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#today's my late grandmother's birthday&also my name day; i was given her name as my middle name.
jvzebel-x · 2 years
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comin' down to the riptide...
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22 and 23 September 1762: A Life Gained, Another Lost in the Gwillim-Spinckes Family or: A Very Special Baby
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Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe, née Gwillim in 1790, at 28 or 29 years old.
Today is 23 September 2021, which may sound insignificant, particularly when compared to a certain fairly recent meme-able date, but for me, there's some measure of historical significance connected to both 22 and 23 September. I originally planned on making this post yesterday but didn't get around to do it, so here it is now; those days were two rather important dates in the life of one of the historical figures I post about every now and then, and in 2021, they even fall on the same weekdays as they did in 1762, the year Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe, née Gwillim, was born. This is going to be a post about her family and early life, and why those two dates in late September were so important, shaping her upbringing and future outlook on life.
Happy B... Baptism Day
We don’t know exactly when Elizabeth Posthuma Gwillim was born; only that she was baptised in All Saints Church in Aldwincle, Northamptonshire, on 22 September 1762 (though the parish record misspells her name as Elisabeth Posthuma Gwilliam), her godmother being her maternal aunt, Margaret Spinckes (future Graves).
A persistent misconception about her year of birth that has over time been repeated in print every now and then is that Elizabeth was born in 1766, not 1762, which is easily refuted: both her parents died within nine months of another in 1762; not to mention Elizabeth Posthuma's baptism and her mother's funeral occurred within a day of another and are both listed in the parish register for that year.
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All Saints Church, Aldwincle. By the way, All Saints is allegedly the first champing-church in the UK (champing being the thing where you can rent a disused church for an overnight stay, the word being composed of church+camping). So yeah, you can stay overnight where a host of Elizabeth's ancestors, including her mother and grandmother, are buried, her aunt married and she was baptised. Another, more famous name connected to All Saints is John Dryden, who was also baptised there, and also related to Elizabeth's family. Definitively on my bucket-list.
While the year is thus fully established, the exact date is not; we know she was baptised on 22 September, but the day of her birth remains unclear. A helpful detail that may allow pinpointing her birthday somewhere close to 20, perhaps even 21 September is the fact that Elizabeth was baptised on a Wednesday, not, as the Book of Common Prayer advises, on a Sunday:
The people are to be admonished, that it is most convenient, that Baptism should not be adminiſtered but upon Sundays, and other Holy-days, when the moſt number of people come together: as well for that the Congregation there present may teſtify the receiving of them that be newly baptized, into the number of Chriſt’s Church; as also because in the Baptism of Infants every man present may be put in remembrance of his own profession made to God in his Baptism. For which cause also it is expedient, that Baptism be miniſtered in the vulgar Tongue. Nevertheless, (if necessity so require) Children may be baptized upon any other day. [1]
In little Elizabeth Posthuma’s case, it’s possible that “necessity” did “so require”: given her mother had died and the baptism was performed even before the burial, her remaining relatives probably were particularly anxious for the life of the child, even more so in an age of high infant mortality that had struck the family previously in the generation of the new baby’s late mother and aunt: of six and five children of the Gwillim and Spinckes families in the generation of Elizabeth Posthuma's parents, only Elizabeth's aunts Elizabeth Sophia and Henrietta Maria survived their parents; of the Spinckes', only Margaret ultimately survived her mother (her father having died in 1749).
1762: Two Funerals and a Baptism
In 1750, Elizabeth Posthuma’s parents Thomas Gwillim (1726–1762) and Elizabeth Spinckes (1723–1762) married on 14 January in Whitchurch, where the Gwillims were based at a manor house called Old Court (which, similarly to All Saints Church in Aldwincle, is now a Hotel). Groom and bride were first cousins through their mothers. All her life, Elizabeth was very close to her sister Margaret, who would frequently stay with her at her marital home in London while her husband was away. The couple remained childless, yet was probably quite happy; relations with his in-laws were so good that Thomas even named Margaret as the beneficiary of his will in case something should happen to his wife, should she, unbeknownst to him while on campaign, predecease him- his intention to ensure his possessions would go to someone he approved of in the event of the deaths of both him and his wife proved to be prophetic.
Thomas, then a Lieutenant Colonel in the 50th of Foot, was stationed in Germany and returned home on his Christmas leave in 1761. After 11 years of marriage, it appears that a Christmas miracle happened- their first and only child was conceived during his leave. Sadly, this was to be the last time Thomas came home; he died a mere month later, on 29 January 1762 and is presumably buried somewhere near Kassel (Hesse) in Germany. He never received the news that his wife was expecting.
Elizabeth, recently widowed and pregnant, dissolved the London household she was no longer able to finance without her husband’s pay with the help of her younger sister and for some time, moved in with her in-laws, but returned home to Aldwincle for the birth. What exactly went wrong can’t be ascertained; at 38, Elizabeth Gwillim was old for a first-time mother, and there appear to have been severe complications, since she died shortly after having given birth; she lived just long enough to see her baby daughter.
Contrary to the fears the baby might not survive the first few days of her life, Elizabeth Posthuma, whose middle name had been given to her with the intention to reflect the sudden deaths of both her parents, grew up in what could be called a sort of ‘custody agreement’ between her maternal aunt and grandmother in Aldwincle, with whom she lived primarily, and the Gwillims at Whitchurch, whom the little girl visited frequently. Both paternal grandparents died when she was still very young, leaving only her two aunts Elizabeth Sophia and Henrietta Maria, with whom she was extremely close to the point that Elizabeth Sophia was the only person Elizabeth Posthuma wanted with her in the room when she had her first child in 1784.
Smells Like Teen Spirit
In June 1769, a third part-time home was added when her maternal aunt Margaret married Admiral Samuel Graves, who primarily lived on his country seat at Hembury Fort House in Devon. I really need to make a post about Margaret and her rather fascinating life at some point, but suffice to say here that she, a proto-feminist if you will whose views on women's rights and -education have barely lost any of their currentness even in 2021, had never planned on ever getting married at all before Cupid’s arrow struck.
When her grandmother died in 1776, Elizabeth was given the choice where she wanted to live, and she decided to stay with the Graves’. While Margaret Graves was strict and a disciplinarian to the core, Samuel Graves seems to have been more indulgent.
In a way, Elizabeth was as much a miracle to him as to her blood relatives; he had been childless from his first marriage and Elizabeth became the daughter he never had- substitutes for sons there were plenty, beginning with his godsons John Graves Simcoe and Richard Graves, the son of one of his older brothers, and countless nephews. Letters from later years between Elizabeth and her best friend since childhood days Mary Anne Burges are surprisingly relatable and give insight into how surprisingly little has changed about what it's like to be a teen: the two had sleepovers, stayed up late together on their so-called “vigils”, eluded Margaret’s school of strict discipline and bible study by quite literally running for the hills and made up secret nicknames in Spanish (which, surprise, Margaret didn't speak) for the somewhat kill-joy aunt.
While Samuel Graves was arguably the more indulgent parental figure in Elizabeth’s life, he apparently introduced her to his godson Richard while both were still fairly young, hoping the two might fall in love and get married once they were older. I haven’t found any historical proof for this particular anecdote, but the introduction of the two is said to have gone so spectacularly wrong that Elizabeth and Richard had a terrible row which ended with the tiny, less-than-5-foot (1,52m)[3] Elizabeth kicking him out of his uncle’s house. “Dick” as he was referred to in the family, and Elizabeth never got along for the rest of their lives to the point Richard was once again shown the door, this time of Elizabeth's own house- so much at least is well-documented.
While Elizabeth was very much aware of how special she was to her relatives, it seems as if she, in her younger years at least, did not quite care for the constant memorial to her parents that was her own name: an artwork signed by her as “Eliza Gwillim” and the name given to her firstborn, also Eliza (picked by the proud new papa in order to reflect his love for his wife) may indicate that sometimes, she wanted to be just plain Eliza- not Elizabeth Posthuma, on whose shoulders the expectations of her entire family weighed.
Speaking of the family's expectations, her aunt Margaret had had Elizabeth's life planned out for the latter in advance: she wanted her niece to grow up into an independent, unmarried woman who would thus not die in childbirth and could retain legal ownership of her vast inheritance instead of having to yield control of the same to a husband upon marriage. While I am willing to believe Margaret had good intentions after having been there to watch the sister who was also her best friend die, she appears to have had trouble letting Elizabeth go and allowing her to be her own person. She never accepted either Elizabeth's husband or her best friend and at least in case of the latter, tried to rid herself of a younger woman she saw as a competitor for her niece's affection time and again by treating her as unkindly as she could, hoping Mary Anne would one day just walk away.
However, like many children whose parents/guardians have had their life mapped out for them in advance, Eliza grew up and had other ideas. It probably didn't help that the only person self-assured and curageous enough to stand up to Margaret Graves was Eliza, who arguably had reached the necessary levels of self-confidence to oppose her aunt from the latter's very upbringing in which Eliza knew herself to be at the centre of the universe of all the adults in her life. The teen rebelled, and graduated from silly nicknames and hiding from her aunt by getting herself an older boyfriend the latter thoroughly disapproved of... But that's a story for another day.
Footnotes/References:
[1] The 1662 Book of Common Prayer as printed by John Baskerville in 1762 section on baptisms, p. 2 [accessed 23 September 2021].
[2] Here's an excellent family tree of the Gwillims, Spinckes' and SImcoes to disentangle all the different Elizabeths.
[3] While it was noted that Elizabeth was rather small, I don't know how her supposed approximate height was established; until the early 20th century however, a then extant garment (the skirt of a 1790s ensemble by the looks of it), worn by Elizabeth in Upper Canada, was kept at Wolford Lodge, so I'd guess the skirt was used to guesstimate a relative height. Sadly, the skirt almost certainly fell victim to a blaze in the first half of the 20th century that destroyed Wolford Lodge and its contents entirely; a rather bad photo from the 1910s, when John Ross Robertson, Elizabeth's first biographer managed to befriend the last Mrs. Simcoe, travelled to Wolford to collect images for his project publishing Elizabeth's Canadian diary, luckily survives.
For more on her early years, I warmly suggest this sadly somewhat dated, yet well-researched and to this date only biography of Elizabeth: Beacock Fryer, Mary (1989). Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe 1762-1850. A Biography. Toronto: Dundurn Press.
Images:
Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe by Mary Anne Burges, 1790. Photograph by the Library and Archives of Canada, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons [accessed: 23 September 2021].
All Saints Church, Aldwincle. Photograph by John Sutton, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons [accessed: 23 September 2021].
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First Impressions
DUET MASTERLIST 
desc: all love stories have a first page. for y/n and george, that first page is marked with paper swans, paint and ribbons. 
a/n: hello! this is part of a collab between @ickle-ronniekins and myself! we’re both very excited, and hope that you adore this as much as we adore talking about it. please, go and send erica lots of love! all of this was inspired by her lovely writing, and i’m so blessed she went along with this crazy idea of mine. 
warnings: none
George wondered how he’d never seen you. Of course he’d looked at you before-- it was impossible not to, given all the classes you’d had together the past couple of years. You were the quiet Hufflepuff, with the love of ribbons. If George was hard pressed to think he would suppose you two had exchanged a few hello’s before. 
But now he’d seen you. At thirteen, George hadn’t thought there was much of a difference. Today he’d finally realized that there was. 
George’s mess up in charms had flung a paper swan right into your hair, and when you’d made eye contact with him from across the class you’d let out the most beautiful laugh he’d ever heard. Delicately you’d sent the bird fluttering back to him, only to land softly into his hand. Wide eyed, he’d stared at you still. Fumbling over the right way to say sorry he’d finally heard your voice. 
Soft. Like a bell. 
“If you’re not more careful you’ll send it flying out of the classroom!” 
George felt as if he couldn’t breathe, nodding numbly. Fred seemed unable to pick up the difference in behavior, and grinned confidently at you from across the classroom. “How do you know that’s not the plan, huh?” He nudged George with his elbow, expecting him to chime in and was puzzled with his brother’s silence. 
You’d gone back to helping your friend, and George wondered desperately how to get your attention. 
____________
You were angry. It was an uncommon feeling for you to have. Normally nothing bothered you all that much. If Professor Snape was to believed, “Miss L/N, if your head would be farther in the clouds it would be detached from your body.” That one had hurt your feelings a little bit. But this time you were angry. You were angry and sad. Your grandmother had sent you a very pretty jumper for your birthday, since you got to go to Hogsmeade for the first time, and now it was covered in paint. You directed all of your frustration towards the ones responsible. The Weasley twins. One of them at least had the decency to look abashed about it. George stared at you, focusing on what looked like tears in your eyes. It was meant to be a harmless prank. Some floating balloons of paint floating above the Hufflepuff’s common room entrance. He’d set them to pop when he’d seen a mass of students exit for breakfast. They’d chosen the weekend deliberately, so no one would be late to class. 
Groans were to be expected, but it ripped his thirteen year old heart apart to see you, who’d been on his mind almost every second of every day looking so upset. 
An older student noticed your expression and worked to calm you down whilst shooting the boys a severe look. 
“It’s just paint!” Fred called out. Seeing someone so upset over a prank bothered Fred too, though he tended to hop on the defensive when that happened. “No need to cry about it!” 
“You’re mean!” your voice cracked with emotion, even as the older student worked to vanish away the paint. You wondered if your hair had gotten disturbed. It’d been a long process to look for your first trip to Hogsmeade. If you were going to be truthful to yourself, you’d wanted to impress the twin who’d flung the paper bird in charms, but now you wondered why you would want to look nice for someone so rude! “You’re inconsiderate! What if someone had gotten paint in their eyes, huh? You’re both mean!” 
George hated how your lip was wobbling. 
Fred’s shoulders slouched as he looked at the Hufflepuffs, the crowd growing larger with the commotion. Had someone gotten paint in their eyes? That would have been a mood killer. He didn’t want to actually hurt anyone that day. 
When no one seemed to be rubbing their eyes, Fred turned-- refusing to apologize if no one got hurt, and tugged at George’s sleeve. “C’mon, let’s get going.” George couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, and it wasn’t until Fred had tugged at his sleeve much harder before he’d began to retreat with his brother. 
Still dumbfounded, he retreated wordlessly. 
_______
A week later, George was still pouting. It was infuriating. Fred wondered if he could launch a bludger at his twin in the next game. “It’s just one girl who got mad! Stop acting like a sop.” 
“She was right though-- it was a mean prank.” “We’ve done meaner.” “Doesn’t make it better.” Fred groaned, his head thrown back, loud enough to draw attention from Ron and his first year friends. “Bloody hell! If you keep talking like this I’ll start thinking you’re in love with her.” 
When George was silent, Fred snapped his gaze to him. “You can’t be serious, George. Are you kidding me?” 
“Sod off.” He sat up quickly and made his way out of the common room before anyone else could overhear. “And shut up, Fred.” 
“Have you even talked to her?” 
“I said shut up.” “What’s her name?” George paused, his cheeks red. “Y/N.” 
“And how do you know that?” He knew it, because he’d peaked at the title of your History of Magic essay. Fred didn’t need to know that. Instead, George was silent. 
Until Fred stood in front of him. 
“Do you not know what sod off means?” 
“Is this why you’re acting weird? Because she got mad?” “She looked like she was going to cry!”
Fred blanched at the idea that something he did might have made someone cry. At least someone who wasn’t a jerk. He disliked having to confront the idea that even nice people might dislike his pranks. “So? It’s a dumb thing to be upset about!” 
George continued to glare at his brother before Fred let out a dramatic groan. “Fine! Fine. We’ll find her, apologize, and then you can make out in a corner somewhere before you get married forever since you’re so deeply in love with the girl you’ve never talked to.” 
Fred dodged George’s wide swipe at him before taking off down the hall, with George nervously following. 
No, this could not end well. 
_____
George had been right. When they’d found you reading underneath a tree, you’d looked none too pleased to see them. It wasn’t until he’d seen your lips wobble a bit before you spoke that he realized he’d been staring at them. 
“What do you two want?” 
Fred looked at George to speak up, and rolled his eyes when his twin still seemed shocked and silent. He focused his gaze back on you. “We’re sorry.” There was some frustration behind Fred’s voice. “We didn’t mean to make you upset with the paint. Should have thought about it first before we tried that.” 
Your eyes darted between the two, caught off guard. You only knew them as pranksters, not much else. 
Though your friends had been teasing you a lot about your moping around ever since the prank. It’d been hard to explain how sad you felt over the pretty twin who’d launched the paper. Especially when you knew it’d make you sound silly. The one you’d become smitten over stayed silent like always. “Why’d it take you so long to apologize?” 
Fred grimaced, and George finally seemed to find his voice. “We just wanted to be funny… didn’t want to think about making someone sad.” 
For a moment your frown grew. “That’s silly.” 
The boys spoke in unison, “We know. We’re sorry.” 
“You ought to know pranks can make people sad.” 
“We should. We’re sorry.” 
