#is abby going to be in a suit like she's supposed to be?

[inkdemonapologist]

nobody asked but since I've seen a lil chatter on the DCTL Graphic Novel on tumblr too, here's the thread I posted on twitter, speaking as someone who's done a little freelance work as a comic artist, under the jump:

Main thought about the DCTL graphic novel preview is: yeah, I've made designs like that when I was being paid by the page and expected to just throw in extra design work for free and I have a deadline and no time to scour the source material or really put my heart into the design No shade to the artist; every complaint I have about the pages we've seen is that this looks like someone who was just working (quickly) from a script. The artist is likely not a Big Fan, so they only know the info and descriptions they're given. And the artist's portfolio shows they're capable of the kind of designs and dynamics this comic needed. its possible they phoned it in for no reason, but feels more likely to be "not enough time/not paid enough/not given enough info to give it that level of care." Which, don't get me wrong; an important level of craftsmanship and care is missing and im not gonna blame the artist but i AM gonna be a hater abt it lmao It's not just about designs; the convo with Joey is another good example. It's a literal illustration of the things Joey said and did in that scene, but it's missing the point -- that scene is our introduction to the way Joey throws Buddy off-balance. That energy is missing. And that's the sort of thing that needs the script to convey this purpose well to the artist, that needs the artist to have time & freedom to invest in portraying it, that needs time & investment & knowledge to ask for adjustments at early stages and get the page right one more note: begging batim fans 2 think abt the plot of DCTL and realise why "maybe we will not make the creepy guy who dies at the end a black man in this" is perhaps a reasonable choice. like im a fan of poc norman headcanons too but pls recognise this would be a tough call!! anyway, genuinely cannot wait to see how off sammy is gonna be in this lmao. will he be a mid non-design like norman or will he be conventionally handsome or will he get graphic novel dave miller vibes b/c hes an antagonist? will we get the fabled black hair sammy??? i cant wait

TL;DR I strongly suspect this was an issue of not enough time/not enough money. That design looks nothing like the description of Norman, right? Like, there's hundreds of different AU designs of all shapes, colours and sizes that you could create that would still look like Norman Polk, but somehow they managed to make a character that isnt ANY of them, lmao??? So... how could that happen, unless nobody gave the artist a description of Norman? Or if they did, how did that design make it past anyone else, unless there wasn't time for revisions or a system worked out for revisions, unless whoever was managing the comic project thought it was fine if the designs didn't fit with the descriptions in the book? If everyone is doing their job, then the artist is given the information they need without having to go do unpaid YA novel research before they can start drawing. That's why you have a writer adapting it!!

("they should hire fans, a fan would've done a better job" OK BUT THATS B/C FANS ARE MORE LIKELY TO ALLOW THEMSELVES TO BE EXPLOITED AND DO EXTRA UNPAID WORK B/C THEY CARE!! THATS NOT A SOLUTION!!!! THATS A JOEY DREW STRAT!!!!!!!)

Anyway I could yell about this for 15 years so I'm going to shush for now BUT I JUST FEEL VERY STRONGLY ABOUT IT LMAO.

[eightstarr]

visions — abby anderson.

summary: a love letter to trying (or the time when you met your favorite people in the world, an overly stressed med student and her overly adventurous one-year-old, in your apartment's hallway).

notes: constantly suffering from chronic baby fever so this is a present from me to you because i spend way too much time thinking about abby as a mom <3

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

You’re stepping out of the elevator when you suddenly hear it— a series of light thumps on the floor, fast but determined like a tiny little elephant who really has somewhere to be right now. Another step and then you stop clumsily when a flash of golden hair comes rushing past you. You follow the sight with your eyes, tilting your head. A little girl is walking, no, stomping through the hallway. She’s no older than two years old, her thin shining hair in two short braids, blue jean overalls and red socks on her feet. She moves so confidently that you almost don’t think about it, almost have the instinct to look away as if to not accidentally appear nosy, but her tiny stature and wobbly sense of direction keep your attention.

You look around the hallway, expecting surely the sound of the little girl’s parent calling her name (something sweet and pretty and classic, you imagine; it’d suit her). You picture her name being followed by a tired sigh before her patents rush to catch up, maybe rolling their eyes in a way that pretends to be annoyed but unmistakingly holds a million times more affection. A perfect family, a tiny glimpse of a full life somehow existing right in your unimportant building.

The hallway is long and terribly empty. You look back at the little girl who is striding forward in less of a rush now, with no worries, like this is the same route she’s taken for years.

What are you supposed to say to get a kid’s attention when you don’t know their name? What’s something concise, yet nice, yet simple enough to be understood? Babysitting as a teen has prepared you for a lot, just maybe not all of it. It's been a little too long. You linger on it for just a second before spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hi, princess,” It’s a little awkward, but you’re relieved when she immediately stops and spins around, like something about it sounded familiar— could be your sweet tone or the nickname, you’re not sure. The little girl tilts her head to the side, round cheek lightly squished against her shoulder. It's the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and it makes you giggle like a charmed kid. “Where did you come from?” you ask, but before you have the chance to reach her she pouts her lips, as if just now realizing that you’re not who she thought you were. And then she turns her back, like there's no time to waste, to return to her journey with renewed enthusiasm.

In a scarily fast moment, you realize that she’s going for the stairs. It would maybe be a slightly less terrifying idea if that stupid door actually worked— but it doesn't, it broke sometime last May and now it's awfully easy to open, no strength or shove required. Sometimes, if it's windy and quiet enough, you can faintly hear it swing back and forth from your apartment. The little girl reaches a hand out, not intimidated by the tall door more than three times her height. If you weren’t this terrified, you’d find it amazingly admirable. 

You don’t register you’re running until you reach her, don’t register the sound of fast steps behind you or the scream of Rue! or anything else other than the heavy relief on your chest when you lift the baby by her armpits and hold her over your hip against your side. She’s fussing in your arms immediately, upset that she’s being interrupted, especially by a stranger. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay,” you coo, though trying to be soothing when your heart is beating this fast is admittedly not the easiest task.

“Rue!” Someone repeats, and this time you do hear it. A woman is running down the hallway, hand coming down to mindlessly drop a tote bag bursting with groceries on the floor by the time she’s in front of you. The little girl reaches out her arms immediately, tiny fists opening and closing furiously and you sigh with relief as you carefully pass her over to the arms of the tall stranger. Her hair is blonde but darker than Rue’s, held back in a braid that looks both pretty and messy, like it was once pristine and then slept on. She’s wearing jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt, a black tank top underneath. Her chest rises and falls and you notice that yours is no different. Adrenaline is a strange bond to share with a stranger, but it does make things less awkward, knowing you’re both here, feeling the same thing. You meet her expertly focused eyes for just a second before she turns to look at the little girl, searching for anything that could be wrong. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. You’re okay, right? You’re okay,” the baby flashes a precious, wobbly smile at the sound of her voice, but she’s quickly distracted by the endlessly fascinating rainbow of groceries that lie on the floor. Her tiny head peeks over her mom’s shoulder to observe and it’s like you both can take a more soothing breath now, knowing she’s okay. “Thank you so much,” Abby says. You blink a couple times before you realize that she’s talking to you. “Sorry, I really don’t know how that happened. We were— we just got home from the store and I hadn't even put down all the bags yet and I thought— I was convinced that I shut the door, but…” her rambling drifts off and the stranger takes another breath, reddish embarrassment crawling up her neck.

You understand, suddenly, that she’s not only struggling with the stress of losing and finding her baby, but also the shame of having to face a stranger who might judge her for it. It feels insane to you, to think that she would be forced to prioritize that right now. “Oh, no, it’s okay!” you rush to respond. “I saw her immediately, and you were here in seconds! She wouldn't have gotten any further than that,” your smile is soft, but you speak with enough confidence to be reassuring (babysitting lessons, perhaps), “It was just a scare— don’t be too hard on yourself, please.”

Abby looks disarmed by your answer, her eyebrows raised in surprise. A short moment passes before she nods and smiles back, a small gesture without any less warmth. It’s the most relaxed you’ve seen her so far and it suits her beautifully, enough to make your face feel warm. Her blushing is much less forgiving though, more physically evident on her skin, spread over her cheekbones and the bridge of her pretty nose.

Rue giggles and it distracts you both, her hand waving excitedly at the colorful bird printed on a box of cereal as soon as she spots him. Abby looks at you for a second too long before she clears her throat, joking, “Sorry, she really loves that guy.”

You hum. “He is pretty cool, to be fair.”

Abby tilts her head, copying your sincere tone. “I don’t know, I always thought he’d be kind of a dick in person. He just looks like the type.”

Your startled laugh makes her smirk but she's frustratingly good at hiding it, free hand covering her mouth casually enough that you don’t notice. You look at the grabbing motion of the baby’s hands and pout with sympathy. “She loves him, though. We should probably get him off the floor.”

“Yeah, I should get that— I guess I just ran out with the bag, huh?” Abby huffs. She looks and sounds, physically, a lot less anxious now, less ashamed and more annoyed at herself.

“Would you like some help?”

“That’s okay, I got it,” she’s not sure that she does but she says it anyway, instinctively. Abby tries to lean down and Rue clutches her shirt, pulling enough to communicate that she is not ready to be put down yet. Abby straightens her back quickly enough to communicate that she is not ready to risk getting her any more upset for today. She meets your eyes for just a second. “Well, maybe some help.”

“Sure, just some,” you chuckle. “I’ll get it, don’t worry about it.”

People say that to Abby a lot— don’t worry about it! She hears it from her colleagues when she inevitably asks for the notes from the last class she ran a little late to, from a few of her kinder professors when she’s a day past some assignment’s deadline, from the guy at the grocery store that picks up the packets of M&M bags from the floor when Rue’s curious hands knock them over, from her dad when she asks if he’d be okay with babysitting for just a tiny bit longer. It always makes her stomach turn with guilt, some cases more intense than others, her lips usually pursed as she turns around and takes a breath. This time when you say it, she finds the guilt passing through her with ease, a short visit that makes her shoulders tense before it gets replaced by something else. She believes you, for some reason. Her brain is quiet except for thinking, for once, that there could really be nothing to worry about.

Your hands move casually as you pick everything up, resting on your knees like it’s not uncomfortable, like they might as well be your groceries. The idea is startling. Abby thinks, suddenly, that if someone were to walk into this scene, they wouldn’t read you as a kind stranger. Your ease would hint to something else, a friend, a lover, a picture of a family. Abby finds herself looking at your hands again, brought back to reality only by the slight tug of her hair. Rue plays with her braid distractedly, mumbling to herself about her froot loops friend— except she hasn’t quite learned to pronounce it yet, so it sounds more like oot oops.

Abby chuckles, brushing some of her loose baby hair behind her ears, mumbling back answers to her gibberish to keep her entertained even if Rue doesn’t seem to need it. She’s always endlessly thrilled to just be outside, perhaps the one trait she got from her grandpa rather than her mom. Other than her light snoring.

“She loves you a lot,” you comment, rising from your knees with the bag hanging on your shoulder. You don’t ask and Abby doesn’t think about it—  you just start walking back to her apartment together. “Don’t you, Ru-Ru?” the baby giggles, her head turning to you, blue eyes sparkling. You laugh, “Oh, you like that name. It suits you, Ru-Ru.”

“That’s what my dad calls her,” Abby explains.

“He sounds like a man with taste,” you say. “What do you call her?”

“Princess.”

Your smile is wide and pleased. “That suits her even more, I fear.”

“I think so, too,” Abby agrees, a proud little glimmer in her eyes. She stops in front of her door, B06 engraved in silver. Is it always such a short walk from the elevator? She’s seriously thinking about it until, after realizing in an embarrassing second that she never introduced herself to the person kind enough to chase after her baby, help pick up her groceries and carry them home, Abby suddenly turns to you with widened blue eyes and pretty, reddened cheeks. You forgive her before she even says anything, and forget your traitorous reason before it gets a chance to warn you about how dangerous that thought is. “God, sorry, I never told you my name. I’m—”

“Abby, right?” you smile softly at her surprised face, chuckling before you explain, “One of our neighbors is an old friend of mine and she kinda threw this welcome party for me when I moved in. I promise we weren’t gossiping, but I think someone mentioned you.”

“Oh,” Abby nods casually, brushing it off as if she won’t be spending all night thinking about what your first impression of her might’ve been like. Rue fusses in her arms, a little grunt as she kicks her legs to be put down. “Sorry— I‘ll be right back,” Abby shares a quick look with you and you wave goodbye, not surprised to be missing Rue as soon as she turns around. You watch them walk inside together, a tiny hand waving back at you and making you smile as she excitedly makes her way to her playpen, shrieking bye-bye! Abby places a kiss on top of Rue’s blonde hair and makes her laugh with some noise that you don’t quite catch. She’s comfortable here, walking amongst colorful toys and biology books. She moves like an expert, pulling down her shirt where it rode up somewhere along the way. You make half an effort not to stare, but it’s half more than the effort Abby makes to not let it get to her head. The most confident she’s felt so far, she asks you, “Did that totally innocent welcome party of yours happen, like, two weeks ago? I think I heard some music.”

“It was extremely innocent,” you insist, eyebrows raised teasingly, “And no, sorry, not sure what that was— I moved here like a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You grace her (or yourself) with a second of silence before you laugh at her awkward expression, the way she brushes a hand over her flushed face and huffs. “Fuck, that’s embarrassing. I’m kinda terrible at keeping up with this type of, uh, social stuff.”

“It’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s a big world,” you reassure her. “Even bigger when you’re doing a million other stuff.”

You tell her your name and Abby, who is young like you but also highly knowledgeable on little specific human interaction cheat-codes that come with being a mom, nods her head and makes her eyes light up with what seems, to the naive eye, like recognition. “Oh, that’s right!”

You stare for a second before squinting your eyes. “Are you lying to me, Abby from B06?”

Abby grins, wondering when was the last time she found being caught this funny. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

You laugh the loudest you have so far and a daydreamed life flashes in Abby’s head— in that big, dramatic way that it does only when you’ve been watching too many rom-coms every night, or when you’re getting too much dating advice from your friend who’s been married since eighteen, or maybe when you fall in love with a pretty stranger who seems to be able to read your mind. It’s an idealized vision of an idealized world, and Abby finds herself being completely okay to clutch it in her fists to keep, because it’s fucking lovely.

“Well, I forgive you,” you tell her, unaware (maybe?) of the chaos that you’ve induced inside of her. “You’re a busy girl.”

Abby tries to think of a good, smooth way to tell you that she could see herself saying your name everyday, placed adoringly after good morning and I miss you. All she comes up with is, “I got enough time to learn it.”

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You play with the hem of your shirt, pajamas made of mostly Abby’s clothes every night, a scent on them that’s not yours but it might as well be. It’s yours in all the ways that matter, in the same sense that she is. Abby walks out of the bathroom wearing her usual pajamas— a shirt that fits too loose and boxers that are a little too tight around her thighs. She doesn't seem to mind them, and you don’t seem to wanna complain. She knows by the way you look at her. You’re leaning back on your palms, your head tilted, the same shyness and sparkly adoration in your eyes that you’d get when you didn't know each other all that well. It’s not too often that she sees that nervousness anymore, but she still gets glimpses of it, a blink of something on your face or your tone or your breathing that says I have a crush on you and I’m hoping you can’t tell. She likes that nervousness the best right now, the way it’s timid and then settles into something like cockiness when you remember that she’s looking at you just the same, when you remember how much you like the way she copies the tilt of your head and teases you as if she's not also smiling like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

Abby loves every moment like this, loves getting home and helping prepare dinner and making Rue laugh before kissing her goodnight, loves doing the dishes with you and flirting and talking about the day. Today, she’s especially looking forward to the latter.

“So, how was it?” she asks, the back of her thighs resting against the dresser. She’s trying to play it cool and she's annoyingly good at it, even now.

“Hm?” you hum, leaning further back to rest on your elbows, your back almost fully touching the bed. Abby feels a little bad keeping you up, but she knows she’ll be tossing and turning all night if she has to wait until the morning to ask.

“The school meeting.”

“Oh,” you smile wide enough to look silly and beautiful, sweet enough to rot teeth. She feels like she could sink in it, your smile and the relief it brings to her well hidden nervousness. “I loved it so much, Abs.”

Abby is smooth when she walks closer, soft when she cups your cheek, but there's something anxious in her eyes if you know where to look. “Yeah?” she insists.

You nod your head and kiss the palm of her hand, your lips pressed together in that funny way of trying to hold back an excited giggle. Abby smiles and feels nostalgic for the time, many many months ago, when she’d bring a finger to her lips to shush you and then remind you in an expert whisper that Rue is sleeping in the other room. She doesn't have to teach you much at all anymore, and every moment that proves that to her feels like the most beautiful, unfamiliar peace.

“I’m so happy,” you announce, looking up at her. You’re tired enough that it feels almost like being drunk, which is maybe why a short giggle manages to escape. Abby finds it contagious, your joy moves through her as naturally and importantly as the pumping of her blood. “I’m so excited for all of it.”

