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halothenthehorns · 1 year ago

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Chapter 10: I BREAK A FEW ROCKET SHIPS

Jeez, already half done and the quest only just now officially started. I can't get over how strangely short these books are.

PJOPJOPJO

"Zombies made you hungry?" Percy cracked a grin at her. "Really Rachel?"

"I've heard an awful lot about those magical fridges," she nodded seriously. "Show me around Perce?"

"There's not much to show," but he very reluctantly set the book back aside and agreed to show her out.

Thalia watched them go with a guilty sense of relief. She was well aware Annabeth used to be greatly jealous of Rachel, but they had recently made friends, and Percy had never looked twice at the frizzy redhead after he and Annabeth kissed under that lake.

No, it wasn't guilt her little sister's boyfriend was off smiling, reluctantly, but one that had been missing all morning with another girl.

It was guilty relief for Percy being gone for just a moment. Not pissed at her this time.

She didn't know what else she could do to help but hope Rachel eased the tension that hadn't left his face since he remembered Annabeth going over that cliff.

So distracted was she intently watching the door, ears trained for the slightest peep of unease that she might need to intervene if Percy lost it again and their Oracle needed a save, she didn't notice someone flopping down in Percy's abandoned seat until he spoke to her.

"You knew I didn't belong here too, didn't you?"

She dragged her eyes away from one pseudo pain in the butt little brother, to a blonde-haired, blue-eyed guy from California with a scar on his lip watching her with that same inquisitive face that asked every day why the sky was changing colors and when he could watch it happen again.

Halcyon Green was nuts, a mad old demigod out to torment them... She remembered how different her dad had been the second time he'd come around, more formal, and how Jason used Roman god's names so casually... it wasn't possible...

"Huh?" She asked, realizing he'd said something else.

"I asked if you were okay," he murmured gently. There was a wavering to the way he spoke now, his curiosity reigning in here most of the time, but occasionally like now still slipping into the stiff, confused tones of when he'd first come down here. He most definitely came across as a concerned leader asking after a prisoner of war right now.

"No," she admitted. "You're like a ghost to me," she put on a brave smile that didn't fool him one bit. "Don't worry about it. Yes, I suspected something was off about you, but it's so strange and unique. I can't fathom how you've survived so long on your own. Percy, well, the gods shouldn't have allowed you to be your age without you being at camp. It'll be explained later. Something about you is..." she couldn't finish, she didn't know how to articulate the insane possibility before her.

He looked disappointed, but not surprised.

"If Rachel has a gut feeling about you then I trust her," she waved vaguely to where Alex and Magnus were having another ASL study session. Annabeth's cousin whom she'd never mentioned, family whom she was never comfortable talking about. She was being foolish, Oceanus was to dense to have connected lost relatives together on anything more than an accident. "We'll figure out what your story is Jason, I promise the Hunters will search the corners of the globe to figure it out when we get out of here." Nobody should have to live like Percy was now.

"Thanks," he whispered, but there was no hint of relief in his troubled, stiff mouth. She swallowed as he kept watching her, as if still waiting for her to spill the rest of her secrets to this mirror of a stranger.

It wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible.

Beryl Grace had said he was dead...but she was a drunk who went crazy on her own beauty for catching the same god's attention twice...the very same god?

"You can stay," Thalia said firmly when Rachel and Percy came back eating ice cream cones. Will and Nico had gone back and forth too, though the Norse kids hadn't. They'd also been snacking the entire time they were here and hoarding food in all pockets of their clothes, so clearly that silent conversation had taken precedence this time. "Drag that beanbag over here, I don't bite."

Jason stalled, gave her a cautious smile, and then did exactly that as he dragged the woven cushion to her other side without unraveling a single seaweed from it.

Thalia's suspicions weren't soothed though, as something clicked into place when she turned a curious frown on the Son of Hades. 'You knew too'... Had Jason just been talking about Rachel? If Jason was the very same Jason back from the dead, could Nico have something to do with it? That boy was always off doing his own thing...if he knew something-

Alex laughed flamboyantly as always at the new chapter title Percy read. "One is never enough with you!"

"Break them how though?" Jason asked the real question while his scar wiggled at his twitching smile. "Over somebody's head? The security for yelling at you?"

"Can you set those on fire?" Magnus grinned along. "The one thing I would have thought would be safe from Percy's talent."

Thalia was to busy trying to muffle a laugh at the look on that Nemon Lion's face when Percy had thrown space food in its mouth to laugh along, but it wasn't exactly subtle. Nico wasn't going anywhere anymore than them, and Percy's distress was her priority right now.

"Oh, oo," Will started bouncing in his seat in excitement and Nico watched him with interest, "did you know Colin Cantwell designed the ships for both Star War's and A Space Odyssey! I hope they have a replica of one of his models in there!"

"They redid the Odyssey in space?" Nico asked blankly. Will's smile somehow got brighter every time he found out he got to show Nico something new.

"You see what I've had to go through," Percy waved at them while looking pleadingly at Rachel for some sanity to insist they don't linger on these silly things.

She merely smiled back, and said, "do you have any idea how expensive those are Percy? I'm so proud of you!"

"You're all hopeless," but he couldn't help laughing along too.

I tore across the Mall, not daring to look behind me. I burst into the Air and Space Museum and took off my invisibility cap once I was through the admissions area.

The main part of the museum was one huge room with rockets and airplanes hanging from the ceiling. Three levels of balconies curled around, so you could look at the exhibits from all different heights. The place wasn't crowded, just a few families and a couple of tour groups of kids, probably doing one of those holiday school trips. I wanted to yell at them all to leave, but I figured that would only get me arrested.

"Speaking from experience?" Rachel asked.

"I've never actually been arrested," Percy vaguely answered. Gabe had threatened to send him to juvie on more than one occasion, and that wasn't a threat he'd ever taken lightly.

"You could have just pulled the fire alarm," Magnus reminded, "always a surefire way to get people to evacuate."

"I wanted all those people to flee the state, they would just huddle around the building and get more people there," Percy huffed.

I had to find Thalia and Grover and the Hunters. Any minute, the skeleton dudes were going to invade the museum, and I didn't think they would settle for an audio tour.

"Not everyone shares the same hobbies," Will nodded seriously.

"Someone needs to tell Oceanus that," Percy grumbled.

I ran into Thalia—literally. I was barreling up the ramp to the top-floor balcony and slammed into her, knocking her into an Apollo space capsule.

"I bet your dad has a piece of himself there every day and brags to all the other gods about it," Nico grinned.

"I'm pretty sure he claimed once at least half of NASA were descendants of his," Will agreed.

Grover yelped in surprise.

Before I could regain my balance, Zoe and Bianca had arrows notched, aimed at my chest. Their bows had just appeared out of nowhere.

When Zoe realized who I was, she didn't seem anxious to lower her bow. "You! How dare you show thy face here?"

"Never crossed her mind for a second he was innocently and conveniently on a field trip there?" Magnus smirked.

"No," Thalia rolled her eyes at being on the same page as Zoe, again.

"Percy!" Grover said. "Thank goodness."

Zoe glared at him, and he blushed. "I mean, um, gosh. You're not supposed to be here!"

"Geez, who knew you'd get the kid in the divorce," Percy told Thalia.

"You were saving that joke when he was held by Polyphemus, weren't you?" Thalia grinned.

"That's not the point," he scoffed.

"Luke," I said, trying to catch my breath. "He's here."

The anger in Thalia's eyes immediately melted. She put her hand on her silver bracelet.

"If anyone deserves to be bashed in the face with that shield, it's him," Alex nodded in savage agreement.

Thalia was doing so again in here, but Percy and Jason suspected that troubled look contained more hurt and memories than a bashing was forthcoming.

"Where?"

I told them about the Natural History Museum, Dr. Thorn, Luke, and the General.

"The General is here?" Zoe looked stunned. "That is impossible! You lie."

"Why would I lie?

Percy spoke in tandem with the book, and Thalia couldn't stop a laugh at the exact same level of indignation.

Jason gave a concerned whistle though. "Her mistrust of you runs deeper than I originally thought, I don't even know if it's safe for you to be on this quest. She might desert you at the first chance."

"Don't care," Percy said at once. If he had to dog, track, and hopscotch his way after their every move he would just to get one step closer to finding Annabeth.

Thalia frowned at Jason, wanting to defend Zoe, but knowing she couldn't yet. It wasn't a wrong assumption, just incomplete data of who her predecessor really was.

Look, there's no time. Skeleton warriors—"

"What?" Thalia demanded. "How many?"

"Twelve," I said. "And that's not all. That guy, the General, he said he was sending something, a 'playmate,' to distract you over here. A monster."

Thalia and Grover exchanged looks.

"We were following Artemis's trail," Grover said. "I was pretty sure it led here. Some powerful monster scent... She must've stopped here looking for the mystery monster. But we haven't found anything yet."

"Zoe," Bianca said nervously, "if it is the General—"

"It cannot be!" Zoe snapped. "Percy must have seen an Iris-message or some other illusion."

Jason felt a flicker of unease why Zoe seemed so adamant of where this guy should and shouldn't be. Was it all distrust of the boy being unreliable, or did she have some actual knowledge she was withholding?

"Illusions don't crack marble floors," I told her.

Zoe took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. I didn't know why she was taking it so personally, or how she knew this General guy, but I figured now wasn't the time to ask.

"For once I have to agree," Magnus gave a surly nod. The one time he understood why someone couldn't just spout the answer already.

Jason's unease only rose though what she wasn't saying about this guy, and hoped it hadn't gotten anybody killed.

"If Percy is telling the truth about the skeleton warriors," she said, "we have no time to argue. They are the worst, the most horrible... We must leave now."

"Good idea," I said.

"I was not including thee, boy," Zoe said. "You are not part of this quest."

Percy winced without surprise, he hadn't needed Jason to remind him he was unwanted, and Zoe wasn't going to make it easy on him. His conviction to gawk these Hunters like a satyr was as strong as ever.

"Hey, I'm trying to save your lives!"

"You shouldn't have come, Percy," Thalia said grimly. "But you're here now. Come on. Let's get back to the van."

"I accept that," Percy sighed with a reluctant smile at Thalia. At least she wasn't calling him a liar and telling him to leave too.

She gave him a much quicker smile back and let out another breath of ease. Percy had never been good at holding grudges against his friends.

"That is not thy decision!" Zoe snapped.

Thalia scowled at her. "You're not the boss here, Zoe. I don't care how old you are! You're still a conceited little brat!"

"You never had any wisdom when it came to boys," Zoe growled. "You never could leave them behind!"

Thalia looked like she was about to hit Zoe.

"That's not a match I want to see," Will winced. If Percy and Thalia had nearly destroyed their camp, those two probably would have leveled the state.

It would never come to that now, and Thalia swallowed old, bitter tears how much she still hated Zoe for being right about that. She wouldn't learn her lesson any time soon either, she wasn't leaving here without her friend.

Then everyone froze, I heard a growl so loud I thought one of the rocket engines was starting up.

Below us, a few adults screamed. A little kid's voice screeched with delight: "Kitty!"

"I'm guessing it's not the cute baby sabers back?" Magnus asked uneasily.

"What are the odds of Space Kitty on display?" Rachel sighed, knowing chances weren't in her favor.

Something enormous bounded up the ramp. It was the size of a pick-up truck, with silver claws and golden glittering fur. I'd seen this monster once before. Two years ago, I'd glimpsed it briefly from a train.

"Does everything in the past come to bite me in the ass?" Percy demanded.

Thalia didn't answer, which felt like an answer he didn't want to hear anyways.

Now, up close and personal, it looked even bigger.

"The Nemean Lion," Thalia said. "Don't move."

"It's not a t-rex!" Will yelped.

Nico let out an impressed whistle though and whispered the Nemean Lion's card stats, that had been the first rare card he ever got. "What's this have to do with dinosaurs?" He found himself being gratefully distracted from his past to ask. He wondered if Will heard the curiosity in his voice, he loved dinosaurs too and had slept in more than one museum in a spinosaurus exhibit.

Will gave him a promising smile and said, "it's another movie you have to watch."

He was clearly compiling a list in his head, and Nico couldn't think of a downside to that for a moment...right Tartarus.

The lion roared so loud it parted my hair. Its fangs gleamed like stainless steel.

Rachel's eyes widened in awe, and her hands spasmed in frustration she couldn't be reaching for something to sketch that image right now.

"What did his breath smell like?" Alex asked with interest.

Percy considered for a moment with a wrinkled nose. "Tires, catnip, and death."

"An extravagant new cologne I'm sure," Thalia snorted.

"Does he chase cars down the freeway?" Nico asked, keeping to himself how smug he used to be when he played a hellhound against this card as a sacrifice move to summon Cerberus, though he'd never do that to Mrs. O'Leary now. They might be terrifying playmates.

"I didn't ask," Percy snorted.

"Separate on my mark," Zoe said. "Try to keep it distracted."

"Until when?" Grover asked.

"Until I think of a way to kill it. Go!"

"That's a great answer," Jason begrudgingly approved.

I uncapped Riptide and rolled to the left. Arrows whistled past me, and Grover played a sharp tweet-tweet cadence on his reed pipes.

"Is he trying to distract him with bird calls?" Magnus yelped.

"Not a bad strategy," Nico smirked as he imagined a skeleton bird hopping around.

I turned and saw Zoe and Bianca climbing the Apollo capsule. They were firing arrows, one after another, all shattering harmlessly against the lions metallic fur. The lion swiped the capsule and tipped it on its side, spilling the Hunters off the back. Grover played a frantic, horrible tune, and the lion turned toward him, but Thalia stepped into its path, holding up Aegis, and the lion recoiled. "ROOOAAAR!"

"I don't need Grover's translation for that one," Will muttered.

"Hi-yah!" Thalia said. "Back!"

The lion growled and clawed the air, but it retreated as if the shield were a blazing fire.

For a second, I thought Thalia had it under control. Then I saw the lion crouching, its leg muscles tensing. I'd seen enough cat fights in the alleys around my apartment in New York. I knew the lion was going to pounce.

"Confirmed, Percy likes watching the kittens wiggle their tails," Thalia, as usual, seemed the least concerned about the whole impending doom of them all almost dying, especially herself.

"You've clearly never heard an actual cat fight," Percy shook his head with dread in his stomach. Those deep cat hisses with their fur on end that sent shivers up his spine, their claws ripping off chunks of ear and matting themselves in blood. It was brutal, and Thalia would have been a goner.

"Hey!" I yelled. I don't know what I was thinking, but I charged the beast.

"There's that phrase again," Jason said in exasperation. If this guy ever thought before he moved he might be unstoppable. Even as an impulsive lunatic he was pretty close.

Rachel looked at Percy in admiration his heroics were such an ingrained part of him and tried to map out a color wheel in her mind which would best be used to depict that.

I just wanted to get it away from my friends. I slashed with Riptide, a good strike to the flank that should've cut the monster into Meow Mix, but the blade just clanged against its fur in a burst of sparks.

"And dropping a rocket on its head will do the trick?" Alex asked, though she could now easily imagine why all the breaking came into play.

"Why was a Fury one of the easiest things to kill and she still terrified the piss out of me?" Magnus asked. He'd really like it if each of these things stopped having a gimmicky way they needed to die! Especially another magical beast...as he wondered about those wolves again- nope. One trauma at a time, and Alex was already studying him again for the new stress in his voice.

The lion raked me with its claws, ripping off a chunk of my coat. I backed against the railing. It sprang at me, one thousand pounds of monster, and I had no choice but to turn and jump.

"Plunge to the death the sequel?" Nico muttered. He was proud of himself though he was no longer sitting like a jaw-dropped idiot Percy hadn't managed to fell this beast in one swoop. It wasn't even because he was distracted wondering what his sister would have had to say about Percy being there before they were interrupted.

I landed on the wing of an old-fashioned silver airplane, which pitched and almost spilled me to the floor, three stories below.

An arrow whizzed past my head. The lion jumped onto the aircraft, and the cords holding the plane began to groan.

The lion swiped at me, and I dropped onto the next exhibit, a weird-looking spacecraft with blades like a helicopter. I looked up and saw the lion roar—inside its maw, a pink tongue and throat.

Its mouth, I thought. Its fur was completely invulnerable, but if I could strike it in the mouth...

"Throw your sword in there!" Jason and Alex yelled at once.

"Do I look like I do javelin events for fun?" Percy protested. "Then I'd be unarmed until it came back!"

"That's a really good idea though Percy," Thalia said with a brilliant smile. She didn't even sound insultingly surprised. Who knew looking into the maw of death could ever cause a good idea? "I promise I won't tell PETA on you."

"You're one to talk, Huntress," Percy chuckled along now.

The only problem was, the monster moved too quickly. Between its claws and fangs, I couldn't get close without getting sliced to pieces.

"Zoe!" I shouted. "Target the mouth!"

The monster lunged. An arrow zipped past it, missing completely, and I dropped from the spaceship onto the top of a floor exhibit, a huge model of the earth. I slid down Russia and dropped off the equator.

Thalia winced now though, at the casual reminder Percy had dropped off the face of the Earth and Annabeth was still out there losing her mind with worry.

The Nemean Lion growled and steadied itself on the spacecraft, but its weight was too much. One of the cords snapped. As the display swung down like a pendulum, the lion leaped off onto the model earth's North Pole.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Clear the area!"

Groups of kids were running around screaming. Grover tried to corral them away from the monster just as the other cord on the spaceship snapped and the exhibit crashed to the floor. Thalia dropped off the second-floor railing and landed across from me, on the other side of the globe.

Alex tried her hardest not to bust out laughing the two were the opposite of polar opposites of each other back then when they were after the same goal. The problem was they were too similar.

The lion regarded us both, trying to decide which of us to kill first.

Zoe and Bianca were above us, bows ready, but they kept having to move around to get a good angle.

"No clear shot!" Zoe yelled. "Get it to open its mouth more!"

The lion snarled from the top of the globe.

I looked around. Options. I needed...

The gift shop. I had a vague memory from my trip here as a little kid. Something I'd made my mom buy me, and I'd regretted it. If they still sold that stuff...

"Thalia," I said, "keep it occupied."

"Oh come on, now even you're doing it!" Magnus groaned. Annabeth wasn't even in danger and he was still on the edge of his seat, wide eyed to hear what was next. He hadn't even freaked out over a metal-coated lion being around, that much.

Alex was almost disappointed he finally seemed to be adapting to this world. She missed his dumbstruck face almost as much as she enjoyed watching him get invested in these.

She nodded grimly.

"Hi-yah!" She pointed her spear and a spidery arc of blue electricity shot out, zapping the lion in the tail.

"That is one way to keep it occupied," Rachel agreed proudly.

"And help it decide who to kill first," Jason said faintly.

"ROOOOOOOAR!" The lion turned and pounced. Thalia rolled out of its way, holding up Aegis to keep the monster at bay, and I ran for the gift shop.

"This is no time for souvenirs, boy!" Zoe yelled.

"I don't know what she's on about," Alex scoffed, "I would kill for a lion throw rug right now."

"I don't think The Air and Space Museum sells those," Magnus helpfully reminded. "Unless there really is a space kitty on display and we've been lied to about a lot more than aliens."

"I'm withholding judgment," Alex shrugged.

"Why is it every time I come up with a plan people are calling me crazy or think I'm fleeing?" Percy protested.

"No faith," Will agreed sympathetically. He didn't even know what Percy was up to and he knew it would help.

I dashed into the shop, knocking over rows of T-shirts, jumping over tables full of glowin-the-dark planets and space ooze. The sales lady didn't protest. She was too busy cowering behind her cash register.

There! On the far wall—glittery silver packets. Whole racks of them. I scooped up every kind I could find and ran out of the shop with an armful.

"That explained nothing!" Magnus groaned as he looked at Percy in betrayal.

For once though Percy wasn't disturbing the water or them with it as he read he was so invested in this, and his nose was still scrunched up like that cat breath lingered in memory, so Magnus wasn't too put out Percy wasn't trying to give them a play by play detail of how fast he'd been moving by launching them into the wall again.

Zoe and Bianca were still showering arrows on the monster, but it was no good. The lion seemed to know better than to open its mouth too much. It snapped at Thalia, slashing with its claws. It even kept its eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

Thalia jabbed at the monster and backed up. The lion pressed her.

"Percy," she called, "whatever you're going to do—"

The lion roared and swatted her like a cat toy, sending her flying into the side of a Titan rocket.

"Hopefully not ominous," Percy muttered as he glanced at her now, though she hardly looked winded at the old injury.

Her head hit the metal and she slid to the floor.

"Hey!" I yelled at the lion. I was too far away to strike, so I took a risk: I hurled Riptide like a throwing knife. It bounced off the lion's side, but that was enough to get the monster's attention. It turned toward me and snarled.

Percy swallowed and reminded himself not to clench his fists. "Are you two happy now, I threw the sword!"

"Yes, please continue taking my advice," Alex nodded sagely.

"No, because now you're right and you don't have a weapon and you're about to be Meow Mix," Jason sighed.

"There's no pleasing everybody," Will snorted.

There was only one way to get close enough. I charged, and as the lion leaped to intercept me, I chunked a space food pouch into its maw—a chunk of cellophane-wrapped, freeze-dried strawberry parfait.

"Everybody loves parfait," Percy proudly announced like that explained everything.

It did not, but Percy didn't give them the chance to argue the point as he kept reading in the same way.

The lion's eyes got wide and it gagged like a cat with a hairball.

"Naww," Magnus said with a genuine smile like he actually found that cute.

"You have clearly never heard a cat hack up a hairball," Percy shook his head. "It's disgusting, and I almost feel bad for doing that to him. I once was him."

I couldn't blame it. I remembered feeling the same way when I'd tried to eat space food as a kid. The stuff was just plain nasty.

