#nobody speak to me all i can think about is the way magnolia has lived in fear for so much of her life.

[monards]

you're talking to crepe but all she's thinking about is that if Magnolia just opened up thing wouldn't of ended the way they did

#magnolias iis so smart she KNOWS she could've gotten around that apparent no-speaking policy #and she didnt #AND THEY COULDVE BEEN SO HAPPY AND FIXED EVERYTHING IF SHE DID. #SHE COULDVE HAD MINT BY ETHICAL MEANS #AND NEITHER WOULDVE BEEN FORCED TO CHASE AFTER THE OTHER. #nobody speak to me all i can think about is the way magnolia has lived in fear for so much of her life. #magnolia & dove #magnolia

[kbmercer]

Ch.1, Pt.2/2: Long Time, No See

[Life’s A Journey]

Summary:

A lot had happened after they parted ways. Nevertheless, the threads that tie them together remained. From children to adults, a reunion that’s long overdue leads the trio to embark on another journey.

Just like old times.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(Y/n)’s day starts with a phone call. The trill of Rotom’s ringtone jolts them from their sleep. Groggily lifting themself up to assume a seated position in the hotel bed, (e/c) peek from cracked eyelids to view the screen that hovers in front of them. Seeing the smiling face of Sonia tugs as little smile of their own as they prompt the Rotom Phone to answer their childhood friend over the line.

“Hey-yo, Sonia! How’s it going?”

“Nothing much. Just wanted to call before I get to work. How are you doing? Are you having a good time in Hoenn?” (Y/n)’s smile grows into a lazy grin. There is a nine-hour time difference between Galar and Hoenn, so it was a given that Sonia would think it was later within the day for them. Shifting to note the time: 9:36am, the trainer pulls themselves from under the covers to get ready.

“It’s grand. Mauville is so large I could get lost in it and the hot-springs of Lavaridge are to die for,” they play along. Entering the restroom, they grab a cloth and lather it to clean their face.

“Oooh, sounds like a dream. A spa day sounds good right about now. Note to self, stop by Circhester when I’m free.” (Y/n) discards the cloth before moving to grab their toothbrush.

“Eh. Those are just the places I managed to visit in my free time. I wish I could’ve seen more, but that’s kind of hard when you’re traveling for work.”

“I guess that’s true. How is work, by the way?” (Y/n) groans.

“Same old. There’ve been a lot of interesting things we’ve come across, but it seems we’re walking in circles instead of a straight line.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes, quite unfortunate indeed. With that being said, my efforts in researching has come to an end for now…I have to get back to Unova soon to fulfill my duties there.” Their words were muffled by the toothpaste in their mouth, still Sonia understands their words just barely. Laughing at hearing bristles on teeth over the line, the woman reclines in the seat in front of her vanity.

“You just never know how to sit down, do you? I don’t know how you do it, y’know. Having work at home and then moving to do work elsewhere? Do you ever take a break???” A thoughtful and long-drawn hum leaves (Y/n)’s lips. Did stopping by Galar count as a break? Maybe, but it would be a rather short one considering they’d only be here for the next few days. Though they can’t tell her that. It’d ruin the surprise visit.

Damn. Sonia’s right.

“Now that I think about it…” silence follows. Neither of the two say anything for a moment before Sonia eventually continues.

“Take more care of yourself…OK?”

Their eyebrows furrow. Quickly muting Rotom Phone to rinse and spit, they unmute to reassure their orange-haired friend.

“Hey, don’t worry about me too much, alright. I’m doing fine. Sure, I may not be taking breaks like I probably should, but I’m not wearing myself to the bone either. I rest plenty, trust me.”

“…”

“Sonia?” (Y/n) hears her sigh over the line.

             “I believe you. It’s just that it’s kinda hard to keep a good work-life balance. Just wanna make sure you’re keeping it level.”

             “It’s as level as I can possibly make it.” They chirp before making a smug face. It’s clear that Sonia has something else to say. The undercurrent of her worried words are heartwarming, and (Y/n) dramatically press their hands over their heart in reverence.

              “You looove me,” they tease to which Sonia stutters a laugh.

             “Oh, hush,” the laughter they share eventually dies down into a comfortable quiet.

             “Well. I’m gonna turn in for the day. Talk to you later.”

             “Yeah. Talk to you later.”

Ending the call, (Y/n) promptly shuffles through their luggage for an outfit. Keeping it plain and simple they decide on a cozy white sweater and some black trousers before changing. In no more than five minutes they’ve grabbed their trainer bag and key card before heading out the door.

Meanwhile, after the line had cut Sonia slowly brought the barrel brush she held down her hair. As she continued to brush she takes a glance at herself in the mirror. A mildly forlorn look shone in her emerald eyes her brows twinged emphasizing her sadness. She wished she could say it—that she missed them. After they had left seven years ago it felt like their friendship had slowly chipped away, not just with her but also with Leon. Though, she supposed that the three growing older and separating to pursue their own endeavors would make that inevitable. Still, traveling the world without so much as an occasional visit left the ginger to question more apart from what she already questioned. Lost in her thoughts, she feels a tiny pressure around her ankle. Looking down, Sonia sees Yamper staring at her head tilted to one side with a concerned look. Sighing, she shakes her head and reaches down to pet the little electric type.

“Sonia, dear. We’ll be leaving soon.” She hears Magnolia outside of her room. Taking a deep breath, she lifts herself from in front of her vanity grabbing the grey clips and placing them on her loose pony before heading to the kitchen. She’d need to eat something for the long day she had ahead of her.

                Hop leisurely eats a muffin as he eyes his Rotom Phone. He had been waiting for (Y/n)’s message ever since he woke up this morning and was beginning to grow impatient. Though he trusted them to remember to notify him, so he stayed put.

“Hey.” His older brother’s voice draws Hop’s attention away from his phone. Leon was dressed in the usual battle tower attire as he takes a seat at the table across from him.

“You said you’d tell who gifted me these,” he grasps the Key and Mega Stones in hand. “A Key Stone and Mega Stone—very rare items to come across. Items highly sought after by skilled trainers, with most being possessed by the elite.”

“Ah. So, you do know what they are.”

“I almost didn’t remember. I likely wouldn’t if it weren’t for the books at my desk. Now, spill. Who gave you these?”

Before the younger can answer, Rotom Phone impedes his vision showing a new text had been received.

‘Morning, Hopscotch! On the way to Mag’s and Sonia’s. Don’t wait up!’

A bright smile shines on the teen’s face dismissing his device. Leon raises a brow. Whatever Hop saw on his phone has him super chipper.

“Well! When I was on my way to the lab yesterday, I was met with a surprise visit.” Amber eyes stare into his own as Leon silently urges him to continue. Hop takes in an excited breath of air.

“It was (Y/n)! They were in Wedgehurst last night and—”

“What?!” Leon exclaims. The ex-champion is out of his seat with an expression of both surprise and disbelief. After seven years of travel, they finally make their return to Galar? A surprise visit? Nobody was given any prior knowledge of this happening? It took Hop to be at the right place at the right time to meet with them?

“So that’s why you returned home late!?”

“Yeah! They gave me the Stones to give to you and told me not to tell until today. Sorry not sorry.” Giving a shrug, Hop recognizes the blank look that has since replaced his brother’s shock. It was easy to determine that the news he received had him thinking, reminiscing, and questioning. Yet, the younger doesn’t give Lee any room to get lost in his mind. With a push of the shoulder, Hop brings Leon from his subconscious.

“Lighten up a little. I’m sure you have a lot to catch up on but standing here isn’t going to help you.”

Having a lot to catch up on was an understatement. Perhaps it was foolish of him to think that (Y/n)’s travels wouldn’t stretch over such a long time span. Regardless he couldn’t help but miss them. Despite the occasional talks they would have with each other, their conversations were often short-lived. The man couldn’t help but to feel guilty about this. Being champion at the time was no easy feat; taking on heavy-handed tasks and putting on a smile for the people of Galar kept him busy—more than he’d like to admit. As they both became adults, it was clear that (Y/n) too had grown busy in their own regard. Listening to them speak about different regional cultures, the sights to see, the food to eat, the pokémon to meet, the events to partake, and their League experiences was something Leon took great joy in doing. Those calls have since been very few and far between. So, what happened? What new journeys had they taken throughout the time they hadn’t spoken? What new accomplishments had they made that he hasn’t yet been told about?

Running a hand through his hair with one hand he uses his other to grab the pokéball of his trusty Charizard before letting him out. With a firm roar, his companion gives an expectant look, having heard the conversation completely.

“We won’t be going very far. (Y/n) had yet to meet with Sonia and Professor Magnolia, so they’re on their way to their house.” Hop shows Leon the notification on his Rotom Phone. It’s proof enough to have the older on his way out the door.

“Then, that’s where we’re headed. Let’s fly,” he makes haste. The younger is at his heels chewing the remainder of his morning snack as they exit.

  The walk down Route Two was a rather slow one. (Y/n) had expected to get to their destination some time ago, but the nostalgia of traveling down the familiar path enticed them to lag. Some things just didn’t change; same trees, same bushes, same patches of tall grass, same gigantic lake. 50 years could pass, and nature would remain—a nice prospect to think about. (Y/n) could feel Poppy grow restless in his pokéball, so they move to release him. The Venusaur takes in his surroundings just as (Y/n) did and releases a joyful grunt.

“Man! All the memories are flooding in. It’s insane!” The trainer gives Poppy a pat on the head. “We’d train here all the time. Sonia would teach us about type advantages and we’d all practice how to throw a pokéball.”

Continuing forward (Y/n) makes out the familiar layout of a battle pitch before eyeing the house that resided behind it. (Y/n) could hardly contain their excitement and raced ahead and rapping their knuckles against the study door. They could faintly hear movement within the building.

             “I’ll get it,” the voice was no doubt their friend’s. They can’t help the megawatt smile that rapidly grows on their face. The ginger woman opens the door with a rather blank look, though her expression changes quickly upon finding out who it is. Her green eyes are wide—bewildered; she had halted in chewing the apple that she had in hand and stares. Seconds pass before (Y/n) casts a glance at their starter.

             “Poppy, I think I broke Son—” they are quickly cut off by a warm and strangling embrace. Was Sonia always physically strong, or was this just a special occasion? Giving a small laugh and returning the hug. It was so great to see their childhood friend again.

             “If you take this long to come back again, I’ll kill you,” she cries. The words are muffled by their sweater as she cries on their shoulder her embrace getting tighter. The sound of light footsteps behind the embrace draws their attention.

“What is all the fuss about, Sonia?” They both hear the professor query, viewing her granddaughter hold (Y/n) close. It isn’t until the veteran cranes their neck to show their face more clearly that the elder notices. An expression of surprise shows before it is quickly replaced with something softer and more welcoming. “Oh my, if it isn’t (Y/n)! Welcome back, my dear.”

“Hey-yo, Mags! How’s everything?”

“All is well, my dear.”

             Sonia had since released them from their hug, but not a moment passes before (Y/n) hears additional footsteps. The sound of feet on pavement was rapid as if somebody, or in this case somebodies, were running. Hearing shouts of their name, they turn around to face the culprits. Taking Sonia’s hand, they exuberantly wave down the path upon seeing Hop and Leon. The younger makes it to the two first, bringing them into another hug. The group of three becomes four a second later as the older joins completing the embrace. In contrast to the cool autumn wind that wafted throughout, the cozy warmth of having everyone huddled together was perfect. (E/c) glance at the ex-champion, his head laid atop theirs as their height allowed it. He looked comfy—relaxed; a rare expression for him to have and (Y/n) couldn’t help but feel touched to catch him like this. Giving the man a slight nudge, his eyes crack open to peek downward. Golden eyes meld into (e/c) as they playfully wink at him with a playful smile. Leon lets out a small laugh as he shakes his head. It’s nice to note that their vibrancy remains in full swing even after all this time.

“Ah, what a sight to see. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen you all together in one place.” Magnolia’s reminiscent words pull the quad’s attention. “You were all so young and now have grown into fine adults.” With a hum, the elder looks to her granddaughter.

             “It’d be foolish to think you’d want to be in the lab upon (Y/n)’s return, no?” Of course, the ginger shakes her head at this. Magnolia chuckles. The group separates from their hug.

             “In that case, before you get settled make it known that the office will be vacant for the time being.” Turning her attention to Leon she quickly notices that he was already on his own phone telling Rotom to notify the Battle Tower staff that he’d be out for the day. While they were doing that, (Y/n) busied herself with giving Charizard friendly scratches behind the horns. The fire-flying type grunts before bumping his snout on (Y/n)’s nose; an action that he’d adopted starting when he was a Charmeleon. (Y/n) lets out a startled laugh, they forgot about this behavior, but it was a sign of recognition, nonetheless.

             “Been watching over everyone just fine?” Charizard gives a proud nod in affirmation. 

“Good.”

***********

There's so much more that I wanted to add to this part, but I ultimately decided to cut it and move it over to chapter two. It would have gotten too long otherwise.

Also, just a word of note: If at any point do I use 'he' or 'she' in reference to (Y/n), please notify me so I may correct it as soon as I can. I want to keep this fic gender-neutral.

#pokemon #fanfiction #champion leon #x reader #leon x reader #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon swsh #pokemon hop #pokemon sonia #professor magnolia #galar

[mysaldate]

(UM seduction methods anon here) Im in awe over how much you write for so many character, every day! Do you have any hc on how they live? (where they live? living conditions?) BUT please dont push yourself or anything either!

Thank you so much for worrying about me! I’m simply trying to do my very best for all of you! And thank you also for such wonderful and original requests!

The living conditions of the Upper Moons headcanons

Daki&Gyuutaro

This one will be short since we know quite a lot about them. They’ve lived in the red lights district for their whole lives. In the streets and usually with little more than just their clothes on but they had each other.

They stayed in even after they became a demons. No surprise, there’s plenty of food and nobody will really care if a couple girls disappears.

They don’t have separate rooms of course. These two are literally inseparable so of course they wouldn’t bother with something like that. There’s nobody to tease them about it either since people are not aware of there even being two of them and as for their fellow demons, those just don’t care. Except maybe for Douma but he wouldn’t tease them about it.

We got to see their room so there’s not much to be said about the decorations either. Daki is a stylish girl and she likes to show it off even in the way she sets up their room – even if nobody much gets to see it.

Kaigaku

He never really had much of a home per say. He became an orphan at a young age (if he wasn’t abandoned as a baby already) and then was chased out of Gyomei’s temple as well. Jigoro took him in but unfortunately enough, that relationship didn’t really work out either. Strangely enough, he felt most at home when he was outside, travelling from one mission to another.

After he became a demon, he stayed with Kokushibou for a short period of time but that was just before Muzan approved of his existence. After that, he had to find his own territory – which wasn’t really too hard anyway. He picked a run-down old house as his shelter from the sun for the day but he didn’t really care much how it looked, at least not at first.

It’s not that he wouldn’t like company but there’s not really anyone to share his place with. Humans wouldn’t hang out with him, other demons literally can’t. Other Upper Moons won’t.

He first didn’t care at all how the place looked but after some time, he decided that since he didn’t have anything to do during the day anyway, he could at least try to decorate the place a bit. So while the sun is up, he does little things inside, like sweeping the floors or painting the walls. He even learnt to sew to make curtains. And at night, when he’s not out hunting, he does other reparations. Even he is surprised by how much fun he can have, giving the place a personal touch.

Gyokko

Being an artist, it’s not unlikely that he lived in an open, arid room before he became a demon. Lots of sunlight too. And occassionally, a companion or two but those never really stuck around for long. His place was filled with various unfinished art pieces.

Now that he’s a demon, he can’t have the luxury of a sunny appartment. His pots, however, work as a little pocket dimension so that’s an upgrade? Of sorts? It doesn’t really have a set shape either, it’s a little bit like Nakime’s Infinity Fortress but shapeless, like the walls are made of water or another liquid and constantly change form.

He lives with plenty of goldfish. The entire place is nearly filled with aquariums of various shapes and forms. You know how people make mazes for hamsters, guinea pigs or even cats? Well, those are nothing when compared to the lengths Gyokko goes to for his fishies. It’s not just glass, coloured or plain, either. Sometimes he would use the nichirin blades or pretty hairpieces of his victims’ to decorate the elaborate fishtanks as well. If a human ever strays in, it’s the last thing they say.

Gyokko LOVES decoration. Aside from his fishtanks, he has numerous statues, paintings and just about everything else you can think of. Both handmade and stolen. For his handmade art, he usually uses bodies or bodyparts of his victims, possibly their blood too. It serves both as an artpiece and a food reserve just in case he ever gets to a position where he’s forced to starve. Surprisingly enough, his pots are great at preserving things. Oh, and let’s not forget about the amount of detail he puts to the exterior of his pots! 

Hantengu

Back when he was a human, he didn’t really have a home, naturally. He couldn’t afford it. And most people wouldn’t let him stay more than one night, chasing him out often with sticks and stones. He had to travel all the time and preferably somewhere far away where the rumors about him didn’t reach yet. Due to this, he becomes restless when he has to spend a long time in one place.

Now, as a demon, he also doesn’t stay in one place all the time. He usually sneaks in a house, kills the family and stays there for a few days before moving on to the next one. Some of his other personalities, namely Sekido and Karaku, find this a little useless and bothersome but they wouldn’t really fight him on it.

Speaking of whom, his other personalities split when they have time to be alone as well, taking care of him and the house. It’s a great way to keep him safe as well since at least one of them is always on guard for possible intruders. They get along... somewhat well. There are the usual conflicts between Sekido and the others. Karaku is careless about their cover, Yoroko likes to make pranks on them and Aizetsu tends to lock himself in his room for hours on end. Poor Sekido is left with the task of housework, making sure they don’t get discovered too soon, acting as the voice of reason... and he still has to go out hunting and stay on guard when it’s his turn.

Yoroko likes decorating stuff and Karaku loves to watch him but their taste is strange to everyone but them. Surprisingly enough, Hantengu as well as Aizetsu both can actually create rather beautiful tapestries and Zohakuten sometimes paints when Sekido is just too done with the three useless dorks.

Nakime

She used to be your typical hikikomori. Nakime spent all her time in her room, with nothing but a pile of books and her biwa. It wasn’t a big room either. While her room did have windows, she prefered them covered and read in the light of an oil lamp. As expected, it wasn’t too good for her eyes...

She lives in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress now. A place she can fully control and knows everything about, one that bends to her will and where she can transport anyone anywhere at any time, just as she wants. The only exception seems to be Muzan who comes and goes as he sees fit (at least until the current arc but y’all already know how I feel about that). It’s not that she minds it, she still knows where and when he enters and leaves and even if she didn’t, it’s not like he would ambush and kill her for no reason (right?).

Despite providing rooms specifically suited for the Upper Moons, she much enjoys her solitude. Even when they’re in and she has to keep an eye on them (I’m sorry, I’ll stop with the puns now), she keeps her distance. Try to annoy her, or even just seek her company, and you will mercilessly get thrown out. An exception, again, is Muzan. He doesn’t live there with  her though and only seeks her out when he has work for her to do.

