#hate against indians is too fucking normalized these days

[livelaughlovechai]

If you're a poc who hates on other poc’s, sincerely, go fuck yourself🥰😘😍💋

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[sword-of-summer]

All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

7.

Frowning at Mel “stop messing around, if you’re going to plan on being an active auntie in my baby’ life I don’t want games” Mel likes to massage coco butter on my stomach, which I don’t mid because then it saves me from doing it and I can just relax but she is taking forever and is playing around by drawing things on my stomach, stifling out a yawn as I rested my head back on the pillow “I swear to god Melissa!” I shouted “you got me shouting now, stop it” Mel just laughed at me, she is laughing, and I am annoyed “I can’t believe how amazing the scan pictures came out now, it’s creepy but cute. I cried when she said the baby finger is in its mouth, like” reaching to my side table “look at it, literally has my forehead” looking at my scan picture “chile, forehead for days. Chris has a receding fucking hairline and your hairline is no different, the baby has no choice but to have a big forehead and hairline starting from the back” my mouth fell open “oopss, sorry” she isn’t wrong but still “I hate you, I would kick you but you are being helpful” smiling at my scan picture, this just makes me so happy. Like this is my baby right now in my stomach just relaxing, I am fucking mind blown by how I am bringing life to the world. We spoke on so much, the difficulties that could happen but I am going all natural, I don’t want nobody cutting into me unless it is at a point where I could die but I am all for the natural thing “yeah, I heard your mom saying that you are going natural? I mean I am not the person to say anything but isn’t it better just cutting and then out it comes?” placing the scan picture on my chest “I think not, unless I could die or my baby could die then I will back down but I want to go through it normally, I don’t want to be lazy and just lay there. I am like every other woman; I don’t care what anyone says. I said it to Doctor Wen, she explained the reason why they would cut me open if they needed but she is happy for me to do natural and I agreed on the reasons why, but I think a lot of famous women just do the easier option to not change anything and to make it as perfect as possible, I am not for that. If that baby is stretching my pussy then so be it. My only baby anyways” Mel pulled a face as she shuffled away and sat on the bed “I would rather be cut open, I am lazy like that” shaking my head at Mel “get pregnant, we can have baby play dates” poking my bottom lip out “no way sis, your baby is my baby too. Just you go through the pain” Mel cackled; she is not shit.

I have the biggest clothes I can wear right now; I am leaving the home after all these weeks and I am feeling nervous about it all “are we all ready?” walking out of my room, popping my scan picture in my bag “we are, so we are going straight to the hanger. I have arranged it, I know they like doing spot checks but not today, I mean we can’t have you getting searched with the baby bump. No spot check, I have arranged it that we are arriving” Jen pointed at me as she walked over to me “good, I am glad. I think I would be devastated if that were to happen, I do not need that right now. So, we have J. Cole and Kendrick performing at the ball, exciting right? All I had to do was text them, they both said yes. I am just so nervous; I feel sick now all over again but let’s go” Rich is staring at me “what?” I said to him “just weird to see you like this, I have been working with you for years” pulling a face at him “do I look pregnant? Am I fat to you?” Rich’ face dropped “no uh, I am not saying that just that you look well” side eyeing him “your cheeks are fuller sis” hitting Ja’ shoulder as I walked out of the house.

I am so excited to see what Dennis has done, he has been working hard on this. He wants me to be happy about it but I am, I am just feeling hormonal about things. I had to make the pilot and flight attendant sign a NDA because I want to be free on my jet and not hiding, also I needed the bed to be made and laying down will expose what I am hiding behind this huge thing “if you complain about this now I will just quit” Dennis placed his MacBook in front of me “I didn’t complain, I just stated that my voice didn’t sound right” Dennis rolled his eyes “just please, watch it. Pretend you’re a fan, you get the notification, no caption and this came up” looking at Jen before pressing play, I hate my face “Ja is right” my face looks fuller “no he is not, you look so good Robyn. You look so happy, I love it, you can tell you got that pregnancy skin” watching the video play on, just images of me smiling “oh god, it sounds like I am adding to my skin care. The fans are going to hate me, they really are”  the video cuts to me walking towards the bathroom “it’s now time to enter a new journey for me, and for the new life that was created” I mimicked the words I said as the video played on and the time lapse of the images I took “oh god, as a fan I would be shook. Like my heart is beating hard against my chest, they are going to be shocked. It’s calming though. The way I announce it is very calming, but it honestly looks like I am announcing a new skin product, oh god. I am happy with it Dennis, yes” sitting back smiling “I am” I said again “I was thinking about my extended family members and not telling them, they will find out like this also but it needs to be so tight. I mean it will be the same with the Chris thing, I can’t risk telling too much to so many people. The circle needs to be closed” watching Dennis take his laptop “what if Chris wants to tell?” Jen asked “he needs to not, that is something I will obviously take that up with him or if he says don’t care and I rather not get involved” Jen laughed “you wish, he will be like an excited puppy but that is interesting to hear, I think you both need to have this deep conversation and you won’t be drunk or high” I wish I could get drunk or high “I miss that” I mumbled saying.

Mel laid next to me on the bed that was made on the jet, I feel a little sore and tired so I knew that I would need the bed made “do you all take turns in cuddling me? Am I that big?” Mel laughed out, she is laughing but I think it is true “it’s not that, I promise so I was thinking if we invite Chris to the ball since you know, he is you know” Mel looked at my stomach and then at me, she proceeded to wink at me “erm, I am not sure about that. I am not being funny but it’s already a mess and I am adding to it, I can’t just invite him and then have him alone, he will then bring his friends. Just keep it away, not there. Not when this will be happening, everyone is going to be at me about it already, the same tired old conversation. I disagree, he has too much on anyways” Mel rolled her eyes at me “you do know you are going to have to face him” looking away from Mel “wish I didn’t need too” I said to myself “then don’t, he will be none the wiser. Pray to the gods it doesn’t look like him, I mean you don’t need too” shaking my head “I am not like that, it’s just difficult ok. He is a mess; I keep stalking him!” I shouted so loudly “ok, calm down. Well whatever you want then I am here” she needs to just support me in this plan, it may be a little crazy but I just need to do it my way and not what people around me want because it will not work like they want “I am intrigued to know what his reaction will be, will it be happy, sad, hateful. I mean it’s not the perfect scenario” she is telling me like I don’t know that.

Sitting on the bed Indian style with my hand naturally on my stomach, I am just forever doing this now, I am used to it “I hate this, I hate that Jen and Mel both know a secret that I want to know. Like you both know the sex of my child, I really don’t want a gender reveal just tell me!” I half shouted “she’s going to be cute like you, I know already” Ja is acting like anyone will tell him shit “I know my girls, they wouldn’t tell you because I would bully you into telling me so good try baldie. Is it what I want? Like I have been always saying a girl?” Mel and Jen are not giving me much “this will be my only baby, and I pray for a healthy baby but a girl, just let it be? I mean I won’t be upset but still, just a mini me, you know” I want them to give me something, they ain’t giving me shit “soon, Mexico and the family. We going to reveal it, have a little get together. It will be cute, stop being annoying. Then we can have a baby shower in London, or shall we go Spain? I don’t know but we going to party, every day with you” Jen said, but I don’t want that I just would like to know what it is “mom! You said you have a feeling, what is the feeling!” getting off of the bed “look at my stomach shape and tell me?” turning to the side “baby, can’t you just wait. I don’t know what it is” rolling my eyes “just a guess, come on? You always do this, you say oh the stomach is this shape so it’s whatever” my mom is annoying when she does it to every one else “ok, ok. I think” she squinted her eyes “a boy” my mom pointed “ok, her opinion is irrelevant now” I joked “any more takers, what are we saying?” I got everyone looking at me now, hearing a mixture of girl and boy “so girl then, thank you” I laughed to myself “but if it’s a boy then there is always adoption, I am joking. I just want my baby healthy so don’t mind me” sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

I caught myself falling asleep but for the lighter in my hand, it was too late. It already slipped out of my hand and onto the ground floor. Moving back from the balcony, I didn’t realise I was falling asleep but another day at the Brown house. I need to finish off my art downstairs now, walking back into my bedroom. Placing my feet in my slides as I closed my bedroom door, I was supposed to go to Gunna’ party tonight but I declined, I wasn’t in the mood but I think “here they are” I stopped to say to myself, the niggas are back home, I mean my home “good party?” jumping down the last of the stairs nearly falling down but I caught myself “it was, got some girls back. They wanted to come” nodding my head “step right up, mobiles that side, papers on the other side. Then we can all have fun is that you? Krista? Oh wow, you still riding in the back of niggas cars now” Krista walked over to me “shut up” hugging her “you still the same old Chris, sign the papers” I laughed stepping back from the hug “well I got to be, but you still need to sign the papers. Keep your mobile though” winking at her “oh privileges then? I see how it is” she walked off, watching her walk off with the other girls, about seven others. Hoody hit my arm “she asked to come here” he said in a whisper “she missed the D, they all do” I laughed walking off.

Blunt for breakfast and it hasn’t even hit nine yet “your home is amazing, like with all the new graffiti. You haven’t just done random things like always” moving the blunt back, placing the spray can on the ground “I try” blowing the smoke out from my lips “you not going in the pool like the rest? Showcasing booties for the niggas to want?” I pointed laughing “why do I need to do that when you already seen it” she got a point “they doing that for you Chris, you know that” I shrugged “better off going with someone I remember, vaguely. It wasn’t memorable” Krista side eyed me “just like Amikka, you remember that too” I blew out air all wide eyed “to be fair I don’t actually remember many pussies I’ve had. Select few” Krista laughed “nothing has changed with you Chris, wow. I actually just came to see you, I am not jumping in no pool and showing my ass” nodding my head “then it was pointless you coming” looking over at the girls in the pool “they all sucking and licking on each other too, damn. But, let me mind my business, it was good you come out though. You can relax here or whatever” let me go back to my spray painting.

I was shocked to see Krista still here, I guess it is because Amikka gone “still here?” sitting down on the couch across from her “problem?” shaking my head “nope, why though? You dogged me out?” I mean she did “rich coming from you, you were having several women on the go, I was done. I thought you were with Amikka, so yeah” shaking my head “I have always been single, I show love. People don’t get that” my phone vibrated in my pocket “oh is that what it is, but she said you was with her” getting my phone out from my pocket “nope” seeing a Instagram message from Mel, this is not like her. Tapping on the message and unlocking my phone “least she is back where she belongs, Germany” I just laughed reading the message from Mel, squinting my eyes ‘Come to the Diamond Ball, plus one (Mijo) of course but you’re invited if you would like to come. You’re with me, let me know’ I am confused, Melissa is inviting me to an event where niggas are stuck up their own ass, I don’t fuck with any of those people and on top of that Robyn is foul so no, let me message back nicely, I don’t want to see her face after that night ‘I love you Mel, you my sister FOREVER but Robyn is foul. She KNOW what she did, if she wants her drunken talks with sex tell her go elsewhere, not blaming you! Trust me, I have other plans either way’ pressing send on the message “you seem angry?” Krista asked “women are not nice, that is all” locking my phone and placing it to the side of me, I won’t be seeing that, full of fake industry people that don’t like me but smile in my face, this is why I don’t go to award shows, fuck that. Robyn loves that shit and is too far up their asses to even see real, I’m not that.

[supero1726-mcu]

Avengers in Lockdown

Avengers in Lockdown was one of my first fanfictions, and it (unsurprisingly) follows Tony, Peter and the gang. I really enjoyed writing this, and hope you enjoy this as much as me!

Prologue 

Peter Parker lent back in his chair and watched as his Spanish teacher droned on about something he should be listening to. Leaning down, he grabbed his half-bitten biro from the corner of his desk and scribbled a new formula in the corner of his notebook. Finally, his spurt of inspiration died, and he was reduced to doodling a small spider in the corner of his book, which muddled into MJ. Everything seemed to muddle into MJ nowadays, be it his formulas or his lab session with Tony. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if she liked him, knew if he was Spider-Man or both. It was MJ, she was always unpredictable. Looking up, he found his teacher leaning over his desk with a threatening expression on his face. “Mr Parker, what have I told you about…” he was saved by the crackling of Tannoy and a stern voiced Principal Morita. He had been wondering when this would come, the news had been full of it. May had been worried that Ellis would bring this in – and that the WHO would start to ask the US to join the regulations that had been implemented across the globe. Of course the new Ross, who was still standing staunchly in Tony’s way of everything possible, was in the process of ignoring everything he said, especially about the possibility of a vaccine being created by him and Bruce (with a little help from Peter of course!), and had decided to plough ahead. So, it was really no surprise when Morita had said that Ellis was to give a briefing at 5, and that they were all welcome to stay and watch with their friends, after all, it might be the last time. The briefings had been going for a while, but they had all had the feeling that there was going to be the last normal day for a while, and so he grabbed his phone to say that he was staying.

Pepper stormed out of the meeting, eyes firmly on the door to her office. If one more person tried to catch her and ask her about something she had no idea about, she was going to scream. The board wanted to know about PPE, Tony wanted to know what Ellis was saying about a vaccine, Ellis wanted to know what Tony was doing about a vaccine. Added to the fact the constantly had to deal with incessant Avengers business when her Fiancé messed up, it was all a bit too much. Shutting the door behind her and leaning on the table, she picked up a pile of papers asking what she was going to do if they were put in lockdown. Sometimes she wondered about all of this. When she had first started being the CEO of a trans-national company it had been electrifying, once she had got over the fact it was not one of Tony’s jokes, but she was approaching her 50’s, and she had no time left, and with Tony being Tony… things could go anywhere. The pressure was getting to her. The press where picking up on their every move, guessing on the destination, the dress, best man, flower girl… anything that could be predicted by means of sheer will and brute force. She was used to having no private life, but since she announced her engagement, she had not been left alone. Grabbing a receiver, she muttered for some poor assistant to take the meeting, she was done.

Ellis sat on his chair, surveying the rows of press sitting in 2m distance and watching as he took a sip from a glass of water. The press clicked a feverishly with cameras and notebooks, some clutched laptops. “Hello. We have come to the point in time where there are two options, two sides to the same, I admit frightening coin. With tangible threats, the Avengers can field it with ease, they are recruiting new members, and we do have an army. However, this is a war with something that has no body, nothing that we can punch or watch as it crumbles under a wave of gunfire. This is no war for an army, this is a war for science. We have advanced scientists; Dr Banner is a notable example of one that is involved with both the physical and scientific battles, but even the great Dr Banner does not have a miracle vaccine, although I am assured by both him and Stark that they have a team on both a vaccine and manufacture of PPE.” He stops and looks out into the audience; someone clears their throat and most of the auditorium turn to stare at the poor man. “This,” He states with an ashen face and red rimmed eyes. “is a war, and so we will have to treat it as such. Our weapons are the PPE, our help is to stay home. As such I am recommending that all governors suspend schools indefinitely starting on Friday. We will issue guidelines on whom is considered essential, and who needs to work from home. Ladies and Gentlemen.” He stares at the camera, watching as the lens focuses in on him. “This is the single defining moment of our generation. I will endeavour to ensure the safety of our nation. That will be all. I will not be answering questions.” He stalked behind the curtain, hoping the press hadn’t noticed his trembling hand.

Peter was not patrolling anymore. He had agreed to stop since the evidence suggested that, even if he was immune, he could still be a carrier. So now he spent his nights learning how to cook, playing board games and chatting to Ned over the phone. He almost wished he had a little more time like this, where he felt he had a life outside of school and swinging round New York. He was half expecting May to be at the door waiting for him, but she was at the table, clutching her phone. “Honey…” “What is it.” Peter looked worriedly into her eyes, not catching the glint that had been a solitary tear running down her face. “I’ve been classified Essential.” “Well then… why are you crying.” “Sweetie, I don’t want you in the house with me. I’m going to be around people who are at risk of being infected, or worse. Pete. I can’t let you stay here. I morally can’t do it. Call him.” “What.” Peter caught May’s eye. “Who.” “Call Tony. Please Pete. I can’t do it. You have somewhere safe to go, someone safe to be with, and I can’t watch you. We’ll call and chat and face time, but if I came home and got you sick…” “I can’t get…” “We don’t know that.” She was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want this to be over. Call him.” So, Peter Parker walked to the sofa where he had put his phone and pressed the button for Tony Stark on his interface. He would never answer, but sure as luck would have it, Tony’s voice rang sure and clear down the line. “Hey Kiddo. What do you need?”

Tony Stark was having a shitty day. On Cho and Bruce’s orders he had suspended being Iron Man for the time being, and due to him still having problems where the ARC reactor was extracted, ha was now tower locked. He had told the public to do their bit, he had told Steve Rogers to “fuck off.”. Steve was immune to most things, being a super soldier and all. Since he had pardoned the rogues and brought back the tower after the disastrous incident with the vulture, he had let them stay, equipped with everything he could provide. And they were happy in a sense, no mass fighting breaking out, no notable divides, and then Steve bought Bucky back… and everything changed. Tony knew that it hadn’t been Bucky that killed his parents but there was something in him that hated the thought of housing his mother’s murderer, whether conscious or not. His wrench clattered to the ground, and he surveyed his handy work. DUM-E was now sporting a stronger, more durable arm, and a new fire extinguisher. He was going soft and when Friday’s voice rang “Call from Peter Parker.”, he snatched it up.

Sam had long wanted to learn the guitar, and now him and Clint were sitting back to back, each clutching identical acoustic guitars. It was one thing to be a bad guitarist at home alone, but now they were in quarantine, and now everyone in the tower and surrounding area could hear him and Clint strumming clumsily. Bucky leaned against the door, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I was lured up here by the sounds of Sam in pain.” Crossing the room, he deftly snatched a pluck out of Sam’s clumsy fingers, walking out of the room. “Hey, maybe a break will do you good.”

Dinner at the tower was seldom easy. For one thing, living with more than 6 people in the same house at once made them more than flatmates, it made them almost family. For another they all wanted different things, and the select cooks could only rustle up a few dishes, which meant a lot of bewildered Pizza and Indian vans drawing up at Stark Tower at least once a day. The only competent chefs in the building had quickly turned out to be Steve, Bucky and Tony (who as we all know can make good pasta!), with both Nat and Clint setting fire to the Stove, and scaring the life out of someone who had taken Clint’s space in the vents. Tonight, sitting at the long table was Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, Bucky and Nat. There was no sign of Tony; who had been seen practically running to one of his discreet cars not an hour earlier, Pepper, who rarely had time to spare, Bruce had been in the lab on a bender with the vaccine issue, Scott and Hope were away, and Thor was ‘off world’ – whatever that meant. “Miss me.” Steve turned to the door, and saw a dishevelled looking Tony standing there, clutching a battered suitcase and an impossibly wide smile. “Why are you so late?” “Had some things to pick up.” “What do you mean.” A boy stepped out behind him. He couldn’t have been than 16, in fact he looked younger, but he bore a small resemblance to Tony, with wide intelligent eyes, and hands that seemed to be fiddling with something. “Avengers meet Peter… again. Peter meet the Avengers.” “Hi.” Sam stared at him, taking in his proportions. “Hello Spider-kid.” Said Nat.

[rvwchck]

tweet at first sight

It was one tweet. Not even all 280 characters. Just the simple phrase “I feel like @jamiethebee would be down to egg a house for his fans. just saying”.

I didn’t have more than 500 followers on Twitter, and those included only people from my school. It wasn’t even a fan account, nor was it even remotely related with Jamie Lee Oliver. 

So naturally, when I saw his username in my DMs, my stomach almost fell out of my ass. Keyword being almost.

I screamed, and I did it loud. Thankfully, I was alone in my apartment, because having my roommate witness my prepubescent stunt would have been enough for me to move out. Which sounds serious when it comes from a college graduate living in Southern California.

8:06 AM

@jamiethebee: pick your poison.

tap to download attachment.

He had sent me a picture from the egg section in what appeared to be Walmart. I decided it was better not to answer, considering I was late for what seemed to be the millionth job interview of the week. Nobody said life after graduation would be so hard. Especially after enduring the hell that is living in a dorm the size of a shoebox. 

Looking at my appearance in the mirror confirmed that I would not, in fact, get hired today. It may have to do with the fact that between my now coffee-stained shirt and red pants along with my rusty red hair made me look like a war zone. Or a used tampon. Or both. 

Clearly L’Oreal Colorista was not the best hair dye in the market. 

I glanced down at my phone, partly wondering if I had any new texts from Leo—or as I liked to call him after that cheating incident, Satan—and partly to see if any other celebrities had graced my inbox. None of those scenarios had happened, and I was now 10 minutes late. 

Just when I was rushing out of the door, my roommate opened the door with a slam and proceeded to face plant onto the couch. 

Well, I thought, at least I’m not in med school. 

***

I somehow managed to miss the train and the bus. All in a 15 minute span. Which meant I was 25 minutes late for the interview. It would be a miracle if I even got to announce my name, or hand in my resume.

My hair was completely disheveled and one of my shoes had come off in the middle of the street, meaning my pizza socks were on full display once I arrived to the building of Pyramid Publishing. The receptionist directed me to the 16th floor, where everything was white, or really pale beige. 

I sat on one of the couches ,well, rested my back for half a second before I was interrupted. 

“Lisa Martin? Sorry for the long wait, we had some issues with the air conditioning” A tall secretary poked her head from one of the offices in the waiting area.

I was not a true believer, but God had just done me a solid.

11:30 AM

@jamiethebee: so you discover a 

dark truth about me and then you 

leave me on read?

@jamiethebee: wow, RUDE. 

I hid my phone in my purse, my heart beating at an alarming rate against my chest. I was still having a hard time believing the Jamie Lee Oliver had slid into my DMs and went to the produce section of the grocery store for me. The fact that he had the audacity to call me out was also making my brain go haywire trying to come up with a decent answer.

All while struggling to pay attention to the code of ethics of the company. Because yes, I had just gotten hired to be an editor for Pyramid Publishing. 

“The idea Miss Martin, is for you to have a week to get to know the office and the way things work around here before you fully immerse in what is a typical schedule of an editor in Pyramid Publishing” The man, Gregory Truman, had a smooth voice and gave off an aura of authority, partly because of the way he was seated, and partly because his secretary seemed to be in awe every time he opened his mouth to speak.  

I nodded along completely distracted, smiling every once in a while to show that I was happy for the opportunity I had just been given. After four years of majoring in English and getting tired of hearing that it would be impossible to find any job, I had just landed the job of my dreams.  Which sounds amazing, but it really consists of earning enough to cover my part of the rent and to afford one or two nights out every once in a while. 

After agreeing to come back tomorrow morning to start my briefings, I left the building and headed for the bus station. I was about to acknowledge my Twitter notifications, which seemed to be glaring at me, when my roommate called.

To any person this would come across as normal behaviour, however when you live with a med school student who lives and breathes for their career, you get used to not hearing from them for days at a time. No news, good news right?.

“What’s up buttercup?” I answered cheerfully nonetheless. Amanda tends to be overly dramatic and extremely analytic of phone and text conversations. She has flipped out on me for answering the phone with a simple ‘hey’, claiming that she thought I was mad at her and didn’t want to live with her anymore because she forgets to hang her towels. Her words, not mine.

“Yeah, yeah, no time for greetings. Listen the curry exploded all over the kitchen” I was once again, rendered speechless. 

Amanda comes from an Indian family that loves to travel and above all, loves to eat. Her recipe book is overflowing and constantly getting thicker. However, her skills are not getting any better. Last week she managed to turn the butter on fire while attempting to melt it in the microwave. Who knows how she managed to do that.

“Okay so there’s no need for me to buy more oils for the diffuser, is that what you’re saying?” I would have worried if it was another person, but Amanda tends to worry a little too much over everything and I don’t want her to beat herself up anymore over this.

“No Lisa I’m serious like I don’t even know where to start cleaning and I’ve probably ruined the kitchen and we won’t be able to repare it and I just know that you’ll want to move out because of this and—“

“Okay this is what you’ll do. You’re going to go to the wine cabinet and open a bottle of rose, you know the one you like, and you’re going to calm down and then start cleaning. First the floor so you don’t keep making a bigger mess, then the counters and so on. Mandy, seriously its not the end of the world, did you at least get to have lunch?” I heard a grunt, then a sigh. Not good.