It’s the second parents' meeting that you’ve attended at Rue’s school— but you spent that first one sitting quietly by her side, practically hiding behind her, too aware of yourself and of the fact that you don’t really know what you’re doing. “Nobody knows,” Abby confessed on your way home, a hand on the steering wheel and another over your leg, her fingers tapping a comforting rhythm. “Parenting is beautiful, it just comes a lot less naturally than you’d think. That thing about a biological, primal wisdom or whatever— it’s a nice concept. But the best things I know came from me actively trying.”

Her words echoed in your head when you said yes to attending this school meeting alone, when you smiled and made the effort to look as calm as you could, kissed her cheek and said “of course!”. Being Rue’s parent doesn’t always come naturally, but it comes from the most genuine love, every single time. Of course you can go to her meeting when Abby can’t reschedule work, because of course you want to know about how Rue is doing in school. It’s an honor to be there for her, to speak for her when you know she needs you to. This is you actively trying.

“How were the other parents?” Abby asks, lying on her side now, her finger tracing unreadable patterns on your cheek. She craves physical contact more than she’d like to admit— but it works great, because you never ask her to admit it if she doesn't want to. The pads of her fingers say enough.

“They were cool, they were all very sweet to me. Well, Leo’s mom is a little passive aggressive but she’s that way with everyone,” you comment through a yawn, the side of your face comfortably pressed against your pillow. Abby hums, agreeing. “Sophie’s mom was the nicest, she sat next to me and invited me to join her and Jade’s mom for brunch.”

“Which Sophie?”

“The one that gave Rue a Valentine’s gift, that milk chocolate that she loves.”

“Oh, I like that Sophie.”

“Me too. I think I wouldn't mind joining a weekly brunch cult with her mom.”

Abby laughs in the way that she only does when she’s sleepy, where she sounds almost like her teenage self, shy and sweet. By the time it dies down, you’re almost asleep. But then, softly enough that you almost don’t hear it, she asks, “How do you think you would feel if she called you that?”

You make a questioning little sound that sounds like "what?" but not quite.

“If Rue called you mom.”

Your eyes open in a second, though not without effort. You look at Abby’s face, her pretty, relaxed features, and answer honestly. “I would probably cry. And then kiss her cheeks for as long as she let me.”

Abby chuckles. “Like when she fell off the swing and got the tiniest scratch on her knee?”

“Yeah, just— the joyful version of that, I guess. They would be the happiest tears ever spilled,” you explain, so sincere that Abby almost tells you. And you know her enough to read it on her face, the way she barely parted her lips and then pressed them back together quickly. Your head lifts from the pillow. “Wait, why? She told you something? Did she ask about that?”

Abby is great at keeping it cool, but less so once she’s been caught. Her nervous chuckle says it all. “I…”

“Abby, I swear to god, I will not let you sleep until you tell me.”

She more than believes you, but a flash memory of her pinky finger wrapped around Rue’s holds her back from spilling any more details. “Sorry, baby, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Oh my god,” you drop back onto your pillow, this time lying flat on your back. “You think she’s gonna say it?” you ask, and Abby is unsure if you’re asking her or the ceiling or a godly presence way above it. Or yourself, most likely. “It’s okay if she doesn't, maybe she was just curious. Maybe she needs time. I mean, obviously. She probably won’t say it, like, tomorrow, right?” you turn your head and look at her, so wrapped up in your inner monologue that you don’t process the amusement and adoration that’s all over your girlfriend’s face. “What if I react super weird and she doesn't say it again?”

Abby’s lips stretch into the softest smile, so in love that she almost forgets to answer and instead holds her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you close to press a kiss against your forehead. Your eyebrows are still furrowed worriedly when she pulls away, and she brushes her thumb over your cheek as she lets out the kindest hum, acknowledging your question. “You’re not gonna react weird, sweetheart.”

Momentarily flustered, you shake your head to remember the point that you’d been thinking about. “But I shouldn't cry, imagine how confusing that would be for her— what if she thinks she made me upset?”

“That won’t happen. She cried happy tears when you moved in, remember? She knows what they are,” she says. It’s one of the best memories you have, the nervous look on Abby’s face when she asked you, rambling, “It would be a big change, but not the worst, right? You’d just be a couple doors down the hall. It would be a lot of the same in a lot of ways, just with us.”

After that came the late nights at your apartment, dates hidden behind the excuse of packing, half empty boxes on the floor and Abby stuck to you like glue, a kiss or ten whenever she got too carried away with excitement. A couple weeks later came your clothes in her closet, your favorite blanket on the couch, and Rue’s eyes glimmering with happy tears as she hid her face on your neck and tried to understand her feelings. Then, after a few minutes of patiently rubbing her back, came her little frown of concentration and the way she attentively listened to you and Abby explain that her reaction was normal, that sometimes happiness feels like too much to hold in just a laugh or a dance. “Oh, okay,” she’d said, in this cute proud tone that she gets whenever she learns something new that makes sense to her. It was the sweetest thing. She’s the sweetest thing— and you can’t believe this is your life, that you get to take care of her and hang out and teach her new things to be proud of.

“You think she wants me to be her mom?”

Abby smiles. “You are her mom, baby.”

Rue doesn't say it the next day. You don’t overthink it— couldn't if you tried. It's a nice feeling to be so happy that you don't feel the need to think. She doesn't call you mom that morning, but she runs to the doorway where you’re putting on your shoes to get to work and wraps her arms so tight around your legs that you have to balance yourself with a hand against the wall. Her hair is messy from sleep, her yellow pajama shirt wrinkled, her eyes blinking lazily as she looks up at you and asks, “Back soon?”

“Soon as I can, princess,” you promise, leaning down to kiss her head. What is there to overthink? What more could you possibly need?

You can do this forever, have mornings like this and feel grateful in a way that you didn't know existed until now. You love the way it comes at random times, the way you’re still you, still grumpy when your coffee tastes watery, still a little bad at getting to the train station on time, still learning not to burn the first batch of pancakes. It’s a big change, but not the worst, right? It’s a lot of the same in a lot of ways, except Abby is there at the kitchen kissing your cheek, and a tiny head of blonde hair is peeking from the back of the couch, gummy smile and freckled cheeks, saying, “I like my pancakes like that, mom!”

[kayhi808]

First Crush 16 - Happy Halloween

I know this is late but technically it's still Halloween in Hawaii. I hope everyone has fun tonight! 🥰

"Honey, you're going to need to stay still."

Abby is squirmy in the make up chair, "But N'asha, I soooo 'cited!" Raising her little fists up in the air, ready for Halloween to begin.

Stepping back with her hands on her hip, "Well, if you stuck to being a Widow, we don't have to do this part."

Sitting still as can be, "No tank you. I needs to be Diwctor Fuwy! I stay still." Natasha continues to glue down the skull cap to Abby's head.

You enter the room with Abby's utility belt stocked with snacks and her trench coat. "Ok I think...." You stop in your tracks to stare at your daughter. The cap has made her completely bald looking. You're still undecided on how to feel about her costume of choice. Once Abby sets her mind to something it's hard to convince her otherwise. You had drawn in her goatee earlier, so she was just about done. She's still wearing the Widow suit underneath the trench.

"Mama, lookit! I no more hairs!" Abby cackles as Natasha sets her down.

She skips over to you, "Yes, I can see that." You strap on her utility belt. "While we're out, you only eat the snacks in here. You cannot touch the candy you collect, ok? I'll need to check it first."

"Okies, Mama!"

You help her on with her trenchcoat and runs over to the mirror & she squeals. " Do you like it?"

She jumps up and down, "I loves it so much!" She runs over to hug Natasha "Tank you!"

"Have fun tonight," she places the final touch of the eye patch on. "Listen to your Mama."

******

Chloe, Mia and their mothers were going to meet up at the Tower before hitting the nearby neighborhoods with the girls. You dressed yourself up as a hobbit. Brown capris & vest with a white poet shirt, a green hooded cape and a walking stick. It was the same costume as last year. You had always thought the stick could double as a weapon if need be. Bucky scoffed at your idea. He said him and Sam would be joining you for protection. He refused to have you and Abby out and about on a crazy night like Halloween unprotected.

You let Abby make her entrance and you watched the looks on Bucky and Sam's faces. Speechless. Horrified. Abby did her little sashay around the room, stopping in front of Bucky, jumping up and down with her hands clasped. "Do yous loves it?!" She plays with the trench to make the bottom swish.

Bucky's mouth is open & closing like a fish out of water. He turns to Sam, "Don't look at me. She asked you."

"Wow! Abigail. Wow!" Bucky's eyes meet yours and you give him a smirk.

"This whole...look? It's going to be embedded in my brain FOREVER," Sam nods at Abby.

Abby claps her hands, "Tank you!!"

The horror hasn't left Bucky's eyes as you laugh, "We better head downstairs."

While on the elevator ride down, both Bucky and Sam try touching Abby's bald skull cap without her knowing. "Stop," you hiss at them.

The elevators open to the lobby and when the little girls see each other they all squeal and scream, running to hug each other. They are so cute! Chloe is dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and Mia is Ren from Star Wars. The 3 girls gush over the sparkly shoes, Mia's mini light saber and of course Abby's bald head. Quick introductions are made amongst the adults. Bucky had met their husbands at the father/daughter dance at the daycare so they were a little familiar with each other. And Sam is so personable, he makes everyone feel at ease.

They were about to head out when the glass door slide open and Nick Fury and Maria Hill walk in. All 3 little girls gasp. Eyes wide and mouths shaped as little "o". Just like the time before, very intimidating and frightening, trench coat flowing behind him, cutting a striking figure across the lobby.

Abby runs across the lobby, followed by her 2 best friends. "Diwector Fuwy!!" She hugs his leg, "Happy Hanoween!"

He frowns down at her, 'Who the hell are you supposed to be?!"

Chloe is afraid of his tone and Mia hold her hand. The parents quickly follow.

Abby covers her mouth and giggles. "I'm you!!" She does a little turn making sure her trench swishes out. She slides her hand in his. "You wikes it?"

"Just say you like it," Bucky says with a little growl in his voice.

You try to distract & gather everyone to head out.

Abby looks at her friends, "Him's my fwend. He's so smart and braves. Him's the big boss to my Mama, Bucky, Captain America, Black Widow, Fawcon, Iron Man, Green Man, Lightning Man, Arrow Man....all dem Avengers. He protects the whole world and even space!" Fury doesn't look as angry & gives her little hand a squeeze. "And keeps us safe." Poking her eyepatch, "So no one steals our eyeballs, right?" His frown is back in full force and her drops her hand. He takes out his money clip and drops some money into the girls bags. "Get the hell out of my lobby. Go get some ice cream or something."

Again the girls gasp and a chorus of "Tank you, Diwector Fuwy! Happy Hanoween!" They all giggle and wave like the mini fan club that they are now.

"Ok, let's get started." You all start heading out and you turn to Bucky, "I thought Steve would join us tonight."

Abby pipes up, "Uncle Steve is on important dates. He cannot."

Bucky narrows his eyes at Abby, "How do you know he's on an important date?"

Abby shrugs before running off to join her friends, "Him tells me tings."

@waywardhunter95 @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @littleredwolf @mcucatlady @silas-aeiou @hzdhrtss @florie1 @thecubanator2 @enchantedbarnes @selella @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @cjand10 @pancake-05 @ozwriterchick @crazyunsexycool @baw1066 @nommingonfood @jvanilly

[peppermintquartz]

Prompt: Runaway groom Tommy (with a happy ending hopefully)

"Hey."

Tommy looks up and over his right shoulder . It's a tall young man with curls that are almost coppery and a boyish face, with a plum-colored splotch on the outside of his left eye. He nods at the guy. "I'm not gonna hurt myself."

"Yeah, well, you're sitting on a slope that leads to a sheer drop, so pardon me if I am a little worried." The guy smiles crookedly, and Tommy's heart starts beating faster. "Also, your bride may be upset, if you got hurt or worse."

"I shouldn't have... Abby deserves better than this." Tommy surprises himself with a sniff and a chuckle. "I'm so pathetic."

The guy shrugs. His tone is nonjudgmental. "Hey. Don't say that. You're nervous, I get that."

"No, I'm not nervous. This... This isn't nerves." Tommy exhales. "You know what? I'm coming up. This isn't the most comfortable place to sit and spill my guts."

"You got that right." The guy grins at him and extends a hand. "Evan. I'll be happy to listen once we get you away from there."

"Tommy."

Evan tilts his head at him. "You wanna tell me why you ran from your wedding? I'm assuming it's not because you slept with a bridesmaid. Or a groomsman."

"Nah, I'm not that kinda guy." Chuckling, Tommy grabs the hand and lets himself be hauled back up.

Evan looks younger than Tommy, with eyes blue as the summer sky, and he is strong. His jacket fits snugly over his shoulders and his jeans make his legs look a mile long.

Tommy takes off his suit jacket and undoes the bow tie as well as the cuff links, rolling up his sleeves. He should just face the music. Before he goes, he smiles at Evan and lets himself take in the way the younger man looks in the morning light.

"I'm going to break my fiancee's heart and become the most despised man of my entire friend group," he tells Evan. "Thanks for watching out for me."

"Uh, no problem? But you don't have to-" Evan is interrupted by Abby running across the grass. She must have changed out of her uncomfortable heels into sneakers.

"Tommy," she cries. "What's going on?"

She's beautiful in her dress, and her hair shines in the sun. Tommy wishes he could have a better answer. But all he has is the truth.

"I'm sorry, Abby, I thought I could. But I can't. I can't marry you," he says, brushing away her tears. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

She stares at him. "What do you mean?"

Tommy takes a deep breath. "I'm gay, Abby. I'm... I tried to love you the way you wanted me to, and I swear, if there was an inkling of a chance between us, I would've..."

He doesn't even see the slap coming, but it dazes him for a moment and she's gone before he can shake off the ringing in his ears. The last thing he sees is her hurling the engagement ring in his direction, except her aim is slightly off and Evan catches it out of the air.

"You and your twink can go fuck yourselves!" she screams at them both before running back to the lovely blue and lavender tent set up on the southern end of the garden.

Tommy is confused. "Me and my twink?"

"I guess the wedding is cancelled," Evan says. He holds up the ring. It twinkles in the sun, a sparkling accusation.

Tommy shrugs and takes the ring back. "Better than being legally tied to each other and miserable, I suppose. Though I guess none of our friends will wanna stay friends with me now."

Evan pats his shoulder. "You did the right thing," he says. "Maybe not at the right time, but at least it wasn't too late."

"Yeah?" Tommy has to smile. "Thanks for the affirmation."

"Hey, I meant it," Evan says. "I'm gonna guess you don't have your car and no one in that tent there is likely to give you a ride unless it's to hell, so maybe you and I can go someplace, and you can tell me a little more about this?" He wrinkles his nose wryly. "Evan Buckley, full disclosure. I write-"

"-romance novels," Tommy realizes. "I know who you are." Almost shyly, Tommy says, "I, uh, I've read several of your books."

Evan ducks his head. "Okay. Yeah, so... care to be my muse for my next one?"

[lizzieisright]

Okay but like Omega!Abby wearing readers clothes???

Abby knows it drives you crazy when she wears your clothes. It started when Abby stayed at your place for her heat, and after it ended, leaving her feeling all fuzzy and loved and thoroughly fucked out, Abby felt like being in your arms is not enough.

So after Abby took her shower, she found your t-shirt and put it on, sniffing the collar deeply. It felt amazing: comforting and safe, like you always made her feel.

That's how the alpha's presence was supposed to feel like wasn't it? Not pressing or domineering at all times, not establishing control, but loving and safe.

You didn't expect to see Abby all sleepy, her hair in a messy braid, in your t-shirt. Naturally, you stopped putting food on the table and stared at her.

Abby was fucking adorable. She looked all small and cute and protected, covered in your scent.

“I wanna marry you.” You blurted and Abby bursted in laughing.

“Of course.” Abby laughed more, but then she hugged you and kissed your head. “I want a summer wedding. Somewhere in a field, flowers in my hair.”

“Done.” You agreed eagerly, already busy planning.

Whipped, absolutely whipped, Abby thought and kissed you properly, happy to be yours.

You are not usually far away from each other - since you've started dating you didn't go more than a day without seeing each other; Abby practically lives in your apartment by now.

But when you're presented with a great opportunity of going for a week-long workshop that will look great on your CV, you both completely underestimate how attached you are.

You both are excited for you, and Abby keeps smiling and talking about what an opportunity it is, and you keep gushing about it for the rest of the night. Abby helps you pack, and yes, you both smell sad when you leave, but it's not too bad.

You totally don't know how bad it will be.

You start clawing walls on the evening of the second day. You miss Abby, miss her scent and her warmth, her laugh and adorable reading glasses she wears. You want to go home.

Abby is no better: she gives up on the third day and just stays at your apartment, nesting in your bed with all your hoodies and t-shirts and suit jackets - she feels alone.

So Abby puts your hoodie on her naked body and tries to go to sleep, but the thought of the same fabric touching her bare skin after touching yours makes her squirm. Every time she moves, the hoodie touches her and makes shivers go down her spine.