With a few more sighs, you closed your book. George watched as your frown eased up. “I forgive you both.” In fact, your easy going smile returned. He felt his heartbeat race so quickly that it caught in his throat. “Now, who’s who?” You pointed your finger at George. “You’re the one from Charms.”
You watched his face turn a very pretty shade of pink, one that highlighted his red hair and freckles wonderfully. You wondered how it’d taken you so long to realize how absolutely sweet he looked. 
That supposedly made the other one also adorable, but the shy one had something special about him. You couldn’t put words on it. 
“How do you know it was me?” 
“You’re the shy one.” Your brow furrowed at the sound of the other laughing. You wondered why. “You’re the quiet one.” 
He seemed rather shocked while his twin continued to laugh loudly. When he stayed silent, you worried you’d touched a nerve. “It’s alright to be shy and embarrassed! Once a few weeks ago I realized one of my buns had fallen out when the ribbon came off. I felt very silly, I hadn’t figured out all day why people were giggling when I walked around.”
Somehow, you’d become even cuter. George wondered how that was even possible. But your soft voice and easy smile seemed to smooth out every single nerve he felt. 
“I’m George.” He reached out his hand to shake yours. 
“George!” It made his heart stop, to hear you so delighted while saying his name. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Y/N.” 
George resisted the urge to comment that he already knew your name. Instead he took your hand and shook it, delighted to find it so soft and warm. 
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
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Golden Time - In which she meets the parents
> Pairing: Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Reader
> Summary: Y/N can finally go home after everything that had happened. Jungkook can finally have his mate home, safe. Though with what’s waiting for her at home, maybe staying in the hospital is a better idea.
> Genre: Hybrid!au, romance, smut, angst, fluff
> Word Count: 1756
> A/N: Hey guys... here is a small one shot of Bunny Hybrid Jungkook from my series Golden Time!! I hope you all like it!! Thank you so much for your support!!
Series Masterlist | Hybrid Series Laws | 
Very few things have ever made Y/N nervous.
The earliest she could remember of ever being nervous was 5th grade when she had to make a speech in front of her whole school. The topic was easy, she got to speak about what she loved most, Hybrids, got to tell her whole school that adopting and caring for hybrids was rewarding. But the crowd, talking front of a crowd would have any 10-year-old shaking in the knees.
Before she went up to speak her mother took her to the side and spoke to her softly; “Sweetheart, remember… Never fear a crowd, your voice could be the thing that helps them to see.”
With a determined nod, Y/N steeled her nerves and gave her speech. Her mother was so proud of her that she shed a few tears, her little girl, taking on the world from a young age.
The next time she was nervous, she had just started 9th grade, her grandfather had bought her to the hospital. Her mother had gotten sick, her father spent every waking hour with her. There were loves you saw in the movies, loves that people sang about, immortalising their hearts and soul for the world to remember. And then there was the love that Y/N saw, the love that bought her into this world.
It was a love she could only dream of.
Even as her mother got sicker, her father never once lost the stars in his eyes every time he looked at her. Y/N will always remember how much they both loved each other, how every visit she would hear them softly whisper “I love you.” She would always find a fresh bunch of flowers sitting next to her mothers’ bed, peonies, they were the first flower her father had ever gotten for her mother.
He had picked them at random, showing up on her front door with a small bouquet of them. Then once they started to date, at least once a month he would have a bouquet delivered to her at work, he’d show up on her doorstep with them. The on their wedding day, the only peonies were for Y/N’s mother’s bouquet.
9th grade is hard enough for a teenage girl, what made her truly nervous was the fact that she was saying goodbye to her mother. Y/N sat with next to her father, holding his hand as they both stayed with her, her grandfather on the other side saying goodbye to his own daughter.
Though, Y/N steeled her nerves, she had to be strong, not just for herself but for her father and grandfather too.
Although prepared for it, she wasn’t prepared for when her father died just after she graduated 12th grade. She had no room to be nervous for that, only heartbreak of losing her father, but happiness he was with her mother now.
One of the biggest times for her to ever be nervous was when her grandfather handed ownership over to her. It was late in the summer, her 21st birthday was soon about to happen, and she sat on the couch next to her grandfather. He had an early birthday present for her, something her mother and father had left for her, something they wanted to one day see her with.
“Happy early birthday.” Her grandfather hand given her a medium sized box.
It wasn’t heavy, the box itself was yellow and covered in sunflowers, pink ribbon and a pink bow sat on top of it. The yellow seemed to have faded, from the looks of it, this box had been wrapped for a few years. It was the small white card that sat on top with messy handwriting, her name marked twice on the front in familiar cursive and what could only be described as chicken scratch.
“Is this...?”
“Your mum wrapped it before she went into the hospital.” Y/N’s grandfather smiled at the small box on Y/N’s lap. “Your dad added the finishing touches before you graduated.”
Carefully opening the box, never once wanting to destroy something her parents had left for her, Y/N found 3 things. First was a picture, of her parents and her, on the day she was born, wrapped in a tiny pink blanket staring up at her mother. She could hear her parents, telling the story of the day she was born, how panicked her father was, how calm her mother was. It was something she would always remember.
Second was a small pendant, the same one Y/N’s mother wore and was once her grandmothers and went back 5 generations. Y/N had originally thought it was buried with her mother, turns out they kept it for her to one day inherit.
The third thing in the small box was what had made her so nervous. They were a stack of papers, neatly tied in twine with three signatures on it, her mothers, her fathers and her grandfathers. They were the ownership to the Hybrid Sanctuary, signed, sealed and delivered  
“Pa…” Y/N looked back up to her grandfather, tears in her eyes.
“It’s time for you to take over.” Her grandfather reached out to take her hand, giving it a warm and loving squeeze. “I’m an old man, sweetheart. It’s time for me to relax, to give this place over to you. Everyone already knows that I am giving ownership over to you completely. They’re all very excited.”
Y/N couldn’t help but to cry. As happy as she was, she was more nervous then anything. She was only 20 years old, what if she completely messed everything up and ran the sanctuary into the ground?
But like always, she steeled her nerves and even today she continues to work and carry on the legacy of her family. Of keeping Hybrids safe, giving them a safe and secure future, as her family had given others and herself.
So why, was Y/N unable to calm her nerves now? What was she so fidgety? Why was she unable to steel herself when she needed it most?
She knew she was nervous by how she let Jungkook take care of her, something as simple as carrying her bags, opening the door for her. It was all things he loved to do, but would usually be met with an argument from Y/N. But now she happily let him, too nervous to actually do it herself.
Her hands were clammy, her fingers played with the zipper of her jacket as she sat in the back of the car with Jungkook. Y/N had just gotten out of the hospital and she had argued at first to drive, but Jungkook put her in the back of a taxi with a smile. He held her hand as they drove the familiar streets back home before pulling into the driveway, a large sign on the front gate.
“WELCOME HOME, Y/N!”
“Everyone missed you.” Jungkook whispered into Y/N’s ear as they drove to the main house, each small cottage they passed having their own welcoming sign. “They insisted on welcoming you in some way.”
“I really missed this place.” Y/N whispered back as they pulled up at the small gate of their home.
What waited for her on the porch of her home however, made her almost want to run.
Mr and Mrs Astor stood on the top of the stairs, smiling brightly as they saw Jungkook run around the car fast to open Y/N’s door. Y/N eyes however were focused on the couple that stood next to them. The man was tall, even taller than Jungkook. Y/N had no doubt that with a closer look he would look like an older Jungkook, from where she sat, she could tell where Jungkook had inherited his smile from. His arm was thrown over a smaller woman whose eyes were seeming to shine as she watched Jungkook hold Y/N’s hand as they walked to meet them at the bottom of the stairs.
“Mum, Dad, this is Y/N.” Jungkook spoke between everyone.
“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”
Y/N introduced herself as she bowed a little before letting out a small surprised squeak. Jungkook’s mother wrapped her arms around Y/N, a slight sob leaving her as she pulled Y/N to her. Her large ears falling over Y/N’s shoulder, her nose twitching as Jungkook’s mother rubbed her chin over Y/N.
“Thank you for saving my boy.” Jungkook’s mother repeated a few times before Y/N realised she was crying into her.
“Mum, please don’t forget she just got out of the hospital.” Jungkook gently reminded the woman who held onto Y/N like she was a lifeline.
“Sweetheart, don’t scare the poor girl.” Jungkook’s father pulled his wife back a little. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you.” Y/N shook his hand as she smiled. “I’m okay. Nothing hurt.”
Y/N had to make sure Jungkook knew she wasn’t as fragile as she had seemed.  What had happened to her was something no one would ever blame her for showing weakness. But she also didn’t want Jungkook to think she couldn’t take care of herself, as much as she liked him taking care of her.
“Oh of course, we should get you inside.” Mrs Astor moved forward to Y/N, taking her arm to walk her up the stairs. “You shouldn’t be on your feet.”
“Mrs Astor, truly I’m fine.” Y/N tried to protest but it seemed it was a trait in this family to help Y/N. “I haven’t left my bed for weeks, because someone decided that I should be waited on hand and foot.”
Y/N threw a smirk in Jungkook’s direction, Jungkook who only seemed to puff his chest out as he followed Y/N and his grandmother up the stairs. Y/N saw his parent’s reaction, if anything his mother and father looked proud that their son was taking care of her.  It must have been something to see, their once lost son, happy, taking care of his mate and having them both home, safe.
“A hybrid should always take care of their mate when they need it most.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at Mrs Astor’s words as they moved into the house, making sure Y/N was sitting comfortably on the couch. “And Jungkook is just taking care of you.”
Y/N didn’t know when, nor how, but sooner rather then later she was sitting on the couch with Jungkook’s mother and grandmother on either sides of her. Jungkook sat opposite her with his father and grandfather, everyone talking, drinking the tea Mr Astor made. It felt like a family… it was a family, and they happily adopted Y/N into their family.
Tag List
@ariana-winchester95 | @haven-raven012591 | @jennyjq | @Iwannag0h0me-c0m | @cstobitk | @goldenbangtann | @patpus | @lorielulu7 | @bubbletaetaesstuff | @narcissism-iskey | @yoongisabby | @demonslunacy | @sana-b | @chanyeolol | @nanskidoodle | @gracehiii | @legazix | @mintyrae | @the-immortal-dreamer | @kb-bangtanenthusiast | @aesthetewriter | @namjoons-dimple | @a-feeling-of-euphoria | @joyful-jimin​ |  
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Survey #399
“i was raised by the devil’s own kin, taught me that a good time was never a sin”
Do you like wine? NOOOOOOO that shit is gross. Explain the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? Having an infected pilonidal cyst drained. Would you rather go on holiday somewhere warm or somewhere cold? Cold, for sure. What would be your ideal pet? I reeeeaaaally want a very visibly sunset morph ball python one day. The really pretty ones are expensive as fuck, but omg, I want one so badly. What was the last book you were required to read for school? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It was fantastic. Would you chew somebody else's gum? EW FUCK NO. What was the last type of meat you ate? Chicken. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Whenever they wanted, as long as a professional did it. Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Probably McDonald's. Bats are not spooky or are they? I adore bats. Do you like the song "Womanizer?" Unabashedly, yes, haha. I love the beat and it's really catchy. Do you know how to change a tire? Nope. How big is your backyard? Very small. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I've actually never played a Nintendo 64. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? I don't want any. Does a career in finance sound interesting to you? Absolutely not. When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I. HATE. Beans. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Those that deny the existence of dinosaurs. Fossils don't lie. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. What’s your favorite dessert? That's so hard, but probably cheesecake. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? Vanilla ice cream. Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? Sara. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No. If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? No. What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? My APAP mask. Insurance covered it way more than even the women in the office were used to so had to look into it. Insurance has been nice to me lately, from TMS to this. What was the last reason you took medicine? I had a massive headache. Any important birthdays coming up? My older sister's was today, and her eldest daughter's is in two days. Mark's birthday is the 28th, and that's like a holiday in my book lmao. What colour are your headphones? These earplugs are pink. How do you express your creativity? I mostly write RP and rarely poems. I also like to draw sometimes, and I'm big into photography. Gypsies or gnomes? Gypsies. Dragons or fairies? Dragons are my favorite mythological creatures. Elves or pixies? Elves. Where is your favourite place to get breakfast? Maybe Cracker Barrel? Or Waffle House. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer. I hated it. Nickname you’re called the most? "Britt" is the most used. Do you sleep on your stomach? I can't now with my mask. -_- That's how I usually slept. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Would you ever want a super-realistic baby doll? Fuuuuuuuuuck no. I don't like dolls, never mind realistic ones. Ladybugs or bumblebees? Ladybugs. <3 What is the best thing that ever happened to you? My first round of a partial hospitalization program and meeting my psychiatrist. Both that therapy and proper medication is the reason I'm alive. What is something really hurtful someone you love has said to you? That I was an "ungrateful bitch." What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? One for advanced ball python husbandry. There are some SERIOUS elitists in there, but it does have great information. Did your mom ever own a typewriter? I think she did? We used to have one, so. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Maybe orange. I want to wear a black dress and get married in the fall, so, Halloween vibes! :') Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? I think Alaska. Do you wear a watch every day? I never do. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? No, thankfully. Not yet, anyway. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I am much happier with pets. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. Have you been hurt more by friend break-ups or romantic break-ups? Romantic ones. Who is/was the best friend you have ever had? Sara. Do you own a trenchcoat? No, but I wish. They're badass. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? My iPod that I've had since middle school. That bitch STILL works, and I use it heavily. Are you currently in a smoking environment? No; people aren't allowed to smoke in our house. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Does anyone you know own a bird that can talk? My old friend Alex did. I don't know if I can call her my "friend" anymore because I haven't seen or heard from her in well over a year at the bare minimum. Do you ever not speak to someone because you’re afraid you’ll annoy them? STORY OF MY LIFE. Is there any drama going on in your circle of friends? No. But I don't really have a "circle" of friends to begin with. Have you ever lost your luggage at an airport? No. Have you ever been on a rollercoaster that actually scared you? I don't go on rollercoasters. If given the opportunity, would you act in a commercial? No. Do you believe in finders keepers in most situations? No. How many pills do you currently take a day? Ugh... Now keep in mind this number encompasses medications that I just have to take a larger dose of that particular med; I don't take this number of different prescriptions. AS a whole though, I take uhhh. Somewhere around nine or ten in the morning, and six at night. I might be off about my morning pills. What do you take medication for? Bipolarity and depression, anxiety, OCD, severe heartburn, even more intense nightmares, uhhh... maybe I'm forgetting others? Idk, man. I'm on too many. Have you ever had a bag stolen? No. What class from high school did you love the most? Art. What class did you hate the most? Economics. If you don’t have a car, do you wish you did? Not at this very moment, because it'd be useless as I don't currently drive. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. What, if anything, do you substitute for fries? I just eat normal fries when they're offered. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? No. Have you ever written a poem for someone? At least twice. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who’s the last person who cussed you out in anger? I think only my grandmother has done that. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve meet online? Sara. Have you friended your parents on FB? Mom, yes, while Dad doesn't have one. What do you absolutely have to have to make your birthday feel special? My family. Mice or roaches? I love mice, but roaches creep me out. Have you ever received a gift and truly did not know what it was? Yes. A family friend is good at that. Is there anyone whose grave you visit? No. Do you like being in pictures? NO. Do you travel a lot? Not at all. Have you ever eaten a dog treat? No. I've eaten a guinea pig treat though, haha. And it wasn't awful. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, but turns out my alcohol tolerance is too high while only liking weak alcohol to begin with. Have you played cards recently? No. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't do that, I'd get way too dizzy, and besides, I don't want a headache. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I've been wondering if I should (for the most part) abandon human photography. I've lost so much passion for it, and besides, I feel like I'm going nowhere with it. I know I really, really shouldn't, though. Have you ever captured a moth? I put a caterpillar in one of those little plastic habitats once as a kid that grew into a moth. I then released it, of course. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Do you have a really fat cat? No, he's healthy. Do your initials spell a word? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? Yes, that was my favorite! Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? No. Do your parents allow you to have your privacy? Yes. Have you ever been severely burned? No. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I've had many, actually. Guess with who. What was the weirdest thing you've ever seen cross the road? I want to say a turkey? Or maybe it was beside the road.
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dailypriya · 3 years
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⌠ MEDALION RAHIMI, 23, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, PRIYA DALY! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in MEDICAL TRAINING; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (perfectly messy curls falling on glittering shoulders, taped up hundred dollar bills and gold chains, dress code violations). when it’s the (cancer)’s birthday on 7/15/1997, they always request their CRÈME BRÛLÉE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.