"Fascinating," Alex declared, and then got up unprompted and left the room. There was a few beats of silence, the sound of gagging and then a toilet flushing, before Alex flopped back into her seat beside Magnus and assured, "and agreed, that stuff should burn. Continue."

Percy decided to take her advice again before anyone else got brave enough to subject themselves to that.

"Zoe, get ready!" I yelled.

Behind me, I could hear people screaming. Grover was playing another horrible song on his pipes.

"Remind me to record some of Grover's songs to add to my playlist," Rachel smiled his music would fit perfectly to how Percy kept describing her taste.

I scrambled away from the lion. It managed to choke down the space food packet and looked at me with pure hate.

"Snack time!" I yelled.

It made the mistake of roaring at me, and I got an ice-cream sandwich in its throat.

Fortunately, I had always been a pretty good pitcher, even though baseball wasn't my game.

"Basketball is throwing something into a hoop, same principle right?" Nico asked.

"Nico, you poor guy." Percy looked at him mortally offended now. "What planet are you from to think such a thing?"

Nico wasn't particularly offended, he was used to not getting the majority of what the other Camper's said, and for once it didn't sting like fresh scorpion pit venom to hear that coming from Percy. It still didn't feel great either.

Will smoothly intervened, "and you wouldn't know the horn from a stirrup in a saddle Percy, moving on."

The blank look on Percy's face proved Will's point enough he did as asked while Nico gave him a grateful smile. Will's heart skipped a beat, and for once he was grateful nobody had ever listened to him about putting saddles on those Pegasus when riding.

Before the lion could stop gagging, I shot in two more flavors of ice cream and a freeze-dried spaghetti dinner.

The lion's eyes bugged. It opened its mouth wide and reared up on its back paws, trying to get away from me.

"I have tamed the beast!" Percy cheered, fist-pumping the water with the book in hand and shooting up a geyser into the ceiling, creating another crack. It made dust dribble down on them for a moment, but Percy kept reading without concern.

Lucky him, he probably wouldn't die if this place collapsed. None of them were so sure if their protection would linger outside these walls.

"Now!" I yelled.

Immediately, arrows pierced the lion's maw—two, four, six. The lion thrashed wildly, turned, and fell backward. And then it was still.

Alarms wailed throughout the museum. People were flocking to the exits. Security guards were running around in a panic with no idea what was going on.

Grover knelt at Thalia's side and helped her up. She seemed okay, just a little dazed.

Zoe and Bianca dropped from the balcony and landed next to me.

Zoe eyed me cautiously. "That was... an interesting strategy."

"Hercules should be begging you for tips," Thalia proudly agreed, though she was grateful she'd kept the comment to herself back then. Percy smiled at her, when she wasn't so sure he would have back then.

Not to mention Zoe might have stabbed her on the spot.

"Hey, it worked."

She didn't argue.

The lion seemed to be melting, the way dead monsters do sometimes, until there was nothing left but its glittering fur coat, and even that seemed to be shrinking to the size of a normal lion's pelt.

"Take it," Zoe told me.

I stared at her. "What, the lion's fur? Isn't that, like, an animal rights violation or something?"

"Only if you don't use the whole animal," Magnus grinned, "the rest of the animal melted, don't let what's left go to waste Perce."

"Duly noted, especially if one of Artemis's girls are telling me," Percy chuckled.

"It is a spoil of war," she told me. "It is rightly thine."

"You killed it," I said.

She shook her head, almost smiling. "I think thy ice-cream sandwich did that.

"I would concur with Zoe," Thalia pretended to shiver in revulsion just to keep up a charade to Percy her old dislike. "I was concussed at the time and saw you poison that poor kitty."

"Payback for the time my mom once tried to take in a stray and it pissed on my bed," Percy said innocently, though in honesty he'd never held a grudge and had snuck it out scraps when Gabe kicked the animal out after it pissed on his pillow too.

Fair is fair, Percy Jackson. Take the fur."

I lifted it up; it was surprisingly light. The fur was smooth and soft. It didn't feel at all like something that could stop a blade. As I watched, the pelt shifted and changed into a coat—a full-length golden-brown duster.

"Howdy, howdy, howdy," Alex burst out laughing, she'd loved Toy Story as a kid.

"It's to bad you never got a hat to go with it," Thalia said with a strange smile, it almost looked forced. That getup had saved his life, and it made her sick to her stomach just thinking about mocking him for it now.

Nico gave Percy a forlorn smile as he said, "I can't imagine why you ever gave that up," though he was glad he had. As if this could get any more perfect, cowboys and pirates all bundled up into one Percy.

Percy gave him the same strange look as ever like he was speaking a different language. Nico flushed and looked away with guilt, he hadn't meant to provoke Percy's memories. Thankfully he didn't flip out, so it wasn't something else he was going to inevitably be blamed for.

"Not exactly my style," I murmured.

"We have to get out of here," Grover said. "The security guards won't stay confused for long."

I noticed for the first time how strange it was that the guards hadn't rushed forward to arrest us. They were scrambling in all directions except ours, like they were madly searching for something. A few were running into the walls or each other.

Will was the only one trying to suppress a smile at that, he felt bad for the mortals, but not bad enough he wanted Percy getting caught.

"Oh my gods!" Alex burst out laughing hardest of all. "I will pay that satyr to teach me that!"

"On yourself or innocent civilians?" Magnus asked sincerely.

"Why not both!" She beamed.

"I'm sure he'll get right on that," Percy agreed.

"You did that?" I asked Grover.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "A minor confusion song. I played some Barry Manilow. It works every time. But it'll only last a few seconds."

"The security guards are not our biggest worry," Zoe said. "Look."

Through the glass walls of the museum, I could see a group of men walking across the lawn. Gray men in gray camouflage outfits. They were too far away for us to see their eyes, but I could feel their gaze aimed straight at me.

"To bad you couldn't feed them to the lion," Thalia scowled, she still remembered her heart skipping a beat every time those menaces showed up.

"Go," I said. "They'll be hunting me. I'll distract them."

"No," Zoe said. "We go together."

I stared at her. "But, you said—"

"You are part of this quest now," Zoe said grudgingly. "I do not like it, but there is no changing fate. You are the fifth quest member. And we are not leaving anyone behind."

"It only took you literally saving her life to admit it," Rachel chuckled as she offered to take the book from Percy.

He seemed reluctant to hand it over. He hadn't gotten any news about Annabeth in this one, what Luke was doing to her, how she was recovering. In this instance he didn't think no news would be good news. He'd figure out how to work a fax machine for a few letters again, take a pigeon message, anything!

If he started kicking up a fuss about wanting to read this though, he was worried he'd start losing it over everything again. He really was trying so hard to keep it together, so he passed the peeling, purple, battered, and bruised, key to his heart over to her.

#pjo #reading the books #fanfiction #Percy Jackson #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #rachel elizabeth dare #zoe nightshade #will solace #nico di angelo #alex fierro #magnus chase #hoo #percabeth #fierrochase #solangelo

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felidthing · 4 months ago

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oh my goddgdgd i did so much shit today not even a lot of individual things but i did also post Four Hours Ago while deep in one stop so. ive been out since like 5 i think. this is a fun time yay yippee recounting btw nothing to complain about yay :] :] im so tired tho.

we went to old navyyyy because i needed some specific shirts and my brother needed shorts for work ya know. my surgery scars are all up in my armpits so literally just having my arms down was causing discomfort/pain bc of skin to skin rubbing and also the glue/residue being annoying. so for the first time in all of history i was explicitly looking for a shirt that was snug around my arms/armpits. gasp. and i found Exactly that!!! incredible! its an athletic shirt! one that just the right size rather than the usual comfortably loose fit i go for in normal shirts. so its a stretchy soft shirt that hopefully is also good with sweat because. its Right Up In My Arms. i got 3. i also got three button downs/"hawaiian" shirt i guess?? never know how to refer to those. when does it become a hawaiian shirt. what does that even mean. but regardless i got some summery all-over print short sleeve button downs. they are awesome. one is very green with macaw-looking parrots but theyre very pink toned, also got a black with white flowers and a white one with a lot of summer fruits and crabs. i love them all sm. and then i ALSO also got a graphic tee with a photo of some california poppies because i Love those flowers so much theyre everywhere in washington (lol) i love em.

the old navy we went to was in a mall so we ended up going to a few different anime/gift type stores.. teehee... and i got THEEESSEEE THEY ARE. SO CUTE I LOVE THEM

i spent uh. 52 dollars. they werent even both $25 like tbh i would be okay with them being $25.. or maybe i just think that bc i was primed by them already costing more but idk i feel that way cant help it.. they were FOURTYYYY EACH but all the plushes were buy one get one 75% OFF?? THATS SO MUCH OFF. they got me. i could have just bought the pig but the allure of a simulated $10 stuffed animal that "would have been 40 otherwise"........ they got me -_- being aware of marketing tactics does Not make me immune to them. but look at these thangs... theyre delightful

less exciting last stop was GOCEY SHOPPINGGGGG i love grocies. but even though its a wednesday night it was so weirdly busy.. we had to get so much shit i spent $294. kill. and me and ridley were so goddamn tired and both of us are already incapacitated on some level AND we had NOTTT EATEN ANYTHING REAL TODAYYYY HELL HELL HELL so we were fighting for our lives to get everything baggded and then into tha house and THENN. THEN, THERE WAS STUFF MISSING we looked one thousand times in every bag and checked the car and it was straight GONE so we were like.. we are going to go back to the store and see if we can get this stuff back Because it was all on the receipt i pieced together that we must have left a bag at the store. so my brother took me back and i approached the self checkout attendant bc they were closest like hello... i was just here and i have some stuff missing its on the receipt.... and they were like oh yeah there was a bag left at that checkout! it had some ice cream and i was like YES its just some frozen stuff and they sent me with another employee that took us to a cart of stuff and they gave me MY EXACT BAG OF MISSING GROCIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY SAVED IT YAYYYAYAYAYAYAY i was literally so happy i wanted to Cry i felt Shaky i was Overwhelmed With Relief And Joy MY GOSHIES!!! it was ice cream and forzen veggies and pizza rolls and MEATBALLS I GOT FOR MY FWIEND bc they forget to get them and we GOT EM BAAVCK HELL YES

triumphant grocery rescue mission. got clothes and Touys. spent so much money like that was most of All my money. hell. but we Won

#posts #long post

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brianbradley · 3 months ago

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There’s a sigh of relief from Bradley as Hyde says that breakfast had been ordered. (If only breakfast had arrived before Bradley was awake, but Bradley had waited for three days — what’s thirty more minutes?) “Hey, thanks,” Bradley says, accepting Hyde’s offering of a shirt and a pair of pants. The shirt and the pair of pants that Bradley had been wearing are likely still wet and, well, unwearable, having been hung to dry in the bathroom and not the balcony. “I’m not sure if my handwashing from last night worked …” He smiles slightly, somewhat pathetically, before standing. And holy shit is standing painful. He breathes in sharply at the bone deep aches and pains of a bruised ankle, a strained back, and a sprained shoulder. “... Shit, it sucks getting older.” As if it’s Bradley’s age that’s to blame for the pain, not Nile’s days long torture, not the nonstop deprivation of the senses and bone chilling cold.

“I slept well, though,” Bradley says, with a surely pathetic smile, now, and pulls on the shirt and the pair of pants. “Better than I have in a while.” With the situation Bradley was in not even eleven hours before, it isn’t suspicious to say. Sleeping in a dumpster would’ve been better than sleeping in a warehouse with Nile an ever impending presence and doom. But having Hyde in bed with him, sharing body heat, was unbelievably and embarrassingly the best he’s had in half a decade — the best sleep he’s had in half a decade, the best night he’s had in half a decade. And how pathetic is that?

Clothed, now, Bradley sits back down, cringing as he does so, onto the bed and beneath the covers. “Tired of the cold, though, I thought I wouldn’t be bothered by it, but the cold’s a fuckin’ nightmare here.” They’ll be driving down to California, Bradley thinks. Down to Los Angeles, California, down to Hyde’s hometown. (Hyde wasn’t much of a New Yorker, Bradley’s thought that for years.) And the thought of it is bizarrely — touching, as though they’re driving down to Los Angeles, California, for a tour of Hyde’s hometown and not to hide from Nile. But Nile’s in California, too. Nile’s in New York. Nile’s in Washington state, Washington D.C. Nile’s in South Dakota. Where the hell isn’t Nile?

They arrive in California, then what? But breakfast is on the table, and then breakfast is in bed, and Bradley’s smiling down at the eggs benedict and the breakfast potatoes on the plate, at the cup of coffee with cream and sugar and the paper carton of orange juice, that Hyde’d ordered a dozen times half a decade back and before then. “You remembered, huh?” Bradley smiles, sipping coffee. Hyde hadn’t missed a beat. “Even down to the coffee. Thanks for ordering it, even though I know you still hate it like this.” Setting the cup of coffee onto the nightstand, he shrugs and, cutting into the eggs benedict and still smiling, says, “But, hey, I need the sugar and the calcium — now more than ever.”

And breakfast is mostly silent, although Bradley turns on the television for the morning news, mouth twisting at the mention of a murder in Sioux Falls, as if Nile would be featured in the headlines. But Nile’s lying low. South Dakota isn’t their territory. New York is Nile’s territory, and so is —

“... We’re headed to California?” Bradley’s standing, wincing, to set what’s left of breakfast — not much — onto the table. “It’ll be a long drive.” Bradley would know, having driven from New York to Tennessee, from Tennessee to Kansas, from Kansas to California, and then from California to Washington, to Wyoming, to South Dakota in rental cars. (He’d had to ditch his car, a Chevrolet Chevelle Laguna, in California, thirty minutes from Los Angeles at an airport, so long ago.)

“But it’ll be nice to finally see what California’s all about.” To finally see the hometown that Hyde’d moved away from at ten years old but held dearly enough to return to almost thirty years later. To finally see the memories of Hyde’s childhood, before he was Detective Hyde, before he worked Red Crown. “Didn’t really have the chance to be a tourist the last time I was there, you know.”

It’ll be nice to finally see Kyle again.

When Kyle wakes he does so to the gentle rhythm of a heartbeat beneath his ear and the slow rise and fall of Bradley's chest. It takes him a while to fully realize where he is and who is with, but only in terms of conscious thought. It seems his subconscious is very aware that he's with Bradley. He has his scent in his nose, the solid line of his body pressed against his and the small almost inaudible sound of relaxed breathing just above him.

Bradley's arms are wrapped around him, one of Kyle's arms slung over Bradley's middle, the other wedged between them. He feels warm and comfortable in a way he hasn't in years and it's unsettling how familiar this feels, even though he cannot recall a time where they'd been tangled like this.

Full consciousness comes to him all at once when Bradley moves beneath him, not so much to suggest that he is waking up, but enough that Kyle can feel his leg shifting between his own. He also feels his hand winding into his hair and his hold tightening somewhat on his form as if Kyle's nothing more than an overgrown stuffed toy to snuggle up to.

It would be endearing, if Kyle didn't feel the entirely inappropriate sparks of sensation travelling up and down his spine at Bradley's unconscious touch. He swallows thickly, angling his body away as best he can to not have this day start with more awkwardness than necessary. A part of him wants to just stay where he is, warm and comfortable and held in a way he hasn't been in well over a decade. His last relationship is well in the past at this point.

Kyle squeezes his eyes shut and bites down on the inside of his cheek when thinking of Bradley and a relationship within the same moment makes his gutt tighten and his heart flutter. That feeling is quickly replaced by a sense of guilt at taking advantage of his sleeping friend to combat his own touch starvation. He can't look too closely into this. Can't allow himself to even consider what this means.

It means nothing. He reminds himself. It's winter. Bradley was shivering like a leaf and Kyle isn't willing to blame their current situation on anything other than them migrating together to combat the cold.

But to avoid having to explain any of this to Bradley or himself, Kyle carefully extracts himself from Bradley's hold, making sure not to pause and marvel at the peaceful expression on his face.

Kyle manages to get out of the bed and to his feet without disturbing Bradley overly much. In fact, after the other man turns over after Kyle got up he doesn't make any indication at waking anytime soon. And this time Kyle does look at his face, chuckling quietly at the small furrow between his brows. His lips arepursed in a slight pout, too after being robbed of his source of warmth and Kyle almost feels bad for it, although it really couldn't be helped.

Kyle tucks the previously disturbed blanket closer around Bradley's form again and watches as the other man burries deeper into the covers again.

He tears his eyes away when his pager starts beeping faintly in the pocket of his suit jacket which he left over by the chairs. He hurries over to silence the little device, only glancing at the display. Rachel. Of course.

Shit... How is he going to explain all this to her? And Ed. Especially Ed. He'd basically just dropped everything on his previous job when some things about Bradley's whereabouts started to fall into place, and now he'd been ignoring the pager for almost three days. Ed would have his head for this. Or maybe he'd fire him again... who knows?

He glances at the bed again and with one look at Bradley's peaceful expression he decides that whatever tongue-lashing Ed's got in store for him, it can wait another few hours. And it will be worth it, too, because otherwise he'd not be here, he'd not be able to see Bradley peacefully sleeping in that bed.

He still goes to pick up the receiver of the phone, to dial the front desk. He figures he may as well order them the breakfast that's included in their stay. He paid good money for it after all.

The conversation is brief and quiet, but he gets confirmation that they'll be around with the food before long and Kyle can already hear his stomach grumbling in return.

Once that's done, he walks over to his suitcase, rummaging around in there for something Bradley can wear. It's still chilly, the winter air makes him shiver, despite the fact that he didn't even change from the clothes he was wearing the day before. He looks it, too, the shirt crumbled and pulled from his pants in some places. But nothing that can't be hid by his suit jacket or coat.

So, he decides to just keep wearing this set of clothes, which leaves Bradley to wear his spare shirt and pants. After having decided this, Kyle moves to the bathroom to splash some water in his face and brush his teeth. This hotel provides some of those disposable toothbrushes with toothpaste already on it, too, which comes in handy because he forgot his own is still tucked away in his suitcase and wandering back and forth too often would likely wake up Bradley and he'd rather let him sleep as long as possible.

But it seems Kyle is worrying too much, because by the time he gets back Bradley is still sleeping soundly. He really must have been exhausted. No wonder, considering, but it only supports Kyle's claim from the day before, Bradley would not have made it far if he ran from him. They may have to get him checked out at a doctor, maybe get something stronger for the pain those bruises likely cause him.

Bradley only stirs when Kyle eventually makes his way back to the bed to pick up his notebook, meaning to gather his things so they can leave swiftly after breakfast and be on the road as soon as possible. He stops by the side of the bed.

"Morning." Kyle says, the warm smile on Bradley's face enough to pull the corners of his lips upward as well. "A while." He answers honestly and with a shrug of his shoulders.

Kyle's smile widens when Bradley asks about breakfast. "Way ahead of you. Someone should be round with some grub soon." He leaves the notebook for now when he sees Bradley sit up in bed, upper body still bare, instead moving to hand him some clothes to put on.

"Here." He says. "Put these on before you catch your death." He puts the pants and shirt on the bed between them. "You sleep alright?"

#limitsofdoubt

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doyelikehaggis · 4 years ago

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Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scydia/McMartin | Scott McCall x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @wonderdoves & anonymous

"This place is…"

Scott can't even think of a word. He just gazes ahead of them in wonder and awe. For miles, all he can see is snow. A thick white blanket of it covering the entire path ahead, the roads, the cobblestoned buildings, the trees—god, even the trees feel like something out of a fairytale, with long, twisting branches that have a dusting of snow themselves. And it's still going, trying to make them part of the scenery, too.

"You'd think you'd never seen snow before," Lydia teases.

"I haven't—not like this! California's snow is nothing compared to this."

Lydia just smiles, a certain fondness in her eyes. She squints up at the sky, her nose wrinkling slightly, their suitcases dragging along through the snow behind them as they continue their way from the ferry port. Something else that Scott is admittedly still in amazement over; he'd never actually been on a ferry before.

It's just a good thing that the snow stopped long enough for them to actually reach Ireland, or else they'd have still been holed up in their cabin, stuck somewhere in the middle of the sea. Not the worst scenario he can think of, to be fair. But he's glad, nonetheless, because this is so much better.

"I don't know," Lydia says. "I think I prefer the warm winters. I'm just hoping that Gran and Nana make their hot chocolate like they used to when I was younger, I'm telling you, it's the best thing ever."

Scott smiles, finally looking at Lydia as they come to a stop outside a two-storey, cobbled house with a gate around the garden. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her nose a pale pink. Snowflakes have clung to her green hat, along the shoulders of her matching green coat, and to her eyelashes. There's a gleam of pure excitement and joy beneath them as she stares at the house.

When she takes a deep breath, it returns like a puff of smoke. Scott gently squeezes her hand and holds it up in his own, bringing her gloved knuckles to his lips.

"You look nervous," he tells her softly.

"A little," Lydia says, nodding. "Only because I haven't been here since I was… nine? And there's so much to tell them. I mean, I know my mom filled them in on pretty much everything, but still."

Scott nods as well, saying, "I know. It's a lot. But it'll be okay."

"Yeah, of course," Lydia agrees. Her smile seems a little more confident as she gives another nod.

They walk through the gate, into the garden that Scott's now seeing is teeming with things; empty plant pots, kids toys, an overturned bicycle. Even the stones of the house are more interesting than he had initially realized, with bright murals painted across the whole front of the house.

As soon as they enter the house, the door closing behind them, they're hit with unexplainable warmth. And the shouting and giggling of kids that whiz past them, nearly knocking them off their feet.

"I forgot how loud it gets here," Lydia says, but she's laughing. Scott can see it in her eyes as she looks around the entrance hall, beautifully decorated with lengths of tinsel, and handcrafted baubles hanging from the ceiling.

