Teen Mom - Chapter Eleven
Title: Teen Mom
Summary: When Louis and Eleanor gave their baby up for adoption, they never expected the new parents to be two males. They also didn’t expect Louis to fall in love with one of them.
Word Count: 5,870
Connections to the Real World
The main themes in the novel are life and death, and the concept of immortality. The idea for the novel comes from the natural cycle of life; images and references of circles and wheels are made several times throughout the novel. As it is a children’s book, perhaps the author thought that there came a time in a child’s life, triggered by certain events, when they realize that they are mortal and will one day “go out” of the world. At this time, they might ponder the advantages of living forever. Tuck Everlasting spins the idea on its head and shows why it might not be such a good thing after all. The reader is never told what to think, or what might be morally correct, but the author seems to suggest that life should be meaningful, regardless of its length, and that it is important to live in the moment. The events in the novel do not occur in real life because they are impossible. However, when the story is stripped down to its basics – the idea of living longer, or trying to extend one’s life, and the lengths people will go to retain their youth – it is seemingly ubiquitous in modern society. Today there are countless products and procedures to keep people looking and feeling younger, and the number of these available continues to grow. Botox, collagen injections, anti-aging serums, anti-wrinkle creams, and plastic/cosmetic surgery are just some of the ways in which people try to stay young. So while the novel is in the fantasy genre, and set in the 1800s, the connection it has to real life is evident, and continues to stay relevant to the present day.
Empathize with a Character
Just before the climax of the novel, Mae hits the Man in the Yellow Suit in the back of the head with the end of a shotgun. It knocks him out unconscious, and eventually causes his death. It leads to her arrest, and, afterwards, death sentence, which endanger the Tucks as well as the secret of the spring. The Man in the Yellow Suit showed up unannounced at the Tuck’s home, with the intention of taking Winnie away and finding the spring.
He began by telling how he knew of their existence: his grandmother told him stories about her friend who married the eldest of two sons in an odd family. They had two children, a boy and a girl, and that was when the woman began noticing something peculiar about her husband and his family. She lived with him for twenty years and grew older, but he did not. People began suspecting they were a family of witches, or worse, so the woman left her changeless husband and lived with the Man in the Yellow Suit’s grandmother for some time, and she played with the children.
The family in the story was Miles’ and Mae was angry that the Man in the Yellow Suit was bringing back memories of regret and causing her son pain.
A long while after, the Man in the Yellow Suit bought his grandmother a music box which reminded her that the mother of the immortal family had a music box too. The children had remembered the tune and taught it to the grandmother, who had taught it to the Man, who kept it in his head ever since. He had finally heard the melody coming from the wood that day he stopped by the Foster’s home, and he followed it the next day, and overheard the Tucks story.
Mae felt partially responsible for their current situation, as it was her playing the music box that caught the Man’s attention in the first place.
The Man then went on to explain what he intended to do with the spring; he was going to sell the water for a very expensive price. He needed the Tucks to show him the location of the spring, and, if they liked, use them for demonstrations to prove that the water worked. He said they didn’t have to agree, but if they did, it would mean that they “could afford to live like people, instead of pigs.”
The Man and was selfishly going to cause chaos to the world if he revealed the secret of the spring. He also insulted the Tuck family and Mae was naturally offended.
The Man suddenly, and forcefully, dragged Winnie away from the Tucks, and that was when Mae grabbed the shotgun, telling him to leave her. He said he would use Winnie for demonstrations after making her drink from the fountain, and that was when Mae lifted the shotgun. Her face was dark red and her teeth were clenched; she said “[he wasn’t] going to do [anything] like that to Winnie” and that “[he wasn’t] going to give out the secret” before hitting him.
Mae was driven to violence to protect not only Winnie, whom she genuinely loved and cared for like her own daughter, but everyone else, by stopping the man who wanted to expose the spring’s – and the Tuck’s – secret and use it for his own gain. She panicked and was unsure of what to do, but her instincts and natural maternal character made her strike without stopping to think; her aim was to keep Winnie from harm and she achieved that through whichever means necessary. Though it was not the best option, many in that situation would have reacted the same way and it is apparent as to why.
O!AH (part A) (05/07)
Squats: Tempo (5-5-2)
I learned that if I want to deadlift more I can diy and put some damn kettlebells at the end of my bar. Works..kinda. Produces weird numbers but still.. *grin*
I’m gonna do some more after work.
You Really Got a Hold on Me - Chapter 20, part A
Title: You Really Got a Hold on Me - Chapter 20 part A
Pairing: John/Paul, George/Ringo
Summary: George mopes about, and John and Paul decide to end his bitter attitude.