                              𝖎 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉
death tw
ACCESS: GRANTED FILE NAME: DALY, P.; AMERICAN HEIR
Priyanka Daly grew up knowing that one day she was to inherit and run the prestigious Elizabeth Daly Foundation, a nationwide medical conglomerate based in New York City that had been around for nearly a century, named after her great-grandmother. It was one of the most respected foundations in the medical community, owning several hospitals around the US, and highly regarded. By the time Priya was born, her mother, Elizabeth Daly III was already seated at the head of the table of the board, her husband, Mark Daly (who had taken her name, agreeing that their daughter would have her mother’s and the foundation’s name) a voting member as well. The married couple were two extraordinary surgeons at the top of their respective fields, general and cardiothoracic surgery. Priya had almost no choice but to dream of being a surgeon like them one day, and to run the foundation with pride, and of course she strove toward it all her life. It was the end-goal, the only thing she could ever see herself wanting, and she grew up to work like hell for it.
Needless to say, the family had not only the money of two world-renowned doctors, but the family’s foundation. Priya, however, never took it for granted, at least not in her adolescence. She was raised to respect both her last name and the hard work that had gotten them all here today, raised to be a good girl, a respectable girl and never complain-- except for when she asked about her name. 
“Why am I named Priyanka? We’re Iranian, and why can’t I be Elizabeth like you and grandma?” she’d asked at seven years old when she’d caught the discrepancy. 
“My little darling, you are named after my very best friend,” her mother had told her with a ghost smile. “One of the greatest women I’ve ever known.”
“Where is she, Mama?”
Elizabeth Daly only smoothed the hair on her daughter’s head. “I’ll tell you that story some other day, sweet one.”
She believed her, because she trusted her mother with her life. As Priya grew, her mother had been her own best friend, and the person she relied on more than anyone, through childhood and adolescence alike. Her idol. In her later teenage years, though, she watched as her mother became Chief of Surgery at the hospital, and the foundation forced her to step back more and more from being a mother, working harder and longer days to give the hospital and the Elizabeth Daly Foundation her full attention. Still, she never stopped loving her daughter.
In early 2019, Mrs. Daly suffered a heart attack. Pretty cruel that one of the nation’s leading surgeons died unexpectedly in the middle of a hospital. Surrounded by doctors, sitting in a building full of medicine’s finest, there was simply nothing to be done, and not enough time to save her. It didn’t make sense to Priya, even as she processed the fact that this happened in part because she worked herself ragged, because she made her career her entire life outside of loving her daughter and husband, and because heart attack symptoms are so much harder to catch in women. What she started to feel instead of devastation was anger.
A beautiful funeral was hosted, and Priya endured kind words from almost every esteemed colleague her mother worked with, every mentor that shaped her, and every student she taught. She was loved, so loved-- that much was evident in the community around her that felt this loss at their core. But Priya wouldn’t cry with them, wouldn’t empathize, because all she could see was people that took her mother from her, people that her mother chose over her own life.
The tipping point was when she dropped out of med school. She fought with her father, she started acting out and behaving in all the ways she’d never been allowed to, feeling herself find some sort of relief in the freedom it brought. She’d stay out late drinking, partying, blowing money and maxing out her cards, though she knew she’d never run out. It felt good, like she could push and push the limits. Priya knew it was a common symptom of people who cheated death to try and chase extremes. She hadn’t been the one to come close to death, but it had affected her all the same.
After a year of her reckless behavior, her attitude and personality turning sour compared to the girl who always said yes and always tried to be the best, the foundation was more than sick and exhausted with the girl who was running their name through the mud of the streets of New York’s elite. And though secretly Priya still desperately wanted her birthright, to one day inherit the foundation, she couldn’t hide her disdain for it in turn.
Then she found her mother’s old medical journals, different ones all filled with notes on her residency as a young woman, plans for medical trials, love letters she’d drafted for her husband. It was an array of the woman she was in all her many sides. And in one of them, Priya found a photo of two young girls: one with long black curls and the same demure smile she’d always seen on her mom, another with short dark hair, brandishing a wicked grin as she held a young Elizabeth Daly close in the sunlight.
Penned on the back read, Lizzie and Priya, Gallagher ‘87, together til the end.
The page it had fallen out of described a place Priya had never heard about. She’d always known her mother had attended medical school later than usual, but she’d never known where exactly she’d been before then. And every time throughout her teens that Priya had asked about her mysterious namesake, her mother had always said, “When you’re older, darling.” She was older now, but she didn’t have her mother by her side anymore. All she had were broken dreams, a broken home, and a journal with a ticket to the last of what her mother hid from her.
By the end of the summer, she’d succeeded in following the trail to Gallagher Academy, dangling her mother’s name and the foundation’s glittery reputation in front of her long enough to get herself an entrance exam. Suffice to say, the material covered was a lot crazier than anything she’d seen in her own college and med-school exams, but Priya had managed to keep her wits about her, using her already advanced intlellect to navigate the test, part of it feeling strangely natural. 
It wasn’t until her acceptance letter arrived that she marched up to her father’s office, slamming the paper down with a bitter grin, and for a moment, Mr. Daly could have sworn he was looking at the spitting image of his late wife’s best friend. Priya only stayed long enough to fight about it, to argue about ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’, ‘can’ and ‘can’t’. By the end of the fight, her father could do nothing to stop her from changing her mind, but what he could do was offer a promise. If Priya saw this thing through, and graduated from her mother’s alma mater, he’d do his best to secure her place at the foundation’s board. But if she let her newly reckless behavior screw it all up, that was it. She’d be cut off for good.
“You’re on,” Priya had responded with steely confidence, once again shocking her father with her resemblance to her namesake.
The next morning, she was gone, on a plane to the school her mother had never let her know existed, but had given her both some of the best years of her life, and the woman she’d name her daughter after. Though Priya still holds so much turmoil in her heart, she wants so badly to be able to feel close to her mom again, and this might be the only way forward to do just that. Maybe spy school isn’t anywhere in the plan she’d crafted for herself at eighteen, but it beats staying in a broken home, waiting to be told she’d never inherit her family name the way she’d always wanted. And really, how hard can it be?
TL;DR - THE FACTS
Priya is daughter to two world-renowned American surgeons, also in line to inherit the Elizabeth Daly Foundation, a super fancy and huge medical conglomerate
her mother was the head of the foundation and Chief of Surgery at her hospital, both based in New York City
Priya grew up to be prim and proper, always saying yes and being the good girl
her mom was pretty much her best friend for all her life, even as her work took over she still managed to love and care for her family just as much
they’re Iranian-American, and she was named after her mom’s late best friend
in early 2019, after her mom worked her self ragged for both her jobs, she suffered a heart attack and tragically passed, forcing her father to take over the foundation
Priya knew it was because she worked so hard, that she barely took time for herself outside of others
she started to get angry, angry at the foundation for putting so much on her mom, angry at her mom for letting it happen, just angry at everything
she acted out the way she was never allowed to, starting to blow money left and right, drinking and partying, causing chaos and basically being an embarrassment to the whole foundation
eventually she found out her mom was a Gallagher alum, something that had been a secret to her all her life, so she gets herself an entrance exam
when she passes, her father gives her a promise: if Priya can manage to graduate from Gallagher, he’ll secure her place at the foundation, but if she screw it up, she’ll be cut off for good
Priya takes it on, her biggest reason for going to try and somehow be close to her mom again despite still being so conflicted and angry about everything
wild child is back to school!
let’s go lesbians!!
Medical Training major, because yeah that is the only thing she knows and she was always gonna come back to medicine eventually
reckless and rash, flirtatious and confident, a bit of a spitfire
CONNECTIONS
Nico Casiraghi: knew each other from richy-rich circles, always thought he was an ass; he’s now extra-condescending to her after she’s become such a menace and she hates him even more
Cecilia Casiraghi: also knew her before Cecilia ran away; pretty much just sees her as the ‘baby’ Casiraghi and has no idea how tough she now is
Margot Lusignan: met her at Gallagher, Priya pretty much became infatuated with her after their first meeting, definitely has the hots for her! fwb?
Jo Tran: knew her from New York; didn’t know a whole lot about her before, but now Priya thinks Jo is actually way cool
Ophelia Spencer: didn’t realize they met at the Gala, only sees her as some super rude girl who needs an attitude check!
Mary Sakamoto: the first person to really get her to smile at Gallagher; she’s been pretty happy to slowly become better and better friends with Mary
Stella Manchesi: Medical Training buds! Priya’s a little annoyed with the very casual way Stella takes on medicine, but she’s down with her anyway!
Juno Choi: knew each other from family in New York! Priya definitely thinks Juno is both super cool and considers her a good friend
Raina Virani, Beatrice Fitzsimmons, Calypso Marshall: her awesome roomies who she hasn’t allowed herself to get super close to, but she’d also fight anyone for any and all of them, do not mess with them!
(i’ve been all over the place the last two months, please dm me if i’m missing something or if you wanna plot anything!)
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syms-things-5 · 4 years
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Clear The Area - Chapter Two
Previous chapter HERE
Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language. 
Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?
Note: I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors. 
CHAPTER TWO
Sarah made very little effort to more that day. On occasion, and as often as she could, she preferred the relative safety of a self-made cocoon, with the excessive amount of pillows and duvet lying across her as she lounged on her bed, her wavy brunette locks in a messy bun. The alternative was a run followed by trash television (also one of her favourite guilty pleasures on a day like today) but both of those would have required her to get up and she didn’t feel like that just now. Even her phone telling her it was after one o’clock in the afternoon was enough to shame her into moving. The bedroom windows were as wide open as possible as was necessary for this time of year, and she slipped both feet out from under the covers to let the warm breeze caress her skin and envelope her space, calming her completely.
She must have fallen asleep quite early last night. Shan and Chris had left around 7p to head to their mom’s house, leaving Sarah to indulge in a much-needed shower before making her world-famous grilled cheese with as much as she could physically pack under the grill. She fell into a carb-induced come soon after.
When she woke, Shan had been making various noises around the flat, slamming a couple of drawers here and there before retiring to sleep. Sarah was too tired to check in on her to make sure everything was OK. Shan would no doubt fill her in when she saw her the next morning and they would inevitably catch up on each other’s gossip for the first time that week. Sarah had been working longer hours lately but as always, the first 20 minutes of the every morning was reserved for “Shan Time”; just listening to her vent for a little while. She never minded so much. It meant she didn’t have to pay attention to her own thoughts.
Today, though, she had a full 24 hours of freedom and was intending to make no effort whatsoever to move from her self-imposed exile. She had no plans; a rare treat for herself to do absolutely nothing.
Her laptop was open with numerous tabs keeping her entertained. She checked Facebook, spent 15 minutes on a Buzzfeed article about puppies, then read CNN. Always in that order on a day off. At some point, she’d stumbled upon a gossip article about Chris and Jenny and, against her better judgement, scanned the details. According to a “source”, it was lust at first sight. The pair of them hung out a lot at his apartment where he would hold his famous game nights - that detail she could 100% believe - and soon after she stopped her husband’s weekly visits to set. Her husband seemed quite nice actually, very non-threatening in his appearance, almost dorky, the complete opposite of Chris she realised which seemed a bit dubious. Indeed, Jenny herself appeared to be the complete opposite of who Chris usually pursued. She seemed nice enough, though, and an up-and-coming name in the comedy world. He mentioned her once or twice on the random weekends he would fly back to Boston for some down time during production. She was funny and outspoken. She was quirky too, both physically and intellectually. Sarah thought they might get along if they were to ever have the chance to meet in person. Nevertheless, she had picked up on a lot of insider knowledge thanks to knowing Chris over the years and could spot clickbait a mile away.
“I’m not so sure, y’know,” Sarah jumped as Shan climbed onto her bed behind her with a plate of toast and a fresh coffee in hand. She felt embarrassed to have been caught reading gossip about her brother but Shan seemed nonplussed. “About her. I reckon something happened and he’s burying his head in the sand about it.”
“Did he talk about her last night?”
“No, not really. Mom pushed it a few times and he got annoyed and left. Scott went after him, I think.” Shan seemed relatively blase about the whole thing as she sat cross-legged, munching on her toast. Sarah stole a mouthful of her coffee and closed the laptop, flinching at how sweet she liked it. “This is exactly what he does. He messes around and then doesn’t stick around long enough to deal with the consequences. He’s probably fucked up her relationship for good.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Oh, believe me. It’s textbook for him. He just does whatever he wants to do.” She finished her toast and took her mug back from Sarah. “What was your letter about?”
Sarah’s attention was quickly drawn towards her dresser table and to the brown envelope she’d forgotten about, currently sitting there unopened. She couldn’t bring herself to read its contents last night with how tired she felt and she was good at ignoring things when she wanted to. It was an exceptional talent of hers. 
“I haven’t looked yet.” She admitted. “I just have this...feeling nothing good’s gonna come of it.”
“Shan’s heart pinched for her friend. “Do you think it’s that lady again?”
“i don’t know. Maybe. I thought she would have given up by now but maybe she’s gone via the courts. I was reading about it online and apparently, they can request legal assistance when tracking down a child. Regardless of what the child wants. Can you believe that?”
She could. Shanna had found herself in a similar predicament some years earlier. Indeed, when they first met, their mutual experiences had been something of a conversation point and there followed many, many late nights talking until the small hours, drinking wine and putting the world to rights. It was the first time in her life Sarah had reached some sense of resolution and understanding about the whole thing.
It wasn’t common knowledge but Shan’s birth mother had contacted her a couple of years earlier via some handwritten letters and a few photographs. Turns out her parents had been childhood sweethearts who fell pregnant and ultimately decided they couldn’t raise the child together. There was also an allusion to some religious reason as well but Shan wasn’t altogether interested by that point. She recognised how unbelievably lucky she had been and didn’t want to rock the boar for something that may or may not make her life extra complicated. Sarah also sensed Lisa was struggling a bit with the contact as well although, outwardly, she was supportive of whatever decision Shanna decided to make. Chris and Scott on the other hand? Well, they were not pulling any punches. Chris in particular took the view it was some pathetic attempt to absolve themselves of guilt.
“Do you want me to open it?” Shan offered bringing Sarah back into the room. In all honesty, Shan would have done a lot more. She would have called up the Adoption Agency herself pretending to be Sarah and telling them in no uncertain terms where to stick it if she’d asked her to. It was one of Sarah’s favourite things about her; her unwavering loyalty to the people she loved the most. Act first, ask questions later. When she’d first met Carly, the oldest Evans’ child, she’d pulled her to one side and said “You’re stuck now”. She hadn’t looked back since.
Sarah pondered the letter before getting out of bed and collecting it from the table. She looked it over once more before opening the seam. It felt thicker than yesterday and there was definitely some kind of booklet enclosed. Just as she was about to pull the contents out, however, the front door slammed shut.
“Oh fuck. Sorry. I got annoyed with Chris always ringing the goddamn doorbell all the time so I just gave him the spare key, “ she remembered, quickly sliding off her bed and dashing out of the room. Sarah was going to follow her, another few minutes wasn’t going to make much difference. Then, just as she pulled the letter out a few extra centimetres, curiosity got the better of her. There, in black and white, was the name of biological mother: Charlotte.
Charlotte.
It didn’t sound like an older woman’s name to her. You know how some names have connotations of responsibility and authority and wisdom, and ‘Charlotte’ didn’t seem like one of them. It wasn’t a ‘Joanne’ or a ‘Susan’ or even a ‘Lisa’ now thought about it. Those names provoked feelings of comfort and reassurance. ‘Charlotte’ was the name of a twenty-something pretty blonde who had thousands of followers on Instagram and zero obligations. ‘Charlotte’ drove a swanky soft-top her father bought for her 21st birthday.
She was probably being petulant while staving off thoughts of Charlotte having been a teenage mother who couldn’t face the pressure of raising a child at such a young age. What if she herself had lived a troubled life and something bad had happened to her and she suddenly found herself bereft with a new born baby girl clinging to life in her arms? Or, like Shan’s mother, had some overbearing ogre of a grandmother shadowing her and telling her she would go to hell for having sex out of wedlock? Maybe she had been forced in some way to give her up outside of her control. Suddenly, Charlotte seemed like she could do with her sympathy.
Shan reappeared in Sarah’s doorway and paused before speaking noticing Sarah had the letter open in her hands. She gave her a sympathetic smile.
“Um Chris is here with some beers and stuff. I think Scott is coming over to watch a movie. I haven’t said anything about... you know...” She nodded towards the letter. Sarah smiled back at her but didn’t want to give away much more.
“Sure. I could do with a drink.”
*
A few hours had passed and they had been lying around the flat drinking beers and shouting at Iron Chef, Shan’s favourite lazy day programme. Scott had arrived not long after Chris but dipped in and out to have phone arguments with his boyfriend, Zach. Zach was his first boyfriend in some time that was considerably younger than him but seemed to fit in well with the family. It was perhaps fair to say that Chris was slightly less tolerant of him and possibly wary of any new figure in their lives given how much more visible he had become now that he was a living and breathing embodiment of a superhero. That said, Zach seemed nice and cute and funny, and Scott was clearly crazy about him and had been since Day One.
“Trouble in paradise.” quipped Chris as he walked into the kitchen. The front door was slightly ajar with Scott on the outside of the apartment, pacing up and down the hallway. Sarah had been washing up and wiping down the surfaces following dinner. Chris leaned back against the countertop next to her. “I don’t know why they insist on arguing so much. It’s just flogging a dead horse at this point.”