“Obviously not Lisa, I’m on call tonight apparently. I don’t even understand what they want me there for since I just worked the morning shift two days in a row and I’m not even a real doctor yet. Like what the fuck? This is abuse” 

“Okay babe, see you at home!” I hung up with a smile on my face, determined to make something out of today other than cleaning curry with Amanda. So I opened Twitter. 

12:21 PM

@misalartin: pity, i only shop organic. 

@misalartin: excessive hormones,

you know?

Not even thirty minutes had passed when he replied.

12:43 PM

@jamiethebee: so tell me when 

and where.

tap to download attachment.

It was then I realized I had not stopped internally screaming since 8 am, because it was the only way to explain how I had not fainted yet. 

Jamie Lee Oliver had been my celebrity crush ever since I knew how to turn the tv on. He had started out as a child star in my favorite tv show Morgan’s Backyard, and then had gotten into more serious stuff like action movies, playing superheroes and whatnot. Once I grew out of children’s tv, I stopped following him as an actor although his Instagram and Twitter were a true gift for my feed. He was beautiful, with dark brown hair and equally dark skin that made his pearly smile stand out beyond anything else. His chocolate eyes blended perfectly well with the rest of his complexion, which made him seem really inviting in the way his eyes disappeared almost completely when he smiled, almost like he wanted everyone to have fun along with him.

Doubt started to creep in and was slowly consuming me. I knew exactly what I had tweeted, but it was exactly that, just a tweet. I never imagined he would even see it, much less acknowledge it. Besides, I didn’t know if it was the smartest idea. I mean Leo had cheated on me, and in my old apartment when I was supposed to be in one of my classes. So I got home early because I was in the mood to skip and that’s when I found him. On my bed, on top of a freshman rushing for the sorority I belonged to. Even in that moment, I was not a confrontational person and I absolutely hated violence. But he had also shattered my trust completely and disregarded our relationship. 

In hopes of being more proactive and doing the right thing, I replied.

12:48 PM

@misalartin: alright, BJ’s

in Forest ave 

@misalartin: say 6?

12:49 PM

@jamiethebee: it’s a date then. 

***

My hair was resembling a mood stone. In weak attempts of making my hair even, it had turned a beautiful brick orange. Adding the smell that undoubtedly clung to my clothes, I was now the personification of a plate of curry. 

All of that didn’t matter once I got to BJ’s and saw a tall figure leaning on one of the walls outside. He had disguised himself extremely well, with a black hat that cast a big enough shadow to hide his face. Which I was thankful for, because the clothes he was wearing would not help him blend into the crowd. With a pair of checkered pants and a teal coloured shirt which made it clear he had missed the class on “How to dress up for a spy mission™”. 

Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I forced my feet to move towards him. 

“Well one of us clearly misunderstood the mission” I said jokingly when I reached him. 

He looked up from his phone and I managed to keep my cool. Not because I could, but because the sun was glaring right on my face, which made it impossible for me to see practically anything. My knees almost gave away when I covered the sun with my hand. It took every ounce of willpower for me not to jump and squeal like a crazy 12 year old girl, he was really here in front of me looking all perfect and ready for a fashion show. Contrary to myself, which looked ready to sleep in a homeless shelter. My black sweatpants and hoodie clashed completely with him and you could immediately tell we were opposites when it came to the lives we had. 

“Lisa, right?” Jamie’s voice was deep and almost a whisper, which made a chill run through my body like electricity. It made me want to hear him speak forever, not caring about the topic he chose.

“Yeah. Um, do you really want to do the egg thing?” I couldn’t stop the words from escaping my mouth once I saw he had not one, but two boxes of 12 eggs. 

His laugh was like a song that I wanted to listen to in replay non stop until I couldn’t stand it. And then he did the unimaginable, he pouted.

“What, chickening out already?” I smiled in embarrassment and looked down at my feet to hide my blush. 

“Weren’t you taught that violence is not the answer?” I questioned him and his smile only seemed to grow bigger. Which was nice, but also worrying since it meant I was losing my moral battle.

“It’s not like we’re throwing eggs at someone, right? It’s just a house. Nothing a good cleaning can’t fix” He took off his hat to ruffle his hair before leaning down to whisper in my ear “Besides, who knows what else can happen” Jamie leaned against the wall again with a smirk, knowing perfectly well the effect he was having on me.

“Alright, you had me at eggs” I smiled sheepishly and then dragged him along to the bus stop. We kept talking, asking each other questions and trying to disguise our flirting behind lame excuses to get to know each other better. 

He lowered his hat even more once we got on the bus and kept his hand on the small of my back in order not to lose me in the mess of people. It felt natural, like it wasn’t the first time we met and his hand was used to touching me all the time. 

“So how come you talked to me?” I asked curiously, turning my body towards him. The bus lurched into a sudden stop, which caused me to stumble forward. Jamie caught me quickly, securing both arms around my waist and crushing me against him, since he was leaning on one of the walls. Thankfully, the eggs stayed safe beside him. 

“Well the offer was more tempting than the usual ‘Jamie I love you please marry me’ kind of thing” He rubbed my arms and held eye contact with me the whole time and I was in heaven.

“Naturally, who doesn’t want to egg houses instead?” I quipped with an eyebrow raised and he laughed under his breath, like he didn’t want people in on our conversation. 

“If egging houses is what I have to do to spend time with a pretty girl, then I’ll choose it over marriage any day” I was not one to fall for the usual lines, yet here I was struggling to reply without him finding out that I was very close to calling the whole thing off and take him to my apartment instead. 

Snapping out of my thoughts, I glanced outside and pressed the buzzer to get off. Jamie followed me walking along the sidewalk but this time, in silence. I walked these streets like I never stopped, being grateful I chose to move out of my apartment after everything that happened. 

I stopped when I recognized the familiar stones that led to his porch. It felt like I was living my worse nightmare. The maroon mailbox contrasting with the blue porch but clashing with the shiny Audi parked in the outer garage. 

Suddenly, it didn’t seem like the best idea. I had to leave. Best case scenario: Leo found out but didn’t press charges. Worst case scenario: Jamie and me end up in a jail cell. Neither situation seemed appealing to me. Especially since they both involved talking to him. I wasn’t the best at concealing my anger. And I had a lot to conceal.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt Jamie’s warm hands wiping my cheeks. He crushed me to his chest as if we’d done this a million times, and I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The tears had stopped, yet he kept running his hand through my hair and rocking us softly.

He stepped back only to lean down and open the first dozen eggs. He placed one in my hand and then looked at the Audi in front of him.

“Do you think it has an alarm system?” He voiced my question out loud. 

“I really hope not” And then I threw the first egg. 

***

Either Leo didn’t care about his Audi becoming an omelet, or he simply didn’t find out about it. I was over the top we were not stuck in a jail cell, and even more happy I had avoided confrontation. 

We were walking in silence again, the weight of reality on our shoulders. Now that we had pelted an entire car with eggs, there was nothing left to do with each other. It was no secret that he had to go back to Los Angeles and I had a curry explosion to take care of, yet I was finding it hard to see how our paths could cross again.

“I smell curry. Can we extend our date to more than just damaging private property?” Jamie stopped to look at me properly for the millionth time and once again, my knees threatened to give away. God his eye contact was going to kill me. 

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how I was the source of the smell, so I nodded and let him lead the way this time. 

One thing I had found out about Jamie Lee Oliver, he was not the best with directions. We walked around the same block four times before I got tired and yanked his phone from his hands.

“Just tell me where you want to go” I sighed exasperatedly and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Take me to the best burger place you know” And with that, he wrapped his arm around my waist and kept walking naturally, like he hadn’t just caused my heart to perform a drum solo in my chest. 

It was a long walk, especially since I was hell-bent on getting away from my exs’ neighbourhood as quickly as possible. Jamie didn’t seem to mind the distance, so I kept my mouth shut. 

“So Lisa” He spoke my name like it was foreign on his mouth, yet he treated me like I was anything but “Tell me something about yourself, something you haven’t told anyone” The words he spoke made me want to cringe, yet his tone was so inviting, it was impossible to refuse. 

“Well” I hesitated, there could have been a million things to say that would have made me look better or more attractive. Instead, I chose “I’m the reason you smelled curry” Jamie tried to mask his surprise as best as he could, yet it was clear this was not what he had imagined I would say. 

So naturally, I continued “My roommate managed to cause a curry explosion in our kitchen and when I came home from my interview I had barely any time to get ready before I met you and I clearly didn’t think things through because if I did, then I wouldn’t have showered. Which sounds disgusting but it would’ve made the smell less apparent and my hair a little less similar to a burning building. Also I tried to dress for the occasion but actually made an effort to look presentable, but clearly I didn’t do—

His lips were what interrupted me. One second I was boring his ears off with my rambling, the next Jamie Lee Oliver was kissing me. It was like no other kiss I’d had, he towered over me but not in an awkward way and his hands seemed to touch me in the right places at the perfect time. He was rumoured to date many girls and I understood why, he felt as comfortable kissing me as he looked when he was acting on camera. Reality caught up with me and made me lose focus, so Jamie pulled me closer to him by the waist. 

After what seemed like ages, he pressed his forehead against mine and pecked me a few times on the lips then closed his eyes and stayed silent for a few seconds, just holding me close to him. My eyes darted all over his face, trying to find something appropriate to say, yet words failed me. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I’ve been meaning to since I saw you crossing the street to meet me” 

Looking back, if I had to pinpoint the moment things changed for the both of us, I would say it was this one. Because this, was when I threw caution to the wind. It was like I couldn’t get enough of him. So I kissed him this time.

Laughing against my lips he pecked me once, twice. Then held my hand and continued walking in the direction of the restaurant. 

***

I was a blushing mess the remaining walk to the restaurant. Even when we asked for a table for two, I couldn’t keep it together. In fact, I felt my face grow even hotter, if it was even possible. 

“That blush is fucking adorable” Jamie whispered in my ear and his hand crept lower, which did not help at all with my blushing. 

The waitress raised her eyebrows at Jamie’s blunt movement but led us to a table in the far corner of the room.

“I don’t do this often, not with many girls” He blurted suddenly, still looking down at the menu. I’d decided to order the french burger and was waiting expectantly for him to decide, yet this had caught me completely by surprise. His warm eyes met mine in a piercing gaze “I don’t want anything serious either”

“I just egged my exe’s Audi, I can barely stomach a burger let alone a serious relationship” I blurted honestly and he grinned. I had just found my way into Jamie’s heart. 

He grabbed my hand while he ordered for the both of us and when he ordered a taxi to take us back to my place. He continued to hold it while we kissed in the elevator, and when we continued to do so everywhere in my apartment. 

Jamie Lee Oliver held my hand the way he held my heart, and I don’t remember him ever letting go. 

[forlornmelody]

Three Robins Rose Has Kissed And The One Who Kissed Back

Rating: Explicit (there’s smut, and lots of swearing, and some implied drug use.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: JayRose (Jason Todd/Rose Wilson)

AO3 Link: Here

Summary: Rose Wilson has a type and it is former protégés of Batman.

Note:  For the sake of this story, I'm assuming both the events of the Crisis continuity, and the New 52, happened. (But we're just gonna pretend DC didn't nerf Rose for daddy-fodder, kay? Kay.)

-*-*-

“Rose.” Nightwing stares down at her, narrowing his eyes, but his grin betrays him. “Something tells me you’re doing this on purpose.”

“What makes you say that?” The mat presses up against Rose’s back.

“That’s the third time today I’ve swept you off your feet.” Dick’s got her in a full nelson, one of his escrima sticks pointed at her throat. He’s not actually going to bust her, though. Nightwing, the former Boy Wonder, is too good for that sort of thing. It frustrates her to no end. 

“Maybe I need more practice.” Rose can’t help the playful lilt creeping into her voice. The blue and black look good on him--better because they hug his body in all the right places. All she has to do is tilt her hips--there. One flip and Rose leans over him, pressing both his wrists against the mat. 

“You? You’re better than this.” Somehow it sounds like Dick is commenting on more than her training room flirting tactics, and the smile slips from her face. Like he hasn’t hit on half his opponents already. Hypocrite. She’ll show him. 

Time slows as Rose closes in, so close she can hear Dick’s heart speeding up. Just as her lips are about to brush against his--Dick turns his head and her kiss lands on his cheek. “Oh come on.” Just like that--Dick’s on his feet, launching Rose off him.

“Focus, Rose.” 

Their sparring session continues, and Dick never once brings up the kiss. He drives her crazy, in more ways than one, but she seems to have him off-balance for now. Rose presses her advantage, and she pins Dick face-first against the Robin costume on display. Freezing, Dick sucks in a breath. Before Rose can ask what’s wrong, he shoves his elbow into her sternum, pushing her away. 

“Dick?” 

“Not now.” He doesn’t even look at her as he slams the door behind him. 

What’s his hang-up with his old costume, anyway? 

-----

Rose’s only on this team because of Dick, because even though he doesn’t lead the Titans anymore, what he says goes. Even when the Titans hate his decision. Even when they hate their newest member with a passion. Even though she tried to kill them before. 

But Rose knows more than just martial arts. And she knows just how to get under Tim’s skin. Or on top of it, rather. 

Click. Tim’s got her pressed face-first against the mattress and her hands cuffed behind her back. Somehow Rose suspects this isn’t a bondage thing. Too bad. She really liked the feel of Tim’s lips against hers. 

“Hot damn.” Eddie stares at them through the open door and Rose can literally see steam coming out of his ears. That might be normal for him. Rose hasn’t been paying attention, at least not before now. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Tim says quickly.

“Yes it is,” Rose says even quicker. Sometimes Rose’s visions don’t help much. People’s choices determine the future and people can be oh so finicky. It drives her nuts. Fights are one thing--people either want to kill her or they don’t--the rest they have ingrained through practice or the lack thereof. Knowing whether someone wanted to get in her pants--well. Apparently, she hasn’t quite figured that one out. 

Tim pulls her cuffs off, extracting himself from the bed and putting some distance between them. “Put some clothes on.” Damn. She’s 0-2.

But with the way Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she slides her armor on? Maybe it’s not a total loss. 

----

First Stephanie giggles, and Rose can hear it echo across Gotham’s rooftops. “What are you doing?” Then her smile slips, and the silence is deafening. 

Rose leans in closer, both their asses teetering on the edge. “You and Tim are on a break, right?” Her lips part, and she can smell the lavender in Spoiler’s shampoo. Their breaths intermingle and she’s so close to--

“Rose, I’m straight.”

“Seriously??”

----

Honestly, Rose had given up trying at this point. Jason Todd--Gotham’s best, or perhaps worst bad boy--should have been an easy target. Except he wasn’t Rose’s target, not this time. Her employer wanted Roy Harper out of the picture--Jason was just in her way. And he rarely left his best friend out of his sight. And Rose thought Koriand’r would’ve been more of a problem. And with her out of town--possibly out of planet--this should have been a piece of cake. Just get off The Red Hood’s radar by getting into his pants. How hard could it be?

Way harder than Rose ever imagined. 

But the price on Roy’s head? Too high to pass up. With that kind of money, Rose would be set for life. No more relying on her dear dad to help with bills every so often. Or his car. Or his safehouses. She could even get her brother the care and protection money to keep him away from all those bent government agencies and mad scientists who wanted to dissect his brain, or worse, use him for their own ends. 

So, Rose stayed. Even after Jason turned her down, more than once. 

The first time, it’s on a mission in Hong Kong, where Rose just so happens to be going after the same target. The Jade Dragon--Kingpin and Slum Lord who owned half the Indian Ocean. Roy waits for them on the roof with their getaway ride, and Rose joins Jason in the elevator. Halfway up it just so happens to stall. She really outdoes herself. 

Jason’s blue eyes stare not at her, but at the emergency hatch. The back-up lights cast a soft glow on his skin as Rose closes in. “It’s probably a power failure. No way they don’t have backup generators in this place.”

“Yeah. But they don’t run the elevator when the power goes out--in case of a fire.”

Jason swears under his breath, eyeballing the distance from his feet to the ceiling. “So what. We’ve got about ten, maybe twenty minutes before they fix it?”

“Something like that.” Rose touches his shoulder. “Relax. Where’s your slumlord going to go? The roof?” The stairs don’t go to his penthouse. She checked. Something about a security risk. Rich wackos like him like to be airlifted out in case of emergency. 

Pressing his lips together, Jason lets out the breath he’s being holding for two minutes. “You’re right.” He slumps against the back of the elevator, staring at buttons like they’ve personally wronged him. “I just hate waiting.”

Rose slouches next to him, not quite touching him, but close enough to where they can feel each other’s heat. “I know how we can pass the time.”

Jason blinks, finally giving Rose more than a passing glance. “...You’re kidding, right?” He laughs softly, and it’s the softest she’s ever seen his expression. “We just met.”

The batkid who got hired for jacking the Batmobile’s hubcaps, who had a reputation of going just a little too far when beating up bad guys, who actually killed more than one villain who got under his skin. Jason Todd--the guy on ten international watch lists--a prude. Who knew? 

----

Except Jason isn’t really a prude, now is he? Nah. Rose’s caught him stealing glances at Kori more than once--always looking the other way when Kori’s boytoy Roy stands nearby. Hell, the way Jason and Roy fool around sometimes—Rose’s not completely convinced of the joke. She’s even found some saucy text messages in his phone, and more than one picture of a gorgeous flight attendant. An old flame--Rose guesses. 

But he doesn’t spare her a second glance. 

And it’s not like Rose doesn’t know what she’s doing. Infiltration isn’t her favorite--she’d much rather blow up The Starfire with a heavy payload. Simple. Quick. A big, beautiful explosion to light some fire in her eyes. But the fucking employer wants Roy’s head as proof. Says he and his friends tend to walk away from this sort of thing. Her employer seemingly has all the time and money in the world--so long as Rose completes the job. She’s starting to wonder what Roy did to piss him off. But she knows how to get under a guy’s skin--the right clothes, the right words, simple gestures to lure him in. 

The second time it’s after the mission, when they’re celebrating with drinks--with sparkling cider instead of alcohol (what is it with these guys?) Rose dons a bikini with his favorite colors--red and black and lounges on the deck chair next to Jason. Roy and Kori have the right idea--already having forgotten their bubbly beverages--drinking instead from each other’s lips. And Jason’s staring up at the stars. 

 Rose kind of envies him in that moment, floating on the water with nothing but wonder on his face. She swan dives at the opposite end, swimming her way toward him. The splash does stir his floaty, and Jason turns over to glance her way. Maybe, just maybe she has a chance. 

“Nice moves out there today. You dad teach you that?”

Rose shrugs. “My mom taught me a few things, too.” Mostly how to draw in close without her mark noticing. But nothing seems to slip Jason’s attention. 

Jason eyes her as her arms brace themselves on his thigh. “You really want me, don’t you.”

“Can’t fault a girl for trying.” And damn her, he’s gorgeous, and cut like a rock. Was it all his years in the batcave or his time with the All-Caste? 

But that’s not want hooks Rose the most. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not like that.” It’s the softness in his eyes. She’s only seen it a couple of times in the past few days, but each time he looks at his friends like that Rose swears she’s being let in on a big secret. 

“Do not tell me you’re gay.”

Jason laughs, laughs, and Rose immediately knows she’s in too deep. “Gay? Straight? Labels. Who needs ‘em?” He stretches out on the pool mattress, and he lets the leg Rose’s leaning on slip into the water. “They’re just more rules.” 

“Then why…?” Rose doesn’t say it. Doesn’t voice the rejection sinking into her brain. Admitting it out loud would mean admitting failure, and Rose Wilson does not fail. 

Shrugging, Jason murmurs. “Don’t know you well enough, yet.”

----

Rose should’ve given up at this point. Gone for the easier kill, damn the consequences. Just snapped Roy’s neck while Kori was in the shower. And why hasn’t she? She hasn’t the foggiest idea. But if she’s honest with herself--Rose knows exactly why. 

Roy is Jason’s best friend. 

Jason would never forgive her if he found out. 

And why does it matter if Jason hates her? 

Damnit, Rose. 

This was exactly the kind of fucked up shit her dad warned her about. Don’t stick around too long. Don’t make friends. Don’t let your mark get under your skin. And what did Rose do? Exactly that.

Her employer doesn’t care if she seduces Jason Todd or not, so why does Rose? 

Damn it all to fucking hell. 

Rose beats the hell out of the punching bag, shaking the chain it hangs from with every strike. Each punch she lands inspires a new idea. Slip some arsenic in his drink. Stab him from behind. Throw him off the roof of the ship. Press a pillow into his face. Snap his neck. Snap his fucking--

“Rose?”

Her fist freezes midair, and she pants, not bothering to turn around. “Yeah?”

“It’s Roy. Something’s happened.”

Fuck. “Is he dead?”

Jason’s eyes tighten as he shakes his head. “We need to find him. Fast.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

----

Rose should be happy. Roy did all her hard work for her. Someone found him while he was on a bender, tied him up, and has been carving up his skin as if the answers themselves will bleed right out. 

Amateurs. A professional knows only to interrogate a sober target. Establish a baseline of what the hostage knows and then break them down with intoxication if need be. Break them slowly, only as much as needed. Dead hostages can’t answer questions. 

“Arsenal?” Jason whispers, tilting up Roy’s chin. He doesn’t respond, and his head flops down, heavy against his chest. 

Kory shoots the nearest window, a low growl escaping from her throat as glass shards rain down the side of the building. Rose jumps a little, despite herself. She doesn’t want to imagine being on the receiving end of one of those star bolts. 

“C’mon, Roy. Answer me.” Rose never thought she’d hear Jason beg, not like that. She can’t stand it. 

Walking over, Rose check’s Roy’s pulse and sighs in relief. It’s sluggish, almost too faint to feel. Rose could put him out of his misery right here and now and his friends would have no idea who killed him. Just slip her knife in to hit his artery and bam. Problem solved. Her fingers slip toward the knife on her belt, but Jason’s pleading gaze stops her cold. 

“Is he…?” Oh fuck. Jason has tears welling in his eyes. 

“Alive.” Rose can just see the barrel of the gun her employer will use to tie up loose ends. “Not for long, though.”

Between the three of them, Jason, Rose, and Kory carry Roy back to the ship where they can apply first aid, and the ship’s alien technology can perform a synthetic blood transfusion. Roy’s pulse slowly returns to something recognizable, and Rose sinks in her seat. She’s deciding between her safe houses when Jason’s fingers graze her jaw. 

Rose jumps out of her seat, using everything in her power not to deck him in the face. “The fuck…?”

“Hey.” Oh. Jason’s nose is so close to hers that she can feel his breath on her face. She can smell the mint he just put in his mouth. Never once did Rose imagine Jason could be such a sap. The heat of his fingers sears her skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Rose dares a glance down his lips and when she looks back up Jason’s already tilting his head to meet hers. 

His kiss is softer than she expects, lightly brushing his lips over hers, holding her jaw just enough so she can slip away if she wants to. Rose freezes, never expecting this after all this time, all those refusals. Jason starts to pull back before her brain finally stops dividing by zero, and she grabs the back of his neck, crushing her lips against his. Swearing softly, Jason meets her tit for tat, and they stumble out of the med bay and into the hall. 

Rose presses him against the wall, slipping her hands inside the opening of his favorite jacket, feeling the heat rising off his chest and the rush of his heartbeat. Part of her still expect to wake up from this dream in her bed alone, heart hammering, skin flushed, thighs damp with need. She mouths a silent prayer into his lips, to the god she never bothers to answer to, pleading to make the dream real, just this once. 

Jason’s hands wander across her shoulders, down her arms, and around her hips to her back. Rose steps between his legs, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Breaking for air, Jason’s words come out ragged. “We...we should pick a room. Yours or mine?”

Instead of answering him with words, Rose guides him to his door and shoves him inside, tossing his jacket to the floor. Jason stares at her breathlessly, and she hesitates. “Too much?”

“Never.” His fingers wind in her hair, pulling her back into another kiss.

Rose drinks him in like she’s parched for thirst, scratching the edge of his hairline from the tips of his ears to the base of his skull. Jason sucks in a breath and Rose grins into his mouth. She tastes him, gasping softly as his fingers twist in her curls, pulling at her hair just enough. HIs other hand wanders just south of her waist and he freezes. Stepping back, Rose loosens her hold, looking him over from head to toe. 

Jason pants, taking her in too. “...Are we…?”

