#feel free to print + do whatever with. id love to see pictures of it in the wild

[lycanthrop-ee-art]

brief multi-media zine about lycanthropy and depersonalization <33

printable version under the cut !

[artisiumstudios]

PART TWO

Okay I realized today reading through my last post that I made a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes but now that I have slept for 9 hours I should be good to go! Okay so first of all I do want to state that the mystery shack will be a thing here even if it wasn’t exactly Fords idea. And a lot of things that happened in the oh timeline do still happen in this au but with a twist, for example Wendy and soos still end up working at the mystery shack MUSEUM but apart from being workers soos is also fords apprentice and Wendy is kinda like a student to ford (aka she likes to learn about all the crazy shit he did).

The other thing is ford did tell people he studied the paranormal and anomalies but didn’t say anything about the portal. Now as for the journals because dipper does still find the journals, after ford disassembles the portal he hides his journals once again but not before ripping out and hiding the blue ones prints and most of the pages that either had anything to do with him or Stan out and the most of the ones he had with bill. He hides the pages separately throughout his house and the forest because he can’t bring himself to destroy them.

Oh and other stuff ford found in the car was the box that had Stan’s fake ids, another pair of bras knuckles, a map with states he was no longer allowed in, another small notebook with names and money he owed them, a first aid kit, weed (you cannot tell me Stanley pines was not a stoner during the hippie area like come on), and a picture of ma and Shermie with the date June 15 with the words “ HAPPY 27th BIRTHDAY STAN WE MISS YOU!” Alright now let me get back to the time line.

So 2 years go by and the mystery shack museum is now a thing, a small one but it’s a thing. It’s less of a tourist trap and more of a museum where he captures small harmless (or well mostly harmless) creatures of gravity falls and provides activities to for people to hang out or interact with them. It starts off well and eventually he is able to produce merchandise. Occasionally he does have to provide “handmade” creatures (ideas taken from Stan’s notebook. The mystery shack continues to grows and by the late 90’s he’s able to pay off his mortgage and pay the school his grant back, and he slowly expands the shack to fit more anomalies. But still he can’t stop the nagging feeling that giving the portal up was a mistake, that stan is still alive.

THE TWINS ARE BORN! Ford being Ford he still didn’t contact his family much. He was trying to do so more especially after his dad’s death, his ma had lost so much already. When he got the call he immediately left to the hospital and once he got there much like og Stan he couldn’t let them go. He knew he had to protect them, that he couldn’t have them make the same mistakes that cost him his brother, the same mistakes that tore them apart forever.

Around the next five years this is where ford find soos after his birthday and where they begin to connect. Soos doesn’t really open up but ford gets that whatever upset the child involves his birthday. So he offers him a free entrance to the museum and soos accepts, this is kinda where I’m figuring out the details but soos love for building things reminds ford of his old lab partner that he decides to take him in as an apprentice. Now the twins are around 8-9 when ford gets called up to see if he can take the kids for the summer! (No this is not where the major story takes place) He says dipper and Mabel have been wanting to visit and they also were hoping to have them learn a thing or two. Ford agrees and almost every summer after that ford has been in charge of the twins for every summer.

During these summers ford starts to wonder if maybe he gave up on his twin too soon. He sees how the kids act with each other and he feels the guilt rip him from the inside out. He begins his research once again, even if he still feels like the odds are against him. Now the twins are 13 (this is where it takes place) (oh btw Wendy gets hired when the twins are 11 and she’s taken a liking to learning about the forest creatures, even if she doesn’t want to admit that she’s finding learning fun, and occasionally she’ll join ford on field to study these creatures) Summer this year feels a little more sad, their parents have been arguing a lot more this year and Dipper fears for the worst. He doesn’t want a divorce, and he especially doesn’t want to get separated from his twin sister.

But this is also an exciting summer since Grunkle Ford said this would be the year they can start going into the forest by themselves! Now you can guess how dipper found the journal. Now I’m not going to spoil much now but that’s it for fords part!

Now for Stanley!

After being pushed into the portal he blacked out for a second. He woke up to find himself surrounded by creatures! He panicked clutching (his pearls) the journal, and sneaking it into his jacket. This is his first encounter with bill. Bill at first seems friendly, kind, offering Stan some food and water. Stan didn’t trust it. His gut told him to run and after being on the streets for 10 years he knew not to trust food and water handed to you by someone you just met. Bill shows ford around explaining his dimensions and that those little black holes are worm holes that lead to different dimensions. He tells him his brother was working on a portal that would created would do something similar, that he made a deal with ford. He would help him create a portal so that his name would go down in history and give him the opportunity to explore other universes and in exchange he could go into fords dimension and explore the stars there. But ford backed out last minute and betrayed bill. Stan obviously didn’t trust that especially after seeing the state ford was in.

However he knew guys like bill. Unless you want to die just let him keep going and hear him out. Bill tried to make a deal with him, charming him saying that maybe he would listen to Stanley, that if Stanley let him control his body for a bit he could convince ford to open the portal once again and afterwards bill would give Stan what he always wanted: a million dollars, the opportunity to get his family back. But there were so many flaws with that deal. Bill never said how long he would take over his body, he kept using vague language when he said get his family back. For all he knew his family could be given to him in coffins. And he during that little montage bill showed him of ford he saw fords eyes, well more like his pupils. Bill was what ford was looking for when he checked his eyes. Yeah no he’s not trusting him .

But how could he escape if he was practically surrounded. He acted as if he was thinking looking subtly around. A worm hole! But he needed to get closer, cause a distraction, but how???

ANYWAYS PART THREE LATER CAUSE I GOT CLASS OKAY BYEEE

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha. 

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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

  @mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​

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Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos. 

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.  

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok? 

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished. 

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways. 

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing? 

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out. 

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”. 

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

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God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

[truglori]

Sneaky Link 🔗

Synopsis: Black Reader and Eric find each other online!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Smutt, Raw sex

Flopping on the bed Y/N found herself bored for the fourth Friday night in a row. This was supposed to be the season of hook ups and living her best carefree lifestyle that she had planned out but yet is was the exact opposite. Being on summer break from college Y/N had to come back home with the schools being closed. It was something she dreaded.

Home for her wasn’t the best place to be. Between her judgmental and nagging parents and older brother, Chris, Y/N was ecstatic when she discovered that she would be going to a school that was over three hundred miles away. Being four hours away gave her enough freedom knowing that she didn’t have any one breathing down her neck or snitching to her parents about whatever she did. With it only being her sophomore year Y/N loved the college lifestyle.

Getting up she went to her window to open it and put in her square fan. Her air conditioner that she always kept in her room was now being used by her brother so she had to settle for this. Turning the knob she felt the warm cool breeze coming through and taking up the room. Walking back to her bed she logged into her laptop going onto the web browser. Clicking the history she found the website she was searching for and tapped it.

Quick Link popped up on her screen. It was a site that allowed people to meet and chat with other people. Even though Y/N has been going on it for weeks now back and forth, she never met one person that she has chatted with yet. She was okay with talking to them online and even over the phone but the thought of seeing them in person scared her. With all of the Lifetime movies and ID channel she would watch, doing something as small as meeting up with them could be dangerous.

Y/N scrolled through her recent messages. She had over ninety-nine notifications. She knew that she wasn’t going to reply to them all, only the once she found cute. It was like a broken record being played. They all inbox her with the same messages, hey sexy! Y/N rolled eyes at the un-originality. To her it seem like the guys didn’t even try to put in any effort.

Tapping on the keyboard she began to text back the handful that she found attractive when she got two notifications. Hurrying up her sentence she exited out of the chat and clicking on her new direct messages.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Y/N, what in the hell is yo ass doing on this shit...10:35pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- And I know you still online. I can see the green bubble by ya picture...10:36pm

Y/N squinted at the name. Who the hell was this texting her like they knew her? The question alone made her stomach flutter at the idea of getting caught on a dating site by someone she knew or knew her. Clearly this person recognized her enough to boldly message her. Clicking on their username she went to their page. Her heart stopped and thighs clenched at the same time.

It was Erik fucking Stevens aka her brother’s childhood best friend. Chris and Erik were the same age and only three years older than Y/N. Growing up Y/N stayed crushing on Erik. It was his braids that he rocked back in the day that had her drooling over him but also how nice he was to her. Y/N remembered the time when she was a freshman in high school and Chris and Erik were both Juniors she would always get a ride with them every morning in his 2005 Honda Accord. He would steal glances at her through his rear view mirror that only she would catch but to afraid to ask him about it.

There would be times that she would find underwear from a girl tucked under the backseat. Y/N heard about the rumored that went around the school that Erik was a player. An experienced one at that. He was grown before his time and with the way the lucky girls who had a chance to sleep with him describe it, he gave dick like he was a grown man as well.

Hearing that did nothing but spark the flame that she felt about him. She wanted to experience it herself. But being the quiet and timid person she was then, she never did. It wasn’t until Y/N went to college where she lost her virginity her freshman and started having sex on the regular with her ex who was also her first. From the first few times they did it, she could never cum from penetration. Y/N thought it was normal and that every girl dealt with it until she shared a few stories with her friends and they would tell her about the way their guys would make them squirt.

Squirting was something Y/N always wanted to do but could never achieve with her guy. She loved feeling him inside of her stretching her open but he was a quick pumper. He came too fast for her and couldn’t last long enough to get her to nut. So after every session she would take her bullet and tortured her clit until she felt her cream escaping her hole. Not having sex since the last time she was at school had Y/N body extremely horny and hot and ready like a little ceasars pizza.

Clicking through his pictures had her clenching her thighs. After he graduated high school, the graduation was the last place she seen Erik. She wasn’t even sure if Chris and him were still close friends. But what she could say is that he grew up very nice. He now had dreads that hung over his eyes with a clean shape up to top it off. His teeth pearly and white accompanied by gold canines he was wearing in every other picture and last but not least his body was everything. Standing at 6’3 and looking like a solid 215 from her view Erik was fine as fuck.

Giggling and embarrassed with herself she replied back.

BlackBeauty- Erik omg...this is so embarrassing. How did you find me?...10:40pm

Biting the nail on her thumb she waited for him to answer her. To her surprise he wrote back fairly faster than what she expected.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Noticed yo little ass on the explore page. I know you not on here meeting with these wack ass niggas...10:42pm

She laughed re-reading his message. To her it sound like it was possessive but she didn’t want to over think it.

BlackBeauty- Never!! I am not stupid. I haven’t met one person yet...10:44pm

Hitting the send button she rolled her eyes noticing herself getting desperate from his attention.

HandsomeAssNigga👅-Okay bet! I don’t wanna have to fuck you up youngin 😈...10:47pm

Biting her lip, she stared down the emoji. She wondered what that meant. She wondered in what way did he meant when he said he would fuck her up. At this point Y/N was dripping between her thick thighs.

BlackBeauty- What about you? I know you out here fucking these bitches you meet on here. Don’t lie lol...10:49pm

Y/N didn’t want to seem nosy, she was just trying to make conversation.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Damn you cuss now? And second of all don’t be worried about what I do with my dick. I’m grown and that’s different...10:51pm

Bringing a hand down to her covered pussy Y/N caressed it. The warmth coming through her panties and cotton shorts. She didn’t know what it was but the way he was responding had her feeling a type of way. She wasn’t the shy young girl anymore he used to know and she wanted to make that clear.

BlackBeauty- I’m grown too Erik 💦...10:53pm

Her heart beat sped up when she sent the text not knowing how he was going to respond.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- To who? I know ya young ass ain’t out here fuckin yet. You was too shy for that last time I saw you. Even if you was, I know you ain’t getting know real dick...10:55pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- What’s that emoji supposed to represent? Ya pussy or sum shit? Let me find out Y/N 👿...10:56pm

There goes that little devil that had her questioning herself again.

BlackBeauty- I get dick on the regular. Good dick! And yes Erik that emoji reps my pussy. Same young pussy that’ll be too wet for you to handle! I’ll have you drownin in my shit...10:59pm

Y/N could always talk a good game online. It was where she could be get as nasty as she wanted without actually putting in work. The guys who would hit her up loved her foreplay that she had spit over the internet and she was fortunate enough where they never pressed her to meet in person.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Bring that pussy here and I’ma show you if I’ll drown in it. Stop fucking playing with me Y/N if you not gonna pull up. I don’t do this back and forth teasing shit. You tryna do a Sneaky Link or what?...11:02pm

Checking the hall Y/N seen that the lights were off. Her parents were most likely sleeping and Chris always worked Friday nights. This was the perfect time and opportunity to leave. She would have to sneak the keys from the key holder and use her dad’s car to get to his place. Y/N didn’t do this on the regular but because it was Erik she was curious. She wanted to see for herself if all of the rumors were true. Y/N was going to fuck him tonight.

BlackBeauty- Send me the addy..I’m on my way...11:04pm

________

After showering and preparing for her dick appointment Y/N successfully snuck out of the house. She put his address in her GPS. It was a twenty minute drive to get to his apartment. Putting the car in park and turning it off, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach grow while walking into the building. Taking her phone out she went to his message and looking up the apartment number he gave her. Apartment 3B.

Knocking on the door. She held her hands together tightly. She was beyond nervous and rethinking her decision as her heart kept thumping. She couldn’t believe that she was really going to go through this. After so many years of fantasizing about him in her room she was finally going to see the real thing. Y/N only wondered if it was as good as she hoped.

The door swung open showing Erik sipping on a glass of dark liquor. In nothing but a tight wife beater that clung to his chest and his sweats that hung low Y/N could see the print poking through so visibly. It looked like he was free balling it.

“Damn ma. You wasn’t lying about getting grown. You look good as shit.” Erik sipped from his glass. He stepped aside inviting her in.

Y/N smiled softly going inside. She only took a few steps in and stood to the side waiting for him. She heard the door lock behind her as it caused her to gulp hard on her spit.

Erik eyed her with his low eyes. He chuckled seeing that she was clearly nervous.

“So that’s ya thing?” His voice was low and deeper than what she remembered.

“What’s my thing?” Her soft voice speaking up.

“Talking shit online but quiet it person.” He stated putting her on the spot.

Y/N smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned facing his livingroom.

“Nah ain’t no whatever. What’s good ma? Where that big girl energy go?” He walked up behind her pressing his body into hers. The hand that wasn’t holding his cup wrapped around her waist gripping the small pudge on her stomach.

Y/N shivered when she felt his dick on her ass. Her assumption was right. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his sweats. She could feel the coldness of his chains on her shoulder when he leaned on her due to her only wearing a tank top. She grabbed his hand, not pushing him away but holding on to him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She gazed at him over her shoulder.

He smirked at her smart remark. “You need anything before we start? A drink, blunt, something to help you calm ya scary ass down.” He teased.

She pushed his hand from around her waist and folded her arms. “I’m not scary Erik. If I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why you barely saying shit?” He licked his lips.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s just been a while since I saw you. You look...different.” Playing with her diamond earning, she occupied her fingers.

“I may look different but I’m still the same Erik that used to jack ya brother up every time he fucked with you when no one was looking. Ain’t shit changed about me ma so you can relax. I’m tryna take care of you tonight.” He spoke stepping closer.

They were now face to face. Y/N’s frame staring up into his 6’3 one. When she would inhale she could smell his expensive cologne mix with the Hennessy he’s been sipping on since she got here.

“Okay.” She answered with a bite of her bottom lip.

Erik groaned at the action. Both of his hands behind his back now, he bent down to her level to meet her halfway. “C’mere.” He demanded a kiss with messy dreads hanging over his eyes.

Meeting him where he was, Y/N listened giving him one. The taste of the dark liquor transferring over to her taste buds from his tongue invading her mouth. The warmth of it made her melt under him and causing her head to lean back. She was already growing weak just from the kiss.

Erik reached behind her slapping her ass and gripping it with his free hand. “Fuck you doing all that for and I ain’t even do shit yet.” He spoke against her lips peaking through his eyelids.

“Hurry up then daddyy.” Y/N whined.

“That’s my name for the night? I like that shit.” He walked them backwards until they reached his room which wasn’t far away from the front.

Placing his glass down on his dresser he lifted her up by her thighs, picking her up. Y/N squealed from the unexpected action. She held onto his neck hoping he wouldn’t drop her. Erik chuckled playing with her ass cheeks before laying her down on the bed gently.

“You sucked dick before...miss grown?” Bringing his hand down, he massaged his print through his sweats.

Leaning up on the palm of her hands, Y/N nodded answering yes. She did it plenty of times with her ex, who she could make cum quickly off of head alone but the way Erik was grabbing his tool made her think differently.

“So what’s up then? Come show me what that mouth do?”

Kicking off her sandals Y/N got off the bed. His eyes stayed glued to her. Getting on her knees in front of him she tugged the sides of the grey sweats and pulled them down to his mid thigh. His dick sprung out almost hitting her in the face had she been centimeters closer.

Long and thick was what it was. A beautiful smooth brown texture covered his heavy package. Y/N felt her mouth watered thinking about how her cream and juices would look being all over it. This man was truly blessed and so far proving the rumors to be true.

Erik twisted his hips side to side wagging it in front of her. He lifted the wife beater up and tucked it under his chin so that he can get a good view.

Grabbing the base of his length Y/N eyed it. She was trying to figure out ways to be able to swallow this monster without choking. Sticking her tongue out she tapped his tip against it. A string from her saliva on her tongue being attached to his head every time they separated. With her prior experience and watching porn she grew to have her own technique.

Y/N allowed the spit to build up in her mouth when she sucked on his tip. No nigga likes dry head and she wasn’t going to start giving it today. She wanted it to be extra sloppy for Erik. Tightening her jaws she went up and down on his dick. Taking only about four inches of him and using her spit to stroke the rest of him. With just the little bit of his length she was able to take she could already feel him reaching her back.

“Fuck that throat feel good. Shitt!” Erik groaned gripping her tight kinky curls and putting them into a ponytail. He tilted his head watching her go stupid on his dick. He sucked in his lower lip when she began to swivel her head around.

Long drips of spit went falling down on her black tank top. Erik’s eyebrows scrunched up the moment he felt her take his balls in her mouth and suck on them lightly while stroking his tip. His stomach started to tighten and his toes dug into his carpet. This girl was trying to take his soul the way she sucking him up.

“Man whatchu doing Y/N?” Erik asked amazed, closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had head this good.

“I’m showing you that I’m grown daddy.” She answered coming up.

Now both of her hands were focused on playing with his balls while she sucked his tip and some of the few inches she was able to reach. Her eyes stared into his not stopping at all. She had him right where she wanted him. She could tell from the way his breathing sped up that he was getting weak and ready to bust a nut. Y/N tightened her suction to make it happen when she felt him pull her off by her hair.

Erik took one hand gripping her spit covered chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Fuck is you doing sucking my dick like that ma? You tryna make me hold you hostage for the whole night?” He asked seriously.

Y/N giggled. “I just wanna make you cum Daddy.” She reached for his tip and gripped it making him jerk forward.

Erik smacked his lips annoyed that she had him feeling like sensitive. “Chill with that. Let me fuck you first before you suck this nut out.”

Helping her up and placing her back on the bed Erik slide off her biker shorts tossing them somewhere. Underneath them she had on some cotton hipster panties with little rainbows spreaded everywhere. Erik laughed when he seen it.

“Why you wearing shit like this ma?” He teased stepping out of his pants and getting on the bed.

“Because it’s cute. Why you worried about what I’m wearing instead of taking them off?” Y/N mocked his question.

Erik smirked bringing his hand up to the piece of cloth and ripping them straight down the middle and threw them on the ground. A gasp left Y/N lips as she was shocked from him doing that. Slapping his forearm, her lips went into a pout becoming upset.

“Erik, I just brought those two weeks ago.” She smacked the hand that was rubbing her thigh.

“You said to take them off. My bad. That’s the way I usually do it.” He lifted her legs by the back of her thighs while he consoled her as a distraction.

Y/N was frustrated at the fact that he ripped her new panties but also that she wasn’t going to have any to wear back home after this link.

“I don’t care how you do it, you shouldn’t have- ohh shiitt!” Her rant was cut off with the sound of moans leaving her mouth.

Holding her legs by the back of her knees Y/N glanced down to see Erik flicking her clit. The tip of his tongue felt wet and firm, in a good way. She really started to feel it when he took one hand and spread her phat pussy lips. Now her clit was out in the open and more accessible. Erik’s eyes met hers through his dreads when his lips wrapped around her bud and began to suck.

“Mm fuck...daddyy!” The sensation had Y/N’s hips thrusting to meet his vacuum like suction. So powerful and wet.

“I want you to cum on this fuckin tongue!” His words were muffled by the lips of her pussy surrounding his but it was enough to reach her ears. Taking a hand he smacked her outer thigh making his demand clear.

Her warm and slick juices ran out of her opening. It was something about the way he commanded her to nut that made her wetter and willing. Y/N liked to be dominated. Lifting up the tank top and pulling it up to her chest she tweaked and flipped her nipples adding to the stimulation. For her the feeling of having her nipples played with while getting her pussy ate made her orgasm a hundred times better.

“Eat this fucking pussy b-babyy-“ She whimpered feeling a tear slide down the corner of her eye.

Even though he noticed it, Erik didn’t stop. The juices that he caught in his mouth made it hard. He loved a good tasting ass pussy. Y/N definitely had one. Moving his assault from her clit he put his tongue in her tight opening. He began to fuck her with it. Erik put his hands under her ass cheeks and got a good cuff before bringing her back and forth on his stiff tongue. With the way her legs were still in the air he could see Y/N toes curl the second he started the action. She began leaking so quickly. Erik chuckled inwardly when he felt her walls squeezing on him.

“Mhm.” He moaned teasing her.

Y/N was cumming from the second time just off of his mouth alone. She reached down to rub her clit while he stuck his tongue deep inside her. She ain’t never got head this good before back at college. Her thighs began to shake as she felt another mini orgasm hit. Her pussy growing sensitive and overstimulated.

Grabbing his dreads she lifted his head up. “Daddy you was eating my pussy so good. Fuckk!” She moaned with a quiver in her voice.

“Now I’m bout to beat this pussy up real good too. Turn around. I want that ass from the back.” Erik barked getting on his knees.

Swiftly taking off her tank top, Y/N turned around like he said and got on all fours. She felt a firm smack to her right ass cheek. Moaning she rocked back and forth and twerked each cheek individually. Y/N looked over her shoulder behind her seeing Erik watching her move it so effortlessly. His hands went up to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Now she could feel her mound rubbing against his bare hard rock hard stick.

“Doing all this ass shaking, you better not try to run from the dick. I don’t want none of that.” He gripped a cheek spreading it watching her pussy lips follow.

“I’m not gon run daddy..I promise.” She reassured him softly.

Erik gripped the base of his length. Smacking it against her her clit he played with it for a while to warm her up. When he heard her moaning and seen her backing up against him he knew she was ready. Erik sent a drip of spit on the tip of his dick and rubbed it over it with a free hand. He teasingly dipped in and out of her tight hole. Y/N pussy was tight as fuck and he knew he had to work his way in. Getting deeper and deeper with each inch her warm wet walls clung on to him.

“Ooh fuck!” Y/N eyes closed not expecting him to feel like this. Erik was stretching her pussy out. Her arms sprawled out in front of her gripping his sheets.

“Tight ass pussy you got. What happened to getting dick on the regular? Hmm?” Holding her down by the small of her back Erik made her arch deeper as he stroked her slick walls.

Y/N’s mouth couldn’t close or make a sound. From the position he had her in she couldn’t move or run if she wanted to. Pinned down and made to take it. Erik was dicking her down. His heavy fat dick busting her pussy open and touching her stomach. Fuck that. He was putting it in her chest. Y/N reached behind her to hold on to his wrist while he pounded her pussy with precision. Her face smashed into the bed. His dick was too good for her.

“Ooh baby... Daddy don’t fuck me like this!” She shouted not knowing what she was saying. Y/N didn’t want him to stop but she couldn’t handle the pressure he was putting on her bladder.

Erik didn’t have just a big dick that could stretch a pussy out. He knew how to fuck with it. When he stroked he didn’t use his whole body he worked his hips and that’s what drove bitches crazy about him. Erik would fuck like he was trying to make a baby.

“I thought you came here to get fucked?” He asked lifting off her. He bended one knee and balanced his weight on his foot pressing it into the bed. His hand wrapped around her throat as he caught a rhythm making her throw it back on him.

The sound of skin clapping filled the room. Y/N’s arch was now the deepest it’s ever been with Erik choking her from behind and making her head tilt up towards the ceiling. Cramping in her stomach let her know that she was about to break. She was finally about to cum from penetration alone. His curved tip would press on a spot she didn’t know she had there causing her legs to convulse. Her whimpers and moans only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Which was tearing her pussy up.

“Shiitt!!” She cursed grabbing onto her titty to have something to hold on.

Erik bit his lip seeing her ass tremble from her orgasm and feeling her squeezing his dick with a vice grip. He slapped her left cheek before pulling out to flip her over on her back. Looking down at his meat it was covered in her creamy juices. His dick jumped at the sight.

“Good ass pussy.” He mumbled in a trance.

Using the weight of his hips he thrusted finding his way back inside of her. The warm wet tunnel closing in on him. Erik lifted up the wife beater that was still on in the mist, and brought it up under his chin tucking it to move it out of his way. His hands found the back of her thighs and pinned them against her chest. He began stroking and getting deeper from the angle.

Being trapped from his hold that he had on her, the only thing Y/N could do was bring her hands to his hips trying to interrupt his movements. Y/N didn’t like this feeling. He was going too deep. Deeper than what she was used to. Shaking her head from side to side she pushed at his hips that only kept going due to her weak and trembling arms not being able to produce enough strength.

“Move ya fuckin hands.” He demanded while keeping his steady stroke. Erik cussed under his breath hearing the smacking sounds coming from her hole that could be mistaken for a pot of mac and cheese being stirred. That’s how good Y/N pussy was.

Her tight walls gripped his dick. Erik looked between their bodies watch the beautiful art being made. Her pussy following him whenever he pulled out to the tip just to be sucked back in. Pussy as good and wet as hers always got him to bust hard. He was close. Leaning down to her neck he kissed and sucked her skin while having her pinned down taking his length. Erik felt her walls slick up and knew she was about to nut again.

“Let that shit go mama.” He whispered in her neck.