“He likes him a lot. When you like someone, you make it work not matter how hard things get.” she shoved him to move over a little so she could grab the sponge from behind where he was stood.
“No, you don’t. You ignore their calls and texts until they get the message. If not, you leave the country.” He smirked. Sarah shook her head in disbelief, chuckling, wondering if perhaps he was only half kidding.
“Do you think they’re getting anywhere?” he asked. She knew he was concerned deep down. He couldn’t help himself.
“I’m not sure to be honest. I’ve heard “you’re not listening to me” about seven times.”
Chris winced, folding his arms. They were both now staring at the front door when Scott suddenly returned. Without thinking, they tried their best to look as though they hadn’t just been eaves-dropping on his conversation. Chris reached for the spray, almost performing a full circle in panic. “So, I should just wipe this and then we’re done?”
Scott threw up his arms. “Oh pur-lease you guys. You don’t have to pretend that you couldn’t hear that. I know how loud I was talking.” 
“We weren’t listening!” Chris protested, feighing astonishment.
“You’re holding cleaning products, bro. You’re normally about as useful around the house as a wooden frying pan.”
The kitchen fell quiet as soon as Scott has walked back into the living room. Sarah wished she could have snapped a picture of the stunned look on Chris’ face right at that moment as he stood holding the Jif. He turned to look at her, offended.
“I clean.” he objected.
“are you trying to convince me or yourself?” she avoided eye contact, giggling to herself. She could feel the mock annoyance radiating off him as he stood to the side of her eyeline waiting for her to move. They could be here for some time. He resorted to spraying her hair.
“Hey! That was uncalled for!”
“I’m gonna tell mom you’re bullying me again.” He put the spray down and flashed her an eyebrow raise. She didn’t know why but she felt a blush cover her skin in that moment as he whispered almost intimidatingly close to her ear, “You missed a spot by the way.”
“What?! Where?” She jumped and he laughed out loud. Realising he had been kidding, she threw him a glare and the dishcloth. “If you’re not going to help you can get out of my kitchen.”
“Oh my god that was too easy! Seriously, Sarah, lighten up. It’s only gonna get messy again in a few hours.” He playfully attempted to grab the sponge from her hand but she held it aloft to one side out of his reach. He enjoyed messing with her. It was something he did when there wasn’t a lot else going on and she recognised this, fearing this was going to be the new norm for her now he was practically living here. She’d have to put the lock back on the bathroom door for sure. “Do you think you’ll be retiring to you bachelor pad anytime soon? Some of us have to get up early in the morning.”
His face lost its boyish glee in that moment and she felt like she had kicked a puppy. He picked the dishcloth back up and proceeded to dry a few plates, placing them in a neat pile to one side. He peeked at her from the corner of his eye.
“How about I repay you with beer and household chores?”
*
Next Chapter HERE
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proxyartsblog · 4 years
Text
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Fallout Equestria ( Country Roads)
By proxyart.
{The introduction}
(68 years after the mega spells)
(A group of Caravan ponies and a group of Talons sit around a campfire in the forest of  West Virgineigh in the shadow the the stable 76 ruins .  It's cold out and the two groups sit making small talk and trading stories. After a while a pony started to notice a odd member of the talon group)
A shy young blue unicorn spoke up , she had a soft timid voice. "um m..mr Griffin... how ... uh no um why is... your back legs different from the other Griffins?" Her ears dropped as he looked Over at her.
"I'm a hippogriff" said the smooth looking avian, he was quite pretty, with his lovely golden feathers and creamy tan coat , he spoke with a unique accent, something from the old world the blue unicorn thought.
"F..forgive me but a what?" She said with a puzzled shakey voice.
(He smiled and sat up.)
"A hippogriff my dear filly" the smooth voice said, he spoke like a pony, " you don't know do you? " he asked.
(The blue unicorn shook her head.)
" no sorry I'm not aware of Griffins or anything to do with the talons " she blushes brightly noticing them stare.
(The hippogriff's beak gives a friendly smile as he steps into the fire light.)
"My name is Apple Gin, and I am not a normal creature, no matter how you look at it, I'm the descend of a earth pony who throw out all odds service the mega spells and fell in love with a Griffin , from her and their love my mother was born , my mother was a miracle my grandfather said, a foal that shouldn't exist but somehow did."
(Apple Gin saw the curiosity growing in the eyes of the young filly.)
"You want to know more don't you? " he asked with a croaked smile.
(The blue unicorn nodded happily, no longer the shy blue filly she was , this girl got closer to hear every word he spoke. )
"Please tell me what happened?!" The filly gidded as she clopped her hoofs excitedly.
Apple Gin sighed and sat back on his haunches. " so you want to know the story of my ancestor the the legendary stable 76? "  he asked.
She smiled sweetly and nodded " yes!" She paused for a moment  "I mean yes please mr. Gin sir"
Apple Gin gave her a odd look and sighed happily, " Gin is fine... so where to start this story? ... it's a long one to tell "
(The blue pony thought for a moment then with a smile.)
"I got all night... better then dealing with them swamp crawlers or mega beasts... right Gin ?"
(Apple Gin smiled )
"Yes ma'am " he started to tell his grandmother's story.
"To tell this tale we must start off 25 years after the war... 25 years after the mega spells dropped and all of equestria was plunged Into Darkness".
(War ... war never changes.... )
[End holotape prologue. ]
☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♧♡♤☆◇♡♧♤☆
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[Chapter one] country roads.
[Memory orb holotape begin]
(A song started to play over the PA system of the stable, followed by a older mare's voice)
(A inebriated orange and creamy caramel colored earth pony falls out of her bed woken by the loudly playing music and that mare's voice, she looked around her stable room and realized it was very quiet, too quiet, there was a huge party just yesterday, and today was her 25th birthday, the day she was also supposed to leave the stable as well.)
"Shit... ouch my head, I swear one day I'll stop drinking " she always said it but she never has, after all she owed her cutie mark to alcohol, all the members of her father's family did, it was a family tradition and Apple whiskey wasn't going to be the pony to end a family tradition!
(She looked at goodmorning stable-tec window with its happy  little birds and smiling sun, the stable colt smiled back at her reminding her she was late. )
"Good morning stable 76, this is the Overmare , I hope you all enjoyed the party last night, even those who might have over overindulged and overslept. But it's time to get up and get out there, we've been locked away long enough."
(She listened to the Overmare speech as she brushed her teeth and combed her mane, it didn't do anything to help, her mane and tail was a knotted mess of curls and knots, she had tried to keep her hair nice but since mother died Whiskey had a hard time with managing it.)
"Stupid mane... ouch! How am I supposed to brush this mess if I'm not a unicorn!?" She yelled frustrated by her lack of magic or her mothers hair dresser bot.
(Her mother was a robotics engineer, the best in equestria or so others told her. The stable was full of the best and brightest members of equestria and many of the ponies onces worked for stable-tec or rob-co, some were doctors and musicians, others were bankers, scientist, farmers, painters, chefs and more, if they were the best they were in 76!, and the offspring, the children of the generation of genius ponies? Why they were told daily that they were going to save equestria... and the world, that day was today... and Apple wasn't running to the stable door like the others had.)
(A robot brought Apple whiskey her pipbuck, it had a big 76 Pip‑buck 2000 in blue and silver numbers on it with the ugly brown and tan pipbuck casing , Apple placed it on her fetlock and began to adjust to it's weight, Apple thought her pipbuck was very ugly and useless, all she ever used it for was the radio and keeping track of other ponies. )
"Stupid heavy thing..." said Apple.
"Oh miss Apple I thought you'd never wake up" said the floating mr. Handy.
(The over mare's voice pulsed for a moment or two then continued )
"Today is Reclamation day, I kn..."( the voice was drowned out for a bit.)
"What? Why? " Apple whiskey asked.
"Why its Reclamation day don't you remember? Most of the stable is already gone ." Said the robot.
"All ready gone?! But its only..." Apple looked at the time. " Half past noon! How could you let me over sleep so long!?" She started to ran to get her stuff packed .
( the Overmare's voice started again)
"It maybe time to leave but I'll always remember the day you all entered stable 76, you come from everywhere walk of life, every pony race, color and creed, but you all share one very important trait, you are equestrias best and brightest but more importantly you will always be my family."
(The broadcast ended)
"Wow Overmare ... I wonder if the old mare is still here? ... would make sense that the Overmare would be last to leave right?" Apple got all the things she wanted to take with her.
(Apple whiskey packed a large saddlebag with 5 bottles of purified water, 3 stem packs, 2 boxes of big-mac and cheese, 1 picture of her parents, a hoof pistol and a hoof full of bullets,  2 Med-X , 2 healing potions, 1 sparkle cola cherry and 4 bottles of her famous Apple whiskey and the recipe so no one else could make it .)
"Miss Apple you mustn't forget about you're camp " said the Mr handy.
"My camp? What is that? ... you mean my still bot? " Apple asked.
(The Mr. handy looked insulted by her calling that metal pot a robot)
"No miss apple not that busted excuse for bolts.... the camp unit is you're home away from home miss... " he handed her the rather small box .
"This is a camp?" She looked complex.
"You need a home base out there. The Construction and Assembly Mobile Platform is designed to give you one." Said the handy.
"So this will help me serve? Good to know... uh ok " Apple took the camp and stored it in her saddlebags.
"Wow it fits a lot... one day I'll learn how it carries all my junk..." she was impressed by the bags, she thought it had to be part of the stable-tec spell Matrix.
(Apple strapped the saddlebags to her back and holstered her pistol. )
"Ok looks like that's everything Handy...what will you do onces I'm gone?" She asked.
(The mr. Handy hovered around and brought her a tiny mr. handy statuette.)
"Miss Apple please take care of yourself... I'll be here , I must lock up the stable and once I do life support will be turned off... no living creature will be able to close the stable door." The handy said .
( Apple looked sad but she understood she would never seen the first friend she had again, tears fell down her pale caramel coat.)
"Good bye old friend " Apple gave the bot a quick nuzzle and a kind smile.
(Apple set out her room and into the corredores of the stable, the gray drury walls of the stable gave her a bit of comfort, she was very nervous about leaving, if it was up to Apple whiskey she would have stayed there until she died un old mare with many grand foals running through the many hall's. )
(As Apple walked past the Overmare's office she popped her head in to say goodbye however the office was completely empty of life.)
"Overmare!... eh? ... nuna?... " Apple walked around her desk and sat in the big chair, it smelled so nice , the smell of foal hood memories.
(The Overmare loved to let the foals play in her office while their parents worked their various jobs in the stable. Her happiness memories were learning how to be a Overmare from the only grandmother she would ever know. )
"Overmare... I guess I'll never get to say goodbye to her..." Apple saw that her terminal was still on, normally she wouldn't snoop but she was as rather nosy filly .
(Apple clicked her hoof to the keyboard and  ejected a holotape from the Overmare's office terminal)
"What in the seven?... a holotape? " she wondered if it was a goodbye from the Overmare.
"Overmare what could you be up to?" Apple noticed the holotape port in the side of her pipbuck, she put the holotape in .
(The holotape started to play)
"Overmare's log, or should I say, direct communication. Because whoever is listening to this had the moxy to try to find out where I've gone." It paused for a moment.
"But I'm glad you did. Truth is, I need your help. I've been given a task, and... I've decided to break protocol and tell you what it is. Because If there's one thing I've learned in these past few years, it's that we need to rely on each other." It paused for a moment.
"There were three active mega spell silos in Virgineigh before the Balefire Bombs fell. They blew up the Equestria before. We can't let it happen again. So we've got to locate and secure all of the silos, or die trying. Hopefully the former. Hmph." It paused for a moment.
"But it's been twenty-five years. I just don't know what we're going to find out there. Or where to start... My directive was to go to the nearest population center and assess the situation. I'll set up a C.A.M.P. on the way once I get my bearings. Find me there." The holotape stopped.
(Apple felt confused as she tried to figure out and take in all the information she just heard.  Apple wasn't exactly sure what she could do to help her but if the Overmare needed her she would try her best to find her and help... not because of Stable tec but for the only grandmother she had... the pony who called her family. )
"Looks like we are going out there after all..."  she thought to herself.
(Apple started to wake out when she stopped at the Overmare's bedroom door, she had took the time to make her bed and straighten her room, maybe she should have cleaned up her room before as well but she didn't want the handy bots to have nothing to do for all time.)
"Wow Overmare you really need to relax... hehehe " Apple said with a giggle.
(She smiled at the handy bots that met her at the hatch to the stable door.)
"Goodbye handys...  I wish you all the best, look after the stable for everypony. " Apple hugged the sliver handy bot.
"Goodbye miss apple, and we will look after your sill bot... even if we think it's a waste of technology and fermented grains." Said the mr. handy.
(Apple smiled, she whipped her eyes.)
"I'll miss all of you so much " Apple tried not to cry as she walked thought the stable entrance and stepped out into the world beyond .
[End of holotape chapter one.]
https://my.w.tt/JCjbulc9R5
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musehelping · 4 years
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hello, friends !! i believe it’s finally time to announce the surprise collaboration !! @ofmymuses and i are not only working on a character masterlist, but we are making them for muse inspiration for our brand new rp !! my half of the masterlist is premiering now, but her half should be arriving at some point today. @maskedfm​ is an appless slasher-themed rp following the lives of the rosefield residents as a possible copy cat killer strikes the victim of the first murders, gertrude green, and her daughter, georgie. with the original killer, identified to be gertrude’s ex-best friend, still locked up in prison, the new rosefield ripper can be anyone. so the question at hand is: how do you know who you can trust? we will be opening for apps in one hour, but i will answer any questions that come our way.
tl;dr: this character masterlist is a collaboration between amanda and i to help potential lurkers figure out any characters they might want to play in our new group !! however, it can also serve as stand-alone descriptions for any groups you might want to join !!
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Tessa Thompson:
Name: Evangeline Campbell
Age: Thirty-Six.
Major: Community College Professor.
MBTI: ENTJ.
Hogwarts: Ravenclaw.
Enneagram: 1w2. 
Astrology: Aquarius Sun-Capricorn Moon.
Evangeline Campbell is a professor at the community college in her county. On a regular basis, she has to deal with grades and complaints. As a result, Evangeline has developed a bit of a dismissive attitude towards any unfounded objections sent her way. However, she wasn’t initially that way.
When she was younger, Evangeline took a very eager interest in anything she could get her hands on. She loved learning and as a result, her grades were always sky high. She was incredibly fascinated by school and loved trying her best to attend it every single day. The only problem is that she feels as if she peaked around that time. Will her attitude towards her life’s current situation turn around for the better?
Ludovica Martino:
Name: Mia Lombardi.
Age: Twenty.
Major: Photography.
MBTI: ISFP.
Hogwarts: Hufflepuff.
Enneagram: 6w5.
Astrology: Scorpio Sun-Cancer Moon
Mia has never been the type to have massive aspirations for herself. All she has ever been concerned with is enjoying her life and creating memories along the way. This did not please her parents, nor did it satisfy her guidance counselor, who had Mia in her office nearly every weekday in Mia’s junior and senior years. 
After a solid year and a half of attempting to break through to her that college is a necessity, Mia was convinced after she was told that photography is a great way to save created memories forever. She’s a beginner in the field, but she loves every second of it. She doesn’t see herself getting a career in the field, but she doesn’t aspire to be well-known anyway. She’s just having fun, but her parents are starting to pressure her to look into internships. Will she be able to figure out the road ahead, before it’s too late?
Tori Kelly:
Name: Marisol Jones
Age: Twenty-Four.
Job: Local Radio DJ.
MBTI: ESFP.
Hogwarts: Gryffindor.
Enneagram: 7w8.
Astrology: Sagittarius Sun-Taurus Moon.
Marisol has always been a small town girl with big city aspirations. From a very young age, Marisol would constantly use her family’s video camera and would use it to record herself talking about the burdens of her daily life. In elementary school, Marisol often found herself getting in trouble for talking too much or vying to be the center of attention at any given moment. In her mind, she couldn’t help it. The need to be heard was just a part of who she was and being the loudest person in the room was the easiest way to get that need met.
She didn’t see much of an issue with her behavior until she was twenty-one. This was when her boyfriend of three years broke up with her over it. Instead of yelling at him and telling her off, which was her go-to conflict-resolution plan, she became deadly quiet. One night after dark, she snuck into the studio of a local radio station. Even though the station was normally playing elevator music after midnight, she broke the non-stop stream of boring music by deciding to play You Oughta Know by Alanis Morissette as revenge, letting any listeners know that this song was specifically dedicated to her boyfriend. The potheads and insomniacs loved it and soon enough, she was hired by the station to work as a DJ and commentator. Town citizens love her witty banter on the local station, but she wants more. Her ultimate dream is to move to Los Angeles and pursue a radio career there. Will her dream come true?
Carlson Young:
Name: Emilie Woods 
Age: Twenty-Six.
