the door or using those Yondr bags.”These are pouches used to lock phones en masse at concerts and events where someone might be tempted to record.

Self Reflection

However, in public, the tech world is all about reflection and self-critiquing after the year that was. The I.P.O. disappointment has gotten so extreme that two Silicon Valley techies are setting out to do what few have done before: Make fun of themselves. David Cowan, a venture capitalist with Bessemer Venture Partners, which invested in Lyft, and Michael Fertik, the founder of Reputation.com, are launching an online talk show called “The Bubble Report.” It will feature interviews with other tech executives. The point, they hope, is to poke fun at Silicon Valley from within Silicon Valley.Mr. Cowan, either in character or just being very honest, decried the falling stock prices of newly public tech companies as victims of cruel Wall Street analysts.“It should be against the law for unscrupulous analysts to assess stocks based on cash flow and profit, to impugn a company based on eight lines of a financial report,” he joked. “Imagine how much more value we’d have in the stock market if we got rid of that arcane thinking.” Mr. Fertik said his inspiration to mock his industry came in part from realizing how far from reality it had all gotten. “I want people to understand that Silicon Valley is a deeply religious place that thinks of itself as agnostic,” he said. “It has some of the strengths and many of the frailties of organized religion.”For now, most people are waking up to find they are still on Earth. This is good news for those in San Francisco who mostly viewed the tech exuberance as bad news: housing rights activists, first-time home buyers, and renters. “We are excited by any resetting of Bay Area rents that bring them down from their artificially inflated high,” said Fred Sherburn-Zimmer, the executive director of Housing Rights Committee, which fights against evictions. “Eventually all bubbles burst.” Read the full article

#0financetechnology #0technologydrive #03technologysolutions #057technology #0dbtechnology #0gtechnology #1/0technologycorp #2000stechnology #3technologybets #3technologybetsgenpact #3technologycircuithallam #3technologydrivemilpitasca95035 #3technologydrivewestboroughmassachusetts01581 #3technologyplace #360technewshindi #3dprintingtechnews #3dtechnews #3mtechnologynews #4technologycomponentsofcrm #4technologydr #4technologydrive #4technologydrivelondonderrynh03053 #4technologydrivepeabodyma #4technologydrivepeabodyma01960 #4technologydrivewestboroughma #4technologywaysalemma #42technologynews #5technologycareers #5technologydrive #5technologydriveirvineca

[wrestlewriting]

Be Here Now, Pt. 1 [Adam Cole]

Title: Be Here Now, Part One of ? This is the sequel to Insolence. To read Insolence (which is recommended) here you go: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve Characters: Adam Cole/Brenna(OC) Genre: Fluff. Angst. Romance. Length: 4,300 Warnings: Listen. We’ve all been around for a bit now. If I’m not cursing in a story, have I really written it? Summary/Inspo: Time to catch up with the babes! The winds of change are coming.

Be here now, no other place to be All the doubts that linger, just set them free And let good things happen And let the future come into each moment Like a rising sun Mason Jennings - Be Here Now

So I tagged those that asked to be, that are on my tag list, and that liked the first story. If you want to added or removed please let me know! :)

@running-ropes @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegenericluchadora @wrestlingnoob @alexahood21 @castielscamander @cosmicswimming @spine-buster @heelturn-timesten @crookedmoonsaultpunk @morgunsilver @wrasslin-rollins @imnobodiesbitch @morgancorbin @reigningambrollins @ryrybebe @bbmbabe @allhailthe-demonking @rebelfleur22 @alynevelludo2 @im-indestructible @heelstarla @sixdegreesofsamson @vixxyvampire @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13 @spot-of-bother @bolieve-that @theelitevillian @sleeplessandcynical @nopeitsnat @wweismyguiltypleasure @superkixbaybay @thedeboniardevistation @bulletbaybay @msgem @karleedaniels27 @heeltothequeen

Backstage at Ring of Honor felt... different. It seemed that everyone was somehow aware of what tonight would bring.

Tonight was the third night of the annual ‘War of the Worlds’ event, which combined NJPW with ROH and there was never a dull moment to be had. But the vibe in the locker room felt more… electric, than usual. Something in the air spoke of change and progression and loss.

Brenna knew exactly why.

Adam had grown in ROH. He had started years ago in the company, had made a name for himself in the company, held titles in the company.

And now he was going to walk away from it all.

It was just a little over two months in this exact building where Adam and Brenna had decided to give their relationship a genuine go. And it was just a week less than that since their Las Vegas tryst. Things were going well, all considered. Surprisingly, they had found it easier than anticipated to meet up in each other’s cities when not on shows. Though of course locker rooms still provided their most common rendezvous spot.

After tonight, that would change. There were two more days, one more TV taping, that Adam was to be a part of ROH. This was his last ROH PPV. This was the last big one officially.

This was Adam’s last night in The Bullet Club.

“Hey, kid.” Brenna looked up from where she’d been zoned out looking at her phone, finding Christopher Daniels sitting down in the chair beside her.

“Hey,” she replied, pretending to click off her phone, even though it hadn’t even been on. Brenna uncrossed and then again crossed her legs, adjusting herself in the beige and black sleeveless color block dress.

“Hiding out?” he questioned.

“No, just waiting to be called upon to do my part tonight.”

“Yeah? Then why are you all the way back here?” Brenna looked around the area, noticing a few people at the distant end of the hallway moving about. She hadn’t really realized she’d placed herself in a less busy area of the arena, away from the locker rooms. When she’d left the downstairs level of locker rooms, she had just wandered a bit, until she found a place to sit down that was quiet.

“Wasn’t on purpose,” she insisted. “I’m just staying out of the way.”

“So…should I start sending birthday cards to Pennsylvania?”

“Not a chance,” Brenna stated with a roll of her eyes to which he laughed. “We’re just gonna keep doing what we do, and see where it all takes us.”

“Brenna Marlow, just going with the flow? You have changed,” Christopher teased. Immediately she punched him in the arm, scrunching up her face towards him. He sold the hit, rubbing his arm and laughing, which she tried not to smile at.

“With the year I’ve had, it was bound to happen,” she pointed out, and the joking nature faded away with her words. “Guess I had to learn the hard way I can’t always have control, and you can’t always plan for everything.”

“Yeah, but you can still plan enough,” he replied. “Don’t change too much on me, alright?”

“No promises,” Brenna smirked. With his own look towards her, he stood back up to leave. He reached out towards her hair, and she anticipated what he was going to do, throwing her arm up to block him and push him away. She did not want her side fishtail braid messed up. “Go be old somewhere else!”

“Mean,” Christopher declared. She blew him a kiss, and with a chuckle, he finally turned and left. Brenna watched him walk away for a moment before looking back down at her phone to check the time. It was just under a half hour to bell time, and she figured it was a good time for her to head back to the production area. Adam was a part of the pre-show meet and greet, along with the Bucks and Briscoes, so she knew she wouldn’t be seeing them just yet. She hoped everyone was getting along.