Abby huffs, sits down and takes her phone out, frustrated. It's all your fault and you need to know it.

She sits on the bed, positioning herself in front of the mirror, and takes a picture: she's cross legged, her thighs are bare and it's obvious she has no underwear.

Abby sends the pic with “I thought it will make me feel better, only made me horny 😞”.

There is no answer for ten minutes, so Abby gets even more frustrated and more turned on.

Abby lies down on the bed and hits the record button.

It's been a long day and you're happy to be back in your hotel room: you take a shower and relax, looking forward for your evening call with Abby: you miss her and you want to know how her day was and if she needs anything.

You change and get on your bed, connecting your earphones, knowing you might just fall asleep while you talk, and open your chat.

You freeze. You look at the picture Abby sent you and your cock twitches while your brain goes "minemineMineMINE" - you can see Abby is naked and she is in your bed, in your hoodie, all pretty and pouty. You want to go back home and fuck the pout out of her, make your girl happy-

A new message. It's a video.

You open it and choke.

You can only see Abby's stomach covered by your hoodie and her thighs, all soft and pretty and biteable. Abby slowly parts her thighs and slides her hand down, squeezing her pussy - you can't see the whole picture, only her wrist moving as she circles her cunt with her whole palm - and she sighs quietly before bringing her hand back and filming it, spreading her fingers so you can see strings of cum between them.

“Look what you've done to me. It's your fault.” Abby murmurs accusingly and video stops.

You're hard. You want your omega, want to fuck her while she wears your hoodie, your hoodie, want to taste her and devour her-

You press video call button. Abby answers immediately with a grin - she knows what she's done to you.

“Show me.” You rasp, your eyes red, and Abby wiggles in excitement.

“Only if you do too.”

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 2)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.2k words

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, babysitting Abby. (no smut... yet.)

Part 1 Part 3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Mike calls you up to ask a favor for the 2nd night in a row. He hates having to resort to you, his ex for Christ's sake, but he has no other choice. Besides, after last night... maybe he doesn't hate it so much.

"Again?" You ask, feigning annoyance. "What, did your usual babysitter fuck off and die?"

Mike winces at that. "I hope not. I can't really afford anyone else right now."

"And why do you expect me to come be your free labor, Schmidt?"

"Because I'll owe ya one?"

"You already owe me one from last night."

"..."

"I'll owe you two."

You scoff in an attempt to cover a laugh. Damnit. Why did he have to be so charming?

"Fine. But we are not making a habit of this."

"We aren't. I promise. I'll look for a new babysitter this weekend. I just can't leave Abby alone overnight."

"That's a strange way of saying you can't go another minute without me."

"You're delusional, woman."

"A delusional woman you owe two favors, Mikey. Be careful throwing insults."

Now it's Mike's turn to stifle a laugh. He coughs in a feeble attempt at covering it up.

"What, catching a cold?"

"No. You just make me sick."

"Stop flirting with me and hang up already."

Mike does just that, slamming the corded landline phone back into it's holster. The little smiley face sticker Abby stuck to it years ago seems to taunt him almost as much as you just did. He sighs, leaning against the counter and wondering how he got himself into this mess. He shouldn't enjoy it so much when you toy with him like this. That's all it was, he was being played with. But damn it, after being lonely so long... he'd take what he could get.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You arrive at his house around half an hour later, annoyed at the prospect of crashing on his couch for the 2nd night in a row. You try to make your displeasure evident with a scowl as he opens the door, but when you see the way he's gawking at you...

"Stop staring. It's rude." You can't help but smirk slightly as you scold him, he's just so easy to mess with.

"Did you really have to dress like a slut just to babysit?" Mike hisses as you set down your things, taking in your outfit. A pair of shorts that you'd definitely be cold in, and a white tank top. Of course, you had a hoodie too, but it was unzipped, and he was more focused on what it didn't cover.

"Hey, last time you said..." Mike nods to the kitchen, and you trail off as you notice the girl sitting and coloring at the table. Abby. Oh. Right.

"You're not in any position to judge my clothing choices, Mikey."

Mike shivers as you whisper in his ear. What exactly is that supposed to mean? His clothes are fine, right? He studies his hoodie and jeans, then shakes himself and grits his teeth as he follows you into the kitchen.

"Look! Mike drew this one!" Abby excitedly shoves a piece of paper in your face as you sit down at the kitchen table with her. It's a sketch of a forest, pine trees and shrubs. It's actually rather well drawn, and you take a minute to look over it.

"It's nice, but you're the better artist for sure." You slide the paper back over to her and give Mike a teasing smile as he sits down across from you, on the other side of Abby.

"Oh, I know." She turns her attention back to her own drawing, another one of Mike. And... wait, was that...? No, it couldn't be...?

"Abby, what are you drawing?" Mike asks the question before you can, craning his neck to get a better look at her paper.

"You." She responds vaguely, still scribbling away.

"Okay, but what exactly is he doing?" You ask, scooting closer to her for a better look.

"And what am I wearing?"

"A suit. It's your wedding." Abby casually drops a bomb on you both, still not even bothering to look up from her paper. Wedding? Mike?

"You're engaged?" You turn to the dumbfounded older Schmidt, and discreetly scan his hands, looking for a ring.

"N-no? What? Abby, I'm not getting married." He finally sputters, face flushed a light shade of pink.

Abby doesn't respond, still focused on her drawing. Now that you're sure what it is, you can totally see it. The red isle. The benches. Mike, wearing... something that sort of resembles a suit, if you squint. And... a bride. You nearly choke when you spot her.

"Abbs, who's that?" You ask, pointing a shaky finger at the bride, who almost looks familiar...

"You."

"..."

Mike gives you a look, and you both quickly excuse yourselves from the table.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"Seriously, Mike? First you tell her I'm a witch, then you tell her I'm your fiancé? Make up your goddamn mind." You scowl at him and zip up your hoodie as he closes the door behind you. The night air is chilly, and you're almost starting to regret the shorts. Almost.

Mike returns your scowl as he leans against a wall. His porch isn't exactly the best hang out spot, but you two needed to speak privately after Abby's little comment.

"I didn't tell her you're my fiancé." He growls, speaking firmly. Must be trying to make up for the way he was totally blushing earlier.

"So what, then? She just made it up?"

"Come on..." He groans, burying his face in his hands and letting the tough act fall for a moment. "You know how she is..."

It was true, his sister was... weird. He still loved her obviously, more than anyone, especially his stupid ex-girlfriend. But she was certainty different from other kids, made evident by the fact she spent more time talking to imaginary people than Mike.

"Seriously... I didn't fuckin' say that..." Mike wasn't a very good liar. But this wasn't lying, right? He'd never explicitly told Abby he was going to marry you, but he definitely humored her when she asked about it way back when you two were dating. He'd told her maybe. Maybe. To a kid, that meant yes.

"You sure, Mikey? Don't have a ring hidden away somewhere, waiting to pop the question?" You cross your arms and scoff, but it's hard to be angry when this whole thing is so amusing. Abby definitely had a wild imagination, but she wouldn't just make up something like that out of nowhere. There had to be more to this.

"Hell no. I'd rather die alone than marry a witch." He practically spits in anger, but he's more angry at himself than you or Abby. He should have shut Abby down immediately when she asked about marriage... especially considering the relationship hardly lasted 3 months. But, well, he was a lovesick fool. Way back then. Not anymore.

"Pfft. Fine. Have fun at work, Honey." You taunt him as you head back inside, and you can hear him grumble more than a few curses in response.

Little sisters and ex-girlfriends, man. Mike wanted to scream.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You nearly choke on your glass of water as Abby drops yet another bomb on you.

"C-can you repeat that?" You ask, coughing.

"Will you teach me witch stuff? You know, cursing people?" Abby blinks up at you innocently. Damn these Schmidts and their big brown puppy eyes.

"Please? When you lifted the curse from Mike, it really worked!" She insists eagerly. "He colored with me!"

You watch as she proudly holds up Mike's drawing of a forest. She must really treasure it.

"I... uh... why do you want to learn witchcraft, Abby?"

Abby cocks her head at the question. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." You laugh and shake your head. This kid.

"Alright... but we can't do witchery on empty stomachs. What do you want to eat?"

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike quietly slips back into the house at the crack of dawn, he nearly trips over his own feet when he sees the state of his kitchen table.

"The fuck happened here?" He mutters, picking up one of the many papers strewn across the table. The weird markings all over it vaguely resembled hieroglyphics, not that he was an expert on those. The part that really concerned him, though, was the circle of candles in the center of the table.

They weren't lit, thankfully, but they looked like they had been. Damn it. Those were for emergencies. Like the time he forgot to pay the power bill.

"Too tired for this shit." He gives up on trying to decipher whatever-the-fuck you and Abby did, and makes his way into the living room. He pauses yet again when he sees you sleeping on the couch. Was that his blanket? And pillow? From his bed? Damn infuriating woman.

"Get up." He gives your shoulder a shake, not bothering to be gentle. He doesn't have the patience right now.

"Nngh... 5 more minutes." Ugh. You sound just like Abby.

"Don't be a bum." He rips the blanket off of you, then immediately regrets it when he remembers just how little you're wearing. Your tank top had shifted, almost completely exposing your... fuck, he shouldn't stare.

"Don't you have work?" He grumbles, flopping down in his recliner and pointedly looking away from your body.

"Nah... It's my day off." You sit up and stretch, planting your feet on the floor and reaching up to the sky as you lean back against the couch. Either you don't notice that one of your breasts has fallen out of your tiny top, or you just don't care. Mike clears his throat and looks away again. Fuck. He's definitely blushing.

"Oh, shit." With a casual hand, you tuck your breast back into the tank top. Must have moved around a lot. Damn uncomfortable couch.

"You wanna explain why it looks like I hosted a cult meeting in my kitchen?" Mike snaps, finally able to focus.

"Hey, you're the one who convinced Abby I'm a witch. Not my fault the promise of learning a spell is such an effective way of getting her to eat dinner."

Mike furrows his brow at that. You got her to eat dinner? Two nights in a row? That's an accomplishment. "...Fine. But please, clean up your mess next time. I have to take her to school in a couple hours, and if the table is-"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll clean it up. Let me get some coffee first, jeez." You brush him off and make your way into the kitchen. He still has the same shitty coffee maker that looks like it belongs in an antique store. And no creamer, because Mike hates joy.

"You want a cup too?"

"I shouldn't. Gotta go to sleep after I drop Abby off at school." He grunts from the other room, and you can hear him getting out of the old creaky recliner he loves so much.

"Ah. Night shift."

"Yeah. Night shift."

Mike shuffles into the kitchen and you both stand there awkwardly for a few moments as the coffee brews.

"You don't really look like you sleep, you know." You remark, taking in his ever-present eyebags for the hundredth time.

"Yeah, well, I do. Sleeping is just so... tiring." He scoffs, making light of the situation. He's telling the truth, though. Sleep for him is more of a project than real rest. His eyes glaze over as he gets lost in thought for a moment.

"You good, Mike?" He flinches as you place a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't expecting that from you.

"Yeah, uh, just..."

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

You sigh and decide to let it go, turning your attention to the mess on the kitchen table instead. He didn't owe you an explanation, especially now that you're not together, but it was still frustrating. He's obviously dealing with something, probably a lot of somethings, and he's too stubborn to admit it. That stubbornness is gonna be the end of him, you swear. It was what ended your relationship. Partially.

"Here, I'll help." Mike fumbles to help you pick up papers and crayons, colored pencils and candles. After a few minutes, it doesn't look like such a disaster.

"Oh, by the way." You pour yourself a cup of coffee, and start to stir in a few spoons of sugar. Too much sugar, for Mike's taste. "Abby's little blue dolphin stuffed animal is invisible to you now, got it? As long as it's in the house, grown-ups can't see it. I think she put it in your room to test you. Just ignore it."

"Is that what you two were doing?" Mike leans back against the counter and scoffs, but makes a mental note to ignore the little dolphin from now one. He'd humor her, if it meant she'd eat her dinner.

"I don't know? I panicked, okay? I had to think of something harmless but still believable and exciting for a little kid."

"And 'invisible stuffed animal' was the best you could think of?"

"This is a warning. Find a new goddamn babysitter or I'm teaching her curses next. And you have to play along."

Mike can't help but smile at that. A real smile.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Already workin' on the next part don't worry <3

Edit: Part 3

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Tipsy and Turned On

Gibbs X Reader One-Shot

Prompt: You attend an NCIS Ceremony and get a little too tipsy around your boss.

Part 2

Mentions: Drinking

>>>>

You smoothed your tight dress over for the hundredth time in the last 20 minutes as Bishop ran around the little hotel room you two shared, looking for her earrings.

“They were literally on the sink just a second ago,” she cried out, exasperated. You looked at your watch, noting that you only had about 40 minutes before the ceremony started.

“Check by the mini fridge. Maybe you set them down them when you stuffed your face with the bag of peanut m+m’s.”

You checked your makeup in the bathroom mirror and put a thin coat of lipstick on before you heard Bishop’s triumphant squawk.

“Got em!”

Walking out, you saw her putting the earrings in while munching on something which you assumed was the m+m’s she was finishing. A loud obnoxious knock sounded at the door before it opened a second afterwards and Tony walked in.

“What the hell DiNozzo? You don’t just walk into our room like that. We could’ve been naked!”

“Darn, should have knocked 30 minutes ago,” he teased, making you roll your eyes.

“Are you guys ready? The ceremony starts in like a half an hour,” you heard McGee’s voice announce from the hallway. At least he had the decency to stay outside.

“Oh relax McFidget. It’s literally 3 floors beneath us. We’ve got plenty of time to grab a drink and meet some newly promoted probies.”

You spritzed a little perfume, grabbed your clutch, and walked out of the room, making sure to smack Tony on the way out. Abby and Palmer were already down in the lobby when you guys stepped off the elevator.

“Oh my gosh, your dresses are so beautiful!” she gushed while running over in her Doc Martens.

You returned Abby’s excited hug and smiled anxiously, which she caught onto.

“Nervous?”

“Yeah. The entirety of NCIS is here. Including SecNav.”

“Well let’s get you a drink then. Soften those nerves.”

The boys went to find your assigned table while you Abby and Bishop went over to the bar, each ordering a cocktail. After a couple long sips, you took a breath and tried relaxing. Crowds were never a problem for you as long as they didn’t include a bunch of higher ranking officials and their bosses walking around. You scanned the massive dining hall and spotted Vance conversing with some other man in a suit you assumed was important but wasn’t expecting to see the third individual in the conversation as well.

“Since when did Gibbs come to NCIS ceremonies?” you asked, as Abby and Bishop turned to look.

“Oh, I heard Vance is forcing him to be here since we’re suppose to be receiving an award,” Bishop explained.

So that’s why he looking exceptionally handsome in his full black and navy suit. He even wore a tie. The man definitely cleaned up well and you actually had a hard time taking your eyes off of him.

Ever since you started working with the team, you had been…intrigued by Gibbs but it never got past the point of checking him out a few times or shooting some harmless cheesy flirts that everyone would just roll their eyes at. He never gave any indication of being intrigued as well, let alone attracted to you in the time that you’ve known him.

“Alright. One shot and let’s go join the others,” you heard Abby say.

You turned to her and saw her sliding over two shot glasses for you and Bishop. Now that Bishop just told you that you were going to have to get up on stage, you needed a shot more than ever.

“Abby, you’re a mind reader.”

She just winked and clinked your glass before throwing the shot back. You and Bishop followed suit, both grimacing from the liquid flames pouring down your throats and followed her towards your reserved table.

“Looks like you 3 found the bar just fine,” Tony pointed out as you took a seat.

“Don’t you have some naive agent to be bugging?” you retorted. He smiled and gave a nod to some young woman across the way, proving your point.

“Actually, she’s a file clerk and I’ll be right back.”

He left the table in the direction of the blonde haired woman as you all shook our heads and laughed. A few minutes later you saw Gibbs walk over.

“Didn’t think you were coming Gibbs. You don’t usually like these types of events,” McGee pointed out as he took Tony’s spot beside you. Instinctively, you took a long sip of your drink.

“Vance wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

As if on cue, the lights dimmed and the SecNav walked onto the little stage area holding a microphone.

“Thank you all for attending our little get together. We have a few announcements and presentations so let’s get started. Firstly, let’s honor those that we’ve lost in our battle for justice. Agent Simmons….

We all listened quietly, occasionally nodding or clapping for different reasons but the thought of having to get up on stage soon was driving you crazy. You hadn’t even known your leg was shaking under the table until I you felt a warm hand still your movements. Looking over, Gibbs gave you a small reassuring nod calming and exciting you at the same time.

His hand had left but the warmth was still there, leaving your skin with goosebumps.

“So these awards go to Special Agent Gibbs and his dedicated team, if they could make their way over,” Vance’s voice spoke too quickly. Part of you just moved in autopilot, getting up and following behind Gibbs with the rest of the team following behind in a line. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you, judging you.

Luckily, the little bit of alcohol you had was kicking in, dulling the sense of anxiety but you knew you looked at your hands, they’d be shaking.