Leaning against the closed door, Rose folds her arms. “Are we what, Jason?”

“Is this a onetime thing or…” Jason’s eyes trail back in the direction of the hospital room and suddenly the tension between him and the other Outlaws make a lot more sense. 

Damnit. “I’m a merc, Jason.” Really, she should be happy with the kiss, more than the kiss, but this--former Robin proves hard to let go of. “I’ve stayed here too long as it is.”

Jason’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and Rose plasters on her poker face, hoping he hasn’t found her out tonight of all nights. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Push me away.” His voice wavers as he speaks, and Rose’s heart plummets to her stomach. Damn him. 

“What do you want from me?” And damn her too, that waver is apparently contagious. 

Jason steps closer, sliding his hand in to cup her jaw, the edge of his thumb grazing the bottom of her cheek. “I don’t want to just fuck, Rose.” His eyes close, and he brushes his nose against hers. “I want to--” He clamps his mouth shut, trembling slightly in his touch. 

The word teeters on the edge of his tongue, but it doesn’t come out, so Rose pulls it out with a snarl. “Loving me will get you killed, Jason.”

A sloppy grin forms on his face, and Jason nods at her. “Death isn’t as final as you think.”

“So what. You’re immortal now?” She’s grinning too, and she knows she’s fallen too far to get back up.

Jason brushes his lips against hers. “I sure feel like I am when I’m around you.” His next kiss probes deeper, and one hand tugs on her elbow. “Stay. After this is over.”

Her answer is right there, just inside her mouth, but Rose says something else instead. “Oh? You’re that sure I’m a good fuck?”

His lips smack against hers. “I’m not here to fuck you.”

“Jason--”

He silences her with a finger, and then he traces the edge of her lips with his fingertip. Rose resists the urge to pull it into her mouth and suck on it. She’s doomed. “I’m here to make love to you.”

Rose swallows, freezing on the spot. “I can’t promise you anything.”

His smile slips, and she desperately wants to put it back on his face. Rose doesn’t want to break his heart, not anymore. “Rose--”

“No one can.” Tracing the space where his heart hammers in his chest, Rose whispers softly. “Someone could break in ten minutes from now and shoot me in the head.” Standing up on her tiptoes, she kisses his forehead. “Nothing’s guaranteed.” Then she kisses the back of his hand. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jason watches her, his face inscrutable as ever. 

Shit. Did I make things worse? Rose opens her mouth to murmur another apology but Jason kisses her before she can say a word. He pulls her close, his hands seemingly everywhere at once, and yet she craves more of him. Daring to slide her hand up Jason’s shirt, she grins into his lips as he leans heavily into her touch, a groan escaping from his lips despite himself. She grazes the lines of his abdomen with her nails. “Oh,” Rose says softly. 

Jason Todd. Blushing. As he watches her. “Like what you see?” he says just as soft. 

“I haven’t seen anything yet.” She ducks down, pushing up his shirt and following its path with her mouth. 

“Fuck.” One of his wandering hands finds its way back to her hair, holding her head as she breathes against his stomach. “Rose.”

Rose stands up, grinning against his collarbone. “Getting there.” She finds the hollow where his neck meets his shoulder and lavishes her attention there, charged by the tightening of his grip. 

Jason pushes her to arm’s length, taking a ragged breath. He drags down the zipper of her jacket, taking in the sight of her skin inch by inch. Rose presses into his touch, admittedly reddening a bit herself. His lips part with hunger, but it's the wonder in his eyes that stops her in place—like he sees the stars flickering across her skin.  With his fingers he traces the scar on her shoulder and the ones that line her arms. Sucking in a breath, he circles the mark of a bullet on her chest. “That must’ve hurt.”

“Like hell.” Rose mutters, only to gasp when Jason presses his lips against it. “Jason.”

“Shh,” he says softly, breathing in her scent as he edges his fingers beneath her bra and the plastron it holds. He traces a path up her neck and across her throat until he makes it to her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Why does the thought of him being gentle make her heart beat faster?  Part of her wants him to have his way, and take his time exploring her body. Another, much louder part wants to rile him until he takes her fast and hard. Rose grabs the edge of his shirt, looking up at Jason. He nods, and she bites her lips as she pulls it over his head. 

Holy shit. 

Rose thought she had a lot of scars. Jason has so many she doesn’t even know where to start. There are the bullet marks, the punctures, the rhythmic signs of torture, the line going up the side of his neck and into his hairline where a crowbar must’ve bashed his head in. It’s not until Jason tilts her chin up that Rose realizes she’s been holding her breath. “I’m still here,” he whispers, pulling her into another kiss. She wonders how many times he’s kissed Death on the lips, only to pull back when it wanted him most. 

“Soon, you’ll in bed.” She grins against his lips, finding the latch on his belt. “Booby traps? Really?”

He laughs once, running a hand down her breast, feeling the softness of her skin there. “Safety first.” When he gets to the lines of her abdomen, he swallows, drawing a grin from Rose’s mouth. 

Stepping back, Rose eyes the latch, her brain already processing the potential catastrophes, and the configurations that would enable them. “Gotcha.” The belt clicks open, without a single explosion or poison released. 

Jason blinks at her as she sets the belt aside. “I can’t decide if that’s hot or terrifying.”

Rose stands up on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear. “Why not both?” She punctuates her question with a bite on his ear lobe. The rumble of his groan stirs her chest, sending shockwaves between her legs. Hooking her thumbs in his belt loops, Rose pulls him closer, grinding up against him. 

“Rose--” He says, in pleading or in warning, Rose isn’t quite sure.

“What do you want, Jay?” She runs the tip of her tongue up the ridge, shivering at the way his ragged breaths stir her hair. 

“Bed,” he says hoarsely, “now.” He pulls her with him, and they tumble into the sheets, boots still on. 

It’s a race, then, to see who can get the other’s off the fastest. Four thunks, laughs, and tangled sheets later, Rose climbs up his body, guiding his hands to her belt. Jason’s removed plenty of belts, that Rose is sure, but it’s like he deliberately fumbles his hands against her skin, just so he has an excuse to graze his knuckles there. And damn him, her skin jumps every time. Fine. She’ll make him lose track for real. Rose plants a wet kiss against his lips, running her hands down his shoulders and his arms, guiding his fingers until her belt clangs against his bookshelf before sliding to the floor. “Better,” she murmurs. 

Jason runs his fingertips along the edge of her jeans, drawing his touch up and down her spine. “I could stare at you for hours, you know that?”

Rose snorts. “I can think of better ways to spend your time.”

Tilting his chin in challenge, Jason sits back. “Oh? Like what?”

Biting her bottom lip, Rose catches his wandering hand, and takes it to the button of her jeans. “Lemme show you.”

Jason holds his breath, unbuttoning her jeans and drawing the zipper down. He’s so quiet Rose starts to doubt what her late-night visions have been telling her for months. Maybe they weren’t her precognition talking. Maybe they’re just the wet dreams so many guys and girls have had ever since Jason donned a mask. Searching his eyes, Rose says, “We can stop--”

Holding her gaze, Jason replies, “I don’t want to.” HIs fingers follow hers inside her jeans and inside her underwear, and he sucks in a breath. “Shit, you’re wet.”

Rose blushes, despite herself. “You really all that surprised?” She presses his fingers in slow, small circles, holding onto the headboard behind him for balance. Then she moves his touch faster, harder, gasping against his shoulder. “Nn, fuck.” 

“Breathe.” Jason chuckles softly, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. He moves his fingers more independently now while she’s distracted. And Rose breathes him in, awash in gunpowder and amber, and that salty scent he bears after a fight. Always so uniquely Jason Todd that the smell of it sends Rose right over the edge. He shakes them both with his laughter. “And our pants aren’t even off yet.”

“Shut up.” Rose pulls back to look at him.

He smirks. “Make me.”

Jason doesn’t need to say it twice. Rose assaults his lips with hers, pushing him down into the mattress. Making quick work of his jeans, she pulls them down as he shimmies out of them. Boxers briefs, huh? They’re just a simple grey with a black waist band--for some reason she’d expected some sort of smart-alecy words printed on them.  Sliding down, she runs the tip of her nose up the line of his bulge, grinning as he writhes beneath her. While she sits up, Rose edges her fingers inside, feeling along his length, breathing in Jason’s unsteady gasps. Always so coy and cocky, and now he can’t form a single word. “Cat got your tongue?” she murmurs against his ear. 

Jason turns his head, kissing her long and deep, rolling them over. Rose lifts her hips so he can get her jeans off, and he kisses just south of her belly button. “Mm.” Glancing up at her, Jason grins, kissing harder against that spot, lavishing his tongue until she squirms beneath him. But she doesn’t beg, not yet. The lines in his back are coiled tight, so tight his body might burst at the seams, but Jason takes his time, kissing down her hips, her thighs, her calves. Swallowing her whine, Rose reaches for his shoulder, but Jason takes her hands, placing them back at her sides. 

“Patience, Rose.” He silences her protests with a kiss, diving back between her legs, edging them apart so that he has room. His lips find her ankle, the back of her knee, and Rose heart pounds as he gets closer and closer to her underwear. There’s no hiding her need for him now, with the way it soaks the front of her boyshorts. Jason samples the taste of her through the fabric, giving her one long lick. 

“Oh fuck.” Rose gasps and twists, and Jason has to hold her down with one arm slung across her abs. He peels her underwear off, testing her with different pressures and strokes. Every so often, she catches him looking up at her, assuring himself he’d doing it just the way she likes. Her insides clench, and she twists in bliss, but Jason doesn’t stop, only pausing briefly to come up for air. Even then, his fingers fill in while he wipes his mouth.

“Shh.” He whispers against her mouth, reaching over into his bedside drawer for a condom. Did she say something? 

“Yeah?” Rose asks, and her voice comes out hoarse. Fuck, she must’ve been screaming. While he slides on the condom, she’s reaching over for a bottle of water, downing half of it without giving a fuck to whom drank from it last.

Jason returns to her, surprisingly shy when they’re so close to merging their bodies. He gives her one chaste kiss, then another, letting her lead the pace. She winds one hand around the back of his neck, scratching the skin at the base of his skull. The other she uses to thumb the scar next to his eyebrow, the sharp line of his jaw, the sheen of sweat running down his neck to his collarbone, and that delicious line that runs down to the thatch between his legs. Guiding him inside her, Rose closes her eyes, letting his groan wash over her shoulder. 

Rose traces circles across his back as he thrusts in and out, only to grip his shoulder when he picks up the pace. Jason grins against her mouth, sliding his hand between them, and Rose jolts, clinging to him as she whimpers into his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against her mouth. “You can let go.” His tone meanders between loving and teasing, and maybe for Jason there is no line between them. 

She doesn’t want to, not again before he does. But then Jason has to fucking whisper sweet nothings in her ear. 

“You’re so beautiful when you let go,” he says softly, and her world flashes white, much like it does on the cusp of a vision. Her body coils like a spring, and Rose hooks her ankles around his hips, drawing him deeper inside as she clenches around him. 

Jason’s eyes pinch shut as he loses his tightly held control, and Rose rolls her hips until he falls to her side. “Holy hell,” he gasps softly, muffled by his pillow. 

“Yeah.” Rose shouldn’t, but she can’t help but kiss his left temple, tucking them in and tossing the spent condom aside. 

She spends the night committing every line of his body to memory. And it helps soothe her in the weeks, months, and years ahead. 

---

The next morning, Rose rolls to get closer to him, only to find his side of the bed empty. In his place, Jason left a small, folded piece of paper, and Rose takes her time undoing all the creases. 

Rose,

You’ve no idea how amazing you are. I hope last night isn’t the end of it, but I understand if it is.

--Jason.

Beneath his name, Jason’s inscribed his number, and though Rose memorizes it within seconds, she always keeps the note close, in her utility belt or between her bra and her plastron, next to her beating heart. 

[withastolenlantern]

They boarded the jet without fanfare, and Davis keyed in his credentials and submitted the flight plan. Chatham settled into one of the plush chairs midway through the cabin and opened a terminal to begin her situation report. Before she knew it the autopilot had spooled up the turbines and they were aloft into the rapidly darkening sky, chasing the sunset as it crawled its way east. She looked out through one of the windows and saw Jamaica, still green and verdant even in the twilight, quickly disappear, just another speck amidst the breakers, swallowed by the massive sea. 

They flew in silence most of the way, Chatham working on her report and Davis just sitting quietly across the cabin. He nursed a small glass of whiskey from the Earl’s bar in the rear, mainly swirling it against the sides of the frosted crystal, staring off into space.

“You’ve been atypically quiet, Mister Santomas,” she said looking up from the terminal.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve never been shot at before. Never killed anybody either. I think that’s catching up with me a little bit,” he said, continuing to stare at the floor.

“Best not to make a habit of either, I’ve found,” Chatham responded. 

“Puts things in perspective a little,” the engineer confessed. “What if it had been me, falling lifeless through that hatch?”

The detective put down the terminal and leaned forward toward him. She’d been through this existential crisis before, many years ago in a bivouac in some coastal Indian city she couldn’t remember. Earlier that day she’d fired her weapon for the first time in anger, shooting a suicide bomber out of mid-air as he leaped over rubble and sprinted toward her squad. Afterward, she stood over the body, silent, staring at the hole in the insurgent’s chest. It was bigger than she had expected, somehow, and when she’d closed her eyes that night it was all she could see; a gaping, oozing portal where a person used to be, and it threatened to pull her in and consume her whole.

“But it wasn’t you,” she said.

“Tell me one thing I’ve done that matters,” he challenged, with a sudden ferocity that startled her.

“I mean, I’m...” she started to argue.

“Its fine,” he said, waving the detective off. “It’s not you. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve heard it all. I’m reliable. I get things done. I’m ‘good at my function’.” He made finger quotes as he listed off descriptors. “But those are the qualities you look for in a washing machine, not a person.”

Chatham tried to interrupt, but he continued. “When I’m gone, it won’t matter. In the course of human history, I don’t even rate a footnote. Fuck, the shareholders won’t even notice, and I’ve done nothing but make them money. No… no they’ll probably be happy because they can replace me with someone cheaper,” he scoffed, turning his eyes to the floor. “I haven’t accomplished anything with my miserable existence that’s worth a damn.”

The detective sat quietly, unsure of what to say. She knew from her own experience that whatever arguments she might present to the contrary would fall on deaf ears. When one fell in to these depths, no rhetorical ropes could pull you out until you’d resolved to make the climb. Her companion continued to fume, obviously if quietly. “You’re probably not… wrong,” she hazarded. “In the grand scheme of things, I don’t know that any of us really matter. Not as individuals, anyway. I mean, I have a Military Cross and I keep it in a fucking sock drawer. When I’m dead, they’ll etch a fancy symbol on my tombstone, and that’ll be the last anyone thinks of me.”

He looked up at her, his gaze deep and penitent. “This is all a fucking show, you know,” he said, gesturing around the laboratory. “It’s a sham, like me. HenRI is more than capable of running everything in here, at least to the Board’s liking. They put a body down here because it ‘humanizes’ the Consortium, makes the investors feel like they’re doing business with a human enterprise, and not just a machine. When Diaz passed away, they thought about letting HenRI run all of Operations. It’s not like we really do any meaningful R&D anymore; there’s no point when they’re shutting down most of the fabs. But the Earl knew better, and he was nervous about giving a virtual intelligence that much control. He wanted someone… pliable. Someone he could trot out to glad-hand and speak the customers’ language, but wouldn’t make waves. I’m no more than HenRI’s secretarial functions in flesh and bone.”

“I don’t believe that, even if you do,” she replied.

“Diaz killed himself, you know.”

“What?” Chatam said, taken aback.

Santomas shook his head in the affirmative, pantomiming a finger gun. “Forty-five to the temple, a no-doubter. He was sitting in his office; he printed the gun himself, in one of the dev lab fabs that were off the network. I found the code on the server a couple days later.”

“Christ,” the detective swore.

“Janitorial drone found him one night, 3 AM, his body slumped over his desk. Only threw up the flag because of all the blood. HenRI notified me, and I had to break the news to Jaime, his partner. The Consortium bought his silence, of course; he took the payout and their kid and moved back to the States. Haven’t heard from him since,” he explained.

“Did he leave a note?” she asked.

“Not as such. It’s… it’s probably my fault, if anything,” Santomas said, starting to choke up. “I know Jaime hated it here in Wales and they were drifting apart at the end. Looking back, I think I was the closest thing Yangervis had left resembling a friend. His parents fled cartel violence in Colombia when he was five, and they landed in Texas. They had trouble making ends meet in the US. His dad was killed robbing a convenience store; his mother sued the state and the settlement was how he was able to afford his initial studies at A&M. He started the autofabs, in my opinion anyway, as a way to relieve some of that economic anxiety for other families so they didn’t have go through what he did. We were so successful at first, but then Black Tuesday happened, and I think he blamed himself for all the layoffs that followed.

Looking back, I keep wondering if there weren’t signs I should have recognized. He used to gripe all the time about expanding capabilities and finding ways to streamline distributions to do more for the growing poor. I just… I never realized how far down that particular rabbit hole he’d gone. We had a memorial here, and then a week later the Earl offered me his job. I should’ve said no, but I’m too much of a coward.” The engineer wiped a single tear from his cheek with his shirt-sleeve.

Chatham leaned forward and patted his leg gently.“You saved my life today,” the detective replied. “That’s what you did that matters. There was no cowardice in that.” 

The rest of the return flight passed uneventfully. Santomas dozed off, snoring gently from across the cabin. She completed her after action report, which would no doubt raise a few eyebrows come morning. The detective considered what ridiculous excuse the home office would come up with to explain away a clearly recurrent trend. Pirates were not typically so organized, or methodical; they were opportunists mainly, and it seemed more than coincidental that multiple Consortium facilities several thousand miles apart could be targeted with some sort of coordination. Curiously the mercenaries in the fab had only been stealing weapons and other physical gear; there was no sign of the mysterious fluid they’d found on the African skiffs, although it didn’t mean they hadn’t already loaded it onto the hovercraft before she’d interrupted them. Larger forces were obviously at work here, but she could not yet determine to what end.

The landing gear engaged the tarmac on the private runway at Cardiff and broke her from musings. Santomas had woken at some point, and was now manipulating some data on a holo display. He smiled lightly over toward her, an unspoken acknowledgement of the previous day’s stressors now past. The jet’s reverse thrusters roared to life, and they taxied slowly into the Consortium’s hangar.

“I’ll be in the lab going over the data we scraped,” the engineer informed her as she stood and collected herself. “Go home and get some sleep. Call me if you come up with anything.”

“I will,” she replied, descending the narrow staircase out of the jet. 

The early morning sky was a light grey with the sun just barely peaking above the Bristol Channel to the east. She stumbled across the terminal groggily and used her HRMES credentials to bypass the normal immigration lines. A drone taxi was waiting for her just outside the baggage carousel, and she flopped into the rear seat with a weariness she could feel deep into her bones. The car rumbled to life and in a span of time she could not, nor wanted to recall, she was home.

The lights came on automatically as she entered her flat, Gibson had turned on the kettle reflexively as she’d entered. Sleep was all she really wanted, but the heat from the kettle was inviting and she poured the warm water into a mug with practiced ease.  

“Good evening, guv. We’ve had an encrypted communique,” the flat informed her. “Highly unusual.” 

“Oh?” she asked, steeping a tea bag into the mug.

“Yes. I was unable to decode the packet or identify the sender’s IP address. It appears to require a vocal code confirmation.” The flat projected open a holo screen and opened the message. The only contents were a line of text, commanding “Fancy a drink?” 

Chatham cracked a knowing smile. “Earl grey, with honey,” she spoke aloud to the holo. The screen transitioned to a sonographic representation of her voice, and then overlaid it against a similar image. As they slid together, she could see the graphs align, and the encrypted video message opened.

“Hello, dear,” the Lady Swansea beamed from the holo.

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 36

36. Tension

Jekyll thought that, since Hyde now had a partner in crime, it should only be fair that he'd have one as well.

Turned out that for someone who was always the voice of reason, Lady Summers was quite mad herself. And she was delighted to share her own scientific discoveries with him.

Sometimes they spent the evenings in her cellar or his lab, experimenting on her samples or working on his formulas.

One evening, it was her lab they were in and she was showing him a dark powder in a vial.

“So I have identified the impurity that made your formula work.”

He beamed at her. “Really?!”

She grinned sheepishly.

“Well, to be fair it was actually my butler. I managed to separate it and when I showed it to my servants, Sameer recognised it as a drug from his homeland India. He said that Indian sages use it for meditation. Together with a few other compounds it's supposed to enable you to access the wisdom of the cosmos or something, I don't know. Ask him, he can explain it better. Anyway, it's a spiritual, transcendental thing, so it should interest you more than me.”

He laughed. Yes, no doubt it would.

Despite being a medium, Lady Summers was sensible and pragmatic. Rising higher than anyone else, she remained a woman of the world. She never lost touch to reality.

Jekyll had no idea how she did it, but he envied her for it.

She smiled at him. “You give me too much credit, Doctor. Now, do tell me of your discoveries about the blood samples I lent you.”

The Doctor blushed awkwardly. “It sounds a bit far-fetched, Milady, but …”

“But what?”

Seeing her intrigued mien, he continued: “It seems that your blood indeed has rejuvenating qualities. I don't know why, but it's different from normal blood. That would explain why I suddenly looked much younger, after you donated your blood to save Hyde and me last autumn.”

She beamed at him.

“Eureka! So this is why I'm not growing older!”, she cried in delight, “Now all we have to do is to find out what gives it its rejuvenating powers! I have failed to find the answer for thirty years, but now it's within my – pardon, I mean our, grasp!”

Jekyll enjoyed the times when he cooperated with the Lady.

But the time he had was limited by the fact that he had a surgery to run.

Which was a bit complicated by the fact that Hyde was being particularly fidgety for some reason.

After seeing off his last patient and retreating to his office for the paper work, he found that working was going to be hard.

Why?

Because Hyde had to choose now of all times to appear in the mirror, because he was bored and … well, being his shameless, attention-whoring self.

Namely, he was nagging and flirting.

After he somehow, miraculously had got a considerable stag of paper work done (in spite of Hyde's nagging), his patience was on the verge of snapping. He still had work to do, he couldn't concentrate and all the whining was giving him a headache. Not to mention he was still sour about-

“Hyde”, he growled slowly. “Shut. The fuck. Up! I have work to do and I really don't feel like putting up with your nonsense! Not now, not here, not anywhere else and definitely not any time this week!”

Hyde frowned. “Whoa, Jekyll, warn me next time you're in your red phase!”

“I don't care, just shut up!”, Jekyll snapped. He was just so done right now. “You're really in no position to whine into my ears!”

If anyone is, it's me!

The brunette puffed his cheeks. “Don't be so snappy. I don't complain, when you beg for my attention, when I'm out.”

The blond's eyes narrowed. “That's because you're a fucking attention-whore, who sucks up any kind of positive attention he can get! And I don't ask for your fucking attention nearly as much as you for mine. Now if you would just shut the fuck up already, because for just one day – one fucking day! – I want to be able to do my work in peace!”

The younger man frowned: “Got out on the wrong side of the bed? Jekyll, what's the matter? It's not like you to say 'fuck' so extensively. Or to insult me so harshly, for that matter. I wasn't asking to be let out, just for you to spare an hour for me.”

Oh, that was too much!

The Doctor jumped up and slammed his hands onto the table.

“You want to know what the problem is? You want my attention so badly? Alright, fine! If that's what you want, you'll get it, you brat! You're pissing me off! After the terrible things that happened to us, I tried to take it easy, but do you have the faintest idea how hard that is, when you constantly nag and whine into my ears, when I try to get work done?! Just a kind reminder, you live on my wealth, but my wealth isn't infinite! I've had no income for several months! Almost half of my fortune is gone! I pay for everything! The money on your bank account? It's mine! And on top of that, I pay Lady Summers 1500£ per month for our therapy!”

Hyde lifted an eyebrow. “Are you finished-?”

“DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M FINISHED???”

The brunette winced.