Decoration of the rooms varies greatly, mostly based on what are they used for. Most of the Fortress is not decorated since Nakime sees no reason to waste time and effort on that. However, there are special parts that deserve special attention. Just as an example, there’s Muzan’s upside-down lab, Douma’s lotus pond, that traditional japanese area Kokushibou first appeared in... And of course, the execution platform that’s now decorated with the red of the Lower Moons’ blood.

Akaza

Again, we have a very good canon idea about his life as a human. First living with his father and then spending some time in the streets, he eventually ended up staying at Keizo’s house, taking care of Koyuki. He had his own room there too but it didn’t really matter because he spent most of his time by Koyuki’s side anyway. Rumor has it he dragged his futon to her once when she was having a nightmare and never moved out until she got all better.

He’s pretty much a street rat as of now, looking for challenges and new foes to fight for the most part. During the days, he usually stays still outside, in dense forests or deep caves. He’s not particularly picky. Sometimes he stays there during the night too, setting up a campfire and waiting for someone to wander close. For some reason, he doesn’t really like cities, especially during the festival season.

So yeah, he lives alone. At least usually he does. It’s not all that rare for Douma to find and bother visit him. He doesn’t want company. Getting attached would make him weak. The more people you care about, the easier it is to take advantage of you.

The only thing he cultivates in his surroundings is his own body. No, I’m not talking about the tattoos, though those certainly are a decoration as well. Rather, it’s his muscles and strength. However, he still prefers to have some manners over raw power, hence why he keeps refusing Douma’s more than generous offers to hunt down some girls together even if that could make him stronger.

Douma

Grew up in the temple in the forest. High up on a mountain overlooking a small town, it’s not a place with the most access to society. But cults are usually like that. When he was about three years old, his father planted two magnolia trees in the courtyard so that the place is a little more lively and the trees can grow tall to provide lots of shade in summer since the sun could be quite annoying. If only he knew...

Loyal as he is, Douma stays at the temple even now. He had it expanded a little and even had a lotus pond build right behind his room so he can calm his thoughts at least a bit after every session. He used to need it more than he does now, especially since he now also has the one made by Nakime that is way better and more spacious.

Canonically, there is at least one temple servant staying with Douma at the temple. But honestly, it wouldn’t be quite like him to satisfy himself with a single person. There’s probably a number of people taking care of the place, both temple servants and maidens. They also serve as a source of entertainment and possibly even as a last-resort snack just in case. There also used to be Kotoha and Inosuke for a short period of time but well...

While he is quite childish and it might sound just like him to go overboard with decorating stuff, that’s not entirely true. Really, the most he has is the skull closet with engraved golden door. That and the pot in which he planted Kotoha’s head but that one is a gift from Gyokko so it doesn’t really count.

Kokushibou

As with most of them, we were blessed with enough info on Kokushibou’s, or rather Michikatsu’s, homes. Growing up a samurai, he never had time to spare, little to no friends and a bride who was most likely found for him without him having any say in it, it’s really not that much of a surprise he would elect to leave it all behind and become a demon slayer since it gave him significantly more freedom.

Even as a demon, not much have changed. During the day, he stays at a mansion like the samurai lord he is, and at night, he goes out to hunt down the pests in the area, more often than not treating himself with a bountiful feast while he’s at it. He also has a room in the Infinity Fortress but like the majority of the Upper Moon demons (actually everyone but Douma), he enjoys his solitude way more.

He has a few servants at the mansion. Ones that get replaced every once in a while when they mysteriously disappear. But the salary is high enough to let any major rumors die out in a blink (I know, I promised, I’m sorry) so the most he has to deal with are whispers about him overworking his servants to the point where they rather abandon the money and run away under the cloak of the night.

You would probably find the house eerily plain but he’s used to it. The backyard is where he spends most of his time aside from his room and those two are the only actually decorated places in the house. And they’re still kept neat and practical for the most part. He rarely has anything that wouldn’t serve a purpose, both when it comes to items and people.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny imagines #kny headcanons #upper moons #upper demon moons #daki #kny daki #gyuutarou #kny gyuutarou #kaigaku #gyokko #hantengu #sekido #aizetsu #karaku #yoroko #zohakuten #nakime #akaza #kny akaza #douma #kny douma #kokushibou #michikatsu tsugikuni

[thatesqcrush]

Mr. In Between, Ch. 2

Rafael Barba x Reader. Slight mentions of Rafael Barba x Olivia Benson. Prompt inspired by @sweetsummertime99: “ I was watching friends and it was the episode where Ross writes the pro/con list for Rachel and Emily. I’d like to see if someone would write the same kind of scenario not with a waitress but other attributes. Rafael Barba x Female Reader where Rafael writes the list and the reader finds it. Possibly comparing to Olivia?”

CW: all the angst. Language (lots of F-bombs!).

Tags: @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 @garturbo @southern-magnolia @niyashell @tropes-and-tales @imjustreallynosy @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @sweetsummertime99 @evee87 @scarletsoldierrr @kscarlett1 @cesarofangirl78 - anyone else just ask.

Rafael slowly trudged his way back into the apartment. After shutting the door with a soft click, he dropped himself onto his black leather couch. He slumped forward, his shoulders weighed with the guilt he felt. He replayed the earlier evening’s events over in his mind as he rubbed his now weary face with his hands.

You curled against Rafael’s chest, sweaty and out of breath from your amorous activities. Your bodies were a tangle of limbs intertwined in the deep aubergine sheets that covered Rafael’s bed.

Rafael pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead before he pulled away. “I am going to get a glass of water; do you want anything?”

“No,” you replied, sitting up fully, the sheets half covering you. Rafael made his way to the kitchen, getting a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser.

“So,” Rafael called out, “There is an American Gothic exhibit at the Whitney opening this weekend. Want to go and grab brunch at Santina afterwards?”

You didn’t reply. Rafael furrowed his brow and made his way back into the bedroom, but you weren’t there. “Y/N?” he called out once more, half expecting you to call out from the master bathroom.

“What the fuck is this Rafi?”

Rafael almost jumped at the sound of your voice from behind. He turned around and saw you emerge from his study.

His eyes narrowed to the large white item in your hand.

“Why do you have my iPad?” Rafael questioned, his voice dangerously low.

“I wanted to get on your WiFi and you had given me you password last time but this time I forgot it,” you explained. “I’ll ask again, what the fuck is this?”

Before Rafael could even speak any further, you continued, your voice becoming more and more angry with each subsequent word. “Because it looks like a fucking pros and cons list about me and Olivia!”

Rafael felt his heart drop into his stomach and he swallowed hard. “It’s not what you think, I swear.”

“What I think, is that you’re an asshole,” you spat, before marching into the bedroom. You threw the iPad onto the bed and began gathering your clothes. You began to rattle the “cons” off of the list as you got dressed.

“Clingy/desperate; not always the best listener; a vapid narcissist when she drinks. My personal favorite: just a secretary. Shall I go on?”

You were so angry, Rafael could tell you were shaking; he had never seen you this angry before. You hooked your bra, and then slipped on your dress as you continued. “And then with Olivia? There was hardly anything! Oh, wait - just one: she makes me take on cases I shouldn’t - bleeding heart. Oh, poor Olivia!” you mocked with your hand over your heart.

Shoes in hand, you stormed past Rafael heading towards the living room but he reached over and stopped you. You jerked out of Rafael’s grasp, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, effectively ruining your eye makeup. “Imagine the worst things you think about yourself. How would you feel if the person you wanted to be with most in the world not only thinks them too, but actually uses them as reasons not to be with you?”

“You don’t understand... in spite of all of those things, I want to be with you. I -” Rafael stammered, flustered.

“Oh goody!” you continued to mock, clapping your hands. “I should be so damn flattered.”

“God fucking damnit Y/N, if you could just stop and sit down, we could talk about this like the adults we are,” Rafael snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, nobody’s perfect.”

“Don't you try your fucking platitudes with me, Rafael,” you spat back. “And you’ve made it very fucking clear that I am not perfect. But it seems that Olivia sure is. So go back to her.”

By this point you were openly sobbing in front of Rafael. Rafael felt awful. He had never had any intention for you to find that list; in fact, he had forgotten he had even written it at all. He had written it during a drunken bender when you first initially started dating.

“Please, lets just sit and talk. Let me go find some pants and I can explain,” Rafael sighed. You nodded and sat on the couch; a half beat later, you slipped on your shoes.

Rafael walked back into the bedroom and grabbed his pants. He walked back into the living room but you weren’t there.

“Y/N?” Rafael called out once more. He noticed the door was open. “Shit!”

He rushed to the open door and heard the ding the elevator down the hall announcing its arrival. You stepped in, and saw Rafael’s head poking out from his door. “Y/N!” Rafael shouted as you frantically pressed the button to close the door.

Rafael dashed back into his apartment looking for shoes to slip on before he dashed back out, and thundered down the stairwell. He wasn’t sure if he’d catch up with you but he knew he owed it to himself to try.

**

Rafael dialed your number repeatedly but your phone went straight to voicemail each time. He tried to text you but there was no response.

Despite being exhausted beyond measure, Rafael poured himself a scotch from bar cart. He swallowed the drink in one gulp, before pouring himself another. His emotions got the best of him and after finishing the second drink, he threw the glass at the wall in frustration.

The glass shattered upon impact, shards littered the hardwood floor. “Way to go,” Rafael grumbled to himself.

After cleaning up the literal mess he had created, Rafael collapsed into his bed. His stomach churned with unease. He had hoped he would be able to clean the other mess he had made.

**

You scrubbed the makeup off your face, your eyes swollen and red. You looked terrible; you felt even worse. Now dressed in sweats and an over-sized t-shirt, you made your way towards your bedroom.

You spotted the gown you had worn, and you tucked it into the Rent the Runway garment bag so that you could return it the following morning.

Your phone buzzed repeatedly on your nightstand and you could see it was Rafael calling.

You hit decline each time. A text message subsequently popped up.

{Rafael, 1:30 AM}: Talk to me, please.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to ignore Rafael for now and turned off your phone completely. Sobs wracked your body the second your head hit the pillow.

***

Rafael woke up the next morning, to the sound of his phone buzzing. He rubbed his eyes before grabbing his phone. His heart began to race as he saw that he had a message from you.

{Y/N, 6:30 AM}: Rafael, you can’t unthink a thought. It’s either there or it’s not. So, it doesn’t matter what you say, or what you do Rafael. I thought I had clear, open eyes on what we were. Everything has changed. Forever. Lose my number.

TBC...

#my fics #my writing #rafael barba and reader #barba and reader #rafael barba fanfic #barba x reader #rafael barba x reader

[amehanaaa]

How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days

Second to last chapter, woot woot! June seriously went by too fast. Nobody can stop her.

I honestly would like to do Nalu Week next week, but honestly, I have no inspiration to do anything right now... soo, I’ll update y’all on what’s going on lol.

Anyway, I hope you all have been having a grand time reading this story! See you next time with the final chapter! (Also can be read here.)

Chapter 8 – Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 Words: 4630 Summary: Lucy and Natsu are determined to take the necessary steps to fulfill their lifetime dreams. Little do they know, they have both given themselves 10 days to achieve it.

It’s an out-of-body experience for Lucy to say goodbye to Natsu’s family the next morning. She makes sure that she doesn’t say see you later or make any future plans with them. As Grandeeny gives her one last hug, Lucy tries her best to hang onto the feeling of her gentle warmth.

As they settle onto the bike, she finds the family waving from the front door.

“Thank you for everything!” she calls out.

Natsu pretends to grab all the kisses that Wendy blows to him. “See you guys soon!”

Lucy physically has to tear her eyes away from the house as they drive away. A pit in her stomach is beginning to develop again.

Today is their ninth day together.

Again, she is thankful for the deafening wind as they return to central Magnolia. She desperately wants everything about the experiment to just go into the trash; she wants to pretend like it wasn’t happening in the first place.

And yet, there is still a sentiment inside of her that won’t allow her to come clean.

Soon enough, the streets become narrower and Lucy starts to recognize street names again. The skyscrapers come into view—they’ve officially returned to the city and the reality of their lives.

“Want to get breakfast?” Natsu suggests as they stop at an intersection.

“I should probably get back,” she admits. She senses his shoulders slump, but she ignores it.

“Well, I know of another good place we can go to next time,” he responds.

Lucy swallows thickly, a knot forming in her throat. In reality, next time doesn’t seem too promising after tomorrow. She feels as though the knot is going to leap out of her mouth as he brings her to her apartment complex.

“I’d say our quality time was definitely a success,” Natsu says.

Once he parks, Lucy hops off the bike and hurriedly makes her way up the front steps.

“Hey, wait up,” he tells her as he shifts the gears into park.

Lucy stops after the first set of stairs. She turns around to see him following after her. He stands at a few stairs below her, which makes their heights match.

“I have to go to the station for a bit.” Natsu takes her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “But you should come to my place tonight.”

“Okay,” she nods, not wanting to talk about tomorrow just yet.

“And tomorrow,” he adds. “Fairy Tail is going to have live music and free food. We should go.”

Lucy has to hold back her wince, but she also notices there’s an unfamiliar tone in his voice. For the first time ever, it sounds like he is nervous.

“Okay, let’s go together,” she responds.

Natsu notices a shadow of sadness in her voice. He braces himself for what he has prepared to say next. He squeezes her hands in his.

“I want you to come with me as my girlfriend.”

An unexpected smile forms onto Lucy’s lips. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?”

Natsu can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Tomorrow will be the tenth day that we have been seeing each other, right?” she mentions.

There’s a pang in both of their chests at her words. Neither of them can figure out why there are obvious swirls of emotions in each other’s eyes.

“Maybe after tomorrow, we’ll know,” Lucy eventually states. “I have to run some errands today, but I’ll try to stop by your place.”

Before Natsu can get out any words, she gives him a kiss on the cheek. With that, she spins around and hastily enters the building.

Natsu watches her for a few moments, but doesn’t hesitate to take out his phone. He texts Gray that he needs to talk to him as soon as possible.

Not allowing herself to look back, Lucy’s palms immediately begin to sweat as she enters the elevator. She can’t stop herself from impatiently tapping her foot.

While rushing into her apartment, she releases a loud sigh. She presses her back against the door and shuts her eyes. Perhaps if she does this long enough, the heaviness in her chest would lessen. When she opens her eyes again, she is met with a curious-eyed Levy standing right in front of her.

“Levy, don’t scare me like that!” Lucy proclaims, placing a hand over her heart. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Enough to hear all your weird mumblings,” Levy replies with now gleaming eyes. “How did these past two days go?”

“Terrible,” Lucy responds with another sigh. She pushes herself off the door and slumps onto the couch. “It was terribly perfect.”

“Tell me everything!” Levy exclaims, jumping onto the couch with her.

Lucy runs a hand through her hair. She bites her lip as she processes her thoughts—the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes going to Natsu’s home really was perfect. There isn’t anything that went wrong these past two days.

“I’m going to try and repeal my article,” Lucy blurts out.

Levy gapes at her, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you sure your boss will let you?”  

“I’m going to try,” Lucy says firmly. “I can’t do this article anymore. It’s going to drive me crazy.”

Levy stares at her friend. She can’t stop herself from asking the obvious. “Do you think you’ve fallen for Natsu?” she asks quietly.

Lucy freezes, not being able to look up at Levy. Instead, all she can muster up is a slow nod. Another lump forms in her throat. The weight of the assignment used to settle in her stomach, then her chest, and now it’s in her throat.

“We’re going to get through this, Lu,” Levy assures her gently.

“H-How?” Lucy questions with a trembling voice. “If Natsu finds out about the article, he won’t want to see me again.”

Levy stays silent at her words. Whether they want to admit it or not, it’s a guarantee that it won’t settle well with Natsu. And as strange as it sounds to say, they don’t know him well enough to predict how he will react.

“My shift starts soon,” Levy eventually speaks again. She stands up from the couch. “What are you going to do now?”

“Natsu wants me to go to his apartment later,” Lucy responds, running her hand through her hair again. “Should I go?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Levy raises a brow. “Spend the time you have left together.”

Now that Lucy can see the ticking clock of their relationship, she realizes how important it is to cherish these final hours with him. She wants to make sure this final night together is worth it.

Once Levy leaves for work, Lucy absentmindedly sits on the couch for several moments. To kill some time, she opens her laptop and stares at her nine days’ worth of notes. She skims through them, hardly believing that she acted this way.

“Why did he stick with me for so long?” Lucy mumbles to herself.

It isn’t until she reads her last few notes when she notices Igneel’s words. She scrolls up to Laxus and what he said. Then, she ends with Makarov revealing that Natsu was invested into the relationship by bringing her to Fairy Tail.

Suddenly, it clicks—the reason why Natsu is so patient with her is that he is committed to her. After suppressing the idea for so long, it slaps Lucy in the face.

Now that her feelings have been added into the mix, she can’t figure out who is going to get hurt the most after all of this.

But she knows the power of a draft. With newfound determination, Lucy types out several scenarios of how tomorrow can go. She isn’t expecting to have at least twenty different scenarios, but it seems like there’s a pattern after each one she writes.

“Maybe this will work,” Lucy mumbles to herself.

She jolts in her spot when she receives a text from Natsu, much earlier than she would have liked to. A sense of panic slowly builds up inside of her every minute. Although she wants to run over to his apartment, she wants to disappear at the same time.

“I’ll bring dinner for us,” she texts him back.

With her plans for tomorrow imprinted in her mind, she gets ready to leave. She stops at a nearby convenience store, purchasing a few instant yakisoba bowls that Natsu snacked on last night. Because she was listening so intently to Grandeeny and Igneel, she didn’t get the chance to try them. She can definitely say it smelled delicious and hot. Just in case, she buys the non-spicy yakisoba for herself.

Lucy knocks on Natsu’s door as she arrives. Her eyes widen when Gray opens the door instead.

“Hi,” he says stiffly, stepping out of the way so she can come inside.

“Hey, Gray,” Lucy replies with a smile.

For some reason, she doesn’t feel as intimidated by him this time. By the expression on his face, he appears to be processing something else. However, what concerns Lucy most is Natsu’s expression.

“Is everything okay?” she asks curiously.

“We were just talking about some stuff.” He pauses, noticing how vague his words sound. “Gray took care of the cat while I was gone, so he was telling me about it.”

Although he sends her a gentle smile, there’s a glimpse of a frown on his lips.

“I’m going to head out now,” Gray states while putting on his shoes.

“You can stay,” Lucy assures him. “I brought over some instant yakisoba.”

“The same yakisoba I ate last night?” Natsu perks up. As Lucy takes out a bowl from the plastic bag, he cracks a grin.

“Sorry, Ice Princess, you can’t stay,” Natsu jumps up from the couch. “Those are just for me and her.”

“Ice Princess?” Lucy laughs out while watching him shove Gray out of the apartment. Once Gray is outside enough to be pushed out by closing the door, Natsu immediately reaches for one of the bowls.

“These are my favorite, Luce. Thanks for buying them.” He smoothly peels the sealed top and fills the bowl with water.

“Do you like them that much?” she asks with amusement as he eagerly pushes the microwave buttons.