On stage, Vance adorned your necks with medals and shook everyone’s hands before dismissing you. It was simple and quick and you would’ve ran off the stage at top speed had you remembered how to act at such formal events.

>>>>

The hardest part was over and now was time to relax, as you sat on the floor of your hotel room, doing your 3rd shot with Bishop and Abby.

McGee had left early with Delilah and who knows what pants DiNozzo got himself in but you, Abby and Bishop were having the time of your lives.

“You should try it, you never know, you might enjoy it,” Abby suggested from the couch.

“I’m not sleeping in a coffin Abbs! I’m already claustrophobic!”

“You know what you should do. Pretend to get lost in the hotel and end up at Gibbs’s door.”

Both Abby’s and my mouth dropped open at Bishop’s comment and she laughed. She was the only one I told about my slight attraction to our boss and now Abby knew too.

“Bishop, I can’t believe you said that! I thought we had a secret together!”

“Oh don’t worry Y/N. I knew something was going with you and Gibbs wayy before Bishop told me anything.”

“What?! There’s nothing going on! And Bishop shouldn’t have said shit.”

They both laughed at the horror in your face and you prepared yourself another shot.

“You should do it though. I overheard heard him talking with Ducky about you. He didn’t say it exactly but he thinks you’re interesting. And for Gibbs to say that, that isn’t normal.”

“But I don’t even know what room is his.”

“202. Right down the hall,” Abby stated, already ready for your excuse.

“No one is saying go in there and force him to have sex with you. Just go and see what he does. If he escorts you back to your room, maybe he’s not interested. But if he invites you in..”

“What about Rule 13?”

“You know how many times we’ve broken that rule? It’s almost funny that we still have it. Come on, hurry before your buzz goes away and you chicken out.”

The both of them practically pulled you up and dragged you over to the door.

“Here are your shoes,” Bishop said, putting my heels in my hand and pushing me out.

“Wait, you guys can’t just kick me out of my own hotel room-

Your statement was cut short as they shut the door in your face, both could be heard giggling on the other side. Looking down at the heels in your hand, you decided against putting them on for fear you would faceplant if you tried walking in them and slowly made your way down the hall.

198, 200, 201..

You stood in front of 202, seriously wondering why you befriended those two. Well, it was now or never you thought as you knocked softly 3 times. A few seconds went by, you swaying slightly as the tequila did its job before the door opened up.

You were genuinely surprised at seeing Gibbs answer the door in nothing but a white tee and boxer briefs, you almost forgot the line you had planned.

“Oh. Is this not my room? I could’ve swore it was..” you probably slurred at him.

“Do you normally knock on your own door Agent L/N?”

Shit. He knew. Maybe. Maybe not.

“Do you know what time it is Y/N?”

You made a move as if to look at your watch, which you didn’t have and heard him sigh.

“It’s 2 in the morning. Have you been at the bar all night?”

Holy shit, it was that late? You were for sure going to have the worst headache the next morning.

“Yes.” Your answer was short, but your tone was almost a question. You don’t know what you were saying anymore, you honestly forgot what he asked you.

“Can I come in?” You blurted, hoping he wouldn’t turn you down. He rubbed his face in exasperation and opened the door wider for you to step in. Holy shit. Holy shit. You did not think you were gonna get this far.

You stepped into his room, noticing that all of his lights were still on and the tv played softly.

“Have you been up all this time too?” you asked, setting your heels down on the little loveseat.

“Just going over the case.” He closed the door and walked over into the bathroom. You looked around, seeing the case file spread across the little desk and the queen bed beside that looked untouched.

You weren’t sure what to do now. You do know that this tight dress you’ve been wearing for hours was starting to become very uncomfortable and this plan was looking dumber and dumber by the second.

Gibbs came back out of the bathroom and grabbed a water from the mini fridge before offering it to you along with some pills you assumed were aspirin. “Drink.”

You listened obediently and gave the bottle back to him, the both of you staring into each others the entire time. Then for whatever reason, you walked over to his bed and plopped down on it, practically moaning at how nice it was.

You almost fell asleep right then and there but then felt something drop onto you. Opening your eyes and looking down, you saw a pair of sweats and a faded USMC shirt lying on the bed.

“You’re not gonna escort me back to my room?” you asked him curiously.

“Do you remember your room number?”

You thought about it before answering honestly.

“No.”

“Then I can’t escort you back to your room. Go change.”

Whether it was the liquor that made you do it or just something deep down inside that gave you the courage, you got up from the bed and pulled your dress zipper down your back, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and letting the dress fall to the floor.

Turning around, you brought your eyes to meet his and watched his icy blue ones stare right back. “What are you doing Agent L/N?”

“I don’t know.”

You took a couple steps closer to him, the cool air making you shiver slightly and just stood there. He didn’t move an inch but you watched him slowly look over you, his mouth moving to slowly lick his lips, sparking something in you.

Taking a chance, you put your arms around his neck and brought your body close to his, noticing how his hands immediately found your hips and his head dipped to meet yours in a deep kiss.

It was better than you ever imagined and between his mouth moving against yours, his hands gripping your skin tighter and the way he pulled you in closer was giving you enough endorphins to pass out.

When you both pulled away for a breath, you smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

“Oh really?” His voice was husky and lower than usual, making you close your eyes.

He nuzzled your neck and wrapped his arms around your torso but made no attempt to bring you to bed.

“As much as I’d like to continue this further, I want it to be on a different occasion,” he spoke in your ear, kissing just below and releasing his grip on you.

Bringing your arms back down, you looked away and stepped back. He was quick to pull your chin back up to look at him.

“What about dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You just nodded and he gave a small smile, leaning down to kiss you again, making your head spin.

“You change. I’m going to take a shower,” he said, pulling back and heading into the bathroom.

You took a huge breath, letting out all the tension and multitude of emotions. You changed into the clothes and just sat on the edge of bed, absent mindedly watching whatever movie was playing.

A few minutes went by and you felt your eyes getting heavy, the alcohol and everything that happened in the day suddenly making you very tired. Knowing you weren’t going anywhere, you crawled across the bed and slipped under the covers.

“Y/N. Wake up.”

You opened your eyes to see Gibbs sitting on the bed beside you, now dressed in sweats and the same t-shirt but his hair was wet from the shower so you couldn’t have been asleep for longer than 20 minutes.

“Chug this, then you can go to sleep,” he said, handing you a small bottle of water. You smiled at his kindness and sat up. As you drank, he turned all the lights off, only the tv illuminating the room and joined you under the covers. You placed the now empty bottle on the bedside and scooted a little closer to his warm body. You weren’t sure how much intimacy to give but you were perfectly content when he moved his arm so that it rested under your head and pulled you closer.

You thought about how the nights progression went on and decided you’d actually have to thank Bishop and Abby.

[starrywilliams]

thinking about abby at a bar …

a ceo!abby drabble

notes: this is not amazing (nor very long) butttt i have other stuff coming soonish and i just wanted to post something !!

tags: nothing bad rly… drinking? me being down bad for abby?

wc: 0.8k

thinking about ceo!abby deciding to spend her evening in some shitty bar, sick of all the uptight pretentious people she usually has to spend her nights with. she walked in: the music was loud, the air was thick, and it was exactly what she was looking for.

you’d spotted her immediately - an interloper. suit still on - albeit her navy jacket now folded over her arm; sparkling watch far too visible for her to be accustomed to the unspoken rules yet; and a presence that just demanded attention. who was she?

you wondered why she was here. most people came here to distract themselves, to hide, to forget. was she one of them too? as she approached the bar, you had to try and hide your stares, but you were intrigued.

“you shouldn’t wear a watch like that around here.” you told her as you poured a beer, handing it to some man before leaning over the sticky bar to take a closer look at her. blue eyes, freckled skin, blonde hair falling over her shoulders in waves. she peered back with slight shock at your candid warning - who were you?

“so, what can i get for ya?” you asked, pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear as you pushed yourself back from the wooden countertop. “anything.” she answered, eyes meeting yours with a hopeless desperation. “tequila?” you replied, grabbing a shot glass before she had the chance to disagree.

“so why are you here?” you interrogated, pouring the clear liquid into the glass without breaking the continuance of your sharp analysis of her appearance; which was now coloured shocked, hues of scarlet and rose dancing over her skin.

“do you ask everyone such personal questions or am i just tonight’s lucky victim?” she quipped, a smirk growing as her head tilted to the side. you raised your eyebrows, pushing a slice of lime and a tray of salt in front of her. “most people answer them.”

“oh do they?” she laughed, reaching to undo her cuffs; placing the links on the counter before pulling the fabric down her forearms. “i suppose at your usual bar they don’t talk to you much… bet it’s nice, someone playing the piano while you all drink scotch - neat, of course.” you jested, noticing how her tongue poked into her cheek, amused by you.

“and for your information, yeah, they d-” you barely managed, suddenly being distracted by her newly revealed skin. her arms, you’d almost gasped, they were so big and god, you could’ve drunk the blood from her veins there and then, and was that a scar? jesus christ, they were sooo-

“what was that, sorry?” she interrupted, a teasing tone rife in her words. “yeah they do actually!” you smiled coyly, leaning forward: abby’s eye contact faltering as she briefly indulged in your cleavage - just as shameless as you had been.

“give me your hand.” you ordered, taking it in your hand when she easily complied. “what are you doing?” she asked, not getting an answer before you brushed your free thumb over your tongue - proceeding to wet the back of her hand with your spit.

her jaw fell as her eyes widened, now watching you rub some salt into the area. “you ready?” you asked, passing her the shot while she simply stared starry-eyed in your direction, still taken aback by your very forward action.

“wait, you do know how to do this, right?” you quickly interjected, for all you know that girl could’ve been a complete novice! after all, who walks around this part of town dressed like that. she didn’t seem very experienced.

“i went to college, y’know.” she replied, voice low. “ah, so you don’t just drink scotch! nice to know.” you jested, biting your lip playfully. she was going to show you everything she’d learnt in college, the drinking part at least.

“what’s your name?” abby abruptly asked, smiling when you answered, “pretty.” you rolled your eyes playfully, asking for hers in return. “well,” she held the shot up, dedicating it to you, “here goes nothing.”

she dragged her tongue through the salt, before quickly downing the liquor - replacing its burn with the lime swiftly. with a relaxed grin, she met your eyes once more. but your view drifted to the liquid just slightly running over her lip: your thumb reaching to swipe it off instinctively.

before you even realised what you were doing, you felt her lips wrap around your thumb, teeth gently scraping the skin as her tongue swirled around the pad. “abby-” you gasped, putting the newly learned name to use as your pupils blew before her.

“sorry, i don’t know why i did that- fuck.” she rambled after pulling back, staring at the counter in shock. the blasting music that ricocheted off every wall doing little to help, the pair of you frozen in some haze of awe and panic.

“no- no, it’s okay. um, i don’t get off for a while but if you wanna wait, we can- we can go-” you went on, unsure what to say to salvage the situation.

“i’ll wait.”

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖚𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖞

Mike Schmidt x gn reader

Summary: You and Mike are fighting for full custody of Mike's little sister, Abby, against their aunt Jane, who seeks custody solely for financial gain. Due to your demanding jobs, the custody battle drags on, and the court mandates that you and Mike attend a childcare course twice a week. But no one warned you of how boring it would turn out to be.

Warnings: no pronouns used for reader. Fluff and smut.

Words count: 2500

Can also be found on ao3 and wattpad

You sit beside Mike in a cramped, overly air-conditioned conference room, its walls adorned with peeling paint and motivational posters that haven't been updated in ages. The fluorescent lights cast a sterile glow over everything, making it feel more like a hospital waiting room than a place for learning.

The professional at the front drones on, her voice a monotone murmur as she reads verbatim from a bland PowerPoint presentation. Her monotonous drone fills the air, a relentless onslaught of lifeless bullet points on child care, each one more tedious than the last.

You glance at the clock, its ticking a constant reminder of the hours dragging on.

You shift in your chair, trying to get comfortable while feeling the hard plastic dig into your back.

Mike shifts uncomfortably in his seat next to you, his eyes struggling to stay open. His fatigue is palpable, dark circles mar his eyes, and his hair is tousled in a way that suggests he barely had time to run a comb through it before rushing here. You know he's had a rough night, another sleepless vigil followed by a demanding night shift.

He glances at you with a weary but determined smile, trying to muster some enthusiasm. He leans in closer, the warmth of his body a comforting contrast to the chill in the room. "Is it just me, or is this the most boring thing ever?" he whispers, his voice low and gruff with fatigue.

You chuckle softly, not wanting to attract the instructor's attention. "Definitely not just you," you reply, sharing a conspiratorial smile. The instructor, a gray-haired woman in an ill-fitting suit, continues to read directly from her PowerPoint slides, oblivious to the whispers and stifled yawns in the room.

Mike shifts his chair even closer to you, his knee brushing against yours under the table. "I can't believe we have to sit here twice a week," he murmurs. "I'd rather be doing... well, pretty much anything else."

He's trying so hard to stay awake, but the material is unrelentingly dull.

He had already taken care of Abby since her birth, those were all things that he knew already.

You shuffle closer to him, your chairs scraping softly against the linoleum floor. He leans closer, his arm bushing yours. "How are we supposed to learn anything when she's just reading to us?" His voice a low, gravelly murmur.

You smile at him, appreciating his effort. "Just try to hang in there, Mike. The more you think about it, the slower time seems to go away."

He leans closer to you again, his breath warm against your ear. "I don't know how much longer I can stay awake," he confesses, his voice laced with a tired charm that makes your heart flutter.

You nudge him playfully "Just try to hang in there."

Mike sighs heavily, his eyes blinking slowly. He leans even closer, his lips almost brushing your ear. "You know, if this were a different kind of class, I'd be finding other ways to stay awake," he murmurs, his voice taking on a playful, flirtatious tone despite his exhaustion.

You can't help but giggle softly. "Oh really? And what would those ways be?"

He smirks, his tired eyes twinkling mischievously. "Maybe we could... practice some hands-on techniques" he suggests, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You're way more interesting than this presentation," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your boredom.

You chuckled softly again, glancing around to make sure no one notices, "Focus, Mike. Stop distracting me."

He chuckles, but it's a weary sound. "Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's hard when you're sitting right next to me."

You roll your eyes affectionately, but you can't deny the warmth spreading through your chest.

Before you can respond, the lecturer clears her throat, and you both straighten up, trying to look attentive. Mike stifles a yawn, his hand covering his mouth.

You turn your attention back to the presentation, scribbling notes as the professional continues to drone on.

This course is just another hoop to jump through in the fight for custody of Abby. Jane, their aunt, is contesting custody, not out of love, but for the financial benefits. The thought makes your blood boil, but you push it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Mike's voice breaks through your thoughts, softer this time. "I really appreciate you being here with me," he says, his hand finding yours under the table. "I couldn't do this without you."

Your heart swells with affection. "We're in this together," you reply, squeezing his hand. "We'll get through it, boring lectures and all."

An hour passes with agonizing slowness.

The instructor's droning voice seems to meld with the hum of the air conditioning, creating a soporific background noise. Mike continues to fidget, his head bobbing slightly as he fights to stay awake. You can see the struggle in his eyes, and it breaks your heart.

This woman was a living sleeping pill and was starting to have an effect on you as well.

Suddenly you feel a weight on your shoulder. You glance over to find Mike fast asleep, his head resting against you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you close even in sleep. His soft snores are a gentle, rhythmic sound in your ear. They tickle, and you stifle a laugh.

You glance around the room, hoping no one has noticed. The couple in front of you provides some cover, their heads bent together as they whisper and giggle, clearly paying no more attention to the lecture than you are.

You adjust your position slightly, trying to make yourself more comfortable while supporting his weight. The last thing you want is to wake him up; he desperately needs the rest.

With one arm pinned by Mike's embrace, you do your best to jot down the key points from the slides, your handwriting growing messier as your hand tires.

The instructor continues her monotonous lecture, oblivious to the sleeping figure beside you.

Mike stirs, his body slipping precariously towards the edge of his chair. You gasp softly and adjust him, his head lolling against your shoulder. He mumbles something, his arm tightening around your waist. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, your heart swelling with affection for him.

Every so often, Mike shifts or murmurs in his sleep, and you can't help but smile at his vulnerability. Despite the circumstances, there's something endearing about his trust in you, his ability to find solace in your presence even in such an unlikely place.

He looks so peaceful, so vulnerable. Your heart warms at the thought of his trust in you, even in sleep.

You glance around the room from time to time, paranoid that the professional will notice Mike's slumber.

Your eyes meet those of a woman sitting a few rows away. She's watching you with a smile, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Panic flares momentarily.

What if she tells you?

The woman shifts slightly, revealing her own husband, who is slumped in his chair, fast asleep with his mouth open. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, her expression a mix of resignation and amusement. You relax a bit, realizing she's not going to make a scene.

Time drags on. The instructor moves from one tedious topic to the next, covering everything a child needs with the same lackluster enthusiasm. You find yourself stifling yawns leaning toward Mike’s head without applying too much pressure.