Framed pictures line the walls up the stairs as far as he can. The closest one, hanging by the bottom of the stairs, has a familiar little girl, giving her biggest smile to the camera beside a young woman with a striking resemblance.

"Is this you?" Scott asks, his smile wide.

Lydia looks at the photo. "Oh god, yeah. I think that was when I was, like… six? I came up here every Christmas and New Year before my parents divorced. That's my gran."

"You look like her," Scott tells her, and he can hear the joyful skip of heart, hear it in her proud little hum of agreement.

"Well, maybe without some of the grey hair," a voice says from behind them.

They both turn around, and Lydia's face lights up. She's already squealing and dropping her suitcase and Scott's hand.

"Gran!" Lydia practically flies at her, hugging her tightly.

Her gran laughs, caught by surprise but only for a second, wrapping her up in her arms. "I've missed you too, Ariel!"

"Haven't heard that name in a while," someone else says, with a distinctively more Irish accent, but still holding the same fond, overjoyed tone.

Scott looks at the woman who appears at their side from the room behind Lydia and her gran. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos.

Maddy places a hand on Lorraine's shoulder as she and Lydia pull apart. Lydia looks on the verge of tears as she buries herself into Maddy's open embrace as well for a second, both laughing now.

"And you…" Lorraine looks over Scott with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. A certain kind of knowing. "... You're Scott McCall."

Scott returns her smile and nods. "I am. I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Martin."

"Yeah, I know a thing or two about you as well," Lorraine tells him, and he knows.

He knows she isn't just talking about him and Lydia being together, but about everything. The deadpool. She knew who he was and what he was going to be before he even hit ten.

For a moment, his worries from the ferry come back. Not all supernatural creatures are a fan of each other, and with the destruction that werewolves have a history of causing, banshees can't be that fond of them. And especially with everything that's happened to Lydia.

But then her smile grows and she says, "I'm glad to finally meet you! And, please, call me Lorraine. This is my wife, Maddy."

"So, this is the little wolf that got your heart, huh?" Maddy jokes to Lydia, an arm around her shoulders.

Lydia looks at Scott. She bites her bottom lip through her smile, and her eyes are saying everything.

She nods and softly says, "Yeah. He is."

"Then you're more than welcome here," Lorraine says.

Relief starts to lift the weight off of Scott's shoulders and chest. The warm, welcoming atmosphere is hard to resist, and he's already feeling at home.

Lydia was right. The hot chocolate is one of the best things he's ever had. Creamy and overflowing with marshmallows with a candy cane to stir it around. Not to mention the plate of cookies. He has never had a gingerbread man that tastes this good.

It's already dark outside, the sun having set an hour or two after they arrived. They already changed into warmer, more comfortable clothes, and settled in front of the fireplace in the living room to get rid of the chill from the snow. Lorraine and Maddy insisted. Didn't want them getting sick, and ignoring their protests about not being able to actually get sick.

"Your cousins don't look like they're having a good time," Scott comments quietly, watching the half-asleep couple sitting in the corner.

"They have five kids, all under the age of ten," Lydia replies. "I think the only thing they can feel right now is exhausted."

Scott snorts. He looks around the room. He's met nearly everyone on this side of the family by now. Every cousin, second cousin, aunts, uncles. The kids that Lorraine and Maddy took in have been especially eager to meet him.

His attention is drawn back to the little boy sitting cross-legged in front of him. He's only nine.

Scott wasn't expecting it when Lorraine and Maddy told him that around ten years ago, another banshee had found them. She was only nineteen and had no one and no idea what was going on with her. They took her in, Lorraine helped her. And from then, it's like their home was its own supernatural beacon, but for kids who had nowhere else to go.

Sean, the little boy currently sneaking another gingerbread man from the plate, is a werewolf. His family, his pack, were hunted down when he was four. Lorraine felt it coming. She and Maddy found Sean.

There's a little yelp and Sean clutches his hand. Scott catches a glimpse of tiny claws where nails should be.

"Can I…?" he asks, holding out a hand.

Sean hesitates, but he glances at Lydia, who smiles and nods encouragingly, then back at Scott. He slowly gives him his hand, palm up.

"I don't know how to control it…" Sean mutters, looking down sheepishly.

Scott inspects where the small trickle of blood is coming from. Three little lines where his claws accidentally caught his skin in passing.

Shaking his head, Scott speaks gently, and draws on the pain in Sean's hand. "It's okay. You're still learning."

"Yeah, it's actually harder for born wolves," Lydia chimes in, nodding convincingly when Sean lifts his eyes to her with curiosity. "You'd think it was the other way around, but one of our friends—he was born a werewolf."

"And he didn't learn until he was sixteen," Scott tells him. "It just takes time."

"And knowing what keeps you grounded," Lydia adds. "Your anchor."

Sean looks at Scott. "Do you have an anchor?"

Scott nods. "I do. I had to learn to let me be my own anchor, but when that doesn't work for me, I focus on all the people I love. My mom, my best friend, my pack."

He glances at Lydia only to find her already gazing at him with the softest smile, her cheek leaning against her shoulder. She places a kiss to his shoulder, her hand resting on her arm for a second.

"You just need to find something that makes you feel more in control," Scott finishes, turning back to Sean. "Even if it's an emotion."

Sean nods slowly. His expression is one of deep thought, trying to work to figure out what his own anchor could be.

"Now, you should go clean this up," Scott says. "Just run it under warm water with some soap, okay? It might sting a little, but just ask Lorraine or Maddy if they have any antibiotic cream, and then put a bandage on it."

"Are you a doctor?" Sean asks.

"No," Scott can't help but grin as he says, "I'm just a vet."

That answer only seems to confuse Sean. But he gets up and hurries off to go do what Scott instructed.

When Scott turns back, Lydia's still watching him. She has this look on her face, a thoughtful glaze in her eyes and a certain kind of smile that he can't read.

Chuckling, Scott asks, "What is it?"

She lets a beat pass. She shakes her head, takes a slow breath in, then looks over at the window instead.

"It's still snowing. Do you wanna sit in the garden? There's a nice bench out back."

Scott's eyebrows furrow a little, but he stands with her, following her to the back door from the kitchen. Stepping outside is like what he'd imagine stepping into a walk-in freezer would feel like.

But the cold biting at his skin is unimportant. The awe hits him all over again as he takes in the sight of the garden, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale instead. Everywhere he looks, everything is white and sparkling. From the entire ground, to the gazebo at the end of the garden.

Somehow, in amidst it all, there are flowers. Whole roses and everything, snow dusting across their dark red petals.

"This is…" Scott breathes out, his eyes wide, "... I don't even know what this is. This place doesn't feel real."

Lydia laughs gently. She wraps her arms around her and nods, looking around as the snow falls around them.

"Yeah, it does feel kind of… magical."

"We could actually make a snowman," Scott continues. "Or have a real snowball fight. Are snow angels things that people actually do?"

Lydia's eyebrows are raised when he looks back at her, and she's shaking her head. But she's got a smile that stretches to the corners of her eyes and he can feel emotions radiating off of her.

"You are so dorky." She moves closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "And I love you."

Scott smiles. His voice is soft and giving away all of the fondness he feels for her when he says, "And I love you."

She leans in, her head tilting. Her lips are soft against his. He pulls her a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. The cold and even the snow is easier to ignore.

Lydia pulls back, her hands lingering on his shoulders. Scott doesn't let go at all.

"I'm really glad you're here with me," Lydia tells him. "And my whole family now loves you, so that's a nice bonus. I think you even made a friend."

Scott grins, shrugging. "Your family is great, and I am… beyond relieved that they like me. And, I think with Sean, it's a werewolf thing."

"Oh, no." Lydia shakes her head firmly. "Maybe that's a small part of it, the whole Alpha thing and all, but all of the kids in there love you."

They pull apart. Lydia sits down on the bench. Scott follows, and can't help but start piling the snow from the arm of the bench into a ball in his hand.

"You were amazing with Sean," Lydia comments, glancing at him. She's doing the same thing with the snow on her side.

Scott shrugs again. "I just told him the same as I told Liam. And Alec. It's how I wish I could have been introduced to all of this. With someone reassuring me that it would be okay."

Lydia nods in a shared understanding. Neither of their starts in the supernatural word were exactly pleasant or comforting. Scott's only sorry that Lydia was brought into it the way she was.

She rests a hand on top of his, curling her fingers beneath his palm. She squeezes gently.

He knows that she can tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he worries that banshees have the ability to read minds as well. But the look she gives him and her hand there with his draws his thoughts away from the past. Everything is okay. It's better than okay.

"It's amazing what your gran and nana have done, though," Scott says. "Taking in supernatural kids who have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, it's like a little foster home, but… for werewolves, banshees, and everything else," Lydia jokes, but her smile is sincere. "It's a really good thing they're doing. The kids are so happy here."

"I can see why," Scott says, gazing back out across the garden. The snow has the sky practically glowing, in no way looking like it's dark enough to be night.

There's a slight pressure against his hand from Lydia's fingers, moving slowly.

"Do you… do you think that's something you'd ever want to do?" Lydia asks, careful with her words.

Scott looks back at her. She's watching him again, with curious eyes. His heart drops many beats.

"Wait, are you—?" he starts to ask, but Lydia's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head.

"No!" she hastens to answer. "No, I'm not! I just meant… you know, in general, is it—is it something that you can see for the future? Not necessarily the foster home part, but… you know."

She chews her bottom lip. Scott takes it in, letting the question process. After a moment, a smile curves the corners of his mouth up.

"Imagine, the first werewolf-banshee hybrid," he says.

"That can't have been done before," Lydia agrees, a laugh to her voice. "I wonder if one side would skip them, or if we'd be creating a whole new species."

Scott actually does laugh now, and Lydia joins him. His stomach is buzzing with butterflies or bees, he can't tell.

When they both go quiet, Scott slowly nods. He lifts his eyes to meet Lydia's.

"I like the sound of that," he says softly. "Whether it be a werewolf-banshee hybrid, or even an orphaned werewolf with nobody else… yeah. It's something I see for the future."

Lydia takes in a deep breath. She presses her lips together as her smile threatens to take over her entire face. She just nods, and breathes out slowly.

"Good to know," she says. "I do too, for the record."

"Okay, that's great," Scott says, grinning from ear to ear.

Lydia hums in agreement. Then the ball of snow that she'd been forming hits him square in the chest.

It's safe to say that it is freezing. The snow instantly seeps through his Christmas jumper, melting into his skin. He gasps while Lydia laughs behind her hands, hee eyes wide.

"You said you wanted a snowball fight…" she reminds him.

Scott nods. "You're absolutely right. I did."

The ball of snow in his own hand hits Lydia. She gasps, snow sticking to her jumper as well now.

"Oh my god, so cold!" she exclaims. "Why is that so cold?!"

"Because it's real snow," Scott says, his excitement quickly returning.

Lydia looks at him, her eyes narrowing. A familiar, competitive smirk forms on both their faces.

"Game on," she says.

Next second, they're trying to dodge out of the other's way, snowballs flying across the garden. There are gasps and shouts and laughter when they successfully land a shot.

Maybe it's a little unfair that Scott taps into his heightened abilities to move faster. But the advantage doesn't stop Lydia from managing to sneak up on him and tackle him into the snow. It's so deep that they sink a few inches into it, laughing until their sides and faces ache, and neither of them actually win, both claiming they did. But they end up just lying there in the freezing snow, curled into each other, staring up at the night sky.

#teen wolf #twedit #twrarepair #scydia #mcmartin #scott mccall #lydia martin #scott x lydia #lydia x scott #twelve days of rarepairs #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits*#wonderdoves #OKAY SO I LOVED WRITING THIS #you really let me just go for it with that prompt damn I love that thank you #and scott and lydia are like one of my favourite otps for teen wolf so once again THANK YOU so much for allowing to let them be soft #hope that you enjoy!!#also if any rarepairs are late at all over the next twelve days... no they aren't you can't see that

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lunarliza · 4 years ago

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Fake Boyfriend | Chapter 1: Two Truths and a Big Fat Lie

JJ x Kook!reader Series

You’re a Kook Princess who has everything you ever wanted... until your handsome Kook Prince dumps you for a hot new fling. To save your reputation, you bribe the one person he hates the most, JJ Maybank, to pretend to be your boyfriend for the summer. All’s fair in love and war. But where do you draw that line when you’re suddenly wishing your fake boyfriend is your real one?

ahh yes, my third rendition of a fake dating/enemies to lovers story. this is just a short lil intro but i’m excited for this series!

“He did what?”

“Yup, broke up with me right over the phone,” you repeated to your hairstylist, Boris, who almost snipped off a chunk of your locks in utter shock.

“What a complete asshole!” Boris groused, clipping away at your dead ends, “What did you say after? Please tell me you told him off and slashed his tires or I have failed as a mentor.”

“Well I was so angry and shaken up I didn’t know what to say,” you pouted, “So I just said whatever and hung up.”

It had been a couple days since your nasty break up with your ex-boyfriend who blind-sided you and ended things out of nowhere. Needless to say, you were a cluttered mess and this was your favorite form of therapy: self care, a new hair color, and mindlessly ranting to Boris-- the one person on the island who would absolutely destroy anyone who did you wrong.

“Y/n!” he droned, “How are you gonna let him end a two year relationship and just say ‘whatever’? No, you need to get to slashing right after I fix you up or else you’ve missed your Carrie Underwood moment!”

You sighed. “I know I should’ve gone all psycho bitch on him, but I didn’t want it to seem like I care all that much! Besides,” you mumbled the next part, “he’s got a new girl already.”

The grown man nearly dropped his shears. “Already?! This just happened like two days ago!”

“I know,” you cringed, “My friends came over last night to investigate her Instagram. I think she’s their family friend or something. Word on the Eight is that she’s here for the summer from California and is staying at his house.”

Boris scoffed and tossed his finished scissors on the counter in frustration, starting up the curling iron. “So he dumped you after two years and dates someone else a day after?” he shook his head, “Unbelievable. He probably had her on the side when you guys were together too. Honey, you’re so much better off without him.”

“Yeah, you’re right!” you agreed cooly-- as if you weren’t bawling and moping over old camera roll pictures just minutes before pulling up to the salon.

Boris lightly blow dried your newly dyed hair while you admired it through the mirror. “I like this color a lot,” you commended, “I was a little iffy that it wouldn’t look right, but I knew you’d work your magic.”

Your freshly manicured hands played with the ends before Boris began curling the back strands.

“You deserve it, sweetie. Forget about that piece of trash and move on with your life! You have all summer to find a new beau,” he chimed, “Where are you going tonight again?”

“Just dinner with the girls. My friend Sarah’s dad got us reservations to Chalet Basque so we’ll definitely be treating ourselves.”

You giggled when he began doing fake French impressions of the servers. Leave it to him to lighten your mood during trying times. When he finished the last curl, he basked you in a hairspray that smelled like rosewater and spun you in the seat for the final ‘voila’ moment.

Boris never failed to make you feel like a full-on beauty queen during your weekly glam seshs.

As he undid the little cape around you, you spotted a familiar combo of tall dark and handsome waltz through the front door from the corner of your eye.

“Shit,” you cursed, a little louder than intended, and shielded your face, “It’s him! And he brought the girl!”

Boris’ eyes widened. “That’s her?” he yelled-whispered, eyeing the couple that just plopped down in the waiting area, “Oh you’re so much prettier.”

You smiled and covertly peeked over at them-- the island’s new supposed ‘power couple’. You almost hurled when you heard kids on the Eight were coining them that name.

There he sat, Max Vega, in all his preppy, muscular, Spanish-rooted glory. He was even wearing the expensive polo you got him last Christmas. Oh, he looked so cute with his jet black hair slightly slicked back with a single strand hanging on his forehead. Just the way you loved it.

Tucked under his arm was his new trophy girl. Her beach-waved blonde hair came all the way down to her perfectly shaped hips and her tan model legs draped across his while they watched some video together on his phone.

Your heart sank at the way he tapped her nose when he said something cute to her. The same way he used to do to you.

Before you could turn away, his chestnut eyes met yours and he stiffened. You hurriedly tried to avert your gaze, but saw him begin walking over to you through Boris’ giant mirror nonetheless.

“Y/n!” he greeted, coming up behind you.

“Max! Oh what a surprise!” you mimicked his fake seething enthusiasm, whipping around the chair.

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

You held back a scoff. As if you hadn’t made weekly trips to the place to get your hair, nails, and eyebrows done since you were ten. You seriously wondered sometimes if you were truly in love him or if he was just pretty.

His girl stood a little behind him, clutching onto his toned arm like a shy little bunny. “Anyways,” he snaked his hand to the small of her back, “This is Anya. She’s my dad’s partner’s daughter from Huntington Beach and is staying in our guest house for the summer.”

The giant perky blonde straightened her back and held out her hand, that wasn’t wrapped around your ex-man, to you. “Hey girl! It’s so nice to meet one of Max’s friends!”

You heard Boris lightly gag in the background and had to suppress your impending laughter.

With all the willpower you could muster up, you rose from the chair and put on the most forced smile you have ever done. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you too.”

“So uh, you look nice,” Max noted at your elaborate hairdo, “What’s the occasion?”

“I-”

“She’s actually going on a date tonight,” Boris butted-in as-a-matter-of-factly. You whisked your head around to the man, giving him a frantic ‘wtf’ look.

Max wrinkled his brows. “Oh... well that’s nice. Who with?”

You racked your brain for a name. Any name.

Briefly, you glanced out the shop window and caught a glimpse of a trio skipping by outside. One of your friends, Kiara Carrera, linked arms with two of her best guy friends as they munched on ice cream cones from next door. Your eyes fixated on a certain blonde boy in a snapback and untucked black button up.

Bingo.

“Uh, it’s with JJ. JJ Maybank. You know him right?” you brought up slyly.

Your ex was definitely taken aback- especially at the mention of the one guy he despised most on the island. “Oh, what? W-Wow,” he sputtered, “I didn’t know you guys talked like that.”

“Yeah, I mean it just kind of happened. Sarah set us up,” you continued to fib, crossing your arms. You felt bad having to lie like that, but the look of pain and confusion on Max’s face almost made it worth it.

Almost.

Before he could pry any further, the nail technician called for Anya from the other side of the salon.

She cheered and bid you goodbye before yanking Max along with her to get their couple’s treatment. The same one he refused to get with you no matter how many times your begged. Who knew all it took was a leggy blonde with a butt thrice the size of yours to do the trick.

You sighed in relief once they disappeared to the pedicure station and smacked Boris’ arm. “What’d you do that for?! A date?! He had to know I was lying!”

“Ow!” he rubbed his tattooed arm, “Look, if he’s moving on, then you gotta act like you are too. Trust me, you’ll thank me later for this.”

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

note: lowkey basing the girl off of cher horowitz from clueless lmao. anyways chapter two to come

chapter two

#Outer Banks #outerbanks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj obx #obx #sarah cameron #jj x reader #JJ Imagine #jj fanfiction #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years ago

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Tension // Spencer Reid x Reader

A blurb request for @emo---tional ! This is a bit longer than a blurb though OOPS AGAIN.

Summary - Reader and Spencer aren't exactly the nicest to eachother, but that all changes on a jet ride home.

Word Count - 1.2k (ITS 1.2K EXACTLY IM SO PROUD!)

Prompts - "Do you think you could just go ONE day without pissing me off?" -- "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

It was normal for this tension to be floating in a room when it was just me and Spencer.

Emily called it *sexual* tension, but I knew that was bullshit.

We remained at a precinct in San Francisco, California. We had just finished a case and the others had gone out to get a drink as a celebration. The jet wasn't able to come until tomorrow because of some fuel difficulties, so we were staying in a hotel for the night. Dr. Reid and I decided to stay here and get a head start on paperwork.

I sat criss-crossed in my chair, bent over a small stack of paperwork that was clipped onto a clip board. My pen scrawled across the page violently.

"You know you really shouldn't slouch like that." Spencer commented, tipping his chair back onto two legs.

"And you really shouldn't tip your chair back, you could crack your head open." He then continued as if I had said nothing, per usual.

"The slouching position puts pressure on your bones, thereby causing discs to become compressed and making you vulnerable to back pain. Also, it causes your pelvic muscles to go slack, which makes it progressively harder to support a well-aligned stance. Not that you have one in the first place." He mumbled the last part, returning to his paperwork.

"Do you think you could just go *one* day without pissing me off? Is it that hard to just keep your genius mouth shut? Or is that the only thing you never learned?" I snapped, throwing my pen on the table and standing from my seat. "I'm gonna go drink with the team. You should probably stay here and think of another smartass thing to say to me next time we're near eachother." I slammed the conference room door and headed to the entrance. The office lady Linda waved sympathetically at me as I left, I gave her a kind smile.

The moment I entered my car I set my head lightly on the steering wheel.

*Why is he such an asshole to me?*

*What even is this feud we have going on?*

I rolled my eyes at the thought. There was no use even questioning it, neither of us had an answer.

I started up my car and drove to the bar the team mentioned. I just needed something to loosen me up. He really knew how to grind my gears, and I was about at the end of my rope.

The jet finally arrived at 5 am. I hadn't been able to fall asleep until about 1 so I wasn't particularly in a great mood. My suitcase rolled loudly behind me on the runway. Just as I was about to the steps, Spencer had caught up to me.

"Someone looks like they got a lot of sleep last night." He raised his eyebrows and lightly pointed and rubbed under his eyes, silently stating that I had bags under my eyes. I wasn't in the mood so I didn't say anything back, I could feel my eye twitch in annoyance and my nostrils flare. I stomped my way onto the jet without a word. My bag was thrown near the couch and I plopped onto it. Time for a 4 hour ride home.

My eyes slid shut easily and I drifted to sleep.

Apperantly my body didn't want me to sleep, because here I was, just two hours later.

