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kinkstuffig · 5 years ago

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Feel Me

*Soulmate AU where the injuries of your soulmate show up on your own body*

Ash glanced down at his leg. The purple stain of a bruise was slowly fading. It didn’t cause him any pain, obviously. It belonged to the person who he would love in the future. His soulmate. Who seemed to end up with random bruises fairly often and in the strangest places.

He was glad that he was the only one who could see these injuries. One of the more recent had been a black eye and swollen lip combo, as if someone had beaten him over the head with something. He felt really bad for his soulmate. They had to walk around school and everywhere with everyone else able to see. Whoever they were, these bruises weren’t something you could get by just being clumsy.

Generally, Ash didn’t really pay attention to his soulmates injuries. In the past, they had been more commonplace. A scraped knee, a paper cut, a blister or two. More recently they had been very heavy. Ash was fairly sure that his soulmate was being beaten. He wished he knew who it was so he could do something about it. No one deserved this.

A few days later

In the middle of his math class, Ash began to feel very strange. There was a tightening in his chest. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. There was something wrong happening. He could feel it. He needed to stop it but he didn’t know what it was.

Ash excused himself from class, before going to hide in the school library. Hopefully no one would find him there. The panicked feeling grew. He tapped his fingers nervously on the floor. It was nerve racking, not knowing what was going to happen.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his wrist. He nearly cried out but he bit his lip instead, tasting blood in his mouth. Raising his wrist to eye level, he saw a thin red line forming over the blue veins crisscrossing his skin.

No, he thought. No.

Another line appeared below the first, this one obviously deeper than the last. It was accompanied by a sort of burning ache.

Why, he asked himself. Why would they do this?

More lines crawled their way up his arm, beads of blood bubbling out of them.

Stop, he whispered. Please.

The line forming on his palm paused. It seemed to be deciding whether it would continue. Then it pressed deeper than the others, cleaving the skin so that it split away.

Ash closed his hand, unwilling to look at the gruesome sight. He curled up in a ball, trying to figure out what he was going to do. He attempt to block these thoughts from his mind but every time he shut his eyes or even looked down, there they were, glaring up at him like evil grins.

There wasn’t really anything he could do, was there?

He returned to his classes and when he got home, he dug around in his closet until he found an old pair of fingerless gloves. That and an old hoodie would be his attire until these scars faded. He couldn’t bear to look at the gashes inflicted on himself. Some voice in the back of his head whispered that this was his fault. He could have prevented this.

Ash pulled his black beanie down over his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He needed some rest after the night he’d had. His teacher had other plans. “Wake up, Young Man. What I’m telling you now is important. You’ll use it the rest of your life.”

Bay struggled to keep his eyes open. He was so exhausted but he really needed to pay attention. His head slumped forward but he snapped it back up again in time to see the teacher yelling at another student. This teacher was quite brutal. He felt bad for the poor soul.

But he had his own problems to worry about. “Sir?” Bay raised his hand timidly.

“What is it?” the teacher snapped, turning his frustration from the other student to Bay.

“I’m not feeling well. May I go see the nurse?”

“Oh my god!” the teacher growled. “Have you not been paying attention? I was just explaining to this young man how essential this unit is to your education. You will not survive in this world if you haven’t memorized the concept of conversions. Why don’t students ever listen to me?”

The teacher rambled on but Bay just tuned him out. It was getting more and more easy to do that with adults. Unfortunately, he was actually beginning to feel ill. In fact-

Bay stood up from his seat and quickly walked out of the room. Once in the hallway, he ran to the bathroom and was violently sick. Nothing came up but it was awful just the same.

Ash had watched the scene play out with zero emotion. He was too tired for this bullshit. Why were teachers such assholes? The teacher was now calling the office to warn teachers about a runaway student. Ash put his head down on his desk. He didn’t feel well. He could have gone to the nurse but he was too tired to deal with this shit. The teacher must have given up on forcing children to learn, because Ash didn’t wake up until the bell rang and he had to go to his next class. The world spun for a moment as he stood up but he just brushed it off. The tacos he’d had last night were probably just disagreeing with him.

Bay stood up from his spot by the toilet and immediately sat back down again. If He was too dizzy to stand up, how was he supposed to get to the nurse? He hauled himself up again and leaned on the wall until he thought he could support his own weight again. He was able to make it out to the hall when the bell rang. Passing time. The worst time to be extremely off balance and disoriented.

Bay staggered around, confused, until somebody bumped into him and he fell over. He groaned at the thought of having to get up again. He just wanted to lay down and sleep.

“Hey, are you alright?”

A boy with shaggy dark hair and a concerned expression was bending over him.

“Mmm.” Bay made an incoherent noise and shook his head. Everything was too loud and he wanted to hide in a dark room and make it all go away.

“Shh shh it’s ok. Let me help you up. I’ll take you to the nurse.” The boy with black hair reached out a gloved hand. Bay took it and was surprised at the strength used to haul him to his feel. He swayed and an arm was looked around his waist, holding him upright.

“Wow. You were not lying about being sick earlier.”

Bay made a confused face and The black haired boy explained they shared a math class. They reached the nurse’s office and the boy dropped him off. Bay was sooo happy to lie down on a cot and finally get some sleep.

The nurse shook Bay’s shoulder. “Honey, you need to get up now.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

She shook a tiny bit harder and he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Do you want to go back to class now or do you need to go home? I can call your parents if..”

“I’ll go back to class,” Bay answered quickly. He stood up quickly and swayed. The nurse pushed him back down.

“If you have a transferable disease, I’m afraid you will have to go home. Let me take your pulse.” She grabbed his wrist. He pulled away slightly and his sleeve moved, exposing a few scabs.

“Oh honey, what’s that?”

Bay yanked his hand away from her. “It’s nothing. I just fell on some glass. I’m fine. Best get going. Can’t miss human bio.” He stood up a bit more slowly and made his way to his next class as fast as he possibly could.

Ash stood in the shower, rubbing shampoo into his hair. He loved the way bubbles felt on his skin. It was a guilty pleasure of his, one which he didn’t bother to share with anyone. Suddenly he felt the panic. Though it was routine for him now, it always upset him. Today the red lines cross crossed his thighs. “No more ripped jeans for me,” he sighed. The pain was greater than usual, which was surprising since the cuts were usually deep anyway. He looked down to see his own blood swirling down the drain. At first he thought it was just part of their connection, a more intense projection of emotions. But when he ran his fingers over the cuts, blood came off on his fingers and everything stung under the water. His soulmate had cut too deep, cut into him.

Ash got out of the shower. He tried to bandage the cuts but they kept bleeding through. This was too much for him to handle. He went to bed, hoping that when he woke up, all of this would disappear.

In the morning, he’d forgotten about previous nights events until he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. There were newly healed scars from his elbows to his shoulders and scabbed over cuts from his elbow to his wrist. The cuts on his thighs were just barely shut and some were still sleeping blood. There were a few thin lines on his torso and by his ankles. There was so much destruction it hurt to look at it.

Ash dressed in some black sweats and a hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence, deceive himself again. But he couldn’t get the images out of his head. He left first period and hid in the library to cry. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this but he just couldn’t handle this anymore. He wished he could help whoever it was that felt this was necessary. He didn’t want to live seeing these everyday. Depression covered him like a blanket.

Bay limped to his English class. His leg burned but he needed to finish his essay and how was he supposed to do that in a hospital? The teacher announced they would be working in the library and Bay almost cheered. That was his favorite place to be in this school. It was very quiet and easy to concentrate. People didn’t mine if he went off in a corner to work by himself. Sometimes he’d even stay there a while a skip his other classes.

He needed another source for his essay on rare marine iguanas, so he headed to a shelf. Unlike many of the people in his generation, he preferred books over internet sites. They had a certain thing about them that made them more comfortable, familiar, and personal. As he scanned the bottom row, he saw a tuft of black hair behind a book about macaws. He turned the corner to find a seemingly familiar figure lying on the floor.

At first he thought the person was asleep but when he knelt down beside them, he saw golden brown eyes searching his face. “Hey,” he began shyly. “Remember me? Sorry I didn’t catch your name the other day. I’m Bay. Thanks for helping me. I was pretty out of it.”

The other figure, who appeared masculine, sat up scrubbing his face with his sleeve. “Don’t mention it.” His voice was strained and rough sounding. “I’m Ash.” He held out his fingerless leather gloved hand. Bay shook it.

“I know this is none of my business but may I ask what you’re doing in here? I’m supposed to be working on an essay, but it looks like you were… brainstorming.”

Ash laughed, though his eyes weren’t smiling. “You could say that. Definitely had some deep thoughts to think.” His face merged back into a frown.

Bay took a deep breath. “Do you think you could use a friend to help you think?”

“Friends are always welcome,” Ash said, smiling again.

“Great.” Bay scooched over next to Ash. “So… what is on your mind?”

“Well,” Ash looked down. “This is sort of awkward.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Bay encouraged. “You’ve already seen me in one of my worst moments.”

“I-I have a friend that hurts them self. They keep doing it often and a lot. It makes me very upset because I want to know why they feel this way. Im worried about them. I’m afraid of… what could come next.”

Bay wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. What do you tell someone when they tell you their friend self-harms? He decided the best option was comfort and he reached over to Ash and hugged him.

Ash was very surprised. He wasn’t used to getting hugs from other boys. Not that he had anything against bugs. In fact, this one felt kind of nice. He relaxed into it. Bay stopped panicking as soon as the tension drained out of Ash.

“Thanks,” Ash said, gruffly. He was starting to tear up but he didn’t want to cry again in front of Bay. “It’s very kind of you to want to help me.”

“Anything for a friend.”

“This is nice, but I really should go back to class now.” Ash pulled out of the hug. Bay felt a tiny bit emptier as Ash’s body heat left him but he tried to ignore it.

“See ya.” He gave a little wave.

“Bye.”

They both stood up, Ash preparing to leave and Bay now scanning this shelf for research materials.

Ash turned around as he reached the end of the shelf. “Hey, can I get your number?”

“Sure…” Bay’s voice trailed off. He was feeling extremely lightheaded.

“Bay?” Ash said concernedly. He ran forward to catch Bay as he fell. Ash held the unconscious boy in his arms for a second, trying to take in the situation. A kid had just passed out in the library. He should really tell an adult but he didn’t want to leave Bay unattended. The teachers were all on the other side of the library, making this the perfect place for crying and working quietly. It was not, however, the perfect place to deal with a medical emergency.

Thankfully Bay’s eyes opened a few seconds later. “W-what?” He mumbled.

Ash gently layer him down on the floor. “You just passed out. Do you remember your name and where you are? Does anything hurt?”

“I’m Bay and this is the school library. And… now that you mention it, I’ve got a killer headache.” He covered his eyes and made an uncomfortable sounding noise.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back.” Ash walked quickly to the water fountain and back, hoping he wouldn’t be caught. Food and water wasn’t allowed in the library, as it could damage the books and computers. Ash really didn’t want to get in trouble right now.

“Here. Drink this. it should help.”

Bay took the water bottle and sipped slowly. “It still hurts. But I guess dehydration doesn’t go away in a second.”

“Nope. Is that why you passed out you think?”

“Yea. Probably. I never drink enough water.”

“We should probably tell an adult about this, just in case it turns out to be something a bit more serious.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” To prove his point Bay pushed himself up into a sitting position. His eyes were squinting from the pain in his head.

“Did you eat anything today?” Ash asked, wondering if there could be another possible cause for the episode, but not wanting to alarm Bay with talk of adults and doctors.

“Not yet. I never have breakfast.”

“Did you bring a lunch?”

“I forgot mine today and I don’t have money.”

“I’ll get you something.”

“It’s ok. I’m not hungry.”

“For later then.”

“No. Thanks, but really, I’m good.”

Ash sighed. This child definitely needed some calories in him but he was refusing anything Ash offered.

“Fine. I won’t get you anything.”

Bay almost sighed with relief, but then he caught himself.

“But you’re coming with me after school.”

Bay groaned.

“What? Is the prospect of going somewhere with me that undesirable?”

Bay blushed and laughed. “Never mind. See you then.”

The boys parted ways, Ash returning to a class he hadn’t left and Bay finishing his water before going to turn in some homework.

After school, the boys met in the school parking lot.

“So, I’ll follow you?” Bay suggested.

“Nope. You’re riding with me. I don’t want you to accidentally make a wrong turn. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back here to pick up your car after.”

“Okedoke.” Bay strapped himself into the passenger seat as Ash pressed the gas.

They drove through a town which they were both familiar with and stopped at a McDonalds. Bay’s hands began to sweat. He really didn’t like ordering things at restaurants.

Ash held the door open for him and the bell chimed as they walked in. Bay looked up at the menu. There were so many choices. The words began to spin, calorie sections looming out at him.

“C’mon Bay. It’s our turn to order.” Ash grabbed Bay’s sleeve and tugged him to the counter. “I’ll have a large double bacon cheeseburger, large fries, a large soft drink, and a large McFlurry in strawberry. Bay, what do you want?”

“Oh, I’m not hungry,” Bay muttered.

Ash mad a pouty face. “My treat?”

Bay panicked. What did they serve here anyway? He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Ummm, small fries and water please.”

“A small fries and a water it is then,” Ash beamed at the cashier.

“Coming right up,” the cashier replied cheerily. “You boys wait here.”

Why did you say that? Bay thought to himself. Stupid. Stupid. stupid. Do you have any idea how many calories are in that? Of course you do. The chart is right there idiot. And there are way too many. All that salt, all that grease. There’s nothing healthy about it.

Their food came out of the kitchen and they took it to a table. Ash bit into his burger with gusto, sauce dripping onto his face and hands.

Bay stared down at his small fries. The smell made him nauseous. Thinking about eating them made him want to throw up. He counted them. 27 small fries. 27. That was too big a number to go inside his stomach. He looked up. Ash was watching him as he chewed mouthfuls of burger. Bay picked up the smallest of his twenty seven fries. He felt the salty grease on his fingers. He put it in his mouth he didn’t want it to be in his mouth. His stomach clenched. It would refuse anything thing he put in it. Should he spit this fry out and say it was burnt? He chewed slowly. He felt the crisp outside of the fry crunch against his teeth. The soft guts of mashed potato spilled out onto his tongue. It felt wrong in his mouth. He swallowed. The potato stuck in his throat. He swallowed again. Saliva pooled in his mouth. He was going to be sick. Bay drank some of his water. The mashed up fry was now in his stomach. He could feel it. It was warm compared to the rest of his stomach’s contents, which only consisted of the water from earlier. He didn’t like the way it felt in his stomach he wanted it out. He tried very, very hard not to throw up and waited for Ash to finish eating.

Ash let out a long belch. “Braaap. Hoo! That was a lot. I think I ate too much.” He poked his belly, which was pushing out from under his hoodie.

“Me too,” Bay said quietly.

Ash looked at Bay with a confused expression. “You barely ate anything.”

Bay looked down. “I know. I wasn’t hungry today. Sorry. You can have the rest.”

“But what did you mean by-“

“Never mind.” Bay shook his head and pushed the rest of his fries toward Ash. “It’s nothing.”

“If you say so.” Ash took the extra fries but he chewed them with concern. Bay had been distant and sickly looking the whole time they’d been at the restaurant. He didn’t know Bay very well so this could have been his modus operandum but to Ash this seemed unhealthy.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” Bay said,a little snappishly. A few minutes later, however,he looked even worse. “Could you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the restroom.”

“Sure. I’ll be outside in the car when you’re ready to go.”

“Thanks.” Bay flashed a weak smile before getting up unsteadily and walking quickly to the washroom.