Warnings: Swearing, references to tobacco, alcohol, and drugs
Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles, and I definitely don’t claim to. The Beatles would kill me if I actually owned them. So don’t worry, this is all made up, I promise.
A/N; Just kind of a filler chapter, honestly. Livejournal wouldn’t let me upload the whole thing, so I split it in two.
The following morning, George had indeed woken up with a terrible headache, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He had a terrible hangover from the drugs he’d previously used, regretting them just as much as Paul said he would. That morning he had been absolutely bitter to Ringo, snapping at every little word the drummer said to him. George really couldn’t help it too much; the combination of a brutal hangover with his fun for Ringo now being put to a sudden end had made him feel absolutely terrible.
Since George felt so horrible, he couldn’t help but take it all out on everyone. He was the quiet Beatle, which meant he didn’t speak too much in general, but when he spoke, his words were filled with anger and hate. Even Paul and John noticed the change in the younger lad’s attitude, avoiding his drug-filled rampages as much as possible. George smoked and drank much more than he should, and it was really taking a toll on him. His overall mood was absolutely terrible, and nobody wanted to be around him.
Ringo was doing his best to manage, immediately regretting his self harm over George as soon as he had done it. He regretted giving up George, and he wanted him back so badly that his heart and chest literally heart when he saw him. He noticed George was doing his best to avoid him, and, Ringo couldn’t blame him. He had been an ass to the younger lad, and Ringo felt he absolutely deserved how George was treating him. And sadly, he was pretty sure George didn’t even remember saving his life.
Paul groaned, rolling out of his bed and scratching his head. He accidentally nudged John as he got up and stretched out.
“Good morning,” John smiled and looked up at him, still in his bed and under the covers comfortably.
“Morning,” Paul muttered, smiling back at John sweetly. He really enjoyed John’s company, especially when he was being sweet like this. It made Paul realize that John was human, and that he was a caring, loving man like Paul wanted him to be.
“Want a cuppa?” Paul asked, looking at John and raising an eyebrow while awaiting his response.
“That’s be fantastic, luv,” John replied, still smiling sweetly. He sank back into the covers, closing his eyes and resting his head on his pillow.
Paul walked into the kitchen area of his hotel room. He had been in hotel rooms constantly for years now, and he was absolutely sick of it. Maybe it was time they stop touring. He knew everyone else in the band would agree, and even Mal and Neil would agree that they were becoming rather restless from constantly touring. Besides, you couldn’t even hear yourself play over those bloody birds screaming… It would be an absolutely perfect decision for everyone if they stopped touring. But it would hurt Brian so much, he really loved when they performed…
Whatever, Paul thought, shaking his head and reaching for a mug to make some coffee. Maybe he’d understand. I know he’ll be really hurt of we stop touring though, that’s his favorite part of being our manager. I’m sure he’ll understand eventually. All bands stop touring eventually, it’s not like we’re breaking up or anything…
But in his mind, Paul pushed back those thoughts, focusing on making John his coffee instead of thinking about the future. Paul knew that the Beatles were slowly drifting apart. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but everyone knew it. You could even see in Brian’s eyes that he felt the same way.
Paul walked back to John, bringing him his coffee. He handed it to John, forcing out a weak smile as he did so.
“What’s wrong, luv?” John asked, sitting up and grabbing the coffee from Paul. He patted a seat next to him on the bed for Paul, and Paul reluctantly sat down next to him.
“It’s nothing, really,” Paul sighed, looking down at his hands. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” John looked Paul in the eyes, and Paul couldn’t help but feel bad. He was giving him puppy-dog eyes, which was Paul’s signature move. Now John was using it against him…
“I don’t think we should tour anymore.”
John was silent for a moment, looking down at his own hands rather calmly before looking back up at Paul. “I agree.”
Paul’s eyes lit up. “You do?”
“Mhmm,” John nodded. “I feel like it would be best for us.”
“Mmm,” Paul bit his lip. “Especially with George and Ringo…”
“What the hell is up with them?” John suddenly questioned, raising his voice. “It’s been several months, and the two of them haven’t made up yet. It’s ridiculous. Have you seen any of them shagging any birds, either?” Paul laughed at John’s randomness.
“Ya know, Ringo has Mo, and George just married Pattie two months ago. So they’re obviously shagging them. But other than that… no, I really haven’t.”
“They obviously still want each other, and with George mopin’ around like that…”
“Ugh, we have to record today!” Paul cried out, hitting his forehead with his hand. “I don’t wanna deal with him!”