The last she’d seen of Adam tonight had been almost two hours ago when they’d had some dinner together, along with the Bucks and Marty. The conversation had steered clear of the plan for tonight, and Brenna knew the boys had done that for her benefit. Everyone was walking on eggshells around her, she could tell. Tonight was a big change for her as much as it was for Adam, and it seemed that everyone was still handling her a bit with fragile gloves.

Coming upon the production area behind the curtain, she slid up to stand beside Kevin and Ian. Conversation flowed easily, going over match listings for the night, any last minute changes, and segment plans.

When a hand came to rest lightly against the small of her back, she startled just a bit, causing the person to laugh lowly, and Ian and Kevin to smirk.

“Easy, Bren,” Adam’s voice soothed her. “Just me.”

“I hate when you fucking do that,” she reminded him, turning to give him a short glare as he stood beside her.

“Half of why I do it,” he admitted.

“You done with the signing?”

“I am. Gonna go down to the locker room and get ready with the guys. Just wanted to see you first,” Adam explained. Brenna could feel her cheeks warm a bit, not so much at his words, but at them being said in front of her colleagues, so casually. It was still a bit unfamiliar for her to have their relationship for all to see. She’d obviously never dated a coworker before, and it was a learning experience.

“Sounds like a plan,” she stated. “Try not to suck tonight.”

“I will do my very best,” he confirmed with a stiff nod of his head before a wide grin took over his face. When he leaned down to kiss her, she couldn’t help her own smile from forming after he broke away from her. “See you later.” Her response was to kiss him again.

“Later,” Brenna echoed as she moved a bit away from him, allowing him to leave. When she looked back at Ian and Kevin, she found Cary was also standing with them. All three had matching grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, all of you.”

“What! It’s just nice to see you happy,” Kevin defended the three of them, Ian nodding.

“Let’s just focus on work, please?” Cary, thankfully, took her lead and began to explain to her about the opening segment that would be introducing the G1 special that NJPW was going to have in California.

Soon enough, the PPV started. The dark matches went well, and from there the show officially began. Brenna felt like she lost track of time as she sat to the side, watching match after match. Ian announced the matches for the first half of the night, which allowed her to actually enjoy some of the show.

And then it was the second to last match.

It was truly show time. Adam had requested that she be the one to be the announcer for his match. He said he wanted her to be a part of his night officially.

Brenna had to swallow to get rid of the catch in her throat as she announced his entrance into the arena.

Watching him walk down the ramp and aisle, all swagger and confidence, dressed in his standard leather jacket and wet hair, resonated with her.

Brenna spared a short glance at Adam as he made his way towards the ring, understanding he was far more focused on his opponent for the night, and the after-match plan. After sliding through the ropes, Brenna set the mic down on the commentary table and picked up her cell phone. She missed the way Adam looked at her as she walked away, waiting until he was standing on the edge of the ring to go back up the ramp. Her eyes remained head of herself as she walked into the back behind the staging, Adam’s music playing around her.

She didn’t pause while passing any of the workers or any of the locker room that were mingling around watching the monitors.

She didn’t notice the quick look Jay Briscoe gave her. Or the longer sympathetic gaze she got from The Young Bucks.

It wasn’t until she reached the back parking lot did Brenna finally feel like she could breathe again.

There was probably about 20 minutes until she would need to head back in. She knew the match was allotted around 15 minutes of action, and then about 5 minutes for post-match chaos, give or take. Brenna planned to spend all the possible minutes she could far away from the ring. It was maybe dumb to outsiders but she knew it was the only way she’d make it through the rest of the show.

As much as she wanted to be the supportive girlfriend, she couldn’t reconcile watching her boyfriend for all intents and purposes move on from such a huge part of his career, of their lives. It was bittersweet in so many ways, and she would rather not have her emotions on display for everyone to see.

The fact that she was in a back parking lot of an arena, hiding away, wasn’t lost on her either. Somehow back parking lots at arenas had become a common setting for moments in her life and relationship with Adam.

Brenna passed the time on her phone, looking at reactions on Twitter to the show so far, scrolling through Instagram mindlessly. It seemed like the minutes went by slowly, as she did everything in her power to focus elsewhere than what was going on in the building behind her.

When the time had ticked down far enough, she headed back in. As she walked closer to the main floor, she could tell based on the sounds that the match was over. Soon enough she heard Kenny’s voice loud and clear, which confused her because she knew he wasn’t present. By the time she came to the production area, having slowed her walk, she looked at a monitor to see Adam laid out in the ring.

The monitor she was looking at cut away to a video package promoting the next match, and she was thankful for that.

A minute later, Adam was walking back through the curtain, to the applause of the production team. Cary and he embraced, and she watched as words were whispered between them. Adam shook hands with and accepted words from a few of the other workers before his eyes came to her. She couldn’t pinpoint the emotion he was showing, but it was a lot.

“I have to get out there,” she stated, indicating with her head she meant the ring. “Glad you survived.”

“Another one down,” Adam confirmed. With a smile, Brenna put a hard kiss to his mouth and then quickly left the area.

One more match to announce and the night would be done.

It went by fast, with Daniels retaining his championship. As he walked passed her to go back up the ramp, he did, in fact, ruffle her hair up a bit.

“Jackass!” she shouted after him, causing many of the fans around her to laugh. As the fans started to clear out of the building, Brenna left the floor along with the announce team and other workers. When she got into the back, she was immediately surrounded by the chaos of packing up. After making sure her mic pack was secured away, she went down to her own dressing area to change out of her dress and heels.

And then, that’s where she stayed. She knew Adam would have post-show interviews, moments with the locker room to enjoy. It was important to her that he got time with “the boys”. She was going home with him, so she’d have her time then. But tonight was the end of an era for him, and she wanted him to take as much time as he wanted to enjoy it.

Brenna passed the time by taking off her show makeup, which was always thicker and tougher to get off. She packed up her bags, making sure nothing was forgotten. After dressing down into her sweatpants and a t-shirt, she sat down to play games on her phone.

“Hey! There you are.” Brenna lifted her eyes from her phone, taking in Adam’s appearance. He was back in jeans and a flannel, all traces of his wrestling persona gone

“Hey,” she replied, locking her phone, setting it beside herself on the empty folding chair. “You done for the night?”

“I am,” he confirmed, coming into the room, shutting the door behind himself, leaning back against it. “You alright?”

“Yep.” Adam’s eyebrows went up a bit at her quick response. “…tired.”

“Keep talkin’.” With each step he took further into the room, Brenna felt her emotions that she’d tried so hard to shove deep down, surfacing. As soon as Adam reached her, and moved her phone to sit in the other chair, she was entirely focused on keeping her breathing even. If she focused on that, she could control the rest of herself.