Y/N’s nails scratched against his back. Her eyes wailed up with tears feeling the pressure in her stomach building up. She lost count of how many times he had made her cum tonight but she knew she was grateful and only prayed that this wasn’t the last time she got dick this bomb.

“Unhh.” She couldn’t produce any words. Her toes curled as she gazed at the ceiling feeling her body shake.

“There you go.” He pecked her neck.

Erik talked her through her nut while he continued to chase his. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick throb and grow inside of her. Pulling out he climbed on top of her holding his body up with one hand pressed into the bed as he stroked his dick with the other. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked his tip. She could feel his seed spilling on her tongue and traveling down her throat. She wasn’t usually a swallower but the way he had just fucked her he deserved to have his dick milked.

“Ahh shit!” Erik cursed caressing her jaw as he watched her suck him dry. She was cleaning both her juices and his nut off of his dick.

A popping sound escaped her mouth when she released him. Y/N’s body couldn’t move as she laid back staring at him with disbelief. Erik caught her face expression.

“What?” He asked standing on the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just the rumors that I heard about you were all true. You do give some good dick.” Turning to lay on her side Y/N smiled.

Erik laughed. “Yeah well I could say the same about you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Little birdy that goes to your college told me about how good ya pussy was. Had to find out for myself.” He smirked at her.

“Erik what are you talking about?” Y/N sat up.

“I’m talking about your ex that you fuck from time to time is my second cousin. Nigga couldn’t stop running his mouth about you. Small world ain’t it?”

He paused watching the confusion clouding over her face. “Besides why else you think I had hit you up tonight? It damn sure wasn’t to reminisce over the past.”

Taking off the wife beater, Erik leaned down to kiss her lips before walking away.

______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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[virtuouscandlelight]

{ OOC } rambles a lot on inner child shit and why I’m such an anxious depressed piece of shit about everything but how that also created all my talents simultaneously

trigger warnings.

so

mostly all of my talents stemmed from intense trauma and loneliness in my childhood go figure LOL. mainly the voice acting, singing, illustrating, and writing. people tend to say shit I have a good combo of talents but you gotta remember these came with the heaviest cost and that price was such a severe loneliness from bullying and abuse that I had to literally write up my own world and create my own friends just to stay sane since fucking elementary and that’s the only reason why I can say I’m very decent at what I do now

because I had all the free time to perfect shit. I didn’t have friends, kids were RUTHLESS and I grew up in a horrid neighborhood with parents who didn’t really care that much as an only child. I got robbed of my comfort items on the daily at school. I’ve gotten transferred before because I was being bullied that badly. I got thrown into suicidal depression because of all this shit at like 7 years old and I’ve been dealing with that dark illness for 15 years. the kids on the block would physically attack me. parents didn’t really care much. never really saw my other family much. became socially scared and awkward and over apologized for everything because I got told a lot it’s my fault for what happened { still never broke the habit } . never got to fully enjoy family trips. would feel insanely jealous of healthy relationships and I used to actually hate the idea of Disneyland because I thought that was for kids with healthy families enjoying the magic lol

so I’d write stories. a lot. I’d draw pictures on printer paper with written stories about my cats and staple them together, making a book. I’d draw and write in class constantly, creating characters and hyper focusing on them because I couldnt find it in me to focus on myself. id study how to create good characters and give them voices and passions and found comfort in constructing a happier, fantasy world in my mind because reality was fucking horrid and only got worse the older I got. fake friends turned to abusive relationships, death threats, parents got more abusive. created more characters, got into role - playing on Facebook, got bullied there too because I was honest to god a cringe child with MS Paint bases in a Pokémon fandom LOL I NEEDED THAT PUSH I got bullied so much that I actually studied drawing and writing more and ended up becoming a straight A top student or whatever in all my literary classes. teachers would use my poems as examples for the class like actually print it out and hand it to everyone for reference and even though that was neat I really didn’t give a shit because it didn’t stop the bullying.

that’s how I felt with my talents. they’re cool but that doesn’t mean people will like me any better. I’ve missed out on SO MANY opportunities to go farther with my talents but I was bullied so badly that it butchered my self confidence and gave me insane stage fright at a young age. I passed up on being Annie for the school play, I passed up solos in choir, I passed up singing the star spangled banner all because I was terrified of how people would laugh at me. I was deathly afraid of judgement because of it wasn’t from the kids, it was from my parents constantly at home. And, without the confidence and love to rely on myself throughout worsening depression, I had no one but my overactive imagination.

shit if I can’t give life to myself then I’d pour life into my own characters.

and that’s how voice acting and writing came hand in hand I’d pour my heart and soul and loneliness into my creations and I’d give them life by giving them a voice and emotions. and then seeing how Disney characters, show characters, cartoon characters, etc etc do the same where they’re given life through voice and drama, all I ever wanted at that point was to do exactly that for a living and make others feel something.

I want to make people feel what my character is feeling. I want people to feel as though they can reach right through the screen and grab them. I want people to smell the scents, to hear the scenes, to hear the raw emotion, to experience the pain and fear, the euphoria, the pleasure, I want people to feel that exact whimsical, child - make believe feeling I felt all those fucking years of being shamed that saved my life — in my writing and creations. My own characters, my stories, my art, Candlelight, are my own products of Neverland — fantasy, magic. Happiness. It’s why Peter Pan was always my favorite Disney movie too. It made my inner child happy — the child that never got to experience magic. But that movie just felt like magic to me.

boy lemme tell you when I write with someone I love LOVE to use all of that to my advantage. and I go overboard with description I know lol I love writing that much. like shit don’t get me started if I’m hooked on a thread { usually I’ll write LONG replies if I’m invested like crack } and that’s when I start laying in bed acting like a film director HERE’S THE SCENERY GOOD PAINT THAT BITCH LIKE THE MONA LISA BRILLIANT OKAY HERE’S THE THEME THERE’S THE TWO CHARACTERS PROFESSING UNDYING LOVE THAT’LL LEAD INTO EITHER MIND CRUSHING DESPAIR OR MENDING BODIES PLEASURE PERFECT OKAY PAINT THE EXPRESSIONS ADD MORE FLARE AND DRAMA SPLENDID AAAAAND ACTION !

it’s also why I cry at nearly every Disney movie actually, even when it’s not sad ! shit I cry at Peter Pan’s OST and when the children are flying. that childish magic feel just makes me so emotional. I so badly want to give my inner child that childhood magic she deserved. If I could fucking hug my kid self for all the shit they put her through, I’d adopt myself and protect her from the world. It’s hard to enjoy childish things when you’re an adult now — judgement will be ten times harder and I struggle still with learning not to care what others think. Characters in costume get me extremely happy in the most childish way and as badly as I want to interact with them in character back because of my passion for theatrics, I shut down and freeze up on contact out of humiliation. I’ve gotten the nastiest and embarrassed looks before from people when I get too excited and ramble or make excited noises. The Renaissance Faire is my only exception because everyone is in costume and in character but I still freeze up lol as excited as I am to visit Disneyland, I’m also petrified to look like a fool in front of my parents with so many comfort characters. God, what would the actors think seeing a fucking 22 year old cry from inner child healing ? Yikes, right ? I went to this Tim Burton themed bar recently and there was an actor dressed as Jack Skellington — he was interacting with me and I wanted so badly to fool around with him back and ask for a hug but instead I felt myself seize and smiled stupid in silence lol

basically tl;dr I’m only good at my talents because fiction brought me far more comfort than nonfiction ever could and i desperately want to give my inner child would she wants to heal but im way too self conscious in the face of public to give in

[b4kuch1n]

The Future Is In Space! (and so is the rest of you)

Okay, so. Gordon should’ve seen this coming. 

And he did, to be fair: Joshua’s always loved space. Joshua loved the idea of flying cars when he was a tiny little thing, if the fact that all of the toy cars he had were thrown with intense force at one point or another meant something, and he clapped at the night sky once when Gordon got them both stuck at a gas station in the middle of nowhere due to… circumstances… which was super, ultra, uber cute as fuck . Especially because Gordon had just applauded him for singing along to a song on the radio when they parked, and that was very possibly the first time Joshua registered clapping as a possible positive reaction to something he likes, or whatever like that. Gordon Freeman has a PhD in theoretical physics and theoretical physics only.

The point is that Gordon loves Joshua so fucking much. No, the point is that Joshua has always liked space. He chose for himself a set of space-themed PJs when Gordon took him to the mall, and he likes food with weird colors because that’s “alien food”, and he has given away all of the toy cars he had to make space for toy space ships of many sizes, and Gordon has had to have a conversation with him once about upending a dusty fish bowl onto his own head so he could look like an astronaut. He doesn’t do that anymore, because Joshua is genuinely a really smart kid who just needs the required pieces of information to put things together by himself. 

Gordon loves him so much. 

Gordon also has only experienced a single year of relatively radiation-free, sludge-free, organic, non-Black Mesa- poisoned air and also freedom (to an extent) since. You know. Almost dying and also losing his right arm in Black Mesa. Where he jumped into a few portals, one of which leading to an alien world called Xen, where he had to kill what seemed to him at the time a spiteful god against his own existence. 

That, and not the Joshua-loves-space part, is the part he didn’t see coming. Hadn’t. Still doesn’t, if he can be honest for a minute. There are days it still doesn’t feel real, just to contrast nicely with the days when what’s left of his right arm and his right shoulder hurt, and days when power outage hit unexpectedly and the lights went out without warning, and days when he fights to not let some stupid fucked up slights against him go because that’s just how the world is that’s how things are now keep your head down and don’t think Gordon just shoot just let your trigger finger pull itself in you are in a comedy of error a laugh track a monkey on a leash just dance just move your feet j

Hey, no digging your heels in there. Throw yourself off your rhythm, Gordon. Joshua. Joshua loves space. Joshua is going to an elementary school now. Joshua just came home from a “career” day, and the parent invited to speak is a retired astronaut. 

Joshua said: “I wanna be an astronaut when I grow up!”

Joshua likes numbers. Somewhat. He’s not averse to them, at the very least, and homework’s kind of bullshit from the concept to the execution but when Gordon and Tommy and Coomer sit down to keep him engaged while he does it he has fun with math homework. He likes video games, he likes the puzzles in the youth magazines they signed up for at his school, he likes messing with shape blocks and pulls out some cool combinations Gordon doesn’t see coming sometimes. Joshua is a smart kid that enjoys a fair challenge. Joshua is totally astronaut materials. 

Joshua is going to space. 

Joshua is absolutely going to space. 

Xen is, coincidentally, also in space. 

Gordon is calm. He totally has a good poker face. He performs well under pressure, especially very specific types of pressure, e.g. when there are rules in place he can cling to and ground out an appropriate plan of action. He could improvise a presentation in class in a pinch, because he knew what presentations are and what he’s been working on and what the teacher expected. He could jimmy his car out of an ice patch, because he knew how cars work and how ice acts. He can smile and say “That’s great, Joshie! You just gotta work hard for it, and then you’ll be in space in no time.”

Gordon has an image he can provide to show how he feels.

[Picture ID: a drawing of Gordon Freeman standing in front of his son Joshua, cut off at their chest. Gordon is a tall man, a bit heavyset, with tan skin and mid-back length, messy curly brown hair that’s greyed at his temples due to stress from surviving the hellhole that is Black Mesa and Xen. He’s wearing his comfortable worn-and-faded t-shirt, which is orange with a very faded graphic printed on the front. Joshua is a young boy with brown skin and short dark curly hair, brown eyes that’s brimming with light and happiness, and a wide happy smile. He’s wearing a light green t-shirt. Gordon is smiling at him, with another shot of his face enlarged and superimposed on the drawing right next to his head. This Gordon is screaming. This Gordon is screaming his heart out, and his face is scrunched up while his mouth opens wide, and he’s screaming a silent scream and he will never stop.]

---

Contrary to how it appears to everyone, Benrey doesn’t live full time at the Freemans’. 

Well. He does “sleep” there. If he actually sleeps. That’s one of the questions that Gordon has had ever since Black Mesa that he never got to or bothered to ask, and then when they had to defeat Benrey in the final boss fight he thought that was it with his chance to ever ask. And then Benrey came back and the situation took a hard left into throw-the-whole-suitcase-out awkwardness and Gordon thought it better to never bring those questions up ever again. It’s. Ongoing. Like his climb back into being a normal, mostly law abiding, neutral good citizen, who has no ties to that research facility that blew up and opened a portal to hell in space. 

It helps that Benrey really is just… a dude. Now that he’s not eighty feet tall and clipping through walls anymore, he can definitely pass as someone who just really loves to mess with people for a laugh. Which… well, Gordon’s judgement of character is probably better discarded in the kitchen trash compactor now, but he’s not gonna lie and say that’s all Benrey seems to him. He doesn’t even mess with people for laugh, not really. He is just. Like that. He’s an alien, but in the sense that’s… 

Well, to Benrey, humans are alien. So that’s that. 

And also Black Mesa did stretch the definition of ‘human’ in the physical sense pretty thin. So, again, that’s that. It all fits together like sliced pita bread. 

The other thing that helps is that Gordon has the tendency to forget about risks or consequences when they are not directly in front of him, which he sometimes overcorrects, but this time around it helps move the sentiment into the philosophical window pretty quick, and then he can throw a brick through that one, because philosophy sucks ass. Gordon’s moving along well! He only had to change prosthetics twice because the first two were in order too heavy for his shoulder and too energy consuming, and all three are fully covered by the overlords that didn’t want Black Mesa to become a Thing in history, and now he works remotely for a uni that just lets whatever happen. It’s chill. It’s mostly chill. 

He could’ve just chugged along never thinking even an inch deeper about Benrey’s Benrey-ness again, and Benrey makes that easy, because Benrey loves walking around and looking at things and being a bit of a spectacle with a straight face. Okay, Gordon doesn’t know for sure if Benrey loves doing those things, because he’s not Benrey. He just knows that Benrey does those things, frequently, and with an expertise that baffles even him, who knows full well how Benrey is. Well enough. Awkward territory, all of this is, really. The Point Is that Benrey actually doesn’t appear at home too much! He plays games through the night sometimes, sure, and ever since he called second dibs on any cereal in the apartment he always appears at the right time to claim that, but the whole thing is. Balanced. Benrey doesn’t seem to have physical personal belongings outside of the PS3 and four copies of Heavenly Sword he lugged back one day (the rest of the game library everyone kinda chimed in here and there to build up, because console is common ground fair use for everyone, while PC is where Gordon streams and also works, so it’s off limit), and he rarely uses utensils to eat anything, so to anyone but the team it’d seem like he’s barely there at all. Except for his presence of course. That’s… a lot harder to negotiate.

Gordon’s gotten very, extremely good at it though. It’s his life. Things fit together, mostly. He can deal, he has been dealing, and it’s even been fun. It’s definitely really funny here and there. 

Gordon’s about to break the equilibrium. Introduce a nasty new specimen into the scene.

“Bro I knocked for a hot minute,” Benrey says, at the same time as Gordon’s blurting out, “I need to go back to Xen.” 

“Huh.”

“Wha- Why do you knock? You’ve never knocked. You’ve literally only ever broken in.” 

“Wanna… start now.” Benrey intones in that exact way, and then knocks on the door again. It doesn’t even sound good. These doors are all made with the weird thick composite that makes a dull plastic sound when knocked on. 

“Don’t do that, just use the doorbell if you want to-” Gordon catches himself. “No matter. I need to go back to Xen. As soon as possible, but anytime in the next… twelve years… will work.” 

Benrey just looks at him for a long time. An extended minute. Maybe even two. 

Gordon is just staring back. 

“You’re at. The door.” Benrey says, in a low voice. Gordon blinks. “Rude… rude little boy Freeman, huh.” 

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Benrey-”

“Gonna let me in? Soon? ‘s bad etiquette… greeter… doesn’t even let guests in. Bet your wares aren’t even good.” 

“Alright! Alright.” Gordon snaps, but he also does step back for Benrey to walk in, which. Really, that’s never been necessary. Benrey’s always come in and out as he pleases. Usually Gordon just walks out into the living room and Benrey’s already on the couch playing whatever game catches his eyes on that day. The decorum of knocking and walking in is simply never present. 

Well, Benrey does knock on Joshua’s bedroom door. But that’s it. 

They walk together into the living room, then Benrey situates himself on the couch, and Gordon settles on the carpeted floor next to the table to observe him. He’s never seen Benrey actually fold his limbs up into the position he’s usually already in when walked in on before. It’s mostly normal movements, which still catches Gordon off-guard a bit.

“Nice couch you’ve got here,” Benrey says, and pulls out his phone to fiddle with. It’s a Nokia 2700 Classic, with a theme downloaded from the Ovi Store, and a firefighter-themed 2D platformer that does get insanely hard in places. Tommy got him a snazzier Blackberry a while back, but he refused that one. Gordon didn’t really get it, but. Whatever. 

“It’s always been here,” Gordon replies on reflex.

“Liar… Gordon Lie… man.” Benrey seems to need to chew on that one for a second. “Gordon Lieman. This building’s like. Ten years old.” 

“That’s practically forever dude.  That’s longer than they sent me to MIT for. Joshua’s not even that old.” 

“He’s gonna. In… seven… years.” 

Gordon remembers what he needs to talk with Benrey about again. “Goddamnit,” he slaps his own face - not with the hard prosthetic this time, thank you very much. Took him six months of HEV training and a year with a prosthetic to get it to heart. “Okay, so. Xen.”

“Wait. Math’s wrong… eleven. Years.”

“Don’t distract me! Xen!” Gordon throws his arms up, finally making Benrey actually look at him proper. “Joshua wants to be an astronaut when he grows up.” 

Benrey puts his phone down. 

“Yeah,” Gordon scrubs his face, with his flesh hand. “So I need to… do something about Xen. I have a plan. I need to find materials, and then I need a way to Xen…” 

“What’s an astronaut.” 

“A- no.” Gordon sits up straight. “No, you’re fucking with me. You’re doing this on purpose. I’m fucking about to go nuts, dude.” 

Benrey looks him up and down, makes sure his head movement is clear in the dark living room, lit only by the lamppost outside the window. “Yeah,” he says, “no shit. You wanna go back to… Xen… and stuff. Freeman lost his mind.” 

Gordon opens his mouth to retort, but then closes it with a click. “Okay,” he mumbles after a moment of thinking it over, “okay. I get where you’re coming from.”

“Haha, get it. ‘cause I’m from. Xen. And shit.” 

“Not funny, dude.” It is a bit funny. “But I’m not- okay, so, listen, Joshua’s a determined kid, alright? He’s smart, and he’s healthy, and he likes space. He’s… the chance of him becoming an astronaut is not zero.” Gordon pulls his legs up to his chest. “If it’s up to me, it’s gonna be a hundred percent, ‘cause that’d make him so happy. But even if I’m not the one writing the almighty script I’m still gonna do my best to help him if he’s serious.” 

Benrey continues looking at him. “Uh-huh.”

“And… that includes. Never letting him near Xen.” 

“Mm.”

“And I know, I know Xen’s like. Ten fucking floating rocks at least a million Texas lengths away from Earth, but it’s still there, y’know? It’s still there. You’re from there! You know it’s still…” 

“Yeah?”

“... I. Want to blow Xen up.” 

Benrey settles into the draw-me-like-a-French-girl pose. “Sounds good. How’re we doing that.”

“Well, we’ll need explosives that can actually detonate in Xen’s climate, and acquiring that’s gonna put me on so many shitlist-” Gordon almost physically grabs his own hand to yank himself back to Benrey’s answer. “Wait. Are you really just… relenting? Are you actually in this now. Benrey?”

“Say more about the explosive though.” Benrey blinks innocently at him. “Please? Explosive cool. Maybe illegal. Super cool though.” 

Gordon is not doing the frog mouth thing. He’s not. He’s totally not. He sighs a long sigh; there, no more rude expression. “I am only thinking about using explosives, because it’s costly and we’re gonna have to transport it. So you have nothing to snitch about. Who would you even snitch to, anyway? Fucking- we are under an indefinite two-way nondisclosure clause, if any of us ever open our mouth to a stranger about that we’re gonna get sacked, but. Wait are you even involved in that? You came back after we signed those papers. Well Tommy’s officially ‘representing’ us, so it’s all tangential kinda, so maybe he can just add you, but why would you-”

“No explosive run huh… What’re you gonna… use. Then.” 

“-subject yourself to the law- alright, yeah uh. To be honest I was thinking raw force? Because I do have around twelve years to make this work, and Coomer has insane strength that has leveled a Xen island before, and Bubby is… I think he just isn’t aware that there’s supposed to be a limit to human strength at all. They forget to put that in when they pumped him with knowledge juice. He can- wait, Bubby can just make fire. He can maybe negate the climate conditions for us, so explosives are still in the question here, and- Darnold, last I heard he’s doing some ‘Sour Patch Kids but real’ stuff… sounds like seriously corrosive stuff… We can. We can have a plan.”

Benrey is on his phone again. “Nice.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Gordon dry swallows some dust from the carpet. He realizes he’s gripping on it pretty hard with his prosthetic; he’s close to ripping a chunk of it out. He takes a deep breath and relaxes the plastic hand. “We’re gonna need to make and test the explosives, and we’re. I need to tell everyone. Convince them to help. And we’ll need a portal back to Xen.”

Benrey’s still clicking away on his phone - probably playing that firefighter game again - but he’s looking at Gordon at the same time. Gordon looks up just in time to catch the sharp grin disappearing from his face. 

Alright. Maybe Benrey does love doing Benrey things. At least one of them’s actively enjoying this.

---

Gordon’s well aware how ridiculous he is. Is sometimes seen as. Perceived as. Terminologies.

Mostly he copes fine with that. He’s lived it for as long as he’s alive. Most decisions he makes are met with a raised eyebrow at the sublest and outright laughter at the rudest. Transitioning, that was a long, long period of his parents going from “haha funny joke but don’t tell it in public yeah” to “oh shit that’s for real huh? That’s for real” to confused, but silent, silence. Him applying for MIT and seeking a scholarship was definitely the career advisor at his high school laughing uncomfortably for a long time, because Gordon’s never held down a project properly, has he? How’s he doing this? And then him adopting Joshua officially was at least ten separate conversations with Joshua’s grandparents patting him on the back, it’s okay if you don’t! We can care for him. It’s nice to have children around the house again! We know you’re busy! We know there’s things youngsters like you want to do before getting tied down with children. Trust us, we know. You don’t have to . 

Gordon knows. He’s never had to make any of the decisions he actively made, but one, that’s why they’re decisions and not punishments , and two, in many ways including cerebral, he did. Kind of have to. In many ways those are the only steps that make sense for him to take. They were the foundation to who he is as a person, with a sense of self that must be supernaturally obscure, because he’s. He’s got a lot of things to balance. A lot of tight ropes to walk. 

Gordon’s many things, a lot of those he doesn’t fucking recall himself. Maybe that’s by itself absurd enough. He’s had a lot of time to learn, and a bit of time to relearn, being okay with being absurd. 

Black Mesa “helped”, in the same way it spared the rest of him when it got his arm cut the fuck off. It’s a horror comedy. It gave him a bit of a new perspective on absurdity. 

“Don’t you dare,” Gordon grouches, because he’s learning. He’s always learning. “Don’t use the a-word.” 

Bubby puts his arm together in front of his chest. “I’m not about to! Don’t presume you know what I will do.” 

In a way Bubby’s incredulous look stings worse than Benrey’s deflection, Gordon reasons, because Benrey has emotional (?) stakes in Xen’s existence. Maybe he has an external heart or something that’s still beating and keeping him alive on Xen, though Gordon hopes he’d’ve at least been transparent about that when they talked about blowing the place up. Bubby though, Bubby doesn’t have emotional ties to many things altogether. Bubby’s also a tube baby who sets himself on fire with his thoughts. Himself and other people and/or objects. Not as absurd as Benrey being Benrey, but absurd enough to be way above Gordon on the a-scale, and thus has no rights to call Gordon absurd. 

“You have to admit though,” Bubby says after a moment of silence.

Gordon takes a deep breath. “No, actually, I don’t have to admit shit,” he says, with what he can call patience with just a little bit of definition stretching, “you ever thought of that? I actually can just never admit that blowing up a whole planetoid system is a bit out-of-the-box thinking of me. I can just say that it’s totally normal and expected behavior of me, and what’re you gonna do with that? Huh? Do go on.” 

“Oh don’t be pissy at me,” Bubby huffs, and goes back to staring at the buoy bobbing on the water surface, tied to his fishing line. “You’re scaring away the fish, Gordon. Everyone knows you don’t talk and stomp around on the piers while people are fishing. It’s rude.”

“You’re literally only trying to see if you can set a fish on fire as a prank,” Gordon points out, more for his own sanity than to prove anything to anyone, least of all Bubby.

Benrey looks like he’s ignoring Gordon and Bubby’s exchange, just sitting at the edge of the piers, legs swinging evenly, but Gordon well knows he’s listening in. If not because he’s somewhat invested then because most things that frustrate Gordon is great entertainment to him. 

He is, maybe, a bit, somewhat invested though, must be. He brought Gordon to where Bubby and Coomer are camping, afterall. No reasons else to do it, especially when they have time to wait for them to come back to civilization. Twelve years, in fact. 

Gordon can wait (he can forget, but in his book that’s the same as waiting, really), and he doesn’t begrudge Bubby and Coomer’s “honeymoon trip”, which has consisted thus far of them trampling about in ~~nature~~ , e.g. deep ends of the world that they do not and should not have access to, but somehow end up in anyway. Gordon only knew because Coomer’s grown fond of taking pictures, and once in a while if they get wifi he sends everyone some. The most memorable one was a pitch black square except for two dots of light in the distance, with the geotag pointing to them being in the Mariana trench. 

They’re having fun, and Darnold and Tommy take effort to “decontaminate” them between trips, as well as make them learn wildlife interaction guidelines (Bubby probably already knew, but he didn’t care, and still nobody’s sure if he cares now), so Gordon doesn’t mind. Has no reason to mind. Until now, but only a tiny bit. 

They decided to stop in a seaside town somewhere up North three days ago, and wifi’s spotty at best but Coomer still managed to send them pictures again - of him fighting a dolphin and Bubby making fun of a goat skeleton in a museum - and then Gordon got tired of staying up thinking about Xen at night and shot his shot. It took them another day to check their message again, and Bubby replied saying “don’t third wheel other people, weirdo” and Gordon just sighed and resigned himself to staying up way too late for another week or so. But then Benrey asked him to go to GameStop with him, which. Admittedly that was suspicious as hell, but Gordon reasoned Benrey knocked and asked to be let in the other day, so what the fuck, right. And then he stepped through the GameStop’s door, noticing the glass being darker than usual, and ended up on this piers where Bubby’s been trying to have a laugh at some poor fish’s expense.

