#Yup that'll last long

[pomeraniandancer]

Frostpunk broke my brain. So, I like gaming, and I like a lot of games, and I've kind of had Frostpunk as a game that I want to play eventually on my backburner for a while now. Just recently I happened to see the opening cut scene for the entire game. And it completely confounded me.

Like, I get it, for game storyline purposes and stuff, they kinda need the population to go to the nearest oil supply, etc., and apparently that nearest oil source is the North Sea or something (don't at me if I'm getting some storyline stuff mixed up, all I've seen is the opening scene and the music).

The entire opening thesis is that the world has been plunged into a very sudden Ice Age. I highly doubt Ice Ages actually impact the Earth as suddenly as this one in-game did, unless triggered by some external cause (a meteor, for example). But I digress, willing suspension of disbelief and all that. But. Then the narrator and his colleagues decide that their only choice is to pull everyone together and go...NORTH?!?! WHY. The HELL. Would ANYONE. Go NORTH. After being PLUNGED into a BRAND NEW ICE AGE. That's the point where my brain went blank. They're not in South Africa or South America -- from what I can tell, they're from somewhere in England, considering the new city they found is called New London. Going north from England in the depths of a new Ice Age makes no logical sense, and that was the point where I dropped my willing suspension of disbelief. Like, I'll still buy and play the game at some point. But the foundational thesis of the game is nonsensical.

That's setting aside the questionable usage of steam-powered engines in Ice Age Scandinavia (again, just a guess there), but the reasons for that -- and I how I know it -- is a post for another day.

[ckret2]

Chapter 77 of human Bill Cipher being a prisoner with terrible fashion sense: beach episode!!! Well, lake episode. Close enough.

And a few other people come to town.

Just after dawn, a sleek, nondescript black government SUV, now dusty from a long drive, parked in front of the Gravity Falls Police Department. Three agents in sleek, nondescript black suits stepped out.

As they left the car, Blubs came out to meet them, Durland trailing behind him. "Agent Powers, Agent Trigger! Good to see you again." He shook Powers's hand, then glanced at the new agent. "And you are...?"

"Agent Dale!" The rookie shook Blubs's hand next, beaming. "Very pleased to meet you. I was just saying in the car—you have a beautiful town here, just beautiful."

"Wouldn't stop talking about it," Trigger muttered.

Blubs chuckled. "Why, thank you. We're quite proud of it ourselves."

Durland said, "Say, Agent Dale—don't you agents usually have tougher-sounding codenames?"

"Agent Clyde S. Dale. Like the horse."

"Ohhh. Yup, that'll do it."

"Sheriff Blubs," Powers said. "I trust you have the requested materials?"

"Right inside," Blubs said. "We've got the readings on last week's gravity anomaly from McGucket's scanners, and reports on this weekend's power surge."

"No overlap between the incidents?"

"None anyone here detected."

"Hmm. Has anything else strange happened since we were last in town?"

Blubs hesitated. "Well—never mind all that." He quickly shifted topics, "Say, I like your 'honk if you want to be arrested' bumper sticker." ("Oh is that what it says?" Durland asked.)

Agent Powers said solemnly, "I can get you the contact information of the shop where I bought it. It's a very nice small business run by art students."

"Would you? That'd be delightful."

Powers paused before following the cops and his agents into the police department, glancing out at Gravity Falls' town square—the modest little main street shops, the town hall, the statue of the town founder, the distinctive water tower with the faded muffin graffiti, and the familiar mountains surrounding the little valley town.

And then he let out a long, frustrated sigh.

"Fine," he muttered grumpily, glaring at the town as though it were an old rival as annoyed to see him as he was to see it. "Let's just get this over with."

He followed Blubs into the police department.

####

"Attention, everybody," Stan said, standing in the entryway with his fists on his hips, Soos beaming behind him. "I've got some great news!"

Abuelita and Bill glanced up from one of Abuelita's soap operas; Mabel and Dipper craned their necks to see Stan from where they were having dinner at the kitchen table.

Stan announced, "It's finally time!"

Dipper and Mabel blinked. Bill said, "Great. I'll get the ritual daggers, you can set up the blood red candles. Dolores?"

Abuelita said, "I will put out the good sacrifice altar." Bill laughed in delight.

"Yeah, yuck it up, you two," Stan said. "We're going fishing tomorrow! I've got the bait, I found everyone's rods, Soos and I patched up the old boat, I even—" He paused at the sound of the vending machine opening. "Hey! Ford!"

Ford ducked in from the gift shop. "What?" 

Stan chucked a hat at him. "I made you a fishing buddy hat! See, it's got your name! That's pretty good!"

"Oh." Ford inspected the letters haphazardly stitched onto the hat. "Why?"

"Fishing tomorrow! Half the summer's gone by, and we haven't gone fishing once! The guys from the lodge probably think I'm too ashamed to show my face. But it rained this weekend, the weather's just cleared up, now's the perfect time for fishing!"

"Oh," Ford said again, trying to drag his thoughts from magical tapes to fishing. "If you'd let me know earlier, I'd have built another fish-summoning beacon like the one on our boat." (Bill glanced curiously at Ford at the mention of an invention he didn't already know about; then stubbornly refused to be interested and dragged his gaze back to the TV.)

"No beacons! This isn't fishing for survival, this is about the sport! Asserting our manhood! Just the skill, strength, and patience of three men—and some women and children—against the lake!" (Soos beamed at being included amongst the men.)

Ford considered that. He didn't assert his manhood very often; usually he just sort of let his manhood hang around minding its own business, like an old cat that wants to be in the same room as you without socializing. It sounded like an intriguingly novel experience. "Okay, great. What time?"

"I want everyone on the road tomorrow morning! By six thirty at the latest."

The kids groaned.

"C'mon, dudes," Soos said encouragingly. "It'll be fun! After about three hours, once you're awake enough to think."

"No griping, we've gotta be there early to get a prime fishing spot," Stan said. "Tomorrow's a lodge fishing day. We're going home with a haul so big they'll be embarrassed they kicked me out!"

Dipper asked, "You mean the lodge for the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, right? Why'd they kick you out?"

Stan sighed, "Once the town found out about Ford, they realized I'd spent the last thirty years attending lodge meetings under his membership. Since I'd never undergone the—" He rolled his eyes and made finger quotes, "'sacred angler initiation rites,' they booted me. And they said I can't try to join again, just because of that one dumb little white lie! And my extensive criminal record."

Ford hurriedly crossed the living room to avoid blocking Abuelita's TV view. (Bill looked through him like he wasn't there.) "Stan got a lot more out of my membership than I did—once I'd finished my initiation I probably only ever attended three meetings. I tried to petition the Mackerels to let him rejoin."

"How'd they respond?" Mabel asked.

"They kicked me out too."

Bill scoffed. "Big deal! The Fishmasons and all their subordinate organizations are just a big boring social club that got you hotel discounts three hundred years ago. The mystique around them is more interesting than anything they actually do."

"Figuring that out is why I stopped attending after three meetings," Ford said. "I joined to learn about the dark secret underbelly of Western politics—not sit around eating charcuterie and fancy nuts while everyone talks about baseball and makes fun of me for not knowing what a fly ball is. It's a stupid term! Doesn't the ball always fly?"

"Really, they aren't even worth joining," said Bill Cipher, the only person to have ever been kicked out of seventeen separate Masonic lodges in seventeen separate bodies.

Reminded of the fancy nuts he was missing out on at this very second, Stan set his jaw in determination. "Yeah, well, they're a big boring social club that'll rue the day they kicked out Stan Pines! Out the door, six thirty, on the dot!"

"I don't have an alarm," Bill said. "Hey star girl, wake me at five."

Mabel shuddered at the thought of setting an alarm that early. "No way. You can borrow my radio."

"Hold on, I didn't say you're invited," Stan said. "We've already got a full boat! Me, my brother, the kids, and Soos and his girl. Nobody wants to sit on the lake with you for eight hours."

"I wanna sit on the lake with Bill!"

"Nobody but Mabel wants that."

"Relax! I don't want to sit on a boat with you underpainted clowns either," Bill said. "I just want to sit on the beach! I miss sunlight! Sunlight without being forced to hike through half the valley on no food or sleep."

(Ford decided that was his cue to make himself scarce. He scooted into the guest room.)

"Well," Stan said, "we're not staying thirty feet from the shore, we're not leaving anybody behind, and we don't trust you to stay put on the beach without your dumb magic bracelet—so how do you expect that to work."

"I'll just stay with Dolores."

Stan and Soos stared at Abuelita. Soos said, "Abuelita? Do you want to come?"

Abuelita considered it. "Sure. The weather is nice. I can catch up on my reading."

"Yes!" Bill hopped off the couch. "Then it's a plan!"

"Hey, hold on," Stan said as Bill breezed past him, "I didn't agree to—"

"Hey star girl!" Bill leaned into the kitchen. "Need your fashion services! I need a swimsuit before tomorrow."

Mabel gasped in delight. "What kind?"

"Whatever exposes the most skin without getting me arrested. I'm absorbing as much sunlight as possible."

"With sunscreen, right?" Soos said.

Bill turned and gave him a blank-faced stare.

Soos hopefully repeated, "With sunscreen?"

"Don't need it."

"You totally do, dude. Not many people talk about this? But having more melanin doesn't totally protect you from sun damage, it just slows it down," Soos said. "Trust me on this. When I was like eight, I went to this water park—

"Uh-huh, and three days later you were peeling off flakes of your own dead flesh," Bill said. "It's cute how you think you know more about humans from 23 years of passively being one than I do from 500,000 years of actively studying them."

"Oh."

"C'mon, star girl! No time to waste!" Bill grabbed Mabel's hand and tugged her off her chair.

"Wait, my sandwich—!" Mabel grabbed the rest of her dinner off her plate and shoved it in her mouth as Bill dragged her upstairs.

Abuelita shot him a dirty look as he passed, but turned back to her soap opera.

####

Just past five in the morning, Bill crept by the guest room door. He glanced through the wall as he passed; good, both of the Stans were in bed and sound asleep. Bill wouldn't have had a chance to get up to his mischief if Ford had decided to sleep downstairs.

He snuck behind the vending machine; paused to squint toward the future and confirm that when he looked at the stairs, he could only see himself using them anytime soon; then down to the elevator; and down, down to Ford's study.

Bill sighed in relief when the elevator slid open and he saw that Ford had left his study door ajar. He crept into the room, feet socked, hands gloved—Ford was the kind of paranoid to actually check for prints if he suspected anything, and Bill's triangular whorls were very distinctive—and looked through the objects piled on the shelves and furniture for any concealed sensors or cameras. The coast was clear.

He idly scanned the nearby shelves for any sign of his stolen time tape, didn't find it, but didn't expect to. That wasn't what he was here for.

He knelt in front of a half-disassembled filing cabinet, flipped through the files in the removed bottom drawer until he found several folders together about curses and hexes, and flipped through them until he found the one labeled "Curses & Hexes (w/ ingredients)". Good old Sixer, left everything exactly where Bill remembered it.

He rifled through the pages—"aha!"—until he found the paper he was looking for and pulled it out. Handwritten at the top of a ragged-edged piece of notebook paper were the words "Reverse Sunscreen". Bill read through the list of ingredients—"Oh, pepper juice, not pepper flakes, right."—then put the paper back.

He glanced back and forth between the past and present to ensure he put the files back exactly where he'd found them—again, considering Ford's paranoia, he might notice any difference.

And then he returned to the elevator and headed upstairs.

The whole time he was in the study, Bill didn't let himself glance at the back of the room where Ford's shrine to him used to be.

####

"Heya, pal," Bill said. "It's been a while! Where have you been hiding all summer?"

Gompers blinked up at Bill.

"I guess we both look different than we did the last time we met, huh? I think your makeover went better than mine, though! You didn't fall as far as I did." He didn't have as far to fall.

Gompers accepted the backhanded compliment with utter indifference.

"But hey, why talk about the past! Let's let bygones be bygones. Here." Bill knelt, pulled one of Ford's nutrition pills from the folds of his beach towel, and held it out. "A peace offering! A little snack for you."

Gompers eyed it warily.

"Come on, you've eaten worse things than this."

He delicately ate the pill out of Bill's hand.

"Thaaat's right. Tell me how you like that thing later."

Leaning on his car, Stan—the only other person who'd actually been ready to go at 6:30—looked over Bill's shirt and trout slippers, and asked warily, "You didn't forget that humans need to wear pants, right?"

Bill got to his feet, shoved his makeshift umbrella-cane under the same arm as his beach towel, and pulled up the hem of the puma shirt he'd stolen from the gift shop to reveal his bikini bottom. It was teal with little puffy gold triangles painted on. "Cover-up dress. Your arbitrary fashion rules are different for beaches."

Stan considered whether a t-shirt counted as a dress, decided he didn't know enough about dresses and he might as well give this one to Bill, and grunted. "Fine, you're legal."

"Am I free to go, officer?"

"Never compare me to a cop again."

"Stop acting like one!" Bill trotted off to his ride to wait for the other humans to assemble.

There wasn't room for all eight beachgoers in one vehicle; the Pines piled together in Stan's car, while the Ramirezes (including Melody—honorary future Ramirez—and Bill—magic braceleted to Abuelita) took Soos's truck. So that Abuelita didn't have to squeeze past the front seats into the back, Bill and Melody were assigned the back bench; when Bill greeted Melody and she only responded with a vague mumble and an averted gaze, he scooted closer to the middle of the bench, spread his knees to take up more space, and smugly pretended not to notice how Melody squeezed herself against the door.

By the time the Ramirez vehicle parked at the beach, the Pines family was already out of their car: Stan was glaring up the beach with his fists on his hips, the kids were unsuccessfully searching Mabel's supply bag for Dipper's sunscreen, and Ford was lingering back at the car, pretending to check the contents of their tackle box but actually trying to shake the sudden memory of weightlessness and water in his throat. As Bill passed, Ford muttered, "I'm surprised you wanted to get this close to the lake so soon. Considering." It had been less than a week since their joint near death experience.

"Why not? Nearly drowning was the most fun part of that hike." (Ford wondered whether that was a red flag, an underhanded comment about how unfun the rest of the hike had been, or just Bill being Bill; and, for his own peace of mind, decided it was probably the third thing.) "Looks like you got something fun out of the trip, too." Bill snapped the shoulder strap of Ford's waders.

Ford shoved Bill's hand away. "As long as I have them, I might as well use them."

When everyone caught up with Stan, he was scowling at four men, ages ranging from 50 to 80, wearing fishing vests and hats with the Holy Mackerel's distinctive stylized fish symbol. "Eugene," Stan muttered. "Eugene and his goons wanted to kick me out of the lodge for years. Just because I have a grating personality and am generally unpleasant to be around! And tried to get the lodge to pick a local affordable housing fund as our charity for fundraising one year!"

Ford gave Stan a surprised look. "You never mentioned you worked with an affordable housing charity."

"Yeah. The Compassionate Angel's Fund For Gravity Falls Tourism Business Owners Who Are Behind On Their Mortgage Payments."

Ford snorted. 

Bill said, "I think you should've gotten away with it just for being funny."

"Don't even look at them," Stan instructed the group. "These jerks aren't worth it." The collected group studiously avoided looking at the Mackerels, except Bill and Abuelita, who didn't care.

As they walked up the beach toward the pier and veered around the Mackerels, Stan suddenly stopped, turned straight toward them, and said loudly, "Why, Eugene! What a coincidence! I almost didn't notice you!"

A tall, elderly man with a fishing rod over one shoulder and a black wooden cane in his other hand glanced over at the Pines/Ramirez party. "Oh," he said, with a voice like he'd found a fly stuck in gum on his cane. "Hello, Stan-ley. We haven't seen you out on the lake this summer."

Stan laughed loudly, as if Eugene had told a hilarious joke. "Oh, that! I was just waiting for perfect fishing weather! I'm not about to waste my time out on the lake on a bad fishing day!" He gestured behind himself, "Besides, I had to wait until my whole family was free to come along."

(Soos elbowed Melody and whispered excitedly, "He called us his family!")

Stan clapped his hands proudly on Dipper and Mabel's shoulders—who looked like they hoped the sandy beach would swallow them whole—and said, "I don't see your family, Eugene, where are they?"

"Dead." With mournful dignity, Eugene said, "I outlived my wife and all three of my children. Remember? You ate potato chips during my daughter's funeral."

Stan opened his mouth, shut it, and said, "Was that the really boring one that went like an hour?"

Ford, who didn't always have the best social instincts but could tell when Stan had screwed up, started shooing the rest of the family away from the scene, elbowed Stan, and said, "Let's get to the boat. You wanted to get a prime fishing spot, right?"

Eugene looked at Ford. "Ah. You must be the real Stanford Pines?" he said. "So I'm assuming, anyway. Apparently it's hard to tell you two apart."

Stan scowled; but before he could retort, Bill pushed past him to butt into the conversation. "Is it ever! Listen, take it from someone who's made this mistake—you've got to count the fingers on these two, every time."

Eugene huffed sardonically. "So it seems." (Ford self-consciously hid his hands in his pockets and shot Bill a dark look as he shuffled off with the rest of the family.)

"Say, while I've got your attention—name's Goldie, by the way—I couldn't help but admire your cane!" He tapped the tip of his umbrella against Eugene's cane. "I'm in the market for an upgrade from this substitute I've been using! That's no blackwood, right? That looks like true ebony."

"Good eye," Eugene said, surprised. "Yes, genuine Gaboon ebony."

"Must've dropped a lot of gold on this thing," Bill said appreciatively. "You've gotta tell me where you got it."

"I'm afraid I don't remember off the top of my head..."

"That's fine! Look it up—" (he twisted around to speak over his shoulder as Stan grabbed his arm and dragged him away) "—I'm sure we'll meet again!"

About fifteen feet away, Stan growled, "What was that?"

"Networking. I've got plans for that guy," Bill said. "Hey, did you hear him? Gaboon ebony?" He laughed condescendingly. "Easiest way to make a guy look like a moron, start talking about 'true' ebonies. Didja know the word 'ebony' comes from Egyptian? And when they talked about 𓍁𓈖𓏭𓆱, they were talking about African blackwood. Wood so hard it sinks and you have to tool it like a metal! Gaboon ebony is a flimsy usurper!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"But you don't pretend you do, and that's what makes you better than that guy." Bill tugged Stan down by the shoulder. "Listen, Fisherman. I can't tell you where the fish are biting but I can tell you where they're swimming. It'll give you an advantage, but you'll need to do the rest."

Stan squinted mistrustfully at Bill. "What's the catch."

"The catch is you have to accept my help. Do you want it or not?"

"And why are you offering?"

"Because I think these lodge guys are a bunch of snobs. And they should've chosen your charity. It was funny."

That, plus Stan had been the most reluctant to let Bill live; Bill had to convince him he'd made the right choice.

Bill gave Stan directions to a bunch of fish he could see underwater by the Island Head Beast's right earhole; and then, his good deed for the day done, he headed off to claim a spot on the beach.

Ford had gone into Tate & Backle's to properly purchase the clothing they'd borrowed after the eclipse, and Soos was helping set Abuelita up with a low beach chair and a large umbrella. Bill smoothed out a patch of sand about ten feet from Abuelita so he could lay out his beach towel and dump his supplies for the day beside it. While Mabel and Melody got the boat ready, Dipper wandered around looking for sunscreen to borrow. He saw Bill's tube, snatched it without asking, and generously coated his arms, legs, and face. Bill fought back a grin and pretended not to notice.

He tossed aside his t-shirt and fish slippers, settled down on the towel in his bikini, carefully squeezed several horizontal lines of reverse sunscreen across the front of his abdomen and thighs, and drew a few vertical lines in between to break them up.

Ford trudged over from the bait shop to tell Bill, "I thought you'd like to know those ridiculous fish slippers were thirty dollars."

Bill laughed. "Whoa! Seems like a lot of money for some cheap novelty shoes! It's too bad you decided to trap me in a position where I'm too destitute and powerless to make my own purchases, isn't it?"

"All right, all right." Ford's gaze caught on the bruise-blue line discoloring the skin from Bill's left shoulder to his right hip—had he gotten injured during one of his hikes the past week? Or had that always been there? Ford didn't think he'd ever seen Bill's body shirtless, maybe it had always been here—but then he noticed Bill's lines of sunscreen and barked a laugh. "I suppose you're not planning to rub that in."

"Brilliant observation." Bill began smoothing down the lines with a finger, maintaining the pattern he'd drawn.

"You wanted to come out here to suntan? I'm sure you're already aware of the cancer risks from tanning."

"If I'm in this body long enough to get cancer, I'll welcome it." Bill lay down, laced his hands behind his head, and gave Ford an obnoxious smile. "Anyway, basal cell carcinomas are delicious. There's something kinda romantic about them, you know?"

Ford ruminated on that with thoughtful bafflement, shushed the voice in his head trying to point out that Bill was waving ever more red flags, and concluded that perhaps humans weren't meant to comprehend the romanticism of skin cancer. "Fine."

"What's everyone standing around for?" Stan asked, trudging up to Soos and Ford. "C'mon, we're burning daylight! Let's..." He trailed off, staring at Bill.