You know how much this means to Mike, and by extension, to you. Abby deserves to be with someone who genuinely cares for her, not someone who sees her as a paycheck.

A sudden loud snort startles you, and you realize it came from Mike. You glance around quickly, but it seems no one noticed. You stifle a laugh, shaking your head fondly at him. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and unguarded, only makes you love him more.

Two hours later, the session finally comes to an end. The instructor wraps up with a few half-hearted words of encouragement before dismissing everyone.

You nudge Mike gently, whispering his name. He stirs, blinking groggily as he lifts his head from your shoulder and starts looking around in confusion. "Did I fall asleep?”

You nod, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, but don't worry. I took notes for both of us."

He sighs, a mix of relief and embarrassment on his face. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Mike stretches, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess.

"Ready to go home?" you ask, linking your arm with his.

He nods, a tired but content smile on his face. "Yeah. Let's get out of here."

The drive home is quiet, both of you lost in your thoughts. The fight for Abby's custody is far from over, but moments like these remind you why it's all worth it. You glance over at Mike, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. He's tired, but there's a determination in his eyes that makes you proud to stand by his side.

As you crawl into bed, the exhaustion finally hits you. Mike slides in next to you, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist. You turn to face him, your eyes meeting in the dim light.

"Thank you for today" he says, his voice soft and sincere. "I couldn't do this without you."

You smile, Jeaning in to kiss him. "We're in this together, Mike. For Abby"

“Speaking of which, should we text Vanessa?” You asked him. You had asked her if she could watch over Abby while you were both busy without really giving her a perfect hour of when you will both be free again.

She agreed whole heartily, saying she had no problems at keeping her until night.

���Let’s wait a little longer. I’m sure Abby is having fun with her”

“You’re already tired?” a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The memory of him dozing off, his head resting heavily on your shoulder, played through your mind like a gentle tease.

"Honestly, I can't believe you slept through the whole thing," you chuckled.

"Thanks, you know," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a spark of mischief. "Letting me use your shoulder as a pillow saved me from complete boredom."

You laughed, the sound light and easy. "Anytime. Though, I think I deserve a reward for being such a good pillow."

Mike grinned lazily as he moved closer, his hands resting on either side of your hips. "A reward, huh? I think I can manage that."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that started slow and tender but quickly grew in intensity. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, your breaths mingling in the heated space between you two.

He broke the kiss. His forehead resting against yours as he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a playful glint. "You know," he began, his voice low and intimate, "I really need to tire myself out if I want to sleep tonight."

A knowing smile spread across your face. "Is that so?" you replied, your tone equally suggestive.

Without further preamble, Mike leaned in, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss once again. His hands cradled your face, his touch both tender and insistent. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you ensconced in this moment of intimacy. His kisses deepened, each one more urgent than the last, as if he was trying to erase the dullness of the evening with the intensity of his passion

You responded eagerly, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his breath mingling with your own, created a cocoon of shared desire. Mike's hands began to explore, tracing the contours of your body with a familiarity that still managed to ignite sparks of excitement.

As the kiss broke, Mike's eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. "I think I'm starting to get tired," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.

You laughed softly, a sound of pure contentment. "Then I suppose we should keep going until you're ready to sleep," you teased, pulling him back in for another searing kiss.

He grabbed your thigh and pulled half of you body on the top of his. Your head was laying on his chest alongside your hands.

It would have felt cute and really cuddly if it wasn’t for his leg right between your thighs.

He knew what he was doing.

He pressed harder, making your breath heavier. “hm...Mike..” you breathed heavily.

Air leached outta his nose as he liked what he heard.

His hand slipped down your neck to your lower back. As his hand were giving you chills and making your back arch; his hand slipped inside and grabbed your butt. He squeezed, his grip making his nails dig into your skin, making you flinch.

“Mike please”

“You’re so adorable” Mike whispers as he presses inside.

You let out a mixture between a moan and a laugh, and Mike thinks it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

He sets a slow and steady pace, the two of you staring into each other’s eyes as he slowly rocks them back and forth. You wrapped your arms around his neck while you shared kiss after kiss.

Mike can’t help but to speed up his movements a bit, the feeling too good to resist as he brings you that much closer to the edge.

You wrap your legs tight around Mike as he continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, and you moans, peppering Mike’s face with kisses as you tell him how good he is and how much you love him.

When Mike finally falls over the edge, his face is the picture of pure perfection, and you swear you’re staring at an angel as you fall right behind him, holding Mike close as the two of you try and come down from their intense high. You’re breathing hard, both of you covered in sweat, but your smiles are bright, and you share another kiss and whisper “I love you’s”.

In each other's arms, the promise of a restful night seemed almost secondary to the joy of the present moment.

Together, you'll fight for what's right, and no amount of boring lectures or bureaucratic obstacles can stand in your way.

This is an idea that popped inside of my head when I was about to fall asleep during a boring ‘lesson’ (reading slides) and it gave me the boost to continue till the end. Hope you liked it :)

[whatwouldsylwrite]

At least I got you in my head (5)

(4)

Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.

Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.

Notes: sexual themes (not with Abby), Vi from Arcane is here to make you feel better. You and Abby make decisions that rub the wrong way. Mention of reader having a complicated skin care routine that Abby doesn't understand. Also, the girl in the end is Kara Danvers from supergirl; she is never described/mentioned.

Taglist: @abbyily @lillysbigwilly @gravygranules @blairfox04 @frogtits1 @ccinnamongrl @ninazenuk @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sunkissedbibi @couchgarbage @nil-eena @inlovewithelliewilliams @st4rluvrr @mai5mai @machetegirl109 @azelmawrites (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Yoon Jiwoo was a little scary, but you liked how reserved she was: she didn't ask you for anything, didn't try to get to know you deeply, just polite small talk and a few jokes. Instead of coffee she asked you to come and help her with dinner, and you agreed, fully understanding the implications. 

The implication number one: your chin covered in her slick while she mewled above you and tugged on your hair. 

The implication number two: you sprawled out on her bed, shaking after the second orgasm. 

She was teasing you a lot, which wasn't something you necessarily liked in bed, but it suited her so you rolled with it (not like you had a choice, pinned under her). 

Jiwoo kissed you goodbye and you went home at 1 am on Sunday, feeling a little better.

Like your world wasn't spinning around Abby, like you could start moving on and be happy while living with the best roommate you could wish for. There were other girls, available girls, and you didn't have to suffer. Were you available though? Well, not yet. But eventually your feelings would go away, you were sure of it. 

When you came home you expected Abby to be asleep already - you told her you'd be late - but she was in the living room, playing Doom, frowning in concentration as she eviscerated her enemies. She looked good like this, in her grey sweats and muscle tee, her braid resting on her shoulder. Fuck, why were you like that? You just fucked someone, weren't you supposed to fantasise about Jiwoo right now and not drool over your roommate? Jiwoo had great arms too, and she was hot too, and she was the one to fuck you.

God you really were too deep in it if Abby in muscle tee was more exciting than literal orgasms.

You took a breath to calm yourself down and knocked on the door frame, careful not to scare Abby with your presence. She looked up and paused the game, taking her headphones off. She looked a little tired and you knew she wasn't supposed to be up this late. 

"Hey. Why are you not in bed yet?" You sat next to her on the couch, your knee touching her thigh. 

"Was waiting for you." Abby murmured and rubbed her neck. "I wanted to make sure you'd come home safe."

Fuck you and how caring you are, you thought desperately. Jiwoo also told you to text her when you'd be home, why weren't you thinking of this? Why weren't you texting her right now? 

"Well, I am." You smiled a little. "You should go to sleep, Abby. You'll be grumpy in the morning."

"Yeah. Are you hungry? I made pasta."

"You can't do this to me, seriously." You said dramatically and let Abby guide you to the kitchen.

She heated up the food for you and made herself tea after you gave her shit for wanting to drink coffee at 1am. 

"How was it?" Abby asked politely and you tensed. 

"Great." 

"Just great?" Abby laughed kindly. 

"Yeah, well. Stress relief is stress relief." You chuckled, not really understanding why Abby was curious about your sex life. 

It hurt a little, that while you hooked up with Jiwoo to get Abby out of your system, she was now trying to make small talk about it. 

Abby must've noticed your reluctance, because her teasing grin fell.

"Sorry, I'm so used to Ellie waxing poetry about her hookups so for some reason I expected you to do that too." Abby smiled sheepishly. 

"Oh, don't worry. I just don't kiss and tell, you know. Unless you want a crush course in lesbian sex." You winked, curious if you'd make her shy, and yeah, Abby's cheeks were just slightly pink.

"I mean, Ellie talks so much about girls I feel like I could give you a crush course."

You laughed: bantering with Abby was easy and familiar and you felt a bit better, and not in love at all. Just two gals being pals. 

You were lying in your bed and you couldn't fall asleep as you were going back to this weekend. You felt like the whole hookup with Jiwoo was just some kind of revenge, a knee jerk reaction to Abby breaking your little air castles where you two were in love and happy together. You told Cait you wouldn't use other people to get over Abby, but even though the thing with Jiwoo was mutually beneficial, it didn't make you feel any better. Especially since it only gave you relief that lasted until you came home. 

It was a bad idea to begin with and now you regretted it a little. The sex was great, and you had a lot of fun, but the motivation behind it made you question your choice. You had to deal with your hurt before you tried to weave other people into it. 

It was Monday and you decided it was time for plan B: get distracted by getting another student. Work was good, work meant mind exercises and money. Usually you'd get recommended by your previous students, but sometimes your professors would ask you to help someone out, and today was the day when you got lucky. 

Your professor caught you in the corridor while you were walking to your next class and you got scared at first - did you miss an assignment and were losing your points?

"I gave your number to one of my students, she is smart but she had to miss a lot of classes. She needs to pass the test at the end of November, can you help her?"

"Yeah, of course." You nodded politely.

"Thanks." Your professor patted you on the shoulder and hurried to her next class. God, she was always running like a headless chicken and you adored that chaotic energy in her. She was a very talented teacher, she asked for a lot, but she always gave second chances, so if this girl got her to let her improve her grade, then you'd do your best to help her. 

Also, you thought as you watched the hottest fucking person walk through the doors of the library on Wednesday afternoon, you'd have to do your best and keep it in your pants. 

She was built very similar to Abby, the same defined arms and wide shoulders, and she had tattoos. Her nose was pierced and even the bright pink hair looked organic. 

Even the way she walked was hot - Abby was always commanding, and your new student (she was bee lining to your table) walked confidently, like she didn't fucking care and like she knew she was hot. 

Oh this one wasn't straight. No straight girl had the same energy as her. No, this kind of confidence came from wanting to attract a different kind of attention, the attention straight girls didn't seek and didn't need. 

You sat more straight in your seat as the girl came closer, and for some reason you expected her to be cocky, but she smiled at you and you melted. 

"Hi. You are (y/n)?" You nodded and the girl sat next to you. "I'm Vi."

"Nice to meet you." You said, trying to play it cool. Not only she was hot as fuck, she also seemed sweet? "Prof said you need to pass the test?"

"Yeah. I need at least B on this, and I don't understand a thing." Vi chuckled. "I read at home, but it all sounds fucking insane."

You laughed.

"Which part? I bet it's Kant."

"More like cunt if you ask me." Vi mumbled and you laughed again. 

"Okay. Let's start from the beginning and then Kant will make more sense later on. Are you going to have only western philosophy on your test or do we need to cover everything?"

"I think it's only western." 

You put your professional face on and tried to ignore how hot Vi was as best as you could, but judging by her little knowing smirk she was fully aware of her affect on you - though you didn't really mind. She was hot and sweet and made you feel something else except fucking sadness and desperation. 

Maybe you could get both distractions this time, you thought as Vi smiled at you and looked a little lower than what would be considered friendly. 

This week Abby spent way too invested in talking to Owen. They texted regularly and Abby found herself checking her phone every five minutes. He excited her: Abby liked his attention and his jokes, and it didn't happen often to her. Boys were more annoying than enjoyable, so when she'd meet a guy who was actually cool she tried not to pass the opportunity. 

And now when she was spending so much time on Owen she didn't get her weird panics around you anymore. Abby still enjoyed cuddling with you and talking to you, but now she felt safe to do that, when she had an outlet to deal with her loneliness. She could cuddle you and then go to Owen to get her healthy fix of sex and intimacy. 

Not that Abby planned to, but knowing she had an escape made her feel more confident, as if she separated her affectionate side from her lonely horny side. 

from: (y/n)

r u home?

can you meet me downstairs?

I need help

Abby locked her phone and went to the hallway to put her doc martens and a coat - the third week of October wasn't really warm. She quickly made her way downstairs, a little worried about what you needed help with. 

You were standing in front of the stairs with two big plastic bags and Abby just stared at you.

"You okay?" She asked with doubt. Why did you buy two full bags of groceries? Why did you even go without her when it was her job to do all the heavy lifting in the house? "You should've called me."

"I didn't plan to go grocery shopping, I just wanted to buy the cookies, but I spiralled." You shrugged. "Can you help me carry them?"

Abby took all the bags, not letting you touch them at all even when you protested ("equal labour, come on" "you're hunched in your chair 24/7 you have the back of a grandma, chill"). You made light small talk while you went upstairs, Abby told you about her classes and how annoyed she was with some of them: she liked to bitch about stuff with you because you bitched right back without trying to cheer her up. You just understood Abby's need to vent.

Abby took her shoes off and went to the kitchen so she could start unloading the bags. You were still shuffling in the hallway when she opened the bag and stared into the inside.

"What the fuck?" Abby mumbled as she looked over the whole bag filled with her favourite protein bars. 

By that point you came to the kitchen and had the audacity to look like you didn't understand why Abby was shocked.

"Oh, yeah. They were on sale." 

Abby stared at you. 

"So you bought the whole aisle?"

"You burn through them like they're made of oxygen, come on." You said, embarrassed, and Abby laughed. 

"You're insane." Abby chuckled and came closer, holding your face in her warm hands so she could pepper your face with small kisses.

"Thanks." Kiss. "You're ridiculous." Kiss. "I l-" 

Abby's words got stuck in her throat: she couldn't finish this sentence. She didn't know why, but it felt like she meant something way different from what it was supposed to mean between friends. It didn't seem like you've noticed, so Abby kissed your forehead and moved away, making herself pay attention to your pleased face instead of wallowing in her anxiety. 

"Did you really get the whole aisle?"

"I took every pack they had, yes. It was on sale, pretty good deal if you ask me." 

"Whatever you say mathematician." Abby chuckled and helped you put other groceries in their place. 

She couldn't stop herself from smiling: you cared. You remembered small things about her the same way she remembered small things about you (she made sure to buy you your favourite cookies every time she was shopping), and it was so warming. She felt her heart grow with l- 

Why couldn't she use this word for you? God, she thought she was over her stupid panic. It was okay to love her friends. It was okay. 

Maybe she should hook up with Owen again. 

Vi asked you to come to her place for your fourth lesson - she had training before and she would have been late for the lesson if she had to go to the library from there. You didn't mind so you put your books into your bag and went over to her place. 

Vi told you she lived with her younger sister, and you saw the pictures around the apartment: it seemed like bright hair was a theme here. 

Vi's room was a little bigger than yours, and was surprisingly aesthetic with decor. There were a lot of drawings ("my sister drew them") and her table was kinda cluttered, but she quickly freed some space so you could put your books somewhere. 

Being in Vi's room made you tingle. It was obvious to both of you how attractive you found each other, and you couldn't shake the thought she invited you for a different reason with the amount of tension between the two of you.

You were sitting pretty close, her strong jean-clad thigh pressed against yours, but you tried to not pay attention to it and focus on the lesson. So far Vi's been an excellent student, not shy to ask you the same question as many times as she needed, getting to the bottom of it no matter what. Sometimes you had to change your usual explanation so Vi would understand, and putting your brains to work made you feel good.

"Okay, okay, I've got it. Fucking mental gymnastics." Vi sighed as she wrote her answer on a test sample. "Check."

You read her answer and smiled: it was perfect. 

"Good job." Vi’s eyes lit up.

"I want a reward." Vi said and you chuckled before picking up your pen and writing a good job with a star on her paper. 

"Good enough?" Vi chuckled at this and moved closer to you, putting her elbow on the table to support herself. "Something else?" You were teasing her, you knew, but you were so curious how it’d play out.

"Yeah, I have a better idea." She murmured as she moved her face closer to yours, waiting for you to give her green light. You smiled and moved closer, enjoying her wide eyes and a pleased smirk. 

Vi kissed you and you lost your breath for a moment, shocked by how gentle and tentative she was. She was sweet, god she was sweet. If it wasn't for one stupid straight blonde in your life you could have fallen in love with Vi just from the way she kissed. 

You moved away, feeling guilty: you didn't really know what Vi wanted from you, and she didn't deserve to be fucked over because you were an idiot who was in love with their roommate.

"Hey-hey. Wait a second."

"Did I misread the situation?" Vi asked, worried, searching your face for an answer. 

"No. But I'd like to know what you want from this, so we could be on the same page."

"I just think you're hot."

"Nothing serious?"