“Imagine 16 year old me eating these every time I came back from school,” he responds. “Now imagine that in college, too.”

“College?” she repeats in disbelief. “What makes them so special?”

“They’re probably the spiciest noodles you can buy for a reasonable price,” he explains simply. “Igneel is the only other person I know that can finish a bowl.”

Lucy purses her lips skeptically. She can handle spicy food every once in a while, so she wonders if the yakisoba won’t be as aggressive as the label suggests. She takes a step closer to Natsu when he takes the bowl out of the microwave.

“Do you think you can handle it?” he smirks.

“Let me try,” she replies. Grabbing her pair of chopsticks, she picks up a few strands of noodles.

Her breath is immediately caught in her throat the second they land on her tongue. She coughs loudly, patting her chest at the sudden burn.

“I’ve never seen someone react like that!” Natsu howls out, placing a hand on the counter to hold himself up. “That was hilarious!”

“These are unnecessarily hot!” Lucy proclaims as she quickly swallows them. Her tongue is numb as she hastily pours a cup of milk. Even though they were only a few noodles, she feels as though she can breathe out fire from all the heat.

“They’re not meant for the average,” he remarks. Without a second thought, he slurps on an endless stream of noodles.

“Never again,” she shakes her head. “I’m going to stick with teriyaki.”  

It isn’t long until the couple are sitting at the dining table, enjoying their savory bowls. Natsu is in the midst of his second bowl when their cat joins them at the table.

“Have you given him a name yet?” Lucy asks.

“I haven’t,” he realizes aloud. “I’ve never had a pet before. What are some common names?”

“People like to name their pets after emotions,” she replies with a shrug

“How about Sleepy?” he suggests. “He likes to sleep a lot.”

“He doesn’t look like a Sleepy!” she protests, causing Natsu to frown. “Think deeper.”

Natsu gives out a thoughtful hum. His eyes light up when he has a suggestion. “How does Happy sound?”

“That sounds perfect,” Lucy grins. “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“I underestimated the power of a cat,” he admits. “When I go to sleep, he always likes to lie next to me.”

“Aw,” she giggles while reaching over to pet Happy behind the ears.

Tummies full, they comfortably sit back on the couch and flip through some TV channels. Although they have done this plenty of times, Lucy can’t help but feel bittersweet about it. Her chest aches knowing that this will be the last time they spend time together like this.

She glances at him, not being able to hold back her laugh. He lifts a curious brow.

“The yakisoba stained your lips,” she points out. “They’re bright red.”

“That’s when you know the noodles worked.” He smirks at her as he edges forward. “Maybe it’ll be like lipstick if I kiss you.”

“No way!” she exclaims.

She puts her hands out in front of her to prevent him from getting closer, but Natsu hovers over her enough to grasp her arms and hold them down. He leans down and goes for her neck, leaving a light trail of kisses.

Lucy doesn’t bother to resist—even if his lips leave a mark, they’re too addicting to fight back. She can feel the quick pulse in her neck match the pace of his kisses. If her arms weren’t pinned down, she would keep him there forever.

His hold becomes looser as he travels up her neck and to her lips. She slides out of his grip to bring her hands into his hair and gently twirl her fingers through his curls.

There is still a sense of heat on his lips; it��s just enough for her to taste it all. Despite this, their kisses feel fresher than ever. It’s as though their lips have familiarized enough to where they’re reminded of how sweet it is when together.

As their bodies feel to be sinking further into the couch, neither of them take it a step further. Lucy can’t bring herself to start a moment that will cause more long-term damage than temporary satisfaction.

Natsu, on the other hand, hums against her lips before slowly pulling away. She leans back to connect eyes with him. In that moment, as they gaze at each other with hooded eyelids, she is ready to tell him everything.

His breaths say that he wouldn’t get angry, his eyes say that he would understand, his lips say that everything will be okay.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Lucy asks carefully.

They begin to shift on the couch, picking themselves up and sitting to face each other. As she takes in Natsu’s serious expression, she wonders if this was what Gray and him were talking about earlier before she interrupted. It couldn’t just be about Gray checking up on Happy, it must have been deeper than that.

“Would you ever move away from Magnolia?” Natsu asks abruptly.

Lucy pauses. “I might if I had a reason to.”

“What if I was your reason?”

She lets out a laugh to mask her surprise. “Why would you be leaving Magnolia?”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m serious. What if we moved away from Magnolia together?”

The levelness of his voice is slightly intimidating, but she tries to ignore it. “Well, right now I don’t have a reason to,” she answers hesitantly. “But I’ll think about it if the time comes.”

“Okay, think about it,” he responds with a nod. “Just in case.”

“Okay.” She gives him a subtle smile, hoping that it hides the fact that stress is currently building up inside of her.

“I just really needed to get that off my chest,” he admits with a heavy sigh. “Thanks, Luce.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” she slightly stutters. “Any time.”

Now if only she could stay those words to herself. She doesn’t want Natsu to get his hopes up for her and their future together. She knows that he wouldn’t if she just came clean already, but she can’t form the words in her mouth.

“It doesn’t look like the yakisoba stained your lips,” he remarks.

“Maybe we should try again,” she suggests.

They don’t hesitate to lean forward and kiss again. In each other’s arms like this, neither of them would want to be anywhere else.

Meanwhile, Lucy ignores the fact that it’s already past midnight and her final hours with Natsu are dwindling by the second. This is the only temporary satisfaction she is willing to accept.

                                                 ——————–

As soon as Lucy wakes up the next morning, her body is on autopilot mode. She moves automatically, as though she has rehearsed every step she is going to make today.

The tenth day is finally here.

Whatever happens today, she is ready for it. But knowing that tonight has the potential of becoming a disaster, Lucy can hardly focus on her surroundings. She has to keep a continuous thought stream of self-encouragements or she is going fall apart.

However, the moment she enters her work building, she remembers her mission. Even though she doesn’t have a scheduled appointment, she walks straight into Erza’s office with a chin held high.

“Good morning, Lucy. How is everything?” Erza asks.

“I can’t do this article anymore,” Lucy states firmly.

Erza looks up from her desk, holding a poker face. “What did you say?”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Lucy tries to recollect her thoughts.

“The guy I met, I’ve gotten to know him really well, and—”

“Lucy,” Erza interrupts her sternly. “You are writing the article and that’s final. Your story is already going to be on the cover of the magazine.”

Lucy can’t even imagine how happy those words would have made her if she heard them a week ago. Now, they mean nothing to her.

“Erza, I can’t—”

“But you will. Because you’re a professional journalist, remember?”

Lucy swallows in defeat. All of the scenarios she practiced turned into a two minute, one-sided conversation.

“Yes… I guess I am a professional.”

“I expect the final draft tomorrow morning,” Erza instructs her.

Due to an incoming office call, Lucy has no choice but to leave. Although she doesn’t need to be at work today, she finds herself sinking into her desk chair.

“You don’t look so hot,” Cana says at the neighboring desk, examining her for a moment. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“A disaster,” Lucy mutters. She rubs her eyes, secretly wishing that when she opened them everything would be okay. “I’m going to come clean to Natsu about the article tonight.”

“What?” Cana blurts out incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“This isn’t fair for him,” Lucy sighs out. “He deserves to know what I did before the article gets published.”

“There’s a chance he may not even read the article,” Cana tries to convince her. “Lucy, I think you’re making a mistake.”

Cana’s words are enough for Lucy to feel sick. Right now, Cana is no different from Erza. Not being able to take it anymore, she stands up from her seat.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Lucy tells her shortly before walking away.

She has only taken a step outside when she calls Levy. Impatience bubbles up inside of her after she is sent to voicemail. There is no way that she can be by herself right now, so she doesn’t hesitate to head towards the bakery.

“Levy!” Lucy nearly shouts as she enters the bakery.

Normally, Levy is standing at the front counter with a friendly smile. Today, however, there is no one at the counter.

“Levy?” Lucy asks, softer this time. “Is anyone here?”

She can’t fight her curiosity, allowing it to guide her footsteps. She slowly pushes the door to the back of the bakery while peeking her head in.

Lucy gasps as she catches Levy pressed against a wall, lips smashing against Gajeel’s. Lucy’s noise causes them to promptly jerk away from each other and look at her with wild eyes.

“L-Lu!” Levy squeaks, wiping a hand over her mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Only employees are allowed in the back,” Gajeel says roughly. Although his voice is harsh, he appears just as flustered as Levy.

“There was no one here when I came,” Lucy counters.

“I was showing her the supplies we’re running out of,” Gajeel explains simply.

“Right,” Lucy replies with an exaggerated nod. “Well, I guess you showed her plenty.”

“Lucy!” Levy proclaims in disbelief. “Just go to the front. I’ll be out in a second.”

Lucy decides to follow her friend’s instruction, returning to the front of the bakery. She stands at the counter and waits for Levy to return. When she does, her darkened cheeks and swollen lips are obvious.

“Is it bad?” Levy whispers, viewing her reflection from the windows and fixing her hair.

“Your hair or making out with your boss while you’re working?” Lucy clarifies.

“Hey!” Levy gapes at her. “What’s up with you? You’re normally not that blunt.”

Lucy sighs while fixing her hair as well. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not feeling too good right now.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to tell Natsu?” Levy asks.

“I’m going to tell him everything,” Lucy reveals with an uneven voice.

Levy gives her friend a sympathetic smile. “It’s going to be hard, but you can do it. I support you, alright?”

There’s a subtle sense of relief inside Lucy, which is enough for now. “Thanks. I tried talking to Erza about the article, but she’s forcing me to publish it.”

“She said you would be recognized for it, right?” Levy questions.

“The article is going to be on the front cover,” Lucy replies, although her voice clearly shows it doesn’t have the same value anymore.

“I’ll be here for you,” Levy assures her gently.

“Me too.” Gajeel joins Levy at the counter. “Who do I need to beat up for you, Lucy?”

Lucy’s phone buzzes with a text from Natsu. She opens it to a picture of the suit he’ll be wearing tonight. With another heavy sigh, she puts her phone back into her pocket.

“It’s me, Gajeel,” Lucy mutters while turning to leave the bakery. “You’re going to have to beat me up.”

Hearing Levy speak out multiple encouragements for tonight, Lucy goes back to her apartment to get dressed for tonight. She isn’t sure how to prepare for a disaster that is predicted to be an entire catastrophe, but the only way to find out is by just going for it.

After getting dressed, there is nothing Lucy has dread more than going to Natsu’s apartment. Her heart skips a beat each time she tries to think of the apologies she wants to tell him. To avoid a heart attack, she decides she is going to wing it.

At the same time, everything hurts.

From the shoes she puts on, because of how her heart will be after all of this, and arriving to Natsu’s apartment building—everything just hurts.

Lucy grips onto the illegally copied key to his apartment as she stands in front of the door. The key is the last item she has of him. Once she gives it back, she truly has no reason to see him again.

Lucy takes several deep breaths to brace herself. There’s no way she will ever feel ready, so she forces herself to insert the key and unlock the door. She quietly opens it, hearing Gray’s voice inside.

“But you did it! I’m so proud of you for finishing the bet. I’ve already shared your name with some of my coworkers.”

Lucy’s body is frozen at his words. Instantly, everything starts connecting in her mind. Natsu wasn’t committed to the relationship—he was committed to a bet.

Outraged is an understatement. Lucy is furious. She clenches her jaw, debating whether it’d be a smart decision to barge inside and demand for answers. But the aching in her chest is too much to ignore. Dropping the key on the floor, she slams the door.

Natsu and Gray jump at the sudden noise. They look at one another as they realize what just happened.

“Natsu, I’m so sorry—”

Natsu doesn’t bother to let Gray finish as he immediately darts out of his apartment. He finds Lucy storming away and pressing the button to the elevator.

“Lucy, hold on,” he tells her.

She whips around, not missing a beat. “You used me so you could get your name spread?”

“You drove me insane for your magazine?” Natsu shoots back.

They stand there for a few moments, both fuming. As they try to recollect their thoughts, they recognize how much they’ve equally blighted each other.

“Gray told you,” Lucy says plainly.

“Yeah, and how I was just some ten-day experiment.”

“And I’m just some girl you picked at random?”

“That doesn’t even compare,” Natsu argues sharply. “I was someone you tested your theories on. Was that why you agreed to meet my grandparents? Was this all just some fantasy story for you?”

Lucy blankly stares at him, knowing that he is aware of how much pain those words could inflict. And how they did.

“Well,” she begins, pressing the elevator button again. “Some kind of friend you have who knew both of our intentions.”

“What are you talking about?” he demands.

“Gray knew everything since the second day. Ask him about it, if it even matters to you.”

The elevator slides open. Lucy steps inside and presses her back against the wall. As they connect eyes, her heart splits into two uneven pieces. She could have never prepared to see the hurt expression on his face.

“Congrats,” Natsu begins while the elevator closes. “Now you know how to lose a guy in ten days.”

Natsu stares at the closed doors, tearing his eyes away before he sees his reflection. He wipes his damp hands across his pants as he returns to his apartment. There, he finds Gray pacing across the living room. Gray turns to him with frantic eyes.

“You knew,” Natsu accuses him before he can say anything. “How long did you know Lucy was using me?”

“I was going to tell you—”

“Did you just want to see me suffer? Did you enjoy seeing me get taken advantage of?”

“That wasn’t my intention, let me—”

“Just go.” Natsu tells him firmly while rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “I can’t talk to you right now. Give me space.”

Natsu doesn’t watch Gray leave the apartment. Instead, he focuses on holding Happy in his lap as they fall onto the couch.

Natsu’s thoughts are an endless carousel as he connects the pieces to why Lucy was so exhausting throughout their time together. Although that doesn’t explain to him her abrupt shift at his grandparents’ house, he can’t believe that both of them sabotaged each other enough to cause all of this pain towards each other.

“Were you a part of the plan, too?” Natsu mumbles.

Happy meows in response, which brings him to give out a heavy sigh. Everything happened so fast, his body is just now catching up.

And everything just hurts.

#fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu #nalu fanfiction #my writing #wow #time flies #too fast!!!!! #thanks for reading

[y-the-youthful]

Chapter Five

Yoriko sets the house up for Halloween and finally confronts the Ouija board. Sorry this took so long to get to, especially considering Halloween has fled us!

It was the day of Halloween, and everything had been set accordingly. As it had been a Thursday, classes were still running and most of the children were in their classes while she and the other workers set up the various Halloween decorations. There would be no guizers, considering their location, but it was designed more for the entertainment of the children and to add festivities to an otherwise bleak time of the year that would only grow darker and grimmer.

With the shawl wrapped around her shoulders, a knot tied in the front so she would not have to constantly rewrap it at the slightest movement, she was free to adjust every pumpkin and light every candle. She had gone through the effort of making sure that every space was covered in some form, and it was with an almost compulsive touch that leaves from the forest were scattered perfectly along edges for an extra touch. Fairy lights were dotted along window frames, and fallen pinecones littered the areas she thought it best. The house smelled faintly of cinnamon and she was proud of it.

“They may say whatever they wish about you, but you certainly go all out, Miss Kaneshiro.” Beatrice had abandoned her muted black skirts for a witch’s costume with an added hat for an extra punch, tying an orange ribbon along its base.

“I do my best.” She responded, although her smile was faint rather than with its usual enthusiasm. Beatrice noticed, as she so often did, and her smile faded just as quick.

“Have they found the culprit yet?” She shook her head.

It had been three days since the incident, and Yoriko had been moved from A’s former room to her old one until they managed to fix what had been done.

“I understand the children can be creative, but I did not take them for sadists. How would they even come across such information?” Her hands were on her hips, and Yoriko knew that she was being angry for her rather than trying to make her uncomfortable, but Yoriko did not look her way and gave no indication that she was listening at all.

The experience had unsettled her on many levels. Even if such information was available, it was sickening in its disturbance how such a thing could be done where she was certain she had upset no one. Even if it were possible to set up the room in such a time, it left chills down her spine to think that anyone would feel the need to do such a thing at all.

However, it was not possible to arrange the room in such a record speed of fifteen minutes, and it was not possible to garner information on what the crime scene had looked like and, indeed, that Yoriko had seen any of it at all, because her records had been destroyed in a fire. If not for the fact that it had been Mr. Ruvie and Mr. Wammy that had found her on the doorstep, they would not have known she was a former candidate at all.

‘I still feel like I am going to throw up.’ She had been feeling nauseous since she had regained consciousness, and her usual teas would not ease the pit in her stomach that she was certain to be dread. Being still was uncomfortable, and the unpleasant sensation of being observed had not faded but had instead grown stronger.

Even then, as she was finishing off the decorations with Beatrice at her side, she could feel eager eyes watching her every moment. She could feel the weight of its stare pressing down into her very skull, and her headaches had been growing worse due to her unease.

“Perhaps you should rest, Miss Kaneshiro, you have been sleeping even less than usual recently.” There was little denying it. With the disturbed bedroom just next door to her, it was nearly impossible for her to relax. The door remained shut, and yet she knew someone was on the other side. She would hear creaking in the attic above her, and she was becoming increasingly aware of a feeling of smallness in the mansion.

‘Did I feel like this when I was a candidate?’ The incident had brought forth some buried memories, and she could not deny that the feeling was there. A feeling of being insignificant, of being worth nothing at all. Nothing but a test, only worth acknowledging when she won.

“Perhaps that is best. I did say I would ask for a vacation from Mr. Ruvie…”

“I’ll let him know you are sleeping. If anyone causes trouble, feel free to chase them away with the umbrella again.” A brief smile appeared on Yoriko’s face. It had only happened once, but there had been a man harassing some of the older girls while they were in town; they had not known she was there, but they certainly never forgot her since.

Her old room had not changed from when she had abandoned it at seventeen. It had been shared with her brother, with the bunkbed still firmly in place. Old pictures and plans were still taped to the walls that were still a faded magnolia. Her old clothes still hung in the wardrobe, and there was still a distinct feeling of wrongness about it. The wrongness of the house when she lived in it, and the wrongness within herself and her brother both turned disturbed by it. Him more so than her, and she was certain that he was still doing terrible things in America. A beast loose in the wild with no limitations now that she was gone.

They could not find any of her clothing in the changed room. They could find nothing of hers at all, and they were trying to find the key to the attic to confirm whether her stuff had been moved there. As a result, she was wearing childhood clothes.

She did not dress in a particular fashion, although she would appropriately say that they were designed more for her brother’s comfort than her own for he made a determined effort to dress exactly like her no matter the price. It had become extremely distressing for him when he started to grow taller than her.

“If I could, I would not wear these.” She pulled on the striped pyjama shorts and button up shirt. They exposed too much flesh for her liking, certainly with enough scars now to make her look more violent than she intended, and they were bright enough that she would be noticed immediately if she stepped outside the room. To try and ease her discomfort, she pulled on a pair of long wool stockings, hoping to cover what she could. It did little to comfort her. “I should like to give the person that did such a thing to me a firm talking to.”

If not to tell them not to do such a dreaded thing again, then at least to try and understand why they would do it at all. She was certain that she got along with all of the children in the house, and as far as she knew there was no hostility between her and the other workers.