His bikini top consisted of two triangular red cups. Each cup had an enormous staring eye.

"See something ya like?" Bill asked dryly.

Stan quickly looked away. "Ugh. That's indecent."

"What is?"

"That—design!"

"What's indecent about eyeballs?"

"It looks like...!" He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

"What? What does it look like? Tell me what it looks like, Stanley."

"Never mind!" He turned away with a huff and muttered to Ford, "Can you believe him?"

"I honestly didn't notice anything until you pointed it out." Ford waved back at Bill dismissively as he followed Stan toward the boat. "Enjoy your sunburn."

"I will! I haven't had a good sunburn in centuries! That's one of the best features of earthling bodies!" Bill got comfortable and shut his eyes.

Soos finished getting Abuelita settled, headed toward the boat—but hesitated as he passed by Bill. Bill opened an eye a crack to glower up at him. "What?"

Soos mumbled, "You could've just told me you wanted to get sunburned. I mean—yesterday."

"But you didn't ask if I wanted a sunburn," Bill snapped. "You just assumed I didn't know how they work. And that's the point: you assumed I was stupid instead of considering that maybe you didn't know my plan."

"Oh. Uh... sorry." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to make you feel stupid."

Bill's irritation flared higher. He sat up. "I didn't say you made me feel stupid," he hissed, voice low, talking fast. "There's nothing that you could do to make me feel stupid. But that doesn't mean you aren't treating me like I'm stupid, does it?"

"Whoa—!" Soos raised his hands defensively. "Chill, dawg. I didn't mean—"

"What's the phrase, do ut des? 'Do unto others'? Your species's phrase. Don't treat me like I'm stupider than you and I won't have to return the favor—sound like a fair deal, Question Mark?" Bill stared up at him challengingly, brows raised.

"But th— I w— You..." Soos's protests that he'd been doing nothing but trying to do-unto-others Bill got jumbled all around under the force of Bill's spotlight glare. His shoulders slumped. "Sure," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Good." Bill lay back down. "Get out of my sun."

Soos trudged away; and Bill took a deep breath, tried to get in a meditative mindset where he could shut off his mind, and focused on the feeling of sunshine on his body.

He'd just about managed to drop into a proper trance when Abuelita called sweetly, "Bill? Would you grab a bottle of water for me?"

His face twitched toward a frown as he was dragged back to full consciousness. Hadn't Soos left them close enough for her? Some grandson. 

"Bill?"

He tried to think of an excuse to stay where he was; then growled in irritation and sat up. "Okay, okay." He couldn't afford to offend the chef with access to the poisons.

The bag with the water bottles was right behind Abuelita's elbow; but maybe her joints were stiff. Bill knelt to unzip the bag. "Another bodice ripper?" he asked, glancing at her book. 

"A powerful sorceress queen has been captured by her enemies. She just learned they are led by her former apprentice."

"I can sympathize with that." Bill dragged the bag up next to Abuelita's knee so he wouldn't need to grab another bottle for her later. "Who's the love interest—guileless guard? Heroic rescuer?"

"The apprentice."

"Sympathy's gone." Bill glanced toward the boat to see what the rest of the household was up to.

They'd already reached the spot Bill had indicated and started fishing. Soos was excitedly reeling in his line; the boat listed to one side as everyone crowded around him to see what he'd brought up. Stan dipped a net in the water to scoop up his catch.

It was a boot.

Everyone's faces fell in disappointment.

Except for Ford's, who gleefully snatched up the boot he'd kicked off during the eclipse when he fell in the lake. He dumped the water out of his boot, switched places with Soos, and began fishing the same spot.

Abuelita said, "My grandson has been very nice to you."

Bill looked at her warily.

"Hasn't he?" She had a polite smile and daggers in her eyes.

He had the oddest feeling that this was going somewhere dangerous. "Yeah yeah yeah, sure he has," Bill said. "Nothing but nice. I think I'll take a little stroll, stretch these legs! See ya!" He stood to escape.

He only got a step away before the enchanted bracelet pulled tight around his wrist. He turned around to stare in amazement.

Abuelita had wrapped the slack of the bracelet thread around her hand.

Bill had made a severe miscalculation.

"So," Abuelita said. "Why are you being mean to my grandson." It was a trap all along. She'd agreed to be handcuffed to him so she could corner him for an interrogation.

"Whaaat," Bill said. "Me? No way! I'd never!"

Abuelita stared at him patiently.

"I don't even talk to him," Bill said, trying to think of a conversational escape route.

She raised a brow.

Got it. "He's just too nice, you see! I don't know how to talk to a guy that nice," he lied. "Makes things awkward!" How could any grandmother complain about her grandson being called too nice? "Yeah—not Jesús's fault at all. I don't hold it against him."

"Ah," Abuelita said, "you aren't used to people being nice to you?"

Sure, they could go with that, try to get him some pity. "Yeah! You know how it is. King of Nightmares, scourge of the multiverse—I'm not a popular guy."

"But you have friends, don't you? The scary ones you brought with you to town last year? Are they not nice to you?"

Bill hesitated, trying to figure out his story now. "Sure—they're nice to me. They're my friends! They love me! They'd do anything I say!"

"Oh. So, you're only comfortable with people being nice to you when you can control them." Abuelita smiled sweetly.

Swift, efficient, and brutal. Bill gaped at her.

"I'm glad you have nothing against Soos," she said. "And that you won't be rude to him."

Bill snapped his mouth shut. "Of course not." He gave Abuelita a tight smile. Played like a fiddle. Even though he'd been lying, she still managed to make him look like a loser. How embarrassing. "If you don't mind, I've got a sunburn to get back to."

"I'm not stopping you." She let the extra thread on the bracelet cuffs unwind from her hand and drop to the sand.

Bill trudged back to his towel, snapping as he went, "I hope this is one of those books you hate where the couple only gets hitched because they've got a baby coming."

"The sorceress has magical birth control."

"Course she does."

Bill flopped onto his towel again and stared at the sky. Ouch.

####

(I've been promising Agent Powers AND a beach episode for ages, and we finally get to them both at the same time. Let me know what y'all think so for!)

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Bloodlust

Vampire!Shoto Todoroki x Reader

➤ You’re leaving for a week. You and Shoto come up with a plan on how he’ll survive while you’re gone, but things don’t always go as planned

»»——⍟——««A/n: ngl yall, this sat in my drafts finished for MONTHS 😭I apologize. But uhh…. This will prolly be my last vampire au writing😅

Warning⚠️: blood, needles, medical stuff (I’m aware I’m not a doctor idc if it’s inaccurate), cliffhanger ending depending on how well you know me

Masterlist

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Clothes, toiletries, shoes, snacks, and your carry-on. Yup, you're all packed. Only one last thing to do before you left for your flight.

Today, you're leaving for a week long trip for your job. You're leaving, and Todoroki's staying. As much as he would love to come with you, he has things to care of while you're gone. You're all packed, ready to head out the door, except for the last -most important- thing you have to do before you leave.

You leave your bags at the front door, opting to search for the boy in question. You find him sitting at the edge of your bed, scrolling through his laptop. "Sho, I'm ready to go, wanna start?"

He looks up, smiling at you and setting his laptop to the side, meeting you at the bedroom door in a few quick strides. "Yeah," he leans down giving you a quick kiss on the lips, "go ahead to the living room, I'll get the supplies."

You follow his instructions, sitting down and making yourself comfortable as you wait for him to get the items needed to draw your blood. Usually, Shoto feeds from you, but since he can't go with you, plus you're going to be gone for a week, you made the decision on him drawing blood from you to keep him fed while you're gone.

He comes into the living room, sets everything down on the table, and turns to you. He offers you his hand, a sign to give him your arm. When you do, he pauses. "You should probably lie down." You do, keeping your arm outstretched to him and relaxing on the couch. "Let me know if it hurts too much."

He goes the full nine yards, wrapping a tie around your arm, rubbing his finger over the spot he picked to make sure the blood is pumping. He does it all. He gives you one last look, needle in hand, before sticking you with it, watching your blood filter from your body, into the bag next to you.

"You sure that'll be enough?" you ask, noticing he only has two blood bags.

"Yes, Love. I'll need to pace myself while your gone," he says gently, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek.

You smile, turning your head a bit to look at him. "I wish you were coming."

"I wish I was coming too. but it's ok, you'll be back in no time," he laughs slightly, "and I'll again get to drink from the sweet source." He leans over, playfully nudging his nose again your cheek, making you squirm and laugh for a moment before lays his hand on your stomach. "Don't move too much."

His tone says he doesn't want to waste any blood that might drip, but his eyes say he just doesn't want to accidentally hurt you, needle being in your arm and all, so you settle smiling at him and waiting to be done.

"Ok, one more, almost done," he says, pressing his thumb to stop the flow, changing the bag and securing it before hooking up a new one and letting it start filling again. "You're doing so well. Thank you for this." Shoto settles his hand into yours, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin.

"Of course, anything for you, Sho. Just don't get caught with blood bags in the fridge and medical supplies in the bathroom while I'm gone," you joke, earning and laugh from him.

About halfway through the second bag, Shoto notices your eyes starting to flutter shut. You're fighting unconsciousness. Shoto scoots closer, his hand instinctively going to your shoulder. "Y/n? Hey, Love, do you need me to stop?" He barely waits for an answer before his hands are creeping down to unhook everything.

"No, no, I'm ok," you sigh weakly, "want- want you to finish."

Todoorki bites his lips, looking down at the three-quarters-filled bag. 'Ok, ok. Almost done, almost done, baby," he says quickly.

The second the bag is filled he wastes no time unhooking the needles and stopping everything, checking over your whole body, listening to heart rate, and letting you lay on the couch as he cleans everything. This is the first time you had done this, and everyone reacts to getting blood drawn differently, so it's not even a thought as Shoto offers to instead drive you to the airport, wanting you to rest in the car ride, of course, giving you and a small bowl of cereal and juice to eat before heading on the road.

"Thanks again. You know it means a lot," he says, pulling up to the airport drop-off area. You'd slept the whole ride, getting enough strength to make it through security, to the gate, and on your plane, where you'll probably sleep the whole ride.

"Of course, Sho. No regrets," you smile. "Be safe while I'm gone."

He laughs and frowns. "That's my line."

You smile. “Yeah, guess it is.” You lean to him, giving him one last kiss goodbye. “Love you.”

“Love you, too”

--

Your trip went well, and you're happy to be coming back. You missed Todoroki and your home. The first two days, things seemed fine, he'd text you and call when possible, keeping you updated, after though, things got quieter until it was just plain silence.

You chose not to let yourself worry, burying yourself in the work you had to do while you were gone and not thinking about it, knowing he's fine, he's strong, and he'll be home when you get back. Judging by the text you got from him before you boarded the flight home, you knew the last few days must have only been paranoia and circumstances:

See you soon, Y/n.

You pull up to your home and get out, getting your bags and walking to the front door. There's something running through your veins. Partially excitement to see Shoto again, but also something else. Fear? Dread? You weren't sure, but whatever it is, it still pushes you on as you unlock the door and open it.

If it wasn’t fear that you felt before, you definitely felt it now. The house was dark, only light coming through the blinds lit it enough for you to see. And it’s cold, any colder you’d be able to see your own breath. Things are scattered everywhere, almost like someone went into a fit of anger and started throwing things.

You leave your bags on the floor, forgotten about as you step forward, Shoto’s name on the tip of your tongue, but dying in your mouth before the first syllable even comes out, a flash and small burst of cold air going past you, and then you feel arms circle you from the side, pulling you into a cold body.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you feel Shoto’s breath on your neck. You try to speak, try to move, but he’s strong, keeping you pinned against him, even at the weird angle.

His hand grasps your neck, tightening around it and keeping you still as he leans in. You feel panic start to rise in your bloodstream. What could’ve happened? He said you left enough blood, everything should have been fine. But you know this, you know the signs, you caught a quick enough glimpse of Shoto’s blown pupils. The way his usual eye colors are gone, you feel his tight grip in every move he makes. The look on his face tells it all.

This is Shoto’s bloodlust.

He’s only been in bloodlust twice before around you, but both of those times it wasn’t necessarily geared toward hunger, but now, you’re not sure what’ll happen. But you still hold on to the thought that Todoroki knows you, he loves you, and he isn't going to kill you. He’d rather go through all his life again and have to redo every moment again before he drained you of all the blood you need to live. You trust him.

Todoroki squeezed his hand around your neck, making your pulse jump once again as he drags you to his mouth, also leaning down all at the same time and opening his mouth.

There’s no second thought, no hesitation or regard, only the pain of the bite. The feeling of his fangs digging into your skin, eager and draining your blood. It’s fast, so fast you can almost feel the blood rushes out of you, a big change compared to how he usually does it, slow and steady, letting you savor the tranquil feeling like you usually do.

You can feel his arms wrapped firmly around your body, and for a second, he pulls away, but only so he can turn you, making your chest flush against his as he digs his fangs into your skin again.

This time, it only lasts about ten seconds before you feel your vision to go. Your body feeling heavy, and suddenly so much more tired than seconds ago. Your eyes flutter shut, and your legs go out, consciousness slipping from your grasp.

Todoroki feels your body going limp, and he secures his arm around you, keeping you against him as he continues to feed. He carries you to the bedroom, his mouth still attached, and he lays you on the bed, his body fully over yours as your blood begins seeping from his mouth, and he continues to feed.

Shoto loves you, he protects you, you trust him. Shoto would never kill you.

Masterlist

[storiesofsvu]

Solace in Solitude Ch 7

Eventual Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, nicotine and weed consumption, mentions of trauma/death, nightmares & anxiety. Yup!! She is back y'all!! Let's just say I got very bored of writing for bingo, things are not very Christmasey around here so I decided to try and finish this entire thing by New Year's. Now, i doubt that'll happen, but i'm still aiming for a chapter per day meaning 4-5 more chapters by NYE which honestly is just under what I have planned for this series. I wanted this one to be better, I can't lie, but in the new year we will move on to a new series and it will be wonderful! Happy Holidays!!

Emily kept her braids in until the next time her hair needed to be washed, if you had said anything she would say it was purely out of convenience and nothing else. But she knew that she actually liked it, she felt as if a new style was something that would help her move on to a new phase of life, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to braiding her slowly growing bangs into the braids and keeping them off her face. A new, different look was her way of leaning into Valerie, making herself more comfortable with the idea of everything and sticking around Paris while she waited for it to all come to an end.

She finally had enough energy to get out of the apartment, making it down the block to the corner store to pick up a few things. You’d been working later and longer hours, mentioning something about picking up a new research project in passing one day (that or you were hiding at the hospital, she wasn’t entirely sure). Thanks to that, things around the apartment had started to get a little on the lacking side when it came to chores. Emily didn’t mind, she spent most of the time in her room anyway and she could always get food delivered. But she did feel a bit bad if she wasn’t contributing at all, especially considering the last time she washed her hair you wordlessly braided it without her even having to ask.

So she’d began using her daily out of the house walks to not only get some more energy and strength back, but to pick up a few things for the apartment. Some days it was food, others coffee and she’d taken up the habit of replacing the flowers in the living room whenever they started to wilt. It was another small change in her routine that was helping her feel more human once again and she was finally starting to get comfortable being outside and not being completely on edge the entire time. She used the time to start upping her profiling skills again, the city streets of Paris the perfect place to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. She didn’t really care if she was correct with her hypothesises, it got her brain working again and she felt bad whenever she caught herself profiling you at home.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that you were getting more tired with each day that went by, mentally drained by living the life you hadn’t chosen. She knew that one all too well at this point. So she did her best to keep the apartment in order without overworking herself and keeping out of your way, which in the long run was benefitting her too.

Currently Emily was out on the balcony, her usual home for the time in the evenings when you overlapped and her second favourite place to people watch from. The sun had already began its decent, the sky painted with colours of teal and purple when she heard the door open and shut inside the apartment. Her eyes flicked to the cigarette in her hand, wondering if she should stub it out before you saw it but figured she was already ratted out by the scent wafting through the air, not to mention the half pack of butts in the ash tray. She took another drag of it, watching a family of three on the street below her, the girl in between her parents, a hand holding each of them as she skipped her way down the sidewalk and her lips curved up into a brief grin. The thought of setting out on a nice family adventure on a Friday night, her imagination took hold, ideas flowing through her brain about the multitude of places they could be headed.

She was broken out of the daydream by the sound of you quite literally kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag into your room. The tell tale sign of what she first thought was the fridge opening, the sound of ice cubes being dumped into a glass proving her wrong, that you’d gone for the freezer instead, the glug of the high end bourbon you’d stashed in the pantry flowing into her ears next. She thought the next sound would be the closing of your bedroom door as you disappeared for the night and nearly jumped when you stepped out onto the balcony beside her, swiping the back of cigarettes from the small table. It happened so fast she couldn’t even let out a noise of objection before you spoke, snagging the lit cigarette from practically between her lips.

“Give me that.” You muttered.

“I- hey!” She groaned, her brow furrowing when she looked up at you to find you using her smoke to light your own, the pack already back on the table.

Before she could fully process what was going on her cigarette was back between her fingers and you were dropping into the empty chair, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you sunk even deeper into it. She let silence overtake the balcony so you could use the time to decompress, shift from your doctor self into your home self and no doubt relax a little bit. She finished her smoke, stubbing it out in the ash tray not long after you’d lit yours. She debated going back inside but felt like her skin was still itching, desperate for more nicotine so without even glancing in your direction she picked up the pack, pulling the lighter from her pocket to light a second one while she prepared for the nagging she was about to receive. Instead you simply took another drag, shoulders sagging as smoke slipped from your lips into the cooling night air.

“Nothing, really?” She couldn’t help herself, nearly laughing as she pocketed the lighter, “I thought you of all people would be coming out here to lecture me about the dangers of smoking.”

You let out a scoff of a laugh, “it’s fucking France, everyone smokes.” Your eyes flicked down to the ash tray and your lips curved into a frown, “I won’t lecture you but you might wanna slow down on how many you have per day.”

“Not exactly like I have much else to do.”

“Yeah well, find a hobby or something.” You took another drag, “there’s a bakery two streets over with the best stuff in the city. You could make your walks longer.”

“Hmm.” Emily replied, the acknowledgement that she had been leaving the house and helping out was all either of you needed to discuss on the matter. You weren’t in the mood to be the rule maker right now, that was very clear.

Silence took over the balcony once more and as much as she didn’t mean to, Emily’s eyes flickered over to you, examining your body language, her profiler gears turning. You looked even more mentally tired than you had the last time she’d seen you, not that there were bags under your eyes, but the look of utmost defeat within them. You sunk down so deep into the chair, pulling your legs up into it, curling around yourself as if to protect yourself from the outside world. Your gaze lingered on the skyline, not daring to dart down to the street where people occasionally milled below and every drag of the cigarette between your fingers was long, deep, like someone who desperately needed a more intense vice they hadn’t indulged in in years.

“Rough day?” She finally asked, her voice soft, quiet enough you could ignore it if you wanted to.

“Yeah.” You replied, flicking the ash off your smoke while you glanced down, sighing heavily. “Lost a patient.” Emily watched as your staring contest with the sky ended and your eyes flitted through the street beneath you, “little girl, couldn’t have been more than eight. Came in ‘cause she fell off her bike, complaining of arm pain, admitting doctor said she was wearing a helmet and the initial exam was clear. She was alert, talkative, just the cutest fucking thing, reminded me a lot of my sister at that age. We figured it was a broken arm and were waiting for the x-ray line up to clear up to confirm.” You took a heavy breath, a long drag of your smoke and Emily knew the twist was coming, “turned out the Dad was lying to Mom about the helmet, he didn’t want to get in trouble for not enforcing the rules, thought it didn’t matter that the poor girl bonked her head. We didn’t catch the brain bleed in time…” You trailed off, your eyes glassy as they returned to the sky.

“I’m so sorry…” Emily whispered and you shook your head,

“A family doesn’t come back from that. Guilt’ll eat you alive, Mom’ll likely never forgive Dad, he’ll go insane trying to right a wrong he can’t fix.”

“Can only hope he takes it out on himself and not someone else.” She muttered, shaking her own head and she instantly felt your eyes on her.

“You see a lot of that in your line of work?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” She sighed, “something like today would be a stressor, it builds up higher and higher, fucks with your brain until you can’t take it anymore and it just sparks an explosion. He’s never gonna be able to look at another little girl on a bike again. He’ll see parents who let their kids ride without helmets as unfit, villains, could start lashing out towards them, likely verbally at first before a trigger hits. Could be divorce papers, could be the family ostracizing him, one month, six month, one year anniversary of her death, then he loses it…”

“Mmm.” In any other situation you would have been impressed by the way her brain worked, but right now all you were consumed by was grief, a weak laugh escaping through your lips as you should your head, “god we’re depressing.”

“At least you don’t have to sleep during the day.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.

“We can adjust your meds again.” You replied before you glanced down to your smoke, your head titling before you looked up at Emily, “though there is something else we haven’t tried…. I mean, we’re already smoking.”

It took a moment for the realization to wash over her, her eyes widening when she realized what you were talking about, “is that legal here?” She whipped her phone out, hastily typing before she nearly shot you a glare, “no! It is not.”

