#anyway i just saw him on tv with his wife at the supper so looks like it's all good now

[carnasnow]

Lmao not Pierre Poilièvre complaining that he didn't get an invite and Justin having to tell him that he sent him an email, he just had to check it

[midnightorchids]

More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.

I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing! Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.

I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.

He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!

I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.

He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.

Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.

He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.

If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.

Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.

[allisonreader]

Midnight Musings Over Losing My Grandma and Grandmother Figure

I lost my grandmother figure during this quarantine time period...

She did not directly die because of Covid-19. She died from a massive stroke at the age of 92.

My mom believes that it was partly because she was lonely. She was an incredibly social woman, who had a big heart and was intensely family oriented......

I only knew one of my grandmothers.

My maternal grandmother died of breast cancer when my mom was 21.

My paternal grandmother died from lung cancer when I was 14. After a lifetime of smoking and working in a factory with asbestos.

We weren’t close and the only real memories I have of her, is of our last hug, (long and awkward, only happening because she knew her time was coming to an end), the other being one rare time when she and my grandpa came to visit and she bought me gloves and being in my grandparents kitchen and spitting out the red Koolaid that my grandma made because the water where they lived tasted horrible.

It’s sad to say, but I do not miss her.

The only tears I really shed were almost forced, because it should be sad that my grandmother died? Isn’t it?

I ended up wearing a pale pink dress to her funeral, since my mom forgot to bring a black shirt and ended up stealing mine.

I felt very odd wearing pink to a funeral, but it was the only other formal thing I had since we live hours away from my grandparents.

Anyways, a bit off point there vaguely as that’s just to show that I truly didn’t have the best grandmother.

Now my grandmother figure on the other hand, was the epitome of what you think of a grandmother. Loving, nurturing, caring and overall a wonderful lady.

I honestly believe I have MORE memories of her, and better ones.

When I got the news of her stroke, I cried. I cried more than I did at my grandma's funeral.

I, like so many other people during this time, do not get to go to a funeral or a memorial for my loved one.

And I very much loved her as the grandmother I never had.

I had always expected to get to go to her funeral. And as macabre as it might sound, I looked forward to her funeral.

Not in the way that I wanted her dead, but that I would get to be there as we one day remembered her life and took comfort in the fact that she is with the Lord now.

I had half hoped that she would have lived long enough for me to invite her to see me get married one day, which certainly won’t happen now.

My grandmother figure, who I'm going to call Granny from here on out, while not directly related, is related through marriage.

Granny was my one uncle's mother-in-law. My mom’s, brother’s, wife’s mother. My cousins' grandmother.

She was always around my uncle and aunt's place during holidays and just in general. I probably saw more of Granny than I did of my grandmother.

Two of my favourite memories, and two of the strongest of her, are of a long hug where she told me that she loved me.

It was a just in case we don’t see each other in this life again hug.

It, I believe, was not the last time we saw each other, but it was so different from the same type of hug my own grandmother gave me. This one I didn’t want to leave and during the hug I soaked it up and enjoyed it.

Even just writing about it, I had to stop and cry. My throat is still tight with tears wanting to break free.

The other memory that means so much to me, is the most grandmotherly experience I have ever had, and I’m ready to cry again.

....

I had to take a short break to sort of get my emotions a little more under control again.

What had happened is that I had take my mom to the hospital in the city that Granny lived in, because of a doctor with a specialty that was only offered there in the province.

So, before I went home, I got to go have lunch with Granny, my cousin and her cousin. In total there were four of us.

Granny, her two official granddaughters and me, an unofficial granddaughter.

It was a wonderful Friday lunch, a meal more reminiscent of something I’d eat for supper than lunch unless it was leftovers.

We sat and we talked and it was absolutely amazing.

She offered us seconds; and to me, it felt like something straight off of tv.

Before we all left, she made sure to give us each a hug.

Not once do I remember my grandmother ever taking the amount of time or effort to have such a pleasant meal together.

I have always seen Granny as more of a grandmother as she always treated us as grandkids. She was always happy to see us and it was always clear that, that was the case.

Her husband has been gone for many years, over 20, and while I don’t remember him much, he was much the same way she was.

His is vaguely the first funeral I remember going to.

In a way, that stings a little.

I can vaguely remember being at his funeral, it being before my brothers were born, but I won’t get to go to a funeral for Granny.

....

This past April was a bit of a hard month.

First I had the what felt like a near death snow spin out and nearly a week later I got the news about Granny’s stroke and then her passing the next day.

The news of the day stroke breaking on Easter Sunday.

I will always remember Granny fondly and with all the love that she shared with me and my family.

She was a blessing and someone I can’t thank God enough for putting in our lives to show us the love and the way grandmothers should be.

[ask-joyce-byers]

#40 please!

1962 | 1967

{45 OTP Prompts: “I want a baby.”, and Drabble Prompt List: “I’m pregnant.”}

Christmas, 1962

The everlasting mismanagement of the NYPD meant that half of the deputies promised off on Christmas day had to work after all, and those who had volunteered to walk their beat despite the snowfall and the forfeit comfort and joy got sent home early to spend time with their families. As it was, Jim Hopper received no especial privileges despite his having requested off to spend the day with his wife. You don’t have kids, was the consensus. The deputies with kids got preference to go home and see their progeny, whereas if you had decided not to reproduce or were just otherwise unlucky, you got to work same as any other day. Nevermind the fact that Hutchinson got sent home, and he and his old lady were far beyond the kid-having age. Andrews and Williard too, both of them empty-nesters.

“Damn unfair,” Hopper muttered to himself, stamping through the snow that night, frozen to the bone, icicles having formed in the ends of his hair, stabbing him in the back of the neck and making his eyebrows so he could see them if he looked sharply up. “Diane? I’m home.”

"Merry Christmas, baby,” Diane beamed, a vision in her bright red sweater, blonde hair curled in loose waves, bangs full and just shading her blushing face. The warmth of the apartment’s interior hit him like a heavy quilt, and he let out a long breath, reaching for her and pulling her into a hug against his snowy coat despite her squeal and helpless attempts to swat him away.

“You’ll get me wet! This is cashmere!”

“Cashmere? Really…” He ogled, hands finding her waist, smoothing there as she pecked him on the cheek and twisted away.

“Food first. Then presents, then -”

“Sleep,” Hopper groaned, and Diane pursed her lips.

“If you say so.”

“Unless you had other ideas.” His level of alertness was immediately heightened.

“Food first,” she reiterated, all but dragging him into the kitchen where a modest, but fragrant ham sat, resplendent in its roaster, bordered in seasoned potatoes and bright greens. “And for dessert-” She gestured to the oven and he bent, cracking open the door to reveal a good deal of indistinguishable shadow and the unmistakable scent of apple pie.

“You’re an angel,” Hopper proclaimed, hugging her to him again, and this time she let him as he pressed a resounding kiss to her rosy lips and dragged a freezing hand through her soft hair. “Lemme go get cleaned up.”

“Please,” Diane grinned, and while he rummaged and recuperated, splashed and stomped, she arranged the presents on the small kitchen table, crowned with the bright Christmas tablecloth and overhung with fake evergreen swags. Little things, they weren’t living on big money here, but he was home from overseas, they had their own place, and it was time to start enjoying the little things in life. One present in particular, very light and thin, she placed in the forefront.

Supper enjoyed, one and two word answers to her questions sufficing to explain that the food was too good for conversation, Diane slowly inched the envelope towards him.

“Open this one first.”

“Why don’t you open one of mine? The little square one.” A bracelet, something he’d picked out with help from Mrs. Hutchinson, as he had about as much idea what to get a lady as a grizzly bear knew how to pitch a tent. He was keen to see if he’d hit the mark.

“Open mine first. You’ll like it.”

“Will I?” Tearing into the envelope with impish impetuosity, he pulled out a simple card made of folded stock paper, drawn all over in different colored ink and the curly message OPEN ME. Lifting a brow, Hopper did so and saw, in stark contrast to the elaborate outer portion of the card, the inside was blank save for one, short sentence.

I want a baby.

Blue eyes looked up at Diane, and then back to the card, and then back to Diane, the muscles in his jaw working as he strove to work out an appropriate answer.

Yes. Yes. Right now.

“You want a baby,” was all he managed to echo, voice sounding strange even to his own ears. “You don’t wanna wait another year -”

“Way I see it, we’ve done enough waiting.” Nam. It hadn’t seemed like waiting to him, it had been war, it had been hell, but back home, to Diane it had to have seemed like decades.

“You, ah….” He licked his lips, meeting her gaze at last. “You wanna start workin’ on that now?”

“You don’t want to finish presents first?”

“They get better than this?”

He stood, leaning across the table to capture her lips. The way she slowed into the kiss, her breath catching, fluttering against his skin, his hand going up to cup her cheek, and suddenly the fact that her sweater was cashmere didn’t matter at all, he just wanted it off. On the table, in the floor, anywhere not on her.

A baby. With blue eyes and blonde hair, just like Diane, perfect in every way.

Come September, he was reminding her of that, telling her his dream, their dream as he drove her to the hospital, her breath fast and ragged, forehead beaded with sweat, clenching his hand in a vice-like grip.

“Some Christmas present, huh,” he made the mistake of commenting, turning to her with a forced smile, and she tore her hand away at that.

“Just drive, James.”

James. Ah, he was in trouble, then. She never used his real name unless she was upset at him, or on other very, very special occasions. One like the one that had tears starting to his eyes some hours later as the nurses placed a very small bundle of pink blanket into his arms, tiny breaths shuddering her little body against him, eyes murky and blinking, looking into his own.

“Hey, little one,” he managed, voice hoarse. “Hey, baby girl. What’re you lookin’ at, huh. Big scary man? I’m your dad, little one. Your dad.”

“She’s beautiful, James,” Diane breathed, and reached for him, taking his hand, a faint smile tugging her lips. “Some Christmas present.”

__________________________________

January, 1967

Joyce pressed her eyes shut at the approach of footsteps outside the bathroom and steeled herself for the verbal onslaught. You’re taking fucking forever, what kind of issue do you have, locking yourself in there for hours at a time, hogging the entire goddamn bathroom because god forbid anyone else in this house have to take a piss while you’re in there doing your hair or whatever shit -

“Almost finished,” she called, not waiting this time, hearing his impatient breath on the other side of the door. “You should just go without me.”

“You’re coming with me. I’m meeting a potential agent, and I don’t wanna look like a fool who couldn’t get his wife to go and be social.”

“What kinda agent is this now?” Joyce managed, voice thin, fighting off another wave of nausea and hardly daring to look at the typed report on the counter, courtesy of the doctor’s office in Larrabee. If only there was some simple way of doing the same tests they did there from home, of checking this yourself, then one could avoid the embarrassment, the exertion, the expense…

She’d demanded a copy of the lab report anyway, and irritated, the girl with red nails had typed it up for her and yanked it from the typewriter. It was only because Joyce had proudly gotten an A in biology that she even knew the significance of hGC at all. Why the x-ed out upper-case H irritated her so much before the proper typing of the lab result was something that even good grades could not explain.

“Joyce.” The doorknob rattled and she grit her teeth against the jolt it gave her pulse. She’d locked it; short of forcing the door, he wasn’t coming in, though that had happened before. “Hurry the fuck up. What in the hell is taking -”

“Lonnie, I’m sick. I don’t wanna go.”

“Did you go to the doctor?”

“Yes.”

“What’d they say?”

“That I’m sick.”

More muttered curses. “Of course they did. Tryin’ to get money from you, they’re never gonna turn someone away and say you’re fine now, are they. Use your head, Joyce. You’ve been sick for days, I’m done with your damn excuses.”

“Lonnie.” Joyce steeled herself, eyes pressed shut from her seat on the edge of the tub. “Go to your meeting. I’ll see you later.”

“And leave you to sleep or watch TV while I work to get the pro-ball career that I’ve been after for years? No, you’re comin’. If I have to do this, so do you.” As if she didn’t spend entire weeks working at Melvald’s and coming home to an empty house, cooking actual food every night anyway on the off chance he should come home from whatever dive bar he was in this time, networking and schmoozing, all so he could have the pro-ball career he insisted was still coming to him. As if anyone else paid the bills to this house, as if he’d ever done a single thing for her other than order her around and wear her on his arm like some kind of gaudy watch.

The last jibe had her on her feet, steadying herself and yanking open the door, letting the full effect of her appearance sink in. Dark hair tumbled, face paler than a ghost, she simply stood there and met his eye for a long moment, before thrusting the typed paper towards him. Brow lowering, he grappled it and fumbled it open, peering in the shadow of the corridor before pushing past her into the bathroom to use the light of the high-set window.

“The hell is this?”

“My report from the doctor.”

“Did you get an A,” he jeered, and Joyce didn’t even bother responding, waiting for him to peruse the typed lines and thrust it back at her.  “What’s that supposed to mean anyway. You dying? You have cancer?” Is it gonna be expensive, she could all but hear the unspoken accusation.

“There.” She poked the corrected hGH line, the reading stating simply P. Positive.

“Okay?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Lonnie’s response was immediate, a muttered curse, a long scrutinizing look toward her midsection, and then an accusatory stare at the paper. As if he didn’t trust it.

“And how’s that supposed to prove anything?”

“It’s a hormone,” Joyce explained wearily. “You either have it in your blood or you don’t, and I did.”

“And that means you’re pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, Lonnie, that’s how it works. I’ve been throwing up, feeling awful -”

“This is it, then.” He flung the paper to the bathroom counter. “The gig’s up. How’d this happen?”

She didn’t even bother asking what he meant by the gig being up, he meant, however he decided to express it, that he had to face responsibility now. To at least be present, if not contribute. Somehow she doubted that was gonna happen.

“I figure it happened one of those times you came home drunk,” Joyce drawled and Lonnie fixed her with a warning glare.

“You’re blamin’ this on me?”

“You’re the one running the show when that kind of thing happens, so yeah, I’m blaming it on you.”

The sound of a resounding slap, skin on skin echoed through the hollow of the bathroom, and in the mirror, Joyce saw her own cheek flare red.

“This is your deal,” Lonnie threatened, voice low. “You deal with this, and it better not put you out of a job. That’s all we got until I can land this gig, and this better not derail the whole fucking plan.”

“’S not gonna derail anything,” Joyce mumbled, and her hand, instead of going to her cheek, went to her middle. As if by his blow he’d insulted not her, but one innocent in all of this. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“You better. Lay down, I guess.” The nicety flung over the shoulder was all she got as he made for the front door and grabbed his coat. “I’ll make some kind of excuse for you.”

“Thanks,” Joyce muttered, her voice barely audible as she made her way gingerly to the couch and curled up there.

“And Joyce?” His voice, calling back through the cold air of the open door had her lift her head. “If it’s a boy he’s gonna learn to play ball.”

Then the door slammed, and she was left in quiet. Some say that when you bring a kid into a marriage, it can serve as a saving grace in the eleventh hour, bringing couples back together again. But in that moment Joyce Byers was never more sure – that one day, as soon as she could save up enough money, pay off the house herself and get it transferred to her name – one day,  this was going to be her home, her life. Hers, and the tiny life inside her. And if he didn’t want to play baseball, she wasn’t going to make him play goddamn baseball.

[rydenstories]

I found a journal in my hotel room

REDDIT

My girlfriend and I are just finishing up road tripping around the US, seeing concerts, attending festivals, visiting landmarks, etc. As you can imagine, we've seen a ton. It's been great, but by the time we started our long journey back to our home state, the trip had taken a lot out of us. Not just physical exhaustion, we'd nearly drained our savings for the trip as well. The plan had always been to drive straight through, taking turns at the wheel while the other slept. With tension rising as time passed, the plan quickly changed and we looked for the cheapest (but still nicest) hotel we could find.

Later, we found ourselves pulling up to the building directly next to the highway that would be our haven for the night; a cheap chain hotel with a bright sign that read "NIGHTLY $4O, WEEKLY $200" and a giant parking lot nearly packed full of semi-trucks. There are two more hotels on the same side of the highway underpass similar to this, two gas stations, and a fast food restaurant. The crowning feature of this small area, however, is a goliath stone cross that almost looms from the other side of the highway. It towers over everything, including the church that stands behind it and is illuminated by two bright white spotlights. To be truthful with you, this SOUNDS very odd when typed out but after weeks of driving past countless places like this, it's all just something I've come to shrug off as very mid-west.

The lobby wasn't packed like the parking lot, but there were more people wandering around the main floor than I'm used to seeing in near any hotel. Mostly gentlemen, reading books, eating cup noodle, watching the news, and chatting joyfully. It actually kind of reminded me of living in the dorms during college. Very friendly environment. I found myself surprised at how just... nice everything was for how not nice you'd expect it to be, you know? Still, we didn't really pause to reflect on that before checking in and quickly rushing to our room. My girlfriend did a quick check of her side of the bed and was asleep within minutes, but even with how tired I felt, I couldn't bring myself to go to bed so early and decided to check over the entire room.

Fairly clean. Carpet was really new, too. Not bad for the price. I sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling satisfied enough. Still, I pulled out the nightstand drawer, more-so to satisfy my curiosity about hotel bibles than anything else. Instead, there is this dark blue composition notebook. I've been reading it for a little while now.

It seems to be a journal, with many of the entries summing up the mostly uneventful days of the writer, a truck driver with a wife named Lynae. The writing itself is really messy and although I can tell that the author is deeply thought and well spoken, many of the larger words are spelled phonetically; smart, just not book smart. The journal is really full and some of the earlier entries are really interesting, detailing run-ins with hitchhikers and feuds with other drivers. The entries stop very abruptly and the last few are particularly unsettling. I can't be entirely sure, but I think those were written in this room. These are the last few entries. I've copied them down and done corrections to make it overall more legible, but otherwise I haven't changed anything.