“Just…been a hell of a night,” she quietly stated.

“Did you watch?”

“No.” Brenna continued to look away, not wanting to see his face at her answer.

“…why not?”

“Didn’t want to.” She knew she was being aloof, and her reasons for hiding away in the back were probably somewhat childish, but she couldn’t help herself.

“We talked about this….”

They had. More than once, actually. More times than Brenna really remembered.

After the meeting in Florida a month ago, it had been discussed regularly between them. Sometimes in small anecdotes, sometimes at full-length. What would happen if Adam changed promotions, if he didn’t. How it could change his career, the pros and cons. The impact it would have on them, as a couple. If they could manage long-distance, or needed to be together more often than not.

Brenna could still remember the last conversation they’d had about it when she was at his place a couple weeks ago, sharing beers in the darkened living room at night.

“I talked to Kyle today.” Adam’s statement wasn’t necessarily out of the blue, but it was. They hadn’t been talking at the time about anything, instead watching the TV playing Conan O’Brien’s talk show.

“How’s he doing?”

“Says alright,” he replied. “He and Maddie sound like they’re gonna try to have a family soon.”

“Aw! Good on them,” Brenna stated, taking a sip from her bottle. “It’s gotta be nice with him home and all more than before.”

“Yea,” Adam agreed shortly. “He uh, he was telling me though that may be changing in a couple months though.”

“Oh?” Brenna quirked an eyebrow, looking over towards Adam. While she was curled into the arm of the couch, he was in the recliner a foot away beside her.

“Sounds like he’s thinking about going about some other avenues he hasn’t been down before.” Adam’s words were vague to the casual ear, but to Brenna, a tried and true wrestler, she knew exactly what he was saying.

“I’m not surprised,” she finally said, shrugging one shoulder. “Kyle’s kind of in the same boat as you. He’s done a fuck ton, and it’s only right he gets a chance to see what else is out there, see what kind of life he can make for himself. And especially if he and Maddie wanna have kids. That consistency will mean a lot.”

“…so what if I did the same?” Adam’s gaze moved to meet hers, his fingers trailing along his beer bottle.

“That’s your call,” Brenna replied. “I’ve said that for a while now. You need to do what you want. What you think will play out the best for you.”

“You do keep saying that,” he agreed. “But you…you matter too in this situation. And I want you to tell me, honestly, from your heart, what you want for us.”

“You’re crazy,” she deflected, both of them knowing she was doing just that.

“Bren….” With his gentle chastising, Brenna looked back towards the TV. She could feel his eyes still on her, however. “Baby, please, just…just tell me your…your ideal. What, uh, what you’d want to happen for us.”

“Whatever keeps us together regularly, at least our known version of regular,” Brenna answered, not looking towards him.

“If I have to move, will you work with me on that?”

She hoped he didn’t see the way her eyes closed tightly as she took in a sharp breath. It was a question she knew would come eventually, but she hadn’t anticipated it now.

“Adam….”

“No, I know that tone. No, Bren,” he declared. “Tell me, right now, up front, if I have to be gone more than I’m close, will you work with me on that?”

She didn’t know what to say. She knew he was referencing Florida without saying it, but it was all still so hypothetical.

Adam and she had come so, so far in a few months. Going from a confused hatred, to an understanding, to a supportive relationship. It was hard to say, at least for Brenna, what she wanted or expected. This was still very new, uncharted territory.

When Brenna had gotten in this relationship, it had been a risk for her. Letting go of her past, of her pain, it wasn’t easy. Trusting Adam, taking his history in stride, defending themselves against people she loved…. No one would call it an easy road. And just went she thought maybe things were smooth sailing, there had to be a hiccup in the plan. A big hiccup, at that.

That was life though, wasn’t it?

Adam was most certainly not renewing his ROH contract, while she was still expected to continue her ring duties and occasional wrestling. He had talks with others, possibilities, but nothing solid lined up. It was all hypothetical and day by day, and how could anyone plan with life like that?

“Can we just cross that bridge when we come to it?” she questioned, looking towards him from under her eyelashes. “God dude, we’ve barely settled into ourselves as it is.”

“People get married in less time than we’ve been together.”

“So you wanna get married?” Her eyes met his fully, as she lifted her eyebrows in challenge.

“OK, smart-ass, I get it,” Adam conceded, causing her to relax her face. “I just… we’ve worked too hard to get here, for me to fuck it up. I don’t want to fuck it up. We made a deal, no secrets, no hiding shit. I need you to be open with me on this.”

“I am being open,” she argued. “I want you to do what you want. What you think will make you happy. Just…I want you to think it all through for you and do that. I’ll be here. We’ll figure this out, whatever it is. We’ve figured it out so far. I think we can keep that up.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what you want?”

“I am!” Brenna responded with force. “I want you to be happy. To choose what you want. The rest of it, us, whatever, we can work on it, figure it out. I haven’t put in this much work, this much struggle, to just walk away from you for now.”

Adam didn’t say anything at first, allowing Brenna to move her gaze from him, taking a long drink from her beer as she did so.

“I’m not trying to argue with you,” he finally spoke, his tone soft. “I just… your opinion means a lot to me. It always has.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said. Chewing at her lip, she decided to give him somewhat what he was asking for.

“Do I think going into WWE is a crap shoot? Most certainly. You either get to do good there or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. It happens or it doesn’t. And you can’t predict that. It seems you can’t have a lot of control in it either. But, if that’s what you wanna try, if that’s what you’re up for, then I won’t tell you not to.

“And if instead you want to take time away from it all, and do random indie shows, and just kind of have a calm life like Kyle’s been doing, I’m here for that too. It’s not like I’m leaving California anytime soon. Whether I fly from there to here to see your or somewhere else, it can be arranged.”

Adam just nodded slightly, and Brenna turned back towards the TV, effectively ending the conversation. Her beer was empty a moment later.

Adam had stopped pestering her after that, realizing she wasn’t going to change her stance on the matter. This was his life, his career, and he had to do what he wanted and felt was best. She couldn’t stop him or influence him overtly. She had to support him and his dreams. Because for all she knew, his career might outlast their relationship.

But either way, she did want the best for him, wanted him to be happy with his choices for his life. Of course, that didn’t mean she loved what he had decided on.

“Sweetheart….”

“Don’t, Adam,” she replied, finally turning for her eyes to meet his. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to be driving too late.” Standing up, she went to reach for her phone where he’d set it. Adam took the opportunity to grab her hand in his, pulling her between his legs.

“Sit,” he ordered, tugging on her hand to bring her closer. With a sigh, Brenna followed his direction, setting herself on his leg, perpendicular to him. He let go of her hand, sliding his arm around her back, his fingertips resting on the skin of her hip just beneath her shirt.

