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rip-a-dip-dip-you-potato-chip · 3 years

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what have I created?

idk if yall like this, but they just exist not i guess :/

ok the the first one is Royalty AU

first things first, when I say Royalty AU, I don't mean the classic shit we've all become accustomed to. Im talking about the good old Chinese royalty! And I want to emphasize that these guys will/should be dressed in century appropriate attire. As someone thats read a handful of 'marinette, princess of china' fics from the ML Fandom, I've noticed a common trend. Marinette wouldn't be in the culturally appropriate clothes, always ballgowns. Not that there's something wrong with it, its just most of if not all these fic are set in China, so I'd expect Chinese royalty to dress as THERE dress code calls for. And since this AU takes place far in the past like, it won't make sense for any of the characters to be in royal clothing that wasn't from there region. I'm not trying to white knight/gatekeeping. Im Guyanese not Chinese. But since JTTW and Monkie Kid take place in China, it's only right. In my opinion that it. You don't have to outright agree with me.

With out of the way, it's time for that good old AU crack

- Wukong is the king of the Flower Fruit kingdom(or a different one if you'd like, again I'm only familiar with what western culture has taught me, but I'll try my hardest)

- he’s single but rumor has it he used to/still is dating the Vigilante/thief The Six Eared Macaque

- *chants ShadowPeach violently*

- no one know whether it true or not

- On of his wanders around the kingdom he finds an abandoned baby in a basket.

- and no shit sherlock it's fucking baby Xiaotian

- I think we all know where this is going because i'm a simp for Monkey Dad & Monkie Son shenanigans

- Xiaotian becomes prince

Shit, ill be referring to Xiaotian as Mk from now on, I mentioned this before in a fic I wrote for lmk that Mk's a nickname for Xiaotian for some reason- wait i don't have to explain my self to you people!

- Sun loves his son

- MK is treated differently by staff and others because he's not blood related to the king

- no one mistreats MK per say, because there King loved his adopted son, but words are said behind his back

- Sometimes MK hears what’s said, and he feels as if he won't live up to his dad’s legacy.

- He meets Mei during a festival

- Mei is from a noble family, that wouldn't mind if they got a connection into the royal family.

- but it becomes hella clear to Mei’s family very fast that the two are just friends, and will always will be. but hey there daughter is bffs with the prince so that's a plus.

- the Demon Bull Family is rules a kingdom as well, I dont/am not creative enough to think of a name I leave that to you.

- It's a common misconception that DBK is a tyrant, when he’s not.

- most of the time...

- they have been at war with the Monkey King for some time now and settled for a peace agreement.

- that agreement being there sons to marry

- oooo original i know

- MK and Red Son are roughly the same age, Mk being 20 and RS 22

- RS is revolted/disgusted at the idea of being wed to the Monkey Kings child, even more so when he realizes MK is adopted,

- but, that all changes the second he meets MK while he meets him by accident when he gets kinda lost in the palace when he and his parents go to discuss the arrangements.

- the second he looks at MK, he's instantly in love. MK less so, he's nervous and honestly kinda bummed he's not marrying someone he loves but it's for the good of his ppl, and he'll do anything for them.

- RS isn't even aware that MK is Suns adopted son until MK walks him back to the meeting room.

"Oh There you are MK! I was about to have a servant go fetch you!" Sun Wukong says, gesturing for his boy to come sit with him.

"S-sorry for keeping you waiting I got caught up in my lessons with Mr. Tang" MK responds, sitting next to his father. Red Son looked gobsmacked. The beautiful young man he had bumped into, was the prince of this land? Damn, life truly blessed him. Or cursed him depending on how you looked at it.

- the two are left alone in a separate room for a while.

- And MK straight up tells RS why he's agreeing to this union.

"Look Red Son. I've dreamed about meeting my one true love for a while. And I would give almost anything for that dram to be real. But I wouldn't ever dare give up my people, for as there price they mean more to me. I'm doing this for them, no other reason" MK says, his back straight and hands folded neatly in his lap. The look in his eyes was a mix of sadness, but that was drowned out by loyalty and determination. It just made Red Son fall for him even harder. Clearing his throat Red spoke.

"I understand, for im doing this for the betterment of my people to. But I propose a wager"

"A wager?"

"Yes, if i can make you fall in love with me by years end, before our marriage, we can live together like in the fairy tales from far away. But if I fail, in a years time afterwards you will be permitted to find your own path in life" Red Son stated. MK took a moment to process what was happening.

"So, if you succeed in making me fall in love with you, before our marriage we can live happily ever after?" Red Son nodded in response, letting the younger continue.

"And if I shouldn't fall for you, in a years time after our union, im free to leave?" Red Son nodded once more.

"So, what do you say?"

...

"Deal"

In the end, your free to choose their fate, should Red Son win the hart of Mk? Will he fail? Or will he let him go, and let him travel the country, after all Mk's a free spirit and keeping him trapped in a big house is like keeping a cannery trapped in a cage only for its song, only for it to dul. Or will the unthinkable happen and will both boys find their freedom? together or appart? I don't know, because that's all up to you 😉

personally, I’m partial to where MK and Red Son both find freedom together. Like they straight up run away together to somewhere far away and just live out there lives together.

this could also be genderbent thing as well. MK or Red as their respective counterparts. Again it doesn't have to be, but it’s whatever bro. im just spitting out the idea.

Also, there is a main side plot that they fight the WBS throughout the year as well, along with other shenanigans you wanna throw in.

____

The second is a My Hero Academia/BNH/MHA AU

truth be told i'm not a big fan of MHA i think it to over hyped(this is also coming from the same person that’s a Fairy Tail fan lol), and the fandom i don't even know how to describe that mess, but I will admit not the whole of its toxic since every fandom has some toxic members, some even more so.

I just sometimes find myself enjoying MHA AUs like the Fullmetal Alchemist, Danny Phantom, Evil!Deuk AU and several others.

to make it clear I don't see this AU taking place the same time as the main plot of the actual Anime/Manga. This could be either like 6-10 years before or after the plot idk bro. But i’ll do this after the main story plot of MHA, so keep that in mind ya? another thing, the gang is still in China, the top hero school in the world just so happens to be in Japan, and it’s only ever mentioned by Sun wukong and other pro heros. So MK never attended AU. in short it’s only ever mention/ reference.

- Mk was considered Quirkless as a kid.

- he was just a late blumer, i swear

- Mai’s Quirk is called Dragon.

- it pretty much works the same way as it does in the show(duh)

- Tang’s got a knowledge Quirk,

- my man can retain information and he’s basically an archive of information drawback being his personality lol

- Piggsy is a Animal that gained a Quirk

- in cannon to my current knowledge, there are two other characters that can confirm animals can become sentient. the characters being Fumikage Tokoyami, & Nezu the principal at the school UA.

- Sandy is just Conner Kent, aka he like superman but can't fly, or shoot lasers from his eyes. And blue.

I have two scenarios for Macaque and Wukong

*- The first one is that, Sun Wukong & Macaque are brothers. twins to be exact.

- they where legit people, but have mutation quirks that made them too like monkeys.

- the added powers were just a boues.

- Sun and Mac are close growing up, like there brothers but also best friends.

- the draw back to there quirks could honestly be whatever you want bro idk, same with the others tbh. Personally I like to think Sun just has lack of motivation, and Macaque needs to draw on other people's energy.

- Sun is a hero, Monkey KIng and Mac is a villain Six Eared.

- Sun was always treated has the golden child in the family, Mac always resented that, but there shitty up bring didn’t stop the two from being good brothers to one another.

- soon tho the resentment became hatred when Sun was able to attend UA in Japan, while Mac didn't.

- Mac be angy

- so he became a villain, and joined the Chinese branch of the LOV(league of villains)

- Sun doesn't know this till he finds out during the all out war during the main story. and by that time he’s a full on hero with is own agency(The Flower Fruit agency)

- when the hero's ultimately win and Mac is arrested

- This ultimately hurts Sun a lot, his brother was in jail now, arrested for his involvement and wrong doings, he knew nothing about this! this brother, his blood. A bad guy? why? he hadn't seen his brother since he left for UA, he hadn’t seen him when he came home, and started his agency.

- this just puts Sun into a funk so he’s not as active as he used to be, and he starts thinking he might need a successor

*- The second one is that they were two separate people that had similar quirks and both attended UA but Sun ended up in the hero corse. so 1A.

- Both Macaque and Sun have similar quirks, Sun’s is obviously more light based while Macaque’s is more shadow based(this applies to the first one as well)

- Macaque was placed in class 1B, U.A.’s High's Heroics Department, I believe, you can correct me.

- In cannon Class 1A and 1B both went to the training camp. I can see the teachers pinning Sun and Macaque against each other to hone their skills.

- And because of that they become great friends

- In fact when they graduate they both co-found there hero agency together in China and are a duo.

- But due to Monkey King’s popularity and Six Eared's association with shadows(people sometimes saying he has more of a villains quirk than a heros) the public see’s Macaque as Sun’s sidekick when thats far from the truth.

- now it’s up to you whether you think that Wukong and Macaque would be in a relationship together, but knowing how cooked we all are, ShadowPeach is a thing here more than likely.

- If you do or don’t support/ like the ShadowPeach aspect, the two would be living together regardless since its more cost efficient.

- They my be heroes but living costs are expensive!

- I would imagine there would have been a huge fight/argument between the two in privet of course, at there home.(or in there shared office if you want the extra angst of the other people they work with hearing them fight)

- If the two are dating, then this would either lead to an out right breakup, or Macaque just up and leaving with Wukong thinking he’ll come back once he’s cooled off. But after a week, with no sign of his partner, or him answering texts or calls, not even coming into work. Wukong gets worried that something might have happened to him. so there wouldn't be a confirmation if they were still a thing or not.

- But Wukong remains hopeful, despite the nagging at the back of his head, and gut telling him to go find Macaque, or atleast make a public statement, or even just tell another pro hero about it.

- on the not so shippy side, Macaque and Wukong still have there argument, and much like the ShadowPeach esc side, Macaque up and leaves, and isn't seen for weeks. the only difference here is that when Wukong comes home one night to there flat, most if not all of Macaques stuff is gone.

- where as if this was the ShadowPeach side, Macaque leaves all of his possession in the flat he and wukong share. for the simple reason being, he still loves him and wants to go back, but Macaque being Macaque can’t bring himself to do it, especially after seeing just how hurt Wukong looked when he yelled at him just before he left.

- in other words, ANGST DIALED UP TO A 10 BABY

- in either case, its a news report that confirms Wukong's suspicions that he desperately didn’t want to believe, and that is Macaque turning into a villain.

- much like if the two were brothers, Wukong just can’t take it and is no longer as active as he once was, and is thinking about, either A) Retirement B) Saying, “Fuck Society, Be Gay Do Crime” and join Macaque as a villain himself, or C) find a successor, and a way to bring Macaque back to there side, but most importantly, back to him.

- also extra points if you're after people's hearts and want to make them suffer; - If there dating, Wukong curle’s up in the bed he and Macaque shared, holding/wearing something of great value to Macaque and just crying himself to sleep, where as Macaque is getting wasted on alcohol, as he stumbles out of the bar he’s in, he either see’s something that reminds him of Wukong or while he’s trying to put his wallet back into his pocket, a photo of them on their first date fall’s out. and Macaque just cries in a nearby alley way. And it’s there where he gets indoctrinated into the League.

- If there just friends, macaque heads to the nearest forest and just levels it, where as Wukong just gets engrossed into his work, trying not to think about it. you could add you own spin on this, again i'm just spitballing.

- NOW BACK TO MK! :D

- Obviously MK is a huge Monkey King fan

- at Twenty MK has come to terms he's quirkless (HE’S NOT)

-for ANGST reasons MKs fokes kicked him out at this realization at 13.

- he works at Piggsy's Noodle shop, and has been since he was 14.

- don't need a quirk to drive or cook!

- the boy lives a content life with his new family, till DBK happens :D

- DBK runs a Mafia(in conjunction with TLOV) and has been in jail for like 5 years thanks to Monkey King, PIF and RS brake him out one night when MK's out making a late night delivery since Piggsy had the bright idea to go 24/7 service!

- one thing leads to another and Mk somehow manifest what looks like the Monkey King's staff, but its not, it’s MKs powers, it just so happens to be the same power the Monkey King has. And it practically goes down the same way in the pilot.

- but unlike the pilot Mk and Mei go straight to the FF Agency, after making a panicked call to Pigsy and Tang.

- one way or another Mk are lead into Wukongs office. Mei being forced to stay in the lobby.

- they have there convo, butterfly monkey squishing included.

- "And so, I want you do be my success-" BOOM 💥

- from there they rush downstairs and see that the lobby has been infiltrated by the DB fam, and you know fight.

- once the DB family seems like there down, PIF wisks them away. Much to Monkey King’s displeasure.

From there stuff kind plays out like cannon, the calabash ep is just a conjoint quirk the Demon bros have. As for EP9, ill have to script that one out myself lol. I'll get onto it as soon as my will to commit stabs me in the face. Till then have a dancing Kermit the frog.

Now if you'll excuse me, am about to Kermit a felony :D

(For legal reasons thats a joke)

Psst @writingamongther0ses its done

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #rip a dip dip wrights

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so-i-dont-forget-again · 3 years

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So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 170: Rito Village

Even though I can’t fly and most of their techniques involves the intricacies of flying and shooting at the same time I’ve still learned a lot. Teba said we were going to take a break today; he had noticed my arm started acting up yesterday and thought I needed a break. Yesterday he thought I just might not have stretched enough before training but seeing me this morning he thought I might have pulled something and suggested I ask Saki to take a look at it.

I guess I’ll have to visit the Domain soon. I’m not even near finished with the medicine I have now. Feels like a waste to have not finished this stuff before getting new medicine, but I was given an excess amount since they didn’t know how long I was going to be gone for.

Bossa Nova kept nudging my arm and side, I think he’s noticed too. That or he just wants scratches and pets. After getting here he practically had been getting them nonstop from just about everyone. With no one petting him I guess he now wanted me to pet him, and he nudged me less after I pet him. There’s also plenty of foliage here. I think Bossa Nova is getting spoiled here. I hope he’ll be okay with leaving when I’m done here.

I found Amali calling out for Kheel. She had gone missing and Amali was searching around the whole village. Though things are much safer, the Yiga have been around attacking people.

Teba and I had been using them in training as targets. I understand it’s to protect everyone in the village, but… I feel nauseous seeing the bodies pile up.

I offered to search outside the village for Kheel.

She was at Warbler’s Nest. She wants to finally have singing practice with her sisters but they refuse to go and she refuses to leave till they join her. I told her that if she had to practice here I or some other warrior should be there. It seems she doesn’t know about the Yiga. I thought about explaining the situation to her but I shouldn’t scare her, what if she becomes too scared to leave the village even when it is safe. I tried telling her there were other dangerous creatures around like wolves, but she still refused. She didn’t need to practice here every day, but it had been so long she at least wanted to sing here just once. I told her that I wanted to hear their singing and didn’t want to miss a thing, so I asked her if she’d please come with me to find her sisters so I could hear their recital practice.

First Kheel and I checked back home and found Genli at the cooking pot, she wanted to do some cooking and had sent some of the others to help her collect some missing ingredients while she prepared. She did tell us where she thought some of the others would be at like the store and such.

When we were searching Amali spotted us and was relieved to see us back safely. She told Kheel it was still too dangerous to be out. I explained I’d be there to look after them, but Amali wasn’t happy. Apparently Teba had told her we were taking a break and told me I was to be resting, not fighting still. I explained the situation with my arm but that only got her to say that was even more reason to rest. She then sighed, saying I am an adult who could make choices for himself but she highly recommended that I return to the zora before my infections get worse and become more permanent, maybe even stay with them till I’m fully healed since all the Divine Beasts had been appeased now.

Even if I’m still fighting, for me, just staying here is a rest. Amali paused for a moment then so softly told me that whenever I needed a break I could always come back here. She then told me to go back to playing with my sisters as Kheel seemed to be getting impatient. She then got flustered noticing what she had said and apologized. In a lot of ways I am rather similar to Kass and with how I’m always with her daughters, playing with them and such whenever I returned from training with Teba I was like a big brother to them. Kass had spoken much of me before Amali and I had actually met, and the tales were so accurate, she felt like she had known me for much longer than we actually had, so in a way I felt somewhat like her own child as odd as it may sound. Especially with how Kass spoke of me in a similar way he had of their daughters.

When Amali and I were hugging Kheel joined in, confused but didn’t want to be left out. I promised her I’d be more careful and that I’d go see the zora doctors soon and return better than ever. Amali said that when I come back, I should bring my boyfriend so she and everyone else could meet him, though with Kass’ many tales of Sidon he sounded like a great person. I think Sidon would like that and I told her I’d see what I could do.

Cree was buying goat butter. Notts was supposed to be helping but seems she wasw slacking off and Knotts was out fishing. I had to do a bit of climbing to reach her, but we found her on her stone perch and she joined us in our search. Knotts was very close to the village, on one of the pillars which were connected by bridges, there’s a little lake on one of them and there we did some spear fishing to get a hearty salmon. They said I fish funny; I didn’t think spear fishing could differ so much from zoras and rito but I suppose like fighting it can surprisingly be very different.

We all returned to the kitchen to cook with Genli. We made Salmon Meuniere, and it’s delicious! They wanted to make seconds but I convinced them not too so we wouldn’t spoil our appetite for dinner.

On they way to Warbler’s Nest they rode on Bossa Nova’s back, constantly giving him pets which I think he was very pleased with.

After some practice they asked me if I sang too. As far as I could remember I didn’t think I ever tried. They… didn’t seem too pleased with the result. I’m now their pet project of sorts. They want to teach me so I can become a great singer and serenade “The fish prince”. It’s common practice to sing to win someone’s heart and they wanted to help me with my relationship with Sidon. They said cooking was good but since I travel so much, I need to do more like their dad who sings a lot for their mom and them. They then got the bright idea of getting Kass to teach me, since we both have deeper voices than them and maybe someone with a slightly more similar range to me could help more. They pushed and pulled me all the way back to the village and demanded that Kass teach me. This whole affair was kind of embarrassing, but… the thought of singing for Sidon is nice.

After practice I assisted Amali in the kitchen again. Many of the Rito dishes involve a meat of some kind and I think many of them would be good for traveling, maybe not the fish meat pie, but many of the other ones seem like they could work like the Salmon Meuniere.

Kass and I did some chatting after dinner. He asked me it this is what it’s always like when in stay in a place after appeasing the Divine Beast, all the training I had been doing. I told him it differs from place to place, but this time… all I have left is finding the Master Sword and Defeating the Calamity and I want to make sure I’m ready. I told him staying in places is more like today, learning something, entertaining children, just… living here, and training to be a warrior is a big part of living here, though I had been training to excess lately and I told him I’d probably be letting up on it. Kass told me it was a good idea, I did so much fighting already and even if the art was my one true love, too much of anything was never good.

We just chatted, I’ve just chatted with others before, but this just felt especially nice. I wonder if it’s just Kass being Kass or what Amali had told me before, but I just really liked this. Maybe it was the soft playing of his accordion when we hadn’t talked for a while, just watching the sunset.

I asked Kass what he was going to do if I defeated the Calamity. Kass told me he’d still be searching for ancient songs. Even if I completed my task, that didn’t mean his job was done, and being a bard is his life, he’s not just doing it because of a dead man’s wish, like me and my journey.

Kass paused for a moment telling me he still didn’t have a song for Revali but he did have a song for someone else, the hero from a hundred years ago. Kass told me that though I can’t remember much his master was there when the Calamity had struck and met the old, dead me. Kass told me of how his teacher had loved Zelda but she had clearly fallen for someone else, the dead hero, and that likely colored this song, but even with jealousy he believed the hero would return and poured that belief into a song. It was still something that could possibly shed some light on my fogged memories even if heavily warped by another impression of that man.

“An ancient hero, a Calamity appears, Now resurrected after ten thousand years. Her appointed knight gives his life, shields her figure, and pays the price. The princess’ love for her fallen knight awakens her power/And within the castle the Calamity is forced to cower. But the knight survives! In the Shrine of resurrection he sleeps, until from his healing dream he leaps! For fierce and deadly trials await. To regain his strength. Fulfill his fate. To become a hero once again! To wrest the princess from evil’s den. The hero, the princess-hand in hand-Must bring the light back to this land.”

Kass asked me if the song had helped any. I… feel something tugging at the back of my mind, but I can’t seem to quite reach it. I know there was something bright, but… nothing else. But the song, I died protecting Zelda? Kass told me his teacher had witnessed it. And it was as Kass had explained before, his Teacher wanted to help and seek out the ancient songs of the hero long past to help me, and after he died Kass took on his wish. Kass said that it was too bad the hero would never return. After all he died saving the princess. He knows, he learned of my past when I had my panic attack, when he had me read through my journal with him. He knows, but… it’s like back in the Zora’s Domain now. He did however tell me that should I meet the princess I should give her my condolences for being a different person, her knight gone, and if she lives, to try to let her down easy about Sidon and I. I asked him if it was a shock to find out when I was panicking. He told me he had a suspicion ever since we solved that deer puzzle together, so he wasn’t surprised. He then started giving advice. Talking about grieving, how he had tried to deal with his feelings about his teacher passing, someone like family to him. About working with your worries, being so scared about the people you care about when traveling. About getting stuck in your head when you have no one else to talk too, one piece of advice that really struck me was speaking aloud to yourself, even just hearing the words not just in your head can make quite a difference. About how to deal with the deathly loneliness all that plus traveling through such barren landscapes on your own can bring.

Kass asked me if I could do a favor for him. He just wants to see me one last time before I set off to fight the Calamity, share a day with him and Amali and his daughters if I could. He said it might be a selfish wish, but to place his own heart at ease before I go fight the thing, he wanted to see I was prepared and felt ready to do so, maybe by then he’d have a song all of his own for me, he had a lot of material to work with after all.

Kass just pulled me into a hug when I started crying. I thanked him and told him I’d be happy to and that I was just happy to be here with everyone. He told me he was happy too.

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

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hi everyone!!! here’s the eretra au that a few of you might remember from my wip posts a few months (?) ago! i’m really excited about it, so i hope you guys like it. it’s very loosely based off a kdrama called big, although there aren’t very many similarities. i hope you guys enjoy it :)

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My First Love Come Back to Me

Eretra. Big AU.

I’ll Love You in the Rain or Shine Series: Chapter 1

12788 words.

Read on Ao3!

Eren stands in the deli section of the grocery store staring down at the premade sandwiches that have, judging by the wilting lettuce and stiff-looking squares of cheese stuffed between dry bread buns, been sitting there all day after being passed over by other customers for more enticing premade meals like the colorful, little sushis in their plastic containers or the burritos so stuffed with filling that beans are practically spilling out of the tortilla wraps meant to contain them. He looks at one particularly sad-looking sandwich. Turkey chunks and droopy lettuce leaves are shoved inside a stale bread loaf. Tomato juice from the poor fruit that was cut to make this depressing sub bleeds out from the bun, dripping onto the plastic wrap that can hardly hold the thing together. A strange assortment of veggies also poke out from the bread - bright yellow bell peppers, chunky strips of carrots, and slices of onions - but they look as though someone has carelessly dropped them into the sandwich because they’re not even evenly dispersed through the sub. It is, Eren thinks, the most wretched sandwich he’d ever laid eyes on.

It’s a little sad, the fact that Eren is spending so much time picking out something to bring to a family dinner that he would claim, if anyone bothered to ask, to not give a single shit about. And, really, he doesn’t, but it makes him feel slightly better about going to those miserable gatherings if he’s able to bring something he knows his stepmom will hate. Except she’s not really his stepmom. To be more precise, the woman is his father’s first and only wife - the bastard having never married Eren’s mother - and his half-brother’s mother. In all honesty, Eren can completely understand why the woman hates him. He is, after all, a constant reminder of his father’s infidelity. It’s not like Eren likes her either and, with all of the snide comments about his upbringing and disappointing career path (although Eren has no idea why that is any of her business), she hasn’t given Eren any reason to.