Bubby made fun of him for third wheeling again, despite Benrey also being right there, and despite Coomer not even being there. 

“Did you guys have a fight or something?” Gordon asked, because maybe he can be a little bit spiteful. He’s allowed. 

“No,” Bubby grumbled. “Harold impressed Gregory with his punching power, so he’s invited to the Punching Tournament. I don’t like being in water for a long time so I stayed. Their sandwich’s not even good.” 

Gregory turned out to be the giant squid that lives a few kilometers off the shore, and another few kilometers under the sea level.

“I’m gonna issue an a-word ban, actually,” Gordon declares, when he comes back to where Bubby’s sitting on his journey to wear a track into the piers. “I think that’s more conducive to real conversations.” 

He’s being distracted, he knows. And maybe he’s letting himself be a bit distracted, so he can have a minute to improvise a script. Benrey just fast traveled him here, he did not prepare any materials, he doesn’t even have his notebook with him. That’s where all of his plans are! And his doodles. Mostly his doodles, but that’s a part of his thinking process, so he’s allowed. 

“Alright, Mister Fucking-Insane-Person,” Bubby shrugs.

“Doctor.”

“Oh, my bad! Doctor Fucking-Insane-Person.”

“Also that’s a ban dodge and you know it. Also you still don’t have any rights to call me anything! I refuse to submit in this matter.”

Bubby turns around fully to put his hand on crossed legs and stare at Gordon. “You sure, Gordon? Are you very sure about that, when you warp out of thin air to where I am missing my husband very much and not torturing fishes for fun, saying things about blowing Xen up ? Is that not ragingly absurd, Doctor ?” 

Gordon takes another deep breath. For his own benefit. For his own wellbeing. “Okay, one, Benrey warped me here, I was not responsible for that. Two, you’re trying to set fishes on fire, and your husband is punching more fishes while a giant squid cheers him on, probably. And three, which part of blowing Xen up is absurd, now? Feel free to elaborate on it. I’m all ears.”

“The very idea of it!” Bubby exclaims, accidentally shoving his fishing rod off the optimal position, chasing away the few fishes not shunned by his radiating malicious intent yet. “Who even thinks of that?”

“Me,” Gordon snaps back, “and you guys kinda ruined what ‘absurd’ even means at all for me, so don’t try me at it.”

Bubby shuts his mouth with a click, but his brows are still furrowed in the exact way that claims, loudly even if soundlessly, that he thinks that’s stupid.

“No, go on, Doctor Bubby,” Gordon presses. “You’ve got the quiz. Try your hand at it again, go ahead.”

“Alright, then, how are we even doing it? If we’re doing it. And there’s no we yet, mind you.” 

“I- okay.” Gordon holds his hands up. “I’ll admit I do not have the specifics yet. But logistically at least, it’s entirely possible. We’ll need,” he calculates a number real quick, “thirteen hundred pounds of column charge slurry, but if we have something high corrosive we can wrap up safely until detonation we’ll need even less. We can. Make that much. If we have Darnold’s help. We need access to Xen itself, which Tommy has the biggest chance to get. We’ll need to put the explosives deeper into the ground than surface level, so we’ll need to dig some holes, but with Doctor Coomer’s strength we can take care of that. And then we’ll need to trip it, and that might pose a problem in Xen’s climate, but we can manage a chemical fuse, or. Y’know. Just burn it hot enough to explode, which.” 

He ends that speech with a vague and a bit jerky wave of his hand towards Bubby. 

Bubby just blinks. “Huh.” 

Benrey snickers under his breath, either at a fish or at Bubby’s reaction, Gordon doesn’t know. He wouldn’t even be able to guess, since Benrey still has his back to the entire commotion.

Gordon catches himself holding his breath, so he consciously exhales slowly. It’s okay. It’s whatever. He has twelve years. He can take some detours if necessary. He can forget, even. Maybe.

“That Doctorate turns out to be for something, huh,” Bubby continues. “That does sound pretty plausible, afterall.”

“Huh,” Gordon’s turn to blink. “Wait, that’s it? You’re in now?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Bubby swings his arm out, “even though I’d like to be testy for a while longer, I also want to blow things up. Outside is very large, but it severely lacks opportunities to see things explode, so I’ll have to make it happen myself now.” 

That’s a tiny bit worrying, but Gordon’ll take it. He’s used to Bubby being a tiny bit worrying anyway. Wouldn’t be Bubby without it. 

“Now shoo,” Bubby turns around to fiddle with his fishing rod again, carefully moving it back to the optimal position, “you chased all the fishes off. Gonna have to start my work from the beginning now. It’s hard work tricking fishes, you know.” 

“Don’t tell Coomer,” Gordon warns, “I want to let him know myself.” 

“Sure, sure.” 

“I’m serious.”

“Aren’t you ever.” 

Gordon figures he’s done all he can on that front. 

Benrey catches up with him when he’s walked away dramatically for a few minutes and is now at the main street of the town. “Rudeman.”

Gordon did forget him at the piers, so that’s on him. “Sorry, but also, do you have a plan to get us home, or what? ‘Cause I don’t have my car and I’m not hitching a random ride if I can help it.” 

“Gotta... find a GameStop first. Score some Sports Champions 2 for the. PS3.” 

“Alright.” Gordon nods. “Wait, do you need a GameStop to transport us? Is that a thing?”

“Huh,” Benrey just looks at him, and then pulls out his brick phone.

Gordon rolls his eyes, but then catches a glimpse of the screen, and sees the digital clock. “It’s- fuck, it’s almost five! Joshua’s almost home.”

“Oh look, no GameStop on the… roadside. What’re we gonna do.”

“Benrey, you- goddamnit,” Gordon frantically pulls his phone out of his pocket. He tries to yank his right arm out of Benrey’s hold to hold it steady, but Benrey doesn’t yield. “Fucking, let me,” he unlocks it and finds Joshua’s number, which is on top, because he added ‘01’ before his name, because he’s had plenty of experiences with arranging files so they don’t disappear on him, “c’mon, c’mon… Hey Joshie! Are you at school right now?” 

“Hi Dad, yes,” Joshua answers, at the same time Gordon registers that he’s walking, Benrey pulling on his arm. 

“Sorry I called in the middle of class, buddy, but we’re gonna. I’m gonna be a bit late home, okay? I’m outside right now, but I’m on my way- oh, no, we.”

They’re in his living room. Gordon puts his arm, just released, on top of the couch. This is his couch. The bowl of cereal he finished right before Benrey dragged him out’s still on the table. The PS3 lays silent in the TV cabinet, as it’s always been. He does go around the table to put his free hand on all of these things just to be sure. 

“Dad?” Joshua asks from the other end of the line. “Are you okay?”

“I.” Gordon dry swallows. “No, yeah I- I got home. Me and Benrey were out for a bit and we got? Lost? But we found our way back, and I’m. I’m home now. I was really worried I wouldn’t make it back in time to open the door for you, so I called! But I’m home now.”

“That’s good!” Joshua says, even though Gordon can still hear worry in his voice. Sweet kid, his boy is. “Thank you for telling me in ad-advance.” 

“I’m sorry I interrupted your class. Dad’ll be more careful next time.” 

“It’s okay. What are we having tonight?” 

Gordon takes a deep breath, holds it in for a moment, and then breathes it out, slowly. “We can have mac and cheese again, or we can try our hand at naan and make some soup to go with it,” he says, willing his voice to calm down. “We still have the yeast Ms. Juney gave us last month, right? We can go get bread flour when you’re home.”

“Okay.”

“Go back to class, buddy. See you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Can we have chowder tonight too?” 

Gordon laughs. “We’ll look into it, but sure! If we can find the ingredients for it. Alright, bye now. Love you, honey.”

“Okay,” Joshua says again, and when Gordon’s about to move the phone from his ear, he adds, “Love you too, Dad.” And then he hangs up. 

Gordon goes to the couch and sits down. He’s maybe cradling his phone a bit. It’s still warm from him gripping on it way too hard. Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

“That went well, huh,” Benrey says, from the hallway. Gordon looks up to see him closing the door behind him, what looks like a copy of Sports Champions 2 for the PS3 in hand. 

Gordon laughs, again, for real this time. “That’s- where'd you even get that?

---

They did make naan, or a version of it. Joshua likes messing with flour, Gordon caught him walking his fingers through the bowl, leaving tiny “footprints”. They couldn’t agree on a fish to put in the chowder, so they shelved that plan and bought some canned beef-and-vegetables soup instead. The naan turned out… fine. They tasted enough like naan, and Gordon only burned like two. Which was maybe thanks to the apartment’s stove top burning a bit less hot than it did the last time they used it; Gordon made a mental note to check on the gas or. Whatever one does. When that happened. He just needed to look up a number, call it, and stand next to the (hopefully) professional who would come while they did their work. 

Benrey sat at the couch while the Freemans cooked and ate their dinner, either being on his phone or scrolling idly through the PS3’s library. Joshua asked if he could try and throw naan pieces into Benrey’s mouth from the kitchen table, which Gordon allowed, but with the preset limit of only three pieces, and the condition that he picked up the ones that missed himself. He then asked Benrey very politely if he could open his mouth to catch the bread, and then made a lot of mental calculations before throwing each piece. The first one missed, but the other two were snatched up by Benrey in a somewhat shark-like display, which Joshua clapped excitedly for. 

Gordon heard Benrey come to the kitchen table, which Joshua was wiping off with the designated kitchen rag (the fourth one this month alone; it feels like someone’s eating them as they’re replaced sometimes), while he was cleaning the dishes. “Hey lil’ gamer dude,” Benrey said, and Gordon could hear him rustle around in a pocket of his puffy vest. “Scored big in the. Minigame.”

“Thank you,” Joshua replied politely. 

“Here’s your price,” Benrey said. Gordon assumed Joshua was holding out his hands to receive whatever Benrey gave him, because he couldn’t hear any noise that thing made, just Joshua’s little excited gasp. 

“It’s like the... Intarna-Internation… nal… Space Station!” 

“Huh,” Gordon could hear Benrey blink, “that’s what it is…” 

“Yeah! These are, here, they’re solar panels! They charge the batteries in here.” 

“Nice.” 

“Thank you Benrey!” 

“Yeah, GG.” And then Benrey shuffled back to the couch, if Gordon interpreted the noises correctly. 

Joshua held onto the price trinket until he asked Gordon to put it in the tool cabinet, along with the cake moulds and decoration kit courtesy of Gordon’s hectic MIT years. It was… Gordon could see why Joshua thought that was where it should go. It could be considered a cookie cutter, if the shape weren’t kinda suboptimal for a cookie. It also did look like the ISS, with wings and all. 

Nobody in this household’s baked anything sweet in this apartment for at least a year, but. Well. Never say no to free, reusable stuff.

  Gordon’s phone vibrates when he’s just sat down at the kitchen table again, a mug of garbage instant coffee in hand. He abandons it to go get his phone from where it’s charging on the living room table.

It’s Coomer. “It’s Coomer,” Gordon says out loud. “That’s weird- he’s. He doesn’t call.” 

“He’s calling. Now.” Benrey says from where he’s sitting, on the couch. Gordon takes a deep breath and doesn’t deign it worth a rebuttal. He accepts the call instead.

“Hello Gordon! I heard you want to blow Xen up.” 

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Bubby told you.” 

“He did! In great details!”

“I- alright, whatever, I didn’t expect actual results with that one anyway.” Gordon remembers about his coffee. He comes back to where it’s waiting for him on the kitchen table, and takes himself a generous sip, letting it burn his mouth. “Fuck!” He sets the cup down maybe a bit forcefully. “Oh that’s a bad decision. What did- what did he tell you?” 

Coomer takes a moment to gather his thoughts, leaving a blank minute where sounds of the wind and waves on the shore come through his mic. Gordon hopes he isn’t thinking about sleeping out there tonight, for the full nature flavor or whatever. “ A large part of his speech was about explosion! And how big and grand it would be. And also about how much he fucking hates Xen!” 

“Glad we agree on that front,” Gordon mumbles. 

“So am I! I also fucking hate Xen!” 

“That’s. That’s fair, really, it’s a garbage place. But- did he, like. Have you heard anything about the actual plan? Did he tell you anything about the actual plan I definitely mentioned to him?”

Coomer pauses for another moment, probably to recall. “Nope! Not a word about a plan-”

“I fucking knew it,” Gordon mumbles.

 “-though that is very thorough of you, Gordon!”

"Okay, listen,” Gordon picks his mug of coffee up and starts pacing. “I actually don’t… have all of it yet. I know me and Benrey are in,” he flicks his gaze to Benrey again, who does nothing to deny the statement, “and Bubby’s now in as well. I still need to- okay, the plan’s basically that we find or make enough explosive for the ten asteroids on Xen, we bury it at the core of said asteroids, and we blow that up so it blows Xen up. I have- I don’t know the specifics of how to make that much explosive yet, but I’ll convince Darnold somehow, and if he sits this one out then we’ll borrow his lab when he’s not using it. And I’ll ask Tommy about a way back to Xen, his. His dad’s done that plenty. He doesn’t seem to like Xen much, right? That’s the impression I got, so we can spin this into us doing him a favor or something. And then we transport the explosive to Xen, I can borrow a truck for that, I know someone, and then we dig into the ground there, that’s where we can really use your superstrength, and then we put the explosive in and. Set it on fire. Bubby, uh, agreed to take care of that.” 

Another beat of silence follows Gordon’s speech. He seems to have been making that one a lot recently, mostly to himself, in his room, while writing things down in his notebook. He finds himself chewing on his own lip, so he makes himself stop and takes another gulp of the coffee, which has thankfully cooled down to gulp-appropriate temperature.

When Coomer speaks again, he seems to have chosen his words carefully. “I will need to ‘sleep’ on this, Gordon. You are right in your assessment that you do not have your plan together yet!”

Gordon takes a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he says, as much to Coomer as to himself. “It’s true. It’s half-thought up right now. I still need to figure out- figure out Darnold and Tommy and Mr. Coolatta. I, yeah,” his voice’s dropped to a mumble by now, “I think I need to sleep on it too.” 

“Gordon.” The rustles that accompany Coomer’s voice gives the impression that he’s sitting down onto the pebble-littered beach as he speaks. “I would like to see Xen obliterated, and I think we can get it done.”

“That’s,” Gordon stops on his pacing in the kitchen, “That’s not. It’s okay if you’re not interested, Coomer. You don’t have to walk it back on me.”

“Please do not question my fucking hatred for Xen, Gordon.”

“O-okay.”

“But I am not in favor of hazy dreams anymore. I have gotten to see a lot during my ‘honeymoon’, and now I have broken free, and mere words on a script cannot placate me. I would like to see proof that it’s possible before I participate.” 

Gordon takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“I believe you can do it, Gordon!”

“Thank you,” Gordon says, a little bit dazed, while Bubby’s voice comes through from a distance at the same time, “Are you reciting poetry again?” 

“In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes?” Coomer answers. “On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?”

“Stop praising that tiger while I’m right here!” 

“I’ll,” Gordon says before Coomer can get fully caught up in Bubby’s antics again, “I’ll come back to you with. The details. When I’ve hashed it out. Thanks for,” he exhales, “thanks for holding out for me, Coomer.” 

“So it is, Gordon, so it will be!” 

Coomer hangs up there, and Gordon sits down at the kitchen table again. He finishes the mug of coffee in one long gulp. It’s gone a little bit more room-temperature than he likes. 

“Sleep on it,” he mumbles, “good advice.” 

“You should. Do that.” Benrey says from the couch. “Sleep good for body for soul.” 

“You know what, when you’re right,” Gordon says, and stands up and goes brush his teeth. He then sits down at his work table and writes down questions until four in the morning.

---

Gordon used to suck at making phone calls. He’s kind of a champion at it now.

Funny thing is there’s an epiphany to it as well: he didn’t grow up with cell phones, so making phone calls was a hierarchical thing for him until he was like. Twenty years old. Kids used the landline when absolutely necessary only, and adults used it whenever they damn well pleased, because they paid for it and they had businesses to take care of . And Gordon was… not much of a rule breaker, surprisingly enough. Oh he fell short of where rules lay plenty, but he didn’t really intentionally break them. So he took calls when his parents said he could and when he absolutely needed to, and that habit persisted well into his adulthood. 

He might also just be not very good at holding his tongue when speaking and. That was no good for phone calls. Kiddies phone calls. ‘cause he just realized one day that adults said whatever the fuck they wanted on the phone really, and nobody chastised them for it, no divine punishment, no sudden death round. 

A sermon on self-love, that was; Gordon just takes phone calls now. Worst case scenario, he just turns his brain off and lets his mouth do its work. When people don’t presume they know better than him, they don’t presume he’s talking out of his ass ninety percent of the time. 

That’s- that’s what he thought. Gordon’s wrong, a little bit. He can be wrong. Has been wrong plenty before. He can correct himself, here, he’s gonna do it right now: worst case scenario, he has to recite his plan, conceived so far in total isolation from anyone he knows and whose opinions he cares about, to the person who’s the most skittish and averse to what his plan is bringing about among those people, over the phone, where he can’t see and gauge body language and facial expressions. 

Gordon would… like to meet Darnold face to face for this. But. It’s work. It’s, well, it’s closer to work than to play, given that he’s gotten mildly stressed out over it, and their lunch at the only Taco Bell in the whole desert is strictly pleasant, not-work talk only. And Gordon really, really enjoys those lunch dates, because he never has to think about damage control or having an identity crisis in the middle of one. They’re just nice, normal, a tiny bit shouty (the Taco Bell is usually packed and the acoustic’s not good, but it’s a Taco Bell, and it’s a ritual now), mostly jovial, lunch with a friend, eating subpar food he’s learned to enjoy. They don’t talk about what happened at Black Mesa, they don’t talk about work in general, they don’t even talk about soda outside of appraising the gaudy color combinations for any new sponsored drink. They talk about Joshua, about Darnold’s cat Lumbar Support, about Coomer and Bubby’s travelling, about new game releases, about Sega vs. Nintendo, about the weather. 

Gordon doesn’t want to fall short of where the rules lie, not this time. So he calls. 

“Doctor Freeman?” Darnold answers with the title, which sets the tone pretty well. Gordon takes a deep breath and steels himself. 

“Doctor Pepper.” He pauses. “Darnold. Hey. I, uh, I’ve got a thing I wanna ask.” 

“Go ahead!” Darnold goes quiet for a moment, to finish his sandwich, Gordon’d guess. He’s called in the middle of Darnold’s lunch break. “I must preface however that we’re working outside of office hours, and I can only advise you at the moment. Anything further will have to go through the… official channels.”

“Okay, that’s alright. I just.” Gordon worries his lips. He realizes he’s tugging pretty hard on his left sleeve; he makes himself let go. “I have a. Plan. That’ll need your expertise.” 

“I’d be delighted to help then! Feel free to share more.” 

“It’s about, uh.” Gordon takes another deep breath. He’s been consuming a lot of oxygen recently. “IwanttoblowXenup?”

Darnold goes, predictably, quiet for a moment. It doesn’t sting less when it’s predictable.

When he speaks again, it’s in a clipped, professional-but-barely tone. “Please say that again, but slowly.”

Gordon closes his eyes against the sunlight streaming in from the window in his bedroom. “I want to. Blow Xen up.” 

“Gordon,” Darnold sighs. “Doctor Freeman.” 

“I know.”

“Your megalomaniacal tendencies have grown since we last met.”

“It’s not- I’m not doing it for fun!” Gordon throws his free arm up. “Okay, this is genuinely a lot of effort and stress for something I’d do for pleasure, Darnold. I also couldn’t care less about fucking Xen - okay that’s not true, I’ve lost like a week of sleep over blowing it up, that’s not not caring, but like. I can’t. I need it to not be there,” he stands up from his bed and starts pacing, “and I have. A plan. Half of one. About that much. So it’s not hopeless-”

“Gordon, please slow down.”

“-as long as I have your help and- and Tommy’s, okay, I will. uh.” He taps on his thigh with his free hand too, for good measure. Go the whole nine yard with fidgeting, why not. “I. So, Joshua wants to be an astronaut,” he intones, and for the first time in a while he’s reminded again of how this started, how it took over his life for a hot minute, and it almost gives him the hiccups, “and. Y’know. Xen is in space. So it needs to not be there anymore. So I want to. Blow it up.” 

Darnold goes silent again. Gordon thinks he can hear the epiphany punch the air out of him. Fuck, he hates phone calls. 

“As much as I want to berate you about how you’re treating this matter and yourself,” Darnold resumes primly after a moment, “my lunch break is ending in exactly fifty-two seconds, and this sandwich will take me another two bites to get through. I’ll see you in the Taco Bell’s parking lot at three AM this afternoon, Gordon. Drink water.”

He hangs up. Gordon goes drink water.

Benrey clips into the apartment when Gordon’s on his third mug of iced water. “Whoa, hydration streak,” he says, settling himself on the kitchen table. 

“I can go a bit crazy,” Gordon mumbles. “I’m allowed a little bit of funk and insanity. This is my house.” 

“It’s… actually. MFA’s.” 

Gordon groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I tried to forget that. Also it actually belongs to the NRC, since they apparently can just scare MFA into giving employees housing, which I’m really fucking horrified by, but I’m choosing to not think about it, and you can’t make me.” 

“It can be mine soon.”

“Do not attack and dethrone Nils Diaz.”

Benrey huffs. “Killjoy Freeman.” He shifts his pose so he’s sitting up straighter. “You wanna… try out Premium Water? Free trial for a week, you can manually cancel your. Subscription. After.” 

Gordon stares at him. “What’s Premium Water.” 

Benrey opens his jaws, wide, showing his teeth. He points inside as if there’s anything Gordon wants to find at all in there at the moment. Then he closes it with a click and stares back at Gordon. 

Gordon just sighs. “No, Benrey.” 

“Guaranteed beddy bye time, no charge,” Benrey blinks at him. “Black Mesa Sweet Voice™ a hundred percent effective. Five stars… satisfaction… rating.” 

“You’re fucking lying, because I’d never leave it five stars. You get three at best.” 

“Gonna catch you when you fall off the. Chair. Gonna be romantic.”

Gordon laughs. “No, not allowed.” He sighs and finishes the mug of water like it’s mead and he’s some Dungeons and Dragons elven ranger. He gives himself brain freeze. “Ah, fuck, oof,” he slaps his own forehead, “bad decision. Bad decision. Okay, I. I appreciate you asking instead of just going for it, but that’s the reality of asking, right? The person you ask can say no. And you’ve just gotta learn how to deal with it.”

Benrey just keeps staring at him, but he’s used to that now. It’s only a tiny bit unnerving. “How’s learning’s... satisfaction rate.”

Gordon sighs again. “It sucks ass. Fucking hate learning.” 

Benrey grins at him, and then he checks his phone and it’s already time to go.

“Drink this,” Darnold says immediately when Gordon climbs into the shotgun seat of his car, and holds out a beaker of bubbling purple liquid. 

Gordon just stares at it. “Darnold, what is this.” 

Darnold sighs. “It’s the Potion of Not Telling. I also drank a sample before coming here,” he holds up an empty beaker with some of the same purple liquid at the bottom. “It blows us up if we tell our employers what we’re up to.” 

Gordon ponders this very carefully. “Does. Tommy, for example. Does he count as my ‘employer’?” 

“No,” Darnold says. “‘Employers’ only cover people and/or establishments you’re currently under an employee contract with and receiving salary from.” 

“Alright,” Gordon intones carefully, and downs the whole beaker. It tastes like… the jello packaged like seahorses Tommy brings over sometimes. The red ones, specifically. It makes him feel a bit bloated, immediately, and he rubs his side a bit anxiously when he sits down in the car. “You’re actually under NDAs at all times, huh,” he says, as an opening line.

“Same as you, Gordon.” Darnold takes the beaker back from Gordon’s hand and puts it in with the other one. “Black Mesa seeked me out and offered to find me a position in a brewery, as well as fund any of my independent ventures, as long as I do not say a word about what… transpired… back there. The official record’s that I was stranded on an island with curious dino-esque creatures for four years, instead of worked in Black Mesa’s mixology department, and honed my craft with their help, using the fruits native to that island.”

Gordon laughs, and rubs his face with the prosthetic hand. It’s like putting your face on the car’s dashboard. “Sounds like them alright. At least yours sounds exciting, instead of fucking insane. They said I was ‘chasing an entropy in the desert’ and it ‘ate my hand’. What the fuck does that even mean?”

“We attempted feats of miracle, only it was not under their accountability,” Darnold says, “and we were punished for it. No matter, we have more important things at hand. What is this plan you’ve cooked up, Gordon?”

Gordon takes a deep breath, finding it easier than it’s been for a while, and relays what he’s got down of the blow-Xen-up plan to Darnold. They never look at each other meanwhile, both staring at the cars lined up haphazardly in the lane across from them, Gordon in a barren calmness as words leave his mouth, Darnold with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his whole presence compacted into a contemplative, silent piece. 

“That is an intense reaction to a faraway threat, Gordon,” Darnold says when Gordon’s speech is over. “Xen is not only at least a galaxy away, but also a few dimensions over, if I understand the briefing right. I haven’t thought about that wretched place for almost a year.”

“Sorry,” Gordon says, not really feeling any of it, but making the effort. 

“You don’t have to. I understand where you’re coming from.” Darnold taps idly on his own arm. “I was… extracted… swiftly from Black Mesa after I met you and your friends. I did not witness what happened after, but I saw… enough.” He takes a deep breath as well. “We can all have intense reactions to anything.” 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not maladaptive,” Gordon says. He’s gone to therapy. It was really good for helping him build a system that filters out the things that actually fucks him up and makes some sense of the rest, but it doesn’t lift him out of the comedy of his life itself. It can’t. That’s not what therapy’s for. 

“Indeed,” Darnold says. “But I can’t be the judge of that. My domain lies with potion mixing, and I dare say I am a true expert at it, but I can’t claim expertise at other people’s life. Especially not yours.”