___________________________________________

July 27th The money is in and it is good! I knew Bone would come through for me on that last haul. Now I just gotta get the rig back home! I'm glad I finally have the money to stop and rest in a real bed, too. The old cabin just ain't as comfortable as it used to be. Maybe that's what I'll be fixing next! I called Lynae and let her know I was coming home and she near squealed over the phone. I'm thinking now's the time to get her that pretty ring. Anyway, I saw Monty again today and asked if he was gonna return my MP3 player but he just kind of shrugged me off. It was pretty damn rude, actually. Knew his parents didn't teach him manners. He just got up in his truck, wasn't even gonna stick around. Weird actually, he almost always sacks up for the night, doesn't like driving after dark. Oh well, hope he enjoys a nice night drive! All over nothing!

Anyway, seems time to hit the hay! I'll be headed out tomorrow morning and I'll hopefully be home for supper!

July 28th Woke up this morning with the worst kind of headache. You know the kind that stings behind the eyes, burns your nose? Awful. Soon as I got out of the bed, the nausea hits. Damn it! Happens after every long haul; I get some bug off some dirty oldie who ain't never heard of antibacterial soap and I have to sleep it off in some crummy hotel. Fucking figures. Anyway. Seems like this place is much less crowded than last night and near all of the fellas that are here are total strangers to me. I wandered around a little bit, went to the lobby and grabbed some good stuff from the snack machines. Hung out for a few minutes, too, but instead of the normal circulation of news and talk TV, the counter girl was watching some weird black and white film. I ended up just going back to my room, throwing up a little, and getting some sleep. I napped until now, which it's pretty late. I'm getting 1 AM on my room's alarm clock.

I went downstairs to grab some clean clothes from my rig and smoke a cigarette but the front and side doors of the building were locked. I didn't see any employees around though, so I figure they're on their late night break. I hung out down there for a while and waited for someone to come open it but gave up eventually. If I'm being honest, I was feeling a little uncomfortable. It was too damn quiet. Plus, that church changed the lights shining on that giant cross. They're red. What a weird color for a church to pick. I don't know, maybe the fever is just making me loopy and paranoid. I better try to get some more sleep.

July 29th When I woke up this morning, the alarm clock said it was already well past noon. I thought it couldn't have been right because it was still pitch black in my room, no light shining through the open curtains at all. I got up and sure enough, it was still pitch black outside. So I figured my clock was broken. I guess the fever's got me feeling more and more irritable since I got here, otherwise I don't think I would've even brought it up let alone complained, but I yanked the cord from the wall and left my room.

The lobby was still empty, door still locked, and no employees in sight. I rang the little bell on the counter but nobody came. Hell, I waited in that lobby for a damn hour and nobody came! I'm starting to feel worse, too. My head is pounding so hard and I can't get any damn medicine since I've searched high and low for an unlocked exit and found not a single one. I don't really have any choice except to lay down and rest. Tried to watch TV, but all it's pulling is the weather channel and black & white movies, so I guess I've been watching the weather channel for a couple hours now. I'm going to try to rest more.

Oh. By the time I turned on the weather channel, it was saying it was 2 PM. The clock for sure was not wrong, but I have yet to see any sign of the sun.

August 2nd It's still dark outside and according to the weather channel's date, I'm missing some days. My head is so foggy that if I didn't remember at least a little from the other day, I don't think I'd question the initial notion that I just... slept through it from being so damn sick! I'm not sure that's what this is anymore. I'm not sure what this is at all anymore and frankly, I'm scared as shit.

The bit I can remember is only a small sliver of time. I got up and near shit my pants when I saw that not only was the alarm clock plugged back in, the damn thing was set again. I remember checking the door to find that the privacy lock was sure enough in place. Unlocked it and I swung open the door but then it all goes blank after that. Now I'm here and it's more than a day later and there's some kind of music coming from somewhere. Searched for it but found nothing.

As for the cross, they turned the lights off all together. I went up to the fourth floor to get a good look outside. Seems like everyone just left... All the haulers.... Gas station attendants.... Highway drivers.... Everyone. My rig is the only one in the parking lot. I'm beyond scared... I could break out but I'm so weak.

Aug 3rd My door was open when I woke up. All the doors to all the rooms are open. People's things are sitting around but there are no people. I've stopped pretending that this is normal. Something is so fucking wrong here and I can't even find a single clue as to what's happening or why it's just me. I've slammed my whole body weight into doors, searched high and low for keys or any damn thing that might help me get out of here. Nothing. It doesn't even seem like there's a world out there anymore. Like something just picked the hotel up, emptied all the people out besides me, and let darkness swallow the rest of it up. I can't see anything beyond the parking lot. Somewhere out in the vastness, though, I can hear that music from yesterday. It's something low, with a lady's voice singing over a very slow and out of key piano. She sounds sad but I can't make out what she's actually saying. I think I would be more concerned if the noise itself didn't make my headache so much worse. Instead, I just feel angry.

[[The entries no longer have dates after this and I can only assume they are each separated by at least a day just due to the previous writing pattern, but who knows.]]

xxxx I've spent a lot of time wandering around the hotel. At first, I tried closing all the tenant doors again. It made me uncomfortable to see them that way, but as soon as I'd hear the latch and I'd turn away, they'd loudly swing open again. Scared me shitless, as you can imagine. Then, after a couple more times, pissed me off. Even despite my fucking throbbing headache, all of the rage within my chest spilled out of my throat in a torrent of screams. As you probably could guess. My screams haven't received a response beyond that same sad song that only gets closer. Or louder. I don't know.

I've started searching through the rooms. Going through people's things. I wonder where they are. Did they get to leave? Or did they go somewhere else? I'm still not sure. Does it even matter? Things are getting worse for me regardless what happened to them. 

xxxxx The parking lot is gone. It seems like the closer the darkness creeps towards this place, the worse my headaches get. I've tried to move to a higher room to get away from the darkness, but then I wake up back in my original room again. The weather doesn't play anymore, but the black and white film channel does. I've tried to sit down and watch it, but after a couple minutes, it ends up being far too painful. I can't... describe the pain. It's everywhere. It's in everything, god damn it.

xxxxxx First floor is gone. The cross is back though. It's illuminated in that same strange red light, taunting me from out in the darkness.

I've been through every inch of this damn place, trying to find some kind of haven away from this madness. I tried to go downstairs at one point. Into the darkness. My ears are bleeding now but I made it back to my room in one piece. 

xxxxxxx Oh god. Dear Jesus Christ. Her singing is now screaming. The piano is grating. I wanna go home.

xxxxxxxxx I think this very well might be it. If you'd believe it, the higher floors went before this one, making it damn clear that this has always been coming down to me. It's been coming for me since I got here. I think even Monty could sense it.

Despite having every light in the room on, as well as every single one I could steal from this floor, it just keeps on growing dimmer. The girl. She's not screaming anymore. She doesn't need to scream. She knows I hear her. It's like she's right over my fucking shoulder, whispering right in my ear. And just like that, someone is knocking on the door. Darkness is seeping underneath like black smoke and I know I don't need to answer. It's creeping over the pages, up my arms, shoulders, face, and into my mouth.

Lynae, I'll miss you. ___________________________________________

I'm really.... shocked. It could easily be.... anything..... but something between the too comfortable vibe in the lobby, the handwriting, and the overall feeling I've had since picking the journal up absolutely tells me that there's something to this. Now that I've got it all copied down, I'm getting my girlfriend up. We're taking this journal down to the front desk. God fucking willing, we're leaving as soon as we can.

[puddinglem0n]

Is It Still Raining? - CH.1

"Scott Shelby is dead."

All the news had reported that the dangerous Origami Killer died on a stormy night where the brave FBI agent, Norman Jayden, knocked him down from a platform and his body has been crushed in seconds, leaving no traces other than blood that was quickly washed away by the rain. The police and the court acquitted Ethan Mars after he was the main suspect of killing and kidnapping children, an inadmissible mistake, and that the judge in charge of the case personally apologized to the man and assured him that nothing like this would ever happen to him again.

Things were getting back to normal.

Madison and Ethan were together for some time after the incident, but the chemistry and issues were fated and the two decided only to remain good friends, which left Ethan surprised. He did not expect the relationship to end without storms as it did with his ex-wife. Shaun was slow to get used to the idea but was happy to have a mother figure nearby.

Susan on the other hand kept thinking about everything Scott had said and done for her. Having protected, having reassured her and all that lie about feeling a lot about her child... "How could he?" was what she asked herself every day before going to bed. Cigarettes and drinks no longer consoled her, taking her own life was out of the question so she turned all her attention to her job and taking care of the baby. It was the right thing to do.

The snow returned shy, with Christmas approaching the shops already adorning the facades and the families could walk more calmly knowing that their children would not suffer any attack (at least in potential) and buy the preparations for supper and the gifts so awaited. Ethan had recently returned to work in architecture so his first salary arrived perfectly as the date approached. He woke up early and prepared breakfast, just as Madison had taught him. Cooking was not his talent but the journalist was a good teacher. He opened the bedroom door slowly, Shaun was still sleeping so he waited for the boy to wake up before going out shopping.

The snow had made a good layer on the roofs of the houses and it was a very beautiful view of the apartment so Ethan decided to pull a chair near the window and enjoy the view with a cup of coffee.

"The view from above must be more beautiful, isn't it, Jason?" He whispered with a calm smile, having a little coffee.

"Your brother doesn't like snow at all, but we'll try to make him change his mind."

He felt a hand touch his shoulder and when he turned it was Shaun, still sleepy. "Good morning, dad..."

"Shaun! Good morning!" He got up slowly and put his hand on the boy's hair "I didn't think you were going to wake up any time soon!"

"I promised Madison that I would not stay late to watch TV..."

"Oh, so you two have been talking a lot, haven't you? Anyway, I'm glad you're going to bed earlier, so you can enjoy more of this week..." He took the chair and put it back in the kitchen. "Come on, I made breakfast! Pancakes with chantilly the way you like it!"

"Yay!" Shaun smiled with a sleepy look, sitting on the chair and picking up the cutlery to eat. "Are we going to buy the gifts?"

"Buy? I thought Santa Claus would deliver it to our house...?"

"Daaad..." Shaun said a little angrily, turning to Ethan. "I know Santa Claus doesn't exist, I'm not 5 years old anymore!"

"Can't we even pretend?" Ethan held his laugh, crossing his arms.

Shaun only breathed and ate again, while his father approached the table smiling.

"Since that's how it is... Yes, let's buy some decorations and some gifts..." Ethan stopped in the middle of his speech as if to avoid speaking a certain name, and Shaun quickly noticed.

"What was it, dad?"

"Ah... I just..." He sat down and scratched his head. "I don't know... Do you know the man who was there that day...? That saved y... Has saved us?"

"Uh..." The boy leaned on the chair and stood on his face on the table, paying attention. "The FBI agent?"

"Yes, the FBI agent." Ethan crossed his arms. "What do you think of us inviting him to our Christmas supper? Of course, Madison too."

Shaun opened his eyes and quickly changed posture, the excitement clearly drawn on his face.

"An FBI guy at our home?!? This will be the coolest Christmas ever!" The boy shook his legs and waved several times to encourage his father.

"I'm glad you like the idea, I wouldn't do it without knowing how you feel... Of course, we don't know Mr. Jayden that much, but..."

He was interrupted by Shaun who soon ran to the bathroom to get ready for the ride, making Ethan melt his heart.

Norman arrived at the police station with an umbrella and a cappuccino in hand, a little quieter than normal. With the end of rain and snow appearing his nerves had significantly relaxed, and his willingness to work nearly doubled. He could have returned to Washington, but asked desperately that he might settle in Philadelphia. He didn't know or understand why, but that city created some feeling in him... Not by people (God, never), but by the history, he built there in such a short time. It was peculiar and exciting. Quiet and scary in a way. It looked like a soft wine with pizza, something you wouldn't usually match but would like to try.

Maybe the decision was bad, but it wasn't hard to try. He hated the idea of having to socialize again, it was not his highest quality and certainly never will be. Jayden preferred to sit in his room and work until the end of the day without short conversations. His room remained the same, it seemed like a tasteless joke but it had its charm.

He put the cup of cappuccino on the table full of papers and took off his coat slowly, covering the back of the chair and sitting down.

"Let's see what we have today..." He put his hand inside the suit but did not feel his accessory there, sighing in frustration. "Shit..." Jayden forgot that he had returned his ARI to the FBI shortly before moving in, as well as the Tripto flasks. He didn't want to have hallucinations again after fighting so hard not to have them.

The feeling could be comforting and good at the moment...then he felt at the bottom again, as if it were a path without return. Jayden had several outbreaks during his absence of Tripto, some of them resulting in hospitalization, but now most of the time he felt very good, could focus better on the cases, and write everything back on paper was wonderful. There was no reason to return.

Or did it?

After all, if it hadn't been for Tripto, he might not have overcome the loss of his fellow investigator in Washington.

No...

           If he had been a little faster...

"...shit!" Jayden screamed, covering his face with his hands and taking a deep breath. It was not time to think about the past, even more about the incident. In the corner of his eye, he saw a figure of one hand, it was Susan.

"Excuse me to appear like that without knocking on the door..." Susan was wearing a long green coat, with black heels and white pants.

Norman stood up promptly, still surprised.

"Hello...hm..." He still couldn't complete a sentence without being extremely anxious.

"Susan. Susan Bowler, I think we met shortly after Scott's death in the interrogation room." She held out her hand and Jayden gently shook hands, nodding.

"Sure, sure... What... What are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to come to thank you for the impeccable work in the first week here in the department... A pity you were not sent here before all this tragedy. The police here only know how to arrest those who are only trying to survive instead of using their brains for something more useful... " Susan smiled lightly and looked around the room.

"Oh... No need! Just doing my duty, I never wanted any recognition... But I am grateful that you have come here personally to thank me."

"Really, I am very grateful... But as a reminder of my gratitude, I have this for you..." She opened the bag and delivered a small snow globe with a Christmas decoration. "I hope you look at this as a memory of what you did for me, and for the other families who suffered at the hands of that monster... I know it's not the ideal gift, but..."

"It's very generous of you, Ms. Susan! Thank you very much. "Jayden held the globe, smiling timidly. "I'm going to make my view clear here in the room... I'll come up with a good place for this!"

"Excuse me, but is this your room?" Susan briefly pointed to the cracked and unfinished walls and floor.

"Aah... That's trivial, I'm not complaining. I was surprised at first too but I got used to the look here!"

"I thought they would treat you better after facing the famous Origami Killer but it seems not... Stupid police officers..." Susan shook her head and sighed. "Anyway, I hope you enjoy Philadelphia! And a merry Christmas to you, Mr. Jayden."

"H-hm... Yeah, merry Christmas to you too! I hope things get better."

Susan smiled briefly and left the room, closing the door carefully and leaving Norman alone again.

The profiler sat in the chair and left the snow globe near the left corner of the desk, the little penguin inside being covered by the snowflakes little by little.

"It looks like you and me, Mr. Penguin!" He said, opening the drawer and taking some files. "Let's get some bad guys soon!"

CH.2 --> [here]

[therealmaggiemedia]

The Maggie Simpson Show E1704 Maggie’s Twin

THE MAGGIE SIMPSON SHOW

E1704

MAGGIE’S TWIN

WRITTEN BY

DANIEL HARRINGTON

NETWORK

MAGGIE TV

INT, SPRINGFIELD PARK-DAY

Maggie is sitting on the bench with Homer when she decides to play in the sandbox

MAGGIE

Dad can I go and play in the sandbox!

HOMER

Sure sweetie have fun!

MAGGIE

I will thanks!

Maggie walks over to the sandbox she takes off her shoes and steps in

MAGGIE

This is good sand!

Maggie is playing in the sand when she sees another girl that looks just like her.

MAGGIE

What the hell is going on here!

MAGGIE LOOK ALIKE

You know it is not nice to use words like that!

MAGGIE

Sorry its just the shock of seeing my face on somebody else s body!

MAGGIE LOOKALIKE

The names Melissa by the way!

MAGGIE

Maggie!

MELISSA

I’m sure we could be friends so I am inviting you to my house for Dinner do you accept!

MAGGIE

Yes I do!

MELISSA

Good its at Campbell Manor see you at 7pm!

Melissa leaves Maggie in the sandbox Maggie excited gets out of the sandbox walks over to Homer to tell him about her invite.

MAGGIE

Dad  Dad!

HOMER

Yes sweetie!

MAGGIE

I saw a girl who looks like me and she invited me for Dinner at her house!

HOMER

Maggie  have you been looking in puddles again!

MAGGIE

There is no puddles because it hasn’t been raining!

HOMER

Well in that case this girl must be real lets go to her house!

MAGGIE

Alright you can come but if you ruin my friendship with this girl I swear I will never talk to you again!

HOMER

Yes Maggie and don’t forget to put on your shoes!

Maggie looks at her feet and sees she is barefoot.

MAGGIE

I’ll just go and put them on!

EXT, CAMPBELL MANOR-EVENING

Homer and Maggie are walking up to the door and Maggie is worried about people seeing Homer’s car.

MAGGIE

I  hope nobody sees your car they might mistake it for a pile of trash!

HOMER

(ANGRY) Maggie there is nothing wrong with my car I have had it for years!

MAGGIE

Yeah I know that’s why I said that!

HOMER

(annoyed  Grunt)

Maggie walks up to the door and  presses the doorbell the barbell plays Westminster chimes like Big Ben then the door opens and a Butler is seen standing there.

BUTLER

Yes Can I help you!