Eren looks down at the sandwich again, leaning towards not getting it. As much as he would love to purchase it and slap it down on the dinner table with a cheerful smile, there are only so many times he can buy disgusting sandwiches for his family dinners. He really outdid himself last time with a self-made sandwich with all sorts of odd ingredients (blue cheese, coriander, tuna, onions, cherry tomatoes, the works) that had no business being slapped between the same two buns. He even remembered not to toast the bread buns. Apparently, the only thing his father’s wife hates more than sandwiches are untoasted sandwiches, but not everyone can afford a $300 panini press like she can. Apparently, any panini press with a smaller price tag can’t be called a real panini press. Eren only half-regretted his decision to bring the disgusting thing to his father’s house an hour later when he sprinted out of the house and biked half a block away to empty the contents of his stomach on the edge of a poor neighbor's sidewalk. No, a normal deli sandwich would be a step down from his previous contribution to family dinner, Eren decides.

He walks up and down the aisle of the grocery store, taking his time even though he’s already a half-hour late for dinner. (He’s doing them a favor. Nobody in their right mind should be having dinner at five when the sun is still high in the sky.) His green eyes glaze over tubs of soup and plastic bins filled with salad. For a moment, he wonders if he should walk through the shelves of chips on the other side or maybe into the frozen food section so he can haul a tub of melting ice cream to his father’s house, but he wonders if that’s too petty. It’s probably best not to, Eren thinks with a grimace. He doesn’t want to ruin junk food for himself forever.

In the end, Eren purchases a little tub of potato salad, hoping that it’ll be enough to piss off his Disney-esque sort-of stepmother. It’s not perfect, but he supposes it will do. It’s probably not as grotesque as the stuff he’s brought before, but he likes how simple it is. That woman’s definitely going to be miffed that Eren bought potato salad as if he cared so little that he couldn’t be bothered to spend a few minutes in the kitchen to make the same dish. He’s really going to enjoy seeing the vein on her forehead pulse when she sees him standing at the door with the potato salad.

Eren thanks the cashier for ringing up his purchase, sliding two dollars into the charity box next to the register, and walks away with his tub of potato salad, whistling as he practically skips out of the grocery store. He hadn’t taken as long as he would have liked; there are still fifteen minutes before six and he had hoped he would burn enough time to arrive at six-thirty, but maybe he can take a roundabout way to his dad’s house, Eren thinks as he drops the tub carelessly into the front basket of his bicycle. He unlocks his bike with a click and pulls it off the bike rack before mounting it and pedaling away.

Taking the direct route would be too quick. Eren quickly pedals across the road as soon as the road is clear and finds his way to the creek that cuts across the suburbs. It’s the same creek Eren used to play beside when he was a child. He fell in there once trying to catch a frog and his mom scolded him for being so reckless. It’s also the same creek that he frequented during the spring of his sophomore year of highschool when he was assigned to do a bug project, which Eren hated especially when the same project was no longer mandatory after his school cut the science department’s funding the year after. Eren doesn’t think he’s visited the creek ever since he graduated from high school. He blames it on college and summer internships taking up all his time and never really allowing him to return to his youth, but the truth is that Eren wouldn’t have sought out his childhood even if he had the time.

It’s not that Eren had a terrible childhood. In fact, Eren would say that he had a fairly happy childhood. True, he grew up in a (mostly) single-parent household, but his mother was always patient and attentive to him even though he was a pain the ass about 75 percent of the time. Nothing incredibly significant happened. He didn’t win any awards and he never made the honor roll, but his mother was fine with it as long as he did his best. It was strange, but he got a lot more shit about his grades from his sort-of stepmom than he did from his own mother. He’s not particularly sure what his father thought about it. Eren’s father never said much of anything to defend him, but his father hardly said anything to him at all. It was kind of like not having a father at all, so it wasn’t really that surprising when Eren found a way to avoid his old neighborhood completely after his mother passed away after his senior year of high school.

Eren hadn’t planned on returning so soon. Actually, he hadn’t planned on returning at all after he had left for college. He only came back the summer after freshman year, but he bummed it at his best friend Armin’s house and only ventured as far as Armin’s front lawn. The following summers he crashed at his ex-boyfriend’s house - an art student-turned-tattoo artist who somehow ended up setting up a shop in the city Eren and Armin grew up in - or Armin’s dorm when they were both working at their internships. Somehow, they ended up landing jobs back in their hometown because evidently the big city did not want them and they were too young and broke to go up against the universe. Maybe another day.

It’s not that bad. Despite renting an apartment near his neighborhood, Eren hasn’t run into any childhood friends that might still remember all the embarrassing things he did as a teenager. He’s bumped into a few parents at the grocery store that would smile up at him and talk about how nicely he’s grown while reaching up to ruffle his hair. Other than a few childhood friends and the “family” he feels obligated to meet due to the biological bond he unwillingly shares with his father, Eren has successfully avoided most of his past.

He pedals past his old middle school, zooming past the gates and grimacing as he remembers the less pleasant parts of his past - struggling with algebra, running a mile at seven AM, and the terrible school uniforms they forced on everyone in a strange attempt to boost standardized test scores. He’s happier when he crosses the street and is greeted with the lit-up shops - the convenience store where he’d happily slurp down slushies with Armin after school, the Chinese restaurant that his class would frequent every year for Lunar New Year’s, and the bakery store that always smelled of freshly baked tarts and pies. Eren’s pedaling slows as he approaches the bakery and he inhales deeply, his lungs filling with the scent of buttery baguettes and chocolate tarts. The aroma is so distractingly sweet. His mouth begins to water at just the thought of them, and Eren wonders why he hadn’t bothered stepping foot in the bakery since coming back. He’s about to stop his bike and pop in for a brownie or a lemon bar only to realize that he’s biking far too fast and about to crash into someone.

“Shit!” Eren’s bike screeches as he swerves out of the way and he crashes into a pole so hard that he can feel his teeth rattle. He topples to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as he rolls over onto his side that didn’t get smashed violently against a pole. When he opens his eyes, he sees stars as well as the face of an old man that he had last seen a decade ago. Eren tries to sit up, but his side is throbbing and he can only clutch at his side, trying his best to suppress a groan so as to not startle the man he had nearly collided with. He gives the man a weak smile. “Hey, Mr. Ral. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The old man’s mouth, which was already open to begin with after seeing Eren’s embarrassing bicycle collision, falls open a bit wider. “A-are you … okay?” he asks after a while, squinting a bit as he looks at Eren’s face and tries to place a name to it. Eren doesn’t really blame him for not remembering who he is. It’s been quite a while since they’ve seen each other and Eren has grown up a lot since then.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little bump,” Eren says, laughing it off. He manages to sit up and pushes himself off the ground, standing up and brushing off the little pebbles that have managed to stick to his face and clothing. He picks up his bike, leaning it against the pole before turning to the man again. “It’s Eren, by the way.” He pauses, observing Mr. Ral’s expression. When he sees that the man doesn’t recognize him, Eren politely adds, “Eren Kruger. I’m Zeke Jaeger’s younger brother.”

A spark of recognition finally lights up in the old man’s eyes at the mention of Zeke’s name. Eren’s not going to lie, but it kind of hurts. “Ah, Zeke,” Mr. Ral says fondly. Eren shifts from feeling hurt to feeling slightly jealous. “How could I ever forget him? And you, of course. You two used to play with my dear Petra back in the day.”

Petra, a name that Eren hasn’t heard in years, and yet hearing it still makes him blush like a young schoolboy. He ducks his head, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck, and he prays that Mr. Ral doesn’t notice the sudden flush of his cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been a while. How is, ah, Petra doing?” he asks. He had meant to ask the question casually, but he stumbles over the words a little too quickly.

“Petra? She’s well,” Mr. Ral answers with a smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his laughter lines deepen. He doesn’t seem to notice how flustered Eren is. “She just started teaching at the same university that Zeke is teaching at.”

That’s certainly news to Eren. Zeke hadn’t mentioned that at any of the family dinners Eren had attended recently. It could just be because Zeke hadn’t run into her yet or it had simply slipped his mind, but Eren kind of doubts it. If Petra’s father knew, then it’s highly unlikely that Zeke didn’t know. As much as Eren wants to frown, he fights the urge to turn the edges of his mouth downward and gives Mr. Ral a thin but polite smile. “That’s great to hear. What does she teach?”

“English,” Mr. Ral replies, his chest puffed out proudly. It’s endearing how much he adores his daughter. “She teaches some upper-division classes on creative writing and a few classes for freshmen on critical reading and writing.”

Eren’s smile is more genuine now, more fond as he listens to Mr. Ral speak about his daughter. “Yeah, that sounds like her. She was always really good with words.” He remembers lazy summer afternoons lying underneath the shade of a tree and pretending he was sleeping so that he could listen to Petra talk to Zeke on the front porch. It wasn’t even that he wanted to eavesdrop. He just liked the sound of her voice. Eren wonders if it’s still as wonderfully soothing and soft as he remembers.

“And what about you?” Mr. Ral asks, snapping Eren out of his reverie. The old man seems to ask out of polite obligation. It figures that he isn’t really interested in Eren’s life. After all, he hadn’t remembered that Eren existed until five minutes ago.

“I just graduated a few months ago. I majored in child education,” Eren replies. He looks down feeling slightly embarrassed although he’s not sure why. It feels like a step down from Petra’s accomplishments. His sort-of stepmom would certainly agree. She enjoys rubbing Zeke’s doctorate in Eren’s face whenever she gets the chance. Eren clears his throat and adds, “I’ve been working at Liberio Daycare. It’s near Shiganshina Elementary.”

It’s unclear whether or not Mr. Ral recognizes the name but he nods and reaches over to give Eren a pat on the arm, a grin on his face as if the old man is actually proud of him. “That’s good! Your parents must be proud.” He doesn’t notice the way Eren flinches and carries on. “It’s good to hear that you’ve been well.”

“Likewise,” Eren says. His eyes wander towards the bakery. It hadn’t occurred to him to look for Petra before, but now that he knows she’s back in town he can’t imagine doing anything else. He half hopes that she’ll be inside, maybe clearing the display for the night or wiping down the countertops, but all he sees is a girl his age at the register munching on some lavender bars that hadn’t sold. Before he can stop himself, Eren finds himself asking, “Is Petra in?”

“Petra?” Mr. Ral asks with his eyebrows raised. Maybe it does seem out of the blue that Eren’s asking. Petra was always more Zeke’s friend than Eren’s. Mr. Ral gives Eren an apologetic smile and a shake of his head. “I’m afraid not. She told me she was eating dinner at a friend’s house. I’ll let her know you stopped by. Maybe you two can catch up sometime.”

Eren shouldn’t feel so disappointed, but he can feel himself deflating at Mr. Ral’s words. He really doubts Petra would want to meet up with him. It’s not as if they were incredibly close before. Still, he gives Mr. Ral a gracious smile and says, “That would be great! I should probably get going. I have to, ah, eat dinner…” His voice trails off and he looks to bike only to find the front basket empty. Eyes straying further, he finds that his tub of potato salad had rolled out of his bike basket and onto the ground where it lay pitifully. Thankfully, the tub hasn’t broken and the potato salad hasn’t spilled out, but somehow the salad looks even more pathetic than it did when Eren purchased it. It’s something Eren would have been happy about fifteen minutes ago, but it’s embarrassing now. Quickly, he goes to pick it up and drop it into his bike basket with the slim hope that Mr. Ral wouldn’t think much about it, but Eren has never been that lucky.

Mr. Ral must find him pitiful because he asks, “Why don’t you take some dessert home?” He’s already heading back into the bakery, gesturing for Eren to follow him despite Eren’s protests. “If you don’t, they’ll just go to waste. Or into my employee’s stomach, and goodness knows that she’s already eaten enough desserts today already.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” Eren says, humbly bowing his head.

“Sasha,” Mr. Ral calls the girl at the register. “Could you ring up a few things for Eren?”

The girl’s head snaps up at the call of her name, her cheeks filled with pastry and crumbs all over her mouth. “Sure thing,” Sasha says, gulping down the last of her lavender bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She walks over to the side, Eren following her on the other side of the counter, and washes her hands hastily. As she wipes her hands dry with the hand towel, she looks at Eren brightly and asks in a chipper voice, “Do you have anything you want in particular?”

Eren’s eyes scan over the display, but he doesn’t really look at anything in particular. He just wants to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. He’s embarrassed himself quite enough for today. “Just … whatever you’d recommend,”

“Alright-y,” the girl hums, taking a bag and stuffing it full with little tarts and tea cakes and croissants. Eren looks at her briefly, realizing that he doesn’t recognize her. She must have moved here sometime during the past six years when he wasn’t around.

As Sasha finishes preparing the bag, Eren walks over to the register and gets ready to pull his wallet out but Mr. Ral walks over, shaking his head. “No need to pay for it,” Mr. Ral says. He reaches over the counter and takes the bag from Sasha, presenting it to Eren with a smile. “Consider it a treat. Really, you’d be doing me a favor just taking it. They would have gone to waste otherwise.”

“Ah, thank you,” Eren says, his face flushing once more. He takes the bag from Mr. Ral with a small bow of his head. “It was great seeing you again, Mr. Ral.”

“Likewise,” Mr. Ral says with that same crinkly smile. He walks Eren to the door, watching as Eren packs the desserts alongside his potato salad. “Take good care of yourself, Eren, and tell your brother I said hi.” He waves as Eren assures him he’ll do just that, returning to the shop only once Eren has biked away.

This is not how the night was supposed to go. Eren was supposed to be wandering around the neighborhood with his potato salad before waltzing into his father’s house an hour late, his sort-of stepmother silently fuming at the dinner table while the family sat and waited for him. He hadn’t planned on bumping into his childhood crush’s father, and he certainly hadn’t planned on looking so incredibly pathetic in front of Mr. Ral. He can only imagine what Mr. Ral will tell Petra when she sees her dad tonight. Maybe something about how he grew up to be such a loser even though his half-brother managed to graduate with a Ph.D. and is now a successful anthropology professor at the local university. It’s not something that usually gets Eren down, but thinking about it now is making him feel especially miserable.

Eren’s not sure why the thought of Petra knowing how his life is so embarrassing. He hasn’t spoken to her in years, so her opinion of him shouldn’t matter. And even if she did have an opinion of him, he’s sure it wouldn’t be unkind. Petra had always been nice to him even when he was a kid and just being an annoying third wheel to her and Zeke. When his childish admiration of her turned into puppy love and eventually evolved into a full-fledged crush, she never brushed him off or thought him annoying, although there was a chance that she just never noticed. He couldn’t blame her for that when Zeke, honor roll student and valedictorian Zeke, was always standing right in front of her. He wasn’t even surprised when they started dating. It was inevitable. And when they eventually broke up for some reason that Eren still isn’t quite sure about, Eren knew he’d never be able to compare so he never tried to pursue her. It’s not surprising that he and Petra ended up losing touch.

As much as he would love to blame Zeke for it (and it would be incredibly easy for him to blame Zeke), he can’t. Maybe it’s strange that he doesn’t harbor a deep hatred for his half-brother. Their relationship has all the makings of a classic sibling rivalry - a complicated family history, stark differences in accomplishments, and affections for the same girl - but Eren could never bring himself to hate Zeke. Even if Zeke’s mother liked to hold all of her son’s accomplishments over Eren’s head, Zeke himself never bragged about them. In fact, he was quite humble and would even offer to help his younger half-brother if he was struggling with something in school. Oftentimes he would invite Eren to hang out with his friends even though their age gap made it a little awkward. He even remembered Eren’s favorite snacks and would make sure they were in supply whenever Eren came over to visit. If Zeke’s mother was an evil Disney stepmother come to life, Zeke was that one fairytale sibling that was kind to the tragic main character, so Eren had no choice but to like Zeke. Even when Zeke broke up with Petra and Eren couldn’t understand why, when Zeke told Eren that it “just happened,” Eren kind of left it at that and accepted that because he couldn’t imagine Zeke doing anything wrong.

Could Eren be classified with an inferiority complex with regards to his brother? Probably, but most siblings can. Eren would have to challenge whether or not someone with inferiority complexes would admire their brother as much as he does, but they might in a weird way. Eren’s sure that he and Zeke’s relationship would still be complicated even if they didn’t have all the weird history with Eren and Zeke’s parents.

Eren sighs as he flies down a dip in the road, letting gravity carry him down instead of pedaling. He really doesn’t feel like he’s in the right headspace for this family dinner. Usually, he lets all of that woman’s snide comments ricochet, but his armor has grown weak and he can just imagine her landing the right thinly-veiled insult, her words burying into his skin and hitting right where it hurts. For a moment, Eren considers calling the dinner off with an excuse that will be sure to piss his stepmother off — probably something about how he has to restructure his lesson plan for the upcoming week — but he glances down at the potato salad and bag of baked goods in his bike basket and realizes that he really doesn’t want to eat them all by himself. If he’s going to suffer, he might as well make the rest of his family suffer alongside him. And besides, he’s pretty much already at their house anyway.

His bike slows as he approaches the white-picket fenced house. He takes the potato salad tub and the bag of baked goods before leaving his bike on the driveway, not bothering to chain it to the fence because nobody would want to steal the old thing he bought from a garage sale anyway. The sight of it lying in front of the house instead of properly locked up will be sure to piss off that woman too, which is just an added bonus. With a sigh, Eren marches up the front steps, shifting the food all on one arm so he can ring the doorbell. The familiar chime rings out, muted from behind the wooden door. A muffled voice mumbles something Eren can’t hear, but he already knows that the speaker has nothing good to say about him.

The door is thrown open and Eren looks down to see his stepmother glowering up at him, blue eyes a raging storm. “You’re late,” she hisses. She doesn’t even give him a greeting; she just stands there in front of him silently fuming. Behind her stands Eren’s father. As expected, he says nothing to defend his son’s tardiness. The man just stands there, uncomfortable as he quietly observes.

“Sorry, Dina,” Eren says, squeezing past his stepmother who makes an indignant noise. He dangles the food he brought in front of her face, rolling his eyes when she snatches the bag from him only to wrinkle her nose in disgust when she sees the potato salad. “I brought dessert, too. Do you want me to put it somewhere …?”

Dina snatches the bag of desserts from him too, still huffing. “We have a guest tonight too. Do you know how rude you’re being?” she says, continuing to nag at him even though Eren has stopped listening to her years ago.

Eren’s father gently grabs Eren by the elbow, subtly ushering him inside to avoid any more conflict but Eren yanks his arm away.

“Well, maybe if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have showed up on time,” Eren snaps. He sounds angry as he says it, but he really does mean it. It’s one thing to be rude to his stepmother, but it’s another thing entirely to be rude to a guest he doesn’t know. He’d at least wait for introductions before deciding whether or not to show any manners.

Before his stepmother can say anything more, Eren stomps off into the dining room where Zeke and the guest are waiting. He keeps his head down, cheeks burning, as he pulls out his chair - the one furthest from everyone - and slumps down into it. “Sorry, I’m late,” Eren mumbles, still looking down.

“Eren,” says a deep voice that Eren recognizes as Zeke’s. Hearing the voice of someone other than his stepmother’s makes Eren relax a bit and he rests with his back against his chair, a little more at ease now. He can hear Zeke’s small smile as his half-brother asks, “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke who sits across from him, and then at the guest. He looks so quickly at first that he doesn’t register exactly who he’s seeing until he does a double-take, his green eyes widening as they take in the woman sitting there. It’s someone he hadn’t expected to see ever again, much less sitting at his family’s dining table, and he’s so surprised that he almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks it might just be a doppelganger, but there’s no mistaking the soft dimples that appear in her cheeks as her lips curl in a smile. “...Petra?”

“Hi, Eren.” Petra’s voice is still as gentle and soothing as Eren remembers, the sound of it so honey-sweet that he feels his cheeks bloom a soft pink. There’s so much about her that’s different, but there’s so much more that’s the same. Her hair is shorter now, no longer falling right at her shoulder, but curling right under her chin in a short bob. It’s the same shade of ginger it was when he was a kid. If it’s under the right light, it would probably burn a fiery gold. Her doe eyes are the same pretty amber, sweet and dangerously entrancing at the same time. She’s even dressed differently, her button-up blouse and slick gray trousers such a departure from the casual jeans and t-shirts she wore ten years ago when Eren was still in high school. Eren feels horribly underdressed - his ratty university sweatshirt over a thin cotton tee and his ripped jeans are so shabby in comparison - but a glimmer of silver on Petra’s wrist attracts Eren’s attention to the charm bracelet she wears, jangling with charms that Eren remembers her collecting in her high school days, and he feels a little less like he’s meeting a stranger and more like he’s reuniting with an old friend.

“How are you?” Eren asks shyly, his smile bashful.

“I’m well,” she answers, and Eren feels himself melting into her voice the same way he did when he was thirteen. When she smiles, her head tilts ever so slightly to the right just the way it did when he first met her and her dimples deepen into her cheeks. “How are you?”

“Good,” Eren answers because he doesn’t trust himself to string together more than a word or two at a time. He wonders if she realizes how he’s unraveling at the sound of her voice or if she’s as oblivious as she was the last time.

“I’m glad,” Petra says, and the warm look Petra gives Eren reignites a flame in the pit of his belly that he had thought he extinguished long ago. Her head tilts a little bit more to the side, her eyes twinkling. “I missed you,” Petra tells him, and Eren finds himself in love once more.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

There are rules to dealing with your ex-boyfriend after you’ve broken up, Petra knows, but it’s been ten years and she figures that these rules can be bent. So what if the last time she saw Zeke she was broken-hearted, crying in the rain as he turned his back on her? She was younger then, her feelings out of control for someone who didn’t care for her nearly as much as she cared for him. And, sure, maybe it’s terrible that she never received the closure that she deserves, but she can’t hold a grudge against him forever. They work in the same university and cowering behind the nearest trashcan every time they meet doesn’t seem to be a viable option. Petra’s older now and so is Zeke. They’re mature. They can be friends like adults are after they’ve broken up, so the universe should be able to understand her accepting Zeke’s dinner request that evening even if her friends couldn’t.

She only started to regret her decision when Zeke offered to drive her there after his classes ended - saving gas and the planet, he explained - and she agreed. Although Petra repeatedly told herself that it was a simple family dinner and that such an invitation was extended to Zeke’s other friends on occasion, she found herself sitting impatiently in her office, biting her nails down so close to the quick that her fingers started to bleed. Having to bandage her fingers as she waited did absolutely nothing to soothe her nerves.

“I don’t see why you’re so nervous,” Levi tells her over the phone. He taught in the mathematics department, but they had met after Petra had nervously stumbled into the wrong building and into his office on her first day at the university. The man has a perpetual scowl on his face, and that very same expression had nearly sent Petra running until she weakly explained that she must have gotten lost and he kindly redirected her to the building her office was located in. She thought that was going to be the end of their interaction until he emailed her shortly after asking if she had gotten to her office alright. Finding him a kindred spirit, he had become her first (and sadly only) companion at the university aside from Zeke. “If you’re friends with him, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

“Well, it’s just that I haven’t really seen him since we, you know, broke up,” Petra explains, but she doubts that Levi understands. She had told him her history with Zeke a few weeks ago after he asked her why she was so jittery at the faculty luncheon, but he didn’t have much of a reaction. It was sort of nice having someone to talk to that wasn’t as hyperbolically reactive as the rest of her friends, but it was also painfully difficult when Levi didn’t show her any sympathy.

“You saw him last week when you were at the library to look for reference books,” he reminds her as if it were the same thing. “I don’t know why this dinner has you in a panic. You left me nearly a hundred messages while I was teaching class.” He hadn’t even replied to her texts, the bastard. He had simply left her on read until midnight before sending her a thumbs-up emoji to let her know that he had read her messages, which was not exactly the response Petra was waiting for.

“This is different!” Petra insists, but she knows Levi will never see it that way.

“You’re making this a much bigger deal than it needs to be,” Levi says. She can hear him scribbling something on the other end, probably correcting exams for his differential equations classes and marking a poor student’s paper in an abundance of red. “Either cancel or just go to dinner with him. You’ve had family dinners with him even before you guys got together right?”

“Yeah, but that was back when we were kids,” Petra mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“Then you’ll be fine,” he tells her.

“You’re horribly unsympathetic sometimes,” she sighs.