MBTI: ENFP.
Job: Party Planner.
Hogwarts: Hufflepuff.
Enneagram: 7w6. 
Astrology: Gemini Sun-Pisces Moon
As a child, Emilie was frequently sick. Her immune system has always been very weak, so if there was a sickness going around at school, there was a ninety-percent chance that she would catch it and would have to miss another week of classes. She rarely had other children her age to give her company and entertainment. As a result, she often had to make up her own games and activities for entertainment.
Her favorite activity was planning parties for her dolls and stuffed animals. She would make up birthdays for each of them and would plan out all the little details of their individual birthday parties. Her eyes would light up and she would become incredibly giddy when she was able to see her plans come to life, even though she was the only one who cared enough to see it happen.
As an adult, Emilie still has a weak immune system, but she takes extra measures to still go out and socialize, in spite of it. Her neighbors often comment that she has a larger than life personality. That kind of joy is only strengthened at her job, where she helps to plan anniversary parties, sweet sixteens, and weddings for people in her town. She has a boundary where she doesn’t allow others to touch her, especially if they’re ill. However, people often don’t think twice about breaking her boundaries, because they don’t think it’s as serious as it truly is. Will Emilie be able to stand up for herself and put her foot down?
Orion Carloto:
Name: Luna Costa.
Age: Twenty-One.
Major: History.
MBTI: ISTJ.
Hogwarts: Slytherin. 
Enneagram: 3w4.
Astrology: Virgo Sun-Gemini Moon.
Luna Costa was born and raised in New York City. With her parents both being workaholics, she learned how to be at the top of her game from a very early age. As she grew up, her ambitious streak stuck and she was to be within the top five percent of her class.  
That was before the Costa family moved to the suburbs. Luna was forced to make new friends, look at new schools, and get used to a completely unfamiliar environment. It’s been around four years since then and Luna has found herself stuck at a lower-tier college. However, she still dreams of one day owning a fabulous museum of her own. Will her ambitious streak pay off?
Josephine Langford:
Name: Hannah Bradford
Age: Twenty-One.
Major: Musical Theatre
MBTI: ENFJ.
Hogwarts: Hufflepuff.
Enneagram: 3w2.
Astrology: Libra Sun-Cancer Moon.
Hannah Bradford is an optimistic, sensitive soul. From a young age, she lived to make others smile, due to her antics. When she found out that a stage was the perfect place to do exactly that, she was hooked. From then on, she vowed to join any theatre program she could, including summer camps and school plays.
When high school came around, Hannah often received lead roles in most of the school productions. However, while she was trying to make everyone else happy, she was miserable. Her parents had separated in her last year of middle school and even though the two parents initially had equal custody, her father left the picture shortly after. 
After four solid years of anger, she entered community college with a brand new mindset. She wanted to be a positive influence on everyone she knew, including herself. She painted the walls of her bedroom yellow, decided to take in more sunlight, and wanted to surround herself with positivity, as she felt that this would help her complete her goal. That goal seemed to be on its way towards completion until it was suddenly halted by the death of her father. She found out through her grandmother and she instantly felt as if she was back at square one.
Since then, Hannah has been diagnosed with situational depression and is taking life one step at a time, without any added pressure. Will Hannah’s situation get any better?
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mobius-prime · 4 years
Text
176. Sonic the Hedgehog #108
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Oh… please, come on, man… not this…
Robotnik x 2 = Trouble!
Writer: Benny Lee Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray
So, did you think that perhaps for once in the history of comic books, that we'd actually seen a major villain die for good? Well, apparently not so! Eggman has detected the strange reality fluctuations caused by Knuckles several days ago, and gleefully demonstrates to the newly-roboticized Snively that one such fluctuation can be localized directly within their lab. What - or who - might this fluctuation affect, you ask?
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Just outside of Knothole, the Freedom Fighters are relaxing and playing a nice game of hide and seek, when Tails, who is "it," runs smack into Robotnik, looking battered and scared. They're all, of course, incredibly shocked at his reappearance, and skeptical when he claims that Eggman brought him back, but is even worse than he ever was. He ran for his life, wishing now to seek shelter in Knothole. The Freedom Fighters reluctantly bring him to the king and queen, who get him a checkup by Dr. Quack to ensure he's not merely a robotic duplicate, and then, despite his literal war crimes, just… allow him to stay in the village. With all the people he tortured and terrorized barely more than a year ago. Seriously, not even a trial for his crimes? Nothing?
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Robotnik seems to have settled right in, despite Sonic's obvious exasperation, and as the crew flies him to Robotropolis he eagerly speaks about perhaps becoming allies after all this is over, while they mostly ignore him in favor of playing cards. They infiltrate the city and fight a cursory number of shadow-bot guards, and Robotnik leads them to a room with a suspiciously-shaped "computer," inviting them to stand on a platform in the center of it and have Nicole take some readings while he accesses the mainframe. Of course, this is when he shows his true colors, and traps them in an energy field that harnesses the power of Eggman's "matter fluctuator" while the two alternate-universe villains giggle with each other, ecstatic that their plan to erase their enemies seems to be working.
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The Freedom Fighters reveal that they knew Robotnik was trying to trick them all along, and only played along so that he would lead them straight to the device that brought him back so they could destroy it. He's baffled by this since he's already been brought, and as he and Eggman begin to fistfight over the failure of their plot the Freedom Fighters leave, satisfied that their job is done. Their true intentions become clear very quickly, as due to Robotnik's manner of return, his molecules were very unstable, and in the middle of the fight he vanishes back into oblivion, causing Eggman to punch Snively accidentally and then become furious at his loss once again.
This story basically ended up going nowhere, as Robotnik really, truly is gone for good this time, but I suspect it was mostly written as a lead-in to the two character files we'll be perusing today - one on the original Robotnik, and the other on Eggman, AKA Robo-Robotnik. We'll be skipping the explanations of their life stories, as we already know all of it - no new information is provided - and instead we'll look at the technical details. First of all are their height and weight. These details are identical for both entities, as they come from near-identical backgrounds in their respective zones. Their height is 189 cm or 6'2", which is only one inch taller than their game counterpart. However, their weight is where we run into a bit of a problem. Given all the tasteless jokes made especially in the early days of the comic about how fat and humongous and gargantuan Robotnik is, how heavy exactly would you imagine he is? I bet you didn't guess 61.7 kg or 135.8 lbs. That is not just an absurdly low weight for a being of his stature, that is my own weight. I'm pretty sure this is just a big oversight on the part of the writer, because there's no way in hell an obese six-foot-tall man shares his weight with an average-height, average-build girl in her early 20s. For Eggman, however, though I'm sure he shared his body type with Robotnik when he existed within his own zone, those stats are likely to be a bit different now due to his being a robot in a new body and all.
As far as their ages, this is where they differ significantly. They shared their early history in their respective zones, so both were born on the same birthday of September 10. However, the original Robotnik died at age 45, almost 46, when the Ultimate Annihilator went off. I include "almost 46" because the character file actually gives an exact date of death, June 13, meaning we now know to the day exactly when Endgame occurred. Endgame played out over the course of three days, so that whole shebang started on June 11, which was also the day Sally supposedly died before the truth was revealed. Please keep this date in mind, it will become important in a few issues. Eggman's reality, on the other hand, diverged a few years before Endgame, resulting in his own roboticization at the age of 43. At this point, his physical age likely "froze" since he was no longer bound by the aging process of flesh and blood, while his mental age continued to progress. His zone's timeline has already surpassed that of Mobius Prime, as in that zone Sonic and Sally were married with children, so mentally he'd more likely be somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties. Makes sense to me, though original Robotnik was certainly a little younger than I had imagined him to be.
"…A Girl Named Hope!"
Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: J. Axer Colors: Josh & Aimee Ray
Sally has received a letter from Hope Kintobor, who was taken along to Station Square with the rest of the refugees, and decides to bring it to her parents to read it out to them. Hope proves herself to be a very well-spoken young girl in the letter, writing about how when she and her people first landed on the outskirts of Robotropolis and she saw Sonic, she thought he looked scary, as she'd never seen a Mobian before. However, over the course of living in the city, she began to mistrust her uncle after seeing more evidence of his roboticization of Mobians, and eventually realized that the Mobians were better than she had been led to believe after witnessing them rescue both their roboticized brethren and the rest of the Overlanders.
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She describes how most of her life in space, ever since she was two years old, was spent in cryosleep, learning about the history of their home planet, including the details of the Great War between her people and the Mobians. They only ended up returning because their ship's power supply began to fail, but now, she no longer feels at home amongst her people, with the loss of her stepfather and grandmother.
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This is honestly a very sweet story, and I'm glad we'll be seeing more of Hope. She was definitely the most interesting character among the Overlanders, and she's obviously a very observant and intelligent girl.
Reunification (Part 3)
Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Dawn Best Colors: J&A Ray
Lara-Le is not at all happy about Knuckles' decision to join up with the Legion, even scolding him for what his father will likely think when he finds out. Knuckles becomes defensive and asks her why they can't just hear him out first, and she replies that she thinks he's too much of a threat to her children.
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Wow, Lara-Le, you and Wynmacher have been pretty busy then, huh? That's a pretty big gap between your kids' ages there - Knuckles is gonna be seventeen by the time that baby is born, assuming that Mobian echidnas have a similar gestational period to humans. While he and his mother continue to discuss matters, Dimitri goes before the council to argue his case for reuniting echidna society. Most of the members present have obvious misgivings, but one Mitre agrees that society should come back together instead of fighting, though he expresses some disapproval of Dimitri's methods through such extensive cybernetics. While they continue to argue things out, Lara-Su waits outside Lara-Le's apartment, waiting for Knuckles to come out so she can spy on him and ensure he's not killed. He exits, and she follows him to the council chambers, witnessing him talk briefly with Lien-Da on the steps outside the building. She recognizes Lien-Da as "the one person Mom absolutely refuses to talk about." The two go inside, and Knuckles steps forward to express his reluctant support for Dimitri, commanding the respect of those present since they know he's fought with Dimitri many times before. Interestingly, the current echidna government is referred to as "the theocracy" in contrast to Dimitri's "technocracy" - elements of an echidna religion have been hinted at here and there, such as Lara-Le praying in the Aurorium, and the councilor all the way back when Dimitri first "died" quoting from what sounded like some kind of bible, but I think this is the first indication we've ever had that the current government is literally a theocracy, running according to a religious tradition instead of an intellectual one. This puts an interesting - and even more worrying - spin on the whole "banning technology" thing, as real life has shown time and again that religious fundamentalism almost always leads to hypocrisy and needlessly-restricted personal freedoms, which honestly fits exactly with everything that we've seen over the echidnas' history so far. But anyway, while Knuckles says his piece about trying to work together and resolve differences, Lara-Su tries to badger her way into the council chambers, only to be stopped by a guard.
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What a cliffhanger! I'm sure there's no way she's interpreting the situation wrong due to not seeing everything that's happened up to this point, right? Right?
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theworkofxanderking · 4 years
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The Hunter Diaries
Volume One
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Warnings: I do not own the original content to “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries” or “Legacies” or any of the characters from the television shows.
15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.
Dear Diary,
It had been well over a year since I had last returned to Mystic Falls, a year since I had buried my mother and father. I had hoped my next return would be under happier circumstances and judging by my last visit the bar wasn’t exactly raised high but somehow Mystic Falls has dragged me once more for a different kind of tragedy this time regarding my twin sister Elena’s love life.
Since my fifteenth birthday I have spent my days mostly in isolation hunting my next kill and wondering if I’d survive to see another year go by.
I am now 17 years old and not only returning to my hometown but returning to Mystic Falls High all in the name of my sister who has found herself dating a vampire luckily for her not that she knows it but her brother just so happens to be a hunter.
My name is Hunter Gilbert, and this is my story.
Episode One: Love Thy Sister
Hunter had got into Mystic Falls late on Sunday night only to fall asleep even later after being debriefed by his aunt Jenna Sommers about the vampire Stefan Salvatore who his sister Elena was dating and his wayward brother Damon Salvatore.
Hunter came from a family of special hunters from his father Grayson’s side however he married a reformed hunter called Miranda and the two would often clash about Hunter’s family legacy but once Hunter was told of his lineage he wasted no time in dropping out of high school preferring anything other than that not knowing by leaving school at fifteen he would initially never see his parents alive again.
Miranda’s sister Jenna was also a reformed hunter or at least she was until a vampire began dating her niece, a niece of which was seemingly kept in the dark by it all much to Hunter’s curiosity. He had many suspicions as to why his parents kept their legacy from Elena but didn’t get time to test them and decided after losing his mum and dad keeping his sister in the dark was the best way to protect her.
So, between late arrival and later debriefing Hunter was working on little to no hours when he faced his hardest mission yet on that Monday morning, mission: high school.
“So, I expect your aunt has filled you in on Elena’s boyfriend?” Bonnie asked Hunter as she met him walking down the busy high school corridors. “He seems really nice but I’m not sure there’s just something off and wait till you meet his brother Damon.”
“I don’t know what was wrong with the last one.” Hunter replied to her. “Matt Donovan was a real sweetheart.”
“She’s not been seeing him in well over a year and besides he went to go stay with his estranged father after his mum went to rehab.” Bonnie explained as they continued their walk down the corridors. “He seems to like it there.”
“What is Caroline making of this guy then?” Hunter asked her.
“You’re seriously out of the loop Hunter,” Bonnie laughed. “Caroline left Mystic Falls about six months ago when her mum former sheriff Liz Forbes got that major promotion in San Francisco. She’s living the city life now and loving every second of it.”
“I don’t exactly blame her Mystic Falls was never somewhere I intended to be returning to anytime soon.” Hunter admitted to his friend as they both spotted Elena walking into the corridors hand in hand with Stefan.
“So, what made you drop out of private school and come back?” Bonnie wondered as the answer to her question, Stefan Salvatore, walked over to greet them with Elena by his side the couple’s hands tightly gripped to each other’s.
“You must be the twin brother I’ve heard so much about.” Stefan said to Hunter before looking over at Bonnie with a smile. “Hi Bonnie.”
“And you must be my sister’s boyfriend,” Hunter said with a false smile. “It’s so nice to finally put a name to the face.”
After a long day at school Bonnie Bennett walked home from school with her best friend Elena, walking down the streets of Mystic Falls as they headed in the directions of Elena’s home and Bonnie’s grams’ home.
Bonnie often went to her grams after school as her father worked a lot and her mother had left them when she was just a child. Bonnie loved heading to her grams’ after school and enjoyed all the time the two of them shared together often preferring her grams’ home to that of her own’s.
Despite her grams being her mother’s mother, she was nothing like Bonnie’s mum Abby.  Sheila Bennett was a family orientated woman who adored spending time with her granddaughter Bonnie when she wasn’t teaching at Whitmore College working there as a Professor of Occult Studies and after Abby walked out on Bonnie she refused to utter her name making it clear to Bonnie and her father she’d never stop being her grandmother.
Sheila’s love for her granddaughter was as deep as Bonnie’s love for her grandmother.
“Was it just me or was Hunter you know just a little bit off with Stefan?” Elena asked Bonnie on their walk home that day.
“He’s only just met the guy give him a few days and I’m sure he’ll be as friendly with this one as he was with the last.” Bonnie reassured her.
“Yeah I suppose your right Hunter just seems a little less like himself these days although considering I’ve only seen him once in the last two years, I can’t exactly presume who himself is.” Elena said with a sigh. “It’s just we used to be so close and now it’s like I don’t know if he even likes me never mind does, he like my boyfriend.”
“Elena your looking into everything far too much,” Bonnie laughed. “He only got back yesterday and got thrown back into school today give the guy a break.”
“Yeah I suppose your right I’m just overthinking and over worrying like usual.” Elena said as the two of them stopped outside of Sheila Bennet’s home. “It’s just I’ve not seen him since the funeral and even then, he didn’t say much. I’m just petrified when he does speak, he’s going to admit he blames me for surviving when my parents never.”
“Elena nobody except yourself would ever think like that.” Bonnie told her as she placed her hand on her shoulder. “Cars crash every day and lives are lost that doesn’t make your parents’ deaths any less tragic but in no way at all does it make it your fault.”
“You’re right Bonnie Bennett you’re always right.” Elena said with a sad sigh. “I’m just so afraid of losing him Hunter and Aunt Jenna are the only family I’ve got left.”
“Your brother loves you,” Bonnie said while hugging her friend. “And I love you and neither of us are going anywhere.”
“I love you too.” Elena replied with a soft smile as the two of them broke off their hug. “Are you sure you can’t go to Tyler Lockwood’s party tonight?”
“No offence but partying with deuchebag Tyler and his deuchebag friends hardly seems like a good time.” Bonnie answered. “It also doesn’t sound like something Elena Gilbert would find a good time either.”
“Yeah I know but Hunter and he were friends before he went to private school and Hunter’s going so that means Stefan and I are going.” Elena confessed.