Ash went to stand up and felt a sharp cramp in his middle. He looked down at his belly, which had definitely grown in size since the morning. He was way too full. Thinking about his new acquaintance had distracted him from his stomach’s aching until now. He didn’t feel very well.

He thought he might be sick. He hadn’t thrown up since the third grade when he’d had the swine flu and he was a little afraid of doing it again. Ash hauled himself out of the booth and went into the washroom. He wanted to be prepared, just in case. As he opened the door, he heard retching from one of the stalls. Someone else was being sick. Maybe there was something in the food that was making him feel this way.

The stall opened and Bay emerged. Feeling guilty for not waiting outside like he’d said he would, Ash his behind the door, watching through a crack. Bay washed his hands at the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes and Ash thought he say a tear trickle down Bay’s cheek. Then Bay scrubbed his face with cold water and turned to dry his hands.

Ash ran out to the car, hoping he would be in and casual looking before Bay came out. He was very worried about the boy. He must be really ill to be having all these symptoms.

Abruptly, something inside him shifted and Ash was feeling more uncomfortable than he had for a long while. He could feel everything he’d just swallowed churning in his gut, which wasn’t very happy with him. Ash thought his intestines might burst. He was really glad he hadn’t ordered dessert.

Bay sat in front of the toilet, fingers down his throat. It seemed so normal, so routine, this ritual that he practiced after every forced feeding. If only he didn’t have to do this. If only it wasn’t needed. But he deserved it. He deserved this punishment. He felt awful, both emotionally and physically.

With all his stomach’s meager contents safely in the toilet bowl, he stood up and flushed. The saliva clung to his hand in slimy strings. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. He ran his hands under the water, washing them thoroughly, and rinsed the acid taste he’d grown accustomed to out of his mouth.

Bay stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror. His lips were chubby. His arms were flabby. Even his face was fat. How could anyone bear to look at him? Why did he even bother existing? He felt a tear begin to trickle down his cheek. Being sentimental? “What a pussy. Man up, bitch ass,” he whispered to himself.

He couldn’t be caught looking like he was crying, so Bay scrubbed his face until it looked normal, took a deep breath, and walked out to the car.

As he opened the door, Bay could see the pained expression on Ash’s face. The black haired boy was hunched over, his head resting on the steering wheel. He cradled his distended belly and moaned.

“You ok?” Bay asked, already knowing the answer.

Ash shook his head, not changing position, and moaned again. “That was way too much for any rational minded person to try and fit inside their body. But of course I’m the dumbass with eyes bigger than his stomach.”

“Can I help?” Bay queried, wanting to make his new friend more comfortable.

“Got any suggestions?”

“Well,” He said tentatively, “You could always, you know, get rid of it.”

“Nah, that’s a waste of money. And I really, really don’t like throwing up.” The last sentence came out more like a whimper as an especially powerful cramp squeezed Ash’s belly. He breathed in sharply, clenching his teeth.

“Do you think a belly rub would help?”

Ash looked over at Bay, who was nervously messing with his fingers. “Why not.” Ash groaned. “It can’t make it worse.”

Bay locked the car doors and helped Ash recline his seat back. Having his tender tummy exposed to someone else’s hands was a prospect Ash hadn’t considered for his first outing with a person. Bay gently pulled the lower part of Ash’s hoodie up, revealing a very swollen, very unhappy looking tummy. It bulged out, audibly sloshing and gurgling. An angry red line ran down the center, showing how much it had stretched.

Bay placed his hands on it. They were still cold from the sink water and Ash pulled away in protest at first. Eventually, though, he pushed his hot middle into the cool soothing hands running across it. Bay’s talented fingers massaged out cramps and pressed into pockets of air, resulting in burps and embarrassed looks from Ash.

Secretly, Bay loved the feeling of the taught, feverish skin against his fingertips. the elastic give of human skin was fascinating to him. Occasionally he would playfully poke the belly, gaining surprised yelps from its owner.

Eventually, Ash’s belly had calmed down enough that it wasn’t drowning out their conversation with it’s gurgling and Ash’s pain was tolerable.

“So, did we learn a lesson about overdoing it today?” Bay asked playfully.

“I know I did,” Ash laughed. “But I can’t promise I won’t have to learn it again.” He paused and became a bit more serious. “What about you?”

“What about me?”Bay was suddenly wary.

“I heard you in the bathroom. Are you sick?”

“No.” Bay bit his lip.

“Tell me the truth.” Ash really cared about his new friend. He knew something wasn’t right and he wanted to help him.

“I promise, I’m not sick,” Bay said, his face unreadable. “At least, not in the conventional way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ash demanded.

“You can’t really drive right now,” Bay said, changing the subject. “Would you rather I drive you home and you take me back to school tomorrow or I drive you to school and you chill out there until you’re feeling better.”

Ash frowned. He could tell Bay was avoiding the subject and he knew he could get it out of him. “You didn’t answer my question. And why couldn’t we go to your house?”

“Well, you didn’t answer mine either.”

“I asked first.”

Bay shoved Ash over into the passenger seat. “Your house it is then. Address please?”

“Not until you answer my question.”

“My dad’s home. Address please?”

“Huh?”

“I answered your question. We can’t go to my house because my dad’s home. Address?” Bay was becoming visibly unsettled. Ash knew he really didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him.

“I’m not done with this,” Ash said quietly, before telling Bay the address.

A few minutes later, the car pulled into the driveway of a one-story brick house in a residential neighborhood. It was small, but the bursting garden and light catchers in the window made it cozy and homelike.

“Nice flowers,” Bay commented. He could smell the blooms without rolling down his window.

“It’s my mom’s thing. She likes crafts and projects. Gives her something to do. Keeps her from being bored.” Ash hauled himself out of the car. He could walk on his own and the food was settling, but his large belly was unmissable.

They walked to the porch and Ash opened the door. “Hey Mom, I’m home,” he called as he stepped inside, beckoning for Bay to follow him.

A chubby lady, seeming to be in her late forties and with a multitude of blonde curls came running towards them. She hugged Ash, probably a bit too tightly as his face changed color for a few seconds, and then stepped back. “Honey, you’re home kind of late. Anything you want to tell me?”

“Mom, this is my friend Bay. I took him out to a late lunch and brought him over to hang out. We left his car at the school so is it ok if he stays over?”

“Well, I don’t see why not darling. Should I cook up something extra scrumptious for dinner then?”

Bay shook his head slightly at Ash, pleading with his eyes. Ash complied. “Actually, we just finished and we’re really full. We might have overdone it. But thanks for the offer, Mom.”

“I can tell,” she said, playfully poking his belly. “Well, run along then. Don’t break anything.”

“I won’t, Mom.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Come on, Bay. I want you to meet my dog.”

The boys walked down a hallway and entered Ash’s room. It was as punk/emo/goth as you’re picturing, with band posters hung up everywhere. Dirty clothes, mostly in black, were scattered across the floor. An unmade bed- really a mattress with sheets- was tucked in one corner of the room, while a battered wooden dresser sat in the one diagonal from it.

Ash flopped down on his bed, propping himself up with a few ratty pillows. Bay made himself a sort of nest out of the clothes on the floor, though he had a very strong urge to wash them, fold them neatly, and shove them all back into the dresser.

They made small talk for a few minutes before Ash again brought up the dreaded subject. “Why aren’t you eating?”

The question caught Bay by surprise, even though he had been expecting it. He could feel the tears returning to his eyes and he really didn’t want to cry. “This topic makes me uncomfortable. Could we please not talk about it?” He asked meekly.

Ash felt bad for prying. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you upset. But this seems like a serious issue. I know we haven’t know each other that long but you’re my friend and I care about you.”

Bay’s heart pounded nervously. He hadn’t told anyone this before. But maybe he would feel better once it was out in the open. “I,” He began slowly. “I have an eating disorder.” He tensed, preparing for the blows he was used to but none came. He searched Ash’s face for signs of anger and disgust. Instead he found confusion.

“I’m sorry. I don’t really know what that is. Could you explain it for me please?” He looked genuinely curious, not like he was teasing, so Bay decided to risk it.

“I just don’t eat. Or when I do, I purge it. If I can’t purge in time, then I punish myself but that doesn’t happen often.”

“Why?” This question was something Bay hadn’t exactly thought about before. He knew what he felt when he did it but the actual cause he wasn’t sure of.

“I deserve it, I guess,” he answered.

“You know that doing that can result in death, right?” Though not intended or toned to be sarcastic, Bay felt like his trust had been betrayed already.

“Like I said, I deserve it,” he muttered, no longer looking at Ash.

“You’re so young to die, though. You’ve got the whole rest of your life to do something great.” Ash honestly didn’t understand how anyone could want to die. Even on his worst days, like this one, he knew there were people he had to live for, people who needed him. He’d feel so guilty even considering the idea.

“Everyone dies,” Bay said darkly, as he unlaced his shoe. “Why does it matter when it happens?

Ash didn’t really have an answer to that. He wasn’t sure what to say. He rolled over, leaving his back toward Bay. He needed some time to think.

Now along with his soulmate, who’s life wasn’t great, he had another person to take care of. Not that he didn’t want to take care of people. It actually made him feel like he had a purpose. But these weren’t problems that he knew how to deal with. Ash did some googling for a while.

Bay had gotten his shoelace entirely out of his sneaker. He put it around his neck, above his choker, then tied it with a slip knot and pulled. He wasn’t actually going to kill himself of course. He knew his limit. This was just a game he played with himself when he was very upset. Sort of like how long can you hold your breath, except there were two ways to lose.

Ash looked up. “Hey, stop that!”

Bay turned towards him, letting go of the lace. “What?”

“You know what. Come here.” Ash looked frustrated. Bay was scared. Ash seemed nice but one could never be too sure. Bay slowly came over to Ash’s mattress and sat down.

“You can’t do things like this.” Ash carefully untied the lace from Bay’s neck, sliding it into the pocket of his own hoodie.

“Why not?” Bay asked petulantly.

“There are people who care about you, people who want you to be safe, to live. You’re scaring me. I knew that suicide was a thing but i’ve never met anyone who was suicidal.”

“That you know of,” Bay added quietly. “People aren’t always as open about it as i am.”

“Oh.” Ash sat silently for a second. He hadn’t thought of that. Of course not everyone would say exactly what they were feeling. He knew he didn’t all the time. This was a lot to take in and Ash was still a little overwhelmed. He wanted some time to process everything but now he knew he had to keep an eye on Bay.

“Let’s watch a movie,” Ash suggested. Bay nodded in agreement. Ash pulled up Netflix on his laptop and scooted Bay closer to him on the bed. Having both read Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for an English Lit assignment, the tv show Sherlock seemed like a good choice.

They binge watched the first two seasons, becoming mesmerized by Benedict Cumberbatch’s acting skills and enjoying John Watson as a character. During dramatic moments, Ash used Bay’s entrancement as a cover to slowly get closer, first just touching fingers, then holding hands, and finally putting his arm around him.

He hoped that Bay would see this as a friendly gesture, or possibly one meaning that the eerie soundtrack was affecting him. Really, however, these actions were to keep Bay from escaping. Ash was good at reading most people and knowing how they were feeling, or so he thought, but Bay was unpredictable. He didn’t know what Bay was capable of and he was slightly afraid that Bay might try something else untoward.

This tactic was working so far. Bay had noticed the increasing closeness of his friend. He wasn’t sure in what context to put it but he knew that using the “I need to use the bathroom” excuse would no longer work. He was enjoying the film and the non-threatening physical contact was kind of nice. Bay tried to relax. It was going pretty well until Ash had yawned for the seventh time.

Bay paused the show. “Are you getting tired? It’s only nine.”

“A bit, yea. A heavy meal does make one sleepy. It’s probably a good time for us both to turn in. I’ll have to take you back home tomorrow.”

That last sentence was the one that ruined it all. Home was not a happy place for Bay, nothing like it was for Ash. But he was already so freaked out that Bay didn’t dare tell him another awful thing. However, he’d already decided that he wasn’t going home.

“Good idea. Do you mind if i leave the show playing though? TV helps me sleep.”

“Same. Sure, why not?”

Bay glued his eyes to the screen, determine not to fall asleep. The show was really good and he wouldn’t have wanted to miss any even if he didn’t also have ulterior motives.

Ash eventually nodded off, his head slowly falling onto Bay’s shoulder, and his grip on Bay’s waist loosening. Bay waited until he could hear the heavy breathing of deep sleep. He was very practised at this.

Carefully, he slid Ash’s head onto a pillow and his arm around a stuffed goth bear. Bay was free. He eased open the door and stepped into the hall. Though it was very dark in Ash’s room (lights off, shades down, and dusky outside(perfect for watching netflix)), his parents were still awake so the lights were on. Bay’s eyes took a moment to adjust.

He hadn’t really payed much attention to his surroundings before but now his instincts kicked in and he noticed more things. For instance, the carpet in this hallway was deep which would make it easier to walk quietly but the walls were papered with a cheery bluebell print on mustard yellow, a hard to keep clean color palette. A few feet forwards on the opposite wall was a white door he thought might lead to the bathroom. He shuffled down the hallway until he reached the living room. Ash’s mom was watching Criminal Minds and crocheting doilies out of neon green and orange yarn. A man Bay assumed was Ash’s father could be seen through a sliding glass door smoking cigarettes on a slightly run down patio. another doorway opened into what looked like a kitchen.

Bay ran through his plan. Originally he had thought about trying to get sleeping pills but it would be hard to think of a plausible reason to need them, as it was only nine and people his age often didn’t sleep until much later. Complaining of a headache would be much more likely to happen.

Bay stepped out into the open. Ash’s mother looked up. “Oh, hello dear. Is there anything i can do for you?”

Bay put a hand to his forehead and made a pained expression. “I’ve got a killer headache. Do you have some aspirin or something?”

Ash’s mom frowned. “Normally i wouldn’t give medicine to a child that wasn’t my own.”

Bay turned his ‘i feel like i’m dying’ face up a notch.

“You look so pitiful. I suppose it can’t hurt. There’s some tylenol in the cabinet above the sink in the bathroom down the hall. Do you want me to get you a glass for water?”

“No thank you, ma’am.”

“Alright. I hope you boys are enjoying your sleepover.” She giggled to herself and winked at him slightly.

Bay knew what she was implying but he just turned away and rolled his eyes. Entering the bathroom he saw a long counter with two sinks, above which were two mirror fronted cupboards. Behind the door was a toilet and next to it was a shower/bathtub combo. Bay reached into one of the cupboards and found the bottle of Tylenol. It was almost empty, only containing twelve tablets. Twelve would probably do the trick. Bay got some water from the tap and swallowed them all, then threw the bottle in the trash and waited.

(One tablet is 500 mg. The highest dose allowed is 4000 mg in 24 hours, meaning 8 tablets.)

The clock on the wall said he’d been in the bathroom for an hour. Nothing had happened. He didn’t feel any different. Maybe if there had been more of them… He got up from the floor where he’d been sitting and went to open the door, planning to go back to bed. Instead he was face to face with a very worried looking Ash.

“What were you doing up?”

“I had to pee.”

“Really?”

“Why else would i be in the bathroom?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

Bay was about to pretend to be offended when he noticed the unnaturally pale tinge to his friends face.

“Are you ok?”

“Fine. Why?”

“You don’t look ok.”

“Ummm…” Before Ash could deny it, he was running to the toilet, holding his middle. He began vomiting, quite forcefully. Bay tried not to watch. The entire contents of Ash’s stomach were emptied into the porcelain bowl before he was able to sit back and pant.

“I guess all that McDonald’s didn’t settle so well,” Bay commented.

“Shut up,” Ash gasped.