Jekyll took a deep breath and growled: “I'm just getting started! You have no room to complain, you brat! I've been letting you out more often than usual, and not just because I wanted to get drunk and laid! You know that, Hyde! It used to be so, but I find myself doing it for your sake just as for mine these days! You're the one who gets to go wild and free and now you have even more fun, because there is someone who's just as crazy as you are! Hasn't the fun been doubled for you, thanks to Miss Donovan?! Does it not feel great to have a partner in crime?! Do you think that I don't feel how ecstatic you are, that someone likes the things you like, thinks the way you think and even joins you in your – in our – debauchery?!

And don't even get me started on your interaction with Gabriel lately! I can understand, that he chose to give you his first kiss, because in that moment you fucking needed it! But now you had to go and steal his first French kiss too! What will come next? The entirety of his body?! His heart?! His soul?! His first confession of love?! Why is it that you get to be first in everything, while I always come in second?! Why you?! You don't know about the emotional depth Gabriel puts into the things he does! Every time he lets you have one of his firsts, he gives a part of himself to you! But you don't understand that! It means nothing to you! You don't love him, you don't even know what love is! Every single of his affections means the world to me, but you … you …”

His voice failed him. He sank back into his chair and buried his face in his hands.

It wasn't fair!

Hyde didn't love Utterson. Utterson didn't love Hyde.

So why, why did he get to be first in everything?

It was just all too much.

He broke into sobs and cried into his hands.

“Jekyll …”

The blond winced, when he suddenly felt his alter ego's icy hands pry his warm ones away to cup his face.

When did he leave the mirror?

“Come now, my Doctor”, Hyde cooed, “I know that you're jealous, but this is ridiculous.”

“Shut up!”, Jekyll sobbed, “It's not like you actually understand my emotions!”

“Jekyll …”

“I hate you, Edward Hyde! I hate you so m–mmph!”

Hyde kissed him.

“No, you don't”, he mumbled against his lips, “Don't lie to me, Henry.”

Then he kissed him again, more forward this time.

Jekyll tried to push him back, but the smaller was holding his head in a vice-like grip. He sobbed against those icy, chapped lips.

He wanted to kiss back, but at the same time he did not.

I hate him … I love him … why is it so hard for me to make up my mind?!

Finally the little bastard broke the kiss completely and let go.

“You're too emotional”, Hyde remarked, shaking his head. “Acting like a child right now, are you?”

Jekyll glared at him: “No, Hyde, you're just not emotional enough. Also, you're one to talk. You were being childish earlier!”

The brunette shrugged: “Well, to my defence, Henry: as Edward Hyde, I'm technically less than nine years old. At the same time I'm both legally twenty and your age. But you're simply a fifty-years-old man. You're supposed to be the mature one, not me.”

Jekyll laughed joylessly: “That's no excuse, Hyde. Also, thank you for reminding me, that wanting to screw you makes me a bloody paedophile! As if I wasn't already vile enough!”

The younger man sighed irritably: “It's not paedophilia, if I'm not a minor. Goddammit, Henry, we already had that discussion! It's not a child's body you're lusting after. We both know, that you didn't make me twenty, just so I could legally screw around!”

“When I created you, your legal age was eighteen”, Jekyll reminded him drily. “You only told me two years ago, that you didn't want to stay like that forever.”

“Your point? You just could've decided over my head, that I'm fifteen or younger. Look at all the people who believe that I'm thirteen or less!”

The blond stared at him in horror. “That's disgusting, Hyde!”

“Exactly. Now remind me, why did you make me older?”

Jekyll reflected for a moment.

That was a good question, actually.

Why had he decided that Hyde should be older?

At first sight, the brunette looked rather androgynous and definitely very young. He was thin, had narrow shoulders and an effeminate face. And he often acted like a hobbadehoy*.

Then he thought of how Hyde's body actually looked under his clothes and remembered.

“Because your physique is too mature to belong to someone so young. And because you can judge a situation and act accordingly. You're impulsive, but you know what you're doing.”

Hyde smiled and nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. And because you're – at least in this regard – not a total pervert. The fact I don't want to fuck minors either proves it. So don't worry your pretty head about it, my dear soulmate.”

Then he kissed him again.

This time the older man kissed back and wrapped his arms around the younger, pulling him onto his lap.

Hyde chuckled against his lips and wrapped his arms around his neck in return.

They didn't go further, not this time.

Yet it was oddly intimate.

It wasn't one of those heated, rough battles of dominance filled with anger and hateful lust.

It was tenderness and reassurance and the promise that everything would be fine, one way or another. That they would always be there for each other.

Henry Jekyll loved and hated Edward Hyde, but in that moment, he could forget about the latter.

When the make-out session ended, he felt renewed and alive.

“Edward …”, he whispered and leaned his forehead against the other's.

I'm sorry for lashing out at you earlier …

“Forget about that, Fairest”, the brunette responded to his thought. “You're exhausted. Go to sleep. I'll take care of everything for you.”

Hyde shooed his creator over to the couch and then turned his attention to the paper work.

Jekyll had finished a considerable amount, but there was still a lot to be done.

Hyde frowned.

Oh dear … that sure is a lot of bills and letters to answer!

He decided, that he would do the letters first. Mathematics would be a relief after wrecking his brain over Jekyll's correspondence.

There was just one problem: like Jekyll, he was naturally right-handed, but he had taught himself to write with the left to distinguish himself from his creator. Jekyll's handwriting wasn't his.

I have to forge it.

The brunette took an empty piece of paper and tried to write a few sentences with the right hand.

At first the writing was a bit shaky. But a few attempts later, the autograph resembled that of his creator perfectly.

Note to self: practise writing with the right one again. Better to be able to write with both hands equally.

That decision being made, he went to work.

His hand started hurting after a while and he was tempted to do the rest with the left. But no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't get the exact slope by writing with the left. Whelp. He would have to suck it up and deal with his cramped hand later.

After finishing the last letter, he sighed in relief.

Oh, how he hated that part of Jekyll's work! Not only was it the most time-consuming, but writing the letters just the way Jekyll would, with the exact same wording, that was torture!

Thank goodness, now I can finally do the bills!

That was child's play.

At least to Hyde it was.

To many people – Jekyll included – mathematics was dull and boring, but not to him. It was like himself – cold, practical and flexible. There weren't a hundred ways to interpret mathematics. There were many ways to come to the same conclusion, but not the other way! The calculation was either right or wrong. It was that simple!

If only people were as easy as mathematics …

Hyde had just finished the finances, when he felt his corporeal form begin to weaken.

Good timing. He had feared that he wouldn't be able to keep it up long enough to finish all.

Fuck, that was exhausting!

A soft moan got his attention.

Jekyll was sleeping on the couch, out like a light.

Hyde sighed tiredly and floated over to him.

The older man shifted a little and mumbled incoherently in his sleep.

The younger crouched down next to the other's head and listened. Just like himself, Jekyll talked in his sleep sometimes. What would he say this time?

“Edward …”

Hyde frowned. That was oddly coherent. Was the blond not asleep after all?

“I love you …”

The brunette's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks heat up. Alright, the blond was dreaming. There was no way he would have said that while awake!

“Please don't go …”, the other whimpered in his sleep. He was having a nightmare, that much was clear.

Hyde grew concerned. “Henry, I'm right here.”

“I'm sorry …”

Alright, what the hell was the other dreaming?! The young man held his hand to the sleeping man's forehead. Pictures flashed before his eyes.

They were separated. He was there, wearing his black raincoat, carrying a travelling bag. There was an argument between him and Jekyll, a nasty one. He saw himself look at Jekyll with a cold mien, then turn his back and leave.

Oh, Jekyll …

“Henry”, he whispered, “Can you hear me? I'm not leaving you. I'm right here.”

The blond sniffed. His arms twitched, as if he wanted to hug him.

“Really?”

Hyde sighed and stroked his creator's blond, tousled hair. “Really. It's just a dream. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Just a dream …”

For a second the brunette thought that he'd wake up. But he didn't.

“You'll never leave me, right? Not even, if I separated you completely?”, the other choked.

“Shhhh”, the younger cooed. “My dear soulmate, don't start bawling on me again. I'm here. I will always be there. For better and for worse.”

He didn't know what compelled him to promise that. But he meant it.

Jekyll leaned into his touch like a cat.

“I love you …”

“I know”, Hyde answered sadly.

He would never be able to say it back, he knew. Whether he loved his other half or not.

And Jekyll would never say it consciously. He had no qualms telling him that he hated him, but he would never tell him that he loved him. Not when he was awake.

I can't say I love you, Jekyll.

---

*hobbadehoy - Victorian Slang:  a youth who has ceased to see himself as a boy, but is not yet regarded as a man.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 28

Chapter Summary -  Tom speaks with Danielle on the phone, awkwardly, before arranging to meet her.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum@nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“Danielle.” Tom’s voice shook on the phone.

“I…Hi.”

“You never said you and Paul broke up.” Benedict stared at him in disbelief that of all the things he could say to Danielle at that time; that was what came to mind, to mention her ex. “I mean, I just saw him there, you never said…I thought that you…”

“I don’t loathe you.” She blurted out.

“What?”

“Luke, he said you thought I hated you after that night, I don’t,” she explained.

“Luke?”

“Yes, your publicist.”

“How…”

“He’s on set here, with Emma Watson, he came over to me and we got talking about you.”

Tom’s face erupted into a smile, mentally thanking Luke, who he had been convinced was against his feelings for her. “Elle, I…When are you home?”

She hesitated in responding. “I’m not sure.”

“Where are you filming?”

“Shepperton Studios.”

“Wait, in London?”

“Yes.”

“What time are you finished?” He demanded. Benedict made hand gestures to tell him to calm down. “Sorry, I just, I need to speak to you face to face, I didn’t know you were so close, please, can I come by later, and we can talk?” He stated more calmly; Benedict nodded approvingly.

“I…I’m not sure Tom.” Tom’s heart sank. “I think we have two more scenes to do, but it’s delayed until one of the actors comes back to set, he had some sort of photoshoot to do earlier and still hasn’t returned.”

Tom took a breath to compose himself, she was not saying no to meeting up, simply not able to give him a time. “It’s about a half-hour from my house to the studios, how about you text when you are nearly finished, and I can come get to you?”

“That’s not necessary Tom, I can get a taxi into the city and then get the Tube.” Benedict shook his head violently, indicating to his watch.

“No, it’ll be late by then; no way should you be going on the Tube alone at that hour.” Benedict nodded in agreement.

“What, scared I would run into one of those creepy clowns?”

“No, I am trying to save the clown, I have a feeling you’d probably kick him in the crotch.”

“I probably would.” She giggled back. “Okay, fine, I will text you with about an hour or so left; so if it suits, you can come, happy?”

“Tremendously so.” Tom beamed.

“I guess I’ll see you later then, bye Tom.”

“Bye Elle.” He waited to hear the sound of her hanging up before he took the phone from his ear. “Well…”

“You look terrified.” Ben scoffed.

“What am I going to do?”

“You are going to leave this bathroom, you are going to go home, get some rest, shower and wait for the woman you are nigh on stalking to ring or text you, then you are going to go and, I would wager, make an absolute tit of yourself in front of her.” Tom glared at him. “Well, you asked. What are you going to do with regards food; I mean, it’s three now.” He checked his watch. “And she won’t be done until at least six or seven, catering probably finishes at four, and you need to sleep.”

“I keep telling her about that Indian you suggested, we could get something from there,” Tom suggested.

“Right, and what are you going to do then, go back to yours? Do you even know where she is staying?”

“Shit.” Tom became frustrated again. “Why is this so hard? Was it always this hard?”

“Courting women? Not that I recall, I mean, as you know, I was with Olivia for so long, before that were the usual brief youth romances, but with Sophie, everything seemed so…much more difficult, I mean, I felt pressure to get it right.”

“Were you attracted to her beforehand?”

“No, I just decided to ask her out for no reason, of course…” Benedict snarked. “Look, do not push her too fast, your home could suggest that you are interested in one thing in particular, and it is not a deep meaningful conversation, you need to make sure not to give off too much of that air.”

“But we always spend time together at my mother’s.”

“In the living room with your mother present or close by, that’s a tad different to your home; the personification of a bachelor pad, just you and her, no mother.” Tom’s facial expression changed slightly, “And no, I am not going to be there. That is just weird, besides, you two need to figure out whatever this thing between you is by yourselves, no one holding your hands for you.”

Tom nodded, taking out his phone. “I need to talk to Luke.”

“Why?”

“Because he can tell me what they were talking about, so then I know where I stand with her.”

“We are never leaving this fucking toilet.” Benedict cursed as he waited for Tom to call his publicist.

*

“Well, if it isn’t the famous Tom Hiddleston.” Luke Evans joked as Tom sat in his car close to the gates of the set. “What brings you around these parts?” he leant down to look at Tom in the car.

“I am waiting on a friend of mine, she’s working on the movie with you.”

“It’s not Watson is it, I mean, we all know you are going for the mid-twenties girls these days.” Tom winced slightly at Evans’ joke. “Sorry man, no malice meant.”

“I only have myself to blame.” Tom shrugged. “No, her name is Danielle, she’s the....”

“Ah, Danni, yeah, she’s just sorting out one or two things inside.” Luke smiled. “Wait, are you and her a thing now?”

“No, she is just a good friend.”

“‘Good Friend’ huh?” Luke did not seem the least bit convinced. “Well, your ‘good friend’ is getting a lot of interest from a few people, so I would think about sorting changing the -ood to -irl very quickly if I were you.”

“I don’t under…oh right, thanks for the warning.” Tom decided to not say any more on the subject, a pang of jealousy flowing through him for a moment. “How is it going here?”

“Ah, well it’s grand, not groundbreaking, I mean, it has been done before, but still, Disney pays well enough.” The other man smiled. “What are your plans for the next few months?”

“Nothing much, a few things here and there, mostly to do with Kong and Thor, the usual.”

“Nice piece in Interview by the way.” Luke winked. “I dare say your little legion on girlies adored that.”

“Well, after everything in the summer…”

“Speaking of which, is there a reason why Miller can’t get through to you, she has the same number I have, but her call wouldn’t go through?”

“Yeah, I had a bug in my system, it’s rectified now, though.”

Evan’s looked at him curiously. “A bug you say? Does this bug have a name?”

“Yes, it does, and no, I am not repeating it.”

“You don’t need to man, I am reading very well between the lines here.” Luke scoffed before looking up. “I best be heading away for myself, I have my own plans for the evening.” He slapped the top of the car and walked off.

Tom did not get to say for him to enjoy himself before he realised the reason the actor had scarpered. He smiled anxiously at Danielle, who waved nervously as she approached the car. As though he had been electrocuted, he opened the car door and jumped out, or would have had he not been still tied in by his seatbelt before untying it and running to the passenger side door. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Danielle smiled back nervously. “That’s not necessary.”

“No, I don’t mind.” He smiled, opening the door to let her in.

“Whoever was in here last is a far taller person than me, I feel like I am in the boot.”

Tom laughed. “Yeah, well, you know, anyone seems tall next to you.”

“Ass.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

Happy that everything seemed so normal between them, Tom rushed back to his side of the car and jumped back in. “So, have you eaten?”

“Yeah, well at three, so, I guess that’s really a no.” she corrected, checking her watch.

“That’s a no,” Tom confirmed.

“What about you? You look jetlagged.”

“Are you trying to tell me I look old?”

“Old, how did you get that from jetlagged?” she looked at him oddly. “No, you look like you do every time I collected you from the airport, out on your feet, as though you want to sleep for a week.”

“Yeah, that sounds accurate enough for my current state.” Tom conceded. “But I did get a few hours sleep this afternoon.”

“Afternoon? You only got back today?” Tom nodded. “You should have said something. If you are too tired, we could meet another day.”

“No. No, I need to see you today, to talk to you today.” He explained.

“Sounds serious.” Danielle looked at her hands.

“Well, not serious as in a bad way, but we do need to talk. I have a great idea of where we can eat.”

“It’s not public is it?” she asked fearfully.

“No, it’s a takeaway near my house, it’s the one I was telling you about.”

“That sounds good, it better be as good as you say it is.”

“It is, I promise.” The smile on her face was encouraging as far as Tom was concerned, he could only wait and see how the evening went.

[ajapablog]

Corona Chronicles I

Day two of social isolation entailed drinking copious amounts of coffee to suppress my appetite so I don’t gain tonnes of weight (very easy to do given that our pantry is overflowing), grading, doing laundry, drinking beer, making and eating pizza (I’m telling you, I am going to blow up like a balloon in the next few weeks unless I stick to one meal a day) and reading random news. I did not get any writing done. So here I am faux-writing to get rid of the guilt. I want to see if I can write a blog post every day till things get slightly more normal. 

In the News:

The man who caught the virus again:  A 40-something-year old Mr. Wang of Hubei, China who took a full month to recover from the virus was tested positive again. See: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-8055857/Coronavirus-patient-recovered-disease-tests-positive-four-days-later.html

Americans try to buy-out scientific knowledge on potential vaccination against the virus:  A German company has been offered huge sums of money by the United States for breakthrough scientific knowledge on vaccination against the virus. This bothers me because this is a pandemic and scientific knowledge should be shared. Although, because I live in the US, if I get Covid 19, I might have a good shot at inoculation. I remember that in the Early Modern Period, China would hire experts and pay copious amounts of money to all kinds of Europeans for their superior cartographic skills. Things don’t seem to change much, do they? See: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/15/world/europe/cornonavirus-vaccine-us-germany.html

The virus mutates: Viruses are the worst. They map on to our genetic information and they mutate making them utterly difficult to fight. The reason they are so stubborn is because they become a part of our evolutionary journey. The ones that mutate have no cure. They have the possibility of destroying us and destroying themselves in the process, unless they jump species, which this one seems to do fairly easily. This stupid virus might outlive our entire species. Arrrgghhhh. See: https://www.todayonline.com/world/chinese-studies-link-quarantines-coronavirus-mutations-may-make-it-more-insidious

The virus stops us from going out:  JB Pritzker, the governor of Illinois ordered all bars and restaurants closed, effectively instituting a shutdown. I have mixed feelings about this: not only because I miss going out but because I think a lot of people live on tips. But on the flip side, Pritzker’s critique of the federal government was scathing. I’d take Chicago over New York, a progressive governor over a loony bin TV star turned head of state any day. See: https://chicago.cbslocal.com/2020/03/15/gov-pritzker-announces-closure-of-all-illinois-bars-and-restaurants-effective-monday-due-to-coronavirus-crisis/

Italians Sing Against Social Isolation:  I feel terribly sorry for Italians. I texted my Italian friend asking if her family is alright (she’s in France herself with her husband) but she seemed slightly annoyed that I asked. Maybe she has been getting that question a lot so I didn’t push it. She told me they are in quarantine and doing okay, I left it at that. But the most heartening news is that Italians sang from their windows to each other fighting against social death and isolation. My mom who recently discovered Bella Ciao was delighted to report that Italians ironically sang this resistance song filled with imagery of death and martyrdom in these dark hours. Speaking of which, maybe this is the time to watch Money Heist on Netflix. See: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxakLRW9oZ4

The Runaway Nagpur Bride:  Everyone has been talking about her. Apparently, a google techie and his newly wed bride (25 year old *eye roll*) went on a vacation around Europe. The guy started feeling sick. Before he even got tested, his wife ran away. She (what a fucking idiot!) took a plane, a train, a bus and an auto rickshaw and went all the way back to Agra to her parents, exposing thousands, if not millions, of Indians to the virus. The Indian health authorities had a tough time tracing everyone who could have come in contact with her. Furthermore, when her parents evaded the attempts from authorities to retrieve and test her, the district magistrate had to issue a warrant and she was finally “captured,” tested (positive) and isolated.  What a nightmare! But also as I was telling a friend: very Indian. In the small pox epidemic of 1889, Indians kept running away from hospitals where they were forced to stay in isolation. See: https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/agra/techie-had-not-tested-positive-when-his-wife-left-bengaluru-google/articleshow/74618637.cms

Love in the time of Corona:  I like the internet’s play on Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s famous novel Love in the Time of Cholera. I, unfortunately, have not read the entire book; my dad is a big Marquez fan but I don’t think I understand magic realism too well. I digress. The internet’s play on Marquez’s book is great because it reminds us that we are after all, human, all too human. I don’t think I would’ve liked to live alone during these times, I would’ve gone insane with existential dread. I might hate my roommates at the end of this but I am grateful that they exist right now. I think I feel some kind of love towards them. Death makes eros and desire for life (which i call love) all the more urgent and dire. I am scared of dying alone and unloved or dying without having loved enough.  I call my parents every morning and every night before I go to bed. I worry about my sister. I tell myself that if I emerge out of this, and the world still exists in some form that it does now, I want to have a child. I don’t have illusions or expectations of love from any man. They are nice but I probably confuse them and antagonize them. So I don’t expect them to understand the bizarre mess that I am. Ah well. I want to have a child, with or without a man, if I survive this. (I hope my parents don’t read this.) I am slightly peeved that this virus will most likely ruin my plans to go to India over the summer to do my research, work my summer job. I guess I might just have to wait till next summer to go back. 

For now, I have to go to a meeting tomorrow. I really dread getting out of this house. More updates soon. 

Bella Ciao. 

[long-bodyswap]

The Relic

Benjamin Michael Monahan, a 37-year-old general contractor, arrived home after a particularly bad day at work at a new construction site. Ben, a big man, stands 6’2” and weighs a solid 200 pounds. He has a burly, muscular body covered in fine brown hair.

He started to tap a cigarette from a pack stashed in his shirt pocket when his son announced dinner was ready.

Ben stared at his 12-year-old son, Brad, a perpetual challenge to a man who sets much store by physical and mental toughness. He surveyed the boy, trying to not make his disapproval too evident.

A skinny kid, Brad stood about 5’3”, weighed only about 100 pounds. He makes good grades, but sometimes Ben wished Brad didn’t lean so far to the nerdy side. He felt some pride in his son’s intelligence, but he knew the kid might have an easier time if he didn’t spent so much time at the books.

He slid the cigarette back into the almost empty pack.

For the moment, Ben only wanted to feel his stomach and put his hard day behind him. After dinner, maybe he could kick back, enjoy a smoke and watch some television.

Brad only wanted to forget the horrible day at school. Not a day goes by without his being picked on by older and bigger kids.

Ben saw that Brad had prepared a meal of chicken and potatoes. He appreciated that Brad didn’t shirk the household duties. Still, he sometimes felt a lingering sense that maybe he shouldn’t push all the domestic duties off on his son.

But, with just the two of them, and with Ben often getting home late from work, Brad preparing meals made perfect sense.

As they eat, Ben noticed Brad kept putting down his fork and picking up an odd piece of jewelry. The object looks like a stone amulet tied around a leather thong.

“What’s that?” Ben asked.

“Oh, it’s an old Indian artifact,” Brad said. “I have to do a report on it for school.”

Ben nodded and reached for his can of beer.

Brad, drinking from a glass of milk, looked toward his dad. “I wish I didn’t have to bother with school. I hate school.”

Ben felt a surge of irritation. He couldn’t help but feel a little upset that Brad has no idea how tough the real world is.

“If you knew what it was like to work a hard job, you’d be thankful for school.”

“Never,” Brad said fervently.

“You just don't know what it is like,” Ben said. “School's a breeze."

“But Dad, I...”

“I don't want to hear any more, Brad,” Ben barked in anger. “Just shut up and eat your dinner.”

“OK...” Brad began, but quickly returned to his basic complaint. “But the kids, Dad, they all pick on me. Just because I'm so short and I have to write a report on this stupid Indian artifact...”

“They pick on you because you have to write a report?” Ben had almost tuned out his son’s whining complaints.

“No, not because of that,” Brad said. I'll bet no one picks on you Dad. You’re such a big, strong guy!”

Ben pushed back his plate and removed a cigarette from the pack. He lit up. "You need to toughen up, Brad," he said after taking his first puff.

“Dad, I'm still a kid...I'm trying...I mean look at this stupid artifact thing...what can I write about it?”

Ben puffed furiously on the cigarette. "That should be the least of your problems,” his voice sounded a little harsh. “Wait until you have to get a job. Then you'll miss writing your little school reports."

Brad picked up the artifact again. “ At least if I were you and had a job I wouldn't have to write stupid reports...”

"You should have to work a job every day like I do," Ben said. He reached and grasped one end of the artifact. "I'd love to have your life again."

At that point, father and son feel a sharp, static shock.