“If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn’t have called me,” Levi says with a cluck of his tongue, but he chuckles when he hears her groan on the other end. “Really, it’ll be fine. You’re just overthinking it. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And you said the kid will be there, right? His brother, so it’s not as if you’ll be alone with Zeke and his parents.”

Petra lays with her head on her desk, her phone pressed against her cheek. “Yeah, you’re right,” she mumbles, but her lower lip still sticks out in a pout. The thought of Eren being there, sweet little Eren with his eager puppy eyes and wide smile, does make her feel better if only a little. She probably hasn’t seen him since she broke up with Zeke. She wonders if he’s changed very much. He’d be in college now? Or maybe he graduated. “I haven’t seen him in awhile though. What if he hates me now?”

“You’re overthinking again,” Levi says. He sighs on the other end. If Petra didn’t know him very well, she would think she was bothering him, but he’s always like this. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes. No. Maybe,” Petra sniffs. She looks sadly at her bandaged fingers and picks at the ends of one of them. “Should I just cancel? Maybe I can tell him I fell down the stairs and had to go to the hospital or something -” Someone knocks at the door and Petra lets out a startled yelp, nearly falling out of her chair because she’s so surprised. When she looks at the door, she sees Zeke’s silhouette against the frosted glass pane. The sight of it makes her want to hide behind her desk. “God, he’s here already!”

“Too late for you to run then,” Levi says, not even bothering to hide his snickering. He’s such a sadist that Petra doesn’t even know why she’s friends with him sometimes. “Have fun at your absolutely normal dinner with your friend and his family.” Click!

“Asshole,” Petra mutters under her breath before shoving her phone in her bag. There’s another knock at the door — the same long, slow knocks that are a signature of Zeke’s — and she hastily shouts, “I’ll be right there!” before shoving her papers in her bag and stumbling out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process. She must look like a mess because Zeke raises an eyebrow at her when she emerges from her office. Petra catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window and winces at her frumpled shirt and the hair falling out of her bun. She mumbles an apology as she pulls the hair ties out of her bun, her hair falling in loose curls around her face.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Zeke asks.

“No! God, no,” Petra says, inwardly cringing at every word that comes out of her mouth. Even she can tell how awkward her responses sound, a little too quick and desperate. What is she being so anxious for? It’s just dinner with a friend — an ex-boyfriend, but a friend nonetheless. Petra clears her throat and asks as casually as she can manage, “How are your parents?”

“Hmm? They’re well, I suppose,” he answers. Everything about him is familiar. He’s grown just a bit taller since Petra last saw him, his shoulders a bit broader and his jawline a bit sharper, but he still wears the same double-bridge glasses and the right corner of his mouth still quirks upward just the slightest bit when he speaks. He even walks the same way, his strides a little too long and quick, and Petra finds that she still has to struggle a bit to keep up. If Zeke notices the same thing about her - how she still wears the same shade of lipstick, how she still has that habit of wrapping her hair around her finger when she’s nervous like she’s doing now, how she bites her lip when she’s not sure what to say next - he doesn’t mention it. “My father’s still working at the hospital with my grandfather. He’s been promoted to director of the orthopedics department.”

“Oh, congrats!”

“And you know my mother has been at the hospital now that she doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” Zeke says. It’s strange how casually he says this, as if he doesn’t remember that the last time he spoke about his mother to Petra was when they were still together. “She really missed being in the OR. Says she’d rather be doing surgeries all day than taking care of me.”

“It’s nice that she can go back to it.” She nearly stumbles over a step but catches the railing before she can. When she looks up again, Zeke is already on the sidewalk and she hurries after him, a little breathless. “And Eren?”

“Eren?” Zeke seems a little surprised by the question although Petra doesn’t know why. He leads her to a car - a slick Mercedes with a shining blue exterior and tinted windows that don’t quite match Zeke’s academic profession — and opens the car doors with a click.

“Your brother,” she clarifies as Zeke walks over to the driver’s side and slips into the car. She opens the passenger car and slides into the seat beside Zeke, setting her bag down next to her feet. The door swings shut behind her. “He’s coming to the dinner too, right?”

Zeke turns on the engine and the car comes to life with a pleasant hum. “Most likely,” Zeke says as he checks the side and rearview mirrors before pulling out of the parking space. He even drives the same way, his arm resting on the side with his hand tapping against the door while one hand is on the wheel. Just watching him makes Petra’s chest feel tight.

“Ah, that’s good. I haven’t seen him in so long,” Petra says. For some reason, knowing that Eren will also be there makes her feel a little more relaxed about the dinner. “Is he still in college? I think he should have graduated by now.”

“He graduated a little while ago. He’s teaching now. Still on probation, but he says his colleagues like him so he’s not too worried about getting tenure after the probationary period is over.” He slows the car to a stop at an intersection and leans over, fiddling with the radio dial. He sets it to the jazz station and the sound of smooth brass and relaxed percussion fills the car.

Somehow, driving down the streets with Zeke is far more nostalgic than it ever was when Petra drove on her own. Some nights Petra drove home by herself, and all it ever felt was lonely. Maybe it’s the familiarity of having Zeke beside her like when they were teenagers, driving back home after watching a movie downtown or returning from a basketball game at their high school.

Petra doesn’t ask any more questions about Zeke’s family. She figures she can catch up with the rest of the Jaegers when she sees them at dinner. Instead, she asks Zeke about his classes and finds that conversation with him comes more easily after she stops stumbling over her words. He tells her a little bit about teaching anthropology (“Far less painful than you think it would be, at least when the kids aren’t just taking it to fulfill their core classes,” he says), his plans for the upcoming week (“It’s midterms, but the students should be fine if they actually look at the study guide.”), and the butterfly exhibit opening up at the museum downtown (“I’m thinking of putting it up as extra credit. Who knows, they might actually look at the other exhibits while they’re wandering around.”). Petra also fills him in on her own life, mumbling about how she still has to make the answer key to her own midterm and expressing interest in the butterfly exhibit Zeke mentions.

They pull up next to Zeke’s house, the very same one he grew up with. Not much has changed from the outside. The white picket fence is a little worn and the rose bushes have been replaced with peonies. The house is still the same shade of cream, but Petra is sure that the Jaegers had it repainted over the summer like they usually do. She looks up at the second-story window where Zeke’s room should be and vaguely wonders if it’s still his room or if he’s moved out and hasn’t mentioned it yet.

Walking up the brick steps to the door is a bit surreal. Petra doesn’t realize just how silent she’s been until the chime of the doorbell startles her and Mrs. Jaeger opens the door. As with most of Zeke’s family members, Petra hasn’t seen Mrs. Jaeger since she broke up with Zeke, but she had an amicable relationship with her. She can’t recall Mrs. Jaeger ever being angry, so she’s surprised when Zeke’s mother opens the door with a terrible scowl on her face.

“Mom, you remember Petra,” Zeke says, moving aside so that Petra can enter first.

The scowl quickly slips from Mrs. Jaeger’s face, replaced with a smile that Petra is more familiar with. “Petra, of course! I haven’t seen you in ages,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her voice strained. She waves Petra and Zeke in, shutting the door gently behind them. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Petra mumbles. She looks at the kitchen doorway where Zeke’s father leans and gives him an awkward wave. The man, just as silent as he was when Petra was young, gives her a polite smile and a nod in acknowledgment.

“Sorry, we’re a bit late,” Zeke apologizes as he shrugs off his coat. He walks over to the dining room, Petra and his mother trailing behind him. “A student wanted to talk to me and it took a bit longer than I thought it would.”

“No need to apologize! Eren hasn’t arrived yet anyway. He’ll probably be late. Again.” There’s a harsh tone in Mrs. Jaeger’s voice that Petra hasn't heard before. When she looks up, she sees Zeke’s mother hovering around the table and arranging dishes, the same polite smile on her face as she does so. “Your brother, of course, didn’t bother to send a text to notify us that he’d be late.”

Petra wonders if Mrs. Jaeger usually speaks about Eren with such disappointment in her voice. Maybe she had always spoken about Eren like this and Petra had never been around to witness it or maybe it’s something that developed while Petra was away. Whatever it is, Zeke and his father seem used to it. Zeke merely shrugs, pulling out his phone to flip through his phone while his mother continues to mutter about how disrespectful her stepson is. Mr. Jaeger continues to stand at the doorway, not bothering to join them at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the carpet. He doesn’t bother to defend his son.

“Maybe he’s busy,” Petra says, interrupting Mrs. Jaeger mid-rant. She feels rude for speaking while Mrs. Jaeger is talking, but sitting in silence while Zeke’s mother speaks ill of Eren doesn’t feel right either. All eyes are on her now - Mrs. Jaeger a little surprised, Zeke with an eyebrow quirked upward as if in amusement, and his father with a look that’s almost relieved. Petra clears her throat and continues. “He’s a teacher, right? It must be difficult teaching so many children every day — making the lesson plan and everything. Maybe texting slipped his mind. He’ll probably be here soon.”

God, she hopes Eren will be here soon. Her cheeks are starting to burn bright red and she’s thinking that perhaps speaking up might not have been the best decision.

“Ah, you’re probably right.” Mrs. Jaeger seems a little more composed now, perhaps remembering that they have company over. She settles down in the chair across from Zeke and flashes a pleasant smile at Petra. “He can be quite forgetful of these things. Of course, you’d never worry your father like this. You’ve always been so responsible.”

Has talking with Zeke’s mother always been this difficult? Petra’s head is starting to spin, unsure of what response would be appropriate. She feels as if she should defend Eren, but she doesn’t want to make things awkward either. In the end, she smiles awkwardly at Mrs. Jaeger as if accepting the woman’s compliment and reaches out for the glass of water in front of her, raising it to her lips before she can say anything else that she might regret.

“Dear, come sit next to me,” Mrs. Jaeger calls. She gestures for her husband to join them at the table and Mr. Jaeger stiffly walks over from the doorway before taking a seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Jaeger folds her hands on the table, her gaze still on Petra. “How have you been, Petra? We haven’t heard from you in a while. How long have you been back?”

The series of questions leave Petra tongue-tied and unsure of how to answer. It’s so strange how casual the Jaegers can be about asking after her, like she hadn’t been such a large part of their lives — or at least Zeke’s life — ten years ago before disappearing completely. As if they didn’t know the real reason she hadn’t kept in touch. She’s not sure if she’ll ever be able to act as oblivious as them.

“Er, I’ve been back for a while now,” she replies. She bites her lip when she sees the look of surprise on Mrs. Jaeger’s face. When she glances over at Zeke, he doesn’t look back at her. He’s returned his gaze to his phone screen, ignoring her. Nervously, she laughs. “I guess Zeke didn’t tell you, but I’m teaching at the same university he is. A few undergraduate English classes and then a graduate course on nature and romantic poetry.” Petra doesn’t know why she feels a lump at the back of her throat or the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. She nibbles at her lip again, looking down at her lap so that she doesn’t have to look at Zeke or his family. She doesn’t have a reason to feel hurt or upset. Maybe Zeke was busy and didn’t have the chance to mention it to his parents or maybe it just slipped his mind. It isn’t a big deal.

“Oh, that must be nice! Who knew you two would be working together after all these years?” Mrs. Jaeger says. She subtly pushes the cheese plate on the table towards Petra, gesturing for her to take one.

“Mmm,” Petra says, nodding as if she agrees with Mrs. Jaeger. It’s not as if she’s wrong. Petra certainly didn’t know any of this would happen. She knew some of it would — getting her degree, teaching at a university, eating dinner with Zeke’s parents — she just hadn’t predicted other things like Zeke breaking up with her, not speaking with him for ten years after knowing him her entire life, or having to pretend that she’s okay.

Petra reaches for a cracker and a spread of raspberry goat cheese and shoves the entire thing in her mouth, hoping that she won’t have to answer any more questions.

“The university is nice,” Zeke’s father murmurs. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night. The sound of his voice startles Petra, but the other Jaegers don’t seem too surprised. “It’s near the museum too. Very convenient.”

“Ah, the museum!” Mrs. Jaeger clasps her hands together and looks at Petra expectantly. Petra nearly chokes on her cracker out of nervousness. “Have you been there yet?”

“Er, not yet,” Petra says hastily, wincing at the pain in her throat. She takes a quick sip of her water to relieve it. “I haven’t really found the time, I guess.”

“Oh, you should absolutely go!” says Mrs. Jaeger brightly. Petra had never thought Mrs. Jaeger was one to love museums, but there’s probably a lot about the woman that Petra doesn’t know now. All Petra really remembers about the woman is that she stayed at home during the daytime and worked at the hospital at night. She’s bound to have found other ways to occupy her time now that she doesn’t have to worry about Zeke anymore.

“You sound as if you really enjoy it.” Petra nibbles at another cracker. She feels as if she should smile right now, but she’s not sure if she’s able to. “Are there any exhibits you would recommend?”

“Oh, they’re all good! The staff especially …,” Mrs. Jaeger gushes, but her voice begins to trail off. Her eyes flicker over to Zeke as if waiting for a sign to proceed, but her son pays no attention to her. He simply reaches over for an almond on the cheese plate and pops it into his mouth. His mother’s smile tightens and she continues, “The butterfly exhibit that’s opening soon should be exquisite!”

Petra looks from Zeke to Mrs. Jaeger. Aside from Mrs. Jaeger’s forced smile, Petra really can’t tell what’s wrong, so she puts on a false smile of her own and nods. “I know. Zeke was telling me about it on the ride here.”

There’s a long and awkward silence. Zeke puts no effort in speaking and neither does his father, who still sits and stares at his lap. Only Mrs. Jaeger and Petra seem to be putting in any effort to pick up the conversation, both trying to appear calm as they search for some common ground to work with. Instead, the doorbell rings and Petra swears she hears a sigh of relief escape Mrs. Jaeger’s lips.

“It seems Eren has finally arrived,” Mrs. Jaeger says, her chair scraping across the floor as she gets up from the table. As she turns to leave, she flashes Petra an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry you had to wait so long.” Petra is about to tell her that it wasn’t a problem, that she didn’t mind waiting (even if it was a lie), but Zeke’s mother has already disappeared into the next room with Zeke’s father following silently behind her.

For a moment, Petra wonders if she should try to talk to Zeke so more. It’s not that the quiet bothers her, but she’s never felt comfortable sitting silently next to others unless she was completely comfortable with them. Ten years ago this would have been fine, but now sitting with Zeke beside her without saying a word is making her skin crawl and her throat dry. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his interest.

Zeke doesn’t seem to be bothered by the silence at all. He’s still scrolling through his phone, occasionally reaching out to pluck a cracker or another almond from the cheese plate. If he’s fine without any conversation, Petra figures she shouldn’t bother him. She settles down with her back against her chair rather unhappily and tries to occupy herself another way.

Petra tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on in the other room. First, she stares down at the lace tablecloth, gazing at the delicate pattern until the floral designs are burned into her corneas. Mrs. Jaeger’s voice begins to drift into the dining room, her tone just as cold and harsh as it was when she spoke about Eren earlier this evening. Another voice floats into the room as well, a voice like Eren’s but a bit deeper and rougher than Petra remembers. As the two continue to talk, Petra finds herself straining to listen to the conversation, but she can’t quite make out the words. The words exchanged don’t sound incredibly pleasant though.

“...if you told me we were having a guest beforehand I would have shown up on time,” Eren hisses as he walks into the room. He’s taller than he was when Petra had seen him last — probably as tall as his brother if not taller — but he walks with his head down and doesn’t seem to notice Petra seated at the table even as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Without looking up, Eren mumbles, “Sorry, I’m late.”

Zeke looks up, his expression amused. “Eren,” he says, setting down his phone for once. He rests his chin in his hand, mouth quirked upward in a smile. “Aren’t you going to say hi to our guest?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” Eren says, mumbling into his lap. His eyes flicker upward, first at Zeke and then Petra, but he doesn’t really register who Petra is until he takes another glance. His eyes are huge like a doe’s. He’s always had big eyes even when he was a child, large and green like gemstones. He’s grown into them more since the last time Petra has seen him, but they’re still enormous, growing wider as he recognizes her. His mouth falls open in surprise. “... Petra?”

She can feel her lips curling in a smile. “Hi, Eren.”

Eren smiles back at her, a little nervous but a lot more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He’s still shy when he smiles, looking up at her before glancing down at his lap again. “How are you?” He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer slouching.

“I’m well. How are you?”

“Good,” Eren answers.

“I’m glad. I missed you,” Petra tells him, and she means it.

His smile is a little wider now and Petra feels the most relaxed than she’s been the entire night. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, at least Eren hasn’t changed and she feels less awkward being at a Jaeger family dinner after ten years of estrangement.

Mrs. Jaeger puts down a tub of what looks like a potato salad on the table, opening the container with a frown. “At least you didn’t come empty-handed,” she comments wryly.

Eren winces but doesn’t say anything.

Petra sits up. “It looks, um, delicious.” It doesn’t. It looks like a pile of mush and not at all like anything edible, but Petra begins to spoon some on her plate anyway out of politeness despite the look of alarm on Eren’s face. “Eren, your brother told me you started teaching recently. Where do you teach?”

“Just, um, down the street. Not really elementary … it’s a daycare,” he says distractedly as he watches her help herself to his potato salad. Eren hesitates for a moment before taking the spoon from Petra and switching their plates. He does it absentmindedly, almost as if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he notices everyone looking at him peculiarly. Flustered, he explains, “It’s not, ah, I don’t think it’s very good. So.” As if to prove his point, he puts a heaping spoonful of it into his mouth, gagging on it as he swallows it down, and scrunches his face up in disgust.

Mrs. Jaeger looks rather smug as Eren chokes. “I’ll just put this away then,” she says, removing the tub of potato salad from the table. She gestures for Petra to help herself to the other food on the table. “Help yourself to everything else, Petra.”

“Er, thank you,” Petra says. She does feel bad about not eating the potato salad, but Eren looks pretty relieved. Because she’s talked Zeke’s ear off in the car and doesn’t know how to carry on a conversation with the Jaeger parents, she decides to continue her conversation with Eren. “Daycare seems like it would suit you. I bet you’re great with kids.”

“I’m alright,” Eren mumbles as he pushes the potatoes back and forth on his plate, but he’s hiding a smile on his face, secretly pleased. He’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, which Petra thinks is an endearing trait. “Teaching at a university is probably harder.” He freezes for a moment and then hurriedly adds, “Your dad told me you work as a professor now. I ran into him before coming here. He mentioned that you taught English …?”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, casting a side glance at Zeke. She thought Zeke would have mentioned that they were working at the same university, but maybe it never came up in conversation between the brothers or they just weren’t as close as they were before. Forcing a smile on her face, she nods, “Yeah, I teach English, but I wouldn’t say teaching university is more or less difficult than handling a daycare. They have their own challenges, right?”

“Yeah,” Eren replies, voice soft. His smile grows wider and, after Petra asks him about what it’s like teaching at the daycare, starts animatedly talking about his students. He seems very endeared towards a young girl named Gabi, a very mischievous but sweet troublemaker, and her companion Falco, a young boy that often has no choice but to be dragged into all of Gabi’s shenanigans.

Talking to Eren makes the rest of the dinner go by easily. He’s always been easy to talk to even when they were teenagers and she was dating Zeke. Sometimes she would wait at the Jaeger house and talk with Eren while they waited for Zeke to come back from baseball practice. Eren was always so animated when he talked, using his hands and sometimes bouncing up and down his seat when he got excited. He still does that now as he talks about his work at the daycare, listening intently whenever Petra or even Zeke exchange their own stories about teaching. It makes her feel as if the past ten years hadn’t really happened, like Zeke and Eren had been a part of her life the entire time.

“Oh, I brought dessert,” Eren says brightly. Before Mrs. Jaeger can say anything, he gets up to collect the paper bag on the kitchen counter and plops it on the dining table. He pushes it closer to Petra. “Your dad gave me some while he was closing up his shop.”

She laughs. “I eat too many of these as it is,” Petra says, but she plucks an almond cookie from the bag. Her teeth sink into the cookie, savoring its subtle nutty flavor on her tongue, and sighs. “Don’t tell my dad. He won’t let me eat anymore when I get home.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Eren grins.

Petra peers into the bag. “Did he give you any chocolate croissants?” She looks over at Eren. “Those are still your favorites, right?”

Eren looks surprised. “Ah, yeah,” he replies, blinking. “You remember?”

“Of course, I remember,” she snorts. She manages to find a pain au chocolat and places it delicately on Eren’s plate. It’s a little smooshed from the ride here, chocolate spilling out of its side, but Eren still looks at it hungrily. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Zeke leans forward. “I like the lemon bars. Let me know if there are any in there.”

She laughs and actually does manage to find one, but it’s a lemon-lavender bar. Zeke assures her it’s fine, picking off the little bits of lavender that are on the top of the bar. They eat like that for a moment and Petra feels an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. It’s probably unhealthy to yearn for the past, but Petra wouldn’t mind if things somehow ended up the way they were before.

When their dishes are scraped clean and the conversations begin to fade away, Zeke pats down the corner of his mouth with a napkin before announcing that they should stop for the night. He has papers to grade tonight, he explains to his parents who nod understandingly. The wooden legs of his chair scrape against the carpet as he gets up from the table and Petra slides out of her own seat, ready to follow him.

“Ah, Petra,” Zeke says, pausing like he’s just remembered. He looks at her, head tilting slightly. He’s stopped by the door to the living room, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Do you mind calling an Uber to pick you up? I’d drive you home myself but …”

“I …” Petra blinks, feeling like a deer in headlights. If she looked around, she would see that the rest of the Jaeger family has a similar expression. She’s not sure why she feels so surprised. Maybe it’s because she had expected him to drive her home, but maybe that was too much to ask of him after he had taken the trouble to drive her here in the first place. It’s not even that far of a drive to her house, but it’s probably too cumbersome for Zeke, who’s busy with grading papers and preparing for tomorrow’s lectures. There’s an awful lump in her throat like she had swallowed an egg whole, but Petra forces a smile on her face as she begins, “Sure, let me just call my dad -”

“I’ll take you home,” a voice says suddenly. Everyone turns to see Eren standing up from his chair. At first glance he looks angry, but Petra blinks again and there’s only concern on his face as he collects his jacket and walks over to Petra. He shrugs it on and smiles down at her, his expression a little apologetic. “Er, you don’t mind riding on a bike, do you?”

Petra has to lift her head to look at Eren and she wonders when he had gotten so tall. It must have been after she left for college. “No, that’s fine,” she replies numbly, too shocked to really think about it. She shuffles silently after Eren, mumbling a brief “thank you” when he helps her into her coat.

“It was lovely having you over again, dear,” Mrs. Jaeger says to Petra, a smile pasted on the woman’s face as she saw the two out. She doesn’t say anything about Zeke not offering Petra a ride back. “Do come again sometime.”

“Of course,” Petra says, although the promise feels empty. She’s not sure if Mrs. Jaeger notices or even cares because the woman shuts the door in her face before Eren and Petra are even out in the driveway. It’s not a cold gesture, but it’s a change from the days when Mrs. Jaeger would wait until Petra was almost out of sight before shutting the door and disappearing into the house.

Petra shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat and follows Eren down the driveway, watching as he runs to the bike he had carelessly discarded on the ground before entering the house earlier. Embarrassed, Eren hastily picks up the bike, brushing it off and mumbling something about how he had been in too much of a hurry earlier to properly lock up his bike. Petra assures him it’s fine. She’s only half-listening anyway.

“You can just sit here,” Eren says, patting a padded seat on the back of his bike. He throws a leg over his bike easily and looks at Petra, waiting expectantly.

She hadn’t objected to the ride home before, but now she looks at Eren’s vehicle of choice skeptically. “Are you sure you’ll be able to pedal with me on it? I’m a whole other person.” Petra hovers beside the bike, but she doesn’t get on.

“Yeah, it’s fine. It was fine when my boyfriends were riding in the back, and they’re a lot heavier than you,” Eren replies. It takes him a moment to register what he just said and then his face begins to color, cheeks glowing pink even in the dim moonlight. “I mean my ex-boyfriends. I rode around with my ex-girlfriend too, but she was really tiny too. She was …” He probably would have babbled on and on if Petra hadn’t sat down.

