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Timeline of Every Anecdote from Dean's Childhood in Supernatural

winc*sties this is not for you. i'm a survivor of familial CSA and i don't want to see you in my notes.

This is super open to feedback and suggestions if I missed something. This also includes a few quotes and things from a couple of the tie-in novels where they don't conflict with canon.

Content notes: death, child abuse, alcohol

1983

Dean is 4

John & Mary used to call Dean their “little piglet” because he liked to eat so much. [1]

Dean played T-ball. [2]

Mouse Trap is Dean's favorite game. [3]

Mary would feed Dean tomato-rice soup when he was sick. [4]

Mary would sing "Hey Jude" as a lullaby. [5]

Dean really likes Mary's meatloaf. He doesn't know she gets it from Piggly Wiggly. [6]

Between May and November John and Mary had a fight and John left home for a few days. [7]

November 2 - Mary Winchester dies, Sam is 6 months old.

November 6 - Mary Winchester's funeral. Her uncle arranges a headstone even though she doesn't have a body. [8] John Doesn't go. [9]

Before November 16 – They're staying with friends, Mike and Kate. [8] John Meets Missouri. [11]

November 16 – John walks out of Mike & Kate's. Takes boys to Julie's. Goes to see Missouri. Julie gets killed. They leave Lawrence. [12] “Got the hell out of Lawrence. If I never go back, it'll be too soon. Not for Dean, though. The first thing he wanted to know was when we would go remember a home [sic]. But we don't have a home anymore, Dean. The sooner you get used to that, the better.” [13]

John leaves a box of pictures in the basement of the house. [14]

November 20 – Dean sees John kill a shapeshifter. [15] “Dean walked out of the roadhouse right when I put the final bullet into the shape-shifter's head. And he said, 'Why'd you kill him, Dad?'” [16]

November 21 – Boys are with Pam & Bill in Elgin. John's first night away from them. [17] “Here's what I wish I could say to Dean – Your brother's too young to understand any of this, but you're beginning to. And that scares me. Since your mother died, I've seen unspeakable things, and now you've seen them and that's my fault.... Until then, I can only pray that you're strong enough to look after Sam. One of us has to be.” [18]

November 25 – John meets Pastor Jim. [19]

November 29 – John gets the boys from Elgin & leaves. [20]

December - Dean still hardly talks. He never budges from John's side – "or from his brother. Every morning, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night. [21]

December 11 - Sammy has finally started sleeping through the night, and now that Dean shares a bed with him, he’s out like a light as well. [22]

December 25 - "a crooked two foot tall plastic tree, a bunch of junk food stuffed in the stockings, and a pile of sports equipment for the boys… football, basketball, soccer." [23]

December 29 - “Dean hasn't been the same since he saw me kill that shape-shifter. I don't know how to talk to him about it. He's not even five years old. Most kids his age don't even have a clear idea what death is, and he's seen it up close and personal. What do I say to him? How old does he have to be before I tell him the truth?”[24]

13.21 (okay this is technically in a dream of Sam's)

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/John%27s_Journal_(diary_entries)

14.17

5.13

12.2

5.16

2.04

"John's Winchester's Journal" by Alex Irvine

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/John%27s_Journal_(diary_entries)

John's Journal

1.09

John's Journal

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/John%27s_Journal_(diary_entries) & John's Journal

John's Journal

1984

Dean is 5

“I realized I can't leave [Dean] in school... I know he should be able to run around with other kids, who don't know how to field-strip the Browning. Well, Dean doesn't either, yet. But he's learning. He's got a talent for guns. I can see it already. And he'll need it.” [1]

May 2 – John meets Daniel Elkins. [2]

May 17 - “Sammy took his first steps yesterday. He walked toward Dean, then fell flat on his face and started crying. Life is tough, kid. Do I sound like a proud dad? I am.” [3]

1-3. John's Journal

1985

Dean is 6

January 24 - “It's been more than a year since he saw me kill a shape-shifter. He doesn't talk about it anymore. And he's stopped asking when he's going to go to school. Maybe this year, now that he's a little older, now that he knows a little more about things. I've been teaching him. Not the worst stuff, but enough so he knows that there are things that go bump in the night.” [1]

September 7 – Dean's first day of school. [2] “He asked on the way in whether kids in school learned the same stuff he'd been learning. I had to tell him that maybe it wasn't a good idea for him to talk about Dad's job on the playground. He came home on the top of the world, and he brought me worksheets with the names of the different parts of a fish...” [3]

November 2 - “Dean saw something on my face, or maybe it was just that he knew what day it is. When I got here, he came up to me and asked if I'd had a tough hunt. I couldn't talk for a minute.” [4]

November 14 – John takes Dean shooting the first time. “Took Dean shooting. If he's big enough to try to comfort me, he's big enough to start learning the tools of the trade. I only let him fire the .22, but he is a deadeye marksman. My drill sergeant would have taken him over me in a second. Times like this, I sure am proud of my boy. I have a feeling it will be different with Sammy. Maybe he's just too young to show it, but I don't think he's got the same kind of killer instinct.” [5] John takes Dean out shooting for the first time, using bottles as target practice. According to Dean, he "bullseyed every one of them." Dean remembers this story as him being “6 or 7." Dean cites this story as one of the fonder memories of his father. [6]

Rufus spent the whole year being nice. It was the worst year of his life.

1-5. John's Journal

6. 2.06

1986

Dean is 7. “For his seventh birthday, I took Dean shooting again. He wanted to fire one of the big guns – that's what he called them. I let him shoot the Browning, but I steadied his hands. Sammy wanted me to help him make Dean a card.” [1]

Dean starts having a crush on Daisy Duke. [2]

April 16 – Bill Harvelle dies. [3]

May 2 - “Sammy is three years old today. We celebrated with ice-cream cake. He was still wearing most of it when he fell asleep. Dean's sleeping too, the two of them in the same bed. The room only has one bed. I'll sleep on the floor... Some nights it's enough to watch them sleep, and know that if they start having a nightmare, I'll be right there to stop it.” [4]

September 5 – Dean starts second grade. “I watch him like a hawk. He makes me swear that I'll take good care of Sammy before he'll go to school. God, I love that kid.... Sammy's a very different kid. He hasn't taken to the idea of hunting bad guys, and he's still too young to really understand what it means to avenge his mother.” [5]

November 2 – “Dean watches his little brother like a hawk every minute, with an expression on his face that says he's willing to die to keep Sammy safe. [Mary] doesn't know how it tears me up inside to see that expression, and to know that it's there because I have drilled it into Dean that Sammy is his responsibility. He's eight [sic] years old, and I've told him his brother's life is in his hands. Mary, I didn't have any right to do that. But what else could I do?” [6]

John began the masked vampire case - looking into killings and kidnappings along Route 77. [7]

John's Journal

11.13

2.06, 2.14 & John's Journal

John's Journal

15.20

1987

Dean is 8

January 24 - Dean's school has a party for him then John takes them to Chuck E. Cheese's. [1]

John takes Dean and Sam on a donkey ride at the Grand Canyon. Dean’s donkey is very flatulent which Sam finds very funny. [2]

May 2 – John has to pull Dean out of school because a demon knows where they are. “Dean understands.” [3]

May 17 - “I'm starting to figure out you can move a kid from school to school every month, and the schools deal with it because they have to. A part of me wonders how the kids deal with it. But sons have to be soldiers. And soldiers adapt.” [4]

July 13 – A hunt goes bad for John in Portland, Maine. “We were almost to the New Hampshire state line and I'd told Dean a little about what had happened, because I was so frustrated and ashamed that I had to talk to someone. Sammy was asleep the whole time. Then Dean asked me one of those killer questions that little kids come up with. 'Dad,' he says, 'Won't the manitou go after other people now?' That's a hard thing to face. Not that he asked the question, or that he was right, but that he had a better sense of right and wrong than I did.” [5]

November 2 - “Dean asked me today what she looked like. He never talks about her on any other day but this one. I couldn't even show him a picture, so I told him what you tell a boy who asks about his dead mother. I told him that she was beautiful and kind and she loved him and Sammy more than anything in the world.” [6]

Dean has begun hunting. [7]

John's Journal

8.21

John's Journal

11.08

1988

Dean is 9

January 24 - “We're on our third move, so he might not finish third grade. He calls himself the New Kid all the time. He's been to three schools already this year. Who knows how many more.” [1]

May 2 - John is hunting a Shtriga in Wisconsin when he leaves Sam and Dean alone in a hotel room. Dean gets bored and goes out and comes back to find the Shtriga attacking Sammy. John returns in time to scare the Shtriga off. [2] “I could blame Dean, but it's my fault. There's enough blame to go around. I missed the kill, and I left Dean watching Sam, and he couldn't pull the trigger when he needed to. I haven't taught him well enough. If he is weak like that again, my boys will die... but what kind of father am I to put my a nine-year-old boy in a situation where he might have to kill to protect his brother? I'm the kind of father I have to be. I'm the kind of father who teaches his boys that no man or monster can kill their mother and get away with it.” [3]

They know Pastor Jim by this point. [4]

Dean and Sam (5) were playing dress up as Batman and Superman and jump of the roof of a shed. Sam breaks his arm and Dean took him to the E.R. on the handlebars of his bike. [5]

May – John knows Bobby by now. [6]

December 5 - “Dean's teacher called to tell me that he got a subscription to Weekly World News, and had it delivered to school. How is he paying for it? I could ask him, but he's already too sharp to give me a straight answer. And I could force him to, but there's no point. If that makes him feel more at him in this world...” [7] (Dean later misremembers the name of the newspaper.[8])

At some point before now Dean is given his first beer by Fred Jones in Salt Lake City. [9]

John's Journal

1.18

John's Journal

1.18

9.15 (mentioned again in 11.08)

John's Journal

2.03

8.08. He also apparently gives Sam his first beer too but it's unlikely it was this same time?

1989

Dean is 10

January 24 - “Dean turns ten today. Regan out of office.” [1]

Dean knows how to drive. [2] “Not young like I was when he actually taught me how to drive.” [3] (If Sam learned to drive by 9 (see 1992), it stands to reason Dean would have learned at least that early if not sooner.)

“When I was 10, I got my first B&E from borrowing some family's pay-per-view so I could watch the cage match between you and the Tower of Power.” [4]

May 2 – Sam turns six. John sends him to kindergarten. “He's such a different kid than Dean. Quiet, watchful. He's learned that there are things to fear in the world, but where Dean wants to fight them, you get the sense that Sammy watches, learns.” [5]

July 4 – Dean & Sam are in a day camp. Staying nights with Pastor Jim – camping in his yard. “On the fifth day of the camp, Dean was canoeing through an easy rapids on the Blue Earth River. Things went bad. Dean swore to me when he came back that he'd seen something – only he said 'someone' – capsize the canoe. I didn't think about it too much... until the next week when another canoe went over and the counselor paddling it died.” John pulls them from camp. [6]

Dean: "You couldn't been more than 5— you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, "Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know.... I just wanted you to be a kid... Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you... Keep you safe... Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job... I had one job..." [7]

November 2 - “Today I overheard the boys talking about her, about her death. Sammy's old enough to be asking hard questions, and I think that's making Dean think about some things that he'd put away until now. He's a tough little kid, Dean. Like me. But he's also like me in the way he holds things in. Now his little brother is asking him things and he's got to figure out a way to protect Sammy while Sammy's questions put him through the emotional wringer all over again.” [8]

Bobby takes Dean to play catch instead of “practice with the double-barrel” as John had instructed Dean. In the flash back Rufus guesses the year is around 1989. “No, we didn't shoot rifles, as a matter of fact. We threw a ball around. He's a kid, John. They both are. They're entitled.... Yeah, I know I ain't their dad.” Bobby hangs up and throws the phone down. [9]

John's Journal

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Origins_1

11.04

11.15

John's Journal

2.22

John's Journal

7.10

1980s General

(i.e. there isn't a specific date mentioned for this but I'm guessing from context that it happened in this decade)

Sam sticks army men into Baby's ashtray. [1]

Dean sticks Legos into the vents. [2]

Dean eating all of Sam's Halloween candy sometime. [3]

John taking them to see World of Wrestling. Sometime before Dean is ten. Dean calls it “one of the nicest things” John ever did. Sam remembers John getting drunk. [4]

John takes Dean fishing. When Dean tells Jack, Jack feels from his tone that it's his happiest memory of John. [5]

Dean telling Sam a stupid joke to distract him from ripping off bandaids when he was little. [6]

The first beer John shared with Dean tasted like "crap". [7]

Sam's memory of Thanksgivings: “We had a bucket of extra-crispy and Dad passed out on the couch. [8]

"I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up." [9]

Dean says he believed the TV ads about Sea Monkeys having families [10]

Dean mentions a babysitter, Mrs Chancy, who was obsessed with the TV show Dynasty [11], which ran until 1989 when Dean was ten. This could be a lie he's just telling a kid to get him to open up about his babysitter though.

"Alright, here we go. John Winchester's famous cure-all kitchen sink stew. There you go. Enough cayenne pepper in there to burn your lips off, just like Dad used to make."

"You used to read to me, um, when I was little, I— I mean, really little, from that— from that old, uh... Classics Illustrated comic book. You remember that? ... Knights of the Round Table. Had all of King Arthur's knights, and they were all on the quest for the Holy Grail. And I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad, and, and, and he was kneeling, and— and light streaming over his face..."

5.22

12.11 & 14.04

11.15

14.17

15.01

15.20

5.16

1.22

5.06

8.21

1990

Dean is 11

January 24 - “Dean turns eleven today. He asked for his own gun, and I got him one. A Seecamp LWS .32 automatic, the smallest gun I could find that offered any kind of stopping power. Dean and I poured silver slugs for it ourselves and we loaded it with alternating silver and Winchester hollow-points. He's got it in his pocket now.” [1]

January - John is injured on a hunt in Windom, Minnesota, and goes to the hospital, where he meets Kate Milligan. [2]

May 2 – They've moved around enough that Sam is behind in school. John thinks he should do more like home teaching. “I'd ask Dean to do it, but there's only so much you can pile on a kid. Having Sammy's life in his hands is enough for Dean; he can't be responsible for home-schooling Sammy too.” [3]

September 29 - Adam Milligan is born. [4]

At some point Dean makes a sawed off. He's in sixth grade. [5]

John's Journal

4.19

John's Journal

4.19

3.03

1991

Dean is 12

February – Winchesters go to Albuquerque for a few months. Dean “even talked about wanting to play basketball this spring, but I'm not sure he's serious. I think he's taking cues from me, talking about everyday stuff when I try to keep us in one place. Then when we're on the road again, all he can talk about is hunting.” [1]

March – Sam played a sunbeam in the school play and talking about a science project to enter into the school fair. John working construction. [2]

March 17 – The kids play soccer. [3]

April 1 – John quits his job. Mrs Lyle kidnaps Sam – taking him to a regional science fair but not. “Dean came through. I don't have any words for how proud I am of him. His brother's under some kind of spell, there's a giant monster made out of train parts coming after me, and he has the presence of mind to find the journal and read the exorcism out of it. I almost lost both of my boys today.... How am I going to explain to Sammy that we're not going back to school?... To top it all off, I had to give Sammy a sharp lecture on not talking to strangers. While I was on the phone with Bobby, he just got out of the car and went up to a black Seville. I read him the riot act – Dean too, since he let it happen and it's his job to watch Sammy. All Sammy would say about it was that the guy wanted to know where we were going.” [4]

April 7 – At Bobby's. [5]

April 18 – Silas, friend of Bobby's tells John Sam is special. [6]

April 19 – John taking Dean deer hunting. “It's out of season but the Dakotas are lousy with Deer and Dean needs to pull a trigger to sharpen him up.... The hunting trip was nearly a disaster. Dean missed the shot. I sent him after the buck, a beautiful twelve-pointer, and he dropped the gun when he tripped on the trail. Then out of nowhere comes Sammy, who picks up the gun and lays that big boy out. A seven-year old... well, almost eight. Then he tells me that the deer had taken Dean's gun, and that Sammy had to protect him.” Sam got a ride from the Black Seville to the trail. They go back to see Silas. Dean & John leave for an hour but they see the Seville. Go back to Silas'. John leaves Dean outside with Sam on the porch but John finds Silas butchered inside. [7]

Dean to Bobby: “You used to take us hunting. Remember? Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you. Shoot, you must have taught us most of the outdoor tracking we know.” Bobby: “Yeah, what I could get to stick. I never could get you little grubs to pull a trigger on a single deer.” Dean: “You’re talking about Bambi, man.” Bobby: “You don't shoot Bambi, jackass. You shoot Bambi's mother.” [8] (This interaction isn't directly referencing the story above but it adds context, I think.)

April 20 – John has kidnapped Anderson, from the Black Seville, stolen the car and Dean killed Anderson. “My oldest son is blooded.” [9]

December 25 - Sam (8) and Dean are at a motel in Broken Bow, Nebraska. John is hunting while Sam and Dean spend Christmas alone together. Sam reads John's Journal and finds out that Mary's death was supernatural, monsters are real, and that John hunts them. He confronts Dean, who confirms it. Sam gives Dean an amulet. [10] John suspects Sam has been reading the journal. Says he left them presents. Dean stole night vision goggles from the gun show in Amarillo to give to John from him & Sam. [11] “They're both starting to act out a little, because we're apart so much. Sam gets resentful and has trouble keeping his temper. Dean tries to fix everything and keep us together as a team.” [12]

John's Journal

7.09

John's Journal

3.08

John's Journal

1992

Dean is 13

January 24 – they celebrate at Mama Janer's in Flint, Michigan. [1]

March 30 - “I thought the lesson was learned back in Wisconsin, but the same thing almost happened again. I left the boys next at the beach in Two Lakes State Park and went looking for a skinwalker, and then it was Ichi all over again. Only this time the skinwalker took on the appearance of a park ranger it had killed, and nearly got the boys to come with it because they trusted the uniform. I still can't completely trust them on a hunt. I took it down, and lit into the two of them. Especially Dean. I have to be hard on him because one of these days I'm not going to be around, and he's the one who's going to have to look out for his brother. He's a badass, though. I thought I was tough when I was thirteen, but Dean would have kicked my ass six ways to Sunday.” [2]

John buys a Playboy featuring Anna-Nicole Smith, both boys end up reading it. [3]

June - Sam tells John he is afraid of the monster in his closet and John gives him a .45. [4] Sam sleeps with it under his pillow and sleeps soundly for 5 nights in a row. [5]

Sam wants to go hunting with Dean. Dean says John said no. John calls to ask Sam to come. [6]

Sam learns to drive when he's nine. [7]

John's Journal

7.22

1.01

John's Journal

11.08

John's Journal (mentioned in 1999)

1993

Dean is 14

January 24 – Dean goes to the movies with "girlfriend" (according to John) Katie. “Quite the ladykiller that kid. Like I was at his age.” John thinks Dean is like him and trouble. “He's like me. If i'm not careful with him, by the time he's twenty he'll have left a trail of kids and arrests warrants all over the country.” [1]

January – Motel Baba Yaga case. Dean says, “I was babysitting you when I was your age”. Sam says "I'm pretty sure that's illegal." Dean sees the nest, a pile of dead kids and has "nightmares about it for the longest time." [2]

May – Sam has been on a soccer team. He had a game and John took him bow hunting instead. They need to learn weapons because “there are demons after Sammy. He needs to know how to fight them, and Dean needs to know how to protect him.” [3]

Summer - John takes them hiking in the Rocky Mountains. One day he fills packs for Sam & Dean and takes them up a mountain and leaves them around dark, telling them to wait for an hour then try to find the way back and that he doesn't expect them for days. They find the packs are full of mostly useless supplies. John says it's a lesson not to trust anyone. [4] (DM me if you want the full quote. It's really sad.)

December 25 – Joplin, Missouri. Sam & Dean give John a book on theosophy which John guesses they stole. [5]

John's Journal

15.16

John's Journal

"Witches Canyon" by Jeff Mariotte, 195-198

John's Journal

1994

Dean is 15

January – Dean helps John “take out a spirit haunting a grocery owned by an Indian family in Erie, Pennsylvania.” It wasn't as simple as burning bones because of different traditions. [1]

May 2 – Sam asks for a computer for his birthday. John gets him a Macintosh Performa. “Looks like Team Winchester just took a big leap ahead when it comes to gathering information.” John mentions Bobby helped him get fake credit cards. [2]

Summer - Sam and Dean spend part of the summer being looked after by Donna, a babysitter (and maid at the Mayflower) in Housatonic, Massachusetts, while John hunts. One time John is gone for two weeks. It is the summer before Sam enters 6th grade, and he assigns himself a summer reading list. Dean possibly has a crush on Donna. [3]

October - They are living In Bismark (North Dakota?). Sam has a crush on Andrea Howell & has a really bad experience at her Halloween party, throwing up. Sam hides in the woods until Dean comes and gets him. [4]

Sam still believes in the Easter Bunny until close to here. [5]

John's Journal

5.12

14.04

10.12

1995

Dean is 16

January 24 – Montana hunting a werewolf with bows. John says he'll let Dean take the lead on the hunt the next day. [1]

January 25 – Dean does very well. Good shot. [2] Dean's first Werewolf. Sam go to the body burning. "So. I pick up this crossbow. And I hit that ugly sucker with a silver-tipped arrow right in his heart. Sammy's waiting in the car, and uh, me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there and looking into the fire, and I'm thinking to myself, I'm sixteen years old. Most kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I'm seeing things that they'll never even know. Never even dream of." [3]

Dean spends two months at Sonny's Home for Boys after being caught shoplifting. [4]

April 20 - Dean's award for New York Wrestling Champion. [5] John is in Oklahoma City hunting. [6]

Sam spends all of his time on the computer or arguing with John. “He wants to be in one place, live a normal life. The older he gets, the more he wants it. But the older he gets, the more I'm going to need him to help on the hunt. He's got to understand that.” [7]

November 13 – Sam's soccer team won division championship. John writes that he's proud of him and that he'll keep the trophy. [8]

November 24 - Sam has his first traditional Thanksgiving dinner at his crush Stephanie’s house. He has been attending a school called McKinley for two weeks. [9]

John's Journal

2.03

9.07

John's Journal

3.03 & John's Journal Book

5.16

1996

Dean is 17

January 24 – John takes Dean shooting. Then sends him to hunt. “I've let him take the lead before but I've always been there to back him up. This time he's on his own. Partly it's a test, and partly I wanted some time with Sammy. Should be no problem for Dean. Ghosts of two nuns haunting St. Stephen's Indian Mission in Riverton, Wyoming. Simple salt-and-burn mission. Nuns in love with each other, then discovered. Killed themselves. We scoped the situation out, figured that something must be left behind that's now a focus for the haunting. Bible, rosary beads, some small article that's hidden somewhere in their room. I figured Dean would take care of it no problem, but I still stayed close by with Sammy.... Dean took care of the nuns just like I thought he would, but I don't think I'm going to be sending him on any more solos soon.” [1]

Sam finishes sixth grade a year late. He's mad about it. [2]

July 4 - Dean and Sam set off fireworks in a field and almost burn it down. [3]

At some point when Sam was 13 he ran away for two weeks while under Dean's watch in Flagstaff, Arizona, living off pizza in a cabin and befriending a dog he called Bones. Dean scoured the whole town looking for him and worried he might have died, and John was furious when he found out. [3]

John's Journal

5.16

1997

Dean is 18

January 24 – John gives Dean the Impala. “I've taught Dean a lot of what I know about working on cars, which was everything until 1983.... He knows I'll still be driving it, but he's a man now, and since he's already made his share of kills, this was the only right of passage I could think of. He goddamn well better take care of it.” [1]

When he's 13, Sam briefly wants to be a magician. [2]

May – Sam has been having strange dreams. “Plus now that he's hitting adolescence, he's a giant pain in the ass. Dean just chased girls and snuck around with beers in his coat pockets.” Sam just shuts down or wants to argue. [3]

June 16 – John claims Dean graduates high school & gets a diploma. John says Sam will be graduating when he's nineteen and will be mad about it. [4] But Dean didn't graduate high school. He got a GED. [5]

July 4 - Sam and Dean “burned down that field” when they set off their own fireworks display. [6]

Summer - The Winchesters hunt a werewolf. [7]

November - Sam and Dean attend Truman High in Fairfax, Indiana, for 3 or 4 weeks, while John is on a hunt that was originally supposed to be 2 weeks but ended up taking longer than expected. Dean is in 12th Grade. It is the third school they have attended since September. [8]

John's Journal

4.12

John's Journal

5.01

5.16

4.13

1998

Dean is 19

Sam is a mathlete. [1]

Summer - While John and Dean are off hunting a Kitsune, Sam stays in Lincoln, Nebraska, and does research for them. While there, he meets a girl and has his first kiss - only to discover that John and Dean's hunt has circled back on him. [2]

May – John feels Sam is shirking his duty. Dean and Sam don't get along as well. [3]

July - Dean goes on a solo "five states in five days" road trip, but ends up spending most of it in Cicero, Indiana, with Lisa Braeden. In the meantime, John & Sam "tie up a hunt" in Orlando, Florida. [4]

Dean meets Rhonda Hurley, she makes him try on her pink, satin panties and he likes it. [5]

At some point they spend time with Travis, the hunter. [6]

4.04

7.03

John's Journal

3.02

5.04

4.04

1999

Dean is 20

January 24 – Dean in Ohio. “Hasn't called in a couple of days. Tracking a possible poltergeist. He's supposed to call in every night. Mission discipline is critical.” [1]

John's Journal

1990s General

Dean trying to cook Winchester Surprise on a hotplate with food (baloney and sliced cheese) that it seems Sam shoplifted in the rain. John gets home and throws it out. [1] In Lebanon John tells Sam he remembers this and apologizes to Sam for it. [2]

Sam and Dean visited the Cleveland Botanical Gardens on a field trip. [3]

Dean going to CBGB "way underage" and John coming to get him. [4]

Hunting the chupacabra in Mexico. Sam is an olderish teenager when he says this happened the year before. [5]

John making Dean be bait, [6]

Dean used to live on “Nerve Damage” (“10 times the legal limit of caffeine”) as a kid. [7]

Escalating prank wars? [8]

Could be 80s too: Dean: “Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Sam: “You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Dean: “Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great.” [9]

14.11

14.13

5.16

10.09

11.10

14.14 production draft. Corroborated by 1.20. Putting this in 1990s and not 1980s is very generous imo.