“WHOA Dad...” Brad sounded excited. “Did you feel that?”

“What the hell was that?” Ben asked. He stared at the artifact held in their hands.

“Maybe it was this stupid artifact, Dad,” Brad said. “You think?”

“It's just some old relic, Brad,” Ben said. He kept puffing on his cigarette.

“You sure, Dad? Cause that felt really weird...”

Ben grunted in disgust. “To be honest, I'd think your school could teach you something more important,” he said in a tone of aggravation.

“Like what Dad?”

“Like...what you'll need to know in the real world.”

“What kind of things, Dad?”

“Jesus, Brad! You've got a lot to learn. Take my word for it.” His cigarette is failing to calm him down. That static shock did leave him jittery, he realized.

“Why do you need to smoke, Dad?” Brad asked, changing the topic.

“Uh...I just need it... to relax. It helps me unwind,” Ben said. He didn’t know why he had trouble giving an answer. But, after enjoying his supper after a long day, there was nothing he enjoyed more than puffing on a cigarette or, better yet, a cigar.

He took a long drag and noticed that he isn't exhaling it.

However, when Brad responded with another question, the smoke Ben inhaled is jetting out of his son’s nose and nostrils.

Brad doesn’t notice it at first, but Ben stared hard at his son, watching the smoke drift and thin.

“How does it help you to relax Dad?”

"It just does..." He shook his head, confused. He felt very strange and light-headed. Ben took another drag from his cigarette. He inhaled as normal and again the smoke jetted from his son’s nose and mouth when Brad spoke again, demanding more information on his dad’s need to smoke. Brad still doesn't notice until Ben brings the odd observation to his son’s attention.

“Let’s try a little test,” Ben suggested.

“Are you feeling all right, Dad?”

"No...I mean...what's going on?" Ben saw his son staring intently at him and at the drifting smoke currents.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

Ben rubbed his eyes. "Something's not right," he muttered.

“What’s not right? Why do you keep staring at me in that weird way Dad?”

"How are you feeling, Brad?" Ben asked. He tried to regulate his breathing and slow his racing heartbeat.

“I'm good...only...I don't know...there's like a weird feeling in my chest...doesn't hurt...it's just...I dunno...weird.”

Ben took another puff.

“What is so weird about you smoking a cigarette, Dad?” Brad asked, as the smoke jets out of his nose and mouth. Somehow, he still does not notice the exhalations of smoke.

"The smoke...that's impossible. Brad, don't you see?"

“What...that you smoke...that's not impossible, Dad.” Brad giggled. “Stop fooling with me, Dad, come on...”

Ben leaped up from the table. More smoke streamed from Brad’s mouth and nostrils. "How are you doing that?"

“Doing what, Dad?”

"Maybe I need to lie down..."

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Brad sounded suddenly fearful.

"I feel so...so light...and weak," Ben said.

“Why don't you sit down and finish your smoke, Dad? I’ll clear the table.”

Ben rubbed his eyes again. "Yeah...that might help." He left the kitchen and took a seat in his chair in the living room.

“Feeling better now, Dad?” Brad called from the kitchen.

“I'm not sure. Are you feeling ok now?” He lit up a new cigarette, but his hands are a little unsteady.

“Yeah, of course Dad, I feel...” Now, finally, Brad realized that he is exhaling smoke from his nose and mouth. “I feel!? DAD?!

“I'm ....I'm...” Brad raced from the kitchen into the living room. “Look at me, Dad!”

Brad opened his eyes and looked. His first thought is that he is somehow looking into a mirror.

He is looking at himself.

"Brad?"

“DAD?” He blew smoke out his nose and mouth. “But how? I mean, I don't smoke. You always told me not to…”

Ben felt very dizzy. “What's happened?”

At that moment, the cigarette that was in Ben’s hand appears in his son’s hand. Brad almost involuntarily brought it up to his mouth with his arm — to his mouth!

Brad inhaled. DAD?! I'm...I'm...I'm smoking your cigarette!”

Ben is getting more disoriented as he watch himself from...

“Where am I? Brad!"

His voice! It sounded like Brad's.

“Dad? What is… what 's happ—“ His voice cracked much lower “—ening to me?”

Ben heard his own voice. "Brad, something's happened...to us..."

“Dad! Where’s your beard?”

Ben raised his hand to touch a smooth cheek. "No!"

Brad continued to smoke the cigarette naturally like he has been doing so for years.

Ben ran into the kitchen, to the table, and grabbed the artifact. "It did this to us!"

Ben stared.

"Dad, everything...is bigger!" Brad exclaimed. “Dad, I itch all over! Make it stop!”

At the same time, he continued dragging on the cigarette like it was natural for him to do so.

Ben fumbled with the artifact. His hands…they’re not his big hands. "Did you do something! Think! Brad, what did you do to us?"

“It’s not my fault!” Brad began to cry in his still developing 37-year-old body.

"I sure as hell didn't cause this!" But Ben’s normally loud voice is higher.

As Brad raised his hands to his mouth to continue smoking his dad’s...now his own...cigarette, he felt his beard against his hands.

“Dad! My face. It has got hair all over it...I have a beard! Just like…just like you.”

Ben watched his big hands move across his...or rather his son’s...beard.

In dismay, he ran his hands over his face. “It's so smooth,” he whispered. And, he noticed, he had to look up when he watched Brad touch his beard.

“Daddy, why am I so big?” Brad began to sob. “Make it stop! Please, daddy, do something.”

Ben felt only panic. “Oh fuck! Calm down,” Ben said savagely in his squeaky voice. “Just don't cry.”

Between sobs, his new huge body shook. “I can’t help it,” Brad wailed. “Look at me! I'm...I'm... you!”

Now that his son had voiced the undeniable truth of the situation, Ben almost felt like crying. "And I...I...I'm you!" Ben said. “I have got to have a cigarette.” He ran to the table and took one from his pack.

His small hands trembled as he attempted to light up.

“Are you all right, Dad?”

Brad, in his huge, adult body, continued sobbing.

"Do I look okay! Jesus! What are we going to do?" Ben hated the high-pitched sound of his son’s voice producing the words he spoke.

“Don't yell at me, Dad! Please! I didn't do anything.”

“You had to do something, Brad. Think back. We've got to figure this out."

Ben felt almost afraid to look down at his body. It's so scrawny and under-developed. Hands still shaking, he took a drag on the cigarette he had managed to light. He began to cough violently. He continued coughing for a long time.

His son watched concerned as his father coughed.

“What…the hell?” Ben cried in a strangled voice. He hadn’t expected that. His new 12-year-old lungs were certainly not ready for that.

“I figured it out, Dad. You can't smoke in my body...you'll get busted.”

At the same time, Brad grabbed the cigarette from his father’s hand, put it to his mouth, inhaled deeply and let out a satisfying exhale. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Cool,” Brad said. “I can smoke now.”

"Stop that!" Ben ordered. "What are you doing!"

“But Dad...I'm...like...YOU now,” Brad said in a husky, excited voice. “And you smoke, right? Well, I kind of like smoking, too!”

"You're not really me, Brad,” Ben said. “Stop fooling around."

“Sorry,” Brad said. “But can I can smoke some more...it feels really good to me.”

"Stop!" Ben said as he watched Brad, now in his former adult body, take deep puffs.

“Why Dad? It's no fair!”

Ben, in a rage, stepped forward and grabbed Brad’s arm and tried to pull it down. The immediate failure caused him to quickly realize he is too weak to even budge his son’s arm.

“What are you doing, Dad?” Brad asked. “You wanna wrestle or something?”

“What?” Ben asked. “No…”

“I thought you wanted to wrestle with me.”

“No, I don’t,” Ben said as calmly as he could manage. “You may be in my body, but I'm still in charge.”

“ I always let you win, remember?” Brad asked, laughing hard afterwards.

"Brad, take this seriously," Ben pleaded.

“Okay.” Brad took a deep inhale from his cigarette. He began to feel much more comfortable with the cigarette, and he began to thoroughly enjoy the sensation.

Ben tried to grab his son’s arm again, with both hands this time.

“Dad, I thought you said I had to be serious and that you didn't want to wrestle,” Brad said.

“What?” Ben began to back away as his son, now in Ben’s former adult body, advanced on him.

“I'm just doing what you told me.” He made a deep inhalation on his cigarette. “ JEEZ!”

"Put that damn cigarette down!”

“Oh, but Dad!” Brad said. “It's so cool and it feels so good and it tastes so good. Come on. You never let me have any fun.”

"This isn't a time for fun,” Ben insisted. “Where's that artifact?"

“I think you left it in the kitchen,” Brad said.

"Get it! We need to study it!"

“All right, Dad,” Brad said. “Hey, Dad. I'm thirsty. Can I have something to drink when I'm in the kitchen?”

"Sure." Ben answered. He wanted to have a good look at that artifact. There had to be a way to get him back into his adult body.

In the kitchen, Brad reached into the fridge and absent-mindedly pulled out a can of beer, opened it and started drinking it.

Almost as an afterthought, he realized how good it tasted.

“Here's the artifact, Dad,” Brad said, returning to the living room and giving the object to his father. He began to notice now how silly his dad looked in his old body.

“Brad! Put that beer back!”

“Beer? But I don't drink...WHOA...I got a ...got a ...can of beer...and I was drinking it,” Brad said. “Hmmm, it tastes real good. Dad, can I have a little more? Please?”

“No!” Ben exclaimed.

“Jeez! I can't smoke and I can't have a beer when I'm you,” Brad argued. “Why can you do all those things when you were in your adult body?”

“Because it was my adult body,” Ben replied. “You're still only 12 years old!”

“Yeah, but I’ll be 13 next month,” Brad said. “Dad, don't I have like an adult body? Your body?”

“Yes,” Ben admitted uneasily. “But we need to change that. That weird artifact you brought home must be the key. Where did the school get it?”

“Some of my buddies in the Boy Scouts said they found it on a camping trip near the old Indian burial grounds.”

“Your buds!” Ben screamed. “I thought a teacher gave it to you!”

Brad became evasive. “Ahhh, well, you see Dad... uhhhh..”

“You shouldn't mess with things like that!” Ben shouted in an angry tone.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” To Ben’s dismay, he had to watch his son, now in his huge adult body, begin to sob again. “I didn't find it...and you are saying like this is all my fault.”

“Will you quit crying?” Ben begged. “When will you grow up!”

“I'm only a kid, Dad, and I'm scared. It was cool for a little while to be you, but I don't know all the stuff you do about building stuff...”

Ben watched in horror as his huge, manly body became convulsed with Brad’s frantic sobbing.

“Look...sorry...we don't have to worry about any of that yet,” Ben promised. “We'll get this all cleared up before then!

“When, Dad? I gotta go to school tomorrow?” Brad said. “Unless…” His body convulsed with laughter instead of sobs. “Hey Dad. Can you go to school for me? That would be awesome! You would be like the smartest kid in the class! Come on!”

Ben’s eyes widened. “I am not going back to junior high!”

Brad, not having heard, continued gleefully. “I can call in sick and hang around the house and watch cable all day. So cool!”

“It isn’t going to happen!” Ben insisted.

“Oh, come on, Dad. For one day! Please?”

“No! Aren't you listening to me! I've got to go to work...not go to school.”

Brad grinned. “Dad, how are you gonna do your work in my body?” Brad wanted to know. “ I mean you are kinda scrawny...that’s what you tell me.”

“That's why we need to know more about the artifact,” Ben said, increasingly desperate to keep Brad focused on the immediate problem. “How did you mean to research it?”

“Get online and search the Internet to find out what all that weird writing means that's on it...see on the sides...”

Ben turned over the amulet and stared at some weird symbols. He slapped his forehead in frustration. “Why didn't you mention that earlier?”

“Dad, everything got kinda weird and stuff before...well you know...”

“Maybe we should log online and start looking up sites about that weird Indian relic?” Ben suggested, staring up, unable to shake his awe at his own huge body now occupied so awkwardly by his 12-year-old son.

He took the chair in front of the computer, but found it alarming to notice how large the chair now seemed. He knew that the former adjustments he had made to his seat were high enough to keep his feet from touching the carpet.

And, at the same time, he felt Brad’s huge body leaning in against the back of the chair, reminding him yet again of the drastic change.

He didn’t like the reminder.

He stared at the screen, his mind almost a blank, trying to think of the best way to conduct a search.

”Hey Dad...did you find anything yet...I wanna look...” His son’s excited tone sounded strange being produced with his former adult, husky voice.

“What is that damn thing called anyway? I don't know what to type in the search engine.” Ben hated the shrill sound of his higher voice.

“Uhhh...try Indian artifacts Dad...”

He typed in the suggestion and got several thousand hits. "We've got to narrow down the search!" Ben said in exasperation.

“How we gonna do that huh?”

"I don't know." His voice sounded tired, and he felt a strong craving for another cigarette.

But he didn't need another coughing fit.

“Dad come on... I wanna find out how this stupid thing works...”

"That's what I'm trying to do!" Ben slammed his small fingers down in frustration against the keyboard.

“Jeez chill Dad...You don't wanna break the PC...”

"Ok. ok. Maybe...Brad, do you know the Indian tribe this thing comes from?”

“Uhhh…I think so....maybe....Pete told me when he gave me this thing...”

"Yeah?" Ben craned his neck back and looked up. He felt a tremor of shock to see his huge former body standing, looming practically, behind him. "Think, dammit. What tribe?"

“OK OK don't yell at me Dad...I'm trying my best...I'm scared too you know…”

Ben tried to soften his attitude. "Sorry, I know. But I got the worse part of this deal, believe me!"

“You?” Brad’s voice boomed. “Look at me!”

“But, dammit, I'm only a kid!” Ben protested.

“And I got a beard...and all this hair...and...and....” The words all merged, yet again, into fearful sobbing.

Brad needed several moments to stop sobbing and speak again. “And I'm scared because I don't know how to be a man...”

“But you're an adult! And you may have to start acting like it. You need to quit crying and focus! Okay?" Ben’s squeaky voice sounded, at least to his ears, neither in charge or reassuring.

Sniffling, Brad tried to smile. “Okay, okay, Dad...I'll try.” He blew his nose and smiled.

“All right. What did Pete tell you about the relic?”

“That these Indians helped the first Pilgrims. It’s something with an A... I'm trying to remember...”

“Brad!” Ben shouted shrilly, instantly regretting the irritation in his voice.

“Algonquins!” Brad exclaimed. “That’s it! The Algonquin tribe.”

Ben quickly typed the tribe’s name into the computer and waited for the search to yield results.

“What's it say, Dad? What's it say, huh?”

“Let me look,” Ben snapped as he felt Brad crowd him with his huge, muscular body. "I can do this."

“Okay, jeez!” Brad said.

Ben groaned. “It says there are 15,900 results! We can't wade through all that.”

“What are we gonna do, Dad?” Brad asked. He leaned forward, pressing the front of his huge adult body against his dad’s scrawny back.

“How about some air?” Ben complained.

But, as he pushed his chair back from the keyboard, he turned and saw Brad fumbling with the artifact in his big, beefy hands.

“Be careful with that!” Ben ordered. He made a grab for it.

“Nuh-uh,” Brad said, and he laughed a hearty laugh. He jerked the artifact far out of his father’s current reach. “Don't worry, Dad. I’m a whiz at juggling.” Ben, irritated by his son’s antics, leaped and grabbed for the artifact. He managed to tap the artifact, which knocked the relic out of Brad’s hands.

“Dad!” Brad shrieked. “Get it!”

Ben reached, but his arms proved too short. The relic dropped toward the floor. At the last second, Brad shouted “I got it!” and hurled his 6'2" body on the floor. The relic landed on his back.

“Ouch!” Brad cried out.

Ben felt his small body trembling. “Dammit, Brad!” Ben shouted. “Be more careful.”

He reached down and plucked the relic off his son’s back.

“But it didn't break, Dad...jeez I told you I had it covered.” Brad began to giggle.

“That may be the only way to switch us back,” Ben yelled. “You've got to be more responsible.”

“I'll try, Dad. I am sorry if I get a little...I know sometimes I'm...uhhh...”

"What?"

“I know sometimes I'm a jerk...okay...but I'm just a kid...cut me some slack, Dad,” Brad complained.

“I cut you slack all the time, Brad,” Ben said in a cross tone.

“Yeah, right,” Brad said with a husky tone of sarcasm. “You are always on me about toughening up.”

"Listen, you get away with a lot more than I did when I was your age!" Ben shouted.

Brad laughed. “Well, now you are my age again!”

Ben didn’t want to think of that fact. He stared at the computer screen. "Maybe we ought to get a good night's rest,” he said. “Work fresh on this problem. Or maybe, God, maybe it will just reverse overnight."

“But Dad...I mean...what about school tomorrow? I can't...you can't...”

Ben knows his son is right, but his mind feels so fuzzy he can barely concentrate.

“Oh, come on, Dad, just a little longer? I'm not tired at all...what's wrong with you?”

Ben realized that, normally, it would be past his son’s bedtime.

"Well, I had a hard day at work, and I guess this whole situation is freaking me out."

“You’re freaked?” Brad said in the husky voice that kept Ben so off balance. Brad laughed. “Have you had a good look at me, Dad?”

Ben swallowed. “Yeah, believe me, I am very aware of the situation.”

Brad giggled. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean my Dad is 12 years old now.” He giggled more. “This is just so weird.”

Ben yawned and stretched his arms. They look so skinny over his head.

“What’s the matter, Dad?”

"Let's just get a little rest. We can wake up early and start again.”

“Do I have to go to bed, Dad? I'm not tired. Really!”

Ben felt that he is getting more tired just having the argument. "Yes! You do!"

Ben logged off the computer. He stood and walked toward his room.

“Shoot, Dad, you never let me have any fun! It's not fair,” Brad complained as he lumbered down the hall behind his much shorter father.

Ben heard his son’s big feet padding heavily across the floor behind him. He walked into his bedroom and stopped in some dismay as he sized up the huge king-sized bed in his room.

He heard Brad walk on toward his room.

But, only an instant later, he heard his son’s booming voice calling for him.

Ben rushed to his son’s room. "Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Dad, I think I'm gonna have a problem sleeping in this bed.” Brad sat on the edge of the twin bed. They heard the box springs groan under his weight.

Ben groaned. "Ok. Maybe we ought to switch rooms. Will that work?"

Brad’s face showed his excitement. “You mean I can sleep in your room? That is way cool, Dad.”

"Well, it makes sense. I guess that bed would be a bit cramped for you now."

Brad got a running start and raced down the hall. “This is gonna be so cool!”

Ben heard the sound of his 200-pound-son leaping up and down on his bed.

“Uh, try not to break the bed, ok son?" Ben asked, looking in on the incredulous scene.

Brad stopped, got off the bed. He looked extremely red-faced. “Sorry, Dad. I got carried away.”

Ben yawned again. "Just get some sleep. Okay?" He felt wearier with each passing moment.

“I'll try, Dad.” He paused, turned and gave his dad a crushing good night hug.

"Sleep well," Ben managed to say when his son released him from the monstrous bear hug. He turned and walked away, still amazed at the strength in his son’s hug.

“You too, Dad. See you in the morning.”

Ben closed the door behind him and stared at his son’s small bed. Actually, as he looked closer, the bed looked rather large now.

A short distance down the hall, Brad closed his door and realized that he is now in his Dad's private domain. His Dad’s bedroom always used to be the only part of the house off limits to Brad.

Brad sat on the edge of his father’s huge king-sized bed. The mattress even felt different from the one in his bedroom.

The novelty of everything made Brad more than a little eager to go "exploring.”

At the same time, just down the hall, Ben looked around at the boyish surroundings of his son’s room. He saw that Brad had a few posters on the wall. He sighed as he slipped off his shirt. Unfortunately, he looked up and found his new reflection in the mirror on the back of the door.

"Damn!” Ben said aloud in his boyish voice. “I'm so scrawny."

907

Brad, on the other hand, found his new body anything but skinny.

He walked over to the mirror on the back of his Dad’s door and took off his dad’s flannel shirt. He left his dad’s T-shirt in place for the moment.

Standing, gazing at the mirror, Brad marveled at all the hair on his new body. He liked the look of the well-defined pecs pressing against the tight T-shirt.

“Whoa! I am a real man!” Brad said. “Cool!”

In the other room, Ben’s reaction to finding himself trapped in his son’s undeveloped body turned out to be much more subdued. He stared at his reflection. His chest looked smooth and completely devoid of hair.

“Hell, I don't even have much of a chest,” Ben whispered aloud.

At the same time, Brad slipped off his T-shirt to fully see his pecs, his abs...his biceps...

"I’m Superman!” Brad exclaimed and began to laugh again. He slid his hands over the hair covering his massive chest.

“This feels so weird. It…” Brad couldn’t help giggling…”tickles.”

Down the hall, in his son’s room, still transfixed with the reflection in the mirror, Ben dared to unbutton his jeans and let them slide down to his ankles.

••••

In his former room, his son, now in Ben’s body, is also doing almost the very same.

Brad saw that he is wearing gray boxer briefs that show off his dad’s — well, now his own — very nice package.”

In his son’s room, Ben has stripped down and is wearing only a pair of white briefs, but there's no outline in them at all.

••••

Meanwhile, Brad is rummaging around his Dad’s room, opening drawers and looking inside the closet. Inside the closet, he made a discovery that excited him.

“Whoa! Dad's leather jacket. So cool. And it probably fits me now!”

Brad slipped the leather jacket onto his huge frame. In the next instant, he dared to tug down his boxer briefs. He looked at himself in the mirror, staring at his huge body dressed in only the leather jacket and the tight boxer briefs.

“I look so cool!” Brad exclaimed.

••••

“I look pathetic,” Ben said to himself as he stared in a mirror. "Oh my God!" His voice is panicky as he realized there's only a little fuzz growing on his crotch.

••••

Brad stood at the mirror and took down the front of his boxer briefs to reveal his father’s — now his — 7" soft cock surrounded by a nest of thick bristly dark pubes.

“WHOOOOOA!” Brad exclaimed.

He hasn’t really seen his dad's cock lately, and now he can even reach down and touch it.

••••

Meantime, Ben pulled down the cotton briefs and stood naked in front of the mirror in Brad’s room. He felt like crying as he stared at the thin, tiny dick.

••••

“Wow! It's so— so—“ Brad struggled for words as he reached down and cupped his cock in one hand. “Big!”

He continued exploring his father’s room, wearing just his Dad’s leather jacket. “My leather jacket now,” Brad said and laughed.

••••

This is the biggest shock yet for Ben. He’s always felt really proud of his endowment. Now, it's all gone. Or might as well be.

But, as he stared down at it, he watched it get hard. It's still little more than a tiny prick, though.

He always knew that Brad appeared to be slow at developing, but he never guessed the kid was, well, still very much a kid.

••••

Brad found himself fond of the feeling as his new, big dick flopped around as he went from drawer to drawer in his father’s room until I come across his Dad’s humidor.

He opened the humidor and smelled the rich scent.

He picked up a cigar and held it in his hand.

It’s the first time he has ever held one before.

It’s nice and big and thick

“Wow! Dad’s cigars! Cool!”

He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it once very briefly and pulled it away again.

Then, more slowly, he put it back to his nose and took a very deep whiff. “Oh, that smells really, really good,” Brad said.

The smell even added to his gradual arousal — a fact that had escaped his attention at first as his cock became semi-hard.

“I wonder…” Brad said aloud, reasoning with a theory that had entered his mind. “Like, I'm my dad now, and my Dad smokes. It would be so cool if I could smoke one of his cigars.”

He tried to remember where his Dad keeps his lighter.

He walked to the dresser. Best he could remember, his Dad kept the lighter and the thing to cut the ends of the cigars on top of the dresser.

••••

Meanwhile, Ben has climbed into his son’s twin bed. He never bothered putting on any clothes, and for some reason, he can't pull the covers up yet. He is still too absorbed in noticing his new body.

•••••

Brad looked over and saw the brass punch and the lighter his Dad used for his cigar smoking. His newfound enthusiasm wanes when he worries about his father’s reaction. “Dad is gonna kill me if I smoke his cigar,” Brad said. “But hey...it's like I'm kinda Dad now...so...”

He picked up the brass punch. “Now let’s see if I can remember how Dad does it...”