“Your exes?” Petra asks, eyebrow raised. She hadn’t really thought about Eren dating, but it’s funny to think about now. She doesn’t remember if he ever dated anyone when he was in high school. She probably shouldn’t tease, but she can’t resist grinning at the boy and saying, “It looks like you were busy in college.”

“Not that busy. Just … probably as busy as your average college student,” Eren mumbles under his breath, face still flushed. He gestures at Petra’s hands and then makes a motion around his waist. “You can … around me if, you know, you’re comfortable with it.”

“Oh, right.” She leans forward and wraps her arms around Eren’s waist and wonders briefly how someone so tall can have such a thin waist. “Do you remember the way to my house?” she asks.

“Of course,” Eren says. “It’s not that far from here.”

For some reason, the way Eren answers makes Petra feel warm. Maybe it’s just the heat transfer from resting her cheek on his back. She closes her eyes, feeling the wind rush around her as Eren bikes her back home.

It feels so comfortable, clinging onto someone so familiar and breathing in Eren’s scent, something like pinewood and a little bit of peppermint. He feels strong too, sturdy like a redwood tree. Petra doesn’t know why she doubted his ability to bike with her additional weight. He’d probably be fine having someone twice her weight in tow. She experimentally gives Eren’s waist a little squeeze. It must have been too sudden of a squeeze because they come to a screeching stop, Petra’s face slamming against Eren’s back and the two of them nearly go flying.

“Oh, ouch,” Petra says. One arm is still wrapped around Eren’s lithe waist, but she raises a hand to rub her stinging face. “That hurts.”

“S-sorry!” Eren stammers. He twists around to get a good look at Petra, forehead wrinkling. “I didn’t mean to stop so suddenly I was just … surprised.” He brings his hand down to where Petra’s arm is hooked around his waist, but he snatches his hand away as soon as their skin brushes as if he’s been burned. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Petra assures him. Her nose is throbbing dully, but it’s not bleeding. “It’s my fault anyway. I was just surprised. You’re a lot bigger than you were the last time I saw you.”

“I’m alright,” Eren says with a shy laugh. He pushes off on the bike and starts for home again, pedaling easily despite Petra’s weight. He doesn’t startle when Petra leans against him again, her cheek rubbing against the cotton of his hoodie. His breath hitches a little when Petra wraps her arms a little tighter around his waist, but it goes unnoticed by her.

“Were they nice?” she asks. Eren makes a confused noise, and she can’t help but smile. Clarifying, she says, “Your exes. Were they nice?”

Eren pedals in silence for a while before responding. “Yeah. They were nice.”

“That’s good.” Petra sighs against his back, not noticing the way he shivers as if he can feel her breath on his skin. “You deserve to date nice people.”

Petra might have imagined it, but she thinks she hears Eren say something in reply. He says it quietly, though, and the wind carries it away too quickly for her to hear. She straightens her back, lifting her head from where it rests against Eren’s back, but he doesn’t repeat himself and she doesn’t ask. Maybe it’s just one of those things that are meant to be spoken aloud but not heard by anyone.

They don’t speak much the rest of the way home. Petra figures Eren is having enough trouble biking with two people and holding a conversation would only tire him out more. She just lets herself rest against him, watching as they pass streetlight after streetlight. It probably would have been more convenient to call a Lyft or an Uber, but Petra thinks accepting Eren’s bike ride isn’t bad either. It saved her from having to wait awkwardly for her driver to find the house while Zeke’s parents waited for her to leave.

She wonders if she should have gone to dinner in the first place. Maybe Zeke had only invited her out of politeness, but she had taken it to mean more than it did. She’s stupid to think that arriving at the Jaeger house meant that things could go back to the way things were. It was noticeably tense in the house. At first, Petra thought it was because of the strained relationship between Mrs. Jaeger and Eren, but now she’s not so sure. It’s not as if Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger had met her with open arms. They hadn’t been hostile, but they were polite in the way that people were polite to house guests and not in the way they would be to a childhood friend of their son. God, she’s so stupid. She should have just declined Zeke’s offer politely and never spoken to him again since he was obviously content with not speaking with her for ten years.

Burying her face in Eren’s hoodie, Petra gives him another squeeze. Eren doesn’t brake this time. He just lets out a surprised “oh!” and falters for a bit, bike slowing, before picking his pace back up and continuing on their way.

“We’re almost there,” Eren tells her. As he approaches Petra’s house, the bike begins to slow before stopping completely in front of the driveway. When Petra lifts her head, Eren is looking at her, smiling. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Petra nods. She gets off the bike and pats down her windswept hair, brushing some stray locks out of her face. She manages to smile back at Eren. “Thanks for the ride back. I hope it wasn’t too out of your way.”

“It’s fine.” Eren sits at his bike, his smile a little lopsided. He looks as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes. It’s only when Petra turns around towards her house that he opens his mouth. “Hey, Petra?”

Petra’s hand rests on the gate of her wooden fence, just about to open it. She looks at Eren, watching as he fidgets with the handle of his bike. “Yeah?”

“Did Zeke …?” His voice trails off and Eren’s looking everywhere except at her face. He nibbles on his bottom lip and Petra wonders what he’s so nervous about. His expression looks pained as if he’s scared whatever he has to say will hurt her, but Petra’s not sure why it would. After a moment, Eren swallows and forces a smile on his face. “Did Zeke tell you that … I work near your university?”

“You do?”

Eren nods. He looks a lot less nervous now, his shoulders relaxed. “Well, it’s not that far by bike.”

“Really?” Petra hums. “I should come visit you some time then.”

“Oh, you don’t have to -”

“Or you could visit me?” she suggests.

He blinks. “I can?” Eren asks. “Is that really okay?”

Petra almost laughs. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You should just let me know beforehand if you’re coming,” she tells him. She walks over, pulling her phone out of her purse and handing it to him so he can add his number. “Text me or call me. I might not respond right away because I might have a faculty meeting or a lecture, but I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“Oh, alright then,” Eren says. He types away on her phone, handing it back to her as soon as he’s finished. He watches with wide green eyes as Petra sends him an emoji — a simple “Hi, Eren! It’s Petra 😊” — and looks back at her with a grin. “I’ll come visit sometime.”

“That’d be great,” Petra says, and she really means it. “Thanks again for the ride, Eren. I really appreciate it.”

“It was no problem,” Eren tells her. He waves as walks through the gate and up the steps of her porch. He’s still waving when she opens the door and turns around, his smile a little goofy but cute at the same time. “Have a good night!”

“You too,” Petra says before shutting the door gently behind her. She takes a peek out the window and sees Eren still on the sidewalk with the bike. He stands there with a pensive look on his face before pushing off his bike and riding off into the night. Petra watches until he’s a tiny speck down the road. When she blinks, he’s gone.

Petra finds her dad waiting for her in the living room, sleeping because he can’t stay awake for very long after dinner. In his lap sits a half-finished crossword puzzle. Petra smiles affectionately at her father before pressing a soft kiss on the old man’s brow.

“I’m home,” she whispers as her father begins to stir.

“Ah, Petra,” says her father. He looks at her, eyes still bleary with sleep, and gives her a drowsy smile. With a hand, he pushes up the glasses that were slipping off his nose during sleep. “Did Zeke drive you home?”

Her lips press into a thin line. “No. He was busy,” Petra replies, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “Eren took me home instead.”

“Eren?” her father repeats, not seeming to remember the name.

“Zeke’s younger brother,” Petra reminds him. She leans against the back of her father’s armchair as she tries to describe the half-brother. “He was a few years younger than me. Brown hair, big green eyes, kind of gangly.”

“Oh, Eren,” her father says, nodding. Petra’s not sure if he actually remembers or if he’s just being polite, but then he suddenly says, “I saw him earlier this evening before I was closing up shop. He’s very polite. He’s a nice boy.”

Petra leans over to rest her head on her father’s shoulder while her arms lay folded on the back of the armchair. She thinks about her ride home, how it could have been cold and miserable and lonely. And maybe her thoughts were all of those things, but the ride wasn’t. She can still feel the warmth Eren emanated from underneath his hoodie, how comforting it was to have someone to hold.

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy,” Petra says softly.

#eretra #petra ral #eren jaeger #zeke jaeger #big au #ilyitros #i'll love you in the rain or shine series #modern au #snk #damn i love food so much!!!

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joshslater · 5 years

Text

Summer with Uncle Bob

I don't even know how many years ago I last saw uncle Bob. His small cattle farm in Oklahoma is like 30 hours drive away from Tacoma, and we couldn't afford to fly, so the visits had been few and far apart. Now at least I am old enough to make the trip on my own. A three day greyhound bus trek down the west coast to LA and then inland through Phoenix to Tulsa. But even in my sleep deprived state there was no mistaking uncle Bob. He looked just as I remembered him, a caricature of a cattle farmer. Despite being my fathers younger brother, he looked way more imposing with his broad, rough body barely contained in his Levis jeans and Carhartt long sleeve shirt. And a John Deere cap on top it all off.

He picked me up at the bus station in his ludicrously oversized truck. Unlike in the coast states the wear showed he actually needed such a vehicle. He tossed my bags onto the flat bed and we jumped in for the 2+ hour drive to his farm. Although the sun was mercilessly shining at us, and the scent of cow, diesel, man and dashboard mixed, I was getting less tired. Bob appeared genuinely happy to see me, and wanted to know as much as he could about my life.

I told him about mum and dad, my sister, our home. I told him about the few friends I had, our interest for engineering and how we competed in robowars. I told him about school and what subjects I like and don't like. How I excelled in math but never seem to get my growth spurt to do anything right in PE. I told him about the bullying that had gotten worse every year as my oppressors had outpaced me. I told him about beatings and the "accident" without witnesses that December that put me in hospital. I told him how my friends begun to stay away to avoid having an accident themselves, or be witness to one. I told him that his invitation to spend the summer with him was why I hadn't killed myself.

- We haven't seen much of each other, but we're all family here. I want you to know that you can always call me if you want to talk. There will always be a bed waiting if you want to come down here and get away from everything. No one will bother you.

We shared a silent moment.

- But not this time! I can't get away from a livestock farm for long. The only reason I could pick you up is because Tom and Sib expects you to pull your weight while here. I know it will feel like a punishment, but I'm not going to give you something you can't handle.

The farm was really two farms that had joined at some point. Bob and Cathleen lived on the larger of the farm houses, while Tomasz and Sbigniew, or Tom and Sib as everyone called them, lived in the smaller farm house at the opposite side of the farm. Both had immigrated from Poland. Sib had been a farmer there too, and Tom had been in the army.

It was late afternoon when we arrived at the farm. Tom, Sib and Cat had heard the truck approaching and were all gathered to greet us.

- So before we do anything else we have a little surprise for you.

Bob took the lead, walking us to a farm building. When we entered I realized that it was the slaughterhouse.

- We only use the abattoir for our own need. Everything we sell is trucked away live. I thought, we can't have you kill a bully, but we can kill a bull. Cat and I thought it would do you good to have some grade A protein over the summer, so this is going to be your bull. I reckon we'll get 400 lbs in cuts from it, so that's how much meat per day, math wiz? - Eh. 5 1/3 lbs per day I think.

I had never seen a bull being slaughtered before, and hadn't really wished for it, but man was it interesting to see. They made it look so easy, keeping the bull calm up until the slaughtering bolt went into its brain. Then they all worked together to saw and cut the carcass down into pieces. Holy shit so much blood. Bob explained every part of the process and what kind of cut you could get from everything. I helped with putting the pieces in boxes or vacuum seal it in plastic. Though a lot of work remained, mincing and cutting larger pieces into smaller, everything was boxed away in three hours.

Cat went to the house to cook dinner while Bob and I scrubbed down the room and all equipment. When we joined her in the house I was told that I had the entire upper floor for me. Cat and Bob only really used the lower floor. She had put my bags in a large bedroom. I had a quick shower, dressed nice and joined in for dinner. There I was presented with a deep fried dish called Rocky Mountain Oysters. I had never heard of it before, but it was delicious. Cat and Bob had chicken. She said she was on a diet and Bobs doctor had told him he needed to eat less red meat.

- Easy for him to say. I have price winning prime plus beef all around me. If you think I won’t join you a few times for steak you don’t know me.

It wasn't until after I had finished Cat laughed and told me that Rocky Mountain Oysters were deep fried bulls balls, from the bull we just slaughtered. Well, it tasted good! We then said goodnight and I looked forward to my first real nights sleep in three days.

It felt like no time at all had passed when Cat woke me.

- Good morning. Breakfast is about ready, so throw on some clothes and come down.

Breakfast was a bucketload of oatmeal porridge with cubed apples, almond and cinnamon.

- Eat it all up, dear. You'll need it.

And boy was she right. When Bob had said that I would have to pull my own weight, I didn't think he was literal. I didn't know there were so many things needing pushing, pulling and lifting on a farm. By lunch, steaks and mash by the way, I was exhausted. By dinner time, grilled hunk of meat with grits, I was more sore than I had ever been before. Cat didn't accept my first attempt to shower before dinner.

- You have to use cold water, otherwise you'll trap the smell of cattle in the pores.

Cold shower it was. It kind of felt good on my aching muscles, and was refreshing. That was short lived, though, because right after dinner I felt fatigue setting in and collapsed in bed for another dreamless night.

When Cat woke me the next morning I was in pain. Every part of me was in agony.

- Oh, you poor thing. I'll get you something to sooth you.

She went away and came back with a big, green tub of goo. As soon as she opened the tub the room filled with the smell of mint and eucalyptus. She took a piece of cloth, dipped it into the goo, and started to apply on my back. It wasn't like any pain relief cream I had ever felt before. It started with the same icy-hot feeling, but then it built and just kept on building until the feeling was worse than the muscle pain. Cat rubbed it in everywhere I had complained about before, and I didn't want to back out now. Once she was done I had a look at the tub. "Equine muscle pain relief" it said. It was made for horses!

- Someone smells extra fresh.

Bob quipped during breakfast. He pushed me as hard as the day before, and I never complained about sore muscles again.

The days settled into a familiar pace. Porridge, work, meat, work, meat, sleep. But the work itself was varied, with a thousand and one different things that needed to be done, and it was getting more and more bearable. Partly because I was getting better at how to do things, but partly because I was getting stronger. I had never thought of getting inside a gym, but perhaps it had been silly to wish for a growth spurt without doing anything for it. Well, it looked like it had arrived, because by the second week I needed new jeans and shoes, and my shirts, while stretchy, would soon need replacing as well. Sib handed me some old clothes that he had outgrown.

As I started to get a grip on things, learn how things work, and have the stamina to complete a day without collapsing, I started to have more time to do other things. Tom had purchased all the weapons he was trained on in the Polish army and practiced at least once a week, and he was happy to teach me how to shoot.

Sib invited me over to their house one evening. Tom and Sib had each half of the top floor as their private space and shared the downstairs. To my surprise, in one of the shared rooms was a full home gym.

- Why do you have a gym? Don't you work out enough as it is? - When workink, you do what you must. When workink out, you do what you can.

He then started to show me some of the exercises. Despite all my hard work on the farm, and doing very light exercises with Sib, I woke up sore in completely new places the day after. It became my new routine to go to Sib every second evening and do a half hour workout with him.

Tom, not wanting to be outdone, added various combat exercises. And not just kicking and boxing the sand bag in their gym. We could be loading hay in the middle of the day and he would start charging me screaming "TAKE ME DOWN!". He would usually come out on top, but some times I would get him. "Kurva! You did good." he would say.

Bob didn't have much time for things outside of work, but one day, with only a few weeks left of my stay, he took me to a small lake an hour away to fish. Usually my dad and I would go fishing in the summer in Washington, and I'm sure Bob knew that, so it felt extra special to me. Like a trip with a second father. It was a really nice day, hot enough for clothes to be optional, but not scorching. It was also nice to get out of the work clothes, put on some shorts and pretend to be a teenager on summer vacation.

We were standing in silence with our rods, and I caught a glimpse of myself in the still water. I realized that no one would recognize me. I barely did so myself, especially not after Cat had taken the hair clippers and given me a tight buzz. I had been so caught up in everything that I'd seen all the small changes but somehow missed the huge transformation. How could I be this tall, broad and muscled in just two months? Bob probably guessed my thoughts when he saw me lowering my rod and staring at my reflection.

- You're a clever boy. I thought you would had it figured out by now? - What figured out? - It's the beef. We inject the calves with Monsanto Taurus. It's a genetically engineered growth hormone. Builds muscle like crazy. By the time they are slaughtered it's out of the system though. - So how....? - The bull we slaughtered for you were injected two days earlier. Enough time for it to activate fully and spread into all muscle tissue, but not enough to break down.

It was clear that this was an important talk for Bob. He wanted to come clean with what he had done and he wanted my approval. Hell, if I wanted I could probably send him to jail. I looked at him and then back at my reflection. I had never really dared to think about my dream body, but if I had it would have been the summer tanned, hard muscled body looking back at me from the lake. This evening I will practice choke holds with Tom. What else can I wish for? Straight A:s and a million dollars? There was only really one answer I could give him.

- Moo.

We were done with all the good byes, at least so I thought. Just as I was about to walk to the bus, Bob handed me an envelope full of money.

- Whaa... What is that for? - Two and a half months of hard work. You've earned every dime. - Should I really carry this much? - You still don't get it, do you? No one will fuck with you.

He brings me in for a hug.

- Anyway, you need to buy clothes you can actually fit in. Do something nice for your mother also. - I will. - And tell my brother he's a weak ass. - I can't do that! - He's not gonna stop you.

Epilogue

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shinobicyrus · 6 years

Text

“Compromises”

A late entry for Phanniemay Day 23: Wardrobe. This may or may not have come from a draft I never finished back in 2016....Still counts!

“Nuh-uh. I am drawing a line at makeup.”

Maddie still held the...makeup...pen...thingy in her fingers like a surgeon’s scapel. “A little mascara can go a long way, Danielle.”

“So it can go on without me,” Dani crossed her arms mutinously. She’d have crossed her legs too but they were cold and too-smooth and weird. Not to mention her scalp was still raw from Maddie’s merciless regimen of washing, straightening, and combing Dani’s hair as though it had personally offended her. Probably submitted an article to a nerd-journal criticizing her research and called jumpsuits dumb.

“I know that look,” Maddie rolled her eyes like she was the one suffering, but still returned the makeup back into the military-style hardcase she’d pulled the thing out of and snapped it shut. Oh, thank God.

“Danny give you the same look when you put him in a dress and pulled his brain out from his roots?”

“Picture day. Fourth grade. He had a black eye and absolutely refused to let me cover it with makeup. He just wanted to stay home.”

“How’d he get the black eye?”

“Some boy probably gave it to him at school, but he never said.”

“That’s because you would have raised hell about it and tattling just makes it worse,” Danny leaned against the doorway to Dani’s room, not quite crossing into it. Either it was respect to Dani’s personal space or some old holdout instinct back when it used to be Jazz’s room and entry portended big-sister lectures.

“You know,” he said, failing to suppress a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress. Like, ever.”

“Go make out with a Thermos, jerk.” Dani fussed with the hem of her dress. “I look stupid.”

“You look lovely, Danielle,” Maddie nudged a stray bang away from Dani’s face. She always did that, without fail: used Dani’s full name every single time. “Although I wish you’d waited for me instead of trying to shave your legs yourself.”

“I think the Fenton band-aids really bring the whole outfit together,” Danny said, because of course he got to wear a nice, comfortable black suit and a tie that matched the blue of his eyes.

Dani flipped him the bird, putting a little ecto-flame at the fingertip for good measure. Hell yeah, Superpowered Eff-You, for when a normal Eff-You just wasn’t enough. “Why can't I be the one that gets the wear a suit? Everyone knows Danny can pull of a dress better than me.”

“Oh I am going to kill Tucker he swore he deleted those pictures!”

Maddie clenched her fists, gloves creaking dangerously. “Because the school board are a pack of anachronistic, narrow-minded, uptight little suburban dingbats that are lucky I limit my violence to the already dead.”

Danny and Danielle stared.

Remembering herself, Maddie put an apologetic hand on Dani’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time, sweetie. Maybe by the time it’s your prom, you can wear whatever you like.”

Dani snorted. By the time her prom came around, everyone else would already be graduated. “Yeah, great. Who would I even go with?”

Danny cleared his throat conspicuously and made a few covert, ‘no no don’t go there’ gestures to Maddie that Danielle couldn’t see.

“But you can still have fun tonight, can’t you?” Maddie tried to cheer her up. “I know it’s not ideal, but your fath...Jack stayed up all night getting your dress ready for tonight. There’s no harm in giving it a try, is there?”

Guiltily, Danielle gave Maddie her most reassuring smile. Both of them ignored her slip of the tongue. As long ago as it felt, three years wasn’t all that much time- even if it was more than half of Dani’s pathetically brief existence.

Coming to terms with their son being half-ghost was one thing, but finding out they had a clone-daughter? It wasn’t like she was a traditional surprise-child from faulty birth control or some torrid affair. She was the result of genetic piracy; the world’s most fucked-up copyright infringement.

They didn’t have to take her in. They didn’t owe her anything, and they still went through all the trouble of making a fake paper trail so she could do 'normal’ things like go to school- which Danielle was personally not a fan, but even Danny told her it was ‘important.’ It was a small price to pay for a soft bed and three square meals a day.

(Mads had been aghast that she’d had been crashing at Val’s apartment on and off for months, with Mr. Gray none the wiser. Jack had been mostly confused about Dani sleeping in a closet but equally adamant she come and stay ‘where she belonged.’)

She still couldn’t call them Mom and Dad. That was just. It was weird. Sometimes she wished she could. Then maybe she could pretend that she was...

But no. She wasn’t.

So they were Maddie and Jack. Danny existed in some weird cousin/twin/ecto-brother continuum, why would things with his/their parents be straightforward? Technically, Dani didn’t need to stay at Fenton Works. If she wanted, she could grab her backpack and fly away, completely drop off the grid again. She had the power. It had been more than a temptation, once or twice.

She stayed. They experimented and improvised and somehow invented a new species of family that had never existed before. It got bumpy. Sometimes there were fights. Jazz, away at Yale but always a phone call away, reminded her constantly that relationships weren’t about winning fights. You had to compromise.

So Dani went to school, but stipulated permission to sleep over at Val’s, sometimes. They let her patrol with Danny, but only after homework. She let Maddie pretty her up, and Maddie didn’t push her hard about the makeup. Jack stayed up all night adjusting one of Jazz’s old dresses- the least Dani could do was wear it. Not like she had a closet full of other options.

(Sam and Val had offered to take her shopping. The idea of Val watching her try on dresses...)

Danielle shook her head. “No. I guess I can try it. Just for tonight.”

“That’s my girl.”

It came out so naturally; Danielle flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

With her door open into the hall, the sound of the front door opening carried upstairs, a voice familiar but muffled through floorboards calling out.

“That must be Tuck,” Danny said. “See you downstairs, I owe him a punch in the arm.”

“I should get down there too,” Maddie said after Danny had left. “I promised Tucker’s mother pictures of the boys together in their suits. You come down when you’re ready, okay sweetie.”

“Kay.”

Smiling down at her ruefully, Maddie cupped Danielle’s face and planted a quick peck on her forehead. (The first time she’d tried to do that, Dani had panicked and Maddie had almost fallen face-first into the floor through her intangible head. Progress!)

After she left, Danielle sighed and smoothed down the dress as if it would improve things...and felt two weird bumps in the fabric around waist-high.

“Huh?” Patting herself down, Dani found a pair of hidden pockets woven seamlessly into the dress. Digging around this new discovery she found...a pack of sour candies labeled in marker with Jack’s sloppy handwriting: ‘Fenton Emergency Snacks!’

“Oh sweet! Pocket Candy!” It took every ounce of willpower not to tear into them right then and there, but she knew she’d definitely be needing them later in the night. Instead, she rifled around her room trying to remember where she left her phone- hidden in the folds of her Star Wars blanket, of course- and experimentally put it into her new kickass Jack-Pockets.

It slid in perfectly. Oh hell yes.

Normally Danielle shopped in the men’s section because the sizes made sense and the pockets were real, but she never considered going to Jack to get slightly girlier clothes altered after she got them. Not like dresses or anything, but Sam wore some pretty kickass skirts that Danielle was totally looking at purely for fashion tips and no other reason. She could always try that.