Brenna leaned her head onto his shoulder, her eyes closing when he turned to kiss her forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, his breath warm as it ghosted on her skin. For some reason, it was this action that made the tears start to prick at her eyes.

“I’m being stupid,” she mumbled.

“You’re being my girlfriend, or at the very least a good friend,” Adam argued. Brenna couldn’t help but smile slightly at his words. She blinked a few times rapidly, attempting to keep her tears contained.

“It’s just… it’s stupid,” she repeated, lamented. “It’s not like I’m not seeing you ever again. Obviously.”

“But it’s going to be maybe less, or take a lot more effort to do that.”

“This is just… this is how we met, ya know? And everything that’s gone on with us, I dunno. I guess without this stupid fucking company it wouldn’t have happened.”

“We have a lot of memories here.”

“And like, I know how much this place means to you. And I’m so proud of you and all you’ve done and to just walk away…I don’t know. I just want everything to be so great for you no matter what.”

“Again, you’re a really great girlfriend.”

“Stop validating my crazy,” she demanded, making him chuckle softly.

“You’re not crazy,” Adam countered. “I agree with you on all of this. So I guess if you’re crazy, then so am I.”

“I mean, that would explain why you’re with a girl who straight up decked you once,” Brenna conceded, trying to keep her smile hidden.

“Nice, baby. Thank you for that reminder,” he stated plainly. Brenna couldn’t help the giggle that came next, lifting her head from his shoulder so she was able to look at him. He too was smiling, his eyes gliding across her face, taking her in. “I’m kind of looking forward to having free time to be with you.”

“Me too.”

“We are very much planning a vacation.”

“Oh, we are?”

“We are,” Adam confirmed.

“And where are we going?”

“That part is up for discussion,” he replied. “But I’m thinking somewhere quiet, just us, where we can just… be.”

“I will not die in a cabin in the woods for you,” Brenna said seriously.

“Stop watching so many horror movies.”

“I can’t! I love them!”

“And then you have nightmares, and all these paranoid thoughts, that I have to deal with,” Adam reminded her.

“Oh, you can handle it just fine.” He looked at her for a moment before kissing her lips softly. Brenna reciprocated the action, bringing her hand up to his face, holding him close to her. They broke apart a moment later, remaining close, each of their breaths mingling warmly with the others.

“Let’s go,” Adam whispered. “Wanna be home with you.”

“No complaints here,” Brenna agreed. She stood up from him, going to grab her bags. Adam immediately took her suitcase, which she had learned to not comment on. He wanted to be helpful to her, and she had to swallow her protests and just let him.

“Hey, you remember two months ago when we were here?” Adam asked casually as they made their way through the hallways.

“Mmhmm,” Brenna murmured, wrapping her arms around his free one, walking beside him.

“We haven’t done too bad since then, huh?” He glanced over and down at her, a playful gleam to his eyes.

“Me and you.”

“Me and you,” Adam concurred. With a bashful smile, Brenna looked forward again as they headed towards the door to leave. It was uncertain what was going to be happening in the next few weeks, but it was nice to have Adam with her to figure it out.

Everything looks different now. All this time my head was down. He came along and showed me how to let go. I can’t remember where I’m from, All I know is who I’ve become. That our love has just begun like….

#adam cole fan fiction #adam cole fanfic #adam cole imagine #adam cole fan fic #adam cole #wrestling fan fiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling imagine #wrestling fan fic #roh fanfic #roh fan fic #roh imagine #roh fan fiction

[noahfence1d]

This time nine years ago, five teenage boys' dreams were in tatters after being rejected from the X Factor .

But determined not to let a good-looking gang go to waste, show boss Simon Cowell and his genius decided to put solo hopefuls Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson together.

It took the lads just five minutes to agree to his plan and have another crack at the competition - this time in the groups category.

They would go on to be one of the most successful boybands of the century, selling out stadiums and dominating the charts for five years before splitting in an explosion of bitterness and animosity.

But with no experience of harmonies, group singing or even each other, even then Liam wondered what they were really getting into.

"We had seen each other at Bootcamp and got on well, and Niall and I had shared a room. But we were competition then, and at the back of the minds we knew were against each other," Liam would later recall.

"So it was strange when we were put together and my first thought was, 'How are we going to make this work when we don't know each other? It was such a leap of faith."

Desperate to catch up with the other bands, the newly-formed five-piece spent an intense two intense weeks practising in a bungalow at the bottom of Harry's step-dad's garden in Holmes Chapel, Cheshire.

But contrary to their bright white smiles and boyish banter, their very different personalities were already beginning to show, laying the foundations for the resentment, jealously and anger that would one day cause the group to implode.

"We used to be at each other’s throats on the X Factor," Louis admitted on their This Is Us DVD of his clashes with Liam.

"Whenever I wanted to do anything slightly mischievous, he was always the daddy."

"Me and Louis did not get on at all," Wolverhampton-born Liam agreed. "We were two completely different characters. There was one point where I literally wanted to whack him."

Nevertheless, they sailed through the live shows and came third in the final before scoring a record deal with Cowell, who for them made n exception of only signing the winning act.

A mysterious fall out

By the time they scored their first number one with What Makes You Beautiful in September 2011, Harry and Louis were living as housemates in a rented £3million North London flat in the same block where Ashley Cole and Cheryl once met.

Then suddenly at the start of 2012 they allegedly stopped talking and moved out.

“Apart from Harry and Louis, no one knows exactly what caused the falling out — they didn’t even tell the other boys the full details," a source told The Sun at the time.

“But it was very serious and their friendship has never recovered. Everyone involved in the band is well aware of the animosity between them.

“It’s been central to everything else that came next with the band because there was suddenly a massive divide.”

From that point on Harry apparently refused to even travel with Louis and the fall-out would become so serious that bosses reportedly had to find a way to make their last three albums without the boys having to spend any time together in the studio.

However, Niall dismissed the claims, telling fans not to believe the reports.

"We stand strong as a band and we’re brothers," he tweeted.

Those 'gay sex' rumours

One theory was that the 'Larry Stylinson' fan fiction depicting the pair as lovers had pushed them apart.

Louis, in particular, was extremely sensitive about the claims and admitted the speculation about their sexuality 'created an atmosphere'.

"People can believe what they want, but it comes across as a little bit disrespectful to the ones that I love, like (girlfriend) Eleanor (Calder)," he said.

"I'm so protective over things like that, about the people I love. So it created this atmosphere between the two of us."

Zayn told how Harry and Louis had even dialled back their physical friendship in an attempt to stop the rumours.

"It's not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won't naturally go put their arm around each other because they're conscious of this thing that's going on, which is not even true," he said.

While Harry likes to keep people guessing about his sexuality, refusing to put a label on it, Louis has categorically said he is heterosexual.

And he was raging when a cartoon featured in HBO show Euphoria depicted a sex scene between him and Harry last month.