••••

Naked in his son’s bed, still trying to come to terms with his change, Ben is shaken by a horrible thought. What if the change is somehow one that keeps him stuck in Brad’s body? What guarantee do they even have that he might eventually regain an adult body?

The frightening prospect caused one immediate reaction as his tiny, thin dick became rock hard.

••••

Brad put the golden thing at the end of the cigar and pushed down. “Cool!” Brad said.

••••

Ben reached down very tentatively and touched the little dick. He felt it stiffen.

••••

Brad put the cigar in his mouth. He looked into the mirror, saw himself still wearing the leather jacket and with the cigar in his mouth. Around the cigar, he managed to form the word, “Wow!”

••••

Ben had forgotten how sensitive a young dick could be. The sensation burned through his nerve impulses.

•••••

Brad tried to pull off an imitation of his Dad using the lighter.

He used his thumb, just like he has seen his Dad do, and clicked it with his thumb to open and...

The Zippo opened up. “Ahh, got it,” he said triumphantly. Then he pushed against this wheel thing and the lighter ignited.

He brought the flame to the end of the cigar.

He started puffing furiously on the cigar.

The cigar started to burn.

With every delicious puff, his body responded.

His puffing became more steady, slower.

“Hmmmmmmmmmmmm,” Brad murmured. “This tastes so—“ Brad puffed furiously. “—So good.”

He puffed harder. “It feel so—“ Brad groaned. “What the…”

Brad looked down in shock at his penis. “It's— it's getting bigger,” he cried in alarm. “UGGhh. What's happening?”

The entire time, he kept puffing furiously on the cigar he had smuggled from his Dad’s humidor.

He slipped off the leather jacket.

••••

In his son’s room, Ben began slowly rubbing his tiny, hard dick. It felt hyper sensitive.

••••

Brad stretched out on the bed, cigar clamped in his bearded jaw.

“I've never…” Brad groaned. “Never felt this way before.”

He started touching the huge cock to make it go down again. “Oh yeah!” Brad moaned.

He continued puffing fiercely on the cigar.

He leaned back on the bed and pushed his head onto his pillow. "Oh God!" Brad moaned as he stroked.

His hand cupped around his 9" hard dick. It throbbed, pulsed, lengthened and thickened. In between puffs on the cigar, he managed to voice his confusion. “I’ve never felt like this!”

He rubbed his dick tentatively. Slowly at first. Then, after he realized it felt really good, he kept stroking as he continued to savor his cigar.

The bed springs squeaked as Brad threw himself into this new activity. With every puff he took, he made his new body more aroused. His cock felt so much harder. Almost instinctively, Brad started rubbing his dick harder and faster.

“UUGH UGGH PUFFFFF PUFFFFFFF ARGGGGHHHH!”

He panted heavily. “This is, oh God, this is so…” Brad puffed more heavily on his cigar. “It’s so…oh my…”

1532

His breath came in hard, ragged gasps. He felt his body constrict. Cum sprays all over his hairy chest — his hairy abs, his hairy hand...all the way up to his hairy pecs.

Brad felt shocked when he experienced the incredible release and saw his huge cock explode.

“No, oh no!” Brad exclaimed. “What did I do?”

He leaped off the bed and started pacing. “What have I done?” Brad cried.

With the cigar still clamped firmly in place between his jaws, Brad raced from his room and down the hall.

“Dad! Dad! Are you awake? Dad?”

Ben froze in shock as his burst into the room and found him with his little fist wrapped around his little prick.

Brad stared in confusion. “Dad? What are you doing?”

“Brad! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” He puffed on the cigar. “I— I think I wet my, I mean your, bed.”

At the same time, Brad looked down and noticed the little stiff dick on his former body. “Hey, Dad. My penis never got like that. How did you make that happen?”

"Calm down,” Ben commanded. “Uh, Brad, it's normal.”

Suddenly, Ben saw something else to seize his attention. “What the hell? That's one of my cigars!”

“Uh, yeah, well, Dad, you see, I thought that since I am you…”

“Put it out!” Ben yelled. He leaped out of bed, stark naked.

“But Dad. It tastes so good. I really like it.” Brad stopped suddenly. “DAD! You’re not wearing any pajamas!”

Ben rushed toward his son, but the difference in their sizes became more pronounced the closer he approached. His face is barely level with Brad’s chest.

He noticed the cum drops on his son’s hairy chest.

“Aren’t you cold, Dad, not wearing any PJs?”

"I don't wear PJs.” Ben said in a soft voice as he looked up with a dawning awareness at Brad’s hulking body.

“Oh, sorry Dad. I didn't know.” Brad looked down, again impressed by his Dad’s much smaller size. “But what about me? I think I wet the bed. Please, don’t get mad at me.”

To Ben’s dismay, Brad continued to puff on the cigar.

His little dick has shriveled back up.

"It wasn't wetting the bed,” Ben said. “Son, it's just something that happens to men. Jesus, I thought I had maybe another year before I had to discuss this."

Brad appeared stunned. “You mean like it's NORMAL? But it's wet and I couldn't stop…”

“Yeah, it's normal,” Ben explained. Clearly uncomfortable, he looked up at his son and asked, “Don't they teach you this in school any more?”

“What don't they teach us in school, Dad?

“Sex.”

Ben noticed that his former dick now on his son has started to get hard again. “I mean, well, it's part of sex,” Ben said awkwardly.

Brad swallowed hard, noticed that his dick had stiffened again.

“Uh, son, do you remember that you saw me pulling on my dick when you came in the room?”

“Yeah,” Brad answered, and then he took several puffs on his cigar.

Ben cannot help but notice that his son’s erection is at full mast.

“Umm, Brad, you really, really need to stop puffing on that thing,” Ben said, well aware of the effect his cigar could have on him.

“Why?” Brad asked. “Taste kind of good, Dad. I like it.” He puffed more as his dick got harder and longer still.

Ben, running out of options, tried to reach up and grab the cigar. In the process, he accidentally brushing against the firm dick hanging between his son’s huge legs.

“Oh, Dad, wow. That felt nice,” Brad said.

Ben swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to..."

“Could you rub it some more,” Brad asked. “It seemed to help earlier when…”

Ben licked his lips. "I don't...no, I shouldn't do that...."

“Oh, please Daddy,” Brad said, taking three quick, deep puffs on his cigar. “It kinda hurts and I don't know how to make it normal again.”

To his dismay, Ben noticed that his own little stiffie had returned.

“Hey, Dad. Look! My, uh, I mean your penis is getting longer too. Mine never did that. Why does that happen, Dad?

"Brad, uh, it's something that happens, well, because, well, when a man gets excited."

“You mean like happy?” Brad asked as he puffed vigorously on the cigar.”

“Sort of. Dammit, Brad. That cigar's not helping!”

“Why? I like it. Why do you not want me to smoke it?”

"Because, well, it's something that can cause you, well, it is sort of, at least it can be, arousing.”

“What does arousing mean, Dad?” Brad kept puffing despite his father’s protests.

"It means you get excited and, well, your cock gets hard."

“Like ours are now?” Brad wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Ben admitted.

“Cool,” Brad said.

His father reached up for the cigar, but instead bumped into his son. Brad’s huge erection bumped against Ben’s stomach.

“Oh, sorry,” Brad said. “Gee, it’s awfully sensitive, Dad.”

"I know," Ben said. He felt his own tiny nub straining. "Believe me, I know."

“How do you make it stop, Dad?”

"Well, like earlier, you can, well, you can stroke it, rub it, but maybe you should just stop smoking and try to think about something else."

Even as Ben told Brad to stop, he can't resist reaching down and touching his tiny dick.

Brad crowded closer. “Show me how to do that.”

“Damn,” Ben jerked his hand away. "I didn't mean to do that."

Ben puffed harder on his cigar and looked down between his father’s legs. Without warning, he reached out one of his big hands toward his former little dick now between his father’s legs.

“Please don't stop, Dad,” Brad said. “I like this, Dad.”

"Oh Christ!" Ben exclaimed as he felt Brad’s huge hand grasp his dick. "Let go," Ben cried out, his voice breaking.

“Sorry, Dad. Did that hurt? I was only doing what you were doing, Dad.”

Ben breathed deeply. “It is just very, very sensitive,” he tried again to explain.

“Okay,” Brad said. He yawned and stretched his massive body. “I think I'm tired, Dad.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep," Ben suggested quickly.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He took a few more puffs. “I am beat.”

"Why don't you put out that cigar?" Ben recommended in a friendly, reasonable voice.

“Okay,Dad,” Brad agreed. “It's almost done anyway. See? Jeez, I smoked a whole one of Dad's big cigars all by myself. Isn’t that cool?”

Ben looked up in surprise and realized that's true.

“What’s the matter, Dad?”

"Uh...nothing,” Ben said. "I guess I miss my cigars."

“You sure that’s all?”

“Yeah,” Ben said. He crawled beneath the covers on his son’s bed.

“I’m sorry that you can’t smoke, Dad. “But you know what happened when you tried to smoke earlier, right?”

"Yeah,” Ben admitted in a sad tone.

Brad lowered his body over his father, who looked so small in Brad’s bed. He hugged him really, really tight. Ben rose up and returned the hug, only as he did so, he brushed again against his son’s still semi-hard cock.

Brad moaned softly, still intoxicated by all the new physical feelings he has experienced in the last few hours.

“Good night, Dad,” Brad said. He turned out the light as he left the room.

Ben closed his eyes and hoped that morning might help them think of a way out of this unwelcome switch.

The next morning, after a fitful night of sleep interrupted by weird dreams, Ben awoke to his even weirder reality. The previous day, he had been a 37-year-old man, tall, muscular, holding down a tough job as a construction worker.

Now, he awoke in his son's small bed and found himself still trapped inside 12-year-old Brad's scrawny body.

The enormous physical change was driven home as he slipped out of bed. He walked across the floor to his son's dresser to find some clothes to cover his naked body.

A few moments later, still feeling very odd as he battled both sleepiness and his unfamiliarity with his new body, he stumbled into the kitchen.

He meant to make breakfast, but unexpected gaps kept opening up in his head. He shook his head, stared at the large kitchen range. He felt as if entire gaps of his brain had dissolved overnight.

Yet again, he stared, bewildered, at the stove as his son made a noisy entrance. Brad, wearing only boxer briefs, seated his big, bulky body in a chair at the table. He put one leg up on the table the same as he has seen his Dad do a million times.

At that time, he produced a pack of cigarettes and lit a cigarette while he waits for breakfast to be ready.

He inhaled deeply. "Are you okay, Dad?" Brad asked. "I am so hungry! When's breakfast gonna be ready, huh?"

Ben stirred the eggs in a skillet. "About ready...I think," he said.

Brad stretched and continued taking deep draws on his first cigarette of the day. "Great! I can't believe how hungry I am."

Ben, turning from the stove, looked over at his huge son and frowned. "Brad, put out the cigarette at the breakfast table."

"Why Dad?" Brad inhaled and sighed. "You always smoke at the table. And now I'm you, right?"

"No," Ben objected. "You're a man, no, that's not right. I mean you're a kid. It's not right."

Brad grinned and turned a patient gaze on Ben. "I've been a smoker since I was your age, son," he said, inhaling deeply. "I'm used to it."

Ben felt a chill run along his spine. "I'm not your son!" Ben said, particularly dismayed at the squeaky nature of his attempt to project his former commanding authority in his tone of voice.

Before he had long to dwell on this latest humiliation, Ben heard the knock at the back door.

"Yeah, I'm your son," Brad said and laughed. "Gee, you sure are acting funny this morning, Dad."

Brad noticed that his dad froze at the knock on the door. "Who's that, Dad?" Brad asked as he inhaled deeply at his cigarette.

"Shit! It's Jake." Ben said with a panicked edge to his voice.

Jake, as Brad well knew, happened to be a man his dad works with in construction.

"I forgot," Ben said. "Jake's driving me to work this week."

"Cool," Brad said, smoking deeply. "I like Mr. Connors, Dad. He's a cool guy."

"Brad, listen," Ben explained hurriedly. "I think it best we not tell people what's happened. So, you've got to pretend you're me. Okay?"

"But Dad. I— I'm not you, How am I gonna get away with that?"

"I'll just try to get rid of him," Ben said. He walked toward the door, but Brad's urgent voice gave him pause.

"Dad! What do you want me to say to him? I don't know what to do."

"Damn," Ben cursed. "He'll be expecting me, so you better get the door. Just wing it."

"But Dad! I don't know—"

They hear the knock at the door.

"Just get the door, Brad," Ben ordered.

"Okay," Brad said, and he opened the door. "Hey, Mr. Con— uhh, I mean Jake. How the hell are you today, man?"

"Hey, Ben," Jake said. "Not dressed yet, heh?"

Brad looked down and saw that he was still dressed only in his dad's underwear. "Uh, well, just taking it easy." he said.

"Fine by me," Jake said, "but we don't want to be late."

At the same time, Ben listened, amazed at how much Brad really sounds like him.

Jake Connors is a big man, but until now, Ben had never noticed his friend's size.

At the same time, Brad marveled at how much he sounded like his dad. He stopped trying to think about everything and just let his instincts take control. So far, the new method seemed to work for him.

He walks back to the table and sat down in his chair. He nodded his head toward his father and gave a wink when Jake wasn't looking.

"Hi there, Brad," Jake said as he sat down at the table across from Ben.

"Uh, Dad, uh, I mean Brad is fixing up some breakfast. You want something?" Brad asked.

"No thanks, Ben," Jake said. The big man laughed. "Besides, I think it is burning."

Brad glanced toward the stove. "Dad! Uh, I mean Brad. The eggs!"

Brad ran over to the stove, but he was too late. The eggs looked thoroughly charred.

"Serves you right, Ben, making the kid cook breakfast," Jake said.

"He promised he would, Mr Conn..., uh, I mean, Jake," Brad said, confusing even himself as he tried to fool his dad's best friend and causing Ben to wince in dismay.

To save himself from the awkward statement, Brad laughed and said, "I sure didn't want to disappoint the little squirt. Right, son?"

Ben felt a surge of irritation, but pushed down the feeling. "Right, Dad," he said.

"Well, good thing I'm early," Jake said. "We can stop and get something at a drive-through."

Jake looked at his friend. "We can even drop the boy off at school."

"Uh, yeah, well, I'm not dressed yet, Jake," Brad stammered. "And neither is Dad, uh, I mean Brad."

Jake looked confused. "You all right, Ben?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Brad responded from his adult body.

Jakes took out his own pack of cigarettes. "I'll just have a smoke while you guys get ready," he said, looking strangely toward his friend and the guy's son.

Ben, forced to watch as the two big men in the kitchen both smoked cigarettes, felt an urgent longing.

"Son, we'd better get ready," Brad said as he inhaled deeply.

Ben tore his gaze away from Jake's cigarette.

"Yeah, we need to talk, son, uh, I mean, Dad."

"Yeah. Upstairs, young man." Brad, the cigarette clamped in his jaws, turned to Jake. "We''ll be back down in a sec, Jake."

Ben followed behind the huge body that used to be his own. Once upstairs, he faced Brad, who looked on the verge of panic.

"Dad! What are we gonna do? Jake, I mean Mr. Connors, he thinks I am you."

"Of course he does," Ben snapped.

Brad inhaled. The effect seemed to calm him.

"Look, we've got to play along with Jake, at least for now," Ben instructed his son.

"So, I'm Ben!" Brad said.

"No, dammit. I'm Ben," he responded to his son. "Well, for now, you're me, at least as far as Jake is concerned."

"Oh, yeah," Brad said and giggled. "I'm sorry. It's all so confusing, isn't it?"

"Brad, I need you to listen," Ben said in a serious tone. "When you get to work, think of some excuse. You'll need to get away from work. And then you can come to school and get me out of class."

"Okay," Brad said and nodded.

"Then we can come home and think of a way out of this mess," Ben said in a hopeful tone.

"All right, but what do I say when I get to the site, Dad?" Brad asked. "I don't know what to do. And I'm scared, Dad."

Ben frowned as Brad sniffled and looked on the verge of tears. "Just don't say much of anything," he said. "And make me a list. I don't even know what classes you're taking."

Brad took out a composition book and began to scribble the names and locations of all his classes.

"Don't be scared," Ben said again. "You can do this. Downstairs, you almost fooled me. You sounded just like me. How did you do that?"

Brad inhaled deeply. "How did I do what, Dad?"

Ben shook his head. "Just keep thinking you are me," he suggested. "It seems to have worked so far. Now I need to find some clothes out of your closet."

"Hey, Dad, what should I wear?" Brad asked.

Ben told his son where to find his work clothes and told him to go get changed into them. Left alone in his son's room, Ben stared into Brad's closet. "I can't believe I'm going back to junior high," he said. "Damn, I hate starting out the day with math class."

In his father's room, Brad found a Henley undershirt, waffle cotton, a blue and white plaid flannel shirt, jeans and size 12 work boots.

Back in Brad's room, Ben froze as he pulled on clothes. How had he known about math class starting out the day. He hadn't even glanced at the schedule his son had provided. "How did I know that?" Ben whispered.

He stepped into the hall. "Brad! What's your first class?"

Brad, staring at his huge body in the mirror, answered in a distracted voice. "Uh, I can't remember, Dad. Maybe history?"

"Is it, is it math?"

"Yeah, that's it," Brad called back. "Dad, can you do complex fractions? We have a test in that today."

Ben felt a little nervous. "Just trust your first instincts," he said, as much to himself as to his son. "I can't explain it, but I think if we just don't trip ourselves up by thinking too much, we can fool everyone."

Brad stepped into the hall. "So, how do I look, Dad?"

"Hey, Ben! Move your butt!" Jake yelled from downstairs.

Ben stared at what looked at first like his own reflection. "Uh, you look, well, I think you'll fool Jake."

"Now, man! What's taking you?" Jake called again.

"Cool your jets, man. We'll be right down. Christ." Brad said. He turned to his father. "Did I say that right, Dad?"

"You sounded perfect," Ben said. In fact, his son sounded so convincing in his body that Ben felt definitely disturbed. He wondered if he could do as good a job impersonating Brad.

"Do these clothes look right for me?" Ben asked. "Well, for you?"

Brad looked carefully at his father.

"Dad, that is so dorky!"

"Thanks a lot."

Brad grabbed a pack of cigarettes and threw them to his father. "Put them in your pocket. You might need 'em."

Ben considered opposing his son, but changed his mind. "Let's go, Brad."

He led the way downstairs.

On the lower step, he stopped. "Dad, I'm not sure," his brow wrinkled in concentration. "Can we pull this off?"

"Brad, remember what I said. Don't think. Just react."

Jake met them at the foot of the stairs. He slapped Brad on the back. "Let's go, man."

"I'm ready," Brad said, slapping the big man's back in response. He turned and grinned as he looked at his dad. "Come on, son, and don't forget your books!"

Ben grabbed his son's backpack stuffed with books.

He hoisted it over his shoulder, and shuddered as he realized how naturally that felt.

As they headed toward Jake's truck, Brad instinctively climbed into the back seat.

Jake stared. "What are you doing, man?"

"He's just kidding," Brad said quickly. "I'll ride in back, Dad."

"Ready to be chauffeured to the site, man?" Jake asked.

Brad laughed. "Yeah, we'll have to make a detour to the squirt's school."

"Let's hit it," Jake said, settling behind the wheel of his pick-up.

From the back seat, Ben stared at the two huge bodies of the men in the cab of the truck.

"We'll stop in at Mickey D's man for some food," Jake said.

Jakes turned his head and glanced into the back seat. "What do you want, little man?"

"I could use a cup of coffee...black."

"And I want a kid's meal and a chocolate milk, please," Brad said.

Jake looked at his friend's kid. "Coffee will stunt your growth, kid."

"We wouldn't want that," Brad said with a smirk.

Jake looked at his friend and co-worker. "What did you say, Ben?"

"Uh, Brad...Brad will want a kid's meal and a chocolate milk...I'm right...uhhhh...Brad?

Ben sighed. "Yeah, Dad."

"Well, I'll have black coffee and the sausage McMuffin," Jake said as he pulled into the neighborhood McDonald's.

Jake spoke into the box and ordered the food. He chuckled after placing the order. "You guys...that was a good one. Pulling my leg, huh?"

"Fucking A Man!" Brad said in his deep adult voice.

They picked up the food and Brad handed his father the chocolate milk and kid's meal.

Ben looked at the food and frowned. To make matters worse, he had to watch his son drinking the coffee that should have been his.

"HMMMMM, it'sreally good. Dad never lets me drink coffee."

Jake laughed loudly. "You can cut it out now, guys."

"What?" Brad asked. "Cut out what?"

"Pulling my leg, man."

Jake started the truck again and pulled out onto the road. "Next stop...school! Hey, Ben. Does your boy have any special girlfriend yet?"

"Her name is Darlene. She's in my, I mean, in his algebra class. And she wears a bra and everything."

Ben leaned forward and poked his son in the ribs.

Jake laughed. "Darlene sounds like trouble."

Jake laughed some more and glanced over at his friend. "Hey, Ben. Maybe we ought to take Brad with us over to the lounge on Route 80 some evening after work."

"What lounge? I can go some night? Really?"

Ben poked his father again.

"Ouch. Stop that, Dad, uh, I mean Brad."

Jake shook his head. "You sure that's just coffee, man?"

"Mother's milk to me, J Man."

Jake pulled the truck over to the curb. Ben looked out the window and saw a terrible large, bleak building.

"Looks like we're here," Jake said. "Give Darlene my regards, little man."

"Yeah," Brad said. "Tell her I said hi..."

Brad' voice trailed off when he saw his dad glaring at him with his funny, boyish face.

"Dad, uh, can I see you outside the truck?" Ben said.

"You mean now?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay," Brad said. He opened the door of the truck.

"Don't take all day," Jake whispered. "We need to move."

Outside the truck, Ben lowered his voice to a whisper. "I really need some of your cigarettes."

"Um, ok." Brad fished out the pack. "How many you want?"

"I just need something," Ben said, embarrassed by his shaky voice. "This is more scary than I thought."

"Here, Dad. You want four of them." He counted out four cigarettes. "There's 1-2-3 and...4."

"Ben, cut the apron strings, man!" Jake joked. "We've got to go, big guy."

"Hey, cut me some slack," Brad growled in a husky voice. "The kid has questions."

He winked at his Dad. "Did that sound convincing, Dad?"

Ben gulped. "Yeah, it did," he admitted.

"Questions," Jake shot back. "That's what school's for."

"You sounded perfect, Dad. I mean son, I mean Brad."

"Gee thanks, Dad!" A goofy grin covered Brad's face. "Oh, I almost forgot. When do you want me to spring ya from school?"

Ben glanced at the huge building. "As soon as you can."

"All right, but I got those houses down by the glade to frame. I don't know when I'll be done."

"Brad, forget the fucking houses," Ben said, his voice cracking. "Just fake it. Get sick. But get back here. Soon!"

"Ok! Ok! Chill out, Dad. Gee, I got it covered!

"Ben!" Jake called impatiently.

"What?" Brad said. "All right, I'm coming, man."

He winked down at his dad. "Bye bye, son! Have a good day at school."

Ben watched his son hoist his adult body back into the truck.

He felt his stomach is churning.

He walked slowly toward the front entrance of the school.

"It's not like I haven't been here before," he whispered to himself. Twenty years ago!"

Some big guys walk past. They positively loomed over Ben in his new, immature body. He noticed his mouth gaping, clamped his jaws closed and turned to continue on his way.

He collided with what, at first, he thought must be a wall.

"Watch here you're going, you little shit," a huge guy, a senior fullback type, growled as he stepped aside and walked past Ben.

"Watch it yourself!" Ben snapped without thinking.

The enormous male turned quickly. "Are you talking to me?"

Ben's mouth dropped open again as he realized what he had done.

"What the fuck did you say to me, runt?" The huge jock asked as he grabbed Ben by the waist and brought the little guy up to his eye level.

"You ran into me!" Ben said, beginning to get very mad at the ignorant punk.

His anger dissipates rapidly, however, as he felt himself lifted off his feet.

"Put me down!" Ben ordered.

The muscular jock grinned. "Ooooooh, the little man's got a big mouth. All right. You want down?"

The enormous athlete slammed the smaller guy down, hard, on the floor.

Ben, his breath knocked out of his lungs, lay there. He felt the pain rush through his small body.