“See now stalking your twin brother sounds much more like you.” Bonnie laughed.
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“What do you mean I’m a witch Grams?” Bonnie asked her grandmother while the two of them sat on the couch in Sheila’s living room.
“You’re not just any witch Bonnie, you’re a Bennett you come from a lineage of some of the most powerful witches in history.” Sheila explained to her granddaughter. “Your father never wanted me to tell you this, but I figured when you were old enough to understand it was my duty to tell you who you are.”
“Grams you can’t be serious, you can’t be, can’t you?” Bonnie wondered equally confused and intrigued by her grandmother’s words as Sheila stood up from the couch and wandered out her living room. “Grams.”
“This book was given to me when I was about your age,” Shelia said as she walked back into the room holding an ancient looking book. “Consider it somewhat of an introduction to your own craft.”
“I really don’t understand Grams,” Bonnie replied as her grandmother handed over her first grimoire. “I’m not even sure I believe in any of this.”
“That’s okay it’s good to be skeptical Bonnie being skeptical will be the key to surviving in this wicked world.” Sheila explain as she sat back down next to her granddaughter. “A darkness has come to Mystic Falls so believe me when I say be skeptical of everyone.”
Hunter was reluctant to go to a party in the woods for more than one reason: he wasn’t use to socializing anymore so much so that it had became a chore to him, playing the normal high school teen at Mystic Falls had drained him and most importantly the party itself was organised by Tyler Lockwood.
Hunter and Tyler had a complicated history going back years as the two of them alongside Elena’s ex Matt were all childhood friends and grew up together alongside Elena, Bonnie and Caroline but Hunter and Tyler became a little too close not long before Hunter left Mystic Falls and was Hunter’s biggest reason for not being too excited about returning.
Hunter knew a forest full of drunk teens was the perfect playing ground for any vampire so the luxury of not attending was one he didn’t have.
“Look we don’t even have to stay long just long enough to show face say our hellos and then head back home if you’re not having anything fun.” Elena explained to Hunter as the two walked through the woods of Mystic Falls. “Getting back to normal includes high school parties, parties that you used to enjoy once.”
“A lot of things have changed since those days Elena but if you want me to get drunk and party till morning then that’s what we’ll do just remember I’m doing this purely for you.” Hunter replied as the continued walking through the woods. “Why is Bonnie not with us tonight?”
“She never sacrifices time with her grams.” Elena responded as the two could see the witches house from a distance. “If this turns out to be such a miss we’ll go over and keep them both company.”
“Don’t tell me the party’s in there I’m so not ready for a party in that ratchet ass house.” Hunter moaned as he stopped in his tracks. “That’s just asking for trouble.”
“Since when did I become the responsible twin?” Elena asked jokingly. “Not to be morbid but the owners of that place are too dead to phone the cops on us.”
“You’re right,” Hunter laughed before the hairs on his neck began to stand up as he felt a gust of wind from behind.
He quickly turned around with force kicking the air until his foot hit the face of Stefan knocking the Salvatore vampire to the ground before Hunter quickly placed his boot on Stefan’s neck.
“Hunter! What the hell has got into you?” Elena screamed at him. “Let him go!”
Hunter looked down at Stefan keeping his foot firmly on the vampire’s neck as he considering taking the stake out of his jacket and ramming it into Stefan’s chest right there but he knew when the time came to kill the Salvatore vampire he couldn’t have any witnesses and after a moment’s contemplation removed his foot off Stefan’s neck.
“Sorry,” Hunter replied as he held out his hand and helped Stefan to his feet. “I guess the dark, the woods and the haunted house got me a little jumpy.”
“It’s okay,” Stefan said with a suspicious smile. “Elena mentioned you had a particular fear of things that go bump in the night.”
“I’m so sorry Stefan,” Elena said as she rushed over to Stefan and gave him a hug.
“I wouldn’t call it a fear of things that go bump in the night I’m more cautious than scared.” Hunter retorted. “Now are we going to party or not?”
“Yes,” Elena responded with a smile to Hunter while continuing to hold Stefan. “Just no more hitting my boyfriend please.”
“I’ll try my best.” Hunter falsely promised with a fake smile that made Stefan grow more suspicious about their little altercation.
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Hunter spent the entire night within the abandoned witches house pretending to drink beer after beer while secretly tossing the beer when nobody was looking only to spy on his sister Elena with his target Stefan Salvatore in what was once a living room part of somebody’s home which was now filled with a group of teens partying in its decay dishonoring it’s memory with disco lights and wireless speakers blaring the popular music at the time.
He suddenly began hearing whispers from the hallway that grabbed his attention through all the noise making him walk into the darkly lit hallway leaving Elena with her vampire boyfriend in the process as he continued to walk down the hallway of the witches house the whispering growing louder as he neared the basement door.
“Well if it isn’t Hunter Gilbert long time no see.” Tyler said as he walked into the hallway holding a beer bottle and demanding Hunter’s attention. “I never thought I’d see you at another party after you left Mystic Falls.”
“Tyler Lockwood, I had wondered when I was going to bump into you.” Hunter replied as he turned to face his former friend. “How are things?”
“You mean in the last two years since you went total ghost mode on me.” Tyler responded clearly hurt by his friend’s recent absence. “You don’t text you don’t call I can’t help but think you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Reception’s kind of a bitch at the school I was at.” Hunter lied. “Before long I gave up even trying.”
“You’ve been back two days,” Tyler said before taking a drink from his beer and walking towards Hunter. “Look Hunter I don’t want things to be weird between us you’re the only friend I’ve got left here from the old days.”
“Yeah this place is becoming a bit more of a ghost town lately,” Hunter replied with a sincere smile. “For what it’s worth I think I can handle being your friend at least while I’m in Mystic Falls.”
“Wait I thought you transferred here?” Tyler asked him. “Don’t tell me your planning on leaving already, Elena will be gutted. I’ll be gutted.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m in a rush to leave anytime soon but I do see more boarding school in my future.” Hunter explained.
“Hopefully not.” Tyler responded with a soft and sincere smile. “Mystic Falls hasn’t been the same without you.”
Stefan walked out of the witch’s house to find Hunter drinking a beer while sitting on the large doorstep noticing how his girlfriend’s twin brother was looking into space while lost in thought.
“Call me observant but my count that’s the first drink that’s you’ve not thrown away.” Stefan said as he sat down next to Hunter.
“Nah I’d jump straight to stalker although stalkers tend to be very observant.” Hunter replied as he took a drink from his beer.
“It must be hard being back for the first time since your parents’ funeral.” Stefan responded as he took Hunter’s beer and took a drink from it. “Especially considering your back to kill your sister’s boyfriend.”
“I guess you’re smarter than the average vampire,” Hunter said while in shock by Stefan’s words. “Either that or I’m seriously of my game.”
“I know you probably won’t believe me when I say this but I’m not here to hurt anyone least of all your sister.” Stefan told him while taking another sip of Hunter’s drink before beginning to cough.
“Yeah you’re right I don’t believe you.” Hunter admitted as he rose to his feet while Stefan began choking before passing out. “I’ve never been too big a fan of the taste of Vervain, but it sure does the trick.”
Hunter pulled out the wooden stake from inside his jacket while looking down at the vampire he had just outsmarted but before he had a chance to plunge the stake into Stefan Salvatore’s chest he feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up once again before turning around to see Damon now standing in front of him.
“Hello Elena’s brother,” Damon said with a sinister smirk before grabbing Hunter’s neck and snapping it instantly causing a lifeless Hunter to fall to the ground his body landing next to an unconscious Stefan. “Goodbye Elena’s brother.”
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Elena awoke the next morning in her bedroom after heading home early the previous night due to her boyfriend and her brother’s joint disappearance awaking to a knock on the door as she sat up in her bed.
“Hunter, don’t tell me you’re the one waking up before me this time.” Elena laughed. “Or else I really am going to have to play the are you my brother card?”
“Actually, it’s me,” Bonnie said as she opened the bedroom door. “I’ve had a bit of a strange night and needed to tell you all about it.”
“It can’t be as strange as being ditched by both your brother and your boyfriend in the same night.” Elena replied as she motioned for Bonnie to sit down next to her. “So, go on tell me what’s on your mind Bonnie.”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.” Bonnie warned her as she sat down next to her friend.
“Bonnie we’re all a little crazy,” Elena responded with another laugh. “You’re the sanest person I know and there’s nothing you could tell me that would convince me otherwise.”
“I’m a witch,” Bonnie admitted. “Or at least my Grams thinks I’m a witch and I sort of believe her.”
“Well that’s definitely a shocking turn of events.” Elena said in shock before Bonnie took a pillow from her and began ripping feathers of the pillow.
“Just watch.” Bonnie told her before chanting in Croatian.
Suddenly the feathers from the pillow began floating in the air forming a circle much to Elena’s amazement.
“Bonnie that’s amazing,” Elena responded with a smile. “What else can you do?”
Stefan stood deep within the woods of Mystic Falls standing in front of a recently covered grave patiently waiting until a hand come out of the grave a hand with the Gilbert ring on full display before Hunter pulled himself out of his grave coughing up dirt.
“I had a feeling no Gilbert hunter would go into any mission without a Gilbert ring.” Stefan said as Hunter gasped for air and rose to his feet. “Naming one of their children Hunter was a bit on the nose but hey not my family not my decision.”
“What the bloody hell do you want?” Hunter asked while struggling for air in-between coughing up the dirt that had recently buried him.
“A chance to talk and I’m guessing you’re more willing after meeting my brother.” Stefan replied.
“You have five minutes.” Hunter said as he came face to face with the kinder of the two Salvatore brothers.
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noisyquokka · 5 years
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🏳‍🌈 Pride Month 2019 🏳‍🌈
So, pride month has recently ended and I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting lately. I wasn’t going to post about how my pride month went, but I thought about it and who knows... maybe it will help someone else who needs it? This will probably be long, so I’ll start under the cut.
I officially came out as Bisexual in 2017, but I had been unofficially Bi since middle school - towards the end of 6th grade I’d say - I was closeted for 6 years. The first person I had opened up to about my sexuality was my best friend at the time. I still consider her a good friend although we aren’t as close as we once were, but she was someone I knew I could trust with such a thing. Even then, I was terrified to speak up about it. 
The first member of my family I had told before my parents was my grandmother. I had no idea how she’d react, although I knew she was a very open-minded woman. We always had deep conversations late at night, and I remember after spending a nice late summer day with her, I had told her. “It’s your life, remember that. Anyone who doesn’t respect that can deal with it themselves.” She had said as she held my hands. She’s the only grandmother I have left and she’s still so supportive.
My mom has always been open and supportive towards me so I knew I had no reason to wait to tell her. One day I just blurted it out. “Okay, I support you.” she’d said and I smiled. But the one I was most terrified of coming out to was my Father. 
I’ve always had a rough relationship with my dad. From a young age, I was “Daddy’s girl”. I wore my dresses and my hair was always braided like a princess, I was a girly girl. As I grew up, I started wearing more edgy clothes and did more “boyish things”. My Dad is also a very hard-headed person. He grew up in a religious home, had strict parents, the whole ten yards. I also knew his attitude towards the topic of LGBTQ+ which was more negative than positive, at least to me. The funny thing is I wasn’t really worried about coming out to him until this year (2019). When the New Year had come and gone, I was just a college student, struggling to get up in the morning and get to my classes. I hadn’t even thought about “oh shit, I still haven’t come out to Dad!”. And as May was sneaking up and my birthday was getting closer and closer, I thought what am I going to do. Almost 19 years old, I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, yet all those worries washed away the day my birthday had come. Dad cracking jokes, mom and I rolling our eyes but laughing anyway; I felt elated in that moment. Hell, I even let complete strangers sing “Happy Birthday” to me just because my dad wanted to. Anyone who knows me knows I’m a very shy person, I hate any added attention on me unless I ask for it myself, but that day felt like something special. Even if it was like any other birthday.
I almost told him that day. Seriously, I almost just blurted it out. Just thinking of how that night could’ve possibly ended gives me chills. Instead, I just drove the 4 hours back to PA that Sunday. There were a few times that I would call him or text him and just about tell him on a whim. Maybe this is the time to add he had a new(ish) relationship, he had found a woman that made him happy as can be, and he still is as happy as ever. I hadn’t met her much at this point so things were odd. I cared that my father was happy, in a healthy relationship. I’d never seen my parents happy in their relationship, even from a young age, so this was all very new to me. And then I finally decided to move back to New York to be with my parents again, changed up the college experience, it was time to relax a bit. Or not? I spent more time with my dad and his girlfriend, Kathy. The weekends had become our time. Whether we’d take a drive to the flea market, spend time at the cemetery, or just hang at their house, we enjoyed ourselves. Kathy was a ray of sunshine from the beginning, an absolute breath of fresh air! I could see it in the way my dad looked at her, she made him so happy. And that was all I could ever ask for.
Then Father’s Day came. We spent the early part of the day at a car museum, something Kathy and I knew my dad would enjoy. It was almost like my birthday all over again; jokes were made, Kathy and I rolled our eyes but laughed, we ogled at the different hood ornaments and talked about how good we’d look in that old silver blue 64′ Stingray sitting in the main lobby of the museum. And on the way home I felt as if I should say something. Just spit it out! But I didn’t want to ruin his Father’s Day. Even more reason to say nothing when we stopped by the cemetery on our way home. Standing in front of his parent’s graves, my grandparents, I looked up at him and watched a tear slip from his eye.
“This is the best Father’s Day I’ve ever had.”
And well, I couldn’t say anything now! It wouldn’t have looked too pretty anyway, all three of us were crying and group hugging. I just couldn’t say anything then. I was glad he had an amazing day with us though.
Then June 22nd came. I had gotten a call from my Dad asking if I wanted to go watch the sunset with them at the park, to which I said yeah. Today was the day. I was going to come out to my Dad and Kathy. After all, Kathy had already been in his life for 4 months and she was someone I grew to trust in a short amount of time. I was very comfortable around her. As we all set up our lawn chairs and covered up in blankets, I was wondering when the best time would be. Should I say something now? No, there are too many people around now. This park is popular to watch the sunset, so naturally, a lot of people were sitting and taking photos of the sun setting. I figured I’d do it after they dropped me off and they were getting ready to go home. After all the hoopla of the sun going down, people started to leave and it got a bit cooler. I��d forgotten the other blanket in the car so my Father went to grab it. That was when I mentioned to Kathy I had something to tell them. When I’d stated it had to do with my sexuality, part of me felt relieved to hear her say “Just tell him, he loves you for you.” God, I almost burst into tears right then! But I held my emotions as my Dad came back with the other blanket. Fast forward to us getting kicked out of the park because the park sheriff had already given one warning (oops) and driving back to my house, it was finally time to speak up. I was so nervous that I used the bathroom as an excuse, my stomach was doing flips. Little did I realize, Kathy was giving my Dad a pep talk before I said anything. I hadn’t calmed down in the least, but I knew I couldn’t until I told him, so I walked out to the Dining area. 
“Dad, I have to tell you something.” I couldn’t go back now, I wasn’t going to lie to him any longer. I had to say it.
“I’m Bisexual.”
Finally, after being closeted from my Dad for basically 8 years, I told him. This is me. This is who I am, and while he was a little confused about how I could know I was Bisexual when I’d never been with a girl, he accepted it. He accepted me for me. And our night ended pretty well, sitting out back watching the stars and meteors in the sky, genuinely enjoying ourselves.
I don’t know why it took me so long to come out to my parents. I know that I didn’t have to make a big deal out of my sexuality. After all, it’s my life and no one else's. But I also didn’t want to find someone who I end up really falling in love with and hiding the relationship just because of their gender. I also didn’t want added drama if for some reason I showed up to a family get together with a girlfriend who everyone would expect to be named Kyle. All jokes aside, I wanted my parents to know who I genuinely am, whether or not this is a big thing or just a silly little thing to them. And I’m glad that I can officially say I’m Bi. I like everyone, no matter their gender or how they identify! Because love is love, and love is an amazing thing. So I hope everyone had a beautiful Pride Month and even if you haven’t come out yet, it’s ok. Take as much time as you need! You might have that “oh shit!” moment like I did, but sometimes the people you think are going to reject you end up surprising you with the greatest amount of love and support you could ask for 💛 You’ve got this. You’re amazing. You’re you 💕
I have to add a big thank you (inexplicably big, you have no idea) to my best friend @janarine who helped me find the courage to come out to my Father (and made me cry because I’m a sappy little bitch) We might be miles apart, but you have no idea how much your support and love helped me! I love you lots 😭💕
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asapncah · 5 years
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hello  my  sweet  darling  angels  .  it  is  me  ,  lenny  ,  and  i  am  quite  truiy  holding  back  tears  as  i  write  this  because  i  don’t  think  i’ve  ever  missed  anything  as  much  as  i  have  missed  moreau  ...  anyways  !  enough  rambling  lenny  ,  get  to  the  true  queen  here  :  noah  .  below  the  cut  is  my  Novel™️  about  my  dear  noella  de  luca  ,  otherwise  known  as  my  favourite  muse  ever  .  if  you  like  what  you  see  down  below  ,  just  LIKE  this  post  or  hmu  and  we  can  create  magic  !