‘And what they did with the living room is just as unsettling…’

Yoriko did not like to think on such things. With it came thoughts of what lay underneath, what she could not see or understand with her existing knowledge of the world. Nobody felt comfortable with their foundations being shook, and she rubbed at her chilled arms before crawling into the bed. It was more barren than her original bed, and more difficult to sleep in.

Sleep did not come to her. Either it was because of how bright it was, or because of the continued unsettled nature about her, but in the end, she lifted herself from the bed and stared dully at the room before her. There was nothing visibly watching her, but the feeling did not leave.

She glanced at her carpet bag. The Ouija board still rested inside, hidden from view but so clear in her mind. It whispered, soothing her into the notion of using it, of trying to grasp at a world she had no understanding of.

‘Or perhaps to confirm that I am losing my mind once again.’ She padded over to the carpet bag and pulled out the board. It had been made from plywood that had been painted over in black paint and polished to prevent chipping. The writing was bold so there was no mistaking what letter the planchette was sitting on.

She had been given a list of instructions to follow by the antique owner, although she had not seen him put the lined paper into her bag and was surprised when she first saw it, carefully unfolding it.

‘If the planchette makes a figure of eight shape or starts counting down the letters or numbers, bring the planchette to goodbye and end the session. Do not leave the planchette on the board. Always end a session with goodbye…’

Yoriko was embarrassed to admit that she had played with a Ouija board before shortly after A’s death. She had gone into the attic to use it, and C had followed her, but she did not believe what she had experience then and she doubted she anything would happen then; she was certain C had been playing a trick on her.

‘Well, I am alone so if anything is to happen I shall know it to be no one’s fault but my own.’ Or the other individual holding the planchette, whoever they may me. She shook her head thoroughly, dismissing the thought. ‘You are here to settle your own paranoias and finally sleep.’ She scolded herself as she settled down in her old chair, the wood creaking under her weight.

With the Ouija board and the planchette set in front of her, she rested her hands on the piece of wood and braced herself to speak.

“My name is Yoriko, do you know who I am?”

#Wammy's House #headcanons #Oh honey you should know you never play alone

[fantasyandromancelover]

The Tale of Tales Chapter 9

At the end of the dance Natsu and Lucy sneaked away on to the balcony outside to watch the starry night sky.

"Beautiful night isn't it?" Lucy said.

"Oh it's gorgeous." He said looking directly at her while paying no attention to the sky.

"If you don't mind me asking your highness what brings you to Fiore?"

"My brother was hoping to marry me off to Princess Juvia."

"Well that makes sense. After all there is no one more beautiful than her."

"I don't know. I can think of someone more beautiful."

"Well you've never even seen her."

"Don't need to because right now I'm looking at the prettiest girl in the world."

Lucy blushed.

"Surely you don't mean me?"

"And what if I do?"

"Your highness I am flattered by your words but I'm not the kind of woman you think I am."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I told you that I was no one important? That was just some little nobody?"

"That's ridiculous. You are not some nobody."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew who I was."

"I'm sure that I would and I'll prove it to you. Just tell me who you are."

Suddenly Lucy heard the clock chime. Looking at it she saw that it was ten minutes til twelve. Almost midnight. At once Lucy remembered Levy's warning and panicked.

"Oh my goodness!" She gasped.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"It's almost midnight."

"So it is."

"Goodbye!" She said starting to leave.

"No wait you can't leave yet." He said grabbing her hand.

"No please I must."

"But why?"

"I...I can't explain. Goodbye!" She broke away from him and headed for the ballroom.

"Wait! Come back! Please come back! I don't even know your name how will I find you?"

"I really must go now!"

"But wait! When can I see you again?"

"Never!"

"Never?!"

"Please it would be best if you forgot me completely!"

"What?!"

"Thank you for the wonderful evening! I'll never forget this as long as I live!" She called before disappearing into the crowd of dancers.

"No wait! Stop! Please stop!"

Natsu chased after Lucy as she ran away, desperately trying to catch her but found it very hard to keep up with her due to all the other dancers getting in the way. Lucy ran as fast as her legs could go. She ran through the ballroom, up the stairs, down the corridor, and toward the castle doors. As she was going down the flight of stairs at the entrance she tripped and dropped something. In her haste to get away she left it there, got on her horse, and rode off into the night.

By the time Natsu finally got through the sea of guests and made it to where his mystery woman had fled she was no where in sight. Completely vanished, leaving no trace behind. No, no there was something. While Natsu was walking down the stairway something glittering caught his eye. It was a slipper made of pure gold that had been left discarded on the last step.

"I must find that girl." He vowed. "I swear that I will."

From her bedchamber Minerva was spying on Natsu and feeling rather pleased. Perhaps this mystery woman in gold didn't pose as much as a threat as she had feared but right now she had bigger fish to fry. The next morning she summoned Rogue to her chambers for a private chat.

"You wanted to see me your majesty." He said.

"Yes. Rogue would you say that you are my most loyal servant?"

"Yes your majesty."

"Then I have a job for you. I want you to take Juvia into the forest and kill her."

"Kill her?!" Rogue cried not sure that he heard her correctly.

"Yes tell her that I've decided to send her to live among the Magnolia village to humble her then at night when the moon rises take her deep into the forest where no one can hear her scream and feed her to the wolves."

"But why?"

"She is a threat to everything."

"But your majesty the little princess would never harm anyone. Surely there must be some mistake." Rogue protested.

"Silence! My mirror has told me all about that vile girl's hatred of me and her plan to steal the throne! She must be destroyed!"

"I don't trust that mirror your majesty and neither should you."

"Not another word! Do as you are told or suffer!"

"Yes your majesty." He reluctantly agreed.

...

Juvia was up in her bedroom once again humming to herself while doing her needlework. She stopped when she saw a bluebird fall from the castle roof tops and land on her window sill. She opened the window and gently picked up the fallen bird.

"Poor thing. What's wrong? Did you slip on the ice?" She gently brushed the birds feathers with her fingers. "Oh you'll be alright. Look your sweetheart is over there waiting for you."

She pointed over to the bluebird sitting on the branch of a tree watching them.

"Why don't you go join him?" The bird seemed too frightened to fly again. "Oh don't be afraid. You'll be alright, now go on. Don't keep him waiting."

The bird then leapt from her hand and flew away with her mate. Juvia sighed as she watched the two birds fly away together. Sometimes she wished that she was a bird then she could fly away from this castle she had been isolated in and go somewhere much happier.

"Your highness." Rogue said standing at her door.

"Oh Rogue I didn't see you there."

"The queen has ordered that you go live in the Magnolia village."

"Why?"

"She says it's to teach you humility. Now we must hurry."

"Alright just give me a moment to pack a few things."

She took a suitcase from her wardrobe and filled it with a hairbrush, her needlework and knitting supplies, and some of her clothing. Among them was her mother's gown and slippers. Once her bag was packed she went with Rogue into the forest. By the time they arrived there it was already dark. The sky was so black you couldn't even see the stars. All you could see was the moon.

"Rogue do you think it was wise of us to travel by night fall?"

Rogue didn't answer.

"Rogue did you hear me?"

Still no response.

"Rogue what's going on? Why aren't you speaking to me? Rogue I'm frightened please answer me!"

But he didn't. Then he startled the young woman by grabbing her hands and jerking her through the woods.

"Rogue what are you doing?! Let me go! I want to go home! I order you to take me home!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"The queen has deemed you a traitor to the crown and now you must be fed to the wolves!"

"What?! Rogue you can't!"

"I have no choice."

"But I've done no wrong Rogue! You know that! Please don't do this!"

Rogue only continued to drag her along while preparing to carry out the Queen's demand only to abandon all thought of it when Juvia looked at him with those blue eyes filled with tears of betrayal. He remembered when she was just a little girl and she had asked him to come play in the royal gardens with her. Suddenly he too began to cry.

"Forgive me!" He wept at her feet. "I beg you your highness! Forgive me for even considering such an evil deed!"

"Is this what happened to my father? Did my stepmother order you to bring him out here and kill him as well?"

"Your father was a good man. He was always very kind to me and while I do not know what became of him I will not murder his child! Run far away from here as fast as you can! Take the route up head! The wolves never go there so you'll be safe but you must never come back! Now run beautiful girl! Run!"

"Thank you."

She kissed his cheek and began to run. She ran over sharp stones and through thorns and while wild beasts did run past her they did her no harm. She ran as long as her feet would go until she saw a little cottage. Using the last of her strength she ran to the cottage and knocked on the door. The door had just barely started to open when she passed out on to the forest floor from exhaustion.

#fairy tail #fairy tail au #fairy tales #lucy heartfilia #natsu dragneel #natsu x lucy #fairy tail nalu #nalu #juvia loxar #brothers grimm #cinderella #snow white #fanfic #fanfiction

[diego--cruz]

Maybe It’s Time | Self-Para

Maybe it's time to let the old ways die Maybe it's time to let the old ways die It takes a lot to change a man Hell, it takes a lot to try Maybe it's time to let the old ways die -- Nobody speaks to God these days Nobody speaks to God these days I'd like to think he's looking down and laughing at our ways Nobody speaks to God these days -- Maybe it's time to let the old ways die Maybe it's time to let the old ways die It takes a lot to change your plans And a train to change your mind Maybe it's time to let the old ways die Oh, maybe it's time to let the old ways die (x)

[tagging: @marinalisbon @saskiabishop @mini-matthis @sodapopscott @tessa-lisbon @perriecruz @nadinedahl ]

There were several moments in Diego’s twenty-four years of life that he already knew would stay with him forever. The nights his parents died still stuck in the front of his mind, the memory of the call, the way he and had run all the way to the hospital. He remembered the sight of his brother in the hospital bed, all the uncertainty and rage and sadness that was rising up in him then. The loss felt like someone had ripped his heart out and put it on display. And now, despite his best efforts, today was going to be another one of those days. 

When Saskia asked him if he was ready, he nodded and stepped outside, grateful to find Marina there waiting for him. They hadn’t said much to each other over the past few days, just tried to show up for each other physically and when he told her what he was going to do, it felt the slightest bit easier when she said she’d be there. With his hand in hers, he walked slowly into the meeting room, swallowing down his emotions, not wanting to seem as frantic and as crazed as he seemed. He hadn’t slept, had barely eaten and there was nothing in the world that could shut his mind off. 

But he had kept thinking about his conversation with Nadine. About the look in her eye when she asked him to beg, the joy that she would feel at seeing the sight. And he had been angry, out of his mind with hurt and anger over his brother and Tessa. But after thinking about it for hours and hours, he kept coming back to the same point. Nadine wanted his power. She wanted to see him lose, she wanted to take from him until he had no more. And the more he thought about that, the more he realized that there was only one choice to make. He had to give up whatever power he had, remove himself of anything useful to Nadine and step away from something he had wanted for the majority of his life. 

All that could be heard in the room was the sound of people clearing their throats or shifting in their seats, the clicking of news cameras filling most of the silence as the lights slightly blinded Diego as he got to the podium to speak. He kissed Marina’s cheek softly before dropping her hand and flipping open the speech that he had prepared with Saskia and Mini. He ran his fingers over the pages before he cleared his throat. 

“Thank you all for being here today, especially on such short notice. Before I start, I want to thank my team and everyone who has put time and effort into my time in office. I especially want to thank Saskia Bishop for being the absolute best chief of staff a person could have, truly, I could have not asked for anything better,” he said and glanced at her before looking over at Mini. “And Mini Matthis, who without I would not have the courage to stand so tall today. I want to thank all of my supporters and I want to thank Marina,” he said and paused to look at her, “for allowing me to be me and for standing by me today. I will never be able to repay you.” He kept her gaze a little longer before he looked back at the cameras. 

“As many of you know, recently my brother Perrie was involved in a car accident. The sheriff’s office discovered that his brakes were cut. Some of you who have been in the media for a while may recall that this is not the first time my brother has been hospitalized for a car accident. The last time took my parents life.” He paused and wiped a hand over his mouth before continuing. “Along with my brother, there was a fire that occurred at Magnolia’s which left Tessa Lisbon in critical condition. I’ve seen a lot of stories going around, I’ve had a lot of calls and though I am almost certain that I know the person who caused all of this, I am not here to talk about them, I’m here to acknowledge that there has been a direct attack on the people I love.” 

In his original speech, Diego had spent three paragraphs tearing up Nadine but just before they left the hospital this morning, he had deleted it, having a moment of clarity in the car over. He was beaten, he was hurt and sad but he was still Diego Cruz. And he was tired of playing her game, of fighting fire with fire. It had been his mistake from the jump with her and he was tired of repeating it. 

“I’ve thought about this a lot in the past few days and it’s occurred to me that there is really only one choice left for me to make. Though when I really, truly, think about it. It’s not a choice. I love this office, I love being Mayor and damn do I love this town. It’s my home, it’s where all the best and worst things have happened to me, it’s my community in which I only wish to help succeed. Being Mayor has been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember. I can still feel the excitement that I felt on the night I won, I can still see all the face in the crowd and I am forever indebted to the enormous amount of young folks who came out to vote for me.” His words made him pause, feeling his eyes start to tear up before he cleared his throat and swallowed it down, not wanting them to see any tears from him today. 

“But what I have learned this year is that I do not need this office to be a change agent and to do everything I can to make this town better. It will be my life’s work to make the world around me better. It is my civic duty and my responsibility as a citizen of this country and as a member of this community, to give back and to be the best I can be for the people around me. This office, this title, will never, ever be more important to me than my family and the people I love. And it has become clear to me that holding this office has done nothing but bring harm and anger to my family and to so many people in my community.”

Diego took a deep breath and stared at the lines on his paper, feeling like all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted his parents more than anything. In this moment, Diego truly felt how young he was and how old life had made him feel. He ran a hand over his face for a moment before continuing, lifting his head slowly. 

“That is why, effective immediately, I will be resigning from my position as Mayor of Rosewood.” 

The words almost caught in his throat, not wanting to utter them, not wanting to admit that his dream had fallen apart, that the one thing in his life that seemed to work was being taken away. He listened to the gasps in the crowd and the increase of reporters typing on their phones before he continued. “It is with great sadness and regret that I announce my resignation but I know that in the end, it will be the right decision.” Or so he hoped. 

“I don’t know yet what will become of this office but I do know that in the short time I served, we did some great things in this town. I will still do everything I can to make sure that school on the south side gets finish being built, I will still do everything i can to make sure that students are getting the resources they need not just academically but mentally and emotionally, I will still do everything I can to make sure that this community, this town, embraces change and hope and progress. I will never stop being of service to my community and I will never stop fighting for what is right. I will dedicate my life to this.” 

“If I could say one more thing while I have the stage and the mic and the title for a few more seconds,” he paused and took a breath before looking right into the cameras. “Perrie, Scott, I love you. You are the most important people in my world and I am so sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise. I promise to be a better man and a better brother, Lo prometo.” He cleared his throat again and shut the binder with his speech closed. 

“Thank you for the opportunity to serve this town, it will forever be one of the greatest honors of my life, no matter how short lived. To any young person watching, I want you to know that there is so much out there for you, so much you have to offer the world. Don’t let anyone stifle or erase your truth. I plan on doing the same. Thank you all for your time, god bless and don’t forget to vote on November 6th.”

Diego nodded and waved at the crowd hurling questions at him but he instead took a step back, looked at them one more time before sliding his hand back into Marina’s and leaving the stage, uncertain of what his life was about to become but hoping that eventually it would become less painful. 

#sp #self para #maybe it's time

[carryonmywaywardcaptain]

Magnolias in the Country

Masterlist

WC: 1,690

Warnings: angst

A/N: Dean x reader One Shot. I’ve been looking for fics about Dean based on Thomas Rhett’s song “Marry Me.” (Listen to it. It’s SO GOOD and so Dean) I haven’t had much luck, so I decided to write my own. Song lyrics in bold, current events in regular font, flashbacks in italics.

.

.

She wants to get married, she wants it perfect

She wants her grandaddy preaching the service

Yeah, she wants magnolias out in the country

Not too many people, save her daddy some money

 Ooh, she got it all planned out

Yeah, I can see it all right now

Dean took a long pull from his bottle of whiskey before placing it back in the trunk. Slamming it shut, he rested his hands on the impala. He let his eyes fall closed and bowed his head as he took a deep breath.

“You ever think about that kind of stuff? You know…falling in love, having a wedding, living happily ever after…” She trailed off.

She had grown tired of being cooped up in the bunker doing research, and somehow managed to talk him into seeing some chick flick at the theater. Now they were parked in a field they frequented for late night star-gazing, talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

“Nah. I don’t think any of that exists in our line of duty, sweetheart.” He hesitated. “Why? Do you ever think about that sort of thing?”

“All the time. I’ve had my wedding planned out for years,” Y/N said with a proud grin.

Dean scoffed. “Aren’t you missing an important part? Oh, I don’t know, like a guy?”

“Minor details,” she giggled, making her way to the back of the impala to retrieve the bottle of whiskey he always kept in the trunk. He watched her thoughtfully, knowing there wasn’t a sound in the world he loved more than her laugh. She took a long swig and passed the bottle to him before continuing. “I want to have my wedding out in the country somewhere. Beautiful rolling hill scenery, magnolias, pictures at sunset. Only our closest friends and family…something to make everyone forget about all the bad things in the world for a little while. Simple and perfect.”

I remember the night when I almost kissed her

Yeah, I kinda freaked out, we'd been friends for forever

And I always wondered if she felt the same way

When I got the invite, I knew it was too late

Sam cleared his throat. “You ready?”

Dean opened his eyes, glaring at his reflection in the impala. He patted the breast pocket of his suit to make sure his flask and present were still safely tucked away. Without looking at Sam, he turned and began making his way to the elegantly decorated barn. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

Dean was silent as he returned his gaze to the stars. She sighed. “You think it’s stupid—“

“No,” Dean cut her off. “It, uh, it actually sounds nice. Just...”

“Just what?” She asked.

“Just trying to figure out what the hell a magnolia is.”

Y/N doubled over on the hood laughing. She smacked his shoulder and snatched the bottle again. “It’s a flower, you jerk.”

Dean smiled. He could picture the scene she described, but he couldn’t imagine her looking any more perfect than she did right now. The soft moonlight glowed on her face and seemed to amplify her innocence as she looked back up at the stars.

She didn’t deserve this life. She deserved a happily ever after like the movie they’d just seen. Despite his reservations, Dean had been struggling with his growing desire to tell her exactly how he felt about her for months now. He opened his mouth to speak, but she broke the silence first.

“So…” Y/N turned back to him with a nervous smile. “I wanted to ask a favor of you when we get back. It’s stupid really… but I have this date tomorrow and I was wondering if you could help me pick out something to wear. I figure with you being a guy and my best friend, you’d be twice as helpful.”

Dean looked away, deciding that now would be his only chance to confess how he felt about her. He looked at her again with every intention of kissing her, but when he saw the hopefulness in her eyes, his resolve broke. He gave her a tight smile and nodded.