Her own reflection flashed her the corner of her eye, a swish of blue in the full-length mirror.

The dress wasn’t all that bad, really. Jack had done a great job. Knee-length, the same shade of blue as Maddie’s jumpsuit- which as it turned out matched Dani’s eyes pretty well.

Her legs still itched like they were covered in cobwebs, feeling every miniscule little shift in the air, or when the hem of the dress brushed against her pale skin, cut smooth and dotted with bright greens and oranges.

Yeah...the Fenton bandaids definitely were not flattering.

Playing with her phone reminded her she still had a promise to keep. Pulling up the camera function, she stepped back, sized up the image of herself in the mirror, and took the picture. Deleted it, tried again by sticking out her tongue and making her eyes glow bitter, ghosty green.

‘If you think this is bad, imagine if I’d let the Madd-Scientist break out the mascara’

Aaaand...send.

The response pinged back in less than twenty seconds.

JAZZ: You look adorable. I hear Red and Blue go great together ;)

Dani typed back, Quiet you, and pocketed (yeeessss) her phone back into her dress before Jazz text jedi mind-tricked her to talk about feelings. Girl is freaky, sometimes. Below her feet, the telltale sounds of Danny-Tucker bickering soaked up through the creaky floorboards.

...welp, she was going to have to face the music eventually, right?

The house-rule against floating still couldn’t stop her from hopping downstairs two at a time, feet thumping loudly.

Danny and Tucker were in the living room, arms around each other while Maddie and Jack were taking photos. Maddie was taking a few with Tucker’s phone while Jack was snapping pictures with an blocky, black camera that looked positively ancient.

“Does that thing use film?” Danielle said incredulously. “Where do you even get that developed.”

“We develop our own film!” Jack boasted. “The patented Fenton Emulsion(TM) not only lets us take cherished family memories, but also catalogue any lurking, invisible ghosts that might be photobombing!”

Before Dani could give that its proper response, Tucker gasped loudly and dramatically. “Oh. My. God. Danielle?! What happened to you?”

“Ha-ha so funny I’m in a dress wow I’m so glad we got to share this moment together and bond closer as friends.”

“You’re in a dress!” Tucker ignored her, hell-bent on milking this for all it was worth. Running to her like a distressed parent, he shook her shoulders. “Who did this to you Dani? It’s okay, you can tell me, I’m here for you.”

“This is because I told Danny about your embarassing picture stash, isn’t it?”

“There’s a stash?!”

“Oops.”

“It actually looks good on you,” Tucker tapped his chin, pouting the thoughtful moue of a guy who spent a lot time designing his MMO characters’ outfits. “I think the bandaids-”

“Already made that joke,” Danny piped up.

“Dammit,” Tucker muttered, then remembered who else was in the room. “Uh...I mean ‘oh gosh darnit.’”

Maddie rolled her eyes. “Oh please, as if all three of you don’t swear like a pack of sailors on shore leave.”

“Darn right,” Danielle grinned at Tucker. “You don’t look half bad, Tuck.” She reached up and flicked the beret-red bow tie around his neck. “Look at you all snazzy.”

He did actually look pretty dang handsome, Dani had to admit. The striped shirt and the bow tie was a bit of a 90s- maybe it was an old suit of his Dad’s- but he filled out pretty well. Tuck may not have been going to the dance with a date, but Dani was willing to bet money that he’d get a couple of offers when they all got there.

“I thought we were supposed to be snazzy together though!” Tucker said. “We had a plan!”

“School board nixed it. No gals in snazzy suits, the world isn’t ready.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I think you look beautiful.”

The complete, utter frankness he said it made Danielle’s cheeks redden. “I- Tuck...I-”

“Not as pretty as Danny if he was wearing it but-”

“Tucker I have invisibility powers and a long, long memory.” Danny warned him.

“Well Danny can’t have this dress it’s awesome and mine, check it:” She pulled out her phone and candy from its pockets.

“Hey!” Jack exclaimed. “You found the emergency snacks!”

“I did and it was awesome,” shuffling on uncertain feet, Danielle willed herself to cross the living room and threw her arms around him. He was still so big- her face was buried in his stomach and she could barely get his arms around him, and when he hugged her back it felt like being enclosed, his arms were so wide.

(the ghost of a stolen childhood memory, Danny small and at an age before black eyes at school, when his dad was the smartest, strongest guy in the world and nothing bad could happen when you were in those arms)

“Thanks, Jack. You made dresses cool.”

“Yes! Hear that, Maddie? I’m cooool.”

“Not what I said but I’ll let you have it.”

“The coolest, hun.” Maddie agreed, with the telltale sound of a shuttering camera. “And thank you for the new wallpaper.”

“Does this mean we’re finally done with the pictures?” Danny asked.

“I suppose it makes sense to wait until the girls get here.” Maddie allowed.

“Why are they the ones picking us up again?” Tucker piped in. “Like, isn’t it traditional for the guys to be picking up the girls?”

“Not when Sam sprung for a luxury party-limo.”

Tucker accepted this without hestiation. “Ha, take that gender norms.”

Danielle fidgeted with the blue sash tied around her wait. “Did...uh...did they say when they were going to be here?”

The doorbell of course chose at that moment to chime; Danielle almost jump-floated to the ceiling.

Danny grinned at her smugly. “She might have mentioned it, yeah.”

Asshole. He gave their face a bad name.

"Oh fine, I’ll get it,” Tucker threw up his arms, muttering to himself all the way. “Not even my house but sure.”

Danny furtively adjusted his tie and smoothed his hands down his suit-jacket. Danielle failed to ignore the almost identical mannerism she’d used when double-checking her dress.

God, they were dorks.

They couldn’t see anything from the doorway, just Tucker standing in the hall and leaning in to hug someone. Stepping aside like a bowing gentlemen, he held open the door and-

And.

Well, damn.

“Oh Sam, you look wonderful,” Maddie gushed. “She looks lovely, doesn’t she Danny?”

It wasn’t as dark as Danielle guessed. The gown was a deep, smokey violet from the waist down; the two halves of a black bodice laced together in an intricate filigree that left just a sliver of suggestion of skin beneath a sheer, black fabric that also covered her bare, strapless shoulders like a mourning shawl.

“Blugh,” was the limit of the words that Danny could manage.

“That good, huh?” Sam’s purple lips quirked. The mascara shadowing her eye sockets made the matching violet of her eyes that much more striking.

“Don’t forget to exhale, Danny,” Dani suggested in a sotto whisper.

A familiar voice carried through the door. “Okay, the driver said he’s fine with waiting while we take some pictures. My dad made me promise to take about three million pictures of us all before we- oh.”

Valerie stood in the living room’s threshold, phone half-raised but completely forgotten in her hand.

She was wearing a ruby red dress that flowed smoothly over her curves, flaring just above her knees and terminating in an upside down ‘V’ at her collarbone that tied subtly around her neck, leaving the sweep of her shoulders bare. The muscles of her arms stood out, firm and corded.

Dani realized that Valerie was staring at her. This fact alone made her ten thousand times more aware that her legs were naked and bare and itching with phantom prickles oh God the band-aids why did she think it was a good idea to try shaving the night of-

“Uh. Hi.” Valerie cut through the screaming white noise filling her head.

“Blugh.” Danielle responded. Tucker gave her a thumbs-up. In the corner of her eye, she saw Danny fumble tying a purple corsage around Sam’s slender wrist.

“You look amazing,” Valerie told her. Dani found the movements needed for her full, red lips to make those words fascinating.

Her throat felt unbelievable dry.

“It’s the band-aids!” Danielle blurted. “Really brings the whole outfit together!”

Valerie blinked, momentarily confused. Then she looked down.

“Oh my God,” she laughed, hand flying to her mouth. “What did you do to yourself?”

“Mistakes were made.” Danielle admitted. “I have traced them back to the decision to wear a dress.”

“Doesn’t look like a mistake from where I’m standing.” Valerie smiled at her, which was all the permission Dani’s guts needed to start doing backflips in her belly. “And you can look forward to taking it off at the end of the night-”

She froze in mute horror the second the words left her mouth.

Danny and Sam’s heads swiveled, first to Valerie, then to Danielle, finally swinging around to Maddie, whose face had gone unreadably blank.

Tucker had the manic look of a man who had been given a wonderful, wonderful gift.

“I swear,” Valerie said slowly. “I did not mean it to sound like that.”

“Make it sound like what?” Jack asked, genuinely confused.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Maddie told him.

The room was very quiet. Danielle slowly reached into her pockets and pulled out her emergency snacks. She tore open the packet and offered it to Valerie. “Topic change?”

“Please.” Desperately snatching the candy like a woman being carefully studied by a mother with access to high-powered weaponry, Valerie chewed through a handful of candies before realizing: “Wait...how does your dress have pockets?”

“Oh that was me!” Jack boasted. “Sewing isn’t that much harder than jumpsuit maintenance! I used to make all of Danny’s Halloween Costumes before he got too “cool” for it.”

Somehow, this quickly jumped into Sam insisting on seeing pictures of Danny dressed as an Astronaut or one of the Ghost Busters, which seamlessly steered back them standing all together while Maddie and Jack took more pictures; Danny with one arm around Sam’s waist and the other linked with Tucker’s, Valerie hugging Danielle from behind and resting her chin on Dani’s shoulder to fit both of them in frame.

By some miracle consensus, no one said anything about Valerie’s hilariously and unfortunately-worded slip-up.

All through the photos, and even as Valerie held her hand and walked with her out the door, Danielle felt at the pocket at her waist with her free hand, checking to make sure the Fenton Emergency Snacks were still there.

Yeah she really owed Jack big time, now.

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blightarts · 6 years

Text

POKÉMON SUMMER VERSION CHAPTER 7: IT’S BEEN A WHILE

Previous Chapter: Our First Step

Next Chapter: Our Second Badge

Disclaimer: Pokémon is a property of Game Freak and Nintendo, while Endless Summer is a property of Pixelberry. I do not claim any rights here.

Author’s Note: If the “Keep reading” doesn’t work, go here for the full post.

@princesstopgun, @mechaspirit, @queenaryn, @kaitloyalist, @choicesmarvel, @sceptilemasterr, @hey-its-vy, @skyila, @choicesyouplayandmore, @choicesaholic, @caroonfire, @roseblake, @choices-herald, @jakemckenzietrash, @xo-endlessmayhem-xo, @abhirio, @diego-vii, @izzycheeese

On the path to Orderve City, the three kids, Taari, Kaitlyn and Reginald, trek through Metropeal Forest while also training their Pokémon. During their travels, their respective Pokémon manage to evolve; Taari’s Turtwig evolved in to a Grotle; Kaitlyn’s Piplup evolved into a Prinplup; and Reginald’s Chimchar evolved into a Monferno.

As they near the clearing of the forest, they are greeted by a familiar voice.

Voice: It’s been a while, Taari. I am proud of your accomplishments in Metropeal City.

Taari recognizes the voice and immediately turns to direction where it came from. Kaitlyn and Reginald followed his gaze. Their eyes widen as they see the elyyshar of Elyys’tel, Varyyn, seated on a tree branch. The king drops down to properly greet the kids.

Taari rushes towards him and gives him a tight embrace.

Taari: Varyyn!

Varyyn: I’ve heard of your success over my dear, Diego. Excellent work, all of you.

Kaitlyn: Thank you, Mister Varyyn.

Reginald: It was a difficult struggle, but we managed to succeed.

Varyyn turns to Kaitlyn and Reginald.

Varyyn: Ah, Kaitlyn, Reginald, you two have grown quite well.

Taari tilts his head in confusion and drops the embrace.

Taari: You know Kaitlyn?

Varyyn: Of course. After all, she’s—

Before Varyyn could finish, Kaitlyn motions him to keep quiet. He stays silent for a moment and smiles.

Varyyn: Ah, yes. Your parents told me that they will be meeting you in Orderve City.

Kaitlyn: Yes!

Taari: Her parents?

Taari turns towards Kaitlyn.

Taari: Should I know your parents?

Varyyn: You have nothing to worry about for now, Taari.

Varyyn calls out his partner Pokémon, Sceptile

Varyyn: How about we should have a Pokémon battle to see how much you’ve learn after your fight against Diego?

Taari jumps for joy and calls out T’kal.

Taari: Yes, please!

Varyyn smirks.

Varyyn: Why not make this a little more interesting? If you beat my Sceptile right now, I could give you your second badge.

Taari: Deal!

Taari and Varyyn soon create some distance between each other. Afterwards, Reginald and Kaitlyn stand between them.

Reginald: Let the battle… BEGIN!

Taari: Alright, T’kal, use Fi—

Before Taari could finish, Varyyn swings his head, revealing a specially-designed hair tie. Attached to the hair tie is a Mega Stone. Taari is thrown by surprise.

Taari: A MEGA STONE?!

Reginald: Idiot! Did you forget that all La Huerta Gym Leaders have Mega Stones?!

Varyyn taps on his Mega Stone and begins chanting.

Varyyn: Deep within the trees of Elyys’tel, I call upon the great beast… Sceptile, MEGA EVOLVE!

Sceptile glows and begins to undergo Mega Evolution.

Varyyn: Now, we shall begin the battle, Taari.

Taari steps back for a moment after witnessing Sceptile’s Mega Evolution. But he then steps up.

Taari: Let’s do this!

Music: Kanto Gym Battle (HGSS)

Taari immediately goes for the offense.

Taari: We’re not going to let Mega Evolution intimidate use. If Reginald can beat Mister Diego’s Mega Lopunny without Mega Evolution, then we can too, right, T’kal?!

T’kal: Rar!!

Taari: That’s the spirit! Now, use Flare Blitz!

T’kal begins to surround himself with flames of very high temperature. Afterwards, he charges towards Mega Sceptile. Varyyn doesn’t say anything to let his Pokémon avoid T’kal’s attack. Eventually, T’kal tackles Mega Sceptile and the latter staggers backwards, but quickly stands back up as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, T’kal staggers due to recoil damage. Taari is surprised by the outcome.

Taari: Wha… WHAT?! I thought Grass-types are supposed to be weak to Fire-types.

Varyyn: You are correct, Taari. But you may not know that Mega Sceptile is part-Dragon-type. It negates the super-effective Fire-type attacks are used against Grass-types.

Taari: EH?!?!

Varyyn: Now, it’s our turn. Sceptile, use Focus Punch!

Mega Sceptile clenches his fist and starts to focus. As his fist starts to glow, he charges towards T’kal. Meanwhile, T’kal stands up and is about to avoid the attack but he was too late. Mega Sceptile was too fast and his Focus Punch connects. The attack delivers massive amounts of damage to T’kal and sends him flying towards a tree. T’kal crashes at the tree and faints. Taari is left astonished.

Reginald: T’kal is unable to battle. Varyyn and his Mega Sceptile wins!

After a few minutes, T’kal is healed and is returned to his pokéball. Sceptile reverts to its original form and is returned to his pokéball as well. The four regroups.

Varyyn: You understand now, Taari? The true power of Mega Evolution and the bonds between a Pokémon and its trainer?

Taari: I managed to get a scope of it, but I understand it a little more now.

Varyyn: Good. There’s still more for you to learn. If you’re ready, then feel free to come back to Elyys’tel city and challenge me again.

Taari: Will do!

Varyyn departs and says his goodbye to the children. Afterwards, the children reach the clearing of Metropeal Forest and finally arrive at Orderve City. Orderve City is a city known for its annual Pokélympics event and also great food. Its most prized restaurant is the Orderve Gym, led by the legendary Raj Bhandarkar. As the children are making they’re way to the Orderve Gym, Reginald accidently bumps into a girl.

Reginald: Oh, I apologize. I didn’t mean to. I was… occupied with a thought.

Girl: That’s fine.

For a moment, Reginald becomes intimidated by the girl’s glance and he breaks eye contact. His vision lands on the girl’s bag, which has the initials, “LHP” written on it.

Girl: Well, I’ll be going now.

Reginald: …Yeah.

Kaitlyn: Reginald, you’re lagging behind!

Reginald: Oh, sorry!

Reginald rejoins the group and they make their way to the Orderve Gym. As they arrive, they marvel at the sight of it.

Taari: Wow! It’s so awesome! You can even smell the food from here!

Reginald: The idea of mixing a Gym and a restaurant is brilliant. Customers can experience great food and entertaining gym battles all in one reasonable price.

Kaitlyn: Come on! We should go in. It’s time for you guys to meet them.

Taari: Meet who?

Kaitlyn: My parents.

As if on cue, the doors of the gym slide open and three people walk outside. Kaitlyn turns around and beams in delight. On the other hand, Taari and Reginald are stunned. The three people…

…just so happens to be Jake McKenzie, his wife, Taylor McKenzie (F!MC), and their close friend, Quinn Kelly.

Kaitlyn rushes towards Jake and Taylor. The two take notice of her and immediately smile.

Kaitlyn: Mom! Dad!

Jake: Well, if it isn’t my li’l Marshmallow!

Taylor: Oh, Kaitlyn! You’re here!

The three embraced after not seeing each other for a few days. Reginald approaches the three.

Reginald: It’s good finally meeting you Mister and Missus McKenzie.

Jake: Don’t call us that, Malfoy Jr. And is that you, li’l Blueberry?

Jake, Taylor and Quinn turn towards Taari, who is still stunned.

Taari: Wait! Kaitlyn… your parents…

Kaitlyn: Mhm!

Taari: But that doesn’t make sense! Miss Taylor got back here five years ago. How are so old by now if you’re her child?!

Kaitlyn: It’s because I was adopted when I was seven.

Taari: …Yeah. That makes more sense.

After regaining his composure, Taari joins the group.

Quinn: So, I heard you guys finally got your first badge. That’s great! I’m so proud of you!

Taari: Hehe. Thanks.

Reginald: Thank you.

Kaitlyn: I appreciate it.

Jake: So, my li’l Marshmallow told me that you guys will be battling Pineapple Express?

Reginald: We will. Afterwards, we’ll head on over to the Pokélympics Stadium and sign up for the event. Then, after that, Kaitlyn will be joining her second contest.

Taylor: Sounds like a great plan. We’ll be staying around Orderve City until Kaitlyn’s second contest is over.

Kaitlyn: Yay!

Quinn: Besides, the La Huerta League will be managing this year’s Pokélympics event. It’s going to be a big reunion for all of us.

Reginald: So, that means my father is coming, huh?

While everyone smiles at the exciting new, Reginald clenches his fist, but quickly loosens it. He pretends to smile so that others won’t notice his pain. Taari looks around to look for someone missing within the group, Quinn’s husband, Tyler Kelly (M!MC)

Taari: Hey… Where’s Mister Tyler?

At the mention of his twin brother’s name, Taylor goes on a tantrum.

Taylor: DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT NAME!!

The children flinch at Taylor’s tantrum. Jake tries to calm her down, while Quinn covers her mouth and breaks into tears. Curious, scared and worried, Taari steps up.

Taari: Wh… Why? What happened to him? What did he do?

Jake manages to calm Taylor and proceeds to comfort Quinn. After regaining her calm, Taylor answers Taari’s questions.

Taylor: Tyler… has been missing for six months now. Ever since after… that incident… he hasn’t been the same. One day, he left us a note, telling us to not look for him or contact him. He said that he’s going to find out exactly what’s going on; why Pokémon are becoming corrupted; how the both of us ended up back in La Huerta; where exactly did Dialga and Palkia go off to.

Reginald: Incident? What incident?

Jake: I think that’s enough questions for now, you two.

Taari looks at Jake comforting Quinn, who is still heartbroken over the loss of her husband.

Taari: I… I’m sorry…

Reginald: Me too…

Quinn: Don’t be.

Quinn wipes of her tears and looks at Taari.

Quinn: You didn’t know. I’m sorry that we did not tell you. It was only between me, Taylor, Jake and Kaitlyn. I didn’t want the others to worry about my dear Tyler.

Taylor approaches Quinn to comfort her too.

Taylor: Come on, Quinn. Let’s head back to your room.

Taylor and Quinn start to head back to Centaurus Resort. Jake turns to the children.

Jake: Sorry you kids have to see that. Once you’re done scoping the Gym, head to the Centaurus Resort just beside the it. We’ve already reserved a room for you three.

Kaitlyn: Thanks, Dad. Take care of auntie Quinn.

Jake: We will, li’l Marshmallow.

As the three adults leave, the three kids enter the gym. They are soon greeted by the receptionist.

Receptionist: Welcome to the Orderve Gym. You must be trainers. I’m sorry but Chef Bhandarkar just finished his last battle for today.

Reginald: That’s fine. We’re just here to scope the gym.

Receptionist: Ah, I see. In that case, come with me. We will meet with Chef Bhandarkar now.

The receptionist escorts the three kids to the kitchen. As they arrive, they are immediately greeted by the head chef, Raj.

Raj: Hello, my little dudes and dudette!

Taari: Hey, Mister Raj!

Kaitlyn: Mmm! Those are some good-smelling food!

Reginald: Sorry if we’re barging in.

Raj: No problem, li’l Reggie. I was expecting you three anyway. Here…

Raj grabs a bag filled with take-out food and hands it to Kaitlyn.

Raj: Taylor said that you guys will be visiting so I made those for your dinner, free of charge.

Kaitlyn: Wow!

Taari: For free? Really?

Raj nods.

Reginald: Thank you, Chef Raj.

The three children said their goodbyes to Raj and they head to their room in the Centaurus Resort. Meanwhile, on the mountains of La Huerta, Tyler walks on a snowy path, looking for cabins to spend the night.

After spending the night, Taari, Kaitlyn and Reginald stand in front of the Orderve Gym to obtain their second badge and their second step towards the La Huerta League.

Will Raj be just as challenging as Diego? Or will he be more? FIND OUT ON CHAPTER 8 OF POKÉMON SUMMER VERSION!

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #endless summer #quinn kelly #quinn erin kelly #jake mckenzie #jake x mc #es mc #taari #reginald rourke #raj bhandarkar #pokemon x endless summer #crossover fanfic

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youvebeenblessed · 6 years

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Ok I have no idea where I'm going with this and it has no title yet but I'm going with Reed for now

This is born out some discord talk about how Nick and John have a complicated relationship built around planes and anger. Will be many more parts and proper content warnings etc when more is written. This is just a slooooow intro to the history of my two favourite boys. Only warning right now is some strong language and some strong feelings about John Seed.

The Seed Family had rolled into town on a dull Tuesday afternoon about 7 years ago, 3 brothers who quietly bought up the big ranch south west of Fall’s End.

The place had been vacant for the last few years, more people trying to leave the valley than settle down in it. At first, no one noticed the family much past them turning up in town to enquire about buying the ranch and the land surrounding it. Most of the townsfolk wondered why 3 youngish men needed such a big space, wondered at the experience any of them had when it came to working a ranch. Wondered where they got the cash. Back then, there had been a subtle southern lull in their voices, not that any of them spoke much. The youngest seemed the most talkative, a glint in his eye, soft buttery words, and brilliantly white teeth as he negotiated the price. He was in his mid twenties, a well-groomed dark stubble across his sharp jaw that made him stand out from the regular, rugged Montana men that had lived in Holland Valley all their lives. The other two brothers stood back, older than their sibling by a good few years. One stood rigid, shoulders square, feet apart, and hands clasped in a way that would have given him away as a military man if it weren’t for the regulation jacket and the dog tags hanging from his neck. His gaze rested on the imaginary horizon, as though still on duty, still on patrol, still waiting for that enemy to come, seeing everything and looking at nothing. If his presence was unnerving, it was nothing compared to the middle brother, all wide eyes and piercing stare covered by bizarre yellow glasses. He radiated a stillness that seemed altogether unnatural, and he smiled often as the youngest spoke. John it transpired, discussed the terms of the ranch’s purchase.

“...you fellas aren’t from round here, are you?” The man studied John quietly as he spoke. He didn’t look in the least familiar, and he couldn’t see a trace of any of the families that lived in the valley in the features of these brothers’ faces. You didn’t just happen across Holland Valley, you came because you had some distant relative there, or you were born there. You knew it was there. These 3 men had turned up out of nowhere, asking questions about the town and the county like they had read about it in some travel guide and were looking to see the sights. Yet somehow they knew about the ranch, and even more strangely, wanted to buy it. The place hadn’t been a profitable business for the last two decades, and the damn place just wouldn’t sell for love nor money. John simply smiled wider at the man, letting out a laugh before continuing.