“I get it,” Gordon nods. The world kinda bobs a tiny bit when he does that. “I. Know not to indulge my impulse mostly. But sometimes decisions come back to haunt me, and those are usually just about choosing one furniture over another, or tying my shoelaces in the bunny ears way instead of the circle way and having them undone in the middle of a meeting and stepping on them and falling on my face, but this time it’s. It’s Joshua’s life. And there’s just no limit anymore to what can happen, not since.” He swallows. “Black Mesa.” 

Darnold nods. 

Gordon blinks. “I know it’s a little bit crazy.” 

“It might be,” Darnold says, “but as a famous mixologist once said: nothing ventured, nothing gained. Even if that gain is just your peace of mind.” 

Gordon lets out the breath he isn’t even aware he’s been holding. “Thank you.” 

“You do not need to,” Darnold smiles, “I do stand to gain from this as well, since I really need to test this flavouring that’s supposed to land on pleasantly tart on the taste scale but goes into intestine-destroyingly sour territory instead. I need to know what makes it that corrosive, and testing on humans is entirely unethical.” 

---

Gordon got home before Joshua. Benrey’s also not home. He lays down on the couch and takes a nap. 

He wakes to a quilt over most of him, light turned on in the living room and in the kitchen, and silent chatter. His sense of smell kicks in a minute or so into him still laying on the couch, blinking up at the ceiling; he smells fish sauce and sugar cooking. 

“Tommy’s over,” he mumbles. 

“He awakes,” Benrey says, seemingly into thin air. Gordon feels the couch shift minutely as Benrey makes to stand up from where he’s sitting leaning back on it. “Good eatin’. I’ll go get the. Food. Coloring.” 

When Gordon’s gathered enough of himself to sit up, Benrey’s nowhere to be seen. Tommy’s shifting something animatedly on the stove, while Joshua carefully carries one bowl at a time to the kitchen table. 

“Hey Dad!” Joshua says when he catches Gordon’s eyes. He puts the bowl he’s carrying down to free his hand for waving. Gordon waves back. 

“Hey Joshie, hey Tommy. What’re you guys making?” 

“Caramelized pork b-belly!” Tommy says from his stove station. “And... sautéed vegetable medley.” 

“With rice!” Joshua adds.

“A perfectly balanced meal.” 

“I picked the vege-ta-bles!” 

Gordon folds the quilt to busy his hands. This one’s definitely not his. He may have one somewhere in the closet, but it hasn’t made an appearance in… six months. He thinks. “What did you get for us, buddy?” 

“Carrot!” Joshua holds up a finger. “It has a lot of vita- vitamin… A.” 

“Awesome,” Gordon says and goes over to the kitchen table to high five Joshua. “What else did you choose?” 

“String beans!” 

“Oh?” Joshua hasn’t been much for that. 

“Uncle Tommy’s gonna teach me how to eat them!” 

“A dash of- of flavour, packed in one Kn●rr’s Complete Seasoning packet, is all you’ll need!” Tommy switches to a lower voice when Gordon peers over his shoulder at the pan on the stove. “That is not true. Kn●rr is only… fit to be- be on the floor.” 

“Are- you’re not putting that in then?” 

“No, I just use salt and pepper.” 

Joshua giggles. Tommy extends a hand that Joshua can slap on in place of a high five. 

Gordon gets out the utensils - spoon for Joshua, chopsticks for him and Tommy - and brings the rice cooker to the table once the light’s jumped to orange. He plates the pork, scooping Joshua’s helping into his personal plate first, while Tommy finishes with the vegetables. Tommy lets Joshua choose which vegetables to go on his plate; Joshua bravely gets a little bit of everything. 

They eat dinner on top of companionable conversation, Gordon and Tommy taking turns asking Joshua about school and other things. 

“I heard you want to- to be an astronaut,” Tommy asks. Joshua dutifully finishes his mouthful before answering. 

“Yes! I want to go to space!”

“Do you want to meet- aliens?”

“Yeah!” Joshua’s excitement cools down a little bit as he scoops up another spoonful of rice with a piece of string bean carefully balanced on top. “I read the Wiki-pea-dia about it though. They say there’s no dis-discernable e-vidence of aliens yet. We sent the Voyager Golden Records an’ they haven’t… answered yet.” 

“That’s how p-physical mails are,” Tommy smiles while getting himself a piece of the caramelized pork. “It used to take… weeks... before we hear from our friends who are far away. And the- the universe doesn’t have a… an Everywhere Wifi Network yet.” 

Joshua shares a conspiratory look with Gordon and mouths not yet . Gordon laughs. Gordon’s clutching his bowl maybe a bit too tight. 

“You can become an astronaut and- meet aliens. In space,” Tommy waves his chopsticks with a flourish. 

“I’ll teach them what- what e-mails are!” 

“It’ll take a- a lot of hard work, and you have to be able to eat string beans.” Tommy takes an exaggerated look at Joshua’s plate, now cleaned of food. “Oh! Would you l-look at that! Mister Joshua Freeman is… perfect astronaut materials, according to… the NASA guidelines.” 

Joshua beams with a pride that knocks something loose in Gordon’s chest. 

They finish dinner and clean up together, then Gordon sends Joshua back to his room to do his homework, agreeing to an hour of video game after if he can get it done before nine. Gordon cleans the dishes while Tommy puts the kettle on and makes them both hot chocolate. 

“I bought some-something for Joshua today,” Tommy prompts. Gordon looks back to see him hold up the exact same cookie-cutter-thing Benrey gave Joshua the other day. 

“Oh- oh my god.” Gordon laughs. “Holy shit?” 

“Wh-what’s the matter, Gordon?”

“Do you guys have like a hivemind or something?” Gordon pulls off a glove to open the tool cabinet and pull Benrey’s gift out. “Benrey gave Joshua this. I don’t even- what’re these supposed to be? Where d’you guys even get them from?” 

“It’s the- International Space Station Biscuit Cutter!” Tommy puffs out his chest, slightly indignant, but definitely bemused as well. “They’re issued by- NASA, cut from the s-scrap metal of the hulls of… prototype spaceships. They’re very rare!”

Gordon stares at the one in his hand. “And now we have two of them.” 

“They’re… very valuable! You can sell them for a high price.” 

Gordon smiles. He puts Benrey’s apparently rare and expensive gift back into the tool cabinet and puts the glove back on. “You’ve gotta ask Joshua about that. It’s for him, afterall.” 

They fall into a comfortable silence, crumbled into grains only by the click-clack of dishes in the sink and the water running from the faucet. Gordon weaves himself into a solid piece of nerve, bracing, bracing. 

Tommy’s… better acquainted with the crazies of these things than most, maybe. He’s apparently said “fuck it” to the administrative work that his dad would’ve liked to hand back to him at one point, and just. Got a PhD in nuclear physics instead. Gordon’s been through something like that, and from experience he can tell that it would’ve taken real nerve to do it. He also can tell that no matter what it still rubs off on you, and you don’t recover from that kinda consistent exposure to idiosyncrasies, because you don’t ever feel like there’s anything to recover from , really. It’s just how it is, and the world’s off-kilter, not you. Like Benrey, Tommy’s world runs on a different axis, and he and the rest of them are, in many ways, looking both through strange eyes. 

Gordon’s a little bit jealous of that. He’s honestly not sure if he can ever fully get Tommy, but then. Plenty of people never get him, and here he is. He can learn to wear it as well as Tommy, one day. 

Right now though. Tommy’s important to the plan. Gordon knows that, in a theoretical way. Ha, theoretical… 

“I would like to not be insane,” Gordon says, more to himself, at the same time as Tommy setting his cup of hot chocolate down and saying, “Benrey… told me.” 

“Oh… I. That’s? Good?” 

“Wha- you’re not insane , Gordon!” Tommy waves his hand. Gordon can hear it, even if he can’t see it. “You’re… creative.” 

“Thanks Tommy,” Gordon says with a huff of laughter that he doesn’t think reaches Tommy at all. “I. I get it though. I got Bubby to turn around on it, but everyone else did say that it’s a little bit fucked up that I thought of doing that at all.” 

“But they… agreed on helping you anyway.” 

Gordon taps on the metal wall of the sink. “That’s… yeah. Well, other than Coomer.” 

“Doctor Coomer doesn’t think you’re crazy,” Tommy protests. “He just has... boundaries.” 

“That’s fair. He’s allowed that. He more than deserves that.” Gordon blinks. “Wait- why am I arguing down on my side? I need you to be on board for the plan to work.” He laughs, bowing down over the sink. He’s shaking a little bit. “Wow. I’m a little bit gone. Can I be a little bit gone?” 

“You’re… totally allowed, Gordon” He feels Tommy tug on his elbow. With a deep breath, he lets go of where he’s gripping on the edge of the sink with white knuckles, and lets Tommy lead him to the kitchen table. He dutifully sits himself down on a chair, lets Tommy take off the gloves, and holds the cup of hot chocolate Tommy pushes into his hands carefully. “It’s your house.” 

“It’s MFA’s.” 

“It’s yours,” Tommy says, determinedly, and Gordon takes a deep breath and sidesteps every implications that has. “You can have your fears, and… and your plans, and your hopes. For Joshua. It’s your place, Gordon.” 

Gordon takes a shaky sip of the hot chocolate. Tommy puts on the gloves and finishes washing the dishes for him. 

“Sorry,” Gordon says, mostly aiming at the dishes thing, but. He also just kinda wants to put that out there. 

“There’s nothing to be… be sorry for,” Tommy replies, amidst the noises of the dishes and the water running. 

Tommy talks while Gordon drinks his hot chocolate; in the end, whether he wants to or not, he’s accepted a bit of the job the Gman holds. Gordon knows this, that’s how Tommy vouched for and kept the Science Team from a much worse fate than relative freedom except for a story no sane man’d believe anyway. Mister Coolatta Senior seemed to be impressed by the choice, aside from all the worries that come with it. 

“He’s… he’s proud of me,” Tommy says, softly. “I know he only wants what’s best for me.” 

“He’s been awfully accommodating,” Gordon says, remembering about the movie night they had after Tommy’s birthday bash last year. That man pulled a gun on him. As if he’d walk out on Tommy, if Tommy’d asked for him to stay around. 

“He… doesn’t involve me… with his problems,” Tommy says. “Some parents do that.” 

Gordon can’t find anything to say to that, so he finishes his hot chocolate. 

“I got a vote when they brought Xen up the-the other day,” Tommy says, when the dishes have all been cleaned and put on the rack to dry. He pulls out the chair next to Gordon and picks up his cup of hot chocolate. It’s still steaming, somehow. “I-they were thinking it was- it’s too risky to leave a bridging point open like that. They want to… demolish it.” 

Gordon chuckles, and then it becomes a full body laugh, and then he’s curling up on himself, the empty cup between his hands. He shouldn’t clutch it like this, it might break. He’s broken the handle off of a mug before, when one of his old prosthetic wasn’t calibrated perfectly. He can’t stop laughing though. Not enough to let go of the cup now. 

“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “holy motherfucking shit. We’re doing it. We’re doing it? Xen’s fucking going down.” 

“It sure is!” Tommy says, and claps a polite golf clap for Gordon’s victory.

---

Gordon does have shit he needs to do for the online classes he teaches, but outside of it he’s still way too idle. He and Joshua go to the aquarium and the museum whenever the schedule works out, and once in a while they drive by Roswell to catch a plane taking off into the sky, and he does grocery runs and tries to clean around the house and do laundry on a timetable, and there’s always the PS3 Benrey dragged back that’s now public good, as well as his probably too long Steam list, but. Gordon’s shit at talking himself into and out of doing things. Sometimes it just doesn’t feel right to start doing something, so there’s a black hole of time between him thinking “I should get to this” and him actually doing it. And Joshua’s life isn’t just him; his son’s going to school now, and he’s made friends at school, and he talks to them on the phone and goes hang out with them on weekend afternoons.

Gordon’s not as good at holding onto time anymore, now that things’ve. Changed. 

So figuring the explosives out’s been good for him. It’s just what he does back in uni again, except without a supervisor, without having to write anything down properly (just legibly’s enough), and without peer review. It’s mostly math, but with the spirit of two middle schoolers stealing sodium crumbs from the school lab to throw into puddles. It’s closer to play than he expected. Closer than playing Horse Simulator 3D on the PS3. 

He and Darnold spend the day building the corrosion rate equation, pouring Darnold’s concoction on rocks Gordon figures have the same make-up as the ground on Xen. Benrey doesn’t bring the venture up often, but every other day Gordon finds clumps of dirt and random rocks that weigh suspiciously little for their size in his glove compartment. He brings those in for the pour test as well, and they build a simulation based on them. 

Balancing the corrosion with the heat’s a bit tricky; Gordon needs to know how hot Bubby’s ignition can go, since their number’s high. He was about to shoot Bubby a call when Coomer’s latest photo arrived. Gordon recognized the street in it. 

They put the project on hold for an afternoon so Tommy and Darnold can have the lab to decontaminate Coomer and Bubby. Gordon spends that afternoon getting the air fryer he ordered last week out of the box while Benrey reads the manual out loud wrongly. He calls Joshua to let him know they’re having guests over that evening, thankfully in the middle of the school recess this time. Gordon tries to remember Joshua’s exact timetable at school, he really does. It’s just not fruitful a task.

When Joshua arrives home, Gordon’s in the middle of arguing with Bubby over how much water’s left in air fried food. “Hey Granpa! Hey Bubby!” Joshua waves at Coomer and Bubby, “hey Uncle Tommy! Hey Doctor Darnold! Hey Benrey! Hey Dad!” 

Gordon steals the chance to close the air fryer while Bubby’s joining in with the “Hey Joshua!” chorus and distracted. “We’re making spring rolls and egg rolls!” He calls after Joshua, who’s in his room putting his backpack away. “You can choose the filling yourself!” 

The kitchen barely fits everyone, so comes dinnertime they move the living room table up next to the TV cabinet to make space for the spare straw mat, and lay out a tablecloth on top for good measure (Gordon’s had enough experience to remember to do that). They sit on the floor in the living room together, almost shoulder to shoulder, and at some point the conversation gets away from Gordon entirely. He just nods when Joshua points at something he wants and gets some in the bowl for him. 

“I’ve heard somebody wants to become an astronaut,” He hears Coomer say at one point. 

Joshua puffs out his chest proudly. 

“Doesn’t everybody at some point,” Bubby says. “I wanted to be an astronaut too, when I was forty.”

“Oh I have seen the photos,” Coomer continues, a gentle light in his eyes, “It is very beautiful out there.” 

Joshua asks for help with his homework after dinner, and Tommy and Darnold sit down with him for that. Benrey joins Gordon at the sink while he’s pouring dish soap into one of the large bowls they used. He doesn’t know what to do but blink at him, dumbfounded. 

“Check this out,” Benrey says, and spits lime green into the sink. When the light clears, the dishes have become spotless. 

Gordon stares at the sink. “I- you- th- is that- you can do that? ” He points at the plates. leaning on the sink’s edge. 

Benrey grins. “New… new skill acquired bro. Just got the EXP for it.” 

“You spent your EXP on dish cleaning ?” 

“We should conserve water, Gordon!” Coomer declares from behind him next to the kitchen table. “Water shortage is caused by corporate greed, but with certain individual actions we can improve the situation ourselves!” 

“Please don’t kill Mark Schneider.” 

“Worry not, Doctor Freeman! His death will not be by my hand directly!” 

Gordon laughs, helplessly. “Everything happens so much,” he laments, only semi-jokingly, as he takes off the cleaning gloves and puts the plates on the rack. 

“Keep up, Doctor Freeman,” Bubby says. 

“They certainly do,” Coomer says, much more nicely. “I’ve heard your plan is soon coming to fruition!” 

Gordon nods. “Yeah, it’s. Yeah. We were,” he swallows, “Darnold and I, we were about to ask for Bubby to let us test his fire. Figure out if he can reach the ignition point we need.” 

“Well now, that sounds like a challenge,” Bubby says. 

Gordon finds a price tag still stuck on one of the bowls that he’s very sure wasn’t there when it was brought out. “Benrey,” he groans. Benrey just gives him a shit eating grin. “You’ll need to hold a temperature for about three minutes, and then the mixture takes care of the rest,” he says to Bubby, while swatting Benrey on the shoulder. 

“Just three minutes, isn’t it.” 

“Do not try and stay for more. I’m serious. When it explodes it’s gonna turn seriously corrosive. You’re gonna be sludge ten seconds after it gets on you.” 

Gordon can hear Bubby blink. “Oh- oh. This is serious huh. We are blowing Xen up.” 

“We are, darling,” Coomer affirms. 

Bubby shifts on his chair. “I’ll need. A minute.” 

When Gordon’s done with the dishes, he turns back to the kitchen table to catch Bubby letting go of Coomer after a hug. “Son of a bitch, you went for it, you motherfucker,” Bubby says, a bit too loudly, fixing his glasses. 

Benrey sings a very high note over his voice. “Language!” Gordon hisses. 

“Oh, sorry.” Bubby pats his own mouth. “Forgive a man, I’m still working through it.” He switches to a mumble, seemingly only to himself. “It’s real. I’m gonna set Xen on fire. Gonna show Black Mesa what for. It’s really gonna happen…”

Coomer pats Bubby on the back lightly, making him almost hit his face on the table. “We’ll finally move fully away from the game, my dear Professor,” he says, and he’s smiling. He’s smiling very wide. 

“I can be your Professor,” Bubby mumbles. “I can blow Xen up.” 

“ We can blow Xen up,” Gordon corrects him. “Me and Darnold didn’t agonize over a- darn modifier for a week and a half so you can set our work on fire and take all the credits.” 

“Hush, let me process things, you rude bastard.” Benrey censors bastard with another burst of pinkish light.

“I can see the other end,” Coomer says, cheerfully. “Now, Gordon, I’ve heard you need help digging into the core of a few asteroids?” 

---

They mark a date for the excursion. 

He ‘woke up’ early, and made himself and Joshua an actual breakfast for a change while Benrey finished off the box of cereal that was open. “Dad’s got a work thing coming up,” he told Joshua while scooping extra egg onto his plate. “I’m gonna have to stay on site for a night.” 

“So you’re not going home tonight?” Joshua asked, taking the plate handed to him by Gordon, but making no move to go back to his chair. 

Gordon nodded. “I’ll be home tomorrow though, but you’re gonna have to stay at your grandparents’ tonight. I’m gonna come pick you up at their place tomorrow afternoon. You should pack a spare change of clothes and your pajamas to bring to school.” 

“Okay,” Joshua said. And then, “What’re you staying on-site for?” 

“I’m,” Gordon said, “Okay, you can’t tell anyone this, yeah? I’m blowing asteroids up.” 

He could see Joshua’s eyes brighten. It was visible . “ In space ?” 

“Yes,” Gordon laughed. “But it’s very experimental, which means…” 

“It’s not ready for the public eye yet,” Joshua whispered, almost reverently.

Gordon laughed again, and took off the mitten on his hand to ruffle Joshua’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay staying at your grandparents’ place? If you don’t like that I can ask someone else to come over instead.” 

“It’s okay,” Joshua said, finally content to go sit down again. “Can I bring my skate shoes?” 

“Sure thing, put them in a bag.” 

Gordon called Joshua’s grandparents to let them know to pick him up at five (Joshua chimed in to ask them to remind him about the roller skates), and then Joshua got his backpack and spare clothes and bag for the shoes and the house was once again vacant. 

They don’t have a vehicle, but Tommy sings and Bubby joins in and Darnold keeps a beat and after a while Benrey starts playing songs out of the shitty speaker on his phone. Gordon’s even spent the day before sleepless, but that’s kind of everyday now. He hadn’t anticipated having to get used to a day having twenty four hours again, but well. He hadn’t anticipated anything while going through Black Mesa, really. It wasn’t really ideal thinking-far-ahead environment.

Benrey seems bouncier when he’s on Xen. Gordon didn’t think about it, but when he steps through the portal he has a flash of that image from what feels like a lifetime ago: Benrey giant as the Earth itself, blocking everything else in sight, his form longing to catch up with his already immense, oppressive presence. Taller than any walls, any mountains, any barriers between himself and a measly human’s fleeting existence.

Gordon shakes his head. At his least incomprehensible, Benrey’s said it was “a show”. “Like. Cable TV. A television series,” Gordon’s asked. 

“Like a cutscene,” Benrey’s replied, as if Gordon was the one too slow for the course. 

Benrey now felt nothing like whatever that was that happened to him and the Science Team last year. Benrey now felt just… like a dude. Doing a barrel roll, while saying “Ooooo barrel roll” with a straight face. While his Nokia 2700’s still crushing whatever song it’s playing into oblivion. 

Gordon doesn’t deal in implications anymore, so he starts singing along to whatever everyone else’s singing as well, and focuses on carrying their homemade Xen-specific dynamite blocks to where they’re going to dig their largest hole into the core of this wretched piece of rock.

It takes a day, kind of; he doesn’t sleep, out here in the thin atmosphere of Xen, where the stars don’t blink and red light comes in a hue from inside the dirt. He doesn’t have to force himself to go lay down at midnight like back home, he just sits down, at the edge of the portal, when the explosives have all been installed, and watch Coomer and Bubby ready themselves.

They can hear Bubby’s cackles ringing in Xen’s air and also in their comms, as he lays in Coomer’s arms and they race the fire, starting from the outer ring of asteroids to the main Xen island. They jump from rock to rock, red light trailing after them while the dirt itself breaks apart, not with a boom, but with the sound of bubbles breaking after a wave crashes on the shore. Xen glows brighter than it probably ever has, in its disintegration. 

Benrey sings a few vacant notes, standing on nothingness; the light from his mouth blends in almost perfectly with Xen’s dying light. 

“You got all of your belongings outta there?” Gordon asks, half as a jab, half serious. “Didn’t leave anything important in your old apartment?” 

Benrey doesn’t answer, for a moment. When he does, it’s just to mumble, “oh look, there’s fireworks.” 

---

They got home early from it. 

Gordon takes a nap on the couch; he only wakes up from Benrey turning the sound up to max and then shooting a rocket at a truck in Far Cry 3. “Dude,” he throws an arm up over his face, and winces when it’s the plastic arm. “What the fuck.” 

“Go pick Joshua up,” Benrey says, definitely too conversationally, and barely understandable under the noises from the game. “Gordon. Sleepman.” 

“You’re slipping,” Gordon comments as he wrestles himself out of Tommy’s quilt. He forgot to give it back to Tommy, he realizes sleepily, picking up the phone he left charging on the living room table. It’s seven already. 

The drive to Joshua’s grandparents’ place is not a long one. He finds Joshua sitting at the porch of the little house, backpack and the bag with the roller skates at his feet. Joshua jumps up at the sight of Gordon’s car, and before he can walk through the gate he’s already found his arms full of his son. 

Joshua clings to his neck with a death grip. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Gordon says. “I was tired, so I took a nap, and forgot the time.” 

“It’s okay,” Joshua mumbles, “you were tired.” 

“I blew up so many asteroids though.” Gordon says, and Joshua laughs. 

They drive home after saying goodbye to Joshua’s grandparents (Joshua’s grandpa put a wrapped up pot pie in Gordon’s hands with an iron grip and a gaze that communicated clearly what would happen if he refused it), and Joshua agreed to take a detour to the Roswell airport for the night. Gordon absentmindedly texts Benrey taking the kid to watch airplanes, get your own food , and puts his phone away for the drive. The radio’s on, but Joshua doesn’t sing along. Gordon’s vocal cord’s still tired from Xen (no more, Xen-no-more it is, there’s just a vast of empty space inbetween dimensions there now) so he also stays silent. 

They get ice cream at a drive-thru on the way, and then they’re at the highway, parking on the roadside, looking over the rail at the airport. A plane leaves the ground there and goes into the air. Gordon’s struck by how different it is from a bird or a moth; nothing about the plane communicates any internal movement, it just. Moves. Up and up. Like a JPEG sliding across the screen under someone’s puppeteering with a mouse. 

Joshua stares at the plane, unblinking. “Is it dangerous in space, Dad?” He asks. 

Gordon taps his hand on the steering wheel. “It’s.” He starts saying, but stops to clear his throat. “It can be. There’s a lot of math going into making things that bring a human into space, and a lot of different people doing different parts of that math, and. Sometimes some people do their math wrong. Sometimes they try something new, and we don’t have the good math for that new thing yet. Sometimes new things break into the old math, and we need to. Work around that new thing.” 

“What happens if,” Joshua swallows, “someone does the math wrong?” 

“We try to catch it,” Gordon says. “That’s why there are so many people doing the math. So if someone gives the wrong answer, they can spot it early, and fix it.” 

“What if nobody does,” Joshua says. He’s still looking through the car’s window, at the stroke of cloud the plane’s long flown past. 

Gordon puts his hands on the gear stick. “That’s very, very rare to happen,” he intones carefully. “They have to check, over and over, before they send a ship into space.” 

Joshua turns from the window to Gordon. He looks at Gordon’s prosthetic hand, on the gear stick. “I’ve only found books about spaceships that have gone to space,” he says, quiet. 

Gordon turns over, and holds out that hand. Joshua climbs over the gear stick to give him another hug. “Experiments are important to those ships too,” Gordon says. “They give the people who make the ships important information to make them safe.” 

Joshua just buries himself in Gordon’s arms. 

“I’m really sorry I came home late and didn’t call you, Joshua,” Gordon says, and hugs his son tighter. “I won’t do that again. I’ll always call when I’m home late.” 

“I don’t have to be an astronaut,” Joshua mumbles. 

“Oh, no- nononono, listen,” Gordon says into his hair, with all the determination he can muster up. “Listen, Joshua, you become whoever you want to, okay? You don’t have to be anything, but you don’t have to not be anything either. That’s my mistake, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re good. You’re good. You’ll be an incredible astronaut. You’ll be the first man on Mars. Jupiter, even.” 

“Jupiter is a gas giant,” Joshua mumbles. “There isn't any land to land on.”

Gordon nods. “That’s why it’s called landing , I get it.”

---

They drive home after, and Joshua asks to sit with Gordon while he and Benrey play Mario Kart. Gordon agrees, which means he has to clamp down on any curse he almost lets out when someone bumps him off the damn road, while Benrey does some magic or whatever on his screen. Who the hell knows. 

After their third match, Benrey elbows Gordon in the arm to signify a break. “Beddy bye hour,” he says, not even looking at Gordon, “for… babies. Hattrick means I make the rules.” 