"I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it," he raged on Twitter , with a source telling The Sun he was 'angered' that an 'awkward' situation had been made worse.

Drug scandal

Whatever the cause of the tension, the rift only grew wider when Zayn and Louis were filmed smoking what appeared to be cannabis in the back of an SUV en route to a concert in Peru in 2014.

Narrating from behind the camera as he filmed Zayn lighting what appeared to be a joint, Louis could be heard saying, "So here we are, leaving Peru. Joint lit. Happy days!"

Talking about Zayn taking his warm-up 'seriously', he continued, "One very very important factor of Zayn’s warm up of course if Mary J herself. In fact I will present it to him now for some fantastic singing."

Straight-laced Harry - who wasn't even much of a drinker - was apparently 'furious' they'd taken the shine off the start of their UK stadium tour with their 'stupid and reckless' behaviour.

"Harry is annoyed about the whole debacle. This should be one of the biggest weeks of the band's career... Instead it has been taken over by this controversy," an insider told The Sun.

"Despite Harry's reputation, he's incredibly professional and mature, and not into these sorts of antics," the source added.

Booze battles

It wasn't just Louis and Zayn who were in Harry's bad books.

Liam's partying was so out of control that Harry reportedly refused to go socialise with the band unless good guy Niall was there to keep the peace.

The pressure of spending two solid years on the road coupled with rumours about their future caused Liam to have a backstage meltdown in October 2015 with the band forced to cancel the gig in Belfast.

"The pressures of fame and being on the road for two years have made Liam ill," a source told The Sun of the star, who would go on to admit fame 'nearly killed me'.

“He was devastated about letting everyone down, especially the fans, but he wasn’t physically able to get on stage. He had a complete meltdown.”

On another occasion he turned up to a fan event so drunk that it finally gave him a wake-up call.

"I'm not afraid to say that I actually went through a pretty bad [drinking] stage," he told Attitude magazine.

"There were just a few times that I went over the limit with things and then I had to pull it back.

"I was very fortunate that I had lots of great people around me who said to me, 'Look Liam, you need to chill out a bit now.'"

Admitting he used alcohol to cope with the strain of performing near-constant touring, he said being drunk was like putting on a Disney costume before stepping out on stage.

"Underneath the Disney costume I was pissed quite a lot of the time because there was no other way to get your head around what was going on,” he told Men's Health.

“I mean, it was fun. We had an absolute blast, but there were certain parts of it where it just got a little bit toxic.”

The pact

The band was fraying at the seams. Zayn was constantly in the headlines, accused of cheating on then-fiancée Perrie Edwar - which he vehemently denied.

There were rumours that he wanted out of 1D - despite the deal they were said to have made to release five albums and a greatest hits record before going on a 'hiatus'.

But Zayn blindsided everyone by suddenly quitting in March 2015 after a concert in Hong Kong.

In a statement he later admitted had nothing to do with him, he claimed he wanted to be a 'normal 22- year old'.

"I wasn't going to spend another minute doing something which made me ill and which I no longer believed in," he said of his shock exit.

Harry was seen openly crying on stage during their performance the next night.

But behind the scenes, the lads were reportedly furious.

“The others knew Zayn would have a head start by leaving first, like Robbie Williams did when he quit Take That," said a pal.

“It was frustrating to them as Zayn only had to hang on in there a few months and 1D would have gone on their long break united.”

Zayn would later go so far as to claim he'd wanted to leave the band from the very beginning and that he hated their music.

Friends no more?

Meanwhile, absence has only made the feud grow stronger, particularly between Louis and Zayn after the latter failed to support him on the X Factor following his mum's death in December 2016.

"I had a couple of calls with him after I lost my mum and all the boys had agreed to come to that performance and he didn't show, so that really bugged me," he said on the Dan Wootton podcast.

"It was just seeing everyone there – Harry, Niall and Liam – that was what I needed that night, that support," he said. "So on the other end of the spectrum it kind of really showed. So, eh, I hope he's alright, but..."

Niall admits he doesn't even have Zayn's number and that he's constantly changing it, while Zayn sniped that he didn't 'really' speak to Harry when they were in the band so didn't expect to have a friendship after.

"I ain't spoke to any of them for a long time, to be honest with you. That's just the way it is," he told Vogue.

"There's things that happen and things that were said after I left...Snide things. Small things that I would never have expected."

So could they ever reunite?

While Louis says it's 'inevitable', Harry reportedly isn't on the same wavelength.

“Since stepping away from 1D Harry has really enjoyed life outside that pop bubble," a source said.

“And right now he has absolutely no desire to get 1D back together.”

#one direction

[lottieandlouise]

how to make it in the beauty industry by lou teasdale

From the death of the make-up artist and the rise of the beauty influencer, to cultural appropriation, contouring and boys who love make-up, Lou Teasdale offers some sage advice for all those looking to break into one of the biggest industries in the world.

A post shared by Lou Teasdale (@louteasdale) on Mar 22, 2017 at 3:05am PDT

Lou Teasedale is the make-up artist with the enviable task of keeping the 1D boys looking beautiful. Starting work in the industry 15 years ago, Lou has become one of glammest and most in demand make-up artists working today. She reflects on a changing industry and offers some tips to help guide you through it…

Everyone always asks me how to break into the make-up industry, what steps I took and what advice I can give. Well, how I did it is useless to all of you now because so much has changed. The old school beauty path vs. the new school beauty path isn't the same, but hopefully I can still help. I started my career 15 years ago, when YouTube was just for watching music videos, and the now editors of British Vogue were writing the first fashion blogs on Myspace. There were no beauty tutorials, and contouring was only taught as theatre make-up.

I went to London College of Fashion and studied Fashion Styling and Make-up before going on to work as an assistant. The beginning of most make-up artists' careers consist of over-priced courses, maybe some time as a counter girl for minimum wage, assisting on shoots that you'll get no money for and living in crappy flats in the city desperately hoping to get a break. But from working as an assistant, I managed to join the X Factor glam team, and from there got taken on by One Direction when they signed a record deal.

Fast-forward to 2017 and with Instagram, YouTube and vlogging it's a brand new industry! This generation of make-up artists are self-taught and self-employed, all from their bedrooms. They are more accurately described as "beauty influencers", and they are walking advertisements for both their skills and the products they are using. Selfie culture has introduced a multitude of faces that can move product. The digitalisation of the beauty industry demands that companies use influencers to create brand awareness and sell their products for them. Social media now dominates how we use and understand beauty and lifestyle. Not only that, beauty influencers have the ability to make serious money through sponsored ad posts. Much like when I started, and had to take assisting jobs for free, in the beginning of your beauty influencer career you need to tag loads of products and use tons of hashtags to get your content noticed. Once your profile begins to get traction, brands begin approaching you. Now, they have truly embraced the idea that girls trust their social media feeds more then they trust celebrity-endorsed adverts.