"Is whittle Brad hurt?" The big jock mocked him. And, to Ben's surprise, the large tormentor apparently knew his son.

At the same time, Ben remembered similar scenes from his own high school years, but with one major difference. Back then, he had been the big guy! Not this...not some runt.

The powerful jock stepped on Ben's body on his way down the school corridor. The big guy's friends laugh and go out of their way to trample their leader's victim.

One of the guys looked down in disgust. "What a wuss!"

Ben watched the huge guys walk into the school. He found himself wishing he could be big like they are.

"Mr. Monahan!"

Ben whirled. Crap! He recognized Brad's assistant principal.

"Late for your class, aren't you, Monahan?"

"Yeah. I'm headed that way."

"Headed that way, what?" The authoritative principal asked.

"As fast as I can?" Ben ventured.

"Mr. Monahan, are you bucking for detention today or what?" The large man said. "I have a name and a salutation.

"Use them, please!"

"No," Ben objected. "I got attacked before I even got in the damn door."

"Profanity, too," the assistant principal chided. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to send a note home to your father."

"That's a laugh," Ben muttered.

"Excuse me!"

"Nothing."

"Nothing...who?

Ben swallowed hard. "Nothing, sir."

The principal grinned. "Better. Much better."

Meanwhile, Ben's son and his co-worker Jake headed toward the construction site in Jake's truck.

"That boy's a little on the small side, ain't he, Ben?" Jake asked.

"I'm not so....I mean, well, hell, he's only 12, Mr. Con..., uhhh. Jake."

Brad is feeling nervous, and Jake noticed his friend's fidgeting.

"Yeah, but you and I were bigger than that at 12."

"Sure," Brad said. He clasped his hands in his lap.

"Something the matter, man?"

"I'm okay, just a little, I dunno. I feel kinda weird."

"Yeah?"

Jake pulled the truck onto the site. "Hell, there's that SOB Carruthers."

Brad doesn't recognize the root of his antsy behavior. His body is craving another cigarette.

"Yeah, Dad thinks he's a real jerk!

Jake turned his head toward Brad. "What?" Jake asked. "Oh no. He's headed this way."

Brad, silently, wishes that his Dad was present.

Jake rolled down the truck window.

"Connors, I need you and Monahan to make a run over to Smithville," Paul Carruthers said. "A delivery truck broke down over there, and I need those materials."

"Fuck you, Carruthers," Brad said. "Jake and me gotta finish framing those houses down by the lake."

"Wow!" Brad thought. "Did I just say that?"

Carruthers straightened his spine. "Monahan, I know that you think you've got the manager's blessing for everything, but this comes straight from his office. Now keep your butt in that truck and head to Smithville!"

Brad leaned over Jake, instinctively acting like Ben Monahan would. Jake stopped his friend. "We're going."

He rolled up the window. "Damn, Ben. You're gonna go too far some day!" Jake said. "This is better than framing houses anyway! It's a three hour round-trip road trip."

"Shit, man. He is a total, butt-kissing asshole!" Brad exclaimed.

In his thoughts, he excitedly marveled at the words coming out of his mouth. All the right phrases spilled out of his mouth.

"Yeah, you don't have to tell me," Jake said. "I'd like to really screw that asshole."

Jake noticed that his friend is still acting very nervous. Brad still can't put his finger on the reason for his jitters, as he's not used to the sensation of nicotene craving.

Jake helped out by producing his own cigarette and lighting up.

"I say we just take our sweet time," Jake announced. "We don't have anywhere to be anytime soon, right?"

"Fucking A, man!" Ben said. "Hey, Jake, can I have a cigarette?"

"Sure. But what happened to your pack? Forget it at the house?"

"I can! Gee, thanks." Brad said. "Oh, wait. My Dad. No, I mean, uhhh, Brad tossed me one on the way out. It's in my pocket

"Why you need to bum from me, then?" Jake asked in irritation.

Brad, not being at all familiar with the "etiquette" amongst smokers, made an awkward apology, sensing Jake's irritation.

Brad produced a cigarette from his own pack, flicked the zippo and lit it. He inhaled deeply.

"Oh, yeah." Brad exchaled. "This is so much better than school."

"That's it," Jake said. "Forget Carruthers. Let's just relax. We've got nowhere to be."

"So, Jake?" Brad inhaled deeply. "What do we gotta do when we get there?

"I guess just load the stuff up in my truck and head back here." Jake answered. "We've made trips like this before, big guy. Where's your head this morning?"

"I'm worried about, Dad," Brad said absently.

"Your dad?"

"Yeah." Brad took a deep draw.

"Ain't he in Florida?" Jake asked. "Nothing wrong is there?"

"No, my grandpa lives there. My Dad is..." Brad let his voice trail off. He realized he had screwed up in front of Jake.

"Uh, no. I mean Brad. Yeah, it's just the kid. Brad. I'm worried about Brad."

"Well, he does seem a little backward," Jake agreed. "Doesn't seem like a chip off the old block."

"I'm not backward," Brad said. "I mean, he's not backward. He's smarter than you are."

"Take it easy," Jake said. "I didn't mean he was stupid. He actually looks a little too smart for his own good. You know what we used to do to the dork kids, man."

"I'm not a....Uhhhhhh... he's not a dork, Jake. He is just a kid right now."

Jake frowned, but Brad continued. "And I'm gonna be just as big as my dad one day. You'll see."

Jake frowned again. "Are you feeling all right, man?"

Meanwhile, back at school, Ben entered his son's math class.

The teacher looked up from his desk. "Mr. Monahan. So, you decided to join us after all?"

Ben walked into the class, at least 10 minutes late.

He scanned for an empty seat and found one in the front of a row.

"Now that we're all assembled," the math teacher said. He is clearly annoyed that Ben is still getting settled.

Ben tried to restrain his movements. He turned his eyes to the front.

"Now, class, let's resume yesterday's lesson on complex fractions." The teacher's eyes narrowed as they focused on Ben.

"Mr. Monahan, up to the board," the teacher ordered.

"And solve the equation I've written there."

Ben felt everyone in the classroom turn their attention to him. For some reason, that caused his mind to almost go blank. He left his seat and, quite without any enthusiasm, walked toward the board.

"Well?" The teacher adopted a feigned tone of patience. "Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"

His back turned to everyone in the room, Ben screwed his eyes closed. His hand reached out and the numbers started flowing.

"Wow," Ben thought to himself. "Brad's a really smart kid."

"Hmmm," the teacher said. "Well done, Mr. Monahan."

Ben stood sheepishly at the front of the class, beaming at hearing himself praised. But, he thought to himself, I didn't solve the problem. That was Brad. Brad's mind exerting itself and helping Ben function in this new body.

"Mr. Monahan, perhaps you should return to your seat now."

The class roared in laughter.

Ben, confused, shook his head. He felt very disoriented, almost as if he had lost himself for a moment.

He made his way back toward his desk.

[purplesurveys]

440

Looks and Personality

What do you look like? I tick all the marks of a Filipina - kinda tiny, black eyes, morena, flat nose. I’m on the slender side, have thick, wavy hair that gets frizzy when it’s hot, and huge thighs when I sit down.

How often do you bathe? I don’t really have a constant schedule. I take a bath everyday when I have school; I could take a bath everyday especially during summer; but I can also opt to do it every other day when I feel lazy/when it’s colder.

How do you wear your hair? Down, low ponytail, high ponytail, or in a bun depending on what I’m wearing.

What colours do you tend to wear? Black, white, and any muted shade. I have very little color in my wardrobe.

Do you have any tattoos? What, where and why? Nope. I had always wanted to have a ton until I realized I was scared of needles.

What kind of clothes do you wear? My style is a mix of classy and trendy, so I’ll wear little black dresses with flats but I can also sometimes wear a simple top with culottes or long dresses paired with sneakers. Idk, depends on my mood for the day really.

What kind of jewelery do you wear? I’ve stopped wearing jewelry. The two necklaces Gab got me already broke and I haven’t had them replaced with any new ones. Not a fan of rings and I don’t really have bracelets.

Is there anything else you often wear? I’m not too picky with what I put on. My must-have is just a black hairtie on my wrist.

Would you say you had a “look”? Yeah I think so. I’ve molded my style to make it akin to Audrey Hepburn’s, who’s like my biggest idol eveeeeerrrrrrrrr.

When going out, do you dress up or down? Depends on what period of the sem I’m in. I’ll definitely dress up at the start because I want to look good in front of new profs and classmates lmao. But by the end of the sem when all the deadlines are piling up, I’ll go to class in the same shorts I wear at home, a hoodie with nothing inside, and NOT CARE.

What do you wear to bed at home? The thinnest clothes I could find, because it gets really hot. Tank top and shorts will do, but sometimes I’d opt for a tank top and just underwear.

What do you wear to bed when you’re somewhere else? I cover up of course. I’d switch up the tank for a t-shirt, but still keep the shorts.

Is there a place you keep any prized/secret things whilst you’re away? No. That place is my room already.

What’s your favourite food? Either pizza, curry, or sushi. I’m a sucker for all variations of the three.

What’s your favourite drink? Iced caramel macchiato is always so refreshing. OH and I FINALLY recently found out how I like my coffee! Hshssksh Kate poured me a cup of coffee last week and her mix was SO good omg it was 2 packets of cream, 1 packet of sugar, and it can take or leave milk. I’m so excited about this because I never learned how to make coffee that wasn’t just the instant one that does all the work for me. Now I finally feel like a grown-up hahahahaha

What’s your favourite dessert?  Chewy chocolate chip cookies, macarons, cheesecake, and souffles.

What’s your favourite type of food (e.g Mexican)? Indian and Korean. Japanese is a runner-up.

Do you have any mental problems? Yes. I don’t have the time, the money, and the courage to get myself checked and so I just try to get by and get better everyday.

Do you have any phobias? What? Why do you think you have this/them? Cockroaches, needles, and roller coasters. Cockroaches are fucking ugly and we had a lot of them (flying ones!) in our old house; needles are sharp and they hurt; and as for the last one, I generally get bad motion sickness but the whole phobia thing got worse when I had a particularly bad experience on a roller coaster in Singapore.

Why might somebody dislike you? I’m super nice but I’m not denying that I can snap whether it’s warranted or not. I come off a little strongly and it might rub people off the wrong way.

What skill do you possess that you are most proud of? Seeing things through. Like if I want something to work, I do it and I make it work. I hate failure and I like looking like I get a lot of work done.

What is your greatest strength (e.g. honest, loyal, brave)? Loyalty.

What’s your greatest shortcoming or flaw (e.g. cowardly, alcoholic)? My competitiveness can make me a coward. Like I will back out of things as soon as I can detect that I can possibly lose or fail.

Who do you most admire? I don’t really admire anyone.

Who do you most love? Animals.

What three things do you look for most in a partner? I don’t like boxing people into just three standards...I do take a liking to people who kind of stand out from the rest, are intelligent, and have the same stances as I do.

Do you like crowds? Depends on the type. I only like crowds I’m comfortable with, like a concert crowd.

What are your hobbies? Trying out new food.

If you can’t get to sleep in the middle of the night, what do you do? I’ll watch YouTube videos or scroll through Reddit. Knocks me out instantly.

What is your favourite animal? Dogs, cows, elephants, or pigs. Can’t really choose.

What is your favourite colour? Pink.

If you could ask God (to athiests - IF there was one) one question, what? Why’d they make the universe? What’s all of this for? Cheated for using two questions, but whatever.

Background

Where were you born and raised? I was born in Manila and raised in a city a little east of Manila.

Briefly describe your family. We’re five in the immediate family - my mom and dad have been married for 22 years and I have a younger sister and brother. I don’t talk to my brother anymore after an incident a few months ago; my sister and I are generally close. I have three grandparents that are still alive, but I’m generally closer to my grandma on my mom’s side since she lives nearer. I have 11 cousins but the number just gets so much bigger if you count second- and third-degree ones.

You must choose one - your childhood was calm/peaceful or tragic/turbulent? It was both, honestly. Since I lived with extended family growing up, I had relatives with drinking and violence problems on one side, but also relatives who strove to protect us from them and tried to give us a normal childhood. I can’t really pick one for you, because I experienced both.

Did you have any role models? I looked up to wrestlers from a very early age. Shawn Michaels and Lita were my childhood favorites.

What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you? [Trigger warning: suicide] Attempting suicide multiple times, summer 2017.

How did it affect you? [Trigger warning: suicide] Profoundly. I wouldn’t have met my orgmates if I succeeded, because I only joined my college org after the attempts. At the time I did it, I had no friends in college so looking back on it can feel surreal. I also realized that I am scared of myself knowing that I’m capable of physically getting to that point.

Have you ever had any recurring nightmares or themes in nightmares? When my depression was a lot worse two years ago, I would always get dreams of either me or Gab dying. It was always either of us getting shot.

What were they? ^

Do you currently have a boyfriend/girlfriend? I do.

Do you have any close friends? Yes <3

Briefly describe your best friend: She studies architecture, has a mole on the left side of her face, has a classy sense of style, loves The Maine, has two shihtzus named Hailey and Kennedy (the latter after Kennedy Brock from The Maine), and is one of the most genuine, caring, and smartest people I know.

Any enemies? I don’t think so, unless people have a problem with me that they aren’t telling me.

Who? What are they like?

Would you risk your life for your best friend? (not lover or family member!) For Angela? Easily.

With who was your most important romantic relationship? Gabie.

Of what are you most proud? Going to school in UP.

Of what are you most ashamed? My home life. I’m an open book except for this aspect.

Alignment, Ethics and Religion

What is your religion? None. Atheist.

Where do you stand on abortion? Pro-choice. Ez.

Where do you stand on the death penalty? I’m against it mostly for the fact that execution is literally the easiest way out. For shitty people who have done shitty things, let them rot in prison until they die. For people who have done shitty things but want to be better, let them be better and give them a second chance.

Where do you stand on wearing fur? HATE IT. Wear faux fucking fur if you’re so adamant on wanting fur on your outfit.

Do you have a moral code that you follow? What? Don’t we all have our own compasses?

Could you kill somebody? If my loved ones are involved, absolutely.

For what reason would you kill somebody? If my loved ones are seriously harmed. For self-defense too.

Would you SERIOUSLY CONSIDER killing anybody right now? No, not right now.

Do you trust easily, or not? I trust in the first place; but I can easily take the trust away if it’s abused.

What are your political beliefs (anarchy, communism, democracy etc.)? I’m a social democrat. < God, I don’t really pay attention to labels lmao but this seems pretty accurate.

What, if anything, WOULD you sacrifice your life for? Gabie and/or her family. Way too important to me.

Would you ever, for any reason, abandon your friends in an hour of need? I don’t think I can.

Motivation

What are your dreams/ambitions/goals? Complete college, find a job that pays well, pay for a house, travel abroad, start a family.

How do you plan to reach them? Work my ass off I guess?

How would your ideal partner look? I already have one.

Do you ever want to have a family someday? With children? Yes. I’ll be crushed if I don’t get one.

Who would you want to start this family with, or do you not yet know? My girlfriend, ideally.

What would stop you from reaching your goals (e.g. death, retirement fund)? I’m very money-oriented, like I would rather earn a lot in an okay job than be in a job I’m super super super passionate about but has a lower pay, so I think anything with inadequate pay will definitely demotivate me.

What do you see yourself doing next year? This time next year I’m already polishing up my thesis. I’ll be graduating in a few weeks, and I would have already come out to my parents.

What do you see yourself doing in twenty years? Having a family and being at that point in life where I’m just accomplished. I’d want to be feeling that way by the time I’m 41.

Would you ever have an affair? NO.

Would you ever have a one night stand? Idk, not really for me.

What are your greatest fears? Being a failure.

More information

If you had a month of nothing (no work, no obligations) what would you do? Provided that money wasn’t an issue, I’d eat out. Always. I’d try out new restaurants and the quirkiest food out there.

How do you relax? Sleep, talk to my friends, watch YouTube videos, and, if I have time, take surveys.

What one thing would you change in this world (free Tibet, abolish Sweden)? Do something about pollution or climate change.

Would you ever choose a career or job where your life was at risk? You mean, a journalist? Hahahahaha hell no. But again, unless the job pays well, then no.

Why? In the case of being a journalist, it’s just not worth it to me...which is sad, because I used to be very passionate about becoming one. But when I realized the horrible reality of taking up such a career, it was very easy to turn away. I’ll always be sorry to my 13 year old self.

How would you like to be remembered after your death? Someone who went out of her way to look out for people, no matter the situation. As simple as that.

Random questions

Where you present at any major historical events (e.g. 9/11)? Nope.

How did they affect you?

Do you have any famous relatives? I have relatives in the local government, plus my maternal grandfather’s clan pretty much owns all of Mindoro Oriental so there’s that. I don’t have celebrity relatives though.

Do you have to try and live up to your family’s expectations? Of course.

Are you a loyal member of any organizations? Just the one I applied for in my university haha.

General Information

Name: Robyn.

Age: 21.

Date Of Birth: April 21st.

Race: Brown.

Height: 5′2″

Weight: Uh like 90 something lbs. Idk, it always fluctuates around the 90s.

Are you happy with this? I could gain more weight honestly. I’m a little underweight, and clothes I wanna wear sometimes don’t fit or suit me for being too thin.

Desired weight: A little over 100 would be healthier for me I think.

Sexual orientation: I don’t fucking know anymore lmao. I can be bisexual one day, pansexual the next, and demisexual the next. I don’t really answer when I’m asked this.

First language: Filipino. Second/Third/Fourth etc. languages (if any): English.

Why did you take this survey? I haven’t taken a survey in such a long time because I was swamped with work. Tonight is the first time in two weeks I had enough time to squeeze in a survey.

[jizemderler]

It’s my birthday (yayy) and I‘ve decided to post the first chapter to a story I‘ve been writing. If you like it, I‘ll post more. If you don‘t, I‘ll keep writing for myself.

Enjoy!

One Flower: Camila Monroe is a teen. With her own ups and downs. Her loves and heartbreaks. Her lies and truths. Just one...out of a million flowers. But one flower is always someones favourite flower.

{Part One}

You know those movies or stories where the nerdy but hot girl hates that one super hot guy at school who is a football player, because they always are, but suddenly something happens - let’s say a chemistry project has to be done - and they get paired. Bada bing bada bum a bit of flirtation, drama, one problems or two, making up and a happy ever after.

Yeah that’s not my story though. I am the literal incarnation of the side dish. Don’t get me wrong I’m not the main course but people still like me. But on the side. Like the baby sister of that football player. I’m not hot, not in anyway. Not nerdy hot or innocent hot or any-hot. I’m not ugly either…I’m just me. Regular and invisible. And that’s not going to change throughout the story. No big make over where every guy at school falls in love with me. I’m also not really good at anything in particular. Like I don’t have a secret talent or like a sex dungeon and weird fetishes. I’m average, whatever that means, and I’m cool with it. Always was.

And for the record I said I was the baby sister but the omg-he’s-so-cute brother of mine isn’t that much older. He is a senior and I’m a junior. Not that he would have that overprotective brother thing. He doesn’t. Which I’m glad for. Most people don’t even know that we are siblings - or they choose to ignore it-  because we don’t look alike (duh) and because we don’t talk to each other at school. He lives in his world and I live in mine. Which is also cool with me. We also have a baby brother who is only 9. My mom and pap always wanted two kids but you know…things happen and so you get a kid 7 years apart from your second one. No biggie.

“Camila!”

And that’s the name of the side dish. Nice to meet you.

“Camila Monroe if you don’t come down right away your brother will leave without you!”

And that…that is the voice of my angry mom and my cue to stop daydreaming. I take my backpack and throw it over my shoulder and push my glasses back before going downstairs.

„Why didn’t you guys give me a second name? Like it doesn’t have the same affect when you call me by my full name. Not as dictator-y as it could be.“ I mock her playfully and she rolls her eyes.

„It’s too early for you to be witty with me. And now go. Oh and he is annoyed already. Be nice to him.” my Mom tells me and I roll my eyes. „I’m always nice. Bye mom.“ I answer and give her a kiss before stepping into my boots and walking outside. „You’re late.” he says as soon as I sit shotgun and I groan. “And you’re an ass.” He frowns and I roll my eyes at his mood. Mom was right. „What? I thought we were pointing out the obvious. Can we go?“ He looks at me, his mouth slightly open -ready to shoot back but then his gaze travels over my shoulder which makes me look too. Oh and then there is Noah. His brown hair is a bunch of curls falling into his face, covering some of his forehead, as if he just came out of the ocean. His eyebrows are currently formed into a frown which I know would go away if I would go over them with my thumb, stroking them slightly. As soon as his melty chocolate brown eyes catch mine I shake my head and look back at Jace. Noah is our neighbors kid. Who also happens to be my ex. Noah and I have been close since kindergarden. We developed feelings over the time and fell for each other. We were great together. He was like me in a sence. He was normal.

But then puberty hit him. Like a truck. And things changed. He changed. And I didn’t. Right next to me is Jock number one and over there staring into the car is Jock number 2. He just grew more popular day by day and I was overwhelmed. And that he was a senior didn’t help my self-confidence either. It’s been almost a year since we broke up. You know how you talk to someone until 4 a.m every single day and suddenly you don’t talkt to them at all anymore? That’s us. "Jace.” I say, no more playfullness in my voice and he understands and starts the engine immediatly. We drive in silence and I jump out of the car as soon as he shuts the engine off. “Wait! Take the keys. I’ll be late today.” he says and throws me the keys over the car and I pick them off the ground.

“Nice.”

“Shut up.”

I turn around at the gate and see him meet up with Noah and I cringe and turn around. They’re friends, share classes and they are in the same team of course they’ll meet up. At least Jace is sensitive enough not to do it in my face. As I walk into class I see the one person I’m comfortable around. “Thank god you’re here. I thought you were skipping and I already was planing on a way out. Probably the window. Two floors shouldn’t be that bad.” she jokes and I roll my eyes “Don’t say that.”

“Sure thing. Oh, look who’s coming.”

I put my stuff down and look up while tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and stop mid movement.

I introduced to you all of the people that matter in my life…everyone besides Ethan. He smiles one of his beautiful smiles towards me and winkes before sitting down infront of me.

“I think he has a cr…” Daya starts but I shush her immediatly. Ethan is the kind of guy who could have anyone but doesn’t notice it. He has those kind hazel eyes and wavy blond-ish hair, always a little messy. He himself is really put together though, in a hot way. His muscels help too of course. Definetly not a Jock but he seems to do some kind of sport.

“Don’t even start with that. We’re good friends.” I whisper over to her and she raises her hands above her head and leans back in her chair. “Hey Daya! Why are your arms up? Want to give me a hug?” some dumbass yells and I roll my eyes again. Here we go.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself Peter? Since that is the only time you will ever get fu…”

“Good morning people! Alissa put that mirror down you don’t look any different than two minutes ago, Peter wipe that overwhelmed expression off your face we didn’t even start the lesson yet…and Daya! I heared.” Professor Khan said and put his bag down onto his desk. He was this old, slim and tall, indian man with grey hair and a grey beard. You could practically see that he was a heartbreaker in his young days. Maybe even now. I kinda liked him as a teacher because he was always chill.

„Alright class, who’s done their assignment?“

A roar goes through class and everybody starts looking around for someone to know what the assignment was but our confusion is ended with Mr Khans gentle laugh.

„Just kidding. I didn’t give you homework over the weekend because I’m that dope.” he says and adds a handsign in there which makes us all groan and roll our eyes.

„Isn’t that the term? Dope? Or was it Lit? In our time we called us fresh but that’s another story.“ he says and laughs to himself while unpacking his stuff.

„Alright. We will start a discussion.” he says and claps his hands while coming to the front and leaning against his desk. „What does success mean to you?“

I could see people frowning or rolling their eyes and I start scribbling something on the paper in front of me. „Camila?”. Of course. Of course Camila.

„Uh, I mean…everything is based on success these days. You want to be respected and looked up on in school? You got to be successfull. But not too successfull because then you’re a nerd. You want to have it easy with the teacher? Just be great at their subject and everything will be fine. You want to go to a specific college? You got to be successfull in highschool. You want to actually work after college? You got to be one of the best in your classes. You want to keep your job? You better be the best….I guess.“ I finish my ranting and he nods to my answer.