MAGGIE

Hi I’m Maggie and I have been invited for dinner here by Melissa!

BUTLER

Oh yes Miss Campbell did say something about that please come on in but please take off your shoes  as it is a house rule!

MAGGIE

No problem!

Maggie sits on the doorstep and takes off her pink Mary Jane sandals and leaves them outside then she enters the house Homer tries to go with her but he is stopped by the Butler.

BUTLER

I’m sorry sir but we are not serving vagrants tonight!

HOMER

(annoyed  grunt) I happen to be her father!

BUTLER

Really!

The Butler walks up to Maggie

BUTLER

You have my deepest sympathy!

MAGGIE

Why!

She turn around and sees Homer

MAGGIE

Oh right yes him my Dad!

BUTLER

I will take you to Miss Campbell!

He turns to Homer

BUTLER

No steeling light bulbs while I’m gone!

ON THE LANDING

Maggie is asking the Butler his name

MAGGIE

So what do I call you if you don’t mind me asking!

BUTLER

Not at all my name is Henry!

MAGGIE

Right I’ll try and remember that so where is Melissa’s room!

HENRY

We are here I’l introduce you to Miss Campbell!

He opens the door and a girl wearing a pink dress and white socks is sitting on a very expensive looking bed is reading a book when she sees the Butler called Henry at her doorway.

HENRY

Ahem  excuse me  Miss Campbell I have a Miss Simpson here to see you!

MELISSA

Oh very good Henry show her in!

Maggie enters the room and Henry can’t believe his eyes he thinks he is seeing Double

HENRY

oh my I can see two of you Miss Campbell I think I need a vacation I’m taking the rest of the evening off!

Henry leaves the room looking confused.

MAGGIE

Melissa what’s up with Henry your Butler!

MELISSA

Oh  he just has a lot on his mind at the moment I am so glad that you have come I really am!

MAGGIE

Glad to be here!

MELISSA

Maggie I have something I need to discuss with you if I may!

MAGGIE

Sure Melissa what’s on your mind!

MELISSA

I am very rich well my family is but I would love to know what it is like to live in a working class family!

MAGGIE

Its OK but not like the life you have!

MELISSA

I wish I could go to your house as you tonight I really do and you could stay here if only there was some way that would be possible!

MAGGIE

Melissa we’re twins if we can fool Henry we can fool anyone!

MELISSA

Maggie your right  if we swapped clothes with each other nobody will know the diffidence!

MAGGIE

But I think we should have dinner first I think better on a full stomach!

OUTSIDE IN THE GARDEN

Henry is thinking he is losing his mind  he is walking up and down trying to convince himself there is only one girl who looks like Maggie and Melissa

HENRY

Come on Henry pull yourself together there is only one girl who looks like that and that is Miss Campbell!

IN THE DINING ROOM

Maggie is sitting next to Melissa at the table Homer has been put at the end of the table on his own.

Then Mrs Campbell enters the room and sees two Melissa’s or so she thinks

MRS CAMPBELL

There is two Melissa’s oh my god!

She faints and lands on the floor.

Mr Campbell walks over to his wife to see if she is alright.

MR CAMPBELL

Jasmine, Jasmine are you alright!

MELISSA

(CONCERNED) Get her some water Father and splash some on her face!

He runs to the kitchen gets  some water but when he sees there are two of them he gets a shock and throws the water all over Homer

HOMER

Oh Great now I’m wet!

MAGGIE

You needed a bath anyway!

HOMER

When we go home your going in the bath!

Then Mrs Campbell wakes up

JASMINE

Oh I must have fainted Rick!

RICK

There is two girls that look alike!

FADE TO LATER AT THE DINING TABLE

they are now eating a very large meal and Maggie is feeling bad about making Jasmine faint.

MAGGIE

I’m really sorry I made you faint Mrs Campbell!

JASMINE

That’s quite alright wasn’t your fault  it was just the shock of it all!

RICK

I’m sorry about making you wet Mr Simpson I’m sure your t-shirt will dry in no time!

HOMER

It better!

MELISSA

Mother can Maggie and I please be excused we have some stuff to talk about in my room twin related you know!

JASMINE

Yes of course dear!

They both leave the  table and go upstairs.

IN MELISSA’S BEDROOM

Maggie and Melissa are getting ready to trade clothes

MELISSA

Okay lets swap clothes!

Melissa walks over to the window and clothes the blind so people don’t see her.

MAGGIE

Why did you do that I don’t bother!

MELISSA

I don’t want Mr Burns seeing me in my underwear!

MAGGIE

Mr Burns you leave next to Mr Burns thanks for telling me!

Melissa goes behind a screen and passes Maggie her dress Socks and shoes Maggie passes Melissa her Pants T-shirt and shoes Melissa and Maggie put them on then they both step out from the screen they are now wearing each others clothes.

MAGGIE

Remember I have a brother called Bart a big sister called Lisa and a Mom she’s nice!

MELISSA

Well I hope you enjoy my life!

MAGGIE

One more thing

Maggie draws a scar on Melissa’s right ankle and a scar on her Belly

MELISSA

What did you do that for!

MAGGIE

I have a rod in my leg so you will need to walk with a slight limp also at my school we call the principal Skinrash!

MELISSA

Okay I’ll try to remember that!

Then Homer shouts upstairs for Maggie

MAGGIE

Time to go Melissa !

She opens the door and leaves the room then Maggie relaxes herself on the bed.

MAGGIE

This is the life!

IN HOMER’S CAR

Melissa is sitting on the backseat and she is very quite this concerns Homer

HOMER

Your very quite Maggie!

MELISSA

Yes I’m just thinking that’s all father!

HOMER

Huh what did you just call me!

MELISSA

I called you father that’s what you are isn’t it!

HOMER

Yeah I am its just that you have never called me that before!

MELISSA

I’m just being polite!

HOMER

Okay then!

IN THE HOUSE

Melissa is feeling tired so she decides to go upstairs to bed but she ends up in the wrong room she enters Lisa’s Bedroom Lisa sees her and smiles at her little sister

LISA

Hi Maggie did you have a good time at your friends house!

MELISSA

Yes it was perfect and Melissa is very nice she really is!

LISA

Good I think its time you was in bed as you have school in the morning!

Melissa gets in Lisa’s bed mistaking it for Maggie’s

\

LISA

Maggie what are you doing!

MELISSA

What do you think I’m doing you underminding halfwit!

LISA

I’ll show you to your room can’t believe you have forgotten where it is!

Lisa Takes hold of her sister’s right hand and takes her to her room

LISA

Here you go now try not to forget again!

Lisa leaves the room and closes the door.

Melissa looks around the room

MELISSA

So this is my new life better then being a rich snob with a butler!

MEANWHILE AT CAMPBELL MANOR

Maggie is in Melissa’s bed sitting up reading one of Melissa’s books when there is a knock on the doorbell

MAGGIE

Yeah what is it!

HENRY

Miss Campbell I have brought you supper in bed !

Maggie gets out of bed opens the door and takes the tray from Henry then she closes the door

HENRY

Well goodnight  Miss Campbell!

Maggie gets back in bed and eats the supper that Henry has brought for her

MAGGIE

I’m going to like living here!

INT, SPRINGFIELD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL-DAY

Melissa has just arrived and she has seen the state of the school building

MELISSA

What in the world happened to the building!

GERALD

Its been like that for years I’m surprised you’ve just noticed Simpson!

MELISSA

Well I think we need to complain about this!

LILLY

We have tried and you have we just put up with it!

Melissa walks down the hall to Maggie’s locker she opens it and gets her stuff for class then she makes her way to Kindergarten she opens the door and is very shocked at what she sees.

MELISSA

Is this the kindergarten class!

Then Mr Johnson walks over to her

JOHNSON

Yes Maggie it is and you know that!

MELISSA

Funny but doesn’t a kindergarten class have toys and sand that we can use!

JOHNSON

We have sand just walk over to the sandbox!

Melissa walks over to the sandbox she takes a look at the sand she doesn’t like the look of it so she turns to Mr Johnson and complains

MELISSA

I want proper sand in the sandbox right now!

JOHNSON

Maggie its not possible!

MELISSA

Listen to me I want proper sand in the sandbox do you understand!

IN THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE

Melissa is standing at his desk facing him

SKINNER

So your telling the teacher’s what to do are you do you like doing it Simpson!

MELISSA

If it needs to be done I do all I want is sand in the sandbox!

SKINNER

There is sand in the sandbox!

MELISSA

If I put my feet in there I’d need more then a pedicure!

SKINNER

Maggie I am willing to overlook this incident now you go for recess and enjoy yourself playing whatever games you kids play!

He sends her out of the office

SKINNER

Maggie wouldn’t say the word pedicure she wouldn’t even know what that is at age 6 hmm something  odd about that!

MEANWHILE AT SPRINGFIELD PREPARATORY SCHOOL

Maggie is not liking it she hates wearing uniforms

MAGGIE

I hate uniforms I’m going to tell principal valiant what he can do with his uniform!

Maggie walks down a large hall and barges in to his office without knocking

MAGGIE

(ANGRY) Principal Valiant I hate uniforms and this is what you can do with your damn uniform!

Maggie takes off her uniform and throws at him

VALIANT

Melissa please put your uniform back on please!

MAGGIE

Shove it!

VALIANT

That’s it Melissa you have earned yourself 4 weeks detention and put on your uniform you can’t do your classes in your underwear!

MAGGIE

Just watch me assanova!

FADE TO THE DETENTION ROOM LATER

Maggie is now wearing her uniform and she is writing on the whiteboard I will not refuse to wear my uniform 100 times as punishment Principal Valiant enters the room and walks up to Maggie

VALIANT

Now do you see what happens when you refuse to do something!

MAGGIE

Like I give a rats ass anyway!

VALIANT

Is everything alright at home!

MAGGIE

Yeah it is!

VALIANT

Well tomorrow I’d you to see the guidance councellier!

MAGGIE

Lets see what he pulls out of his ass!

MEANWHILE AT THE SIMPSONS HOUSE

they are in the dining room having dinner

LISA

So Maggie how was school!

MELISSA

It was ok but they have sand that is not be used be humans and the food there is just awful!

BART

What the hell do you expect when they reuse leftovers from 3 weeks ago!

MELISSA

Bart you have given me information I can use to my own advantage!

MARGE

Who wants cake!

They all shout me me me

MEANWHILE AT CAMPBELL MANOR

Rick is in the parlor when Maggie comes in in a very bad mood

RICK

Melissa your very late home your dinner is in the oven I’ll get Henry to get it for you!

MAGGIE

(ANGRY) You can go and shove it up your ass Father!

RICK

(ANGRY)

Young lady I demand you apologize this instant!

MAGGIE

You want me to apologize  do you okay I will  I’m sorry I was born happy now!

Maggie goes upstairs crying

then Jasmine appears at the side of him

JASMINE

Oh dear see what you have done now Rick!

RICK

I’m sorry my darling but I’m not having our daughter speaking rudely and out of turn!

JASMINE

Rick  just leave her to calm down then we can talk to her together!

RICK

If you insist my darling!

IN MELISSA BEDROOM

Maggie has opened the window as she has seen Mr Burns so has the mood she is in she decides to be rude to Mr Burns

MAGGIE

Hey Burns you look like  a walking  skeleton!

BURNS

I’ll get you for that Campbell!

MAGGIE

One problem I’m not Campbell I’m Simpson

BURNS

Simpson huh just let Homer wait till tomorrow morning!

INT. SNPP-DAY

Homer  has just arrived  when Waylon Smithers  shouts his name over the P.A system

SMITHERS

Homer Simpson report to Mr Burns’s Office!

HOMER

(Annoyed Grunt)

In Mr Burns’s Office Homer is standing in front of Mr Burn’s desk facing him

BURNS

How dare you let your daughter be rude to me!

HOMER

Sir I don’t know what the hell your talking about Maggie has been home with me last night!

BURNS

She has but I thought I saw her at Campbell Manor!

HOMER

Impossible  she wouldn’t even get there at that time of night!

BURNS

In that case you may return to Sector 7G!

Homer leaves the office

LATER AT THE SIMPSONS HOUSE

Melissa is in Maggie’s bedroom reading a A B C book when Homer enters the room

HOMER

Maggie can I have a word with you!

MELISSA

Yes you may!

He sits on her bed next to her

HOMER

You didn’t go to Mr Burns’s house last night and was rude to him did you!

MELISSA

No Father I dd not!

HOMER

I believe you I know you didn’t so carry on!

Homer leaves the room

Melissa worried about Maggie calls her on her phone

MELISSA

Maggie we have to switch back this just not working out!

MAGGIE

I know what you mean that Butler keeps annoying me by bringing me things I didn’t want but before we do switch I have to do one more thing!

MELISSA

Okay we’ll make the switch tomorrow at Springfield elementary!

MAGGIE

Great!

MELISSA

Meet me in the girls bathroom!

MAGGIE

Will do!

AT CAMPBELL MANOR

Maggie is in Melissa’s room  getting ready to do the deed.

MAGGIE

This will make those two idiots downstairs madder then ever!

Maggie takes her clothes opens the door and goes out completely naked on the landing she meets Henry the butler she walks in front of him and Henry sees more then he sees to see.

HENRY

Miss Campbell where on earth are your clothes!

MAGGIE

Its alright Henry I’m taking a shower so why would I need clothes!

HENRY

please put on your robe nobody wants to see your um body shell we say!

MAGGIE

No thanks don’t need one!

She walks downstairs still naked a vase hides Maggie’s bits so the viewers don’t see Rick sees his daughter naked and is shocked.

RICK

(SHOCKED)

Melissa Josephine Campbell  get your clothes on right now!

MAGGIE

No thanks!

She runs around the house Benny hill style and they all try to catch her they eventually catch her and force her to wear a robe.

MAGGIE

Bunch of ingrates!

RICK

Melissa please don’t do that again okay!

MAGGIE

Okay whatever!

She goes back upstairs to her room

INT, SPRINGFIELD ELEMENTARY SCHOOL-DAY

Melissa is waiting for Maggie in the girls bathroom when she arrived.

MELISSA

Where in the world have you been!

MAGGIE

Sorry there was an incident called the exploding toilet I think your in trouble!

MELISSA

Nevermind that lets switch before we get caught!

They both go into a cubical each they pass arch others clothes to each other then they exit the cubical wearing their own clothes

MAGGIE

Melissa good luck at your school with Principal Valiant!

Melissa exits the room

AT SPRINGFIELD PREPARATORY SCHOOL

Melissa is walking down the hall when she is stopped by Principal Valiant who is not looking too pleased

VALIANT

(ANGRY)

Miss Campbell you have some explaining to do also there is a little matter of an exploding toilet!

MELISSA

Yes and I can explain all you see-

VALIANT

You can tell me all about it in detention!

He takes her to the detention room

[ilovedhim-whydidyouhadtokillhim]

I did this... It's an embarrasing number5xreader

Title: That's bullshit in any Language.

(I don't mean to be rude. It's a line Five says to the handler. Ill put un this post part 1 and 2.)

So. This is Five living his life with the Sparrow Academy, and you are an editor that wants to publish his story. It's a few years After you came back to 2019... And it might have some of my ideas on time travel and the comission. Nothing canon or comic canon because i haven't had time to read it yet. Sorry for the grammar.

Chapter 1:

There are plenty of your reasons that I don't understand. Why did you come back? Was it really because of your family or was saving the world that matters? Did you came back just to help them? or because you love them?.-

Those words hit the brain of your interlocutor like a gold lingot adorned with a lemon peel. Effect only achieved by the Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster, which was very far from this part of the universe.

-What do you mean by that?-. He replied annoyed, you were sitting next to a window, in front of you there was a young adult. You were wearing a white blouse and ankle-length skirt. -Well, if you have powers that go beyond reason, and you are capable of leasing with the physical laws that bind everyone else, shouldn't you understand that these are simply events that had to happen in a certain order so that your brothers and everyone else should simply disappear? .-

-What?- He said sissing, with a very pissed off look. You had spent the afternoon listening to his fantastic story. As an assistant to the chef editor at a science fiction publishing house, you thought the young man was trying to sell you his story. Mostly because of the effort he made to make it seem real, he probably wanted to give it a transmedia approach. You thought that perhaps it could work, uploading an internet page, a video game for smartphones and several Facebook pages would sell well too, you saw the future and it was probably easily adapted to the cinema or to a series, you even thought about the fanfiction. If you hadn't detected so many narrative problems… Which on the other hand gave realism to these misfits.

The expression on Five, the pseudonym under which he introduced himself, made it clear that he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But that's how new artists are, they live in their stories, their delirium. And it's understandable. You began talking again. -What Mr. Reginald told Diego, seems to me, it's true for everyone. But at least he's honest about it. In all their actions, these guys are all marked by their father, it’s really their main drive to act.-

You felt a slight guilt, someone so fanatical about their own creation had to put a lot of himself into it, so probably Diego, Klaus, Vanya and all of the others were just a human personification of a hurt part of his adolescence. -Excuse me for telling you this but even with fifty-something years you went to your father for advice. A man who was not older than you in his timeline. Even in the middle of all that conspiracy. You chose to believe in him. -

The young man seemed somewhat nervous, he was sweating a bit and his eyebrows were narrowing in a strange way. -Are you from the association?- he said sweating - Is this a new kind of psychological attack?-. These clarifications gave you a bad feeling, but you decided to joke: -Do you see me with a briefcase?-. It didn't seem to work as you liked. His face showed a terrible aversion and you felt fear. You took your things and left enough money to pay for your coffees, on the table.