“Oh don’t be a fucking narc,” you rolled your eyes, your voice quieting to not be overheard, “you’re not a fucking fed right now, and it’s fine if it’s medical.”

“That’s gotta be some kind of illegal abuse of your medical licence.”

“Yeah well… I wasn’t the one who shot some guy’s ear off for a threat.” You deadpanned and Emily choked on her words, grimacing as she settled back in her chair instead of trying to stop you as you stood, “a couple of puffs now, we’ll eat a late dinner, finish the joint and go to bed. If it helps you sleep, I’ll get you a prescription.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, willing to try anything at this point to get her back to a normal schedule, knowing that one day she was going to have to work through the day and sleep through the night again. She couldn’t keep this up forever.

*

You’d been the first to tap out, the exhaustion of a full work day on top of the glass of bourbon and weed, once your stomach was full, you were down for the count, saying goodnight and quickly heading to your bedroom. Emily felt fine, a little cloudy but relaxed, comforted almost and she knew it was probably not the greatest idea but she sipped on a glass of wine after you went to bed, feeling the night sink into the city. She thought nothing of it as she went through her normal nighttime routine, even though it was hours earlier, her eyes were drooping, it was at least time for a nap. She locked the balcony door behind her, washed the couple of dishes in the sink, filled up a glass of water and made sure the alarm was set. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and took whatever meds she normally did before bed and curled up under the blankets, letting out a soft sigh as she did so, sleep taking over much quicker than normal.

The major conflict being that Emily’s body was used to the new sleep schedule she’d implemented, the one that started at dawn and went ‘til dusk. Meaning it had been roughly twelve hours, not twenty four since she’d last taken her meds and even with the added weed, she’d only been awake four hours by the time you got home, there was no way it was actually bedtime for her. She could practically feel herself tossing and turning, her mind racing as images began to plague her dreams.

Though this time it wasn’t just Ian, they were at the villa, there was a weird haze over the entire thing but she was playing with Declan, wide smile on her face as he laughed while she chased him around. At first she looked like Lauren; Declan was as small as she remembered until Ian showed up and a darkness enveloped the room. She could feel her heart pounding, a gasp escaping her lips as she frantically looked around for the boy who was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Unlike the last nightmare this time it was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching the entire thing like it was a movie. She watched the fear spread across her own face as her hair darkened, became straighter, bruises started to purple up on her skin as Ian laughed at her.

“You’ll never find him. You’ll never be able to protect him.” He jeered, “he’s my boy after all. You gave up that chance, didn’t you?”

Blood started to stain her shirt, forming a circle on her lower abdomen before she let out a groan, hands shooting to the wound, trying to hold it together as red streaks began to drip down her clothing. She couldn’t help but collapse to her knees, choking on her own breath as she tried to speak, desperate to find the boy before he did.

“Declan….” She cried out.

Instead of his perfect blue eyes popping up from behind the couch, Ian’s hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her face up to his.

“He is my son.” He spat, “and nothing, not even you, will keep me from him.”

“Please!”

“Em!” A voice rang out, a hand closed around her shoulder and she could see it, the bodyless limb in her nightmare as she continued to sob. She felt like she was going to throw up, “Emily!” It repeated, this time louder, “hey! Wake up!” Her vision began to spin, blurring as the scene in front of her slowly vanished and suddenly she was jolted into her Parisian bedroom, the nightstand light on, casting a glow though the room and she realized it was your voice that was soothing her. “Hey… I’m here.. it’s okay.” You assured her, watching the way she slowly blinked to life, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room and she instantly shot up, shuffling back on the bed as if she was about to be hit.

“I-“ she struggled to find the words, her eyes flicking from each spot of the room that was a little too dark for comfort to the window, making sure it was shut before she felt your hand on hers, your thumb soothing across the back of it.

“You’re okay.” You repeated, “he doesn’t know where you are. You’re safe, I promise.”

She took a moment, calming her heavy breaths, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as she fought against every instinct in her to run out of the room right then. Grounding herself by the warmth of your hand on hers, the weight of your body next to her on the bed, knowing that this was reality, not the scene in her head moments prior. Once you could tell she was back on earth your free hand reached out to the nightstand, flicking through her pill bottles until you found the anti anxiety, twisting it open to hand her one.

“Here.” She took it from you, popping it under her tongue and waiting for it to dissolve. “You’ll feel better in a bit, get some rest.” You began to shift from the bed, knowing how much she hated when you even attempted to coddle her and she let out an uncharacteristic whimper, her hand instantly tightening in yours.

“Wait!” You were halfway standing when you turned back to her, frowning at the tears blurring in her eyes, “stay… please? Just for now.”

“Okay.” You shot her a weak smile, shifting back onto the bed, your heart sinking at the way the tears were still leaking over her cheeks, the way her body would occasionally shake in fear. Whatever tonight’s nightmare had been about was clearly affecting her more than the last one. You adjusted the blankets, making sure they were wrapped around her, and covering you enough you wouldn’t get cold and you were taken aback at the way she nearly collapsed against you, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from slipping back into another nightmare. “Hey…” you squeezed at her softly, “talk to me… please.”

“Thought you weren’t a shrink.” She bit back and you let out a huff.

“I know the basics, and you need to talk. You need someone right now and I’m the one that’s here, so let me be what you need, even if you hate it.” You felt the vibration of her grumble against you, your free hand soothing up and down her back, “wanna maybe start with who Declan is?”

Emily tensed in your arms, unaware that you’d heard that much, wondering just how much she was willing to share tonight before she let out a shuddering breath, “Doyle’s son.”

“Just… his…?” You asked cautiously and she let out another wavery huff.

“Yes.” Her hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear, “my job was to seduce him, but I mean, I was careful. I even slept with him and I don’t do that.”

“Well even I know sleeping with an international terrorist isn’t likely a good idea.” You muttered back.

“I meant men.” She replied and you almost stiffened beside her.

“Oh…”

Silence filled the room once again as she continued to try to calm her thudding heart, the medicine you’d given her slowly coursing through her veins.

“My job was to keep Declan safe, even afterwards. That’s why I moved to D.C, not because of the BAU, but because it was close to him. I thought I was safe for so long after Doyle was arrested, that things were fine, that he’d never find us again but I was wrong. If he managed to break out of prison, find me and completely destroy me… again… what’s stopping him now?” She took a shuddering breath and your arms tightened around her.

“He thinks you’re dead.” You whispered softly, “even if he hacks into Boston hospital records, that’s what he’ll find.”

“I just want to feel safe.” She sniffled again and you held back the instinct to wipe the new tear away, not wanting to end this chapter of her feeling comfortable talking to you, feeling vulnerable with you. “I knew he wanted to kill me, that he wanted me dead and I had the upper hand and didn’t take it. I died.  I actually died in the ambulance and all I felt was… cold.. and darkness… that can’t be it.” Her hand clutched at your shirt again, “that can’t be the end…”

“It wasn’t.” You assured her softy, your hand slowly rubbing up and down her back, “and it won’t be. You deserve so much more than that, okay?”

“I just want to forget him.”

“I know.”

________________

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[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins: Neon

A Sequel to Avenue of Sins

SUMMARY: ‘90s. It’s the aftermath. Jaded, Bill and Alma navigate their new lives as they try to drag themselves out of the dark debaucherous trenches they had once ensnared themselves in. It’s easy to forget their evils when a silver lining introduces itself into their lives but can they create a less hedonistic life that would be just as satisfying?

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

Author's note: Again, thank you all so much for reading! This is the conclusion of AOS. It's another long chapter to enjoy. I plan to have one shot posted soon that'll show some parts I was unable to fit within the main story. Thanks again. Lots of love x

Epilogue

Summer 1994

Ulyssa was back in Seattle for the summer after being away in New York for school. She was sitting on top of the cash wrap counter at Sheisty Sound Records, finger-weaving a friendship bracelet on pink dye-stained digits for Ash, who was pricing CDs next to her. 

“Who’s playing on the speakers?” A young man asked out loud. 

The women both turned towards him. He was a wiry, nerdy-looking guy, holding onto an easy-listening record. They informed him of the band playing in unison and giggled. 

“They’re playing here in two months,” Ulyssa informed with a polite smile. 

"Sold out show," Ash winked at him, pressing the trigger of the pricing gun pointed at him.

The door chimes sounded, and in came Alma, looking a bit flustered, but she put on a smile for them when they greeted her. She was in a tight cap-sleeve shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans cinched with a black designer belt. 

“Hey!” She said, approaching them after swerving around a customer. “Your hair looks so good, ‘Lys!” She complimented her pink shaggy pixie cut.

“Doesn’t it!” Ash said in agreement.

“E’ is going to be so obsessed when she sees it! Uhm,” Alma placed her hands on her hips and took on a more serious tone. “Did the light fixture guy come by with a delivery this morning?” 

Sheisty Sound had been going through various repairs and upgrades since the beginning of the year under the new ownership. Once Lewis gave Bill the keys a week before he and his family left for New York for the holidays, they began drawing up a timeline. 

~~~

It was a chilly, drizzly day in November when Bill met Lewis on a Sunday after hours. He had his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket and pulled the fabric tighter against his body while he walked to the store. He showed up alone, of course. Alma and the baby stayed home, waiting anxiously for him. It was a big day for them, but as far as they knew, Lewis still hadn’t any idea his employee was in a relationship with the gentleman purchaser from New York.

Bill knocked on the store door, but through the glass, he saw Lewis seemingly doing one last private walk-through of his beloved record shop. Once Lewis unlocked the door for Bill, they greeted each other with a handshake and began congratulating and thanking each other. Walking through the shop together, Lewis asked what his plans were for the shop now that he had full reign. Of course, Bill and Alma wanted to upgrade areas of the shop and venue and add little personal touches without losing the charm of the place the locals loved so much. 

“I’ll have to pay a visit once things are settled,” Lewis said while they stood in the office. 

“For sure,” Bill nodded. “We would love that.” Bill noticed a slight shift in Lewis when he uttered the plural, ‘we’. “Um, so after today, Cancun?” He quickly asked to cover his mistake.

“Yup. My wife Helen and I fly there in a week. The whole family will be there for the holidays this year.” He smiled. “And you?” 

“I’m going to New York, where it won’t be as warm.” Bill chuckled. 

“With your family?” 

“Mhmm. My partner and daughter.” He adjusted the brim of his black baseball cap, feeling a little awkward. 

“You know,” Lewis paused and crossed his wrists behind his back. “I have an employee here who is going to New York for the holidays too.” 

“Uh huh,” Bill licked his lips. He wanted to smirk, having realized they were caught, but he refrained. “And she has a kid about my daughter's age too?” He said for Lewis before he could disingenuously question. Lewis stood there, looking up at him for an explanation. “We should have told you.” 

“Well isn’t that something… I wasn’t too happy to learn about it, frankly. I was rather upset about being deceived.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He said just to placate him, he was hardly sorry at all. “How long have you known?” 

“Since Darby’s wedding.” 

Bill tilted his head, surprised by that. Lewis had known for months and held on to the fact until now. 

“Were we obvious?” 

“No. I’m a bit impressed by your acting.” He had to admit. 

“Could I ask how, then?” 

Lewis sighed. “As I left the wedding, I ran into Gregory in the parking lot. I think he was getting stoned in his van, but he mentioned your coupling in conversation. I guess by accident?”

He knew it would be someone from the record shop who would blow their cover, but he never suspected it would be Gregory. He kept to himself so much that Bill could hardly read him. Even Alma couldn’t pin him down at times. What Bill could sometimes sense was that Gregory didn't care for him at all. Ulyssa let it slip that he was a strip club owner, and he felt validated in his suspicions about him. Whether he told by accident or meant to sabotage was still surprising. 

“I see.” Bill leaned on the office door frame, crossing his arms. “We should have been upfront. We felt that it would have been a conflict of interest, you know. And I really wanted this to go through.” 

“It almost didn’t,” Lewis revealed. “I told you I was upset. My wife and I went home, and she had to hear me gripe about it. I was so close to calling Sam Goody and letting them have at this place, but my wife talked some sense into me.” 

Helen could tell Lewis was more upset at the thought of being officially detached from the family record store. It was hard to hand over, and the deceit began to make him second guess. She couldn't have that; she was so close to her dream retirement. Besides, business was business at the end of the day. It just so happened that the handsome buyer from New York knew when to hold and play his hand better than most. 

“It was Sam Goody that I was up against?” Bill chuckled in disbelief. 

“It was! But they wouldn’t have honored anything I’ve said. Unlike you?” He raised a skeptical brow at Bill.

“I’m not firing anyone.” He assured.

“Not even Gregory?” Lewis chuckled. 

“Nah,” he chuckled. “He’s getting a dollar raise along with everyone else. Darby is staying as the general manager and will be on salary at the start of the year.” 

When he and Darby went on their lunch meeting at a country club his family was members of, Bill laid out his plans for his role at the store. They negotiated a bit about his yearly salary, but once everything was square between them, they ended up enjoying an evening out. A late one they didn’t expect to have, which caused both their respective partners to be a bit upset because neither could get a hold of either of them. Alma wouldn’t have been upset, but it was the fact that Darby’s wife called her worried and made it a problem. It was as if they were two boys, and Darby was out with the bad kid. The men arrived at their respective dwellings, three sheets to the wind, via cab. 

“Oh! Good deal,” said Lewis. “Well, looks like you know what you're doing. I mean, I kinda figured that myself over our email correspondences. But it’s good you have Alma. You know, when she had the baby, she took off for a bit but promised to return. She kept my books in order better than Darby, and I was close to making him visit her to make sure she would come back, but luckily she turned up on her own. So—you two meet in New York?” 

Bill scratched the back of his neck. “No, we’ve known each other for a long time now.” 

“Ah, yeah. She’s definitely someone you’d want to keep by your side for sure. Smart.”

Lewis passed a large ring of labeled keys to Bill, and they shook hands, completing their deal. They promised to keep in touch, and now Bill was alone inside the record shop he now owned. He called Alma from the store telephone he now owned, and now she was on her way to meet him. He was busy matching keys to locks around the place when she walked in with Echo through the front door, which he didn’t bother to lock. Both of them came in happily, skipping towards him, together in their family business.

~~~

“Yeah, I told the guy to put them backstage,” Ash informed Alma. She had been such a good asset to her since they switched roles, always on top of things, and very organized, which Alma appreciated. 

“Oh good, thanks.” The door chimes sounded once again, which caused Alma to turn her head towards it. 

Ulyssa noticed Alma glare at Bill when he entered, and he gave it right back to her. Scowling under his brow, displeased. 

“Uhm, I’m going to go check on that,” she quickly said and began walking away even quicker. 

Bill promptly greeted the employees as politely as he could, but he still looked tense. He was dressed in a long-sleeved black tee and well-fitting jeans, but this summer he was sporting a buzz cut. It was late at night when he did it impulsively, bored and stoned in the apartment, while Alma was out with friends. 

He hadn’t established a proper barber in Seattle yet and just got rid of it. He was lying in bed in the dark when she arrived, undressing and speaking to him, completely unaware. It wasn’t until she was out of the shower she climbed into bed with him, leaning over for a kiss, that she paused. In the dark, she could sense something wasn’t right with him. 

“What happened?” 

“What?” 

She startled him slightly when she swiftly climbed over and straddled him to turn his bedside lamp on. She gasped when she saw what he had done. 

“It’s hair. It’ll grow out.” He said, feeling a little embarrassed about it now that his high was gone. Alma ran her hands through the short hair, which Bill thought felt quite nice, and smiled. 

“I don’t hate it.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his shorn head. 

Ulyssa watched Bill briskly catch up to Alma weaving between record tables, but she shrugged him off when he grabbed her arm. 

“What the fuck A’? I wasn’t done talking to you.” Bill could be overheard saying to her. He hooked his finger in one of her belt loops to keep her from straying away.

“I was fucking done. I told you. I told you I paid for the delivery already. You can’t just write checks out like it’s nothing without me knowing. Now I have to—” 

That was all that Ulyssa was able to overhear as they walked away to the stage area. 

“What’s up?” Ash asked her, noticing her worry. 

“Oh,” Ulyssa lightly shrugged. “They’ve been arguing a lot,” she grimaced. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Ash said, unbothered as she dismissively waved her hand. “But like, you know it’s not for real, right?” 

“What do you mean?” Ulyssa asked, noticing a coy look on Ash’s face. 

“It’s like foreplay for them.” Ash laughed when Ulyssa got red in the face. “You know they’re some freaks!” 

“Oh yeah, these are nice,” Bill said, crouched down backstage looking through the boxes, poking at the contents with the tip of a pocket knife to make sure nothing was broken during transit. “These are better than what we have at the club.” 

“And apparently, they don’t get as hot as the stage lights we have now,” Alma informed.

They had been following the timeline they had written and were still on schedule. Luckily, part of the deal Bill made with Lewis involved having the roof fixed on his part before everything became official. A big project they were able to avoid.

So they started with the next dire situation. The bathrooms. It was on top of their list, underlined multiple times. They were gutted first thing, as they looked and smelled like the embodiment of hell. Bill and Alma knew it wouldn’t be realistic, believing they wouldn’t be defaced at all, so once they were back open for business, the record crew had a graffiti party. Tagging the newly painted walls with magic markers and drippy paint pens. Matt happily took the opportunity to draw the first dick in the men’s stall. 

So far after that, the stage had been reinforced, the threat of possibly caving in was gone, and the old dusty, cigarette-smelling stage curtain had been replaced. Once the new light fixtures were up, they could finally transition to fixing the main shop by giving it a few tweaks here and there. First with the office until they could finally focus on the outside. Adding a large neon theater-style marquee.

Bill straightened up. “Before you slammed the fucking car door in my face,” he smirked. “I was trying to tell you that the realtor called.” 

“About the house? Is everything fine?” She said worried. 

“Yeah. He called to tell me we can pick up the keys tomorrow.” He let out a strained groan, caught off guard when she jumped into his arms excitedly, but then he smiled.

…

Closer to the beginning of the year, Bill was alone in the apartment when the realtor unexpectedly called. He was packing for a short visit to New York but had taken a break to check his email. There wasn’t anything in his inbox to note except a stupid chain email from Giancarlo. He had replied to him: Don’t send me this shit.

He got up to grab a pickle spear from a jar in the fridge and began walking back to the room to resume his packing when the phone rang. He groaned and rolled his eyes as he turned his tracks to answer. 

“Mm,” he said, still chewing. “Hello?” 

“Mr. Skarsgård?” 

“Mhmm.” He swallowed. 

“Hey, it’s Chase.” 

“Oh,” he cleared his throat. “Hey.”

“I was hoping you and Miss Lucio wouldn’t happen to be busy today. I’m at a showing, but my client rescheduled. However, if you’ve got the time, I’m happy to show you all this home. It’s a bit out of the city, though. I know Miss Lucio wanted to remain within city limits, but…”

“How far is it?” 

“About a thirty, forty-minute drive from the city.” Without traffic, he finished in his head. “I really think you should take a look.” 

Bill quickly pulled a charcoal hoodie over the white tank he wore and left the loose-fitting pants he had on. After tying his Vans shoes, he was out the door and in the Jeep, taking another glance at the address he had written down and the directions Chase had given him. 

He decided to see the home on his own. Alma had taken Echo to the record shop that day, and with the property being out of the way, he wanted to check if it was even worth bringing them along later. It felt that they had seen so many houses at this point that the search just started to feel more like a job rather than a pleasant daydream. It was taking much too long to move out of the small, cramped apartment they were living in. After Bill found a note on the front door complaining about the noise from their unit, the itch to leave worsened.

As he left the city, the landscape became veridian and dense with tall mossy trees. He turned on a winding road, and he could see homes through the breaks the long driveways provided. They were rather large homes, but they all seemed to look newly built and felt too boring. Bill and Alma wanted something with some history, with leftover character they could build on. 

He slowed down to check the address and search for the road he was told to turn left at, and saw it just ahead. Just a bit later, he arrived, taking the long driveway and parking right underneath a breezeway connecting the four-car garage and the house. The style of it looked different from the home; it was an addition. The home stood tall and wide. He took note of the large windows and the surrounding acreage. There were neighbors on this road, but the tree cover fencing the property provided privacy that you couldn’t get in intercity Seattle. 

He put his black cap on, exited the Jeep, and looked at the foundational brick skirting of the home as he walked down the length of the driveway and continued up the top of the arching drive to meet Chase at the front door. He had on his megawatt smile when he shook Bill’s hand. 

“Hope it wasn’t too hard to find.” 

“Nah,” Bill said, looking at the home while anxiously jingling the car keys in the palm of his half-fisted hand. “This is quite big. How many rooms are there?” 

“Just come on and look for yourself.” He said, nudging his head for him to follow.

After going through the vestibule, it opened up to the living room. It had large, vaulted ceilings with tall windows, and a fireplace, and there was a mezzanine with a library at the top. Chase was grateful that his client looked genuinely surprised as his eyes scanned the room. He quickly learned he couldn’t help his clients settle on a property, in fact, they were a bit dismissive when he tried. He found Bill and his partner quite picky. Always bickering about the most inane aspects. Sometimes they even offended him because some things they hated he secretly loved. 

“And Miss Lucio?” Chase inquired. 