"No?" Vi looked like she was scared she'd hurt your feelings with her words, but you only sighed in relief.

"Good. Because I think you're hot too." Vi smirked at this and kissed you again, holding your neck with her palm as she stroked your jaw with her thumb. "Is this why you asked me to come here today?"

"No." Vi laughed as she squeezed your hips and moved you to her lap, pressing you closer. God she was strong. "But now I think past me was a genius."

You chuckled and kissed her again, burying your fingers in her soft hair as she pushed her hands under your shirt. Vi sighed into your mouth and you smiled while your hips started to live their own life, grinding against Vi. You were stupidly turned on by how strong and sweet she was, so careful with how she touched you, as if you were not a one night stand but the love of her life. 

"You're gentle." You commented when Vi carefully placed you on the bed.

"I get that a lot." Vi grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully. "Tell me what you want." 

You smiled at that and tugged her shirt off, staring hungrily at her abs and tattoos. She looked like she could destroy you and put you back together and your stomach burned while your eyes went dark with desire. 

"Fuck me.”

---

“You sure you don’t want to come?” You asked and Abby snapped out of watching you get ready in front of the mirror. Abby came to chill out in your room as you went through your wardrobe to find something that’d work for a Halloween party. 

“I’m not feeling it.” What Abby actually meant: Owen was getting a little too aggressive with his attempts to ask her out and she didn’t want to run into him.

“Well, you know how they say, you just need to come and the mood will come too.”

“No, really, I just want to stay home today. But you have fun, you’ve been working the whole week, you need it.”

You’ve been coming home late the past few days, having more lessons than usual, and Abby felt bad for you. At least you seemed to be in a good mood most of the time, more relaxed and happy than the previous week, and Abby was glad the amount of work wasn’t taking a toll on you.

“Thanks, Abby.” You smiled in the mirror and Abby smiled back. She couldn’t look away from you, a little fascinated by your little rituals with all the skin care products you were using. Sometimes she asked you questions about especially weird things she saw in your hands, but otherwise she stayed quiet and just watched you. 

Abby never really was a girly girl, with no desire to learn how to apply makeup or to wear skirts, and when she was a teenager a lot of people liked to tell her if she didn’t get more feminine she’d never find a boy, because boys liked everything she didn’t. And listen, she tried. She even learned how to use eye liner, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she felt like a clown, and she decided the potential boy in her life wasn’t worth trying to become someone she wasn’t. But even if Abby herself didn’t care about doing girly things, she liked watching other girls do their magic: how Ellie painted her nails black, how Nora did her hair, how you applied god knows how many creams/essences on your face. It was calming to her. 

“So, what are you going for?” Abby nodded at the bunch of clothes on your bed.

“The laziest vampire on earth.” You sighed. “You know, all black, some sunglasses to look like an asshole. We still have cranberry juice, right? I’ll pretend it’s blood.”

“Wow, that’s bad.” Abby laughed.

“Well I can’t come in my usual clothes, that would be even worse. I’ll try to look like the lack of effort was a choice and you know what? I’ll look hot doing it.”

“You definitely will.” Not that Abby understood anything in women’s hotness, but hey. She met girls who made her head turn, so.. Listen, she didn’t know where she was going with this thought. All girls were pretty, okay. It was the universal truth, what was the point of thinking she didn’t know when women were hot, she wasn’t a blind idiot. 

Abby walked you out of the door with a promise you’d call her if anything happens and a kiss on the forehead. 

from: Owen

Are you out tonight?

Fuck, Abby thought. Fuck-fuck-fuck. If she’d say she was home he’d definitely ask to come over, and lying was pointless. Abby stared at her phone once more. But what if she’d want to hook up with him later? Fuck. This shit shouldn’t have been so complicated. 

Well. She could lie in a different way.

to: Owen

sorry, I’ve got a fever so I stayed home

That was so stupid and hardly believable, but Abby didn’t want to deal with Owen right now. Or ever. 

Thankfully he left her on read and Abby sighed in relief before going to the living room to finish the next level in Doom. It took her a few hours after she fell down to death a bunch of times, missing the right moment to jump from one stupid pillar to another. And the boss at the end of the level was pretty hard, so when she finally beat him it was close to 2:30 am. 

Abby tidied the living room and then took a shower, her eyes hurt a little after staring at the screen for so long. She came back to her room and cautiously checked her notifications in fear Owen’d drunk-text her, but instead there was a text from you.

from: (y/n)

Im w a girl 

Abby stilled as she read your text, her heart squeezing in pain that she didn’t understand. Was she jealous? But she just turned Owen down, so it couldn't be right. Abby shook her head as if it’d shake the thoughts out of her head and quickly got ready for bed - she hoped to fall asleep before you’d come home with a girl.

It seemed like the universe hated her that night, because when she felt she was finally falling asleep, relieved she wouldn’t hear you coming home, the front door clicked open. 

Abby shut her eyes and tried not to listen to any sounds: to be fair, she didn’t hear anything until your bedroom’s door was shut. She didn’t want to think about what was happening in your bedroom, but then she heard it. 

You were clearly trying to be quiet, but one of your whimpers was too loud. Abby’s ears rang and her heart started beating faster from anxiety. Despite herself her head got filled with pictures of some random girl touching you. Abby wanted to barf, wanted this girl out of your bedroom, wanted to fucking rip her arms off for making you sound like that. 

Abby took a deep breath and sat on the bed, her ears tuned to your bedroom - it seemed like you noticed your mistake and got quieter, but Abby didn’t need you to make any more sounds to feel absolutely sick, her brain conveniently showing her how you were being fucked right now.

Abby huffed in disgust and stilled suddenly, noticing her emotions. She was disgusted? Fucking hell she was. 

You were having sex next door and Abby was so disgusted and angry she wanted to break something. She felt guilty, because you didn't deserve this, you didn't do anything bad, but Abby couldn't shake her feelings and her unbearable fantasies off.

Abby took another deep breath and grabbed her headphones, determined to force herself into sleep, even if she couldn't breathe properly from her awful feelings.

And Abby would have to be nice in the morning, wouldn't she?

[ellieluvr420]

We meet again, darling pt.3 (detective Abby Anderson x criminal reader)

Synopsis: Abby Anderson is a skilled detective that's never let a criminal escape her grasp, until you. You've infiltrated every part of her life and she still can't get you. As she grows more and more intrigued by you she finds herself descending further into darkness until there's no way back. She takes your hand and follows you as if your presence is the only thing giving her life knowing that you are the most dangerous thing for her. Her life will never be hers again and she will stop at nothing to keep following you down your path of corruption.

It had been a week since your discussion with Abby on that balcony and she had not left your mind for even a second since, especially now you knew she was going into business with you. You had dealt with so many enemies over the years while expanding your empire but something about this partnership felt different. You kept telling yourself it was because she was a detective and that's why you felt all the more victorious, breaching the blue line and all. But at night, after a few too many drinks your mind would wander. You'd let yourself acknowledge the part of your excitement about her partnership that was only to do with her, her long blonde hair that was always up while she was out of the house but would cascade down her back in soft waves whenever she was at home. Those blue eyes that sparkled even when she was looking at you with contempt. Her lips that often spoke vicious words but still entranced you. Your mouth watered when you pictured the way her muscles bulged in the suit she wore a week ago, sometimes your hand would even creep down your body getting lower and closer to where your heartbeat shouldn't be while thinking about her before you stopped and forced yourself to snap out of it.

You had never let yourself acknowledge feelings for anyone, always telling yourself there was no room for relationships in your business, and to an extent you still believe that. You had used many peoples partners over the years to manipulate them and get what you want, and by never having one yourself you had no weaknesses that could be exploited. That's what the rational part of your brain told you but the irrational side was being fired up by the blonde woman and you felt your control over yourself slipping. Your nights had been filled with this torment since Abby's agreement to your plan and it had become all too much. You had to see her again.

Abby had had a good day, her captain called her into his office and she could feel her heart in her throat.

"You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yes, please sit Anderson."

"Is everything okay?"

Her captain huffed and looked at her unamused, she was almost completely certain he had found out about her going to your party and he was about to tell her she's being fired.

"As of today, your probation is over."

"oh...wow thank you so much sir. I promise I won't let you down"

Abby felt a twinge of guilt as she realised she was lying through her teeth but the guilt was completely overpowered by the shock that she was off probation. She felt like she was dreaming.

"Don't thank me. The order came from above my head. No idea why but none of my business I suppose. Don't fuck this up Anderson. You can go."

Although she was disappointed that her captain didn't trust her she also couldn't blame him considering her recent endeavours and she was just ecstatic to be off probation. As she made her way home she couldn't help but wonder what you were doing, she often thought about you before anyway but these thoughts were much less dark and filled with hate now and more with genuine curiosity.

As Abby walked into her apartment she felt a strange chill crawl up her spine and make the hair on the back of her neck stand. She put a hand over her holstered gun and walked through the hall cautiously.

"Abby! You're home, finally! Oh you look hot in your work clothes, didn't think you could top the suit but here you are!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me"

You were sitting at her dining table, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a glass of what she assumed was her wine while smiling devilishly at her.

"How did you get into my apartment?"

As she says this you get up walk over to the fridge retrieving the bottle of wine you had already opened while waiting for her. Without looking at her you also reach into her glass cupboard and grab a second wine glass.

"Will you join me for a drink?"

Abby gets frustrated at your dodging of her question. She rushes up behind you and presses you against the counter, you can feel the contours of her muscles as her front presses into your back and her arm wraps around your neck. Her breath tickles your ear as she whispers "I said, how did you get into my apartment?" she's almost growling as her grip around your neck tightens.

Your voice comes out a little strained from the pressure on your throat as you respond with "please, I could break in here in my sleep, for a detective you have crap security." You giggle but it comes out strained and you grow irritated by the lack of air. You drive your elbow into Abby's side and she grunts and falls backwards clutching her side.

"Now that's done. Would you like a drink?"

You rub your throat slightly and grab the glass waving it at her.

"Of my wine? Sure, I'd love some."

"Perfect. It's depressing drinking on your own" You do an exaggerated frown as you walk past her out of the kitchen and back to the dining table. You hear Abby mutter something about you being infuriating and you smile to yourself as you sit down and fill Abby's glass then topping yours up more. "I hear celebrations are in order?"

"What are you talking about now?" Abby looks unamused.

"Well you're off probation, cause for celebration, don't you think?" As you say this you watch Abby's face drop and you can't help but giggle.

"That was you?" She can't tell if she wants to thank you or kill you. "Why would you do that?"

"Because silly, I need you not being watched like a hawk at work for all of this to work and I guess you could consider it my thank you for agreeing to be a part of this." Abby just stares, unsure of what to say. You focus your attention to the wine and spin it in the glass a little. As you sip the wine, you sigh happily.

"This is delicious, you have good taste, must be why you like me so much" You smirk and laugh to yourself as you catch Abby's unchanged expression of boredom at your antics.

"Why are you here? You know this is not normal behaviour to just break into someone's apartment whenever you please."

"Would you prefer I had invited you to dinner? Wined and dined you first. You sad I didn't ask you on a date before we came back to your place? Sorry darling, I'm a busy woman, this is how I do things."

"First, we did not come back to my place, I came home and you were just here. Second, is this your way of trying to get me into bed?" Abby smirks suggestively and looks smug at her teasing remark.

"ha!" You almost choke on your sip of wine as you realise what she said, you lean over the table, brush a stray hair out of her face and grab her collar pulling her closer to you. "If I wanted you in bed, we wouldn't be sitting at this table fully clothed, we'd be in your bed, naked and you'd be wondering how someone is that good with their tongue, ok?"

"Y-you think?" Abby goes bright red at your suggestive comment and pulls back to create some much needed distance between the two of you. She notices the growing smirk and knowing look in your eyes but chooses to look at her glass and take a big gulp instead of maintaining eye contact.

"Oh I know... But, that is not why I'm here so another day. I assume you’ve heard of the Metorinni cartel?" You watch as she nods her head. "Good, they have been leaching off of my business and my customers for years and I am just about done with their shit. I’m going to take them down, but for me to do that without starting a full blown war, trust me that would not end well for anyone, they’re savages, completely uncivilised, I need your help, I have all the information you need to get your men to take them down, then I can waltz in, kill their boss of course and take all of what’s theirs. What do you get out of this? Well first of all, the glory of bringing down one of the biggest, not the biggest, I’m the biggest, organised crime gangs in the country, the world even and not just that, I will offer you a very healthy cut of what I take from them. Oh and you’d be in my company and that can never be a downside."

Abby rolls her eyes at your arrogance. "So you want me, a detective, to help you, a deadly, ruthless drug lord, take over another gang that is contributing to a large amount of organised crime?"

"Yes exactly! Exciting right?" You smile as you genuinely feel excited at the prospect of taking down your biggest rivals once and for all.

"And there's no way I could ever be connected to you in all of this?"

"For you to be connected to me, your men would have to know of my existence, the only way they would find out about me is if you ever spilled so... are you going to tell?"

"No. I won't, but if you screw me out of the things you've promised me, I'll sell you out so quick, got it?"

"Don't worry darling, I'm a woman of honour. I keep my word and I'm saying that if you keep up your end of the bargain you will have enough money to quit your little job if that's what you please and if you don't... well you won't have to worry, you'll be dead." You sip your wine, keeping heavy eye contact. Abby's face is stony and matches yours. The tension in the room makes you both feel hot.

Abby takes another sip of her wine and nods it at you as she cracks a small smile. Your face breaks into a small grin also and you both chuckle.

"Right well... no pressure then." Abby says through her laughs.

"None at all. I trust your abilities, if I didn't I wouldn't have kept you around."

"Should I be concerned about the amount of times you've threatened my life?"

You laugh as she stares at you with a playful grin. "No darling, you are much too special to me to kill. It would be a waste. Maybe I will take you out to dinner to show my appreciation."

"Oh how kind."

"I know, I am so generous. I best be going. Let you get your beauty sleep." You stand as you finish the last of the wine in your glass and begin putting on your jacket. "When I need you, we'll meet and I'll give you everything you need for your part of the plan," you go to start walking to the front door but you stop just in front of her and put a hand on her shoulder. "But Abigail, not a word of this to a single soul. You understand I'm sure but if anyone ever caught wind of our deal, we'd both be finished. You more than me." You squeeze her shoulder as you say this and once again bend down and kiss her cheek. "I'll see you soon Abby. Dinner next time." You let yourself out the front door without a word and can't help but smile to yourself as you walk away.

Abby stays glued to her chair feeling the same sense of bewilderment she feels after every interaction with you. She's entranced and she can't even deny it anymore, she's so under your spell she's crossed a line that she can never go back from and she doesn't even care. All she can think about is the whirlwind that is you, your small kisses on her cheek, your intoxicating scent. Everything about you has her utterly captivated.

She feels the spot on her cheek where you kissed her, remnants of your lip gloss making it slightly sticky. She gulps down the rest of her wine and runs a hand over her face.

"I am so fucked."

[carionto]

Reckless? Nah - wreckful!

The day has finally come - Abby's Action Asteroids 2.0 is open for business!

Abigail was sitting in her ship, Victor 3.4, and tending to a few scratches she just got from Hector. "No matter how you struggle, ya little bum, mama will always give you belly rubs."

Ships were racing around the track, the obstacles were moving where they should when they should, tons of people were tuning in - everything was going smoothly. Well, except the parts that are supposed to be rough, like the random rockets. Or the surprise one-way holographic asteroids. Or the group of asteroid surfers.

Wait, they're not supposed to be here. Jumping between parts of the race track while ships are speeding through, constant pieces of micro debris flying every which way that, while not significant to a ship, can somewhat easily kill a Human in just their space suit.

They didn't sign the waiver!

So if they get hurt, it's gonna be Abby's fault and she'll have to not only pay their medical and/or funeral bills, the authorities might even shut down her operation! And after going through the bother of visiting the fancy HQ place and submitting whatever papers. All that work, gone, because of some idiots?

That's it, no more Miss Nice Gal, she's gonna round them up personally. Hmm, can't stop the ongoing race though, the participants are already on the final two laps, and this is opening day. If the competition gets cut short for something as small as some jokers barging in and endangering their lives, nobody's gonna care about next time!

No! This debut will go off without a hitch.

So, after some "careful" consideration, she quickly rearranged the engine cluster into a ring-like shape around the back cargo bay entrance and sped off.

As she got close to the first surfers, she hailed them: "Bet 50 Credits you're too chicken to jump in here!" as she set the engines to power up and down rhythmically in a circular pattern around the entrance, which also caused her ship to fly in a somewhat circular way. They ate up the challenge like moths and before she knew it, three of the eight surfers were in her hold.

What she didn't tell them is that there's an EMP field inside, so they can't talk to their buddies still outside about the trap. Over the next two or so minutes, just as the race was entering the final lap, there was only one surfer to go. However, seems they caught on to her little ruse, and were actively running away from her. For nearly three minutes, the little bugger kept dodging and weaving through the track and regularly coming this close to getting bodied by one of the racers.