Wide awake.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and adjusting them to the light. Everyone else was asleep, besides Spencer. He sat reading a book in the single facing chairs that were across from the couch.

I willed my legs to stand and take me the the back room for some coffee. I poured my copious amounts of sugar and cream in and headed back out to the couch.

"Yeah, that'll help you fall asleep." Spencer didn't even look up from his book to make the snide comment, just flipping mindlessly through the pages. I opted to not answer again, just rolling my eyes and sitting on the couch again. "What? No witty comment back?" My eyes were glued to the brown liquid that swished in the mug. I glanced at him, then back at the mug, barely acknowledging him. I could feel his eyes on me still.

"Do you need something?" My voice came out as exhausted as possible while I finally made eye contact with him. He stood from his spot, bringing himself next to me.

"You seem off." His shoulder bumped with mine as he sat. I just shrugged in response, my eyes remaining forward as I sipped my coffee.

"I'm fine." I turned my head to look at him, realizing just how close we were. Our noses were nearly touching. I could feel my cheeks heating up, so I whipped my head forward again and brought my mug to my lips. Hoping he wouldn't notice.

But of course he did.

"Is there a reason you're blushing like that?" His question came out so quiet. I was 100% sure that I was the only one that would hear it, even if the rest of the team was wide awake.

"I don't know what you're talking about." My voice was muffled by my navy blue mug, which I set on the table immediatly after, blush free. A hand was brought under my chin, forcing me to face him.

"Really? Because I definitely saw it." He teased. I shrugged once again, trying to come across as unbothered but I truly just wanted to kiss him right now.

But that was crazy.

*Right?*

Regardless of my thoughts, I felt myself leaning in, a sense of relief washing over me as I saw he was too. I put my hand on his chest as our lips met. His thumb stroked my cheek softly.

I had never felt a kiss like that before. It felt like a heated blanket on a winter night. Or when your mom would bring you tea when you were sick. It felt like the suns soft rays on your shoulders on an early spring morning.

It was so *warm*.

I pulled away to get some air.

"I'm sorry." He put his head on my shoulder.

"No! Don't be, I wanted to-"

"No, I'm sorry for being so rude to you all the time. It's very uncalled for. The only reason I started doing that was because I thought you didn't like me, even in a friendly way. So I wanted to beat you to the punch." He set his head on my shoulder, laughing a bit. "Sounds so stupid now."

"Do you think we should keep the whole charade up in front of the team? Just for fun?" I raised an eyebrow at him with a playful smile.

"Does that mean you want to continue this?" He asked with a tilt of the head.

"Obviously." A soft giggle erupted from my lips.

"Sounds like fun." He pulled me in for another kiss. "But we better stop before they start passing around betting money, I heard them talking about it last week." I pushed his chest a bit.

*This should be fun*

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot

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harrysgloves · 4 years ago

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Let Your Hair Down (chapter xxv)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 1,242

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: Harry tries to talk some sense into you.

warnings: Language

a/n: Gonna be 100% honest. I picked this GIF solely because I believe Harry would wave to Ryan like this while slamming the door in his face. xx

>>><<<

Sunday night couldn't come fast enough for you and Harry. You both anxiously waiting in your living room for 6 pm to roll around. Your hands fidgeting with the ends of your hair while you stared a hole into your front door.

It was 5:58 and all you could think about was what if he didn't bring her back.

You had to constantly remind yourself to keep breathing as the seconds ticked away on the clock in your living room. Your whole weekend had been like this, you worried out of your mind.

Harry had his own ways of dealing with this. Which consisted of him trying to convince you to move to California with him or packing her up and running away in the middle of the night and going in hiding.

Like that would ever work with him being… well him.

The second the clock chimed 6, your heart dropped. They were late. Harry's eyes darting to the clock, the door, and finally you. He didn't have to tell you that he was thinking about the same thing you were.

What would you do if he ran with her?

You felt like you could have hit your knees in relief when the knock came from your front door. Both of you scrambling to answer it as fast as possible. Slipping and sliding all over your hardwood floor in your socks.

You were both out of breath with big smiles on your face as Harry threw open the door and your happy baby girl standing there with that signature wide smile across her face. Ice cream cone in hand and ice cream running down her face.

"We got ice cream!" She cheered, jumping on both feet forward into the apartment. Her free hand wrapping around Harry's leg.

"I told ya you'd 'ave a good time." He smiled, bending down to hug her fully.

You were glad he was finally coming around to see your side of the argument. Understanding finally that you only wanted the best for her, which included having a dad in her life.

Even if you both hated him.

"You live here now?" Ryan asked, staring down Harry with a look of hatred painted across his face.

"Yeh. That a problem?" He glared back at him. His eyes shooting from Thea to Ryan.

You furrowed your brows as you looked at him. You hadn't even given him the key you had made for him yet and he now apparently lived with you?

"Nah, just wanted to see if mine and Y/N's little chat got through to her. See it didn't."

Harry looked up to you silently questioning what the hell that meant. You hadn't told him what Ryan had said to you but it didn't take much time for him to put together he'd threatened you.

"I think it's time for you to go. We'll see you in two weeks." You said, cutting the tension in the room. You just wanted him to leave already. Harry was about 3 seconds away from exploding and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop him from kicking his ass this time.

"You'll see me this weekend. Heard my baby girl is having her birthday party. Wouldn't want to miss that." He smiled smugly. Harry standing up again and holding Thea on his hip.

"Right… Well, Thea, tell your dad bye." Your heart sinking, not wanting him to come to the party you'd worked so hard on just to ruin it.

But it was her party after all and you weren't going to tell her she couldn't invite him. You had to try to be supportive of their relationship even if you did want to punch him in the face every second he was around you.

"Bye! See you at my party." She smiled, waving goodbye as you shut the door in his face.

Harry glancing at you but you shook your head at him. Not wanting to talk about it with Thea up. Deciding it would be an after bedtime talk.

"What was he talkin' 'bout?" Harry asked as soon as Thea was asleep. The door to her room wasn't even fully shut yet before he started on you.

"Nothing, you know just him trying to get me back, same old shit. Don't worry about it. He'll drop it eventually." You sighed, walking over to the sink full of dishes from dinner and starting to fill it up with water.

If you were going to talk about this you needed something to distract you.

"I don't think he's goin' t'drop it, Y/N. He's hurt ya, stalked ya, and now he's threatenin' ya? We need to go to the police."

Harry's voice was filled with so much concern it made you pause. Eyes shooting up from the dirty dishes to see him looking at you in a way you'd never seen before. He was genuinely worried, it made your stomach turn.

You didn't want him to worry about you like this.

"It isn't going to solve anything. There's no proof." You said again which had to be the hundredth time you'd told him that.

"Please, just listen t'me. Things like this, they don't jus' go away. It doesn't jus' get better. I was doin' some research 'bout this kind of stuff over the weekend. Shit, Y/N, people end up gettin' really hurt in these situations." He pleaded, his hands pulling yours from the sink as he turned you. Making you look at him, the pain evident in his light green eyes. Your heart clenching thinking about how much he had to be worrying about this to bring it up.

"Harry, I'm not going to get hurt. It'll be okay. I can handle it." You tried your best to reassure him but it didn't seem to work. His soft brown curls swaying gently back and forth as he shook his head in disbelief.

"This is what I'm talkin' 'bout. Y'can't keep brushin' it off." He sighed, head leaning forward to rest against the top of yours. His arms enveloping around you.

"I'm not brushing it off. I'm being serious, it's fine." Your voice muffled by his shirt as he clutched onto you.

"Well, I got y'mace anyways." You laughed pulling back from him, thinking he was joking until you saw the look on his face.

He was being completely serious.

"I don't need that. Stop worrying so much. I handled it for years just fine." Your eyebrows furrowed as he moved away from you. He rummaged through his bag on the counter and pulled out the keychain pepper spray and handed it to you.

"It'll make me feel better jus' put it on yer keys, yeh? And don't go anywhere alone with him." His words made you roll your eyes. You didn't need fucking pepper spray to handle Ryan. Harry was being so overprotective but you sort of thought it was cute in a way.

Annoying but cute.

"Fine. I'll put it on my keys if it makes you stop freaking out." You reached for your house keys, clipping the keychain onto it. Knowing you'd never need it but settling on keeping it there just to make him feel better.

You took off the extra key you had made for him handing it over to the confused looking Harry. Who immediately started to smile like an idiot when he figured out what you were giving him.

"I'll be fine, H. Promise."

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #writing #mine #LYHD

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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Hotel California, Chapter 5 (Gigi/Jackie) - Roza

summary: jackie is beginning to struggle with her own anxiety and worry about the situation at home while gigi seems to be in nothing but an utter euphoria.

author's note: thank you jankie candle for all the support and to meg for being my wonderful beta! I hope you all enjoy and tumblr is @leljaaa as always xx

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)

— *.✧

Three fateful days had passed since Gigi and Jackie had officially slept with one another.

Jackie kept track, it was something of importance to her.

It was definitely a bold move on both of their parts but especially the Persian who was still the refugee, the one who would be twice as targeted for it, the one who would take all of the blunt force and trauma as the news would roll in more and more about the revolution.

Gigi was in utter heaven knowing that she had no restrictions as long as they were alone or decently private and away from everyone else though Crystal caught on rather quickly and it was only natural Jan was told, the blonde smiled wide and gasped the minute the other had told her over the phone.

They giggled softly like high schoolers once again even if in the back of their head they knew that this was not a good idea for either Gigi or Jackie.

Being in love.

Not just being in love but being in love with a refugee from Iran, being hopelessly devoted to Jackie who still had that ticket to Canada set in stone. Gigi attempted to simply convince herself that the eighties would be better and that all of Jackie’s internalized homophobia would eventually cease when the revolution died down.

It has to end eventually doesn’t it?

The American only hoped innocently for things to return as they were as she slowly engulfed herself more and more into the politics of Iran so Jackie would not feel so damn outcast and alone. She was not perfect but it was a step, one that the Persian beside her appreciated leaps and bounds.

Every endeavour together ended with a long and loving kiss before Gigi would become flustered and watch Jackie chuckle at the red speckles across her cheeks.

She awoke gently to mumbled newscasters going on and on about the current headlines as she realized she had fallen asleep on the couch by mistake. She wished she had fallen asleep with Jackie instead.

“I don’t care,” she groaned out as she took a sip from the already opened can of Pepsi that sat on the coffee table beside the arm of the brown couch. Her fingers tapped every button possible before she reached an international headline that made her eyes widen.

“Breaking news...On the morning after the Shah declared martial law, security forces fired on a large protest in Tehran’s Jaleh Square. At least 100 have been killed as the revolution continues…”

Gigi jumped up as she instantly raced for the door, not caring that she was still in her outfit from last night; Jackie was the only thing on her mind constantly but hearing the news only made her twice as ridden with horror not even being able to imagine what the Perisan felt.

Running down the field as she skipped a long to the complex beside her home did not feel one bit weird, she needed to see how Jackie was doing even in her dusty old dress from the night before where they had managed to make hummus, Gigi failing terribly though the Persian saved the day and made it delightful.

“It’s me,” the blonde yelled as she knocked twice on the wooden door, her lips unknowingly curling into a smile the moment she heard Jackie’s muffled talking from the other side. The door opened as the Persian smiled gently, her eyes utterly red and stained with tears.

She definitely knows what happened.

The Persian pulled her friend into her current home as she sniffled, hands on her hips as Gigi tugged her sleeves and opened her arms. Jackie grinned with a snicker as she felt herself happily drop

“I ran down the hallway as soon as I heard,” she admitted in a faint mumble as Jackie kissed her lips, not wanting to even think about what was currently going on. Gigi was her favourite distraction from her own issues and problems, she would use that to her advantage.

The blonde smirked, always happy to kiss the Persian even if it was more for personal reasons than to be romantic. Her hands dropped down to her waist as she enjoyed the impromptu make out session as best as she could.

Jackie hummed, admitting that this had been an awful day but somehow Gigi managed to take all of the pain away. It was a harsh reality that the Persian had to live with but somehow her happiness came perfectly on time in the form of a slightly shorter, blonde biker with the cutest smile and best one liners.

“I’m convinced we can solve world peace by just kissing quietly,” the Persian smiled as Gigi cackled, nodding her head at the statement.

“Kissing you is like heaven, what can I say?” Gigi mumbled against her lips as Jackie grinned slightly, never one to reject a kiss from her the blonde. Her fingers gently ran through her hair, twirling strands of the curls as the Persian wrapped her arms around her neck.

It was always going to be difficult for Jackie to take in all of these strong, new feelings towards the blonde for multiple reasons but she was simply attempting to win the war against herself and her own preconceived notions.

Just because I am in love with a woman does not make me any less of a human being or any less of a Persian.

They sat on Jackie’s bed together, listening to the birds who chirped outside on the trees as the both of them were silent, tangled together and holding each other.

“Do you want to go riding together? I can take you for some very overpriced, very mediocre ice cream,” Gigi asked against her skin as Jackie couldn’t help but smile wide and nod her head, entranced.

“I would love to.”

— *.✧

“This is quite nice, do you really find it that awful?” Jackie asked curiously as she licked her pistachio ice cream beside the blonde who seemed to instantaneously devour her mint chocolate chip ice cream in the span of three minutes.

“I think it’s fine just not worth ten dollars but consider this a date,” she winked as the two rubbed shoulders, strolling down the neverending beach and sand that plagued the coastline.

Jackie shrugged, gently beginning to bite her cone curiously as she sighed in relief. She had never lived near a beach her entire life so being near a beach felt like a privilege.

“Do you come here often? The weather is quite lovely, I am surprised no one else is here besides us and the one woman we saw a few minutes ago,” Jackie asked aloud before Gigi shook her head, admitting that Hollywood Beach was never of interest to her unless Crystal and Jan wanted to spend the day in the water or attempt to surf.

“I have never been a huge beach person and I was born at the hospital in Long Beach, a coastal city we have here in the state; the utter irony.”

The Persian sighed in relief as she stared out at the open ocean, wandering if her family was okay as Gigi pressed a kiss to her neck, interlocking their hands tightly as Jackie nervously shook her head, clasping her own hands together.

“Jackie…”

“Not in public,” she whispered, the blonde sighed as she knew that from the beginning it was Jackie’s biggest rule and fear. Gigi beating up and stabbing the two men outside the grocery store a few days ago did not help this sentiment.

“I love you,” she mumbled quietly as the waves crashed onto the shore, their feet becoming wet with the cold Pacific ocean beneath them as Jackie mouthed the words back not skipping a beat.

The Middle Eastern woman stared off into the distance, finding herself stuck in a constant day dream about being back home in Iran, even with the ongoing revolution and then the fantasy of staying in California with Gigi and living the rest of her life by her side.

They spent another two hours laughing aloud on the beach and strolling aimlessly before the heat became unbearable and they wanted to leave and go back to an air conditioned room.

“Do you want to spend the night with me?” Jackie asked out of the blue as they made their way back to Gigi’s motorcycle. The blonde smirked, knowing exactly what that would entail as she nodded heavily.

“That would be perfect,” She added as Jackie hopped up on the bike behind her, arms once again around her back tightly as Gigi took off for the ride back home.

Jackie attempted to focus on all the palm trees or the colorful buildings that molded her vision of California however nothing was being played except that damn headline.

Over and over.

Slowly the revolution grew not only more violent but to a larger international scale, she had to see the news from American outlets and not her own family though Jackie assumed hearing it from home would only be worse.

She had not yet gotten the chance to call her family but planned to do so the next time they went out early or late at night, time zone conversions had become the biggest bitch of all.

Jackie felt lost, she knew Gigi was attempting to at least get a grip on politics and stay informed on the revolution but it did not feel the same as speaking to her best friends or university classmates or family.

Everything she attempted to say felt lost in English, she felt five times dumber and knew that even though everyone complimented her consistently on her well spent degree and her skills in the language she was still the outsider.

Not just the outsider but the Persian outsider.

She was currently the butt of the joke, the insults were all directed her way and she simply had to keep a straight face against all of the accusations and comments.

"My mother didn't raise me to yell at uneducated street rats," she would tell Gigi as hecklers would pass by them on the streets, cussing out Jackie who definitely looked Persian enough to get long stares or subtle glances consistently.

And now, she wasn't just Persian she was a Persian in love with a woman.

Her lips were utterly sealed to her family when it came to the matter of Gigi and her current endeavour and relationship with the blonde.

She simply said that she had met some good American friends around her age that were helping her explore California.

Who knew I would be deep in exploring things besides America.

Jackie simply tried not to think about it though that always proved impossible considering her entire status and story in America was that she was a "helpless" refugee from Iran.

Crystal occasionally spoke to her in comfort, admitting that seeing her mother who had immigrated from Mexico to California almost two decades ago for a better life still being teased simply for being her the moment they left the comfort of Los Angeles or Hollywood was unbearable to hear.

I deserve to be here just as much as someone who was born here.

Gigi parked the motorcycle and turned off the ignition as she gently hopped off, holding Jackie's hand as she dusted down the red romper Crystal had gifted her with a smile.

"You look good in that, so much better than Crystal did," the blonde flirted as Jackie snickered, unable to hold back her laughter upon hearing the comment.

Almost as if on cue the two of them saw the redhead in the distance, across Gigi's house waving in her floral printed Hawiian shirt as Jackie gestured her over.

The blonde cocked a brow, a bit disappointed that they wouldn't be alone as planned though she couldn't possibly complain if their company was her best friend.

"You look so great," Crystal chirped as she adjusted the sleeves for the Persian girl, Gigi grinned in utter heaven staring at Jackie as the redhead snapped her best friend out of the trance.

"We get it you think Jackie is hot," she groaned aloud quietly as the blonde rolled her eyes, punching her shoulder teasingly as Jackie gave a bright smile and pushed her hair back.

"So lovebirds, are you going back to Jackie's place to hang?"

"That was the plan."

Jackie nodded before asking if Crystal would like to join them for some drinks and food for at least an hour or two.

"So polite, I love it," Crystal winked before Gigi coughed wildly, feeling her jealous side begin to peak as she watched the redhead make an attempt to flirt.

Jackie shushed Gigi as the Mexican girl admitted that she could stay for an hour but no more because she had some more work to do for the recreational center.

"Oh shut up, my dad loves you, he's not going to care if you take a few hours off especially not with me."

Admitting defeat, Crystal raised her arms and laughed as she followed the couple back to Jackie's place. The three of them shuffled towards the hallway before the Persian gently opened the door and let Crystal and Gigi enter first, snagging a kiss from the blonde as she walked through the doorway.

"Would you like anything to drink or eat Crystal?" Jackie asked as she opened the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila that Gigi had managed to steal from the grocery store a few days ago.

"Your girlfriend is so wonderful Gigi," she teased obnoxiously before giving a thumbs up at the tequila bottle. The blonde scoffed, kissing Jackie's forehead as she grabbed the glasses.

"I've never seen Gigi so speechless, I'm so impressed Jackie," the younger woman admitted as the Persian heard Gigi mumble something along the lines of "I'm speechless every night you just don't get to hear it."

Crystal laughed as Jackie gently grabbed her lover's chin, whispering at her in Farsi to stop speaking so dirty in front of her own friend; somehow expecting for Gigi to understand a lick of what she was saying.

"I don't know what you said but I'm completely turned on right now," she whispered as they pressed their lips together, grinning wildly as Jackie gave Crystal the tequila bottle.

"Cheers to being single!" She awkwardly added aloud as she shotgunned the tequila she had poured. Gigi frowned, defending her best friend and saying that eventually she would find someone.

"I thought I did but clearly she had other plans," Crystal admitted bitterly as Jackie widened her eyes in shock, a bit confused though both her and Gigi turned their attention to Crystal.

"Jaida is happy where she is now, I won't blame her or Jan," the minute the words left Crystal's lips Jackie gasped in shock.

"You and Jaida? I had no idea I'm so sorry," the Persian mumbled as she rubbed Crystal's shoulders for comfort.

"It was only a few months, don't worry about it, of course you had no idea obviously."

"I did not know about this either," Gigi replied a bit angry as Crystal bit her tongue anxiously in front of her best friend, apologising for the long held secret.

"So is that why you two were avoiding conversation at the rink?"

Crystal nodded in silence.

"You will find that person, your soulmate; trust me, it might be in the most unexpected situations," Jackie added sweetly as she smiled at Gigi, gazing at her lover towards the end of her sentence.

"Oh so I'm your soulmate? How romantic," Gigi mouthed as Jackie stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"I was really in love, what a shame." She hummed before adding that she and Jan had no bad blood about it, it was simply just a lost cause to fight about it at this point.

Jackie could understand, Jaida was extremely attractive and seemed sweet, grounded and intelligent and quite the catch especially for girls as bubbly and extroverted as Jan and Crystal.

"Never say never," Gigi hummed. "In my heart of hearts if you want the truth I still think she's in love with you and not Jan. Give it a solid month or two and I think she will realize that you're the one."

Crystal and Jackie looked beyond interested to how the blonde had come to that conclusion so quickly after just two minutes ago she said that Jan was Jaida's perfect match.

"I might love Jan and think they're cute but I saw her staring at you when you were skating, I'm not stupid."

Jackie ran a hand through her partner's hair as she offered Crystal some food she had prepared last night.

The redhead shook her head, attempting to hide the permanent frown painted across her face.

"No thank you, I'll stick to the alcohol."

— *.✧

Jackie smiled as she felt Gigi wrap her arms around her waist and pull her closer in the bed, the two of them beginning to become sleepy after all the physical activity they had just done to say the very least.

"You're perfect," Gigi mumbled as the Persian beside her flushed not knowing how to genuinely respond to a compliment of such high praise.

"I believe you are also perfect," Jackie finally responded as she ran her fingertip's through Gigi's long, blonde hair as she occasionally planted a kiss near her earlobe.