His eyes flicked down at him. “At work,” he sighed. “I just came to see if it was worth dragging her out here for.” He said honestly, maybe too honest for Chase. “She really does want to live in the city—but.” 

“You know what? Why don’t you have a look around yourself? I’ll be in the den if you have questions about anything.” 

“There’s a den too?” Bill asked intrigued. 

Bill took a look around and was pleased with what he was seeing. It was hitting all the needs and wants he felt Alma had, too. It had five bedrooms and the appropriate amount of bathrooms. The dining room was stereotypical, but it was nothing to complain about. The large kitchen, with an island and breakfast nook, impressed him. He was in the primary bedroom, checking out the hardwood floors and the large walk-in closet, when he noticed a narrow entryway tucked in a corner. At first, he assumed it to be a randomly placed powder room, but as he turned the rounded corner, he discovered a small sitting area. Windows were facing the backyard, and there was a small metal fireplace right out of the 70s. Bill found it a bit bizarre and out of place but fascinating at the same time. 

In the room, there was a narrow, encased staircase leading down, and he discovered the den where Chase was sitting with crossed legs reading an old issue of Vogue on a couch. 

“I see you found the private sitting area!” He stood up, smoothing his salmon-colored button-down. “You could always make it into an office too.” 

“Right. Pretty cool thing to find.” Bill glanced out the window to the backyard and noticed the large porch and the stone walkway to the garden. 

“Check this out, though.” Chase walked over to a tall, standing bookshelf and slid it back into place, acting as a secret door to the room above. 

“Oh, sick!” 

“Right! Have you checked out the basement yet? It’s been redone by the previous owners. It’s like having an apartment below you.” 

“Yeah. That’s really nice too.” Bill said, turning towards him. “Why are the owners selling this place?” He wondered. 

“The gentleman of the home is relocating for work. He works in oil and gas. And no, no one has died here either.” He said because some way or another either he or Alma would jokingly ask. While it was a valid question, Chase found their gallows humor a bit tasteless. “The house was built in ‘68. There’s a really great Montessori preschool opening in town, and there’s a grocery store ten minutes away.” 

Bill nodded. “Uhm. How long are you here for?” 

“You’re my last showing here. I have another one to go to.” 

“Could you do me a favor?” He asked, smiling at the man, knowing he’d get his way from him. 

…

Alma was surprised to see Bill suddenly enter the office, jiggling the car keys again, while she was on a call. It wasn’t time for her to get off the clock, so to speak. She didn’t have to punch her time card anymore and made her schedule, but she wasn’t expecting to see him for a couple of hours to get picked up.

Echo was asleep in her mother’s arms while she spoke on the phone while soothingly swiveling in the office chair. He gently picked their daughter up, and Alma smiled at him as she stretched her arm out. She pushed the sleeves of her oversized knit sweater up her forearms, which she wore over a long maxi dress and heeled boots.

When Alma finished her call, she found Bill sitting on the edge of the stage watching his daughter run around happily after rising in his arms. When she saw him at first, she could tell he was eager to tell her something but refrained, seeing she was busy. She worried that he had come to tell her he changed his flight and that he would be leaving earlier than expected. Bill scooped up Echo in his arms and closed the space far quicker to reach Alma. They kissed, and he took her hand, leading them out of the shop. 

“What’s going on, babe?”

“Chase called about a house.”

He could feel Alma taking several glances at him as he drove further and further away from Seattle. They had just driven over a truss bridge, and you could see a cascade of waterfalls further up the river. The area was gorgeous, almost out of a fairy tale, but Alma didn’t leave small country-suburban life in Missouri for another. Bill knew this. 

“Look. Just be open-minded. It’s not that far. You can see the city skyline from the second floor of the house.” 

“You’ve already been there?” 

“I wanted to make sure it wasn’t bullshit before bringing you out here.” 

Alma smiled, looking at him knowingly. “You like it.”

“Yeah, but,” he muttered, scratching his studded ear. “Only if you do.” 

They arrived, and Alma tilted her head back to take in the whole house. It was rather big but very pretty. It had Victorian elements, but it wasn’t so ornate but rather tastefully modernized. 

“It looks haunted.” She stated. 

Bill turned to her, with an annoyed glint in his eyes. “Well—then we fit right in.” 

Alma scoffed with amusement, and then he opened the door with the key he convinced Chase to leave with him. Only if Bill promised to leave it behind under a rock on the porch. He didn’t believe his clients to be potential squatters, but he found them unusual. The first time he met Alma, she wore a button on her jean jacket that read, EAT ME. However, with their budget, he was willing to just overlook their liberal personalities. 

When they entered, Alma bit her lip to keep her grin at bay; she was already excited by the living room.

“I’ll leave Echo with you,” he said, putting her down on her feet. “I gotta check some other stuff out, but just take a look.” 

“Well… okay.” She said, watching him stalk away, continuing to jiggle the car keys in his palm as he did. 

While the realtor was away, he was going to take advantage of taking a look at the working parts of the house that owners and realtors like to embellish to conceal how badly they were operating in reality. It would give Alma space to see the home without his opinions; he wanted her to make her own mind up. To genuinely fall in love with it and envision their family in it.

Alma and Echo walked hand in hand around the stage-furnished home, picturing what she would do to the spaces. She was already thinking of what color house paint she’d choose when going down the long driveway. She liked it the moment she saw it. However, she wasn’t going to let Bill have that satisfaction yet. 

After checking out a room, she could envision having an office. They were in the room that would more than likely be Echos’, and she was elated about all the room she’d have to herself. A Jack and Jill bathroom was adjoining a room of equal size, and she imagined this was where her siblings' nursery would belong.

Bill and Alma decided after their first year of ownership of the shop, they would try for another. When things would be less hectic, and they settled somewhere permanently. He finally asked in earnest the week between Christmas and New Year's one night snuggled warmly under a thick duvet in bed.

“Do you want another baby?” His hand drifted to her belly, resting above her womb. “Just tell me, and I’ll do it.” He said softly. 

“I want to give you another one.” She said, snuggling her body to become more flush against his. “I know… I know you’d want it to happen sooner, but we’re going to be so busy this coming year.” 

Bill sighed, but she was right. He wanted it now, but the timing couldn’t be less than ideal. “Okay,” he digressed. 

Alma put a hand on his high cheek when she turned her head to search his eyes. He looked disappointed yet understanding. 

“This time next year. We can try. I promise.” 

When she found the primary bedroom, her heart fluttered. This felt like the place. She could briefly see Bill in the backyard through the large windows that faced it. He was walking back from a small shed close to the edge of the tree line. In the distance was Seattle's skyline, and if it wasn’t for the rain clouds further out, she’d probably be able to see Mt. Rainier too. 

She was admiring the walk-in closet when she started hearing random toilet flushes throughout the house. While they walked through the house, the lights were intermittently flickering, he was checking the breaker box in the basement. Then she could hear the keys again and his footsteps falling on the hardwood herringbone-floor hallway. When the ensuite toilet was flushed, she met Bill in the bedroom. Echo was walking about it on her own. It made Bill smile. 

“It’s pretty. Do you like it because of all the windows?” She asked because he always enjoyed natural light; he felt it always made any space bigger. 

“Well, that's one reason.” 

“What were you doing in the shed out there?” She pointed.

“It’s not a shed. It’s a sauna.” 

“Really?” She said with surprise.

“Yeah. Do you like it?” 

“Hmm,” she turned to look out the window with her hands on her hips in thought. “Do you like it, Echo?” Hearing her name called, she approached her mother and hugged the side of her leg. “Do you want to live here?” 

“Just tell mommy you like it, E’.” Bill chuckled. The house was for her as well, but he didn’t want a major decision to ride on the preference of a two-year-old. 

“I like! I like it!” She squealed, making her parents laugh, but then she started running towards the walk-in closet.

“Wait, Echo,” Bill said, going after her.

“It’s just the closet.” 

“No! There are stairs in there. Hey, hey.” He caught up to her and took her hand while they stood in the private sitting area. 

“Whoa!” Alma said, surprised by the hidden discovery. 

Bill showed her how the stairs led to the den and the secret door, which hid the room. She looked rather impressed with it. It was a cool feature. A place only they knew about, and they liked sharing secrets. 

“So?” Bill asked impatiently. 

“It’s private, like you wanted. Lots of rooms. I love the laundry room in the basement,” and she really meant love. She was tired of taking trips to the laundromat. “The mezzanine library is cool. The kitchen—”

“The kitchen is fucking tight!” 

Alma giggled. “Yeah. Yeah! Let’s put in an offer. This is it!” 

“Thank fuck!” Bill said, relieved, pulling her in to kiss her. “Because I put in an offer before I left to come get you.” 

…

Bill was in New York on a three-day trip the day after they found their home. He made up some story about why he had to go, as they had only left just a few weeks ago for the holidays. It wasn’t a complete fib; he would be at Trigger Finger working, but he was there to personally pick up Alma’s engagement ring. 

While there on the holidays, he visited his jeweler, Kaan, sitting with him in his private body-guarded office looking at loose precious jewels together. 

“What about emeralds?” 

“Mm,” Kaan twisted his lip. “Emerald is pretty, yes. The stone, though. Too soft for engagement ring.” He spoke in his slightly broken English.

Bill sat stumped for a moment. He wanted something different to give her than a solitaire diamond ring. 

“Diamonds. Diamonds are what the ladies want.” Kaan said, but it didn’t seem to sway his particular client. “You want different. We can do a braided band.” He suggested. “We can do anything custom for the band. I have examples.” He said, using his stiff belly to push away from his desk and grab a portfolio book from a shelf. 

Bill flicked through for a bit as Kaan left him with a security guard to assist an apprentice. Everything he saw was gorgeous and admirable, but there wasn’t anything that spoke to him. Nothing that he could picture Alma with. Until he reached a random tab near the back of the portfolio, flicking the rest of the sheet-protected pages away just to feel like he actually looked through it all. He quickly closed it and pushed it away on the desk in frustration. However, right when he did so, a glimpse of an image caught his eye. He reached for the portfolio and searched for the photo he saw. 

“Anything?” Kaan asked, taking his jeweler's glasses off. 

“Something like this.” Bill tapped the photo.

“You and me.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Toi et moi. That’s the style. We do diamond, offset, pear shape. You like green. We do green sapphire. Emerald cut, that’s better. Tougher stone. I’ll show you what I have.” 

He had Giancarlo accompanying him when he went to pick it up, as they were going to have dinner at a rooftop restaurant for the good marks he’s been getting in school lately. They were chatting as they walked there.

“Maybe I could come to work at the record shop in the summer?” Giancarlo gathered the courage to ask. 

“Yeah. But maybe not this summer, maybe next summer. If your mom allows it. And I’m not going to ask her for you.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He grumbled as they entered the store.

Giancarlo had never been to a jewelry store like this before. He had to give up his navy Adidas track jacket to security, same with Bill handing off his coat before they were patted down to enter the owner's office. 

“Now run me your shoes too.” A guard pointed at Gian’s new Reebok sneakers. 

Gian’s eyes widened when he froze a bit until the guard began snickering. He had caught a whiff of his nervousness and poked at it. Bill chuckled at his young friend's trepidation and patted his shoulder reassuringly. 

“Watch out, he’s got a mean uppercut.” Bill winked. 

While Giancarlo continued to work out and had grown to 6ft now—which he liked to brag about having surpassed his big brother in height—he was a self-admitted lover, not a fighter. 

“I know Miss Alma loves you, but doesn’t it make you nervous to finally ask?” The young boy asked Bill while they sat and waited on the ring.

“To marry me? Eh, well, she kind of already knows.” He said, fiddling with his wristwatch.

“You asked her already?” Gian asked, surprised.

“Mm, sorta.” 

“Isn’t it bad luck to propose without a ring?” 

“Where’d you hear that from?” Bill glanced over at Gian when he didn’t respond right away. “Your mom?” He internally rolled his eyes. Bianca and her superstitions, he thought.

“I’ve actually heard that too,” a big security guard in the room said. 

Bill looked at him over his shoulder and frowned with annoyance, but the man just shrugged. 

“Sorry, for the waiting,” Kaan said, hobbling over to his desk. 

He opened the velvet jewelry box gracefully and gently placed it in front of Bill on the desk. It was shiny, polished, and perfect. The ring. Bill sat there with his hand on his chin, admiring it, picturing Alma wearing it, and then he became pleased with himself. 

“Fuckin’ shit, Mr. Skarsgård!” Gian exclaimed. “Two rocks!” 

…

Even after acquiring the keys, it still took a full month to officially move into their new home. They moved in all the basics, filling only the rooms that would be immediately occupied. It was Echo’s room that Alma fixed up completely. With cute fluffy pastel bedding and ballerina slipper pink painted walls speckled with flower motifs. She had space for all her toys, a play kitchen set, and a reading nook. To say she was elated would be an understatement. However, for the little girl in a big new home, she was hesitant to sleep alone.

It was a speech her father had given her about being brave while her mother hung up frames in the living room that she finally decided to give her bedroom a try. Bill and Alma fully expected her to come running to their room at some point in the night, but when they woke up without her in bed, they were shocked. Shocked them enough to immediately get out of bed to make sure she was still in hers. She was cozy with her stuffed animals lined on the foot of her bed as if she put them in charge to keep guard of her. What they didn’t know was that she did try. While their rooms were fairly close, the journey down the long, soft-lit hallway to her parents' room proved too daunting, so she ran back to the safety of her bed. 

It was a Sunday evening, and Echo had slept nearly a full week in her room. The parents were upstairs on the mezzanine, arranging their little library to accommodate a stereo system. Down below, Echo watched a movie, with popcorn unavoidably littered around the living area. Still, she sat content in her big girl underwear with her little legs crossed and wearing sunglasses, which she insisted upon.

Bill paused to make sure she was still fine and then sat on a cushioned bench, looking out the window and towards the skies. There were thick, dark clouds billowing into their little cove. 

“They keep asking to open every other gig,” she said, complaining of a local band as she wired a speaker she had between her legs. “Even for that hip-hop troupe when it’s not the vibe. I just can’t.” 

“Yeah, they suck. Their drummer is good, though.” 

“He is! He needs to ditch them.” Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning flickered, causing her to pause. 

“It’s storming tonight,” Bill playfully sang in a daunting tone with raised brows. 

The downpour was pelting down on the home, sideways, front ways, and back ways. Luckily, it seemed like the thunder and lightning had passed them by. Bill and Alma made sultry love that night while the rain cascaded down the windows, and the heavy rainfall lulled them to bed quickly after. 

A loud crash of glass and a piercing, blood-curdling shriek was heard through the house. Alma was in a sleepy stupor when Bill leaped up from his sleep and jumped over her lying body. She saw him running out of the room in his boxer briefs as she tried to find her short silk nightgown to cover her naked body. 

In seconds, she ran down the oddly chilly hallway to Echo’s room in a panic, as she could hear her frightful cries over the torrential rainstorm. A faint thought was in the back of her mind. Should she have brought the gun?

“Mama!” Echo screamed in terror.

“Do not come in here!” Bill commanded, and she stopped dead in her tracks at the threshold. “There’s glass all over the floor.” 

Alma’s eyes darted around the room, assessing what had happened the best she could with her poor eyesight. There was a big, beautiful tree just outside the window, but the high, erratic winds had caused a branch to snap and burst through the bedroom window. 

“Is she okay?!” Her barefoot rose to take a step forward but stopped when a flash of lightning illuminated the jagged shards of glass scattered along the floor. 

Bill's heart strained trying to assess the bleeding cut on Echo’s cheek. He was shielding Alma’s view of it, but the branch was still banging against the house, and the wind was blowing cold mist into the room. He had to do something about it. 

“Bill?! Is she okay?” Alma cried. 

“Stay there.” He said picking Echo up, and that was when Alma saw crimson covering the side of her face. Her eyes widened in horror, her heart racing so hard, seeing her little baby in such a state. “Check her. I have to find something to cover the window.” He said, passing their terrified child into Alma’s trembling arms. 

Alma, having experienced an accident involving her daughter, suddenly retreated into herself and pulled out the more focused and level-headed version of herself. She placed her hand on Echo’s head, trying to soothe her as she swiftly took her to the ensuite bathroom. She sat her on the large double sink counter, stripped her of her bloody nightgown, and left her in her underwear.

“It’s okay, baby,” Alma said, wetting down a washcloth and putting it to the cut on her daughter's beautiful face. “That was scary, huh?” She softly said. “You’re okay, though.” She blotted the blood and tears from her face and could see that the cut wasn’t as bad as it looked. 

The banging of a hammer down the corridor accompanied the sound of thunderclaps. Bill had run to the basement for slabs of broken-down moving boxes to temporarily cover the window. He’d deal with the repair first thing in the morning. 

When he joined them in the ensuite bathroom and saw Echo standing up on the sink counter and Alma pointing at her reflection.

“See. Just an ouchie.” She said, trying to settle her as she sniffled and hiccuped. 

Bill swallowed hard, seeing the collar of the child's nightgown covered in blood. The sight of it was grimly unsettling. He approached them and held Echo’s face in one hand to examine the cut on her cheek. It looked more like a clean, precise scrape now that she was cleaned up. Anger rose in his chest, seeing how close the rogue shard of glass came to her hazel eye. Alma could sense what he thought when she saw his nostrils flare and his lips going in a hard line. It was a scary close hit. Thankfully, the graze wouldn’t scar, it would just fade away.

“I’m calling someone in the morning to cut the tree down.” He kissed the top of his daughter's head, sealing the promise. “I’ll go make her a bottle.” 

Alma nodded, but as he walked away, she saw tracks of smeared blood on the white marble tile. She followed them and saw that they came from Bill’s bloody heel.

“You’re bleeding.” She announced flatly.

“Huh?” He turned his head towards her, perplexed, until he followed her gaze down to his bare feet. He huffed in annoyance. He never even felt it happen. 

“Sit down.” She instructed, passing along Echo and a band-aid.

He sat on the edge of the tub, holding onto his daughter as tightly as she did him. It was difficult to pull her away enough to apply the bandage to her face, especially because she would flinch when he got close. 

“It’s fine. You’re brave, remember?” Echo solemnly nodded and then allowed him to patch the cut. “I’m sorry that happened.” 

When Alma returned, he noticed her trembling hands when she passed the warm bottle of milk to their daughter. There was a bit of a faraway look in her eyes while he watched her wet down a clean washcloth to help mend his foot. He knew where her fears were taking her. They had been having trouble sleeping in their new home, too. It seemed like the change of environment was conjuring new terrors upon the old ones that plagued them at night. For a good while they came seldomly, however, they only lay dormant. 

“Just do it,” Bill said, seeing her hesitate with the rubbing alcohol. He sucked air between his teeth while she apologized. “Is it bad?” 

“Mm.” She bit her lip. “You nicked it pretty good.” 

He raised his ankle to rest on his knee to examine the inner side of his heel. “It’ll be fine.” He said, taking the bandage she was holding to stick it on. “Thanks, love.” 

“Yeah.” Alma nodded as she rose from the floor to put all the supplies away. Bill caught her free hand before she walked away and grabbed the wet washcloth to help her clean the smears of blood on her neck and chest, but when he tried to apply it to her delicate skin, she flinched. 

“I can do it,” she said, holding his hand back, making him frown. 

“Hey.” He said softly. “Wherever you are… Come back. Everything is okay. She’s okay.” He nudged his head down at their child. “It’s only us, here.” 

Alma took a deep, shaky breath and then allowed him to help as she stared off. She didn’t speak for the rest of the night. They cuddled their daughter extra tight in their bed that night. 

The next day, Alma seemed back to normal spirits. She woke up and began scrubbing the blood from the bath and hallway with peroxide before carefully sweeping up the shards of glass. Bill called a window repairman and Zeph, who owned a small landscaping business when he wasn’t moonlighting as a security guard. 

Bill had nixed the illegal bar, stating he didn’t want to run into issues so early into his ownership, so instead he spoke to The Wayward Sons and asked if they’d stay on as security. Big Rod agreed as long as they were reimbursed for securing licenses. He didn’t have a problem with doing so, and they shook hands.  

Zeph came straight away, but the window repairman Bill had to bribe to start his services at his home first thing, as the storm had damaged quite a few homes in the area. So he learned. Alma gathered all the bedding, she shook off and piled in the hall to drop them in the laundry chute on the way to check on her daughter from atop the mezzanine. Alma looked out the library window and saw Bill outside, one arm across his chest and the other holding a cigarette as he watched one of Zeph’s workers rev up a long pole saw. 

The noise startled Echo, where she occupied herself with toys in a playpen. She might have been okay without being in it, but it was a big home, and after last night they didn’t need any more incidents. 

“I’m right here, baby,” Alma said, walking the long landing and descending the stairs. “Do you want to watch the men working? Daddy is outside too.” 

“Papa,” Echo said happily. 

Bill and Zeph were speaking and pointing at the overgrown shrubs in the archway garden when they approached. They had the same stature, but Zeph was double Bill’s width. 

“So sorry about what happened last night,” said Zeph after greeting Alma with a fist bump. “Glad to see little E’ is doing okay, though.”

“Thanks for coming straight away,” Alma said appreciatively. “I hope all was well in your home last night.” She knew he had children of his own as well.