“You didn’t come first in the second match,” Gordon argues, but quiets down when he looks down to see Joshua asleep leaning on him. “Okay, don’t fucking choose Toon Link for me again while I’m away,” he points a finger at Benrey, who’s residing smugly in the to-be-chaos of his own making. “I’m fucking serious.”

He carries Joshua to his bedroom and tucks him in, and then detours to the kitchen for some water. 

“Ooh, hydration,” Benrey comments idly. 

“What d’you know about it,” Gordon mumbles when he settles back down on the couch. He looks at the TV screen to find Inkling on one of the shitty bikes. “What the hell man, this bike sucks ass. Fucking Shit Taste McGee over here.” 

Benrey laughs. 

Gordon plays the game, while thinking about the sendoff party they’re throwing for Bubby and Coomer next week, before the grandpas go off gallivanting in yet another forbidden corner of the Earth. Coomer lovingly calls it their “honeymoon”, but Gordon has full faith this is gonna be what they do forever. Or at least until they’re bored of Earth, and start aiming for the Moon instead. Probably not a bad place to be in. 

“Thinking Xen thoughts, aren’t’cha,” Benrey says, while sending a shell after some poor computer character. 

Gordon grins. “Ha! Sike! I’m not even thinking about Xen.” He pauses, catching the full force of a fireball a Mario shoots at him. “I haven’t thought about Xen at all actually. Since I got home with Joshua.” 

“Achievement unlocked,” Benrey says, and extends a hand. Gordon stares at it. 

“Wh- huh?” 

“High five, idiot.”

“Oh,” Gordon says, and slaps that hand. Benrey’s eyes widen at the noise. 

“Yo that’s a. Crunchy noise.” He claps his hands together, and he’s laughing now, light flowing out in a thread of something like baby blue. “This rules,” he says happily. 

Gordon smiles, and then some motherfucker flings a shell at him, so he falls off the road again. 

He stays up way too late again, and time doesn’t stop slipping, and when Darnold gives him a vial of neutralizer for the Potion of Not Telling at their little party the week after it gives him something like mania and he hugs Coomer like an idiot while the old man slaps his back in a motion that’s supposed to be comforting. He sleeps that off as well afterwards, and wakes up to Tommy surfing the channels on his TV, complaining about lack of daytime talk shows. When he forgets about the scheduled blackout a month after, he still calls the concierge with shaking hands and then climbs into his bed like he’s four again and there’s a storm outside. He still thinks about Black Mesa, and about Xen. 

There’s just a little addendum now, that he can remind myself of. 

It’s weird how quickly it blends into everything else, but. Well. It’s weird everything . 

He makes cookies again, comes the winter, and teaches himself how to decorate cookies, just to have something to do. Joshua throws his pencil onto the notebook one day to go dig out the lumpy, supposedly-ISS-shaped cookie cutters from the tool cabinet. 

“Careful,” Gordon calls after him. 

Joshua toddles back with the cookie cutters in hand. “Can we have ISS cookies?” He asks. 

Gordon says yes. He also looks up a buncha references, prints them out, and tries to get the cookies exactly correct, making two “outside” cookies and an “inside” one, with schematics of the inner chambers of the ISS drawn on. Joshua loves it. 

“Here’s where the astronauts sleep,” He points at the spot that’s supposed to be the service module, and Gordon’s proud of getting that part right on the cookie.

He ruffles Joshua’s hair again. “Hey, maybe you’ll sleep there in twenty years,” he says, and marvels at the levity to that sentence. Just a little bit. It’s washed away with Joshua’s smile, and then they busy themselves with folding bags for the cookies instead.

[calpalirwin]

Somebody to You

Summary: Nothing like a roadtrip to a wedding to make Zyla feel extra sappy about her own husband.

A/N: Sort of in collab with @baldcalum​ @cxddlyash​ and @talkfastromance4​. Thanks for letting me pester you with questions/bounce ideas off of you!

Content: All the soft.

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

__

“My mother warned me about stranger danger, but she never warned me about what to do when the man with the van is your husband,” I joked as I carefully hung up the garment bags in the empty back.

“You could’ve flown with them,” Ashton told me as he started to load up everything we needed. “I drew the short straw, not you.”

I leaned against the van, admiring how his muscles flexed with his movements. God, the fact that this man was my husband still totally blew my mind nearly a year after the fact. “You didn’t draw the short straw. You offered. And we’re a team now, in case you forgot.”

“How could I ever forget the best day of my life?”

I laughed. A sassy retort was on my lips but my phone rang cutting me off. “Hey, Kai,” I answered, barely needing to glance at the caller ID to know who it was.

“Have you talked with everyone about their flight?” her panicked voice asked.

“Yes,” I spoke into the phone. “Their flight leaves later. They’ll get there probably at the same time Ashton and I do.”

“And are you leaving soon?” Kai asked and I could hear the clicking of my friend’s heels as she paced back and forth.

“Yes,” I assured her. “And take a breath. Relax. We’ll probably beat the GPS. You know Ash drives like a madman.”

“I do not,” Ashton piped up at the same time Kai groaned, “If he gets you both killed on the drive out here, I will bring you back from the dead to kill you both myself!”

“So, I get to die twice for something I didn’t do? That hardly seems fair…”

“You married him!”

“Damn right I did,” I smirked before I used my free hand to smack at my husband’s ass as he loaded the last bit of our things into the van for the trip.

“Hey!” Ashton yelped in surprise before turning towards me, his hazel eyes dancing, a seductive smirk beginning to grace his lips, and his dimple making its debut. “I’m supposed to do that to you.”

I snapped my teeth playfully at the man. “Alright, we’re about to hit the road. I’ll keep you updated on where we are, okay?” I told Kai, doing what I could to calm her overworking mind. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” I asked Ashton.

“No!” both him and Kai answered way too quickly.

“Cuss out a guy one time and they never let you live it down,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Just hurry,” Kai whined. “But not fast. Just regular speed, ASHTON!”

“Yes, Mrs. Hood!” Ashton answered, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice so the woman on the other end of the phone could hear him.

“He’s lucky he’s married to my best friend otherwise I would have killed him already…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with an eye roll. How such a low-strung woman as myself was best friend’s with a high-strung type like Kai was beyond me sometimes. I supposed it really was about balance. “Just take a few deep breaths. Set that future husband of yours to good use. And I’ll be there before you know it.”

“And Britt and Holly!” Kai added with a sense of urgency.

“Shit, did I remind Mikey to confirm the rooms?” I wondered out loud with a playful tone.

“Zy!”

I laughed, “Would you relax? I was teasing!” Then, I mouthed at Ashton in case I had actually forgotten for him to “Text Mikey about the rooms!”

“I hate you…”

“No you don’t,” I chirped.

“Kai, if you don’t let my wife off the phone, we’re going to be late!” Ashton said as he quickly typed on his phone.

“She can talk on the phone while you drive!”

“Not if you want us to live!”

I rolled my eyes more. “I’ll text you from the road. And you,” I said, turning my attention from my phone to Ashton. “Did you poop?”

“Did I po- Fuck. Be right back.”

“You seriously need to stop drinking an entire pot of coffee by yourself…”

“Well if someone drank it with me…”

“Just make less! It’s not that hard!”

“You leave me and my coffee addiction alone!”

“Go poop!”

~~~

“That’ll be five dollars,” the bartender told me.

“For a water?” I asked incredulously, pulling out my wallet anyway. “This is why I don’t go out…” I continued to grumble as I started to hand my card over. Whatever Kai had planned that required me to be in a dress and heels instead of on my couch in sweats and an oversized shirt had better be good. Where the hell was she anyway?

“Put it on my tab. I got it, sweetheart,” a deep and smooth voice from behind me said before a large hand was pulling mine away from paying.

“I can buy my own water, but thank you,” I answered, turning to eye the friendly stranger. And I immediately had to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. His brown hair was perfectly slicked back except for this one stubborn piece that curled between a stunning set of honey gold eyes. A leather jacket hugged his strong shoulders and the buttons on his shirt were undone to a dangerously low level. I struggled to keep my eyes from traveling further down his body, turning my attention to the hand that was now extended to me in greeting. I shook it, noting the damage to his fingers. A drummer if I had to guess. Fuck. I loved drummers.

“Oh I’m not doubting that. But anyone who buys water at a club immediately has my respect. I’m Ashton by the way,” he was saying when I finally refocused.

“Zyla,” I introduced, giving him my award-winning smile.

“I believe this is yours, Zyla,” Ashton said, handing me the water bottle, and I had to hold back the school-girl like giggle bubbling up in my throat at the way my name sounded rolling off his lips and the way his fingers brushed against my hand.

~~~

“Whatcha thinking about?” Ashton’s voice asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Thinking about how we met actually,” I answered honestly, smiling softly at him.

“You looked hot that night,” Ashton recalled, taking one hand off the steering wheel to interlace his fingers with mine.

I laughed, my cheeks turning red. “I was not.”

Ashton scoffed as he raised his hand that was holding mine to brush his lips against my knuckles. “The hottest.”

“Hotter than our wedding day?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Yes.”

I scoffed and swatted his chest. “Wrong answer, Ash.”

“You didn’t let me finish!” he giggled. “You were fucking stunning on our wedding day.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!”

“Any regrets?”

“With you? Never. You know why?” I asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“All I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!” I sang along with the music blasting lightly through the speakers.

“Everybody’s tryin’ to be a billionaire! But every time I look at you I just don’t care!” he joined in.

“Cause all I wanna be, yeah all I ever wanna be, yeah, yeah is somebody to you!”

~~~

“So what’s your connection to the music industry?” Ashton asked, his attention fully on me.

“Oh, I’m this one’s photographer,” I answered, wrapping my arm around Kai’s shoulders. This was their conversation. Their collaboration meeting. What the fuck was Kai thinking inviting me out? Something in the way Ashton kept trying to get me involved in the conversation made me think I had my answer.

“Oh, she’s fuckin’ fantastic. Top of her game,” Kai bragged, and I knew I had my answer.

“I’m alright,” I shrugged. “It’s just about passion.”

“Oh, modest are we? Mind if I look at your work sometime? See who’s assessment is more correct?” Ashton inquired.

“That sounds suspiciously like you’re asking me on a date, sir,” I told him, leaning forward across the table. If he was baiting, I was biting. I’d be a damn fool not to. And Kai knew it, the fucking sneak she was. I made a mental note to both thank and throttle her for this later.

“And if I was?” he asked, leaning forward himself so our faces were inches apart.

~~~

“Yes, they got on the flight.”

“And Ash has the instruments?”

“Yes, we have everything.”

“You remembered his suit and your dress? And your heels? I swear if you wear flats… or gods forbid… sne-snea- Ugh! I can’t even say the word!”

I rolled my eyes at her antics. Since when was comfort a crime? “Yes, Kai. I remembered it all. Relax.”

“Wait! How are you going to take the pictures if you’re in them?! You’ve always taken my pictures! Oh my, God!”

“You know I have a team, right? Like I run a business. I have employees.”

“But they’re not you!”

“I don’t hire amateurs, Kai. And you will get final say before anything goes to print. Now, breathe!” I left out the part that of course I had brought my own camera equipment for the spur of the moment inspiration, because she knew I never traveled without my gear.

“How far have you guys gotten?”

“Halfway give or take.”

“It’s a 6 hour drive, and you left at 8 this morning. It’s almost 1!”

“Well, we can’t just drive for 6 hours straight. We gotta stop for food and pee breaks.”

“You mean coffee and poop breaks?”

“Same thing,” I laughed as Ashton walked out of the gas station with two bottles of water and a huge bag of Cheez-Its. I let out an excited gasp as I reached for the bag. “Yes! I love you!” I cheered.

“I love you too. Now hurry up!”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Kai. But yes. We’ll be there soon. If someone can stop pooping every fifty miles.”

“I wouldn’t have to drink so much coffee if someone helped me drink it. Or offered to drive…” Ashton teased.

“You wouldn’t let me drive,” I reminded him, opening the bag and swallowing a handful of cheesy cracker goodness.

“That's because you get mad road rage, miss.”

“That’s ma’am to you, sir,” I laughed. “I’m a married woman.”

“Are you ever gonna get tired of saying that?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face.

“Fuck no!” I laughed more, reaching up on tiptoe to peck his lips with mine. “Husband, husband, husband.”

“Wife, wife, wife,” he replied, kissing me after each word.

~~~

“You ever think about getting married?” Ashton asked.

“Like in general? Or to you?” I asked, my senses perking into high alert mode.

“Both?”

I shrugged. “Little scary isn’t it? I mean, every relationship runs the risk of those involved waking up one day and suddenly this isn’t what they want anymore. So to divorce in the midst of heartbreak… well… I guess it would depend on how I felt the person asking me to decide if that was a risk I was willing to take.”

“And if I asked?”

“I’d say call Andy and Ryan to make sure there’s photos and video of me saying yes.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice full of amazement and hope.

“Of all the things I want to be in life, yours is easily at the top of that list.”

~~~

“Fuck, this view is gorgeous,” I marveled as we leaned against the van.

“Yeah it is,” he smiled, his eyes on me.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I meant this view,” I said, gesturing out the window to the winter wonderland spread out before us. Kai may be over the top, but the girl had mad style, no question about it.

“I know what you meant,” he told me, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the side of my head. “And out of all the views I’ve seen and will go on to see, none of them matter if you’re not in them.”

~~~

“So, what’s the big secret?” Kai asked, once I had gathered all my girlfriends together.

I answered by sticking out my left hand, letting them decipher the news for themselves.

“Ohmigod!” Britt and Holly screeched in excitement. Britt grabbed my hand to get a closer look while Holly jumped in circles starting rattling off wedding ideas.

I looked at Kai who stared back with a blank expression. “Well?” I prompted.

“I thought you hated the idea of marriage,” was the response, void of any real emotion except genuine confusion. Of all our differences, that had been our one similarity- besides a love of pretzels and an aversion to drinking. While we weren’t necessarily anti-romance, marriage just wasn’t something that had been on our radars. And now for me to be engaged before Britt or Holly, well, it was definitely a shock to the system. I still couldn’t quite believe it myself. The weight on my finger was both surreal and not the least bit heavy.

“I do! I did… I… I dunno.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Duh!”

“Do you make him happy?”

“I would hope so.”

“Does he love you?”

“Again, I certainly hope so.”

“Do you love him?”

“So fuckin much.”

“Am I maid of honor?”

“Please?”

“Congrats, Zy,” Kai smiled.

~~~

“Kai Theodora Zaher,” Calum spoke, pausing to clear away the thickness in his throat. “You were perfect from the first moment I met you. More than perfect. And while I would never ask you to change anything about you, one thing has always bothered me. Your last name not being mine. Thank you, not only for turning my world on its head, but allowing me to make you Kai Theodora Zaher Hood. I love you, wildflower.”

Kai’s hand gripped my fingers tightly as she held back the squeak and the rest of us choked down our tears. Funny how cynics usually had the softest hearts.

I looked over at Ashton who stood directly across from me besides Calum. If I was closer, the heels on my feet would bring me to the perfect height for me to tuck my head under his chin without me needing to strain up or him needing to slump down. He looked so good in his suit with his hair slicked back for the occasion. And I knew I looked like a bombshell in my own floor-length gown that hugged my small curves in the most perfect of ways. Kai had really outdone herself with this winter wonderland she had created. Every detail no matter how small was absolutely perfect. Ashton’s eyes met mine and his lips moved to mouth “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I mouthed back, before letting my mind take me back only earlier this year when it had been him and I in Calum and Kai’s places and them in ours.

~~~

“I promise to always buy you overpriced bottles of water.”

“I promise to chase the risk that is my life with you.”

“I promise to make that risk worth it.”

“I promise to always be your somebody.”

~~~

“This year has definitely been one for the books, hasn’t it, Kai? See, I dunno if you all know this, but it’s always been Kai and I. Kai and Zy. Zy and Kai. The opposites glued at the hips. Never one without the other,” I paused to squeeze my best friend’s shoulder before I went on with my speech. “All my years with her have been filled with their adventures. But this year? Well, this year started with a wedding. And it’s befitting it ends with one too. Because, you see, Kai and I, for getting married first,” I paused again to smirk over at Luke and Mike who squirmed in their seats under my gaze, “never really bought into the marriage idea. Romance, sure. But marriage was always too messy. And then! Oh, boy, and then these two came right out of left field and messed that right up.” I moved my hand that was squeezing Kai’s shoulder to rest on Calum’s. “Calum, my dear sweet friend, thank you for proving to my best friend what your best friend proved to me. Because while I may not believe in marriage, I believe in mine, and I believe in yours. Best years to you both. I love you.”

I kissed both of their cheeks before handing the microphone to Ashton as he held my chair out for me to take my seat. “Well,” Ashton spoke around the lump in his throat, taking a small moment to clear it. “You’d think that my days as a musician would have prepared me for the opening act completely outdoing the headliner…”

I stuck my tongue out at him and he grinned at me.

“If someone had asked me that the first wedding I give a best man speech at would be Calum’s, I probably would have laughed. That’s how wild this all is. Kai, thank you for flipping his world upside down. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier than when he’s with you. And we all know how much he loves his bass, so mad props to you, darling. Cal? Don’t fuck this up, mate.”

~~~

“Good morning, Mrs. Irwin!” Ashton said brightly, waking me up with the kisses he was covering my body with. “How do you feel, Mrs. Irwin?” he grinned when his lips found mine.

“Like I’m on top of the world,” I grinned back.

“Adjusting to that weight on your finger okay?”

“Feels surprisingly light. Like I always meant to wear it.”

“Mmm, that’s probably cuz you were.”

“You really think that? That I was always meant to be your wife?”

“I think you were always meant to be the greatest somebody to me. I just got lucky that somebody was my wife.”

“You’re such a sap,” I laughed, feeling myself tear up at his sentiment.

“Your sap.”

“My sap.”

~~~

“What is it about weddings that makes me want to get married?” Ashton asked as he twirled me in a circle before pulling me against his chest.

“We’re already married,” I pointed out.

“And I want to marry you every day for the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll marry you every time.”

__

Tag List

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[uppercuts-and-undercuts]

Fight Me?

So... I wrote this a while ago, and forgot to post it here, because I’m a fool. It’s my first Kingsman piece, but I’m determined to do more at some point. Check it out, let me know what you think. ;)

*****

Eggsy ends up in hospital after breaking his leg in a parkour accident. His handsome doctor leaves him almost speechless.

Inspired by a tumblr post.

Eggsy was floating. Or maybe flying. Whichever it was, he was fucking loving it. His skin tingled, and he squirmed in the hospital bed he'd been settled on. Hospitals were shite, but he really couldn't bring himself to care all that much, since they had him on some bloody good drugs. That was a very good thing in his mind, considering that he was in for a broken leg. It wasn't the first parkour-related injury he'd had, but it was probably the worst. It was definitely the most painful, until those merciful drugs kicked in.

He had been propped up against a small mound of pillows, but his wiggling had ragged them around until he ended up partially beneath them instead, his face and an arm poking out as he blinked dazedly at the ceiling. He heard a huff of laughter, and suddenly noticed that someone had arrived at his bedside.

Whatever the nurses had given him not only dulled the pain from his leg, but also made everything go a bit fuzzy. Except for the bloke standing by his bed. He looked like the only thing that was real in a dream. Where everything else was a little dulled and soft around the edges, he stood out perfectly. Eggsy noticed the shine of his brown hair, greying at the temples and looking infinitely touchable. He registered the finely tailored trousers, shirt, and waistcoat – and couldn't help but appreciate the fact that his sleeves were rolled up to the middle of his forearms.

He caught sight of a hospital ID declaring the man to be a doctor, finding it within him to be slightly annoyed that even in the picture on it the man didn't have to decency to follow the usual nutjob-mugshot curse. God knows Eggsy looked like a fucking criminal on his driving license.

He dragged his eyes up, honestly swooning a little at the guy's ridiculously long legs, trim waist, and broad shoulders. The doctor was aiming a frankly beautiful smile at him, warm brown eyes shining out from behind thick-framed glasses, and Eggsy quite honestly felt himself stop breathing as he unabashedly stared.

The doctor's smile grew a little wider, seeing he had Eggsy's full attention. “Hello, Mr. Unwin. I'm Doctor Harry Hart, pleased to meet you.”

Eggsy melted a little inside at the smooth sound of his voice, all posh and fully enunciating his consonants, but somehow still sounding warm and welcoming. He wanted to say something witty, or smooth, something that would show this handsome Harry Hart his personality. Instead, realising he was still holding his breath, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Fight me.” He wheezed.

Doctor Hart blinked, his eyebrow raising slightly. As Eggsy silently sent a prayer to the universe to kill him and save him from the embarrassment that was his fucking life, the doctor's smile grew even wider, flashing irritatingly perfect teeth in a helpless grin. He reached out and moved Eggsy's pillows, unearthing him from beneath them, and huffed out a laugh.

“Maybe later.”

Eggsy watched him walk away, struck dumb.

~~

The next time he saw Doctor Hart was when he came in to talk about his x-rays. He'd told him the break was a clean one, that he was lucky it wasn't a compound fracture, or something. Eggsy honestly wasn't listening, because he was too busy staring at the guy's stupid, handsome face.

Doctor Hart glanced up from his clipboard with a smile. “Do you have any questions for me?”

It was then Eggsy realised he'd been holding his breath again, like a total tit, when he sucked in a breath and started coughing. “Fight. Me.” He demanded through bone-rattling coughs.

His handsome doctor began patting his back to help ease his coughing, and Eggsy was treated to another laugh and grin.

“I won't fight you, because I know you'd win, and I'm a rather prideful old man, I'm afraid.”

As he recovered his breath, Eggsy thought grimly that this gorgeous bastard was ruining his bloody life without even realising.

~~

Some time later, Doctor Hart came to drop off some print-outs about broken bones, how best to help the healing process, and all that sort of rubbish that Eggsy would probably end up ignoring. He continued his routine of being completely tongue-tied as he told Eggsy he was free to leave the hospital, and was left to stare after the doctor's retreating figure with a wistful sigh. He absently scanned the print-outs in his hand, and noticed a small piece of paper stapled to the top page.

He could feel the biggest, dumbest smile ever crossing his face, and didn't give a shit how besotted and ridiculous he looked. Because he had a piece of paper with a phone number, and most importantly, a neat little note beneath it.

Fight me?

- H. Hart

[dogbearinggifts]

He Saw the Ghosts

Umbrella Academy

Author’s note: An AU in which the vet who accosts Klaus at the VFW bar is told to chill. 

“You see that?” 

Jim saw just about everyone who walked through those doors—which tended to be a small but devoted crowd, plus or minus a handful depending on the day of the week—but this one was hard to miss. He’d walked right through without a word of greeting, his mop of dark curls bobbing against the sea of white and grey. 

“Lookit him. Marching on in like he’s one of us.” 

“It’s not like Vietnam was the last war we fought.” Jim took a stab at the cue ball. His shot sent it crashing into the four which in turn sent the two across the table. “I’ve seen younger vets.” 

“Not here.”  

The kid had helped himself to the bar, sure, but he was a first. Most young folks preferred to flock with their own, flitting around the trendier bars downtown, the ones with names like Hawk and Hound or some word chosen by a blindfolded drunk man from a random page in the dictionary. Places that served pretentious drinks at pretentious prices, with little to offer besides an admittedly good—if overpriced—selection of craft beer. This kid should’ve headed to one of those, or else curled up at home with a bottle and whatever thoughts drove him to it. A VFW bar should’ve been the furthest destination from his mind. A memorial wall should have been out of the question. 

He almost didn’t see Mike start forward until he was three steps past, but instinct honed by years of familiarity with the man prevailed and Jim caught his shoulder. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“Like hell you will.” Mike tried to shrug the hand off, but Jim tightened his grip. Not enough to hurt, not enough to insult—just enough to let him know it wouldn’t be that simple. 

“If he’s pulling the same shit as that asshole at Outback,” Jim said, meeting Mike’s gaze, “you can handle him.” 

A few seconds passed, and Mike broke free with a turn back toward the pool table. He snatched up his cue with enough force to let Jim know he didn’t have long to sort out the truth, but until then he wouldn’t do much more than miss easy shots and grumble under his breath. He’d want Jim to march straight on over and make demands, but Jim moved with the slow reverence the wall’s solemnity demanded. 

The kid’s head was bowed, but that didn’t hide the tears, didn’t mask the heaves of his chest as the sobs came. Silent sobs, quiet tears, the sort of grief that didn’t call attention to itself as it devoured its host from within. Jim nearly placed a hand on his shoulder, but a glint of steel dangling against his shirt made him think better of it. 

“Somebody you know?” 

“Yeah.” He opened his eyes. Jim followed his gaze to what seemed to be the picture in question and his heart skipped a beat. 

The soldier had been a mystery long before Jim relocated to the city. He wasn’t the only one assumed MIA, not by a long shot, but he was the only one whose name remained missing. No draft card. No papers. No ID. Nothing to prove he’d ever served, nothing to prove he’d ever existed, save for a half-smiling face in an old photograph. 

A face mirrored by the young man standing before it now. 

Jim tamped down a dozen questions and any semblance of enthusiasm. This wasn’t a time for questions—not that kind, anyway. He nodded to the mystery man. “That him?” 

“Yeah.” 

The answer didn’t sit right. The photograph dated from 1968, and this kid couldn’t be older than thirty. He wasn’t old enough to have met the soldier, let alone to plow through a VFW bar to cry over his photograph. The stink of alcohol hung about him like cheap cologne, but of the many drunk men Jim had met, this was the first and only to sob over a stranger’s photograph in a bar patronized by veterans thirty to forty years his senior. It was a lie, the kid knew it was a lie, and Jim wouldn’t in a hundred years call him on it. 

A stick cracked against the cue ball, and pool balls clattered across the table. Mike swore, likely less at the outcome of his shot and more at the continued presence of an unwanted stranger. The kid closed his eyes as a fresh round of tears slipped down his cheeks. 

“You don’t have any other pictures of him?” 

He shook his head.  

“I can see about getting you a copy of that one, if you want.” 

It seemed to take a moment for the question to register, but when it did, he looked another long moment at the photograph before turning to Jim. And when he did, Jim saw the reason he’d come. 

He saw the ghosts. 