13.08

1.17

3.08

2000

January 1 – Dean has a terrible hangover. Immobile. John is also hungover. [1]

January 24 - Dean is 21. “I'd buy him a beer if I thought it would be something new. He's also old enough to buy his own guns now. I tried to raise him right, and it looks like I did. He's a scam artist, a ladies' man, and an absolutely loyal son. He knows what's right and doesn't hesitate to do it. I'm proud of him. Now that he's hunting on his own I don't see as much of him, but I know he's out there. When I call him on a job, he's right there every time. I've spent the last sixteen years afraid that I was going to screw him up somehow. Maybe now I can forget about that.” [2]

May 2 – John buys Sam a Mac for his birthday. [3]

1-3 John's Journal

2001

Dean is 22. He's away from John in Arkansas. [1]

May 2 – Sam & John aren't getting along. “He hunts when we need him to, but he's never committed himself the way Dean did. Dean's never known any other way to live, or if he has, he doesn't act like it. He's playing the role he was born to play.... I've given [Sam] more slack that I ever gave Dean.... Dean never even thought about college. We used to joke about it once in a while.” John wants to convince Sam not to go to college. Sam helps hide their trail of credit cards. [2]

Sam smokes weed maybe. [3]

John's Journal

11.19

Pre-2002, 2000s General

Sam & Dean driving 1,000 miles for an Ozzy show. [1]

Driving two days for a Jayhawks game. [2]

John catches Lee and Dean 'wasted' on a hunt. [3]

John plays Dean and Lee “Good Ol Boys” before hunts. “Listen up boys this is real music. [4]

Sam used to try to get him & Dean to do 'honest work' rather than hustling pool.[5]

The Las Vegs annual trip. [6]

Sam ran tech for a production of Oklahoma. [7]

5.22

15.17

5.22

7.08 (this seems like a stretch, imo)

10.05

Post-2002, 2000s General

Dean sleeps with Annie. [1]

Dean sees Lee while Sam's in college. [2] Possibly the 'cult thing in Arizona' 'what that thing did to that family, those kids.' Because Lee does one more job after that in Texas and retires.

At some point Dean hunts a Vetala and learns they usually hunt in pairs. [3]

7.19

15.17

7.11

2002

Dean is 23. John imagines he feels physically invincible. [1]

March 8 - Sam says he's leaving hunting to go to Stanford University. John says if he leaves to stay gone. [2] “And now he's going to college? He can go to hell, is where he can go.” (“Dean has always responded to discipline because he believes in the mission”) [3]

June 13 – Sam graduated high school (he's 19). John thinks he's mad it took him a year longer. [4]

August 31 – Sam leaves & John tells him to stay gone. [5]

September - Adam Milligan meets John Winchester. [6] (This could be any time from now til 2003 but I think it would be now because John will want to feel he can replace Sam or do something right.)

John's Journal

1.01, 1.20

John's Journal

4.19

2003

Dean is 24

January 24 - “I was twenty-four when I married his mother. Sorry, kid. Every boy has to cut the apron strings sometime, and for you it's not going to be until we kill off a supernatural entity that seriously needs killing.” [1]

Dean dates Cassie Robinson in Athens, Ohio, for a few weeks, while she finishes up her senior year of college (at Ohio University). Cassie breaks up with Dean after Dean tells her about hunting. [2] It lasts less than two months. [3]

May 2 – Dean & John are leaving Ohio. John overhears Dean on the phone talking about Sam. John notices Dean has been in a rough mood. [4]

June 13 – Dean hears about a succubus in Brooklyn from Richie and heads out quickly. [5]

June 21 - Dean is involved in a hunt for the father of Cole Trenton, in Nyack, NY. [6]

October 9 – Poltergeist case in Kittanning, PA. [7] John mentions that he's been visiting Palo Alto but not like seeing Sam. [8]

John gets taken from this year into the future in "Lebanon." He is sleeping in the Impala and Dean calls him and he tells him he'll be back soon. [9]

John's Journal

1.13

5.11

John's Journal

John's Journal 3.04

10.02

1.04 & John's Journal

John's Journal

14.13

2004

Dean is 25

End of June – John visits Palo Atlo & sees that Sam has a girlfriend. [1]

September 29 - John takes Adam to a ballgame for his 14th birthday. [2]

John's Journal Book

4.19

2005

Dean is 26, dude.

January 1 - “When I was twenty-six, I'd been married for two years and had a toddler. Dean's never been with a woman for more than a couple of weeks at a time. I've prevented him from being a father.” [1]

January 24 – John mentions he's been telling Dean more about the demon stuff he's learning from Bobby. [2]

Summer - John teaches Adam to drive using the Impala (this is after John gave Dean the car for his 18th). [3]

September 29 - John buys Adam a beer when he's 15. [4]

October 3 - John cuts off contact with Dean (John is in Jericho, Dean in New Orleans). [5]

October 28 – John leaves journal in Jericho & goes after demon. [6]

End of October – Dean comes to get Sam.

Dean: "I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say. I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead. And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared." [7]

John's Journal

4.19

1.01 & John's Journal

John's Journal

15.20

General Comments

(i.e. just quotes and things that are either too general to place in time or give windows into Dean's feelings about John at various points)

Toni Bevell saying about John's drunken rages and weeks of abandonment. Also pointing out that Dean & Sam didn't tell Mary about it. [1]

Dean says he & Sam could have benefited from a mother's dating advice. [2]

Sam talks about worrying when John & Dean would be out on a hunt and he wouldn't hear from them for days. He thought about what he would do. [3]

Sam saying it seemed to him Dean & John bonded over hunting. [4]

Dean's allusions to liking dancing/wanting to be a dancer. [5]

John saying hunter gatherings were trouble and in general keeping Sam & Dean away from them. [6]

Dean: “I know things got dicey… you know, with dad… the way he was. And I just… I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should’ve. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes when I was… when I was away, you know it wasn’t ‘cause I just ran out, right? Dad would… he would send me away when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.” [7]

Dean: “Ah well, growing up it was a… it was always nice to check out once in a while. I like to watch movies where I know the bad guy is going to lose.” [8]

“you know kids, no matter what they still want the old man's approval” about an abusive dad. Dean agrees to it. [9]

Dean drinks to “crappy childhoods”. [10]

Dean: “Jo, you've got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young... I wish I could do something else... Jo, you've got a mother that worries about you. Who wants something more for you. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. Might be hard to find later.” [11]

Sam: “his drill sergeant thing worked with you but it didn't work with me.” [12]

Sam: “Dad always said it was temporary, Dean. He said it for 22 years.” [13]

Dean: “And I get what I've been doing lately, you know, what with the yelling and the acting like a prison guard. It's just, that's not me. You tell yourself you're not gonna be something, you know? But my dad was exactly like this. All the time. It's scaring the hell out of me.” [14]

Sam: “I wish I could have that kinda innocence.” Dean: “If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.” [15]

“I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it...the more I wish Dad had lied to us.” [16]

Dean says he's been wanting John and Mary back together since he was four. [17]

Dean learned to use CB radios to look for leads from truckers. John used them all the time. [18]

“Growing up on the road, no matter where Dad dragged us, no matter what we did, there was always a TV. And you know what was on that TV? Scooby and the gang.” [19]

Sam: "And when we were kids how many times did we tell dad we were fine just to make him happy?!" [20]

Sam says explicitly that they had to hustle pool to eat. [21] Additionally, Sam says John made them do this. [22]

Travis: "you ever been really hungry? I mean, haven't-eaten-in-days hungry?" Dean: a 'yeah' so emphatic his voice cracks. Sam: silence. [23]

John: “You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say 'It's okay, Dad'... You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once.” [24]

12.21

11.12

11.18

12.20

7.16 & 15.10

2.03 & 12.06

14.12

14.04

13.02

10.12

2.06

13.04

6.02

1.18

5.06

14.13

13.11

13.16

14.16

15.11

1.08

4.04

2.01

Shoutout to these great timelines as well! http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Timeline_(Pre-series) & https://supernatural.fandom.com/wiki/Chronology_of_Supernatural

#supernatural #deanwinchtser #dean winchester #spn #timeline #john winchester #john winchesters a+ parenting #baby dean #sam winchester #weechesters #info dump #spn text post

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onp4012 · 4 years

Text

Romanian monsters and myths

I’ve seen that some of you want to hear more about those monsters and myths, so I am ready to spoil them.

Moroi

As popular as the Strigoi is the Moroi, an evil entity that comes from the spirit of an unbaptized dead child. In most parts of the country, Strigoi’s and Moroi’s are considered separate entities, but in Oltenia they are confused. The Moroi is the dead who have to return from the pit to bring trouble to family and friends. According to folk tales, an unbaptized dead child is sure to turn into a Moroi. Unlike Strigoi’s, where the transformation came almost immediately after death, the Moroi’s waited seven years to rise from the pit. When seven years have passed since his death(because number 7 is considered a magic number), the soul asks to be received in the kingdom of heaven and cries out "Baptism, Baptism!" or according to other sources "Cross, cross!". If anyone hears him then he can save him by giving him baptism: "The son or daughter of God, John or Mary, is baptized in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, Amen!". The ritual is completed by a piece of cloth that is thrown on the grave of the unbaptized baby. If this ritual is not performed, the soul does not find peace and turns into an evil spirit, known as a Moroi. The Moroi haunts the owners of the land where he was buried. It makes the owner's animals and children sick, who eventually have to leave the land to avoid a tragedy. It is a nocturnal creature that manifests itself especially on New Year's Eve. It is said that it can leave its native land by metamorphosing into a dog. If it receives food, the dog-mule does not cause damage and does not scare those who cut it off. Encounters with the Moroi in the middle of the night are usually fatal. The victim either falls in bed for a long time or finds an end until dawn.

Pricolici

Is a werewolf/vampire fusion in the Romanian folklore. Pricolici, similar to Strigoi, are undead souls that have risen from the grave to harm living people. While a Strigoi possesses anthropomorphic qualities similar to the ones it had before death, a pricolici always resembles a wolf. Malicious, violent men are often said to become Pricolici after death, in order to continue harming other humans. Even as recently as modern times, many people living in rural areas of Romania have claimed to have been viciously attacked by abnormally large and fierce wolves. Apparently, these wolves attack silently, unexpectedly and only solitary targets. Victims of such attacks often claim that their aggressor wasn't an ordinary wolf, but a Pricolici who has come back to life to continue wreaking havoc.

Samca

Samca is a female, grotesque, horror and demonic spirit that ruins underage children and pregnant women’s health. She allegedly has long, disheveled hair, crooked fingers that end with sharp nails, fire-spitting mouth and hands made of iron. Legend has it, she’ll turn up at the end of each month in front of a young child or a pregnant woman and either kill the poor soul or leave him/ her crippled for life. According to the myth, the spirit has not one, but nine different names. Samca enjoys torturing women in labor, sometimes killing them. She also either kills their their children, or blesses them with a disease bearing her name. A children suffering from Samca will have seizures, cry all the time, sigh a lot and eventually die. If one writes all of her names inside his house, Samca will not be allowed to enter. She is thought to be the wing of Satan, and she is said to have tried to kill baby Jesus, but was stopped by Michael ( the archangel, not Jackson). She can also change appearance, in order to deceive mortals.

Pâca (Pafa)

Pâca, also known as Pafa, is, according to Romanian mythology, the spirit of tobacco and smoking. Romanians have imagined her as a woman as old at the world itself, ugly and black, having horns on her head and a big, long nose, swollen eyes, tusks and talons, a tail and a pipe in her mouth. Flames and black smoke come out of her throat and she reeks of tobacco. When Pâca came out from the depths of Hell, death spreading smoke came out with her. Then her sons, the demons (dracii), gave birth to a seed which they sowed. The plant sprung from that seed is called buruiana dracului ( the Devil’s weed) or tămâia dracului (the Devil’s incense). As you may have guessed, this plant is what we call tobacco. Then some other demons invented the pipe, for people to worship Pafa by inhaling the smoke made by the plant the devils had sowed in her name. Pâca‘s children also invented snuff tobacco. The funny part is that God, upon seeing what the people were doing, took their tobacco leaves and instead of destroying them (since he’s almighty according to christians, right?), mixed them with basil (so they could smell nicer?) and gave them back to people, teaching them how to use the new product. (Good job, God)

Crasnicul

Crasnicul, or Crâsnicul, is the child born out of a woman’s union with a demon. Apparently, he looks like a cross between a piglet and a normal kid. However, as opposed to the latter, the first thing this demon spawn does after birth is not crying, but running around the house screaming. I bet it sounds similar to Dani Filth’s work with Cradle. Somehow, my intuition tells me their similarities go beyond sound, and we could also link the two aesthetically. In some areas, people thought you should trap the thing in a stove and burn it alive. Other believe that the Crasnic is born after an eleven months gestation period. It is also said that the Crasnic has a hellish desire to bite and kill the people around, immediately after birth. After he’s done with them, he (it?) will try to go back to where he came from. To prevent all this, the midwife will wrap him in a cloth and call the mother’s relatives to bludgeon him to death. Imagine how many malformed children have been bludgeoned to death just because people thought they were the result of the mother’s union with the Devil. Sad. But a great Horror image, nonetheless. ;-; (Ain’t very proud).

Muma Pădurii (Mother Forest)

Is an ugly and mischievous or mad old woman living in the forest (in the heart of the virgin forests, in a hut/cabin or an old tree). She is the opposite of fairies such as a "Fairy" Zână. She is also the protector of the animals and plants, brewing potions and helping injured animals. She cures the forest if it's dying, and she keeps the unwanted trespassers away driving them mad and scaring them to flee. She can be associated with witches (like the witch from the story of "Hansel and Gretel"), but she's a neutral "creature", harming only those who harm the forest. (She’s my favorite “horror one”, I really respect her.)

Iele

Ieles, evil fairies in Romanian mythology are the most mysterious and fascinating creatures that Romanian legends have been talking about for hundreds of years. Sources of inspiration for poets and writers, who turned them into literary characters, the ieles are also the subject of folk studies in which the authors tried to explain both the origin and the meaning of the creatures. Supernatural female creatures appearing in groups on the plains or in the woods, singing and dancing in steamy or undressed clothes, leaving behind signs of circles of fire. It’s said that they are the result of an incestuous relationship between the Sun and the Moon, so they were cursed to send their daughters on earth. This is the portrait of the ieleles, described by folklorists and folk tales over time. Legends about iele, which differ from region to region, say that the creatures appear in groups of three, five or seven. The stories depict the evil fairies in Romanian mythology as very beautiful, dressed in steamy clothes or simply naked. In the story they appear at night, in the fields and in the forests, far from the eyes of the world. Legends also say that the iels burn crazy and cheerful choruses that the eyes of ordinary mortals should not see. Behind them are signs of circles of fire in the burning grass. (In my region, it’s said that they are wives of unfaithful husbands that cheated on them, at which, the woman committed suicide in a river or was simply killed by her husband.)

#romania #myths #legends #monsters #transylvania #romanianmythicalcreatures #romanianmyths #pricolici #Samca #strigoi #iele #para #crasnicul

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nukyster-blog · 3 years

Text

Changing Course Chapter 27) Raven named Utstøtt

.-.-.

He should be exhausted, but Ivar was wide awake, back in shackles and frustrated. Worrisome thoughts ate their way into his subconscious like maggots feasting on rotting flesh. Everytime he closed his eyes, images appeared; of his mother waving her last goodbye, his one-eyed father being eaten by a flock of ravens, and of the fair-maiden, walking past him into her dread filled future. Even Piglet’s dark eyes and temper came into view.

Ivar could no longer pinpoint who he was. He had been a lot of things; a prince, a despised brother, a cherished son. A disgrace.

He’d become a lot of things, too; a slave, a savior, de martelaar, the bloody bear of Kattegat, a cursed one.

And he was and always would be a cripple, nature’s mistake. Possibly a changeling and the reason for his father’s absence.

He held so many titles. Too many, and he no longer knew which one to hold onto and which one to throw away forever. What use was it to ponder over his royal blood, as it had been spilled countless times by his masters?

But to embrace the title of a slave? Never. The Giant could flog him over forty times, break his useless legs and spit on his grave, but he’d never fully bow to the rulers of De Haar.

Another toss and turn, another long sigh of frustration, and Ivar crawled on his side to stare in envy at his sleeping companion.

Although spring had kindly rid the shed of cold, after twilight, Piglet still turned into his shadow. No longer would she cling onto his body for heat, but she’d sleep at his side.

It no longer bothered him, not even that high pitch weeze she’d make as she’d fall deeply asleep. Or how her stone cold feet always managed to find their way up against his knees.

There was a level of trust from her behalf and it was an odd and unfamiliar sensation to receive such a gift from someone else. It was a fragile treasure, one he’d broken countless times. Yet the shards and shatters always magically seemed to restore, as he’d proven his loyalty to the slave maiden.

There was this strange balance between them, one that at times made him push her away and yet drew him closer and closer.

“Why?”, he whispered to the sleeping form of Piglet, “why do I bother to care for you? You are just a soil skinned slave”.

His words were meant to sound harsh and insulting, but they came out so hopeless and quiet.

.-.-.

Ivar had been very wrong about one thing. He most definitely hadn’t missed cleaning chamber pots. Retching, his back arched against the stone well as the stench of human waste mercilessly filled his nostrils.

What should be a miracle actually felt like a punishment; at dawn the Giant had released him from his chains, hoisted Ivar on his shoulders, and tossed him into the midst of the cobblestoned centre.

He’d been freed and turned into the laugh of the town, as he’d suffered his way through the chamber pots. The stench already sank into his skin and Ivar was fully aware that the Giant unleashed him only to torture him. Yesterday, he’d been able to cleanse his body for the first time in months, and now he stank even worse than before.

Even Piglet, queen of poor personal hygiene, scrunched up her nose as she rapidly dumped his breakfast at his feet.

Ivar did not blame her and, frustrated, he whipped at the flies circling around his head.

After fulfilling his duty, the Giant picked him up again and carried him over to the entrance of the castle. Dropping him to the floor like a sack of shit, he handed Ivar a bucket and a cloth, indicating that he’d better start scrubbing.

This task was less revolting and allowed Ivar to embrace the meager glimpse of daylight. Although his stiff muscles and knees ached, he counted this moment as a humble blessing. To be outside, breathe in fresh air, and be able to observe the residence of de Haar. Small children playing silly games around the well, carts bringing in new livestock, the linen maidens handing out loads of fresh laundry. A peaceful scenery, a delight for the eye.

But that wasn’t what filled Ivar’s heart with content. Now that he was deployed to another part of the Castle, he was able to observe far more interesting aspects; the specific amount of guards and their route. Without drawing any attention, he was able to glance at their weaponry. From the main entrance, it was easy to view the main gate and how it was being watched by two guards. Two, it took two full grown men to open the gate. Now that was a very important discovery, as this meant Ivar wouldn’t be able to escape during nighttime, when the gate would be closed.

‘Unless I grow wings’, Ivar thought to himself as he enviously glanced up at the circle of ravens flying high in the air.

Ivar pulled himself onto the fifth step of the stone stairway when his ears perked at the sound of distressed squeaking.

A hatchling lay in the middle of the main entrance, ready to be stomped to death. A little puzzled about the baby bird's previous whereabouts, Ivar crawled closer to inspect the tiny little thing.

It looked hideous, mostly bald with tufts of light feathers. The baby bird was defenseless and incapable of fleeing as the limp wings lacked strength and feathers, it’s eyes hadn’t even opened up yet.

Ivar glanced up again, scanning the rooftops and walls until his eyes rested on a raven’s nest submerged in between roof tiles. Two ravens flew on and off to provide food for their offspring. Neither of the parents seemed aware or bothered by the unfortunate youngest who’d taken a massive tumble down.

The heavy footsteps of the Giant marched close and without any hesitation Ivar picked up the bundle of cold naked flesh and stored it inside the pocket Piglet sewed in to smuggle food.