And I know, her daddy's been dreading this day

Oh, but he don't know he ain't the only one giving her away

Roses decorated the reception tables and rustic lights hung from the ceiling. Picture frames on a corner table memorialized loved ones who had passed too soon, and hand-painted signs informed guests that the ceremony would be out back.

Dean paused as he and Sam made their way through the building, surrounded by pictures of Y/N smiling and posing with her soon-to-be husband. He felt like he was suffocating. “Hey, I, uh… I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Grab us a seat in the back, Sammy. I’ll meet you out there in a sec.”

Sam gave his brother an understanding nod and made his way outside to find some seats.

Dean slipped into the bathroom, withdrawing the flask to take another long sip. He clenched his jaw, trying to focus on the burning in his throat instead of the piercing sensation in his chest.  He took one last shot before returning the container to his pocket.

I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back

I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask

I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees

Yes, she wanna get married

But she don't wanna marry me

The grass on the hills swayed in the gentle breeze and the sky was just barely beginning to set. He knew that by the time the ceremony was over it would be a perfect backdrop for the pictures she’d always dreamed of.

He stared inattentively toward the groom as the wedding party made their way to the altar. He barely noticed when the music changed, but Sam nudged his shoulder, signaling that it was time for him to rise from his chair.

When Dean turned, there she was. She looked flawless in her white dress and even more perfect than she had on the night he’d almost kissed her. Her face lit up when she spotted him, but Dean struggled to return a smile. Her face faltered slightly in concern, but Sam caught her gaze with a reassuring smile and wave.

Dean watched as she made her way down the aisle. He tuned out the ceremony, thinking all the while that it should be him up there with her. That it should be him looking into her eyes, promising to love her until the end of his days.

He felt Sam’s eyes on him when the preacher asked if there were any objections. The silence in those last seconds seemed to weigh on Dean for a lifetime. He desperately wanted to stand up and shout that he loved her. He wanted to run to her, to beg her to be with him instead…but he couldn’t. She had found a normal man and she deserved a chance to have the happily ever after she had always wanted.

So Dean sat in silence as the rings were exchanged. He watched as she was introduced to the crowd with her new name. A last name that would never be his.

But she got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now

I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now

But I ain't gonna mess it up, so I wish her the best now

He thought about bolting the second the ceremony was over, but he knew he couldn’t do that to her. He sat unmoving in his seat next to Sam until all of the guests had filtered back toward the barn to congratulate the newlyweds. Sam patted Dean on the back, indicating they should probably do the same.

Dean fell in line behind the last few guests. He kept his gaze on the ground, the scenery—anywhere but her—until he was next.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” She was ecstatic as she wrapped her arms around Sam. She held him for a moment before letting go to hug Dean.

“You look perfect, sweetheart,” Dean whispered. He closed his eyes and hugged her close, clinging to her as if it was the last time he’d ever see her. He realized quickly that it probably would be. For a moment, everything slipped away and it was just him and Y/N again, like it had been so many times before.

The groom soon cleared his throat and Y/N pulled away. Her eyes were full of questions, and Dean knew that she’d felt the goodbye in his embrace. “We’ll see you guys inside?”

“No…actually we just wanted to tell you congrats before we head out. Always another job, you know.” Dean’s heart broke as he watched her face fall.

Sam made his way to the groom, spinning him around and walking him toward the reception. “Hey, man! Y/N has pretty much been like a sister to me for my entire life. It’s only fair I give you the whole ‘If you hurt her’ speech…” His voice faded as they got further away.

Dean swallowed hard, struggling to keep his feelings at bay. “Anyway. Congrats, Y/N. You look gorgeous. So, uh…it’s not much of a present, but I got you this…for the perfect day and all. Sorry it doesn’t match the ones on the tables or the invitations.”

Y/N reached out slowly to take the flower from his hand. Tears began to fill her eyes.

“A magnolia,” she said softly. She turned the flower gently in her hand, trying to figure out what to say. “Dean…”

When she looked up, she spotted Dean already several yards away. Hands deep in his pockets and head hanging low, he made his way back to the parking lot alone.

So I'm in my black suit, black tie, hiding out in the back

Doing a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask

I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees

Yes, she wanna get married

Yes, she gonna get married

But she ain't gonna marry me…

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#dean x reader #reader x dean #spn reader insert #spn fan fic #spn #spnfamily #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic reader #angst #dean winchester #dean one shot #magnolias in the country

[lubay-nue]

Data Madre

Chapter 9 The flower of oblivion

Cap notes:

I do not know if it is my internet or if it is the page, but I am very slow ... if it were at normal speed I could publish even faster than now, anyway, now if the interesting part starts XD muajaja

To read! The action begins!

chapter 9 The flower of oblivion

-Not fences so fast Nick ... I feel tired yet- he said when he saw that he was already several steps away from him, however, the little one just turned to see him, with that great white and radiant smile, Sans stopped insisting to see that he lost him in the crowd, after all, he was so tired that he could run or activate his powers ... in fact, he was wondering at that moment why he had gone to that place if he was unable to lift a single finger ... ha, of course ... the child

-come, come ... is about to start the story-hear far away, turn his face to his right, in one of the special tents that were throughout the town, Sans could see an old man who had not seen so far , interested, approached, standing behind some children I listen to the old man who looked like a deer, with long white beard and eyes tired but who smiled with gentleness

-Well, welcome to the past- the old man said while his assistant, a little boy with more features of monkey helped to stoke the story that little by little was shown as a fiction story, Sans rolled his eyes a little ... he was not for that kind of fantastic stories, though, what most struck him was seeing that the old man every so often not only claimed that the story was true, but that he himself participated in it ...

Well, Sans was not very gullible, but he had to admit that he was interested in the plot, so he continued to listen carefully, noting each pattern, seeing with a touch of admiration the man who seemed to still have the energy to tell his story any longer.

-and it was only then, that we were able to reach our goal ... the flower of oblivion ... - whispered the old man with a mysterious voice, Sans raised one of his eyes and forgetting that he was in the middle of a story.

-What is supposed to be a flower of oblivion? - I ask. The old price to leave his moment of story to catch the attention of the question, smiling gently, straightened in place and in a more solemn voice began to explain

-the flower of oblivion is a very rare type of flower to find, it seems to be made of crystals and quartz, it looks like a gem that is born from the earth, it is soft like a rose, aromatic like a jasmine, full of life like a magnolia ... But be careful, the flower of forgetfulness has a mind of its own ... if you are not careful, it will erase all your essence and then never again can you be ... you will forget who you are and nobody can help you to return- said the old man, for the little ones, giving the fear of their hearts and that the little ones did not ask more ... however, for Sans ... it seemed that this flower was his true salvation

I wait patient, listening to the story, Sans stayed with me until the story ended and everyone started to go to different places ... and only when he saw him completely alone, he approached the old man again, greeting him once again, that man, he just smiled Like an old man who seemed to know more than he should, sitting down in one place, I invite him to have a cup of tea that Sans could not deny

-Why are you so interested in the flower of oblivion? - Asked the old man to the skeleton that was surprised, the man laughed softly, wanted to look burlesque but a fit of cough assault him breaking his "performance" -you looked very interested in the flower rather than the story itself- the old man said taking his cup of tea, Sans looked away with some discomfort but in the end, giving his explanation

-I'm not from around here, in fact, I come from ... a place called the Underground, a layer below the surface actually- he said, although he was quickly cut by the old man who claimed to "know" Sans let out a small sigh of annoyance but he preferred to continue with his explanation -I have a rather bitter past that I do not want to continue seeing ... after all, there is nobody who really cares ... I prefer not to go back- said

The old man, quietly observed him, each of his features, each of his words, as he said them, what kind of feelings he gave in telling his story ... since he was a little newborn, overwhelmed by what he himself had lived ... I could even see some tears coming from those basins that at times were devoid of life ... or eyes ...

The old man could see that he was not lying in any of his words and maybe, he wished he had lied to him ... what had happened to the boy, was more than any of the inhabitants of those areas had endured before the suicide, the old man kept listening quiet and attentive, until Sans ended his story with his "actuality" and what he lived even in that quiet and gentle town ... the wise could understand the reasons that Sans had to do it, but ... maybe ... and I did not agree very much

-I just want the pain to stop- he asked softly, completely defeated, showing himself so broken and so fragile ... as if it really were necessary to protect him before the world hurt him more than he could already see ...

-haaa ... son, if you do, there is no guarantee that the flower wants to return your memories if in case someone needs you ... not even destroying the flower could recover ... you would lose forever, "said the old man, although he could see the determination of Sans

-I just want to stop being this- the man sighed defeating, nodding and giving directions ... it would show him a way he could take to get to his job, after all, it was not just stories he said ... he really knew the location of the flowers of oblivion

... ... ...

He left the tent and walked more quietly, found himself in the distance with Nick and after having fun a little longer, they finally returned home. That night, although it cost him some work, he was able to rest even until the next day

Once again, at night, he left, this time not because of Gaster's call, but prepared for his new trip, he wanted to apologize to Nick for leaving him alone, even knowing that he would be fine, he could only leave him a note saying he had to follow his path ... and probably would not return again, but he gave thanks for having known them ... Sans really wanted to stay with them, but first he had to erase everything he knew about himself, his past ...

He had to get away from Gaster and Papyrus and if that meant he had to "erase" himself in a different way, different from the one the Data Mother knew how to do ... he would not doubt it ... not if with that, at least they left him alone ... since, although he tried to move away, the bad memories with Gaster and those that he had with his brother, they were tormenting him in nightmares that at times seemed to become a harsh reality ...

He was afraid, he really wondered if it was such a decent idea ... but the more he doubted, his steps advanced and before he knew it, he was closer and closer to arrive with that curious flower ... I doubt one last time, if it was really what he wanted, but finally, even at the cost of his own insecurities, he found himself in a dark place

It was very similar to Waterfall, you could say, that it had reached an equal point, just that there were no flowers or grass or mushrooms ... there were only small fireflies illuminating what appeared to be crystals of many colors ... I walk slowly, seeing everyone sides, looking carefully; the flowers of oblivion like to keep hidden in the depths of the darkness, where fireflies almost do not appear, they like, from time to time, to shine only to attract those that they would destroy in their memories

He sighed tiredly, he had already walked for a long time in reality, he supposed that it was already night because of the little visibility that there was still in that place; He followed another little and his path was cut by a beautiful and very striking flower ...

It was just as the old man had described it in his stories ... it was a very rare flower made of crystals and quartz of different colors, but even so, it was born from the earth, when approaching, out of mere curiosity I caress one of its petals, as soft as a rose, it smelled sweet like jasmine and after touching it, it began to shine even more, it looked full of life like a magnolia

-tu ... have you come to overwrite your future? - I listen, with a soft and elegant voice, similar to that of a woman, but dark and with double intentions ... maybe and the old forgetting to say that it could be dangerous as a hydra poisonous ...

-I know that you can erase my past if you wish- he said calmly, observing her a little bit, caressing hypnotized her petals so soft and moist

-Is it what you want? - asked distrustfully the flower, shining at every word he gave, Sans laughed under his breath, just a little, sitting on the spot, in front of the flower that seemed to follow each of his movements

-Let's see if you're so good at erasing the past of the rude people- he said sarcastically, noticing a snort of anger from the flower

-It's easier if the person does not want to remember again- the flower mocked, Sans laughed more loudly, really amused by what he heard

-very good ... then let's check it ... erase my memories ... make me forget who I am and who I was once- said the very funny, noticing how a dark glow appeared in the depths of that striking flower

-are you sure? If you erase your essence you will never be yours again - said the flower with a darker tone of voice, Sans only smiled as he had not done so much ... with that arrogant and superior form

-Do you think I just came to chat if I was not sure? ... I do not know, I do not like to waste my time- said superior

------------

-Papyrus ... Papyrus! - I hear a scream that came "below" when looking down he meets the human Frisk who calls him, blinks a couple of times and leans a little to see him

-What happens human? Do you need something from the great Papyrus? "He asks with his superior demeanor, noticing that the human nods calmly, even the speaking flower looks at him angrily but does not care, after all, it does not seem like they really get along, not even wearing well with Sans, in fact, now that he thought about it, it seemed that those 2 were avoided as much as possible ...

He thought the idea was strange and even more so, that he thought about it just when it was just 4 days of a new week ... that day, he did not really want to go home and not see a note, something inside told him that he should to resign himself not to see his brother's useless again ... but on the other hand, even if he did not realize it, he always looked for it with his eyes, it did not matter that he went anywhere, he always looked for him ... in the forest, in the surroundings ... Throughout the Underground !! And there was still no trace of him ...

-something strange today- that simple phrase, I do not hear it from the human Frisk ... but from the flower that seemed more pensive and distrustful of the normal, I look at the human who looked just as uncomfortable, as if something bad were going to happen, Papyrus looked around and asked confused

- What is strange today? - Flowey seemed to react to that, beginning to discuss immediately

-If I knew we would have told you a piece of bone without a brain! - He told him, of course, Papyrus did not remain silent and began to respond to his insults, although, Frisk on the other hand, did not stop seeing everywhere, feeling that something bad was going to happen and that, at every moment, it was going to get closer and closer ...

-something ... is not right ... - whispered to Frisk if hugging the shoe where he brought Flowey * Hopefully Sans was here * he lamented in silence

And while everyone was concentrating on Snowdin, on the outskirts of it, quite far from the forest that enveloped them; a portal opened silently, giving way to a gigantic beast of little more than 3 meters high, white as an amalgam but even more deformed, with violet and black spots, leaving a trail completely black and viscous in its path

That creature without a certain form, walked carefully, panting, until you can find the village of Snowdin, watching the movement, a pair of black holes opened at the top, forming eyes that quickly became a crimson ; releasing a powerful roar that made the place vibrate, it became noticeable, jumping in the direction of the people who were there

-----------

A powerful light in colors appeared in front of Sans, who had barely heard the question "ready" from the flower. The strong glow left him blind for a couple of minutes; he even felt dizzy ... but outside of that, he made as much memory as he could ... he even remembered the moment of his birth ... no, he had not forgotten anything ... that flower had scammed him ...

- calm down ... forgetting the past takes time, in less than half an hour you will not know what your name was - the flower mocked -your memories will return if they destroy your center point ... now seek that you can still something that is very close to you, an object or a garment, if it is destroyed, your memories will return, or maybe the person you are trying to forget ... just try to get away now that you can do everything and you will have completely disappeared from existence- the flower mocked, Sans smiled sideways nodding

-If you have gotten me I will remember it- he mocked, getting up, until he felt a terrible pain in the back of his neck. No, it had not been a blow, but an alert that had been activated inside ...

/ Danger, Danger ... potential threat detected ... current location ... Snowdin / heard inside the Data Mother, alarmed, even forgetting what he was doing at that moment, watching the flower that slowly broke like a fragile glass starred, he could not see what else was wrong with him, with the snap of his fingers, the teleportation was instantaneous

He fell to the ground and when he got up, he could see on one of his sides a black road that extended towards his old home, he growled under his breath, but when he took a step, he suddenly felt a strong dizziness, followed by a feeling that he has forgotten something ... how curious ...

Where it was?

Final notes:

Good! We are not far from finally see Sans Classic XD and finally begins some battle so it does not seem completely boring this story XD I ask once again an apology ¬ ¬ the idea to publish several chapters (a minimum of 10, but my computer is super mega slow and I can not move beyond this, sorry)

Did you like it? Have a nice day Comment!

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[chris-carson]

The Economist

Up until that day Arthur had spent his life on one branch of a family tree ripe with independent wealth. When they met, his parents joined their respective fortunes—his father’s from a string of agricultural technology patents and his mother’s from a high profile corporate law practice—to bring him, their only child, into a very comfortable nest. He had a cousin that made a fortune with an app that alerts users that their laundry is dry. One aunt made a fortune ghostwriting bestsellers for entrepreneurial men that, like her son, make apps. His uncle was publisher and editor-in-chief of an iconoclastic political magazine called The Ambiguous Review . Then, of course, there were his grandfathers, on both sides, whom he only ever learned to describe as “businessmen.” Call it a blessing or call it a delusion, but Arthur never thought about money. When he finally attempted to fly the nest he only fluttered softly to the ground like a maple seed, where he sank into reverential daydreams about his own lineage. He wasn't mesmerized by the fortunes, no, but by all the ability, the talent. He was sure that equal, or greater, talent was waiting in him for its moment to flower. It was only a matter of finding the right habitat. After four years of college in San Francisco, and three more years there waiting to blossom, Arthur had relocated to Washington DC, to more fertile ground in which to take root.

The week he arrived, the whole historical DC skyline was erased by a thick gray blizzard that, when finally settled, had buried the eastern seaboard under feet of snow. As the city stalled, trying to clear the streets and dig out the metro stations, Arthur stayed indoors, typing. He was planning on starting a blog about DC, an insider's look at the world’s most powerful city. He wrote a few pieces that he never published. Then as quickly as it came, the snow melted away. From his window Arthur could watch clouds of honking geese push their gracefully rounded weight through the thick, misty air. He watched as people, thawed out of their apartments, made their way back to work. But Arthur had no work to go to. He had a freezer full of bagged food from Trader Joe’s and in between episodes of “House of Cards,” Arthur Isaacs began to worry about his future. Something would have to happen.

And something did happen. Arthur’s publishing uncle called one afternoon to say he had a good friend in DC, an economist named Lev Reissmann. He was the world's foremost expert on Sri Lankan rubber imports. Arthur recognized the name from college when Reissmann came to lecture, Arthur’s sophomore year. After hearing him speak, Arthur changed his major for the third time in two years to study economics. When Arthur learned that his uncle knew Reissmann, not as the wizard that had predicted Myanmar's boom in thumbtack sales, but as Levy, fellow Cub Scout and childhood friend, Arthur saw a chance to make a big connection in a city built on connections, and finally do something for himself.

All Arthur had to do was find P Street and hurry to the meet Reissmann. He was already late, but heading in the right direction now, he walked down a long street. Victorian town houses rose above him on either side, with long thin fronts, the paint faded to colors like soft pastel and red brick faded to orange. They were squeezed together like layers in ancient rocks. The leafless limbs of the magnolia trees lining the street bent arthritically in all directions. Parked along the sidewalk was a steady stream of placid luxury sedans and station wagons. The narrowness of the street made it seem like a dry bone that had shrunk under the heat of time. But with the sun at his back Arthur walked quickly through the whole scene, up to a tall house fronted by thick brown stone steps. There was the  figure of a man standing at the wide window holding a road atlas but gazing past it and onto the street from under a red baseball cap. It was Reissmann.  

The front door was nearly ten feet tall with a big brass door knob and a glinting mail slot. The big front window jutted out from the front of the house and through a thinner pane of glass on the side, Arthur looked into the front parlor room at Reissmann, still standing at the window. The immaculate room could have swallowed Arthur’s entire studio and held room for more. The fireplace alone was larger than Arthur’s kitchen. It was framed by a glittering marble mantle, cut with straight stately lines. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Billowing white sofas sat carelessly in the center of the room surrounding a low table carved from wood fine and red. Arthur stood at the window on the porch waving, trying to catch Reisman's attention but couldn't. Arthur’s own reflection in the glass waved back at him, like it were mocking him from the center of that wonderful room.