˗ˏˋ ✧ ariana grande • twenty-three • cisfemale . look ! it's noella de luca from apartment 4B ! apparently , she moved into moreau apartments 1 year ago and is a waitress . rumor has it, they can be quite possessive — good thing they’re also adventurous , hey ? i hear they’re known as the hedonist of the building . 
↘︎ 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕔𝕤 !
given name : noella sofie de luca
nicknames : noah, no
age : twenty3
birthdate : march 18, 1995
hometown : keremeos, british columbia
occupation : waitress & dog walker
↘︎ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 !
so i will be trying to sum up noah’s history in a few bullet points here , cause ya girl tends to ramble far too much , but if you’d like to dive a lil deeper , you can check out the bio that i wrote for her right here !
so her parents separated when noah was quite young but they remained close friends and business partners of the campground they purchased and renovated in their 20s
willa remained in their cozy home in keremeos to primarily raise noah and handle the financial end of things while antonio permanently moved onto the campground as a year-round mangager
noah visited her father practically ever other weekend, mastering the wilderness and reenacting snow white scenes 
there is honestly no big sob story here. she had a wonderful childhood filled with chasing butterflies, jumping in leaf piles, cuddling with her pets, and laughing with her parents
keremeos will always be her home, but by the time she was 20, noah yearned to escape the confines of her small town. her wanderlust was an itch that no amount of trips to the mountains could scratch, so she set her sights on something bigger: europe
with the help of her parents, noah saved up for the trip of a lifetime, which she embarked on shortly before her 21st birthday and didn’t return from for many months
though she ventured all across the european countryside, much of her trip was spent in italy as she reconnected with her roots and fell in love with the country, particularly florence and pisa
she paid her dues working in a small italian cafe in florence owned by an adorable old woman that reminded her of her own grandmother, and noah made italy her home for many weeks, only returning home due to missing her parents and a dwindling bank account
↘︎ 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕥 !
vancouver became her home shortly after her 22nd birthday, a handful of months after she returned from europe. after experiencing the foreign continent’s beauty, keremeos felt small and stifling to her. the small town held no feeling of intrigue or adventure anymore so she made the big move to vancouver in the hopes of finding something more
the big city held a sort of vibrance for her, having visited a handful of times with her mother for big shopping trips and weekend getaways, and somehow the small town girl melted into the big city easily
she moved into moreau apartments upon finding a listing in the newspaper and honestly has never been happier
due to her absolute inability to sit still and be bored, noah works 3 jobs in vancouver : waitress, dog walker, and pole dance instructor
waitress : she serves in an adorable, cozy local restaurant down granville street close to the apartment building, mostly working morning or late night shifts
dog walker : to fuel her love for animals, noah’s gained a reputation in the neighbourhood as one of the most reliable dog walkers. you can often catch her with a small herd of hounds at any time of day, handling the tangling leashes like a pro
pole dance instructor : she found a studio shortly after her move to vancouver, wanting a physical and creative outlet for herself. she fell in love with pole dancing after going outside of her comfort zone and mastered the skill quickly, promptly bringing the owner to offer her a part time job instructing a beginner’s class on the weekends
↘︎ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 !
aesthetics : freshly picked peaches. crisp mountain air. old denim ripped and stained from wild adventures. perfectly painted nails. thriving house plants. the scent of fresh coffee and sweet lotion. journals inked with stories and rhymes. rose gold jewelry. caramel waves blowing in the wind. hazy rooms and endless laughter.
notable traits : passionate, possessive, adventurous, charming, optimistic, honest, naive, self-indulgent, reckless
best described as a freshly blossomed rose, grown in the canadian wilderness and weathered by the elements, with blushing petals beautiful enough to draw you in and thorns sharp enough to protect herself.
willa and antonio raised their daughter to have a strong head on her shoulders. their independence, wild hearts, and honesty passed down to noah easily. she’s certainly her father’s daughter in terms of her curiosity, need for adventure, and determination, but her mother shines through noah’s feminist independence, brutal honesty, and passion for creativity.
in terms of how noah’s young experiences changed her constant state of wonderment as a child, she’s definitely grown tougher and carries herself with an obvious sense of responsibility to protect herself. she likes to believe the walls she’s built to protect herself while exploring a foreign country stand strong and tall, but she often falls prey to charming smiles, trusting words, and careful eyes — it’s something she’s constantly working on, always chastising herself whenever she falls too easily
at first sight, she’s a small girl with a big mouth. her personality purposefully magnified to hide the fact that she’s afraid of getting attached. her sailor’s mouth is a surprise to most, along with her openness with her sexuality and honesty when it comes to just about anything she has a strong opinion on ( feminism, equal rights, lgbtq+ issues, animal cruelty, etC )
but for better or for worse, noah generally prides herself for having hardly a care in the world. many of her days just go with the flow and she’s not worried about her future — the future is today, as she likes to say to convince her friends to join her on one of her many adventures
one of the greatest friends one could ask for because of her strong loyalty, charming smile, generosity, and taste for adventure ( it also helps that, thanks to her green thumb, this one grows the best weed in moreau ajklsh ) she distracts others from developing too much curiosity about her own story by being an incredibly good listener and shoulder to cry on
↘︎ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 !
this was a rollar coaster and a half. i know. i’m sorry. akjlshd please love me i rlly tried to not let it get out of hand
tl;dr : small town girl from the mountains, raised by two loving, separate parents, who found her freedom and passion for life in europe before moving to vancouver to keep that spark alive. works 3 jobs to keep herself busy and because she just can’t make her mind on what she wants to do ( waitress, dog walker, pole dancing instructor ) she will fight anyone who crosses her or her friends, much to the surprise of most, and genuinely tries to find the best in everyone. 
first things that come to mind when thinking of noah : peaches, house plants ( wink wink ) , fluffy dogs and purring cats, creamy iced coffee, leather bound journals, and a lust for adventure.
as for connections, i want them aLL but i listed a few right here for y’all to check out. if any of those catch your eye / you’re down to brainstorm, hmu through tumblr ims / discord or like this and i’ll come to you!!!
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obsidianarchives · 5 years
Text
The Dragon Leather Jacket
Blaise Zabini was glad to get out of the castle, but was annoyed it had to be alone. He hadn't cared much for Valentine's Day years before, despite the loads of chocolate frogs that ended up in his bag. Even this year, two second year Slytherin girls sent him cards that projected a magical ballet they thought he’d like and he'd cooly refrained from sinking into the floor at the embarrassment when he’d opened them in the Great Hall that morning.
But while Valentine's wasn't his thing, a certain Hufflepuff girl was. He'd tried asking her to spend the day with him — only to be rejected. The resulting discontent was a feeling only she could give him, as he’d learned when she rejected him for the Yule Ball last year. She'd said it was because he had some growing to do, and he knew he did, but that didn't make it smart any less. Something about Desiree Warbeck’s insistence that he could rise above the stereotype of his house was both annoying — and really attractive.
He hadn't even wanted to spend the day with her as a Valentine's date, that was just a convenient coincidence. Her birthday was coming up and he knew her sweet tooth probably couldn't resist a private basement reservation at Madam Puddifoot’s (he'd never be caught dead eating in the general seating area) or a trip to the balcony in Honeydukes where they sold their most expensive chocolates. But he'd asked her at the end of last BSU meeting and she'd said no. She claimed it was because her friends had something planned for her birthday, but he suspected she just wasn't ready. Which really meant he wasn't ready.
He was trying. People like Umbridge made it easier for him to see the flaws in his upbringing when she not only recruited people like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle for her Inquisitorial Squad, but used that group to try to bust up his club just based on the color of their skin. Blaise didn't fight for much, but the BSU had come to mean more to him than he really knew how to express. Come for them and get on his shit list. But Des had caught Blaise smirking at a joke Malfoy had made about the Creevey brothers — Malfoy had done a decent mouse impression, okay? — and she’d refused him her weekly meeting cookies for two weeks.
So Blaise wandered Hogsmeade alone. He tried not to hang with Malfoy’s crowd much anymore, not least of which because Malfoy and Parkinson just started hooking up and he didn't feel like gagging while Crabbe and Goyle pigged out on the chocolate frogs they’d “stolen” from him that morning. (He let them have the chocolate. He’d considered giving them to Desiree, but knew it wouldn’t help his cause to give her chocolates given to him by other girls.) The rest of the BSU had either paired up or squared up and Blaise wasn't in the mood to be anyone's third or fifth wheel. It was times like these that he almost regretted not having more friends. However, a quick look around at the students laughing obnoxiously as they walked out of Zonko’s made him figure it was definitely for the best.
All he could think about was Desiree, wondering where she was, what she would do if he randomly showed up where she was, and how to figure out just how to...do that. It was cold outside, though, and he didn't want to just wander alone. It looked pathetic. So he shook off his stalker inclinations and looked at the shops on his left and his right. His choices were Zonko’s and Gladrags. He typically owl ordered his joke products on the occasion he found some whimsy, to avoid stepping in that madhouse, so he gladly chose Gladrags.
It was quiet inside. Being a shop on the high-end side, not too many Hogwarts students frequented it. Some of the Slytherin well to do and families like the Abbotts frequented, but he knew he'd never spot a Weasley in here.
Blaise didn't buy much for himself. His mother sent him whatever he needed and a few extravagances he usually didn't even ask for, but were the result of whatever dalliances she was working to profit from (and then eventually end). So as he looked around the shop, he found himself looking at the ladies wear, imagining each item on Desiree's curvy form. With her grandmother being a world famous songstress, she didn't want for much either, but he couldn't recall her in a Gladrags original. Her style was practical, with classic silhouettes, and neutral color palettes, but usually with a pop of color. He also knew she liked to wear cutesy dressing gowns (last year’s end of lessons BSU slumber party told him that) and that she liked to bake. Maybe an apron? He went over to the house-wears, but nothing called to him.
“Need any help?” The shopkeeper, a small mousy woman with wide eyes and a nervous manner approached. “Ah, Mr. Zabini. How are you? How is your mother liking that yeti’s fur stole she purchased?” Blaise bit his lip, not wanting to admit the stole disappeared with husband number five. “She's doing well.” He kept it curt, never interested in enduring meaningless small talk.
“Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Uh, just a gift.”
“For? A special someone perhaps?” The shopkeeper wiggled her very thin eyebrows.
Blaise hated this. It's why he so often owl ordered. But he was stuck on a gift and Desiree would find it hilarious that he had endured what he joked was his boggart: small talk. “It's for a friend. A girl.”
The shop worker’s already large eyes lit up. “Oh, we have a special new makeup collection just in time for a late Valentine's gift!“ She grabbed Blaise by the arm and led him to a display near the front of the shop. “These foundations change their shimmer with the wearer’s mood,” she said, holding up a palette of pale foundation.
Blaise looked at the palette, and the surrounding equally pale mixtures and vials, and looked at the woman. He knew what he wanted to say, but imagined Des as an angel on his shoulder, telling him to be nice to the woman, he said, “That wouldn’t work. Her skin’s about my complexion.”
“Ah,” said the shopkeeper shortly, gingerly putting down the foundation and moving away from the display, looking around the room for where to drag Blaise next.
Blaise turned his head, his eyes falling on a section across the store. It was almost like someone had cast a Lumos charm on a jacket at the far end of the room. He headed straight for it, leaving the shopkeeper to keep up behind him. The jacket was black dragon leather, with a hint of gold shimmer. It was cropped short and had gold swirling embellishments on the collar. It was perfect.
“Oh, I'm not sure this would be of any interest to an acquaintance of a family of your caliber. It’s from a new designer we’ve been trying to work with. But they’re Muggle-born, so their style is a bit…eccentric.”
Blaise smirked. Yeah, it would be perfect for Desiree. “I’ll take it.”
“Sir, it’s going to be 100 galleons.”
“That’s fine,” he said, waving one hand dismissively while the other fingered the collar of the jacket. It was softer than it appeared and he could see the gold shimmer highlighting the yellow-toned brown of Desiree’s skin.
Blaise left Gladrags deciding he’d done enough lonely wandering for the day and started to head back towards the castle. But before he did, he felt the day couldn’t go without a bit of chocolate. He stepped into Honeydukes and got a chocolate frog to slip into the jacket pocket, a little surprise for later.
——
Desiree Warbeck regretted lying to Blaise. She’d said her friends wanted to do something for her birthday, but really they were just stalking the boys they had very distant crushes on. They were older recent Hogwarts grads who were working at nearby shops, so she was just flitting from store to store with them as they giggled over Grown Wizards. Desiree loved a good giggle over a boy, but the boy she wanted to giggle over sometimes ran with the wrong crowd and she couldn’t be with him if he maintained the same beliefs they did. So she’d shut him down when he’d asked her to hang out today and she wasn’t even having a good time without him. Rubbish.
She thought she’d seen him along the path as they all walked down to the village, but then she kept imagining she was seeing him everywhere she went with her friends. She knew he owl-ordered nearly everything, so there was no way he’d gone in Scrivenshaft's. He didn’t even like their quills. When she profoundly started to ache at his absence, she decided to call it a day and leave her twittering friends to their stalking, heading back to the castle to hole up in the kitchens with the house elves and begin her baking-to-get-her-mind-off-boys ritual.
Four hours later, she’d baked enough cookies to feed an army. I was really trying not to think about Blaise, wow, she thought, realizing with that thought that she’d already lost the game. In front of her were dozens of cookies she’d made without even using magic.
“Ms. Desi, what are you going to do with all these cookies?” asked Dobby, who was always the least fearful of the house elves and liked talking to Desiree and asking her questions. The rest just let her do whatever she wanted and kind of left her alone.
“I’m not sure Dobby. I can take a few to tomorrow’s BSU meeting, but the rest…I definitely can’t eat all those cookies,” she said with a laugh.
“Should we decorate them for the Valentimes Day and give them out?” Dobby could never get the name of the holiday quite right.
“That’s a great idea, Dobby!” With a snap of his thin fingers, dozens of Desiree’s cookies had pink and white frosting in the shape of hearts. Desiree liked experimenting with decorating spells herself, but house elf magic was second to none. She insisted Dobby eat one and he nibbled at one before slipping it into his little apron pocket. Desiree wondered if house elves had very different taste buds because he just didn’t seem to enjoy it and she knew her cookies were good. After thanking him, she grabbed her tin of BSU cookies, and headed out the door.
Just as she was climbing out the portrait hole, she bumped into someone and nearly dropped the cookie tin. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh!” she said again when she realized it was the very boy she was trying to avoid thinking about all day. “Blaise, what…what are you doing down here?”
He looked startled at having run into her, and she noticed him move his hand, which held a package, behind his back. It took him a minute to speak and Desiree flashed back to when he’d asked her to the Yule Ball last year. He hadn’t even been this nervous asking her out for her birthday.
“I was looking for you,” he said finally. Then…nothing.
“So why do you look so shocked to see me?” She arched an eyebrow at him which, from the way he continued to stare at her, she realized didn’t help put him back on his guard.
“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’ve been looking for you since before dinner and I just realized I hadn’t thought of what to say when I actually found you…”
He motioned for her to walk with him and they headed to a little nook under the staircase leading to the Great Hall. There was a ledge and he invited her to sit.
“I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I got you something in Hogsmeade today.”
“Oh Blaise, you didn’t have to get me anything.” She smiled softly, though, at knowing he’d been thinking about her all day too.
“I know, but I saw it and couldn’t walk away without getting it for you.”
He placed the package in her lap. She opened it, finding the black dragon leather jacket, the light gold glimmering softly at her. Her mouth dropped open.
“Blaise, I can’t accept this, it’s too much. Literally. This had to cost a fortune.” But she couldn’t help but stare at the jacket, finally putting her hands on the soft leather.
“You know that’s not an issue,” he said, sitting next to her, vanishing the wrapping with his wand to let her hold the jacket in her hands. “And look, it’s perfect for you. You once told me you wished your Hufflepuff came with a little more ‘badass,’ so…here you go.”
Desiree felt like her heart was growing four sizes in her chest, and it already took up way too much space. She clutched the jacket to her chest, squeezing it as she forced the incoming tears back into her eyes. She refused to cry in front of this boy! But not only had he been thinking about her today, he’d listened to something she’d said off-hand months ago, maybe even last year.
She looked at the boy to her right. The boy who was a Slytherin (which wasn’t a bad thing), dormed with members of the Inquisitorial Squad (which wasn’t his fault), and had some regressive views about Muggles and Muggle-borns (which she’d refused to tolerate). But she thought, from their BSU meetings and personal conversations, he was working on that last one. And here he was. His usual stony face more open than she ever saw it in public. The faint flush on his chiseled cheekbones a very brown distraction from the thought that had been niggling in her mind for a minute. Which was...
“Wait, did you…go to a store for this?”