Just as they felt they had left Abby in the metaphorical dust, a literal dust cloud suddenly surrounded them and they were now floating helplessly in a slightly green-tinged energy field. "I hate using these tractor beams, no sport, no flair, no rocket engines!" Abby muttered to herself in disappointment that she had to resort to an actually safe method of obstacle removal.

After the official race concluded, and Abby paid out the 350 Credits she promised, she announced, with great sadness embedded within the heart and soul of the text, that:

"Any future trespassers who get caught will be held in a gravity field until the final event of the day is over, so just sign the personal safety waiver!"

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Same Trailer, Different Park

(Pilot Episode)

April 14, 2024

Notes - Last night, I went to my first-ever DND game with my oldest nephew, and it was incredible! It's supposed to be every other week, but we're doing it again this upcoming Saturday, and the storyline is giving me so many ideas that I could use for one-shots and stuff! Also, my sciatic pain is going away. It's moved from going all the way from my spine to my right knee to just my right hip, so that's an improvement! Anyway, this was just shy of 50 pages and would have been posted sooner if I had the moodboard and divider transferred to my computer, but I didn't, so here we are lmao! The divider I've used is just temporary until I can sit down and work on one I think suits the vibe, but until then, it is what it is. Also, I hope your finals go well! I believe in you!!

April 14th - the day RMS Titanic struck the iceberg.

Usually, on this day every year, I would be prepping for a Titanic watch party and making sure everyone was ready for it, but that’s just not how it’s going to go this time around. After I get out of school today, it’s officially spring break, and I couldn’t be more excited to finally get away from this endless rain despite the deviation from my annual Titanic anniversary get-together. Riven already offered to give me a ride to school this morning, but since Mom asked me to give Abby and Olly one, and Erica’s piece of shit truck can’t go over puddles without breaking down, he’s giving her and JJ a ride instead. I have to remember to pick up stuff for my battle bot before I leave school, so I’ll tell Abby to remind me - she’s good at that kind of thing. Maybe if I take my notebooks with me on my trip, Mickie and the guys can help me figure out some ideas for what I want to build. Then, I won’t have to come up with something when I get back! Yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do!

Vivien snapped her journal shut and tugged her headphones off before turning them off and tossing them onto her desk alongside her journal. With a sigh, she found her gaze in the mirror that hung on the back of her closet door as she made her way toward it. Despite the hair sticking in every direction, the blanket marks lining the arm she had fallen asleep on, and the wrinkled pajamas she wasn’t quite ready to rid herself of, she looked ready to start her day. Although she highly doubted she would need a cup of coffee that morning as her excitement for the day was propelling her forward like a cup full of espresso shots, Vivien knew she needed to at least look like she was half as ready as she felt.

Her reflection smiled back as she pushed the door of her closet open, but as she pulled the clothes she had set aside the night before down from her hangers, she found herself wondering if she should have put more thought into the outfit she had chosen. Would her typical choice of jeans, a witty graphic tee, and a brightly colored long-sleeve be a good choice in the long run? She would stand out like a sore thumb in the sixties, but nobody at her school would, frankly, give a shit what she wore. Her dad’s signature triple knock on her bedroom door gave Vivien no chance to change her mind as she hollered back that she was almost ready to go. He left after letting her know that he had to leave for an early morning meeting, wishing her a good morning and telling her that he would see her at lunch before leaving to tell the twins the same.

Sighing as she stretched her tired limbs out, Vivien set her cell phone on her dresser, asking Siri to put on one of her playlists as she debated on what to do with her hair. Glancing at the clothes she had yet to pack for her vacation, Vivien cringed as she realized just how much work she’d forced on her after-school self. For once, she was tragically unprepared for a trip. There was a lot she would have to do in the small amount of time between her release from school and Mick’s family picking her up. Pulling her shirt over her head with a huff and freeing her hair from under the collar, Vivien found her phone screen illuminated as a text came in from the girl who had invited her on her family’s trip in the first place.

Mick’s text was simple - a picture of four plane tickets to the John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana, California. Then, as Vivien smiled at her phone, another message came in, asking her if she was ready. A flutter of eager anticipation flew through Vivien’s text as she replied, telling the older brunette how excited she was to finally be able to spend time with the people they both cared about. Once the message had been sent, Vivien found an ABBA song on her playlist, turned the volume back up, and sang softly to herself as she finished getting ready for the day.

After brushing her teeth and taking the time to detangle the hair she had forgotten to ask someone to braid the night before, Vivien gathered her things for school, shoving her overstuffed folder full of homework and project notes into her backpack before grabbing her permission slip for the regional battle bot tournament and shoving it into the back of her bag where it would be kept relatively safe until the end of the school day. Tucking her school laptop into her bag, zipping it shut, and throwing a strap over her shoulder, Vivien scurried out of her room, just barely remembering to turn off the light as Oliver mumbled out a good morning on his way to the stairs. Chuckling as she wished her brother a good morning, Vivien stepped back to allow Abby to parade by with her backpack on one shoulder, a book in her free hand, and her hair pulled back in a migraine-inducing high pony that Vivien was sure she would hear the girl complaining about later in the day.

Following her siblings downstairs as Abby muttered her oral report to herself, Vivien took in a slow breath and hoped her mother had already left for her meeting with some city council board as the smell of slightly charred bacon wafted through the air. Their mother had a habit of making perfect bacon and sausage for herself and everyone else but would sometimes forget Vivien’s and her ex-husband’s in the pan while she took the time to ensure her twins had everything exactly how they liked it. Vivien never bothered to bring up the issue; instead, she gave the charred bacon strips or sausage patties to Riven as he was practically a walking garbage disposal and seemed to enjoy the blackened breakfast meats. Her siblings had tried to bring it up before, and Vivien knew her father had tried as well, but to no avail. The woman wouldn’t argue much with her younger children and always denied anything being wrong, pointing out the fact that Vivien never brought it up herself, but even when Oliver argued that the disgust on Vivien’s face was obvious, nothing changed.

Entering the kitchen, Vivien smirked as Oliver turned back toward Abby and began spouting random historical facts to throw his twin off her train of thought. Abby was quick to fight back, whacking her brother with her book as she told him to shut up and let her focus. Their mother was quick to jump in and tell her only son to leave his sister alone before handing them both their lunch boxes and telling them to get going before they were late. Abby sent Vivien an apologetic look as the eldest of the O’Brian kids took the only remaining lunch box from the counter, and their mother ushered them toward the coat closet. After giving the twins a quick kiss on the forehead and telling Vivien to drive safely, the woman grabbed her jacket and left, heading out to her car and taking off while the kids were still pulling on their spring coats. 

With a sigh, Vivien grabbed her keys from the hook by the door and held the door open for her siblings, but it wasn’t until they were in the pale blue Hyundai Vivien had received from their father after passing her license test that any of them chose to speak up. Oliver huffed as he slid into the back seat, buckling his seatbelt before stretching out across the bench seat and sighing, “I don’t get Mom’s issue.”

“Olly,” Vivien sighed, a soft reprimand that she hoped would keep her brother from ranting the whole way to their school.

“No, Viv,” Abby cut in before Oliver could speak, “we all see she treats you differently, and it isn’t right!”

“It isn’t,” Vivien agreed as she pushed the key into the ignition and started the car, turning the defroster on to keep the windows clear, “but it isn’t worth the effort of trying to change her. Besides, I’ve got you guys and Dad.”

“And Auntie Hayley and Aunt Charlie,” Oliver piped in.

“Exactly,” Vivien nodded, smiling at her younger brother as she backed out of the driveway.

Abby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and slouching in her seat as she complained, “Still. I wish we knew what her problem was.”

“I have a few theories,” Oliver claimed.

Abby grinned, “We know. You’ve shown us your corkboard of conspiracy theories.”

“Yeah,” Vivien snorted, putting the car into drive and taking off down their street. “I swear, introducing you to MatPat and Shane Dawson at a young age was a bad idea.”

“Seriously,” Abby agreed teasingly. “If I have to be subjected to another three-hour rant about the government brainwashing us through Justin Beiber’s music, I just might pitch myself off of the water tower.”

“First of all, that’s not what my theory was about,” Oliver chuckled, “and second, I meant about Mom treating Viv differently.”

Shifting so that she could see both Oliver and Vivien, Abby said, “Well, you’re the conspiracy theorist here. What do you think is the issue?”

Excited to finally have the chance to blather about the ideas he had been bouncing around in his head for a while, Oliver beamed as he began his spiel, “My first thought was that she’s jealous that Vivien has a better relationship with Auntie Hayley and is upset that she’s not Viv’s birth mom, but that wasn’t an issue when we were little, so why would it be now?”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Abby nodded thoughtfully, sparing a glance at Vivien, who nodded as she slowed to a stop at an intersection. Turning back to her twin, Abby pressed, “So, what else you got?”

Oliver sighed, “Sadly, I think the most likely reason is that she’s just pissy because she thinks Viv forced me into the ‘Alphabet Soup Community’ and is scared she’ll do the same to you, Abs.”

Abby’s expression shifted, a disgusted wince tugging her eyebrows together in frustration as she took in her brother’s theory. It made sense, but she didn’t want to admit it. Though Vivien had come out as bisexual years ago, their mother never truly seemed to accept it until Vivien began dating Royce a few months ago. When Oliver came out as gay, the woman had taken the news out on her eldest child, pulling her aside and blaming her for “poisoning her baby brother” with her “disgusting beliefs.” Abby had unintentionally overheard the conversation, listening proudly to her older sister as the brunette fought for her brother to be treated better than she had been. When Abby later told Oliver what she’d heard, the pair found themselves in Vivien’s room, showering their sister with kind words of gratitude and love that the older girl seemed to relish in.

Ready to rant about their mother’s blatant homophobia, Abby scoffed; however, it was Vivien who spoke before her sister could rage for the rest of the drive, “Sadly, that could be right.” Vivien placed a hand on top of the one Abby had placed on the center console, gently squeezing her hand as she continued, “Even though I hope that’s not the case, it could very well be. She’s always been a little… uptight about that sort of thing.”

“A little?” Oliver chortled, finding Vivien’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. “That’s the understatement of the year.”

Abby laughed, “You couldn’t pull a needle out of her ass with a tractor!”

“Abby!” Vivien reprimanded despite her laughing at the girl’s choice of words.

“It’s the truth!” Abby argued. “I’m sure she would’ve sent you guys to conversion therapy or something if Dad hadn’t said something.”

Vivien sighed as she turned onto School Street, “Still. She’s our mom, and until we move out, we have no choice but to put up with her bullshit.”

Oliver shifted in his seat, ready to crack a joke in order to lighten the situation, but Abby huffed, “I just don’t get why your sexualities matter so much to her. It’s not like it has anything to do with her in the first place.”

“Maybe she-”

“And why should she care if I’m straight or not?” Abby continued, cutting off Vivien’s statement with a scoff. “Is she just going to drop all of us if I someday decide to come out of the closet?”

Once he was sure his twin was done ranting, Oliver shrugged, “Maybe. Like Auntie Hayley said, Mom can’t stand that we aren’t her little dolls who do whatever she says now. I wouldn’t put it past her if she chooses to up and leave if this becomes a three-for-three situation.”

Taking in the wounded expression on her baby sister’s face as she pulled into an empty parking spot, Vivien smiled reassuringly and said, “I doubt you have much of anything to worry about anyway. Even if you came out as bi like I did, you and Malachi have been dating for, what, almost a year now?” When Abby nodded wordlessly, Vivien continued, “Well, Mom only chilled out when she found out I was dating Royce. Since you’re dating a boy already, I doubt there would be a problem.”

“Besides,” Oliver began as he pushed open his door and picked up his bag from the floor, “you’re straight - you have nothing to worry about.”

Plastering a smile on her face as she tugged her bag up from the floor, Abby nodded, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Patting Abby’s hand with a grin, Vivien opened her door and stepped outside, grabbing her backpack from the backseat and locking the car once the doors were closed. Once her keys were safely tucked into the front pocket of her backpack, Vivien followed her siblings to the front door of the school. Before she could step inside, however, a honk from a nearby car made  Vivien jump, whirling around to see Riven’s red Miata pulling to a stop by the sidewalk. Telling her siblings she would see them later, Vivien headed over to the car as the passenger’s side door opened, and a head of emerald hair stepped out before pushing the seat forward.

“Hey, Viv,” Jade greeted with a smile as she tightened her ponytail.

As Erica tumbled out of the backseat, the seatbelt wrapped around the ankle of her Doc Martens, she peered up at the brunette and beamed, “Oh, good! I was hoping to catch you before first period.” 

“Mission accomplished,” Vivien chuckled as Erica hobbled her way away from the car. As the car door closed and the window rolled down, she leaned over and teased, “That’s the only car full of ladies you’ll ever have, isn’t it?”

Riven sent his best friend a grin and gestured to his fellow bandmates as he spoke, “Blues Clues over there can hardly be considered a lady, and considering JJ is the only cheerleader who has ever given me the time of day, probably.”

Chuckling, Vivien rolled her eyes and said, “You’re an idiot.”

“Love you too.”

Before Vivien could return the sentiment, Erica placed a hand on her shoulder and said, “Alright, dipshits, let’s go before the bell rings and we get told off.”

Jade chuckled as she tossed her Chapstick into her bag, “By who; Viv’s dad?”

Vivien snorted at the thought of her dad reprimanding them, but Erica beat her to the punch as she turned toward her girlfriend and said, “I was thinking Coach Boogeyman.”

Leaning over the passenger seat, Riven wondered, “I thought Bogman was forced to leave after the color guard claimed she was spying on them in the showers.”

“She was supposed to,” Jade huffed, “but until they find enough evidence to take her to court, she has to finish out the year.”

“Sadly,” a voice sighed from behind the group. Turning toward the voice, Vivien smiled as her father spoke, “Until we have her on camera, there’s nothing we can do. Besides, she’s been pushing off retirement for years. With this accusation, we should be able to finalize everything at the end of the year.”

“Good,” Erica snipped as Vivien stepped around her. “She’s always given me the creeps.”

“Understandably so,” Damien chuckled softly, smiling as his daughter slotted herself under his arm. “Hey, babygirl.”

“Hey, Dad,” Vivien beamed. “Did you come to walk us to class?”

Damien shook his head, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder as he replied, “Not quite. I saw you four chatting and figured I would try to get you inside before anyone else came out and started yelling.” Leaning forward enough to see Riven, he asked, “Are you joining us, Riven, or are you just going to do virtual lessons today?”

“No, I’ll be in,” Riven quickly replied, glancing toward the parking lot with his signature grin. “Just have to find a place to park.”

“Make it quick, bud,” the man stated as he glanced at his smartwatch. “The bell rings in ten minutes.”

Riven nodded, checking to make sure his path was clear before pulling away from the curb, his Miata drifting toward the parking lot as Damien began leading his daughter and her friends inside. After handing her lunchbox off to her dad so he could put it into the staff fridge until lunch, Vivien waited until Riven came running up to the front door before stepping inside behind him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her toward the stairwell across from the main office, waving goodbye to their friends and her father as they propelled up the stairs. Riven dragged her up to the next floor, where their lockers resided, before letting her go as he began twisting in his locker combination. Meanwhile, Vivien pulled her keys from her backpack, slipped a purple-painted one into her lock, and freed it, popping open the metal door with a sigh and placing her bag on the hook inside.

“You know,” Riven began, “it’s days like today that I wish my birthday wasn’t after the school cutoff.”

“Rough morning?” Vivien asked with a grin.

Riven scoffed as he tugged his social studies workbook down from the shelf he had shoved it onto the day before, “I slept through my alarm, and Dad was already at work, so he couldn’t help. Then, I woke up to Erica screeching about needing a ride, only to have my phone die mid-call. And, to top it all off, I’m about eighty-three percent sure these sweatpants are yours from the weekend.”

Vivien’s eyebrow lifted, but as she glanced down at the navy blue sweatpants Riven donned,  her eyes widened. Sure enough, the stars and planets she had embroidered around the pockets and hemline of her sweatpants now stood as a glaring reminder of the clothes she had tossed into the wash at Riven’s house. They had been cooking stuffed shells, and she had dropped the jar of sauce, splattering chunky, red tomato sauce all over the floor and their legs. After putting the food in the oven, they got a majority of the stains out in the sink but threw their clothes into the laundry afterward to get rid of the smell. She had forgotten the pants in her rush to get out the door on Monday morning, having told Riven she would take them back when she went back to his house after spring break was over. Holding back her bark of laughter, Vivien grinned at the thought of Riven rushing around his room that morning, throwing on whatever he could find before leaving the house and somehow missing the colorful threads lining his legs.

“Yeah,” Riven breathed, rolling his eyes at Vivien’s not-so-discrete snort of laughter. “Erica thought it was hilarious.”

“It kind of is,” Vivien giggled softly. At Riven’s dismayed sigh, her grin faltered, and she glanced down at her pants as she offered, “Do you want to trade? I’m pretty sure I stole these from you over the summer.”