"So I'm your soulmate?" The American teased beside her before Jackie groaned, admitting that maybe it was a strong choice of words for them only being together for barely two weeks.

"It was beautiful, I almost teared up," Gigi admitted as she tilted Jackie's head back to her own so she could gaze into her eyes.

"My English improves bit by bit," she joked before Gigi shut her lips with another kiss, the two of them giddy and gently melting into every affectionate gesture.

"I hope you never leave," the blonde whispered as she laid her head on Jackie's bare chest with a permanent smile planted on her mouth as she closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

Jackie swallowed her breath, unable to even speak on the matter.

"Goodnight Gigi," she said as she turned off the lamp beside her before running her hands through her partner's hair once again, thinking about all that had managed to happen these past two weeks.

I have to leave but I will keep quiet about that for now.

#rpdr fanfiction #jackie cox #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jaida essence hall #jan sport #gigi x jackie #jaida x jan #crystal x jaida #song fic #lesbian au #seventies au #historical au #hotel california #roza #s12

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dinaxoxo · 5 years ago

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I love you early in the morning and it’s difficult to love you. I love the January sky and knowing it will change although unlike us. I love watching people read. I love photo booths. I love midnight. I love writing letters and this is my letter. To the world that never wrote to me. I love snow and briefly. I love the first minutes in a warm room after stepping out of the cold. I love my twenties and want them back every day. I love time. I love people. I love people and my time away from them the most. I love the part of my desk that’s darkened by my elbows. I love feeling nothing but relief during the chorus of a song. I love space. I love every planet. I love the big unknowns but need to know who called or wrote, who’s coming—if they want the same things I do, if they want much less. I love not loving Valentine’s Day. I love how February is the shortest month. I love that Barack Obama was president. I love the quick, charged time between two people smoking a cigarette outside a bar. I love everyone on Friday night. I love New York City. I love New York City a lot. I love that day in childhood when I thought I was someone else. I love wondering how animals perceive our daily failures. I love the lines in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof when Brick’s father says “Life is important. There’s nothing else to hold onto.” I love Brick. I love that we can fail at love and continue to live. I love writing this and not knowing what I’ll love next. I love looking at paintings and being reminded I am alive. I love Turner’s paintings and the sublime. I love the coming of spring even in the most withholding March. I love skipping anything casual—“hi, how are you, it’s been forever”—and getting straight to the center of pain. Or happiness. I love opening a window in a room. I love the feeling of possibility by the end of the first cup of coffee. I love hearing anyone listen to Nina Simone. I love Nina Simone. I love how we can choose our own families. I love when no one knows where I am but feel terrified to be forgotten. I love Saturdays. I love that despite our mistakes this will end. I love how people get on planes to New York and California. I love the hour after rain and the beginning of the cruelest month. I love imagining Weldon Kees on a secret island. I love the beach on a cloudy day. I love never being disappointed by chocolate. I love that morning when I was twenty and had just met someone very important (though I didn’t know it) and I walked down an almost empty State Street because it was still early and not at all late—and of course I could change everything (though I also didn’t know it)—I could find anyone, go anywhere, I wasn’t sorry for who I was. I love the impulse to change. I love seeing what we do with what we can’t change. I love the moon’s independent indifference. I love walking the same streets as Warhol. I love what losing something does but I don’t love losing it. I love how the past shifts when there’s more. I love kissing. I love hailing a cab and going home alone. I love being surprised by May although it happens every year. I love closing down anything—a bar, restaurant, party—and that time between late night and dawn when one lamp goes on wherever you are and you know. You know what you know even if it’s hard to know it. I love being a poet. I love all poets. I love Jim Morrison for saying, “I’d like to do a song or a piece of music that’s just a pure expression of joy, like a celebration of existence, like the coming of spring or the sun rising, just pure unbounded joy. I don’t think we’ve really done that yet.” I love everything I haven’t done. I love looking at someone without need or panic. I love the quiet of the trees in a new city. I love how the sky is connected to a part of us that understands something big and knows nothing about it too. I love the minutes before you’re about to see someone you love. I love any film that delays resolution. I love being in a cemetery because judgment can’t live there. I love being on a highway in June or anytime at all. I love magic. I love the zodiac. I love all of my past lives. I love that hour of the party when everyone’s settled into their discomfort and someone tells you something really important—in passing—because it’s too painful any other way. I love the last moments before sleep. I love the promise of summer. I love going to the theater and seeing who we are. I love glamour—shamelessly—and all glamour. Which is not needed to live but shows people love life. What else is it there for? Why not ask for more? I love red shoes. I love black leather. I love the grotesque ways in which people eat ice cream—on sidewalks, alone—however they need it, whenever they feel free enough. I love being in the middle of a novel. I love how mostly everyone in Jane Austen is looking for love. I love July and its slowness. I love the idea of liberation and think about it all the time. I love imagining a world without money. I love imagining a life with enough money to write when I want. I love standing in front of the ocean. I love that sooner or later we forget even “the important things.” I love how people write in the sand, on buildings, on paper. Their own bodies. Fogged mirrors. Texts they’ll draft but never send. I love silence. I love owning a velvet cape and not knowing how to cook. I love that instant when an arc of light passes through a room and I’m reminded that everything really is moving. I love August and its sadness. I love Sunday for that too. I love jumping in a pool and how somewhere on the way up your body relaxes and accepts the shock of the water. I love Paris for being Paris. I love Godard’s films. I love anyplace that makes room for loneliness. I love how the Universe is 95% dark matter and energy and somewhere in the rest of it there is us. I love bookstores and the autonomy when I’m in one. I love that despite my distrust in politics I am able to vote. I love wherever my friends are. I love voting though know art and not power is what changes human character. I love what seems to me the discerning indifference of cats. I love the often uncomplicated joy of dogs. I love Robert Lax for living alone. I love the extra glass of wine happening somewhere, right now. I love schools and teachers. I love September and how we see it as a way to begin. I love knowledge. Even the fatal kind. Even the one without “use value.” I love getting dressed more than getting undressed. I love mystery. I love lighting candles. I love religious spaces though I’m sometimes lost there. I love the sun for worshipping no one. I love the sun for showing up every day. I love the felt order after a morning of errands. I love walking toward nowhere in particular and the short-lived chance of finding something new. I love people who smile only when moved to. I love that a day on Venus lasts longer than a year. I love Whitman for writing, “the fever of doubtful news, the fitful events; / These come to me days and nights and go from me again, / But they are not the Me myself.” I love October when the veil between worlds is thinnest. I love how at any moment I could forgive someone from the past. I love the wind and how we never see it. I love the performed sincerity in pornography and wonder if its embarrassing transparency is worth adopting in other parts of life. I love how magnified emotions are at airports. I love dreams. Conscious and unconscious. Lived and not yet. I love anyone who risks their life for their ideal one. I love Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera. I love how people make art even in times of impossible pain. I love all animals. I love ghosts. I love that we continue to invent meaning. I love the blue hours between three and five when Plath wrote Ariel. I love that despite having one body there are many ways to live. I love November because I was born there. I love people who teach children that most holidays are a product of capitalism and have little to do with love—which would never celebrate massacre—which would never care about money or greed. I love people who’ve quit their jobs to be artists. I love you for reading this as opposed to anything else. I love the nostalgia of the future. I love that the tallest mountain in our solar system is safe and on Mars. I love dancing. I love being in love with the wrong people. I love that on November 23, 1920, Virginia Woolf wrote, “We have bitten off a large piece of life—but why not? Did I not make out a philosophy some time ago which comes to this—that one must always be on the move?” I love how athletes believe in the body and know it will fail them. I love dessert for breakfast. I love all of the dead. I love gardens. I love holding my breath under water. I love whoever it is untying our shoes. I love that December is summer in Australia. I love statues in a downpour. I love how no matter where on the island, at any hour, there’s at least one lit square at the top or bottom of a building in Manhattan. I love diners. I love that the stars can’t be touched. I love getting in a car and turning the keys just to hear music. I love ritual. I love chance too. I love people who have quietly survived being misunderstood yet remain kids. And yes, I love that Marilyn Monroe requested Judy Garland’s “Over the Rainbow” to be played at her funeral. And her casket was lined in champagne satin. And Lee Strasberg ended his eulogy by saying, “I cannot say goodbye. Marilyn never liked goodbyes, but in the peculiar way she had of turning things around so that they faced reality, I will say au revoir.” I love the different ways we have of saying the same thing. I love anyone who cannot say goodbye

Alex Dimitrov “Love”

#alex dimitrov #love #personal #poetry

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kseniasobchakxox · 4 years ago

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2020’S Best CBD Pain Creams & Topicals

Nowadays, CBD merchandise can be found all over our culture. Since President Trump signed the 2018 Farm Bill, it has been legal to buy and sell industrial hemp throughout the United States. After all, CBD that stems from hemp is not the same as marijuana derived CBD. While each product comes from cannabis, hemp has less than 0.3% THC, which is not enough to give a person the euphoric high often associated with mary jane. Yet, CBD items, such as creams and topicals made from hemp still allows folks to manage their stress, relaxing their minds and bodies.

“No pain, no gain,” right? No, not anymore. Now what we are in a new decade, there is no reason that men and women cannot or should not take full advantage of the top CBD creams and topicals to comfort any and all suffering. Whether you have been exercising for hours or your body is just getting stiff from sitting on the sofa for too long, the best CBD pain cream available can be a lifesaver when it comes to eliminating soreness.

Not only can the powerful pain cream put an aching body at ease, but CBD also helps people manage everyday stressors, from dealing with unruly children and traffic jams on the highway to handling rude customers and ungrateful coworkers. Every day, various CBD products are helping individuals through long days at the office when keeping a positive frame of mind is often easier said than done. Fortunately, depending on the top CBD cream can make all the difference in the world.

To get the most out of calming CBD cream for pain, you simply apply it whenever necessary to a broken bone or an arthritis-stricken hip. The time of day the cream is put on makes no difference, whether it is after your morning shower, during your lunch break or when you climb into bed. Regardless of the time of day or the last time you ate, CBD pain cream is exceptionally soothing.

1 Just CBD Pain Cream

Since opening their doors for business back in 2017, JustCBD has grown into the most recognized provider of powerful CBD products for sale, including the best CBD cream for pain. Operating out of the Fort Lauderdale area in South Florida, the company has a top notch reputation for selling the most effective CBD treats for the lowest prices. At the same time, the staff is known for being open and honest with both their long-term customers and potential buyers. According to countless reviews found on the internet, JustCBD representatives are continually polite, while making knowledgeable and helpful suggestions.

Made with nothing but the finest natural oils supplied by Mother Earth, including aloe and comforting coconut oil. the cream is completely organic. Ensuring those with skin or smell sensitivities can take advantage of the Just CBD cream, there are no fragrances added. Now available in 100 mg and 250 mg containers for $20 and $40 respectively, JustCBD Pain Cream is said to be the most soothing ointment on the market. In fact, it’s the cream of the crop.

Just CBD also sells cooling CBD Roll-On cream for fast pain relief in 200 mg and 350 mg options for around $40 and $48 respectively. After applying the top CBD cream for pain onto your skin, it immediately increases blood flow to all applied areas. This affect can be marvelous for helping ease tension throughout the body. The minty scent and icy sensation released by the roller ball helps a person feel totally revitalized, while a user’s frame of mind will become completely laid back.

On top of the best CBD oil cream for pain, JustCBD is known to sell everything from the top gummies and oil tinctures to vape pens and bath bombs. A buyer can even pick up some yummy CBD treats for dogs and cats. All of Just CBD’s hemp-based merchandise is made in the U.S. and ships around the world. That means the cannabis doesn’t have enough THC to give a user a psychoactive high. Too bad the THC-rich CBD goodies that stem from marijuana can’t say the same. Meanwhile, everything created and sold at JustCBD is laboratory tested to ensure consumer safety.

Check out Just CBD Pain Cream today.

2 Charlotte’s Web Hemp Infused Topical Cream

Besides JustCBD, Charlotte’s Web is perhaps the most popular company that sells cannabidiol goods. Offering merchandise grown and sold in Boulder, Colorado, Charlotte’s Web offers full spectrum hemp infused cream created with a nourishing extract that includes vitamin B5, aloe and coconut oil. Buyers can choose between the Soothing Scent and Unscented hemp infused cream.

Both men and women tend to like the Charlotte’s Web hemp infused cream. It seems to be great at softening itchy skin. Yet, Charlotte’s Web’s topical feels extremely thick compared to more oil based lotions people use on their hands and feet. Some folks think it is too thick and greasy because it takes a while to dry. After 45 minutes or so, rough and dry patches feel nice and smooth. Skin then stays nice and soft for hours at a time. Even aching feet become manageable. Reviews on the web also claim that the hemp infused cream has a faint, but pleasurable smell. Both men and women appreciate that it doesn’t possess a menthol scent, unlike many topical creams out there.

A 2.5 oz tube 750 mg of hemp extract sells for $49.99 on the Charlotte’s Web business website. Each tube has 300 mg of hemp per oz. The site says that everything it sells is laboratory tested. However, consumers like me can’t find any info on such testing. Is it done in-house or sent out to a third party lab? Of course, curious buyers can always call their phone number or submit an email, but who has the time or patience? Buyers have to use the batch numbers on their products to gain online entry to such information. But that access only comes with a purchase. Doh! Why doesn’t Charlotte’s Web share the lab results on the packaging or the internet?

3 PureKana Topical CBD Ointment

Another leader in the CBD industry is PureKana. Located in Scottsdale, Arizona, the company has been around since 2017. They made a name for themselves selling potent oil tinctures grown on farms in Kentucky. Pure Kana’s original mission was to help men and women, including senior citizens, cope with all the stressors of their daily lives. Today, the goal of PureKana’s topical ointment is to get into a person’s skin to give a hydrating, refreshing feeling.

Supposedly, the CBD product successfully moisturizes and rejuvenates users’ skin, in addition to enhancing its elasticity and inner-cell walls. Redness and inflammation can be significantly decreased. Buyers claim it is convenient and easy to use too. I particularly like the fact that PureKana only uses organically grown hemp from the U.S. Pure Kana then uses their own technology and CO2 in its extraction process to make their CBD ointment with a precise amount of THC. Apparently, there are no toxins, like fertilizers and pesticides, in their CBD goodies. It’s also cool that everything is tested in a third party laboratory.

A 3.4 oz bottle of Pure Kana topical ointment with 600 mg of CBD sells on the internet for $80. Personally, I like the fact that Pure Kana only works with certified companies, and that everything they sell is tested at a third party laboratory. Online customers appreciate the 30 day satisfaction guarantee. Consumer feedback likes the fact that anyone can see certificates and laboratory reports on the business website. It looks like PureKana meets all of the government’s requirements and industry standards. Of course, there are a few negative opinions too. Some buyers feel Pure Kana’s topical isn’t as effective as many of its competitors, especially for its high price. Users have even complained about figuring out the right amount of ointment they are supposed to apply to their skin.

4 Green Roads Topical Creams

Headquartered in Deerfield Beach, Florida, Green Roads has operated as a successful family business since 2013. It all began when a pharmacist, Laura Baldwin Fuentes went on a mission to create a cure for a friend’s addition to opiates, not to be confused with opioids. Her mission was a success and she now works as CEO of Green Roads. A wide variety of the award winning company’s broad spectrum formulas are now found in doctors’ offices, fitness centers, yoga studios and retail shops across the nation. Consumers can also shop for Green Roads’ topical cream on the internet.

Some of the selling points for Green Road’s creams is that they are all made from non GMO hemp that is grown in the U.S. I also like Green Roads’ undeniable transparency, as they share plenty of information about its modern extraction process on their website. A visitor like me experiences no trouble finding important information, including QR codes that link to online lab reports from a third party, on each of their CBD products for sale. In fact, a visitor can find lab sheets to go with all of the merchandise. At the same time, everything is tested by a third party. The biggest problem for Green Roads’ topicals seems to be the high prices. Folks have also complained about rude customer service representatives and poor packaging.

A buyer can choose from Green Roads’ 150 mg and 300 mg in 1 oz containers of Soothing CBD Topical pain cream for about $35 and $63 respectively. While the pieces of CBD are a bit expensive, there’s simply not enough “bang for your buck” there. At least Green Roads guarantees their retail goods. They also sell CBD infused Muscle & Joint Heat Relief Cream with 250 mg and 500 mg of CBD for about $49 and $70 respectively.

5 Lord Jones High CBD Formula Body Lotion

Lord Jones High Formula Body Lotion from Southern California has been marketing their CBD merchandise as deluxe and classy since 2016. The hemp-derived lotion is supposedly rich enough to fight off redness in both dry and oily skin. Made by a knowledgeable team of professionals, Lord Jones’ CBD Body Lotion is made with broad spectrum CBD oil. Besides soothing CBD, the ingredients include vitamin-rich shea butter and zero gluten or alcohol. The body lotion is also vegan. A buyer can relax knowing that every ointment sold by Lord Jones is created in the United States and lab tested.

It is meant for individuals to hydrate dry skin, whether it is in the palms of their hands, on their bellies or the bottom of their feet after wearing high heels all day. According to feedback on the web, it allegedly helps skin get back to normal after baking in the sun for hours and even fights off painful cuticles. People appreciate the Lord Jones cream for minimizing small pains of irritated skin at the heels of their feet. You know, the aches that sink in after you’ve been standing up all day. Individuals rub the lotion and it feels like Lidocaine with a damp odor. That’s why some folks claim to use it for neck pain as well. As far as negative critiques for Lord Jones’ CBD body lotion, internet reviews discuss its ineffectiveness for deep tissue pain.

A 1.69 oz bottle of Lord Jones High Formula Body Lotion with 50 ml of CBD costs $60. Every pump releases 1 ml of lotion carrying 2 mg of CBD. A buyer can choose the fragrance free or the signature fragrance with hints of sage, mint and green citrus. It may be chic, but folks end up spending big money on nothing more than a mediocre product with extravagant packaging.

6 Fab CBD Topical CBD Cream

Located in Tampa with offices in the U.K., Fab CBD has been earning a name for themselves in the completive cannabidiol business since 2018. As a team, they have a combined 25 years of experience in the health, fitness and supplement industries. Their CBD pain cream is produced with full spectrum hemp extract to minimize joint and muscle pain. Everything is created naturally on a farm in Colorado.

The Fab CBD website has plenty of good information. It contains all the data that a potential or repeat buyer would search for. I also like the content on Fab CBD’s business site, as you’d expect from a company that only sells three products, its CBD topical cream, edibles and tincture oil. Rather than trying to impress readers with scientific lingo and big words that are hard to follow, it feels like the writer is just telling me the information I am curious about. A visitor can easily click on a photo of the label to read all the ingredients, from aloe vera leaf extract and vitamin E to CO2 extracted hemp oil. The site also has plenty of photos shared by real buyers. I like that. It makes the CBD merchandise feel real, as I see people like me using the pain cream.

A 2 oz container with 600 mg of CBD oil runs for $49, and the only flavor I could find on their site is Fresh. At least its organic. According to their website, the cream is three times stronger than the average cream for pain relief. I don’t think so. The site also claims the topical ointment has a shelf life of 365 days, as long as you keep it unopened and away from extreme heat, cold and moisture. Again, I wouldn’t trust any cream in a jar that can be left open for 12 months.

7 Premium Jane Topicals

Since opening their doors in Los Angeles back in 2018, Premium Jane has become one of the major players in the CBD game. Using hemp from Oregon farms and operating out of Arizona, Premium Jane now stocks a large supply of CBD oils, CBD capsules, CBD gummies and CBD bath bombs, along with topicals. The CBD topicals are meant to be massaged into the skin. By doing so, you are administering the CBD in a fast and effective way, and you never have to worry about the pain cream being exposed to your digestive system.

As an avid shopper of CBD goodies, I know how to spot quality merchandise. For instance, I appreciate that everything sold by Premium Jane made is with various parts of the hemp plant. Sometimes it is the leaves and stalk, while other times it is the flower. That’s why the color of the cream sometimes varies. Who cares, as long as the moisturizing components assist with ongoing hydration for a user’s dry and/or damaged skin? You can rest assured that there are no fertilizers or pesticides in the cream.

There are two CBD creams for sale on Premium Jane’s business website. First, the 1500 mg of Cocoa Butter CBD Topical Salve is priced at $125, while the 750 mg of Eucalyptus cream runs for $75. The prices are not as high as Green Roads or Lord Jones, but the praise isn’t as consistent as Just CBD. It’s too bad that I couldn’t find much customer feedback on Premium Topicals. But that’s to be expected from any new company, whether they are selling powerful CBD ointments, athletic shoes or pogo sticks. At least consumers can feel safe knowing that everything is tested for both quality and safety at ProVerde Labs. In fact, there are laboratory results posted on the business website.

8 CBDfx CBD Topical Creams

CBDfx can already be considered veterans of the game, as the Southern California company has been in business since 2015. Selling natural hemp grown in the United States, they stock everything from CBD vape juice, gummies, drinks, waxes and tinctures to CBD treats for pets and topical creams. It is all produced on modern farms in Kentucky with their own line of CBD oil. All of CBDfx’s creams are meant to prolong the life of amino acids and natural vitamins in a user’s skin.

CBDfx markets their recognizable cannabidiol creams as pharmacist formulated, thanks to the inventor’s previous profession. I was immediately eerie because the last thing I want in my CBD merchandise is pharmaceuticals. Upon further investigation I realized that the topicals are made with quality CO2 extracted CBD, along with other organic ingredients, like plant derived caffeine to stimulate blood flow for faster results. The white willow bark extract acts as an anti-inflammatory. There is also menthol extracted from the mint plant that can dull irritated skin, while leaving a faint but refreshing menthol smell. Supposedly, the ointment moisturizes and nourishes the skin without making it greasy.