“Is it that obvious?” His smile faded a little after he spoke, getting no reaction from the man behind the desk. The silence lingered in the air like stale smoke in a dive bar, hinting at something on edge beneath the niceties. John cleared his throat like he was about to speak again when the man cut him off.

“Look, I only ask because Hope County might not be the place for you boys. Ranch has seen better days, and ain’t really worth all that much to anyone who ain’t got the wherewithal to turn it around. No offense, but you don’t seem the type to be ranch hands,” He notably glanced at John’s impeccable dress shirt, pausing before continuing, “and there ain’t many folk left in town looking for work these days. Maybe you’d be better off heading to Missoula.” John laughed again, a dissatisfied sounding huff, and placed his hands down on the desk in front of him, leaning heavily, shoulders rounded, and moved closer to the man behind it. He was about to speak again when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The odd looking brother with the yellow glasses motioned with his head for John to move over and stood next to him in front of the desk, clasping his hands behind his back. He stood motionless, staring at the face of the man John had been speaking with as though sifting through his thoughts, the edges of his mouth curving into a slight smile. Up close, he seemed even more oppressive, and that unwavering stare seemed to pierce right through him. The man tried to hide his involuntary shudder. Finally, the other brother spoke.

“Hope County will be a new home for us. We will work the land as needed. We will build a new life here. We will welcome you as neighbour, help build a community.” He paused, nodding to his brother John once more who promptly withdrew three crisp stacks of 50 dollar bills from his back pocket, somehow unaffected by their time in his jeans. The man reckoned there was at least 15 grand on the table and he contemplated the stacks neatly place in front of him before looking back up at the brothers. The eldest hadn’t moved from his spot near the door, except now he was watching the man carefully, peering between his brothers’ shoulders. The man looked between them all, saying nothing. John inhaled a long quiet breath in, spreading his face back into that winning smile.

“A deposit. We can transfer the rest of the funds to you today, if it suits you. We’d really like that ranch.” The man just kept looking. They all three of them had the same eyes, those eyes that bored their way through him, made him feel like a deer caught in the headlights. He seemed to think it over, unsure of these strange newcomers so insistent on a beat up old ranch miles from anything. He would understand them buying property in town, if he understood them coming here at all. The youngest certainly had the air of a city dweller about him. The brief glance he had had as John had rested his hands on the table had told him he hadn’t worked a day’s labour in his life, though he noticed the odd scar on the back of his wrists, peeking out the edge of his sleeves. Maybe from a childhood spent playing in trees and scrambling through the brush back down in the south. He thought he could glimpse the lines of what might be a tattoo on his arms, but the long sleeved of his shirt revealed little. But damn if he hadn’t been trying to shift that cursed ranch for years, and the money before him was a welcome offer. Without another word, he opened his desk drawer, pulling out a key from the few he had littered in there. He paused, catching sight of the old pistol he kept in there, briefly wondering why it struck him, but pushed the drawer shut again, holding the key out to them.

“...Welcome to Holland Valley, fellas.”

News of the newcomers had spread in Fall’s End pretty quickly. Nothing more than that the old ranch had been bought up by a family of brothers who seemed friendly enough. No one had seen them in town yet, which seemed surprising since it was the only place to get supplies for miles. Mary May had been working behind the bar, a young girl just barely eighteen, fresh faced and freckled, just like her Daddy, chatting with Nick Rye as she flipped the bottle cap off another beer and handed it to him, mentioning in passing that he had a new neighbour.

“The old ranch, huh?” Nick had said, eyebrows raising as he took a swig of the cold beer. “It’ll be good to have more folks around on the land that way. They ranchers?” He asked Mary May. She shrugged, drying off glasses with a dish towel.

“Not much anyone knows about them. Supposedly nice enough.”

“I oughtta swing by, introduce myself. See if they need a hand. Offer ‘em a tour of the valley courtesy of Nick Rye and his future sons.” Mary May snorted, shaking her head.

“Yeah, that’ll be a long time coming, Nick.” Nick shook his head at her, gulping down more beer and letting out a loud burp.

“I’m a fucking catch, Mary May.”

Nick decided to drive up the following afternoon, excited at the chance of having new neighbours after so many years. The ranch had belonged to a friend of his Daddy’s, and the pair had spent almost every night drinking beers together, blaring rock music on the porch as they took shots at passing birds. Nick had spent almost every summer growing up helping with the cattle before he was old enough to learn to fly, and join his Daddy’s business. The man had been like an uncle to Nick, and it broke his heart to watch the place fall into disrepair, cows long gone, and his Dad’s buddy dead. It’d be nice to see some new blood there. Nick had heard the brothers were around his age, and he had grown sick of hanging out with Sharky and Hurk all the time. They were great and all, but they had known each other since they were babies, and Nick could only talk about huntin’ puss for so long.

He pulled up in front of the old house, scanning around for any sign of movement. There were big black cases everywhere, but the house was deathly still, and looked like it hadn’t even been touched yet. “...hello? Anyone home?” he called out his open window. There was no answer, no twitch of the curtains, no sound at all. He opened the door and got out his car, stepping forward a few steps towards the door. “Name’s Nick. Nick Rye. I live just down the road a ways, down at the airstrip.” He waited, looking around again at nothing. Seemed odd to him there would be no one there only a few days after they had bought the place, and with shit everywhere. Deciding they might have headed off to town to get supplies or something, Nick fished out a scrap of paper and a pen from his glove box, scrawling a note that read: “Hey neighbour, came to introduce myself but missed you. Let me know if you need anything, I’m down at the airstrip. - Nick Rye”. The old mailbox was long gone, knocked over one night when he and Sharky had taken a little joy ride up round the ranch after a night of heavy drinking at the Spread Eagle, so he left the note on the porch, pinning it down with a rock and heading home. Maybe he’d see them at the bar.

Jacob was the one who found the note, kicking the rock off with his boot and scooping it up roughly. He read it over saying nothing, heading over to Joseph coming up the stairs to the house and pinning it against his chest with his hand. The brothers had returned to Atlanta, packing up things from the church, moving families out that would follow them north, to Hope County, to Joseph’s promised land. John had been battling with the local law enforcement, using his connections built as an attorney to sway things in the family favour. They couldn’t prove anything, he whispered, smiling that sharp smile all teeth edge and never reaching his eyes. Circumstantial evidence at best. The family would move on quietly, and the missing man searched for long after they left. A few loyal followers had made the return trip with them, ready to help with the ranch, sleeping on the dusty floor like it was the softest bed.

Joseph was shaken from his reverie by his brother, taking the note from him and reading it through with a blank expression on his face. “They have welcomed us already. This is a good place. These are good people. Just as God told me, as he planned for us.” Jacob said nothing to this, looking at John coming up the steps behind Joseph. He stopped when he noticed his brothers looking at him.

“...what? What is it?” He said, looking between his brothers. Joseph passed John the note, Jacob filling him in.

“We missed the welcome wagon.”

Nick told Mary May about his venture up to the house that night in the Spread Eagle. “Thought they might have called, or dropped by or something. You seen ‘em in here yet?” Mary May shook her head.

“No one’s seen ‘em yet. Maybe they’ve been busy. Maybe they don’t drink.” Mary May smirked, watching Nick shake his head drinking his beer and almost spilling it down himself.

“Nobody doesn’t fuckin’ drink, Mary.” he said, sitting his beer down and wiping the drips that had snaked their way down his beard. “Maybe they’re moving their stuff in. Mac said they sounded like they were from the south. Maybe they had to drive back.” Mary shrugged.

“Well, they’ll be in town sooner or later. Ain’t nobody patching that place up without supplies, and ain’t nothing that way for miles and miles and miles and miles and--” she chuckled as Nick cut her off.

“Alright, city girl, I get it, you love the big bright lights of Fall’s End.”

“Well you drag your ass up here every night in my bar, you don’t see me coming to you.”

Mary May was wrong, no one saw the family in town for the first two weeks after they had moved in, though there were rumours saying there were strange people all dressed in white hanging about the ranch, moving and fixing, and patching things up. No one had seen the strange people in town, and most folk just took it for people looking to stir the pot in the bar of an evening. Truth be told, everyone was itching to meet them. Who the hell moved in to Holland Valley?

It was the Sunday three weeks after the ranch had been bought up that the brothers finally appeared in Fall’s End. Pastor Jerome had just started his sermon, welcoming the usual faces in the crowd, cracking a few jokes with people before getting into the main words of it. The church doors had quietly opened, no one paying much attention as there was a latecomer every week, nursing a hangover from one too many at the bar. It wasn’t until they had walked down a few rows of pews to be as close to the front as they could be that people began to realise it was the family there had been so many whispers about. Nick was sat reclining on a pew near the back of the church, eyes wandering to where that cute girl Kim was sat with her parents a few rows up, but the passing brothers broke his view, and he looked up at each of them as they passed, first Jacob, then Joseph and then John. The youngest did indeed seem to be about Nick’s age, maybe a few years older. The others looked like they were heading towards the later years of thirty. Nick wondered why none of them had settled yet, no women with them, and what had brought them here like a stray tumbleweed. A few people began to whisper to each other as they took a seat, Mary May turning round to catch Nick’s eye, facial expression amused and full of sparking curiosity. Pastor Jerome noticed them only from the rush of whispers they left in their path, pausing to glance at them before continuing to preach. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a new face in his congregation.

After the service had concluded, and people began to meander their way back to town, Mary May walked quickly to Nick, grabbing his arm and speaking closely in his ear. She always smelled distantly of beer and some sugar sweet perfume, and he could feel her warm breath on his neck as she spoke excitedly. “Well fuck me, if they ain’t a good looking family, Nicky.” He shook his head at her. She was always a sucker for a pretty boy. That’s what kept her turning Nick down.

“Easy there, Mary, they’re all too old for you and you don’t know a damn thing about them.”

“I know that youngest one has the finest ass in this whole damn county, and don’t you act shocked Nick Rye, I’ve heard you and Sharky cussin’ every which way since I was knee-high to a grasshopper and talking about every girl in this town like she’s a pork chop ready to get eaten up.” His shocked face at her declaration was cut short, and by the end he was grinning sheepishly. Sharky was a bad influence. He noticed that the middle brother had stopped to talk to Pastor Jerome, wide smile on his face as he spoke animatedly with him. Oddly, Jerome didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic, but he nodded patiently, and spoke every now and then between breaks in the man’s words. The other two brothers stood a little ways off, the youngest flashing a big pearly grin as he chatted with some of the townsfolk. Mary May was watching him approvingly, and he noticed a few of the other women similarly entranced, casting too-long glances at him and walking more slowly than usual. The eldest brother stood, arms crossed, between his two siblings, watching John talk but saying nothing himself. His deep red hair marked him out from his brothers, but he had those same startlingly blue eyes, his razor sharp compared to the warmth of his siblings. “Come on, we’re gonna go talk to them.” Before he knew what was happening, Mary May had dragged him over by his arm, making a beeline for the youngest brother. The group he had been talking to began to wander off as they approached him, and he turned to them with that brilliant smile never faltering. Up close, Nick felt there was an odd tension in the man’s jaw, and stiffness to his shoulders he tried to cover as he moved. Maybe he just seemed tense next to the intensity of his eldest brother. Nick looked at them both as Mary May spoke. “Hey there, you must be the new family that’s moved in up at the old ranch. We wondered when we might see you in town.” John watched her intently, giving her all his attention with soft eyes never leaving hers. Nick could see a faint flush rising on Mary May’s neck as she spoke, swallowing slightly after her words, but never faltering. “I’m Mary May, I work up at my Daddy’s bar, the Spread Eagle, and this,” she tugged on Nick’s arm “is Nick Rye. He works with his Daddy at Rye & Sons not too far down the road from the ranch. Big airstrip? They help out crop dustin’, giving tours, that sort of thing.” John glanced at Nick, giving him a quick nod and turning back to Mary May.

“What a pleasure to meet you both. I’m John Seed. This,” he moved over to where his brother stood scowling and gripped both his shoulders, shaking him as best he could, “is my oldest brother Jacob, and that over there,” he nodded over to where the middle brother stood still chewing the Pastor’s ear off, “is t-- Joseph.” The stutter was almost imperceptible, and he quickly hid it behind that ever present smile. Jacob said nothing. “We are looking forward to joining the community.” John said, turning to face Nick again. Nick couldn’t work this guy out. He seemed nice enough, genuine and warm, well-dressed. Obviously well educated. He had almost completely thrown off the southern lilt in his accent, and from the shirt he was wearing, clearly had money. But there was something off. Nick shook it off as just not meeting new people often, trying not to judge the brothers, but being wary of them too. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why anyone, let alone three fairly young brothers, would move out to the sticks. John seemed like he might have been about to speak, but Nick jumped in.

“You guys ever fancy a drink, you can find us down in the Spread Eagle most nights. Best way to meet everyone in town, most folks spend their evenings there. Be nice to have some fresh faces in the place.” Mary May glowed as she looked at Nick. He could tell she was delighted at the prospect of getting this guy in her bar.

“That’s kind of you.” John said, glancing at his brother Jacob briefly. He kept his silence, but cleared his throat in a gruff way, and shifted his stance. “You said you’ve got the airstrip down the way?” John had turned to Nick again, those keen eyes locking onto him. Nick nodded. “Rye & Sons was it?” John’s voice was smooth as silk, and almost hypnotic. It was oddly soothing.

“Sure is.”

“What kind of planes do you have?” His eyes seemed to glimmer more as he asked the question, showing that same keen interest in Nick as he had speaking with Mary May, like Nick was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He almost found it endearing.

“We got Carmina, she’s an old seaplane my Grandaddy bought after he came home from the war, and she’s a thing of fuckin’ beauty. You lookin’ to hire a plane?”

“Actually, I was looking to buy one. We’ve got big plans for the ranch, and we’re hoping to have our own airstrip on the land. Once we’ve done the place up, maybe we can come by and take a look at what you have.” Nick shook his head.

“Nah, I’m afraid no can do, Carmina ain’t for sale, and our other plane is out of commission at the moment. You fellas need an airstrip, huh? What is it you guys do?” John smiled widely, stretching his arms out and laughing softly. This guy sure was a smooth talker.

“Family business, same as you.” Nick’s eye was caught by the other brother finally breaking away from Pastor Jerome and walking over to where the four were gathered. He placed a hand gently on John’s shoulder, but he flinched as though a pile of bricks had landed on him. “Joseph” John said, without looking at his brother. “These are our neighbours, Mary May and Nick Rye.” Joseph stared unblinkingly at them, smiling and speaking just as softly as his younger brother.

“Ahhh, the good samaritans.” Nick stood confused. “We appreciated your note.” The note. Nick had forgotten he left it, and it struck him as strange John hadn’t mentioned it. “I hope we can help each other in the future, Nick Rye.” This sibling creeped Nick out even more than the other two, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe the way those yellow lenses made his blue eyes muddy, all at once hidden and magnified by the glasses. They all stood, awkward in the niceties of new conversation before John broke the silence.

“Well, it has been swell getting to meet the pair of you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other from now on.” If it hadn’t been for his sickly sweet smile, one Mary May returned gladly, that would almost have sounded ominous. The three brothers headed off to where Nick could see there was a large white truck parked, waving at a few people who greeted them on the way. City boys, he thought, the damn thing was gleaming with not a dent or nick on it.

The bar was buzzing that night with talk of the new brothers. How handsome and friendly they were. Guesses at what they did, why they wanted the ranch, why they had come here of all places. Whether they had girlfriends or wives. Or boyfriends, Sharky pointed out loudly. Ain’t no need to be making assumptions. Mary May had that same flushed look on her face she had done that morning as she talked about their meeting with the youngest brother.

“There were three of them, you realise that, Mary May?” Nick couldn’t help the corners of his mouth curling to a grin before sipping his beer. That girl.

“Yeah, and any one of them could get it. I’m just saying.” “You’re a freak, Mary May.”

“You’re a dick, Nick Rye.” Nick laughed again, finishing the dregs of his beer and contemplating the road home. But his mind stuck again on these three brothers. Breezing in to town with their charm, and their money. Wanting a plane? That’s an odd one. Sure, a fair number of folk had planes in Holland Valley, but most of them used them for crop dusting, same as Nick, or for an easy means of travelling the county. Beat up old things on tiny strips of clear land that hardly counted for anything. Building a full on airstrip? For a cattle ranch? Seemed weird to Nick. And that John had been so charming, so polite, asking all the right questions, but said nothing about the note Nick left. He was thinking too much. They were just new and he was just curious. He wondered when he might meet them again.

#nick rye #john seed #I haven't written in fucking years omg

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godsheadangel · 4 years

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🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊FAR TO MANY TIMES INNOCENT LIVES ARE TAKEN FOR 👉NO JUSTIFIED REASON!!!👈

THERE ARE MANY THINGS HAPPENING IN THE WORLD🌎INCLUDING CORONAVIRUS💀

PEOPLE DYING, OUT OF WORK, HOMELESS, FILING FOR BANKRUPTCY, DIVORCING AND RACIAL DIVISION CAUSED BY THE CURRENT EVIL👹ADMINISTRATION AND SO MUCH MORE AND 👉ALL OF THESE THINGS👈ARE CAUSING GOD✝FEARING PEOPLE TOO FEEL THE MOUNTING PRESSURES OF LIFE ITSELF

🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊

YET, GODSAYS💫DURING THESE TRYING TIMES WISDOM💫MUST PREVAIL OVER ALL OTHER THOUGHTS INSIDE YOUR MINDS!

IT SHALL [SURELY BE VENGEANCE] UPON [ALL THEM THAT DO EVIL👹]AGAINST MY PEOPLE FOR IT IS SO KNOWN BY ALL WHO BELIEVE IN ME✝THAT [I DO SEE AND HEAR] ALL THAT IS SAID BY ALL LIVING I CREATED

AND IT IS THE SPIRITUALLY💫AWAKENED🌄

WORLDWIDE🌎WHO TRUST IN ME✝AND THEY SHALL CAUSE [NO TROUBLE] AFTER [UNJUSTLY KILLINGS HAPPEN] FOR SURELY ▶ONLY BAD THINGS AND MORE DEATHS💀SHALL COME OF THIS!!! THERE IS NO DOUBT [ANGER AND DISGUST SHALL RISE] IN YOUR MINDS AND RIGHTLY SO I AM HE✝ THY GOD [DO SO ACKNOWLEDGE] YET, REMEMBER A

🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊

CALM HEART❤BRINGS ABOUT A PEACEFUL MIND FOR SURELY THY FAITH✝IN ME✝ DOES [SO MATTER MOST] FOR SURELY I CREATED THE HEAVENS✝MOON, STARS, BILLIONS OF GALAXIES🌌AND PLANETS INCLUDING THE ONE CALLED EARTH🌍AND I CONTROL ALL THINGS [THE COMING AND GOINGS] OF ALL MY REAL ANGELS😇ON EARTH🌎AND ALSO [THE COMING AND GOINGS] OF ALL REAL DEMONS👹ON EARTH🌎DO SO REMEMBER

THE WORLDWIDE SPIRITUAL💫REVOLUTION IS SO [EFFECTIVE AND WINNING] THE GOOD FIGHT [AGAINST EVIL👹DOERS] WHO ARE DETERMINED TO UNDERMINE THE CHANGE IN ALL OF MANKIND

TRUST 👉THE SPIRITUAL💫WAR👈 FOR THE SOULS OF ALL LIVING IS AT STAKE FOR ALL OF ETERNITY MY REAL ANGELS ARE DOING THEIR PART 24/7 YET, [IT IS UP TO YOU] MY CREATED CHILDREN TO DO YOUR PART SO ▶KEEP YOUR EMOTIONS UNDER CONTROL ▶KEEP YOUR SPIRITUAL💫FAITH✝RISING BY PRAYING🙏AND CONSOLING EACH OTHER AND AS [SPIRITUAL💫PEOPLE LISTEN] TOO ONE ANOTHER 👉NO MATTER YOUR SKIN👈

▶COLOR◀ FOR SURELY IN THE END WHEN MY BIGSIGN✝COMETH UPON THE EARTH🌎

[TRUST YOU I DID CREATE] OF SO MANY [DIFFERENT SKIN COLORS]👉WILL CLING👈 TO EACH OTHER LIKE A TIGHT KNIT FAMILY AS YOU FIGHT TOGETHER AS ONE TO GET TO SPIRITUAL💫SAFE SPOTS WORLDWIDE 🙏FOR THE SURVIVAL OF YOUR FAMILIES🙏

TRUST ON HEAVEN ITSELF THIS IS TRUTH!!!

LISTEN TO ONE ANOTHER LISTEN CLOSELY!

~IAMHEGODTHYLIVINGSPIRITUALGOD✝

🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

REMEMBER, YE IGNORANT MY ANGELS DO AS I SAY DO!!! THEY DO NOT EVER SPEAK OR MOVE UNLESS I SPEAK IT SO!!! I AM HE GOD☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

BLESSINGS4 THE FLOYD ENTIRE FAMILY💫

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

FRIDAY MAY 29TH 2020 1100 HOURS PST

FORMER MINNEAPOLIS POLICE OFFICER DEREK CHAUVIN ARRESTED AND CHARGED WITH [THE MURDER] OF GEORGE FLOYD✝

GOD✝IS ALWAYS AND FOREVER IN CHARGE!

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

GOD💫IS REVIEWING [15] OF THE MANY✔ THINGS DONE TO US BY THE DEMONS👹 WHO HAVE WENT AGAINST HIM✝AND HIS✝ HOLY💫PLANS FOR MANY YEARS BRINGING ABOUT THE GLOBAL🌎DEADLY💀 DISEASE CORONAVIRUS💀WHICH HAS KILLED OVER 105,000 AMERICANS🇺🇸AND OVER 370,000 WORLDWIDE🌍THESE EVIL👹 BROWNSTAR DEMONS👹▶▶ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR◀◀ THEIR DEATHS💀AND TRUST OUR GOD✝HAS SO CHARGED EVERY DEATH UNTO THEM!!! IT IS,

👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇EXTREMELY IMPORTANT TO PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT [WE MESSENGERS OF HIM✝] POST OR SAY [FOR SURELY YOUR DISOBEDIENCE] GOD✝WILL SO [MARK DOWN] IN HEAVENS💫BOOK OF MANKINDS HISTORY FOR THE DAY OF JUDGEMENT [MANY] HAVE SO ALREADY BEEN JUDGED AND SENTENCED TO HELL🔥☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

THE SUPREME COURT DECISION ON [DACA] [MAY BE MOVED AGAIN] OR IT MAYBE SO [DECIDED IN LATE JUNE 2020] TRUST THAT GOD✝LISTENS 24/7 TO THE PRAYERS🙏OF HIS CHILDREN WORLDWIDE🌏WHO ARE SO PRAYING🙏FOR ALL THE DREAMERS💫AND FUTURE SEEKERS OF FREEDOM YET MUCH [DAMAGE] HAS BEEN DONE RECENTLY AND OVER THE MANY YEARS CAUSING DISTANCE BETWEEN GOD✝AND THE BROWNSTARS✔

GOD✝IS A MIGHTY GOOD GOD✝AND HE WILL ALWAYS BE SO [FOR SURELY THAT IS] WHO 👉HE TRULY IS!!! IT IS CLEAR VERY CLEAR👈

THAT MANY OF YOU [DO BELIEVE] YOU ARE OVER HIM✝HIS SON✝AND WE REAL ANGELS

[HE IS NOW] SO REVIEWING THINGS DONE AND ALSO LISTENING TO DAILY PRAYERS🙏⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

1. VIOLATED MY APARTMENT SPACE!!!✔

GIVEN A KEY🔑TO CLEAN EMPTY UNITS BY THE EVIL👹DEMON OVER THE PROPERTY THESE DEMONS👹WITHIN DAYS OF ME SO MOVING IN ENTERED AND STOLE FOOD, TOLIET PAPER AND POURED OUT COFFEE AND MY PAIN MEDICATION NEEDED FOR MY ▶BAD KNEES◀EVEN THOUGH I WALKED ALL OVER THE [CITY OF ANGELS😇] AND OTHER CITIES BLESSINGS GODS✝CHILDREN AT HIS REQUEST WITH ONLY LIMITED FUNDS ON A LIMITED SSI INCOME IT MADE MY LIFE EXTREMELY DIFFICULT EVERY TIME I WENT OUT TO BLESS MY DOOR WAS OPENED FOR YEARS AS IT IS NOW IF MY SON AND I LEAVE AT THE SAME TIME!!! THE REAL DEMONS👹 REFUSED TO ACKNOWLEDGE WHO I WAS OR WHAT I WAS DOING AT GODS✝REQUEST!!!