-I think it is an excellent work of fiction, Mr. Five. But I think you should solve your problems and calm down a bit before you want to publish it. I don't know what had happened to you to come up with all this but it seems to me that with a good medication and a correct edition you could go far. You are still young and you could even have a great future as an author. But I can't work with someone in your current state.- You took your card out of the bag and gave it to him somewhat shakily. His face changed from rage to disbelief and you left a bit angry and scared.

He scrutinized the white card, it was made with a fancy paper. It had “Dark Horse Books" printed in black. -In my dimension these are "comics" instead of books - he smiled. He hit his head on the table "> your last name <,> your first name <",> phone number <,> office address <.

He realizedrealizado were just a smart girl. -She's probably right. Maybe in all this time I have just lived as a scared child under the table of a man who is not even my father, but the one from Sparrow Academy. After all, even the idiot Luther decided to make his life of his own in this world ...-.

Five called Diego. -Hello brother, another Apocalypse? - Five heard a tone that wanted to be playful but actually sounded concerned. -None, I just want to chat. Are you available for dinner? .-. Five had started college not long ago. Mr. Hargreeves had gotten the adoption papers of Five just as he would have been one of the boys he previously adopted. So everyone was amazed when that young man who looked about 20 "was actually 34".

When you were at home doing office work, you were surprised to know that your appointment for that day had been canceled and that you had stayed all afternoon listening to a poor schizophrenic or drug addict speak.

Chapter 2:

The uneasiness of the meeting with the boy passed and a few weeks later you had time in your schedule for a new interview with the young man who was supposed to arrive on that occasion. You have had coffee and the middle-aged man left.

Nothing out of the ordinary. More stories about zombies and society, it would be edited because it was an acquaintance of the manager. You were beginning to rethink working with that strange young man and his story. You remembered that sometime in your teens you heard about some babies that were born a without their mothers having been pregnant. And a kind of low-profile superhero league that most people took as a hoax to divert attention from things like Watergate, the White House affair among other things.

Probably if the boy was right you were looking at an excellent informant. And it could be an amazingly revealing book ... Especially with all the mythology surrounding JFK. You turned to the window and the young man was watching you from the other block. That again, gave you the chills. You saw him cross the street. It was fortunate that your cup did not have more than the sip you took or you would have spilled it all over yourself.

The young man sat in front of you, the husband of the owner of the cafeteria asked the young man what he wanted. The boy looked stunned. "HAZEL?" The man looked at him for a moment, because that was his ñame but the man was no acquaintance of him. "Excuse me young man, I don't remember meeting you." The boy laughed. -Don't worry, you reminded me of a friend, but it can't be you. It's good to see you anyways.- The man served their coffee somewhat puzzled and walked to talk to his wife, the woman turned her head the table and denied knowing him. Ultimately, neither of them knew who the young man was. This definitely raised several questions but you didn't know which ones. Mostly mportant, what would the young man talk about now?.

You were silent for a while. Five had his hands in his pockets. And you kept looking at the street. You saw how the steam from the coffee made waves above the cup. Again you wear a shirt and skirt. This time a white one with polka dots. Nothing that you could know of but the boy had been a bundle of confusion the last few days. He was not very enthusiast about human company, but he decided to separate from all his previous life experiences and for this he began studying economics. So meeting you at that moment in those clothes made him really dubious about why he was talking to you. Was he really addicted to the apocalypse as you and Diego said?.

Tired of the silence, you asked him a question that seemed uncomfortable for both of you. -The previous time, you only told me your nickname, Mr. Hmmm.- The man looked at you with surprise and smiled at you. -Francis... Reginald, Hargreeves.- you raised your eyebrows. Behind all that delirium, the young man did not look like a Reginald, although on a second thought he dressed like an upper-class young man. He was probably one of those rich young men whose excessive education, gets them a little upset with the world before they should be done with it. -You can call me Frank ... or Five. My siblings, they usually call me Five. So as not to be confused with my father. - The young man seemed somewhat annoyed.

-Oh, it's okay Frank. -, -What do you think of the proposal? . Despite the trust that the young man had placed in you, there was something that prevented you from treating him as a young man of his age. He obviously was not over 23. You didn't know if it was his story, where he is over 60 years old, if it was perhaps his possible mental illness or the aura of presumption that accompanied him.

-Ohhh. I discussed some of that with some of my siblings. They do not agree.- You imagined him sitting at an empty table like the last supper. Except he was just talking to himself. -I see you still don't believe me.-, the young man took out his phone and showed you a picture of him with his family. You could see a huge man, a condecorated policeman, a renowned violinist, an underground model who had worked for several covers with your publishing house, an actress who had just won an Oscar and the little brother. Now that you saw him next to all his family, his story was starting to make a little more sense. Besides, they were all obviously different. Now you thought that the young man could not be more than 21 ... And that it must be difficult to be good by the side of those successful siblings.

The young man seemed to guess your thoughts or maybe it was the pious look you gave him. -Whatever you are thinking, is not the case. I just study for fun. I actually work in a government agency. And believe it or not, for a couple of years I have been in therapy for the post traumatic stress that living so many years alone caused me. Stranded at the end of the world Dolores!-. The young man clapped his mouth quickly, that seemed to hurt. He turned completely red. You didn't know if it was because of the hit or if he had said something embarrassing. While he was telling you his story, his subconscious was quite careful to hide all the details from you about his wife, named Dolores.

And that was. Curiously, the point that he had discussed earlier days with his psychologist, apparently he had not understood (or had not wanted to understand) that the talk he had with you reminded him of his Wife. Only this time, it was really a person outside of himself who answered him with such sharpness and intelligence. And he wasn't going to accept it.

Not knowing all that internal debate, you took another sip of the coffee. "My name is in case you are interested." You said upset. He lowered his hands from his face, it was completely red. -Yes, I know , I just remembered someone while talking to you. - There was no going back after that statement. "Thank you for taking an interest in my story and for listening to a complete stranger say nonsensical things." He now seemed like a completely different person. This boy's range of emotions is a carnival.

-Don't worry, it's part of my job. To tell the truth, I confused you with a young writer and I was quite tough because he is a recommended person to whom we must publish.-. You smiled at him. Apparently the young man liked your comment. -Wow, I must be flattered then.-, -Pretty much actually. We are a very famous publisher present all over the world.-, -And timelines ... it's a joke.-. The young man said when he saw your expression. -For such and such a reason. I look very young. But I think there is something that is not clear to you ... I am also 34. I am not really a young person.- Five had decided to start living according to the age of his brothers. Since he had that opportunity.

You had a pleasant talk, and exchanged phones with the young man. Since the one he had was your work phone number. Probably something good had come out of this confusion. It had gotten quite late, and you had to be on the other side of the city. To finish a part of the work you needed to get up early the next day, a taxi would cost you a lot. The young man saw your concern. -I can take you home, if you want,-. He said with a mischievous smile. You didn't know what he was planning. But you accepted, and walked with him to a parking lot, while you were walking, he asked your address and places near your house, -Oh! I understand, near <>> and that <<< >>>, of course I do know what building you are talking about.- He said while rubbing his chin and doing some imaginary calculations in the air. Being quite far from people, he asked you to take him tightly by the arm. You took it and suddenly you felt something pull you back. You closed your eyes. Next, you were in front of your building.

"What had just happened?" You saw him up, he was a little taller than you and he had a mocking laugh. -I'm sorry that teleportation is not a gift that everyone has. But at least you already tried, right? -. You felt how your intestines took their place again and you got a bit nauseous. You ran to some nearby bushes but you were lucky that you weren't as sick as you thought. You wiped yourself with your sleeve. And you thanked him a bit puzzled. You saw him inquisitively. You had so many questions, but none seemed prudent to be the first. He laughed. He actually seemed like he was quite nice and smart when he wasn't an arrogant know-it-all. If all the things he said to you were true, then he probably did know a lot more than your average citizen.

He accompanied you to your door, said goodbye to you with a kiss on the cheek. He disappeared in front of you with a beam of blue light. Now you had an existential crisis knowing that the world had already ended twice in a past and a future that were actually the past of the present that you lived. And that was nothing at all digestible. After seven years working without missing a single day due to illness, you decided to take a week of unforeseen rest.

I had this posted here too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520721/chapters/64640455#workskin

[fucking-hell-skarsgard]

Paradise - Chapter Eight

WARNING - This chapter does include SMUT and towards the end, there is mention of SUICIDE and SELF-HARM.

September 26th - Stockholm, Sweden

Bill POV

~~~~~~~~~~

After her meds, Eva didn’t even wake or flinch at the noise around her. The boys tried to be quiet, one of them would make a noise and the other two would shush whoever made the noise. Dad had snuck a picture of both of us. The last picture was of me frowning at the camera. About 40 minutes later Sam wandered into the living room.

“Dinner's nearly ready.” He whispered.

I stroked Eva's cheek to wake her up. She stirred and rubbed her eyes. “How long was I out?”

“About 30 minutes. Dinners ready.”

Between Sam and I we managed to get Eva standing. Once she had her balance, we made our way slowly to the kitchen with my arm around her waist for support.

Kolbjörn patted the chair next to him for Eva to sit. She sat between him and Lucas, I was the other side of Kolbjörn. Dinner was soon served and Eva giggled when she saw what was in her bowl. She had animal shaped pasta, tomato sauce and meatballs. The portion was about the same size as Kolbjörn’s dinner.

Megan winked at her across the table. “Sam said your meds can make you a bit funny. So I made something easy to eat.”

Eva smiled at Megan. “Mum makes this for me whenever I’m not well.”

We began eating. I hadn't seen Sam in a long time. We caught up on what had been happening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas holding up his carrots to Eva who would blow on them, then he'd eat them with a giggle.

Dad noticed and caught my eye smiling. One by one we all watched Eva interacting with Lucas. It wasn't till she looked up that Eva noticed us all watching.

She frowned and looked at us, “What?”

We all burst out laughing. Sam stroked his son's head. “I've never seen him eat his vegetables that willingly.”

“Oh, should I have not done that?”

“No, you're fine. I might have to do it when he's being fussy.”

Dad wiped his eyes, “She's had enough practice with babies. Eva is now the baby master in this house.”

Sam smiled. “You will always be the baby master dad.”

Eva laughed. “It just comes with practice.”

Megan smiled at her, “14 is a lot of practice.”

Sam nearly choked on his water. “14 siblings?!”

“Yeah Dad’s Italian and was raised Catholic, Mum’s from Kiruna and she had a big family anyway.”

“But 14?”

“Yep 14, including three sets of twins, so mum’s had 11 pregnancies. Dad likes to joke that he’s magic. Mum just puts it down to the long, dark winter.”

Everyone laughed.

Eva went back to her pasta. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had one more.”

Sam looked at his son's head. “If you don’t mind me asking how old is your mum?”

“She turned 47 in June.”

This time we all did stare at her. I couldn’t believe her mum was that young. I knew she wouldn’t be as old as dad seeing as she was the oldest sibling but that was crazy. Dad was 66 and mum had just turned 60 this year.

Dad lent his elbow on the table. “And your father?”

“He’s 51. They got married when mum was 18. I was born 3 months after she turned 19. Dad likes to joke he’s a sugar daddy, even though mum earns more than him.”

“I didn’t think they your parents were that young.”

“I suppose everyone had babies young in my family. Grandma’s only 67 and mormor is 89.”

Sam and I caught each other’s eye and burst out laughing. Eva had an inkling about what we were laughing about. Sanna and Megan got the joke soon after.

Eva looked at dad and beamed at him. “You are literally old enough to be my grandpa.”

We all laughed harder at the statement while dad sulked.

“Okay enough with the age talk. Let’s change the subject.”

Sanna turned to Eva. “So where were you born.”

Eva was feeding Lucas the rest of his vegetables. “England actually. The first four of us were born in Suffolk. At my Nana’s house. Dad was born there. We all have dual citizenship.”

“Wow. When did you come back?”

Eva counted on her fingers. “Beginning of ‘94 before my next brother was born. Dad got a transfer to Stockholm University. Plus mum refused to come back before, he finally managed to convince her.”

“Why didn’t she want to come back.”

Eva eyed the children. “Maybe a story for later. It’s not nice.”

Sanna nodded. We finished dinner, Eva tried to help clean up before Megan shooed her from the sink. Instead, Eva fed Ragnar his supper and let him run around the garden. I joined her and we both had a cheeky cigarette. I could tell Eva was high because she kept giggling at everything. I had to help Eva climb the stairs to use the bathroom. I sat on my bed looking at her stuff in my room. She wasn’t the type of girl where she conquered every inch of room. Everything was organised neatly alongside my things. This was something I could get used to. She came out of the bathroom and stumbled into the door frame. She came over and kissed me.

“Thank you.”

I frowned, “What for?”

“Everything. For being so amazing. You always take care of me.”

I smiled at her. God, she was high. “Well, you look after me when I'm sick.”

Eva snorted. “Yeah, that’s cause you’re a big baby when you’re sick.”

I laughed. “And there goes you being cute.”

She placed her hands on my shoulders, pushing me down onto the bed. She climbed onto of me and began kissing my neck.

“Woah girl. I’m not doing anything while you’re drugged.”

She leaned over me and pouted. “Fine. Spoilsport.”

She climbed off me and nearly fell back when she stood. I managed to wrap my arms around her waist. I lay a kiss on her stomach before standing. Ragnar who had been watching the whole time just gave me a look. If he could roll his eyes I'm sure he would of. I lead Eva downstairs, she followed behind me with her hands on my shoulders. Now I understood why she lived in apartments with lifts or houses with the master bedroom on the ground floor. We all sat in the lounge Lucas and Kolbjörn were either side of Eva, she was showing them pictures again on her Ipad. Ossian was finishing off his homework. Dad and Megan joined us soon after. I helped Eva join her iPad to the Tv, she was showing everyone photos of her home. I could see them falling in love with it. I was shocked by how beautiful it looked. When it was covered in snow it looked like something from a Christmas card.

“Eva that looks like heaven.” Sanna sighed.

“All of you are more than welcome to visit. There’s more than enough room for everyone.”

Dad laughed. “You’d need fifty rooms to get everyone in.”

Eva paused, you could see her mentally counting. “Well, technically there’s only five of the younger ones at home. My brother is staying because his wife just had another baby, so his three are staying. One of my twin sisters lives nearby. The rest are either at school, university or left the nest.”

“So when are you all together?” Megan asked.

“Christmas always, sometimes in one of the school holidays and if a baby has been born.”

Sanna turned to Sam. “It would be lovely but you don’t have much holiday left.”

Sam nodded. “Only the next two weeks.”

Eva shrugged. “Mum would be more than happy if I brought people home. She keeps telling me the house is too quiet.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t.”

Stellan motioned to them and pointed at the boys.

Megan stood. “Okay boys bath time.”

She took all three boys upstairs. I heard her whispered in dad’s ear.

“Fill me in later.”

Once the boys were out of earshot we all turned back to Eva.

“Would it be a problem?” Dad asked.

Eva giggled. “The house used to be a hotel so there’s more than enough rooms and space.”

Sanna looked at Sam. “It would be nice. Lucas hasn’t seen proper snow.”

“All it would take is one phone call to mum.”

A picture flicked up on the screen. It was the family portrait Eva had pinned on the kitchen board. It looked like the extended Weasley family. There were two people with blonde hair and one with black. There were staggering 27 people in the photo.

Sanna cooed. “Is that your family?”

Eva nodded. “That’s everyone. Mum, dad, all my siblings, partners and nieces and nephews.”

Sam let out a whistle. “Holy hell. I didn’t realise you were all ginger.”

Eva smirked. “Yeah, the ginger is strong in this one.”

Dad finished the wine in his glass. “Okay, I have an idea. We’ll wait till everyone gets here then we’ll see who wants to go. Hows that?”

We all nodded in agreement. Even if no one wanted to go, I’d follow her home. We chatted about a few different things until Megan came back downstairs with all three boys, now dressed in pyjamas. With their son now clean and ready for bed Sam and Sanna took Lucas home, with a promise of checking up on my tomorrow. Megan put the boys to bed and we were now lounging around the living room again. Stellan had caught Megan up on our plan and was more than happy with it. She said she’d do some secret packing tomorrow.

I could Eva get heavy on my shoulder. Dad tried not to laugh. She had started to doze off. I gently squeezed her hand to wake her up. She opened her eyes, they were glassy and unfocused.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

She just nodded. I helped her stand and climb the stairs. Ragnar followed the black pouch hanging from his mouth by the strap. Eva sat on her bed and I helped her get changed into an overly large t-shirt and tiny shorts. Placing her into bed before stripping and climbing in myself. I turned the TV on and found something for me to watch. Ragnar lay on his own bed that Eva placed in front of my dresser, he happily chewed a bone knowing that I would take care of her.

“Ragnar just needs letting out later.”

I kissed the top of her head. “I know, I have looked after him before. Just rest, I’ll wake you later for your meds.”

She got herself comfortable and fell asleep quickly. I tried not to nod off for the next hour. Before waking Eva for her meds I took Ragnar downstairs. Dad and Megan were cuddling on the sofa.

“Is she alright?” Megan asked.

“Yeah, she's asleep. I'm just going to give her some more when I go back up.”

“Will you be okay?”

I nodded before venturing into the kitchen. I let Ragnar out and stole one of Eva's cigarettes while I was out in the garden. On my way back in a grabbed a glass of water for Eva. Upstairs I gently woke Eva, she didn't seem as spaced out as before.

She sat up. “What time is it?”

“Nearly 10.”

“Can I pee?”

I helped her out of bed and she limped to the bathroom Ragnar happily followed her. I got the black pouch out of her bag and laid it on my bed. It was full of medical equipment, I only recognised some of it. I heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open.

Eva stood beside me, looking at the pouch. “It's a lot isn't it.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, what should I do?”

With my help, Eva laid on the bed and talked me through every single step. It wasn't as complicated as I thought. The only things I had to worry about was flushing the line, making sure I had the correct dosage and make sure there was no air in the syringes. Once we were done I put the rubbish in the bin and the pouch on the bedside table just in case we needed it in the night. As per Eva's instruction, I filled out her tiny record book. Eva was leaning against the headboard letting the drugs relax her body.

“Feeling okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for being my nurse. Was Ragnar alright?”

“I like being your sexy nurse. Yeah, he's in his bed now.”

We settled down into bed again. Eva resting on my chest.

“Eva…”

She hummed in response.

“I promise I'll do anything I can to help you. I'll learn whatever I need too.”

She let out a happy sigh. “I love you.”

I kissed the top of her head. “And I love you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning I woke to the noise of someone being sick. The bathroom door was shut but the light shone through the gap at the bottom. The bed was empty beside and Ragnar wasn't on his cushion. I checked the time, it was a little after 8. I got out of bed and grabbed the black pouch. I gently knocked on the bathroom door

I heard Eva groan. “I'm fine.”

I was about to open the door when I heard scratching and it swung from my grip. Ragnar's nose peeped round the door and opened it further. In the bathroom, Eva was propped against the wall by the toilet.

She glared at Ragnar. “Traitor.”

I grabbed a washcloth and wet it. Handing it to her so she could clean her face.

“I really don't want you seeing me like this.”

I grabbed a hair tie out of her washbag by the sink. I tried my best to pull her hair into a ponytail.

“How many times have you looked after me.”

She half smiled. “Too many times.”

Suddenly she grabbed the toilet and was sick again. I rubbed gentle circles on her back. Once she was finished I flushed the toilet and grabbed the black pouch. She leaned back against the wall with her hand resting on my knee. I carefully measured out the right amount of medication and gave it to Eva.

“Thanks.”

“How long should it take.”

“Minutes.”

“Okay.”

I rinsed the cloth and gave it back to her.

“I'll go get you some water.”

She just nodded wiping her face with the cool cloth. I went downstairs dad and Megan were sat at the table talking, Kolbjörn was sat on dad's lap colouring. They looked up when I entered the kitchen.

“Morning. Everything alright?”

I filled a small glass with water. “Eva's been sick.”

“Is she okay?”

I nodded. “I just give her some of her meds.”

Megan nodded and stood. “I'll make her tea.”

“I'll think she had some of her tea bags in her case.”

Megan smiled. “I brought her some when we went shopping last.”

Dad looked up from the newspaper. “I remembered from London. It's not every day you forget about someone who carries their own peppermint tea bags.”

I smiled. It was a little thing but it meant a lot to both of us. I was glad they liked Eva. “Thank you.”

I took the water back upstairs. Eva had managed to stand and was now sat on my bed, Ragnar at her feet. I handed her the glass.

“Thanks.” She slowly sipped the water. “I won't have coffee, I'll take my tea bags down.”

I sat beside her. “Megan got you some.”

“She did?”

I nodded. “What do you want to do today?”

She sighed. “I want to go outside. I’d like to get some things in town.”

“Okay. We can take Ragnar to one of the parks “

“That sounds nice.”

“Shall we go downstairs?”

She nodded. I helped her slip my hoodie over her head. She grabbed a bag of Ragnar’s food before shuffling downstairs. Kolbjörn helped Eva feed Ragnar before sitting next to her at the table. Megan presented her with a mug of peppermint tea.

“Thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I'm okay now thanks. The meds have kicked in.”

“So what are you doing today?”

I made myself a cup of coffee sitting the other side of Kolbjörn.

“Eva wants to go out, do shop shopping then let Ragnar have some play time. So we were thinking of one of the parks.”

Kolbjörn squealed. “Can I come.”

Eva smiled at him. “It's up to mummy bud.”

He looked at Megan.

“Only if you can be a good boy.”

“Yes, I promise.”

“As long as Bill and Eva don’t mind. You must listen to them.”

I ruffled his hair. “It’s been awhile since I spent time with you.”

“Thank you. I'll pack you a picnic. You can use my car it already has his car seat in it. And the chairs are covered so Ragnar can go in.”

Eva smiled “Thank you, Megan.”

Eva had managed to drink most of her tea. Megan made toast for everyone, making sure Eva ate something. After breakfast we went upstairs to get dressed, Eva packed her handbag and a backpack with her medication, equipment for Ragnar and a few toys. I was coming out of the bathroom after shaving when I saw Eva bent over the bed in just a tiny pair of panties and a sports bra. My heart fluttered in my chest and I felt myself grow hard. I crept up behind her and ground myself into her pert derriere. I saw her claw onto the bed sheets.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eva POV

Feeling Bill's hard length being pressed into me made me realise that I was still horny from when I tried it on with Bill yesterday.

I shook my head. “Bill we shouldn’t.”

“You shouldn’t bend over in just your underwear.” he ran his hands down my back.

I turned to face him, pressing myself against him. Letting my hand slid down his chest into his unzipped jeans. “You are insatiable. Turn the shower on and you have to make it quick.”

Bill almost ran to the bathroom, trying to undress on his way. I slipped my underwear down my legs. Bill came back in just his boxers. He laid me down on his bed and pushed my legs apart so I was laying spread eagled at the edge. He began to kiss down my legs towards my core. He slipped my good leg over his broad shoulders. A small nip on my thigh made me clench and I tried not to make any noise.

He lapped up my wetness and swirled his tongue around my sensitive clit. He slipped two fingers in, I had to bite my hand to stop me from crying out. Bill knew every little trick to help me get off. He began curling his fingers inside me and quickening his pace on my button. He pulled away and looked up at me. His pupils were blown and his mouth sparkled with my wetness.

“Take it off and let me see you.”

I quickly pulled my sports bra over my head. My pierced nipples hardened against the cool air. Bill dove back down between my legs and carried on where he left off. It wasn't long till I could feel myself tightening around his fingers.

“Please don't stop. I'm so close.”

I could feel him smirk against me. I dug my heel into his back pushing him closer. My hips bucked and he put an arm across pinning me down. My hands dug into the sheets and I had to bite my lips as the tidal wave crashed over me. Bill didn't stop as my walls clenched around his fingers. In the end, I pushed him off with my foot. I lay on the bed panting trying to catch my breath. Bill stood in front of me and I watched him as he licked his fingers clean.

“Du smakar så bra.” {You taste so good.}

“Jag vill att du ska knulla mig.” {I want you to fuck me.}

He smirked, eyes darkening. He almost looked like Roman for a split second. “Oh, darling. I intend to.”

He helped me stand on shaking legs. He bent me over the footboard giving me something to hang onto. I heard his boxers hit the floor. He slid into me in one slow thrust, letting me get used to his size. Even after all the years, we’d been sleeping together the feel of him inside me still made my toes curl. I tried my hardest to keep quiet as Bill thrust into me. He grabbed one of my hands placing it between my legs. I knew he wanted me to come again. It didn’t take long till I felt the band tightening in my stomach. Bills thrusts became more erratic as he got closer. His fingers wrapped themselves through my hair. A sharp tug was enough to push me over the edge with Bill seconds behind me. He didn’t pull out right away, staying inside me to catch his breath. He traced his fingers down my spine making me shiver. He hissed as I clenched around him. He pulled out and turned me to face him.

“I love you.”

I pulled him closer and placed a kiss on his lips. “I love you too.”

I limped into the bathroom trying my hardest not to let his seed spill down my legs. I heard him snicker behind me, I flipped him the bird and shut the door. I turned the shower off and tried to clean myself up as best I could. Two minutes later there was a knock at the door. I opened it and Bill was stood the other side with my underwear.

“Thanks.” I pecked his cheek as we swapped round.

When Bill was in the bathroom I got dressed as quickly as I could. I nearly tripped trying to pull my jeans on. I sat on Bill’s bed when he came out the bathroom.

“You look sexy.”

I snorted. “I’m wearing jeans”

He stood in front of me in just his boxers. “I love it when you dress up, I can’t keep my hands off you. But even in jeans and a hoodie I still think you're sexy.”

I stood and kissed him. “Thank you. Now please get dressed so I don’t attack you.”

I grabbed my bags and Ragnar’s harness before I made my way downstairs. Stellan was helping his son tie his shoelaces while Megan was making sure he had some things to do in his tiny backpack. Ragnar stood when he saw his harness and wagged his tail. The harness meant he was going outside which was one of his favourite things to do.

Megan looked up. “Ready?”

I nodded. Bill came down the stairs behind me and picked up the keys.

“What time do we need to be back by?”

Stellan stood. “Alex should be the first home. About 3.”

Bill picked up our bags and Ragnar’s lead while I held onto Kols hand. I buckled him into his car seat while Bill secured Ragnar. Kol was happy to have a back seat companion.

Bill turned to me. “Ready?”

I nodded securing my seat belt. “Let’s just pray you’ve gotten better since last time.”

“Hey!”