“By god it was, ma’am. Thank you.” And off Zeph went to join his workers. 

The family stood watching the tree slowly being dismantled piece by piece. Alma had tried to convince Bill to just have a few precarious branches trimmed off, but he didn’t want to hear it. His only reply to her was, “Fuck that tree.”

Bill was holding Echo and gently kissed her injured cheek. “Say bye-bye tree!” He told her as he waved at it. 

“Bye-bye tree!” She giggled, flapping her little hand. 

…

After that eventful night in their home, things settled again. They were surprised that Echo only slept in their bed just one more night—mostly at their behest—and then decided on her own to sleep in her bedroom again like the brave little girl she was. Two weekends later, they arranged for her to stay the weekend with ‘Lani, the babysitter. Echo had been missing her. Yolani had been busy at her nursing residency but had finally gotten the time to spend with Echo, whom she also missed. When they dropped her off, Echo quickly kicked off her shoes and hardly said goodbye to either of her parents. She didn’t even care when they mentioned they had brought ice cream and sundae toppings for them to enjoy, but she made sure they left it behind. 

They arrived home with a bag of a few missing ingredients needed to make a romantic dinner in, but they were dismissed by the doorway along with their clothes. 

He had Alma bent over their king-sized bed while he vigorously thrust into her from behind. They had started in the living room, his head buried between her legs, but when Alma was close to orgasming, he stopped and led them to the den. While in the den, she sucked him off before he finally dipped himself inside her, mostly still while they tongue kissed. He gave her some long, slow, deep thrusts, but then he did the same, much to her frustration, and led her to the private sitting area. She rode him sensually on the loveseat, grinding down on him while he needily sucked on her tits. She was close to a climax finally when he abruptly pulled her up and held her tightly. The sudden disconnection made her gasp in surprise. 

“The fuck?” She was exasperated, her heart beating hard in her chest. 

He looked at her deviously, giving no explanation, and instead led her to their bedroom, where he had her now. Thrusting deep inside her without mercy. She was so close again. Moaning loudly with hands gripping the expensive bedsheets. As her hand went to her clit to help him usher in the orgasm she was desperately seeking, Bill grabbed her hand and pinned it behind her back instead. 

“Oh, fuck!” She said, finding the restraint so seductive, she offered her other hand. 

Bill held on to her wrists with one hand as he continued to plow into her from behind, and he grunted deeply, getting lost in it. She was dripping and so tight and warm around his cock. His eyes fluttered closed, almost succumbing to the feeling, until he miraculously came to his senses. 

“Are you gonna cum,” he asked, peering down at her from where he stood. 

“Fuck yes!” She groaned into the mattress. “Make me cum, baby. Please!” 

Bill swallowed hard as his heart pounded in his chest and his dick, but he willed himself to cease his thrusts.

“No! No, what!?” Alma turned to look at him, where he stood with a sheen of sweat covering his body as he held his hard, engorged cock flat against his muscled stomach while he breathed shallowly. “Babe, you look like you’re going to bust. What are you doing?”

“No, no.” He raggedly breathed. “Later.” 

“Later? I was so—we were so close?” She tried to reach out to him, but he rebuffed it. 

“You’re gonna cum when I want you to,” he said, holding her face with one hand, effectively puckering her lips, which he kissed. “We’re gonna start dinner.” He announced going to the closet and pulling on some silk onyx boxers. “Just wear this.” He said, passing Alma her short black silk kimono. She stayed there a moment after he left the room, dumbfounded, but so incredibly hot for his domineering attitude. 

In the kitchen, Alma was incorporating seasonings together for a dressing for the chopped salad, while Bill prepared the branzino they had bought from Pike’s Market the day before. While music played lightly, they were speaking about incoming deliveries to both the house and the shop, and other little decorative odds and ends they wanted to do with the house. However, in the back of their minds was the ache in their loins nagging at them, which they ignored. Their hunger from their empty bellies was taking over, but the signals were continually crossing.

Bill put the salad away in the fridge and foil-wrapped the herb-covered fish and asparagus when Alma brought paint swatches from the office. They were nearly in agreement with how they wanted to paint the exterior. Their room was recently painted a sun-dried tomato red, and they could finally move on from that.

“Why don’t we do this black for the trim?” He pointed at the pitch-black swatch as he stood behind her looking at samples she laid on the kitchen island. 

When Chase, the Realtor, dropped in some weeks ago to see how the family was settling in, Bill revealed the swatches of potential house paint. All dark, nearly black hues. Chase put a hand to his lips to conceal the ghastly gasp from escaping past his lips, but Bill noticed, and he lightly chuckled at him.

“Mhmm.” Alma licked her lips. They were standing so close again that the sexual tension was reverberating between them. “And uhm, this black for the rest has some green undertones to it, so it’ll contrast. Do you still like—” Her words caught in her throat when she felt his long fingers curl into her. Her eyes rolled back as he gripped her with his arm, pinning her flush against his chest. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” he moaned into her neck as he peppered it with hard-pressed kisses. “You’re still so fucking wet.” She whimpered in pleasure as his fingers felt the inside of her warmth. “You want to cum so badly, don’t you?” 

“Don’t you want to fuck your cum into me already?” She said, taking hold of his cock as blood rushed to it, the cool silk fabric did nothing to restrain it and felt hot in her palm.

Bill mockingly chuckled at her attempt to tease him enough to get her way. He abruptly removed his fingers from inside her and then smacked her hand away from his cock. He washed his hands with a smug smirk on his face. 

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Alma sneered. 

Bill just laughed at her attitude as she walked away to gather some things upstairs. 

“If you’re not back in less than ten minutes, I know what you’re doing up there!” He hollered in reference to their growing vibrator collection, and he heard her laughter drift his way. The thought did cross her mind.

Together they walked out to the back porch. Bill went to the grill, and Alma went out by the garden, laying out a blanket for later in the evening to enjoy the clear night sky. At least they hoped it’d be. 

Closing the lid on the propane grill, he glanced over at Alma, her bare round ass fully on display as she bent over to pick out the wooden weed box and a bottle of wine from a wicker basket for them to enjoy in the sauna. The glistening of the wetness slicking her thighs was not missed by him either. He pulled off his boxers and jogged to her as she made her way to the sauna. He offered to hold the items in her hand, while at the same time discreetly pulling the sash of her kimono from its loose knot. He began running to the sauna when she suddenly found herself naked. Reflexively, she tried to cover herself. Until she realized there wasn’t a need for modesty in their private haven. Alma pounded on the sauna door with the side of her fist, while Bill could be heard laughing from the inside. 

“Fine, then,” she relented. “I have the lighter. Enjoy the shitty wine.” 

The door cracked open then. “Just pass the lighter through.” 

Alma responded by pushing the door closed on him. He was surprised by the force of it, but then he finally opened the door with a mischievous grin on his face, to which Alma shook her head amused. They shared the wine, drinking it straight from the bottle, and enjoyed a fat joint. 

“We should try hotboxing this one day,” Bill said, scanning the apt size of the sauna as he passed the joint back to her.

“I’d just pass out.” 

“Whatever shit you were smoking just does that to you, love. This stuff from Darby’s uncle is a hybrid. More up, not down.” 

“Darby’s uncle? What are you talking about?” 

“Eh,” Bill scratched his sweaty neck. He misspoke. “Uh yeah. Harold. He’s got other businesses. You can’t be wealthy like they are without being a little crooked.” 

“And what does that mean?” She raised her brow, passing back the joint. 

“He just mentioned these farms in Northern California. He’s got his hands in it.” He gestured.

“Weed farms.” She deduced.

“Mhmm.” He took a deep drag, a plume of thick smoke left his lips, which he inhaled back into his lungs. “I’ll be right back.” He stood up and removed the white towel he had across his lap. 

“Where are you going?” She lightly pouted, but she was still curious about the farms. 

“I gotta check the fish.” He winked.

His return took a bit longer than expected, but Alma sat in wait with low eyes, comfortably hugging bent legs. He informed her that the food was done, and she suggested they finish off the joint. He flashed a goofy smile and happily took the joint she was holding out to him. 

Reaching over him, she grabbed the bottle of wine for a sip, her ass in the air trying to entice him, much to his amusement. After putting it back, she remained very close to him. Kissing his damp shoulder, prompting him to put his arm around her. He felt her hand slide down his relaxed abs, but he stopped her before she could remove the towel from his lap. She furrowed her brows and frowned. Tilting her chin with his hand, their low-lidded eyes met, full of desire. Both rosy-cheeked, glowing with dew, they began feverishly making out in the haze of steam and smoke in the sauna. 

When he felt Alma trying to straddle his lap, he gently pushed her back to lie on the bench. He passed the joint he was still holding and began tracing along the side of her pussy. It was tantalizing with how he took his time kissing her inner thighs. His long pointer finger gently swiped up her slit and traced the strip of hair at the top, and then went back down again, pressing lightly on her entrance. It made her heart thump hard in her chest. With the joint between her lips, she tossed her head back when he firmly put his whole mouth on her swollen pussy. His tongue pressed into her entrance, sucking and lapping like a parched man finally taking a drink of water. He rose, pressing his face against her soft thigh.

“Do you want to come?” He gave her a puppy dog gaze from under his brow, and she eagerly nodded. He took her hand to help her stand up, while he slouched a bit in his seat, spreading his legs wide, yet the white towel never left his lap. The gaze he kept on her intensified and then flicked down to his right leg. “Do it yourself.” Alma hesitated for a moment; she wanted him to make her cum. “Hurry. Before I change my fucking mind.”

Alma bit her lip, feeling the fire blaze in her core, and straddled his right thigh. Bill leaned forward to kiss her sweetly and then coaxed her to start grinding on him. She rutted against him but gently, which made Bill smirk. 

“I know you’re not shy, babe.” He chuckled. 

It caused her to giggle because, no, she wasn’t. She was trying to behave a little more submissively to match his dominant behavior. However, she was behaving just how he wanted her to be this whole time, frustrated and eager. Finally, she placed her hands at the top of his thigh for leverage and began grinding down harder. He took one last hit of the joint before laying the stub on the wooden box, then leaned back and spread his arms across the top bench to enjoy the display. Enjoying the look of her dewy body and how her arms pushed her tits out. He reached around her head to pull the scrunchy holding the low, loose bun she had and watched as her long brown hair fell and stuck against her. 

Her eyes fluttered closed as she was catching a satisfying rhythm for herself. He bit his lip when her shallow breaths quickened. Though they were covered in perspiration, he could feel her wetness and heat spreading across his skin as she rode his thigh. 

“There you go.” He encouraged pinching one of her nipples and rolling it between his fingers. 

Her movements were causing the towel he wore to slip, and she could see his pink hooded tip rising just above the edge of it. Bill noticed her intense, hungry gaze on it, and his breathing picked up as he tried to not give in to his carnal desires. She was getting off from just a glimpse of it. He wanted her on his cock just as much as she did, but he concealed himself once again. Holding his erection down with one hand, while the other hand on her hip assisted her deep rutting thrusts against him. She let out a sharp gasp and threw her head back. 

“Please don’t stop me.” She begged. 

“Squirt for me.” 

“I need your cock for that.” 

His jaw clenched and chest tightened, disappointed that he was giving in. He stopped her movements, causing her to whine loudly. She watched as he swiftly tore his towel away, finally revealing his blushing, hard cock. 

“Sit on it, right now.” His chest visibly rose as she did so. Agonizingly slow, too, because she wanted to tease him for what he had been putting her through. When he bottomed out, they both let out a strained moan from the reconnection. “Don’t fucking move.” He demanded. 

He placed his thumb on her overly sensitive clit, and she threw her head back again as he rebuilt upon her ruined orgasm. He could feel her pulsing all around him, getting tighter, hotter than a furnace, and he felt doomed. The high was adding an extra intense layer to it all. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Bill groaned. “Are you going to come for me?” 

“Yes,” she squeaked out. “K-keep going. Please!” She cried out. All the tension she felt from the previous denial built upon itself, and then it imploded. A flood erupted out of her and onto him. The release was dizzying, making her ears ring from the intensity, while her hips involuntarily jolted. Bill sat in awe, covered in her wetness, feeling everything while buried inside her. 

“Fuck me!” He conceded. 

Alma began to thrust her hips into his eagerly with his help. “Give me your cum, baby.” She said, running her hands through his short hair. 

“I’ll give it to you.” He said through clenched teeth.

“Give it to me deep.” She moaned. 

A few short thrusts later, he let out a loud, deep moan from his whole being. “Ah, fuck me! Don’t stop.” He smacked her ass before gripping it and assisting her thrusts.

Alma was surprised, she was sure that was it. As their bodies rocked against each other, she could see a look of bewilderment in his eyes until he shut them tight. His cock was sensitive; she could sense that. Suddenly, he held on to her tightly as he stood up, unsatisfied with her work as her legs were wobbly from her climax. He laid her down on the bench and plunged back between her legs. He was still rock hard. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bill muttered as he rocked his hips into hers. “Baby… I’m going to cum again.” 

Again? She briefly thought until the feeling of another orgasm overrode it. She pulled at him, hands gliding on wet skin, to hold him close as she hit another crescendo. Hollering in the sauna so loud it was a blessing they were secluded. Their lips met as she began falling from the peak. 

“Cum on me.” She breathily said in his ear. 

He leaned back, ready to let go, and pulled out, stroking his cock before her. A guttural scream came from deep within him when he released pearlescent ropes glazed her torso and pussy. His jaw was slack, admiring her covered in his essence and running her fingers through it to have a taste. 

“You made a mess,” she giggled. “Are you breathing?” 

Bill cracked a bashful smile and then sat, trying to catch his breath in the stuffy sauna. Bill had his head tilted back with his eyes closed while Alma kissed along his jaw and throat as he processed what happened to him. Edging for half the day, he had done alone, in the penthouse, but never once did he deny himself this long to the point his balls felt heavy, though. If he was ready, he was ready. Today was the day he actually tried to push through but failed. Even on Alma’s birthday the year prior, he was too weak to hold off. However, what he didn’t expect was to release twice. That hadn’t ever happened to him. Maybe the weed contributed to it, he wondered.

“Felt good, didn’t it?” 

“Hmm.” 

“Finally getting to cum.” She whispered against his hot skin. “I felt what you did.” She said, as if she had uncovered a secret he wasn’t ready to reveal. She could feel his cum dripping out of her, while also covered in it. 

…

They enjoyed their lukewarm dinner as they finally filled their hungry bellies appreciatively. After a quick intimate shower, they were half-dressed in the backyard again. Alma was wearing a thong and an oversized band shirt, and Bill was in his usual boxer briefs. There were two, three-wick candles lit next to them, providing a romantic glow, and the lightning bugs shone on the edge of the property. They even spotted a white bunny rabbit hop along before disappearing into the brush. While enjoying a bowl of chopped fruits and cheeses with accompanying gummy fruit candies, a piece of mango fell between Alma’s crossed legs. Bill bent over, burying his face in her lap, and ate it off the blanket they sat on, making her laugh. 

Alma was talking about her upcoming plans of decorating their home, and he happily listened. It felt nice that they could make such permanent decisions. When they lived together in New York, they never bothered with decor, knowing their stay would be temporary. They moved somewhere new every year. 

However, he could recall a night in which Alma stayed the night with him in his home in Strathburg. She had been dancing on his spring-broken bed, and he playfully tackled her down and cuddled right after. She asked him what his future home would look like. He gave a generic answer at first, and listened to her talk about having a dog and describe rooms that seemed inspired by Barbie's dream homes. That’s when he finally decided to share how he wanted a big backyard and a dog, too. A Doberman Pinscher, to be exact. He also added that he wanted a nice kitchen but, most importantly, a full pantry. 

“We need to get outdoor furniture for the office balcony,” she pointed. The office was in the opposite wing of the house. When Bill first took a look around, he assumed that was where their room would be until he found the secret sitting room in their bedroom. “But the gallery wall I want to put in there, you can help me with that. Is there something you want to do to the house?” 

“Mm. We should take one of our family portraits and get it painted to put over the fireplace in the living room. Like five feet tall.” He laughed. 

“Do you want it to come with spooky cobwebs pre-applied, too?” She laughed with him. “Be serious!”

“Maybe after I’m done with the stuff at the shop, I can really think about it.” He smiled.

“You’ve done such a good job with it so far,” she praised.

“Well, I have hel—”

“Help.” She interjected. “Take the credit for once,” she giggled, shaking her head. “You work hard, you know. All those nights.” 

Bill nodded and leaned back on his hands, admiring their home from where he sat, feeling a bit small under it for a change. “It’s a big home. Almost. Too big.” 

Alma laughed. “You chose it!” 

“You did too!” He playfully defended.

“Yeah. But you knew, I’d like it. You always seem to know.” She kissed his cheek and looked at their home before them under the star-studded night. Thinking of the humble Missouri homes they grew up in compared to now. 

Bill’s hand crept towards the edge of the blanket they sat on, and underneath, he gripped the velvet ring box he had hidden there when he had gone to check the food on the grill. He looked at her, taking in the moment of her, completely unaware. She knew this would happen, just not exactly when. He felt himself becoming nervous. He had been in possession of the ring for a few months now, trying to find a good moment to ask for her hand. He nearly asked her on her birthday, but he didn’t deem it fair for the proposal to overshadow her day.

There was also the fact that he was unsure of what to say. He figured outside the obvious; he’d just speak from whatever came to heart. He wasn’t so good at these things, but for her, he’d try. 

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” She giggled, feeling like they had done so much on their first night alone at their house. “Maybe we could check out the woods behind us.”

“Hmm. Maybe you can tell me what tomorrow will be like if you say yes.” 

“Say what?” She turned to him, perplexed. 

She thought her heart stopped for a moment until she gasped. Taking in the sight of him holding onto an opened jewelry box with the most beautiful and unique ring glittered before her, illuminated by the candlelight. Her eyes were wide when she looked at him in wait and back at the ring.

“Really!?” She gasped. “Wait, I-I should stand up!” 

“Okay,” he chuckled, and then got on one knee before her. “Okay,” he inhaled deeply, looking up at her with nerves swimming in his belly. “Alma?” 

“Yeah!” She smiled. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Yeah! Yes!” She leaned down to kiss him deeply, and then she giggled, tickled by it all. She knew they’d be married someday when he had told her as much at the springs, but she hadn’t any idea of when he’d officially ask. He really did catch her by surprise. 

Bill laughed happily as he stood up and embraced her. “I love you.” 

“I know! I know it!” Happy tears welled up in her eyes as she giggled. “I love you!” 

“Let me—let me put it on you,” he said, taking a step back and taking the ring out of the box, which he let fall on the blanket. 

He carefully slid the jewelry on her ring finger, and it looked like it belonged there all this time. 

“It’s fucking beautiful, Billy! Two!?”

“I felt like you deserved more than one gem.” 

“And this one?” She pointed. 

“Green sapphire.” 

She smiled, looking up to gaze into his eyes. “Green. Like your eyes.” 

“Mhmm.” He flashed a dimpled smile. “It’s forever for me.” He said seriously. “Until,” he paused, feeling a swell of emotion suddenly fill him. “Until I’m no longer breathing. I promise. I don’t want to live this life without you with me all the way.”

She smiled wistfully, placing her left hand on his high cheek. “Until I’m no longer breathing. I promise.” She repeated and they sealed it with a kiss. 

“Unless…” Bill side-eyed her once they settled on the blanket again, lying down this time. 

“Unless what?” 

“Unless you divorce me one day,” he laughed.

“Don’t ruin the moment. I wouldn’t!” She laughed with him. 

“I know you wouldn’t but say you did. Could I like, booty call you sometimes?” 

She shook her head, amused. “Seriously?” She raised her brows at him. “Yeah. You can booty call me.” 

And together they laughed loudly under the clear night sky. The stars tonight seemed dim now that Alma had two shining right on her hand. 

…

Fall 1997

The family was in New York City as Echo would attend first grade at a highly competitive private school. Today was the first day of school. Bill was up before everyone, everyone except his son, whom he found lying awake contently in his crib. Luxe looked a lot like his mother, with wavy chestnut hair and a soft tan complexion, but he had his eyes. Exactly like them. Big, curious, green eyes.

He loved his boy so dearly, but there was a time when the thought of having a son terrified him. Worried that the generational curses, which his brother seemed to claim loomed over them, would continue with him. However, he had to remind himself that he was very much Alma’s child too. That he would grow to be better because of her, just like he had. 

After changing him and making a bottle, he held onto him while starting the coffee pot. Upstairs, he could hear Alma’s feet patter quickly to the bathroom, hearing her cough, making him grimace sympathetically. He reached into a tea jar and produced a mint leaf blend to make a cup for her.

“You’ll be okay by yourself, huh, Lucky?” He said, kissing the top of his head before laying him in a baby bouncer in the living room. 

“Da-da.” He giggled contently, making his father smile. 

He appeared at Echo’s doorway and lightly knocked the frame. She lay in bed with her eyes closed with a small smile on her face, quite obviously pretending to be asleep. She wasn’t all too thrilled to be going to school in New York. Not only that, but she loved Seattle and the school she attended there with her friends and favorite granola teacher. Her parents explained to her that they just wanted her to have the best education, but that fell on deaf ears for an almost six-year-old. She didn’t care; her home was in Seattle.