THEY WERE TOLD TO STOP🛑MANY TIMES 👉NOTES WERE LEFT FOR THEM TO SEE👈

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2. WALKED ACROSS HOLY💫GROUND!!!✔

💥WARNED💥 NOT TO OPEN MY DOOR AND COME IN INVITED STEALING BATH TOWELS AND IMPORTANT PAPERS WITH WRITTEN DOWN ANGEL QUEEN NAMES AND FUTURE EVENTS THAT DID COME TRUE THESE REAL DEMONS👹WERE WARNED NOT TO OPEN MY DOOR🚪AGAIN AND [WALK ACROSS] HOLY💫GROUND AS I AM THE BROTHER OF GOD✝IN HOLY💫SPIRIT TRUST GOD✝MADE ME WARN THEM DEMONS OVER AND OVER!

THE EVIL👹SHE DEMON👹WAS TOLD IT THEY DIDN'T STOP🛑REAL CANCER💀WOULD BE GIVEN!!! TRUST GOD✝DID RAISE MY HEAVENLY💫POWERFUL FIST🤜 AND THE DEMON👹HAS REAL DEADLY CANCER!!! ☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

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3. STOLE A PRICELESS FAMILY PICTURE📷

REAL DEMONS👹IN [FLESH]EAVESDROPED IN ON A CELLPHONE📳CONVERSATION I WAS HAVING WITH SOMEONE ABOUT A PICTURE OF [MY DECEASED BIG BROTHER] GIVEN TO ME OVER 28+ YEARS BY HIS WIFE MY SISTER IN LAW [AFTER HE WAS KILLED] IN A HORRIFIC ACCIDENT NEAR SONOMA ON 👉JULY 16TH 1986👈 THE PICTURE OF MY BROTHER I EXPLAINED TO MY FRIEND I WAS GOING TO HAVE IT PUT ON A T-SHIRT FOR HIS ONLY SON WHO GOING TO TURN 31 IN OCTOBER OF 2014 THIS WAS LATE JULY BECAUSE I MOVED IN JULY 14TH MY NOW GROWN NEPHEW WAS ONLY 2 1/2 WHEN HIS FATHER DIED, HE NEVER SAW THE PIC I HAD HIS MOM OFFERED ME HIS DADS CAR A NICE BROWN EL CAMINO, OR HIS WATCH⌚TRUST I APPRECIATED IT BUT DECLINED SO SHE BROUGHT IN A BOX OF OLD PICTURES AND ASKED WHICH 1 DID I WANT I PICKED THE 1 THAT WAS THE COOLEST😎 DATED 3/8/1981 [HE WAS ON REFORGER]INSIDE OF A ARMY TENT LAYING BACK ON A COT WITH A BOTTLE OF JACK DANIEL'S IN ONE HAND A ARMY ISSUED PISTOL IN THE OTHER A REAL JOINT IN MOUTH AND A SMILE ON HIS FACE!

👉YES👈SOMETIMES DURING OPERATIONS MILITARY PERSONNEL KNOWING THEIR GOING TO BE IN [THE FIELD] FOR A WHILE SNEEK SHIT IN THEIR DUFFLE BAGS IT'S BEEN GOING ON INTHE MILITARY SINCE DAY1 NONE THE LESS THESE DEMON👹BITCHES STOLE THAT PRICELESS PICTURE THAT I WAS GOING TO GIVE TO MY NEPHEW [AFTER I HAD IT PUT ON A SHIRT] FOR HIS 31TH BIRTHDAY🎂OCTOBER 22ND 2014 THEY STOLE A PRICELESS PICTURE SHOWING OFF USING IT TO SPREAD VICIOUS EVIL👹LIES ABOUT THE MAN ON THE PIC BEING MY LOVER, EVIL👹BITCHES KNEW THAT WAS MY DECEASED BROTHER CAUSE THEY DID HEAR MY CONVERSATION THROUGH MY OPEN BEDROOM WINDOW THAT HOT DAY YET REAL DEMONS👹IN [FLESH] HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RESPECT FOR THE DEAD!!!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

4. TRIED TO HIT ME WITH NEW CAR✔

AS I WAS WALKING TO TAKE OUT MY TRASH ONE MORNING I NOTICED THAT THE EVIL👹SHE DEMON👹BITCH WAS WARMING HER NEW CAR UP SO I WATCHED CAREFULLY AS SHE SAT THERE YET AS I WALKED RIGHT PASSED THE BACK OF IT BUT NOT TO CLOSE SHE QUICKLY BACKED UP ALMOST HITTING ME!!! THANK YOU GOD✝FOR WARNING ME!!!

[MOFO'S PAID] A LOT OF EVIL👹MONEY💵

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5. SPREAD EVIL👹DEMON LIES✔

[THINKING SHE COULD GET AWAY WITH IT]

SINCE EVERYONE IN THE WORLD🌎 KNEW THAT GOD✝ SAID [I COULD NOT TOUCH] ANY OF MY [3] TOP HEADANGELQUEENS💜💜💜GABBY AND SANDRA IN LAS VEGAS OR ANA IN NORTH HOLLYWOOD OR ANY IN THE CITY OF VAN NUYS LIKE MY CHOSEN DARKSTARS MIMI AND Dd THIS EVIL👹LYING DEMON DID SO [SPREAD THE RUMOR] THAT SHE SLEPT WITH ME! NOT IN A BILLION YEARS WOULD I EVER, EVER SLEPT WITH A REAL DEMON👹

ESPECIALLY, SINCE 1, GOD✝SEES ALL AND WOULD [KILL MY ASS] EVEN IF I SLEPT WITH ANY OF MY REAL LUVS💕 BEFORE IT WAS TIME TO CREATE OUR BABYANGELS😇AND #2 MY QUEENS👑[KNOW MY EVERY MOVE] AS [POSTED BEFORE] BECAUSE GOD✝ DID SO [TIE] US AS ONE MANY CENTURIES AGO!

YET I HEARD [FALSE BULLSHIT] ALL OVER TOWN, LYING EVIL👹BITCH, AS GOD✝SAID [THIS BITCH] DOES NOT EVEN KNOW THY BIRTHMARK DIRECTLY UPON THY CHEST OR STOMACH THE SHE DEMON👹KNOWS NOT WHICH ONE A HEAVENLY💫UNIQUE SHAPE TRULY UNFORGETTABLE SHE IS A BIG LIAR!!!

TRUST HER EVIL👹SOUL CAST INTO HELLS DEEPEST FLAMING🔥PITS LONG AGO!!!

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

6. WENT AGAINST GODS✝HOLY💫LAW!!!✔

TRIED HER EVILSELF👹HAD HER BITCH EVIL SON👹NEIGHBORS ON BOTH SIDES OF ME AND DEMONS👹ACROSS THE STREET TO MAKE ME STAND UP☝GOING AGAINST GODS✝💫HOLY💫PLANS AND HOLY💫LAW⚖ 👉👉👉COMMITTING A GREAT SIN👈👈👈AGAINST OUR GOD✝OVER AND OVER!!!

THEY WERE TOLD A HEAVY PRICE WOULD BE PAID IN FULL AND IT SHALL GODSAYS!!!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

THAT'S WHY CORONAVIRUS💀WAS SENT!!! IT IS HIS [1ST WRATH✝AGAINST MANKIND] AFTER THE DEMONS👹WERE TOLD MANY TIMES YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHATS COMING!!!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

7. LAUGHABLE INTIMATION✔

I'VE BEEN CALLED NIGGER SO MANY TIMES [ITS RIDICULOUS] LORD!!!

I HEARD 'HE SHOULD BE CASTRATED'

I'VE BEEN CALLED FAG AND HOMOSEXUAL IN TWO DIFFERENT SPANISH DIALECTS FOR YEARS [BY BROWNSTARS ALL OVER TOWN] FOR MANY YEARS!!! YES [UNGRATEFUL] AND TOTALLY DISRESPECTFUL I TOLD MY LORD!

THE DEMONS👹IN [FLESH] HAVE TIRED TO [FORCE ME TO BLESS] THEM BY WALKING DIRECTLY IN MY PATH ON THE STREETS BIG MISTAKE🤜💀

THE DEMONS👹[HAVE TRIED] TO AWAKEN ME IN THE EARLY DARK HOURS BY TALKING SHIT OUTSIDE ON THE SIDEWALK BUT GOD✝AND I ARE SO USUALLY ALREADY UP!!!

THE DEMONS👹[HAVE TIRED TO PROVOKE] ME OVER [THE LAST YEAR OR SO WHEN I'M [SPEAKING IN HOLY💫SPIRIT] WITH GOD✝ DURING THE DAYTIME HOPING TO CAPTURE ME ON THEIR APARTMENT CAMERAS🎥

RESPONDING TO THEIR EVIL👹BULLSHIT SO THEY CAN RUN TO [MY VA VASH REPS] AND [HOUSING AUTHORITY] AND SAY, SEE THIS GUY IS UNSTABLE!!! BITCHES PLEASE SMDH☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

MY GOD✝IS REAL HE SEES AND KNOWS ALL!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

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8. DEADLY💀EXPLOSION💥MEANT TO BE?✔

AFTER SPENDING THE WEEKEND AT ONE OF MY SISTER'S I CAME BACK AND BEFORE I GOT A FEW FEET FROM MY FRONT DOOR🚪 THE SMELL OF LEAKING GAS WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO KNOCK A BULL TO THE DIRT!!!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

TRULY I THANK GOD✝THAT MY SON WAS OVER HIS GRANDMOTHER'S AT THE TIME ONCE I OPENED THE DOOR🚪I HAD TO HURRY UP AND STEP BACK!!! IMMEDIATELY I MADE AN EMERGENCY🤳CALL TO THE GAS COMPANY WHO HAD A WORKER THERE IN ABOUT 👉5 MINUTES👈HE HIMSELF HAD TO COVER HIS FACE YET OPENED A WINDOW I FORGOT [AFTER EXPLAINING TO ME] THAT 👉SOMEONE HAD LOOSENED A SMALL👈 CONNECTOR WHICH [IF NOT REPORTED] IN POSSIBLY A FEW MORE MINUTES COULD HAVE CAUSED A 🔥HUGE EXPLOSION!!!🔥

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

▶ANYTHING TO SEPARATE ME AWAY FROM MY BLESSED CHOSEN ANGELQUEENWIVES

ASK YOURSELVES, [WHO DOES SHIT] LIKE THAT? NONE BUT THE EVIL👹OF SATAN👹

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9. DISRESPECTED MY FAMILY✔

TOTAL DISRESPECT!!! FROM THE TIME MY YOUNGEST SON CURTIS JR. TRIED TO GAIN EMPLOYMENT AND WAS SHUT OUT OF THE SYSTEM BY THE REAL DEMONS👹PUTTING THE WORD OUT IN VAN NUYS THAT IF I DID [NOT STAND UP AGAINST] GOD✝FOR THEM MY SON COULD NOT EVER WORK IN THIS TOWN! 👉POINT 1, HE APPLIED AT SEVERAL PLACES THAT [I BLESSED FOR MONTHS] THAT WAS HIRING! HE KNEW THEY WE'RE HIRING BECAUSE I TOLD HIM I ALSO TOLD THE MANAGERS AT THIS PLACES TOO EXPECT VISIT FROM MY SON WHO WAS LOOKING FOR WORK! EACH TIME NO LUCK! NO PROBLEM KEEP YOUR HEAD UP AND KEEP APPLYING EVEN THOUGH DEMONS👹PUT THE WORD OUT!!! BUT AFTER THE LAST ONE I TOLD HIM JUST WAIT!!! CHECK THIS!!!

MACDONALD'S🍔HIRED HIM, TOLD HIM TO COME BACK FOR HIS ORIENTATION IN A [COUPLE OF DAYS] BECAUSE THEY WERE GOING TO HIRE 2 MORE PEOPLE! AFTER A COUPLE OF DAYS HE WENT BACK UP THERE AND WAS TOLD TO COME BACK A 3RD TIME THE NEXT DAY TO. FINALLY GO THROUGH ORIENTATION AND GET HIS WORK UNIFORM

3 FUCKING TIMES HE WENT UP THERE ONLY TO BE TOLD DEMON👹BULLSHIT AND WHEN HE WENT THERE THE LAST TIME THEY SAID 👉👉THE MANGER WOULD CALL HIM!!!👈👈

GOD✝SAID, [YOU WERE RIGHT AGAIN] THE BROWNSTAR DEMONS👹IN VAN NUYS WILL NOT EVER CHANGE!!!

📳BEING CONNECTED TO DEMONTRUMP👹THE DEMONS👹[HAVE BEEN TOLD] ABOUT CERTAIN FAMILY CONVERSATIONS WHICH [WERE MEANINGLESS] SINCE ITS JUST [VERBAL ANGEL😇TALK] BUT ALL OF MY FAMILIES PHONES📳HAVE BEEN TAPPED BY THE DEMONTRUMP👹ADMINISTRATION👹

👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂👂

WHEN EVER YOU HEAR ECHOES WHEN YOU ARE [TALKING TO SOMEONE] TRUST YOUR PHONE IS DEFINITELY TAPPED!!! BELIEVE IT, I USE TO WORK FOR NEXTEL PARTNERS IN LAS VEGAS BEFORE THEY SOLD OUT TO SPRINT. IF YOU'RE WONDERING IS OUR ▶CONVOS STILL BEING LISTENED TOO?◀

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

[YES] BUT WE'RE USE TO IT UNCLE SAM🇺🇸 HAS BEEN AROUND MY ANGEL😇FAMILY [FOR MANY DECADES!!!] REMEMBER, MY [MIB] CONVERSATION AFTER SWEARING IN UNCLE SAMS🇺🇸ARMY HE HAD A FILE!!! YEAH, THE LIFE OF REAL ANGELS IS NO JOKE!!!

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

👉2 WEEKS👈THE REAL DEMONS👹IN WASHINGTON, DC DECIDED TO TAKE OVER MY CELLPHONE📳BY CONTROLLING WHEN I CAN OPERATE IT!!! IF I POST CERTAIN THINGS THEY TRY AND ERASE THEM SO THE WORLD🌎DOES NOT KNOW THE TRUTH REALITY!!! FOR INSTANCE LAST WEEK GOD✝ WANTED [THE SIGN OF HEAVENS LIGHT] TO BE SEEN POSTED BY HIS SPECIAL ANGEL💫 TIM😇KNOWN AS UFO MAN IT WAS TITLED FLASHING LIGHTS RECORDED IN THE UK🇬🇧

IT WAS A AWESOME TRUTH REALITY VIDEO THAT I TRIED TO POST BUT IT WAS ERASED INSTANTLY AND YOUTUBE UNDER ORDERS ERASED THE VIDEO WITHIN MERE MINUTES

NOW THE REAL DEMONS👹THINK THAT THEY ARE IN SOME TYPE OF CONTROL ▶WHEN THE TOTAL OPPOSITE IS TRUE!!!◀

👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇GOD✝IS IN TOTAL CONTROL OVER ALL OF MANKIND WHICH IS EVIDENT IN THE VERY POWERFUL COVID-[19] GLOBAL PANDEMIC

HEAVENLY💫ANGEL WAR SHIPS👽AND HEAVENLY ANGEL WAR ORBS😇BEING SEEN ▶[GLOBALLY🌎NOW MORE THAN EVER]◀ BEFORE IN MANKIND'S SHORT HISTORY AND PEOPLE ARE POSTING EVIDENCE DAILY🌅☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

10. SOLD OUT OWN RACE!!!✔

STUPID ASS EVIL👹DEMONS👹[FOR YEARS] REPEATEDLY WENT AGAINST GOD✝AND HIS HOLY💫PLANS [AND STILL DO KNOWING] FULL WELL THE CONSEQUENCES IN FLESH AND IN THE SPIRITUAL💫WORLD AFTER THEY DIE💀[YET THEY REFUSE TO OBEY!!!]

👉OVER A YEAR AGO I TOLD THE DEMONS YOU'RE GOING TO NEED US, GODS ANGELS IN THE FUTURE ONE DAY AND WE WILL NOT HELP ANY OF YOU [BECAUSE WE DO NOT] [OWE YOU SHIT!!!]✔ TRUST I MEANT EVERY WORD!!! EVIL👹DEMON👹MOFO'S ACT LIKE WE OWE THEM SOMETHING UNGRATEFUL✔ ▶SELLOUTS OF THEIR BROWNSTAR RACE◀

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

VOLUNTEERS TO GO AGAINST US FOR CASH THEY GAMBLED WITH THEIR VERY LIVES!!!!

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

THESE IGNORANT REAL DEMONS IN FLESH

ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT [NO MATTER] HOW MANY YEARS THEY DISRESPECTED MY GODS✝ HOLY💫PLANS, OR [WE HIS ANGELS] THEY COULD GET PAID💵EVIL👹GAINS FOR YEARS AND STILL GET HELP ON [DACA!!!]

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦

👹THEY ASSUMED👹THEY HAD ME IN A CLASSIC CATCH 22 BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE MEANING THAT I HAD TO TAKE THEIR EVIL👹BULLSHIT👹AND STILL HELP👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

[THE DACA DREAMERS] BECAUSE GOD✝ [BLESSED ME] WITH SO MANY BEAUTIFUL 👑BROWNSTAR 💜💜ANGELQUEENWIVES👑

THEY WERE COUNTING ON MY WIVES💗TOO ▶PRESSURE ME INTO HELPING THE [DACA] ▶DREAMERS [WHICH I WOULD HAVE DONE] ▶ANYWAY IF GOD✝ HAD NOT BEEN TOTALLY ▶DISRESPECTED HAD NOT WE ALSO BEEN ▶TOTALLY DISRESPECTED!!!!! NOT NOW!!!!!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

UNFORTUNATELY, [THAT SHIT BACKFIRED]✔ BECAUSE OF THE WAY MY ANGEL😇 FAMILY AND I HAVE BEEN AND ARE STILL TREATED!

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

SO IT IS BEST FOR [THE DREAMERS💫] TO SO KEEP THEIR FAITH✝STRONG IN GOD✝

🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷🔷

FOR SURELY HE IS REVIEWING THESE EVIL DEEDS👹BY BROWNSTAR DEMONS👹AND YOUR [LACK OF SPIRITUAL💫STRENGTH] TO STEP FORWARD AND [SPEAK UP] FOR WHAT 👉WAS BEING DONE IN THE NAME OF YOU 👉BROWNSTARS BY THEM!!! GOD✝WATCHED 👉FROM HOLY💫HEAVEN AS YOU STOOD BY 👉FOR YEARS AND SPOKE NOT A WORD OF 👉SUPPORT FOR ME, HIS ANGEL BROTHER FORCED TO BLESS YOU FOR YEARS!!! SMDH!

THIS IS NOT THE 1ST TIME I POSTED THINGS WE HAVE BEEN AND STILL GO THROUGH!!!!!

👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

MANY DREAMERS IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD!

MANY WORLDWIDE🌎PRAY FOR YOU DAILY!

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

IF THESE EVIL👹DEEDS [ARE ERASED] GOD✝ SHALL HAVE ME POST THEM ANOTHER TIME!!! YET THESE ARE BUT A FEW OF MANY REASONS [I WILL NOT HELP BROWNSTARS] BEFORE THE SUPREME COURTS DECISION!!!

GODSAYS💫IN THE ALMOST [6 YEARS] OF THIS EVILNESS👹DONE IN [HIS CURRENT] DEMON NEIGHBORHOOD NOT 1,✔ NOT 1,✔ BROWNSTAR SPOKE UP AGAINST THE REAL DEMONS👹SUPPORTING MY BROTHER AS I AM HE [FORCED HIM TO BLESS VAN NUYS] AND MANY OTHER CITIES IN CALIFORNIA!!!

HE HAS LIVED IN VAN NUYS SINCE 1/2013

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

GODSAYS💫ONLY [10] WILL BE MENTIONED THIS DAY🌅AS THE IMPORTANCE OF OUR SPIRITUAL💫WAR AGAINST DEMONS👹IS FAR GREATER THAN THESE ALREADY KNOWN EVIL👹DEEDS WHICH HAVE TRULY CAUSED MUCH WRATH✝UPON MANKIND!!!!!☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝☝

MORE POSTED AT [10AM] TIME FOR DEEP SPIRIT💫USING MY 3RD EYE!!! 0505HRS PST

▶SHARE THIS IMPORTANT INFO POST!!!!!◀

⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛

[IF] DACA ENDS [BLAME] DEMONTRUMP👹AND THE SELLOUT BROWNSTAR DEMONS👹

🌍🌎🌏🌎🌍🌏🌎🌍🌏🌎🌍🌎🌍🌏🌎🌍🌏

WORLD🌍LEADERS ALL LAUGHING LOUDLY

PEACE PROTESTORS RAN HIM👹UP INTO A BUNKER!!!

NOT TERRORIST, GODS PEACEFUL PEOPLE!!!

💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫

GODSAYS💫IF MARTIAL LAW COMES YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO MY CHILDREN!!!

👉👉NATO COMMAND SHOULD STAY👈👈 🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳ON ALERT!!!🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

#Youtube

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umaspirateship · 7 years

Text

fish out of water

Gil felt a pang at being down at the docks while they were up on the ship’s decks. They’d all been inseparable once, he and Harry and Uma…

As a kid, Gil mostly stuck to himself.

That was a lie. As a kid, Gil mostly stuck to Uma. The LeFou to her Gaston, but like a version of Gaston that was far more cunning and beautiful and talented…

He hadn’t been a very good henchman. He mostly spent his time watching Harry’s smile stretch across his cheeks whenever he made a joke and gazing at Uma lovingly as her hair swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the waves. Couldn’t sail a boat to save his hide, and he wasn’t very buff either. No, at that age he’d been a skinny little thing, his smile easily twice as big as his biceps.

No one in my family is a minion! We are leaders, and I expect you to act as such! Not to mention, that sea witch has been targeted by Maleficent’s daughter herself. Do you not care about me? About my reputation?

Dad didn’t like it. An understatement. Gil was suddenly sent to Dragon Hall instead of Serpent Prep. No one had ever told him why. They didn’t need to. And, just as naturally as losing his best friends, Gil suddenly became accustomed to eating the scraps at the dinner table – and trust me, what counted as scraps on the Isle was really just glorified poison. He’d had Gaston’s constitution to thank for surviving.

So, like he’d said. Gil learned to stick to himself. He’d tried to form a new gang, once or twice, but every time he tried he was reminded of the feel of Harry’s hands tugging his towards danger or the way Uma (no, Shrimpy) looked when it was late in the afternoon, and they were all too tired to act evil anymore.

Sure, he usually had a few girls and goons following him about, admiring his cleft chin and dazzling grin, but he was never the one anybody really wanted to hang out with. He was just a way to get to Gaston Jr. or Gaston the Third. His father’s namesakes in more than, well, name. Taller, buffer, meaner, and if you asked his teachers, smarter than him. Which, judging by the way Junes had a tendency to walk into walls after staring too long into a mirror, really said something about Gil. It hurt. His dad was all about being the best, and Gil … wasn’t.

Maybe his mom had been spot on when she had chosen his name. Most of the time he felt like a fish out of water.

So he spent his evenings arm wrestling minions until his arms turned black and blue from being slammed against the hard wooden crates that littered the harbor. He fought hard in back alleyways where news of his failings would never get back to his dad. Did pull-ups in doorways instead of going to class. When he found some old diet books amongst the usual garbage brought over from Auradon, he started hoarding eggs and spices, learning to cook.