Meaty fingers raked through Ivar’s hair and yanked him up onto his knees with a pained hiss. The Giant was not pleased with his slave taking a break. With force, Ivar received the cloth back in his hand while his face was shoved into the dirty water of the bucket. Reliving vividly how he’d nearly drowned inside the well, Ivar squirmed, gasped and whittered.

The threat of drowning was short but powerful and the moment his lungs were allowed to fill themselves back up with air, Ivar’s hand turned into fist and dutifully began scrubbing the entrance of De Haar.

.-.-.

Piglet was in a state of pure bliss with so many new animals inside the shed. Sheep with lambs, a flock of chickens, and six young calves were stored inside, all with hungry mouths to feed.

“You’re working yourself to death for those stupid animals”, Ivar felt the need to tell her.

Of course, his statement fell on deaf ears and Piglet happily slaved herself through countless troughs of fresh water, bales of hay, and handfuls of grain. She then still remained strong enough to fill up Ivar’s trough and announced he stank. Which he did, there was no denying that.

“Use this”, Piglet said as she handed him a black lump of lard, motioning by scrubbing her own arm and face, “it helps”. Ivar recognised the structure of the lump; it came close to the herbal soaps their elderly made in Kattegat. It was a time consuming process, not to mention very delicate work.

Ivar pulled the tunic over his head and scrubbed the greasy lump over his smelling skin and washed himself. As he rid himself from the stench of human waste, Piglet came back with supper.

“Piglet, you know a lot about herbs and ointments”, Ivar stated, referring not only to the soap, but also to the professional way she’d tended his wounds. “How do you know all of this?”

Piglet paused, shoving a handful of potato into her mouth and chewed slowly, buying herself some time, because by the Gods, his question meant revealing something about herself.

“Before you, there was another cripple, but not her legs. No-”, Piglet tapped her index finger against her temple a couple of times, “in here. She meant no harm, but she talked. All the time, never shut up”, Piglet gestured towards the stairs, “I slept up there, called her Rattle-mouth. Her real name was Mabelia, not that anyone cared. She taught me about plants, herbs, soap, how to disgust men, keep them away. She was my friend”, Piglet added, sincerely.

“Was?” Ivar noticed how she’d spoken in the past tenses.

“The Toothless burned her alive”, Piglet whispered bitterly, “everyone knew about her special gifts. She knew things. She helped people, she cured sickness, wounds, colds. Never asked for anything in return. She saved lives, until she couldn’t. And the Toothless blamed her for that”.

“Who died, Piglet?” Ivar asked, “who’s the one she couldn’t save?”

Piglet stared at him but seemed to look right through to him: “his son, born in breach, never able to draw his first breath.”

The Giant lost his son. Oddly enough, that made the man seem less untouchable and more human.

“She was accused of witchcraft. Toothless stated she purposely murdered his son for her Lord, the devil. She burned the same day his son was buried. Mabelia Rattle-mouth at the stake with her tongue cut out, all because she failed to save his son.”

“Yet you survived”, Ivar stated sharply, “you were her friend. A witch’s friend.”

“I spoke lies, that she bewitched me, that she talked to the Devil night after night. I caused her to burn, saved my own skin.” Piglet told her story pragmatically but the guilt that crushed her was unmistakable. It took over her whole being, she seemed to shrink and cower away.

Ivar wanted to lash out at her, because that had been a gutless act on her behalf. Although it wasn’t his betrayal, her confession felt like a stab in the back. For he’d taken a flogging for Piglet, one that nearly caused him his life and left him scarred forever. He’d never expected her to return the favour, but to hear her say she’d sold out a friend, yes, that put her in a completely different light.

Yet, all the poor young woman had done was simply survive. No doubt, Mabelia would have burned without Piglet’s lies, for failing the Giant’s son.

A muffled squeak eventually broke the silence between Ivar and Piglet. Ivar had completely forgotten about the baby bird hiding in the safety of his tunic. During the day he’d been so focused on his tasks, the small animal warming up due to his body heat, becoming a small bundle of warmth, skin and a heartbeat.

Ivar picked up his tunic and scooped the bird up. In his large hand the bird seemed even smaller and so fragile.

“You’ve saved a bird? Why?” Piglet asked curiously, as Ivar never before showed much care to any of the animals aside from the pigs. And that care had only been there because it had been his task.

Ivar shrugged, still unable to answer that question for himself.

Piglet leaned in for a closer look. “Does it have a name?”

“He,” Ivar snapped, “it’s a he and he does have a name: Utstøtt.”

Piglet’s brows furrowed as she hadn’t learned that word yet, “what does that mean?”

Ivar’s fingers petted the small beak of the bird, “Outcast.”

.-.-.

Over the course of days, Utstøtt’s feathers started to flourish and his eyes opened. That was how Ivar understood his subconscious reasoning for saving the young bird. Instead of growing ink black feathers as all ravens do, Utstøtt’s feathers were white as snow. Another abnormal feature was Utstøtt’s eyes. His right was milky and pupil-less, while his left eye was icy blue.

Had Utstøtt’s fall from the nest been an accident? Or had the parents deliberately pushed their offspring from the nest? In the animal world there was no place for abnormalities, nature could be cruel, allowing the parents to either eat or kill their young.

Or abandon them in the woods, to let the wolves do the dirty work for them.

Neither Ivar nor Utstøtt should be alive, because they didn’t stand a change in this cruel world. They both had all odds against them, but Ivar knew from experience that sometimes the damaged ones can rise.

So, he did his best to keep Utstøtt hidden inside his tunic. Collected worms during his tasks outside and chewed the boneless, wiggling things up to feed his pet raven.

Piglet was appalled by the way he fed the bird, yet touched by his will to care for Utstøtt. She brought him scraps of beef and chicken so he no longer had to chew on worms.

Utstøtt turned out to be a smart bird, oddly aware of when he needed to remain quiet and still inside Ivar’s tunic. While at other times, he’d poke at Ivar’s chest and caw, indicating that he was hungry. With his good eye, he’d stare up at Ivar accusingly if he took too long.

And so, another chapter started in Ivar’s life, that of being a foster of a white, one-eyed raven named Utstøtt.

.-.-.

A/N: So, for this chapter I had about 6 tabs open about ‘ravens’, and then 3 more about ‘how did they make soap before soap?’ This chapter felt a bit all over the place, but I didn’t feel like cutting it up in pieces and adding extra ‘space’ purely to make it more organized. Basically I didn’t want to bore myself and I needed to get a lot of thoughts/information/background and Utstøtt into the story. So yes, most of all happy with the chapter. Hope you enjoyed it too:)

Xoxoxo Nukyster

The kickass beta: @sarahh-jane

The tagged ones:@youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @saldelys @shannygoatgruff@pieces-by-me@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa@readsalot73@lauraan182 @conaionaru@sarahh-jane@peachybonelessIf you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:)

#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless fanfic #alex hogh andersen #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #viking fanfic #ivar lothbrok #ivar oc #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army

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curlytemple · 4 years

Text

niche interests list

okay sure yes this is fun! i havent posted a thing like this in such a long time. thank you new gal pal @scottspack for tagging me!

pigs????

alright first lets throw it back to preschool! my fav childhood toys were my baby doll (snookums) and a plush pig that my grandma got me that i just called ‘pig’ ...i watched the babe movies countless times, and piglet? that anxious little guy GETS ME bro. when my preschool did a nativity play and my class got to choose an animal to be in baby jesus’ manger, my mother recalls me saying that i would be a pig because jewish people (jesus christ) wouldnt eat me. she has no idea how or when i learned about kosher foods. ironically despite my namesake i was too afraid of the movie charlotte’s web to watch it more than once because the scary farmer tries to kill wilbur for being small and the pretty spider dies.

sugar creek gang

OKAY this is a book series from the 40s-70s about a group of christian little boys in indiana who went on adventures in the woods and helped people. my dad read a LOT of chapter books to me as bedtime stories when i was little (see also the mandie series, nancy drew and the hardy boys, little house on the prairie) but sugar creek gang is one that really hit. i read all 36 books with dad and at least once again on my own. there was a series of 4 or 5 movies in the early 2000s when i was the Perfect age to have a crush on most if not all of them. this might be too much detail but i have to tell you about these boys. we WILL not be revisiting the heavy religious themes.

the narrator is bill who is Good and Kind and wants to be a doctor when he grows up. his best friend is a chubby boy nicknamed poetry because he memorizes and quotes poems, he is the Detective of the group. BIG JIM is the leader of the group who is supposed to be like, 14, which was very cool and hot, to me. and yes there is a little jim, who is the baby of the group. then there is CIRCUS who is known for his climbing and acrobatics, and his FIVE SISTERS AND BEAUTIFUL SINGING VOICE. dreamboy. i’m almost done listing boys, i promise. a boy called dragonfly who is allergic to everything and hella superstitious. later in the series a new boy named tom moves to town and tom has an older brother bob who is NOT A CHRISTIAN (bully)

tangentially, the buttercream gang, a movie from 1992 that was almost definitely made by some christians who grew up reading the sugar creek gang series which i’m guessing on vibes alone. will spare you Good Boy details but scott is in love with his best friend pete who moves to chicago and falls in with a bad crowd and scott just refuses to stop LOVING HIM. very gay christian film in retrospect.

peter pan

so i know liking disney’s peter pan isnt niche, but it was the way i liked it. tinker bell stan from day one, i watched all of those disney fairies movies, even the ones that came out after i was definitely not intended audience. there was an online pixie hollow game where you could design your own fairies and play mini games where you gathered dew drops or something. had a HUGE CRUSH on jeremy sumpter in peter pan (2003) then i got really darkly obsessed with the idea of growing up when i was 12 or 13, and everything peter pan was deeply My Shit for my entire adolescence. i read the original book and every other twisted version of the story i could find and seriously freaked myself out about wasting my youth.

shug

you’ve probably heard of jenny han now, or at least the netflix adaptations for to all the boys i’ve loved before and the sequel ps i still love you (always and forever, lara jean, coming soon?) but before she wrote THOSE, she wrote my first ever Favorite Book, about annemarie “shug” wilcox, a girl in the summer before starting middle school. it is SO engraved on my heart i cannot explain. i felt so incredibly understood and cant even tell you how many times i read it. thinking about all of the ways it made me feel SEEN is actually making me very tender so i’m gonna go on.

the summer series

on the subject of jenny han, since she was now my Favorite author, when she came out with the summer i turned pretty in 2009, i was ALL IN. it’s not summer without you, and we’ll always have summer were published the next two years. a coming of age series about a girl isabel “belly” conklin who stays at her mother’s best friend's house at the beach in the summers. i really could talk about it forever yall. i actually dont know how to be succinct about it. i will try. her mom’s friend has TWO BOYS. one brother, jeremiah, is the golden boy and her best friend who is in love with her! the older one CONRAD is her childhood crush who's just sort of around while belly is firmly getting over her childish feelings and going out and experiencing teen beach life with jeremiah for the first time and figuring out who she is and wants to be! by the end of the summer he admits he feels differently about her (hence belly internalizing this as The Summer I Turned Pretty) and they get together. this is already too much so i will just say that the next two books deal with a PROFOUND LOSS and the selfishness of grief and the SELFLESSNESS OF CONRAD and i will absolutely lose my shit if netflix picks it up for a second jenny han series adaptation.

pappyland

this was a kids show in the 90′s that features a character named Pappy Drew-It, an artist dressed like a 49er who lives in a magic cabin in pappyland. there’s tons of characters and music and life lessons but the meat of every episode is a detailed drawing how-to (pappy is actually a cartoonist, michael cariglio) and i have a hard back cover sketch book from my grandpa that i FILLED with drawings that pappy and DOODLEBUG taught me to do. there is a running gag that pappy always breaks his crayons.

boy meets world

i KNOW this is beloved by many but i’m counting it because i’m simply too young to have such an obsession with it! the show ran from 1992-2000. i was born in 1996, but reruns on the disney channel and abc family cemented it as one of my favorite shows. cory and shawn, closer than brothers, shameless homoromantics, shawn is cory’s first wife!!!!! truly showed me what a best friend can and should be!!!!!! the great love of your life!!!!! TOPANGA, the og weird feminist girl who said stop shaving your legs and start speaking your mind, ladies! the characters are so richly developed that they are real people to my heart. YES every character on this show is in their late 30s-early 40s and YES i feel like we grew up together. in season one they’re in the 6th grade and we follow them all the way to COLLEGE. countless poignant life lessons, often literally dictated by the wise and hilarious MR. FEENY, cory’s next door neighbor and somehow one of his teachers for YEARS. my love was only solidified by the 2014 girl meets world reboot, centered on cory and topanga’s daughter and her best friend. (which was literally cancelled because disney didn’t want to transition from a kids show to a teen show, something essential to the original. also because that teen show would have had CANON LESBIANS. extremely shameful move in 2017!) boy meets world lives rent free in my heart and i will never evict it!!!!!!!

i consulted my mother when i got stumped for more and she reminded me that i had obsessions with the impressionist art period and babies and ANYTHING fairies or pixies, and i was way too young when my love of the canadian teen after school special degrassi began. she also said bob ross, which i was hesitant to include because he’s been super ~trendy in recent years, but to be fair (To Be Faaairrr) she’s right! i don’t think people really watched the joy of painting as much as i have throughout my life. best sick day show of all time.

lastly i could honestly list anna herself as a niche interest, my mom actually metioned that ive always hyperfixated on my girl friends (gay) but i’ll just note that YES friday night lights, YES barry lyga novels. love to share so many things with you, niche or not, they’re niche in Our Mind.

#with the baby obsession came an obsession with adoption #my aunt and uncle adopted and when i learned that there were ORPHANS whew #i was in preschool judging people for getting pregnant when there were SO many babies without mommies #she had a good point!#also does being a niall girl in 2012 count

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fanaticfangirl001 · 5 years

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What Do You Say, Queenie?

John Bender x reader

Author’s note: Kids don’t smoke. Also sorry for the Freddie Mercury mention but like it’s the 80’s. Also I’m trying to not describe the reader as much. I hope it’s okay.

Warning: Swearing but done by me to describe John.

Request: Hi, please could I request a John bender x reader imagine where the reader always has to take care of her younger siblings (her parents are never around), she’s driving home one night in the rain with the kids and sees John (who she has a crush on) on a bench because he’s got nowhere to go, she lets him stay with them. He’s amazed that she’s able to look after them all and he gets along well with the kids and eventually John and the reader kiss and get together is this okay? Sorry it’s so long💚

@10blurredsmoke10

Song Recommendations: Bad Reputation by Shawn Mendes, Somebody To Love by Queen(Had to, sorry not sorry)

Most of the teenagers that go to Sherman High, prefer the front parking spots for easy access to the building but Y/n is a little different. She prefers the parking spot by the dumpster. Mostly for the view. The view of one “immoral” delinquents that leans against the fence beside the dumpster as he smokes. Her tinted car windows hide the fact that she’s staring at him. His lips curl around the cigarette and Y/n could imagine his lips doing something else.

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. Y/n had made a huge change, regarding her hair. It was a risk using a picture of Freddie Mercury for his wavy shoulder length voluminous hair, but Y/n wanted a change. She had just had her braces taken off and her teeth were beautifully straight and pearly white. No longer did she have a picket fence mouth. No longer could stuck up female dogs named Claire tell her how she’s unattractive and could never find a man. Your father’s law firm, is Mr.Standish’s favorite to use, whenever he needs one, which is often. Your and her father were close professional relationship.

As long as your concerned is fine, as he’s always paid your father more than enough. Between yourself, and three younger brothers, neither of you have ever wanted for anything. You wanted records, you got records, you wanted concert tickets, you saw Queen three times and with every hip shake Freddie preformed you swooned like the other women in the audience. But would records and concert tickets make up for countless days and nights alone. No one to hold you after a nightmare. You were that person for your brothers just as your mother had been for you before she was sick and passed away. Your father’s second wife, the one he was sleeping with while your mother was in the hospital, is only a few years older than yourself and often away getting manicures and massages, leaving you picking up her sons, triplets, aged 3 years old, and caring for them until she gets home late at night.

You check your bright red lipstick in your car’s mirror. Slinging her backover over her shoulder Y/n starts walking away when someone starts following her and appears beside her.

“That color doesn’t suit you.” A feminine voice says from a car beside where Y/n is walking.

Y/n doesn’t look beside her, she doesn’t need to. It’s Claire.

“Screw off, princess.” A familiar voice says and following him a cloud of smoke.”Only room in this school for a Queen.” John gestures to Y/n.

“You screw off.” Claire retorts getting out of her car and slamming the door, shoving past the both of them.

“Morning, Y/n,” John nods, then runs past Claire making her skirt flip up.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh a little at Claire’s red face after what John did. I should probably tell him that I can handle Claire myself, wonder why he cares and called me Queen. It’s probably the hair, he recognizes it. Fuck he’s going to make fun of me.

History, English, Math went by very quickly. Gym class drags on most days. . You were sitting on the girl’s side of the gym while John was on the boys.

“Alright, boys and girls, pair up. We’re doing a dance unit.” The gym coach screeches.

John’s scan over the girls, most were trying to find guys except for Y/n she stood off to the side, Andrew starts walking over to Y/n.

‘Nope,’ John thinks,’ Not on my watch.’

Long legs are John’s only advantages over Andrew, and the fact that John nonchalantly tripped him before he could ask Y/n to be his partner.

“So Y/n.” John leans against the wall. “ Guess we’re only two without partners.”

“I uh guess so, even if you did trip Andrew.” Y/n says trying not to blush.

‘Dancing involves hand placement,’ Y/n thinks. He’s going to have his hand on my waist.

“I didn’t trip him, just helped him to the ground, with my foot.” John gets off the wall as the coaches are herding teenagers onto the middle of the gym floor.

“Very considerate of you.” Y/n laughs as she pulls John to the group.

John’s moving slowly allowing himself to be pulled by Y/n and still being a little shit.

“Today all of you are going to learn how to ballroom dance. Because all of today’s dancing is hip thrusting, and gyrating.” The coach begins the lesson.

“Ooo, hip thrusting.” John whispers. “So sinful.”

Y/n stifles her laughter with her hand.

“Mr.Bender, and Ms. L/N, would you two like to demonstrate the hand placement, since this is very humorous to you.” The coach says.

John says “ We’ll give it a shot.,” He looks at you,” What do you say Queenie?” ,

“Uh, sure.” Y/n and John go to the front of the gym.

The silence of the gym is overtaken by whispers and wide-eyed stares. You were known as a rich quiet girl with braces with attached headgear and suddenly you’re wearing tight jeans,snakeskin top, red lipstick, and hair modeled after a man that wears women’s clothing and flounces around on stage.

Y/n expertly holds John’s hand and puts her other hand on his shoulders. John smirks and puts his remaining hand in her back pocket, only for her to pick his hand out of her pocket and place it on her waist.

“Can’t blame me for trying.” John laughs.

“Mr.Bender, since you find this so entertaining, why don’t you demonstrate a box step.” Coach says messing with the radio.

“I think everyone knows how to step forward, sideways, and back.” John retorts.

Y/n eyes widen, she wasn’t expecting John of all people to know what a box step is.

“Indulge me.” The coach says.

John rolls his eyes, and steps forward, sideways and back making a little square on the floor, and then twirls Y/n around.

The coach makes John and Y/n go back to their spot on the floor, and turns the music on so other couples can practice.

As Y/n follows John’s steps, she asks “ How do you know how to dance?”

“Dancing’s a prelude to sex, and I have a lot of that,so.” He answers.

“And you wanted to dance with me?” Y/n tries to flirt.

“Don’t think nothin’ of it, just didn’t want Andrew to crush your feet.” John answers coolly not recognizing that Y/n is trying to flirt.

The dancing class ends and the rest of the day continues with same pace of the morning classes. The bell of the last class rings and students run out of the building as the dark grey sky begins to open and pour down rain. Y/n runs to the back off the school near the dumpster to her car and tosses her backpack into the passenger seat.

She drives home and tosses her bag in her room and cleans up the kitchen and living room. The playroom can be cleaned up later. The pick up time for the preschool that her half-brothers are at, is at six but with the thunder storm she decides to pick up the boys a little early. With her homework finished, she packs up the car and heads over to the preschool.

Aiden, Freddie, and Michale wave with the owner of the school at the car.

Y/n grabs the umbrella from the car and brings each of the boys to the car. Once everyone is buckled Y/n starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot. The darkening sky and heavy rain cause her to drive slowly as her brothers in the back seat raced raindrops. Freddie’s raindrop was wining and Aiden didn’t like this and didn’t want to play anymore so he looked out the window.

“Sissy, there’s a hobo in the grass.” Aiden yells.

Y/n’s slows the car to a stop beside the stop sign before their neighborhood.

She looks out the window,” That’s not a hobo, that’s..John.”

She pulls off the road and steps out of the car with an umbrella.

John sits up completely drenched, his jacket wrapped against his shoulders like a makeshift umbrella. The white shirt clings to his chest and torso.

“What are you doing outside?” Y/n asks holding the umbrella over him.

“Nowhere to go, Queenie.” John shot back. “You’re getting wet now.”

“You like kids, John?” Y/n looks back to the three boys with their faces smushed against the window looking like little piglets.

“Never met any.” He shrugs standing up.

“Get in. “ Y/n opens the door for him.

The three boys start giggling as John sits down and the car starts moving

“Boys, be nice, this is John, a friend from school.”

“Do you like our sissy?” Aiden asks getting down to brass tacks.

“Uh she’s nice.” John answers a little taken back by the child’s bluntness.

“Please ignore them.” Y/n says pulling into the driveway.

Once she turns off the car, the boys are out and running to the door.

“You take care of them.” John asks once the boys are inside and run up the white stairs in the middle of a fancy house.

“Yeah, my uh stepmom isn’t the most maternal, and doesn’t like being around her kids or me for that matter .” Y/n sits on the couch.

John sits by her. “ That’s messed up, what happens when you leave?”

“I don’t know.” Y/n shrugs.” I can’t abandon them.They’re my brothers.”

“Half.” John reminds.

“If I don’t take care of them, than a nanny will, and you know what that means.” Y/n leans towards him.

“They become emotionally constipated.” John answers.

“No, well yeah but worse, they become spoiled brats and then become lawyers.” Y/n smirks.

“Ew.” John says.

“Yeah ew.” Y/n nudges him. “ Help me make dinner.”

*45 minutes later*

“So you put them to bed too?” John asks.

“Yup. I normally read them a bedtime story but..” Y/n gestures towards the two of them.

With the upstairs lights off and three little boys sleepily closing their eyes, Y/n rejoins John at the bottom of the steps.

“Queenie, I’ve been thinking.” John starts and gently pulls her down when he realizes she’s still standing.

“Go on.” Y/n says with a small smile, “ I’m listening.”

“What do you say, Queenie, be my girl?” John asks looking up at Y/n awaiting her answer.

She doesn’t answer, Y/n grabs John’s collar pulls him closer and kisses him.