How nice it would be to live in one of those, instead of these tiny apartments in these old buildings. In San Francisco, he had shared a basement apartment with his girlfriend Anne Marie, and standing in the cold he suddenly thought of the musky smell that permeated from the carpeting and the constant battle against black mold in the bathroom. Before his last rainy season out west, Arthur remembered getting a call from his cousin, who mentioned that a tech millionaire was looking to invest in something artistic, like a movie. Arthur felt confident he could write a screenplay. He told his girlfriend Anne Marie about the opportunity. She was a small young woman, almost squat, with plump red cheeks and little pea-shaped brown eyes that would droop at the corners when she was excited, and she was excited by the news, as she was by all of Arthur’s opportunities, and much of what he thought and spoke.

“Oh babe, that is so great. I’m so happy for you” Anne Marie had said.

She was working as a waitress in a hotel restaurant to earn a little bit of money while she got her graphic design portfolio together for graduate school. Every night she made a point of bringing sushi home just in case Arthur had forgotten to eat dinner. So while Arthur ate salmon nigiri dipped in soy sauce, he glowed vibrantly with all the ideas he’d ever had over the years that could be used for a screenplay.

But on a night when the rain came, without a sign of letting up, Anne Marie returned from work with her leather jacket pulled over her head, the paper bag of sushi soaked through and torn. After eight months on the screenplay, Arthur had taken a lot of good notes, but hadn't put anything to paper.

“I hope the sushi isn't wet,” Anne Marie said, shaking herself off at the door, and combing her fingers through her dripping hair. Arthur was reading on the couch, a little drunk.

“Hi babe,” Anne Marie said, but Arthur didn't answer.

She walked over to him. “Are you not talking to me tonight?” she asked.

“No, I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “I’m just busy doing some writing.”

She bent down to kiss him. Walking off to the kitchen she asked, “How has the writing been going?”

“Fine,” Arthur said.

“Are you getting a lot done?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“When can I read it?” she asked.

She came back with a glass of water and the sushi on a plate that she placed for Arthur on a low table they kept in front of the sofa and sat down next to him.

Arthur didn't answer. Anne Marie turned the television on. He was better off without her. He was better off here, in the city of his future. It was only a matter of ringing the doorbell. Arthur fired his hand quickly at the brass encased doorbell and heard it chime inside. When he turned back to look in through the window Reissmann was gone, the road atlas rested on the back of one of the white couches. But nobody answered the door. Arthur worried he had done something wrong. Had he imagined hearing the chime? Maybe he had imagined pressing the bell all together. Maybe this wasn't even the right house. In a panic, Arthur fired his hand again. As he did, the door opened and a now hatless Reissmann, bundled in a dusty wool coat and scarf, appeared at the door as the second bell chimed just above the old man’s head. Reissmann gasped and jumped back in surprise.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Isaacs,” Reissmann said, hard lines cutting through his forehead, below his marble white hair.

“No, I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “Are you okay? I just didn’t think you heard me.”

“Yes, I’m fine and I can tell you I heard that,” Reissmann said, ducking back inside the house, leaving the door open. Arthur watched him shuffle down the long shadowed hallway to a block of light coming from the back of the house. Arthur began to follow him, only to realize, after three or four steps in, that he had not, in fact, been invited inside. He quietly made his way back out, hoping Reissmann wouldn't see him. Arthur heard muffled voices coming from the back. Dipping his head back through the doorway into the shadows, he asked, loudly, “What was that?” No answer. When Reissmann came back outside holding a briefcase he told Arthur, “I wasn't speaking to you,” and locked up the house.

They walked down the street, back in the direction Arthur had come from. The sun in the late afternoon was low in the sky. It spread a thick blonde light over everything that briefly reminded Arthur of San Francisco. Anne Marie used to squeeze honey that was the same color as the light spreading over everything into her mint tea. Thinking of her like that made it hard for Arthur to concentrate on whatever it was Reissmann was talking about. All that honey she would go through, how greedily she’d squeeze that bear-shaped bottle into her favorite tea cup.

“You live on such a beautiful street,” Arthur said suddenly, cutting Reissmann off in the middle of an anecdote about his son’s tenure.

“Yes, I suppose I can take a little credit for the street,” Reisman said. “You see, when my wife and I bought our place — that was nearly fifty years ago now — this whole street was just full of empty houses. We basically had our pick of where we wanted to live and bought the place for a little more than the money we had in our pockets. Not really, of course, but you get the idea. It was cheap. Now it must be worth...well, millions!”

“You are very lucky,” Arthur said, unsure himself what he meant by lucky.

“Luck has nothing to do with it. We are still working on the house, of course, and that means, still paying for it,” Reissmann said.

“But at least it is yours,” Arthur said.

“Yes,” Reissmann said, “it is ours.”

A silence fell between them as they paused at an intersection. Arthur looked at Reissmann who looked back and gave a forced and toothy smile. Reissmann’s teeth were in bad shape, small, birdlike and brown, his lips were all chapped and cracked and dry. Looking closer, Arthur saw his small and crooked fingers gripping the faux leather briefcase. His chinos had bleach stains near the pockets. He had loosened his scarf, warmed by the walk, revealing the wide collar on his dress shirt poking out of his sweater like a gaping mouth trying to swallow that little head of his.

“I have a late meeting this afternoon, in just about half an hour. I thought we could get coffee at the Bolingbrook Institute, where I work, and bring it to my office, instead of going to the cafe to chat,” Reissmann said as they crossed the street.

When they arrived at The Bolingbrook, Arthur looked up towards the angled glass structure donning the front of the tall, brick building, home to one of DC’s most influential think tanks. Looking up, he could see people walking quickly from one floor to another, working on the world’s finest economic quandaries. They were as busy as ants, moving like quick geckos in a terrarium. Arthur didn't know the first thing about what they did at the Bolingbrook Institute, but he still pictured himself charming Reissmann into an internship, then watched himself rushing down those white steel steps, looking out from inside the glass box at a hopeful young man looking up from the street the way Arthur was. He could see himself invite the boy up to give him an opportunity, just like the great Lev Reisman did for him. He saw it all before even going inside.

Inside though, Reissmann led him silently downstairs to the cafe. Arthur ordered a simple black coffee, while Reissmann got a large cafe au lait. The young woman working the counter had big eyes brown as acorns like they were painted onto her soft, full, brown face. As Arthur tried to pay Reissmann for the coffee, Reissmann was busy following this young woman along the counter, saying, “And please, more milk than coffee.”

She nodded at him without a word. Reissmann, though, was eager to talk. “Your hair looks very pretty today,” he said. She didn't respond as she turned to fill the tall paper cup with more milk. When she turned back, Reissmann asked her, “How are you?”

She nodded and handed him the cup. He took it and said, “Gracias,” with a long, roll of the R. He held up one dollar for her to see, then stuffed it in the tip box with a smile.

This woman was not Mexican or Spanish, and Arthur could see that, but he didn't think he should say anything. He watched Reissmann struggle with his stiff fingers to pour honey into the cup, but didn't offer to help.

Upstairs, Reissmann’s office was spacious, but mostly empty. There was a desk in the center of the room, some wires running from the dusty computer on the desk, back to the outlet below the wide window on the room's back wall, directly behind Reissmann, who sat behind the desk. There was a filing cabinet in the corner. All the drawers were open and empty. Along one wall were stacks of old boxes that looked to be deflating like old pumpkins. There were no bookcases, no phones, the computer wasn't on. It was hard to tell if somebody was just arriving, or on his way out. Reissmann got right to the point.

“We don't have much time,” he said. “So tell me how it is you think I can help you?”

“Well this is a big help,” Arthur said, “just meeting with me like this. I know you are busy, so thank you. I guess I’d like to know if you have any advice for a young person who's just moved here, any advice on how they can make it.”

As he was finishing talking, Reissmann raised his cup to his lips. Arthur watched as the loose top slipped off and he spilled a stream of milky yellow coffee into his lap.  Reissmann shrieked and leapt out of his chair.

“It’s fine,” Reissmann said.

“At least it is more milk than coffee, right?” Arthur said.

“Something like that,” and sitting back down Reissmann added, “I don't know what happened.”

“I do,” Arthur said.

“Excuse me?” Reissmann asked.

“The top wasn't on all the way,” Arthur said. “I noticed it downstairs too, but didn't think it was my place to tell you, or say anything.”

Reissmann looked at Arthur for a moment, his lips taut like he was about to say a hundred things, but couldn't start somewhere. “Anyway,” he started after a moment, “to answer your question. Young people have been moving to DC for as long as I've been here and seem to make it, as you say, just fine without any advice from me. You see?”

Arthur nodded.

“In fact, I think there have been entirely too many young people moving here and expecting the city to give them all kinds of things, expecting the city to change for them in all kinds of ways. They don't appreciate the history. They don't appreciate the culture. They don't want to work hard. In fact, it is as if all they want is advice.”

As he went on and on, Arthur saw, in the lines around his forced smile, could hear, between his polite tone, exasperation and annoyance. He thought about San Francisco again, about the last time he spoke to Anne Marie, when he told her he was thinking about leaving and he could see in both the shape her face took and the way her eyes moved, that the surprise and confusion had morphed into anger and resentment. He remembered the way she challenged him to simply say what he wanted, whether it was to leave her or stay with her, it didn't matter but just be a man and say it and stop the excuses. He never did. He told her he was going to visit family on the east coast, but never intended to see her again, and somehow, listening to this old man talk about what he learned in the Peace Corps, Arthur finally understood what it must have been like for her, trying to talk to a cowardly, selfish man.

“Well, thanks for your time,” Arthur said, standing to go, “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Sure thing,” Reissmann said, “and good luck.”

The two men never saw each other again, but when Arthur got home he found an email from Reissmann waiting for him with the name and number of a reputable temp agency. There was no response to the Facebook message he had sent Anne Marie a few days before, telling her that he was going to meet Reissmann for coffee. Arthur opened their messages and looked at the little thumbnail picture of her for a minute, then wrote, “Well that couldn’t have gone any better. I think I may get a fellowship at Bolingbrook!!” She never responded to that message either. San Francisco was having a heat wave and the nights there were suddenly warmer and Anne Marie was happy to find herself enjoying bourbon for the first time in her life, and giving up mint tea completely.

#Fiction #2013 #Otherwhere's Travels

[riverofmemoriesft]

. The Game of Life . 6

Full Summary: “You’re new here, so I’ll explain the rules once.  Winners get one lash, losers die.  It’s quite simple.  The last one standing gets no lash.  We do one game a day here and you live as long as you can stand it.  If you somehow miraculously try to get away, I kill you.  It’s quite simple really.”

Pairings: Natsu x Lucy, Gajeel x Levy

Warnings: This really isn’t a fic for sensitive readers.  Mentions of suicide, descriptive gore, the likes.  It’s rated M, my friends.

It looked as if being dragged out to look at bodies was becoming a habit, and it wasn't exactly a habit that Gajeel wanted to have. Grunting, Gajeel crouched beside the eighth body and squinted at it with thoughtful crimson eyes. "I can't smell anything odd," he told Natsu. Salamander stood beside him with fierce onyx eyes that didn't shine like normal. He was getting anxious and desperate.

"That's because there is no scent," he replied firmly. "That's something that we've found on all of them we've been allowed to see. The only thing that does that is-"

"Nullification," Gajeel finished without looking up. Now, he was gently nudging the dead woman's arm aside, showing Natsu a word that had been cut into her flesh. Natsu grimaced at the sight. "Must have gouged it into her arm herself."

Natsu took in her purple hair and lacking eyes with a growl. "If he lays a hand on Lucy-"

"Anything?"

They looked over as Mirajane shuffled over. She'd agreed to keep an eye on the investigation as Makarov relayed the information around to others. Natsu opened his mouth to speak, but Gajeel cut him off. "Our job just got near impossible," he said as he hopped to his feet, rolling his shoulders. He looked the gentle woman in the eye, grim. "Lady scratched a word onto her arm. 'Nullification'. I'm gonna guess that means the bastard's a mage specializing in nullification magic."

Natsu nodded his agreement. "Would explain all of the lack of scents we've had," he muttered, scowling.

Mirajane narrowed her eyes and then widened them nervously. "Even Erza and I would be useless if we were caught by this man...I may be strong, but I can't overpower a man that can erase my magic."

"That's how he caught Lucy and Levy," Natsu murmured. "He erased their magic...and look at the marks on her back," he added, for the naked woman was on her belly, showing them the nasty lashes. "Those are from Lucy's whip. I haven't seen another one make those kinda marks."

"He's using her whip on them?" Gajeel made a sound of disgust. "We gotta find 'em, and soon. Still two more women who are missin' and I doubt he's gonna stop lookin' for women to add in. Can't just wait for bodies to pile up with clues in tact."

"Right." She ran a hand tiredly through her hair. "These poor women…" Mirajane whispered. "I can imagine how their families feel…" Natsu said nothing, because he knew that she could. She'd thought Lisanna dead for years.

Gajeel rumbled an impatient sound in the back of his throat. "Since when did these fuckers get smart on us? Usually, they make some kind of mistake, but this bastard's not doing anything to give us clues."

"It's quite frustrating," a passing official told them, earning mutters of agreement.

Gajeel studied the lash marks and suddenly scowled. "Levy doesn't need somethin' like this. I know she still has nightmares 'cause of me."

Neither mage said anything, but both exchanged a look that spoke unsaid words of agreement. The days when Levy came to the guildhall with shadows under her eyes, when she jumped for no apparent reason outside of a loud noise…

Gajeel still beat himself up over it. On those days, he was surprisingly gentle with her, buying her whatever she wanted from the bar and whatnot. Levy had been filled to the brim with gratitude, near tears the first time he'd brought her something under the advisory of Pantherlily.

Lily was now in the guildhall alongside his two fellow Exceeds, all of them watching over the terrified Wendy. While the young sky dragon slayer was normally fairly brave, she'd fallen into hysterics after discovering a body, and Makarov had decided only that morning to have her sent to stay with Lamia Scale, where Lyon and Chelia had promised to watch over her.

"Just...keep an eye out for Ayako, would you?" Lyon had pleaded when they'd contacted him about it.

Gajeel wrinkled his nose, thinking of how Sting and Rogue had gone home without finding anything. We're tryin'. We ain't findin' nothin' though.

Natsu said, "We're freaking blind as bats."

"The hell are you talkin' about?" he demanded, looking up at the fire mage, but he wasn't looking at Gajeel. He'd closed his eyes and was taking a deep breath.

Suddenly, his eyes opened. He looked calmer than he'd been since Lucy's disappearance. He slowly knelt beside the body, his nose wrinkling as he inhaled sharply. He said nothing as he ran his fingers over the word Gajeel had fond, leaning in closer and inhaling again. His gaze suddenly locked on something.

"Outskirts," he rumbled, grinning. "This guy's on the outskirts of town. Look at the dirt on her feet, and how the scuff marks are all over. She was dragged here. She could have been screaming and we wouldn't have noticed because of that guy's magic. But she was dragged here, see?" He tapped a heel on the woman's body, looking excited now. "Western side of Magnolia, near the river that runs through town."

Gajeel blinked and then crouched down beside him again. "What the hell? Why would you say-"

"If you do this," Natsu explained, swiping some dried dirt from the dead girl's heel and pulling back a little, "You can find its scent. She's been so engulfed in his magic, it would take weeks for it to wear off. We won't find the girls because of the same reason, but if we focus on the location instead of them-"

"We'll find 'em." Gajeel stood swiftly. "Oi, Mira," he said, looking over at the hopeful woman. "We're gonna go run and check over that area he was talkin' about."

"Oh, do be careful," she pleaded. "I don't want you hurt! I understand we must find Levy and Lucy - I'm worried about them, too, but…"

"We'll be careful, Mira!" Natsu vowed, flashing her a quick smile. "Aren't we always?"

"Natsu Dragneel," she scolded, "If you come home after burning something again-"

"Believe me," he said in a dark voice that made even Gajeel a little worried that he was losing his mind in a bad way.

"The only thing I'm gonna burn into ash is the bastard who took Lucy."

Levy awoke from a midday nap to screaming.

Her eyes sprang open, her bleary gaze studying the area to try and figure out what was happening. Lucy was already on her feet. She always was when Simon came down. She refused to show even a hint of weakness, and Levy applauded her for that. The blonde was glaring fiercely as Simon trampled down the stairs.

Ayako, Maria, and Levy merely stared as a woman older than any of them was dragged down the steps and forced over to the wall. She fought viciously, clawing and biting as hard as she could, but he payed her no attention and chained her to the wall. She yanked, her eyes wild.

"Tch," Simon muttered, fixing his messed up clothes and sweeping hair from his gaze. "You won't get dinner if you keep this up. Play nice to everyone and maybe you'll get lucky." His gaze darted to the girls. "We won't be playing any games today. I apologize for making you work so hard." He offered what he thought was an apologetic smile and then slid back upstairs.

Lucy immediately seated herself the second he was gone, attention on the newcomer.

She was older than them, as stated previously, with wild brown eyes and hair the color of emeralds. Her chest heaved for breath, her body still clothed. Levy doubted that she'd remain so for much longer. Privacy had long been forgotten as she crossed her legs and said softly, "Are you alright, miss?"

Sharp eyes darted up. She narrowed her gaze and then blinked in surprise. "You're Levy McGarden, aren't you? From Fairy Tail? And you have to be Lucy, Salamander's partner."

"That's me," Lucy agreed.

She also listed off Ayako's name, which made Ayako raise her chin proudly. Maria remained quiet, her eyes filled with relieved exhaustion that they'd escaped another round of the games they played.

"I'm fine," she finally said, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I woke up halfway in and fought like a demon, but he's a lot stronger than he looks...caught me while I was heading home from a bar. I live half a block away from that damn place. Didn't think it would be too dangerous." She scowled. "Lived in Magnolia all my life and I never thought there'd be a day where women had to be scared to walk at night."

"You said you woke up halfway through," Levy said urgently. Her hazel eyes were calculating. "Where are we? Could you give us an address?"

She shook her head. "No, but it's the last house on the main street that branches off the canal. The dirt one that nobody wants to go one during the spring because it gets so muddy."

"We're in the basement of a house?" Lucy muttered. "Does he have neighbors?"

"Oh, yeah." The woman scowled. "I screamed and screamed, but do you think they cared?"

"That's not their fault," Ayako sighed. "Nullification mage." She rubbed her hands together. "Alright, so we've got a location. Any sacrificial lambs for the next game?"

"That's brutal," Maria said softly. "Fairy Tail's looking, aren't they? They'll find us. We should just play along and hope and wait-"

"Maria, if we don't get out of here soon, you'll die." Ayako scowled at the annoyed woman. "Let us try to help you, okay?" She sat back, hands in her lap. After a long moment, she asked, "Would Fairy Tail send my body back to Lamia Scale?"

"No," Levy said fiercely, "You can't just suddenly give up after surviving for so long, Ayako-"

"Would they send me home, Levy?" she repeated just as sharply.

"Yes," Lucy whispered quietly. "They would."