“Neither do I, but I guess that’s part of him being in our band, eh?”
“True, true. It’s just he’s so fucking annoying now! He and Ringo really need a good shag, eh? Guess their wives aren’t givin’ it to ‘em good enough.”
John laughed. “How come you aren’t married yet?” he asked, Paul turning his head away at the touchy subject.
Because I want to marry you, Paul thought, sending that thought to the back of his mind immediately.
“Dunno, just guess I haven’t found the right bird yet,” he lied.
“But you have Jane!” John laughed, nudging Paul in the shoulder playfully.
“And right now, she’s my best option.” Paul sighed. “I just want someone that really woos me, y’know?”
John’s heart skipped a beat at what Paul had just said, secretly thinking it was about himself. Of course Paul doesn’t want a bloody bird, he’s got me, he thought to himself smugly.
“True,” John said, breaking the awkward silence he had created. “Just don’t knock her up,” he chuckled lightly, referring to his situation with Cyn. If he hadn’t gotten Cyn pregnant, he would probably be in a much closer relationship with Paul right now.
Paul laughed half-heartedly, wishing John hadn’t brought Cyn up. He felt terrible doing this to John’s beloved wife, as he was very close with Cynthia himself. He felt like he was personally hurting and backstabbing Cyn whenever he and John made love, and he felt even worse for poor little Julian.
“What time is it?” John asked, too lazy to read the clock hanging on the wall, forcing Paul to do so for him.
“It’s about noon,” Paul laughed, reading the clock and realizing this was actually an early time to wake up for them.
“What time are we supposed to be at the studio?”
“About four, I guess. I think George wanted to record some more of his rubbish about things that our fans don’t even pay attention to anymore.”
John chuckled. “Well at least he doesn’t just write silly love songs like yerself, Macca.”
“I do not!” Paul defended himself. “I wrote-” he stopped to think of what he’d written recently that wasn’t a ballad. “I wrote Yesterday.”
“Psh! Yesterday is as much a love song as I am crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” Paul smiled sweetly, practically batting his eyelashes.
“Yeah, but I think Yesterday’s a fucking love song, dear.” John smirked.
“Fine, I uhm-” Paul closed his eyes and thought. “I wrote Eleanor Eigby.”
“I fucking helped ya with that one! Besides, we haven’t even recorded it yet, it hardly counts.”
“What about Drive My Car?”
“I guess that counts,” John sighed, feeling defeated. “Bet I pretty much helped ya with that one as well.”
“Well that’s part of being in the Lennon-McCartney duo,” Paul smirked.
“George fucking Harrison!” Paul muttered under his breath, hoping the actual George wouldn’t hear him.
“What about him?” John raised an eyebrow.
“Have you heard what he’s singin’ on about now?”
“I thought we approved of everythin’ goin’ on the album?” John looked slightly worried.
“We did, but he’s changed the lyrics or something. Have a listen.”
John obeyed Paul and could hear George practicing with his guitar, singing the lyrics to his latest song under his breath.
“Each day just goes so fast
I turn around - it’s past
You don’t get time to hang a sign on me
Love me while you can
Before I’m a dead old man
A lifetime is so short
A new one can’t be bought
But what you’ve got means such a lot to me
Make love all day long
Make love singing songs
There’s people standing round
Who screw you in the ground
They’ll fill you in with all their sins you’ll see
I’ll make love to you
If you want me to.”
“Is that about Rings?” John asked, raising his eyebrow in disgust at the younger lad.
“I think so,” Paul sighed, frowning slightly. “Love me while you can? Before I’m a dead old man? That sounds rather eerie to me, not sure I’d want someone singing those kinds of things to me.”
“Don’t even get me started on I’ll make love to you if you want me to.” John chuckled. “Not like Rings is doin’ any better though.”
“What do ya mean?”
“The only song we’re lettin’ him sing on this bloody LP is ‘Yellow Submarine!’ I’d go crazy if I were him.”
“Not like he writes anything.”
“Are you guys ready to record my song?” George asked, looking up from his acoustic and practically glaring at John and Paul simply for being happy.
George hadn’t been happy since his day on the beach with Ringo way back in 1965. He was an unhappy, hurting man, and he felt the only thing that could cure him were drugs, cigarettes, and alcohol. Besides Ringo, of course, but there was no way in hell Ringo was going to take him back after everything that had happened between the two of them.
Does he even remember I saved his life? George’s mind screamed daily every time he was the lad. Does he remember how he used to love me, cuddle me, cradle me, telling me that he fucking loved me? Bet that selfish son of a bitch doesn’t remember shit.