~~~~~~~~~~

We parked the car in town and walked around the shops. Kol held onto both our hands while carrying his tiny backpack. After buying some things for my baby sister I left the boys in the ice cream shop. After countless times telling Bill I would be fine, I went on the hunt for a certain shop. After buying Megan and Stellan a present. I returned to the boys. Bill had just brought us coffees to go after Kol had finished his ice cream. We moved the car closer to the park and ventured in to find the playground.

It was quieter here and Kol walked just in front of us. Bill and I had agreed we wouldn’t kiss or hold hands around him so he didn’t get confused. We sat on a bench with the basket watching Kol run around and climb the frames. Being a school day there weren't many children around, so it was easy to keep an eye on him. Ragnar was happily laid on his side in the sunshine. Bill and I talked about what the two of us were going to do about telling people, or what happened if we got photographed together. After half an hour Kol came back complaining he was hungry. We found ourselves a nice secluded spot far away from the populated areas. Bill lay down a large blanket that had been in the car. We dug into the picnic Megan had packed for us.

After lunch, Kol sat in my lap while I read one of his books to him. I could feel him grow heavy so I lay him down covering him with my hoodie. Ragnar moved to lay beside him. Seeing as Kol was asleep Bill snuck closer to me. I laid flat on the blanket looking up at the sky, while Bill laid facing me tracing my tattoos with his fingertips. He started on my bicep and moved down towards my wrist. He froze when he felt the slightly raised scar running down the inside of my forearm. He sat up pulling my arm towards him to get a closer look.

“Eva...”

I pulled my arm away from him. Slightly ashamed that he had finally noticed after four years. I had the scars on both arms. After they had healed I had covered them both up with two Mandala pieces. The detailed patterns helped hide the raised lines.

“Yes, they are what you’re thinking. And it was a long time ago.” I sat to face him.

I held out both arms for him to see. He traced the lines on both arms and studied them in intently.

“Why haven’t I noticed them before?”

“Well the tattoos help hide them, they’re old too so that helps. The surgeon tried to make the scar as flat as possible.”

“When?”

“About a week after my 21st birthday.”

“Why?”

“I was fed up of being in pain, it was nearly two years after the accident, the healing time was a year to 18 months. I should have been better but I was still in tremendous pain. I just had enough. I used a razor, mum found me in the bathtub. 102 stitches later, I spent 4 days in the hospital, before I came home mum made me promised I'd never do anything like that again.”

“Oh Eva.” he pulled me close.

I rested my head in the crook of his neck.

“That’s why I didn’t want to be on the set when you were filming the season 1 finale. After seeing you like that I was sick. I finally realised what my mum had seen. I called her and cried down the phone apologizing.”

He cupped my face between his hands, he had tears in his eyes. “Just promise me you won’t ever leave me.”

I smiled resting my forehead on his. “I promise Bill.”

Swedish Translations

Mormor - Grandmother.

[danlucian69]

Becoming a Mistress - Part 2

Ever since she had dominated her husband that one time, it seemed like something in their sex-life had changed. Their overall relationship had remained steady, but a strange tension had emerged within the bedroom. It was hard to explain and didn't always cause issues. They were still perfectly capable of getting off on one another and enjoying the occasional quickie, but something just didn't feel quite right anymore.

She had played the Top that one time in order to try something new and to satisfy her husband's kinky side. She had actually enjoyed it a bit more than she had expected, but she had figured it was a one-off type of thing and then he would go back to wanting to play the Top and she'd be back across his lap. She had never really liked being spanked but went along with it because she knew it turned him on. But now he no longer seemed to want to spank her. It was even rare that he would smack her on the ass during vanilla sex, which was something he used to do nearly every time they made love. She knew he still loved her, though, and since it seemed like her playing the Top had caused this she felt it was her responsibility to fix it.

After pondering the situation for several weeks, she concluded that her husband was longing for her to assume control again but he was too proud to ask. He was, after all, a man of considerable ethics and he took great pride in providing for his family and leading them in all their affairs. She loved this about him and had always sought to be his helpmate and to respect his decisions as the head of their household, even if she didn't fully agree. Thus, if he had really enjoyed having his wife dominate him, it was perfectly conceivable that he might have trouble admitting it. So, as the dutiful helpmate that she sought to be, she made it her task to help him in his admission.

That evening after supper, as they were watching television, she slipped away to the bedroom and began making things ready. She gathered the necessary instruments and donned a black leather corset and black lace panties along with a pair of fishnet stockings and her 4-inch heels. Some dark eyeliner and lipstick and she was set.

She returned to the living room where her husband was reclined on the couch fixated on the television. He saw her from his peripheral vision but had no idea what she was wearing. When she had slipped away she had also had the presence of mind to take the remote control with her, which she now put to good use.

The TV went black. “What the hell?” he said, turning to look at her with a perplexed scowl.

“My pet,” she said softly, “your Mistress has returned.”

It wasn't often his jaw literally dropped.

“Follow me to the bedroom.”

He rose and did as he was told. “Yes Mistress.”

Upon getting to the bedroom, in a very pleasant tone, she ordered him to remove all of his clothes.

He was already beginning to feel anxious because he wasn't sure what had brought this on. He nervously but quickly removed his shirt and pants. While he had enjoyed that one time she had played the role of the Mistress, he had not been sure she would ever do it again. He had been embarrassed to ask her to since it felt awkward to ask the person he fantasized of spanking to now spank and dominate him.

Tonight, though, he was mainly nervous because he feared that perhaps she was actually angry with him about something. The way she had coldly turned the television off and the way she was coolly giving orders made him worry that he had really upset her and this was her way of dealing with it. But that wasn't her normal way of coping, so he was really perplexed. He finished undressing and awaited further instructions.

“Come here pet and put your collar on.”

He did as he was told. The collar was the one she had used last time – the one with the nipple clamps attached to it by chains. She placed the collar around his neck and then leaned over and bit his right nipple hard.

“Ow!”

Standing back up she placed a clamp on his left nipple and twisted it even harder. “Aw, did that hurt, my pet?”

“No Mistress,” he said shakily.

“Really?” she said, as she twisted the clamp a bit more.

“Ow! Yes Mistress! It did hurt! It does hurt! Aaahh!”

She let go of the clamp. “Do not lie to me. When I ask you a question, I expect an honest answer. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress. I'm sorry Mistress.”

“Very well.”

She placed the other clamp on his right nipple. “Now, lay down on the bed face up so I can tie you down.”

“Yes Mistress.” He did as he was told and she cuffed his wrists and ankles and tied him down spread-eagle.

She then placed a blindfold over his eyes. “I know you like looking at my ass in these lace panties, so consider this part of your punishment.” She laid down on the bed beside him and drizzled some lube on his penis and began slowly stroking it.

“Now it's time to have a little chat,” she said.

He shook his head in confusion. “About what Mistress?”

“About why you've been acting so strange in the bedroom ever since I made you my pet.”

He laughed nervously. “What are you talking about?”

She continued stroking his cock. “Oh, I think you know. You are a sexy, strong, smart man, and I love you dearly. But I think you've been too proud to ask me to dominate you again.”

“But...” he started to say.

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, as she squeezed his cock harder. “I have also noticed that you no longer seem to want me the way you always have. You don't ask to spank me anymore and you don't even smack my ass during sex – not even in doggy style – and... oh, my pet,” she leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I know how much you love my ass.”

“I do love your ass Mistress.”

“And what do you like to do most with it?” she said playfully.

“Uh... I really like to spank it... Mistress.”

“Mmmm... well you won't be doing that tonight. Anyway, back to my point, I've decided that since I was the one that put you in this predicament of not being able to tell me what you want, then I should help you get out of it. So tonight, I want you to tell me what you really want – your wildest fantasies. But as I said – do not lie to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good.”

She began stroking his cock extremely fast and he thought he might blow his load but she perceived he was already close and abruptly stopped. She reached to the bedside table and picked up a silicone cock ring and put it in her mouth to lubricate it – then she slid it down to the base of his erection. As she did he let out a low moan as he concentrated on not cumming too soon.

“Maybe that will hold things steady a bit longer,” she said. “Now, tell me what you need from your Mistress.”

“I... I don't... I don't know Mistress.”

She twisted his left nipple hard. “Don't be shy. You can tell me. Do you like this?” she said, as she twisted his other nipple.

“Ah! Yes Mistress! I do! I do!”

“Mmmm, I thought so. What else?” she said, as she sunk her teeth into his collorbone.

He squirmed. “I really liked eating your pussy Mistress.”

“But of course you did – that was your reward. But I don't have to be your Mistress for you to eat my pussy. What else do you need?” She gave his cock a quick stroke to be sure she had his attention.

“Well... I did... I did kind of like the riding crop.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“I mean, it did hurt pretty bad, but when I think back on it, that was pretty hot the way you had me on all fours.”