At that moment, Ash’s mom appeared in the open doorway. “Oh my, Ash. You didn’t tell me you were feeling sick too.”

“Too?”

“Your friend here came to me with headache complaints a little bit ago and now here you are throwing up. I hope this isn’t a bug. You can’t afford to miss anymore days of school.”

Ash made an accusatory face at Bay before turning back to his mom. “I don’t think it’s a bug mom. My dinner just didn’t agree with me, that’s all. And Bay doesn’t drink enough water.”

“Will you be alright darling?”

“We’ll be fine mom. Go back to your crafts.”

“Ok then.” She left the room, but still carried a worried expression.

Ash turned to Bay as soon as she was gone. “What did you do?”

“What did i do? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ash was about to respond, but instead he hunched over and moaned. “Fuck, this hurts a lot.”

Silently, Bay regretted taking all of the tylenol. Ash could have used it now. Bay knelt down on the floor next to Ash. “Are you sure that this is from all that before? It seems a little intense compared to previously.”

“To be honest, i probably am sick.” Ash gritted his teeth as another cramp felt as though someone was stabbing him in the gut. “I just don’t want to worry my mom. She already thinks i have ‘problems’.”

Bay maneuvered his hands into the position they had been in when they were in the car. Gently, he tried to massage the pain away. He could tell by the way Ash tensed and relaxed that it was helping a little but not much.

He wished he was a better person and not such a terrible fuck up. If he didn’t hate himself so much, Ash would make a really nice friend. But if he couldn’t love himself, how could he love someone else.

Ash leaned back against Bay, whose arms were wrapped around him. “I’m tired.”

Ash’s hoodie smelled really nice. And he was soft. And suddenly Bay had a very strong urge to cuddle him. He lay his head on Bay’s shoulder and muttered a non-committal “mmmm”.

Ash woke up to the light streaming through his blinds and a searing pain in his abdomen. Also he was on his bed and Bay was spooning him, which was rather nice and he would have enjoyed it except for the part where he wanted to cry because of the pain. He curled in on himself, trying not to wake Bay up but ending up doing so anyway.

“Hey,” Bay whispered.

Ash just grunted. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he opened his mouth but he knew it wouldn’t be good.

“Are you ok?” Ash shook his head.

“Is it worse?” He nodded.

“I’m gonna go get your mom,” Bay said worriedly. Ash tried to protest but Bay was insistent. “If it’s something serious, like an appendix, then we need to get you looked at right away. It’s better to be worried for a good reason than to not worry about true danger.”

Bay got Ash’s mom, who was making waffles in the kitchen, and told her the situation. While extremely flustered, she did know what to do. She went out and started the car, while Bay helped Ash get out to it. The pain was so bad, he could barely stand up.

Bay was the only one who noticed the stove was still on so he quickly flipped the switch before they left. The lingering smell of burnt batter in the air twisted his stomach and he started to feel nauseous.

When they reached the ER, doctors immediately took him into a room and gave him a once over. Appendix and poisoning were their main hypothesis. However when they did the examinations to see if either were true, everything checked out as perfectly normal. The doctors decided to put Ash on pain meds and keep him for observation.

They moved him into a room in the regular hospital. Ash’s mom filled out paperwork at a small table in the corner and Bay alternated between admiring Ash’s face and concentrating on not throwing up. Based on the fact that Ash’s mom hadn’t even considered sending him home or breakfast for either of them, he could tell she was really stressed and he didn’t want to make things any worse for her.

Ash was watching Bay. now with the pain meds coursing through his veins, he could think clearly again and he was trying to remember what exactly had happened the night before. He knew that they had cuddled and Bay had tried to comfort him but what was before that. His nausea had woken him up and then he’d noticed Bay wasn’t there, which made him very panicky. So he got up to find him, checking first in the bathroom because it was the most logical place. He did find him but then he got sick and that was that. There was something beforehand though, something else. A bottle in the garbage he remembered. But a bottle to what?

At that moment, Bay threw up. He had tried so hard but he couldn’t keep it down any longer. The thin stream of vomit pooled around his shoes. Ash’s mom looked up, surprised. Ash narrowed his eyes. It was the bottle of pain meds!

He knew that Bay was depressed but he didn’t think he would overdose in someone else’s house. Ash pressed the call nurse button on his bed as Bay continued to retch, although his stomach had been nearly empty to begin with.

When the nurse arrived, she wasn’t sure where to look. “Call poison control,” Ash told her. “It’s an overdose.”

“What??!” Ash’s mom was very confused.

“What did you tell him to take for the headache?”

“Tylenol but-”

Ash turned to the nurse. “That’s what he overdosed with. It would have been a little before ten last night.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” the nurse asked as she lifted Bay onto a gurney and prepared him for transport.

“He probably took it on an empty stomach and he’s only had water for like, a while, several hours. Please don’t let him die.”

“We’ll do our best honey.” the nurse rushed away, leaving Ash’s mom in stunned silence.

“Fuck. this was my fault. I shouldn’t have let him out of my sight. I knew something like this might happen.”

Though ash’s mom wasn’t exacctly sure what had just happened, she knew she had to comfort her son. “If someone wants to do something like that, they will. You can’t stop them once they put their mind to it and it’s nobodies fault but their own, so don’t blame yourself. Didn’t you only meet him yesterday?”

“No, i’ve met him before that. And i think i’ve known him my whole life.”

“Really? How could you know him that long? I’ve never met him before.”

“I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Oh.”

Afterward

Ash was right. Bay was his soulmate. The symptoms had appeared in Ash first because:A it would save Bay and B the effects of a tylenol overdose can take up to 24 hours to appear but because they were soulmates, it happened differently.

Bay survived, but the doctors diagnosed him with depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder. He told them about his abusive father and they let him stay in the hospital until he was recovered, and then decided he should live with Ash’s family. Being soulmates, it was much easier for Ash to tell when Bay was feeling down, upset, or scared and he would know if Bay self-harmed. They worked through everything together.

#self harm #anxiety #anorexia

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audreyannerp · 5 years ago

Text

Pen Pals

(A roleplay between @askaudreyanne / @audreyannerp and @red-rad-and-rod .) It had been about a week since Audrey met J.C. and his siblings. It was kind of hard to miss them, given Lola seemingly bee-lined towards them during their stay at the park. She was grateful for her pooch’s detour, however, as the three proved to be good company (as did their father, who they had lunch with.) She wasn’t sure how long she should wait before emailing J.C., but figured a week was a long enough wait to not seem overly eager. She did originally intend to only send pictures of the dogs to show his sisters, but now she wanted to talk to him too. She decided to start slow, with a simple email. This is J.C., right? It’s Audrey, from Michigan. Here are some pictures of Lola in some flowers. She wasn’t supposed to be in them, but I just had to snap a few pictures before I got her out! Let me know how you three like them! She hoped asking for a response would lead the way to them talking about more than dogs.

- Ping! Oh, thank goodness, something to actually respond to! Surfing through a seemingly never ending list of ads for things he didn’t need was starting to get tiresome. A few clicks later, J.C. found himself searching through his e-mail. Hmm…junk. Junk. E-mail from Audrey- wait. E-mail from Audrey? … Ah, right! That was who he met over in Michigan when he and the family were over in Michigan! Man…even though they had only hung out for a little bit, he missed her. Her beautiful smile, her cute giggle…sigh~ Snapping out of his little lovestruck trance, he went ahead and read through the message, snickering a bit as he got a glimpse of Lola being a goofball. A short while later (mainly after Syd and Kat stopped squealing over the little pup), he sent back a reply: Yyyyup, it is! At least, that’s what people have been calling me for 23 years… Ahaha, I kid, I kid. 😋 What a little goofball! She’s such a sweetie. Syd and Kat seem to think so too, given the fact that they’ve been fawning over her for the past fifteen minutes or so. And reignited the whole “Mum, Dad, let’s get a dog!” debate, but that’s to be expected. How have things been over by you? - Audrey wasn’t the type to live on her phone or computer, so it was a good thing she had written a note to herself to check her email later. Upon coming home that evening and checking her notebook of reminders, she brought up her email and took a look. She chuckled at J.C.’s response and promptly began typing a reply, pleased he wanted to chat. (Or was at least acting like he wanted to, in order to be polite.) Ohhh deeaarrr XD I hadn’t intended to start a debate. Could you please tell them I’m sorry? Anyway, things have been pretty ordinary over here. Weather is still pretty nice, so I’ve been taking Lola on longer walks. She got a little over excited today though and ran into someone’s garden, as you saw. I was sure to tell her no… after I stopped laughing and taking pictures! XD So, how have things been on your end? - After hitting send, J.C. had to think…did it sound like he seem interested? Did he sound bored? Should he have added more emojis? …Nah, maybe that would’ve been a bit excessive. Maybe a little immature…who knows, maybe Audrey would have thought that Syd or Kat took hold of his computer. Now came the waiting game. He would’ve done a bit more internet browsing, if he hadn’t have been dragged outside by Syd for a game of football. That was probably a more productive way to spend his time, anyway. No real need to worry. (…) Later on, now relaxing with a cup of tea, he went back on and found a reply. Haha, I will! They’ve been getting that for years, but I’m sure they’d appreciate the regards. Glad to see the weather’s manageable. Kind of makes me wish I was back there; right now, we’ve had a couple of gales come through. Nothing too bad, but having to be stuck inside for most of the day. Plus side, it’s supposed to clear up soon. Oooooh, Lola, what’s your mum going to do with you? 😂 Kind of reminds me of this time when Syd was a toddler…she’d done the same thing with our next-door neighbour’s back garden. I’ll have to send the picture in my next e-mail, but the end result was her being held (gently, of course) by her overall straps by our neighbour’s sheepdog! - Audrey discovered his reply the following morning. While she sent her reply early, it was likely the afternoon over where J.C. was. Wish you were here for the weather? Are you sure you don’t just want to see me? HA! I kid. I kid. We barely know each other. Aaaanywaaaaay… A sheepdog holding a toddler? That sounds both hilarious and adorable! You have GOT to send me that picture! Let’s just hope karma doesn’t come back to bite me. Mom and Dad recorded EVERYTHING when I was a kid. They have soooo many VHS tapes in the basement. Photo albums too. For a non-photogenic child, they sure loved taking pictures of me. - Why did time zones have to be a thing? He could respond at ten in the morning, and it’d only be five A.M. over by her…ah well. Upon reading Audrey’s response, he couldn’t help but blush a little. Okay, yeah, part of it was the weather, but part of it was because he wanted to see her. Weeeeell, that would be a major plus, if I’m being honest. …Does that sound creepy? Jeez, I hope it doesn’t; virtual communication’s tricky that way. 😓. If it did sound that way, I do apologize! Guess, ah…guess I should get on with the rest of this reply. Heheh… Don’t worry, little me wasn’t exactly the poster child for being photogenic, either. Guess it must be a parent thing…mine were the same way. I’ve made sure to bury one of the albums that has the MOST embarrassing ones as deeply as I can in storage, but somehow they keep finding it. Speaking of ‘embarrassing’ photos… Ask and ye shall receive~ Not going to lie, her face still cracks me up; sort of like she’s saying “Curses! Foiled again!”

- Audrey was pleasantly surprised to see that J.C. seemed to enjoy her company as well. Aw, really? You’re sweet~ <3 Don’t worry; no creepiness detected! Well, you know parents and their magic able-to-find-stuff powers. You could search for something for hours and they’ll point to it right in front of your face! That photo is somehow more adorable and hilarious than I thought it would be! She really was a scamp from the very beginning, wasn’t she? Anyway, if you’re interested, maybe I could tell you a bit about myself and vice-versa? Make sure I’m someone you want to see again? - Oh, good! This was off to a great start~ Phew! Good, good. Just want to make sure, y’know? True, true. Heck, you could try to send something that you don’t want seen to…I don’t know, Antarctica…and they’d still manage to find it. Haha, yeeeeah; once she started crawling, it was all downhill from there! Sure, why not? I think it’s better one-on-one as opposed to doing it in front of a group, like on the first day of school. That whole “what’s your name, what’s your major, one fun fact about yourself” spiel. How should we do this? Do you want to go first or should I? - Well, I suggested it, so I guess I’ll go first. Now let’s see… My full name is Audrey Anne Davis. I’m currently 24 years old and my birthday is March 27th. I’m a college graduate and I work as a personal trainer at a local gym. My hobbies include working out, cooking, listening to music, and dancing. Not sure what else to put so, uh, your turn! (P.S. Feel free to ask me anything!) - My turn it is, then. Soooo, let’s see…mine is Jean-Claude Henri Malone (née Bellerose), currently 23, aaaand my birthday’s August 23rd. Right now, I’m working on my bachelor’s (almost done, though!)…started in gen. studies, decided to do something with humanities. I do a bit of work at the student bookstore, aaaand my hobbies include listening to music, playing videogames, reading…aaaand I would say I enjoy a bit of footy every now and again. Aha, dancing, eh? Any specific training (e.g. ballet, hip hop, anything of that sort) or is it more like “put on some tunes and see where the music takes you”? (P.S. Likewise!) - I have to admit, I had to Google née and footy. XD Anyway, I learned to dance from my dad. He took some classes when he was a kid, but is mostly self taught. (He’s REALLY good!) I pretty much just go with the music. I know some specific dance moves, but I don’t really know how to do those fancy dances you’d do at a ball. What kind of books do you like to read? I’m not much of a reader myself, but I do listen to audio books on occasion. I’m not exactly the brightest bulb, so I try to stick to books that don’t have seven layers of meanings you have to analyze in order to understand and enjoy them. - Ah, yes, the “English to English” thing. If I find one of those sorts of dictionary, I’ll be sure to send it your way. XD Interesting! That’s how I tend to dance as well…I’ve been meaning to take one of those “ballroom dancing” classes, just for the heck of it, buuuut…dunno, haven’t had the time as of late. (Or a partner for that matter, but that was a different story.) Just kind of want it as some random skill to have under my belt. I’m not super picky- if something looks interesting, I’ll pick it up, read the first couple of chapters, see where it goes. Though I will say, audio books are a godsend…always good for plane or car rides, if you’re not the one driving. I totally feel you on that whole “analysis” thing; that used to throw me in secondary school so much. “The blue door is supposed to represent the main character’s feelings of sadness”…mmmmaaaaybe the author just really likes the colour blue? 🤔 Personally, I always like to recommend “Le Petit Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry (don’t worry, there is an English translation…and about 298 others, haha). There’s some analysis like that that could come with it, but not a ton. It’s one of those stories that doubles as a “children’s” story and one for adults, as well. - You never know when you’ll have to break into a waltz! I jotted down that title in my handy dandy notebook, so I should remember to look into it. (The act of writing things down helps me to remember. You should see how many notebooks I go through in a year! LOL) Speaking of children’s stories, have you ever read any Goosebumps books? I only read one as a kid and it really scared me, so I never read any more. I wonder if I could handle them now. The problem is my fight or flight response is just a fight response. If I get nervous, I might hit things out of reflex. I once accidentally broke my dad’s nose as a kid because he snuck up on me. I felt SO BAD. My mom couldn’t stop laughing though. She was actually recording when it happened, so that infamous family moment is on tape. - True, very true! 🤣 I have, actually! Read a few when I was a bit younger- my favourite had to be the ‘Night of the Living Dummy’ stories. They were pretty creepy, I have to admit…although I stumbled upon another series around the same time that, I argue, is quite creepier. I’m not sure if a series known as “Grizzly Tales for Gruesome Kids” made its way over to the states, but hoooo boy. It was made into a TV series as well…not much better in terms of toning down the creepiness. I used to say it makes Goosebumps look like Mother Goose! 😮 (Granted, I don’t think Goosebumps is supposed to be a series that scares you into good behaviour whereas G.T.F.G.K. sort of is, buuuut…still kind of has you going “WHAT did I just read?!”) Okay, just reading that made me cringe, ouch! Remind me to never spook you…or if there’s ever a time we’re over in the states for Halloween, remind me to not take you to a haunted house/scary movie. If it’s any consolation, there’s quite a bit of embarrassing footage of small me as well, haha. “Cowboy J.C.”, “Super J.C.”, tiny siblings/cousins spitting up on me, you name it. 😅 - It doesn’t sound familiar to me, but I was never on the lookout for such things. Scaring kids into behaving? Ick. I’m of the belief that you should influence a child with positivity. I don’t mean in a spoiling kind of way. I just think finding the cause of a problem is more important than punishing the child. And when it does come to punishments, never do something that can damage them in the long run. Don’t be too lenient though. It is important to learn that actions have consequences. There has to be a balance. Sorry for the ramble there. It’s just that the way children are treated is important to me and I do not censor myself with such things. I’ll be sure to remind you. I’m not a fan of scary things. Unless they’re a fun type of scary, like paper bats or those fuzzy spider decorations. We’ve only ever had really silly looking spider decorations at our house during Halloween because my mom’s arachnophobic. If they’re too realistic, she gets the heebie-jeebies. Speaking of embarrassing, I feel it only fair to you and Syd that I share a photo of my own.