#john bender imagines #john bender #john bender x reader

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long-bodyswap · 5 years

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Mine

by vchris1989

Chapter 1

Look at that son of a bitch! My douche of a colleague, Manny, is putting like some sort of dipshit teen while I’m getting our boss’s order. Mr. Flint asked us both to pick up his new clubs, but I’m the only one who gives a shit. And I guarantee that when we get back Manny is going to take full credit. He’s such a fucking ass hole, but I get even more frustrated with myself because I still can’t shake my lust and desire for him. Not for him or his personality, but for his body. It’s weird and hard to explain. I don’t get hard thinking about his body grinding all over me; I get hot about using his body for my own plans and desires.

“Hey, did you talk to the guy yet?” Manny asks impatiently.

“Manny, we’d be out of here faster if you’d help me.”

“Listen, you queer. You find that guy so we can get out of this dump. I don’t have time to listen to you bitch about not doing your job! Don’t see me complaining!”

I just scoff at him. You freaking son of a bitch. I’ve never seen you do your god damn job a single time. Always bullying me and extorting me to carry him through life. Fuck, as much as he pisses me off I just can’t deny this hunger within myself. I get so fucking horny thinking of what it would be like to own some of his swagger and confidence, to be the one coasting through life and preying on the week. My dick gets so hard thinking about owning him and all that he is- to enter his body and wrestle control away from his mind and soul and wake up as the new Manny. But that’s just a fantasy I suppose. I’ll have to-

“DUDE!” Manny yells.

Shit! I did that thing again where I spaced out on the job. These damn daydreams are getting more powerful and more prevalent. Fuck I’m hard right now. Gotta hide this before Manny-

“Oh for fuck’s sake, dude. Really? A hard-on on the job? That’s for me isn’t it? You sick queer, at least you have good taste,” Manny says with a swaggery scoff as he ditches the putter he was using and walks over to a different putting green away from me, shaking his head and laughing at my misfortune.

I fucking hate you so much, Manny. My face is burning red with my burning hot rage that anyone could be this much of a douchbag, but damnit fuck! My dick is so hard. Just the thought of entering Manny and making him a better person is making me leak precum. Oh shit, please not now- it’s never been this bad at work. I gotta-I gotta- shit I gotta find a bathroom to blow my load. But fuck I might miss the guy I’m waiting on. Fuck me I think my precum just leaked through my workpants! This isn’t going to end well…

6 hours later

Fuck today and fuck Manny! Just bullshit all of it! He doesn’t do shit and he has to go run his mouth to our boss about my little incident earlier. Our boss fired me and promoted Manny- made him a fucking regional manager! That should be me! God, if there was a way I could slide inside Manny I could have everything I want.

3 weeks later

So most people would be content with holding a grudge and going through a self-destroying cycle of hating Manny, jerking off at the thought of possessing Manny, self-hatred, and repeat…but not me. Unemployment has given me the time I need to research Manny’s end and my new beginning. My severance package was enough to fund the purchase of an original edition European witchcraft classic, Blackest Magic. For all I know, Manny has already forgotten I exist, but I’ve had plenty of time to remember him and the life and body he doesn’t deserve. With me inside him, he would be a real man, not some spoiled brat bitch ruining everyone else’s lives for his own gain. I can’t believe how much Blackest Magic cost me, but that means it must be legit, right? I’m all in, because I won’t have anything left if this doesn’t work. I- *DING* Holy shit! That’s the Fed Ex guy! It’s here! I sprint to the door, signing and taking my package in such a quick whirlwind that the Fed Ex guy is almost left transfixed as if I had been The Flash or something. I still make sure to thank him profusely as I close the door and scurry to my living room, giddy with anticipation as I gently break the bindings on this meticulously packaged volume. Opening the cardboard I am met by an unusually thorough layer of package stuffing. Careful…Careful…This is so bizarre…I can almost feel the air vibrating around the book the closer I get to it. Finally, I see the book- A pitch black volume in the classical style. It must be over 400 years old, but there is not a single sign of age or damage on it. This almost feels like a scam until I reach down and grab the book for the first time. The moment I make contact the book releases a breathy almost hiss, as if it is alive and conscious of my presence, perhaps assessing my worthiness.

Worthy or not, I am desperate. Surely the powers that be can sense my desperation and hunger to enter Manny, to control him…to be him. Please! Dark forces, light forces, I don’t care who! Just someone answer my call!!!!!

With that the book flies out of my hands and lands with an echoing thud on the table in front of me. I freeze in terror as the books pages begin flipping in an endless cyclone of magic energy until finally it halts on a page towards the back. Nervous, but curious, I lean forward until I see the answer to my prayers-Astrus Possessum…Manny doesn’t stand a chance…That night I made all the necessary preparations. It was really basic actually- If anything, I feel like these simple objects like candles and rose petals are just necessary to focus and redirect the book’s self-generated power. Everything is set and now I just mediate and focus. I focus harder and with more intent than I ever have. I think about filling Manny, overpowering him, and assuming full control of him. I think about laughing in his body and rubbing his hands all over his stocky, but strong form. I think about grabbing his man meat and pumping his cock until his balls are churning out the biggest load of his life. Fuck, my cock is leaking the biggest flow of pre-cum I’ve ever had. I know it’s the perfect time for the words! “Astrus Possessum!”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY FUCKINGAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream as I feel like every cell of my body is being burned to ash. This agony is too much for any mortal to comprehend, but somehow I know that it is necessary. The pain doesn’t feel like actual fire, more like the burning hot combustion of…Oh shit- I think my soul just separated from my body. I look down at my whispy hands, practically invisible. And now I’m floating over what appears to be my lifeless and already pale old body. I try to enter my old form in a panic, but I am repelled, utterly and absolutely. Fucking shit! I guess there’s no going back since I’m dead as a doornail…Not that I would ever want to go back…

I float over to Manny’s house-confident in my sense of direction since I devoted much time to knowing the route between his house and mine. Without even a second thought, I float through his front door calling out his name even though he likely couldn’t hear me. Oh will you look at that. Manny seems to have made some sort of makeshift bed on the floor of his living room so he could take a nice mid-day nap. Just look at you, you lazy fuck. Someone like you could rule the world if you’d give a damn every now and then. Enough of all this shit- all the frustration and resentment and guilt and shame. It ends now!

I fly directly at Manny, roughly flipping him fully onto his back. His eyes shoot wide open in shock, but before he can shout out I shove my ghostly hand into his mouth, filling him up all the way to the esophagus as he gags and tries to grab at me to absolutely no avail. I see terror in his eyes as he half-screams, already convulsing as I slide my ghostly arm down to the elbow.

“Oh we can make this even more fun,” I say to myself. Smirking with my invisible face, I withdraw my arm from his throat, making him gasp in relief before I place a hand to hold him down as I reach my other hand into his shorts and grab onto his meat hard, making him squeal like a horny piglet as I begin pumping and milking his meaty cock. “No no no PLEASE! NO LEAVE ME ALONE! WHAT ARE YOU- UnnNNnnnnngggggggggg Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Manny exclaims as I ruthlessly abuse what will soon be my thick cock. And from what I can tell he’s got nice length too- at least 7 inches. Fuck that makes me pump his meat even faster. Manny’s breathing begins reaching new peaks as sweat dribbles down from all over his meaty body. He’s given up fighting me, knowing that I have him pinned down and that trying to get up is a futile waste of energy.

“Please stop! I-I-I have a girlfrienddddddddddmmmmmmmmmmmmmoohhhhhhhh.”

It’s kind of funny how he’s trying to negotiate with a ghost that’s molesting him. Alas, I can see his pelvis starting to tighten and his breathing is really picking up.

“Ohhhhhhh SHIT!!! I’m gonna- I’M GONNA!”

Oh no you don’t. I let go of his meat, leaving Manny absolutely tortured with sexual lust as I leave him so close to a forced molestation induced orgasm. That’s going to be my orgasm, Manny. Thanks for getting it so hot and ready for me though. Manny is distracted now, desperately moaning out and whining from the horniness and lack of satisfaction. Oh don’t worry you pain in my ass, it’s time for me to return the favor! I rip his shorts all the way down to his ankles, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Manny as I dive directly for his virgin asshole, my head morphing like a gelatinous balloon as I begin flowing inside his body.

“MOTHERFUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!” Manny screams as he arches his back and begins kicking his legs out, curling his toes and hyperventilating as his face goes red from contorting his face from all the pain and pleasure. My assault continues, making Manny yelp as I force my shoulder blades inside his hole, stretching him beyond what should be humanly possible for a virgin hole to accept as I continue a forceful and steady invasion. Manny yells out, shouting, “NO NO!!!!! PLEEEASSSSSEEEEEE!!!! GET OUT OF THERE!! GET OUT OF ME!!!! PLEASE NOOOOO!!!! UNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!” He grabs at the blanket on the ground, gripping and pulling it so hard that the veins on his meaty arms threaten to burst. I love how his legs keep squirming like his nervous system doesn’t know what to do or who to obey. Manny begins convulsing as the last of me enters his hole, the last of me sliding in with a slosh. Now fully inside him, I begin rearranging, sliding each limb into his. My legs travel and fill his. I make sure my spiritual cock enters his. My smaller frame aligns and fills his beefy and meaty chest. And finally, my head enters his brain and locks into place, giving me full control of his body and access to his memories and personality. Manny continues to convulse, his hips thrusting hard into the air as his back arches and he screams one last shriek of defiance before collapsing onto the ground, breathing deeply with his eyes closed before the world around me starts to come into focus.

“Did it- Holy Fuck it worked!” I shout with my new voice. “My name is Manny. Fuck I love this. Manny, I don’t know if you can hear me in there, but this is what you get you son of a bitch! Now I get to do this!”

I reach down and grab his still rock hard cock and begin stroking it with his own hands. “Ohhhhhh FUCK YEAH” I shout as I begin uncontrollably thrusting Manny’s strong hips into this grip. “Your meat feels so good, Manny! MmmmmmmmmmmYEAHHHHH!” I use my other hand to rub all over my beefy torso, feeling the weight of his strong torso and chest, grabbing all that meat with Manny’s own hands and almost yelping like a little girl when I twist his sensitive nipples.

“Holy fuck, Manny! Your nips feel so good! Your body is amazing and just want I dreamed it would be! Fuck, you love how it feels when I pump your cock. And you love it when I thrust your cock into my grip like THIS-OOOOHHHHH FUCK YEAH!!! YEAH take it you queer! You fucking love getting your cock milked by me! Feels too damn good not too. Oh fuck you’re close! I mean oh fuck I’m CLOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

I begin thrusting and pumping like never before, grunting and moaning endlessly as the pressure builds to impossible extremes. I close Manny’s eyes and squeeze his face into one of pleasure as I breathe deeply and bask in the odor of his sweaty body, finally reaching the point of no return as Manny’s cock can take no more.

“OHHHHHHH MYYYYYYY FFUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!! FUCKING FUCK YEAHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream as I thrash my head uncontrollably, moaning in joy as each thrust and pump launches volley after volley of Manny’s hot cum all over his robust chest. The warmth of his cream on my new chest gets me so hot that I swear to God it must have triggered a consecutive orgasm as I literally cringe from sensation as I feel another round of cum begin to launch, sending more ropes of cum, literally making puddles across Manny’s body before his cock finally settles and my arches back relaxes gently back to the floor.

“Oh. My. Fuck,” I pant between breaths as I look down at the masterpiece beneath me.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I reach Manny’s beefy fingers down and scoop up a big puddle of his cream, smelling it and inhaling the aroma before taking it into his mouth. My eyes open wide in shock and then delight as I look down and begin scooping more cum and instantly devouring it.

“oh my *slurp* God. Manny, your cum is so *slurp* fucking delicious!” I exclaim as I slurp up every single drop off of his chest, sighing in contented afterglow as I resume his nap. I’ll shower your body later, Manny. I want you to be filthy for a while. And starting tomorrow I think the world will be meeting a new and improved Manny!