So the question is, in 2017, how do I become a beauty influencer? Here are some tips and tricks to be social media savvy. 

A post shared by Lou Teasdale (@louteasdale) on Mar 20, 2017 at 1:15pm PDT

Content, content, content... We used to have to go "testing". Shooting in our free time, for nothing. And then the only people who saw those shoots were the people we dragged our portfolios around IRL. Long. How hard is it to be constantly curating some easy beauty content for your followers to consume? Your Instagram, YouTube, vlogs, etc. need to be constantly spitting out vids and cool images. And that's easy compared with how we did it. The more, the better. If anyone tells you less is more, check their followers and I bet they have none. Contour your content and keep a consistent aesthetically pleasing theme on your social media pages. Even down to cleaning your tools, no one wants to see a filthy beauty blender on YouTube.

No trolling... Social media is your beauty community. I use it to meet other make-up artists or assistants on shoots and to keep in touch with everyone... but then it's easy to be super nice to real life people. These days you need to be sending love and emojis back and forth on each others tutorials. Be interactive, follow and support each other. 

A post shared by Lou Teasdale (@louteasdale) on Apr 7, 2017 at 8:38am PDT

Basic bitch problems... Social media has demanded that the industry check themselves before every photo shoot, catwalk or selfie. Ten years ago when images of white girls in cornrows or wearing bindis simply graced the pages of Vogue, the reader was silenced and we, the makers of the content, could produce whatever we wanted. By definition, cultural appropriation is the use of the elements of one culture by members of another culture. And the internet is reminding us stealing from other cultures is just not cool. Culture isn't a fashion statement or a beauty moment for us to use as we please. Make sure your content is not offending anyone please!

Brush up on boyfriend make-up...

Boys have been wearing make-up long before David Bowie transformed into Ziggy Stardust, or KISS ever took to the stage, but it seems recently make-up is finally on the way to becoming totally genderless to society. Images online of guys rocking a smokey eye or a bright pink lip better than you has made make-up on boys the new normal. This is not to be confused with the idea that boys wearing make-up is a hot new trend, it's just refreshing to see the internet and the beauty world breaking another barrier between the genders through exposure. Make-up as an art form should never be left just for girls or famous rockstars, and I truly believe it is because of social media that it is becoming more socially and culturally accepted to see make-up on boys. Finally. So don't be afraid to give your feed some gender-bending glam.

Your next IG selfie make-up how to… Prep and clean your face. Mix in a drop of liquid illuminator with your foundation for dat glo. Apply foundation evenly with a wet beauty blender -- wet it loads then ring it out, these are NOT meant to be used dry! With a darker foundation stick, sharply contour your cheekbones, temples, nose and chin with prominent lines. Blend. Contour those cheekbones one more time. With concealer and setting powder, pack that lighter, brighter colour under your eyes. Also, apply lighter colour under cheekbones and middle of the forehead and down the bridge of the nose. Blend. Liquid highlighter and powder highlighter on tops of cheekbones and tip of your nose. Bit more highlighter. Bit of bronzer. With a good pomade, shape and fill your brows. Now eyes (we've only just started you know). Take a warm, rich red / copper colour and apply all over the lid and buff into the crease. Sweep the red under your waterline as well. Take a true gold pigment and dab the pigment onto the centre of the eyelid, making it the focus point of your eye. Grab some falsies and glue them on for that dramatic lash game, Cheryl Cole's are actually surprisingly good. Finish off with mascara on both your falsies and lower lashes. Use a light-brown liner and liquid lipstick to finish the look.

A post shared by Lou Teasdale (@louteasdale) on Nov 24, 2016 at 8:59am PST

Your next Raya date make-up (no make-up make-up) how to… Prep and clean your face. Cover up any spots (don't panic and pop the big one that grew over night) with concealer. Hold tissue to your bleeding spot because you popped it. Take an elixir and mix it in with your foundation. Apply foundation evenly with a wet beauty blender. Conceal under eyes. Lightly contour your cheekbones with a darker powder or bronzer. Lightly apply highlighter to cheekbones and cupids bow. Fill in eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil. In the crease, blend in a nude taupe colour to define your eyes. Apply a couple layers of mascara. Carefully apply red lip liner, fill in with a matte liquid red lip.

Your next festival look where you won't culturally appropriate how to…. Prep and clean your face (make sure it's water in that bottle, not vodka). Apply a tinted SPF moisturiser all over your face. Lightly fill in brows with a pencil. Grab a red eyeshadow (or red lipstick) with lots of pigment and apply all over the lid and crease and under waterline. Apply an iridescent glitter highlighter generously all over your cheekbones. Apply a couple layers of mascara… red mascara is even better. Put your hair in space buns.

#lou #lou teasdale #lou press #310517 #may 17 #2017 #id #id magazine

[lynchgirl90]

@Variety COVER STORY: Inside the roller-coaster journey to get @DAVID_LYNCH's #TwinPeaks back on TV

A  red room. A dream version of Laura Palmer. An older Special Agent Dale Cooper, silent and pensive. The Man From Another Place, speaking cryptically: “That gum you like is going to come back in style.” It was early 1989, and Lynch was hard at work on “Twin Peaks.” He and co-creator Mark Frost were trying to meet the deadlines of ABC, the network that had commissioned a drama about love, pie and murder in a Pacific Northwest town. Lynch was under pressure to create scenes that would allow the pilot to be released as a TV movie in case it didn’t get picked up to series. But the filmmaker didn’t have any ideas for footage that could wrap up the story neatly enough to please a movie audience. Then he walked outside during an early-evening break from editing and folded his arms on the roof of a car. “The roof was so warm, but not too warm,” Lynch says. “It was just a really good feeling — and into my head came the red room in Cooper’s dream. That opened up a portal in the world of ‘Twin Peaks.’” That vision ended up in the third episode — but more importantly, it would lay the groundwork for the highly anticipated revival of the series, which returns May 21 on Showtime. It’s an older Cooper that anchors the series. While countless reboots of numerous series have crashed and burned, it’s safe to say few have been as intensely followed by fans as this one. As Showtime CEO David Nevins put it, “‘Twin Peaks’ as a place is a proper noun, but it’s almost become an adjective.” Since the show’s debut in April 1990, many dramas have tried to create the kind of evocative, twisted atmosphere “Twin Peaks” exuded from the first twanging notes of Angelo Badalamenti’s yearning score. And though intense dramas about murders that reverberate through tight-knit communities are now easy to find on TV, no show has come close to achieving the mix of humor, soapy drama, sincerity and corrupted purity found within the strange confines of “Twin Peaks.”