Guess who. - Hey, that’s fair! And makes sense, too. My thing is just…kind of let them do their thing (to an extent) and experience the world, just guide them along the way, you know? If they’re being a little butt (or rather, standard kid who’s still learning) about something, tell them why they shouldn’t be in a way that they understand; cause and effect. Like yes, you may want to eat six ice lollies in a row, but if you do, you’ll get a stomachache. Kiddo knows from experience that stomachaches suck, so a compromise of one or two ice lollies is made. As you said, balance is key. Aaaah, arachnophobia. Guess I’ll have to tell Syd that if she wants to show your mum a cool spider she found to…well, not to. XD; Awww-ha-ha-ha-haaaw, caught red-handed! I guess since I’ve put Syd and you through it, I figure one of mine wouldn’t hurt, either:

Apparently, small me did not like the idea of a fork, haha. - I’m glad we have similar views on children. I think we’re going to get along juuuuuust fiiiiiiiine. (Don’t get me wrong. I won’t hold it against anyone if they aren’t good with kids. Just don’t be mean to them.) Awww, you’re adorable~ Hmm… This email is a little short. I’ll just add some random stuff about me here. I love plush animals and have a LOT of them. My favorite fruit is either strawberries or raspberries. I hate pickles, but I like cucumbers. I can do the splits. … I’m out of stuff to say. - Right? I mean, they’re people, too. Just…y’know, tiny. XD As long as you try, then that’s what counts. Eheheheh, I mean…kiiinda? 😅 This was one of the ones I could find that wasn’t completely embarrassing. I think Dad’s in possession of one of the ones that would made me melt into a puddle of shame. Hm, so’s this one. Guess I’ll follow suit? My favoruite fruits are probably apples and watermelon. I can touch the tip of my nose with my tongue. I like those indoor trampoline parks, buuuut the last place you’ll catch me is in the foam block pit (of course, guess who loves to go in those). If I had to pick my top three favourite animals, I’d have to say either cats (big or small), dogs (same), ooooor elephants. - I can’t really think of much to say this time around, but I’ll leave you with this. Given your favorite animals, I’d say I can always rely on you to address the elephant in the room! - LOL! 🤣🤣🤣 Haha, that’s alright. Guess that means we’ll have more to talk about the next time around. I think?I hope? XD; - It was a few days later that Audrey took the time to really sit down and think of something to write. Sorry for the wait on this one. I wanted to actually have something to say this time. Before I forget though, did you guys remember to try Blue Moon ice cream while you were here? Anyway, I find it so odd to think about how, if it wasn’t for Lola, we might have never met. Well, maybe not never, given our dads work for the same company. We might not have met until much later, if not for Lola. How neat and silly is it that my dog found me a pen pal? Also, I was able to think up some more questions for you! What are some of your favorite animated movies? What about songs? Desserts? Oh! By the way, here’s a video of Daisy my mom took the other day. It’s amazing how high that little dog can jump when treats are involved. - Now, logically, J.C. knew that taking a few days to respond was no real issue. Perhaps Audrey had gotten preoccupied with other tasks. That was typical for a twenty-something nowadays (he should know, he was one). A small part of him, though, couldn’t help but feel as though she had lost interest in him. If he had, he wasn’t the kind of person to be bitter about it…maybe a bit upset, but…Audrey was her own person, she had the right to make her own decisions. When he got a reply a few days later, that fear had melted away…then again, a video of a little dog getting some serious air in the name of treats always helps. Hey, no worries! We did, actually. Interesting flavour! Kind of like cotton candy, but also kind of not. If “blue” itself can qualify as a flavour, I guess, that’s what I’d call it. Kind of bites that wer don’t have it over here. Guess that gives me a reason to go back to the States, LOL. Ooo, okay, let’s see…I’d have to say one of the more recent ones is Ernest & Celestine. When I was little, apparently, I used to watch My Neighbor Totoro at least once or twice a week. I don’t remember, though, if I had watched it in English or in Japanese with the subtitles on. Might have been the latter, I only know the song in Japanese (and that’s….probably the extent of my Japanese XD. I can’t translate it, but I can sing it, so there’s that!). Songs, I’m all over the place, so I can’t exactly list a specific one. Mum and Dad like the Beatles, and they grew on me, sooo I guess there’s them? Will have to get back to you on that one, haha. Dessert-wise…can’t go wrong with creme brulee, that’s for sure~ Hot fudge sundaes are a close second. To be honest, I’ll take any offerings when it comes to sweets. 😋 Ha! Man, she’s got some power there…imagine her trying to make slam dunks! …Granted…that’s….kind of hard to do without thumbs, but…you get what I mean. I think? I know, right? I’m not entirely sure what dogs think about, but can you imagine if she was actively/knowingly playing matchmaker? ‘yes, hello there other human, meet mine’. 🤣 Guess that makes it my turn for questions? Mine are kind of weird, but: What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? What was the last song you sung along to? What’s your favorite type of day? (weather, temp, etc.) - Blue really is the best way to describe that flavor! Hard to imagine that ice cream as any other color. Then again, it might work in another color as long as it’s pastel. I think it’s pastel flavor. LOL Ernest & Celestine looks adorable! As for the other one… Honestly, it would probably have scared me as a kid. I think it’s the art style. Something about how big their mouths get, maybe. I don’t know… Nothing against the movie though! Just not my preference in style, you know?I’d say a few of my favorite animated movies are The Lion King, Lilo and Stitch, and the Emperor’s New Groove. I like to think New Groove is safe for any audience because no one dies; not even the villain.I like the Beatles as well! My music taste is varied. If something sounds good, I like it. Genre doesn’t really matter. Creme brulee? I’ve never had that. I do like custard though, so I imagine I would like it. And who doesn’t like hot fudge sundaes?! I love sweets as well! Yeah, I get it! Maybe we could get her a little basketball and hoop? She could carry the ball in her mouth! Her dribbling will be drool! XD I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what dogs are thinking. As for your questions, rock climbing might be fun? I’ve climbed indoor rock walls, but never the real thing. I honestly can’t remember the last song I sung along to. I kind of sing bits and pieces or hum when I listen to music, as opposed to full on singing along. Maybe I can go with the most recent song on my iPod? It was Fortune Teller by Maroon 5. I tend to find good things in any type of day, really. If I had to choose though, I’d say a sunny mid-spring day. The temperature would be right in the middle, not too hot, not too cold. Maybe the occasional cool breeze to help you feel alive, but enough sun that you don’t need a light jacket, but can wear one without burning up. Woof! That was a lot of typing! Maybe we could do an audio chat or something, one of these days? She hoped she wasn’t being too forward, but, seeing as they’ve spoken in person, she reasoned it wasn’t a big deal. - 😂😂😂 Eh, blue, pastel…close enough. Still tasty, regardless! 😋 Totally understandable! To each their own, right? Ooo, I might have to recommend New Groove to Kat. I’ve seen it a couple of times, but she hasn’t. I think anytime we’ve tried to settle down and watch it, something comes up (i.e., she’s going to a friend’s house, I had plans with a few of my friends, etc.). Lilo and Stitch is a pretty good one (def. one of Syd’s faves), and who DOESN’T like The Lion King? Can’t help but sing along with it, haha. Remind me to send you a recipe for some. It can be a little tricky, but it’s not like you have to have four or five things going at once. J.C. stopped typing for a couple minutes, trying to move his wrists around and get some of the building carpal tunnel aches to calm down a bit. Maybe Audrey had the right idea, switching over to audio calls… As for audio chat, I’m perfectly fine with that! Just want to let you know that I am about four to five hours ahead of your time zone (I believe that’s what it is? Daylight Savings is a weird concept…I guess for part of the year, it’s four and then the other part is five.). Whenever you’re feeling up to it. :) - Oh, right. Forgot about the time difference. Oops. LOL I tend to wake up at six in the morning and head to bed around ten at night. My work schedule isn’t a typical nine to five deal, being a personal trainer and all. I generally work when the client isn’t; so it’s usually in the mornings and evenings. I suppose the best time to catch me is early in the morning and midday, my time. Or on my days off, of course. Do you have an account on Discord? I figured we could do our chatting there. - Time-zones, mon amie; Une vraie douleur dans le cul…😩 Early morning, midday, and days off…duly noted! So that’d be afternoon to early evening here, I believe. Works out, though- my available times tend to be later in the day my time. I do- Name on there is OuiOuiJC#0714. If you see a profile picture that has a ferret in a beret, and they’re holding a baguette and glass of wine, that’s me. - Audrey couldn’t help but giggle at his username and profile picture. Rather than email him again, Audrey sent him a friend request from her Discord; AudreySugarSpice#1734. Her profile picture was a pink teddy bear. Guess who~ - Pink bear? Hm, unless one of his sisters had secretly made a Discord account (”Not until you’re older”, as per Mum and Dad’s rules), theeeeen this had to be Audrey. Looking at the username, that definitely confirmed it. Friend request accepted~ Guess who, eh? Hmmm….the Queen of England? 🤣 - Feeling a bit bold, Audrey initiated an audio call with him, planning to greet him with, “How’d you know?” followed by giggles. - …Well, she did say that she wanted to try out audio calls, so why not? Picking up, he answered with a comically dramatic gasp. “Your majesty~! I am not worthy!” - Audrey giggled more. “I’d have followed up by pretending to be a queen, but, I don’t know how one acts and I can’t do an English accent to save my life,” she laughed. “Anyway, how are you doing? Can you hear me alright?” - “Incredibly proper, supposedly.” he chuckled. “Doin’ alright! Can hear you juuust fine. How about on your end? Hearing me and how things are going, I mean.” - “Same here! Glad I caught ya at a good time… I did catch you at a good time, right? It should be evening over there. Oh, I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything…” - “Haha, naaah, you’re fine! Been with the family for most of the day, so I’ve secluded myself in my room for a bit of ‘me’ time. It’s all good.” - “So I guess your me time is us time now,” she chuckled. “You live with your parents still or are you just visiting? It’s fine either way!” she added in a hurry. “The only reason I have my own place is because of Spike. He’s a workout friend of mine who works in construction and knows a few people in real estate.” - “Guess so; not that I’m complaining.” he responded. “ I spend most of my time here during the summer holiday…and, well, regular holidays.. During school, I live a bit closer to the campus. Soooo…I guess you could say both? Once I get my degree, I’m moving into my own. Haven’t settled on a location yet, really. Depends on if I want to be adventurous or not.” - “Ahhh. I see,” she nodded to herself. “What are some locations you’re thinking of moving to? Just curious.” - “Back to France is always an option…but knowing my family, either they’d be coming here at least once every couple of weeks or vice versa. Aaaaand that back and forth travel can be kind of pricey. I could always head up to and stay in Blackpool- where my university is. Or just take a total leap of faith and try somewhere else. The few times we’ve been over to the U.S. have been kind of nice- maybe I could live there. Might consider multiple citizenship, who knows. Eleven months there, one month here…” - “That does sound pricey… Though I’m sure you know that, if you’re considering the United States, I have to recommend Michigan. I’m biased, yes, but I have at least visited other states, so I’m not blindly swearing allegiance or anything. Fun fact, Michigan is one of the leading fruit growers in the States~ Cherries, especially,” she chirped. - J.C. laughed, “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea; being surrounded by fruit. I also wouldn’t mind living somewhere that gets actual snow in the winter. I mean, sometimes we’ll spend the holidays up in Northern Scotland, but not having to travel to see and play in the snow would be nice.” - “Oh, snow is definitely something we get up here,” she laughed. “Multiple feet of it, in fact. You should see Daisy during the winter; it’s hilarious! You just toss her outside and fwump; she disappears into the snow!“ - “Pffff! You might just have to tie a balloon to her collar or something and just track her that way. Or do you think she would float away?” - “Ha! Enough balloons probably would make her fly away! She’s so tiny! Truthfully, we just look for where the snow is moving. It also helps that she wears little sweaters when it’s cold out. Mom’s tried putting booties on her, but she just kicks them off.” - “Awwwhawhawhaw~ I’d hope she’d have at least a little something to wear. If I’m not mistaken, Michigan and a lot of those northern states can get pretty cold…like ‘stuck inside for days’ or ‘wearing five layers of clothing just to get the shopping done’ cold.” He thought for a minute. “Of…course, that’s all from word of mouth as opposed to personal experience, but…” - “I can confirm that it can get that cold. Ever see A Christmas Story where the little brother has so many layers of clothing he can’t put his arms down? It’s kind of like that.” - J.C. laughed, picturing the scene. “Oh, mon dieu. If we’re ever visiting during that time of the year, remind me to keep Syd away from metal poles!” - “Oh goodness… Yeah, that’s really a thing that happens here. Why do so many people think that’s a myth? Have they never gotten their tongue stuck to a popsicle before?” - “Apparently not. But hey, doing stupid stuff’s a part of life,I suppose. Maybe gain some status or fame in your friend group or among your class/workmates.” Sounded as if he was speaking from experience. - “Why do you sound like you’re speaking from experience?” she teased. - There was a brief moment of silence. “…Beeeee….caaaaaause I mmmmmmaaaaaay have done a few things that…could be qualified as such.” he responded, chuckling sheepishly. “N-nothing major, though.” - “Ooooooo~” she said, trying to sound like a studio audience. “What’d you do?” - The sheepish laughter intensified. “Aaaah…hm. You know those really, really hot peppers that are on the market? Short and skinny of it is ‘Guys Night In’ and a game of ‘Truth or Dare’. It wasn’t a…Reaper? I think that’s what one of those are called? Only reason I know that is because I probably would’ve ended up in hospital, haha. I think it was aaaa….habenaro? One was, the other’s called ‘Naga Jolokia’. Ate the habenaro with little issue, didn’t even get a full two bites into the other one before I was gulping down water like no tomorrow.” - “Oh noooo,” she laughed. “Oh nooo-ho-ho! That’s- That’s a ghost pepper, isn’t it?! Ah-ha-ha-ha!” She broke into a laughing fit. - His laughter became less sheepish and a bit more joyful. “Eeeeeeeyup, it is. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but hey. I will say, it did go better than when we played that one game with the Jelly Beans. …What’s it called? ‘Bean-Boozled’?” - “Yeah, it’s Bean-Boozled. Basically Bertie-Bott’s Every Flavor Beans but Jelly Belly brand. Dare I ask what could have happened when playing Bean-Boozled?” - “Weeeeell, plus side, I wasn’t the one who ended up with their face in a wastebasket.” he snickered. “The last few times we’d played, I kept getting the really gross flavours, and there was this joke that I was cursed. With our most recent game, the ‘curse’, I suppose, had reversed and the person who got all the good flavours last time got all the bad ones. He was fine up until…ugh, dead fish.” - “Ew-hew-hew!” she laughed. “Though, technically, all fish we eat is dead. It’d be pretty messy if we ate them alive… and gross… Say, that reminds me, you like scary movies, right? I have a question about zombies.” - “I doooooo. What’s your question?” - “How fast does a zombie need to eat before its victim becomes a zombie too and they don’t want to eat it? Like, zombies don’t eat other zombies, right? If you’re killed by a zombie, you become a zombie, right? How does that work?” - J.C. blinked, initially unsure how to answer. “That’s….actually a really good question. I like to think that it depends on the initial method of zombification. If it’s done via a curse, you’ve got a bit more time, whereas if it’s because of a virus, that time shortens, since you’ve got all this zombie saliva coming into contact with your blood. Blood takes about one minute to circulate through your entire body, so…you’d probably have to go all ‘pie-eating contest’ speed if your zombification is viral.” He stopped and thought for a minute. “Granted, you get bit regardless of the initial turning mechanism and still come into contact with their saliva…maybe one method is more virulent and fast-acting than the other? Kind of like how it can take something like food poisoning to show up in as little as half an hour to as long as four weeks, depending on what’s responsible for causing it.” - There was a long pause before Audrey replied with, “Huh… I don’t know what to do with this information… I’d write a story or something, but I don’t have the creativity for that. Hm… Maybe I should mention this to Adelyn… She’s good with this sort of thing.” - “Nor am I.” he chuckled, “Ah, Adelyn, eh? Friend of yours or a relative?” - “Relative,” she informed. “She’s my youngest cousin. She’s on the autism spectrum and is, like, really smart and creative.” - “Ah! Maybe she can tell me if the logic on my answer to your question seems sound.” All of a sudden, he heard a small sneeze outside the door, along with a small ‘THUD!’ and a young-sounding ‘Dangit!”. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Hold on just a sec…” Getting up and walking towards his door, J.C. spoke to who he suspected was on the other side. “I know that’s you, petit singe. Are you eavesdropping?” “Noooooooo…a person can’t just chill against the wall in their own home?” “The wall that has their brother’s room on the other side?” “…All the other walls were taken?” - Though the voice was a bit faint, Audrey figured the little eavesdropper was Syd. “Tell her I said hi,” she called loudly, hoping J.C. could hear her from however far away from the computer he was. - “Can do!” he called back, before turning his voice back towards Syd. “Audrey says ‘hi’, by the way.” Syd gasped, “You’re talkin’ to her?!” She took a deep breath and shouted: “HI AAAAAAAUUUUDREEEEEEEY!!!” J.C., having been up against the door cringed and rubbed his ear a bit. Probably should have seen that coming… - “Oh wow, she’s got a set of lungs on her, huh?” she laughed. - “Tell me about it.” the older brother groaned slightly. “ ‘Kay! Soooo I’m gonna let yooooou twooooo get back to your conversation! Maybe we can do a chat later on; I don’t want to interrupt you two lovebirds~” the ten year old responded, laughing as she skipped away. Once she was gone, J.C. sat back down on his bed, rubbing his temple a bit. “Eheh…sorry about that. Siblings…” - “Never a dull moment, huh?” she chuckled. - “Never.” he laughed. - “Sooo… What were we talking about? … Oh, right; zombies. That reminds me; I punched a zombie once… Well, someone in a zombie costume… Did I tell you about that?” - “Pffffff! I don’t think you have…how’d that come about, anyway?” - “There was this haunted house a few years back. It was pretty intense, so children were required to have an adult with them. Well, these kids really wanted to go and every other adult they asked were either busy or flat out said no… So I wound up being that adult… Well, the haunted house did its job. I was on edge the whole time and, when one of the actors put his hand on my shoulder, I whirled around and punched out of reflex. I felt so bad! I kept apologizing and I even gave him a twenty dollar bill! I know they aren’t paid to be hit, but I had to do something!” - J.C. wheezed before collapsing into a fit of giggles. “Oooooh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho my lord! That’s aw-haw-haw-haw-haw-haw-ful! Hilarious, as well, but still! But hey, at least you apologized.” - “The kids thought it was funny too,” she chuckled a bit. “Shame I got us kicked out.” - “Aw, that bites,” the giggles started dying down a bit. “If it’s any consolation, I can be the designated adult if you and I are ever dragged to a place like that. I may let out a high pitch screech if I’m spooked, but I don’t think I’ll karate chop someone. At least, I haven’t yet…” - Audrey chuckled. “I’d appreciate that. I’m afraid my fight or flight response is just a fight response. Not a good scaring subject.” - J.C. snickered, “On the plus side, you at least know that. Better than running into a situation blindly and all confident, then end up running away.” - “As opposed to walking in scared and beating someone up? Not sure if I agree with that… If the person is innocent, anyway… I do wonder how I’d do, should I face a genuine threat… A non human threat, I mean. I know I can take humans.” - “Oh yeah, no; punching innocent people’s never a good idea. I’d imagine if you can pack that much of an unintentional punch on someone, intentionally punching can provide quite a…pack.” He chuckled sheepishly, “I was going somewhere with that. Sounded better in my head.” - Audrey snickered. “I think I get what you’re trying to say. I do imagine I’d do more damage from an intentional hit than I would a startled reflex.” - “D-D-D-D-D-Double comboooooo!” J.C. joked, mimicking a videogame announcer, “Nice hit!” - She laughed at that, having supervised enough sleepovers to recognize a video game reference when she heard one. “Which fighting game is that?” - “Aha, I’m not entirely sure if it is one? I was trying to go something ‘Mortal Kombat’ or ‘Punch-Out!!’-esque, but other than that…” - “Mortal Kombat’s the one with the ‘Finish him!’ line and the catchy theme song, right?” - “Indeed it is. I know there are a few newer versions out, but I prefer the older, less…aaah, gory ones.” - “You mean to tell me they get even gorier?! I saw some as a teenager and they were pretty dang gory.” - “I meeean….maybe more so in the way of being more realistic with the blood and guts and everything, but if you would qualify that as ‘gorier’, then yes.” - “Ahhh, I get it. I suppose that is gorier. It doesn’t matter how much red you add to a stick figure, I’m not really going to be affected by it.” - “To each their own. I suppose.” - “Hm? What do you mean? I thought we were agreeing,” she asked, confused. - “O-oh! I’m pretty sure we still are? I-I meant that in a…different context than what the original meaning of the phrase is? You’d said something about adding as much red as you can to a stick figure and it won’t affect you. I, ah, imagine it can be different for some? That…something like that would? “ J.C. chuckled sheepishly. “I was going somewhere with that, guess my train of thought got derailed…” - “…I think I was in the train when it got derailed because I have no idea where we are,” she laughed. - J.C. snickered before breaking into a short, impromptu song, “We’re goin’ off the rails with our trains of thooooooought…~!” - Audrey’s laughter increased with the song. “Oh my gosh! You are so silly!” - Her laughter had him laughing as well…aaaaand perhaps blushing just a bit. Good to see his dorkiness came in handy outside of cheering up a grumpy sibling or a bummed out friend. “I try, my dear, I try. Just how I am, I guess!” - She giggled softly at being called ‘dear,’ finding it both silly and charming. “Well, you succeed!” she chuckled. “What were we talking about? Fighting games? Something about fighting?” - “Something like that, yeah…come to think of it, how did we even get on that topic, anyway? What were we even talking about before that?” - “I have no idea. I don’t even really play video games. See, this is why I write things down; can’t remember a thing otherwise… Well, aside from the fact that Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin. That’s about all that stuck with me from school.” - “I wouldn’t call myself a gamer, really. Kind of in the ‘I know just enough to keep myself from getting my butt completely kicked whenever one of the munchkins wants me to do a Pokemon battle with them’ camp. Maybe the occasional party game like those dancing ones, but otherwise…” J.C. chuckled, “What about ‘Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally’ for maths, or ‘Columbus sailed the ocean blue in 1492?’. Granted, that’s probably going back a looooong time, but hey.” - “I can play a bit of those Mario Party games, but that’s about it. I mostly button mash everything else. It’s amazing how often I win doing that…” she trailed off. “I know those too! It’s just the cotton gin thing stuck with me, for some reason. When will I ever need that information? Elementary school Jeopardy?” - “Haha, Iiiii’d imagine so. I remember when I was still in primary school, we had this ‘Bring-Your-Parent-To-School Day’ thing, and we did have something like that at one point. Kids vs. the parents. Sort of like…what’s the name of that one show? ‘Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader?’. Pretty sure that show wasn’t around when I was that young, so your description’s probably more accurate.” - “I suppose you have a point there. I guess I can use it in a competition with my future kids,” she laughed. “Assuming I one day marry and have them or adopt them or what have you.” - “Same, honestly. I like to think I’ve gotten enough practice with ‘Thing 1′ and ‘Thing 2′, and having a kid of my own would be nice. It’s….different from having siblings, you actually have something that you had a hand in creating, and it’s like a little you.” He paused. “I mean…they’re obviously they’re own person, but half of their DNA is yours.” Cue a small sigh, “I dunno, having a tiny person thinking you’re the coolest thing ever for a time is a nice feeling. Kind of want to experience it on a different level than ‘older sibling-younger sibling’.” Cue another pause, then a somewhat sheepish chuckle, “That…aaaah, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you at once. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope that made at least some sense.” - Audrey giggled, pleased with his ramble. She liked the way this man thought. “Oh, no worries. I like listening to people talk about things that make them happy, especially when it’s about kids. And I know what you mean. I can’t help but wonder what a biological child of mine might look like. What traits of mine might they inherit? That sort of thing.” - “Basically a game of ‘roll the genetic dice and see what happens’, I guess. Sometimes it can be a little scary if you’ve got some potentially harmful stuff in your history, but otherwise it’s kind of cool.” A thought occurred to J.C., evidenced by the sudden change in expression on his face. “…I wonder if anyone’s ever had a child that’s exactly half of one parent and half of the other. Like one side of their head has curly hair and the other side is straight? I guess that could happen with multiples, but I don’t know about a singular child…” - “I don’t think that’s possible,” she scratched her head as she thought. “I know eyes can be two different colors, but I don’t think you can have two types of hair on the same head… Not naturally, anyway. I mean, my hair is kind of in-between Mom’s waves and Dad’s curls… Probably closer to Dad in that respect. Can’t style it very well… It’s not both though.” - “Mm.” He nodded as he listened to Audrey’s thought process. “Guess it all depends on what exactly the DNA wants to do when, for lack of a better term, building someone from scratch happens. ‘You get your mom’s eyes, your dad’s hair, the dimples of some relative a few generations back…’. Genetics are weird.” - “Tell me about it. Dad has no freckles, Mom has a few, I have a ton. Apparently, there’s some hidden super freckle gene somewhere in my family.” - J.C. chuckled, “Guess so. I don’t know a whole lot about what ran in mine, other than brown hair from my mother and…” he paused, “I know there was something on my father’s side, though what it is is escaping me at the moment…” - Audrey figured he must be having difficulty remembering as it’s been so long since his biological family was alive. Deciding it better to change the subject before he delves too deep into such a topic, Audrey thought up a distraction. “Do you remember that thing in school where you draw a square consisting of four smaller squares to figure out possible gene combinations or whatever? I forget what it’s called…” - J.C. thought for a minute; that sounded really familiar… “The thing where you put, like…uppercase ‘B’ for brown eyes and lowercase ‘b’ for blue eyes? I believe it’s a Punnett Square?” - “Yeah! That’s it! You’d think figuring out the odds of certain traits would be more complicated than drawing a few squares, but, there it is.” - He chuckled, “I know, right? Apparently, you can use them in…I believe it’s algebra, as well, but it’s a little more complicated there. ‘Square this number, multiply these two’…” - “Oh, gosh; not algebra!” she yelped in faux terror before chuckling. The two went on talking for a good while after that, but ultimately had to end the call. Finding such a thing quite enjoyable, Audrey made sure to call J.C. again… and again… and again. They’d even gotten to the point where they did video calls. It practically became a routine, but there were still interesting moments to be had. “Check it out! I got a wireless headphone microphone thingy!” Audrey chirped excitedly, waving her hand around her head to show there were no wires. “Now I can still talk to you, even if I step away from the computer a little!” - J.C. let out a playful, dramatic gasp at the reveal. “Ah, fantastique! You’re not confined to having to be close to the computer like I am.” he joked, pulling at his headphone cord a bit, “I have one of those microphones that are built into the computer, but I’m definitely planning on upgrading to a more ‘external’ one soon…seven to ten business days to be exact, should the delivery go without a hitch. Merci, online shopping~” - “Tell me about it! Present shopping has never been so convenient~ Also,” Audrey clapped, summoning Lola to jump onto the couch with her. “No more nearly knocking down the computer whenever Lola wants attention!” - J.C. chuckled at the little pup, “Ah, bonjour, Lola!” “Did you say Lola!?” came a voice from outside his door. “Can I see ‘er? Please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaase?” The older brother playfully rolled his eyes, “Oh lord, sounds like I said the magic word. You don’t mind Kat popping in for a bit, do you?” - Audrey chuckled and shook her head. “Not at all~ Let me just turn the speakers on so Lola can hear her. You like the attention, don’t you, girl~?” she cooed as she pet her head. - J.C. gave the two a small smile before turning towards his door. “Entrez!” With a small creak, in came Kat, bounding towards her brother’s bed. Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about as much damage being done once she flopped onto it, as Kat was a good deal smaller than Syd. No real worries about his laptop flying off of the bed and onto the floor or the screen getting kicked in. Once she was on the bed, Kat crawled towards the webcam and made herself comfortable, smiling widely and cooing at the dog. “Hiiiiya, Lola! Hiya, Audrey!” - “Hiya, Kat!” Audrey returned the greeting as Lola stood up and wagged her tail at the excited voice. “Who’s that?” she asked playfully, getting a bark from her dog. “Yes! It’s Kat! Such a good girl~” she gave Lola a generous petting - The eight year old giggled at the dog’s response. “Kinda bites that you guys are so far away, an’ that I can’t reach through the screen an’ give her some pets…but seeing you two’s okay enough! How’ve you been?” - “I’m giving her plenty of pets for you,” she giggled, petting the dog. “Work’s been a little overwhelming here and there, but Lola and your brother have been doing a good job of helping me wind down. What about you? School treating you okay?” - “Uh-huh!”, the little girl nodded, “Right now we’re doing our sevens times tables in maths and we’re reading Sideways Stories from Wayside School. We’re supposed to be starting this really cool science experiment next week, but I dunno what exactly it is, ‘cos our teacher’s keeping it a secret.” “Maybe you’re doing the ‘butterfly life cycle observation’ thing.” J.C. commented, “I remember doing that a few times in primary school.” - “Oooo, that sounds fun~ Glad that you’re enjoying yourself. School takes up a lot of time, so, best enjoy it, if you can. Maybe you can give Syd some pointers on that.” Syd struck her as someone who didn’t enjoy school much. - “I meeeean, I dunno what exactly it is they do in Year 6, but I can try? She likes when they do more ‘science-y’ stuff and reading more action-packed stories, than having to learn history or maths….buuuut I can try!” J.C. smirked at his sister’s confidence. “Well, you know the saying: ‘Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it’.” - “Well… there’s a lot of action in history?” she shrugged. “Though that’s rarely a good thing in real life… And you need to know math in order to properly do science. Lots of equations and all that.” - “Yeeeeah, true. But I guess you gotta explain stuff in a way that’ll make it sound interesting with ‘er. Not totally sure how you could make maths interesting.” The older brother snickered, “Maybe if the question’s something like…’If there are 96 pieces of chewing gum in a candy machine and there are 8 friends, how many pieces does each friend get?’. Something that she can kind of relate to. Or at the very least, reword the question, but keep the same numbers.” - “I’d imagine she’d say something along the lines of, ‘Depends on who has to figure it out. They’ll get more than the rest.’ Gotta be careful with how you word these things,” she wagged a finger. - J.C. laughed, “She would. Or ‘Why would they be sharing, that’s 96 whole pieces of gum right there!’