“I remember. What else?” she said, as she again began to torture his nipples. “Did you like the paddle?”

He trembled slightly. “Uummm... I'm not sure. It hurt like hell.”

She twisted one of the clamps harder. “As it was meant to.”

“Ah! Yes Mistress!”

She kept twisting. “So do you need the paddle again?”

“No Mistress! Not tonight – please!”

“So you're saying you might need it some other night?” she said in a teasing voice.

“No... I mean... maybe... I don't know... I just don't think I can handle it tonight.”

“Very well. So what else do you need?”

“Um... I can't really think of anything else Mistress.”

“Are you sure?” she said, with a mockingly sad yet scornful tone. “If you can't tell me, I'll just have to decide for myself.”

“Well... there was one other thing... but I don't really want to say it.”

She twisted the other nipple hard. “Tell your Mistress everything,” she said in a raspy voice.

“I... I liked...”

“Yes?” she said, twisting the clamp the other way.

“I really liked it when you pulled my face into your ass Mistress!”

She released his nipple and he relaxed into the bed.

“There now!” she said. “Was that so hard to admit? Don't you feel better?”

“Yes... yes Mistress,” he said tensely.

“Let's get started then.”

With that she slipped her panties off and swung her leg across his chest and placed her ass down on his face.

“Is this what you've been needing?”

A muffled “Yes Mistress,” came from beneath her.

She bounced on his face. “And you've been too embarrassed to ask?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Then show me how grateful you are with your tongue,” she ordered.

“Yes Mistress.”

He began licking her taint and working his way toward her anus. He hated he couldn't see what he was doing but it also intensified the experience. She bounced her delicious bottom on his face as she reached down and twisted both nipple clamps. He let out a deep groan as he kept licking her back door.

“That's right my pet,” she said, “show me how much you love that ass!”

She reached and grabbed a large vibrator and put it on the highest setting and pressed it against his cock. “Now be careful not to cum, my pet, or I'll be forced to get the paddle out.”

He focused with all his might not to cum, hoping that the cock ring would continue to constrain him. But it was no use – he was so turned on by her ass the vibrator sent him straight to orgasm. Just as she wrapped her other hand around his cock it erupted.

He let out a loud moan.

Surprisingly, his Mistress didn't hinder him but quickly began stroking his cock faster, helping him finish with a fantastic orgasm.

“That's right my pet! Just keep eating my ass while you cum!”

He kept licking and sucking until he was finished and then sunk into the bed.

She dismounted and gently cleaned him off.

“Hmmm...” she said, as she removed his cock ring, “I guess the rest of your session really is going to be punishment now.”

“Do what?” he said, without realizing that their session wasn't over yet.

She squeezed his sensitive cock and twisted one of the nipple clamps hard. “Just because you couldn't control your cock doesn't mean we're done here – you must still give me my pleasure. Plus, I now have to punish you for cumming too soon.”

He realized there was no point arguing. “Yes Mistress.”

She released him from his restraints and removed his blindfold. “Now, get on your knees with your face down and put your bottom up. I must retrieve something.” She went to the bathroom and returned with the large black silicone paddle. “As I said, I wasn't planning on using this, but since you came too soon this is an appropriate punishment for not controlling yourself. Don't you agree?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Very well. Now, as we did last time, I want you to count and then thank me for each lick. Is that clear?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good.”

Smack!

“One. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Two. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Three. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Four. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Five. Thank you Mistress.”

She paused and let the paddle rest on his bottom. “You're doing so good, I'm very proud of you my pet, even if you did cum too soon. Tell me, how does this feel since you already came?”

His sarcasm got the best of him. “Oh it just feels wonderful Mistress!”

SMACK!!!

“Oooww!”

“Now there was no need for that kind of attitude,” she said calmly, “that disappoints me greatly. I will now have to give you five additional licks for being snarky. Now count.”

Smack!

“Seven...”

“No!” SMACK!

“Ah! What's wrong? That was seven!”

“You've forgotten the rules – that's what's wrong.”

SMACK!

“Licks for disobedience do not get counted until I've told you how many there will be.”

“But you never explained that...” SMACK! “Oooowww!”

“You were saying?”

“I'm sorry for not understanding Mistress. My mistake.”

“Yes it was your mistake.” SMACK! “Now try not to let it happen again. Now, your next lick will still be six since you still have not counted it. Are you ready?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Smack!

“Six. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Seven. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Eight. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Nine. Thank you Mistress.”

Smack!

“Ten. Thank you Mistress.”

She rested the paddle against his red bottom. “Now, since you've been so disobedient, I'm going to administer your additional five very fast and very hard. You do not have to count, but if you cannot keep your bottom in the air and keep it still then I will give you another five without pausing. Do you understand?”

“Yes.... yes Mistress,” he said shakily.

SMACK! SMACK!

These were really hard! He hated having his bottom like this and wished he was laying flat so his skin wasn't stretched so tight.

SMACK! SMACK!

He couldn't take it and he collapsed onto the bed.

SMACK! “That'll be five more,” she said without pausing.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

He groaned and screamed into the bed.

SMACK! SMACK!!!

He let out a loud groan that also served as a sigh of relief.

“You look tired my pet,” she said. “You need to save your strength. You still have to pleasure me when I'm done with you. Now get up and come stand at the foot of the bed.”

“Yes Mistress.”

As he came to the foot of the bed she retrieved her leather riding crop.

“Place your hands on the bed,” she ordered. As he assumed his position she added, “I will be giving you twelve licks – six on each cheek – and I expect you to count these correctly. If you do a good job then your painful punishment will be over and I might still let you lick my pussy. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good. Let's begin.”

SMACK!

“Aaah! One! Thank you Mistress!”

SMACK! “Two! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Three! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Four! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Five! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Six! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Seven! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Eight! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Nine! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK! “Ten! Thank you Mistress.”

SMACK!

This one caught him off guard. He forgot they were going to twelve.

“Oooowww! What... I mean... eleven! Thank you Mistress!”

SMACK!!!

“Twelve! Thank you! Thank you Mistress!”

She clicked her tongue and reached down and squeezed his ass. “Mmmm... you just barely saved yourself there at the end. I guess I can give you a taste of my pussy, but since you stammered I will not let you finish me. She slid in front of him and sat on the bed with her legs spread. “But you can get me started.” She grabbed both nipple clamps and twisted them as she drew him down to his knees. Then she gripped his head and thrust it into her cunt. “Show me how grateful you are for your Mistress!”

He began licking her soft wet lips up and down very slowly, breathing hotly on her already wet pussy. Finally he worked his tongue between her lips and began to massage her. Up and down. He then made his tongue rigid and inserted it as deep in her pussy as he could.

“That's right – I know you love eating my pussy! Find my G spot!”

He found it and began working his tongue in a “come here” motion.

Once her G spot was satisfied she grabbed his hair. “Now lick my clit.”

“Yes Mistress!” he said, eagerly thrusting his face upward.

He placed the tip of his tongue right on her clit and began flicking it as fast as he could. She could feel herself beginning to get very close. She pushed his head back. He looked up at her – puzzled and disappointed.

“I told you – for your stammering you won't get to eat me all the way. Now fetch my vibrator.”

With a dejected look he slowly got up. “Yes Mistress.”

When he returned he found her in the doggy position with her feet hanging over the foot of the bed and her lovely ass on display. She was already massaging her clit with one hand.

“Put the vibrator in your mouth to lubricate it,” she said in an intoxicating tone, “then put it in my pussy and give me the remote.”

He did as he was told and she began to rub the vibrator over all the right places.

“Now,” she said, “get on your knees and eat my ass while I cum.”

“Yes Mistress.”

He instinctively grabbed her ass to steady himself, as he placed his mouth between her cheeks.

“Did I tell you to put your hands on my ass?” she asked sharply.

“No Mistress.” He quickly put his hands by his side. “I'm sorry Mistress.”

“That's better. Put that tongue to good use. I know you like my ass.”

He licked up and down her crack – down to her taint and back up over her anus. She began to moan with pleasure as the combination of the vibrator and his tongue overwhelmed her. She could feel the orgasm coming. “Just a little more,” she thought, “just a little more.”

“Spank me!” she ordered.

He slapped her right cheek hard.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Again!”

Slap!

“Yes! Both hands!!!”

SLAP!!!

“Yes!!!”

She clinched her ass and thighs, as she turned the vibrator wide open. He felt the vibrator intensify and pressed his tongue hard against her ass.

“Oooooooooohhhhhhh yeeeeeeesssss!!!!!!!!!!! Yes!!! Yes!!! Yeeeeeeeeeessssssssssss!!!!!!!!!”

She relaxed into the bed. He slowly pulled his face away.

“Now my pet, go wash your mouth and then come cuddle with me.”

“Yes Mistress.”

[xxsparksxx]

Hello! In the show, Caroline and Demelza's friendship seems to happen almost without our really realizing it (it seems more gradual than ex. Demelza and Verity's) but one thing I wonder was what drew them together in the books? Caroline seems the one more actively pursing that friendship earlier on in the TV version, and that was intriguing. She's not the snob she pretends to be, but she's not like Dwight where class is almost a non-issue. Thank you for your analysis :)

Their friendship in the books is definitely slower to grow, and at first it’s entirely about Caroline being Dwight’s fiance - that’s the only real connection between them. They’ve met socially on a handful of occasions, of course - and Caroline has, of course, saved Ross and Demelza from bankruptcy - but the first time Demelza meets Caroline on a more intimate footing, it’s when Ross brings Caroline and Dwight back together, and brings them both to Nampara for Christmas, at the end of ‘Warleggan’. To my mind, it’s a much nicer beginning for them as a quartet than the wedding in 3.01, but ah well:

‘Have you three extra bedrooms you could get ready for tonight?’‘Three? . . . Why, who is coming? What have you arranged?’‘I have brought Caroline back with me. Caroline and her maid.’Demelza opened her eyes. ‘Where is she? Do you mean at her uncle’s?’‘She is with him now. But I invited her here to supper, and I want you to put her and her maid up over Christmas.’‘Over Christmas? Gladly. I’d lay special carpets for her if I had them. But it’s awful short notice, Ross! And I don’t quite understand . . .’‘We stayed a night in Plymouth and then came on. The story of her engagement was overhasty. There was no truth in it. When I heard that, I felt most of our old misgivings should be set aside and I tried my hand as matchmaker. Of course I hadn’t your skill, and at first she would have none of it. But on my second visit she decided to nibble at the bait. We saw Dwight in Plymouth.’‘Yes?’‘I believe they have made it up. He travelled back with us and, if we can fix him in, will stay here too.’

Demelza, being Demelza, is rather anxious about the arrangements, but it all comes off nicely. And it’s on this evening that Ross makes it clear that, with Dwight away, he and Demelza will be there for Caroline:

‘When Dwight has gone, so long as you stay with your uncle, I hope you’ll come and sup with us once or twice a week. It will help the time to pass.’‘After Dwight has gone, I shall wake up sometimes and wonder if all this week has been a dream. I think I shall have to come here for reassurance. I hope my uncle improves so that I can tell him the truth.’‘If you are in any difficulty, come straight here,’ Ross said. ‘We will put you up for as long as necessary.’ Caroline looked at Demelza before replying. ‘Your husband’s committing you very deep.’Demelza said: ‘Well, no deeper than I’d want to go or be willing to go tomorrow.’

So they don’t really strike up a friendship at this point as such, but they do begin to know each other much better and to become friendlier. But yes, at this point, it’s about Dwight. Dwight is the connection between them, the reason they have for knowing each other and for growing to know each other better.

It’s once Dwight is away at sea, and then captured in France, that the friendship really blossoms between Caroline and Demelza. Because really, there are very few people who don’t grow to love Demelza once they know her, and Caroline proves to Demelza, quietly but quickly enough, that she’s not such a snob as to turn her nose up at Demelza’s background, or her working life, or any of it. Her snobbery is, as you say, a lot of pretence - and I maintain that when she acts the snob to/with Dwight, it’s to provoke him into a reaction! - but she’s very aware of class distinctions in a sort of casual, every-day manner. I think, with Demelza, Caroline sees Demelza’s insecurities and never teases her about them, never chides her for still feeling like that. She must know that she’s an example, to Demelza, of how gentlewomen behave, but she never demonstrates that she’s aware of being an example. Does that make sense?

Anyway, the scene I’m talking about where Caroline proves to Demelza that she’s not a real snob, is a beaautiful scene. Normally it would be far, far too long for me to post, but it’s one of my favourite bits of interaction between them, so I’m going to put it under a read more. It really shows how they begin to relate to each other not just as ‘Dwight’s fiance’ and ‘Ross’s wife’, but as two women, two human beings. There is a subtle understanding that begins to grow between them, stemming from this scene, which is why I feel it’s so important and why I love it so much! I wish, I dearly wish that they’d kept it in the show in some form. Afterwards, they simply are friends: Caroline becomes Demelza’s greatest female friend, the person to whom Demelza turns when she cannot turn to Ross (about Hugh Armitage, for example). But this scene is a turning point for them. This scene begins to make their friendship about something other than Dwight.I will edit a few odd bits, just for brevity.

   Caroline was standing by the window looking taller than ever in a grey waisted riding habit and small fur hat. The bright light silhouetted her figure but concealed her expression as she turned.    ‘Demelza, I am renowned for arriving at inopportune moments. I hope you are well.’   ‘Yes, well, but just at this minute, as Jane will have said . . . But stay. Stay to dinner. If you can excuse me for the next quarter of an hour . . .’   They had kissed, but a little uncertain of each other.   Caroline held Demelza at arm’s length before releasing her. ‘I could hardly have told even now. How long is it?’   ‘About six weeks, I suppose.’ Suddenly her mind jumped on. ‘You have news of Ross?’   ‘Oh, no. You will have the first news, my dear. I came only to see you.’   ‘Well, make yourself comfortable. Sit down and rest. Is your horse seen to? . . . Oh, what a fine horse! Is he your own?’   ‘I have had him two years – since my twenty-first birthday. But look, must I be punished for coming at this wrong time by being made to sit here like a naughty girl? May I not keep you company?’   ‘Well . . . baking bread is tedious, and the kitchen will be overwarm for you after your ride and—’   ‘Would you believe it, I have not seen bread made since I used to steal into the kitchen in my mother’s house. But perhaps it would embarrass you if I came?’    This was precisely what it would do, but Demelza had to protest it would not, so presently they went together into the kitchen, to Jane Gimlett’s manifest confusion, for she clearly thought that whatever Mrs Poldark chose to do in her own home was her own business but that this was certainly no place for a lady of Miss Penvenen’s birth and breeding. In the end she dropped a basin and knocked over a stool when bending to pick it up, so Demelza sent her off to do something in the still room, promising to recall her when the fire wanted taking out of the oven.   ‘Where is Jeremy?’ Caroline asked, perching on the stool that had now been set upright again. ‘He is well?’   ‘Yes, thank you. Though he is always ailing little things. He is not at all like Julia, my first child, who never ailed one day all her life until she caught the morbid sore throat that killed her. You’ll stay to dinner?’   ‘I would like to, but thank you, Uncle Ray has taken the fancy for me to dine in his room. Although he eats little himself he seems to like the sight of another doing what he cannot.’  (.......omitted for brevity......)   It was the first time these two women had talked alone, and they were still not at ease. Demelza was conscious of her homely clothes, her homely occupation, her ungainly appearance, while this elegant red-haired girl sat on a stool and tapped her riding boot and watched her. Nowadays she seldom felt conscious of her humble origin when dealing with people, she had been Mrs Ross Poldark for seven years and that was enough. But Caroline was a rather special case: someone for whom she could only feel friendship and gratitude but someone almost of her own age whose upbringing had been a world away from hers, who did not soil her hands with work one day in the year and who always talked so casually even when serious. Someone, moreover, for whom Ross at this moment was risking his life and liberty.    ‘Why do you knead each lump so long?’ Caroline asked.   ‘Because if I don’t the bread will have holes in it. We eat a lot of bread. There are five loaves here and a little over. Perhaps if I made you a small one with this smaller piece you would like to take it back with you?’   ‘Thank you. It’s my birthday, so I shall look on it as a present.’   ‘Oh, it is not good enough for that! Happy returns! I wish . . .’   ‘What do you wish?’   ‘I was thinking out loud. I’m sorry . . . I wish that Ross could come back today with the news we both seek.’   ‘Do not be sorry for saying that.’   ‘I’m not sorry for wishing it, but I am superstitious. It appears to me it is something we should not talk about.’   ‘Well, that may be so . . . But sometimes I think while I am cooped up in that old house that I must talk to someone about it or I shall go out of my mind. Demelza, I am sorry to have brought this anxiety on you.’   Demelza began to lift the round masses of kneaded dough on to a metal tray. ‘Ross tells me there is little risk.’   ‘But it must give you anxiety, his being in France at this time. I think I should tell you that it is not at my request that he has gone.’   ‘I don’t suppose it is. Even though you have good right to request it.’   ‘No . . . No one could ever have that right.’   This part done, Demelza stood back and rubbed her hands down her apron and then with the back of her wrist pushed the dank hair away from her eyes. ‘He has been gone a week and four days. If all goes as planned he should be home soon.’   ‘I dread his coming.’   ‘Let us go back into a more comfortable place. There is nothing more I can do here for ten minutes or so.’   They went back and chatted for a time. The thing Caroline most needed was to talk, and to talk specially of Dwight, which she now did in her helplessly flippant way, apologizing every now and then for boring her listener with such a tedious recital. Presently they went back into the kitchen together and Demelza went under the arch of the stove, opened the iron door of the oven and raked out the white hot remnants of the gorse. Then Caroline lifted the other end of the heavy tray and they slid it into the oven. On this came Jeremy crying out for food, and in the end Caroline was persuaded to stay to dinner with them after all. (.......omitted for length.....)   ‘No, no, thank you, my dear, for your consideration, but Uncle Ray will already be in a relapse after missing me for so long. It will take me until I don’t know what time to get home, and I must fly at once.’   ‘I’ll tell Gimlett to bring your horse.’   ’I’m sure I have wearied you with all this talk. But, you know, at Killewarren, I cannot behave openly at all. I cannot fret except in my own room. If Dwight is dead I am not even his widow. I am nothing. Which is perhaps what I rightly deserve to be.’   Demelza kissed her. ‘Let us wait and hope.’   A few minutes later Caroline was riding her white horse over the stream and up the valley. Just before she disappeared among the straggling trees she turned and raised her hand. Demelza waved back and then went in.