Judging by the looks of the girls, it seemed to be paying off. He hadn’t lost a game in a while and had taken to showing off in Ursula’s Fish and Chips. A small part of him wanted Uma to notice, to take him back as a henchman, but her eyes always seemed to glance over him, looking for something bigger. For an adventure.

“Gil,” Gaston the Third said one afternoon, out of the blue, “You thinking about competing?”

Third never talked to him during the day. That was an unspoken rule, and Gil didn't want to break it... but he was curious, and, as his teachers always said, stupid.

“Competing in what? Is that what everyone’s been talking about? I’ve noticed an increase in chatter at the Fish and Chips shoppe, but I didn’t think...”

“Of course you didn’t little bro,” Gaston Jr. chuckled from the other side of the room, “If it’s not about arm wrestling or girls, you’re pretty useless.”

“Shut up, Junes,” hissed Third. “You’re hijacking my conversation.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll just leave and have a chat with dad about how you’re getting all chummy with the runt.”

“Uh, guys?” Gil said, “You never said what the competition was.”

“Hook’s giving one of his ships to whoever wins the boat race this weekend.”

“Thanks, Junes,” Gil said. He thought, then frowned. “No, don’t think I’ll be entering that one. Ships aren’t really my thing.”

“Really?” laughed Third, slapping him on the back. “Then why do you spend so much time down at the dock? You can’t honestly like fish and chips that much.”

Anything to get out of the house, Gil thought.

“Or maybe,” prodded Junes, poking him in the side, “He’s there to stare at his girlfriend, shrimpy. Remember how hung up on her you were?”

Gil stood up mid-sentence and knocked over his chair. Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third looked on, surprised. A man cleared his throat in the doorway. Gaston.

Dad.

“Dad, you’re home!” said Junes, his eyes shooting to the top of his head.

“Gil,” Gaston growled, ignoring the greeting of his eldest son. “I told you not to talk to her anymore.”

“Dad,” Gil started –

“I thought you were getting better. You’ve certainly grown into quite an impressive kid. Not as impressive as I was at your age, but we’ve all got to start somewhere.”

“Dad, I wasn’t...”

“But now I hear that you’re hanging out with that, that shrimpy?”

“Mal’s gone, dad. She’s a traitor! Shrimpy is going to tear Auradon to shreds, and I want to be there when she does. And anyway,” Gil glanced down at the broken chair, and avoided his Dad’s glare, “She doesn’t even remember me. We haven’t spoken.”

“Yeah, dad,” Third started hesitantly, “everyone knows Gil only goes down to Fish and Chips because that’s where all the henchmen and pretty girls hang out. Someone’s got to admire his muscles, right?”

“Plus, plus,” Junes jumped up, inspired, “It’s got the best tables for arm wrestling, see? Grub isn’t priced too badly either, and isn’t it better Gil take up less of the food budget?”

“… I suppose,” said Gaston, “That I will let you off with a warning. But if you join those pirates, you will no longer be my son.”

“You don’t need to worry, dad.”

He would do anything to make his dad proud of him.

Besides, it’s not like Shrimpy had a ship.

-----

Even after that argument, Gil somehow found himself drawn to the Fish and Chips shoppe. Something about the stench of the place put him at ease.

“Gil, kid,” the disgruntled cook said, tapping him on the shoulder, “You should probably stop flexing. Everyone’s left.”

He glanced up. She was right, the place was vacant and quiet. The only noises were the rowdy screams and cheers from outside.

Was the barrier broken? Had someone found the trident? Was there a sale on hats?

No.

He realized that immediately when he ran outside and saw what had captured the attention of the crowd that morning. The race. Of course! How could he have forgotten? That’s what had started that whole damned argument. He shoved his way to the front, ignoring the girls who occasionally grabbed at his biceps.

The first thing he saw was a streak of blue hair moving fast.

“Shrimpy!” he cried, smile big. He didn’t know how she managed to get her hands on a goblin ship, but there she was, in the lead. But wait…

On the ship next to her, an unmistakable pirate was racing ahead.

Harry Hook.

It seemed like fate, that those two would end up neck and neck, sailing together until the finish line. They’d managed to stick it out as friends, even if Gil had left. His lips quirked into a half smile.

In a flash, the race was over, Uma throwing her fist in the air in victory. Uma. That was her name. The crowd chanted it over and over like they were caught in a spell. Gil knew he was. Oh, wait. she was talking.

“And I’d like to introduce you all to Harry Hook, my first mate!” Uma said, waving him up to stand next to her

Harry stepped up on the boat, gripping his hook tightly. Woah. He was even more handsome than Gil had remembered. He tried not to faint looking at the both of them. That was definitely un-manly.

He could have stared at them for hours, trying but unable to get the motivation to talk to them. His father’s words still rung in his head. But, eventually, the crowd dispersed and Gil wandered back to Ursula’s Fish and Chips, challenging the local scum to another round of arm wrestling.

But, after beating thirty ugly goons, Gil’s arm was starting to get tired. For once in his life, all he wanted was to go home and go to bed.

… he also wanted to –

no.

Sleep. He needed it.

It was dark, this time, when Third came to talk to him.

“Did you see the race?” Third asked, leaning against the bed. Gil sat up, groggy.

“Did you seriously wake me up to ask that?”

“Well, did you?” asked Junes, popping his head in the doorway. Figures. He always followed Third around. It was easier to pick up the latest gossip that way.

“Just the end,” Gil muttered, “I’d forgotten about it.”

“Then you’ll know that Uma and Harry have a ship,” said Junes, shutting the door.

“Yeah, and?”

“And? Don’t you get it?” Third said, staring Gil down. Gil didn’t realize a kid who went through two bottles of hairspray a week could look so serious. Third stood up pulled the old, tattered trunk from underneath Gil’s bed. “They’re the big shots on the Isle now. Nobody calls her shrimpy any more, not unless they want to lose a limb.”

Gil’s eyes widened, glancing at the suitcase. If dad knew Third was saying this, doing this…

"Wh-what?" he stuttered.

“You idiot,” groaned Junes,” They’ve got a ship. You’d follow them off a cliff for some bizarre reason. And they’re looking for a pirate crew.”

-----

His brothers helped him pack. He didn’t have much, but if Uma got them to Auradon, and he knew she would, he wouldn’t need it.

He took a deep breath, stashed his suitcase behind some bushes to look less desperate, less unwanted, and walked up to Harry and Gil.

Breath.

“Heard you’re looking for muscle,” he said, his white teeth gleaming, trying to hide the way his heart was trying to leap out from his chest. He pulled up his shirt sleeves. Thank God he had gotten buff. “You’re in luck, as I’ve got some to spare.”

And finally, somehow, he was enough. Home, almost. If he’d known what that meant.

(he did)

#gil #uhookme #sea3 #harry #uma #i wrote this #fanfic

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noonmutter · 7 years

Text

Final Acts

(( Fair warning: This got really long at about 3600 words. ))

Deliverance Point was abuzz, more so than it had been in a while. Everyone was feeling that mix of excitement and bone-chilling terror that preceded a major change on the battlefield. The Tomb would crack open any day now, and everyone was ready, and no one was ready. Most of the time, this problem was addressed by drinking, going to a brothel, gambling, and in some cases, deserting.

He’d gone with option three, and had come out actually profiting a little bit, but it didn’t really help all that much. Of course he’d cheated, but so had everyone else at the makeshift table; winning wasn’t the point, the actual game was whether you could keep the other guys from guessing your trick. Fair games were dull and people who took offense at basic loaded dice rarely had enough money to be worth the hassle anyway.

Option one came afterward, once he had the coin for it. His tolerance was far too high for going to bars unless he was willing to go broke until next pay day, especially bars catering to soldiers. He needed a lot of drink to get a buzz, but at least the mixed nature of the forces on the Shore made price gouging dangerous territory. You could get away with that sometimes, but not when a too-sober Tauren paladin was standing in front of you with six friends and a mug half full of water.

Option two... he wanted option two very much. He was lonesome, and there was an abundance of company to be found on the floating city, one short flight away. But he was spoken for, and he wasn’t a dishonorable man where it mattered. Even if he’d been willing to entertain the idea for more than a few minutes, he knew Shedwyn would be crushed. And then castrate him. And then Leon would probably show up and kick his head in...

Terry didn’t respect the deserters, but he understood them.

His reverie was broken by a poke in the side, and it took him a moment before he thought to look down. The goblin courier scoffed at him, then held up a clipboard and a package of simple brown paper and twine. “Sign here, mac.”

“Sign?” Terry couldn’t recall the last time he’d had to sign for mail.

“Yeah, sign. Y’know, pen to paper, scribble somethin’? Usually yer name. I ain’t picky, whatever’s fastest.”

Already tired of listening, Terry took the clipboard and scrawled something that might have been his name, but had even odds of being a bunch of swear words. To judge by the goblin’s expression, he interpreted it as the latter. He hung around a few seconds, looking expectant, but Terry had already started walking away. With an irritated sigh of “Cheap friggin’ Gilneans,” he took his leave.

Rather than returning to the hustle and noise of the Point proper, Terry walked out past the edges of the More-or-Less-Safe Zone. His personal campsite wasn’t too far from the point, but far enough that he could avoid most of his night terrors. Some of the dreams were stubborn and came to him regardless, but he chalked that up to general fatigue.

Sitting down in front of his tent with a soft grunt, he took a proper look at the package and clucked his tongue in disapproval when he found the address was printed, rather than handwritten. The sender’s address wasn’t one he recognized, and he hated not knowing where things came from. It didn’t stop him from opening the thing, but it made him somewhat wary. Turning it over to find the knot in the twine, his nerves settled when he found a letter held flush against the box, addressed “Terry - Read First” in Vember’s tidy hand. He didn’t recognize the wax seal holding the envelope shut, though.

Dutifully, he set the box down without unwrapping it and broke the seal on the letter. Although some of the phrasing sounded like Vember, the handwriting was not hers. It was even cleaner, almost like a printed script, and clearly painstakingly pored over to minimize spatter from the quill and avoid mistakes. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the writer had been using a ruler.

“Terry,

I hope this letter finds you at an opportune time. If you are not already, I would suggest that you be seated and, knowing you, alone. Following the events of our initial raid on the lab in Gilneas, a large number of notes and materials were recovered and sent to the Kirin Tor for further study. Among them were a series of objects revealed to be data storage devices, the functionality of which is best left unwritten.

The Kirin Tor were recently able to translate the information on these devices to a less primitive medium, and upon review, deemed it nonviable for research purposes and returned it to us.

Enclosed, you will find a Draenic crystal recording device, in which one sequence has already been stored. Upon realizing what it was, Vember and I determined its fate would be best left to you to decide. Please be assured that we did not play the recording in its entirety, out of decency and respect.

You are free to keep this device and the data on it, and I have included instructions on how to operate it. It is also possible to delete the data, or to record over it if you deem it necessary.

Respectfully, Lady Neun Shadhemir Vember Marlon Shedwyn Mair Lias” Just below that, in Vember’s own handwriting, was a single line:

“You have my word that I will not breathe a word of this to your brother. But you should. - V”

His hands were trembling once he’d gotten through the second paragraph. By the time he’d finished reading it, he nearly lost the slip that explained how the device worked in his rush to open the box.

The device itself was...underwhelming, a pleasant but bland quartzlike rectangle about eight inches across with a faint bluish sheen to it. Arcane energy arced between it and his fingertips for a moment before settling to an almost imperceptible warmth in his hands. It took him a few minutes to figure out he was holding it upside down, but once that was sorted, getting it working was a matter of seconds.

On activation, the device glowed bright blue, and most of the flat surface shimmered before turning a deep, pure black. The display was wobbly and unclear at the beginning, but clarified after a few seconds, until he was able to discern a set of hands--his hands--opening a door...

“Wha’ d’you mean you shot ‘im?!”

“Only in th’ leg, mate!”

“WHY DID YOU SHOOT ‘IM?!”

Diggs’ face was white as the hunter, barely out of his teens, pushed back his antlered hood and rubbed frantically at his scarred mouth. “I-I-it were a--there was a bloody--’e was a madbeast, Terry! Y’din’t say nuffin’ bout ‘im bein’ one o’ those!”

[Eyes wide, Terry mumbled “Oh god” to himself, but did not stop watching.]

Terry swore for the hundredth time in the last minute and a half, picking up his own rifle and moving his rucksack next to the doorway. He was glad he was already dressed. “You bloody nit, why were y’even carryin’? Y’were just sposed t’ watch ‘im!”

“Don’t put this on me, bruv! Yer th’one din’t fink t’mention I might be starin’ atta ‘ell’ound!”

The impact of Diggs’ back on the wall was loud, and he let out an undignified yelp when he felt something pop. Terry’s grip on his shoulders was like steel--angry steel--as he got in close and snarled, “Leon could be dead right now, you fuckin’--”

“What th’ bloody ‘ell is goin’ on in ‘ere?!”

Terry’s blood ran cold all over again as dad’s voice rattled both their brains. The man could really boom when he wanted to, and the tiny Duskhaven cabin they’d been given already amplified every footstep. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Diggs bolted into the night the instant he could, leaving Terry standing alone, rifle in one hand, pack by the door, as his parents came inside. Bettany reached out to stop the fleeing man, but missed by a wide margin when he actually juked around her.

[A weak, mournful laugh. ”You cowardly prick.”]

They’d been away at their own party, but it was the old-folks’ party, so they were dressed a bit nicer. Mum’s hair was still done up the fancy way she liked, and she’d managed to keep her one good dress pristine for another day. Dad’s suit was already trying to split at every seam again, after a dozen trips to a dozen tailors. He already dwarfed his wife, but that suit made it even more obvious just how big he really was.

[Terry wished, as he watched the scene unfold all over again, that the suit didn’t fit because his dad was fat. It would’ve been easier to deal with him if he was fat.]

Graeme set one huge hand on his wife’s shoulder and stepped around her, not letting her get between him and Terry, though she’d already started to try. Bettany knew what was coming and her expression had shifted from confusion to determination almost immediately. The younger Ambroce stared up into his dad’s face [Terry noticed the way the image seemed to pinch at the edges; he’d been trying to look stern, and ended up scowling instead] as he came close enough to make out every stray whisker around the bush of a beard he wore.

I can still do this. It’ll still work. Just please, please, let it work fast.

“We’re leavin’. T’night. I already sent Leon a’ead.” The focus shifted for just a second to Mum’s worried frown, then back to Dad, just in time to catch his mouth twitch at one corner. When Graeme didn’t say anything beyond a low harrumph, Terry continued, voice audibly quivering this time. “I’m takin’ mum with me. It ain’t safe ‘ere.”

“What was tha’ rat bastard friend o’ yours screamin’ about b’fore ‘e ran like ‘e stole somethin’?”

“I--’e was--sposed t’ be... guidin’ Leon through th’--”

Graeme wasn’t having it, scoffing and beginning to pace back and forth across the narrow hallway while keeping his eyes solidly on Terry’s face. “That slag was Leon’s guide outta town? Th’same dipshit ‘o wanted t’ fight Kormac stone sober an’ couldn’t tell th’ dif’rence between moss ‘n’ poison ivy?”

Rather than trying to defend one of the weakest lies he’d told in his life, Terry bulled ahead, raising his voice to be heard over his dad’s. “We’re already packed in too tight, there’s more people filt’rin’ in ev’ry day, an’ there’s things in th’ woods out ‘ere! We ‘ave t’go b’fore there’s no way t’get gone!”

“I am not leavin’ my ‘ome be’ind just so you kin feel like th’ big man in th’ouse, boyo!”

Again, Terry’s eyes shifted to mum, looking to her for help. She just barely nodded her head to him before stepping forward, reaching for Graeme’s arm. “Love, it’s not safe ‘ere. ‘E’s not wrong about th’woods. You know tha’ better’n anybody ‘ere.” She was trying to force him to look at her, but he wouldn’t stop pacing, and eventually swatted her hand off of him.

Terry growled under his breath, moving closer to the door and holding out his hand. “I’m not doin’ this all over again. I’m--we’re leavin’, with or without you.” He held out his hand toward mum, but her eyes narrowed and then went wide. “Is that blood?”

Terry looked down and saw the dark red smear across his palm. It must’ve gotten on him when he’d shoved Diggs around. Saying nothing right away, he pulled a handkerchief from his shirt and began wiping it clean.

“Terry, what ‘appened?” Now mum was rushing forward, grabbing for his hand and intent on inspecting him for damage. He managed to dodge her once and once only before she whapped him over the back of the head and took his hand anyway. “It is blood!”

[”Don’t say it!” Cringing in almost physical pain, he knew what was coming.]

“Nothin’ t’worry over, it’s not mine.”

That, of course, was not the right thing to say, causing both of his parents to stop moving and look straight at his face. He knew what he’d done as soon as it’d left his mouth, but there was no taking it back. Bettany didn’t have a chance to say anything else before Graeme had crossed the room to shove Terry back a few feet.

“Whose blood is it then, boy? What’ve you done?”

“Dammit there’s no time fer this shit! Leon’s waitin’ fer--”

[Now, of course, Terry knew why he hadn’t seen it coming; he’d been talking, angry, panicked over his brother bleeding out somewhere in the woods. But it was plain as day on the screen.] As soon as the word ‘Leon’ reached his ears, Graeme’s eyes flicked down to focus on the rifle Terry still held. The stubbly parts of his beard began growing, and his eyes shone yellow for just a second.

Terry was still talking when Graeme picked him up and threw him across the room, and Bettany was shouting at her husband to stop by the time he’d gotten back to his feet. Face already becoming distorted and dark, Graeme paid her no heed. He was a walking cacophony of cracking bones and fleshy squishing as he stalked toward his fallen son, and growling--actually growling, bestial, impossible--from somewhere in the depths of his enormous chest.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

[He nearly dropped the crystal when Graeme lunged forward, a monstrous wall of black hair and yellow teeth. This part, he still remembered very clearly. He remembered thinking he was going to die, and that if he didn’t, he was going to turn into the same thing. He remembered thinking that mum was right there. That Leon was still outside, probably dying.]

The first few seconds were brutal and bloody, as a man pinned by a raging worgen always was. When he raised a hand to shield his face, one of Graeme’s claws went straight through his palm, nearly gouging his eye anyway. At one point, he’d managed to draw a bowie knife, but all that did was give the beast something to chew on and scrape up his muzzle with.

[Terry was confused. This wasn’t right. He’d had his rifle. He’d had his rifle, and they’d grappled over it, and he’d used it to block the worst of the damage--]

BLAM.

Graeme toppled sideways with an unmistakably canine yelp of pain. Terry turned his head to see Bettany holding his smoking rifle in shaking hands, eyes streaming, expression hard. She was clearly holding herself together as tightly as she could, and just as clearly, it wasn’t quite enough. “Graeme. Get up. Please.” When no response came, she cocked the rifle and took a single step forward, half-shrieking, “Give me back my ‘usband, you devil-dog bastard!”

He turned again, stunned, to look back at the thing that had been his father. As he took in the sight of the hulking brute laying in a rapidly spreading pool of blood with a gaping hole blown out of his side, everything shook for a few seconds. There was a distant rumble like thunder, but not quite the same, and the wolf finally stirred. Terry started to sit up, but fell down almost immediately with an agonized gasp. The sound shook Bettany out of her momentary lapse in control and she started toward him, only to stumble and drop the rifle when the world shook again.

This time, there was a shrieking sound, like trying to twist a wet branch until it snapped, amplified by ten million times and only growing louder. [Even muted by the playback from the crystal as it was, the sound was an assault on the ears. Still he watched, transfixed.]

He could barely see straight for how wildly the world around him shook, but he was able to see the black wolf rise. They both looked up when they heard splintering wood above them, and both saw the hole forming in the roof. Graeme looked at Terry for a moment--barely a quarter of a second--and bellowed something [he could almost make it out over the din] as he ran forward to shove Bettany out of the way. The beam fell scant seconds before the rest of the roof, and then the entire world tumbled into roaring darkness around him.

It suddenly went silent, not even white noise, and stayed that way for a few seconds before the display flickered again. Grey text, numbers, and alchemical symbols began scrolling across a solid blue pane, too numerous and rapid to read. The variations began to dwindle until it was just repeating two words: “ERROR” and “SOURCE.” At the very last moment--the last frame--of the feed, another single line flashed and then disappeared. It took a few attempts to freeze it long enough to read.

“SRCMEMDUMPT101 COMPLETE. EDIT MODE? Y/N”

Terry spent almost an hour rolling the recording back, playing it again, listening as hard as he could, rolling it back, playing it again... It was too damned loud and the controls on the bloody thing weren’t fine enough to isolate the voices from the noise. In spite of himself, Terry had picked up and run all the way back up to the Point, bothering every Draenei he passed in hopes that one of them would know how to manipulate the recorder.

Once he’d nearly gotten his ass kicked for bothering the same guy a third time, he forced himself to go back to his campsite. Nearly willing to admit defeat, he caught a glimpse of his commstone sticking out of his bag.

First step: Call Darlain.

...That was the only step he had, really. He was just kind of banking on her knowing somebody who could do it, or knowing somebody who knew somebody. Thankfully, one step was all he needed; the dwarfmum pointed him to Nirahsa, a name he didn’t recognize until Darlain finally fell back on ‘Draenei woman who says ‘yes yes’ a lot.’ Driven by an almost mad need to know, Terry shelled out for a portal jump to Stormwind, rather than using the mail or, gods forbid, waiting till later. He figured nobody would miss him for a few hours.

Nirahsa didn’t have a lot of reason to want to do him a favor, and he knew that, but he was desperate, sincere, and willing to pay her every coin he had to his name if she’d do it. He assumed it reminded her of Leon (actually, she just also didn’t have a lot of reason not to do him a favor). Whatever the reason, she finally relented and told him to come back in an hour. It was a diversion from her actual work, but she needed to take a break anyway, and easy work like that counted, right?

He still insisted on paying her for the work, especially once she handed him written instructions on how to use the little remote she’d put together for him. Had he been in his standard state of mind, he would’ve asked how much she had watched, but his concern was firmly on finding privacy to pore over the recording again. Terry did have enough sense to make sure he sent a message to Shedwyn, telling her he was back in town and to find him at the barracks.

Once he got there, he settled in to get to work.

[With Nirahsa’s tweaks, he was able to mute the background noise almost completely in a matter of minutes. It was with some trepidation that he pressed ‘play’ once again. He wasn’t quite expecting the voice amplification to work as well as it did; it was picking up things that weren’t even shouted. The sound was distorted from the effects applied to it, but functional.]

Graeme rose and grunted in pain. As the wolf’s head lifted to take in the sight of the building in the beginning stages of collapse, he growled “No” to himself. Then, he looked at Terry, and began to run.

[Yelling with almost no sound around to muddy it up, his voice made the crystal vibrate noticeably in Terry’s hands, almost startling him enough to drop it.]

“I’m sorry, Terry! I’m sorry! I love you! Find--”

Whatever else Graeme had hoped to say was cut off by another yelp and a scream as a beam almost as big around as he was slammed into his back, and the feed ended shortly after.

Terry didn’t watch it again, dropping the crystal on his cot and staring at nothing. At some point, his eyes began to water, but he didn’t move save to blink and breathe. When it finally progressed to tears, he didn’t make any attempt to wipe his face. In the next hour, he only moved once: to pick up his pillow, bury his face in it, and scream until he couldn’t anymore.

Just after dusk, Terry’s boots made soft squeaking sounds as he walked slowly through the damp grass. He came to a stop at the foot of the lilac-strewn graves, took one breath, read his father’s headstone, and froze. All the preparation he’d made in his head--things he’d rehearsed a dozen times over, words he wanted to say--dropped away in an instant, bringing him to the ground with his head hung so low his chin nearly touched his chest. His hands rested limply in the grass by his knees, and he wept unrestrained.

All he could bring himself to say were three tiny words, tearing themselves free of his painfully tight throat, filling the little clearing with ache and regret inbetween wracking sobs.

“Me too, dad.”

( @darbiebot @nirahsa @shedwyn @vembermarlon @neun-deserrat )

#and so arrives terry #fathers' day #mum #dad #mum and dad #HEY WHO WANTED TO BE SAD TODAY #I SURE DID #tw: blood #I GAVE MYSELF FEELS #AGAIN #my writing

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