.” “I do know she likes when her class gets to do creative assignments, too.” Kat piped up, “Like when they have a spelling list, but get to write a story that uses the words in it. Or when they make a scene from something or a model in a shoe box.” “…A diorama?” “Yeah, that! She tends to make a big mess when she’s making it, but the end product’s pretty good…and she has fun doin’ it too.” - “That’s good! See, you’ve gotta focus on the good with these things. Focus on the bad and you’ll make yourself miserable. I mean, there are difficult aspects to my job, but I try to focus on the fact I’m helping people get healthy and/or stay healthy. Just remind her something good will come soon enough, you know?” - Kat gave Audrey a salute, “Can do!” “It takes a bit of patience, too.” J.C. added, “I know she wants to do some of the experiments that I did in secondary school and uni, but…well, you need to learn to crawl before you can walk, and know how to walk before you can run.” “It’s hard, though, when you’re little.” Kat piped up. “Trust me, I know. And I’m pretty sure Audrey knows too; we were both your age once.” - “Exactly,” Audrey nodded. “I used to get frustrated with what I wasn’t allowed to do, but, looking back, I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t go baking a cake without learning to crack an egg first.” - “…Ssssoooo she can’t exactly go sledding down the stairs without knowing how to steer the sled first?” J.C. snickered, “I mean, in theory, yeah, but you shouldn’t be doing that anyway because you could get seriously hurt. And that’s regardless of how many pillows you’ve tied to yourself, how many you’ve put at the bottom of the stairs, and with wearing knee and elbow pads and a helmet.” - “Even if you somehow managed not to get hurt, I can’t imagine it would be much fun. I mean, it’d probably be a really bumpy ride. I’d much rather sled in the snow.” - “But then we’d have to go waaaaaaay up north if we wanted snow. It almost never comes this far south.” Kat pouted. “If you want some deep snow, yes, but I think if we a tad bit as opposed to- as you put it- ‘waaaaaaaay’, it’d be fine. Maybe even go a bit west, as well.” J.C. looked to Audrey, “How much snow would you say you get over by you?” - “How much snow?” Audrey proceeded to cackle for a good long time before holding up a finger, asking for a moment to compose herself. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat. “We just get so much snow! I mean it. A lot. A little snow for us would be two feet deep. There’s a reason we have snowplows over here.” - Kat gasped excitedly. “We gotta go to Michigan for sledding!!” J.C. sputtered, laughing a little, “So you’d be willing to take a half-a-day flight just to go sledding? Not one that’d be maybe an hour, hour and a half at most?” “Yeah! ‘Sides, you’d be able to go an’ see Audrey! Us too, obviously, but still!” - “Oh, come now, it wouldn’t just be sledding… There’s making snowmen too,” she giggled. “Not to mention the feeling of coming inside from the cold and warming up with some hot chocolate.” - “And snow angels and snowball fights!” the little girl bounced excitedly. - Audrey chuckled. “Now, now, don’t get too excited. We don’t even know if this winter visit will happen.” - “Can it, thooooough?” Kat asked, giving the two the “puppy dog pout/puppy dog eyes” combo. As much as the older brother would love that, doing so was dependent on a lot of factors. “Iiiiiit’s a bit too early to say yes or no, sooooo…I guess we can chalk it up as a ‘we’ll see’?” - “It’s not up to me, kiddo,” she gave the child a shrug. “I’d certainly welcome you, but I can’t exactly fly you over here.” - “Awww…” “Hey, it’s not a ‘no’.” J.C. pointed out, trying to make the situation a bit more positive. - “There’s still plenty of time to figure it out,” Audrey offered. “I mean, school only started a few weeks ago over here. It’s still pretty warm out.” - “Yeah. You’re telling me you want to skip out on your birthday and Halloween and just go straight to winter?” J.C joked. Kat let out a small gasp and shook her head ‘no’. “Theeeeeeeeen you have to wait, kiddo.” - Audrey chuckled. "I’m looking forward to pumpkin spice season, myself.” - “I love fall.” J.C. sighed, thoroughly content. “Part of it being the pumpkin spice, part of it the cooler weather…” “Part of it being that you can toss me into leaf piles.” Kat added, grinning. The brother snorted, “That’s something that you love, goofball…buuuuut I do get a good laugh out of it. Next time we get a deep enough pile, you’re getting launched.” Kat responded with her arms joyously shooting upwards, and a happy “Yay!” - Audrey let out a small giggled, one of joy more than humor. She really liked seeing this man get along so well with children. This man was destined to be a father, she thought to herself as she smiled dreamily. - “Maybe if you and Syd team up, you can launch me.” he joked. Kat scoffed before laughing, “Yeeeeah, maybe not? Now, Audrey probably could! Either with us or by herself!” - The laughter snapped her out of her dreamy state and she laughed too. “I can’t guarantee a soft landing if I do.” - “He’s had worse!” Kat snickered, imagine Audrey doing just as she stated. J.C. smiled and rolled his eyes at the blonde and ruffled her hair a bit, “Alright, alriiiight…hey, did you finish your homework yet?” Kat shook her head no. “I was takin’ a break. Guess I should get back to it?” J.C. nodded, “Then when you’re done, we’ll go over it….maybe practice some of your multiplication flash cards?” “ ‘Kay….but you promised we would have a tea party after that and dinner, remember?” “Of course I do. You, me, and Mr. Bunnysworth are going over the details of the deed to your dollhouse.” The way he said it sounded so matter-of-fact. Kat giggled at her goofball brother before turning to Audrey and Lola, “Sounds like I gotta get goin’. I’ll talk you guys later!” - Audrey giggled again. These two were adorable! “Talk to you later,” she smiled and waved goodbye. Once Kat was gone, Audrey turned the sound back to her headphones. “Tea party, huh? Since you’re in England, do you have actual tea at those?” - J.C. smiled and blew a bit of air out of his nose, “Occasionally, yeah. Kind of a toss up between that or some juice. In the winter, she’ll use hot cocoa.” - Audrey chuckled. “That’s basically what we do over here. That or we just sip on air. It’s usually air, unless we’re using real cups. Those play tea cups are so tiny.” - “I know, right? You have to take teeeeeeny tiny sips if you want it to last the whole party. Like a little mouse or something.” - “Imagine if you were trying to actually hydrate with one of those,” she snickered. - “Oh jeez. If you drink out of them like a normal human being, it’s almost like doing shots.” He paused for a second. “…Oooor at least, how I imagine one would do them. Never done them myself. The occasional glass of wine on special occasions or on vacation, but otherwise…” - Audrey snorted. “I just imagined someone doing shots of tea, but instead of getting drunk, they just get more and more English!” - “Ha! I could start out sounding like this.…” He mimicked downing a few cups of tea before speaking again in a “fancier” accent: “…to something like this. And as the day goes on, it just….waters itself down.” - Audrey couldn’t help but cackle at the demonstration. Once she calmed down, she glanced at the clock and spoke again. “Oh goodness; is that the time? I need to let Lola out before she messes on the floor. Be right back!” She darted off camera to let Lola outside. While outside, her headphones were out of range of her computer, so neither of them could hear each other. With the silence, Audrey managed to forget she was wearing the headphones at all. Making her way back inside (and back in range of her computer), she sang softly to herself as she went about getting Lola a treat. - “Can’t be having that now! You two go do your thing, I’ll be over here.” As the two went off, J.C. took the time to readjust a few things with his computer, answer an e-mail, comment on a friend’s photo. His ears perked up a bit when he picked up the sound of Audrey’s voice again. Was she…? She was. He’d heard her sing once already (he had joined in, after all~), but regardless of that, she sounded lovely. Cue a bit of pink coloring his cheeks. - As she made her way back to the computer, she stopped singing and went about taking the headphones from around her neck and putting them back over her ears. “Sorry about that,” she sat back down with a smile, oblivious to the fact he’d heard her. - “Huh? Oh! Oh, it’s no big deal.” He chuckled sheepishly, “When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.” Cue the blush getting a bit more noticeable. Seemed to be that she was unaware that he could hear her… - Audrey raised her brow at this and cocked her head slightly to the side. “You feeling alright?” - Ah, crud, he’d been caught. “You, ah….” he gestured to where her headset had been. “You had forgotten to take your headset off, and I caught a bit of you singing when you came back in. N-not that that’s a bad thing! I thought i-i-i-i-it sounded lovely…” - “Oh? Oh!” she brought her fingertips to her mouth for a moment, then brought them back down with an embarrassed smile. “Ah-ha… Oops… Thank you?” - “Eheh…heh…aaaah, no problem…” Well, this was awkward. - “What were we talking about?” she twirled some hair around her fingers as she tried to distract from what had just happened. - “Tea parties and fancy accents, I believe?” J.C. answered, going back to said “fancy” accent as a joke. - Audrey tittered and the two went back to talking. As time went by, the leaves turned color, the temperature got colder, and their online chats became more frequent. “Since Halloween is right around the corner, I have an idea I want to toss out there, if you’re interested.” - J.C., currently in a rather “spooky” sweater, looked up from his hot cocoa, curious. “Shoot. What’cha got rattlin’ around in that brain of yours?” - “You know how I don’t watch horror movies because I don’t want to hurt someone on accident or watch it alone? Well, I can’t really hurt anyone if they aren’t physically in the room with me,” she grinned a bit slyly. “Could be something a bit different, you know?” - “Oooo-hoo-hoo, I like~ So! How should we start out with this? Something super tame like….well, I mean Hotel Transylvania isn’t a horror movie, but it has monsters in it…or do we go for the big guns like The Grudge?” - “I was thinking an actual horror movie. My cousin Chloe got me a nice mountain of horror movie files to choose from. She may have been a bit over zealous though,” she chuckled. “I doubt I’ll ever watch them all. Anyway, I can send the files your way and we can watch it on that Let’s Gaze website we tested out before.” - J.C. laughed as well, “Fine by me! Anything in said mountain that’s catching your eye? I’m not super picky with what we watch.” - “Chloe did mention that some of them can have a bit of humor or ridiculousness to them. What were some of them? Child’s Play… Scream… The Cabin in the Woods… Any of those sound good?” - Taking a sip of his drink as Audrey listed off a few titles, he perked up at the last one. “Oooo, Cabin in the Woods, let’s go with that.” - “I take it you like that one?” she smiled as she went about sending him a link to download the file. - “It’s actually one I haven’t seen,” he clarified, “Child’s Play and Scream, I have seen, albeit a few years ago. Figured I’d start with something ‘new’ before going towards more familiar, y’know?” - “Sounds good. When do you think you’ll have time to sit and watch a whole movie with me?” - “Mmmmm, probably sometime a little later this week? Have a few ‘autumnal’ things that are going on with the family, so I might not be able to find some free time before then. I can keep you posted, though!” - “Is it apple picking?” Audrey asked enthusiastically. “Or throwing your sisters into leaf piles? Pumpkin picking?” - “All 3~” he smiled, “Maybe some preliminary costume searching as well.” - “Ooooooo~ Sounds like you’ve got some busy days ahead of you! My mom, dad, aunts, uncles, and cousins are all going apple picking with me next week! We’re all gonna get some fresh air, pick some apples, make some apple treats… that sort of thing~” - “Ooo, sounds fun! Maybe I can suggest that to Mum and Dad; apple-flavoured stuff- rather, stuff made from apples- sounds really good right now. Plus, it can give Syd a chance to put some of her energy towards climbing some trees.” - “I can send you some recipes, if you need any,” she offered. - “Ooo, that’d be lovely, actually. Spice things up a bit in terms of autumnal snacks, you know?” - Audrey’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the concept of sharing recipes. “Oh! Oh! I have lots of recipes! What do you think you might want; pies, crisps, cobblers, muffins, cakes, cider, applesauce, fritters, breads?!” - Dang, she really DID have a lot of recipes! And they all sounded really nummy~ “Man, you weren’t kidding!” he laughed, “Hm, where do I even start? Maybe we can start with fritters and muffins and go from there.” - “Good choice~ I’ll be sure to send those your way.” She reached for her notebook off camera and jotted down a reminder. “Maybe I could add a nice apple drink recipe in there. Gotta wash those treats down with something~” - “Oo, even better. Kind of like a little bonus treat.“ - Audrey giggled at that. “A treat for your treats~” - J.C. let out a giggle as well…with an unintentional snort. Upon realizing that he had done so, his face went a bit pink. He was still smiling, though, so that was a good sign. - She didn’t comment on the snort. She didn’t want to embarrass him, especially when she did the same thing. “It’s a shame you live so far away. It’d be fun to bake together, I bet!” - He stopped for a second, a thought occurring to him. If they could talk to each other while being in two different parts of the world, what was to stop them from baking? “Unless…we do the baking, but like how we’re doing now. Find some sort of set up to where we can place our computers or phones or whatever out of the ingredient ‘splash zone’, and check on each other’s progress along the way. Baking together, but not physically together, if that makes any sense.” - “We should totally do that,” she exclaimed. “I wonder what we should make. I’d suggest an apple dish, but I don’t go apple picking until next week. Heh. Maybe we should try something simple, just to test it out?” She put a finger to her mouth in thought. “Perhaps a no-bake pumpkin pie? Still autumn themed. Do you guys have boxes of instant pudding over in England? Maybe we should make something with more common ingredients. Hmm… Oh! Pumpkin bread!” - “Oh definitely; do a test run, see how that goes, and then go from there!” J.C. agreed. “Do we have instant pu…I actually might have to check the next time I go out for groceries. Pumpkin bread might be a better option to start with, at least. I know for a fact that we have the stuff to make it here.” - “I’ll have to Google this sort of thing later,” she mused aloud. “I know you guys don’t have graham crackers over there. I’m guessing you’d use shortbread crust for pies in place of graham cracker ones…” - “Usually, yeah, or we use digestive biscuits in place of them. They may have them in the ‘’American’‘ section of a grocery store, but it depends on the store.” - Audrey nodded. “It really is wild how similar, yet different, our foods can be. I’ll try to look through my recipes for ones that are more basic. Here in the states, we tend to use shortcuts that you may not have; like instant pudding.” - “Right? And it can mean something completely different too. The kind that you’re talking about is usually called ‘custard’. If you look up ‘Yorkshire pudding’, that’s usually what we mean. Haggis is technically considered one. …English is weird.” - “Haggis?!” she asked with a weird face. “You’re right. English is weird.” She scrunched her nose. “I’m not going to lie here; if I asked for chocolate pudding and got haggis, I would be very disappointed.” - J.C. laughed, “Same, honestly. I mean, the food itself actually isn’t all that bad; it’s just the way it’s made that makes it sound gross…and…maybe some of what’s in it. To each their own, I suppose.” He shrugged, “I’ve only had it a few times that I can remember; usually when we’ve gone to visit one of my aunts up in Scotland.” - “I’ve never had it myself, but I know it doesn’t taste like chocolate pudding. Hence why I would be disappointed. I’m generally down to try anything at least once.” She thought a moment. “Scotland, huh? Is it as pretty as the pictures?” - “Always a plus.” he smiled. “I’d say so, yeah. One of my favourite places that we sometimes stop over in is Edinburgh, it’s kind of got a fairy tale-esque feel to it. Where my aunt lives is a bit further south, over in Dumfries; more of a riverside kind of town. If you go north enough in the winter, you’re able to see the northern lights, apparently. Haven’t had a chance to myself, unfortunately. I mean, we’ve been pretty far north there that time of year, but never at a point where we can catch ‘em.” - “Oh, that sounds lovely,” she smiled. “Maybe you could ask your relatives to send you pictures, since you haven’t been able to catch them yourself. Oh! Another name for the northern lights is the aurora borealis, right? Sounds all scientific that way,” she chuckled. - He laughed, “Indeed it does. …Y’know, that actually sounds like a good idea. Knowing my luck, if you and I got together just for that, there’d be a wicked snowstorm that moves in on the night we’d be seeing them.” Of course, the alternative of being all snuggled up indoors by a fireplace with some hot cocoa with her wasn’t bad. - She cocked her head slightly, a bit curious, but kept her smile all the same. How exactly did he feel about her if one of his first thoughts about the northern lights would be seeing them with her? “Well, I’m sure we’d find other things to do. Maybe hot cocoa and a crackling fire? I love those~” Seemed she had a similar mindset. - “Maybe in some comfy pyjamas, under one of those weighted blankets.” he added, goofy grin starting to sprawl across his face“…Ooooor a lightweight but super fluffy one. Either or.” - “Oooo~ Both are good! Might depend on how warm the fire makes everything.” She chuckled. “Here we go; talking about a fictional snowstorm. Our conversations sure are something, aren’t they? I was supposed to remember something…” Audrey opened her notebook. “Oh, yeah! I’m supposed to get you some recipes and find one we can both cook together!” Looking off screen, she spotted Lola. “Looks like Lola wants O-U-T and I need to look for some recipes, so I’ll talk to you later, okay?” - “Right, right! That should be fun; here’s hoping that when we do do that, the internet says running smoothly the entire time. Nothing worse that trying to get an exact amount of something from someone, and the connection starts to glitch.” At the mention of Lola, J.C. blew a bit of air out of his nose, smiling. “Haha, silly pup. You go on ahead; I’ll catch up with you later!” -End-