Chapter 2

I wake up at the crack of dawn on Saturday, stretching and yawning, and moaning in the pleasured joy of being inside Manny. “Good Morning, new friend,” I say with a giggle as I reach down and grab Manny’s hard morning wood. Mmmmmmm that’s nice. I can’t help but just grind Manny’s hips into these soft blankets, making his dick feel so warm as it slides against the soft and velvety fabric. “Fuck, this will never get old,” I exclaim as I cup Manny’s strong chest in my hands and use his thumbs to rub Manny’s nipples as I keep grinding his hips slowly and sensually into the soft and welcoming fabric. Shit this feels nice. Manny-like grunts leave my mouth, making my new cock throb with desire and sensation as a dark idea creeps into my mind. Immediately I stop this grinding and flip over onto my back, putting Manny’s legs in the air as I suck on one of his fingers, cooing and moaning as I get that thick digit warm and wet. “Mmmmmmmmmm, Manny I fucking love your body,” I whisper as I close my eyes and begin reaching that thick and wet digit down to Manny’s brutally straight hole. “ahhhhhhhhhhh That’s nice,” I coo as I rub the wet digit around Manny’s perky and tight hole, excited by the involuntary clenching reactions this body has whenever my finger actually touches the hole. I get Manny’s body relaxed by gently rubbing circles around that tight fuck chute. Fuck, Manny’s cock is so hard right now. Shit, Manny’s cock is leaking precum. Maybe that straight son of a bitch wasn’t 100 percent straight after all…This makes me chuckle as I place a thick finger directly on Manny’s hole, ready to begin breaking new ground. Before I can even apply any pressure though I feel a particularly strange sensation. It’s not uncomfortable, but I feel like there’s a lot of pressure inside, like that feeling when you drive up a mountain or a big hill. “Wait what am I? What the FUCK?!” I hear Manny’s soul shriek inside his mind. That must be the pressure. My soon-to-be abuse of his hole must have awakened his spunky fighting spirit. Too bad though he’s just wasting his energies. “Who are you?! How are you doing this?!” Manny demands. “Oh I think you know who I am. And I’m doing all this because I’m inside you. I am you now,” I say with a sinister edge to my tone that sounds so sexy coming from Manny’s throat. “You pushed me too far. You took everything you had for granted and treated everything and everyone in your life like shit, so I’m here to repo your life basically.” “What the fuck are you talking about?! And why can’t I talk?! Why are you talking with my body? Why the fuck can’t I move? What did you do?!” I spit into my hand and rub all that slick spit over Manny’s hole and begin pressing a thick digit against his hole, making me cringe and squirm as I force that thick digit down to the second knuckle, amazed by how tight Manny’s hole is and by the fact that I was even able to enter his tight straight man ass. “NOOO PLEASE!!!! STOP YOU FREAKING PERVERT!” “Oh Manny, I know this hurts, but trust me. It’ll feel so gooOOOOOOODDDDD Oh WOW you are tight!” I exclaim as I ram the last of the digit inside Manny’s hole, my mouth in a circular O of surprise as Manny’s back arches and I squirm on my back, leaving that thick finger buried fully inside me as I swirl that digit in all directions, activating an endless sea of nerve endings that even Manny is forced to succumb to. “NO! PLEASE STOAAAAHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPP! Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” Manny begs in his mind. “Oh Come on, Manny. It doesn’t feel good when I do THIS?!” I say as I pull his finger out of his hole and ram its full length back inside. “Ahhhhh my FUCKKK!!! Fucking GOD! NO! WAIT! YOU CAN’T! I’M not a queer!” “That’s not what your hole is telling me, Manny,” I taunt as I begin swirling the digit inside him again, slowly entering a finger fucking rhythm as I get this hole nice and stretched- well on the way to making room for a second finger. “I swear to God! Pleaseeeeunnnnnnnnnggggggggggg oh FUCK! Wait no what are you- OHHHHHHH FUCCCCKKKKK NO PLEASE PLEASE STOOOPPPPPPPPAHHHHHHHHH JESUS!!! GET THE FUCK OUT OF ME YOU QUEEERRRRRR-UNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Manny screams as I, without warning, slide a second finger in his tight hole, shrieking myself as I force both thick fingers inside all the way. Holy fuck! I think I swear to God I almost just passed out, but now- Oh my God this is amazing! I try to swirl and pull and stretch those two fingers inside Manny’s hole, making me yelp in little noises of pure blissful ecstasy as my breathing deepens and I work my way to a fucking motion with these two fuck sticks. “PLEASEAHHHHHHH! NO! YOU CAN’T- UNGGGGGGGGGG- TOO MUCH TOO MUCH TOO FUCKING MUCH! CAN’T! OH GOD!!!!” Manny yells in his mind as he tries to deny the surges of pleasure crashing through his mind. I double up my efforts, grunting and shrieking from the force as I ram and slam my new hole, growling with Manny’s voice as I get caught up in a sexual rage. Fuck you and your hole, Manny. It’s my hole now! And I’m gonna abuse the shit out of it and get it nice and stretched out! Just to tease Manny I remove the two fingers and see what Manny’s reaction will be as I focus all of my energy and attention on Manny’s throbbing cock and the feeling of emptiness inside his hole. Pretty soon my energies seem to have an interesting effect on Manny. He tries to remain silent in his mind, but I can feel his trapped soul almost quivering with desire and emptiness as he tries to process both the sensation he felt in his hole as well as my influence. “What the wait no! Can’t be-fucking damnit I want it. Do it again please! Wait no! Not a queer! Not a fag! But fuck! Why did it feel so good?! Do all fags get to feel that good? Shit man I don’t care just please make me feel that good again!” Holy shot that’s such a turn on for me! I see a glob of precum dribble down Manny’s throbbing cock just from hearing Manny beg me to finger fuck his hole. “You’re going to have to earn the privilege. Beg me,” I respond with a hint of satisfied domination. “Please! Please fill my tight hole again! Make me feel what fags feel, I don’t care just please make me feel good!” Good enough I think to myself as I smirk and scoop up all of Manny’s gooping precum and spread it over three fingers. Without warning, I take those three thick precum lubed digits and shove them all the way inside me in one rough and swift motion. I’m paralyzed by quakes of pleasure as I scream and gasp, a bug eyes expression of overwhelming amazement on my face as I feel Manny’s hole stretched to its limits. Manny’s legs are trembling now as I begin fucking Manny’s hole with all three digits, making his toes curl against my will and his whole body convulse as I benefit from the pleasure. But if I thought I was having an interesting reaction…well fuck- I checked and Manny’s soul was just erupting with one constant shriek of conflicting ecstasy and disgust. Oh I can’t take this anymore! “Holy fucking JESUUSSSS FUUUUCCCCKKKKK UNNNGGGGGYEAH DUDE FUCK YEAH!” I shout as Manny’s cock begins dumping a hot and steamy load all over Manny’s robust chest. Fuck, this cock didn’t even get touched, but I just quiver as quakes of pleasure erupt from Manny’s sweet ass and travel into my new cock and balls and make my entire body shake and vibrate with pure fucking joy. I enjoy the feeling as each rope of Manny’s cum erupts and lands with a splash on his solid torso. And when the shots finally subside, I scoop up all of that cum and try to slide as much as possible into Manny’s stretched hole. “Do you fucking feel that Manny?! I’m gonna finger fuck this load of your cum so deep inside your hole it’ll never come out.” “Oh fuck man I don’t care just please make me feel good!” “Tell me what you want!” “Please make me feel good! Do whatever you need, just please make me feel so good!” “Be specific or I’ll quit now.” “No!!!! Please!!! Please shove my fingers inside me! I need three fingers! Two isn’t enough anymore! Use my hot cum as lube and fucking bury my hot jizz inside me, just please make me feel good!” Manny and I both coo in relief and satisfaction as we feel me slide all three fingers back inside, filling him up and pushing his warm man juices deep inside, making me feel a warmth and comfort as his cum literally oozes all over the inside of his hole. “Oh Manny, your hot cum feels so good. I bet this’ll feel so nice for your girl when I fuck a bunch of your loads inside her tight cunt!” This seems to bring Manny back to reality slightly as he tells me not to lay a hand on her and he suddenly begins reverting to his straight boy mentality, telling me to stop finger fucking him and calling me a fag and pervert and junk. Whatever, I’m starting to get the hang of this. I shut Manny up for the time being before I shove those three digits back in as hard as I can, pummeling Manny’s prostate and making me convulse and yell as an unexpected additional shot of cum randomly shoots out of Manny’s thick cock. “Mmmmmmm yeah. Manny, your girlfriend is gonna be seeing a new side of you. Fuck yeah, gonna fill up that tight cunt and then find some hot twink ass looking for a Latino Daddy Bear to fill them up and give them what they need. Thank God it’s just Saturday morning. I’ve got a whole weekend to use your body before I fully take over your life and show up to work on Monday and begin “my” new promotion. For the moment, I throw a purple shirt on and begin familiarizing myself with the basics of Manny’s life, logging into his computer as if it had been second nature and using this chance to recover. Mmmmm you see those three fingers I’m using on the trackpad? Fuck yeah all three of those thick sausages were pumping Manny’s hole and abusing his virgin prostate. Let’s see…Oh fucking perfect. Manny’s girlfriend emailed him and she’s arriving early from her trip…tonight. Oh Mannnny, finger fucking your hole was just divine. No joke, I can still hardly even feel your legs. I’m glad you recover quickly though because I already feel ready to pump a load inside your girlfriend’s tight cunt. Your manly nuts must be supercharged cum factories because I can almost feel them vibrating as they churn out more juices and loads for me to blow. I lift Manny’s arm and check his watch. Great. About forty minutes until Manny’s girl shows up. I collapse back onto the bed and bask in my possession of Manny. What a great day. Before I can even think another thought I realize I have to take a massive leak with Manny’s thick and robust cock. Ohhhhhh I can’t help but moan as I feel the cascade of fluid surge from Manny’s meat, making a commanding echo that bounces endlessly around his bathroom. I take a deep breath as the flow slows down, smirking as I do a few more than two shakes. Manny has a full length mirror in his bathroom, so I grin at the full length reflection of Manny, twisting his face into one of ownership and cockiness while I keep shaking drops of piss out of his cock. “Nothing you can do about this, right Manny? Can’t even stop me from shaking the piss out of your cock. You’re weak, Manny. All these years of you thinking you had some sort of edge over me, but now look at you!” I grab Manny’s balls and begin gently squeezing them and pulling on them, my back arching just slightly from pleasure as I gaze back into the mirror and grunt, “You don’t have the balls to mess with someone like me, Manny. That’s right, these are my balls now! All your delicious man cream belongs to me and I’m gonna taste it with your tongue and fuck it into your girlfriend’s tight cunt whenever the fuck I want. Oh, I forgot, how could I be selfish and keep a meaty, hairy, Daddy bear like you from all the tight twinks just dying to milk the cum out of you with their hungry holes. Mmmmmmmm yeah, Manny are you awake? I can’t hear you, but I hope you feel the way I’m massaging your balls, getting your cum nice and ready to flood your girlfriend’s pussy. It’s gonna feel so good for her when I make that last thrust, grunting forcefully as your warm creamy fluids surge inside her, making her feel a warmth that spreads from the inside out, satisfying her in unimaginable ways and making her beg you- I mean ME- for more. Oh I just fucking love your balls Manny- nice and big, but still cute and sensitive enough that it drives me wild when I cup one ball and just roll it around, tugging on your ball sac right up to the point I feel a chill rush up your back and through your dick. I’m still making direct eye contact with Manny’s reflection, hell bent on making sure he can experience this on some level no matter how dormant he may be. I squeeze his balls one last time, grunting out, “Your body is MINE,” before strutting up to the mirror and spitting on the reflection in front of me. “Yeah, you like that because you’re a fucking slave whore who can’t resist. You’re too weak to resist.” I get up real close, so close that Manny’s soft cock squishes up against the mirror as I stretch out Manny’s tongue and begin licking his spit off the mirror, making sure to gaze directly into those eyes, burning this image into Manny’s dormant consciousness. I lick my way up. “You sick slave whore. You’ll do anything I say” *Lick* “Because you’re nothing” *Lick* “Me forcing inside your body completed you” *Lick* “Made you a real man!” *Lick* “Just look at you, you fucking queer. The way your hole lights up when I force all those fingers inside you. Deep down YOU LOVED IT” *Lick* “Good job cleaning that mirror, whore. Now time to give Jenna what she’s been waiting for” I wink at Manny’s reflection one last time, giggling a bit as I notice a stream of Manny’s precum dribbling down the mirror from my little Role Playing scenario. Shooting a devious look across Manny’s face I drop down onto his knees and begin ravenously devouring his juices, speaking for him, pretending it’s Manny saying, “Oh shit yeah so delicious! I can’t get enough of those manly juices. Fucking love it ‘cause I’m a weak-minded whore who just loves being filled. IT FEELS SO GOOD BEING FULL OF YOUR ESSENCE! MAKING ME DO SICK AND TWISTED THINGS! I love it when you play with my cock and finger fuck my hole with my beefy fingers. Make me a real man!” I giggle and shiver at the same time, humored by Manny’s vocal cords producing such phrases, but also devilishly turned on. I think I have a new game for later, after Jenna leaves. *Knock Knock* I rush to the door, having just finished putting some clothes on and prepping for this meeting with Manny’s girl, Jenna. I try my best to mix the best of Manny with the best of me- in other words, I’m gonna mix Manny’s confidence with my ability to choose not to be a complete asshole around other people. Might actually be tough, but it’s too late because I’m already opening the door-“Hey, Manny. Been a while since you called,” Jenna says meekly, with a hint of both resentment and sadness. “I’ve been busy lately, babe. But I think you’ll notice I’m a new man. I’ll be here for you when you need me. So why don’t you step inside and let me prove it to you,” I say as I lean forward, ready to lock my lips over hers and pull her inside for a Manny-style power bang. “Woah there, sailor,” she says, placing her hand over my lips and blocking my advance. “Why don’t you get me a drink first? We have some unfinished business to hash out.” I oblige. Nodding my head and welcoming her in, following her into the kitchen as she sits at her favorite bar stool. “So…ermmm…What can I get for you?” I ask awkwardly, not prepared for Jenna to suddenly be so pensive. I’m unprepared, but still up for the challenge though. I mean just look at this selfie I took earlier: I got Manny a clean haircut and dressed him up to look adorable and fuckable. I quickly flash through Manny’s memories though and in a flash see that he had been really wrong to Jenna, having girls on the side, making her feel worthless, using a condom!, banging her so quick she never even got warmed up by the time Manny had cum! No wonder she wants to talk. I mean, hot twink ass on the side is one thing, but you never have other girls on the side! I’m flashed back to the moment by Jenna’s response- “Wow, Classic Manny. Can’t even remember my usual.” I scan Manny’s brain real fast. “Oh no, babe. A Tom Collins with a splash of 7-up. I just wanted to know if you wanted anything different to kick off our fresh start,” I say in the most sincere and caring tone I can possibly muster. Coming out of Manny’s gruff at times voice, it makes Jenna instantly blush a little, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. Bingo. Turning her head to try to hide her involuntary half smile, she says, “you know, what the hell. I’ll have a vodka and cranberry.” “Anything for you, babe,” I say gently and lovingly as I walk up to her, leaning in and gently placing a tender kiss on her cheek, stroking the back of her neck and hearing her lightly gasp. Jenna turns her head slowly, almost by instinct positioning her lips to meet mine before I pull back and give her another loving smile. “Better get that drink,” I say with a blend of Manny’s suave confidence and my own capacity for love and affection. I instantly notice a shift in Jenna’s body language. Instead of having rigid walls and emotional distance, I can almost feel her energy drawing me in, attracted to the new Manny. Mixing her drink, we make casual talk about work and friends and I have her trying not to snort as she laughs from my warm and sharp sense of humor. This drink took over ten minutes to make because of all my stories that have her on the edge of her seat, cackling until tears of laughter emerge, but I don’t think she minds too much. “Sorry it took so long,” I chuckle as I hand Jenna her drink, giggling again as I see her smacking the table in hysteria from my last goofy story, still trying to get her composure together. Finally calm, she smiles at me and begins asking: “Where was this side of you the first time we dated? I haven’t laughed like that since high school, Manny. I-I-I have to be honest. I lied earlier about the sex. I didn’t think you would even want to see me unless there was some pervy sexual benefit for you. I really wanted to talk about the past. How you hurt me. How lonely I was. How in the bedroom you-“ I grab her hand tenderly and begin stroking it, looking into her eyes with a solemn look of remorse. “But, Manny. Just these past couple minutes- I- It’s like I don’t even recognize you, and I never thought I’d be so glad to say that. You made me feel loved and special, and like I mattered-“ I lean in and hug her deeply, bringing her in close and letting her feel Manny’s tight grip and the warmth of his body. “You will always matter to me,” I whisper into her ear, slowly sliding my face until I’m looking directly into her eyes. Those eyes are like open doors now, bearing no resistance as Jenna sheds a single tear, smiles, and then throws herself at me, hugging me so tightly as she tells me how much she loves me and how I’ve just told her everything she always wanted to hear. I grab her face and bring her lips to mine, gently meeting Manny’s lips to hers as we begin a gentle embrace. The taste of her lips is so sweet. I close my eyes and begin rubbing my hands up and down her back, reaching down and playfully grabbing her supple ass with Manny’s strong hands, making her moan and open her mouth enough for me to glide some of Manny’s tongue into her mouth. Her moans are blissful as our tongues wrestle in a lovers’ dance, entangling gently as if exploring new territory before becoming more and more agile and energetic as our body heat rises. I pick Jenna up in Manny’s strong arms and bring her over to the bed, gently laying her down as I pull her shirt off, showing off her trim body and perky breasts. I take Manny’s shirt off, revealing my meatier body. But I think Jenna has a thing for bigger guys; it must make her feel more secure. Regardless, I begin crawling towards her until I’m laying myself on top of her, feeling her lean legs pulling my mass into her as I lean down and we begin kissing again. Our tongues are ravenous for each other by this point as I shift and begin sniffing and kissing my way down her neck, cupping one of her supple breasts in Manny’s authorative grip, massaging and rubbing and squeezing until Jenna is groaning in ecstasy. I know she loves this because every time I grab her perfect tits she grinds her hips against the hard on tenting through Manny’s jeans, making me gasp as my pre-cum leaking cock gets more and more insatiable. I can’t take it anymore- I grunt as I rip Jenna’s bra in half, tearing it clean off before I make a dive for her exposed breasts, wrapping my lips around one of her perky nipples and beginning a barrage of gentle sucking and licking. “OHHHH Mannnnnyyyyy- You’ve never- oh that’s niceeeeee- Oh Mannyyyyyyy”Jenna says as I swirl Manny’s tongue around her sensitive tit, sending shivers from her nipples through her entire body as I grab her other exposed breast and continue massaging that soft skin, tweaking that nipple gently between Manny’s thumb and index finger. Jenna eggs me on as her back arches and she uses her legs to pull me closer and harder against her. If she loves this then just wait until she sees what’s next. I pull back, her nipple exiting my mouth with a gentle pop as she shivers and looks up at me longingly. Without a word, I grab her skirt and carefully pull it off her legs before moving in again and gently massaging and caressing my way up her legs and inner thighs, becoming almost certain she’s wet and hot for me right now as I begin pulling down her panties and see an undeniably moist cunt just begging to be filled. “Manny, you’ve never been this good before. I mean, it’s not that I wasn’t attracted to you before, but right now- OHHHHHH MANNNNYYYYYY!!!!! OH MYYYY—–UNNNNNGGGG—YOU’VE NEVER- OH YES MANNY!! YES YES YES!!!!” Jenna screams with ecstasy laced joy as I lean in and begin gently sliding Manny’s tongue inside her wet cunt, feeling the walls of her pussy clamp down on me in shock as I wiggle and set off a torrent of nerve endings. Fuck yeah, Jenna’s cunt tastes so good! I dig my tongue deeper, wiggling, sucking, rubbing her insides in all the right places, taking cues from when her legs twitch or when her back arches. I pull out and find her clit, giving that special attention as I playfully lick her most sensitive bundle of nerves, daring to even gently nibble on it before kissing that fireball of nerves and migrating my tongue back inside her cunt. I’m taking special care to massage and caress her squirming body, rubbing her lean core and feeling her back as it arches. She especially loves it when I hoist her legs over my shoulders and caress my down her thighs before grabbing a firm hold of her ass and hips and pulling her cunt towards my lapping and thrusting tongue. “ohhhhhhh Mannyyyyyy- I-I-I OH GOD!!! SO—Ungggg-GooooooOOOODDDDD! SO GOOD-OH YES YES YES YES” I go into turbo, swirling Manny’s long tongue inside her at unprecedented speeds and in all directions, setting off cascade after cascade of sensation inside her. I start sucking with gusto, trying to taste as much of her pussy juices as I can, making her whole body literally wretch as I try to hold her squirming form down as I thrust my wiggling tongue inside her. “Mannnnnnyyyyy- YOU-OH GOD- I CAN’T-I- OH PLEASE DON’T STOP! I’M SO CLOSE I-“ I release her writhing hips just long enough to quickly slide Manny’s thick index finger inside her soaking wet cunt, along with Manny’s thrashing tongue as I begin finger fucking her, squirming that finger around and stretching her pussy ever so slightly as I pull my tongue out and latch on to her clit and begin wiggling Manny’s tongue and sucking that nerve bundle. “MANNY!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU MANNY!!!!!! OH YESSSSSS MANNY!!!!” Jenna screams with joy as her cunt starts bursting with the best orgasm of her life. I can feel the walls of her cunt tightening so much it’s a struggle just to pull out my thrusting finger! And her cunt starts leaking so many juices that a trickle starts oozing out, forcing me to quickly maneuver down and start sucking her delicious juices out of her, forcing my tongue back inside as I try to devour every last drop, extending her orgasm indefinitely as her back remains arched and it looks like she’s trying to scream but no sound is coming out. I lap up the torrent of juices for at least 30 straight seconds, keeping her orgasm going on and on, making her body tremble with appreciation as she surprises me and grabs the back of my head, pulling me even deeper into the tight explosion of pleasure that is her cunt. I devour this feast until her trembling slows to a halt and the fountain of juices dies down, finally pulling out after several minutes of non-stop orgasms for Jenna. I look into her eyes, now aflame with absolute adoration and passion. Her supple body is drenched in sweat and her breathing is so heavy I worry for her safety. But underneath it all is a smile that lets me know I’ve given her what no one else ever has and what no one else ever will. “Manny!” She exclaims between gasps, “That was- I’ve never- Oh my God, Manny that was incredible! I-I-I love you, Manny! I believe you, Manny. Every word! This is a new chapter for us, and I want to start it off right, so baby how about you take those pants off and fill me up. Make me yours. I want you inside me, use your cock and make me feel good,” Jenna says seductively as she begins rubbing my pre-cum leaking cock through the tent of Manny’s stained jeans. I moan in approval as she unbuttons that denim and pulls down until Manny’s throbbing and leaking meat springs out right in front of her longing eyes. “mmmmmmm Baby I need it! Please, Manny! God you’ve changed! Where did you learn that?!” Jenna moans between squealy gasps as she squeezes and curls her toes. Those smooth legs are draped over my shoulders as I swirl Manny’s powerful tongue deep inside her cunt, slurping those juices that Manny, the fucking misogynistic prude, would never even go near. Fuck Manny, Jenna needs a real lover. Jenna needs-“Your dick! Please Manny!”I pull my tongue out of her pussy and just grin, still smack dab up against those pussy lips and licking all around. She closes her eyes and tosses her head back as I just keep licking outside her cunt, also reaching up and grabbing her perfect boobs, squeezing not too hard that it hurts, but not too gently that she doesn’t feel absolutely and completely safe with me here to protect her and to fuck her. “Are you sure you’re ready for this Jenna? Are you sure this is what you want?”“Yes!! Manny! I’ve never wanted anything more than this!”I retract away from her cunt and roll over to the side of the bed with Manny’s nightstand, sifting around and looking for a condom. I search around, finally finding that sealed latex when out of nowhere I feel Jenna’s hand resting firmly on mine.“No… Manny… You are not the man you used to be. I don’t know what happened to you, but I have never in my life felt the way I do right now. I can’t believe that I came here to end things for good because right now in this moment in time I honestly don’t want anything more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to feel you Manny… All of you. I want to feel you filling me up… Completing me in a way that only you can,” she says as she pushes my hand back down into the drawer, making me leave the condom in there as she guides me back to the bed.No!! What the fuck are you about to do?! Fuck man! You’re already using my body and shit! At least use some fucking protection! I’m not ready to be a dad! That’s not how I roll! Manny screams in his head as I pump his meat and get him fully hard while Jenna smiles adoringly at me as she gets on her back and spreads her legs, giving me full access to that tight pussy.Yeah, Manny. Well this is how I roll. Because I am Manny now. No one ever loved you! But now look! With me inside you, Jenna is utterly and madly in love. You’re a better person with me in here, a better man. You better accept your fate, and I really hope you enjoy this – because I plan on fucking conceiving your baby tonight.Manny is a mass of screams and resistance on the inside, but I’m able to silence them effortlessly. The forcefulness of his resistance is more than it’s ever been, but I’m already so deeply rooted inside his body that it now views me as the alpha consciousness. His body’s loyalty has permanently switched, and Manny will never again be anything more than a silent passenger who I occasionally allow to speak for the entertainment value.Damn, the waves of resistance crashing through my body actually feel pretty good.Oh Manny! Keep doing whatever you’re doing! Your pathetic attempts at fighting me are sending chills down my spine. Oh man – each time you try to take control I feel a little push coming from the inside that makes my cock twitch. Fuck! It’s turning me on so much! Manny, you’re just making me more and more turned on! It’s like you want me to fuck your load into Jenna’s pussy!I’m a little sad when the resistance stops because I stop feeling those waves of pressure surging through me from the inside, traveling down my spinal cord and ricocheting throughout Manny’s meaty body for converging on his throbbing cock which is dripping with pre-cum as I crawl onto the bed on all fours and begin moving myself on top of Jenna who is now squirming in anticipation.Her eyes shoot open as I start stretching that cunt and sliding the head in.“Nnnnnnnnggggggggggg , MANNY!”“You alright Babe?!”“I’m still just so sensitive from when you-nnngggggg- you know. How much is left?”“I’m about halfway,” I tell her as I lean down and caress her face. I pull her into a passionate kiss, relaxing her as we taste each other’s mouths. When the moment is just right, I slam the last couple of inches into her, making her convulse from sensory overload as that sensitive cunt sends shockwaves crashing through her pussy and up her whole body. “Agggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! MANNY!!!!” Jenna screams as she digs her nails into my back, making me growl as we both writhe together, joined in the most intimate way as I feel Jenna’s cunt trembling and squeezing my meat.“You’re so great babe!” I gasp as I start pulling out, feeling her cunt automatically tightening trying to keep me inside. “NNNGGGG FUCCCKKKKK!!!!” I grunt as I drive my dick all the way back inside. Jenna just gasps, a smile plastered across her face, lips in a wide open “O” with her toes curling wildly. While I build up my rhythm, sliding in and out, grinding and using Manny’s powerful body to give Jenna what she needs, I feel Manny again. I get shivers from the futile resistance. This is too good! I chuckle silently as I decide to let him speak. P-p-please!!!! You can’t! This is wrong! Get out of my fucking body!!!!!! The normally strong and confident Manny sobs in his mind.Face it Manny! You dickhead fucker! I’m a better Manny than you EVER were! I taunt him. Have you ever seen Jenna this happy?! Look how good I’m making her feel with your cock! She has a REAL lover now. Someone who can appreciate her and send her over the edge. I growl back at the ever hopeless Manny. B-b-but!I’m better than you! Just give in! You don’t have to fight it. Just agree that I’m the real Manny and your life will be better than it ever was. Manny went quiet for several moments, finally relenting: You’re right…I grin as I shut him up again, huffing and growling as I feel Manny’s robust nuts churning and pumping- getting this load ready to blow. “I’m close!” I exclaim as I keep pumping Jenna full, kissing her tasty lips and squeezing those tender breasts. “MANNY! I- aaaagggghhhhhhHH!!!!! I’m close too baby! I- OH GOD! Oh my GOD!!!!!” Jenna howls as the waves hit her sooner than expected. Her whole body tenses up as I feel her cunt quivering, trembling as the orgasm builds up. I thrust and pump into her faster and harder, driving this cock into her so she can have the orgasm she deserves. “nnnnnnngggggggggggggggg MANNY!” Jenna screams as her eyes shoot wide open and she begins gasping for breath, trying to yell but no sound comes out. The pressure building inside me reaches its limits as Jenna’s cunt starts vibrating with tension, squeezing me tight and milking me for all its worth. I go into a frenzy, slamming into her- pumping her full as I feel Manny’s baby cream flowing through into Manny’s cock before I thrust all the way back inside, howling wildly as the first load rockets out of me deep into Jenna’s hungry pussy. We both howl unintelligibly, grinding and thrusting against each other as we have the best orgasms of our lives. Our sweaty bodies glisten with pure joy as we calm down, my mass comfortably pinning her down to the bed as our breathing slows back to normal. Jenna stares at me in amazement for a blissful second before pulling me into a gentle kiss. “That was amazing, Manny.”I shut her up with my mouth while we cuddle away into the night. As we go to sleep I feel a warmth deep inside as I prepare to live Manny’s life to the fullest- Because I am Manny now.

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irondadgroupie · 5 years

Text

Bohemian Rhapsody: Chapter 8

A/N: Peter is still in coma and more professionals visit him @intoresus

“Oh, sorry,” the doctor smiled at the sight of Tony slouched in a chair, his legs resting over Peter's.

“Hey! It's alright,” The man straightened up and closed the book. “It was getting a bit monotone anyway. There are only so many times you can stand the story of Peter Rabbit.”

“Tell me about it,” The doctor stepped into the room and watched Tony adjust the blanket over the patient. “I have a daughter who loves that story, I know it by heart.”

“I can only imagine. So, a check-up?”

“Just a quick one,” the doctor stared at the monitors that displayed Peter's vitals. “Your boy is doing magnificent progress!”

Tony ruffled Peter's chair with an affectionate smile. “Well, he has always been a straight- A- student.”

“We were a bit worried the cardiac arrest would set him backwards a lot but it seems the hypothermia-“

In life, there are few moments you go through a complete pause, one where your thoughts cease and your mind needs to reboot. That happened to Tony at the words ‘cardiac arrest‘. His eyes snapped open and his pulse turned into rapid fire.

“THE WHAT?”

The doctor turned to him.

“The cardiac arrest, in the helicopter? Weren't you told-“

“NO, I WAS NOT TOLD ANYTHING!” Tony shrieked and buried his face in his hands. “This is not good, this is not good- “

“Mr Stark, I understand it is a shock but Peter is doing fine!” The doctor tried to set a hand on his arm but Tony recoiled further away. “I admit that cardiac arrest raises the risk for another by about 70 percent if I remember correctly-“

“OH MY GOD!”

May had barely heard the last words of the conversation, but she wasn’t surprised to find Tony panicking at the physician’s exclamation. She couldn’t even count how often she had had to deal with relatives that had yet to swallow that information – and how often she had to explain that it was incorrect. Signing the doctor to leave the room, she made a step towards Tony.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” May grabbed the man's shoulders. “You need to calm down.”

“Peter- but Peter-“

“Tony, forget those numbers! They don't mean a thing!”

“How can you say that?” The man hyperventilated. “He could have another cardiac arrest!” “Tony,” She guided his head between his knees. “Take deep breaths and I'll ease those worries. Now, forget those figures, they are not reliable and are only rough estimates. They include all cases in them: old and young, sick and healthy. Yes, initial heart failure might raise the risk for another but there are numerous other factors. Peter does not have heart issues, his main problem was hypothermia and lack of oxygen.”

“But-“

“No, Tony, those statistics include everything from cancer patients and people suffering from severe infections to people who were hit by lightning.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Peter is fine. He’ll maybe spend some more time in slumber land but he’ll be fine.”

It took Tony quite a while to calm down after that. Every time he tried taking a breath he could feel his heart burn at the thought of how close he’d gotten to loose Peter forever. He could’ve done more, he should have -

“Stop it, Tony.” May still stood beside him, hand resting on his back. He couldn’t even understand why she was helping him, after everything that happened. “You want a glass of water?” The woman hurried off before he could give an answer and returned only a few moments later, handing him the glass.

“I’m not -“

“Yes you are. Everything’s alright and you need to drink something without caffeine for once.” When he didn’t make a move to sip, she gently gave him a reason to.

“You know we have the breathing therapist coming today, they’ll tell us what we can do to support and quicken the ventilator withdrawal process. We need to be clear-minded for that.”

“It’s today already?” The appointment had seemed in distant future when he’d scheduled it.

“Yeah, they’ll be coming this afternoon.” May was glad to see Tony’s breathing finally evening out and him taking a half-conscious sip of water. She decided to swiftly change the topic to something less heavy, something that would distract the man from the weight of knowledge. “Has Rabbit Peter finished his adventure?”

He weakly gestured to the book at the nightstand. “For the tenth time. Wanted to hear it twice today.”

While his condition was still classified as ‘vegetative comatose state’, May and Tony had quickly learned to interpret signs of Peter’s comfort and discomfort. It was still try- and- error sometimes, figuring out what he wanted and needed, but they got better at it. After trying to read another story, it hadn’t taken Tony long to figure out the kid’s pulse only calmed down when he continued to read that one particular story. On other days, Peter wanted his hand held, or May humming some old lullabies.

“What luck I brought some new ones.”

Tony looked up, trying to smile at another bunch of young children’s novels. For the moment though it only reminded him of the fact that they were slowly making this hospital room Peter’s room, with the flowers Pepper had bought, some more of his old stuffed animals, including a Captain America and Iron Man one that currently sat at his right and left side

“What do you think, sweetie?” May whispered, sitting down at her nephew’s bedside, her fingers affectionately caressing his cheek. “What do you want to do ‘til the big visit?”

As always, the only response were the continuous beeps of the vital monitor and the mechanic huff of the ventilator.

“We can put up the old Star Trek movies, if you like. I can read for you, if you want. Tony read the entire night reading for you, I bet his voice is too scratchy to sound like the little Heffalump.”

Tony raised his eyebrows.

“The what?”