That’s because much of what’s distinctive about the drama emerges from the most unpredictable corners of Lynch’s mind — like that red room epiphany. “It comes in a burst,” Lynch explains. “An idea comes in, and if you stop and think about it, it has sound, it has image, it has a mood, and it even has an indication of wardrobe, and knowing a character, or the way they speak, the words they say. A whole bunch of things can come in an instant.” Frost describes a case in point: “I remember him calling me to say, ‘Mark, there’s a giant in Cooper’s room,’” he says. “I learned early on that it was always best to be very receptive to whatever might bubble up from David’s subconscious.” The first iteration of “Twin Peaks” lasted only two seasons — 30 episodes in all — but the show left a legacy that would help define auteur TV. “I don’t think anyone who ever saw ‘Twin Peaks’ will ever have it not ingrained in their memory and imagination for the rest of their lives,” says Laura Dern, a frequent Lynch collaborator who plays a mysterious role in the new season. Yet getting the series back on-screen was no easy feat. At one point, the revival almost fell apart before production began. It would take delicate negotiations by all parties to rescue the project. “I was an actual, genuine lover of ‘Twin Peaks’ and the world that [Lynch] created, and I knew his filmography really well,” Nevins notes. “[We said] we would take the ride with him, and that we would treat it well and treat it with the respect that it deserved. I think we did. We bobbed and weaved with him; we were patient when we had to be patient.”

Lynch and Frost began talking about returning to “Twin Peaks” in August 2012, in part because the show’s baked-in time jump was approaching — in that pivotal red room scene, Agent Cooper is 25 years older. The two men shared ideas over meals at Musso & Frank, and after the writing process had begun in earnest, they started to shop the revival around. They settled on Showtime fairly quickly, given their history with the executives. Gary S. Levine, Showtime’s president of programming, has known Frost and Lynch since his days at ABC. Almost three decades ago, he was one of the execs who heard their pitch for the TV show they initially called “Northwest Passage.” (Levine still has the memo that notes the date of the first concept meeting for the pilot — Aug. 25, 1988.) But as with everything Lynch, the agreement for the redux came down to instinct: A final piece of the puzzle, say the execs, was a painting in Nevins’ office of a little girl next to a bookcase that looks like it may fall on her. “I was making the pitch about why he should come here and why we would treat his property right, and he mostly stood there and stared at the painting,” Nevins recalls. (For his part, Lynch says the painting wasn’t the deciding factor, but he smiles at the memory of seeing it.) The deal closed in the fall of 2014, with an order of nine episodes; the following January, Lynch hand-delivered a 400-page document. “It was like the Manhattan phone book,” Frost says. Their plan was to shoot the entire thing — with Lynch at the helm of every episode —and then edit the resulting footage into individual episodes. It’s hard to imagine wrestling that 400-page behemoth into a briefcase, let alone giving notes on it. When talks broke down, however, the conflict wasn’t about the script but rather the project’s budget. In April 2015, the director went public with his growing displeasure, tweeting that “after 1 year and 4 months of negotiations, I left because not enough money was offered to do the script the way I felt it needed to be done.”

Lynch’s threatened departure generated a flurry of commentary, most of which said that a version of the TV show without him would be worse than no “Twin Peaks” at all. “I didn’t want ‘Twin Peaks’ without Lynch either,” Nevins says drily. The Showtime chief says he was out of the country when negotiations hit that difficult patch. Lynch wanted the flexibility to expand the length of the season, but he didn’t know exactly how many episodes he’d end up with. He hoped it would be possible to go longer than the 9 or 13 installments that had been discussed, but he ran into resistance from the network’s business affairs department. “It didn’t fit into the box of how people are used to negotiating these kinds of deals,” Nevins says. “Once I understood what the issues were from the point of view of the filmmaker, I was like, ‘OK, we can figure that out.’ And we did — it turned out not to be very complicated to [resolve].” Nevins and Levine went over to the director’s house. “Gary brought cookies,” Lynch recalls. And over baked goods and coffee, the three men hashed everything out. Lynch, says Nevins, has a history of being responsible. “He said, ‘Give me the money; I will figure out how to apportion it properly.’ And he did,” Nevins says. (Levine says the cost of “Twin Peaks” is comparable to that of Showtime’s other high-end dramas.) Asked for his side of the story, Lynch asks, “What did Showtime say?” Told their version, he signs off: “Basically, that’s it.” He says his relationship with the network ever since the cookie summit has been “solid gold.” (Treats never hurt: When he delivered cuts of the new season, he sent along doughnuts.)

The mystery of the first season of “Twin Peaks” was, famously, “Who killed Laura Palmer?” The mystery of the reboot is, well — nearly everything. None of the 18 episodes will be released in advance to critics, and very few details have leaked out. Though cast members such as Kyle MacLachlan (Agent Cooper), Madchen Amick (Shelly Johnson), Sherilyn Fenn (Audrey Horne) and Ray Wise (Leland Palmer) are returning, others, including Joan Chen, Michael Ontkean and Lara Flynn Boyle, won’t be back. No one will say what characters are being played by new recruits Dern, Ashley Judd, Tim Roth, Naomi Watts and Robert Forster — there’s a roster of more than 200 characters in the new season. Frost’s father, Warren; Catherine Coulson, the Log Lady; and Miguel Ferrer, who played the irascible Albert Rosenfield, all filmed scenes before they died. Nevins lets it slip that Lynch’s character, the hearing-impaired FBI Regional Bureau Chief Gordon Cole, is “pretty prominent” in the new season. “I probably said too much,” he adds. MacLachlan says that Lynch enjoys the world of “Twin Peaks” so much that he couldn’t resist putting himself back in it. But he admits that, for his part, he finds it hard to stay in character when he’s doing scenes with his director. “Unless we’re really both firmly rooted in what we’re doing, we tend to start laughing and messing up,” the actor says. Stopping for a moment, the actor reconsiders: “David, when he works, he’s very committed to Gordon. So when I’m in there with him, he’s able to really hold it. He holds it better than I do, to be honest.” For those expecting a similar structure to the original, which revolved around Laura’s death, Frost issues a warning: “It’s going to be very different this time around.” The scope of the reboot is greater, says Nevins, adding that the new installments of the drama reflect Lynch’s advancement as an artist.

“I think he’s evolved to an even more extreme version of himself, but all of the [Lynch] themes are visible,” Nevins says. “He has certain ideas about the ideal of America. Not to relate it too much to the present, but he has certain ideas about Midwestern American wholesomeness. But I think he’s also incredibly aware of the flip side of it. I think David Lynch is a really relevant voice: What does it mean when we say, ‘Make America great again?’” Given the wider scope, it’s not surprising to hear that, though “Twin Peaks” returned to Snoqualmie, Wash., for some filming, certain storylines in the new season take place outside the Pacific Northwest, and the bulk of the new season was shot in Southern California. “There are different threads in different parts of the U.S.” that eventually converge, Nevins says. “It does not go outside the U.S., but it is in multiple locations in the U.S.” One last clue from Lynch: The film “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me,” he says, is very important to understanding what’s coming May 21.