#Pen Pals #roleplay #compiled roleplay #redradandrod

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possiblyimbiassed · 7 years ago

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Sherlock and the media – ‘the full story’?

I’ve been thinking of writing this meta for a long time, but maybe now is as good a moment as ever? For the umpteenth time in the history of this show, a large part of the audience seems to pay more attention to what’s said in the media about it, than what’s said in the actual show. This show is screaming to us ‘don’t believe everything you hear from the media – it’s fairy tales!’ The show runners have told us repeatedly to not believe everything they say about the show, because they’re ‘lying liars who lie’. And yet… Same thing as always.

So let’s pay attention to the actual show instead. What is it with the media cover of Sherlock and John in this show – what role does it play? An essential role; in fact, I believe it’s one of the most important topics in BBC Sherlock. I’ll go through it episode for episode, so please bear with me.

Ariane De Vere’s transcripts are a veritable gold mine for this kind of research; all the spoken words are transcribed, but also what we see as text in the show, plus descriptions of the scenes. I can’t stress enough how useful this is.

I looked up all the times the words ‘press’, ‘paper’, ‘media’ and ‘journalist’ occurred in the dialogue or the descriptions, and the hits were so many that it almost got a bit worrisome. There are media references in every single episode except TFP – even in MHR - and in some of them media plays a central role.

Observations:

To begin with, John and Sherlock read newspapers a lot. This might give a touch of domesticity to the scenes at 221B, but maybe it could also mean something more deep and symbolic. Media is of course useful for Sherlock’s professional work, and we often see him studying newspaper clips as data collection for the cases. But in general, it’s not exactly a positive picture of the media that this show paints; all the contrary in fact.

Secondly, the whole show begins with a case that alerts the media. Apart from the scenes with John Watson’s solitary bedsit, the first thing we see in ASiP is a supposed suicide followed by the press. It escalates to a bigger police press conference when the number of similar ‘suicides’ grows to three. One of the journalists seems to be a bit sensationalist, since she’s immediately asking about serial killers and the public’s safety. Sherlock appears to have the phone numbers to all the attending journalists, since he repeatedly sends them the same text message, synchronized with Lestrade’s statements: “Wrong!” This indicates, to me, that the media isn’t getting the right picture of the events; thus, it’s not a reliable source.

This is a literal monster-post, so I’ll put most of it below the cut.

The forth victim of ‘suicide’ in ASiP is from the media according to Sherlock, going by the ‘alarming shade of pink’ of her clothing. (And what does he imply by this? Maybe that media people tend to want to draw attention to themselves, when they rather should reflect other people and the events?)

TBB Another media guy is murdered; Brian Lukis, a freelance journalist. This topic sounded promising to me; was this an investigative journalist onto some interesting case-related info? But in the end he turns out to have been a smuggler who was suspected for treason by his own criminal gang and executed. His diary does help Sherlock and John to solve the case though.

TGG Sherlock has collected old newspaper articles from the eighties about Carl Powers, the young swimmer who was killed by a supposed seizure in a pool. This info was wrong, however, as Sherlock could prove in what became his first ‘case’. But no-one listened. In the next case in TGG, media is gossiping about a dead celebrity – Connie Prince - and her family relations, which leads Sherlock on the track of the murderer. John and Sherlock themselves pretend to be from the press when they interview the victim’s brother. The murderer turns out to be the brother’s lover, who is crowded by the press when the police take him away.

ASiB This is where Sherlock and John start being famous; thanks to John describing their cases on his blog they have become an ‘Internet phenomenon’, and even Scotland Yard reads it. The press creates Sherlock’s famous deerstalker style when he grabs a random hat at a theatre crime scene to protect himself from photographers. But the effect is exactly the opposite; now Sherlock and John are suddenly ‘Hat-man and Robin’. The details of a news article (transcribed by someone in Ariane DeVere’s comment section here ) is particularly interesting; this is where media starts to make insinuations about the “confirmed bachelors” at 221B and the “salacious truth about their home life”.

(By the way – this newspaper also claims that John’s blog “has become one of the Internet’s most visited websites”. Yes; it got stuck on 1895 hits in ASiB, but if this newspaper is right (never trust that, though ;) ) the number from T6T – 18 493 – cannot possibly be correct either; the Internet is a vast thing… )

Sherlock doesn’t like his deerstalker image at all, but John publishes it on his blog, claiming some dubious reason for it: “People like the hat”. He thinks the whole hat thing is funny and can’t seem to resist teasing Sherlock about it when the picture shows up in a paper in THoB.

The central case in THoB is about Henry Knight, who believes a gigantic monster hound killed his father 20 years ago, a mythical animal which has eventually become the local tourist attraction of Grimpen village in Dartmoor. Media helps greatly to feed this myth, when TV makes a spooky reportage of it where Henry is interviewed. Sherlock does not approve of this take of the events, however; he stresses that he prefers to do his own editing. (Another little comment on media’s role, on the show’s meta level? Or maybe a hint about his mind palace being active?).

(In this same episode, Sherlock is also suspected of being a journalist when he starts asking questions about the Hound, but he quickly denies this).

TRF This is the point of no return I believe; Sherlock and John start getting literally harassed by the media. In fact the whole episode is a big media circus. Every new case of any public importance that Sherlock solves, the press seems to be present. It annoys Sherlock to receive unwanted gifts of gratitude in public – especially when Scotland Yard (smirkingly) gives him a new deerstalker to fit with his (false) press image. It’s also in this episode that Sherlock finds hidden cameras inside his and John’s flat. We’re never told who put them there, though; it could be Mycroft (who talks about ‘surveillance’ in ASiP), it could be Moriarty (who according to John’s blog breaks into 221B around this time and makes a video of it) or it could be someone from media.

By TRF, the ‘confirmed bachelor’ insinuations are suddenly all over the tabloids, a fact that now seems to worry John to the point of telling Sherlock that they “need to be more careful”.

I find this particularly interesting, because for the first time John is reacting negatively to their fame – which he is personally responsible for, having tried to draw attention to Sherlock’s work with his blog posts for quite some time. And John was never particularly ‘careful’ about the things he wrote about Sherlock. But now the whole thing seems to be descending into the area of homophobia; the papers’ badly hidden speculations about John and Sherlock being a gay couple are done in a sensationalist way, violating their privacy. John doesn’t take this lightly, but actually seems to blame Sherlock for it, who never wanted public attention in the first place (“try to stay out of the news”…) Shouldn’t John have to eat his own words here, having claimed earlier that ‘people want to know about the real you’? Which means they’ll also want to know about the ‘real’ John Watson? John seems to have some negative experience of this, going by how he now describes the media:

I believe this point in the story is crucial; here Sherlock starts to see himself as ‘bad for John’, believing that it’s he, Sherlock, who is drawing unwanted attention to John. If homophobia is personified by Moriarty in this show, this is where it starts to seriously persecute Sherlock, and by proxy John. Maybe this is the real reason why Sherlock faked his death and disappeared from John’s life for two years? John was threatened by media’s homophobia, which made Sherlock believe it was basically his fault, and that he ‘needed to disappear’ so John wouldn’t be associated with him any more, at least until the storm had blown over? Perhaps that’s why Sherlock was looking sad when John couldn’t see him, as Molly suggested? I strongly suspect this is actually the case.

This is also the point in the story where Moriarty appears again, commits crimes to drag Sherlock into his little ‘game’ again and meets him for the first time since the pool scene in TGG. And the media – press and TV - cover it all thoroughly, to the tunes of ‘Sinnerman’ by Nina Simone. It’s all so suggestive that I believe the homophobic implications must be intentional.

There’s also Moriarty’s trial at the Old Bailey and Sherlock put behind bars for contempt, in spite of being summoned there as a mere witness. This is the same court room and very similar procedure as that of famous writer Oscar Wilde in 1895 (same number of hits that John’s blog was stuck on in ASiB, by the way). There’s even a sub-textual pun about it in the press: “Crown Jewel thief is to be tried at the Old Bailey.” The same prison (Pentonville) figures, where Wilde was held in hard labour two years for ‘gross indecency’, which broke down his health and spirit entirely and eventually led to his premature death. But homophobia Moriarty walks free, after having blackmailed the jury.

In another detail beautifully captured by Ariane De Vere, The Guardian writes at the end of their article: “The case is riddled with irony and intrigue but perhaps reflects a deeper malaise that seems to be at the heart of a society.” Is this ‘malaise’ perhaps meant to be homophobia?

(I’m aware many of these things have been pointed out before, by meta writers far more eloquent than me. I just think they deserve to be mentioned again and not be forgotten. Feel free to link to those meta if you have the links at hand).

During Moriarty’s trial, Sherlock meets a particularly nasty tabloid journalist in the men’s rest room: Kitty Riley. Kitty is pretending to be a fan and tries to flirt with him in an over-sexualised way, in order to get some juicy story out of him. Which Sherlock of course immediately sees through. He deduces an ink smudge on her wrist: “Journalist. Unlikely you’d get your hands dirty at the press”. So - what does this tell us about Sherlock’s view of journalists? Not willing to do ‘leg work’? When he refuses to give an interview, Kitty chases after him, starts making insinuations about him and John and offers to help him “set the record straight” for the press. It ends with a furious Sherlock expressing his disgust right into her Dictaphone:

Some time after this, John is summoned to Mycroft’s Diogenes Club to talk about Sherlock. It turns out Kitty Riley has published a defamatory story about him in The Sun - a big tabloid known for its misogyny, homophobia and Thatcherism during the eighties, with some insulting right-wing messages that even its own print workers refused to print. Possibly a hint in Sherlock’s little comment to Kitty about not getting her hands dirty at the press? When John sees the tabloid he asks Mycroft: “You read this stuff?” The article claims that Sherlock is a fraud, supposedly revealed by his ‘close friend’ Richard Brook (Moriarty in disguise).

Interestingly, when the Chief Superintendent of NSY later orders Lestrade to go arrest Sherlock, after Donovan has told him about her (very poorly founded) suspicions regarding Sherlock, he refers to him as “That bloke that’s been in the press” – a direct cause-and-effect scenario regarding media’s influence? Another interesting thing is that Moriarty claims himself (at their later encounter in Kitty’s apartment) to be an actor, a ‘story teller’ – something that he then repeats when he meets Sherlock next time, up at the roof top of Barts hospital: “’Genius detective proved to be a fraud.’ I read it in the paper, so it must be true. I love newspapers. Fairy tales. And pretty Grimm ones, too.”

And consequentially, after Sherlock has jumped, we see Mycroft reading the headlines and straplines of The Sun: “Suicide of fake genius” and “Super-sleuth is dead” and “Fraudulent detective takes his own life”. Indeed; in this show the media is not depicted in anything remotely like a positive light.

MHR In this little interlude in the hiatus between TRF and TEH, we get another noteworthy detail: As Sherlock travels around Eurasia solving crimes in disguise, he manages to get someone called Trepoff sentenced for murder (a reference to ACD canon) in Germany. And the case makes it to the headlines of the British press: CAM Global News writes “Trepoff ‘Guilty’ Sensation!” So this is Charles Augustus Magnussen’s news empire – the media personified. More about that later. And who has the ‘guilty sensation’? Who is feeling guilty? Could it possibly have to do with Sherlock feeling bad for what he did to John?

TEH The episode starts with Anderson trying to make a case for Sherlock still being alive and theorizing about how he made it, while the TV reporters are telling the world that Sherlock has been posthumously freed of all accusations; Moriarty did exist for real (they don’t mention Jim’s supposed suicide though). But the blame is now on the police - never on the media! At the end of the episode, Sherlock seems to have resigned to his media image; now that he has ‘returned from the dead’ and finally meets the press, he puts on his deerstalker and talk to the reporters outside 221B. It’s unclear to me why he actually does this - any suggestions?

TSoT By the time we reach this episode, media attention has turned to other stuff: a series of bank robberies have been committed during the last 1½ years, and according to the papers the police are ‘baffled’. Greg Lestrade thinks that the only way to capture them is ‘in the act’. But when an opportunity eventually comes to him, and they’re waiting for the criminals to fall in their trap, Greg receives an emergency call from Sherlock (or at least that’s what he thinks it is), and has to leave the credits to someone else.

Later in the episode John tells Sherlock about his friend and commanding officer, James Sholto, who lost a battle in Afghanistan and let a group of new soldiers to their death. Sholto is now living isolated because “the press and the families gave him hell”, and consequently he receives death threats. Yet another negative example of media’s influence. And when John and Sherlock later visit the Queen’s Household Guard to speak to private Bainbridge, Major Reed receives John in a rather condescending manner. Reed suspects him of being a journalist, and doesn’t want to let him in. But in spite of this, we are yet again confronted with “I’ve seen you in the papers - hang around with that detective – the one with the silly hat”. No end, apparently, to the negative influence the press has on John’s and Sherlock’s work.

Another case in this episode shows the Mayfly Man, who uses the newspapers’ obituary columns to find empty apartments where he dates certain women for just one night. There’s no sex involved, though; he just does this to get info about Major Sholto, whom he intends to kill. It might be of interest that the criminal in this case is the photographer of John’s wedding. Which could mean, if you want to look at it symbolically, that ‘death in the newspapers’ is connected to taking photos of people, which leads to attempts on their lives.