The price of CBDfx topicals are rather reasonable. A 50 ml bottle (1.7 oz) with 150 mg of full spectrum CBD is $39.99 online, and a 30 ml (1 oz) bottle of 100 mg full spectrum CBD is $29.99. Consumers appreciate CBDfx’s quality customer service, as well as their wide range of products that ship free anywhere in the nation. The harshest feedback that people can read on the internet is that CBDfx’s topicals only last 3 hours or so at a time, but the company instructs users to apply it every 4 to 6 hours. Why even bother when you can just buy a CBD topical that actually works for 5 hours or more.

9 Highland Pharms CBD Therapy+ Hemp Lotion and Cream

Despite the name, Highland Pharms’ CBD Therapy+ Hemp Lotion is made with natural ingredients. So why do they use the word “Pharm” in the title? It’s to stress the point that is uses rather high levels of CBD. Okay, whatever works. Apparently, something is working, considering Highland Pharms has been in business since 2015. With retail locations in the state of Washington, the company uses nothing but organically grown hemp from Colorado. Supposedly, all of Highland Pharms’ CBD goodies are extremely strong, thanks to their own hemp extract.

As a consumer, I was a bit bothered by the thought of purchasing CBD lotion with pharmaceuticals in it. But I quickly got over it. Then the big problem was finding information on the product. If there are no pharmaceuticals, then what is the CBD Cream made of? I consider myself pretty handy with Google, but I still couldn’t find any information online to show me that the lotion it is not a pharmaceutical medicine. Also, all of the little misspellings on their business website annoyed a writer like me. My professors would have a fit if they ever read the Highland Pharms site. At least all of their CBD cream is professionally tested for heavy metals or potentially harmful pesticides by ProVerde. This allows buyers to feel safe, unlike when they purchase CBD goods from China, if not a stranger on eBay.

A 2 oz jar of Highland Pharms CBD Therapy+ Hemp Cream with 100 mg sells for about $40 on the internet. 200 mg of the CBD Therapy+ Cream is almost $60. Meanwhile, a 4 oz bottle of Therapy+ Extra Hemp Lotion with 400 mg of CBD costs $59.95, and an 8 oz bottle with 800 mg of CBD is $89.95. Ouch! From everything I could find, Highland Pharms CBD lotions and creams simply do not justify paying such high prices.

10 cbdMD CBD Topicals

Sticking the same pharmaceutical-like name that I don’t care for, cbdMD CBD has been operating out of Charlotte, North Carolina since 2019. Before picking the ideal location to build their plant, they visited 14 different countries on three continents before choosing the best climate for growing hemp twelve months a year. cbdMD’s hemp-derived Revive CBD Topicals are now available in three different types. Everything is vegan, non GMO and are created with broad spectrum CBD containing no THC whatsoever. Various sizes of cbdMD’s comes in either a tub or a squeeze bottle.

For starters, there is cbdMD’s Recover inflammation formula, along with CBD Freeze rollers and squeeze bottles. The CBD Revive Squeeze is a thick moisturizing lotion that is made with organic material, such as aloe vera and coconut oil, that is great for dry, inflamed skin. Reducing redness and swelling, CBD Revive can be used on things like burns, bruises and irritated skin, but not on open sores. cbdMD’s CBD Revive Squeeze is available in three different strengths, 300 mg in a 2 oz bottle for $29.99, while both the $69.99 750 mg and $99.99 1500 mg are available in a 4 oz container. What I appreciate about cbdMD’s products is their natural ingredients, including acai berry, rice bran, and shea butter.

Online feedback mentions that the creams take only 5 to 10 minutes to moisturize the skin and can last up to 6 hours at a time. The smell has hints of cinnamon, peppermint and citrus. Buyers also mention that cbdMD’s goods are neither thick nor greasy. Everything is grown in the U.S. and third party tested for quality. Unfortunately for cbdMD, the internet is packed with negative reviews. Customers complain about various problems, including ineffective merchandise, rude customer service reps, lost Fed Ex packages that will not be refunded and receiving items without batch numbers.

Want to know more about the top CBD pain creams? Discover some of the most frequently asked questions…

IS IT LEGAL TO BUY CBD CREAM FOR PAIN?

Yes, it is now 100% legal to purchase CBD pain cream in all 50 United States, thanks to the 2018 federal Farm Bill. A consumer just has to make sure that his or her CBD goods stem from hemp, as opposed to marijuana. By definition, hemp has a THC level of 0.3% or less. On the other hand, mary jane contains more THC, enough to give a user the psychoactive high that most folks associate with pot. That’s exactly why CBD from marijuana isn’t legal across the nation, as opposed to hemp products, which are known to be smarter and safer for users.

WHAT ARE THE BENEFITS OF CBD CREAM?

To begin, CBD is a strong antioxidant. That means CBD cream can protect skin from free radicals and UV rays that cause both aging and illness. At the same time, CBD can interact with the cannabinoid receptors in a person’s skin to help the healing process. In other words, CBD can be rather effective in managing everything from dry skin and acne to daily stressors. Hemp derived CBD topicals consist of several nutrients, including vitamins, minerals, fatty acids and protein that assist with repairing damaging skin. Oil production then becomes restricted, leaving skin feeling nice and tight, as well as soft and smooth.

IS EVERY CBD PAIN CREAM ON THE MARKET THE SAME?

No, all of the different CBD products for sale, including pain creams and topicals, are not created equal. For starters, a buyer must depend on CBD merchandise that is made domestically in the United States and laboratory tested. If not, you could end up paying big money for a useless lotion that won’t do anything but make your skin greasy. It may help for consumers to read different reviews, articles and blogs online related to the best CBD goods available. Remember, just because an item works well for one buyer, it may not have the same positive affect on your skin.

WHAT’S THE SMARTEST WAY TO GET CBD EVERYDAY?

There is no one “best way to take CBD,” as every individual’s system is different. CBD merchandise that works wonderfully on one person may be completely ineffective on another. That’s why it is always important to experiment. There are literally countless individuals who rely on various CBD products on a daily basis, including gummies, vape oil pens, bath bombs, tinctures and more. While one guy may like using a 350 mg CBD roll on, his neighbor may prefer applying a 250 mg CBD infused pain cream to get rid of soreness and achy skin.

WHAT SHOULD YOU SEARCH FOR WHEN BUYING CBD PAIN CREAM?

When the time comes to purchase real CBD cream for pain, it is always smart to know what to look for. For starters, make sure your safety is covered by confirming the CBD product is laboratory tested and made in the U.S. Then you can read labels to make sure every ingredient is organic. When it comes to purity, effectiveness and potency, many buyers read professional blogs, along with customer feedback on the web to figure out the top CBD pain creams that are now available.

HOW DO I CHOOSE THE RIGHT CBD CREAM FOR PAIN?

When looking to buy CBD pain cream, it is wise to know what you are looking for, like how many milligrams of CBD you want in your product. If you are a first time user of CBD goods, it is best to start out slowly. You can try 100 mg of CBD infused pain cream and work your way up to a stronger option, such as 250 mg of CBD. A consumer can also use a CBD roll on, whether it is a 200 mg or a 350 mg option.

HOW MUCH CBD PAIN CREAM SHOULD I USE?

While there is no one ideal dose, it is recommended that a first time user starts off slowly by applying a little CBD pain cream anywhere on his or her body. It is suggested that people place a little amount, half the size of a nickel, to the sore or dry parts of their skin. Then they should thoroughly simply rub it in with their fingertips and wash their hands. The CBD skin cream can be reapplied whenever necessary. To figure out exactly how much CBD cream and how often to apply it to your skin, it is always best to rely on a little trial and error.

WHERE SHOULD I APPLY CBD PAIN CREAM?

Cannabis has been used to manage painful skin conditions around the world for centuries. Today, all types of CBD creams, lotions, ointments and salves are applied directly to painful and problematic area of people’s skin. Unlike CBD gummies, protein bars and other edibles, you should never put the cream in your mouth. Thankfully, applying the topicals directly to damaged skin causes the CBD to be absorbed incredibly fast. The best CBD products have multiple uses, such as helping with muscle pain, joint swelling, inflammatory skin conditions, psoriasis, dermatitis, rashes and bacterial infections.

CAN I USE CBD PAIN CREAM ON MY FACE?

Yes, a person can use CBD cream on his or her face. High quality CBD cream is created to hydrate dry and sensitive skin, regardless of what part of the body it is used on. The top CBD creams for pain relief can help with everything from burns and irritations to itchy rashes and bug bites. Whether it is after a man shaves or when a woman returns from tanning at the beach, simply apply a small amount the targeted area on the face and add more CBD cream when needed. Don’t worry, it’s not like you can overdose on legal CBD cream.

DO CBD PAIN CREAMS HAVE SIDE EFFECTS?

Like all CBD products, the pain creams are generally safe for the human body and any side effects are minimal. The CBD merchandise contains a small amount of THC, but not enough to make a person feel high. Of course, it is still wise to test a little bit of the CBD cream on your skin before applying a hefty amount. Although rare, allergic reactions have occurred from time to time. Even if someone does experience an allergic reaction, it may not be from the cannabinoids. Rather, some CBD pain creams possess additives that cause unwanted reactions to the skin. As long as your CBD is completely organic, you shouldn’t have any problems using it on your skin.

DOES CBD PAIN CREAM HAVE TO BE LABORATORY TESTED?

Yes, it is very important that you only buy CBD pain cream that has undergone third party laboratory testing. The overall quality of different CBD products often varies. One retailer may only sell the best CBD merchandise, while another vendor can simply dress up cheap lotion in fancy packaging. One’s overall safety can even become a concern, as there are no government regulations. That is why it is so important that you only buy quality CBD goods with third party testing and their ingredients listed. Simply by reading online reviews, you should be able to tell which companies are reliable.

DOES HEMP DERIVED CBD HAVE THE SAME EFFECTS AS CBD FROM MARIJUANA?

No, hemp derived CBD is not the same as CBD from marijuana, even if they both come from the cannabis plant. By definition, marijuana has at least 0.3% THC, and hemp contains less than 0.3%. That means there is not enough THC in hemp to intoxicate users or to give them the psychoactive high that is commonly used for recreational purposes. In other words, you can enjoy the same marvelous benefits of marijuana without impairing your mind or body. Cheech and Chong may not think it’s cool, but using CBD products from hemp is a win-win.

CAN CBD PAIN CREAM SHOW UP IN A DRUG TEST?

While it is unlikely, there is always a possibility that CBD will appear on a drug test, whether it is from a skin cream, an edible or a vape pen. A majority of employers only test for marijuana, rather than CBD. While they both stem from the same cannabis plant, only marijuana has enough THC to make a user high. Regardless if the test is performed on your hair, mouth or urine, you may want to use caution if you may be subject to any type of drug test. Even the smoothest skin imageable can be a disappointment when you’re standing on the unemployment line.

HOW MANY DAYS WILL CBD STAY IN A USER’S BLOOD?

Generally speaking, CBD stays in a person’s blood for five or six days. It doesn’t make much of a difference if the CBD is rubbed into the body as a skin cream, through an oil tincture, vaporizer or as an edible, it all gets flushed out in roughly the same amount of time. Keep in mind that time can increase all the way up to ten days for regular users of CBD products. Still, the time that CBD can be seen in your system is minimal when compared to marijuana that can last about 30 days at a time.

#cbd #hemp #cbd cream #cbd pain cream #cbd blog #cbd blogger #ksenia sobchak

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the-end-of-art · 5 years ago

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Two persimmons, getting old

The Coat by EJ Koh

My mother’s regular department store was 32 floors tall. Thirty-two floors of luxury goods in Bundang, Seoul, each department happy to accept her credit cards gifted by my father’s company. Beyond the department store’s three golden, rotating entrance doors were playrooms, cafés, movie theaters, designer stores, and wedding halls. The floors above were divided into beauty, clothing, home, electronics, and books. In the basement, the discount and returns section of the store, paper won passed between shoppers and clerks. Nearby, nuptials from the hall; gunfire from the cinema.

My mother told me to call the girls working the clothing floor sisters. They greeted my mother with high, zesty voices ringing around the endless corners. The girls wore navy blue suit jackets with stiff collars and navy blue skirts and heels. Every hair was waxed, combed into a bun; every lip a bright red. The girls wore clean white gloves to handle expensive items. They turned their wrists in dove-winged gestures to direct my mother ahead, offering her a reduced price on a “hot item” bag and complimentary face masks. They said to her, “Hello again, dear customer” and “Please ask us anything” and “Come in, take your time” and “Welcome to our store” and “We have everything you’re looking for.”

I barely stood on both feet, instead shifting my weight from one to the other, and I slouched. When the girls bowed to me, their mouths could not hide their apprehension at my wrestling shoes and my hoodie. They recognized me as a wealthy daughter who studied abroad and wore torn jeans and spoke English.

I stared into the shop. Shiny displays of black dresses; cardigans for summer modesty. A feeling arose within me: I loved this place and its fineness. My heart landed on one lovely thing, then another. White scalloped tops on wooden hangers. Chiffon ruffle blouses on mannequins. Cream leather jackets with silver zippers. Meanwhile, my mother stormed through the shop as if it were a street market.

My fingertips grazed a shark tooth–patterned coat. Teal and black pulsated through the coat’s body, all of it lined in silk. The collar was stiff and structured. The sleeves widened at the bottom—a touch of whimsy.

The shopgirl came up to me. Grinning, she must have believed she had caught a fish—not the mother but her daughter. Two inches shorter than me with an uncomplicated beauty, she was better suited for the coat than I was. Folding her gloved hands at her waist, she said, “The color’s unique. It’s eye-catching, don’t you think?”

“Thank you, sister. It’s on sale,” I said to help her cause.

“Because it’s a coat from this past winter.” She raised the coat to eye level in front of us. “It’s too attractive to pass up, both the coat and the price.”

“It’s bold, sister,” I said, keeping up with her formality.

“You can’t not look at it, can you?” She showed the back of the coat. “If no one bought it, I wanted it for myself. I admired it like a lover, and here you’ve come to take it.”

“Really?” I asked.

“I’m jealous,” she said, and ran her fingers along the seam. “The coat stands out and so do you. You’re meant for each other.”

I bowed, prepared to leave her department. But my mother, far ahead on the walkway, spun around to face me. Retracing her steps, she entered the section. The girl kept her back to my mother, seemingly ignoring her, but addressing me clearly so that she could hear. “You look so young, and your Korean sounds delicate,” she said to me. “What’s your name?”

My mother laughed. “This is my daughter.”

The girl held her hands higher on her waist. “She looks just like you, ma’am.”

“Really, is that true?” my mother asked. “Of course, it makes me happy.”

“She’s not like the girls here,” she said. “Was she born here?”

“My daughter was born in America—it keeps her innocent.”

“Oh, I can see it,” the girl said. “She must have no bad thoughts at all.”

My mother clapped once. “If she got lost here, she’d be gone forever!”

The girl said, “You know how they say everything—”

“Everything comes to the surface eventually!”

My mother scrutinized the coat. She shook it out as if it was laundry fresh from the dryer. “Only my daughter would pick this one.” She was using her mother wit for a bargain, and my job was to notice it.

“Your daughter has good taste,” the girl said in reply.

“This looks cheap, like wholesale,” my mother said. “What’s the original price?”

The girl presented the tag with two hands.

My mother looked impressed. “This ratty old thing?”

“It’s one of a kind,” the girl said to her. “Hand-sewn.”

My mother scoured for loose threads and a discount.

“Let’s go,” I said to my mother, who was unaware of the other shoppers and their glances our way. “I don’t need it, sister. Thank you—”

My mother’s nails pinched my forearm. “Hold on,” she said to me. “Give me a second.”

The next words mattered. The girl said to her, “Your daughter is so lucky to have a mother like you.”

My mother nodded approvingly. “Let’s do a bigger cut, off the price—”

“Oh, I’m a shopgirl,” she said. “You know I can’t haggle like that—”

“Whatever you can, I’ll give you cash—”

“Please, don’t fuss. This isn’t a place for that—”

“Tell me the price again?” My mother counted new, clean bills. “I’ll come back to your shop again with my friends next week, and we’ll each buy something.”

The girl sighed. “Are you sure?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“OK, fine,” she said. “Since you’re a special customer.”

“I won’t forget it,” my mother said.

The girl wrapped the coat in a bag. “Oh, I can’t spit on a smiling face.”

“Yes, you’ve made us smile.” My mother eased up and took the girl’s hand. “You’re so smart and fast. You’re a good girl. You don’t say too much, you don’t give too much.”

The sale finished, the girl’s shoulders relaxed. She pulled me to her side, as though we were friends holding hands. I thought this was how it must feel to have a sister. “Your daughter speaks Korean?” she asked my mother. “She speaks both, it’s impressive.”

“This,” my mother said, raising the bag with the coat, “is the most expensive thing I ever bought her. She doesn’t live in California like I do here. It’s hard to take money and move it across the world. It’s easier to move people.”

“Then your daughter should wear it out.”

My mother nodded gratefully as the girl swapped my hoodie with the coat. She guided me into the sleeves, one after the other, then gave me a tie to pull my hair back.

“How is it?” the girl asked me. “Do you feel refreshed?”

“Oh, oh, she’s starting to look like me,” my mother said. “Do you see?”

“It’s her eyes,” she said. “Your daughter has the best of both. She’ll grow up to have a glamorous figure, like an American. When she came in today, I could tell she was different. She has so much ki. You can’t help but notice. The girls are curious. They were saying, ‘How mysterious!’ ‘How quiet, solemn, dark-skinned. Can she be so young?’ ”

“It’s my fault.” My mother took the bag with the hoodie, tucked it under her arm. “It’s all my doing. I made her suffer too much. I didn’t know what to give her, so I gave her pain. She’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“She is pure,” the girl comforted her.

“You’ve suffered too,” my mother said to her. “Whose poor daughter are you?”

“My parents are missionaries,” she said. “I’ll marry and move into my husband’s house to live with his parents the day before my waist thickens but no sooner.”

My mother patted her head. “You have a lucky forehead. You’ll have many suitors. And you’re right to wait. Nobody loves you like your mother. Not your father, not your husband, and not your children. While your parents are alive, eat as much of their love as you can, so it can sustain you for the rest of your life.”

In the shop’s oval mirror, the coat embraced me.

“What a reduction,” the girl said to me. “You’re lucky to have a mother like her.”

My mother said, “There was one woman, prettier than anyone. It was my own mother. Back in the old days, you couldn’t hide beauty. In those plain huts, dirt roads, can you imagine how she stood out? It was impossible to live in the countryside. She died young and tragically.” My mother squeezed my hand in hers. “I was a little girl when she died, and she left me to live without her.”

For an early dinner, we hunted for barbecued duck. My mother drove outside the city, past a construction site, onto an uphill road, through a forest of pale-limbed trees with thin branches that pointed to the sky. Where the road narrowed, we came to a hidden driveway and a two-story restaurant on wooden stilts.

The duck was presented in neat rows of thin slices, sunning on our floor table. Pointing to the new coat I was wearing, my mother would not let me cook. Using metal chopsticks, she rested a slice over the grill, charred it on each side, dipped the cooked slice into a sweet mustard, and fed it to me. Tender, rich, and smoky. Driving here no longer seemed out of the way. Our iced coffees were $10 each.

“Slow down,” my mother said. “You’re going to choke.”

“Let’s order more,” I said, feeling more awake. “More mustard, too.”

“Are you starving yourself at home?”

I did not tell her that I ate cookies, chips, cereal, and emptied the cupboards. Even as I felt pain in my stomach, I wanted more. The first time I made myself throw up, at the age of 16, I felt relief. From then on it was normal for me to go on eating, then undo what I had done. There were tooth marks on my knuckles; my jaw was swollen.

For all I knew, I was the only person in the world throwing up my food. Only I could feel the bones of my feet in my shoes; only I saw my nails feather at the tips and felt scared when I noticed a piece of my throat, a strip of flesh, sinking to the bottom of the toilet bowl. I had told myself that I would not do it while staying with my mother.

The waitress kneeled at our table and hugged me, causing my chopsticks to clatter to the floor. She removed new ones from her apron, set them on the table, and said, “I feel like I’m seeing a ghost. I have listened to your mother talk about you for hours. She had to bring you out here just to prove to me that you were real. She didn’t pay you, did she?”

The waitress, who looked to be in her 40s, had wrinkles around her mouth. Women with sons have this face, my mother once told me. While you can fight with your daughter, you must bite your tongue in front of your son.

She scooted right next to me and warned me about my mother’s friends, or the wives of my father’s friends: “Those people, they’ll see a girl like you, take you to a place like this, then get you drunk and bring you home to one of their mansions, and they’ll trap you and lock you in a room with one of their lonely sons!”

My mother laughed. She used to be a waitress and must often have found herself friendlier with waitstaff than she was with my father’s friends and their wives. “Young women,” she said, “are more valuable than men these days.”

“God,” the waitress said, slapping the floor. “They’d be overjoyed to get her pregnant and then force her to marry their sons. Then they’d get a daughter and a grandchild. A daughter to order around, a grandchild to show off.”

“It wasn’t always like that,” said my mother.

While you can fight with your daughter, you must bite your tongue in front of your son.

“Praise the Lord,” said the waitress.

“Do you like her new coat?” my mother asked.

“It’s true what they say,” the waitress said to me. “Your clothes are your wings.”

The waitress shifted from a kneel to a squat, dug into her back pocket, and slid an envelope across the floor. My mother bowed to her, gathered the envelope, and transferred it into a larger envelope inside her purse.

“My husband’s friend’s wife wants to meet my daughter tonight,” my mother said. They both acted as though the envelope had not passed between them. “She’s buying us barbecued eel. That woman has an elevator in her house!”