“Echo?” Bill said, approaching the side of her bed and taking a seat. “Echo.” He tickled her side, and she began to lightly giggle, much to her dismay. “I knew you were pretending,” he chuckled. “You gotta get up. It’s the first day of school.” 

She lifted the covers over her face and whined. “I’m tired.” 

“C’mon,” he said, pulling the covers away. “You have to get up, honey.” 

“Where’s Mama?” 

“I have to go wake her up, but I’m here with you. She’ll be down to help you once you start getting ready.” 

Echo sighed, but she accepted her father's kiss on the cheek and then begrudgingly made her way to the bathroom. Bill bit his lip, amused by her attitude, and made his way back upstairs. 

Alma was in bed, sitting against the headboard, looking a bit clammy as she drank a bottle of water when he entered. 

“Echo is up.” He said, sitting next to her and handing her the mug of tea he made. “You okay?” He asked, putting his hand on her damp forehead before running his fingers through her scalp. 

“Yeah,” she sighed, sounding a bit defeated before taking a sip. “I’ll be fine. Who’s up.” 

“Everyone except Vida. For now.” He smiled. 

How he loved his little, loud baby daughter. She gave them hell, but they loved her so much for it. Though she couldn’t talk much, her expressions let you know just what she was thinking. Half the time, it looked like she was cursing you out, which they found amusing. She looked a lot like Echo did as a baby, with light hair but with deep brown doe eyes. She could also be very sweet, but it was her brother who was the charmer of the two. However, that was just how the twins operated, he was the cute distraction for her to pick your pockets.

“Spoke too soon.” Alma giggled when they could hear her loud cries down below. 

“V’ is awake!” Echo hollered as if they didn’t know, but she liked to be helpful. 

“Lay down for a little bit,” he yawned, patting Alma’s thigh before kissing her. “It’s still early as fuck.”

She glanced at the clock, it was hardly 6 am. She lightly groaned while she settled back down into the bed. 

“I hear you, baby! Everyone heard you!” She could hear Bill playfully say below to their disgruntled daughter. Suddenly, she stopped and began giggling loudly seeing her father, which made Alma smile. 

Echo crept up the winding wrought iron staircase with her school uniform. “Mama?” 

She turned and sat up and gestured for her to climb into bed. Echo smiled brightly and jumped in. “Good morning, baby,” she said, peppering kisses on her daughter's cheek, making her snicker. “Are you excited about going to your new school today?” Echo's face fell, making Alma feel bad. “What is it?” She asked, tucking a piece of her caramel brown hair behind her ear affectionately. 

“I don’t know anyone.” 

“But you will. You’ll make friends, baby. Is that all?” 

“It’s smelly here.” 

Alma laughed. “Well—yeah. I’m sorry, I can’t do anything about that.” 

“Echo?” Bill hollered down below when he was unable to find her. 

“She’s up here!” Alma replied to his relief. He wouldn’t put it past her if she left the penthouse just because she didn’t want to go to school. “You want some cuddles? And then I can help you get ready.” 

Echo nodded happily and embraced her mother, soaking in all the love and comfort she provided. Shortly, Echo began getting dressed upstairs while Alma went downstairs to check on the other children. Both of them were in their bouncer and smiled at her happily babbling. They could speak well enough for a year and a half, but they often felt comfortable in their strange twin language. 

Echo was brushing her hair in her parent's closet before her father came to get dressed. Besides looking through her mother's vanity, she loved to look through her mother's clothing in the closet. So many pieces, from designer to vintage. In all classifications of fabrics. She helped pick out some pieces while shopping with her father searching for a dress, and he’d ask her valued opinion. She liked those days because it meant she could pick something out for herself too.

“Do you want some help?” He asked her while she sat on the bed trying to put on her white stockings.

“Mm,” she scrunched her eyes in thought. “I’ll wait for mommy.”

“Hm, okay.” He said, even if it was hard to leave her to struggle. Lately, she wanted to do most things without her parent's help. 

“Look how pretty you look!” Alma said to Echo’s reflection in the bathroom mirror before them after fixing her hair into a single french braid. “You look like such a big girl.” She could feel a lump form in her throat, suddenly feeling sentimental. When she started kindergarten, she cried in the car after dropping her off. Today, it just made it more apparent that she wasn’t a baby anymore. It didn’t help that she was also an inch or two taller than most of her peers. “Do you like it?” She asked, brushing her bangs down. 

Echo nodded and appreciatively ran her hands along her neat braid. Alma led her into the closet and pulled two tops out. They were similar black long-sleeve turtleneck shirts, but one had a cutout in the chest. She would pair them with a tight over-the-knee pencil skirt, sheer black pantyhose, and comfortable pumps. Bill found them in there when he went to grab a turtleneck for himself. He was only in dress pants and a black tank. He smirked when he heard Echo suggest the top with the cutout. It was what he would pick too, but it reinforced that fact that one day she’d want to dress the same, and he had to be okay with it within reason. 

“Could I wear some of your perfume too, Mama?” He heard Echo ask.

“Mm. Just a spritz, okay? But which one?” 

He announced that breakfast was ready before leaving them upstairs. While tucking in his shirt, he saw Vida, who was supposed to be secured in her bouncer, running toward the kitchen and sighed. He waited a moment and caught her in his arms when she came running past on chubby legs, giggling mischievously. He buried his face in her neck, blowing raspberries, which made her shriek delightfully while he placed her in the high chair. 

“Stay seated, okay?” He looked at her pointedly, and she just flashed him a drooly smile as she nibbled on her fingers. “I didn’t forget about you, Lucky.” He said, getting him out of the chair swing to join his sister at the table. That’s when he noticed a cookie lying underneath him, apparently Vida had broken out to dig in the pantry to give him. 

After they ate breakfast as a family, it was time to leave. The college-aged nanny had arrived with her book bag and a big travel mug full of coffee. She would watch the twins while the parents and their eldest child left.

“We’ll be back around, uh, 1:00?” Bill told her while rocking his son in his arms. Alma asked for him, and he gently put him on his feet, where he bumbled over to his siblings. “Maybe make it two. After our appointment, we’ll be having lunch.”

Alma was helping Echo put her backpack on. A backpack her father Antonio sent the money for, to gift his granddaughter. She told Vida and Luxe to hug their big sister before they left.

“Say I love you, Echo.” She tried to encourage them, and they did the best they could with their babbling speech. Both Vida and Luxe addressed their big sister as Coco.

“Coco, Coco!” Luxe made kissy faces at his big sister, and she leaned down to let him kiss her cheek. 

“So sweet of you, Luxe!” Alma giggled, seeing Echo wipe slobber from her cheek. Luckily, Echo had learned to love him just the same as she loved her little sister and giggled when he hugged her tightly again. He was always a very affectionate little boy. 

Bill helped Alma put on her coat while she watched the babies pulling at Echo’s backpack curiously. Emotion welled up within her again, and then she felt sick. Her mouth watered, causing her to thickly swallow it back. She took in a shaky breath after saying goodbye to the other children and the nanny, and off they went. 

Echo watched her father turn the volume dial down on the radio and listened to her parents discuss where to park when they approached the school. 

“You see?” Alma pointed at the building, and when she glanced back at her, she did a double take. “Are you wearing my lip gloss?” 

“What?” Bill said, trying to peer at his daughter through the rearview mirror. She was indeed wearing a thick application of pink glittery gloss on her lips. 

“Hand it over,” Alma said with her palm out. “You have to ask first, baby. You know that.” 

Echo frowned and begrudgingly pulled the tube from her uniform skirt pocket. Bill glanced at it when Alma put it in her purse and shook his head disapprovingly. Before they approached the front door of the building, Alma dabbed off some of the gloss with her hand so that it looked like she wore a more tasteful chapstick. 

Together, they joined the other families, escorting their respective children into the building. Bill looked around and noticed some heavy-duty-looking SUVs politicians would usually be chauffeured in, and wondered who his daughter would be going to school with. 

While heading to the classroom, Echo noticed that her father was no longer next to her, and she turned her head to look for him.

“I’ll be right behind you, baby!” He lightly hollered and stayed behind to talk to the principal. 

Echo met her teacher, Ms. Hartford, who had a sweet, enthusiastic attitude as she greeted her students. Alma helped her daughter look for her cubby and assisted with taking her coat and backpack. She expected Echo to run off to join her classmates mingling on the brightly colored carpet where they were enjoying mini donuts. However, she was hesitant and stayed close.

“E’,” Alma crouched down to her level. “Go say hi to everyone. They all look nice.” 

She glanced over with trepidation in her eyes. “Where is Papa?” 

“He’ll be here. He won’t leave without saying goodbye, you know that. Okay?” 

Just a few paces away, a thin, honey-blonde, well-put-together woman was reassuring her son similarly. Echo hugged her mother tightly and mustered the courage to join the others, and soon after the little boy did too. 

The women nodded at each other, greeting each other with a friendly smile. 

“Uhm, I’m Carmen,” the woman said, putting her hand out for a friendly shake. 

“Alma,” she smiled politely, shaking her hand. “First day of school, right?” 

“Oh, yeah. Joseph is my little boy. He can be a bit nervous.” It was an understatement. It seemed like her boy was terrified of everything, which frustrated his father a lot. 

“He seems sweet. Echo is my little girl. Maybe they can be friends. She’s always been friendly. It’s just that she was going to school out of state, so it’s all new again for her.” 

Bill was speaking with the principal, whom he mutually knew through a Trigger Finger patron, a brother of his who worked for the state. How weird he felt speaking amiably with a school administrator when, while he was in school, he’d daydream of spitting in their faces. In fact, he still did sometimes. 

“Uhm, sorry,” said Principal Everton, looking rather regretful and nervous. “I have to address this. Would you excuse me?” 

Bill nodded and watched him walk towards the entrance. There were several private police, and then his stomach sank. Joey Russo stood there, greeting the principal. He was currently on bail and facing a massive RICO court case. When Bill and Alma heard the news, they were conflicted at first, wondering if anything could come back on them. They settled, knowing nothing could, and celebrated over Joey Russo’s misfortune. 

He turned on his heel, his coattails splaying with how urgently he headed towards Echo���s classroom, walking past a New York State representative he recognized. He entered the classroom and spotted his daughter talking to a little shy boy while they ate mini chocolate donuts with the other schoolchildren. The teacher cheerily greeted him, and he gave her a hard-lined smile, introducing himself. Finally, he spotted his wife when a group of parents broke apart and noticed her speaking to another mother. It wasn’t until he noticed her ice-blue eyes that he internally groaned in irritation. He recognized her, Carmen, Joey’s wife. 

This can’t be fucking happening. He thought to himself. When the little boy who Echo was speaking to ran back to her, clinging to her leg, he just didn’t know what the hell to do. He tried to think of what his brother once said—that the kids are innocent under the sins of their parents. His only move was to get Alma out of the school building without noticing what was going on, but he knew it would be for naught. 

He approached Alma and pulled her a bit away from Carmen while distracted by her son. “Uhm, we should probably start heading out, love.” He flashed his wristwatch to her for the time. 

“Oh. Yeah, we should.” She called Echo over for them to say goodbye. 

“I love you, baby. Have a good day.” She said to her and laughed a little when she affectionately nuzzled her face into her belly. 

Bill crouched down to her level. “You look so pretty today, honey.” He lightly poked her nose before pinching her cheek. “I love you. Be brave, remember?” 

Echo nodded, hugging him. “Can you make spaghetti for dinner?” 

Bill chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds good! With garlic bread, right?” 

“Mhmm!” Her eyes lit up, happily. “I love you, Papa. I love you, Mama.” And off she went and joined the class confidently. 

Bill took Alma’s hand, noticing her blinking rapidly to keep her tears at bay, and led them out of the school.

“What’s going on?” Alma asked, noticing some commotion just off to the side of the entrance, but Bill remained quiet, looking straight forward.

“But I should be able to see my boy!” Someone in the middle of the gang of people harshly demanded. 

“Yes, yes. And that’s perfectly fine, but without the security, Mr. Russo.” Principal Everton tried to reason. 

Alma’s heart sank hearing the name, but when they rounded the corner, she caught a glimpse of Joey Russo in her daughter’s school. She paused, stunned, but Bill tugged her arm. 

“Keep walking.” 

“Bill! It's. W-we can’t.” She stuttered as panic rose in her chest. 

“Not here. Keep walking.” 

“Bill, she cannot go here!” She said once they reached their car. “Fuck! I’m so—I’m so fucking stupid!” She looked up to the sky with glassy eyes. 

The idea of Echo attending a swanky private school was all hers, and now she cursed her line of optimistic thinking. However, this school wasn’t their first option. Bill was partly to blame for this situation because, at their preferred school, the dean was a woman he had a short-lived tryst with when Alma had moved away to Seattle. To say Alma was pissed when he revealed that to her would be an understatement. She asked if he could get over it, to which he replied that he was over it, but that it was just too weird. He deeply regretted that now. He could have dealt with weird because now the situation they were in was just plain fucked up.

“Do not say that! You’re not,” he said, opening the passenger door. “We couldn’t have known.”

She glanced at the opened car door and back at him, appalled that he was really trying to leave their daughter behind. “Bill, no! We need to get her out. We’ll,” she paused, feeling herself getting sick again. “No!” She shook her head. 

“Get in the car, Alma.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” 

“We’re not doing this outside the fucking school. Get in!” 

Alma ran a hand through her hair, stressed, but did as he said. He looked back at the school as he rounded the car. When he entered, Alma was pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to will the tears falling from her cheeks away, but it was futile. Even justified to cry from the situation, she couldn’t stop the tears. She had too before she became hysterical and inconsolable, though. She could feel it building to that point. 

“They knew!” She said trying to figure out how this could happen. “They know who she is!” 

“Alma… I don’t think so.” He sighed. “You, you were speaking to his wife in there.” 

“What!? No, no! No, we have to get her out right now!” 

“We’re not doing that.” 

“What are you talking about?!” She sobbed, feeling helpless. 

“She is going to this fucking school, Alma!” He huffed, and then he did his best to settle himself. He shouldn’t be making Alma upset in her state. “Look at me.” He said, unsuccessfully trying to take the edge off his voice, but she refused to look at him. 

“I can’t believe you, right now!” 

“Listen to me, then. We are not taking her out of this school.” He stressed. “We are not fucking scared of them. Do you hear me?” 

Alma bit her quivering lip as tears ran down her face. “BUT I AM!” She cried, turning to him and clutching onto her chest. “I’m so fucking scared. I just want to go home!” Home, a thousand miles away from there.

Bill had to look away for a moment. “I know.” He turned to her. “I know, baby, but you can’t show them that. Taking Echo out today and going back to Seattle will just prove—” he sneered, disgusted at the thought of tucking tail. “The school year will come and go. It’s nothing.”

“I don’t know, Bill.” She sniffled, wiping at her cheeks. “I want to believe that-that,” she sighed, feeling defeated. 

“If we take Echo out today, what will she think? We tell her all the time to be brave and,” he quickly cleared his throat when he felt it tighten. “And if she sees us backing out like this—if those motherfuckers see us. I can’t. I won’t do it. I fucking refuse.” 

Alma remained silent, trying to compose herself. “Oh, god, this is such bullshit!” She groaned, agitated as tears slipped from her eyes.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tilting his head to peer out for her gaze.

Alma closed her eyes and then finally looked at him. “I do. I trust you.” 

“Remember, Joey is going to federal fucking prison. I know this is upsetting, and this is—this is fucking crazy. But Echo will be okay. He can’t move an inch without the police being right on his ass. She’ll be okay.” He willed. “I promise.” 

“Okay... Fuck him, though.” She sniffled.

“Yeah. Fuck him.” He leaned over to put an arm around her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t be doing that.” He kissed her.

“It’s fine. We were just surprised—caught off guard.” 

“No. You’re pregnant, Alma. That was ugly of me.” He said, affectionately rubbing her small, round belly. She was four months pregnant. “I’m sorry,” he said again, leaning over and kissing the top of her belly. “Are you okay?”

Alma lightly frowned. “No, but… I trust you.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, he would accept that. “Now. I’m going to start the car, and we’re going straight to the OB appointment, okay?” 

She let him start the car but placed her hand on top of his while trying to turn the gear in drive. He took a deep, shaky breath, his anxiousness and stress wanting to spill over, but he felt he needed to be strong at the moment and composed himself. “Baby… I don’t want to leave her, either. But we have to. Trust me, please.” He pleaded. 

“Okay, okay.” She nodded and then allowed him to proceed. 

While driving past the school building, they kept their eyes on it until they no longer could. They were silent for a moment and then accepted that this was just what it was going to be. Bill reached for her hand to hold tightly and kissed the back of it several times. 

“What do you think the baby will be?” He asked, trying to bring back some levity. 

Alma cracked a small smile. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’m okay with whatever.” 

“I just need them to double-check there’s only one in there again.” He said, making them both laugh. Their first ultrasound proved as much, but still, a second confirmation would be nice. 

Soon the school year would be over without incident. Echo had learned so much and thrived in the city and learned to love living there. Joey Russo and some other unfortunates were implicated and sentenced to prison. The court proceedings were televised, and they watched it every day like a telenovela. However, the conclusion was a bit disappointing, they felt the sentence was a mere slap on the wrist for what he really deserved. 

Ultimately, they returned to Seattle with one extra newborn in tow. Back in their home, where the rain fell on their children, giggling and running around the back garden. Grass stuck to their legs and mud covered their bare feet while chasing their Doberman, Reaper. Alma introduced their small baby to the rain, welcoming them home, and then joined the others. Bill put an arm around her with a content, dimpled smile on his face, and they stood together, letting the soft rain wash their sins away.

FIN

[alaydabug2]

Tag list: @sparklenarniawizard @imobsessed123 @nowjumpinthewater @ilikebookssomuch @insert-clever-username-1133

Broken heart/Broken mind

Chapter Eighty-two

(Human AU)

Sophie and Keefe met in the children's hospital when they were little. Because of how long they were confined to the four walls of the hospital, they became very close during their stay.

As the years pass, they wind up being in the same classroom together due to their physical conditions. This makes their bond deepen.

But are they able to handle when life gets tough, throwing problems and complications their way?

(College)

"I'll be fine," Sophie assured her parents. "I can handle it."

"We know, Kiddo," Grady said. "Still doesn't make it any less bittersweet."

She hugged them one last time before climbing into her car. She was moving into her dorm. College was two hours away.

"I'll visit. Promise," she told them before pulling out of the driveway.

When she arrived on campus, she was given a quick tour before being given her room key. She brought her stuff into the room and started unpacking. She jumped when a girl with bronze skin walked across the kitchen.

"Umm," Sophie murmured. "Who are you?"

The girl looked up. "Oh, hey. I'm Rayni, your roommate. You?"

She let out a breath. "I'm Sophie. Sorry about that."

Rayni shrugged. "You're fine. Lemme guess, freshman?"

"Yeah. What about you?"

"Sophmore." She took a sip out of her mug. "There's a pot of coffee on the counter," she chuckled, "You're gonna need it."

Oh, Sophie could imagine. "Thanks."

She checked her phone. It seems like Keefe had arrived. He said to meet him at the courtyard. She grabbed her purse and set out.

She found him waiting under a tree. A grin broke out on his face. She felt one tug up on hers, too. She went to greet him.

He leaned down and kissed her. "Hey, Foster. Meet your roommate yet?"

She circled her arms around his neck. He leaned his forehead on hers.

"Yeah. A sophomore named Rayni. What about you."

He laughed. "Yup. It's Tammy Boy."

Sophie snorted. "Ooh. I bet that'll be fun."

"Oh yeah." He shook his head. "Joyful."

She laughed. "Oh, come on. It won't be that bad."

"You don't have to live with him, Foster!"

She rolled her eyes. "You'll be fine."

Still, he pouted. She ruffled his hair.

"Hey!" He jerked away. "No touchy."

She cocked her head. "Yes, touchy." She reached back up to his head.

He caught her hand and brought them up to his lips. He placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Bub," she whined. "Why won't you let me touch your hair?"

"Because we're in public. You can when we're cuddling later." He took her by the hand. "Now, what section of campus are you in. I want to see your dorm!"

[tarditzgrade]

this is probably my last fic for greenflower week. i've got no ideas for the other prompts so i'm gonna work on compiling them into a ao3 fic that'll go up tomorrow maybe probably. besides that though

Day 4 - Healing/Hurt

Lloyd finds Brad after he got in a fight and offers to help bandage his wounds.

around 1082 words :). tw/cw for mentions of blood and violence. it's not gratuitous and the injury is kept kinda vague, but it's still there.

“I still can’t believe you got into a fight.” Lloyd called from the bathroom.

“I still can’t believe the guy had the audacity to scratch me.” Brad responded from his spot on the couch. He turned over his forearm to get a better look at the scratches that ran up it. That guy must’ve had talons on him.

Brad readjusted the ice pack Lloyd had given him earlier. Oh, how the tables had turned. Usually it was Lloyd showing up at Brad’s place in the middle of the night because he got beat up.