Even if “Twin Peaks” travels outside its forested Pacific Northwest setting, it’s safe to assume there’s still cherry pie on the menu at the Double R Diner. Lynch and Frost’s collaborative process is also still intact; 25 years later, the two men picked up where they left off. Lynch lives in Los Angeles and Frost resides more than an hour away, so the two men often worked together via Skype. Frost typically writes down what they come up with, and then the two trade notes and talk further to refine the story. “Getting it the way you want it to be, that’s a beautiful high and it’s a high for everybody,” says Lynch of directing. “It’s difficult to go home and go right to sleep. And it’s murder to get up in the morning.” Lynch directed every episode of the drama, which wrapped production a year ago. In a perfect world, he says he would have helmed every installment of the original series. “Not that other directors didn’t do a fine job,” he says. “But when it’s passing through different people, it’s just natural that they would end up with [something] different than what I would do.” The freedom of airing on a premium channel didn’t change his approach, Lynch says. There’s not much in the way of nudity or extreme violence in the finished product. “You don’t think, ‘Oh, I can do this now,’” he says. “The story tells you what’s going to happen.” In fact, despite the show’s reputation for being unsettling, most of what’s dark and dangerous about “Twin Peaks” comes from its mood and soundscape, not necessarily from what’s depicted on-screen. Decades ago, ABC executives were excited about Lynch and Frost’s pitch in part because it was, in many ways, relatively conventional. It fit easily into a number of existing TV categories: the classic nighttime soap, the murder mystery, the high school drama and the small-town saga.

“There certainly weren’t Standards & Practices issues at the time,” Levine says. “[Lynch’s] imagination took you to new places, not to prurient places. That was a good thing in broadcast TV.” But the otherworldly elements that Lynch layered in — an indefinable air of mystery, a surreal quality that evoked swooning, bittersweet loss — were among the factors that made the original “Twin Peaks” a ratings and pop-culture sensation. And despite that the second season was more uneven than the first, the show often effectively blended slapstick humor with dream logic, bittersweet romance, heightened melodrama and hints of violence and degradation. “He’s got both really good craft and storytelling skills, and he also creates his own reality without it violating the reality you’re in,” Levine says. “I think that was one of the great things about the original — it was a really compelling plot, but it also was this acid trip. Somehow those two things coexist beautifully in David Lynch’s world.” Lynch doesn’t question where inspirations like the red room scene come from; he simply wants to capture them with his cameras. And lest anyone think he’s overly precious about his process, Lynch doesn’t consider himself the creator of these visions. “It's like that idea existed before you caught it, so in some strange way, we human beings, we don't really do anything,” he says. “The ideas come along and you just translate them.” What might Lynch’s response be if an actor said, about a line, "That doesn't feel right to me”? “I don't know if I've ever said that to him, actually,” says MacLachlan, stumped by the question. “I mean, I would never change it. It is there for a reason.” In fact, to hear him tell it, the fact that Cooper is an iconic TV character is in many ways a tribute to the writing for the character, especially in Cooper’s debut scene. “I brought my stuff, yeah,” MacLachlan says. “But that’s one of the greatest introductions into a story of any that I've ever had — driving up the mountain, talking into a tape recorder about some of the mundane things in life, just kind of cataloguing it. Immediately, you wonder, ‘Who is this guy and what is he about?’” “When I first started with David in ‘Dune,’ I was full of questions. I would bother him non-stop,” MacLachlan says. “He always had a great deal of patience with me. On ‘Blue Velvet,’ I still [had questions], but less, and then with ‘Twin Peaks,’ even less. I've stopped having to know everything. I’ve just said, ‘OK, I see where we're going.’” “For Kyle and I, we've spoken about this incredible gift that we know what [Lynch] means” when he discusses his vision for a scene or a project, Dern says. “We have gone on this journey with him, so we know his language, or what he's inventing. We don't necessarily need to understand it or need it to be logical, but we see where his brain is taking him and we can follow.”

Dern and MacLachlan both say they relish the opportunity to work with Lynch because his vision is so specific that it gives them a detailed road map to follow — and it makes the set an efficient place. “There’s no wasted time or wasted emotions, tangents, whatever,” MacLachlan notes. “He’s very precise when we talk through the scene, and he tells me what’s going to happen. He has already thought it through, and he sees it.” Dern marvels at the rigor and enigma of Lynch’s process. “David creates these worlds, sometimes all too real and sometimes incredibly absurd, but either way, he places humanity inside them, and his dialogue is so precise, mysterious, unusual and beautiful that you want to dive into that dialogue and hopefully make it soar,” she says. Given Lynch’s penchant for secrecy, just about all Dern can say about her character is that she talks about birds, at least once. “Kyle and I had several scenes, particularly in the car, when we're talking about the robins,” Dern says. “There’s this very beautiful, hopeful poetry amidst this hellish world they've entered.” Rewatching “Twin Peaks” recently, MacLachlan was struck by how the editing of the show helps it create a series of moods, from comedic to tautly suspenseful, from romantic to terrifying. “His timing, his rhythms,” MacLachlansays. “That's what I find so interesting about David Lynch — the way he stretches things or condenses things, or manipulates time to make something either seem more humorous or less.”

 Now all that remains to be seen is how the public responds to the new adventures of Agent Cooper, that avatar of square-jawed all-American perseverance. “I believe in intuition,” Lynch says. “I believe in optimism, and energy, and a kind of a Boy Scout attitude, and Cooper’s got all those things.” The most important parallel between Lynch and Cooper is that their belief in their own intuition is matched by a purposeful, almost single-minded intent. What allows Lynch to put deeply felt images from his subconscious on the screen is a tenacious focus — one that’s cloaked in the kind of smiling, friendly optimism that Cooper typically exudes. “His vision is genuine,” Dern says. “He’s not interested in creating something so others will be impacted by it. He just sees a world and has to follow it.” Despite the passionate responses his works have created, Lynch doesn’t necessarily set out to delve into the hearts and minds of his viewers. He’s just an interpreter of something primal — a messenger for the visions that find him. “I guess, like Mel Brooks said, ‘If you don’t laugh while you’re writing the thing, the audience isn’t going to laugh,’” Lynch explains. “If you don’t cry or feel it while you’re doing it, it’s probably not going to translate.” Almost 30 years ago, TV viewers followed Lynch through that portal to the red room. Despite the crowded TV landscape “Twin Peaks” helped create, Nevins thinks audiences will take the journey again. “I think he does have enormous self-confidence as an artist — that what resonates with him won’t resonate with everybody but will resonate with enough people that it’s going to make noise in the world,” Nevins says. And if there is silence, that’s fine too. “If nothing happens, it’s still OK,” Lynch says with a smile. “This whole trip has been enjoyable.” 

Link (TP)

#Twin Peaks #Kyle MacLachlan #David Lynch #Laura Dern #Variety #Showtime