They were there in his eyes, of course, but they’d also made themselves at home in the lines on his face, settled on his shoulders to hold him lower than gravity alone. Jim couldn’t name them, not without knowing where he’d served, but he did not for a moment doubt this kid had served. The tears and photo, the dog tags and the tattoo partially covered by the sleeve of his shirt formed an image and the ghosts completed it. He’d been to hell, and hell had followed him home. 

“You….you could?” 

It wasn’t quite hope that had edged its way into his voice, but it made Jim’s chest ache. He hadn’t promised anything, hadn’t offered more than half a chance, but he might as well have offered the shirt off his back. 

“Picture’s fifty years old and a military record,” Jim admitted, “so there’s got to be some special procedure for getting a copy, if they can get one. But I’ve got friends over at City Archives, and they’ve got contacts. I’ll see what they can do.” 

Whatever had buoyed him up for those few seconds leaked out like air from a balloon, leaving his shoulders to sag. “Like they’d bother.” 

With some effort, Jim kept the pang from his voice. With more, he added a subtle note of false cheer. “Archivists are just librarians who hoard books instead of lending ‘em out,” he said, repeating a quip he’d heard from both parties. “You ever met a librarian?” 

“No.” 

“Bunch of sentimental bastards.” His mouth quirked at the saga he’d witnessed during his first few months of volunteer work, of the time and expense and calls to libraries in ten different states before one of them finally turned up a copy of a rare out-of-print novel, all so one old woman could reread a story she’d loved as a teenager. “If they can get you a copy, they’ll get you a copy.” 

Another crack, a louder one this time, accompanied by the sound of pool balls rolling across a felted table, filled the silence. 

“You want me to check?” 

After a moment’s consideration, the kid nodded. “Yeah.” His voice cracked. “I…I’d like that.” 

HIs fingers brushed the glass laid over the photograph, brushed the face of the man whose resemblance he bore. No—not him. The man beside him. Jim recalled his name, but at that moment, at the very moment when remembering it seemed most important, the name refused to surface. 

“Klaus?” 

The kid didn’t turn from the photo, but he let his hand fall. “Yeah?” 

Jim tensed as a young man clad in head-to-toe black started forward, calculating how many steps it would take to place himself between Klaus and the newcomer. But the newcomer’s movements were cautious and slow, absent a single trace of irritation or anything that might be taken for aggression, and Jim allowed himself to relax, allowed the newcomer to place a hand on Klaus’ shoulder. The resulting flinch was enough for Jim to see and probably enough for the newcomer to feel, but no more than that. 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” 

Klaus’ lips parted, then pressed together. His gaze lingered on the photograph a second longer before dropping to the floor. 

“I was just about to get his number before I talk to Archives about getting him a copy of that picture,” Jim said, nodding to the photo in question. 

The newcomer blinked as though Jim had spoken gibberish. He stared, opened his mouth for an apparent question, then closed it and shook his head, as if it was all too much to consider at once. “Fine. You got a pen?” 

The newcomer’s name was Diego—or at least, that was the name he’d scribbled beneath one number before taking the paper back and writing a second beneath it in smaller print. “Call that first one and ask for Klaus. Or me, I guess. If you can’t get anyone at the first number, hang up and try the second one.” 

Klaus was steady enough getting to the car, but Diego helped him into his seat anyway. A partially empty bottle of vodka was pushed to the floor, only to be retrieved with unsteady hands. Jim waited to see if he peered through the window to meet his gaze or simply seek him out, but for a long moment he stared at nothing but the floor. A breeze, chillier than usual for this time of year, made Jim long for the jacket he’d left inside. 

“You his brother?” 

Diego halted, turned around. The question had been a guess, but from the looks of things, that guess was correct. 

“Yeah. I’m his brother.” 

Jim cast another glance at Klaus in the front seat, head tipped back against the headrest, eyes closed. The face of the unnamed soldier broke into Jim’s mind again, imposed itself over the face of the man before him, but none of the questions the resemblance brought made Jim’s insides twist the way the sight of Klaus did. None of those questions were as important as the man who had caused them. 

“Take care of him, will you?” 

Diego looked at Klaus too, watching him through the window, seeing the weary anguish and the bottle in his hands. He let out a short sigh. 

“I’ll try.” 

They exchanged nods, and Diego climbed into the front seat and started the engine. Jim watched from the sidewalk as he pulled out onto the street, watched until the car rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. Even when it was long gone, he kept on watching. 

[musingsofazumbamind]

9 Tips for 9 Days Out: The Road to #zincon2019

Treat these 9 tips with a caveat of “if you want to”... these all have purpose for me but may not be the right “to do list” for you.

1. Do they know you’re leaving?

Tell or remind colleagues at work and your boss which days you will be gone

Call your bank and credit card companies, who may already know from your purchasing habits that you will be taking a trip but the clarity is important. You really did buy that costume including the bow and arrow set on the same day you bought a flight to Orlando.

Remind your significant other, children and dog that you will be going away for a few days and it’s important!

2. Fill a bunch of buckets now!

Give 200% in your classes, they are going to miss you while you are gone!

Remember and specifically pay into the Love Language of your significant other or most needy friend. Are they Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Quality Time, Physical Touch or Acts of Service? 

Get in the pool with the kids! Do the fancy box braids now! Try the science experiment that came as a gift for Christmas. Treat the kids as a priority before you prepare for ZinCon, especially if you are a parent who “never does this”.

3. Consider your transportation.

Flight, train, bus all set?

Need an app to get around Orlando, like Lyft or Uber? Download it now.

Take a look at who is helping you get from the airport to the hotel. I suggest Mike or Patrizio, they also take you to a grocery store before the hotel, their contact information is in the files of the Official ZinCon Group on Facebook. (Did you already join the official Zincon Facebook group?!?!)

Take a look at who is dropping you at the airport and bringing you back home, sore and exhausted. Consider how you might remind them gently now that they are doing this, and think of how you will thank them when the time comes.

Will your transportation accommodate you buying food at a grocery store, or will you buy fresh items from the Walgreens across the street or the Publix about a mile away?

4. This week is the time to print!

Tickets or itinerary for flight

Confirmation for the hotel or other fun you will be having in Orlando

When the registration email comes, print your barcode and session handouts

Make a copy of your ID or passport for the front pocket of your checked luggage, just in case it gets lost

Pre-Convention or Post-Convention party tickets

5. Let’s talk about our health…

Refill necessary prescriptions

Bringing your c-pap machine to sleep (or other necessary medical devices)? Replace the tubes and face mask cover now.

Something aching? Call your doctor or nurse on call to ask questions. Questions over the phone are free!

Make necessary appointments, especially if you need to make them for medicine refills

6. Make THE LIST and start packing. You will need at least one, large, functional and wheeled piece of luggage.

With printed #zincon itinerary in hand, treat each segment of the day as a reminder of what you will need. Each session, masterclass, training or party will need:

A dry outfit meant for movement (I have 9 segments not including Fitness Concert and Theme Party, so I pack 9 outfits and buy 1 outfit at the Zumbawear store)

Socks (if I pack this way for my particular schedule I end up having 10 pairs)

Underwear (if I pack this way for my particular schedule I end up with 12)

Appropriate shoes (I pack 2 different fitness shoes for session, 1 functional sandal/between sessions shoe, 1 nice but comfortable pair of dressy sandals for the afterparty

Accessories (i.e. soca sessions ask you to bring a bandana or flag; #jamjunkies like bringing highlighters to the sessions; Theme Night will need all the layers and fun items for your costume)

A way to carry small items, especially at the Fitness Concert where backpacks are not permitted. I use a hip belt for running that fits along my waistline. Some folks have a wrist pouch for just their room key. Or yes, invest in a fanny pack that you only use 1 night a year!

Having the play-by-play of what those 4-5 days will include will give you a sense of space in your luggage. You may want to leave room to purchase those daily outfits or shoes at Convention, especially if your costume (including a wig or wings or crossbow that takes up space) can be thrown out or left in the room. I always leave space for the one outfit I will buy and wear at Convention.

I know folks who hand wash some of their belongings and drip dry them at night to make room in their luggage. Maybe ask your roommates if they mind you doing this as it takes up space.

Leave room for what you know you need to purchase. Things like:

Souvenirs for your people and/or pets

Clothing or items from the Zumbawear store. Not just for yourself-- some folks might send you on a specific mission to buy what comes out that week! You may want to check the outlet store for giveaway items for folks in your classes. 

If you aren’t comfortable traveling with a certain something, just know it will cost at least 50% more in Florida. (I ALWAYS pack my sunscreen but some folks don’t like doing that for fear it might explode in flight. My favorite brand costs $24 in the hotel store, so it just makes sense to bring it for me.)

Many folks like ZJ Ria from Michigan and ZJ Court from Arizona pack each segment in its own gallon sized Ziploc bag and mark it with the day and session where it will be worn.

I always make my carry-on the “One Happy Day in Florida Bag”. It holds my small purse with a credit card, medicine, makeup, ID, a swimsuit, fitness shoes, socks, underwear, reading material and my phone and phone charger and I ALWAYS wear Zumbawear on the plane. It’s a conversation starter for sure! I feel like I could purchase, or have help from Home Office, for anything not packed in that bag.

7. Outside of your daily packing for Zincon itself, take a look at what you need to THRIVE. I pretend I’m living in my normal day for that.

Vitamins & meds

Water Bottle

Deodorant, light-smelling body spray, body wipes

Shampoo, conditioner, dry shampoo

Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss

Hair brush, comb

Flat iron, bobby pins

Makeup

Sunscreen, hat if you want more coverage from the sun

Fiber, tums, ibuprofen

Functional shoes like running sneakers or athletic sandals for wearing between sessions

Shoe inserts or toe separators, whatever brace your ankle needs while you sleep (if you use them, definitely keep using them at Convention!)

Backpack (if you use the one we all get in our free swag, be sure to label it very specifically as yours--bandana on the loop, giant tassels, loud key chains)

One sweatshirt or light jacket -- the OCCC is the coldest building in all of Florida, especially when you’re sweaty!

Notebook & pen or some other organizational system like your ipad or a binder and markers

Pajamas

Something from home to help you sleep. Melatonin? Your diffuser? A pic of your family? A stuffed animal? A symbol of your faith for stillness and meditation? Every day will be exhausting in the best way, and although your body will say “SLEEP” your brain may still be racing.

Swimsuit

Sunglasses

Chargers and devices, I especially like wearing a Fitbit at Convention but I have actually forgotten the charging brick. The step counts are insane! Get ready!

One non-athletic outfit. At some point a sundress or a t-shirt and shorts will feel really nice!

*Note* If you are heading to a club at any point, maybe the pre- or post-convention party, consider non-athletic wear especially where you feel confident and comfortable. Many clubs will not allow you in if you are wearing Zumbawear.

8. Consider all your plug items or devices. Ask yourself the following questions:

If I LOVE to take pictures, which device will do that and does it have the space for 1,000 pictures? If not, start deleting and backing up as necessary.

Do I need batteries for what I’m bringing and do I have those batteries? Think of your white noise machine, your electric toothbrush, your portable hair crimper…

Is this something I need to THRIVE for only 4-5 days of a fitness convention? 

Is a roommate already bringing something on this required list? Some roommates plan each “required” item--one friend brings the blender, one the K-cup coffee maker, one the mega box of K-cups and one the flat irons.

*Note* You can look online to see what your hotel includes. Some already have small coffee makers, hair dryers, a fridge, toiletries and irons.

9. And now, time to recover! Wait, what?

Convention is a whirlwind, a neon-filled Disney for the happiest and most passionate fitness instructors in the world. What will you need to start each day, end each night, with positive intentions?

Foam roller

Essential oils

Ice packs

Yoga mat

Emu oil, Biofreeze, Tiger Balm, Icy Hot or other topical creams

STRETCH now, especially your neck, and get it ready for looking upward at tall stages or getting “Apeshit” in the Beyonce session. Stretch each night at Zincon before bed and again in the morning if you can. There are also mindfulness or yoga opportunities in the mornings before sessions start--check your badge for the location.

ICE and be smart now, because whatever aches today will ache exponentially in Florida.

FINISH what’s hanging, like your Theme Night costume, the puzzle on your coffee table, the giant project for work or those haircuts for your kids. The less on that reality To Do List, the more open your brain will feel for Zincon.

REST and RESET now, as you can, because learning, loving, hugging, smiling, listening, moving and feeling all deplete your emotional and physical stores. But also, learning, loving, hugging, smiling, listening, moving and feeling will refill your quality of instruction and energy for the rest of the year. It’s absolutely worth it!!

See you soon, #zinmembers!!

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

DOTW 27 - Full

The flight to Paradis Beach was not without its dramas. A group of drunken alphas were refused entry on board the plane, causing a huge scene in the middle of Shinganshima airport. Then, one of them recognised Eren from his days as a stripper and started yelling out for a free dance and show, before beginning to abuse Levi for his height. It wasn't his fault he was short. Nor was it his fault that Eren was way taller than him. By the time they finally got on the plane, the flight was running a full hour behind schedule and Eren was a shaking mess. The effort the omega was going to, to keep it together, was evident to everyone around them, making them whisper and stare as they took their seats. Levi didn't understand why they couldn't have just kept their mouths shut, or why they'd gotten so fucking drunk and then thought they'd be allowed on the flight. He'd wanted to put each alpha in their place, but if he'd started swinging he wouldn't have been allowed on the plane either. His hard work would have been for nothing and his boyfriend would have been devastated. During the flight, Eren had kept a death grip on his hand. The omega's left leg bouncing with nerves, and grating on his. His eyes were glued out the window, and when they finally took off, Eren nearly lost his dinner over it. His free hand remained over his mouth for the rest of the flight, thankfully keeping it down until they reached Paradis Beach airport, where he ran to the nearest bathroom and hurled his guts up. A quarter of a sedative was too little, so he'd have to remember to try half a pill on the way back. From the bathroom they returned and collected their suitcase, before picking up the keys to the rental car. It was tiny compared to his Range Rover, a small compact sedan that smelt like recycled air and dampness. Not exactly what he'd hoped for, and whoever they employed to detail their cars was absolutely useless. Still. He had to keep it together until they reached Rose Maria Hotel. Rose Maria Hotel had once been the Port Authority building back in the tail end of the 1800's. Keeping its aged facade, it made for nice picture with its neat tropical gardens, and sprawling lawns. There'd been additions over the years, but the brick work had been rendered with the same white and terracotta trim as the original building, giving a near seamless feel. If it wasn't for the change in window styles, it really would have been perfect. Parking in the side car park, he let Eren settle for a moment while he grabbed their suitcase and the omega's back pack. He didn't know if Eren even realised they were or not. Rounding the sedan to the passenger side, he opened the door as shook Eren's shoulder "Eren, we're here" "I... we are?" "Yep. Come on, we need to check in" Climbing out the car, Eren perked up at the sight of the palm trees and ferns "Wow... we're staying here?" "Yeah. It's not far from the beach, or anything really" "It's gorgeous" "We can admire the view after we've both slept" "Is it ok to take photos?" "I don't see why not" There wasn't much to take photos of. The sun was barely risen, things more grey than the bright lush green they'd be once morning came properly. Letting Eren fool around with his phone, his boyfriend took his hand when he was finally satisfied with whatever he'd been trying to do. The foyer of the hotel was every bit as opulent as the photos online looked. Two huge grand staircases lead up to the second story, made from what seemed to be a red wood. The colour contrasting in comparison to the blues, greens, whites and golds of the mosaic floor. All the soft furnishings had an Art Deco them, while crowning jewel of the space was the sparkling chandelier above their heads. It was classy, without being tacky. Located between the two staircases was the reception desk. A vintage telephone sitting on the far left end of it. Eren probably had no idea what it was, or how to use the circular dial "Levi! Look at this place! This must have cost a fortune!" "Nothing I couldn't afford" After all, it wasn't just any other occasion when you got dump your boyfriend's dead abusive brother's ashes in the ocean, where you'd never have to see them again. These things needed celebrating... er, to be done properly and respectfully and all that shit. Whatever. Zeke was dead, and after this he wasn't going to be in Eren's wardrobe or on his coffee table anymore, and that was the main thing. Other than Eren's mental health, and the omega having a chance to say goodbye and all that shit "It's beautiful. Do you think this all real wood? Trees these days never have a chance to grow like this, because people cut them down too soon, but wow. I think this desk top is from one huge tree" He had no idea when Eren got so knowledgeable on trees, but it made him proud. Leaning against the bench, the two people behind the counter looked just as tried as he felt. The man ignoring them as the young woman rose and smiled brightly, asking if they had a reservation. Sighing all the papers, she took copies of their ID's, and he paid the $100 key and room bond, which would be returned upon departure. Their room was 104, on the second floor. She pointed out the elevators, as she placed a heap of different pamphlets on the counter with his copy of their paperwork. The elevator also had the Art Deco theme, but the stairs were quicker. Taking Eren's hand, he lead his boyfriend upstairs and along the hall to their room. When booking he'd been careful to mention Eren suffered from PTSD, depression and panic attacks, just in case he started screaming or sleep walked again. He'd rather people didn't call the police over something his boyfriend couldn't control, and if something did happen, he wanted someone to be able to help Eren rather than make things worse. He knew the whole staff wouldn't care, and the reception probably didn't care either. As much as he hoped they would. It was more for legal backing if things went to absolute shit, he could show proof that the hotel was made aware of Eren's condition. Letting Eren open the door, the omega let out a gasp. The room was styled white, with pops of colour from the art on the wall. Their bed was a four poster with white drapes, the wood a warm colour making it feel so much bigger and instantly calming. The prints of the wall continued the tropical theme, with their cheese plant leaves, and birds of paradise "Levi!" Squealing, Eren rushed forward, opened the French doors to the balcony, with a clear view out to the ocean. Closing and locking the door behind them, Levi wheeled their suitcase of up the small lounge area, dumping it and Eren's backpack there, before heading out to join Eren on the balcony "How's the view?" Spinning round, he could an armful of Eren as he launched himself on him. As his boyfriend started sobbing, he wondered if he'd done something wrong "Brat?" "It's perfect. Everything is perfect!" "Then why are you crying?" "Because I'm so fucking happy!" Sobbing the words out against his shoulder, Eren was completely adorable. Levi laughed affectionately "I thought you would be" "This place... it's too much! You didn't have to go to all this effort!" "If we're going on holiday, we are doing this right" "I don't deserve this! You're just here with me!" "It's because I'm here with you that I wanted things to be perfect" Nuzzling into his neck, Eren peppered kisses to the spot "Do you want to take a look at the rest of the room?" Nodding, his omega didn't seem to want to let him go. With his legs around Levi's waist from where he'd literally caught him, Levi carried him back through their room and into the bathroom. The bathtub inside was large enough that could bath together properly if they wanted, while the twin showers meant they could also shower together if they wanted. The might not be up to that in their relationship, but he'd known Eren would love it "Two showers!" Yep. He was right "And a big bath" "That's like... bigger than my room at Zeke's... Levi! How did you do this?!" "I didn't design the hotel" "Noooo. I mean. If I planned this, I couldn't have found somewhere this perfect for us. They have pebbles in the walls!" The pebbles were along the splash back of the counter area, and down the wall of the right shower. Again they'd followed through the tropical feel with the whites, the natural timbers and the green towels "So... we have all day, what do you want to do?" "We do have a huge bed" Levi swallowed hard. Eren's words went right to his dick, even if it wasn't what the omega meant "I want to sleep, then I want to go explore. I want to explore but it's too early for anything to be open" "To be it is" "Mhmm. And I think you deserve a treat" Eren's treat was some seriously heavy making out. Groping and rutting up against each other through their clothes, he sucked possessive hickeys to Eren's neck. He didn't want anyone thinking Eren was up for grabs, and without a bonding mark, this was the best he could hope for. By the end of it, his boyfriend looked thoroughly fucked and drunk on their pheromones. His bright green eyes were black with lust, while he kept the middle of his bottom lip trapped beneath his two front teeth. Levi wanted to tear his clothes off and wreck that tight wet arse of Eren's, and from Eren's scent, he wanted the exact same thing. Backing off to let things cool back down, his boyfriend's hand slid down his chest and to his jeans "Brat, what are you doing?" "They're too tight" "I don't think that's a good idea" "It hurts" So he wasn't trying to be sexy, he was just so aroused it hurt... shit. Now he wanted to blow him... "Strip your jeans off" "I'm trying" Rolling his eyes, he slapped Eren's hands away, undoing the straining button and fly "Better?" "Mmmm... still hurts" "Wait here" He'd packed condoms on the off chance Eren had wanted to touch. He just didn't think it would be the first day. Especially not after the flight over, but that all seemed to be forgotten the moment Eren had seen their room. It thrilled his alpha and boosted both their egos to know they'd made their omega so happy. Unzipping the front pocket of the suitcase, he pulled out the box of condoms and returned to the bed. Eren's eyes widening as he caught sight of them "Levi..." "Don't worry. I just want to make you feel good" "No sex?" "Nope. I have something else in mind, if you'll let me" "I trust you" "Good. You have no idea how beautiful you look like this" "I don't think I look beautiful" "You do. Especially when you get so happy. You wanted to make me feel good, but I want to make you feel even better" Pulling a condom from the box, he tore the wrapper with his teeth as he locked eyes with Eren. The omega letting out a pleasant groan at the sight "I haven't done anything yet" "You should be in a condom add. Everyone would use condoms if they saw you" He knew Eren meant because he thought he was sexy, but he couldn't help but laugh over it "What?" "It's fine. Just let me continue" "I said something wrong, didn't I?" "No, you said it perfectly" Hanji would piss herself laughing if she'd heard what Eren said... gross. Why was he thinking about Hanji when was in bed with Eren... and gay. Eww. Forcing her from his mind, he pulled down Eren's boxer briefs, eyeing the omega's erection "Levi?" "It's ok. Trust me, ok? You just need to say no it's too much" "I know" Nodding in acknowledgment, Levi unrolled the condom down the Eren's shaft, the omega arching upwards with a moan "So good for me. Now, I'm going to blow you" "Whaaa-t?" Burying himself between Eren's legs, his boyfriend gripped his hair, pulling in a way that spurred him on. Eren hadn't been sure at first, so Levi had taken it slow until the omega began trying to fuck his mouth. Holding his hips down, he bobbed his head, cheeks hollowed and his eyes on Eren's face. If he worked the tip, Eren mewed much more loudly than when took his whole shaft in his mouth. He'd never thought about giving head without a condom on, but if he was going to, it'd be with Eren. The omega's follow up STI test had come back clean, the syphillis taken care of by the antibiotics. However, now wasn't the time for that. Loosening his hold on Eren's hips, Eren clumsily and eagerly rocked his hips, using Levi's mouth to bring himself to orgasm with a moan of Levi's name. Waiting until his dick began to soften, Levi pulled off with a soft sigh. That was fucking hot. He hated Marco and Jean for sending Eren into heat, but the heat seemed to have been the best thing ever for Eren's sexual confidence. It thrilled him that Eren was more comfortable in his own body, and that he was actually starting to accept that pleasure was a natural part of a relationship, sexual pleasure included, but not necessary all the time "Fuck... where the fuck did you learn how to do that?" Slipping the condom off, he tied the end and tucked Eren back into his underwear, waiting until the condom was back in the bin and he was laying facing Eren before answering "So you liked it?" "At first, I felt like I needed to run, or push you off... then it started feeling good... and you looked so sexy" "If you wanted to stop..." "No! I, uh, um, mean... no. Maybe if we did this all the time, it wouldn't feel so special each time we touched... I like, the idea of liking it and I do like it... I guess that I'm saying because it's you, and you never force me and you always make sure I'm ok during it and it's not all the time it's ok... to work on the touching thing" "You're sure?" Eren smiled and nodded, wrapping his arm around his waist as he slung his leg over Levi's hip "With you. I like it. I want to be able to have sex with you, when I'm not in heat. I want to be able to say "I'm having sex with my boyfriend", without relying on my heat or alcohol or medication or anything" "You might want to work on that wording" "Sorry. I just mean. When we had sex, it felt good and I don't regret losing my virginity to you. I never liked touching until you came along. Zeke would kiss me on the lips or pat my hair and make me sit in your lap, but you let me choose for me what I want. That night I wanted you so fucking badly. I still want you. It's probably weird that we had sex and now we have to work back up to it again" No. Because Levi had known from the start Eren had been abused by his brother. Not everything he did made sound and logical sense. There was also that two month gap where anything could have happened. He'd regressed so far when he finally returned to their lives and Zeke's stupid "training" hadn't helped. So no "No. It's not weird. You're the best thing that ever happened to me" "I don't know I'm all that good" "So you think I go around blowing random omegas for fun" Eren shook his head "No. You respect people too much for that" "I respect you. We should get some sleep" "You don't... want me to touch you back?" "Eren, we don't have to rush any of this. Today has been long and it's barely started. I appreciate that you want to, but we'll work up to it, ok?" "O-Ok" Eren's face fell "Hey. No. Don't give me that look. For now, I just want to lay here with you. Like you said, if we do too much, we could start a panic attack or you could go into heat. We have time, don't forget that" "You're right... I... I was a little scared" "I know. When you're ready, you'll tell. Like you always do, and I'm ok with that" "Thank you" "For blowing you?" "For blowing me. For doing all this for me. For being here with me. For taking me in. For giving me the kind of life I always wanted, but was too scared to dream for. But most of all, thank you for existing" The last one hit him hard. He'd never been thanked for existing before, not before Eren had come along. Pulling him as close as he could, he nuzzled into him. A rush of emotions swirling through him. He was so fucking lucky to have Eren. Someone who saw all the sides to his personality and still wanted him. For the first time in his life, he felt truly accepted, and Eren had done it so easily. The omega had been through hell. He should be broken. He should hate alphas, but his omega had the courage to let him and trust him. To let him be himself. Unexpected tears formed in his eyes "Levi? Are you ok?" "Thank you, Eren" "My silly alpha" Kissing his hair, Eren then yawned softly "Goodnight, Levi" "Goodnight, Eren" Eren fell asleep quickly, while Levi couldn't. Staying in Eren's arms until his emotions had settled and his tears had dried, he was careful not to wake his boyfriend as he slipped from the bed, and pulled back the covers on the other side. Taking Eren's socks and shoes off for him, he moved his boyfriend under the blankets, Eren giving him a dopey smile as he stirred briefly and mumbled his name, before snuggling into the plush white pillow. Covering him over, he kissed Eren's forehead, before heading out onto the balcony. This place had been much nicer than he'd expected, but then again, he was paying nearly $300 a night. They had cheaper rooms, yet he'd wanted the ocean view because he knew how happy it would make Eren. Standing on the balcony, Levi took a deep breath. Gulls were already cawing and swooping in the morning light, while small birds twittered and danced between the hotel trees. Isabel would have loved it. She'd always loved the way that birds could just fly wherever they wanted, almost envious of that kind of freedom. That's why she'd pursued her studies, making her focus on seabirds. Though she loved all birds, birds didn't always love her back. She'd gone through four budgies in their first year at college, always giving them ridiculous names like "Air Crash Investigations". But her face... fuck. The way her face would light up when she started off on a tangent about birds... with his eyes closed, he could almost fucking see it. She and Eren were so much alike in so many ways, and he'd loved her like a little sister. Both her and Farlan. The three of them had been family. Maybe if things had gone differently, the four of them would be on this holiday together? Eren begging Isabel to teach him everything, the pair of them completely lost in conversation. It wasn't often he let himself think of what could have been. When they'd died, that was all he could think about. Every single "what if" went through his fucking head. There hasn't been enough drugs, alcohol or cigarettes in the world to take the "what ifs" away. Besides, if he hadn't lost everything, he wouldn't have become a paramedic. He probably wouldn't have been babysitting Hanji's hen's party. Then he wouldn't have met Eren, and that... that fucking scared him. He was well aware he was over his head. Half the time he didn't know if he enough for the omega. He was short, ill-tempered and quick to mentally jump to the worst. He'd been told a number of times that his personality didn't match his face. Or that his sexuality was wrong. But it was going through all that shit had lead to Eren, and even if things weren't perfect all the time, he wanted Eren to stay by his side until he died first, because he couldn't picture a day without Eren in the world. All these feelings scared the fuck out of him. He'd loved Isabel and Farlan. He'd loved his mum. He'd tolerated his crazy uncle who was definitely not a great parental model, but had raised him the best he could. He'd loved these people and they were all gone. So when Eren got scared over losing everyone he loved, he understood. He loved Eren, but a darkness would settle in his stomach at the thought. A small voice telling him he'd loose him, so it was better to show him than it was to tell him. Which was true. He was shit at words, but actions, he could do actions. Opening his eyes, he ran his fingers through his hair. For the first time in a long time, he craved a cigarette. Just the one. Probably because Isabel was a smoker. Somehow one cigarette on the lonely balcony, while he watched the sun rising over the water and the birds swooping seemed almost poetic. Fuck. He'd really mellowed out in his old age. He needed a fucking shower first, then sleep. Cigarettes and daydreams could wait until Eren was awake. * When Levi woke, Eren wasn't there. His eyes first went to the balcony doors, relived to find them closed, before he scrambled up, eyes finding their room door locked and chained like he'd left it. With no where else to go, he strode into the bathroom. Eren was sitting in the bathtub, the room filled with his sour scent. Not pausing, he walked over to the tub and sank down on the edge "Eren?" Guilty green eyes looked up at him. His boyfriends eyes weren't filled with the tears he'd expected, but that was because he'd missed them. The slight traces reflecting slightly as Eren looked back down "You ok?" "Y-yeah" "Wanna tell me why you're sitting in an empty bath?" "I woke up feeling disoriented, and kind of stumbled in here" At least he hadn't stumbled outside "I couldn't remember where we were or why we were here" Oh... barely keeping his balance, he leaned over and kissed Eren's hair "It's ok. You know you can wake me, don't you?" "You smelt so sad about something, that I didn't want to wake you in case it made it worse" "I was a little sad, but at the past. My past, not yours. It's ok though. Because seeing you're ok, makes it all ok" Eren huffed at him "I don't like it when you're sad. I don't know what to say or do" "You don't have to say or do anything. Just keep being you. Can you get up out the bath? You need a shower and then we both could use some food" "Yeah... my butts numb. I think I've been in here a while" "It couldn't have been too long, or I would have woken sooner" "That's true. You're good at waking up when I move about" Not always. If he had been, Eren's arms wouldn't have been torn to shreds "Do you want me to undo the bandages, and do them back up after? You can't cover the wounds with concealer, not while they're still healing, but I think there's a few light long shirts" "Shirt please... I don't like the bandages very much... and" Eren's voice dropped to a whisper "I don't want people stare" "Ok" Kissing Eren's hair again, he stood and helped the omega stand. His boyfriend had don't well not freaking out completely. * With Eren dressed in a blue long sleeve shirt and another pair of black jeans, and sneakers, and his own nearly matching ensemble, Levi was pretty certain they didn't look headed to the beach. While the hotel had its own restaurant, they'd decided to take a look around the small strip of stores across from the main fisherman's jetty. With his left hand in Levi's right, Eren was taking photos of everything, while also trying to take bad selfies of the pair of them walking. The omega's eyes so wide and captivating, that Levi felt lost each time he caught a glimpse. When Eren's stumbled for the tenth time in a matter of metres, Levi pulled him to a stop "Eren, you're going to fall if you don't start paying attention to your footing. I know you're excited and want photos" "I want to remember everything and everywhere we go" "Then stop taking photos for now. Most of them probably haven't worked out, as it is. There's a cafe just over there. We'll have lunch, then you take your selfies" "I just don't want to forget being here with you" "And you won't, but wouldn't you rather photo's that worked out, and aren't all blurry" Eren sighed "You're probably right. I'm sorry" "You don't need to be sorry. You're happy and excited... it's... cute" He cringed at the word, Eren snorting at the expression "Ok. Now I know you definitely need food. Come on old man, we'll get you some food and a nice hot cup of tea" Faking a mumble, Levi rolled his eyes and let himself be pulled along by Eren towards the cafe. Levi ordered a burger with a side of home made fries, expecting Eren to steal them. Instead his boyfriend ordered a simple salad and a juice. Happily munching away on his lettuce as his gaze kept drifting beyond the low brick wall of the cafes alfresco area "We can go down to the beach after this" "I forgot to bring sunscreen" "Then we'll pick some up. It's not a big deal" "It is. Your skins paler than mine, so you need to look after it. Even sitting out here, you're starting to burn" The redness in his face wasn't from sunburn, but from the game of footsies he'd started while waiting for their food "Right. It's fine. We'll find a pharmacy after this" Sunburn. He could roll with that. He was a goddamn alpha and alphas didn't blush! And since when did he "roll" with things. "Ok. It's really pretty here" "I'm surprised I haven't had to pull you out the ocean yet" "It's definitely tempting. And I'm sure I could beat you down there, but sunscreen first. I don't want to get burnt and then not be able to enjoy this place" "You do know people go on vacation to forget all about being responsible" "I've gotta find the perfect place for Zeke..." Right. He should have fucking known. A blow job and a nap wasn't going to make Eren forget his brother. The smile that played on his lips now turned fake, and he wasn't that hungry anymore "Alright. Now we've got a plan. Sunscreen, beach, and Zeke" "Yeah..." Leaving his meal half eaten, Levi waited as Eren took a few moments. His hand over his mouth as he apologised for eating too much. The kid had barely eaten more than he had. When his boyfriend finally joined him, his hand was still over his mouth. Wandering along the strip of shops, Eren slowly pulled his hand from his face, but seemed off with the fairies. He wasn't taking photos, nor did he want to stop at the brightly decorated home decor shop. Though it has plenty of shiny and sparkling things inside. The kind of things Eren liked to look at. The fact Eren didn't want to look at the shinies worried him "Eren?" "Hmm?" "You ok?" "Just looking for a pharmacy" "We can look at other shops as well, you know that right?" "Huh... yeah. Sorry. I'm thinking about Zeke" He couldn't tell him not to think about his brother was impossible "Do you want to tell me about it?" "I was just... Zeke told me he was going to take me away from Shinganshima... I know we wouldn't have come here, so I was wondering what he'd think about it all" "It's fine to wonder, but don't forget that I'm here. Ok. I'm with you" "I didn't mean to make it seem like I didn't think like that. I just... I'm happy to be here with you" The "I just..." didn't sit well with him. He wanted to call Eren out on it, but didn't want him clamming up further "Levi, you're frowning" "It's nothing. If there's a shop you want to look in, we can go in" "Ok..." Despite saying that, Eren didn't pull him into any of them. Not until they reached the pharmacy, where he also insisted on getting sunglasses for the pair of them. Forcing him to try on a set of mirrored aviators, Eren howled with laughter. They really didn't suit him, yet some how they ended up buying them and he was forced to wear them. Eren choosing for himself a large pair of black round glasses with silver flowers around the edges and on the bands. They definitely suited his boyfriend more than his aviators suited him. Dragged off to the side, Eren went about getting the sunscreen back out, squeezing out a large dollop, before dipping his finger in and bopping the tip of Levi's nose "Really, brat?" "Yep. Now hold still" Covering his face and neck with sunscreen like he was a child "Done. Now, do mine" He did as asked, Eren leaning down so he could. Instead of bopping Eren's nose, he kissed the tip, the omega letting out a small giggle as he did. Again he couldn't understand how Eren could be so distant one moment, and laughing the next... Sunscreened up, they hit the beach. Eren kicking off his sneakers and running around in his sock. Picking up the abandoned shoes, Levi cursing the sand getting into his own sneakers. The sand would stick to his socks and the lining of his shoes. He liked his shoes. Watching Eren run to the waters edge, he winced as Eren stepped into the water in socks. Now they'd need to be washed. Eren's jeans too... no. He needed to get out of his own head. Photos. He should be getting photos of Eren. Splashing in the edge of the water, Eren's where wide. Levi having walked up to stand on the still dry bit of the sand, free from the swash "Levi! It's soooo cold!" Splashing water towards him, Eren clearly wanted to go swimming. Something they were definitely not doing in jeans and long sleeves "Brat, we need to get changed if you want to go swimming" "But the water is right here!" "And you can go in it, once you're in something more appropriate" Squatting down, Eren picked something up before running up to him, a brown and purple cowry shell in his hand "Levi! What's this!? It's so pretty!" It was thanks to Isabel that he knew the name. She'd never actually made it the ocean, despite her interest in birds "It's called a cowry shell" "It so pretty. Can I keep it?" It was actually illegal to take shells from the beach, not that anyone really seemed to care about it, and it was just the one shell "Just the one. If everyone came to the beach and took the shells, there'd be none left for any others" "So it's ok?" "Yeah, like I said, just the one" "Ok. Thank you. It's so pretty... how do you know it's a cower shell?" "Cowry. I'll tell you about sometime soon" "Ok. But if you don't want to, it's ok. I won't be mad" "I do want to" "You keep telling me that I don't have to push myself, and you look really sad right now" "I'm just thinking my friend would have loved it here" "Ohhh..." Wrapping his arm around Eren's waist, he gave him a quick kiss on the cheek "Lets go get to the hotel, and get changed? We need to grab a couple of towels too" "Ok! I want to take a photo of my shell too. This place is so pretty" "I think you've said that once or twice" "Ah, but I've got something you haven't heard" "Do I want to?" "Yep! Ready?" "Go on" "Are you sunburnt? Or are you always this hot?" "Smooth" "I thought so" "I've got one for you" "Oooh, this should be good" "Is your name Summer? Because damn, you're hot" "Oh my god! That's terrible" "Someone call a lifeguard. I'm drowning in your eyes" Eren groaned "That's enough old man" "Can you hear the waves? They want me to take you out for a drink" Eren bumped him with his hip "You're awful. I don't know any more beach ones" "Don't worry, I'll keep shelling them out" Looking at the shell in his hand, Eren sighed "You're jokes are terrible" "You started it" "I yield. Please. I yield" "You yield? You know what that means right?" "Only because it's one of the words you taught me" "And you remember?" "I remember everything when it comes to you" His heart skipped a beat, nuzzling into Eren's arm, he breathed his boyfriend's scent in deeply "I didn't..." "No. It's ok. Thank you" Was it possible to be this happy? On a beach, with all its shitty sand and screaming kids? Because right now, he was so very, stupidly happy.