"The it's done. I'll do it." Ayako looked around her and found a piece of wall that seemed sharp enough. "If I'm going out, I might as well go out a hero that will hang out in the history books for being the one that led Fairy Tail to the killer." Levy's eyes welled with tears, and Ayako gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't cry, Levy. We'll see each other again someday, right?"

Levy said nothing, only buried her face in her hands. She was supposed to be a Fairy Tail mage. She'd already broken down once, and she was getting ready to again. She could feel it.

Not for the first time, Levy thought of Gajeel.

She wasn't sure where he was coming from or why she was thinking so much of him as of late. Maybe it was the situation. Maybe it was the pain of the nightmares she'd had the night before. But she was thinking of him.

Despite his gruff attitude, Levy knew he was willing to throw himself in front of one of Alzack and Bisca's bullets for the majority of the guild. The only ones he wouldn't do it were the ones who could stop it themselves. She was certain that he was working just as fiercely as Natsu was to find them.

Levy planted her chin in her open palm, her heart swelling. She missed his gruff attitude, his silly behaviorisms when he was complimented or flustered. He'd complain and insult her in return, but she knew he was just embarrassed. Levy would be the first to admit she'd had a thing for the iron mage - though she'd never said such words aloud, even when Lucy had teased her in the past.

Grimly, Levy wondered if she'd be able to pay him back for everything he'd done.

#fairy tail #fanfiction #the game of life #riverofmemoriesft #nalu #natsu x lucy #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gajevy #gajeel x levy #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #mirajane strauss

[soundonreadings]

Sound On InstaReadings Series Volume 2 with John Elizabeth Stintzi & Kyla Jamieson

Welcome to Sound on InstaReadings Series. Our second installment features readers John Elizabeth Stintzi and Kyla Jamieson and is hosted by Dina Del Bucchia. Posted here for your enjoyment are the bios of our fine readers and the text of their readings. Thanks!

John Elizabeth Stintzi is the recipient of the 2019 RBC Bronwen Wallace Award for Emerging Writers, and their work has appeared in the Malahat Review, the Fiddlehead, Kenyon Review, and Ploughshares. They are the author of the novel Vanishing Monuments as well as the poetry collection Junebat.

Excerpt from John Elizabeth Stintzi’s VANISHING MONUMENTS (for SOUND ON, April 24):

The concrete path, the door, the hallway. The house. I remember Mother stuffing me into down jackets and snow boots, hobbling me into the thick snow pants she’d bought for me at the thrift store.

“I bought it big like this because you will grow,” Mother said when she first pulled them up my legs as I sat braced on the stairs.

It was late October, which back then meant there was already a foot of snow in Winnipeg, and the rivers were frozen. It was morning. I don’t know where we were going. She’d bought me the pants with a too-big jacket because I’d outgrown the one-piece snowsuit I’d used for the last few years. I must have been around eight or nine. She rolled up the legs, took an open safety pin from between her lips, and started pinning up the rolls of extra length.

“If you buy big clothes, your body will know to grow into them. Do you want to be big one day, Alani? Like me.”

I don’t remember answering, but I must have, because that was back when Mother and I still responded to each other. My mind doesn’t usually decide to remind me of us speaking. Instead, I remember thinking about my body getting larger, as she pinned the legs, and how hopeful that made me. I wanted there to be more room for all of me, I wanted my body to feel as bare and roomy as our house did, like I could fit everything in. When I was in kindergarten, because it was too cold to have recess outside, our teacher brought out the projector to show us a documentary about hermit crabs. I couldn’t understand what the voice-over was saying because of its speed and accent, so I just watched the crabs switching shells and started to think that’s what life is like: you live as long as you can in one body, then once you can’t fit into it anymore, you move to a new one. And someone smaller takes your place.

For a while, I didn’t understand what growing up looked like, didn’t know how it worked. For a few years after Ilsa died and gave Mother the house in her will, Mother helped other elderly people in the neighbourhood keep up their lives in their own homes. Over the years of looking after Ilsa and me, she had perfected her technique of caring for fragile bodies.

Before I was in school, or during the summer, I went along with her in the mornings and wandered around the old person’s house while Mother was in another room, helping them get out of bed, bathe, eat, or take their medicine. I spent most of the time there either avoiding their mean old pets or walking around their living rooms, their hall- ways, looking at the family pictures on the walls. I remember looking through those photos for the old, frail things that Mother cared for and never once finding them.

I never thought that they could’ve been the result of one of the young bodies in those photos. After a certain age they stopped being documented, or else the newer photos were never hung. Mother hadn’t ever taught me about aging, about time’s effect on a body. I’d never seen a picture of myself as a baby; I don’t know that I’d ever seen a picture of myself at all back then. I thought that everything was inside me, that as far back as I could remember was as far back as I ever was. I assumed the people in the photos, in different stages of their lives, were each a different person. I thought I was going to be myself—a child—forever.

Nobody told me that I’d already been things that I didn’t remember, that as far back as I could recall was not the start of me, and that my life would consist of slowly leaving myself behind. I hadn’t yet realized that I didn’t remember anything about the year or two we still lived in Germany. All I’d known was that whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, there I was. Back then, with that mindset, things seemed stable.

“What does it mean being big?” I asked, as Mother took my hands and pulled me to my feet at the bottom of the stairs. She tugged at the pants, put her eye close to the floor—her tied-back hair flopping onto the hardwood—to squint and yank at the pinned legs. By then, I knew people grew, that there was no escaping the body I was in. “Why do I want to do it?”

She sat up—the memory is tack sharp—finished adjusting one of the straps of the snow pants, pulled back a little, and looked me straight in the eyes. Her face was so close to mine. I can remember the smell of her shampoo, the weight of the snow pants hanging on my shoulders, her hands grazing down along them on their way to brace her against the floor with that swooshing sound of scraped polyester. I remember everything about that moment, everything but her mouth. I want to remember her smiling, but I can’t see it. I can’t see her mouth or the inflection that the words came out with.

“Because it is going to happen, Alani. Getting big. You should be welcoming and excited for things that are going to happen.”

* Kyla Jamieson is a disabled writer who lives and relies on the unceded traditional territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Room Magazine, Poetry Is Dead, Arc Poetry Magazine, Vallum, Peach Mag, Plenitude, GUTS, and The Account. She is the author of Kind of Animal (Rahila’s Ghost Press), a poetry chapbook about the aftermath of a brain injury. Her work was longlisted for the 2019 CBC Poetry Prize and her first book-length collection of poems, Body Count (Nightwood Editions), placed third in the Metatron Prize for Rising Authors. Find Kyla on Instagram as @airymeantime or at www.kylajamieson.com. 

BODY COUNT like every intelligent (traumatized) woman full of self-hate (shame) I have always been a perfectionist / before I wanted to be pretty I wanted to be on time / most improved most present best /my high school history teacher emphasized obedience / everyone I talk to remembers him fondly idk why / I researched the rape of nanjing / my paper was a failure / nobody really knew how many people died there / I couldn’t establish the simplest facts / it was hopeless / I forgot I asked for an apology from the prof people say I got fired like that’s what I wanted & not his respect / can writing be healing without inviting mockery? / according to google george orwell said journalism is what somebody doesn’t want printed & everything else is just pr / lately I worry the poetry I like is just pr / I wonder about the carbon emissions of a body’s decomposition / like is killing yourself better for the planet / anorexia runs in my family / studies associate it with trauma & perfectionism / I used to think I could trade obedience for safety / I rewrote my paper on gallipoli / I got an a / white history is easy / internment is only two letters from internet / that’s where I read they put us in horse stalls / my great-grandfather said I have three boys & we’re all willing to work / they were sent to a farm instead of a camp / fyi japanese soldiers raped nanjing / fyi it doesn’t matter how perfect you are / tl;dr I tried to be perfect for a long time & it didn’t keep me safe / today I went in the shower & shaved for so long my calluses fell off / I don’t like what this might be seen as saying about my politics like maybe I’m secretly as misogynistic as that man who’s in love with his sex doll as well as his sex doll side piece / but it made me feel so clean

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THE FUTURE SINCE MY ONLY LIMITS ARE IMAGINED

there is artificial grass here but that’s not what i’ve been smoking like all great millennial visionaries i am caving under the weight of my ambitions my grandma says life is a gimmick i google virgin-whore dichotomy plus intellectual how to define evil without capitalism what even is normal how valuable optometrists will be during the apocalypse i am not ready for the unending applause at that one point in trump’s address to congress was gruesome when will i see you again

 EXCEPTING MY INFIRMITIES

concussed I land bed & sleep my belly is hot like heat I wear my fingernails are getting along the smiley face’s mouth corners drip condensation I dream of rivers & apocalypse opium in the dark & fear silverfish I want to write a chopped book in series voice jess sends smiling pile of poo I say to you little brother I can go to america on the internet

WBU?

I’m on Bumble & people are asking what I do for fun. How to explain no free will for a year, each day shaped by however pain appeared that morning?

I NEED A POEM

Can we talk about the moon tonight? Low & full in the baby-blue sky. A friend at my door, the sound of her laugh & well-loved heart. I want to be held up like that. I need a poem about happiness I haven’t written yet, an ode to the ducks in my neighbours’ pool, another for the pink magnolias of spring—some trees make it look so easy: yes, I can hold all this beauty up.

[wendyimmiller]

Porch Postulating on 45 Years in One Garden

High on a Hill in Utica, Indiana

We welcome back one-time Garden Rant partner Bob Hill, who has stayed in one beautiful place for a long time.

A few very random thoughts while sitting in a screened-in back porch in Utica Indiana in early April of 2020 while mulling over 45 years of home gardening, the memories, connections and friendships born of all that – if not the meaning of life.

Phlox subulata beyond the garden gate.

This may be the much needed and finest spring in all those years, a rain-blessed chronological PowerPoint of purple hellebores, fragrant witchhazel, pink flowering almond, magnificent magnolias, the shy, blushing ‘Pauline Lily’ redbud, screaming yellow Kerria, butter-yellow Weigela, deep red crabapples and simple white daffodils with yellow centers. The latter well predates our four decades in this place in a 160-year-old farmhouse. I can’t look at them without thinking and wondering about those who planted them.

Kerria japonica

Carl Sandburg – a Midwestern Dude who first left school at age 13 to drive a milk wagon in Galesburg Illinois – came up with a pretty nice poem about the misty undefined side of life:

The fog comes

on little cat feet

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on

I get the same feeling sitting on the back porch watching green spring slowly creeping in on trees and shrubs from ground up. You can see it, almost feel it. On the warm days you can experience the changes from morning to night. There’s no one good word for that. “Hue” doesn’t get it. “Subtle” is overused. In spring the green comes on little …what?

I gave GOOGLE a shot at it and its explanation involved “diffuse-porous wood anatomy” and the “relation of foliar phenology to xylem embolism.”

Let’s move on.

Can there ever be enough Virginia bluebells?

If had to pick one flower that brings home spring to me it is the Virginia bluebell. We have one huge patch across the drive now being assaulted by bright yellow wood poppies creating a bicameral carpet of color in our fern garden, itself crossed by an old wooden bridge.

I love everything about the bluebells, their happy morphing into pink, the joy of speaking their Latin name…Mertensia virginica.  I am so smitten by them that last year I ordered 100 more and have added clumps in every fertile, shaded nook and cranny on our place. Maybe future owners will wonder about who planted them.

Magnolia ‘Daybreak’

Our back porch offers a visual parade of magnolia trees staging a shameless beauty contest. The problem is those Butterflies, Elizabeth and Marilyn cultivars planted about 25 years ago are now so tall I can only see their flowers through the tops of other trees. This is because I pruned up those magnolias way too high to allow passage under them while planting other ornamental trees now also grown too tall.

That’s because when you first begin gardening with two acres of wide-open pasture and an insane desire to plant one of every bush, shrub and tree known to God it’s just hard to see where all that might lead. Most of those plants were six foot or less. Besides those wonderful yellow Butterfly magnolia blooms do look good pinned way up there against a blue April sky. And nobody gets a 45-year do-over.

  A single purple iris is blooming just outside our back-porch door, one of a now overgrown clump that badly needs dividing. So show me an iris patch that doesn’t need dividing. The iris was a gift from my wife’s Aunt Helen, who gave us a pickup load of flowers when we moved onto our mostly barren eight acres 45 years ago.

Aunt Helen, who grew up on a southern Indiana farm, was old school practical, caring, a fine seamstress and no-nonsense tidy. She could also grow roses in a milk bucket. She just had the knack, her yard covered with mostly common but very healthy plants she handed out to others with pride.

Everyone’s favorite Aunt Helen story was of the time she was having what were thought to be serious health problems. An ambulance was called, but Aunt Helen wouldn’t get in it until after she finished doing the breakfast dishes. Every gardener needs a patch of Aunt Helen iris of some sort.

Speaking of memories, a splash of yellow, pink and red tulips, is now opening not far from the porch and Aunt Helen’s iris. The tulips were purchased at the famed Keukenhof Tulip Gardens in the Netherlands on a visit there a few years ago. Something like seven million tulips were on display in fields, rows and vivid living art beyond words. Those seven million tulips are replanted every year. The show was shut down this year due to the coronavirus pandemic. Seven. Million. Tulips. Fields of Silence. No spectators. No awe-struck patrons. Sad.

‘Double Take Scarlet’ quince

For damn near egotistical, in-your-face red color, the Double Take Scarlet quince hanging out with the green boxwoods owns our neighborhood. As is often the case, with we who overplant, this cultivar got lost in semi-shade between some aged deciduous hollies and a clematis taking ownership of a big 1860s trellis.

The quince made some visual noise last year. This year it went absolutely hey-look-at-me bonkers; the red growing ever deeper as the sun disappears over the barn. I can sit on the porch and watch it disappear, then damn near hear it hollering for attention in the gathering darkness.

Close to it – although not exactly a soul mate – is the redbud ‘Pauline Lily.’ Truth be told, if Pauline defined all redbuds people would stick to dogwoods. First found in the mountains of West Virginia, and named for the wife of its discoverer, Colin Lily, its flowers are pale pink to white. I like the feature. That neighborhood needs to calm down a little.

Off to my right is perennial porch-watching favorite, the three-flowered maple or Acer triflorum if you must. I like it because it’s got a nice shape, exfoliating bark, great fall color and it’s never in a hurry to do any of it.

I’m getting that same feeling myself.

Former Louisville Courier-Journal columnist Bob Hill wrote more than 4,000 columns and feature stories, about ten books and several angry letters to bill collectors in his 33 years at the paper. He and his wife, Janet, are former guides and caretakers of Hidden Hill Nursery and Garden in Utica, IN., a home-made, eight-acre arboretum, art mecca and source of enormous fun, whimsy, rare plants and peace for all who showed up. Bob’s academic honors include being the tallest kid in his class 12 years in a row. 

Porch Postulating on 45 Years in One Garden originally appeared on GardenRant on April 8, 2020.

The post Porch Postulating on 45 Years in One Garden appeared first on GardenRant.

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[auburnfamilynews]

Week 13 is historically known as a dud as teams get a week off or a cupcake before playing the biggest game on their schedule. And while most of you are still drying off from the blood feud that was Samford and Auburn, there were some actual solid matchups this Saturday, with Ohio State taking down Penn State to the surprise of no one and Georgia doing Georgia things and holding on to beat Texas A&M. Those, however, do not meet the criterial for the Roasted. We hold ourselves to higher regard and a higher standard, and there wasn’t much funny stuff that happened at those games. There were some funny things that happened at 3 or 4 games at the very least, so let’s get to it in this week’s Roasted!

SAD SEC FANS ARE SAD

Earlier this week, Vanderbilt Director of Athletics, Malcom Turner, came out to say that Derrick Mason would be back next year and that the university supports him through this tough season that has seen the Dore’s bring home two whole wins. That sort of message normally rallies the troops and gets the fans out to support the coaches and the players through this rough patch. So how’d that go for them you ask?

Vandy gave ETSU $390,000 to play today. Hard to imagine they made that much in ticket sales. pic.twitter.com/da8qrumvhl

— Joe Avento (@JoeAvento) November 23, 2019

Ugh…admittingly, living in Nashville myself, it was not a fun day to be outside on Saturday. The Dores would get the win on Senior Day but the bad news is they go to Knoxville next week to take on an all the sudden hot Vols team. Even if they played in Nashville, it would be a pro Tennessee crowd but at least the number of fans would be cut almost in half at Vanderbilt Stadium.

MEANWHILE….IN BATON ROUGE, Arkansas started life after Chad Morris and it continued much like life with Chad Morris. LSU led 56-6 at one point before asking for volunteers from the crowd and Arkansas was able to add 2 TDs and backdoor covering the 42.5 point line. That didn’t do anything to dampen the celebration of gaining the Boot for another year!

Nobody wanted it. Part Deux. The #LSU players left "The Boot" on the field following their 56-20 whipping of Arkansas. pic.twitter.com/rgBzPZMHZy

— Jacques Doucet (@JacquesDoucet) November 24, 2019

Oh…well surely Coach O was all about celebrating bragging rights for another year over their neighbors to the north!

Ed Orgeron on #LSU not celebrating: "There wasn't going to be celebration for beating Arkansas, they havent beaten anyone in a long time."

— Brody Miller (@BrodyAMiller) November 24, 2019

I mean, he’s not wrong…

It was good to see Arkansas fans were having a fun time in Death Valley though.

Sad on Piggies….Sad on.

HARVARD AND YALE HELD A PROTEST AND A FOOTBALL GAME BROKE OUT!

Historically speaking, The Game is a game that everyone should watch. It was where Tailgating truly began and is one of the oldest rivalries in College Football, since ESPN wants to shove down our throats that it’s the 150th year of the sport of Kings (don’t get me wrong, if I get the History of the SEC series out of this deal, I will happily pay the piper for it). If you are looking for football prowess and NFL talent, then this game wouldn’t interest you and normally doesn’t interest many people except to see the final and then forget about it five minutes later. That would have been this year if it wasn’t for something that happened near the end of halftime.

The Harvard-Yale football game has been delayed due to students protesting climate change in the middle of the field. pic.twitter.com/uY9Kc3Mn32

— ESPN College Football (@ESPNCFB) November 23, 2019

HALFTIME LASTED NEARLY AN HOUR THANKS TO THIS KOMBI YA FEST! Don’t get me wrong, I think things should be done a little differently in regards to the climate and how we treat the Earth, but that doesn’t mean I am going to rush the field in a game at Harvard, Yale or Cal for that matter. I mean, what’s the end game here? To get the corporations to changes their ways, man? Ok brah, in that case, go and write your representatives (whatever good that will do) and pray that you annoy the person that opens his mail enough to show him what the people in his district think. Don’t punish the students playing the game or the parents and friends that care about those players in their biggest (and probably last for some) football game before they go in law or some dot-com company that runs the world and takes away from those harmful carbons you keep bitching about!