This time, Lloyd had found Brad beat up after fighting with some guy in the city. According to Brad’s own assessment, he thought he was fine to patch himself up, but Lloyd insisted on going with him to his place to help out.

“Where’d you say the bandages were, again?”

“Middle shelf of the cabinet. The rest of the first aid stuff should be there, too.”

“Oh, I see it.”

Several clatters could be heard following that statement, supposedly the sound of many plastic items hitting the floor.

“Sorry! I dropped a few things.”

“It’s fine.” Brad moved the ice pack he held on his side again. Maybe he should get something to put in-between him and the ice. This cold was starting to feel biting and his shirt didn’t seem to be enough. “Can you grab a small towel while you’re back there?” Brad called.

“Yup.” Lloyd responded.

Brad sighed and looked back at the scratches on his arm. None of them were too major on their own and they had all stopped bleeding a bit ago. The issue was that they were numerous. It was like he had gotten mauled by a cat, but instead it was a grown-ass man.

“Okay, I don’t know if this is all needed, but better safe than sorry, right?” Lloyd came back into the room with a few medical supplies. “Here’s the towel.”

“Thanks.” Brad accepted the towel and placed it between the ice pack and his shirt. Yeah, that felt better.

Lloyd placed the stuff he brought down on the coffee table, then pulled Brad’s arm closer to him. He grimaced. “What’d you even do to get this scratched up?”

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy. I think I caught him across the face once or twice.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Lloyd sat down next to Brad to look at his arm better. “Since when did you get into fights?”

“I mean, I went to Darkley’s, too, so I’m no stranger to it. But this was an exception. He started it and I was just defending myself.”

“Well, as long as this doesn’t become a pattern, I guess it’s fine. The scratches are just on this arm, right?”

“I think so.” They had already cleaned the wounds earlier, with Lloyd running Brad’s arm under the water himself. Brad, again, felt that he could’ve done all this on his own, and expressed this to Lloyd, but Lloyd asserted that he wanted to help.

Lloyd made a move for the pile of medical stuff before stopping, hesitant to select something.

“Are you okay, Lloyd?”

“Yeah, uh, do you apply ointment for stuff like this or just skip straight to the bandages?”

“…you don’t know?”

Lloyd picked up one of the tubes of ointment. “Not really. When I get hurt, I just put a bandage on it until someone else who’s better at this stuff can come look at it. Sometimes I don’t even bandage it if I’m short on time.”

“That’s usually how cuts get infected.”

“Probably,” was all Lloyd had to answer. Before Brad could fire back his concerns, Lloyd had decided on an answer to his previous question. “Y’know what? Let’s just do the ointment, anyways. It can’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Kinda.” And without further elaboration, Lloyd applied ointment to the first cut.

It didn’t hurt, and Brad didn’t expect it to. It was Lloyd’s determination that surprised him more than anything.

Lloyd worked quietly and diligently, individually rubbing ointment into each cut. Brad let him sit in silence and watched as he did. Despite his apparent ineptitude with this kind of stuff, he seemed to be fairly confident with his methods.

Occasionally, he’d ask Brad if he was doing alright or if he needed another ice pack, but Brad told him he was okay.

“Okay,” Lloyd rubbed ointment into the final wound. “I think that’s the last one. The rest are too tiny to care about.”

“If something happens with those, I’ll tell you.” Brad turned his arm over to verify what Lloyd had done. “What now?”

“Bandages, probably. Do you want, like, one big wrap or a bunch of tiny ones?”

Brad laughed at the thought of his arm riddled with tiny band-aids. “The wrap is probably more practical.”

“Okay, just making sure.” Lloyd found a roll of bandages in the pile he brought out and began wrapping it around Brad’s forearm.

“So you don’t do any of the medical stuff for the team?” Brad asked.

“Nope. Only reason I’m in the infirmary is if I’m hurt.” He tapped Brad’s arm to signal he was done.

“I think you should try helping out there more. You did a great job with this one.” He leaned over to plant a kiss on Lloyd’s cheek. “Thanks for taking care of me, green bean.”

Lloyd smiled at the nickname. “Anytime.” He gathered up all the medical supplies on the table and went to put them back in the bathroom.

Brad watched him go. Damn, he was lucky. Lloyd didn’t have to do this. He had a whole city to watch over. But instead he took the time to stop and help him out with something as small as this, even if it wasn’t entirely his forte.

What did he do to deserve someone like Lloyd?

Lloyd came back after a bit, but he didn’t sit down. “Anyways, you should rest up. Don’t forget to change the bandages after a while. And watch those bruises.”

“I will.” Brad responded. If Lloyd was gonna stop and help, Brad might as well indulge. “Do you have any plans after this?”

“Well, it's late, so no, I don’t.”

“You wanna stay the night? I’m not doing anything tomorrow morning.”

Lloyd thought about it, but ultimately agreed. “Sure. As long as it’ll keep you out of fights.”

“It probably will.”

[doctorstrangereview]

0068: Doctor Strange #173

Cover Date: October 1968 On-Sale Date: July 12, 1968

This issue closes the Dormammu returns arc. Oddly, on the cover, Dormie's head is colored green. I guess they needed him to have the same color as nearly every other villain in this series, even if it's for one picture. Colan gives us lots more weird. Roy writes a good yarn.

Doc stands between Dormie's army of dykkors and the doorway of the dimensions. Dormie is about to send his minions to attack when Umar, clever as always, goads him into a personal duel with the sorcerer. Dormie realizes why she wants this but he does enters into the duel anyway. Doc isn't sure he's up for this and Dormie conjures A LOT of power which Gene illustrates as a full page.

The dykkors are as cowardly as ever. I'm not sure why Dormie thinks they can help him conquer a universe, but maybe it's just the sheer numbers. Doc spends a page countering the maelstrom and then wonders why Dormie doesn't attack again. He used too much gas on that attack and now he's spent. One of the dykkors says naughty things about Dormie's stamina and is banished to nothingness for its efforts. Oops! That'll teach to talk out of turn.

Over on camera 2, Clea and Victoria are heading back to Earth. Cleas is wondering how they'll survive the transition to the Earth dimension and lo and behold, protective bubbles appear around them. This series' timing can be spot on at times! While in the bubble, Vicky frets melodramatically about the fact that Doc will never hers.

Camera 3 shows us Wong at the Sanctum Sanctorum just as a purple aberration appears in mid-air. He is excited because he thinks Doc has returned, but it's just Clea and Vicky. This is the first time Clea and Wong have met. Apparently Doc has told each one about the other.

The ladies appear with a large splash of glowing water. It's a good thing Wong is a domestic and can clean things up. He spends the next couple of panels doing this while Clea attempts to stop Vicky from telling Wong that Doc is in danger. Too late. She blabbed and now Wong is worried. Just as Wong finishes cleaning up the glowing other-dimension water there is a furious knocking at the door. It's Doctor Benton, Doc's former colleague from his neurosurgeon days. Keep an eye on this guy!

Benton pushes past Wong telling him he will wait for Doc and starts ranting. We switch to camera 4 where we see the exterior of the Sanctum. Gene isn't good at drawing this yet. Don't worry, he gets better over the years.

After attacking everything about Doc's life including the attire of his ladies, Wong now frets over Doc's fate and we go back to The Realm Unknown. The tunnel to get there is much nicer than NYC's Lincoln Tunnel.

Dormie has wrapped Doc in constricting chains. They'll kill him as they get tighter. Of course, as is typical for the series, no one stays to the end. Dormie goes off to continue attacking the doorway and Gene gives us a clever three-panel series.

Umar herself is being spied on and subtly manipulated by Clea implanting a suggestion. As a bonus, the Orb of Agamotto finally receives its name officially. Umar is out of sorts, however so Clea and Vicky come up with a plan to juice her up.

Umar is now back to her old self. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, she doesn't question how this is happening and frees Doc.

Doc quickly hurries to the doorway. He pushes Dormie through to Earth and the doorway snaps shut before any of the dykkors can follow.

Without the dykkors for support, it's just Doc and Dormie. The first thing Doc does is solidify the clouds so no one below can see the battle. Those below will feel the effects as all that power flying around causes some nasty weather. Gene gives us another clever panel layout as the two enemies engage.

The battle doesn't last very long. Doc starts attacking with air molecules that hit Dormie like steel-hard pellets. Yup, Doc is confident again. He has realized what is going on even if Dormie hasn't yet. Dormie repels the attack, but it thoroughly exhausts him. It's time for Doc to give the big reveal!

Yes, Dormie's oath (technically given twice in Strange Tales #127 and again in Strange Tales #141) is raining down on his head. Now we know Dormie's words are more than just words. Doc attempts to banish Dormie, but he manages to escape back to the Dark Dimension. Things have returned to the status quo. Doc returns to his Sanctum in yet another convenient magical bubble. The captions explain the bubble keeps him from being seen which is why the cloak alone won't do on this occasion.

So Doc re-enters the Sanctum through the walls! And who happens to be in the same room he materializes in? None other than Doc's former colleague, Doctor Benton. Benton dismisses the appearance as an illusion and offers Doc a job as a consultant so he "can be of service to humanity again." If only he knew the truth. Doc's a bit tired and asks if we can do this some other time. Benton gets frustrated and leaves angrily.

"As a surgeon you were greed personified and now you're playing Wizard of Oz!" Quite a statement. Watch out for this guy. We're not done with him yet.

The final panel gives us the first time the title Sorcerer Supreme is used. Even though the captions calls Doc this, he isn't yet. He won't officially get it for another five years. It also gives us an unpleasant fact about Doc's life. There's quite a bit of crushing loneliness. That may be about to change.

We wrap up the Domammu arc with a satisfying conclusion that weaves in threads to future stories to be picked up later. Gene Colan continues to demonstrate he is the right artist for this book and Roy understands the character better than at any time after the Lee/Ditko days. He is even giving Doc more depth and describing what the life of a master magician is like. Doc has grown beyond the cold and rude figure who exists merely to fight the forces the rest of us can't

[rueclfer]

omg 🙈 feeling nervous messaging u but I love ur fics so muchhh and was just wondering where h get ur ideas for fics cause I’m STRUGGLING out here

omg hiii !!! HEHE this is funny bc i just read your leather jackets + pizza fics last night and i lovelovelove your casual fics with touya sm!!

i think there's a lot of silly inspiration everywhere in the world and the hardest part about it is fleshing out a tiny crumb into an established idea!

this may be kinda backwards for some writers, but i'll center my fic-drafting around a line of dialogue/conversation/song lyric/phrase and then i'll come up with a trope/situation that i think would suit it after. if i hear or see ANYTHING that sounds like it could be interesting in a conversation, and i could picture a character saying it, i'll write it down in the notes and brainstorm a situation where a character could say that and it usually spirals from there.

for example: my touya fic "shut up, my moms calling" is actually the title of a song that i liked so i snagged it. that was my starting point and in my head i was like "yup this is a very touya line," so next step was finding context for it which is probably the hardest part bc there are many many options, but I knew that I wanted touya to say this line in kinda like an embarrassed way lmao like he was CAUGHT or something (bc i love making him out to be a loser hehe). so mix that with touya's personality and teenage rebellion, i came up with the whole sneaking out thing, which in my opinion makes a beautiful childhood friends x lovers trope.

definitely find what you love writing about and that'll help you find your "situations" too! i personally enjoy the tomfooleries of adolescence like school/university life, scrappy garage bands, parties, sneaking out into the city, rebellion, a lot of "first times," nervous touches, slight glances, unsure feelings, pent up emotions, etc etc.

my fics heavily rely on banter and dialogue as the driving force so i also think making smaus are the perfect warm up bc you're forced to create the atmosphere from pure dialogue :-))

OKAY sry this was soooooo long winded but i hope it helped <3

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Aww Mateo :((

Oh goshh 😭😭😭🥺 honeyy I'm so sorry D:

I'm sure he wouldn't hurt I'm just stressed he'll say something xdd

Aww love them <33

Yeah phew okay good not his place to share xdd just stressed

Poor honey 😭😭😭

And she snot returning his texts D:

Nancy honey I know you're scared but pushing people away won't help in the long run :((

Yeah that makes sense though <3 I agree with both sides

OOPE lol yeah maybe not necessarily what she meant lol xD

Gosh xD the sillies <33

Hey Owenn

How ya doin xdd

Ahhh Asha lol

So HR xD

Yepp lol just checking in, makes sense xD

True

Well none of you are traumatized from THAT

AHAA so it has happened before

:'OO oh gosh

Wow :(((

Ahhh yeah :(( D: - well those are out of order but yk lol

Boutta write that fic fr-

Also finally a mention of between the talk and Texas in episode 1 lol

Anyway :(( gosh Owen D:

Yeah are you okay honey :((?

Oop what?

Ahh yeah oop that 😳

Hmmm

:((( I'm sorry honey

It's just rough xd

Awww hey Nance 😭😭🥺❤️

You doin okay :((?

I mean I know you're not but xd

Gosh and that must be awful for her too 😭

OOP, :O HI TOMMY :'D

Ahhh lol :')

WAIT OH NO IS SHE GONNA HAVE BREAST CANCER O.O

Oh gosh xdd

Ah dang kinda kills your alibi there lol

How would she have figured that out though xd

Yeahh Mateo told her :'))

How did HE know lol

Anyway xD

Maybe location on her phone lol, or she did tell him that, idk xD

Awww honeyy :'(( 🥺 <33

Yeah, I totally see it :'))

Aaand yeahhh, that's totally accurate too x'D

Aww honey, yeah, exactly :'((( 😭❤️

Oh noo

Uhh ohhhh 😭🥺

Ohh NOOO gosh that sounds awful 😭😭

I'm so sorry Nancy DD:

Nahh she's gonna say it felt really long :((

Yeah it must've lasted forever 😭 (and been too quick at the same time)

Awww honey yeah definitely that's so awful :(((

Ohh yeah and that 😭😭😭🥺 she doesn't want Mateo to be in that position :'((( :')

To be fair he is an adult and you were 7 xdd it would still be awful but yk

AHH (awh not aah) AWWW HONEY 😭😭😭🥺🥺❤️

It'll be okay honey, no matter what, you've got people who got you <333

This just all sucks :'((((

I've got you Nancy ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥺😭

And once again GOSH the ACTING 😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺❤️🥰 I love her so much <3333

Oop?

Hmm it's gonna get stuck

Yup lol

Ahh is his hand gonna get stuck or something 😬😭

Ohh noo I'm scared

Yess it isss xddd

YEP there it is it's stuck 😭😭 goshhh I hate this

Please don't like rip it out or something xd

Ope hi lady :D

Ahh gosh xdd

Does she not find this suspicious lol?

Ah of course xdd

Ope 😬

Ohhh no he's gonna be there after they all leave 😭

MY GUY ASK FOR HELP

I know it's like a little bit embarrassing but dude 😭😭

Ohh noo

Sirrr I'm scared for you 😭 is it gonna like rip or something

I was scared at the beginning of a dislocation or something xdd

Hate watching stuff like that

OH YAYY :D

OH NOOOO DDD: 😳😳😬😭

Oh gosh xdd

Whyyy sir 😭😭

Hey guysss xdd

Oh phew somebody found him :'D

How long did it take though 😭😭😳

And just phew I'm just glad he's alive :'DD 🥰

Oh gosh still not looking good though 😬

Okay okay y'all got this :)

Ohhh noo D:

Oh gosh that's not good 😭 :(( D:

I think I have seen that in shows before :(

That so sucks bro 😭😭🥺💔

Awww and he doesn't really have anyone to call :(((

YEAH you're gonna do your best, but call someone just in case :'D

Yeahh her :'DD!!!

Awww cute 🥰🥰

No sir just in case o.o

Provide even her work number bestie and leave a message or something idk xdd

Uh ohhh 😬😬

Awww he asked Nancy to hold his hand 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭❤️🥰

Okay go y'all!!

Oh dang that was quick :O

Guess it makes sense it's not THAT heavy and there are a lot of them, and they're firefighters lol

Okay go go go go go!!!

YAYY things are improving :'DDD!!

Woohooo 🥰🥰🥳

Come on, be the miracle my guy :'))

Awww and Nancy talking to him :'D

Maybe that'll help ::)

Ohhh no D:

OHH NOOO STATS GOING DOWN

Ah crap 😭

And straight to defibrillation 😭😭😬

Awww Nancy having to let go of his hand :((( D:

C'monn c'monnnn

NOOOO he's gone isn't he 😭😭😭💔 :((

GOSHHH so mad 😭/sad for him :'(((

That poor guy D: 😭😭😭🥺💔

[the-white-soul]

Yup! You can call me Buttercup if that's better. Gosh, this world's me made a pretty big name for himself, huh. If it's going to be permenant, I don't like making myself known to more than a select few monsters, so I'm wondering what's the deal with that guy.

Toriel, maybe Alphys and Mettaton aren't the best choices to bring with us for settling things. *Flowey whispers so the neither person he's talking about can hear.* I don't think they'd be very likeable for most humans.

*now at a normal volume* On the other hand Papyrus, me, and you would be the best team for being convincing! *He looks away with a guilty look as he addresses Kara, fiddling with his petals.* Not that you aren’t pleasant too, Kara, it’s just… you and the rest would get scary and violent too fast. You all can still back us up if a peaceful appproach goes wrong.

The thing about having a soul is it makes me feel horrible with all that guilt. I want to avoid that feeling as much as possible, so let's try the best we can to resolve this before it gets bad.

(Kara) "Of course, I don't care who gets in as long as it's a good team. Papyrus, you, Buttercup, and Clover can go have a speech. Maybe that'll work, and if it gets violent, please tell me."

(Dess) "Maybe..."

(Kara) "No, you're the last person anyone wants to see besides us. Plus, I'm 90% sure Buttercup hates you."

(Dess) "I was going to ask if I could join in if things got rowdy."

(Kara) "Oh, sure." *It was dead silence for 5 seconds.*

(Kara) "First, we'll need a place to put up a stand. Do you have any places where you won't be harassed imminently?"

(Dess) "No."

(Kara) "Well, shit. Just go into the heart of London. You might all get more angry people, but it's the best way to tell who is good."

(Toriel) "I could make my famous butterscotch cinnamon pie."

(Kara) "Bad idea. We need to keep the casualties at a minimum. We're already taking a risk doing this in the first place."

(Toriel) "Wow, they are very well-spoken. You were right, Dess."

(Dess) "*Makes an angry and embarrassed face.* Don't bring that up."

(Kara) "Alright, let's start." *They walk up right next to the stand.*

(Kara) "Okay, you three, this is the most influential part of these monsters' lives. Do whatever you need."

(Random person #1) "Hey, I think those monsters are going to say something. One flower, one with a cowboy hat, and a skeleton with a weird shirt." *People gathered around*

(Kara whispers out of sight so no one can see) "Papyrus, you seem like the nicest. You go first."

(Papyrus) "Hello, humans, you've decided to be aggressive to us. I won't judge. Everyone can change."

(Random person #2) "Are you calling us wrong?"

(Papyrus) "No!"

(Kara) "You're supposed to say yes."

(Papyrus) "I mean, yes, of course it is. I can see great potential for friends all around here. Like this nice kid. What's your name?"

(Kid) "My name is..."

(Kid's Mom) "Shh, don't let his tricks fool you. He's probably trying to get your soul. Maybe he'll kill all of us if given it."

(Papyrus) "Oh no, I'm not that kind of monster. Actually, almost no monster is."

(Random person #2) "Then why did Asgore need 7 souls?"

(Papyrus) "To get across the barier."

(Random person #2) "That's probably just a lie to get more power than he needed."

(Kid) "Mom, can I please go up to the skellie."

(Mom's Kid) "He's manipulating my child. Get away!" (Papyrus) "Um, can one of you two take over?"

[nanenna]

“So,” Kon asked Tim the next day, “get anything on that star chart?”

“Not yet,” Tim said without looking up from his computer. “It was surprisingly thorough, so hopefully we'll get a hit soon. I'm worried he's from the other side of the galaxy or something, far enough away we don't have any local star charts.”

“That would make it hard,” Kon agreed with a sigh. “If that's the case, knowing a popular spec-fic show wouldn't help either.”

Tim shook his head. “Every bit of info you can get does help, just some more than others. But what I want to know is: what's this?” Tim looked up at Kon, pointing at where Danny had started writing.

“I think he was about to start labeling things, then suddenly gave up.”

Tim hummed as he squinted at the screen. “Well try to get his planet's name at least.”

“I think I can sneak that into a casual convo.” Kon knew exactly how he was going to sneak that in! It would be perfect!

☆☆☆

He watched another sunset with Danny, enjoying the wash of colors and the birds singing their goodnight before settling for the evening. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stop to watch a sunset before meeting Danny. It was nice to slow down and enjoy the scenery sometimes.

Once it was fully dark they laid out to stargaze again, Kon pointed out a few constellations and told Danny the stories behind them. “... and then of course that star there is Rao,” he said after talking about the constellation it was in.

“Rao?” Danny asked curiously, looking up at the star.

“Yup, it's the star my other home planet belonged to before it, you know… blew up.”

Danny turned his misty head to look at Kon incredulously. “Your other home planet?”

“Yeah, I was born here but,” Kon tried not to cringe, what he was about to say would feel really weird, “one of my parents is from there, from Krypton.”