[harryseyebrows]

More parenting questions because we need specifics! Attachment parenting or cry it out? Baby wearing? Homemade baby food? Are any picky eaters? Do they introduce them to any religion? (I imagine Harry showing them all if anyone starts to ask questions) What stance will Jeff and Harry take on underage drinking or age of first cell phones? Who gives the birds and bees talk? Are they the cool house to hang out at for the teenagers? (Harry always has baked goods, Jeff has a killer vinyl collection)

i love you for this.

okay. so in terms of parenting style, it evolves from baby to baby. they had such a hard time getting pregnant with the twins that it makes them super protective once theyre born. harry is a bit more overbearing and neurotic, and not to say that jeff isnt just as scared and nervous, he’s just a bit more rational. they read the same books and know almost all of the same information, but when it comes down to it, harry often foregoes what most people and experts will tell you in favor of rushing down the hall if either twin so much as hiccups. jeff tries to reason with him and urge him to let them self soothe sometimes but its with very limited success. and jeff is kinda constantly battling with himself because he knows that harry is still spooked after the miscarriages (he is too) and when he forces harry to stay in the room and not run to them as soon as they cry, he sees how uncomfortable it makes harry, so he usually relents. however, harry relaxes over time. by the time the twins are around 6 months, he has other things to worry about, namely being pregnant again so soon, so he’s tired and cranky and swollen so letting the twins cry it out is sometimes the better option. he knows that he has a secure attachment with both twins and that they’re not lacking for anything, and that they’re both healthy and happy. with river, harry is significantly more relaxed, and by the time willow comes along, he and jeff are both old pros. 

BABY WEARING. if you think for one second that harry would not be ecstatic over the possibility of having his baby/babies strapped to him so he can walk around and show them off, even if its only at home and his only audience is the house plants, youre a CRAZY PERSON. harry loves a baby sling. jeff is less enthusiastic than harry but he’s still pretty psyched about it. even though when they take the twins out together, one baby per chest, they do look ridiculous. harry never gets tired of it, even after 4 kids. especially when theyre newborns. catch him doing laundry and dishes with his paisley printed baby scarf-sling on. DELIGHTFUL. 

homemade baby food. they try it just for shits when the twins are able to start solids but its a very short-lived project. too much mess. too expensive. store bought it just fine for them lol 

eli will eat whatever you put in front of him, but jude, harrys sweet, otherwise amicable little boy, is the one who goes through a phase where he proclaims ‘i dont like it’ to anything and everything. oddly enough, though, the things he will still eat are mostly healthy, like cubed fruit and baby carrots. however, he’s still a big fan of mac and cheese, but staunchly refuses to eat dino-shaped nuggets, to which eli usually looks at harry and jeff as if he’s saying ‘more for me, right?’ river is easy, too. a little human garbage disposal. harry has had to stop him from trying to eat a banana peel more than he’d like to admit. willow isnt quite as easy as river but she’s pretty close. all of the azoff children have very broad palates, thanks to harry and his adventurous cooking. jeff and harry also like to very very hands-on with the kids eating experiences -- they dedicate one night a week to having the kids help them with dinner. harry also likes to bake with them quite a bit. how many 4 years old do you know that have baked a lemon tart?

as far as religion goes, the kids are raised with ~blended religions ie jewish and christian (i did some research on it, and much like any other polarizing topic, there are a lot of people who claim that it has to be a hard left of right, one or the other, but if you dig a bit past the more sensationalized articles, you can find some info on people who were raised with two faiths and turned out just fine -- its finding a balance and respecting the holidays and traditions of both -- as well as explaining things just as you would if you were raising them with one faith. if given the room to explore both and come to their own decisions, it can actually be very valuable and healthy **also worth noting that i myself am not a religious person but i know its important to a lot of people). jeff and harry do their best to keep things clear and distinct but also make sure that the kids dont feel alienated or distant from either side. they dont force anything on them -- the kids are free to say no to certain things, and they both do their best to answer questions and such, so its not super strict, but more of a ‘its there if you want it’ type of situation. the kids also think its very special that they get to celebrate Hanukkah and christmas 

as neurotic as harry was when they were little, once the kids are older, he’s the more lax one when it comes to certain things ie drinking, pot, tattoos, etc. he’s pro ‘if youre gonna drink id rather you do it in the house than at a party’ so when the boys are 18/19, they’re allowed to have a beer or a glass of wine if they want it, as long as harry takes their keys. he knows that if you make something super off limits, its gonna make it that much more tempting when he’s not around to say no. thats why when river is 6 and asks what beer tastes like, harry lets him have a super tiny sip and is amused when river spits it out immediately, but less amused when he spits it out back into the bottle. jeff is a bit more strict and would prefer that they dont do it at all, but he respects harrys policies and kinda grins and bears it. 

jeff does the birds and the bees because harry is banned from talking about anything sex-related around the kids per their own request, simply because he’s super embarrassing and they hate it lmao sometimes he sits down and watches those shitty daytime talk shows, the one with the doctors as a panel, and he learns some random ass info about penile health and the next thing you know he’s bringing it up at breakfast only to be met with a chorus of ‘shut upppp dad, oh my GOD’ jeff is way more chill and easy to talk to, and the kids dont mind when he tells them because they can see that he’s just as uncomfortable as they are, eager to have it done and over with, as opposed to the theatrics they know theyd get with harry (probably some pseudo guidance counselor nonsense where he’d act placid and calm and stare at them with his laser beam focus, radiating ‘you can tell me anything’ vibes that would make them want to wither away. there’d be hand gestures and a condom demonstration with a banana, a lecture on embracing your sexuality but being careful and safe. NO THANKS, says all 4 kids)

and you are absolutely correct, other kids and teenagers seem to love going to the hazoff household, even though the actual hazoff kids dont know why. one of their dads is a complete goof (and totally embraces it) and the other is significantly more chill but also prone to being nerdy and embarrassing (harry tries to impress under the guise of being casual, whereas jeff is always ready to bust out naked baby pictures while simultaneously be the ~cool one). there are always cookies or some type of loaf cake on the counter and ready to be eaten, and jeff is always working on some new sound or projection system for movies. its just a really nice, open environment where anyone who steps into their house is accepted with open arms. unless they’re rude or mean. then harry is mildly passive aggressive but otherwise still civil. only once that person leaves does he mutter something about ‘well they weren’t very nice’ 

[thoughtsofmine97]

Traveling: Greyhound Bus Addition!

Everyone has at least heard of the greyhound bus line.

 If you live in the U.S., Canada, or Mexico, and you have traveled on the highway, you may have seen one driving next to your car. Hell, you and your family members may have tried to be the first one to connect to the bus’s wifi before it got too far away or one of you got off at the next exit.

 But, if you haven’t, is is a form of mass travel (think of airplanes, but on the ground) that goes to over 3,800 destinations in North America (and yes, that means Mexico and Canada as well, and you need a passport for those trips), and it is an easy a cheap way to travel, if you don’t mind being in a sitting position for a long period of time.

 Here are some things that I wish I had known before I had decided to go this route (pun intended) or that I had to just figure out myself.

WARNING: This is my opinion, and I am in no way a professional since I had only taken this company once. This is just from my own experience. There is a man on YouTube by the name FrugalTravelGuru (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC_NqsoFzUroeZ90ZZDdqSaA) who has good advice as well.

 I have also traveled by other means, and I will implementing tips from those as well!!!

Book your ticket well before hand

 You are going to want to book your ticket ahead of time.

Like a month or two before your travel date.

  Besides the obvious reasons (I.e. Cheaper, more seating options, and the fact the bus can fill up quickly), plans can change. And when plans change, you have to have ample time to change your means of travel.

  Lets say that you book your bus ticket two and a half months before the day that you leave, and it’s to go to a friends wedding. And a month goes by, and your friend (lets say the bride) Calls you and says that the wedding is moved up a week, and now you have to reschedule.

  If you give enough time between the booking of the ticket and the actual traveling date, you have more wiggle room. You never know when an emergency will pop up.

Keep your luggage in mind and what is a carry-on?

 No matter what kind of ticket you buy, the bus line allows you to have at least one free suitcase and one free carry on (This is just standard. Check online or your ticket to see which one you get and what it allows). 

  The weight limit for your suitcase is fifty pounds (50 lbs), and you do have to pay a fee if it is overweight. There are luggage weighing devices at the larger stations, but you can weigh them at home with luggage weighers that you can buy yourself or eyeball it (remember to keep the weight of the actual suitcase in mind) so you don’t get surprised when you get to check in.

 Just remember, your luggage goes underneath the bus in the luggage compartment, and you won’t have access to it until you get to where you are transferring to another bus, or to your final destination. I also suggest getting luggage locks from Walmart (Or your retailer of choice) to deter people from taking your things, and keep the key on you.

 Your carry-on is the small/medium sized bag that you can bring with you on to the main part of the bus. It has to be small enough to fit in the overhead bin, on the floor by your feet, or in your lap. Personally, I kept my most needed items in this bag to keep it close by. 

Here's a list of the items I personally think that you might need, but you probably don’t need everything on this list:

Your bus ticket

Passport (if traveling between the U.S. and Canada or the U.S. and Mexico)

Wallet

Phone/phone charger/headphones

Small travel pillow (they have these at Walmart with dust covers and cases that zip up and are in different colors or designs. They are perfect for keeping something between your head and the window)

Small throw blanket (It has be small enough to put back into your bag, and it comes in handy because the bus tends to get kind of cold)

Extra cash

Tylenol/allergy meds/other meds that you may need/cough drops

Gum

Some granola bars or small food items

Water

Hygiene products (small hair brush, toothbrush/paste, pads/tampons) I brushed my teeth when I had gotten to my layovers just to keep bad breath away. I also keep deodorant/body wipes on me so I can not smell bad. 

  Again, you don’t have to have everything on this list, but feel free to use it if you need to.

 Keep in mind that, more than likely, your gonna probably doze off or not have full attention on your bag, so get a luggage lock on it while you aren’t actually looking for something and keep the key on you (in your pocket). You might also want to keep your wallet/ticket in a hard to reach pocket just to keep your ID and ticket on you and no one tries to pick pocket you while you’re asleep or on the way to the bathroom.

TIP #1: I know that you may have heard this a thousand times, but get luggage that is brightly colored or had a different pattern on it (I’ve seen people get their faces printed onto their luggage). Stickers, paint, or bedazzling works as well, but keep anything that makes it look “expensive” to a minimum. The shinier and newer it looks, the more likely it is to be stolen (put a few dings and scuffs into it for good measure).

 This is because everyone and their 2x great Aunt Lucy has a black suitcase, and if your bag gets left at a station or stolen, they need identifiable features to find your bag(s). Don’t just put a luggage tag on it! It can be ripped/cut/torn off.

 Also, have a picture of certain items in your bag (I.e. a few of your shirts, a laptop, any personalized items, etc...). This way, if they located it, they can confirm that it is yours. Just remember that anyone can say that it’s theirs and walkaway with everything.

Have extra cash on you!

 Now, keep this in moderation. Don’t go around with large amounts of cash on you, especially at the larger stations in big cities where questionable people tend to hang around. Keep it under $100 if you can. Have two or three $20 bills, a few fives and a few ones.

 I say have extra cash on you because emergencies pop up, you can’t use your card for some reason, or other situations where cash is the best option.

  For example, if you have to change your ticket for whatever reason, the first time changing it is free, but each additional change has a $20 fee. 

 I had to change my ticket twice, and the second time was two in the morning in Nashville, and the card reader was off, and if I had waited for it to turn on, I would’ve eventually miss the bus I had my ticket changed for and would’ve had to wait four hours for the next bus in the morning. 

 Also, it’s just easier to pay in cash when at the vending machines or at the Cafes that are in the stations. 

HAVE PLEANTY OF WATER ON YOU!

 For the love of God (or whoever you pray to/believe in), bring some filled refillable water bottles with you onto the bus. The driver isn’t going to stop every hour whenever someone needs a drink.

  I went a solid nine to ten hours without a drink because I was stupid and didn’t bring any. It wasn’t until the driver had stopped at a McDonalds the next morning when I was finally able to get something to drink. 

  The drinks in the bus stations are expensive!! 

 Unlike airports, you are allowed to bring outside drinks (non-alcoholic!) onto the bus, So, put your favorite hydro flask(s) into your carryon!

 More than likely, your bus driver isn’t going to have trash cans/trash bags on board, so refrain from bringing plastic bottles or cans onto the bus. Plus, it’s just annoying to have someone else’s empty soda can roll down the middle aisle while you’re trying to take a nap at midnight (yes, this is from personal experience)

The Bathroom (dun dun dun!)

Now, I am talking about the bathroom that’s on board the busses themselves, not the ones at the stations. 

I’m just clarifying.

Wait, there are restrooms on board the greyhound busses?

Yes! 

 But, they are simply just port-a-potties put into the back of bus. They even have the blue toilet water that you normally see in them. The restroom is just a bit bigger than a port-a-potty, with just a toilet, a toilet paper dispenser, and enough room to stand up. That’s it. And the walls are thin, so the entire bus can hear you (to an extent).

 And, just as a heads up, the toilet doesn’t flush, so whatever you put in there, it stays in there until the greyhound employees drain it.

TIP #2: Bring hand sanitizer. There is no sink on the bus for you to wash your hands in, and who knows how many people have used it. 

TIP #3: DO NOT, and I mean DO NOT, attempt to stand up and pull up your pants in the restroom right as the bus starts to pull away (yes, I’m speaking from experience again). You may yell a four letter expiative that four Mennonites, an elderly woman, and the bus driver you are 100% sure saw clutching a rosary as you were boarding hears it.

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

Well, I hope this helps! I can do a part two if this becomes popular!

  Remember: 

Drink your water

Take the fourteen cups, five spoons, your cereal bowl from two days ago, and a million water bottles down to the kitchen.

And light your favorite candle (within sight and don’t catch anything on fire) 

[dxmedstudent]

dx I'm on my first placement where I'm living in hospital accommodation and I'm finding it really hard to leave work behind me at the end of the day. because I can't get any physical distance from the hospital I think, and I'm doing acute care and don't know anyone's outcomes, it hangs over me. not really sleeping at the min. do you have any advice?