HLV And here we get to Charles Augustus Magnussen (CAM); a villain whom Sherlock loathes. On John’s and Mary’s wedding in TSoT he sent a card saying: “...Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM. Wish your family could have seen this.” Which makes ‘Mary’ look worried, as if there is a threat to this.

In HLV we learn that CAM is a petty but very powerful blackmailer who owns a news imperium. Sherlock sees him as a shark with dead eyes and is absolutely disgusted: “I’ve dealt with murderers, psychopaths, terrorists, serial killers. None of them can turn my stomach like Charles Augustus Magnussen”. “He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power. I’m not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail...”

This goes far beyond the evil Charles Augustus Milverton in ACD Canon, and I think this is extremely telling: media is depicted as a villain – by Sherlock as well as by the show itself. It’s not about individual journalists; it’s about the whole concept of persecuting people, finding their pressure points, stalking their private lives and publicly speculating about things like their sexual orientation. It’s a form of blackmail which is mostly legal (in the name of free speech), but which totally has the power to destroy lives. Like Jeff Hope in ASiP, media CAM drives people to suicide whenever they try to resist his blackmail.

Isn’t the fact that CAM personally intrudes into Sherlock’s apartment, uninvited and with armed body guards at his side, quite symbolic as well? They don’t go in with unsecured guns like the CIA agents in ASiB, so why would Sherlock even allow this? Why would he allow them to intimidate Mrs Hudson with their mere appearance (remember what Sherlock did to the CIA guy in ASiB)? Why would he allow CAM to urinate in his fireplace without even a protest? Something is too weird to be true here, but that’s for another meta ;). What I want to point out is the metaphorical similarity between CAM and media’s methods: violating people’s private lives, getting into their homes and doing what he wants with them, because he has a hold on them: anything an individual say can be used against them, to smear their reputation. And there’s no way of stopping him from printing rubbish; “The world is wet to my touch”, indeed.

I believe the symbolism is unmistakable here; media has its grip on the nation as long as people sheepishly lap up whatever ‘warm paste’ they are served; even the authorities are under its thumb. Sherlock believes that he can fool media CAM, by distracting CAM’s attention to something he is prepared of (his drug use). But he learns in HLV that this is delusional, because CAM has his weakest pressure point entirely in his hands: John Watson. And as we perceive in TSoT, CAM clearly has some dirt on ‘Mary’ that can potentially harm John, even if I do think this might be something different from what it seems to be in HLV. Following the logics of TRF, I believe it’s more likely this has something to do with destroying people’s private lives, than with assassins and such.

The interesting thing is that Sherlock doesn’t actually solve this crime; instead he kills CAM in frustration, which temporarily keeps John safe (or at least so Sherlock believes).

But before this, there’s the whole debacle with Sherlock being shot (by ‘Mary’). His fake girlfriend Janine (who is CAM’s PA) comes to visit him at the hospital, but is acting very strangely. Janine has of course all reason to be upset that Sherlock lied to her and used her only to get into her boss’s office. But instead she has taken a supposed revenge on Sherlock by telling the press that he’s some kind of a sex god and have the tabloids print it. Why would this be so detrimental to Sherlock’s reputation, considering the reigning heteronormativity in society? It would rather ‘set the records straight’, as Kitty put it in TRF, so I find this a bit hard to understand as revenge. The weirdest thing of it all, though, is that not a word is printed about the famous detective being shot and almost killed! How is it even possible to keep this secret?? This isn’t really media as we’ve known it from the show; too ‘good’ to be true. I can totally understand that it hurts Sherlock on a personal level to be called straight, though, particularly since he’s in love with John Watson. But that’s not public, is it?

TAB Even in TAB, which partly happens in the Victorian age (where ACD canon took place), media is mentioned repeatedly. The Strand Magazine with the Sherlock Holmes stories (directly from ACD Canon) is sold on a London street, and Watson gets a copy of course. But Holmes doesn’t seem the slightest interested in talking to the news-vendor. In other papers, there are lots of sensational headlines, though, about ‘murder, mystery and mayhem’. The unsolved case of Emilia Ricoletti - the vengeful ‘ghost’ - seems to have particular coverage. Later in the show, Holmes gathers the news clips and tries to solve the Ricoletti case inside 221B, while influenced by drugs. Apparently even here, where the events are confirmed as happening inside Sherlock’s mind, the press is gathered outside his home. And for some reason Mrs Hudson seems to be serving them tea…

T6T The few things I can find in T6T that has to do with media is a) that John (supposedly) says on his blog that “You’ll have seen on the news about how Sherlock recovered the Mona Lisa”and b) that Ajay, ‘Mary’s old AGRA companion whom Sherlock had been fighting with about a Thatcher bust, seems to have a false identity as a journalist; Eshan Mohindra. Strangely, this is the third media person who gets murdered in this show (the first being Jennifer Wilson and the second Brian Lukis).

TLD In this episode, the media is back again as a concept; this time in the form of entourage around Culverton Smith, a philanthropist and TV celebrity who owns a hospital. According to Sherlock, though, Culverton is “the most dangerous and despicable human being”; a monster that “must be ended”. Sherlock is attacking Smith on social media, trying to make him confess to being a serial killer, but he gets caught in Smith’s public shows aimed to gain fame and sell products. There’s the Cereal Killer adverts and then Sherlock’s public chat to the hospitalized kids, together with Smith. But Sherlock seems unable to present any kind of evidence against Smith; at the end of the show we still have no idea who he has killed or where or when. But Sherlock gets his confession while Smith is trying to suffocate him (on his own request!). Hmm.

TFP In the latest episode of BBC Sherlock, media is surprisingly absent; not even 221B being blown up or the capture of Sherlock Holmes’ dangerous, murderous sister seems to have attracted any press attention (and not much of anyone else’s attention either, by the way). I wonder why that might be?

Anyway, this means we’ve now arrived to the end of my little monster-post research - thanks to everyone who has had the patience to read this far! Just for the fun of it, I’ve intentionally tried to write parts of this meta in a speculative way, in some ways resembling media’s methods of asking leading questions, of which there are many examples in the show. But even so, I think there are also plenty of evidence in it that begs the audience to pay attention to the mechanisms of media, and hopefully apply critical thinking to it.

In summary, I think the negative picture of media’s role in BBC Sherlock is blatantly obvious. What this actually means is not entirely clear to me, because in our society I believe media also has a very important positive role of spreading knowledge and important information, providing public insight into things like power abuse, investigating wrongdoings that otherwise never would be exposed, etc. This is not depicted, though. But since I tend to believe that this show is entirely presented from inside Sherlock’s head in one way or another, what we see might actually be Sherlock’s view of media. Which also would be consistent with his personal negative experience of them in TRF.

But in any case, the message I take from all these negative media references, is that we - the audience - should not just lap up whatever is said about this show in real life media. There’s definitely more to it than the ‘face value’.

Tagging some people who might be interested: @ebaeschnbliah @raggedyblue @sarahthecoat @gosherlocked @sagestreet @tjlcisthenewsexy

#media in sherlock

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dontshootmespence · 7 years ago

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Through the Lens

Part 7

When you left Spencer’s apartment and returned home by yourself, you felt like shit. This was exactly what JJ had been afraid of – you didn’t want to call it quits outright, after all you knew to an extent what you were getting into, but you needed to step back and learn to make peace with the fact that your life was going to be invaded constantly.

The second you returned to your apartment, you looked at the window to see some of the paparazzi from JJ’s place; they’d followed you here. It was all legal though – and the thought made you want to throw up.

Pulling out your phone, you wiped a tear away, the invasive headlines flashing before your eyes before you had the chance to text Spencer and Luke.

Y/N: I truly do appreciate both of you opening your home to me. Please take care of JJ for now, I’m just…I’m just really having a hard time with this.

L: I’m more like you – a behind the scenes guy, but I will say that you get used to it.

L: Well, you learn to tune it out. We’re out by the way. I don’t know if you saw the headlines.

Shit. You pulled up the Internet on your phone and gazed at the plethora of headlines now also including Spencer and Luke.

Model Spencer Reid Seeing Designer Luke Alvez – How Long Have They Been Dating?

Is Spencer Reid Dating Jennifer Jareau or Luke Alvez? Click for Details about the Lurid Love Triangle.

How Will This Effect His Career? Spencer Reid is Gay!

It went on and on and on.

Y/N: Holy fuck, I’m so sorry.

S: It’s okay. We were prepared.

Y/N: How do you deal with this? Don’t you find it invasive?

S: Absolutely. But it’s not what’s most important.

Y/N: What do you mean?

S: I mean I push beyond it because of who I’m dating.

L: What he means is if you want each other enough you will find ways to work though it.

Despite the nature of the situation, you found yourself smiling. They were really good together; it seemed effortless, like they just fit together. Did you feel that way about JJ? You assumed so, but you were going to need to reflect on things for the next few days – you had to determine whether or not you wanted to put in the work to make this relationship thrive.

Y/N: Thank you both again. Please take care of JJ while I figure this out, okay?

S: Absolutely. Stay strong.

L: Will do.

Apparently, she’d left their apartment for a moment, because as soon as you let the phone fall to your side, still clutched tightly in your hand, JJ called. “Y/N?”

“Hey, JJ,” You said, resigned. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly. I just…” Your throat felt scratchy; it brought tears to your eyes. “I knew this would be hard, but it’s harder than I thought. I underestimated things.”

Though she was trying to be strong on the other side, you could hear the small sniffles. “I understand.” The way she said it broke your heart. In her voice, you could hear the reflections of her past. First, she’d lost Kate, and now she felt like she was losing you too. “Please, just know that I want this to work.”

“I do,” you replied. “And I promise, I’m not calling things off right now. I just need to learn on my own how I’m supposed to deal with this new life.”

Swallowing hard, she repeated that she understood. Before she hung up, she started to say something that sounded like I love you, but she stopped herself. “Bye, babe,” she said softly.

Although she’d hung up, you could practically hear her sobbing at Spencer’s apartment and it made you feel weighed down, so with a heavy heart, you went to bed, praying that the answer you your problems would come to you in your dreams.

---

Over the next few weeks, you had little to no contact with JJ. Every time you felt like you could talk to her and start figuring things out, you’d go out and come across another paparazzi that took pictures as you covered your face, or tried to upskirt you, or ask you questions about how JJ was in bed. You stormed passed these people, not giving them a piece of your mind however tempting it was. Each incident was disheartening and made you hesitate to call her again.

On top of that, you watched the headlines unfold between regarding Spencer and Luke. The pictures were plentiful at first, and then became few and far between. They’d taken to wearing the same one or two outfits when they went out, which left the paparazzi having little to work with.

With the lack of pictures to go by, the headlines evolved. People started claiming everything under the sun about their relationship, saying that “sources” gave them exclusive information all of which you knew to be untrue.

You remained inside for the most part, asking Blake to put off work for a few more days and then a few more days and then a few more, unable to muster the courage to go outside and face the onslaught of bullshit. “What’s keeping you from making a decision?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know. I want her. I really do,” you replied, curling into a ball on the couch. “She’s amazing. JJ is beautiful, but that’s so little of why I love her, I mean she’s funny, she’s sweet, she’s kind and intelligent. She’s carefree, she’s thoughtful, she’s confident but not cocky about who she is and what she does. She makes me feel like the most important person in the world despite the fact that I’m just a random fashion photographer that happened the cross paths with her. I get this pitter patter, butterflies in the stomach feeling every single time I see her, I mean…” You trailed off, coming to a realization.

“Do you realize what you just said?” Blake asked.

“I said I love her.”

You could almost hear Blake’s smile on the other side of the phone. “You did. You do. You love her. Do the paparazzi suck? Absolutely. Are they going to try and invade certain parts of your life? Definitely, but if she loves you as much as you love her, I truly think you can find a way to work through it all.”

“Thanks, Alex,” you replied. “I’ll call you later?”

“Yes, please. Let me know what’s up and when I can put you back to work. I have a promising new talent under my employ and I want her to push the boundaries. Cool?”

“More than cool. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Alex was the coolest boss in the world.

Placing the phone on the counter, you ran to pack some clothes, hoping to talk things through with JJ tonight. She was back at her apartment, so you ran down the stairs and to your car, passing a few paparazzi and giving them a smile. As the windows blocked you from the cameras, you picked up your phone once more to call JJ.

You were horrified by what you saw.

Since walking out nearly a month ago, the headlines had continued, but died down as the days went on. Apparently, Michael Hastings was pissed about not getting all the headlines he wanted, because that was the only reason you could think of for what you saw – it was vindictive. On the front page of numerous websites was a picture of JJ sunbathing on the balcony of her apartment. And she was topless.

JJ had never done nude photos before. Lingerie yes, but never nudes. It was where she crossed the line, wanting to model the clothes on her body and not her body itself. If she hadn’t already seen this, she was going to be devastated. Angrily, you threw the phone into the passenger’s seat and made your way to her apartment.

When you arrived, you ran up the stairs. She still had no idea you were coming. Hopefully, she’d want to see you, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t; you’d gone nearly a month without speaking.

You knocked on the door and called out. “JJ, it’s me. You there?”

She opened the door, your heart breaking as the tears rolled down her face. “What are you doing here?” She asked, a look of relief washing over her. “I’m sorry, I’m just so…”

“I saw,” you said. “Hastings took that picture?”

“Yea,” she said, collapsing into your shoulder.

“I’ll kill him.” You were livid that he’d violated her like that. “I’m so sorry.” About everything, leaving her, talking so long to come to such an obvious realization, Hastings taking advantage of her like that – all of it. She rested her head in the crook of your neck and backed you into her apartment. “I’m not going anywhere, okay. We’ll get through this together.”

Through tears, she looked up and pressed a kiss to your lips. You wanted to scream from the top of your lungs that you loved her, but you’d save that for another time. For now, you’d come up with a plan of attack to combat against the invasiveness that was waiting just outside her doors.

@coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @marvelfanlife @amarislestrange @obsessed5sosfreak @sonhadoraativa @1enchantedfantasy1 @ace-and-rosey @twelveyearoldchildprodigy @offbrandcursewords @entelechysymphony @milkandcookies528 @pugs-cats-bb-8 @davidr0ssi @sarahkay-19 @alexialoveseverlark @gigglyprentiss @myhogwartslibrary @stunudo @the-slytherin-ice-queen @ultrarebelheart @arizonalovesher @tarciau @the-awesome-one-with-pigtails @introspectivecrab @twisnies

If you want to be tagged in future installments, please like this post!

#jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau fanfiction #jennifer jareau fic #dontshootmespence #through the lens

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mymixofmuses · 5 years ago

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Pen Pals

(A roleplay between my Audrey muse and @red-rad-and-rod .) It had been about a week since Audrey met J.C. and his siblings. It was kind of hard to miss them, given Lola seemingly bee-lined towards them during their stay at the park. She was grateful for her pooch’s detour, however, as the three proved to be good company (as did their father, who they had lunch with.) She wasn’t sure how long she should wait before emailing J.C., but figured a week was a long enough wait to not seem overly eager. She did originally intend to only send pictures of the dogs to show his sisters, but now she wanted to talk to him too. She decided to start slow, with a simple email. This is J.C., right? It’s Audrey, from Michigan. Here are some pictures of Lola in some flowers. She wasn’t supposed to be in them, but I just had to snap a few pictures before I got her out! Let me know how you three like them! She hoped asking for a response would lead the way to them talking about more than dogs.

#Pen Pals #roleplay #compiled roleplay #redradandrod #muse: Audrey Davis

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