(The Black Moon, pp195-200)

[margsld]

Outlander Epi 3.03 Recap

All Debts Paid like a good, Red-Coated Lannister should.

As always we salute the writer of each episode. This magical one is written by the legendary Exec Producer, Photographer, Location Scout and super fan - Matthew B Roberts. *raises glass

Boston, 1956. Claire and Frank really should have learned not to have breakfast together by now.  Sure Frank is the cook this time and damn, I can almost smell that bacon-grease fried bread but all this white fashion and happy conversation is giving me indigestion. Far from book Frank, TV Frank is a cheater! GASP But he’s discreet. Oh, that makes it better then...NOT.

Meanwhile in Sunny Northern Scotland, it’s 1755 at Ardsmuir Prison.  Harry Quarry aka Old Geezer, is giving a dashing Lord John Grey (SWOON & SQUEE for Oz actor David Berry) the 10 schilling tour of his new Govenor-ing responsibilities.  Whisky is the only hightlight of being banished to the Northern-most post. Slainte! Short of hanging Lord John, this is hell itself especially since Kilts were banished post-Culloden.  Goodbye knee-porn. *reaches for a tissue

They arrive in Ardsmuir’s happy place, the yard bursting with grinning prisoners, leaping about in the sunshine. Or not. Old Geezer points out the fully clothed (drats)  Red Jamie aka Hooligan of the Highlands, who has plagued Lord John’s conscience since their last meeting. Lord John is too swoony to speak. There he was, standing right there in the shadows of the yard looking like the artful Dodger himself.  Any shiftier looking and he’d swing out an arm, only for a ladder of fake Rolex’s to appear for a fiver each.

Harry tells Lord John that he had supper with Mr Fraser, aka Mac Dubh weekly because who wouldn’t, ye fool.  Also, the other prisoners saw him as their leader and it kept the prison pleasant. That and 400 juicy rats.  Mac Dubh was not to be trusted though and was trussed up like a xmas ham in chains. Lord John declares he’ll not dine with that....I think he’s going to say ‘Spunk Rat’ here but then realises Harry would hear him and it could get awkward.  Instead, he ops for ‘Prisoner’ and we carry on.   

When it’s time to clinker back to his luxurious cell, Jamie tinkles like xmas bell until he finds a little perch. A nasty cough is heard from behind him and then a familiar voice asks if he’s met the new governer?  For the love of all things grumpy, it’s Murtagh!  Hooray! He’s forgotten to brush his teeth since Claire left and rats are eating him alive but more concerning to Dr Jamie is his cough. 

Forget where Murtagh’s been for the last umpteen years, we want to hear all about the new fella....  Jamie says he’s young, scairce more‘n a bairn which translates to.... well.... young.  Prison obviously makes you a bit gay because Jamie then notes his carriage *cough, his square shoulders then talks about his arse.  No wait, he has a ramrod up his arse.  This translates to 'educated and posh'.

Jamie is invited to chat with Lord John in his quarters, as Hazza Quazza suggested.  A rat crawls out of the dark and Lord John is mortified.  He demands a cat chase the fat rat until it’s splat.  No time for Dr Zeuss Jamie says, the cats would stop the gourmet cooking classes in the cells. Then what would bored prisoners do? 

Claire has finally graduated from Medical school and has a party at the house.  Bree is taking photos to mark the occasion and neglects to put herself in a picture.  Good parenting.  Frank is eager for them all to leave for their dinner reservations. Not suspicious at all, Frank.  Wasn’t he M16? Oopsey, Claire finds a pretty blonde lady on the doorstep.  Double oopsey, Frank didn’t mean to have his mistress turn up early.  So busted.  Claire decides its suddenly quite normal to go to reservations an hour early and clears the party goers out toot-sweet while Frank and little Miss Early-pants stand aside pretending they are decorative palms. Oh Frank.

The hills are alive with the sound of a ranting madman in Scotland.  Red coats find a hobo wandering near the coast and take him into custody. Duncan Kerr rants about Gold and curses so of course the Red coats get excited.  Lord John, smelling his golden ticket back to civilisation, hurries to Jamie to make a deal.  He’ll lose the Emo jewellery if he translates the madman’s Gailidgh and French ramblings. It's a deal.

Frank comes home from his hot date with Candy, errh, Mandy or is it Sandy and Claire is waiting for him.  He’s visibly drunk and she’s visibly ready to insert his British-issue ramrod! Claire accuses him of humiliating her in front of her colleagues.  Frank slurs ditto and that her face is like glass; no one at his work believes in their sham marriage anyway.  Claire gets snippy about his girlfriend and Frank says Sandy is no harlot, she has a PHD in linguistics.  Who saw that coming?    PS I want that bar!  He poors another drink because we all know you win arguments when you are drunker!  She asks if they’ve done the horizontal tango in their bedroom and Frank lashes back with a stinging “I think our bedroom is too crowded already”. Ouch Claire.  That’s a fine serving of karma pie you’ve just choked on.

It’s cheery days over at Ardsmuir resort too.  Jamie is trying to work out what the near-dead Duncan is raving about.  He is very interested when Duncan mentions the McKenzie, Ellen marrying silkies and a White Witch.  I fear he’s stumbled across some cocaine hustler but he insists that the Gold is cursed and the white witch will come for Jamie.  Spooked af.  Jamie tells the eavesdropping Lord John that Duncan was not making much sense.  John smells a rat and this time its a big red, unshaven Scottish rat not telling the truth.  He threatens to get it out of Jamie but Jamie just snorts.  Umm been there, done that, bought the Black Jack Tshirt already, Lord John.

Bree turns 16 and it’s evident Claire and Frank are no longer on the same page. 

Murtagh is getting more Dr Jamie medicine.  Does anyone else think perhaps it’s Jamie’s healing skills causing them all to be sick in the first place?  Murtagh is curious about Duncan Kerr’s news and when he hears of the story including a White Witch, he launches into some purvey memory about Claire and how often he thinks of her.  It’s kinda creepy but hey, prison. What is in that tea, Jamie?

 Lord John summons Jamie for supper.  Jamie decides that’s a great time to suggest the Governor let the men roam the moors and set traps so they can catch their own meat, since the British are too stingy.  At first Lord John thinks he’s pulling his leg but then Jamie explains it's another rat under the table. The prisoners can set their traps while out Peat collecting.  Oh well that’s alright then! They have supper together and Lord John explains the lack of intelligence of a pheasant but it’s good with red wine sauce.  Jamie takes a bite and instantly has a foodgasm. 

Later, back at story time in his cell, Fraser decides sweet-talking the cellmates to sleep with his tales of buttery rolls, is a kindness.  He's gone saft in the heid. If it was me sharing a cell and missing the good food, I’d tear him limb from limb.  Or lick him. A lot.

Lord John now surely needs anxiety medication, after Jamie jumps him while out taking a leak beyond the prison walls.  Jamie had escaped from the Peat Gang a few days earlier and now had returned.  Jamie confronts Lord John about their history and tries to insight him to kill him as he promised the first time they met.  John refuses to kill an unarmed man and they share a look. It's love blossoming.

They wander the nearby field shooting the breeze, as you do. John listens carefully as Jamie reveals why he had to go see if Claire was the white witch, Duncan was raving about.  And of the gold?  Jamie says he found an empty box with one jewel remaining and hands Lord John a perfectly cut sapphire. They are now BFFs.

Quick bounce back to Bree graduating in 1966 from high school. Claire chooses to wear white again. I’m sensing a pattern here.

In Ardsmuir, Lord John refuses to deny his fave prisoner’s requests.  Who can say no to that big red lion.  Lord John gets Murtagh a proper doctor.  Jamie can stop collecting Watercress now and Murtagh is vera grateful.

Jamie is playing chess with Lord John and they bond over wicked moves and their lost loves.  John confesses to losing his boyfiend at Culloden and Jamie tells John that his wife was called something starting with C. Umm, yeah, that’s it Claire.  She loved festering boils like no other.  John is impressed and jealous all at once.  More reminiscing ensues about their first meeting.... “If you found a 16 year old shitting himself a worthy opponent Mr Fraser, then it’s no wonder the highland army was defeated”.  Nah, it was the stupid bravery that impressed him mostly.  Is John blushing?  They bond like super glue to a shoe and things are going rosy.  They talk of that fun time he thought they were raping Claire too - oh the scallywags. 

Things get melancholy because alcohol. These two girls can’t handle their plonk and Lord John goes in for a raunchy hand caress.  Jamie suddenly realises he’s on the menu and tells John to take his hand off him or he’ll replace his ramrod with his sword.  John realises he’s just made a mammoth mistake and things are more tense than a rat in a prison cell before lunch time.  Jamie leaves in disgust and Lord John sheds a tear, for he needed new pants again. *squelch

Frank tells Claire he wants to move to England and take Bree now that she’s 18. She could go to Oxford while he works at Cambridge and Sandy, Mandy & Candy can come be his proper wife/wives.  Claire tells him no frikkin way. Bree is hers and he can’t take her.  He reminds Claire that every time she looks at Bree she sees Jamie and he just wants to live with a wife who loves him.  Fair point.  Insert shit storm and tears here.  He storms off out the door with his keys just as the phone rings.  Claire is called to the hospital for surgery. 

Ardsmuir is closing as it’s too comfy now for prisoners and the next garrison want to move in.  They insist they have a better recipe for Rat stew.  Jamie is pulled out of a line up away from Murtagh and is told he is being moved elsewhere.  The others will be indentured and sent to the colonies (America).  It’s a hideous moment where we are all waiting for Jamie to start struggling and shouting and trying to get back to Murtagh before they are separated by a whole ocean but it doesn’t happen. They can only exchange manly looks. Snow is falling as Jamie is tied to Lord John on a horse and is forced to walk for days.  There is little chit chat during their journey.  Lord John says they’ll have to talk eventually.  Jamie is still sulking about Murtagh but Lord John says they'll only be slaves for 14 years.  No biggy.

They eventually stop on a barren hill overlooking an extremely large estate. Ok it’s more of a palace but it’s home for now.  Helwater Estate is owned by the Dunsany’s and Lord John has arranged for Jamie to live there for now.  He explains it really is the best he could do for Jamie, short of a pardon and he should be totes grateful.  They kiss and make up and stride off into the sunset. 

Claire is soothing a patient’s stressed relative when she sees Dr Joe coming with his serious face. This can’t be good.  It’s Frank!  Nooooooooooooo!   There’s been a car accident.  Well, stick a fork in me I am done as all the feels are happening on my face.  Damn onions. 

Claire races to the morgue to see that he is indeed dead. As she enters the room, my heart shatters with hers.  Frank’s face is without a scratch and so surely he’ll pop up in a minute like Jon Snow.  Give it a minute...... ok, one more minute..... Nope. *ugly crying  She finds his dead neck most magnetic and goes in for a whiff or a kiss, we aren’t sure.  It’s a bit weird.  Claire confesses to his nearby spirit that she really did love him *eyeroll and that he was her first love. Nawwww. *tears again.  Claire slowly leans in for a final kiss and a tear rolls down her face onto Frank’s nose.  Gahh!  Too blurry to type more..... 

The End.

[justlookfrightened]

Second part of Neighbors AU, Chapter 10

Read Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Read it on AO3

Jack pulled at his tie and let his bag slip to the floor while he waited for the elevator. He checked his watch: 3:20 a.m. And it felt like every joint in his body ached. Three games in five days in three cities as the season turned toward the homestretch. He thought about the door sliding open and Eric stepping out, like he had the first time they’d seen one another, but it was too early for that. Eric wouldn’t be leaving for the bakery for another what, hour and a half? But the lateness of the hour made it clear why Eric had gently said he’d be asleep in his own bed, in his own apartment, when Jack came home. Eric would have to get up in less than an hour, and he didn’t need Jack waking him now. And as much as Jack wished he could slip in between already-warm sheets and press up against Eric, letting his slow, rhythmic breaths lull him to sleep, he wouldn’t want to be awakened by Eric’s alarm minutes after he dropped off.

He’d see Eric later, he knew that. But the idea of waiting until almost midday, when he would be likely to wake up, hurt. It twisted something in his gut to know that Eric was upstairs, just steps from his apartment, and Jack was going to go up and not see him, then go to sleep and when he woke up, Eric wouldn’t be there anymore.

Crisse,Jack thought. What’s happened to me? He took the elevator up, used his key to let himself in, and smiled at the pie and note on the counter. Apparently, welcome-home pie was going to be a thing. He could live with that. The note reminded him that there was food in the refrigerator and prepared meals in the freezer, and asked if Jack wanted to go to the rink with Eric on Saturday. A question that hardly needed to be asked since they had talked about it while Jack was gone. He supposed Eric was giving him a way out if he was too tired. He wouldn’t be too tired, certainly not too tired to watch Eric as he danced and leapt and spun, his blades flashing silver while his hair sparked gold. It was 3:25 and he was tired and he hurt and he was thirsty and he hadn’t eaten since 11 p.m. Going to bed without water and nutrition wouldn’t be wise, he told himself. He didn’t need a whole meal from the freezer, just some carbs and protein to keep himself going, let his muscles start to rebuild themselves. Well, he could certainly scramble an egg and make toast. Especially since Eric had left some of the good bread. And he never wanted to sleep right after eating, so he unpacked his bag, dumping dirty clothes in the hamper, rehanging one suit, putting the other in the bag for the dry cleaner. 4:15. Eric should be waking up now. Jack opened his door enough that he could see and hear when Eric left his apartment, and settled down with a well-thumbed copy of “Guns, Germs and Steel.” Sure enough, just after 4:30, Jack heard the whoosh and snick of Eric’s door opening and closing. He got up and opened his door all the way, stepping out as Eric approached the elevator. “Jack!” Eric said, pulling his earbuds out and pulling Jack into a hug. “Why are you awake? Was your flight late? Did you just get home?” “I got home about an hour ago,” Jack said, drawing Eric into the elevator by the hand when the door opened. “I really didn’t want to sleep until I saw you, and I didn’t want to wake you early, so I figured I’d just wait. Can I walk you to the bakery?” “Of course,” Eric said, still smiling at him. “Lord, I missed you. Jack dropped Eric’s hand when they left the elevator -- sure it was before 5 a.m., but there were a handful of early runners and late party-goers out -- but they walked close enough together for Eric’s shoulder to occasionally brush the top of Jack’s arm. Jack told Eric about the games -- a 2-1 win over Charlotte and 3-0 shutout over the Panthers -- and Eric talked about the bakery. Neither of them brought up the Twitter mess from earlier in the week. When Eric unlocked the door and let himself in, Jack followed. He walked through the front into the back, making sure they were really alone, then pulled Eric close and kissed him. “If I wake up before you leave, I’ll walk you home, too,” Jack said. “You need to sleep,” Eric said. “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna need a nap this afternoon anyway.” “Then come and take it with me,” Jack said. “Then we can get up and go to the rink.” “If that’s what you want,” Eric said. “I’ll remember to bring something for Rich. You want anything special for supper?” “Whatever you want is good,” Jack said. “As long as you’re there.”