The waitress clapped her hands. “What a lonely woman to beg!”

“Pity is the path to mutuality,” said my mother.

“Oh, screw pity. She has an elevator!”

My mother drove to her regular bathhouse, which we entered through a parking garage so far underground that you could feel the air cooling. We emerged from an elevator. She paid at the front desk. The woman set out two sets of shirts and shorts to sweat in, and towels. We rinsed in the showers. We soaked inside the pools. The steam rose, filigree above our shoulders in the shape of white swans. On spa tables, our bodies were scrubbed raw and rolls of dead skin collected beneath us.

I asked my mother about the envelope. My mother’s friends saved for big purchases by adding each month to a pot, and one of them received the gye payout on a rotating basis. The women had chosen my mother to be their collector and distributor. She was good with numbers in her head at the market.

Her eyes were closed. “With my payout?” she asked me. “I send it to my brothers. I left you and your brother to come here and be with my side of the family. But I don’t know how their lives can be so difficult. How can they live so poorly? How can I ask your dad for money to help my brothers? My brothers are too proud.” She took a towel and put it over her face. Through the cloth, she said, “So, I send my brothers’ wives bags of rice. I give envelopes of money to their children. If our own mother hadn’t died so young, maybe things would’ve been different. How can they lead such unfortunate lives?”

Our bodies were flipped onto our sides and the scrubbing resumed.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said to me. “I don’t know—”

“Who cares, you feel bad,” I said.

“Listen to you,” she said, sharply. “Koreans don’t say ‘who cares’ to their mothers. One day, you’ll have a daughter who treats you like you treat me.”

We rinsed ourselves with ginseng body wash. Then, we headed to the outside main room with an ondol-heated floor in our shirts and shorts. We entered the clay room and left after a short time. We crawled into a dome-shaped stone sauna and sat on the floor. My mother apologized. “You’re old enough to be my friend,” she said.

“You have a lot of friends.”

She said, “My friend from college, Hae Won. We tried to be news anchors.”

“News anchors?” I asked. “You never talked about it.”

“Because you see me now, but if you saw me then I was good, really.” She wiped her sweat off. She motioned for me to do the same. “My mother was good at everything.”

“Did you pass the audition?”

“I did,” my mother said, “but Hae Won didn’t.”

“And you became a news anchor?”

“No, Hae Won lied. She told me I didn’t pass either.”

“What?” I said. “That makes no sense.”

“My dad never let me out of the house. Hae Won checked the results for us and said that we didn’t make it. The broadcasting station was waiting. They called me to tell me they couldn’t wait any longer. After a month, they had hired somebody else.”

“Koreans don’t say ‘who cares’ to their mothers. One day, you’ll have a daughter who treats you like you treat me.”

“Are you still friends with her?” I asked.

“I am,” she said. “Two persimmons, getting old.”

“What—why?”

“Let’s drink something delicious,” my mother said.

She charged my sweet rice drink to her tab. The ice was refreshing in the hot rooms. I kept one cube under my tongue. My mother led me into the charcoal room. She poured water over the heated rocks in the corner. We shuffled onto the floor and sat facing one another.

“You know Hae Won? The one who lies?” my mother said after a silence. “I already told you that her daughter is a news anchor. Do you remember? We see her on TV. She has short hair and a button nose. She’s prettier in person. We watch her on variety shows and news broadcasts. I go to see Hae Won and we record them together. One time, this was in front of my friends, I asked if she thought my daughter could pass for a news anchor. Hae Won said my daughter’s face is too big for the screen. Your face needs to fit inside a CD disc to look good on television. From your forehead to your chin.”

I measured my face with my palm for the first time.

“How many people can cover their face with a disc?” she asked.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be friends.”

“You think so?”

I nodded, but she disagreed.

“God is fair,” she said, and clasped our hands together. “Hae Won had a stroke. Half her face melted off, and it sags down past her chin. When she smiles, it bends into a sneer. You see, God is vengeful so we don’t have to be.”

At the end of our time at the bathhouse, I put on my coat and followed my mother into the parking garage where she fed her ticket into a machine. We drove home in silence. After we got out of the car, we went for a walk around the Tancheon tributary.

I worried about whether I ought to take off my coat or wear it casually on the walking path along the river. I feared my mother might admire me wearing it and express her satisfaction. But I felt it would be worse to put the coat away. When I asked my mother about her own mother, she said, “How fun would it have been if my mother was here with us? We would scrub each other’s backs, like baby monkeys sitting in a neat row.”

“She would be the most beautiful.”

My mother laughed. “She had a big face, but it was a beautiful big face. And she’d never let you leave the department store with just one coat. She would’ve bought you a dozen.” Then she tugged my sleeve. “If you ever get sick of wearing this, give it to me. I’ll save it for you, and one day, you’ll think about it and ask me for it. You’ll say, ‘Oh, that coat from then!’ When you put it on, you’ll feel like it’s brand new.”

“I feel refreshed,” I said. “Do I remind you of her?”

“Your brother tells me that you’re strong and you never cry,” my mother said. She smiled sadly. “You know how my mother is dead? Do you think she feels lonely?”

#ej koh #korean #korean american #asian american #memoir #poet

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cbdoilsell-blog · 5 years ago

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How effective CBD oil for menstrual cramps?

For an unfortunate segment of the female population, cramps are a monthly struggle. Some women skate by with a minimal amount of discomfort, while others—estimated at around 10% of menstruating women—suffer from severe, potentially debilitating uterine pain. While there are numerous mainstreams over the counter and prescription medications that claim to relieve the pain and reduce other uncomfortable symptoms, many women feel uncomfortable popping such pills—or have medical reasons they cannot do so.

The good news for these women is that naturally derived CBD oil may be a suitable answer; in fact, historical accounts exist from as early as the 11th century detailing the use of cannabis-based treatments for women’s menstrual pain. 11th-century women often applied a topical mix of cannabis and lamb fat to relieve swollen and painful breasts, and a cannabis-based syrup known as cysteine was used in the 17th century to treat cramps. Of course, tales of historical use can’t serve as genuine proof, but it does suggest a wealth of anecdotal evidence.

Support for cannabis-based products for menstrual pain and PMS isn’t all anecdotal, however. A vaginal suppository containing a mix of THC and CBD has already been released in California that purports to induce strong muscle relaxation, relieve classic menstrual back pain and even soothe the anxiety that sometimes comes with PMS. The pain-relieving benefits generally begin to set in around 15-30 minutes after insertion. While product testimonials may not reach the level of scientific evidence, the praise from proponents is intriguing.

As our body function is different from one another, there are no definite rules for the dosage of CBD oil. However, one should start with the low dosage and see its effect on the body. One can get the more prominent result of CBD oil while smoking or vaping than just rubbing on the body surface. If you are looking for the best brand of CBD oil, check out this article by the Herb Collector for the CBD oil manufactured by Lazarus Naturals

There are no definite rules for taking CBD oil for period pain relief. CBD oil comes in different formulation. You will get it in forms of lotion, cream, oil, tincture, vapor, and so on. Depending on the product you have got, you can go for the application of CBD oil. If you have got the CBD oil in liquid form, you can take it orally taking a few drops under your tongue. You can rub the lotion on your skin to get instant pain relief. However, oil can be vaporized or inhale too. If you have got it in capsule form, you can swallow with the water. All of the methods will help you to relieve your period cramps in a few minutes.

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haiitanis · 7 years ago

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Paradise | Mark Tuan

summary: he’s not what you expected. And you’re not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing. | CEO!Mark, Sugar Daddy!Mark

word count: 3,050

rating/pairing: m (mature themes, language) / Mark Tuan x fem reader

[A/N: I listened to Sorry and Baby by The Rose a lot while writing this tbh.)

seoul ✈ tokyo ✈ beijing ✈ seminyak ✈ busan ✈ los angeles

It had been five months, two weeks and one day since you left Mark Tuan standing on a beach in Busan with an engagement ring in his hands. You hated that you knew exactly how long it had been because leaving him had tormented you every single, solitary moment since.

Honestly, with every passing day, you realized all over again how much you’d screwed things up with him. It had been close to six months since you’d seen Mark, and you still loved him like it had been yesterday. Life in Los Angeles was dull, colorless without him. You missed him every single day.

Some days you wondered if he even thought about you at all anymore. You’d heard rumors about a month before that he was dating someone. “Good for him,” you said, your voice shaking when Heesul called to tell you about the rumors and unable to say that you still hadn’t been able to move on. “He deserves someone amazing.”

You could practically hear Heesul roll her eyes through the phone. Even though you didn’t say, she knew you hadn’t found someone new, that you weren’t even looking. For you, it was always going to be Mark and now that you’d lost him, you knew that even more. Your coworkers had attempted to set you up on a few blind dates, you’d even tried dating apps for a while but no one ever held a candle to him, so you gave up. You went on with your life, resigning to the fact that you lost the love of your life, it was all your fault, and you were just going to be a lonely old cat lady.

You liked living in Los Angeles despite how lackluster it felt some days; the hustle and bustle of the city tended to distract you from the hole in your chest, so you let the fast-paced current of the city sweep you up. If you weren’t at work, you were doing things with friends, finding festivals and street fairs every weekend, going to the beach as much as you possibly could.

To anyone on the outside or following you on social media, your life probably appeared perfect. You were always smiling and looking happy in your photos, you were always at the heart of every interesting event Southern California had to offer, everything from concerts to cultural festivals. No one except for Heesul realized that it was all a facade, a distraction from the emptiness you’d felt every day since you ran off that beach in Busan.

You’d been at a music festival when Heesul called to tell you that she’d heard Mark’s company was moving the head office to Los Angeles. It seemed like too big of a coincidence that he was coming to the very same city you’d run to but you knew there was no way he was coming for you, no matter how much your heart had leaped at the idea of seeing him again, even if it was from afar.

But you shook it off. You were trying to move on, remember? As far as you knew, Mark had moved on. So you put it out of your mind, disregarding it even when you saw on the news that it had been confirmed Mark’s company was relocating to Los Angeles. You decided you were just going to keep doing your own thing, and if you happened to run into Mark, then so be it. You’d just take that as a sign that the universe really just wanted you to suffer.

Two weeks later, you heard that Mark’s company was officially moved to Los Angeles. That weekend you went to Santa Monica, not wanting to be anywhere near the main part of the city. You knew Mark would probably be running around the city trying to get everything done and squared away for the company and himself, so it was either go to the Santa Monica pier or hole up in your apartment for the day, and you really didn’t want to be by yourself.

You’d invited your friend Mari to the beach with you and the two of you walked down the pier with ice cream cones in your hands. But unfortunately, fate didn’t seem to want you to escape Mark quite so easily.

“Did you hear about that tech company that moved here from Korea? You probably know all about them, since you lived there before here,” Mari said, leaning against the boardwalk railing. “I looked them up. The CEO is cute.”

You groaned internally. “Yeah, I saw on the news,” you muttered back, not looking at your friend.

Mari raised her eyebrows at you, waving a hand in your face to try to get you to look at her. “You know more than you’re letting on,” she declared, giving you a pointed look. “Spill.”

You took a lick of your ice cream, your cheeks burning furiously. Mari had been able to read you since the moment you met, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from her for long. Not only could she read you like a book, but she could also be rather tenacious and you knew she wouldn’t let this go.

“I dated him for a while,” you mumbled, still not meeting your friend’s searching gaze.

Mari let out a gasp. “Him? Him, who? The CEO?” she demanded, smacking your shoulder lightly. You knew she wanted more details but you just pressed your lips together into a thin line, nodding your head.

She grilled you further but you refused to answer any more of her questions, immediately changing the subject whenever she’d bring it up until she gave up. The two of you grabbed lunch at a cafe near the beach but after, Mari had to get going, so you decided that the only thing left for you to do was go home and hole up for the rest of the weekend. You had a rather large bottle of wine with your name written on it in your fridge, and that combined with Netflix sounded like the best kind of distraction.

Another month passed, and you were starting to feel more and more like you were just going through the motions of living. Of course, you’d felt like that since you left Mark, but something about knowing that he was so close yet still out of your reach made everything feel so much more robotic. Everything you did felt fake to you like it wasn’t really you doing any of it, like it was someone else inhabiting your body.

The first time you saw him again was almost eight months after the day he proposed to you and you ran. It was your lunch break at work and you’d gone to your favorite cafe about a block from your office. You’d ordered a cup of tea and a sandwich then waited for your items at the counter. When you turned from the counter to find a seat somewhere in the cafe, there he stood just inside the doorway.

Mark looked just the same as he had when you’d left him. It was like he’d frozen when he saw you, his hands still on the half undone zipper of his jacket. Your eyes met his for a long moment and it was like the world stopped for a moment, all the love you had for him in your heart rushing back tinged with the pain you’d caused him, the pain you’d caused yourself.

The moment was lost when your grip on the teacup in your hand slackened and the ceramic shattered on the floor, splashing hot tea onto your legs and feet. You hissed at the sting, immediately dropping down to try to pick up the pieces of the cup. A girl working behind the counter quickly shoo-ed you away though, armed with a towel and a broom. You apologized profusely, still refusing to look behind you at Mark. You didn’t think you had it in you to meet his eyes again. But the more you fluttered around anxiously, the more the girl insisted that it was alright and that she’d bring you a new cup to your seat.

Finally, you had no choice but to turn and face Mark. He was still watching you, his face carefully guarded, but even after close to a year of separation, you knew him well enough to see the lingering flickers of pain in his eyes. “It’s really you,” he whispers, but you hear the soft words. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you murmured back, your voice barely audible. As you watch, Mark flinches visibly at your words.

He closes his eyes for a long moment, inhaling deeply before expelling the air in his lungs with a deep sigh. “We need to talk,” he tells you, determination evident in his voice.

It’s your turn to sigh. “I know,” you breathed, avoiding his eyes. “I know.”

Mark watched you carefully before he pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Give me your number. I’ll text you so we can meet.”

Almost robotically, you take the phone from him, typing your name and phone number in before saving the contact. Mark glances at you, then presses the call button on your contact, only satisfied when your phone rings. “Well, I suppose I’ll leave you to eat in peace then,” he mutters, turning on his heel and leaving the small cafe after giving you one last searching look.

Once he was gone, you found the most secluded booth in the cafe and tried not to let the sobs you could feel building at the back of your throat escape your lips. Eight months later and there he had been, standing right in front of you, looking just as handsome and incredible as the day you’d met him. There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You wanted to apologize, to tell him how truly sorry you were, to beg for his forgiveness and tell him how much you loved him. To tell him that you’d never stopped loving him.

Your lunch break wasn’t even over when you felt your phone vibrate on the table. When you checked, it was a text from Mark, asking to meet you that night. You offered him an invitation to your apartment, knowing that the conversation you were going to have should be kept private, especially considering how high-profile Mark was. He agreed quickly, and you weren’t sure if what you were feeling was dread or relief.

That night, you poured yourself a glass of wine, sipping on it carefully as you waited for Mark to ring your doorbell. When the ring sounded throughout your apartment you downed the last of your glass, setting it on the counter before moving slowly towards the door and opening it with shaking hands.

For the second time within twenty-four hours, after close to a year, Mark Tuan stood in front of you. He was dressed casually, jeans and an oversized hoodie, and as he stepped into your apartment, you couldn’t help the wave of nostalgia that swept over you. You’d thought in the last several months that maybe you’d gotten over him at least a little. But when he looked at you, you could still feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach even as pain squeezed your lungs until you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Mark didn’t sit, instead opting to lean against the island in your kitchen. You eyed him cautiously, moving to stand opposite the island as he watched you with an unreadable gaze. “I just have one question,” he said, voice sounding cautious as he scrutinized you. “Why?”

You could already feel the knot gathering in your throat. “I wasn’t good enough for you,” you whisper, your voice all but inaudible. Mark moved closer to you, but for every step he took forward, you took one back, until your shoulders met the cold metal of your refrigerator. “How could you have wanted to marry someone that you only met because they needed money? Or did you forget that part? That we met on a sugar daddy site?”

He pushed a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his features as the carefully crafted mask of composure he’d worn crumbled. “How could you think you weren’t good enough? Was it something I did? Something I said?” Mark asked, stepping closer to you and invading your space.

“Not directly, no,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you refused to meet his gaze.

Mark let out an aggravated sound, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and forcing you to look into his eyes. You inhaled sharply at his unexpected touch, his skin warm against yours. “Tell me,” he said, a slightly demanding note in his voice.

“You never even introduced me to your family,” you retorted, the words coming out choked. As hard as you were trying to hold back, a few tears managed to sneak their way out, slipping down your cheeks. Even all these months later, leaving Mark still rested on your heart and soul like a wound that would never heal. “How was I supposed to believe that you were serious about me, that you actually thought I was good enough for you when you wouldn’t even introduce me to your family?”

When the dampness of your tears met his thumb, Mark swiped at the droplets almost absently before he let out another exasperated sounding sigh. “Because my family refused to meet any girl unless we were engaged, so they knew that I was one hundred percent serious about her position in my life. About your position in my life.,” he told you.

You had nothing to say to that as Mark watched you with a raised brow. “I can’t fucking believe you ran all the way across the Pacific Ocean to get away from me,” he muttered, almost to himself as his hands dropped from your cheeks to your shoulders. “Did you not want to be with me that badly, did you ever even love me?”

His words shattered your heart into even more pieces than it had already been broken. “Mark,” you exclaimed his name, voice cracking with emotion, and this time it was you cradling his face in your hands. Mark watched you, his expression unreadable even as one of his hands moved to hold yours against his cheek.

“I did want to be with you, and I loved you so much,” you whispered, your thumbs tracing across his cheekbones ever so gently even as tears coursed down your face. “I still love you and I’ve never regretted something as much as I regret leaving. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you like that.”

Mark’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. Then he was pressing closer to you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into the tightest hug you’d ever felt. Mark buried his face in your hair and the next time he spoke, his voice was muffled and broken. “Then why didn’t you come back?” he whispered, so softly that you wouldn’t have heard him if his mouth hadn’t been so close to your ear. “Why wouldn’t you see me?”

You let out the sob you’d been holding back, burying your face in his shoulder and wrapping your arms tightly around his waist even as the two of you sank to your kitchen floor. “I didn’t think you could ever forgive me, I didn’t think you’d even want to see me,” you murmured, your tears soaking the hoodie he wore until Mark leaned away from you. “I didn’t want to hurt either one of us anymore.”

One of Mark’s hands stroked your hair, his touch as gentle as you remembered. “Always. I will always forgive you. I will always want to see you,” he whispered back, his eyes soft as he gazed at you carefully. “Just like I will always love you. I haven’t stopped loving you since I took you to Tokyo for the first time.”

“There’s never been anyone else for me. There never will be. It’s always been you,” Mark told you, determination burning in his eyes as his hand moved to the curve of your neck, his touch gentle as he pulled you closer.

Then his lips found yours. The kiss was tentative at first, soft and questioning. Damp from your tears, the both of you releasing all of the pent-up emotion from the months you’d spent apart. “I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Mark’s fingers tangled in your hair before he started to pepper light kisses across your face like he was memorizing your features with his lips. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured back to you, pulling you into his lap and curling his arm protectively around your waist. “Just please, don’t leave again. Don’t leave me again.”

You shook your head, finding his mouth again. “I won’t,” you whispered against his lips and then Mark was kissing you deeply. “I love you so much, Mark.”

He used his grip on your hips to maneuver you so that you were straddling his hips, leaning back against your kitchen cabinets. You pressed your body as close to him as you possibly could, never breaking the kiss.

When Mark’s hand slid underneath the sweater you wore, your breath hitched in your throat. His touch was gentle, his fingers ghosting across your skin, but then his palm was flattening against your back, pressing you closer to him like he was trying to mold your bodies together.

“Mark-” you breathed his name but he claimed your lips again and you melted into his arms. Being with him, his arms around you like this, it felt like coming home.

His lips left yours for a moment and Mark rested his forehead against yours, one hand moving from your hip to card gently through your hair. “I love you,” he whispered to you before reconnecting your lips.

You had close to a year to make up for, after all.

A/N: This is the end of Paradise! Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, and sent me messages! I appreciate every single one of you so much. I hope you enjoyed reading this series! Thank you! 💕

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not-a-statement · 6 years ago

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Chasing ghosts. Chapter 2

So for some reason I can’t edit my masterlist for this story. On of us - me or tumblr - is definitely a clumsy fool.

Anyway, it’s been a long time but here I post again. This chapter introduces original characters and focuses on them exclusively.

Critics and opinions are always appreciated.

Baton Rouge,LA, January 23, 2035

The general office of the State Police Department was filled with sounds and people typical for Monday morning. Investigators, detectives, even a couple of court clerks were moving slowly between the work tables. Phones ringing, Maggie's coffee machine softly grumbling, detective Nate Parker rants about his little rendez vous with a couple of girls past weekend, which caused an occasional bursts of laughter from a small group of listeners. Someone’s complaining about son, who’s got yet another detention at school. That scallywag was caught smoking in the school closet during lunch break. “I mean, come on! What’s the school’s backyard is for? What’s wrong with these children?”

All this leaving no chances at all for detective Robert Brooks to focus on completing the report. Frankly, if there was anything consistent to write then probably no excuses could take place. The missing was found the week prior in the Pine Prairie area - one of the tourists called the police and said that near the shore of Lake Millers lied a body of a dead girl dressed in a white light dress. By the time detectives and the team of medical experts arrived, a decent crowd of onlookers gathered around the corpse, hence searching for traces at the crime scene wouldn’t be for big avail.

What else?

There’s no doubt that the victim was killed - even though the lungs were full of liquid and the fact that clothes and skin of the deceased were pretty much hinting that she’s spent plenty of time in the water, a rope trace was found on her neck. So, the drowning was staged.

By whom?

Well, here’s where interesting questions start.