“Oh, that's cool.” Danny smiled at Kon before turning his gaze back up. Kon expected him to be full of questions about Krypton blowing up, but it seemed Danny wasn't about to.

“I've never been to Krypton, it blew up before I was born.”

“That really sucks.”

Kon shrugged, he can't miss what he never knew. “What about your home planet? What's it called?”

Danny looked over and smirked. “Dirt.”

Kon sputtered, “Dirt?!”

Danny laughed and shifted to his side, half propped up to look over at Kon. “Read it in a sci-fi magazine once, since most people will name their home planet long before figuring planets out, usually it's just an old name for dirt.”

“What?” Kon was confused.

“What planet are we on now?”

“Earth.”

Danny laughed, “Exactly!”

“What? How does that,” Kon stopped. Earth was an old fashioned or poetic way of saying soil. Or as Danny put it: dirt. “Does Krypton mean dirt in Kryptonian?”

“I dunno, dude. You tell me.”

Kon huffed and let out a laugh. “Dirt!”

“Dirt,” Danny agreed as he lay back down.

☆☆☆

“Planet name's a bust, he said it just means dirt.”

“Most planet names do,” Tim said with a tired sigh.

“Is Krypton just dirt in old Kryptonian or something?”

“The most common element the mantle’s made of, actually. It'd be like if we renamed Earth to Iron. And then all that iron exploded and turned into radioactive ironite while hurtling through space.”

“I don't know how to feel about that. Hey! Wait, how do you know all that?”

Tim just gave Kon a Look™. “See if you can get a planetary system map.”

“You think that'll help?”

“I think it'll either confirm or deny a theory.”

☆☆☆

“Sunsets are nice and all, but I miss sunrises,” Danny commented as they watched yet another sunset.

Kon perked, “I can help with that. Probably.”

“Huh?”

Kon stepped closer, “If I can hold you I can take you to the sunrise.” Danny was only half there most of the time, Kon hadn't even attempted touching him aside from handing over the tablet.

Danny shrugged and stepped closer, allowing himself to be picked up. It was an odd sensation, like holding mist without the wet feeling but just as cold. A little more solid than mist, Danny still barely weighed anything though, truly not there in body at all.

“Okay, hold on tight.”

Danny did indeed hold on tight as Kon took off, heading directly for the sun. It was almost like watching time go backwards as Kon zoomed to the otherside of the planet, going from sunset to noon to early morning until they passed the sunrise altogether. In the gloom of early morning, when the eastern sky was only just starting to lighten, Kon looked around until he found a good spot.

Clear skies, out in the country, just the two of them and a fence to sit on as they watched the sky turn pink.

Danny ended up basking in the morning light once the sun was fully up. He looked peaceful, eyes closed and face turned heavenward.

Kon may have just made a problem for himself. How does he bring up planets if they aren't stargazing? Or worse, what if Danny starts showing up here instead of the farm?

Fuck it.

“Will you draw your planetary system for me?”

“Huh?”

“I'm just really curious, I think it'd be pretty cool to learn more about an alien planet and-”

Danny laughed, “No, it's okay, I get it. That was just outta left field is all. I wanna know about Rao's planetary system too.”

“Yeah, I think we can arrange that.” Kon pulled out his tablet, opened up the art program again, and told Danny to have at it. He started with a big yellow dot off to one side.

“Oh, a yellow star?”

“Yeah, it looks white from the ground but it's yellow. This won't be to scale, by the way.”

“Of course,” Kon agreed. Cosmic distances could be wild.

Danny went about putting smaller dots in a row away from his star, each one a different color. First was a dark red-brown, then yellow-orange, soft blue, bright red, a bunch of little brown dots, a big yellow-ish dot with a small red dot on the lower right… another big yellow-ish dot with white rings around it…

Kon frowned as a very familiar planetary system took shape. Two more big blue dots, then a final little white dot. That was quite the coincidence. Then Danny switched to a thin green tool and started writing in the same looping script he had before.

That didn’t say “The Sun” did it?

Kon frowned harder as no, despite how loopy and curly the letters were those looked like English letters spelling out the names of the planets in the system they were in right now.

Danny glanced up at Kon and smirked as he wrote “Dirt” under the little blue dot.

“What? But… but that’s where we are now.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda obvious you didn’t really put me on an alien planet. Not sure why you didn’t fix the sky, I gave you that star chart and everything. But it’s kinda fun listening to you make shit up though, so I don’t mind.”

“What? Danny? What are you talking about? Fix the sky?”

“It’s okay, Nocturn, I figured it out when you changed it to a sunrise. I thought this was just an NPC you put here to keep me company, I appreciate you spending so much time with me though.”

“Danny, who’s Nocturn?”

Danny glanced up at Kon with one of his soft smiles. No, not soft, indulgent. “Sure, okay, guess we’re still playing. Nocturn’s the ancient of dreams.” Danny looked back down, finishing giving names to all the planets.

Kon thought it was strange that the asteroid belt was called that but for some reason the Kuiper belt was labeled as just Pluto.

No, focus. What did it mean that Danny was from Earth but the stars were wrong? The stars wouldn’t have changed that much in even 100 years, so he can’t be from the distant past or anything. Hell, Orion was mapped out in antiquity. So Danny had to be from another Earth. An alternate timeline.

Fuuuuuuuck, this is what Tim needed confirmation of, isn’t it? Other planets they could handle, but other universes? They were definitely going to need to get help for this.

Danny handed the tablet over when he was done labeling everything. Kon saved it and sent it off to Tim, then pulled up planetary charts for Krypton, Tamaran, Rann, Thanagar, Ungara, and any other systems he could find. He handed the tablet over to Danny, who immediately began eagerly looking over them.

☆☆☆

“Kon.”

“I know, Tim. I figured it out.”

“I hate to bring in others too, but interdimensional travel isn’t exactly something we can do ourselves.”

Kon sighed, he was really hoping this would be one mission they didn’t have to involve others in. It was supposed to be a way for the Just Us team to get back together, it’d been a while since they could all hang out. “I know, but it doesn’t stop me from being disappointed.”

“Right, I guess the first thing we need is to contact JL about this so we can find a way to hunt down his home dimension.”

“Probably a JLD thing, since he’s astral projecting and all.”

Tim nodded, “Probably.”

DP x DC Prompt/Plotbunny #6

After days? weeks? months? years? in this mercy-forsaken lab, Danny finds himself slipping; his core straining under the weight of what he's been subjected to. In a last ditch effort to save his fracturing soul, his brain simply stops processing the pain and allows his mind to escape into a waking dream.

Danny knows it's a dream. If he thinks about it; he can still hear, see, feel the scientists at work. He doesn't think about it; instead embraces whatever false world his mind decides to concoct for him.

.

Several states away, a young boy opens his eyes to the inside of a strange pod in an abandoned lab. Though he cannot see it yet, a strange metal tag dangles from his ear, stamped on one side with the word 'CADMUS' and on the other with 'R-13'.

[hoagmaster]

May 24, 2024

The end of the work week was pretty quiet, which as I said last time is probably due to a bunch of people taking off. There were some graduations nearby that attracted some folks, but otherwise it looks like most of them around here are down now. Feels like it came and went pretty quickly.

Prepped some stuff for the side hustle next week and am going to see where I can pick up some more things with it. More work for my portfolio and experience and making more money to save up for something later this summer. Sounds good!

Then for games, you probably heard a big game with "paper" in the title dropped this week. Well, I cracked into it this evening. Yup, Paper Trail looks to have a wonderful presentation and is packing some neat puzzles early on. This might break my Balatro trance for a while!

Held the fort down in the evening because everyone is still scattered. That'll definitely change tomorrow, so I guess it's one more breather before things get busy.

On that note, it's a long weekend. Hope you enjoy yours!

[australian-cruise-group]

Ready For Some Reef-reshing Adventures in Cairns?

You might have heard about the precious natural wonders that grace our planet - the towering canyons, crystal-clear reefs, thundering waterfalls, and majestic peaks reaching towards the sky. These are not just places; they're nature's own masterpieces, and they're waiting for us to explore! Well, buckle up because we're about to dive headfirst into one of these wonders with the help of the famous Cairns Great Barrier Reef cruise! 

Excited Much? Let's take a Cairns cruise to explore the Great Barrier Reef and go on an adventure unlike any other. Nestled in the heart of tropical North Queensland, Cairns is literally the perfect gateway to one of the world's most breathtaking natural wonders - the mighty Great Barrier Reef. And to set sail into the turquoise waters is a chance that you should definitely seize!

Cairns has been a hot destination for a long time, luring in travel enthusiasts and wanderlusts from all over the world to escape to an ultimate chill spot with a laid-back vibe and seriously stunning coastal views. Though, Cairns wasn't always this hip vacation spot. In the late 1800s, it was a simple port for gold miners. Yup, you heard that right - gold miners! Fast forward to today, and Cairns has totally glowed up into a buzzing tourism hub with plenty to see and experience. Do you want to soak up the sun? Check! Dive into the sea? Check! Chase some really good adventure vibes? Double and triple-check! 

Now, let's talk about the real deal - The Cairns Great Barrier Reef Cruise, where you can literally embark on a dream-like cruise to explore the mighty Great Barrier Reef. You now have a golden chance to wind up with the turquoise waters, ocean vibes and the promise of epic adventures. An adventure that's off the charts - it's time to jump on board and hit up the outer barrier reef on a cruise! As you step aboard the vessel, you will instantly know you are in for a great show! You're greeted by a cozy and welcoming interior, with comfortable seating and panoramic ocean views stretching out before you. The ultimate VIP treatment awaits you, along with the gourmet meals that'll make your taste buds go 'wow'! Refreshing drinks to keep you cool under the tropical sun and entertainment that'll keep the whole family entertained for hours on end. And let me tell you, the excitement only ramps up from there! With snorkeling gear in hand, you can practically taste the anticipation as you wait for the moment to plunge into the crystal-clear waters. After all, how often have you just wanted to gaze out at this massive stretch of greenery blended in blue - the biggest coral reef system on the planet? Plenty, we bet! Stretching over 2,300 kilometers along the Queensland coast, the Great Barrier Reef is pure art - it's so enormous that astronauts can actually see it from space! Underneath, it isn't just a bunch of pretty corals or fishes swimming around. It's basically an entire underwater city bustling with life! There are thousands of different species of fish, coral, and all sorts of marine creatures. You can snorkel or dive in here, where you will be surrounded by these vibrant coral gardens in every color of the rainbow, with fish darting around you from everywhere! The silver lining? Don't be worried about safety because the cruise crew will have your back! But wait, it gets even better! From educational presentations about marine life to sipping sunset cocktails on the deck, every moment is a new adventure waiting to be uncovered. So, if you're ready to dive into the ultimate reef experience, hop aboard an outer barrier reef cruise from Cairns and get ready to make memories that'll last a lifetime!

[comicaurora]

Hey, Red, question to you more as a trope connoisseur than Aurora author (you just seem to be a good person to ask this, but I don't know if you have personal tumblr for that) can you give tips on how to foreshadow character's death without audience going "ah, he's going to die, I can stop caring about him and his character development"?

Character deaths are tricky that way. I don't think there's any one right way to do this, but if the question is "how do I make people care that a character is going to die", there are a bunch of options - and none of them can be done just by foreshadowing it.

Some of those options are:

SHOW US WHO CARES. Introduce us to this character's loved ones. Audiences feel things when characters feel things. If the doomed character talks about his offscreen loved ones to our hero and then bites it five minutes later, our only window into caring is the hero's reaction, and it tends to be rather subdued. If we instead have a broader swath of characters who care about the doomed character, and we see how ALL of them love this character and value him and the role he plays in their lives, the audience is going to like that status quo - and then when you start peppering in death flags, the audience is going to get very nervous. The feeling you want to inspire is "oh no, I hope he makes it!" In order for the audience to hope that, there has to be a tangible character-driven emotional anchor on that thought. "He says he has a sweetheart back home" is a tenuous emotional anchor if we've never met said sweetheart or if the extent of her characterization is "yup, that's his girlfriend all right". "His wife and kid said they were planning a birthday party for him, if he dies here he won't make it and they'll be devastated, I can literally see how it would play out with the little boy at the table and the candles burned down to almost nothing and the wife trying not to show how nervous she is but making more and more frantic phone calls as the sun sets outside-" is a much more impactful angle.

AND BE SPECIFIC. Most character deaths are accompanied by the other characters Being Sad. This is the bare minimum emotional reaction we expect. But we can make this a lot more effective if we show the specific shape of the hole this character's loss leaves in the survivor's lives. The cafe they always went to together, their annoying habit of barging in without knocking, the bad puns they fired off, their favorite chair to sit in. This is something you plant before they die, and then pay off after - like an emotional time-bomb. The more we see the specific role this character plays in the lives of the others, the worse it'll hurt to see how they carry on after. You can have a character catch themself waiting for a bad joke that'll never come, or watching the door knowing nobody's going to barge through, or avoiding that one cafe.

BALANCE THE BUILDUP. If the audience has enough time to accept that this character is straight-up doomed, they'll basically frontload the grieving process and the impact will be lost. If they get no buildup they might feel cheated and get mad at the author instead of staying immersed. For maximum emotional impact the audience needs enough time to start dreading the character death while still holding out hope until the last minute that the character will make it out. Sudden, random, unfair deaths may be realistic, but they draw attention to the hand of the author. Long, drawn-out, melodramatic deaths might give you more time to emotionally twist the knife, but they can also start to feel silly and contrived.

So basically I think to make a character death work, you need to plant what the doomed character means to the rest of the cast, what they'll miss when the doomed character is gone and how would it be better if they were still around. I think these three principles hold up when we use them to analyze noteworthy character deaths that were impactful versus ones that weren't.

For example, Maes Hughes:

What does he mean to the rest of the cast? He's a great husband and father whose primary character trait is annoying everyone around him by gushing about his wife and daughter. He annoys Mustang by being goofy and unprofessional at work, but they do get along quite well. He gives Ed and Al - and later Winry - a place to stay and a much-needed glimpse at a beautifully functional family with a genuinely good dad in it. His kindness and sense of humor are regularly remarked on.

What do they miss when he's gone? His wife and daughter miss his presence, natch. Ed, Al and Winry miss how he always made them feel welcome and took time out of his day to make sure they were all right. Roy Mustang is so devastated that he embarks on a multi-season quest for Hughes's killer.

How would it be better if he was still around? Well, he figures out the entire multi-season conspiracy in episode 11 and if he hadn't been immediately killed about it he probably could've gotten everything on track to being fixed significantly sooner with a lot less bloodshed. His wife and daughter would be happier, the main character squad wouldn't have been crushed with grief and guilt about feeling responsible for his death, and Mustang wouldn't have nearly lost himself to his vengeance thing. Lots of real, tangible improvements.

And for a contrasting example, Quicksilver in Age of Ultron:

What does he mean to the rest of the cast? He's a bad guy, then he changes his mind because Wanda changes her mind and he just goes with it.

What do they miss when he's gone? Wanda misses him existing because he's her brother and the only family she had left. Nobody else really ever talked to him. He quipped a couple times I think.

How would it be better if he was still around? My own headcanons aside, this is literally never discussed, not even in WandaVision when he temporarily shows up "recast." You'd think Wanda would've been more pissed about being given false hope over her dead brother returning.

So yea, this is far from comprehensive but I think that's about the gist of what I got.

[edgy-fish-boy]

@nibwhipdragon @ihittedpostlimt @midnighteraser

"That'll be $1.50, ma'am," Caesar said.

Caesar sighed in exasperation as he took another order from the next customer. Working at a McDonald's branch by the beach was such a hassle, despite prior experience as a hardworking employee who always had to deal with difficult customers at the different branches he had been stationed in for the many years he'd worked as a fast food cashier.

It had been barely a week since Caesar had begun work at the branch at the boardwalk, and already he was beginning to feel the frustration. The beach was full of tourists, sweaty, smelly tourists, lining up in soaked, stinking tank tops while he took payment after payment and passed one greasy meal after another.

It was a lousy job, and he dreaded it. But those bills weren't going to pay themselves.

"Next, please," Caesar yelled, yet, strangely, no one seemed to be in front of the counter.

"Down here, mister," answered a voice that seemed to be coming from the floor.

Caesar was perplexed. Was he hearing things? Had the 16-hour shift finally fried his poor exhausted brain?

"Hey!" demanded the voice. "Look down!"

Caesar complied.

It was a muscular man, who appeared to be shirtless, laying on the tiled floor of the restaurant. Sporting a messy mop of spiky brown hair, he glared up at him with a pair of blue green eyes, his dark, thick eyebrows scrunched into a frown.

"Uhhh...can I have a McDonalds fish burger?" demanded the prone stranger.

"Sir." Caesar blurted out at the unusual visitor. "Please stand up. We don't encourage customers to lay down on the floor. Please put on a shirt, too."

"I can't stand up!" snapped the customer. "And I don't own any shirts!"

"Sir, if you're not going to cooperate I will have to ask you to leave--"

Caesar paused mid-sentence as he realized just what he was looking at. The man had no legs. What he thought at first were shiny, glittery pants was in fact a tail. A big, scaly fish tail in place of his legs, a shining iridescent green that shifted to yellow in some angles and purple in others.

Caesar froze in surprise. He'd dealt with all sorts of customers before. Angry screaming Karens demanding the manager? Check. Stoners barging in at the last moment before closing time after getting the munchies? Check. Biker gangs getting into a brawl in the McDonalds parking lot? Check, double check.

But a mermaid?

"Y-you're a mermaid." Caesar stammered.

"Hey, hey, I'm a MERMAN, you dumbass!" retorted the fish-tailed customer.

"Oh, it's you," beamed Suzi, one of Caesar's co-workers, as she emerged from the kitchen with a tray of fries. "Didn't expect to see you so far away from the water."

"You know him?!" Caesar asked, baffled.

"Oh, yes, his name is Jojo," Suzi grinned back. "He's a bit of a local celebrity around these parts. Loves swimming with kids, sometimes crawls up the beach to take pictures and chat. I just haven't seen him so far inland before!"

Caesar huffed in resignment. This hadn't been part of the job description. He had witnessed a lot of strange sights in his long tour of duty as a fast food cashier, but having a magical storybook creature ordering as a customer was certainly a new one for him.

"You have a literal mermaid--"

"MERMAN!"

"-ah, right, merman, just casually hanging out at this beach?"

"Yup!" Suzi nodded, stacking a heap of fresh apple pies onto a tray.

"And everybody's...okay with this?"

"Yup!"

"Where's my order!?" Jojo demanded, smacking his tail irately against the floor.

"Alright, alright! I'm on it, sheesh!" Caesar groaned. What was the merman's order again? Ah, yes, the fish burger.

Wouldn't that be cannibalism? Caesar pondered to himself as he squeezed the garlic mayo onto the bun. He eats fish but its half fish himself?

I guess big fish do eat small fish, and people eat fish, Caesar silently concluded. Since he was 50% people and 50% big fish, Caesar assuned he probably had twice the right to eat fish. Maybe.

"That will be $1.00 without drinks. Should I add a drink to your order?"

"I'm half fish, I don't drink."

Right. He lived in the ocean.

"Again, sir, that would be $1.00."

To Caesar's complete surprise, however, the webbed hand that reached up to the counter deposited not coins nor bills, but a collection of small seashells.

"What is that?"

"My payment. Now give my my fish burger."

This wasn't even in the guidebook. Caesar decided it probably needed updating to cover "foreign currency" by aquatic fish people.

"Sir, we only accept cash or credit. We don't take...seashells as payment."

"Do you know how far I crawled just for that burger?!" the merman yelled, pounding his fists and tail against the floor. "I just want a burger, dammit!"

"If you're going to start a scene, I advise you to leave!" Caesar demanded, pointing at the door. "You've caused enough trouble for--"

Caesar was suddenly interrupted by Suzi, who grabbed the fish burger in the paper bag and handed it to the merman.

"Suzi, what are you--"

"Shhh! Just--just let him have it, Caesar." She turned to face the merman. "Enjoy your meal, sir!" She waved at him, and gingerly scooped up the shells off the counter and handed them to Caesar.

"Well, that was harder than it should have been!" Jojo grumbled. "And to that, I bid you, good day! Hmph!"

He grabbed the paper bag between his teeth and began to crawl back out through the door, his wet, shiny tail sliding behind him as he pulled himself out of sight, leaving a slick trail in his wake.

"Suzi, hand me the mop, please," he pleaded. "If anyone slips on this mess we'll both get in trouble.

"Sure. And here, don't forget your seashells!"

Caesar stared in confused bafflement at the shells. These wouldn't pay his bills, would they? He doubted the phone company would accept marine currency.

Caesar groaned, as he mopped the slippery trail the merman left behind. He glanced out the glass window of the restaurant, and saw that the trail had continued out across the front porch, through the parking lot, across the boardwalk, through the beach and finally into the sea.

It was a long trip, indeed. But not THAT long.

And Caesar had a sinking feeling this wouldn't be the last time he would be seeing this fish-tailed customer pay them a visit.

Hopefully he has proper cash next time.

mermaid joseph dragging himself into a mcdonalds and leaving a wet trail on the floor. he wants the fish burger

i will draw all of those someday