Blaise laughed, a full blown cackle, which she’d definitely never seen him do before, and she couldn’t help herself. She kissed him on the cheek.
He stopped laughing, his breath caught in his throat. Desiree smirked and stood.
“Thank you, Blaise. I love it. I’ll have to save it for just the right occasion. Maybe you’ll even be there to see me wear it.”
She winked and walked away towards the Hufflepuff common room, with an extra sashay in her step. Her grandmother, the great Celestina Warbeck, had always told her to  “always leave ‘em wanting more.”
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sleepyfantasy · 5 years
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Miracles in December: Sehun
AN: Hi, I have been meaning to write more of these since last year but here I am in the same position as last year, trying to get one done before Midnight Mass and actually doing worse lol. Sorry. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy. (And just so you know Y/N/N is not a weird typo, it means your neice’s name. A bit of a cop out, sorry.)
Edited: AN: Sorry for the messing around but I wanted to have something posted before Christmas. This post now contains the FULL STORY. I have a couple more of these planned for between now and New Year. Let’s hope I actually get them done and don’t procrastinate as hard as I did before this one. 
Summary: You take your niece for a walk and find her an unexpected play date.
Others in series: Xiumin, Lay, Chanyeol, Kai
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Your niece had been getting on everyone’s nerves as you were all trying to tidy up after Christmas dinner. She love love loved each of her presents... for a maximum of half an hour. You knew she would go back to playing with them all tomorrow, but the Christmas magic had her too excited to do anything for any length of time.
Her grandmother had been trying to get her to come for a walk with her to get her out of everyone’s hair for a while, but as today’s favourite family member, she insisted on you coming with her instead.
You planned to take her out to the nearby square. There weren’t any parks nearby, but you figured the square would be mostly empty and have enough of a covering of snow for her to play in to keep her happy for a little while. Leaving her mum in charge of wrangling the excitable child into as many layers as possible to keep her warm in the snow, you searched the house for the supplies you needed.
Once you had everything in your bag and she was wrapped up so much she could barely bend her limbs, you headed out into the cold. You held one of her tiny gloved hands in your own, keeping her next to you as you crossed empty roads covered in snow. It was necessary to hold onto her because she was so hyper that you worried she would just take off in a direction and you didn’t fancy taking chase, although you also wanted to keep a grip on her in case she slipped on the snow.
Entering the square, you found you were very wrong when you thought it would be empty. There were men scattered around the square, all looking out for someone. This meant that several of them looked up when they heard you enter the square, but quickly looked away when they saw you weren’t the one they were waiting for.
Trying to find an empty-ish spot that hadn’t been trampled too much, you walked around to the other side of the fountain. You noticed a perfect place for what you had in mind, only to be pulled away from it by your tiny niece yanking you in the other direction, back towards the fountain where there was a young man with blonde hair staring down at the ground, a bouquet of flowers in one hand hanging at his side.
Obviously, you were strong enough to pull your niece back, but you didn’t want to hurt her. Instead you found yourself just following her as you spoke quickly, trying, unsuccessfully, to convince her to go towards the spot you had found. “Y/N/N-ie, why don’t we go over there. There’s some lovely crisp snow that’s not been trampled too much. I was thinking we could build a snowman. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
She was having none of it.
“Pretty flowers,” she said, reaching out for the flowers the man was holding, and making him look up from the patch of floor he had been glaring at.
His expression softened immediately when he saw your adorable little niece smiling up at him.
Now that she had stopped pulling you and was just reaching out for the flowers, you picked her up, sitting her on your hip.
“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you told him, bowing your head slightly.
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Reaching into the bouquet, he plucked one of the pink roses out of it, snapping off part of the stem, making it much shorter, and checked there were no thorns left. He reached forward, looking at you for permission, and after a nod from you, he placed it behind your niece’s ear. The way that her hair was up in bunches helped it stay in place as she looked up at him in awe.
You knew that look.
You may have been the favourite family member for the day, but this man had just become her favourite person for the day.
“What do you say, Y/N/N-ie?” you asked her.
“Thank you, Ajeossi,” she said, suddenly shy and hiding her face against you, tickling your nose a bit with the flower.
He laughed. “I’m not an ajeossi! Please call me Sehun.”
“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself. When you looked down at your niece and she was still being shy, you introduced her too. “This is my niece, Y/N/N.”
“How old is she?”
He had directed the question towards you, but this was one of her favourite questions. A combination of her birthday having been relatively recently and her learning her numbers at school meant that any time this was asked, and often when it wasn’t, she would proudly tell anyone who would listen, “I’m five,” holding up the right number of fingers exactly as she did just then, almost falling out of your arms in the process.
Sehun pretended to be impressed. “Five? Wow!” He held up five fingers to match her and she took the opportunity to give him a high five, again almost falling out of your arms.
You decided she might be safer if you put her down. As soon as you placed her down on the ground, she started pulling on Sehun’s trousers. Automatically, you reached to stop her, but he shook his head, mouthing, “It’s okay.”
“Come play with us!” your niece insisted.
“Y/N/N-ie, ask nicely,” you nagged.
For a five year old, she was very good at rolling her eyes. “Sehun-oppa, please come play with us?”
He looked around the square, presumably looking for the person he was waiting for. When he saw no sign of them, he knelt down and asked her, “What do you want to play?”
You had forgotten how quickly the little girl could move until in one swift movement she bent down and threw snow in his face. “Snowball fight!” she shouted, starting to run away before you caught her and picked her up again.
“I am so so sorry,” you told Sehun as he wiped the snow from his eyes.
“Don’t be,” he said, laughing. Then he patted your niece on the head. “Maybe we can have a snowball fight next time it snows.”
“For now, how about you and I build a snowman,” you suggested, “and leave Sehun-oppa to what he was doing?”
“No!” she crossed her arms and pouted.
After looking around again, he said, “I like building snowmen. Can I join in?”
The pout instantly disappeared.
“Yeah!”
She wriggled her way out of your arms and as soon as she made it to the ground, she reached up and grabbed Sehun’s hand, pulling him along to the area you had spotted before with the good snow.
Once they got there, Sehun having to bend at an awkward angle due to their height difference, she paused. “How do you make a snowman?”
You couldn’t help but take pictures of how happy your niece was as Sehun started explaining how to make a snowman, while helping her do it, especially with how cute she looked with that flower still tucked behind her ear.
When you were distracted, sending some of them to your sister, you were suddenly hit directly on the top of your head by a snowball. Narrowing your eyes at the two of them, you saw each of them pointing to the other, as if telling you ‘they did it’.
Although there was no question in your mind who did it, your niece not being able to form a proper snowball, much less aim that well from a few metres away, you still ran to her and picked her up in your arms, tickling her. “Did you do that? Did you throw a snowball at me?”
“No!” she protested through her giggles. “It was Sehun-oppa!”
You stopped. “Oh, was it.”
Kneeling down, you made a couple of snowballs and whispered in your nieces ear what to do.
She ran over to Sehun as you pretended to be aiming for her, shouting, “Save me, Oppa!”
He picked her up instinctively, as you had hoped and as soon as he did, you threw the snowball at him, just as your niece did as she was told and stuffed the other one down the back of his neck.
Although her almost dropped her, he managed to hold on enough to put her down safely.
“Right,” he said, “that’s it.” He started forming a huge snowball, benefiting from much larger hands than either of you.
Your niece ran to you again and you held her, turning your back on Sehun as you said, “We surrender, we surrender!”
“You’re only saying that because you know I would win a snowball fight,” he said, putting down his snowball.
“That’s part of it,” you conceded. “But also, it’s getting late so we need to get to work if we want to finish this snowman.”
By the looks of it, both Sehun and your niece had completely forgotten about the snowman , or rather, the two medium sized snowballs on the ground nearby ready to be turned into a snowman. Now that you had reminded them, they both went over to them again, starting to roll one snowball each.
Sehun’s grew much faster than your niece’s so when that was done, he helped with the other one. Then the two of them finally remembered you were there and asked you to help them lift the head onto the body.
As was always the case, it ended up having to be a little wonky to keep balanced, but you all decided that just gave it character.
Suddenly Sehun remembered, “How are we going to make the face?”
You laughed. “Have no fear. I came prepared.”
Out of your bag you pulled out a beret your sister had been given for Christmas last year which she hated, a carrot from the bag that had been bought for dinner and some large buttons from a coat of your mother’s that had worn out. “And I thought we could find some stones to make into a mouth.”
Your niece instantly started reaching to put the beret onto the snowman, almost knocking it over in the process, which would almost certainly cause a tantrum you didn’t fancy dealing with right now, so you had to swoop in and pick her up. This meant that you couldn’t check on Sehun as he suddenly walked away. She kept you busy as she kept trying to dress the snowman.
Only a few minutes later, Sehun rejoined the two of you and avoided eye contact with you as you tried to check on him, but he seemed okay as he helped your niece decorate the snowman.
When the snowman was finished, the three of you stepped back to admire it, giving you a chance to take a picture.
“Well done, Y/N/N! What should we call your new friend?”
“Sehun!” she called out.
“Yes?” he replied.
“No, silly!” she told him. “Sehun!” she pointed at the snowman.
“You want to name your snowman after Sehun-oppa? That’s nice.”
“I am honoured,” he said, performing an exaggerated bow.
A couple of seconds more of admiring the snowman later, she called out, “Can we make another one?”
“It’s getting late, Y/N/N-ie,” you said, almost giving in when she started with the puppy dog eyes but you held strong. “We’ve got to go back home. Mummy and Daddy and Grandma and Grandpa will be missing you otherwise.”
The pouty lip came out then. “But I want to play with Sehun-oppa!”
Before you could reply, she had turned to Sehun, pulling on his trousers again. “Can you come home with us, Sehun-oppa?”
You almost choked.
“Y/N/N-ie, Sehun-oppa is waiting for someone here and even if he wasn’t, I’m sure he has better things to be doing than coming over to your house, Sweetie.”
He cleared his throat, interrupting the pouting that was about to begin. “Actually, she texted me. She’s not coming. And I think I should at least walk you home, as it is late.”
“Yay!” your niece shouted, pulling Sehun back in the direction of her house.
This only lasted about a minute, however, before she let go of him and held her arms up to you. As soon as you picked her up, she snuggled into your arms and fell asleep, worn out from all the playing she’d been doing and probably crashing after the amount of sugar she had consumed throughout the day.
Once you were sure she was asleep, you asked Sehun, “Are you okay?”
He had been thinking as he walked silently alongside you and you startled him out of his thoughts with your question. “Yes,” he answered automatically. When he saw the look you were giving him, however, he reconsidered his reply. “Well. It’s complicated.” You were still looking at him like that. Making him elaborate. “I travel for work and I’ve been away for a while. A while longer than I was supposed to be. The girl I am…was seeing, was angry at me for staying away an extra week, especially because I missed a party she was throwing. We were supposed to meet today. I was going to meet her in the square with apology flowers.” He looked down at his hands briefly, as if surprised the flowers still weren’t there, before remembering that he had left them next to the snowman. “Then I was going to make a romantic Christmas lunch at mine and give her the other presents I got for her.”
“Wait,” you said. “Lunch? How long had you been standing there when we arrived?”
After thinking for a second, he replied, “Five hours-ish?”
You were amazed by his dedication. He stood out there waiting for her, and she didn’t even have the courtesy to show up to break up with him. She did it by text, nearly six hours after she was supposed to meet him. You were mad. Sehun had been so sweet with your niece, you couldn’t imagine anyone treating him like that and it made you so angry that she had.
“Y/N/N-ie was right. You should come with us. But I’ll drop her off at hers. My house is across the street. You need to get a warm drink in you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t go out of your way. I’m fine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did that come across as a request? It wasn’t. You’re coming over.”
He laughed for the first time since you had left the square, holding his hands up in defence. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m beat. Who knew someone could look so scary when holding a five-year-old?”
You laughed too. “Oh, I knew it. You should see my sister, her mum,” you inclined your head toward the sleeping child, “when her dad pisses her off.”
“I’m going to hope I never have to,” he replied.
“This is us, here,” you said as you arrived at your sister’s house.
Not having your key with you, you knocked, and the door opened almost immediately to reveal your sister on the other side. “I thought that might have happened by now,” she said, reaching to take your deeply slumbering niece from your arms.
She wasn’t sleeping as deeply as you thought, however, as when you said, “I’m going to head home,” she lifted her head slightly and sleepily called out,
“Sehun-oppa?”
“Yes, Y/N/N-ie?” he replied, stepping forward and surprising your sister who hadn’t noticed him before.
“You promise we can have a snowball fight next time it snows?” she asked.
He looked at you as he said, “Next time I’m in town and it snows, I promise.”
“Sleep well, Y/N/N-ie,” you told her, stroking her back gently before stepping back.
“Night. And night, Sehun-oppa.”
“Night, Y/N/N-ie,” he replied.
You pointed Sehun in the direction of your house and when he turned around, your sister whispered to you, “You need to tell me where you found him later.” Then she held out her little finger for you to link. You did so, promising, and then you strode out to catch up to Sehun.
Once you had got him warmed up with a hot drink, a hot water bottle and a warm blanket, you curled up on the other side of the sofa and got him to tell you the full story, which led on to you telling one of your stories, which led on to another of his, which led on… and so on, all night.
It was well into Boxing Day morning when the two of you realised the time and decided it was time for bed. It was too late for him to go home, so he slept on the sofa, meaning he was there in the morning when you woke up and the two of you started chatting again.
When it started snowing around mid-afternoon, Sehun ended up keeping his promise to your niece much sooner than anyone could have expected.
Walking home that night, he barely looked up from his phone, too caught up in talking to you even then and he thought to himself that possibly the most important event in his life so far had been being stood up on Christmas Day. 
Christmas Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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jerardeusebio · 6 years
Text
Memorare
I awake in the car to the sound of my mother’s voice telling me, gently, that we’ve arrived. Outside, I look: a sea of marble slabs etched with names—people who are gone and never to return, except maybe in dreams and in moments of sheer mind trickery. I awake to find that I’ve arrived—eyes closed—where things end.
My grandmother’s birthday is tomorrow; two days before today is my godmother’s. Both these women have been laid to rest here. After two decades of going and arriving here, the place where their bodies rested has become for my family, in more ways than one, our own resting place, too. I think of all this as I look at the towering monument that only now do I realize looks like hands in prayer. It reminds me to reflect.
The structure stands on top of a little hill and behind it a river flows. On the other side of it, hidden by a crop of ficus trees, are the tombs of the Aquino couple. Their space has always been with flowers, and there’s no reason why there wouldn’t be flowers there now. I couldn’t help but think that was a way for them, maybe someone, anyone, to resist being forgotten.
What I have always known is this: This vast place, these sprawling grounds, this patch of greenery in the city, after all, are for those who want and are in dire need of remembering. And we are many.
A late September breeze comes rushing toward me, and I watch in perfect calm as the leaves of an old myrtle tree sway with it, its blooms set fantastically against today’s cerulean sky.
A memory of my grandmother, in her last days, slips—so suddenly—into my consciousness. I embrace it: The skin of her face is drooping, her eyes are sunken. This is a completely different image from how I had seen her, scurrying, loud in the tiny kitchen she’d made her refuge. In all those years, she successfully hid from sight her broken heart. And in her last days, it seemed like that broken heart had been revealed to us, and her body, an empty shell, echoed that. And I wish my theory were true, that what doctors called dementia was just her spirit being unbound, finally untethered from her body of sorrows. But there would be moments when she would return to inhabit that shell, and she would utter the name of her husband, who was both her torturer and redeemer. And in these moments of return, at least the ones I had witnessed, I remember being besieged by a sense of salvation I could only identify as love.
I make sense of this memory. It feels like a concerted attempt to shake me awake, after the recent developments in my life. Maybe now it’s clear what this place was also for, apart from remembering. This is where whole lives are looked at, remembered, so as to make sense of them, because in the end what we’re given are only fragments of memory—a gift, a curse—the boon and bane of human consciousness.
One fragment of memory comes to me, again, suddenly. It is fresh. It is ripe. I feel my body quiver as I pull the image from my head: Three hands intertwined and intricate before my eyes, the many rivers of these palms meeting to form their own ocean.
The music from a military band comes within earshot. I am disturbed. I look behind me and see these men in uniform, marching, their brass instruments blaring and glistening under the heat of the late morning sun. An officer’s funeral, I assume. And this was music to let go to, music that will begin the remembering.
I glance around me, to read in haste what these marble slabs have been made to say. Name after name, I read and see proof of what we’ve convinced ourselves we should never forget, should always know—these names and how their present absence presumes their existence. My grandmother uttered a name, in her moments of return, and it looked and sounded like love.
Surrounded by these marble slabs crying out names—hundreds, thousands, countless names, I am reminded of just two, my two, and all at once it makes sense to me to be thinking of their names, as the sun continues to shine, as the band music reaches a crescendo, as the old myrtle continues to bloom against today’s cerulean sky.
Here, I arrive—eyes open—where my deliverance has just begun.
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