May’s mouth opened in shock but she smiled when she turned to Peter again. “Can you believe it? He doesn’t know the Heffalump!” She handed him the book without further words, an old copy of a children’s book called ‘Winnie meets a new friend’.

“Seems like I have to read it, huh? No way we can let him leave without him knowing Piglet’s best friend Lumpy.”

May started reading shortly after, her voice soft, and Tony found himself actually following the story of that little pink elephant and his adventures. Who knew whether or not the knowledge couldn’t come in handy someday? When May reached for her tea and paused reading for a moment to oil her voice, Peter’s pulse quickened slightly, a fact Tony did not miss. His eyes scanned the open page of the book in May’s lap before he found the sentence she’d stopped at, reading the following few lines. The next thing just happened, without either one of them thinking about it: Tony paused and May jumped in, reading the little elephant’s part, before Tony continued casually with the story, reading dialogue lines of Winnie, Rabbit, and Tigger while May took over for Piglet, Lumpy, and Roo.

May and Tony were both interested in what the appointment would bring, but for slightly different reasons. Tony still hoped the efforts would quicken Peter’s healing process to the point were they could just get rid of the breathing tube after one or two weeks of doing what the therapist recommended. May, on the other hand, knew that although they might be supporting the process with said means, Peter couldn’t get tube-free without being fully conscious, and that was a state they’d not yet reached. Which was about exactly what one of the invited physicians just tried to explain.

“What we can do is strengthen the diaphragm. That will be the main goal of all designed exercises. However, due to the vegetative state he is in at the moment, most of them have proved rather ineffective because of the lack of willing impulse control.”

“But there’s still something we can do, isn’t there?” Tony asked. He knew the basics and issues of breathing therapy, but when he’d scheduled the appointment, he’d hoped they were way past the vegetative state. In all honesty, Tony had made the necessary calls in simple hopes of never needing them. Back then, he’d thought that Peter would heal just as impossibly fast as usual - and by now be that once healthy teenager he had grown to love.

“Sure there is, I just wanted to point out that while we’ll be able to show you certain therapy aspects, they’ll be almost useless until he’s less deep in his coma.”

As if the physician picked out Tony’s growing impatience (he wanted to do something to help Peter, not talking about “hows” or “whys”), he stood up, moving to the bag of tools they’d brought: sandbags, modified air balloons... None of those were of interest right now, but the specialists still explained the details of “the daily breathing workout” that’d include Peter learning how to regain control over the air traveling down, even though he wouldn’t be able to in- or exhale entirely by himself at the beginning. It would be a rather rough step by step work when Peter was ready for it. Until then, they had another method of artificial support that Tony was far more interested in: Electric impulse triggering.

It basically consisted of a small belt that was laid on the appropriate area, where the included electrodes would continuously send signals for the muscle to contract and relax, which would hopefully strengthen the muscle fiber that could otherwise easily dwindle.

Tony insisted on being walked through a session set-up from beginning to end.

The first step was to allow the belt skin contact, and Tony tried his best to keep a straight face when moving the gown aside. Peter still seemed covered in so many tubes and wires that the burning knife in his heart twisted at the sight. The only relief was that at least the most prominent bruises had faded away within the past weeks.

“It’s pretty simple. You enable it. There’s just one setting, no frills or anything. But you have to take care of the time. Start with two minutes a day and slowly move upwards from that so the body can adjust to the new pressure. If you want too much too quick, you could risk a charley horse that could easily impair muscle movement.”

“We won’t let it come to that.” May promised, listening to the silent whirs of the new machine added to the symphony she had somehow gotten used to. Peter laid still, showing no obvious signs that the machine was doing anything and his pulse was calm and steady. As long as it wouldn’t harm him, a condition both May and Tony had agreed on, they would try anything that could be even slightly beneficiary to Peter’s condition. 

“How has the appointment been? Any progress?” Pepper asked, placing a tray of food on the nightstand before leaning towards Peter, squeezing his hand to let him know she was there.

Tony shrugged half-heartedly and watched his spouse take her place. The woman had learned pretty early on that if she wanted to spend some rare time with Tony it had to be here since the man refused to leave Peter’s room for any longer than he necessarily had to. Showers and shaving had become less frequent too - which easily caught attention, given that Tony Stark used to be a very spruced person.

“Just like we’ve guessed. They gave us some recommendations, but in the end, we mainly have to wait until he reaches at least a minimally conscious state.”

“Still no changes?” Pepper handed him the cutlery.

“No. Still sleeping deeply.” Tony began forking up the noodles without looking, his eyes fixed on the teenager in the hospital bed. “The doctors keep assuring it’s nothing to worry about but -“

“Then it isn’t. Trust them, Tony, they know what they’re talking about.”

“It’s been so long, Pep. Too long. If he’d be normal, I probably wouldn’t worry that much... But he’s enhanced, the spider genes should’ve taken care of the damage by now.” 

Pepper sighed, not in frustration or annoyance, but in pure understanding. “After all those papers you’ve read by now, you should know that there’s no such thing as a reliable estimate on the duration of coma. There’s no correlation with the severity of injuries, so there might be other factors that his healing factor does not have a direct impact on, or they’re just... new. We have to remain patient.”

“I know.” Tony sighed. “I just hate seeing him like this. He should be in school outsmarting his classmates - not here. This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to have him around more often.”

“He’ll be fine.” Pep assured, for what must be the thousandth time ever since the accident. “And when the rough part is over, you two can have a talk about prolonging your weekend sessions.” She smiled, before frowning, suddenly remembering that there was something else.

“You should check your emails. They’ve sent first reports to Peter’s mail address, but since he isn’t able to read them just now, I had them forwarded to you, too. I assume you want to read them to him.”

“Are they good?” Tony asked, faking a casual tone.

“I didn’t look.” Pep answered. “But let’s just say the research group doesn’t exactly consist of scientist that have a happy expression on a day to day basis.”

Tony’s eyes lightened at the words, and he would’ve given everything to have Peter wake up at them, just to see the glance of excitement in the boy’s warm, brown eyes, too. No matter how the results would look like, it would give them something new to work with, which would definitely be a reason for celebration.

Peter, as always, slept the happiness away.

But Tony refused to give up just yet. Maybe that’s what Peter needed: Hearing that the world needed him, awake and aware, to change it for the better.

So, as soon as he’d finished at least half of his portion, he reached for his StarkPad and went through loads of emails of no interest before he found the one he’d been looking for, opening the attached files.

“‘Dear Mr. Parker,’ he started, eyes already lines below. “The chemical fluid design that Mr. Stark has sent us on your behalf has been in Alpha-Testing for the past couple of weeks. Main goals of the research were to study the advances and potential weaknesses of said design in the light of the intentional idea for its use in, quoting your own descriptions, ‘biological engineering as a possible construction material for 3D printed organ layouts.’ Our momentary, rather basic results prove that the fluid hardens to a nearly perfect degree in the printing settings you recommended. Further, the general construction flexibility is very good, allowing the print-out model to accede certain movements without loosing structure.

“It is yet to be seen whether or not the chemical design will be adopted by surrounding, natural cells. Testing the inter-body-dynamics will be a huge part of further research phases.

“Enclosed, you will find the used experimental designs as well as their results, showing minor inconveniences with the current formula.” Tony stopped reading, and realized only then that he had started smiling. Scanning the list of mentioned “inconveniences” with the ‘Steak Formula’, it became clear that all of those were minor and probably easily corrected by changing just simple aspects of it. Maybe even just adapting the printer settings a little again. 

“This is better than you probably ever dreamed of, kiddo. This is extraordinary.” He threw a glance at May who’d come in after the first half of the mail, eyes widened in surprise, too.

“They’re waiting for you.” She said, thumb moving along the lines of Peter’s cheek. “You hear that? They’re waiting for you too continue what you started.”

The happiness left when a response failed to appear. But the pride in both May’s and Tony’s heart remained.

#irondad #fanfic

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juistheseminarian · 5 years

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Eccentric, part 1: (gasp) a child!

You can tell I take myself seriously as a writer since I was originally planning on making this a stand-up-sounding twitter thread, doing my usual best turning the topic into a trendy depression meme while telling anyone who’d listen that I’ve decided to write “real articles” since I “can’t find a job in my field” (I’ve totally looked). So this is me taking a step. I get the tingling feeling it might sound exactly as it would have anyway, except this time i’m gonna have to pry readers from one platform they spend their time on to another that’s about real reading, and somehow this distance is a real marathon to close. I know because I don’t read, and i do run. I expect little and I hope for even less.

Writing “for real”, as opposed to waxing my usual poetics, has been a terror of mine, along with praying mantises, stick insects and john mulaney’s wife, in a good way. It’s been my plan A as well as my every other plan for as long as I can remember, which is an excellent reason to stay away from it since nothing else could possibly keep it from failing. It’s almost like I didn’t believe in hard work, which is ironic for a person who spent hours a day playing over two-measures loops of music so I’d learn guitar solos for a man. Where’s the reward here? Non-gendered consideration? Give me a break.

I’ve been told in school that a writer’s first work is oftentimes autobiographical, in reaction to which I thought it would be a funny idea to even try to write about anything else (who could possibly?). That was before I tried viewing it through the lens of standpoint theory and claiming the relevance of my situated point of view as if we needed another white girl to cry about the upper middle class experience. Now don’t get your hopes up, I’m still gonna do it, but I’ll do my best to keep some perspective. There are more important pieces to be written and more important voices to be heard and I’ll never replace them or try to; what I want to do is use the language I’ve had the privilege to develop, and acknowledge my main skill as an opportunity to challenge what needs to be challenged at my own scale.

Now that I’ve proceeded to justify myself because clearly you had asked, and have realized I’m going to have to find another way to introduce myself than to offer my guests a cup of insecuritea (get it?), let’s move on - I’ve been meaning to talk about, well, me, you got me there - no but really, about my journey trying to put words on my mental health. Tl;dr: I haven’t yet. I’m starting to think the final boss of this game is financial independence so I’ll probably shelf it and go back to super hexagon for a decade or two. What could go wrong.

It all started when i was still going to school in rollerskates and wearing orange tights to show how I had just discovered the sex pistols - in fact, it started long before, as the nice ladies at daycare told my parents that maybe I was a little more than just shy. The year after that, I was pulled out of school for being unable to stay in class during storytime: I had taken to crying uncontrollably and panicking into a near catatonic state at the thought of the old crone in charge reading fairy tales. I got sick in the morning. I was taken home and it fortunately coincided with my family moving to another village, where I started class the next year and appeared normal, if a little keen on the self-pity. My teacher suspected I was bored, but shit happens, and it didn’t show. I didn’t show.

I never showed. Later on I tried to show and disappear all at once, which was, you’ll see, a little suboptimal, but you do what you can, right. I went from year to year in constant fear and numbness, threats surrounding me in the classrooms, hallways, home, people. I felt injustice and it made me puke, and all that mattered was not being seen, not being seen for this reason at least. To everyone’s surprise, including mine, I had numerous friends, which made the loneliness thing all the more age-typical. Girl-typical. Good grades for a good girl, we never hear her. Now she’s too confident, we hear too much of her. Oh I too was bad at maths! You’re good at languages, where did you learn this? Why do you know that? Why do you talk like this? Look at her, she was ready to cry! We got you!

Most of what I remember from school is the shame and inadequateness of feeling. I had a few questions: why was I obsessed with sex, how would boys like me, why did it feel better talking to adults even though I was ashamed to do so. At home, I was shamed for masturbating and at school I was just ashamed without anyone needing to make me that way. I don’t know where the trauma was, so don’t ask, okay? I know it’s gotta be in there but how can I tell what’s real and what’s a memory this abusive therapist planted for the sake of being right?

My body felt like a traitor, always horny and always heavy and always numb. The swimming pool was a nightmare. My femininity was nowhere to be found. The delicate, cheerful way the others sang and hopped around made me grow old, I found myself revoltingly fat, I found my hair too short, and why didn’t I know how to dance? Why were people telling me I was so honest when all I did was be ashamed? Something wasn’t working out for me, and I was crying often. As soon as I pictured myself skipping and singing i couldn’t hold back my tears. I invoked this image of me as what I figured would be a normal little girl, and I felt a thousand years old, an antediluvian tree, its movements blocked and its curves absent.

The body did things and I hid them. Through puberty i felt like an impure, sexless organism, like secondary sex characteristics implanted on a shape, a bunch of pubes on a round mistake. I didn’t know what makeup was for and my friend group had common enemies: lingerie, sluts, girly girls, because they could not be smart, they wore thongs and smoked and thereby lost the war of clever versus hot. Somewhere along the line we admitted to masturbating and that was the breakthrough, that’s that on that, and one day a girl choked another during recess. Around this time fat became an issue and everyone knew before I did, because it was normal and I overplayed normal. The limits were, and are, invisible to me.

The old school ended without a diagnosis, and I feared for my life since some older kids made a hobby out of telling us we were gonna get beat up as soon as we’d have set foot in the new school. I was scared, normal scared at first, and I shared the scared, which was something I thought I could get used to (unfortunately I did, and then it went away). I moved on and at first it all seemed to have worked out, I had kept some old friends around and even made new ones, I had a boyfriend for one month and we held hands before I told him I was a vampire (I had read a book by Anne Rice) and he no longer wanted to speak to me. I didn’t particularly mind. I found another (I didn’t want him and we tried to fit him inside me; it didn’t even feel like it would ever be a physiological possibility, he was a gentle friend, I was not receptive). I found another (it worked out and we dated for five years. I did manage to fit him inside me, and to this day i’m not certain I should have). Fat had become an issue.

For the first year it didn’t show - well, not alarmingly so. I studied how to girl and promptly found out that caring about the body seemed an effective shortcut, and I did, very much. I was nerves and erogenous shame, a piglet in human cast, and anything that touched me sent thunderbolts of frustration through my entire bedroom; anyone that talked to me was taking me by surprise and met with confused torrents of whatever had to come out that day. At this point we called the food thing “being careful”: you didn’t want to gain weight so you were “being careful”, salad instead of a main course, no ice cream, careful. Look in the mirror, have you been careful enough? I have a very clear image of walking in on my mother weighing herself and telling me “you see, the biggest worry for moms is to have a flat tummy”. She denied it ever happened. Truth is, the last time she said it was three days ago.

Then came the warnings and I had already learned to take them as compliments. Everytime someone told me I was eating too little, I was gaining points. I was about to graduate. I was about to evolve like a training pokémon; warnings were congratulations and fear was validating me as a fragile young girl, finally, finally, no longer a slug. You could say it was progressive, and throughout the whole thing I was taken care of, yet I slipped through everyone’s fingers because I had lost twelve kilos and weighed a remaining 36 (that’s 79 pounds).

My grandmother was afraid of my hands and my body was drying out, dehydrating, too weak to menstruate or feel. During this time I have never fainted, but have pretended to numerous times. I still wasn’t the center of the world, so I considered it a failure. My mother’s friends said I needed to gain weight for men to love me, my mother said I needed to eat or people would keep staring, and everytime I bought diet coke my boyfriend gave me the look you give to a relapsing junkie, because it was the case. All other possibilities had been eliminated, by me.

The abusive therapist was there all along, but then she was okay still. I saw her all the time, did all sorts of talking and then I saw a doctor and she measured my heart and threatened me with a hospital stay so I cleaned up my act. I was admitted once, in a special unit for teenagers, and it was a nightmare. The others were real and a girl lived there long term because her mother threw chairs in her face (she was the first one to come and introduce herself to me, smiling, complimenting my clothes, kind). One had lost her father and one didn’t like spinach. Before I could spend the night I had caved in and my parents collected me, and I collected the phone they thought was the problem. ED treatments: isolation won’t do shit, trust us. We get better because everyone else is less cruel than you were, and don’t say that’s the point. You lasted one hour before telling me my skirt was too short.

At one point I told the abusive therapist I was going to get better, and I did. It had lasted about a year and the doctor said it hadn’t been real anorexia or I would have had it worse, and I thought, the nerve on this person that jumped on the occasion to invalidate me as soon as I ate one bite. Don’t you dare take the words from my experience, don’t be ridiculous, I’ve already claimed the words - I do realize how lucky I was, others died, I didn’t, but I was very ill indeed, your ego be damned. I was very ill, I was offered fashion advice and condescension and suggestions that I should stop or men wouldn’t look at me, and I was not medicated and I had my asshole pumped full of water because it had dried shut. My heart sounded like a ruffled biscuit wrapper and my first year of high school was a made-up arrangement for me to not completely float away: I would come to some classes for the sole purpose of keeping myself afloat and would repeat the year no matter what. I think this kept me alive.

My first days of high school i was a mummy. I had taken to rubbing the skin off of my arms with a pumice stone until they oozed with pus and burned constantly, I wore bandages from my wrists to under my t-shirt sleeves, I don’t know how my legs supported me, I don’t know how anyone did. I had picked a special high school where half my classes would be in english but I’d know nobody: I lasted two days and was transferred to my local school, and there I appeared sporadically in french class, bonding with the delightful old man who gave it and thought my writing was “images”. He said I should do contests but maybe I wouldn’t win because “the best ones often don’t”.

I repeated the class and fell in love with the next french teacher, a gentle woman who taught us about the middle ages. She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, mysterious, a woman but not just a mother, she didn’t know what to do with my writing and I’m ever so sorry she had to fence off the embarrassment and try to be a good role model. Lucky for me, she really wasn’t.

Ultimately I got better. But I gotta say: my style during this era was off the charts. I looked amazing, I copied Amanda Palmer and my boyfriend and the mad hatter and David Bowie, I once went to high school with a suit and converse because of David Tennant, and I cut my own hair with kitchen scissors. My then-boyfriend painted my t-shirts with foetuses and whatever else we found extremely shocking. We said we’d lose our virginity to raw power by Iggy Pop (did we?) and his mother said she was afraid I would mentally screw her stable, balanced son whose anger issues had him slap me a bunch of times - I would have slapped me too, I said then, and almost stand by it. Years later he phoned me saying he was in therapy and he was sorry and it wasn’t my only fault; I don’t think i hold grudges and I’m glad others don’t either. My mother, however, does. Beyond unrealistic. Must be exhausting.

If I had to describe what anorexia felt like, i’d say it felt like depression but floating, like compulsive obsessing over fashion because I felt I was allowed to now that I was thin; like the most hopeless cul-de-sac with no way out except the one you came from, a well full of serpents like you’re Ragnar Lothbrok and the british are laughing at you from the surface. You float yet sink and you have to claw your way up but your nails are like chalk, you know, from the not eating bit. The anxiety makes every day feel like a year of waiting in terror, and you don’t know why it came and you don’t know why it ends, and sometimes it doesn’t.

...

I’ll have to return to the abusive therapist topic, which is why this is part one of a series on my experience of mental health issues. This isn’t meant as a self indulgent victimization (although it is self indulgent, I mean what the hell, i’m not catholic) though I don’t think it requires further justification, either. I don’t know what will come out of this once I said everything I had to say on the matter, but for now i’m angry about things, and I feel we need to do better.

I was in the best possible conditions and my treatment still sucked, and I still spent the last fifteen years of my life in pain because health professionals can’t have an empirical, science-based approach for shit. I’m not exaggerating when I say I was a ping pong ball in a match doctors played with their dicks. Gender informed how easily my anorexia was diagnosed whereas countless young men still suffer in silence; it also informed how patronizing people would sound and how “efforts” were suggested as medication for my disorders. How pleasing men was supposed to be reason enough for me to eat my own illness. How my ‘’giftedness’’ was not investigated and neither was my ADHD because female-coded symptoms are overlooked. I’m pissed off, I’m qualified to be, and you’ll hear more of me.

-Ju

#my writing #mental health #juistheseminarian

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tremendousartisanlover · 5 years

Text

A Tale of Two Rulers Retold: Learning You Were Wrong Chapter Two

A/N: Looks like the title, "Learning You Were Wrong" is stuck since I got a like on the first chapter by @lady-scorpion-and-friends.

Disclaimer: A Tale of Two Rulers is @figmentforms original work. I'm simply re-writing as a fanfiction, nothing else

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

That night, far away from the castle, Impa was watching over Rinku as she was playing with her pet piglet Ganondorf gave her as a gift, Zelda (named after her mother). As she was watching on, a letter was delivered to her by an owl. It was from none other than the queen Zelda herself. She opened the envelope and the letter reads as follows:

"Impa,

I just received good news from the doctor. It turns out that I've never been poisoned at all and Ganondorf didn't do it as I originally suspected. Tell Rinku that It's now safe for her to come home. I miss her dearly.

- Zelda"

Impa put the letter in her pocket as she walked up to Rinku. "Rinku, your mother just sent me a letter. It is now time for us to return home." She told the young girl.

Rinku got very excited about the new as she turned to the piglet, "You hear that, Zelda? We get to go home." Zelda the piglet squeaked in agreement.

Soon, Impa and Rinku returned to the castle and went to her bedroom silently without waking up the whole castle. As soon as they got there, Impa tucked in her adoptive granddaughter after explaining the best she could what was said in Zelda's letter. "Goodnight, Rinku. You'll see your mother in the morning," said Impa.

"Okay, Grandma Impa," Rinku said to her before she leaves to get sleep herself. Rinku was very relieved that Ganondorf, the man whom she now sees as her father figure, didn't try to kill her mother, but at the same time angry about whoever did such an unspeakable act against Zelda. After a while, she yawned and drifted off to sleep.

Zelda woke up the next morning, getting up from her bed before heading downstairs for breakfast. She hoped that everything will turn out fine, despite what is said and done the previous night. Yet, she still misses having Ganondorf close to her. The bed has been quite empty the whole night.

At the same time, Ganondorf awoken, also missing being with Zelda after making love to her for the first time the night before their last fight. He had hoped that she would let everything go for a change and have their marriage no longer be just by title. Ganondorf decided to call in a servant to bring him breakfast instead of joining the family, knowing how upset Zelda has been with him.

Meanwhile, Rinku woke bright and early and headed downstairs to the dining room to meet with her mother for breakfast. "Good morning, Mama." She greeted.

Zelda smiled at her and said, "Good morning, honey."

A few minutes passed while the mother and daughter are sitting down and eating their breakfast. Rinku was catching up on what she did while she was away. "Mama, you really should've seen the fish I caught yesterday. It was so huge, even as big as Zelda!"

Zelda couldn't help but feel a little awkward due to the fact that Rinku named her piglet after her. She chuckled nervously, "That's nice, sweetie."

Rinku just remembered what Impa told her last night. "By the way, Mama, I'm really glad that Ganondad didn't poison you. How come he's not joining us for breakfast?" She said, taking a bite of her food. Rinku missed Ganondorf as much as she missed her mother.

Zelda almost froze for a moment, wondering how she can explain this situation to her child. "Well, honey, Ganondorf and I had a little misunderstanding, which turned into a big argument. But, anyway, he made a really bad mistake and is not willing to apologize to me for it. So, let's just say I gave him a time out and that’s why we're having a separation for now. I promise, it's just going to be for a while."

"I really miss him, though." Rinku said, understanding what Zelda told her. "Can I still see him?"

"Oh, of course you can, sweetie. I can never forbid you from that." Zelda replied, smiling.

Rinku ran into Zelda's arms and gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Mama!" She was very happy that Zelda understands how much she loves Ganondorf as a father.