Hello! I can empathise, I’ve had outfirms since 3rd year of med school, and stayed in in hospital accommodation for a lot of that time. I’ll be honest, hospital accommodation can be pretty grim; unlike private accommodation, hospitals put very little (read: no) effort into making it feel homely or even vaguely nice. It can feel like an extension of hospital. And I’ve lived close to hospital often enough to agree that it’s hard to distance yourself when you can literally see your workplace from your bedroom window. It’s also difficult to maintain sleep hygeine when you basically live in one room. For that, I’d suggest taking walks after you finish uni for the day, if it’s not too late. Explore the local area, and find the nice places to be, if there are any. Part of your problem is the ‘trapped within four walls’ feeling that comes of living in hospital accommodation. I recommend looking up sleep hygeine, and seeing if there’s anything you can improve on, though it can be tough when we live in a constricted area. I’d also recommend befriending the other students living there, if at all possible. When I’ve liked who I’m living with, it doesn’t much matter to me what the flat itself is like, because living with people you get on with makes it fun. Whereas if you’re kind of alienated from each other, then it’s more miserable for everyone. Try to get everyone to have tea, or cook together once in a while, it might make a big difference. Perhaps even go out together as a group, particularly if you’re all stuck miles away from wherever you all live during termtime. That’s the most fun part of outfirms; the way everyone kind of bands together when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. I’d also recommend changing your room environment to make it feel more like home. I could never get my friends or colleagues who lived in hospital accommodation for months or even years, but brought so little of themselves to their rooms. Like they looked really bare? That’d make me feel miserable.  The only thing I would not recommend is candles. The fire alarms are always suuuper sensitive. But there are lots of other things you could do. Little things like:

Bring a blanket from home; even if they give you bedding, it’s always really impersonal. Half the time it’s standard hospital stuff.Something from home can make a real difference.

Warm clothes. Sometimes the heating really sucks. One particular winter when I was a student, I ended up wearing a scarf to bed because the heating just wasn’t functional at all during a cold snap.

Fairy lights. I also like fake flowers; they don’t need watering or replacing, and they don’t die.

Houseplants. I have several, and they keep growing, and now I have to think about how I cart a 25cm cactus everywhere, but I still recommend  having some greenery.

Get a couple of nice cushions.

Print photos of all your friends and family. Stick them on the wall. Lots of hospital accommodations have cork boards or something, but otherwise they tend not to care what you do with the wall too much. I have pictures of friends and family from a while back, but also graduation photos to remind me of how hard I worked to get here.

It doesn’t just have to be photos of loved ones. Put up postcards you like. Or inspirational quotes. Or artwork you like. Or pictures of cats. Or pictures of your favourite series, or celebrity crush, or favourite car, or football team, or favourite memes or whatever. It doesn’t actually matter, as long as it’s stuff that makes you happy. In the past, I’ve put up my own art on the walls. Currently, my walls are covered in nice landscape photography, Alphonse Mucha’s art, and cupcakes, all from calendars over the years; I tend to keep the photos I like for putting up when I need cheering up.  I haven’t bothered framing anything nice yet, because its much easier to move around loose paper than framed artworks or photos. One day, when I settle down I’ll have proper framed stuff on the walls. 

Bring something that you do to unwind. Knitting, art materials, ereaders,  games etc. I’ve seen students bring their gaming consoles. I’ve had colleagues bring their keyboards. Have stuff there that helps you to relax. It may be a room you work in, but it also needs to be a room that you can relax in. You can’t really relax if you haven’t brought any of your hobbies with you. For me it’s art materials. I can’t live anywhere without something to create with. It doesn’t even matter if I’m too busy to draw, I still have to have some nearby, just in case I get some spare time.

I bought a colourful plastic tablecover because the tables are usually nasty. Now I look at cupcakes when I’m studying.

Your favourite books or films or CDs etc. You don’t have to bring a huge collection, but it helps to have some stuff that makes you feel happy. I always feel better when my room isn’t just filled with medical books or notes.

Bring the medical books you most find useful, leave the rest at home. You do want at least a few books, because your local hospital library will be much smaller than your university library, and they won’t have everything. If you can leave stuff in your old room or with your parents, it makes it easier because then you don’t need to bring everything.

All hospital accommodation usually has things like table lamps, microwaves or kettles. All of them give you a desk and a chair. There’s usually a dustbin. The flat should have ample cutlery and crockery. If any of this is missing or not working, let accommodation know so they can replace it.

If they don’t have a working kettle, I recommend getting an affordable one from the supermarket, because life is miserable when you can’t even make yourself a cup of tea.

Some basic cleaning kit. Even if there are cleaners (there usually are), I’ve always found that accommodation can be cleaner. Making sure your environment is up to your personal cleanliness standard will probably make you feel better.  Since you can’t burn candles or incense, you can get an infuser or something else to make your room smell nice.

These things can all build a feeling of being ‘home away from home’, particularly if you take them with you from placement to placement. As for acute care, I always found that tricky about being on-call or working in AMU myself. I felt that I never really saw the full effect of our treatment, because no sooner had we started treating, then we shipped them off to another team. On the plus side whenever I did ward cover on-calls, I recognised so many of the patients because they’d all come through our AMU. It made dealing with sickies on the ward a lot easier.  The good news is that you can actually follow patients up with  a modest amount of effort:

When seeing patients, note down their hospital number, initials and DOB. Perhaps ust keep a small pad just for it. Don’t write anything about their clinical conditions, you want this to be anonymised.

Or keep slightly more detailed notes, but keep these in the doctors’ office at hospital. Legally, any identifiable patient information shouldn’t leave the hospital or be left where anyone can see it. Regardless, you should throw the pad in the ‘ confidential waste’ bin when you finish your rotation. Don’t take patient identifiable information with you!

When you have free time, go up to the ward clerk and ask them if they can find out which wards some of your patients ended up on. It’ll take them seconds to find out, if you give them the hospital number.

When you have time, go up to those wards, and after introducing yourself to the ward team, you can either ask them what’s happened to your patients, or ask if you can peruse their notes to catch up. I’d be more than happy for students to be checking up on patients they have seen, and I don’t see why any clinicians or ward staff would object, as long as you’re wearing ID and don’t look suspicious!

 Patients seem genuinely touched to know that you’ve come over to see how they are doing, so you can always pop by and ask the patient themselves.

For me, it’s easier, because I can chase things like blood tests or Xrays on the system myself. But even I have to ask the ward clerk where my patients have gone, and I too sometimes have to get a hold of the day team looking after my patient if I want to check that they are OK. I still do it when I can, because it helps me get feedback on my initial diagnoses. Following up on patients is an important part of our learning process as clinicians, so it’s a great skill to get into the habit of.

I hope this helps :)

[traditional-with-a-twist]

Socratic Method

Day 5 - College AU

After two days of research and compilation, Izzy was finally composing the email containing his most relevant results, when his phone went off. He sighed when he saw the caller ID. Sorry, Matt, you’ll have to wait a little longer… “Hello, Mother, do you need something?” She knew he was working tonight, so it had to be urgent...

**********

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“But I don’t know anything about Russian literature, Mother!”

“Oh, Izzy, you’re so smart; I know you’ll think of something brilliant. Please do this for your mother? I couldn’t find anyone else on such short notice. I just hate to cancel class. My poor students will be so disappointed. And I simply must be there for my dear friend. We’ve known each other since we were children, and this is her only daughter…”

It wasn’t as if he could say no when she asked like that. A two hour seminar on War and Peace was hardly a strain on his resources for his real studies, after all, and Matt had almost cut him out of the project when he’d suggested getting help, so his mother had no idea about the extra demands on his time. It was inconvenient, but he’d manage somehow.

Izzy almost didn’t bother with research. After all, it was halfway through the semester; surely even undergraduates would have learned enough about the Russian literature they were reading by now that there would be no point in trying to catch up in less than twenty-four hours. He would just have to make his mother’s apologies and explain that he was merely there to moderate the seminar’s discussion and record it for his mother, so the pace of the course would not slacken too much by her unexpected absence this week. He didn’t need to participate and he would surely only embarrass himself if he tried.

This decision carried him through the completion of his email and a few rabbit trails before a thought struck him. Why hadn’t he seen it before? This was an opportunity! Izzy scrambled to find the relevant files on his computer and opened them all at once. After he’d started the print queue, he navigated to his favorite journal repository to do a little last minute investigating on Tolstoy. All of a sudden, he couldn’t wait to oversee his mother’s seminar.

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

The bemusement on the undergrads’ faces when he rushed into the room, barely on time, didn’t faze Izzy at first. He was too busy stacking his printed notes as they’d been somewhat jumbled in his bag on the way over. This topic would likely be a bit divergent from whatever discussion his mother had been leading, but her students would surely appreciate the expansion of their knowledge base. He opened his laptop and began to read his prepared introduction.

“….and so, I will be overseeing today’s dialogues, taking notes on your contributions and reporting them back. Therefore, please report your last names before any statements.” An audible creak rustled through the students’ chairs. Izzy paused, tilting his head, but he forged on when no further response was forthcoming. “I have prepared a series of questions concerning the material to help direct the conversation. To begin: War and Peace is somewhat unusual among fiction for the time in its free intermixing of both imagined characters and actual historic personages. It raises the question of whether such a writing style allows the reader a more vivid view of the historical world the author portrays.” Izzy looked at the front row expectantly, fingers poised over his keyboard to note which students contributed the most.

The silence stretched for one minute, and then two. Izzy frowned and looked at his notes, revising the questions in his head. “To put it another way, every book is a window into a certain reality as envisioned by the author. Does a greater correspondence with the mutually experienced reality of history allow readers to experience fictional realities more fully?” He could see the students in the back exchanging glances. Perhaps this group would be unhelpful after all.

Finally, a girl in the back raised her hand. “Ummm, Ikusawa. It may have mattered to Tolstoy’s contemporaries, but I don’t think all that really makes a difference these days.”

The hand of the boy next to her shot up. “Shibayama. I agree! There’s no difference between made-up people and dead people to those of us who are reading this stuff today.”

“Hmmm… Any other thoughts?” Izzy prompted the class. To his regret, his question only prompted a cascade of students falling over themselves to jump on the bandwagon. He cast his eyes upward to the clock on the opposite side of the room. He only had himself to blame for raising his hopes….

Another hand waved in his peripheral vision. He nodded at the exchange student, who’d been outed by her exceptionally pale blond hair and foreign features. “Pasternak! I have a question… This class, we are reading a translation of Voyná i mir. So it is not only the vision of Tolstoy we read but the translator, also?”

Izzy’s fingers froze on his keyboard. The translator… Of course! Any changes to the text could have an impact on the result… The transformation wrought by a translation would hardly be negligent. There had been foreign books among the possible suspects. He couldn’t wait to share this breakthrough with Matt. His mouth finally caught up with his racing thoughts.

“That’s a fascinating question, ummm...” He fixed his gaze on the girl.

“I am Sonya Pasternak,” she announced, giving him a bright smile. She pointed back at him. “And you are the professor’s son, Koushiro Izum—oops.” She covered her mouth with one hand, blushing.

“Ah, yes, Sonya.” For some reason, his mouth was suddenly dry. “Th-thank you for your question. I would agree that one should certainly take the translation into account when considering the text. Could you, uh, perhaps say more on the subject?”

She tilted her head, her smile faltering. “I do not know how to explain the difference but it is different what I read in Russian. The pictures of the…..you say… world?” She gestured, but Izzy could not begin to guess what she was miming. Still, even what little she said confirmed that pursuing this avenue of inquiry could be fruitful.

“Incredible…” he breathed. Murmurs from the other students broke into his thoughts. “Ah, yes! Unless anyone had anything else to contribute to this particular subject, we can move to the next question—” The sighs of relief left no question of the students’ feelings on that and killed the last of Izzy’s aspirations for getting any more insights here.

Still….

***********

“Thank you so much, Izzy. You’re a wonderful son, you know.” He couldn’t help but smile at his mother’s voice. “You’ve helped me so much. I’ll certainly be back in time for next week’s meeting, so you won’t have to take the time again. I do hope that it wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

“Oh, no, of course not, Mother.” Izzy adjusted his headset so she could hear him better, suddenly nervous. “I would greatly appreciate if you could do me a favor in return.”

“Oh, Izzy, you know I would be happy to. What is it?”

“Well, one of your students--” He paused to clear his throat. “I was particularly intrigued by her comments during the discussion, and I was hoping that you might help me arrange a time to converse—”

“Izzy!” Why did she sound so delighted all of a sudden? “If I had guessed…Tell you what, sweetheart, as soon as I get back, I’ll offer to host a dinner for the seminar students. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her then!”

“Well, that sounds agreeable.” He didn’t know why he felt that this conversation had derailed when his mother was only acquiescing to his request.

“I would never want to rush you in these things, Izzy, but I’m so very happy! You’ll have to tell me who it is right away! What’s her name?”

“It’s Sonya Pasternak.” He was definitely missing something here. Hadn’t she said she would just invite the whole seminar? Perhaps she wanted to account for logistics. It would all be rather pointless if that particular student had a scheduling conflict.

“What a good choice! She’s lovely, Izzy. I’m sure you two will hit it off.”

“….What?”

“Sorry, darling, I had better go now! My friend is calling me for something. I’ll call again soon! And you can tell me everything when I get home!”

Izzy stared blankly at his computer screen as the call disconnected.

[miss-m-and-her-blog]

Mr. Perfect (Chapter 16)

TITLE OF STORY: Mr. Perfect CHAPTER: 16 AUTHOR: hiddlestoner-and-cumberbabe WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: AU Gigolo!Tom GENRE: Romance, Fluff, Drama FIC SUMMARY: Mr. Tom Hiddleston is an international gigolo and renowned playboy that has sent London women’s hearts aflutter, and also all the women around the world. He’s charming, sexy , tall, smart, sophisticated and extremely handsome. But with his new client, Julie Rose Trillo, his life will change forever. RATING: T WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Nothing so alarming with this chapter hehe :P FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Almost near to the end ^_^ once again, thanks for all the readers’ support (especially those likes and reblogs uwu) for this fic :D It’s such a big deal for me, though :D Happy reading, dearies ^_^

J.R. has finally made peace with her past, but Tom has yet to make amends with his own future. Will that future ever involve J.R. along the way?

-----

                                                    The familiar rain of Westminster greeted J.R. when she arrived in London.

Ah, here’s the gloomy ambiance of Merry Old London. She thought to herself as the soft pour of the rain patted against the clear windows of Heathrow.

She was met by Mr. Poe, Martin’s chauffeur. As they drove away from the airport, he asked J.R. if she wanted to return to her flat.

But she shook her head, “Please, take me to St. Matthew’s first.”

“The cemetery or the church?”

Before answering, J.R. took out the tin box from her bag, then, “The cemetery.”

On the way, she asked Poe, “Mr. Poe, do you have motor oil or anything that can burn?”

Mr. Poe suddenly took a quick look-back at J.R. “What for, Ms. J.R.?”

“Just give me what I need. You’ll see when we get there.”

Poe could only nod in reply and say nothing about what she had just asked.

After a few miles from the airport, they made a turn that leads to St. Matthew’s They passed by the church and the end of the road lead them to the graveyard.

Their car stopped by a curb, and there, J.R. got down from it.  But as soon as she came out, the rain started to pour steadily again.

“Ms. J.R., let me get you an umbrella.” Mr. Poe said to J.R. as he got out of the driver’s seat and to J.R.

J.R. took the umbrella and she started walking down the graveyard.

The dewy grasses touched the soles of her shoes, while the soft rain trickled into her umbrella. She was told that Nathan’s grave was at the farther side of the park, with a tombstone engraved in black marble.

Her eyes immediately saw it as she approached that side of the graveyard, but with her heart thumping loudly on her chest. It was as if she’s meeting him for the first time from a very long absence.

J.R. felt her hands shake as she held the tin box, but when she reached Nathan’s tombstone; all of her tensed emotions, diffused.

The tombstone said,

Nathaniel Edward Henderson September 9, 1984-August 22, 2014. A beloved son and brother. A love lost.

The last part of his epitaph made her lips quiver as she broke out into tears. J.R. felt her knees being pulled down on to his grave.

“Babe. My Nathan. I’m here.” Her voice came out like a faint cry in the midst of the rain.

Then she placed the tin box on the trimmed grass that grew on his graveyard. The longer she stared at his name, the more the memories are coming back at her.  She felt worse when she couldn’t remember anything, but now all of it are coming back to her; it’s like she’s reliving her bad dreams all over again.

But, J.R. took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a while. And there, she is ready.

“You had a letter written for me. That’s so you, Nathan. Expressing yourself through words.” She tried to joke even though her tears are falling faster than the raindrops.

She wiped them off with her sleeve then straightened herself up, “Anyways– You told me that I move on. You even said that to love someone else– and also to forget about you… I can’t forget about you. I will always remember you.”

She now placed the tin box on the grass and said, “But, I will make a promise to you– I’ll move on. Still, I will never, ever forget again my memories with you. I promise, Nathan.”

J.R. laid down her umbrella to the side until she felt the rain come down on her, then she opened the tin box. And with all of her strength, she poured the flammable oil that she asked from Mr. Poe at the things inside the box.

Goodbye, Mr. Henderson. She thought.

Then, she set the contents of the box on fire.

J.R. closed her eyes and faced the skies. The rain fell on her face and on her body and she felt, free.

She may have destroyed all of the things that connects her with Nathan; but it is the only way to set herself free.  After a while, Mr. Poe saw her drenched in the rain and the box burning. And so he ran up to her and gave her his jacket.

“Ms. J.R., whatever you are doing--if that’s some kind of ritual or what.” Poe exclaimed.

J.R. slowly smiled, then, “I am done. Take me back to my flat, please. I’ll meet with my brother tomorrow.”

Poe only nodded in reply and he took her in with the umbrella.

Finally, there is nothing that holds J.R. back anymore.

—-

A few days after…

He grunted as he frustratingly rearranged the bills inside the overflowing luggage.

Tom placed the money back that he had taken from Martin’s payment, and he made sure that it’s all complete and taken back.

Then after a while, he heard his room door swing by with Ajay leaning on at the doorway.

“I thought you had a customer up here with all of your grunting and sighing.” He sarcastically remarked.

A few seconds later, Rosa ran into the room; only to position herself on top of the luggage and started purring and blinking at Tom.

“Come on, you fur-ball, get down from there.” Tom irritatingly sighed.

“Maybe Rosa wants the cash for herself.” Ajay joked.

Tom didn’t even gave a snicker to his joke and only scooped up his cat and place her down on the floor.

“Why are you even taking that back to Sir McLeod anyway?” He asked Tom.

Finally, Tom got to zip the luggage up that fitted well with no sign that it’s about to pop.

“Because, my good friend– I don’t deserve this money.” Tom replied.

“What?” Ajay blurted out.

Tom turned towards him and answered, “I don’t deserve any cent from that. J.R. regained her memories when she crashed her car. I didn’t do anything.”

“Ooh, don’t be too harsh on yourself, man.” Ajay then flopped down on Tom’s large bean bag.

Tom only shrugged then he placed down the luggage. “And besides, I should forget about her. I should live on with my life. She must be moving on now too.” he sat on edge of his bed and Rosa then climbed on to his lap for a scratching behind the ears.

“I think you’re the one who needs to have an Amnesia right now.” Ajay teased, and Tom retaliated with a thrown pillow.

“But why? Why do you have to forget about J.R.? I mean, you like her, don’t you?” Ajay asked.

Tom laid back on his bed and inhaled sharply.

“I just don’t like her, mate; I love her.”

Ajay’s eyes widened and the both of them were quiet for a while. Tom closed his eyes, then he heard Ajay say, “Then go for her. Tell her the truth.”

Tom sat up, “Do you think it’s that easy? Jay, she told me to stay away.”

“After her incident. Come on, Tom, she was confused that time. If you tell her what you really feel, then maybe she’ll tell you that she feels the same way.”

Tom brows furrowed, “How did you became so expert about relationships?”

“Bailey and I talk out our feelings.” Ajay explained, then Rosa now went to him to be cuddled.

“Oh.” Tom only nodded.

Tom’s gaze fell again on the luggage, “I’ll bring that over to Martin’s office this tomorrow morning.”

“Good luck, man.” Ajay only winked at him.

Tom only went quiet as he thought about what Ajay said. If only it was that easy; to tell J.R. what he really feels.

But how could he when he knows that J.R. is in the process of moving on? How could Tom be able to do it?

—–

“Just right up the corner, mate.” Tom instructed the Uber driver on where to pull out. He paid his fare before getting out of the car, and along with the heavy luggage loaded with money.

And there in front of him stood the skyscraper of Renovis. Tom still remember that almost a few months ago when Martin hired him. And he could perfectly remember the first time he saw J.R.’s picture.

When he entered the reception hall, he was greeted by the same woman, but this time, he isn’t accompanied by Mason and McCord.

Tom gave an ID in exchange for a visitor’s ID, then, the woman noticed his luggage.

“You’re not carrying a person inside that, are you, luv?” She quipped.

“Nope. Just something important.” Tom replied sweetly.

This made the woman giggle and her kinky hair shake, “All right. Sir McLeod’s office is at the 20th. Off you go, then.”

“Thanks very much.” Tom replied with a nod.

He made his way into the elevator and pushed the button that said 20th. On the way, the elevator stopped at 11th, and a group of people came in. Then, he noticed someone that stood at the front

He held his breath as he recognized that back of that head; it must be J.R.

Is that her? Is it J.R.? He asked himself.

Only to see that it was not J.R. at all; just another woman who had the same hair as J.R. does.

But if only he could know, J.R. doesn’t wear her hair down anymore like she used to as she is now the O.I.C. and soon to be Department Head of the Human Resource.

And meanwhile, at the 19th floor, J.R. had just arrived. As she walked into the front lobby and into the hallway of cubicles; her assistants are already in place to greet her for the morning.

“Janice, how are the memos coming up?” J.R. asked as she and her assistants followed her towards her office.

“Already printed and ready for your signature, Ma'am.” Janice replied.

“Bertie, have you told Mrs. Purefoy about the new format of the employee evaluation forms?” She now turned to the bespectacled man with a moustache that is walking beside her.

“It’s all done, Ma'am. Mrs. Purefoy already has a copy.” He then checked something out of his notes.

Then, a woman, just as tall as J.R., almost ran into her but stopped just exactly at the right moment to hand J.R. a cup of coffee.

“Ma'am. Espresso with no sugar.” Natalie offered.

J.R. took it quickly and had a sip, and she narrowed her eyes at Natalie after.

“This is so damn good, Natalie.” J.R. had a cheerful tone that lifted Natalie’s spirits up.

“I’m glad that you liked it, Ma'am.” She replied giddily.

When they arrived at the door of her office she quickly turned as she remembered something,

“By the way, has my brother arrived?” She asked the three of them.

But before they could answer, J.R. said, “On second thought, I’ll just check on him later, myself.” And she closed the door with a smile at them.

Bertie exhaled deeply, “Well, let’s get to work. Chop, chop, ladies.”

—-

Tom carried the luggage so it wouldn’t drag on at the carpet-covered floor of the 20th. When he approached the table of Martin’s secretary, she greeted him,

“I know you– Mr. Hiddleston. What brings you here?” Her puffy eyes lit up when they met glances.

“Hi there, uhm, Ms. Davenport. Is Sir McLeod in?” Tom asked courteously.

She shook her head then, “He’s still with a investors’ meeting at the 30th. But he’ll be back at 12, would you like to wait for him?”

Tom gestured with his hands and said, “Oh no! It’s better that he doesn’t see me at all. Anyways, I’m giving him back the payment he gave me– for my services.” And he tapped the luggage.

“All of it? But, Sir McLeod already took that from his personal account–”

“But I don’t need it, Ms. Davenport. I’m giving it back.” Tom insisted.

But Ms. Davenport asked again, “But why?”

Tom sighed and looked away, “I don’t deserve this money. I did it in the first place not because of the money; I did it for J.R.”

They went quiet for a while. But Tom wanted his visit to be quick and so, “I’ll be going now. Please tell Martin I said Hi.” And then, he turned his back on the secretary and headed for the elevator door.

The moment he went down, Tom would never realize who has come up from the 19th through the stairs; it was J.R..

She headed directly at Martin’s office when she saw Ms. Davenport dragging a large luggage inside.

“Whatever is that, Ms. Davenport?” She pointed out at the luggage.

“It’s a returned payment for Sir McLeod.” Then she huffed as she tugged on the handle of the luggage.

“From whom?” J.R. asked, and she sounded confused.

“Mr. Hiddleston–” And Ms.Davenport took the luggage behind the doorway of Martin’s office.

“Tom? Tom Hiddleston?” J.R. inquired curiously.

“Yes. That escort your brother hired. He said that he doesn’t deserve the payment and that he did his job because of you.”

For a while, J.R. felt her heart stop. She asked herself, why would someone like him say such things? That he did it because of her? She felt a warm feeling in her chest that she tried to dismiss.  

J.R. cleared her throat “I’ll be going now. Please just inform me if Kuya has arrived.”

“Will do, Ms. J.R..”

She continued walking down the stairs but she felt dazed. She kept asking herself why would Tom return such a great amount. J.R. suddenly questioned herself; does it mean that she meant something far greater to Tom than she could know? Did Tom fell in love with her, truly?

J.R. tried to shake away those thoughts but she only found herself pondering as she leaned her back flat on the wall.

She wondered, maybe Tom was just being kind. But there is an another side in her telling her that Tom is being more than kind to give back all the money.

Don’t be stupid. He’s an escort. They’re not supposed to fall in love with their clients. She explained to herself. Her mind may accept that answer, but her heart does not.

At the ground floor, Tom is now contemplating on what he would say to Ajay that he never got the chance to talk to J.R. But even if he did, Tom would only lose it and tell J.R. that he loves her right there and then.

It's most likely I would do just that. But I don’t want to embarrass myself either.

Tom could only shake his head and chuckle to himself. As he is about to pass by the reception hall, he saw something along a table, surrounded by two couches.

It was a thick ream of small flyers that had something written on it that caught his attention. The flyer is crafted with the words Job Fair.

Tom went over the table to pick up the flyer. His eyes searched for something that he felt like he wanted to see. What he only read from the start to finish are the companies that are going to participate; still sponsored by Renovis. Tom was about to put down the flyer until he saw something that surprised him.

Opening remarks to be spoken by the new HR Department Head, Ms. Julie Rose Trillo.

Tom’s whole body froze as he tried to read that over and over again.

J.R. will be there. She will be there… And I need to see her.

He immediately placed the flyer on his pocket, and paused for a while before leaving. But he went on his way; with a bright smile on his face as he left the building. He knows that he will see J.R. again, and that he will make it happen no matter what.