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” John muttered, being his usually serious self. “If it’s not a shit-record then yeah.”
“I think I’m going to add some fuzz bass to his, it’ll sound nice.”
“Wait,” Paul interrupted, suddenly realizing something. “I’m not playing anything on this one?”
“Not unless you want the tambourine.” George raised his eyebrows, awaiting a reply.
“I’m fine, I’ll stick to backup vocals, thank you very much.”
“And I’ll just stay off it completely,” John said, laughing at his own nonsense before Paul joined in as well.
“Well looks like Ringo’s playing the fucking tambourine then,” George mumbled angrily.
“Can’t play everything yourself, Harrison,” John nearly snapped back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re singing,- I’m guessing that’s multi-tracked, playing electric guitar, acoustic guitar, the fucking sitar, and now I guess fuzz bass. Would be a shame to add tambourine to that pile as well.”
George scoffed, walking out of the room and dragging Paul with him.
“Oh come on!” Paul cried, annoyed with George’s lack of humor. “It was a bloody joke, John makes them all the time.”
“But it’s not the same, Paul!” George cried, his eyes filling with tears instantly. “Don’t think it’ll ever be the same!”
“What do you mean?” Paul asked, suddenly caring deeply about the younger lad who used to be his best mate.
“Ever since then,” George sobbed, referring to last year with Ringo. “He ruined everything. He ruined the bloody Beatles.”
“Don’t say that,” Paul soothed, putting his arm around George for comfort. “The rest of us are just as responsible for the band being a little less close than we used to be. It’s not Ringo’s fault.”
“No, it’s mine!” George cried, wiping the tears he hadn’t cried since last year off with his sleeve. “I just wish everything could be the way it used to be. It’s my fucking fault, I shouldn’t have gotten mixed up with Ringo, I really shouldn’t have.”
“But now you’d be thinking what could have happened, and you’d be wondering what your life would be like. Aren’t you the one who’s always telling us that we need to look past ourselves and respect others just as much as the world around us?”
George smiled slightly at hearing Paul try to decipher his wise words. Half the time he didn’t even understand them, why should Paul?
“I guess you’re right,” George sighed. “I just wish I could be friends with the lad again. He and I were so close before all of this happened. And we ruined it all with a little kiss.”
Paul frowned, feeling his own heart sink at George’s words. “Don’t say that. You never know what would’ve happened if you two hadn’t kissed. Honestly, you guys would just be friends. Isn’t that a little boring compared to lovers?” Paul forced out a weak smile.
“But it’s better than not talking at all, Paul!” George cried, suddenly angry and being forced to yet more tears. It seems like he was always crying nowadays. “I miss him, I really do. I fucking love him, Paul!”
George walked away, sobbing heavily for all to see like he hadn’t in so long. He didn’t even care as John and Brian saw him heavily sobbing. Fuck the song, he thought, throwing away all his creative ideas for the day. I guess I’ll just sit on my ass in the bloody hotel room for another hour.
“What the hell’s wrong with him?” Ringo asked, appearing just as George walked by heavily sobbing.
“You should know!” Paul snapped, glaring at Ringo.
“What are you talking about?” Ringo defended, not even realizing how badly not talking to George was affecting the younger lad.
“You broke his bloody heart, ya git,” John said, smiling slyly without looking up from the guitar he was tuning.
“Oh shove off it!” Ringo cried, now actually looking a little upset. “That was months ago. It’s been nearly a year, the lad should learn to live a little. Find a nice gal and shag her for a change.”
Even though Ringo was speaking about George, his words cut into Paul like a razor blade, stabbing at his heart like pinpricks. “If you haven’t noticed, Rings, he’s married Pattie. And he still wants you. Just apologize already!”
“I’ve already tried, the lad won’t accept it!”
“That’s a load of bullshite, Ritchie, and you know it,” John suddenly spoke, looking up from his guitar for once to defend George. “At least say something to him, it won’t hurt.”
“He won’t accept it, I can pretty much guarantee that, John.”
“You never know unless ya try it, dearie,” John mocked in a feminine voice.
Ringo sighed heavily, turning away from his two bandmates. “Where do ya suppose he went to?”
Paul’s eyes lit up with relief. Ringo was actually making an effort to talk to George. “I think he’s in his room.”
“I better go find him then,” Ringo said, forcing a weak half-hearted smile and walking out of the studio to find George.
“Well that went better than I expected,” John chuckled.
Paul sighed. “Now we just have to hope that George is as willing to accept the apology as Ringo is to give it.”