Zelda smiled and hugged her back.

A few hours later as Rinku gotten dressed, she is now in the middle of her daily lessons. She plans to go see Ganondorf after her work is done.

Meanwhile, one of Ganondorf's minions came over to Zelda while she's in the foyer, resting on the sofa, and reading a book. "My queen. You have a card from the king!" He announced in a rather squeaky voice as he hands her the card, hoping that she will read it.

"Oh, thank you," Zelda said to the minion, taking the card from him, wondering what it says. "I just hope he's going to be reasonable this time." She thought to herself as she opens the card.

However, it turns out that it read differently from what Zelda expected, namely an apology. A proper one at that. It reads;

"Zelda,

You need to stop being mad at me.

From, Ganondorf

P.S. This is not an apology."

The word "not" was underlined for emphasis.

Zelda got a little annoyed as she ripped the card in half and threw it to the minion. "Please send this back to the king," she said as she resumes her reading. It seems that Ganondorf is still being stubborn, but at least in some kind of way, it was a start. For now, though, she will bide her time for Ganondorf to learn his lesson, since he's still putting his pride above the issue of the matter.

That afternoon, Rinku, being fed up with her parents arguing, decided to pay Ganondorf a visit. He was sitting at the same dock he was pushed into the lake about a week ago. Ganondorf turned to see Rinku with a piece of construction paper folded like a card and crayons, "What is it now, Rinku?"

"Look, Ganondad, I'm getting pretty sick of you guys being so mopey and fighting each other. So, I thought I would patch things up. Here, I want you to sign this card to apologize to Mama." Rinku showed Ganondorf the card and crayons. "Hmph, there's nothing to apologize to your mother for. I don't make mistakes. What's done is done." He insisted, crossing his arms in a very stubborn manner.

"Oh, come on! That's just ridiculous!" Rinku protested. Ganondorf raised his voice at her sternly as if she was being disrespectful to him, "Watch your tone, young lady!" Rinku shot back at him, "Well, it is! I mean, you probably did make a mistake and never even realized it. Besides, Mama told me that everybody makes mistakes and that makes them human. You're human, right?" Those words instantly made him look back on what Zelda said to him on that mountain when she proposed marriage to him, "Are a man or a pig?" After realizing his mistakes, Ganondorf sighed sharply and said, "Fine. Just give me that stupid card and I'll get this over with." Rinku smiled at his effort in making things right with Zelda. "That's the spirit!" she said as she gave him the card and crayons. With that said, the card was written and sealed in an envelope.

Later that night, the envelope was quickly slid under the door of Zelda's study. She was napping on the sofa while Impa was wide awake. The Sheikah noticed the card, seeing that it most likely came from Ganondorf. She picked it up and was about to throw it into the fireplace, but paused after seeing Zelda wake up, telling her to stop.

"Impa, just what do you think you're doing?" asked Zelda, clearly displeased with Impa's action. She took the card from her, " Give me that. I'm very disappointed in you. I know how much you strongly mistrust Ganondorf, but you can't just do things like this."

Zelda opened the envelope and began to read the card.

The card had a drawing of Ganondorf, which is clearly Rinku's, and it reads;

"Zelda,

I am sorry. Are you happy now?

From, Ganondorf"

It seems that he really meant that apology this time, at least the best he could. And it was in his own handwriting so it wasn't like Rinku wrote all that for him.

Zelda smiled as she read, "Thank God. He finally understood." She said to herself. Zelda decided to wait until everyone is asleep to see Ganondorf. She would much rather talk to him in private than to have anyone disturb and interrupt them.

#re writing #re telling #a tale of two rulers #figmentforms #zelgan #impa #rinku #zelda #ganondorf #fanfiction #read more

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mvssmallow · 6 years

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Memento Vivere

Part IX

Masterlist

Pizza and ramen when he’s on hiatus. His mum’s cooking for the holidays. Chicken salads and protein health shakes when he’s on tour or promoting. A warm coke when he’s working overtime.

All that seems light years from where he is right now; trying to peel potatoes as Hanbin buzzes around the kitchen in between watching both kids.

After June went home, he spent the afternoon doing laundry with Minji, working on holding Jae without dropping him and trying not to piss Hanbin off any more than he’s already done. He was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted, which is surprising considering how good his stamina usually is. Maybe the Jiwon in this world doesn’t hit the gym.

“You still like mashed potatoes right?” Hanbin asks as he bends down to check on the chicken in the oven.

“Yeah.”

Mashed potatoes were definitely a banned food when he’s on tour. All those carbs and sugars apparently make him ‘sluggish’ and ‘lazy’. But he did always like it, especially the way he remembers Hanbin making it for him-salty, buttery, creamy and all the things that his manager tells him he shouldn’t eat.

“Me too daddy!” Minji yells out from the kitchen table, where she’s still going at it with paper and crayons.

“I thought you were only eating blue food this week, Min.” Hanbin points out.

“Potato too!”

“Oh, potato too. Okay.”

“Can Jae Jae have potato?”

“Jae has his own food.”

“And Rocket?”

“Rocket eats dog food.”

“Can I eat Rocket food?”

“NO.”

He looks at Hanbin in horror as they both reply in unison. That split second of co-ordinated fear and worry over her wellbeing catches him by surprise and he feels the air changing around him somehow. Hanbin doesn’t seem to notice because he’s gotten himself tangled in an un-win-able argument about why people can’t eat dog food.

He starts cutting up the peeled potatoes just as Minji points out that dog biscuits were technically still biscuits, biscuit is a human food word, therefore all biscuits qualify as human food. It’s like the most illogical version of Six-Degrees-Of-Separation.

Hanbin might be the most clever guy he’s met but he wonders if he’s ever won an argument against this kid.

“It’ll make you sick, Min. Don’t eat it okay? You have to save it for Rocket. You don’t want him to be sad that all his dog food is gone, right?”

She shakes her head aggressively. “I love Rocket.”

“Good. So don’t eat his food, okay?”

There’s a half-shrug-half-nod before Minji goes back to drawing some huge yellow blob in her colouring book but judging by Hanbin’s grin, it’s probably the closest anyone gets to a win.

Without even thinking, he blurts out the first thing that enters his mind. “She’s all you.”

“Meaning?” Hanbin asks, the challenge loud and clear in his voice.

“Too smart for her own good. Wins every argument.” He says, hoping it comes out as well-intentioned as it sounds in his head. “It’ll be fun when she’s a teenager.”

Hanbin lets out a quiet scoff but when he looks over, there’s definitely a small smile on that face.

Dinner is kind of chaos. Jae has to be fed first. Then Rocket has to be ushered outside for his meal (he swears he got actual daggers this time). Then Minji has to be convinced that eating is more important than finishing her drawings. Everything just takes twice as long here and he might’ve dreaded the pace this morning but as he cuts up Minji’s chicken and heaps mash potato on her plate, it feels kinda nice. Kinda right.

Afterwards, he does the dishes as Hanbin goes to give both of the kids a bath. He can hear the happy shrieking and splashing but he thanks the Universe that he wasn’t asked to do that tonight. The smallest thing he’s ever bathed was the family’s old maltese and that always resulted in a wet dog running around the house.

“You want to do the stories tonight? She’s asking for Winnie and Piglet and apparently I don’t do the voices right.”

He’s sitting in the bedroom, wondering what the hell he should be doing now, when Hanbin comes in with a half soaked t-shirt.

“Why are you so wet?”

Hanbin just rolls his eyes like the answer is obvious. “You think Minji is all me? Then Jae’s all you.”

Such a small comment that probably meant nothing but it hits him in the gut anyway. It really shouldn’t have but it does.

The wall clock tells him it’s 7:30pm. Both kids are already in bed, which means the day is winding down soon. Just another 5 hours and he’ll be waking up in his own life again. His real life.

It’s a relieving thought at first; he can sleep in his own bed, drive his own car, do his dream job and go back to being only responsible for himself.

But...

Hanbin. And Hanbin’s kids. The sleepy neighbourhood. The dumb fucking car and judgmental dog. The worn in life here. What if...

“So is that a yes? Because you know she’ll just be in here in 5 minutes with her books.” Hanbin asks, now pulling off the damp shirt and wondering into their own bathroom.

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” He replies.

As predicted, Minji is still awake and sitting up in bed clutching the ‘Winnie The Pooh’ book in her hands with an expectant face.

He remembers that book. Not just the title or the edition but the actual physical copy. He takes it to flip to the first page and yes, it’s still there-the uneven childish scrawl stating: jiwons book!

This is his. From when his parents used to read it to him as a baby.

Jesus Christ.

How did she get that?

How real is this?

His hands are sweaty and shaky as he starts to read.

“Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, about last Friday, Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest all by himself...”

He reads and reads, all the while letting something thaw and melt inside him. It feels like memory and regret and nostalgia and guilt for not calling his parents more often. What even happened to him? What happened to the guy who used to love being read to? Or who used to eat platefuls of Hanbin’s mashed potatoes without a single care in the world? Or wanted to give everything to the one person he loved? What happened to that guy? When, how, why did he change?

Minji is fast asleep by now, her tiny rocket ship pyjamas sticking out from baby yellow bedsheets. Hanbin made an amazing kid. Not that he expected anything less.

“Night Minnie Mouse.”

Checking in on the baby was a mistake. He can’t help it. Minji was right about Jae; he is magic. A magic sleeping thing in a cow print onesie with the tiniest fingers and softest hair.

“Night little man.”

It’s not real.

Don’t get upset over something that isn’t even real.

He repeats it over and over in his head until that feeling of impending loss fades and he feels less pathetic for maybe wanting to stay a bit longer. Just out of curiosity or something.

When he gets back, Hanbin is already in bed, scribbling something in a notebook. It’s so early but maybe people with kids just go to bed earlier. It makes sense. He’s exhausted.

“The Park twins just cancelled all their piano lessons next week, guess we’ll be down $100 bucks.” Hanbin says with a slight frown. “No more unsolicited purchases of cherry ripe bars.”

He feels the warmth on his cheeks. Kim Jiwons never blush but apparently they do here.

“Sorry, thought you liked them...”

“No, I do. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

He’s still thinking about cherry ripe bars and piano lessons as he stands underneath the shower. Well, that explains the shiny black Steinway piano in the living room. He knew Hanbin studied music and theory throughout Uni (he was there) but last thing he remembered was Hanbin going for some kind of job interview or internship at a big record company. They had crazy dreams of writing music together once. What the hell happened. What kind of choices did Hanbin make to end up giving kids piano lessons as his job? Such a small title. Hanbin deserves something bigger, always has, always will.

He dresses hurriedly in the bathroom because well, it’s kinda weird being naked here. It’s stupid really. Hanbin’s seen everything anyway.

“Hey, mum just messaged me. You still want to go out tonight? They can come over to keep an eye on the kids.”

Jesus.

Going out?

After the long-ass day he’s just had?

“Okay, I know that face. So that’s a No then?” Hanbin says with an amused smile.

“We can.” He says, trying not to let the hesitation and dread show. “We can if you want to.”

Hanbin shakes his head and types out a text reply on his phone. “No, it’s okay. I know you had a rough day. Maybe next week?”

The hopeful lilt at the end of the question makes his chest ache from the heaviness of guilt. Is there any version of Jiwon that’s good to any version of Hanbin?

“Yeah, definitely next week.” He nods as he climbs under the weird yellow sheets, avoiding eye contact because he knows that there will be no Next Week for him. Maybe the proper Jiwon will remember to go.

“Okay.”

Once the lights are flicked off, it’s even more tense and awkward in the dark silence. Neither of them are asleep.

9pm.

Nearly there.

“Was it just the headache?” Hanbin asks suddenly. “Or is there something I missed?”

He turns his head but it’s too dark to see much. “Just the headache and maybe the flu or something. It’s...it’s nothing you did. Just felt like shit when I woke up this morning.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay. Night, then.”

“Night.”

10pm.

11pm.

11:50pm.

He’s still awake.

Eyes well adjusted to the darkness by now and not once leaving the rise and fall of Hanbin’s sleeping body next to him.

I don’t want to miss you.

But I think I already do.

Midnight.

#Memento Vivere #Double B #misery loves company #come join me in this sad story #hanbin #jiwon #Baby Jae is magic #Minji is still weird #lbr #feat. Rocket #because he's the best dog ever

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kngminho · 5 years

Photo

kminho uploaded to YouTube: Pre-wedding log (Thoughts and Answering Questions)

the video starts with minho obviously sat in his living room, settled near the tv because he really didn’t find it in him to settle in a better looking spot when the rest of the apartment looked cluttered. he meant to clean, but he felt like he needed to do this first. he wanted to get this out before jinwoo could come home. he had his phone propped up on the table near him so he wouldn’t have to hold it up as he recorded the video. He sometimes used jinwoo’s nice camera for his vlogs, but it didn’t feel necessary this time. this felt like a really rushed video that he didn’t care much about the details.

“hey, everyone.” he smiled softly to the camera, although he could see how nervous he actually is on the screen. “today… well, i realized it was only a number of days i could count on one hand before the wedding…. and i don’t really know what to… say or do?”

he took in a deep breath. “i felt like i wanted to record something before i was officially married, and… gosh, this video isn’t planned at all…” there was a little pause, and a tiny zoom to his thinking face. “not like most of my videos are planned anyway.” he laughed a little at himself.

“i guess i wanted to voice out my feelings and thoughts somewhere, and i feel like doing it here is the right choice. i’m letting out my thoughts, and i’m telling you more about me… if you wanna think about it like that.” he shrugged, looking off at the wall where a few pictures hung there. “i’ve had a lot of people asking me how i feel about getting married and… i honestly never know how to answer that question. happiness is an obvious answer, duh. i go on and on about this a lot to the point where i’ve had people say it’s annoying.” minho laughed a little, looking at the camera again. he didn’t look like he was bothered by the comments, but more like he was trying to think of what to say. “i feel like… it’s like i’m on the highest cloud. even higher than cloud nine, if that’s even a thing. it’s so overwhelming”

“let me try to put you in my perspective.” minho looked around for a bit like he was thinking again. he really kept thinking that he needed to seriously cut out a lot of the pauses. “i met jinwoo when i was five years old. yes, i said that before but, let it sink in. five years old. i am twenty two now. that’s…” another pause, but this time there was another zoom for comic relief because minho was actually struggling with doing basic math on his hands. “seventeen years. seven-fucking-teen years of friendship. we’ve seen each other grow up, we know each other better than anyone. we’ve seen each other go through a lot of struggles, and we’ve… we’ve really spent every single day together. well, almost everyday. we’re each other’s family members because… there was no one else. and now… i’m marrying him? my best friend? we’ll be each other’s family for real and... i’m spending the rest of my life with him… we’ll have kids and a house and-… fuck, this is a lot to think about.”

there was another long pause, but a sudden cut in the video was there right after. minho was looking at the phone camera again, looking like he just wiped away some tears. “i’ve gotten a lot of questions about us, but one that really stuck to me was an anonymous message on tumblr. i answered it saying it deserved a whole video and… here we are.” he chuckled. “the question was about my favorite memories of the early parts of mine and jinwoo’s relationship. ooof, this might be a long one.”

“by relationship, are we talking about earlier memories? or are we talking about strictly boyfriends relationship? i’m assuming the latter, but i also wanna tell stories from when we were younger because why the hell not.” he chuckled. “i’m pretty sure i’ve told the story about how we met in another video, and if you don’t remember... well, here we fucking go, because i love telling it.” minho smiled, leaning forward to the camera. “it was the first day of kindergarten, and i honestly was pretty stoked about being there. meanwhile other kids were crying their eyes out because their mommies left them at school... i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be making fun of kids. anyway, there was this tiny kid sitting beside me and he was very very quiet and shy.” there were pictures of him and jinwoo in that age popping up on the screen for a few seconds, because he wanted to put it into perspective how young they were. “anyway, when the kids calmed down, we were asked to pick coloring pages out of the little stacks of paper on the teacher’s table, and everyone fucking ran for it? like... weren’t ya’ll just busy crying?” minho laughed a little, not helping but to find the thought funny. “now the biggest cliche happens, and i remember this so vividly and i don’t know how that’s even possible considering how young i was. there was one paper left, and i reach for it, and i see another tiny hand reaching for it too. it was this tiny ass, adorable ass kid. like... i’ll put in pictures, and you can see for yourself.” and indeed there were more pictures.

“he looks at me all nervous and i ask him if he wanted to color it together, and he just... NODS!” minho had to hold his head for a moment, just thinking about how cute jinwoo was in that moment. “he was so hecking cute, i wanna go back in time and hug him, not even joking.” he laughed. “anyway, we became close after that. there were annoying kids in our class who’s take his things away from him, and i was THAT kid in class who was super protective of his new best friend.” he chuckled. “actually, we were so stuck together that his mum told us that we were always excited to go to school and cried whenever the other had to be absent. one time i even insisted on going to school while i was sick because i wanted to hang out with him, and if that’s not a gay childhood friendship, i don’t know what is.”

“we matched for halloween for the first time. I was winnie the pooh and he was piglet.” there was a picture of that popping up again. “i slept over his house and he slept over at mine. it was hard to be allowed to do that, though. we were so young. his mum told us that he’d even cry if she told me to sit in a different seat that him, because we always shared the same dinner table seat.” minho laughed, imagining what that was like even though he didn’t really remember it. “life after those days got a little harder the more we grew up, but i don’t wanna get into that. this is... i want this to be a happy video.”

“anyway, now to actually answer your questions... there’s so many memories from our actual relationship as boyfriends, and i could go on for hours.” minho leaned back against the wall, looking at himself in the screen of his phone that was recording, then looking back down at his hands. “i remember how he’d always kiss me whenever he got the chance, just because he could do it. he was shy about it at first, but he was so happy about doing it, and i never minded it. basically after the night i woke up in his bed and told him how i feel about him, i kept sleeping over in his room. and then slowly but surely, his room became our room. and my old room just ended up being a storage room. i remember being so happy about getting to move my stuff to his room, and it felt like i was moving apartments to live with my boyfriend.” minho giggled, cheeks slightly going red out of embarrassment over his own thoughts. “take a shot every time i say the word room.” he joked.

“there was a little fight over something so stupid and insignificant now, but it was like... two or three weeks in, and that terrified me. what if we didn’t stay together? what’s gonna happen? i was being over dramatic, yet i was the one who was upset. i’m not gonna go to detail, but i’m mentioning this because... he made it up to me. and it was with our first date. he decorated the extra room we had, made a pillow fort and bought snacks. he apologized very sincerely and we were okay again. that was the day he sang save me to me for the first time.”

“you know how people say there’s like a... a honeymoon phase in every relationship? i’m pretty sure we were in that for a very long time, and we still haven’t gotten out of it. i think it was almost a year into our relationship, maybe... i don’t remember exactly when. but there was one time we had a date on the beach. we went there at night, and i was the one who drove us there because i was excited about getting my license. we put up a tent and we stayed there overnight. i think the reason that’s one of my favorite memories is because... this is gonna sound very cliche and stupid but, we... we kinda ended up yelling to the sea about how much we loved each other.” there was a little zoom to minho’s serious face. “stop laughing, we were deeply in love.”

“that was the same night he showed me perfect by ed sheeran for the first time, and we danced together. we made s’mores and laughed so much. it couldn’t be anymore perfect.” pictures from that night popped up on the screen too, being some of minho’s favorites. “there’re obviously more memories with us two. i just don’t think i could cram it all into one video, because there’s something else i wanted to talk about.”

“last year, around february, when jinwoo was on tour. it was a time where i... i’ve never felt so lonely. this is not to say that him and i never communicated. we did, and on a daily basis whenever he was free. i never cared if it was the middle of the night or really early in the morning, or if i had any classes. he could’ve called me at any possible time ever and i’d answer. i just... i missed him so much during that time, and i couldn’t even stay at our apartment for that long. i would sleep over at yubin’s or... or with mina, or kitae. just anyone who would let me crash for the night. it felt so lonely going to bed and not having him there, you know?” minho could feel himself remembering exactly how he felt back then, and he had to pause once again. there was another cut in the video, and his eyes were a little red in the next clip. he was looking down at his hands most of the time, however.

“i was preparing to fly over to paris with my friends to go see him for his birthday. i bought him the camera he’d always wanted, and... and, gosh, the night before i had to fly there... i sound pathetic, but i couldn’t sleep because i couldn’t stop crying.” minho rubbed his eyes with his fists in an attempt to calm down. “i got up early in the morning and i bought a ring for him. no one had any idea, and i didn’t plan this shit. i just thought the night before that i never wanted to feel this lonely again. because that’s how lonely it would feel it he wasn’t in a relationship with me, and... and it’s silly to think that way, because he never would’ve really left. he was just on a tour, for fuck’s sake. but that’s how i felt, and i felt like i needed to propose to him as soon as possible.” he shrugged, letting out a small sad laugh at how stupid he sounded. “anyway, i get there and we talk a little bit, i give him his birthday present and then i tell him i have another present and... boy, OH BOY, the i fucking cried while getting down on one knee and proposing to him. i was so embarrassing, but it was so worth it. he knocked me down to the ground, but i didn’t care, because i was happy. i was crying, but i so motherfucking happy, i can’t even describe it to you right now.”

“and now... a damn year later, we’re finally, FINALLY, getting married. and i can’t get the thought through my head, like... fuck, we’ve really been through so much together, and we spent all of our lives together, and now we’re? getting married? fuck, yeah!” minho laughed quietly, leaning forward to his recording phone again, a little happy smile on his face. “there’s so much more i could say but... i think that’s all for today. i hope you didn’t mind this rare, sentimental video. i promise, there’s a fun one coming soon. thanks for watch and sticking ‘til the end. i love you.”

#–– Γ self para ჻#jinhowedding #youtube #i didn't proof read the end oh well

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whompingcauldron · 6 years

Text

BULLY - Sirius Black

SIRIUS BLACK X READER

WARNINGS: None

PROMPT: Where Sirius apologises

MASTERLIST

Your dark robes swayed, as you entered the dining hall you had missed so much. The floating candles made the bewitched ceiling glow, you sat down with your best friends; Marlene McKinnon and Lily Evans, two strikingly beautiful girls, the three of you hit off since you shared a dormitory together.

Your stomach grumbled as your E/C eyes flicked from the large wooden door to your best friends, Marlene was twirling a golden lock around her wand and Lily's nose was stuck into a book.

Finally, the doors flung open, nervous first years stumbled in, anxious, nervous, for what was about to happen, you always enjoyed this typical yearly scene, it amused you to see these eleven and twelve-year-olds stressed about getting sorted. At the end of the table, were the one and only; Marauders, a group of four boys who practically ruled the school. The leader; James Potter was an arrogant git, who bullied Severus Snape, Lily's friend, and others, the genuinely smart and friendly one; Remus Lupin, he was a good student and took care of his friends, though after a certain period of time he would come to school, covered in scars and bruises, it caused a lot of gossips, next was the outcast; Peter Pettigrew; a short (he has a strong resemblance to a rat as Marlene had stated) boy with small watery eyes, he trailed behind those three boys constantly, and finally, the womaniser; Sirius Black; girls drooled all over him, constantly trying to lure him into their bed, only a few girls had managed to get him alone, but it was nothing serious. The Marauders were snickering and howling with laughter, they always seemed to be up to something, and that something wasn't good.