No wonder why the crime scene was so crowded - case after case were quaking the whole country. People kept disappearing in a daylight - single men and women of different ages, usually without family and friends - those who wouldn’t be immediately claimed missing. Generally the search would last for about a week or two only to let detectives stand before such corpses (and it could’ve been worse, if one believed Nate the Chatter Box) or find victims alive but absolutely insane. Wearing rags, disoriented, and with no memory at all, no one even remembered their names.

People were frightened. And no one had even a small clue, even a hint, about this maniac’s whereabouts or appearance. His work was flawless - every time a new case appeared in press, this bastard’s already in another state. Probably.

At least everything looked like that - no one had accurate information. And, which was a very bad thing to say, such cases were a nightmare for any detective - perfect addition to the record. There were adventurers, of course, who wanted to catch their own Zodiac, but most people were genuinely concerned about their careers.

And so it happened that careerist Brooks was not only brought to a partner of the adventurer Tam Bennett, and more so, he was appointed to investigate such a case.

Robert sighed, once again glancing over the printed report page on the computer screen.

Elizabeth Arthrisha Marlowe, born in 2019, blah blah blah ... Numerous abrasions on the arms in the forearm, blah blah ... The time of death was determined between 9 pm and midnight on January 17 of this year ... and more rubbish. Seriously, what else to write?

When he and Tam just started the investigation about two weeks prior Robert was saving hope that that time would be a fluke. Children and adolescents haven’t figured in such cases so far, and a sixteen-year-old girl could go to carouse with friends, or with some guy - anything. But the fact was bulletproof - the corpse of Lake Millers was identified, parents were heartbroken, Captain Hernandez was constantly inspecting for progress on the case, and Bennett was obsessed with all sorts of theories. Or women.

Where is, by the way, that boy this time? Monday, ten in the morning! Wasn’t it Tam who kept calling me all Sunday while I tried to spend the day off with family, and reminded of all the chores to do on Monday? That’s not even funny.

Okay...This won’t work. Perhaps the morning coffee-tobacco ritual will help clear the thoughts? Yes, sounds good. A cup of Colombian black with cream, a spoon of cane Mexican sugar and a pinch of cinnamon in a compartment with a cigarette and fresh morning air. The first good idea for today, Brooks.

Robert got up from his desk stretched and headed for the dispatcher's counter. After receiving his equivalent of the Holy Grail from Maggie, he passed the doors leading to the office, a corridor filled with civilians who were brought here or who came by their own will, then the hall and finally went into the parking lot in front of the department building. The weather was pleasing, here and there, however, small flocks of clouds were gathering, but the sun was shining warmly. The city, long awakened, performed a symphony of the weekday - passing pickup trucks and small cars, ordinary townspeople and important birds like lawyers and real estate agents scurrying around here and there. You could even hear a heavy truck driving in the distance.

Someday all this will be rewarded, Brooks thought, releasing cigarette smoke and slowly sipping from a mug with the inscription "Best Daddy in the World". Another five years, and I’ll be in higher position, and five more - and here comes the retirement. A small house in California somewhere in Palo Alto, a neat little garden for my Mary and a home winery for both of us. Our Aaron and Lucy would come over for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter ... imagine - a festive table with the family and you are sitting at the head of the table. What else can you dream about? Life will be like this cup of coffee - warm, reliable and with a very long aftertaste, if sipping small ...

“Aaaaaah!!!!”

Mother of…!!!

Brooks threw up his hands in surprise, spilling half the contents of the mug on the sidewalk. Thank God not on a work shirt.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack at thirty-seven?" he yelled into Bennett's laughing face, sticking out of the silver Volkswagen’s window. Tam's hand was still on the honk.

"Seriously," he panted through his laughter, "you would see your face, Bob! Standing there, caught up in a daydream, and then this - Aaaaah!”

He mocked Robert’s grimace of horror.

That laughing blond face was so tempting to throw the rest of coffee at it! First he’s late for work, and now he decided to mock me!

All right, calm down, Robert, calm down. It would be disrespectful on your part to respond to the pranks of this toddler overgrown.

"Not funny, Tam," he said, trying to sound dignified, "what took you so long, by the way?"

“Oh, oh, oh! " Tam started fidgeting in the seat, shaking his arms around him.

"Wait ... where was it ..."

He began to search for something, bending in all imaginable and unthinkable directions. The front passenger seat, glove compartment, pockets on the doors, even under his feet. As Tam reached there, his head fell on the steering wheel with a swing, causing one more honk.

"Just find a spot and park already" Brooks said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, pain in his voice. Seriously, not a partner, but a complete disappointment.

After Bennett parked his car in the far corner of the parking lot, and Brooks reached the porch of the building, finishing his coffee (great, the sugar at the bottom did not dissolve completely, and now the last sips are too sweet, splendid), they exchanged a handshake and went inside.

"I'm still waiting for the answer, young man" Robert said as strictly as he could as they crossed the hall.

"First, I'm not your son," replied Tam, smiling. "And second, I decided that I’d make you a surprise."

"What surprise for God’s sake? What are you up to again?”

"Don’t worry, Bobby, you'll like it! Very much!”

"Can you at least pretend sometimes that you're a professional?” Robert didn’t like all those glances from people around, attracted by Tam's enthusiastic exclamations.

"Nah, I'm gorgeous just as I am" Bennett shrugged as they approached the door leading to the general office.

"Take the keys and wait for me at your car. Mine is... umm ... not in the purest condition today. I need to go to Sam, I'll be back in a moment”.

“Oh for love of...”

"Maggie! My doll!” - Bennett exclaimed, pressing his lips to the hand of the dispatcher, who immediately blushed and playfully giggled. The white blouse, she was wearing, obviously lacked buttons in certain places, which caused a lot of discomfort to Brooks. Bennett, apparently, didn’t mind this kind of view.

"How was the weekend, my sugar? Had many men kneeled?”

"I think you'd know better, detective," Maggie purred innocently "or am I wrong?"

Really? In front of the whole office, these two would exchange so unconcealed expressions of passion and lust? Where’s the ethics committee when you need one?

"I'd love to know more ... dig a little deeper if you let me put it this way ..."

Wow! Okay, not listening to this! Gross and obnoxious!

"All in good time, detective. But next time you shouldn’t forget your promises about ... special equipment.”

The phone rang at the dispatcher's desk, putting an end to this vulgar scene much to Robert's relief. While Maggie, still crimson and still with a half-detached blouse, were answering the call, Tam winked at his partner and pronounced "handcuffs" with his lips, pointing his finger in the direction of that spicy’s lover. Just like a student at a dorm party.

"Don’t forget the keys!" he added, quickly moving away from the counter in the direction of Captain Hernandez office “I'll be in a sec!”

Brooks stayed where he stood, setting the mug on the counter.

Here we go. Got nothing else to do but to stand here and wonder what this scoundrel has in mind. Every time. Every goddamn time. Easy to wound up with a half-turn, and everybody better run away within a radius of a couple of miles around. Cars soar into the air, tiles fly from the houses’ roofs, women in panic, children crying. A real hurricane. Safe for the name - Tam, not Andrew.

"It's not even the first month that he works here. Sam lectures him constantly, I give instructions, and look at him. Always jumping ahead, as if his head’s made of stone and will demolish any wall” Robert thought out loud “what's even going on in his brain? ..”

"Dunno much about the head, Bob," Maggie said in a caramel voice reappearing at the counter, dreamily slapping her eyelashes, "but trust me, what's going on in his pants ..."

"You know what, I already regret saying it out loud!" Jesus Christ, would this vulgarity scene come to an end already?!

Brooks got to his desk and sat down in the armchair. The plan for today, which could hardly be called consistent as it was, began to become completely insane. First the report, which he had nothing to write in, then spilled coffee, all sorts of bedtime insinuations - yes, Robert knew what sex was and where the children came from, he himself was a father, but that's too much - and now it's time to arm with a trowel and a little plastic bag to walk this boy. We ought to find a leash. Maggie probably would have one ...

No, no, that's a bad joke. Very bad.

Okay, probably the report can be a time killer, while Tam’s chatting with the captain. It’s not like time killers are always pleasing but what you gonna do, right?

At least there were some people who’d probably be happy with whatever Brooks wrote for a report of an adolescent girl’s horrifying murder. Newspaper editors.

It looked like they’re making it a competition to draw more attention to their source of information compared to competitors. "The Oregon maniac visits Louisiana." "Yet another reason to use the door chain." "Mysterious kids killer at large".

Blah blah blah. Scribblers.

Of course the case is serious and everybody mourns for the girl and prays for her parents to smother their misery, but is it really necessary to play with people's hearts like that? Add in the photo plastered on the front page - a police tape in the foreground and a bunch of people crowding behind it. Fresh stuff, just from the crime scene.

On Friday evening, when Brooks was about to leave home, anticipating a delicious chicken breast with Parmesan and eggplant for dinner, he found Nate and Tam in the interrogation room, staring intently at that exact photo from the newspaper. Enthusiasts. They say that the criminal always returns to the crime scene. So both decided to play bloodhounds. Also Robert could smell some booze in the room too, so...

On the other hand, if one took a sober look at things, then there wasn’t anything consistent either. No traces, no clues, even the smallest. Absolute zero. Robert had already suggested Hernandez to hand over the case to the special squad to take that burden of a case off his shoulders, but every time that question popped up Sam would just grin and pat Brooks on the shoulder.

"Bob, what are talking about? You have such an experience, such record! And what a chance to be a mentor to the young one!"

Sounds easier than it is...

“Surprise!” a folder fell sharply on the table in front of Brooks.

Oh my God…

“Cheer up, partner!" Tam said, plopping down in the armchair opposite to Brooks. "We have a case!"

"Um, I know," Robert raised an eyebrow, "and you always find an excuse to slick away"

"No, you don’t understand, Bobby." Bennett majestically placed his palm on the folder, touching it with his fingertips, and slowly moved it towards Brooks. "We have a case."

Robert, still looking suspiciously at the youngster, took the folder and opened it, going into reading. Photo, name, surname, lots and lots of text. With every line he read, the hope to at least somehow bring the present day to an acceptable level, was slipping away. It seemed that having a leash wasn’t a joking idea, but a very real necessity.

Brooks gave his partner a glance full of fatigue and disappointment.

“Well, am I good at making surprises or am I the best?” Bennett's brows creased conspiratorially.

"Please tell me this is a joke ..."

“Why?”

“Tam, I’m begging you.”

"What's wrong, Bob?"

Brooks heaved a deep sigh and began to read aloud.

“Mabel Jessica Pines, born in 1999, Piedmont, California. According to her landlords arrived on January 18 of this year from the city of New York. According to Smiths couple - owners of the apartment at 881 West Roosevelt Street Miss Pines rented - she came across as a modest, quiet woman, not particularly talkative and constantly thoughtful. Her interests were the surroundings, especially the University of Louisiana and Manchac swamps. Mr and Mrs. Smith also noted that she preferred not to answer questions about family and relatives. Only said that she was married, but got divorced a few years ago. Wasn’t seen participating in any phone calls. On the 20th of January she left the rented apartment and never came back. Was dressed in a gray coat and a long skirt, carrying a medium-sized travel bag and a mobile phone, which she stopped responding around 7 pm. Left a laptop and a notebook in the apartment”.

Brooks put down the folder and brought his hands to the bridge of his nose, resting his elbows on the countertop.

"Great, isn’t it?" exclaimed Tam. “Full set - you’ve got clues and description! All we need to do is restore her route, trace each her step, find her perso... What?”

Brooks, still holding his hands on the bridge of his nose, pointed to his partner with his finger, as if asking him to plug his fountain of enthusiasm.

"What's bothering, Bobby?"

Calm down, Robert, calm down. You are reasonable, smart man. You’ve had many of such conversations with your young son Aaron. It's the same, no differences.

"Bob, you're straining me."

Easy, easy. I'm straining him, you see. Well, well, let it be, a little bit of tension didn’t kill anyone so far. I'm still alive.

"Listen, you're breathing as if you've gone too far with pepper in the soup, Bobby.”

All right, that's enough.

Robert slowly raised his head, holding his hands together at the tip of his nose. He was breathing really deep and quite noisy.

"First," he began softly, clearing his throat, "call me Bobby one more time and you'll be riding in the back seat. And second, we have no new case. Foot down”.

Tam whistled.

“Hmm, mate, you're …”

"Let me ask you something" interrupted Robert, "when you accepted this case, which part of your organism was functioning as a thinking part?"

“What does it have to do with it? It's such an opportunity!”

“What opportunity? Tell me" Brooks asked, still keeping his coolness.

Tam looked at him with an expression of complete perplexity a second or two, then leaned forward and began:

“Listen. What’s the main problem we had with the Marlowe’s case?”

“The case itself.”

“I'm serious.”

“You don’t say! You know how to be serious?”

"Look, this isn’t funny” Tam frowned. "Our main problem was time which we’re lacking of. What did we initially know about the Marlowe girl? Almost nothing, neither where most likely she could go, nor her full circle of acquaintances. So no one expected that her loss could be just such a case.”

“What case?”

"Such a case" Bennett pointed to the folder, "clear as day."

Brooks raised his eyebrows.

"Give me at least a hint because I don’t really understand ..."

“There’s nothing to understand here. A lonely woman, from another city. Comes to nowhere and almost immediately disappears!” Bennett could barely restrain himself from being excited. "This is our Oregon maniac, I'm telling you."

Well, here you go.

When it comes to do paperwork, he has plan for the evening. And when it comes to burden me with additional stress, so he's first in line. It’s already becoming unbearable. How do I explain him?

"Ok, Tam," Robert said, restrainedly. "Here’s what we’ll do. You’ll take this muck to where you took it, wash your hands with soap and then we'll go to your piano tutor.”

Bennett made an uncomprehending face.

“Seriously. We are not taking this case and that’s final. We've had enough trouble with that Marlowe girl" Tam started to protest, but Brooks stopped him, lifting both his hands “No, I'm saying that’s enough. Get yourself a notebook, call it "My hasty conclusions that have nothing to do with reality" and write down all your speculation there.”

Robert got up from the table and began to pull on his jacket.

“Now you and I will get in the car, go for a coffee and do some work.”

With these words, Brooks took his car keys from the table, checked once more whether the token that hung on his belt of trousers was there and was ready to the exit the office when Bennett found something to say:

"So you'll go to Sam yourself?"

“For what?” Brooks froze half a turn, looking back at his partner.

Bennett just shrugged.

“Well, to tell him personally that you refuse to take the case, which he himself commissioned, for example?”

Sam did what?

“Come again.”

"The captain of the state police department assigns us a case, and you stand against the decision of your superiors." Bennett smiled ingenuously. “Pretty brave of you, I must say.”

Oh no. No no no.

So it’s not Tam? Can this day get any worse?

Brooks sighed noisily and lowered his head, staring at his polished black boots. How many thresholds were overstepped by these guys, how many pursuits for criminals and capture operations they saw. How many times did Brooks polish them to shine, to look neat, while receiving a new title or listening a praise for a successfully disclosed case. How long have they gone and for what? In order to soon go to the dump together with the Robert’s career.

The vision of the house in California again appeared before him and immediately melted in a light haze. Nothing of the sort will happen if the captain continues to charge Robert with such hopeless cases and companions.

“So what?” Tam behind Brooks pointedly looked at his watch. “What did you say about coffee? Can we grab a cup for Sam? Well, you know, as a sign of respect and …”

"Come on ..." Robert muttered softly.

“Sorry, what?”

Brooks raised his eyes to the ceiling and repeated a little more distinctly:

“Come. On”

Bennett, grinning in a broad smile, instantly jumped from his seat, grabbed a folder from the table and flew past a still motionless partner, slapping him along the shoulder.

“That’s more like it!” he proclaimed joyfully. “New case, baby!”

Would you just shut up already an unfortunate thought flew through Robert's head as he sadly followed Tam out of the office.

***

“And she had very kind eyes. Hazel” Brooks looked into his notebook. Yes, this phrase has sounded for the third or fourth time for those half an hour from the time that detectives arrived to the landlords of the missing.

“Kind, but very sad eyes …”

"Yes, Mrs. Smith, I think I wrote it down," Robert said, holding out his hand to his cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. Mr. Smith tumbled in the room noisily puffing, holding an ashtray in one hand while the second was already groping for his pocket.

“Anna really liked the girl” Mr. Smith perched in a chair next to his wife. The ashtray was placed on a table next to the cup of Brooks, and in the pocket finally found the coveted pack of cigarettes. A mischievous smile played on Mr. Smith's lips.

"Henry, for heaven's sake!" His wife threw up her hands. "How many times have I asked you not to smoke in the house! You know, my back does not welcome airing so often.”

"You can bear it once a week honey" Henry brought his lit-up match to a cigarette with trembling fingers then inhaled and immediately fell into a ruthless throaty cough.

Anna Smith shook her head worriedly, looking at her husband, and turned to the detective:

"I told him that forty years of smoking would make some consequences. Imagine - he wasn’t listening to me until he laid down on the surgery table! Who knew that you can get a tumor like that, right?”

"Benign," Henry finally cleared his throat, "it was benign, my dear. And the main thing I’m still in one piece. Head, hands, legs” he winked at the detective and folded his old mouth into a grin like a little mischievous schoolboy.

“And what’s betw…”

"When you, ahem ..." Robert hastily intervened to stop the phrase, which beginning wasn’t biding anything good "when you applied, you mentioned that Mabel reluctantly talked about herself. I believe that you’ve learned at least something about her?”

"Yes detective but very, very little." Mrs. Smith clasped her fingers and put them to her forehead, concentrating on something.

"She said she came from New York," her husband said, releasing a cloud of blue smoke, "god knows what called her to our backwoods ..."

"Oh shush, Henry." Mrs. Smith shook her finger in vexation. "I'm sure detective knows already where the girl came from."

“Can I clarify the question?” Brooks put the notebook aside on the table. “The bartender from the diner near the bus station mentioned that in a conversation with him Mabel said that she came in search for someone. Didn’t she tell you the same thing? Maybe mentioned who it was?”

"Ah, poor thing! Did she have to eat breakfast there?” Mrs. Smith shook her head in frustration. "If she came at once, I would feed her with a decent breakfast. What kind of muck could she be offered there?”

"They used to have good burgers," Henry shook the ashes, "at least five years ago, when I last had them ..."

“Nonsense! Burger for breakfast?”

“Ahem. Mrs. Smith …”

"Yes, sorry" Anna turned her attention to Brooks. "No, she didn’t say anything like that to us. She was married, that's all I know about her life. But her husband didn’t interest her very much, as far as I can tell. I did not see a ring as a lock, so he’s probably still alive. Maybe he was quite a scoundrel”

"And what’s her husband's name?"

Anna just shook her head.

"Forgive me, detective, but I never heard it from her."

From above came the sound of the door being opened, followed by hasty steps down the stairs. Found something a thought rushed through Robert's head. A moment later, Tam appeared in the room. His face was ... disappointed?

"Mrs. Smith, you wrote in a application that Mabel had a laptop and a notebook."

"That's right, young man, she left them in her room."

Brooks stared at his partner's face, puzzled. Tam only shook his head briefly.

"Is something wrong, gentlemen?"

"Have you left your house in the last couple of days?"

"Just to do shopping yesterday afternoon ... what happened?"

Brooks rose abruptly, and they both hastily rushed to the stairs to the second floor. Mabel's room was nothing particularly noteworthy - a bed, a desk, a window and four walls. Things were lying neatly, the bed was made. It seemed that the guest had left a minute ago.

“Checked the window sill?”

“Yes, it’s dusty as if no one touched it for several years”

“A lock on the door?”

“Just a latch, any fool would open without a trace ..”.

Brooks slowly walked to the table, on which was a layer of dust accumulated over the past few days. All the items seemed to be in their places, but two square spots were barely noticeable near the edge, in which dust seemed to sink.The distance between the spots was about 9 inches, as between the pads of a small laptop.

"I think we're done here" Robert muttered.

***

"So someone broke into the house at night, or when the hosts were not there," Robert and Tam were driving away from the Smiths' house toward the police department, "I think we both understand that it was our client."

“Here you go, drawing conclusions again!” Brooks briefly honked the driver who was still standing on the green traffic light signal.

"Maybe it's our client, or maybe just a burglar."

“Burglar who took only a laptop?”

"Did you have time to inspect the rest of the house? Found anything valuable?”

“No, but …”

“Exactly. Maybe he was in a hurry”

“Come on, you're just looking for an excuse not to solve for 2 and 2”

“I'm looking for an excuse to conduct an investigation of a case imposed on me correctly”

"Come on, Bobby, this is an adventure! Now we write a request to New York, find her family ... hey, need to have a leak?”

Robert pulled over and stopped abruptly. After that, he turned his head staring at his partner intensely.

“What?”

Brooks slowly moved his head toward the back seat.

"What’s that?" Bennett looked back “I can’t see anyth…”

Coming to a realization he slowly turned and gave his partner an incredulous look.

"Are you kidding me?"

Robert shook his head sarcastically.

"You're not serious."

"Very serious, Tam." Brooks looked at his watch briefly. "Hurry up, we're running late."

Rolling his eyes Bennett leaned back in his seat looking up above while groping for the handle. Twenty seconds later, when he got into the back seat and slammed the door behind him, Robert said with satisfaction:

"You have to bear responsibility for your words and deeds, dear Tam. Welcome to the world of adults”

He heard a loud raspberry being blown from behind and noticed in the rearview mirror that Bennett was now staring out of the window with his arms folded.

“Who I'm talking to though…” Robert tiredly complained without addressing anyone “Seriously, my eight-year-old son behaves more adequately”

He accelerated and detectives continued their way to the department building.

#chasing ghosts #pinecest #not a statement at all

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americanhollow · 6 years ago

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