**************************

Sugar ‘n’ Spice was busy all day, busier than usual for a Saturday, but that had been par for the course this week. Eric had hardly stopped moving all day when it finally quieted down at around 1 p.m. There were still a few customers at the tables, but the line was gone and Dex assured Eric that he could handle it for now and would let Eric know if he needed help. “Thanks, Dex,” Eric said. “I’ve got to make the menu for next week and get some orders in if I don’t want to end up coming in both days this weekend.” “Falcs are home tomorrow, aren’t they?” Dex said, with a little bit of a smirk. “Don’t you chirp me,” Eric said. “But yes.” His phone buzzed almost as soon as he sat down. Matthew. “Garrrh. Is he watching me?” Eric said under his breath. It was an unfair thought; if Matthew was going to call, he usually did it around now, after lunch but well before Eric left for the day. “Hi, Eric,” Matthew said. “I just wanted to check on how things were going. I’ve been watching the receipts -- it seems like you’ve been busier than usual this week. Everything going all right?” “Fine,” Eric said. “Just kind of run off my feet. I’m thinking we need to bring Derek Nurse a few more hours.” “Maybe,” Matthew said. “Can you tell him it’s temporary, until we see if the increase in business lasts?” “Sure,” Eric said. “I can do that. And if he can take over some of the front-of-house work, I can bake more and deal with the paperwork and everything.” “Any more of that social media stuff going on?” Matthew asked. “That’s when you started to get busy.” “Nothing new, really,” Eric said. “We’ve gotten more followers, though, and I’ve noticed a few new regulars, so that’s good. But I wish it didn’t come with people making ridiculous claims about me or a friend of mine.” “So Bob Zimmermann’s a friend?” Matthew asked. “Well, yes,” Eric said. “You saw the pictures. I was sitting with him at a hockey game and at dinner, and he wanted to see the kitchen here, so he helped with the prep for Falcs breakfast last weekend.” Matthew let out what looked like a low whistle. “Sounds like the claims people making weren’t that big of a leap,” Matthew said. “Defensive much?” “Oh, come on,” Eric said. “Don’t tell me you believed it?” “Not really, no,” Matthew said. “I mean, come on, his wife is still hot. How did the two of you get so close?” “Remember I told you one of the Falconers lives in my building?” Eric said. “It’s Jack Zimmermann. We got to talking, and then he started coming in to the bakery, and brought some stuff to the team. That’s how I got in with them. Then Bob and Alicia were visiting last weekend, and I ended up going to the game too, and we hit it off.” Eric stopped abruptly, realizing he was rambling. Everything he said was true, as far as it went, and he didn’t want to say more. “It’s amazing how fast that took off on Twitter,” Matthew said. “I didn’t realize until you came down to talk at the Boston site how powerful that can be for marketing.” “Well, usually the daily specials don’t get so much attention,” Eric said. “People love gossip. But one reason the Falconers like to come here is that we don’t treat them like celebrities, and our regulars are good about that too.If people spread rumors about them and it’s connected to the bakery, they won’t come around.” “They’re back in town, aren’t they?” Matthew said. “Uh, yes,” Eric said. “When did you become a hockey fan?” “I just started following them a couple of weeks ago,” Matthew said. “When I found out my bakery was one of the Falconers’ favorite spots.” Something clicked in Eric’s mind. “Huh,” he said. “That’s when the person who started the whole Twitter thing made their account. And they followed the bakery and the Falconers right away. It took them a little longer to find my personal Twitter.” Matthew was silent. “All I know is that if it doesn’t stop, the Falconers won’t be using us anymore,” Eric said. “They can’t figure out why anyone would go after Bob Zimmermann, though.” “Maybe they just thought it would be a good joke, and no one would believe it.” Matthew said. “Maybe they didn’t want to start something with one of the current players because maybe it would cause too much trouble.” “Maybe,” Eric said. “Maybe if someone spreads any more rumors about me online I’ll have to quit. For the good of the bakery.” **************************

After leaving Eric at Sugar ‘n’ Spice, Jack took himself home, stripped down to his boxer briefs and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. He slept straight through until noon, then got up and put one of Eric’s prepared meals in the oven to heat. He showered and dressed in track pants and a gray Falconers T-shirt, checked his lunch and picked up his phone. He thought about calling Eric to check in, but decided against it. He didn’t want to smother. Instead, he turned the TV on and queued up a Netflix documentary to watch while he ate. He was just getting into it when he heard his phone vibrate on the kitchen counter. He thought about not getting up to get it; he didn’t want to be one of those people who was constantly attached to his phone, and he was comfortable with his plate on his lap. Before Eric, he would have ignored it. Before there was anyone he wanted to talk to on the phone. But now there was Eric, and maybe he had something he wanted to tell Jack, so Jack put his plate on the coffee table and pushed himself off the couch, with the thought that by the time he got there, whoever was calling would have left a message anyway. The phone vibrated again, and he realized the joke was on him: it wasn’t a call, but a text. Well, he was up now. Might as well get it. The text was from Eric, which made Jack think that moving at least was worth it. Then he read it. I don’t know if you’re up yet, but if you are, don’t come to the bakery to walk me home. I’ll explain when I get there. Jack sat down again. Had he done something? Was there something wrong? Something Eric didn’t want him to see? He typed, Everything OK? Did something happen? It took a couple of minutes for Eric to respond, and Jack couldn’t help wondering if Eric was trying to find a way to let him down easy. It couldn’t be that, could it? Eric had seemed really pleased when Jack had met him in the corridor this morning. Not really, Eric texted back. I think I just figured something out. I’ll tell you before our nap. That was good, Jack thought. If Eric was planning to come over for a nap, then everything would be fine. Even if Jack thought he was more likely to spend the time watching Eric sleep than sleeping himself. His phone buzzed again. And btw, I work for a weasel. I think. OK, Jack texted back. As long as you’re all right. I’ll be here when you get home. Then he pulled his plate back into his lap (what? He was was hungry) and turned on the documentary and tried not to think about it until Eric got there. When the movie ended, he carried his plate to the kitchen and checked the clock. 2:15. Eric should be home in about 40 minutes. Maybe he could read? What did he do with his time before he spent it waiting for Eric? He washed his lunch dishes and put them away and then did what he had done this morning: opened the door a crack and sat with his book where he could see who passed in the corridor. Eric said he was coming over to nap, but he might want to go to his apartment first. Jack didn’t want to wait a minute more than he had to. It turned out he didn’t have to. He heard the elevator doors slide open, then Eric was pushing his door open wider. “Mr. Zimmermann, you should be more careful,” Eric said. “Anyone could come in here.” Jack stood up and said, “Not just anyone. There’s a doorman.” “Yeah, well, come here, because it’s just me,” Eric said, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist when he got close. “And I’m not about trusting other people right now.” Jack pulled Eric even closer and spoke into his hair. “Mmm. Tell me what happened.” “I’m pretty sure that Matthew was the one who sent those tweets,” Eric said. “Or had someone send them. I need to call your dad to apologize.” “Apologize? What for?” Jack said. “It sounds like Matthew owes you an apology.” “Because knowing me is what brought it onto your dad,” Eric said. “But you didn’t do anything wrong,” Jack said. “You should demand an apology from him. And another raise.” “I can’t prove it,” Eric said. “But the timing of it … and when I hinted at it, he didn’t exactly deny it. But he didn’t admit it either.” “So what did you do?” “Oh, my God, I’m sorry, Jack, but I threatened to quit if rumors about me kept appearing,” Eric said, pulling away and sitting on the couch. “OK,” Jack said. “But why are you sorry?” “Because you guaranteed my deposit, and I need this job to make my rent,” Eric said. “Don’t worry about that,” Jack said. “Seriously, not at all. Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Jack extended his hand to Eric and pulled him to his feet. “One thing I don’t understand, though,” Jack said. “Why my dad? Why not me?” “Well, I don’t think Matthew was paying attention to Twitter before the weekend,” Eric said. “I’m pretty sure he got the idea from the selfie he took with Derek that I posted. And I think he was afraid of what would happen if he went after you.” “And my dad was the better choice? So he’s a weasel and an idiot?” Jack sniggered. “Don’t worry. This will all work out.”

**********************

Jack seemed determined not to be too concerned about Matthew, who now knew Eric lived in the same building as Jack and had shown a predisposition to stir up trouble. Eric thought maybe Jack should take it a little more seriously. Matthew’s only real concern seemed to be whether the bakery was doing better, which was unfair, because it was doing fine before. It was certainly busier than when Eric arrived there, and the business had been growing steadily. If people happened to hear that some of the Falconers were regular customers, well, that would have been fine. Even if that was on Twitter … which it was, after Mashkov had come in with Jack. What was Twitter but word-of-mouth on steroids? The difference was that Matthew hadn't tweeted about the quality or the popularity of Sugar ‘n’ Spice’s baked goods. He'd crossed a line by bringing Eric’s personal life into it, and even worse, Bob’s. And if Eric and Jack kept spending so much time together, who was to say he wouldn't bring Jack into it? Jack seemed to accept that the world would find out about them sooner or later, but Eric couldn't help but fret over what would happen then. The reaction on social media would be huge. Sure, some, maybe even most, people would be supportive. But those who weren't could be positively vitriolic. What would it be like for Eric’s parents, who would go from quietly being the parents of a gay boy to being the parents of a gay poster boy? What would it be like for Jack? Would players on other teams try to bait him with homophobic language? Would the hits get harder and dirtier? What if he got hurt? “Eric!” Eric snapped his head around to see Jack standing by the boards, his face flushed and hair sweaty from his cardio session upstairs. “Are you OK?” Jack asked. “You haven't been practicing like you usually do. You've just skated in circles.” “I was doing footwork,” Eric said. “Right,” Jack said. “If alternating forward and backwards laps is footwork.” Eric shrugged. “Just thinking,” he said. “Tell you what,” Jack said. “Let me get my skates on and we can talk about it. We've got another 15 minutes.” “You don't have to,” Eric protested. “But I want to,” Jack said. “We need to talk to each other, ouais?” Jack retrieved his skates and started circling the rink with Eric. “So what is it that has you so deep in your head you’re not even practicing spins?” Jack said. Eric skated a few strides, looking straight ahead. Finally, he said, “What if this ruins everything?” “What do you mean by ‘this’? Your boss being an asshole?” Jack said. “He always was an asshole. He still doesn’t pay you what you’re worth, and that little surprise visit to get you take a smaller raise than you asked for -- and to do more work at the same time -- that was a dick move.” “And I was so proud of myself,” Eric said, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt. “You had every right to be,” Jack said. “It took courage to ask for a raise, and ask for more staffing, and to go into it alone, with no experience doing anything like that, with the person that held the keys to your life here … I think that took a lot of courage. I’ve certainly never gone into negotiations alone. I’ve always had an agent, lawyers, a whole team, and my parents to back it all up. Him being a jerk doesn’t reflect badly on you -- it just makes what you’ve accomplished all the more impressive.” “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him being a jerk,” Eric said. “I mean, you and me. What if when people find out and, I don’t know, something happens to you and you lose your career?” He watched Jack stride thoughtfully for a few seconds before Jack said quietly, “Then I will have had a very nice, very lucrative career, and I will take some time to figure out what I want to do next. Maybe I would go to college. Who knows? But regardless of what I might have thought when I was a teenager, hockey is not my actual life. I’ve already had far longer in the league than most people.” “Jack, please, just take this seriously,” Eric said. “Falcs management could change and the new people might not want an out player. Other teams could use it to get under your skin. Or worse, you could be hurt.” “I do take it seriously,” Jack countered. “I could be hurt in any game I play in. Would it be worse if the guy who did it thought there was something wrong with me? Maybe, but the end result is the same. It’s too late, anyway.” “Too late for what?” “Too late for you to walk away and think this will go away and no one will ever know it happened,” Jack said. “How many people know about us? A couple dozen players on the team, maybe another half-dozen in PR and management, my parents, your friends and co-workers … once you start counting the people who are in on a secret in the dozens, I don’t think you can really call it a secret anymore. Especially when a lot of them gossip as much as hockey players do.” “Not helping,” Eric said. Jack held Eric’s arm and stopped, bringing Eric around to face him. “If you really want to stop, that’s your choice, of course,” Jack said. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do anything you don’t want to do. And people might not find out that we were together, if you walk away -- and believe me, you’ll have to do the walking, because I don’t want to leave -- but it will definitely get around that I’m not straight. And you know what? That’s OK with me.” “But you never told anyone before.” “No,” Jack said. “I never thought I had a reason to, because I wasn’t seeing anyone. But maybe I wasn’t seeing anyone so I wouldn’t have to say anything. And I know it would have been much riskier when I came into the league. But I never realized how much better it would feel to tell people. Why didn’t you tell your parents until you moved to Massachusetts? I know you felt safer, having a place to go home to, but was maybe learning what it felt like to be out part of it? Because I feel like I’m closer to my teammates now than I have been in all the years I’ve been here. I feel more like myself, if that makes sense.” Jack took a deep breath. “I really want to be with you, to keep finding out things like this with you, even to deal with whatever nastiness happens with you,” he said. “But I know I can’t make you go through that for me, and that’s what it would be, because you’re already out and have friends and could probably date a hundred guys.” “But, Jack, I do,” Eric insisted. “I do want to do all that with you. I just don’t want to be the reason you lose everything that you love.” “I couldn’t have lost everything I love if I still have you,” Jack said.

*******************************

Eric’s eyes widened and a he sucked in a breath. Crisse. Tabarnak de osti. What had he just said? Why had he said that? It’s not like loving Eric was a new thought for Jack; it had first entered his mind way too early in their relationship for even a hockey robot like him to think about saying it. Bringing it out in the open would do nothing but pressure Eric -- just what he wanted to stay away from. Eric, who was five years younger and who deserved a chance to look around him before settling down; Eric, who had to understand the downsides of being with a professional athlete as well as the benefits. Although judging by this conversation, Eric was aware of some of the drawbacks. Eric still hadn’t said anything. Jack dropped Eric’s hand and rubbed both his palms over his face for a moment, finally looking up to see Eric’s eyes still fixed on him. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make things weird or --” “Did you mean it?” Eric broke in. “Did you mean you love me?” “Well. yes, but I know it’s only --” “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you are not apologizing for telling me you love me,” Eric said. “If you must know, I’m pretty sure I love you too, but I didn’t want to jinx anything or scare you off by saying it.” “You don’t have to say it back because I said it,” Jack said. “I’m not,” Eric said. “I’m saying it because I mean it. I might not have much dating experience, but I know I’ve never felt like this before, and I can’t imagine that I’ll feel this way about anyone else.” “Then why just ‘pretty sure’?” Jack chirped with a smile, now that the terror of what he had done had subsided. “Well, I’ve got your dad to think of, don’t I?” Eric said, then spun away from Jack and took off down the ice. “Come and get me,” he called over his shoulder. Jack pushed off after him, legs churning and lungs burning, until he had caught up and caged Eric between his arms against the boards. “You let me catch you, didn’t you?” he asked, “I’ll never tell,” Eric said. “But I will say, it’s much better when you’re a half-inch away as opposed to half a rink, Mr. Zimmermann.” “How about I come even closer?” Jack said, bending to press his lips to Eric’s. As they kissed, Eric’s arms went around Jack’s waist and pulled their bodies together, while Jack’s hands came off the glass, one resting on the side of Eric’s jaw, the other brushing over the short hair at the back of his neck. Jack couldn’t have said how long they stood there on the ice, kissing like it was the only way to get oxygen. The didn’t separate until they heard the beep-beep of the zamboni’s horn as it entered the ice. Jack looked up and grinned, giving a lazy wave towards the room where the zamboni was stored. He nodded to Rich, took Eric’s hand, and skated to the exit. Rich waved back and then started his slow, careful circuit. “Come on, Eric,” Jack said. “Let’s go home.”

[westfivestory]

This week feels like limbo. I’m in between events and although I have work to do, there is no immediate deadline so I feel a little lost. Or maybe I’m still half asleep. I’m not even sure anymore. I feel like I’m not accomplishing anything at work at the moment regardless. Oh well, some rest may take care of that.

Tuesday, Mikayla’s 17th birthday. I don’t really know where the time went, but yeah, I have a 17 year old. Its strange to say it, but apparently it’s true. To set this moment in stone, we went and did what any mother and daughter at this stage would do, we got tattoos. They are not matching, and although they are located on our forearms, we each chose different arms. Regardless, they still contain meaning for each of us and they look great. Thank you Jay Primeau for another amazing, memory. We will definitely all remember this day for a very long time.

Grandma and 2 of Mikayla’s friends joined us in this adventure and while none of them sat in the chair and marked the occasion, a couple of them are considering making their own memories the same way. I wonder if Mikayla will get anymore, I guess time will tell.

5 am I was woken up to Oreo, I’m pretty sure it was her anyway, walking around the house making a strange meowing sound, similar to her repeatedly yelling hello. I finally got up, walked in the kitchen to see Kaze staring at something on the floor. Turn on the light, it’s a frog, and it’s alive. My guess, Oreo brought it in, cause she plays with things but never pulls the trigger and actually kills them. Anyway, the frog hopped under the water cooler and I woke up Danek to help me catch it to get it out. Luckily it was much easier than the mouse. Those cats are getting closer and closer to a boarded up cat door.

Thursday, I took another day off, it was washing machine repair day. It finally happened, I was beginning to consider hand washing, but no need anymore. The total, a staggering $454, yeah not light by any means, but live and learn, next time, screw it I’m going shopping.

So besides doing tons and tons of laundry and still not even seeing an end to it, it was a great day to hangout with Mikayla and Gunnar. We binge watched TV shows, painted, bought some groceries etc.

On the way home from grocery shopping, I was informed by Gunnar that me and the daycare provider and his wife are all 14. Apparently 14 is old when you are 5. I’m not even going to bother arguing with him on that one.

After school let out, we went back to the elementary school for the annual fundraising event. It was good, saw some people I don’t usually see and Gunnar was able to hang out with some friends and actually attempt being social. It’s a stretch, hopefully kindergarten will change that a bit. Danek ditched us pretty much immediately to hangout with his friends. Once we got back home, we received a phone call, Danek was invited to be in a soccer tournament in Beausejour on Saturday.

2:30 in the morning, once again woken up by the cats, getting pretty tired of this. No new pets accompanied any of them, just the awful and startling sound of a cat attempting to puke. Why, I don’t understand, why, do they never attempt to get out of the house or far away from where you can hear them. Apparently they leave if they feel they are dying, why can’t they leave to vomit?

Mikayla and Parish went out for the weekend, sleepovers and such, so me and the boys had some time to ourselves. It’s been pretty nice and quieter than usual, aside from shopping at Home Depot. Next time I try that I might stop at a daycare first to borrow a multi-child leash.

Saturday was a cool wet day. Danek joined the Landmark Crush soccer team to assist them in the tournament. He had a great time, minus being pretty cold. We stuck around for the first 2 games before I couldn’t get Gunnar to watch anymore. Danek came home around supper time with silver. Congratulations to the team. He had a great time and would like to join them next year.

Saturday night was a slumber party just me and the boys again. It was fun. We brought out a mattress and they made beds and we watched a couple of movies, they both fell asleep shortly into Lego Batman.

It was nice spending some time just with the boys, it doesn’t happen often. They even helped me with some yard work this afternoon.

Until next time….

June 25, 2017 This week feels like limbo. I'm in between events and although I have work to do, there is no immediate deadline so I feel a little lost.