„Yes. Aiden.” Mr. Khan says and dismisses me and I take a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

„You want to talk about something?“ Daya whispers over to me and I raise my eyebrows. „What? Me? No. Why?” I whisper back immediatly and she leans back again. „I don’t know. You seemed…troubled.“

„Nah. I’m fine. Really. Just wanted him to let me off the hook.” I answer and she shruggs her shoulders.

„Okay.“

The discussion continues and I don’t take part in it anymore. Success is overrated anyway. What about hapiness? What if I’m successfull but unhappy? Is success still more important then?

I pack my belongings after the bell rings while everybody starts to storm out. After I’m finished I throw my bag over my shoulder and start walking out too when Mr. Khan holds me up.

„Hey, Camila?”

„Yes, sir?“

„Success isn’t all that bad you know. You just have to get to it in your own way and not how other people want you to.” he says and smiles a little smile and I shrug apologetically.

„Whatever you say Mr.Khan.“ I say before backing away towards the door and saluting playfully as a goodbye which makes him chuckle and shake his head.

I walk out with a grin and forget to look straight ahead and collide with a chest. I grip onto my stuff so nothing slides to the ground and so does the person I collided with, by holding me by my arms. „Sorry.” I say before I look up and meet those brown eyes again. Shit. He let’s go of me like a hot potato and takes a step back.

„Suits you.“ he blurts out and I frown.

„What?”

„The smile. You don’t do it very often anymore.“ he says like in trance and I shift uncomfortably under his gaze. I shake my head and sigh to myself before stepping aside to leave without another word. I’m a lot of things but one thing I’m not is beeing friends with my ex. That doesn’t work. Not even in movies. I walk through the halls towards my next classes trying not to think about his face.

***

After my last class I said my goodbye to Daya and made my way to the parking lot. While pulling out the key I stuffed into the side pocket of my bag I noticed someone in the corner of my eye. „Hey! You need a ride?” I asked before my brain could catch up and Ethan looked up towards me with raised eyebrows.

„Hey! Uh…my mom was going to be here but she got caught up. So actually, yeah. If it’s okay.“ he stumbled over his words and made me laugh.

„Sure thing. Just to warn you though: I may not be the best driver.” I joked while waving him over and we started to walk to my car. „You live near the city park right?“ I ask while getting into the drivers seat and he sits shutgun. „Yeah. But you can drop me of on your way to yours. I‘ll just have to take a right and walk two minutes from there.“ he offers and I shrug my shoulders while starting the engine. I ignore the brown curls while I drive out of the parking lot and concentrate on the road.

„So who else do you have in your classes?“ I ask into the silence and he looks over. „Well we‘ve got English together with Mr.Khan. I love that guy.“ he chuckles and and I smile and nodd so he can continue, „I got Miss Hallow in math and I could die right here right now thinking of that. I feel like she is the evil witch of our school.“

„Yeah I‘m so happy that I don‘t have her this year. She made my life hell last year.“ I say before I recognize what I just said and facepalm myself in my head. He looks at me with a grin and I squint my eyes for a split second before I remember that I‘m the one driving.

„Sorry.“

„It‘s okay. I love hearing you rambling. Sometimes people habe to many filters.“ He says looking out the front window and try not to frown and decipher what he means by that.

„Anyway. I got Mr. Masselin in Biology.“

„Who‘s that? I don‘t recall that name?“ I ask inbetween.

„You know the hot one? Every girl and I think some guys too, is drooling after him.“ he says rolling his eyes and makes me chuckle. „Doesn‘t ring a bell.“ I say and he smiles. „Thank god.“ As soon as he says that his eyes go wide and he looks at me, his cheeks slightly flushed. „I mean, you know. Thank god your not one of the basic ones.“ he drives himself deeper into the mud and makes me laugh.

„Yeah. Never have been.“ I say trying to lift some of the emberrasment off of his shoulders. „Moving on. I have Mrs Khan in chemistry. And let me tell you she is nothing like her husband. That woman is feisty. Not kidding.“ he changes the topic.

„Yeah, I know! Noah used to love messing around with her, just to get on her nerves.“ I say again, my mouth faster than my brain. I start to think if I do have any filter. An awkward silence spreads between us and I repeatedly facepalm myself in my head. I‘m so stupid for bringing him up.

„That‘s the senior right? The Jock? I‘ve seen him woth your brother. They seem to be good friends.“ he says as if we aren‘t talking about my ex and I‘m so gratefull that he is taking it so light heartedly.

„Yeah that one.“ I asnwer and he nods letting go of the subject.

„You see that spot. You can stop right there.“ he says after two minutes more of driving in silence and I pull over. „Thank you for letting me ride along.“ he says with a 1000 watt smile and my heart skipps a beat. „Sure thing.“ I say and return his smile. He takes his bag and gets out of the car. I‘m about to say bye when he turns around. He has this nervous expression on his face and keeps shifting from one leg to the other.

„Uh, I wanted to ask you something? Dou you want to, you know, go out sometime? Maybe for the movies or just dinner. I don‘t know.“ he says nervously and avoids my eyes and I put him out of his misery. „I‘d love to.“

„Really?“ he says surprised and I chuckle.

„Why is that such a shocker to you?“ I tease and his cheeks flush again.

„Uh, no! It‘s not. It‘s great actually. Thank you. I - I‘ll text you when?“ he offers and I nodd with a smile and his heartwarming smile returns to his lips.

„See you.“

„Bye.“ he says and shuts the door and waves while I pull out of my spot and drive away. That was fun.

***

I‘m doing my homework after dinner and jump when I hear a loud thud from the other room where Jace is. I put my pen onto my desk and listen carefully what‘s going on.

„Shit.“

„Fuck.“ I hear him curse and I get up to walk out of my room. I remember my mom saying that he wasn‘t in a good mood and appearently that hadn‘t changed throughout the day. I knock lightly at his door and wait for an answer.

„I‘m fine.“ he says and I roll my eyes.

„I‘m coming in.“ I warn him and open the door. I stay in the door and lean against the doorframe. „Hey.“

„Hey.“ he murmurs and I roll my eyes again. I walk into the room and throw myself beside him onto the bed.

„You good?“

„Yeah.“

„You don’t sound like it.“ I press and he sighs.

„Just let it go?“ he asks and I shrugg my shoulders turning onto my back lying next to him.

„Whenever you‘re ready big bro.“ I say to lighten the mood but I make sure that he doesn‘t miss the sincere undertone.

[avicebro]

rate... casters then? if you haven't done it yet?

one two three WIFE hey honey i love you so much i think about you constantly you are the best. have you at 100 10/10/10 and bond level 10 now so you’re basically perfect now, just gotta max fou you. love your np charge skill. love your myths.. you’re good. i love you so much. i love you and kuzuki so much. i just want you guys to be happy and i just want to make you happy let me just.. treat you thank you for carrying me all the time MWUAh infinity/10

I personally like him a lot but I know some people find him uncomfortable which is totally understandable. Still.. haven’t finished working on him in FGO I’m sorry lol. Love his relationship with both Prelati and Ryuunosuke and can’t wait for him to meet his bfs again. so like 8/10? yeah

HEY HANS. man you could have been.. so much better. I know that it’s not your fault though and I have nothing against you. I just… love the idea that he’s defined by what people thought he was like based off of what he wrote about. Wish they would actually reference the bisexuality cause heyo it’s important to his stories /dab. Stop asking for alcohol you’re like 12. Wish he like.. actually acted like how he did in real life sometimes tho lol. Kiara fuckers don’t interact. 10/10 love him. 

HEY WILL. one of the best parts of apocrypha, hands down, just wish he was in more of it. shave your mustache off though it creeps me out. ever since i learned you share va’s with tesla i can’t think. love how you have a buster up which ties with amakusa and semiramis. love you so much, sorry for taking so long to level you up lol. it looks like you’re having fun which is what matters. i’ll take you to shinjuku for drinks or something. nice thighs please step on me. 10/10 would die for.

ship you with paracelsus. whenever you dress up it’s kind of illegal? just kind of? thought you would do more in london but alas. love art where you and paracelsus adopt jack and teach her about the fun ways of murder. your hair is an aesthetic. mephi is cute guys. make paramephi art im begging you 7/10

7/10 please stop haunting me and my dreams. who said you could be that hot.

you came home for new years! which was nice! i appreciate it a lot! i use you a lot and i’m sorry you’re just very useful. sorry waver i like el melloi more. long haired men are hot, it’s been clinically tested. wanna run my hands through your hair while you play dark souls. i’m not thirsty for you i support you in your transition and i hope you and your like 8 blond kids are having a fun time saving the world and dismantling the grail or whatever. 8/10

7/10 best cu hands down don’t @ me. like him in fuyuki. hope he comes back soon? also ugh when is he gonna get that animation update fgo? anytime soon? please? i think your final art is gorgeous by the by. one of the first servants i finished.

probably her best outfit let’s be real here. good girl. nothing bad to say here she’s a great daughter and i love her in all forms. 9/10

I think you were a ticket? I think? Ugh 5/10 I appreciate you coming home in all forms, I really do Tamo, ugh, I’m glad you like me so much but now I’m worried that Vicci will come home and I don’t know how to feel about that one. Pairs really well with my Medeas, I had you and Medea Lily stall for like, a whole bunch of fucking turns which made me wanna kms but also proved how well you two can stall so good job.

HELLO. I’m so sorry I didn’t use my free four star on you and instead went for the thirsty choice I’m sorry but thank you so much for coming home regardless for new years MWUAH. currently grailed to 98. I’m working on your skills next honey just please be patient. All of her lines about not liking being touched scare me and I want to fight anyone who does anything dirty with you EVEr. I think your art is gorgeous and you’re so pretty and I want to make sure you’re never sad again. Love art where you have been adopted by Hektor. I’ll beat up Jason for you. infinity/10

ANother good girl. Came home recently and three times at that! Thank you for that Nursery Rhyme. You’re.. very cute. I love how you’d expect her to be this like, shy, silent girl but nOPE she’s a critting, curious, buster machine and she works so well with the other authors good job NR. I can’t say I’d beat up Hans for you but we can certainly give him a stern talking to. Love writing her the most out of the authors honestly. Your LE episodes killed me. When are you gonna be in Extella. 10/10

His coat is made out of husband material. Very pretty. I want to braid your hair and be your assistant. One of the first servants that I got that I was like, okay I know nothing about you but you’re hot so I love you lol. His voice is very soothing. Love you with Mephi but the art with Hektor and Avi is also very cute. When I need to draw hair I draw you. Love you I’ll draw you more. 10/10

I’m sorry I know very little about you I’m sorry. I think your human form is very hot though. I have someone who has you at level 100 and they’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen TBQH. You’re cute in the summer race, Babbage sensei. Also dailybabbage is still the best daily blog don’t @ me 5/10

You also came home recently! Thanks! I actually like her a lot just hate her artist and her archer version. Wish she was an actual old lady instead of being.. whatever this is lol. Love her relationship with Edison, they seem like if they were two old friends who after their partners died they moved in together with an Indian demigod. Please put on some more clothes. Please take her away from her artist. Oh and I’ll beat up Sherlock for you. 7/10

You came home a very long time ago and I’m sorry you’ve been stuck at like.. 54 for a long time lol. I associate you with someone though. I really like Tedison but I never talk about it. I just assume all Americans are like this honestly. All hail our presi-king. hey fgo you wanna add bell so they can be friends instead of just constantly hinting at it? huh? anyways you’re good i just need to finish leveling you up. 6/10

gold border cause you’re level 90 in na. i have a lot of problems with you but i’m not the right person to talk about it. you’re still so bad in terms of racist designs i’m sorry. wish they had done you better. pat pat. 6-10/10 cause i’m conflicted honestly. your personality isn’t bad but like……….. the design… and the fact that they turned you into this like shaman when you just weren’t… and the fact that you didn’t like pictures being taken and i’m sorry geronimo that they did this to you you don’t deserve it

i wasn’t playing fgo when you arrived so please can i have a rerun? can i please have a rerun? i want iri. good mom. i want her to adopt caren and angra and be the ‘cool mom’. i’d like a hug please. thanks mom. 7/10

i associate you with ip so you’re good. i wish your final art was more interesting though. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh your event is good too. love your relationship with li shuwen. i kinda forget all the time that you were in the summer race event. WHoops. oh and also you can do your NP on me thanks. 5/10

hey i have you too! sorry you’re at like.. level 41.. i’m sorry i have a lot of casters. nice thighs.. i like your face things as well. ears are cute. hope you’re having fun with your gf. wish you would work better as a catalyst for your gf tho lol. keep it up im proud of you. also ugh beat up ozy for me thanks. 6/10

10/10 MOM. maybe one day you can be your normal self again. wish that instead of da vinci lily they did it so you went to like a different painting instead but whatever. i’ll kill kirei for you dw

you’re good. i want you to come home so i can have more dumas catalysts tbh. but you’re soft and good and i hope you’re having fun. here take a head pat. 5/10

i’d probably only roll cause then i’d have the complete emiya-einzbern family. but you’re still on thin ice. i’m sorry your event is horrible. i’m sorry your anime is too. here take a head pat. 3/10

you came home recently too! and not even in the dantes/casgil gacha which confused the shit out of me lol. thank you artist for drawing a gil so that we can finally get more gil content cause takeuchi would never. associate you with a lot of people like you’re constantly showing up on my friend’s supp list. you’re good, i think i like you better than your archer version. take a nap. 7/10

5/10 thanks for carrying me you fuck. 

PLEASe. PLEase come home. Why did you send Medb twice. I wanted you. You’re the last author I need. Literally all I need is you now. Please. I’m begging you. How much must I give for you to come home? I’m on my knees. I’m sorry Agartha did.. that. I’m sorry people do gross shit to you. I’m sorry for your tag. I’m sorry people say racist and gross things about you. I’m so sorry you have to deal with this shit. Please.. I have your gf. You can be happy here I promise. 100/10

you’re like one of the few summer servants who’s ascensions make sense good job. also like your animations. if you’d come home that would be great more dumas catalysts. 5/10

I think it’s always a good sign when you’re aunt in law comes home twice. I love how they took your name seriously with the bird wings. And I love all the subtle hints to Medea in your design, as well. Circe is by far my favourite part of The Odyssey, so I’m glad she was added. I’m curious to see if they’ll add Odysseus and what she thinks about him 9/10

I don’t have much to say about you I just wish they didn’t just shove a bunch of “vaguely African things” together and call it a day. Your attacks are cool though and I wish you and your husband a good time. Hope you have fun with David, too. 5/10?

another high on my wife list. did not know how much i loved you until i rolled you. i like you and kadoc so i won’t say you’re my wife. love your anniversary art thing. hope you’re having a good day. kinda confused about the whole “i knew i died thing” considering that anastasia became so well known because people weren’t sure if she had died or not.. kinda feels weird in a series about characters being altered by how they were remembered 15/10

gold cause he’s currently 85 in jp. can’t wait to get you to 100 baby love you. didn’t care for you as much in apo but you’re cool now. wish you would be more of a jackass to me though, show me how much you despise humanity you lil shit. multiple arms? good. horns? good. 10/10 great design love you. currently at 8/10/10 why do you need so many bullets for huh? just curious. anyways. infinity/10

you’re good. don’t think you’re like, the best fate protag but you’re good. don’t deserve all the shit you got though lol. here have a head pat. 6/10

you’re only used cause you pair well with dantes. what the fuck is going on in your final art btw. 3/10

gremlin. do not trust. 7/10

oh you know. he’s alright, i guess. 

[bravemccalll]

matters of the heart

Haine Hinata and Fuyuka Kuzuyuu sit next to each other in History and they hate each other.

It is the beginning of the year and already Fuyuka can feel her teeth grit when she looks over and sees that Haine's textbook already has little notes scribbled into the margins, beneath pictures, on pink post-its that look as though they have been slammed onto the pages with little care. A little voice in the back of her mind tells her in a voice that sounds remarkably like Nagino's soft drawl that Perseus does the same thing with his Chemistry books but she ignores it. His notes look nicer, she tells herself. Not like chicken scrawl.

Fuyuka tells Haine this. But she only blinks at her owlishly before murmuring a slow 'alright' and turning back to the front. It makes her blood boil.

She complains about her loudly to all her friends in Perseus's apartment after a particularly aggravating period of History in which Haine had the audacity to catch Fuyuka's pencil when it had rolled off the desk and return it to her with a soft smile.

Chikara doesn’t look up from where he's lying spread out on the couch with his head on Nagino's lap when he says, "I think she's cute."

Nagino doesn't even blink as she hums her agreement. Fuyuka looks over at them in shock from where she had been pacing in front of the window. Perseus doesn't bother to hide his smile at her expression. "You-You think she's cute?" Nagino nods. Fuyuka struggles to explain to them why they are so wrong. "She's not cute. She's a demon!"

"How demonic of her," Chikara murmurs, turning back to his DS, "To hand you your own pencil."

Fuyuka turns to Perseus. "Please tell me your on my side," she pleads.

Perseus smirks and stands up. "So, do guys want Chinese or Indian?"

Fuyuka throws herself into an armchair with a groan. "Does anyone know where I can get some real friends?"

"Argos?" Nagino suggests.

"Shut up."

//

Haine pauses typing on her computer to glance at Kazuha who is sitting in front of her tall mirror, a bottle of pink hair dye dangling from her fingers. "Do you know Fuyuka?"

Kazuha snorts, dropping the bottle. "Duh," she says. She pushes her light hair back and Haine wonders if she's ever actually going to dye it. She narrows her eyes at Haine in the mirror. "Why?"

"She hates me," Haine says simply.

Kazuha flops onto her back with a groan. "Not this again. She doesn't hate you, she just doesn't like you."

"She doesn't like me so much I think it counts as hatred."

Kazuha rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, bro."

"Don't call me bro in my Christian home."

"Shut up."

//

Later, Haine will reflect that this was the Thursday which changed her life. (She tells Kazuha this afterward and she groans and smacks her arm. "You're so over-dramatic, dear lord." Haine laughs and feels light.)

The first thing to happen was that on her way to her first class, Chikara Nanami and Nagino Komaeda stop in front of her in the hallway with identical smiles. It causes a fluttering to rise up in her stomach that she quickly ignores in favour of looking at them with what she hopes is a questioning glance not blatant admiration.

"You're very pretty," Chikara says, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Haine feels her face heat and hopes that her darker skin tone hides it enough that they don't notice. She's about to stutter out a thanks and leave quickly when Nagino reaches forward and presses a kiss to her cheek and the both of them join hands and walk away as though nothing happened, as though everything was perfectly normal.

Haine thinks about it for hours afterwards, quiet enough that Kazuha notices at lunch. "What's up with you?" she asks through a mouth filled with tuna pasta.

Haine doesn't notice to tell her to not talk with her mouth full because she's too busy gazing out the window as her seat gives her the perfect view of the tree outside. Underneath the tree is a group of people. Haine knows who they are even without being close enough to see them clearly. Perseus Pekoyama, his hair grey and though Haine can't see, she knows that his eyes are red and sharp. Once she caught him staring at her in the hallway like he couldn't figure her out and Haine had rushed away, eager to escape the way his eyes has turned her inside out. Next to him is Fuyuka, her hair shining bright in the sun and Haine can see the bruises that discolour her legs, the purple smudges on her knees look like plums and she looks like a painting, all sharp edges and side glances. Sitting on the grass across from them both is the subject of Haine's thoughts: Chikara and Nagino. They're leaning against each other and Haine wonders what it's like to belong so completely to another person, to own the same soul. It hurts her chest so she looks back at her lunch.

Kazuha misreads the situation. "Don't let her get you down, bro. She's probably just jealous."

Haine glances up at her friend, frowns. "What?"

"Fuyuka. She's probably just angry that you're better at history than her."

Haine shakes her head and stands up. The end of lunch is approaching and she has History next. "But I'm not," she says, and leaves.

The second thing to happen, occurs just twenty minutes later. She's sitting next to Fuyuka as she always does but this time her mind is preoccupied with thinking about Chikara and Nagino that she barely even notices the volatile girl sitting next to her.

They work in silence, working on the essays that their teacher told them was due in the next day. Their teacher excuses herself from the room for a second and it all goes to shit. From behind them a voice calls out and Haine sees Fuyuka's shoulders stiffen from the corner of her eyes.

"Wow, do tell me, Fuyuka, how is Perseus in bed? I have a bet going on that he's a blushing virgin in the sheets but Yasuka here tells me that he's a freak. Care to share?"

Juno Enoshima. Haine could slam her head on the desk. This isn't the first time that he's tried to start a fight with Fuyuka and Haine is willing to bet real money that it won't be the last. She looks over and sees Fuyuka's nostrils flare as she begins to turn, to punch Juno in the face or just shout at him, Haine doesn't know but she's willing to bet on the former.

She doesn't know why she does it. Afterward she'll tell herself that it is because she's actually quite brave and chivalrous, she just din't know it until that moment, but at the time all she can see is the bruises on Fuyuka's knees and the lingering scabs that decorate her knuckles. At the time all she can think is that Fuyuka doesn't deserve to get hurt anymore. At the time all she can think is that Fuyuka may not be her friend and may constantly scowl at her whenever she so much as shifts in her chair and snaps at her whenever she passes her a pencil but Juno is even less of her friend so her hand is shooting out before she can think about it too much.

With her hand tight around Fuyuka's elbow, Haine pulls her back before she can throw the first punch and turns to Juno herself and says with as cold an expression as she can manage, "Could you, like, shut the fuck up, please?"

She turns back to her essay just as the teacher enters the room and is met with Juno laughing almost manically as her goons stare at the back of Haine's head in shock. Fuyuka is also staring at Haine but she also goes back to her work. She doesn't say anything but Haine can feel her eyes on her every few seconds. When the bell rings, Haine grabs her stuff and bolts.

//

Haine tells Kazuha everything that happened, face planted into her pillows and regretting being born. Kazuha had merely dropped onto the back of her upset friend sighed and said with all the compassion in the world, "That's rough, bro."

"What have I said about calling me bro."

"It's this or loser, bro."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Kazuha says, sounding delighted.

//

The next day, Haine avoids eye contact with anyone who she thinks would be connected to Fuyuka but it's all for nothing. On her way to lunch at her usual table with Kazuha, she is intercepted by Chikara and Nagino who seemingly appear out of nowhere and link arms with her and drag her the opposite way.

"What-"

Chikara interrupts her. "Haine, I need to ask you for your incredibly valuable opinion. What is better, strawberry ice-cream with chocolate sauce or chocolate ice-cream with strawberry sauce?"

Haine blinks at him. They're the same height she realises and the thought makes her heart thump harder. She turns to Nagino for help because she's beyond confused and finds her looking down at her with an equally earnest expression. Nagino is taller than her by a few inches, enough that her eye level is her chin and this makes Haine's knees almost weak. Deciding to just answer the question and hope they let her go back to the canteen, she opens her mouth just as they push open the double door to go outside. "Um….neither?"

Nagino and Chikara look at her unimpressed. "Neither?" Nagino repeats. Haine nods dizzily. "Wow, why are we even attracted to you. You have terrible taste."

The argument that she had halfheartedly created in her mind dies at that she decides that she is definitely dreaming. The dream only gets worse when they reach the tree and Haine sees Fuyuka staring stubbornly at her bruised knees while Perseus murmurs something into her ear beside her. Kazuha is sitting, leaning against the tree and waves joyfully at Haine. "Y'know, I think we've been kidnapped," she grins.

"I don’t think that's a sentence that should be said with that tone," Haine replies, brain running on autopilot more than anything.

Nagino snorts and plops down on the ground, as graceful as her long legs seem to allow her to be. Chikara settles beside her, pulling out a games console from his pocket and starting to play it. Haine stands awkwardly, unsure of anything that is happening or why. She's about to clamber over so that she can sit next to Kazuha when Fuyuka starts to speak. "Listen, I just want to say that… it's cool that you told Juno to shut the fuck up. He had it coming, you know?" Haine thinks she can count on one hand the amount of times something she has done has been described as 'cool' but she just nods her head slowly. Fuyuka seems to take this as something that she likes because her shoulders relax from their hunched position and she leans against Perseus who smiles a little at Haine. "Also, sit down, Jesus Christ you look like a weirdo."

Haine sits down surrounded by various voices telling Fuyuka off and her heart feels like it has been stranded for so long and now it has finally found home.