Gryffindor had gained thirteen new pupils, you hoped that they'd make Godric Gryffindor proud, and yourself, you were a prefect and very proud of that. Remus Lupin was also a prefect, so you spent most of your duties with him, he was kind to you and never seemed to bore you, he'd tell you about something stupid Peter had said, or how James had yet again, failed to seduce Lily. This, of course, you already knew, Lily ranted about how he had the brain of a common toad, that he was badly mannered and that he should give up. Halfway through Dumbledore's speech, Sirius groaned loudly, which made everyone turn to him.

▬▬▬▬▬

'Well, Mr Black, you are right on queue as I was about to say; Let the feast, begin!' cheered the professor.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched the first years' jaws drop in awe, the goblets filled themselves with sweet pumpkin juice, plates stacked with mounds of delicious food, and absolutely mouth-watering pudding. You and your best friends chatted supper away, mouths stuffed with pies, the three of you talked about a wide variety of topics. Bedtime arrived soon, tonight was the only night where you wouldn't be on duty, you planned to spend the night engulfing sweets and gossiping.

▬▬▬▬▬

Morning arrived at a supersonic speed, you dragged your tired self out of bed and into the bathroom, eyeing your messy reflection, vivid purple under-eye bags could be seen along with your h/c hair tangled. You cleaned yourself up and put on your perfectly folded uniform, you'd always wondered who did all of this work. It was quite early and no one was really awake, so you took 'Witch Weekly' and headed down to the common room, the sizzling logs from the fire slightly shifted as the fire crackled. Indulged into your magazine, reading the advice column, you didn't notice the four infamous Marauders walk into the room, Sirius' silky black hair caught your attention and you looked up from your book, he noticed you looking and winked at you and you inaudibly gagged. Remus furrowed his brows at Sirius and turned to you.

'Oh, hey Y/N," he waved at you, 'we've got our prefect duties later don't forget.'

'Yep, I know.' you sighed,

'Well, catch you later, bye!'

You watched as they scrambled out the circular room, not even bothering to know what they were up to. The room glowed a gorgeous golden colour as the roaring fire illuminated it, you eyed the scarlet tapestries and the bulletin board, that was soon to be covered in important notices about Hogsmeade, N.E.W.T.S, O.W.L.S and such. Swinging your legs over the squashy armchair you sat in, you walked over to the tall grandfather clock by the entrance and read the time; 7:20 AM, almost time for breakfast. Walking out of the portrait hole, clenching your magazine and you're worn out satchel that slouched over your left shoulder, hopping onto a moving staircase, you made your way down to breakfast.

▬▬▬▬▬

Pouring yourself some Pixie Puffs, you listened carefully to Lily.

'It's a rather interesting subject, I mean why do we keep certain animals as pets when they're obviously dangerous.'

'Well, maybe because there's no record of them doing no harm.' suggested Marlene,

'Possibly. But, I think it's alright if the person who's taking care of them was a professional.' you said honestly.

Lily rolled her eyes, ready to prove you wrong, but Marlene quickly interrupted.

'Anyways, have you heard about Frank and Alice?'

'What about them?' asked Lily.

You were suddenly very intrigued, Marlene leaned in, ready to spill the tea.

'Rumour has it that, she'd been waiting all summer for him to ask her out, eventually, she got sick and tired of lying there day after day waiting for him to ask her, soooo...'

'So? Come on, finish!' you urged,

'Wait, don't tell me-'

But before Lily could finish, Marlene squealed like a piglet.

'She asked him out! And, to no surprise, he said yes!'

'Merlin's beard! Are you serious?' you croaked, choking on your cereal,

'I was about to ask if she'd done that.' laughed the auburn-haired girl.

▬▬▬▬▬

After a few of your morning classes, you had a free period, so the three of you headed off to the Clock Tower Courtyard, hoping to be able to start your essay on Veritaserum. It was a calm day, and you wanted to be in advance, although you knew that Marlene would start getting bored and boundlessly blab to you about her struggles with boys. Sitting down on the freshly mown grass, you pulled out a spare book and placed it on your lap, layering on a brand new piece of parchment, grabbing your ink you dipped it into some ink and started scribbling on information.

halfway through your essay, you noticed two notorious boys hexing a Slytherin boy, Sirius and James versus Severus, Lily shot up, storming up to them, boiling with rage, you quickly grabbed her arm.

'Let me take care of this, otherwise, Potter'll be asking you out, again.' you told her.

She pursed her lips and slightly nodded, sitting back down next to Marlene, who was impatiently watching you march off.

'Leave him alone!' you barked,

'L/N, come to ruin our free period?' snarled James,

'You two better stop now, or I'll be sending you off to detention with Professor McGonagall in a shoebox.' you threatened,

'Why don't you tail along your two little friends, as usual, seems to be the only good thing you do.' implied Sirius.

'You'll regret saying that.' you bellowed,

'What're you gonna do, huh? Turn me into a matchstick, very harmful.' teased the boy.

You growled loudly and flicked your wand, sending Sirius flying, pointing it at James, he backed up slightly, holding his hands up in surrender.

'Alright, alright, relax.'

Stomping off, you snatched up your books and ran up to the astronomy tower, you could feel the steam blowing out of your ears and nose, glaring at people who looked at you oddly, you were going to hide in the library but right now you needed fresh air. A couple of students and teachers tried to ask you what was wrong but you ignored them.

Perched on the railing, head in your palms, you stared at the passing students. Breathing in the fresh air, you relaxed. After a few minutes, you heard footsteps shuffle behind you, swiftly turning around, your eyes met the eyes a boy's grey ones, a boy just a few minutes you had hexed.

'What do you want?' you scowled,

'I just wanted to say, to say sorry.'

'Since when does the Sirius Black apologise?' you asked, moving closer to him,

'Ever since he's developed a crush on the Y/N L/N.' said Sirius lightly smiling.

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could say anything, Sirius literally took the breath out of you, he placed his rough lips on your soft ones. The kiss was awkward at first, but it slowly melted into something passionate yet gentle, you felt him grin into the kiss, slowly pulling away.

'Well, what are we?' you questioned,

'Not quite sure, but we'll figure it out.' he responded,

Taking your hand in his and placing a weak kiss on the back of your hand.

'I know we will'

▬▬▬▬

A/N: I don't really like the ending, but hope you enjoyed it! <3

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #soulmateau #hp #hp fanfic #harry potter #sirius #sirius fic #sirius one shot #sirius fluff #sirius fanfic #padfoot x reader #padfoot #siriusblackimagine #sirius black angst

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ademainalors · 6 years

Text

Doing this

1: I’m afraid my name will have to stay ademainalors ;)

2: 20

3: 3 Fears

The afterlife

Immortality

Mortality

4: 3 things I love

Anime

My Dell Latitude E6410

Cartoons that cannot technically be called anime

5: 4 turns on

Power

Intelligence

Strange hair

Complex understanding of trauma

6: 4 turns off

Misogyny

Homophobia

Clingyness

7: My best friend

Brie or Kyle, although to be honest, I haven’t talked with many humans in the past several months, so at this point, both individuals probably only consider me as a regular friend

8: Sexual orientation

Pansexual

9: My best first date

Aromantic, I never knew, but they were all awful

10: How tall am I

5″ 5′

11: What do I miss

When Zack used to do house rules DND with me, Kyle and Armstrong

12: What time were I born

Heck if I know

13: Favourite color

#ff0000

14: Do I have a crush

I tend not to pay my crushes much mind now that I’ve come to terms with my aromanticism, but when Nathan joked about how he’d want to fuck someone in the server closet, in my head I was like, name a time

15: Favourite quote

16: Favourite place

The Japanese Library

17: Favourite food

Pasta

18: Do I use sarcasm

No, never, not me ever

19: What am I listening to right now

The silence of the void (that’s not an edgy band name... yet)

20: First thing I notice in new person

Their relationship to power

21: Shoe size

10 I think? Fun fact, I religiously wear crocs, and crocs actually stretch out with use, so my crocs have been growing with my feet.

22: Eye color

Hazel

23: Hair color

Brown

24: Favourite style of clothing

I was talking to Kyle about Queer Eye, and I said, “You know what they would say to me if they saw me, they would say I wear clothes that nobody would ever wear because no clothes express my gender, and then they would fix that” And he told me I was perceptive. My favorite shirt is an MPR Volunteer shirt that has no gender.

25: Ever done a prank call?

Nope

27: Meaning behind my URL

What Adrien says to Marinette at the end of the umbrella scene, “See you around” in french

28: Favourite movie

Tangled, but in Spanish

29: Favourite song

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

30: Favourite band

Baths

31: How I feel right now

Overwhelmed

32: Someone I love

My parents platonically

33: My current relationship status

Single

34: My relationship with my parents

Good

35: Favourite holiday

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

I have my ears pierced

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

I’d prefer to keep those Japanese bathhouse privileges

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

I shared a blog with Kyle on Blogger and he wanted it moved because Blogger sucks

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

I’m irritated with my last ex, as my last relationship made me realize I was aromantic and that I was doing painful amounts of emotional labor and downright fraud in the name of normalicy

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

Nope

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

My dad? Platonically

42: When did I last hold hands?

In my last relationship

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

30 Minutes

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?

I haven’t shaved them in the past three years!

45: Where am I right now?

My room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

Nobody, that’s why I don’t drink

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

At a reasonable level

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

Yes

49: Am I excited for anything?

If I’m being honest, no, but there are several things I would tell people about IRL if I were asked

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

Is the opposite of non-binary cisgender, or another non-binary? Doesn’t matter, the answer is no

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

Too much

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

My dad, platonically, two weeks ago

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

I wouldn’t care

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

My lab partner for this goddamn lab report

55: What is something I disliked about today?

My lack of productivity

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Justin Trudeau

57: What do I think about most?

My time efficiency

58: What’s my strangest talent?

Mechanum: I can execute complete instructions perfectly, and I can memorize sets of complete instructions. So if I get a set of complete instructions, I can master the task associated. I am very good at extremely divergent tasks due to this.

59: Do I have any strange phobias?

Having to attend SCSU

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind. Pansonic HMC150s are the bomb .com

61: What was the last lie I told?

I told a group of people that I was sick. I’m actually just anxious and depressed, which is it’s own kind of sick, but I implied influenza.

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Video chat.

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Aliens probably, but they likely formed at the same time we did and are either too far or lackluster like dolphins. Ghosts, not really.

64: Do I believe in magic?

I bought a spell from a witch down on money, I just like witches though, I’m not wiccan

65: Do I believe in luck?

100%

66: What’s the weather like right now?

Clear night skies?

67: What was the last book I��ve read?

Sedra Smith, Microelectric Circuits

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

69: Do I have any nicknames?

None that I like, except 雨

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

Concussion, 6th grade skiing accident

71: Do I spend money or save it?

Mostly save

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

Nope

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?

Yup, my blankets are pink, should change 74: Favourite animal? 75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

Sleeping

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

Ochocki-Becker

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Get it together, by the Go-Team 78: How can you win my heart?

You can’t. I’ll be your QP if we make a utilitarian symbiotic domestic partnership. I’ll fuck you if you’re sexy and can somehow manage to not trigger memories of my sexual assault, but like, that won’t happen.

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

Rest in Pieces

80: What is my favorite word?

です

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

I’m not here to start a war, though one of them is haiku bot

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

We are not Trump

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?

Nope

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Pausing time

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Tell me about your sexual history

86: What is my current desktop picture?

Me standing next to a no parking sign in Japanese in a small town in rural Minnesota

87: Had sex?

Yes

88: Bought condoms?

Kind of

89: Gotten pregnant?

90: Failed a class?

I have more W’s than a web address but no F’s

91: Kissed a boy?

Yes

92: Kissed a girl?

Yes

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

94: Had job?

Yes

95: Left the house without my wallet?

Yes

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

Actually, surprisingly, Kyle. We’re cool now.

97: Had sex in public?

98: Played on a sports team?

Yep, 3rd grade, Softball. I wanted to play baseball and I hated it.

99: Smoked weed?

100: Did drugs?

101: Smoked cigarettes?

102: Drank alcohol?

Confirmation wine, a sip of champaign that I spat out, a sip of gin that I spat out. I can taste the death of my mouth microbiota when I put alcohol in my mouth

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

Vegetarian

104: Been overweight?

Nope

105: Been underweight?

Probably

106: Been to a wedding?

Yes

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?

まいにち

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

はい、アニメを見ます。

109: Been outside my home country?

Nope

110: Gotten my heart broken?

I don’t have one, but I found out a FWB hated non binaries. It was kind of crushing.

111: Been to a professional sports game?

Yep

112: Broken a bone?

Nope

113: Cut myself?

Sort of, TW: I pick at the skin around my toenails, sometimes with pushpins

114: Been to prom?

115: Been in airplane?

Yep, Houston

116: Fly by helicopter?

117: What concerts have I been to?

The FIRST Robotics concert

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

Yep

119: Learned another language?

はい、すごし

120: Wore make up?

Yeah, I hate it

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?

TW: Is rape virginity

122: Had oral sex?

Yeah, it sucked.

123: Dyed my hair?

124: Voted in a presidential election?

Hillary Clinton

125: Rode in an ambulance?

Yes, concussion

126: Had a surgery?

Wisdom teeth removal

127: Met someone famous?

Dessa

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

Probably

129: Peed outside?

130: Been fishing?

Yes

131: Helped with charity?

Yes

132: Been rejected by a crush?

Yes

133: Broken a mirror?

Yes

134: What do I want for birthday?

Cash

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?

Adopting teenagers, they’ll have names already, probably one, but maybe more if they’ve got sibs, Despicable Me style.

136: Was I named after anyone?

Something

137: Do I like my handwriting?

No, it’s an abomination

138: What was my favourite toy as a child?

Piglet

139: Favourite Tv Show?

Assasination Classroom

140: Where do I want to live when older?

Minnesota doncha no?

141: Play any musical instrument?

Used to play trombone

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?

Scootering accident

143: Favourite pizza toping?

Alfredo sauce instead of tomato sauce

144: Am I afraid of the dark?

No 145: Am I afraid of heights?

Yes 146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

No 147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

The midterm two days ago

148: What I’m really bad at

Reading university textbooks

149: What my greatest achievments are

Student Senate President

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

I was in a political argument and some bitch brought my yellow teeth into it

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery

Take the payments over time, put in a bank account, pay off people’s loans on the contidition they try to pay off other people’s loans, put solar panels on things, buy a tesla

152: What do I like about myself

My hair 153: My closest Tumblr friend

@dragon-in-a-fez 154: Something I fantasise about

Being dictator of the US 155: Any question you’d like?

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nukyster-blog · 3 years

Text

Changing Course chapter 21) Forty minus one

Ivar awoke by the first sunlight of dawn. The white rays were watery and cold, like the temperature in the dungeon. Frost had slowly allowed itself to enter the castle’s walls and inched inside, ridding Ivar’s prison cell of the last bits of warmth.

Ivar did not recall if he slept or lost consciousness due to the cold. He guessed the latter, as the bitter cold had chilled his fingers into useless numbness and crept further down into his body. It spread painfully from his toes into his feet robbing his skin of all color.

“Maybe”, he thought, “this is not the worst day to die”; he honestly didn’t believe he’d survive the winter.

The cold of night had robbed him of strength, but not of spirit. He would not fight his death but he’d do everything in his power to keep his jaws locked and mouth shut. He’d undergo whatever punishment those Christians thought proper for his crime and die with dignity.

A gust of frigid wind wrapped around him like a shawl woven by ice itself. His teeth chattered as he tried to warm his body by rocking back and forth.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He began to lose his sense of time. Back and forth, back and forth. Hunger gnawed a hole in his stomach. Back and forth, back and forth.

The dead rat slowly but steadily became a reasonable meal. Back and forth, back and forth.

“Ivar?”

Ivar glanced up to the barred window. It was Piglet; in order for her to peek into Ivar’s prison cell she had to lay her head on the ground.

“Piglet?” Ivar crawled underneath the window and stared up, squinting his eyes. The young woman above reached back for a moment and managed to shove her arm through the bars.

A polished, red apple dropped into Ivar’s lap.

“Ivar…” her voice was brittle and soft; she reached further down into the cell as a desperate attempt for a last connection.

It was impossible. Even if Ivar had been able to stand, the walls were too high.

“I guess this is it then Piglet, we had a good run,” Ivar spoke toneless, watching her hand reach and wave, “we were a proper match you and I. It’s a shame you believe in a false God…” and that was where he stopped himself from becoming sentimental. Because both of them were aware they would never see each other again, there was no reason to voice the truth.

“A shame,” he ended and shut out all of her weeping. For a while, her arm remained reaching and waving, but as Ivar remained silent, Piglet eventually gave up and left.

He’d never know if she’d spoken any last words of goodbye for him, because he blocked everything out, all while eating her apple. Even the core, because he did not want her to get in trouble and he could use all the strength given.

.-.-.

Overnight the lessers of the castle had placed a beech wooden pole in the centre near the well. It wouldn't be the only silent witness of Ivar’s punishment. The rest of the bystanders were already buzzing and whispering about what was to come.

The Giant hadn’t been pleased with Ivar’s forehead statement and had wiped off the Runen R with spit and his sleeve.

The cobblestones bruised his knees as Ivar was shoved, poked, and kicked in order to get into the centre.

The three rulers and the fair maiden had taken place nearest the pole, seated on wooden chairs. Their place had the best view for the spectacle, although Lambertus and his wife, Haedwien, did not look pleased with being present. The fair maiden had her hand pressed against her mouth, cheeks pale and on the verge of getting sick.

And Ludolf, sat sunken on his seat, bored and maybe even a bit embarrassed. For it was due to his “wound” that the slave had to suffer and be an example for the rest. The bystanders were on foot, nudging and pulling to get to the front row.

For some reason Ivar was pleased to see the Christians fight for the best spot, at least those soulless bastards had some sense of bloodlust. Maybe they were more Viking then they’d like to admit.

Ivar was forced on his knees, facing the pole. His arms were stretched far above his head and tied to the beech wood. A knife was dragged jaggedly through his humble tunic, tearing the fabric open, baring his back, shoulders and neck completely.

“Will they Bloodeagle me?” Ivar wondered stunned, as he pressed his cheek against the wood in an attempt to pick up everything that was happening behind him. But his arms were tied too high, leaving his face and most of his upper body pressed against the pole, minimizing his mobility.

The Giant spoke some biblical nonsense; Ivar concluded from the Giant’s tone. Ivar’s assumption was completely confirmed when he heard the book slam shut.

The first lash came completely unexpected and Ivar broke his solemn rule—to keep his mouth shut. A pain plagued hiss managed to escape through his teeth. The second lash managed to hit the exact same position as the first and cut through Ivar’s skin. A tortuously slow pattern emerged, one of two lashes and then a moment of ease. Ivar later learned that moment of pause wasn’t for him, no, it was for the Giant, so his arm would not tire.

The lashes seemed to rip Ivar open to the marrow, like rigged daggers the leather dug deeper and deeper into his skin. Time did not matter anymore; all that remained was the rhythm of the lashes.

A scream from deep within forced its way from Ivar’s mouth, it was not one of fright, but one formed entirely of anger that unleashed itself like a demon. It took two more lashes to silence him, fists clenching and teeth locking up all of his remaining sound. Now that his anger escaped him, there was only despair.

Ivar lost count after fifteen, his ears were ringing and he could no longer see clearly. His mind seemed afloat; his body a vacant, aching shell. There was a low indistinct sound, almost animalistic. It took him a moment to realize those where his own hoarse moans.

The cobblestones wore more and more spatters of Ivar’s blood. It did not take many more lashes for his battered skin to peel loose, falling down at his knees like bloody autumn leaves.

A deep, raspy caw called down to him. Ivar’s eyes were able to focus enough on the top of the pole to see the black silhouette of a raven, contrasting against the milky white sky.

“Father—“ Ivar watched the bird as his front teeth scraped over the beech wood.

The raven cawed again, its beady eyes mercilessly taking in the scene beneath it. With wings black as tar, it gracefully landed near Ivar’s knees. Ravens were known for their curiosity, but even they knew their limits. It wasn’t common for birds to come so near such a large crowd of humans. But the raven did not show any hesitation and pecked at the remains of Ivar’s skin. It peeked up again, taking a piece of Ivar before lifting off, heading off into the milky white sky.

Ivar inhaled a sharp breath as the leather tore at his skin again, but this time he felt elevated.

“You can beat every inch of my body,” he whispered hoarsely, “but you cannot kill me. Not today, because I am Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok, and I have my father’s blessings.”

His eyes rolled back as his body was close to giving in to the immense pain scorching his entire back. The crowd had grown silent; most faces contorted with plagued expressions. The fair maiden had fled the scene. Ludolf’s lips were twisted into a satisfied, lopsided and sadistic smile.

Pain prevails over every emotion. It conquers lust, hunger, envy, hatred. Pain can divide brothers by blood; it can drive wise men mad.

To triumph over pain, you need to be extraordinary—near Godly.

In between the last few lashes, Ivar had an epiphany: he could not die before he’d fulfilled his destiny. And, although he did not know what lay in his future, he wholeheartedly believed the Gods had laid out an exceptional path for him. It became quite clear; he had beat death too many times to simply die by the hands of a Christian commoner.

Maybe he deserved this punishment, for he’d questioned the Gods too many times and cursed them for turning him from a cripple prince into a slave. His mother had been a Vülva, able to see the past, present and future. But interpreting the will of the Gods was hard, maybe she’d seen his death wrong and had it merely been a rebirth.

He’d been resurrected from death, by his father, time after time. So for today, Hellheim and Valhalla had to wait for his arrival, for he had his destiny to fulfill.

.-.-.

In the bible Moses’ Law referred to flagellation; the law itself meant forty lashes less one; thirty-nine lashes. The term was meant as a biblical one, in that 40 lashes were determined enough to kill a man, according to the Old Testament and thus 39 lashes was the most you give a man without declaring a penalty of death.

Today the crippled slave of de Haar survived forty.

.-.-.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, I’ve been so impatient to write this chapter. At the start, I only had a few guidelines: hurt, massive hurt and excruciating hurt. But then I figured I had to keep Ivar’s spirit intact in order for him to survive. So yes, once again Ragnar in the form of a Raven reappeared. As I’ve mentioned before, you can see this every way you like, spiritual, emotional. Is it just a young man in desperate need of comfort, or is there truly a link between Midgard and Valhalla? Pick whatever you please. And in case you wonder, I’ve made up Ivar’s entire path towards his destiny like the moment I started writing this story. In my head, it’s all written out, wrapped into a trilogy. Now just the time to drabble it all out. The 40 minus 1 is a true thing btw, I’ve done some (too much) research, it’s believed that Jesus received 39 whippings and since I’ve thrown Christianity into the mix I figured I might as well add some information as well.

So that was it for today, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, or sat there cringing in your chair, either way I’ve done my job well.

Xoxoxo Nukyster

The kickass beta: @Sarahh-Jane

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