Ok, so after the game got back underway, it ended up going to double overtime and almost forced the game to be called a tie. Why is that, you may be asking. Well because Yale, one of the centerpieces of college’s in the United States…DOESN’T HAVE STADIUM LIGHTS!! WHAT IN THE WIDE WORLD OF SPORTS!?! I get that you want the game to be pure and played in the sunlight, but when sunset is at 4:30 Eastern in New Haven, you might need some extra light! I envision something like the end of Bagger Vance if this game were to keep going past the 2 overtime period, running more of those Fossil Fuels the students were protesting and really creating some fun irony. Fortunately, for everyone, Yale secured a share of the Ivy League title with a 50-43 win over the Crimson, thus securing another Blue victory over the Red. Here’s hoping Auburn can make sure the Blue team beats the Red team next weekend as well!

STATE OF FLORIDA INTERNATIONAL!

Ok, show of hands…who had this one? I didn’t…I should have knowing that Miami could barely score 20 points much less beat anyone by 20.

Alright, show of hands…who knew that Butch Davis was the Head Coach of FIU? Yeah, me either!

Ok ok, last one, who remembered that the Marlins Baseball Park (where this game was played just to rub salt in the wound for Miami) was built on top of where the old Orange Bowl, the one where Miami built their name, use to stand?

FIU DEFEATS MIAMI 30-24. PAWS UP!!! So proud to be a part of this program. pic.twitter.com/eCbgd5MdCe

— AJ Ricketts (@AJRicketts) November 24, 2019

Yeah…all those things are true, and each one of them hurts Miami fans more and more as you say each one of them out loud.

THATS THE GAME! FIU PULLS OFF THE UPSET OVER MIAMI!#FIU #Miami pic.twitter.com/OOcF6kkdJF

— The Sideline Report (@SidelineReport_) November 24, 2019

At one point in this pillow fight, it was 16-0 FIU. 16-0!! Lord have mercy! If you are thinking, wow, losing as a double digit favorite isn’t something that happens often, you are correct. The Canes, however, have gotten that part of consistency down to be sure!

With the loss to FIU, Miami becomes the only team in the last 40 years to lose three times as a 14-point favorite in a single season. Canes lost to VT as 14-pt fave, GT as 18.5-pt fave and tonight to FIU as 21-pt fave. Canes also won 17-12 as a 30.5-pt fave vs Central Michigan.

— Chris Fallica (@chrisfallica) November 24, 2019

Sweet Lord! I don’t want to start Manny Watch just yet since he is only 10ish games into his career as the second best team in Dade County but there is one thing that a new head coach in a rebuilding situation can give and that’s hope.

LMAOOOOOOOO POVERTY pic.twitter.com/wvYyMYFgPI

— LOCAL RAPPER is OUT NOW! (@TaReefKnockOut) November 24, 2019

I don’t know what on Earth this guy is dancing for down 13-0 to something called Florida International, but hope is not the thing that gives me if I am a fan of the U.

from College and Magnolia - All Posts https://www.collegeandmagnolia.com/2019/11/25/20980547/boom-roasted-week-13

#IFTTT #Blogger #auburn #auburn fast #wareagle #AuburnFamilyNews #war eagle #sec #football news #aubu

[futurepoetlaureate]

A.E. Lanez: The Draft

4th Quarter: Game Over  It's feeling like  4th quarter  Crunch time Time to get up and grind Kobe state of mind  Can't knock the hustle  If you never had to struggle Hard work plus Dedication  Equals Bill Russell  Can't slow down  Got to keep moving I haven't reached my prime yet So I'm still improving KD with the shot  But Lebron with the block During a full court press I'm AI with the crossover Kyrie with his left  It's about to be game over  Shaq with the hook  Now look At the score It's a lot closer than before The clock is running down  No more Time outs left 3 secs to shoot Jordan with the fade away Buzzer beater  And it goes in We are the champions Once again!  Time is ticking away Praying for home court where my heart stays Speaking on greatness Before the buzzer runs out I pray you forgive me for the lateness From end to end Where does the chance to win bend? Working hard on the inside Picking up momentum in my stride Looking for strength in this crunch time If I don’t score my failure becomes a worldly sin Outcasted Against the competition I became outlandish The opposition is praying on my demise But my moment to shine comes at sunrise Empty jeans Pockets with no dreams Armani collars But my pockets contain no dollars Lord knows I’m still perfecting my craft Watching television praying my name is called in the draft The feeling of drowning in knee-deep water Praying my shot in the dark hits before the end of fourth quarter. The Undefeatable Doubt Hey Lanez they've been sleeping on us for way too long. We have to show them why we deserve to be here. Let's go! First there was ten Then there was one Now there is none Cause I whipped them like they were my son Cause I came in thinking I had already won So it was done Before it begun Cause my mind is the trigger And my mouth is the gun So when my words hit cha The only thing that can save you is scripture Get the picture Cause you'll immediately go into shock Cause you can't blink You can't think And you feel weak Boy just go home and go to sleep We'll have a rematch next week Now I'm feeling like Jack cause I'm the king of the world And your looking like I just stole your girl Cold World. Now they want to crucify me Like Jesus on the cross And they'll pay any cost To see my blood flow like a book of poetry And they don't even know me But they see me from a far Looking like a star So they want to take a shot at me But they miss Cause they're not focused. Can’t call it That’s what they say about me Maybe he’s done with writing Maybe his ambition just isn’t biting But Lord they don't know Plenty of days crying Plenty of nights unseeingly trying So hard to see through the distractions Lost friends from difficult subtractions I guess I’m testing my fate Lord where’s my mind’s state Unraveled like a mystery Wondering where is my peoples’ history Lord knows I’m not that lost Just look at everything it has cost Nothing is free But they shopping like we can afford those sprees I see the roads we are taking Those bridges we travel still shaking Wake up, wake up Sip some of this knowledge from God’s cup My pockets must not be as deep Waking up in cold sweats from my sleep If I’m heading for greatness I sure can’t call it A mystery I sure can’t solve it Lord, please help me find it I felt like I lost it We are all endanger Who stands as bright as the green ranger? These words can’t be bought The wisdom gained can’t be taught Only knowledge I sought Can’t catch my metaphors even if they wanted to be caught Like the blinds from inside shaded This world counting me out has me faded. Don't Sleep on me While the world steadily sleeps on me Staring through my eyes hoping they would see What has become No equal to the total and sum My life divided the hate I showed up on time so greatness can never be late Paid my dues Life gave me nothing but cues So I took them Unseen faith is like a rare gem So I plead to the masses Life gives you few passes Miss out on life by not setting your alarm There's no good but undeniable harm. I know I should be sleep But my mind’s way too deep In thought By my surprise I just caught A vibe It's funny how lateness Sparks greatness Up all night Until I get it right Not quite there yet Might need to reset My mind Back to a time When I didn't have to do so much thinking I was more so dreaming Of being the best Wondering about my success That was then But now time Got me pressed Feeling slightly stressed Even though at times I feel like my life is one big mess I'm still blessed Because God woke me up this morning So I'm going to keep on performing To the best of my ability Cause God lies within me Nas said sleep is the cousin of death So I'm going hard until I fall asleep and take my last breath. Late Night Thoughts  I know some pretty girls that like poetry And they notice me  Trying to be known  Locally And globally  Mr. International Like Tupac Building up this capital  So I can't stop Grinding  Got to level up  So I keep on  Rising Bout to go Super Saiyan Meaning I ain't playin  No more  Bout to lay the hammer down on my demons like Thor Then soar  To new heights  My mind’s in flight Headed to my destination Calculating how much time I got left Till I make it  Ain't no telling  So I shouldn't waste it Thinking about what if I have to go for it Which means less worry And more Steph Curry  Pull up and shoot  Automatic  Every artist just wants a classic Illmatic.  The feeling of being grateful The feeling of negating the hateful On bended knee as I plead Lord, please forgive me for my greed Their voices couldn’t be any louder My father couldn’t be any prouder  And we’re speaking it all into existence Against the grain we expect no resistance I know its tough doing anything Late nights waiting on that certain ring From the heavens above Lord we all feel your love And when things get rough We just press reset Laying our heads down What’s a king without his crown? Outside of the norm Where we forever perfect our form And now I have no concerns Because you won’t see the hatred next to me Because you won’t see my enemies next to me I won’t need their approval And they won’t need mine’s.   The Come Up Pt. 2 So young and free I grew up with nothing given for free Against all the odds Oh good Lord! I don't know why I do it Maybe because it's my true grit I remember when I use to go to the shows Now the people come see me Up before the sunrise Oh what a surprise People keep asking me,  why? But I never tell them why I do it No reason given I just tell them to keep living The world is cold That's why some keep the heater close In case the warm hearts can't help And a helping hand becomes a backstab Growing pains Become a permanent visible stain We continue to see the wrong flashing lights Those cameras could  Never have been that bright Going in on this life It never was my knife Nor was it the blood on my hands This is my last stand A grown man Now what can you say? Nothing But they always find something To say All they do is talk But they haven't walked In my shoes They haven't seen what I've seen Been where I’ve been I illustrate this all with my pen My truth sets me free And these words give me life This dream keeps me up at night Tossing and turning Because the thought of not making it is disturbing That's why I keep on working Until I get the results I'm looking for Until I see my book in front of the store I won't be satisfied Till I have a bestseller worldwide Till I am one of the greatest poets alive. No Love Appeal I'm trying to make poetry my career  By next year Modern day William Shakespeare  Without the love Cause she disappeared Without warning  I guess she got tired of me performing She wanted to be the main attraction  But instead I treated her as a distraction I told you I cared  But my actions  Showed otherwise Now I'm sitting on the wrong side  Of a love song By now I know you’re probably long  Gone But I want to let you know  You were the inspiration  For some of my greatest creations I miss you so much  You got me requesting We Belong Together on the radio station  In dedication to what we had  In hopes you will hear it and come back Remembering the good times we shared I know I wasn't the best but I tried to be there I was just unaware  Of your true feelings But since I haven't heard from you lately  I'm guessing our love reached its ceiling  Since you’re no longer my lady  Love's not that appealing.  Sitting under the stars on this lonely Atlanta night Memories remain, but your love remains out of sight We were futuristic with our love Set to fly with the doves But truthfully I wanted to believe Without your love would my pain relieve itself? Drowning in my own tears My passions created my biggest fear Overshadowed by greatness I never gave you my all Blown away by my magnolia-like the fall But I heard em’ say You wanted to stay But I only listened to words of my own On paper the words were shown I couldn’t share my heart with only you Now grey clouds cover my heavenly hues I may never understand the severity This passion of mine is a rarity And I know you don’t want to wait for me But I hope you can see Like a puzzle in the beginning you can’t solve A problem I’ve tried to resolve I’m trying to change your last name And our future can change with the fame But even when the passion keeps calling My heart towards you keeps falling I don’t want nobody else but you The writings on the wall serve as your clue. The Sun is Rising on Sweet Magnolia Lane Still waiting on the world to change As John Mayer plays In the background Sounds of hope Fill the room I suddenly feel encouraged again To push through The doubt To overcome The pain I've gained so much strength From disappointment Cause every loss Usually becomes a win In the end I have learned from experience That even on cloudy days The sun can still rise And sometimes gray Can turn into blue skies Today I realized That there will be no more waiting in vain On Sweet Magnolia Lane. Pulled up to Sweet Magnolia Lane Granny's love was always sweet as sugar cane Lord we were always wild I was my mama's child Off the dome The concrete rose always had a home My words set the tone My heart was never alone Against the grain My face felt the rain The tears rolled back The pressure against me was stacked My chance to shine was now Like the morning sun on a day never seen Forever fly Smiles over the sighs Life moves at light speed In front of your people but Lord must I plead? Believing ambitions drive my path And the dust left from me is my poetic wrath. The Experience Speaking from experience I lived the coldest winter Speaking into existence I rode as a party of one in a four-seater Sweet release The war must cease Oh my My color shadows the deepest light Under the heavens my soul exists My tears exit stage right Still at high noon my day shines bright Hands to the sky While my head nods to the nature vibes Oh my I saw my smile in your eyes I felt the beat of your heart where God's love lies Now I'm like One, two, three, four… High five to God above I go harder in fact Red fox with truth leaving my opposition with heart attacks Do you love me for me? I guess my mind gave me solace Wrapped in love leaves me in a glow But on the low Even in my highs My temptation lies in between those thighs Lord this sin of mine is speaking out of turn Back to the righteousness Back to fighting crime in place of Elliott Ness My mind chimes into my heart Speaking logic into something known to be mystic This thing called love This pre-existing condition of mine’s Lord these words of mine deserve to be read between the lines A little salt and pepper added to greatness Do they know how I feel? About the hatred around me Just delivering some knowledge signed and sealed. There's a war going on outside that no man is safe from So it's survival of the fittest Words from the realest Prodigy I remember studying sociology Back in UnderGrad After I had a long talk with my dad Trying to understand how the human mind works Why we think the way we think Why we believe what we believe Why we act the way we act Say the things we say I've learned it's all based on our experiences Growing up as kids That shape us the most That's why it's important to keep the family close But the system has been breaking us up since slavery So that they can control us And own our realities Trying to determine our destinies To make sure we don't fulfill God's purpose Sadly it's been working They give us dope To take away our hope Give us guns To kill one Another aka your fellow brother Remember they want us to suffer So they change the rules Give us horrible schools Set us up Put us in jail To make sure we fail And won't prevail But don't fall for the devil's trap Educate yourself and fight back! Love Conquers Hate Ambitions of living spacious With my head in the clouds while on a spaceship My mind becomes roofless Reality drawn out becomes ruthless Giving all my love through the avant-garde Hatred from my fellow brother keeps me on guard Grandma’s love stayed on me like residue Karma forced me to pay for past dues I pray the magnolias hold up till the fourth quarter The path of my success only wishes to go further My understanding brought me to a divine force Set my ambition on an uncharted course Destroying the hatred with sweet love. Love stay with me Love don't leave me Love don't break me Love don't forsake me. Love wait for me Love don't you forget about me I thought it was suppose to be You and me for eternity Always and forever Now you think you can do better You were my treasure Even wrote you a love letter I guess that doesn’t matter Even though I climbed the tallest ladder And pronounced my love for you It wasn't good enough So I'm throwing in the towel, I'm giving up. Suddenly love turned into sadness Which quickly turned into anger Which eventually turned into hate At first this feeling felt great But I soon realized it was slowly killing me Having all this negative energy It wasn't good for me Cause we were meant to love So I learned a valuable lesson Don't slow down your progression with hate But elevate your heart with love and faith. WWJD  Living in a cold world with a mink coat Lord could I really be the GOAT? A living legend sounds about the greatest thing you ever wrote My feelings about mankind almost feel remote Everything I know is worldly But I see God so clearly The pain within could break my heart Repentance is a great start Ready, on your mark? Shine as bright as you can and repel the dark The whispers in one’s ears Braces them for their own fears Lord where does one’s faith lie How much longer must our mother’s cry Like Harry Potter, the name we never speak of Who they whisper, “the devil” I guess they would rather be rebels Words cut sharp like Bevel My faith reaches new levels Lord, Will they love you with greed like Southerners did with cotton? Or celebrate you like a Hall of Famer in Kenny Lofton?   Picture me rolling  25  Trying not to die  But the devil keeps calling me  Can't let temptation get the best of me.  So I swerve on em Break fast 40 yard dash Can I live?  Then out of nowhere he appears again Telling me to get in The car with him I know I shouldn't  But I'm tired of running And I know he is going to keep hunting me down All of a sudden  I hear a voice say wait Don't make  This fatal mistake Think about what you are doing Think about the consequences  And the lives he has ruin I don't want this to be your fate  You were born to be great Now a choice has to be made Give in Or resist  I nervously start looking around  And I found the answer lies on my bracelet WWJD (What would Jesus do?)  From that moment I knew  Which side to choose  The one who gave me life The one who sent His son to make the ultimate sacrifice  My loyalty lies with Jehovah Today I decided to become one of God's soldiers.  Baptize me in your river  Purify my soul  Make me whole  I know this will not be easy  But please bear with me As I navigate through life I will not always do what's right But I promise you that I will try my best To ace this test.  The Silver Lining  Sin is the disease  Love is the cure I've been looking for more I've been looking for more Answers to the questions of life Like when is Jesus coming back? When will I see my loved ones again that have passed? Questions no one has the answers to but I still ask I wish Lucifer never would have gotten jealous of God  I wish he would have realized that there is only one God  I wish Adam never would have bitten the forbidden fruit I wish he would of thought about the consequences before he acted Now we have to deal with the curse of sin For their mistakes But there is beauty in the struggle And love in the pain Because if none of this would have happened all we would know is perfection  Without ever having to work for it We would have possibly taken it for granted  But at least now if we make it God willing We will appreciate life without sin a whole lot more Then before  So for now I will push forward and endure Sin is death Love is life I've been waiting for Christ I've been waiting for Christ. Lord we can’t lose Because we don’t chose The hatred The blue skies have my mind going through the matrix In the presence of the Lord All on one accord The choir’s sweet sentiments strikes my heart’s chord On the way to greatness so all aboard As we watch the skies roll back The love within is full with no lack Of heart Of one another I am the keeper of my brother An essence of my mother I hear the whispers but this isn’t my shining Dressed in all black but within is my silver lining The moment for greatness is a defining one So when Christ returns my presence shines as such.  Worship  Lord forgive me for my sins The hate I withheld from my kin Those late nights’ thoughts of hating her I always felt like she didn’t care I’ll never forget about those freshmen years Lord she broke my heart and left me with some painful tears Lord you broke through the cracks Lord your love never lacks Growing up in the church Afternoons with my cousins on grandma’s porch Under the streetlights Those angels’ lights never shined so bright You brought me through the pain Bare chested with a heart full of stains From the hatred From people letting me down And me letting those same people down Lord I remain your pupil Staring at them Those people are gone and now heavenly stars. God gave me a mind to think Ears to hear Eyes to see  A mouth to speak  Hands to touch  A heart to love And I'm going to use them to lift you up Praise your name  Spread your word  Give people hope  I'm going to share my story  And give you glory By worshiping you Cause you are holy Oh so worthy  Alpha and Omega  The beginning and the end  Yahweh you have been my best friend  And I am honored to worship you  Jehovah  My father My provider  King on the throne You are God and God alone  I will forever love and worship you.  The Mind State of Young Poets: Spring Forward I fought with success Prepared for greatness while others were in recess Neighborhoods flushed with drugs good Lord it looks like a wreck If only people were paid in reality checks rather than refund checks Nothing appears new We all knew The government was out for black men The one shot down the other day was kin Questions arise How much for your soul? It was no surprise The hatred we lived in Parents asking me, “where have I been” Taking away more than they could ever give back A few hundred turns into a few more stacks Comprised in hands Where the power stands Pushing for greatness when nobody is looking out But still the haters question what your true intentions are about Too quick to pull the trigger Whose giving back? Definitely not the rich Negros And when the world asks what’s wrong, why do we remain silent? When we know God is the pilot! We all want more life We all want more time We all need more love We all want less crime. I want more unity in the community More opportunity For you and me To be all we can be. I wish you more success And less stress More wealth and good health More wins And fewer losses For the bosses. Today Do more good than evil Make more peace than war If you can help out the poor Listen more And talk less Think more and react less Do your best God woke you up this morning So you are blessed.