Riven spared a glance at the jeans Vivien had worn and grinned; the cuffs were rolled up toward her ankles to prevent them from being stepped on, and she had to wear a belt just to keep the waistband in place, something Riven had no issue with in the slightest. With a snort, he shook his head, “I think I’m good, Pip. You made these and, despite them being on the shorter side, I’m only here until lunch. I can run home and change before work after I’m done eating. Besides, they wouldn’t match your outfit.”

Vivien’s eyebrow lifted into her bangs as she asked, “Since when do you care if clothes match?”

“I don’t,” Riven shrugged as he closed his locker, “but I know you do. Now, come on, it’s almost time for the bell.”

Scrambling to grab her books for the next two classes so she wouldn’t have to run to her locker between bells, Vivien slammed her locker shut and walked alongside Riven until he reached his class. They wouldn’t see each other again until she was allowed to head to the cafeteria for lunch, but their mornings in the halls were something she had cherished for a while. Joining a few of her classmates on their way to their first period of the day, Vivien caught a glimpse of the oversized clock on the wall and sighed. She had four periods until lunch, and only two were on the same floor, but she had planned to use her study hall block to join her friend Emily in the drama wing of the main floor. 

Emily - or Emmy, as she was often called by her relatively small friend group - had been begging her for the last two weeks to join her for the auditions in some musical the school was putting on. Originally, Vivien had no desire to audition as she hated the thought of having so many eyes on her, but when Emily pointed out that the auditorium was in close proximity to the cafeteria, she relented. If it meant she didn’t have to run from her study hall on the top floor all the way down to the main floor to eat, she was in.

Her first block was spent listening to Mrs. Adams - the only social studies teacher who actually seemed to enjoy teaching - ask everyone what their plans were for spring break. She loved to make the class hard as most of her students were either on the honor roll or enrolled in advanced placement classes, but Fridays were the one day a week when everyone got some reprieve from her constant stream of tests, exams, and droning lessons. By the time the bell rang, everyone had broken off into groups, writing out their plans for the week as their teacher sat at her desk with a smile, grading the last few papers on her computer. Vivien had made up a story on the fly, writing out her plans for the trip to California she told everyone she was going on, but as the bell rang, she closed her notebook and shoved it into her desk before grabbing her book for the next class and following her friend, Carter, down the hall toward the French class she had signed up for at the start of the semester.

Although she struggled a lot with the language - finding her old Spanish and German classes easier than French - the teacher commended her many times for at least trying. She wanted nothing more than to learn the language her boyfriend’s family knew, intending to surprise them on her trip. However, she knew her attempts were fairly futile. French just wasn’t her strong suit. Grateful her grade for the class wasn’t going to affect her final grades for the year, Vivien slumped into her chair in the middle of the room and hoped the class would go by faster than it usually did so that she could escape to the auditorium.

Thankfully, it seemed as though the teachers were of the same mindset as the students - eager to escape the concrete and stucco walls and leave for vacation. After answering a one-sided paper of questions in French about how their week had been, the teacher let them wander the halls, allowing Vivien to dump her books in her locker before making her way down to the auditorium. The auditorium was hardly ever used unless they had a guest speaker or a show being rehearsed, but the doors were almost always left unlocked, making it easy for Vivien to slip inside and make her way to the front row of chairs.

The auditorium would be empty for a while before the audition time came, but as Vivien had all the time in the world until her friend showed up, she didn’t mind the silence. Opening the notes app on her phone, she began typing out all of the things she would need to pack when she got home. Her list was already relatively short as she had put her essentials into her suitcase after using them that morning before school - her toiletries taking up the small pouch in the front of her luggage to leave room for the clothes she was still up in the air about. Although she knew that clothes weren’t really necessary as Mick had told her many times that she would be able to borrow period-typical clothes from them upon her arrival, she still needed to shove some summery clothing into her suitcase to make it seem as though her time had truly been spent in the California sun. 

With a sigh, Vivien realized she also needed to leave room for the souvenirs she would be bringing back and any potential shopping she did in either world. By the time she had whittled down her list to just necessities, her journal, and some extra changes of, well, every article of clothing she owned, people had begun to fill the auditorium, ascending the stage and beginning vocal warm-ups that would have impressed Sharpay Evans. Vivien tucked her earbuds in as the noise in the room began to grow, only pulling them out when Emily appeared in the seat next to her, excitedly tugging Vivien out of her shell and onto the stage with her as she rambled about the show they were going to be performing for the end of the school year.

Checking her blood pressure on her watch, Vivien sighed as the drama teachers, Mrs. Kaisla and Mr. Doyle, began telling everyone where to stand before giving them the run-down of the show. “As you all know by the posters in the halls,” Mr. Doyle began, “this year’s final show will be Hairspray.”

“I really want to play Tracy or Penny,” Emily squealed in a whisper mere inches from Vivien’s ear. Grabbing Vivien’s shirt in a fist, she added, “Imagine if Colby gets picked for Link or Seaweed - it would be perfect!”

Chuckling at the girl’s obvious crush on the dark-skinned football player who had been in their friend circles since kindergarten, Vivien whispered back, “I admire your enthusiasm, but is he the only reason you’re auditioning? I mean, you hate being the center of attention as much as I do being on stage; why would you wish for the lead?”

Emily’s sparkling smile faltered as Vivien’s words sunk in but quickly reappeared as the teachers wrapped up their short spiel about the show, “That’s why you’re here.”

“To make sure you don’t look like the worst performer here?” Vivien questioned teasingly.

Emily scoffed, elbowing Vivien in the arm, “Shut up. You’re not that bad.”

“Says you,” Vivien replied as Mrs. Kaisla began ushering some students toward center stage. As soon as she was sure neither she nor Emily were part of the group selected, she added, “There’s a reason I only ever sing in the car or the shower.”

With a sigh, Emily nudged her friend closer to the front of the stage and said, “And there’s a reason I asked you to come with me instead of literally anybody else. You have a beautiful voice. Besides, I need someone here who makes it easier to be in the spotlight. Now, shush!”

Vivien rolled her eyes but smiled as Emily hushed her, urging her to watch the others as they were instructed on what to do. Minutes flew by as the group took turns singing popular songs played over a bluetooth speaker one of the boys had brought to the school. Before she knew it, Vivien felt her stomach clench anxiously as her name was called, and Emily practically dragged her to the center of the stage. Taking a deep breath as the others took turns singing, Vivien tried to think of a song - any song - she could sing at least fairly well, but any titles she knew seemed to flee her brain as her mouth dried up as she resorted to biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from fidgeting under the blazing lights.

As Emily’s choice - an 80s hit that had made an appearance in the last season of Stranger Things - began to play, Vivien realized just how doomed she was, and her mind flickered to the cell phone in her back pocket. Surely, her Spotify would have something she could work with, right? However, to her chagrin, as soon as the device was free of its jean prison, Vivien found the music had stopped playing, and she was forced to choose a song without any assistance. Had she really taken that long to decide? Clearing her throat, Vivien smiled tersely as she gave up the only song that had found its way to the front of her brain in time - ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me. 

The teachers she hardly knew seemed to smile as they talked amongst themselves, and although a part of her was sure they were talking about how easy the song was to mess up, Emily’s encouraging smile from the side of the stage somewhat assured her that all was fine. Closing her eyes as the music began playing, Vivien attempted to force her fears down as she sucked in a deep breath. All she had to do was get through a section of the song, and she would be free to leave as everyone else was. Pretending she was just singing in the car with Riven, Vivien allowed her voice to carry over the music, her enjoyment of the song obvious as she began to sway to the beat, the lyrics flowing out of her like water.

Once the chorus had left her, the music began to fade, allowing the teachers to be heard as they scribbled something on their clipboards. Looking up at her, Mrs. Kaisla smiled and said, “Thank you, Vivien. You’re free to go.”

“Remember to check the cast list when we come back to school,” Mr. Doyle added before gesturing toward the side of the stage, where Emily received her with a hug and a squeal.

The two made their exit relatively quickly, Vivien practically pushing Emily through the double doors so that she could find a source of oxygen in the halls. Once the auditorium doors had closed with a click, Vivien sighed, checking her blood pressure as a wave of anxiety-fueled dizziness washed over her. After making up a quick excuse as to where she was going, Vivien told Emily she would see her after lunch before making her way to her locker, where she kept her water bottle. Sitting on the floor by her locker, Vivien sipped at her water until the bell rang, forcing herself to calm down as she scrolled through Pinterest.

Before long, Jade and Riven appeared, having left the same class Vivien would have to attend after lunch - World History. They hauled her off of the floor, and Riven tossed his books into his locker before draping an arm around Vivien's shoulders and guiding her toward the stairs while Jade rattled off about the teacher - Mr. Smith - being the most boring teacher in the school. After retrieving Vivien's lunch from her father, she joined her friends at their usual table by the windows on the far wall of the cafeteria, spending their lunch block playing a segment of their Dungeons and Dragons campaign on their phones while eating. 

After a while of playing and eating, the bell rang, and they cleaned up their table before tossing Vivien's now empty lunch box into Erica's locker near the gym before saying goodbye to Riven and splitting off to their respective classes. For Vivien, the rest of her classes went by without a hitch, time flying by the way she had hoped all morning that it would. Once her final class of the day ended, Vivien sent a quick text to the group chat she and her siblings had created, telling them that she had to drop off her form for the battle bot tournament and would meet them at the car. Making her way from the top floor to her locker, Vivien gathered her belongings, shoving her water bottle and a small bag of Cheetos her Trigonometry teacher had given her into her backpack before slinging her backpack onto her shoulders.

Once she was back on the main floor, Vivien scurried across the hall, rounded the entrance to the office, and took the stairwell across from the vending machines down to the school's basement. As she descended the stairs, dampness and mildew filled her nostrils, making her nose wrinkle in disgust as she pushed the door to the bottom floor open. Hardly anyone visited the basement unless they had to, as there was little to see, but there were a select few who found comfort in the almost eerie silence and smell the basement offered. While the basement wasn't overly dark or dreary, it never quite felt warm enough to give off the same welcoming feeling the upper parts of the school gave. 

Perhaps it was the piercing white light of the fluorescents or the steady beeping from the computer lab that sounded almost exactly like a hospital heart monitor that kept people away, but regardless, there were only a handful of students who enjoyed the ominous, cold, almost abandoned feeling the basement radiated. Vivien was one of those odd students. After years of exploring abandoned buildings with Riven for his photography blog and her Instagram, the smell and cold environment of the school's basement did little to drive her away. If anything, it was almost calming.

There weren't many reasons for most students to visit the basement, as there were only three labs and two committees that met there. The chemistry, robotics, and computer laboratories were in a triangle-like formation at the very end of the hall, while the photography and student politics groups met at the other end of the hall, their rooms across from each other and sharing a single wall that was thin enough to hear conversations happening in the other room. Vivien hummed to herself as she stepped around an old projector that had been wheeled into the hallway, grinning fondly at the memory of having to haul the old machine up the stairs to the top floor for one of the summer school teachers while helping her dad out in the office. Stepping into the Bermuda Triangle of classrooms at the end of the hall, Vivien scanned the names beside the doors before making her way toward the left-most room.

The door to the robotics lab had been kept open with a hunk of metal the teacher, Mr. Kevin Hill, had welded in his free time one summer. Mr. Hill was one of Vivien's favorite teachers of all time. Mr. Hill was a short Irishman with a fondness for taking things apart and rebuilding them, something Vivien could appreciate. There were a few other students in the room - Vivien's bandmate, Erica; Damon Perry, a vitiligo-skinned freshman who hardly spoke around upperclassmen unless he was spoken to first; and Preston Osborne, a senior who thought his shit didn't stink because he had more money than he knew what to do with. 

Unlike the rest of the handful of rich kids at their school, Vivien had known Preston by extension for years. He had been something of a nightmare for the school system, using his daddy's reputation as a hotshot lawyer in the city to be a dick to anyone who dared push back against whatever he wanted. According to Erica and Jade, Preston wasn't horrible until middle school, when the older kids began picking on him. One threat of a lawsuit later, Preston officially became known as someone nobody wanted to trifle with. Over the years, Vivien had heard her father complain about the boy and had heard horror stories from teachers who'd had him, but Vivien hadn't known him personally until she became the youngest person from their school ever to win the regional battle bot championship. 

In her first year fighting back in seventh grade, she had beaten Preston by a long shot, her little, ladybug-shaped robot tearing Preston's robot apart with its electrified saws. Preston, of course, seemed incapable of taking the news well, having argued with the competition's judges until he was forced to either accept defeat or be disqualified. Ever since that day, Vivien found herself with an upperclassman who thought of her as nothing more than his arch-nemesis. Though she found him obnoxious after a while, Vivien hardly played into his made-up game of tug-of-war unless provoked, something that seemed to piss Preston off more instead of making him see how ridiculous he was being.

Rolling her eyes at the imbecile's glare, Vivien signed her name on the clipboard on the teacher's desk, taking a glance at the competition as she allowed her backpack to slide down from her shoulders. The robotics teacher was supposed to supervise from his desk as Erica, Preston, and Damon scoured the materials the teacher had laid out for them to take, but Damon had somehow managed to ask a question that kept the old Irishman talking while Erica and Preston searched the scrap bins the teacher had left out for them to rifle through. The bins would be there until the day of the competition, giving Vivien plenty of time to come up with a model and a mock-up before she started digging through the bins of scrap metal that, hopefully, wouldn't be sending anyone to the hospital for a tetanus shot that year.

As Mr. Hill stepped away from his conversation with Damon, he found Vivien standing by his desk as she dug through her backpack for the paper she swore she had left in the front of the biggest pouch. "Ah," the teacher began, "Miss O'Brian. I was wondering when you would show." 

Vivien peered over at the teacher and smiled before resuming her search, "Well, better late than never, right, Mr. H?" 

The graying man smiled with a short nod as he sat in his chair once again, "So far, I have only received a couple of sign-ups, so your competition from our school is looking rather small. Do you have an idea for what your battle bot will look like this year?" 

"You know I can't tell you, even if I do," Vivien stated as she tugged her permission slip out and handed it to the teacher. As Mr. Hill glanced over the paper with mild interest, Vivien stepped away from his desk and looked over some of the objects the teacher had prepared. She picked up a few metal pieces she could use for either a weapon or a protective shield and placed them in a plastic Walmart bag that Mr. Hill had left out for the students to use. "Besides, I wouldn't dare divulge my secrets to my enemies," Vivien claimed theatrically as she glanced around at the other students in the room. 

Erica leaned forward just enough to stick her tongue out at Vivien, placing a couple of springs in a plastic bag the teacher had given her. Damon simply smiled but kept quiet as he signed out a workshop tool that he'd need to return in the next two weeks. Vivien returned his smile and chuckled; in the few years she had known him, Damon had always seemed to be a very quiet, reserved person, but he seemed to come a little bit out of his shell when it came time for battles such as this one. However, as opposed to his silent competitors, Preston Osborne scoffed at Vivien and rolled his eyes as he turned toward the brunette. 

He used the wrench he was holding to point at Vivien, watching her with scrutiny as he spoke, "After last year's height requirement debacle, I doubt anybody would take your advice." 

"What?" Vivien began sarcastically, her voice taking on an infantilizing tone. "Are you still upset that mine was bigger than yours?" Ignoring the snorted bark of shocked laughter from her blue-haired friend, the brunette, never one to back down from a fight with the arrogant male, moved so she could look Preston as straight in the eye as her shorter stature would allow. "At least you could see mine in the ring. Everyone needed a pair of binoculars to see yours; it was so small." 

Preston stared down his nose at Vivien before chuckling condescendingly, "At least mine didn't need a judge to do a height check last minute." 

"Yeah, and? Who won that battle again?" Vivien asked rhetorically. Gasping dramatically, she placed a hand over her chest and answered her own question, "Oh, right! Me." 

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Preston retorted with an arrogant scoff. Then, his voice lowered as he hissed, "My dad could sue the shit out of your family. I'd run you and your whole family out of town."

"I don't know who told you that, dipshit," Vivien laughed, "but your daddy's got no power here and neither do you. In fact, I bet your 'big city lawyer' father would love to hear all about how often you try to threaten people in this school. Threatening bodily harm is a potentially jailable offense, you know. I can see the headlines now!"

Vivien pretended to gag as Preston leaned closer, his breath polluting her face as he snarled, "That big mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble if you don't shut it."

"If you think my mouth is big, I feel bad for your girlfriend." Vivien paused, gave a mock gasp, then added, "Oh, wait, you don't have one. Do you, shrimp dick?"

"Look, you little bitch, I-"

"Mister Osborne, Miss O'Brian," Mr. Hill interrupted, rising from his seat before the argument could get any worse. "I believe this argument will get you nowhere. Mr. Osborne, as you have already gathered your things, I suggest you sign out any tools you may need and leave before this ends up as another after-school detention for you. Miss O'Brian, please continue looking around for any particular parts you may need." 

Vivien nodded and waited for Preston to back down and storm off before she resumed her perusing, allowing the teacher to handle Preston as he approached the desk. Mr. Hill was one of the teachers who always formed his own opinions of the children who came into his class, regardless of their notoriety. The man didn't care about who the kids' parents were; he would treat him the same way he would treat any student. Vivien knew from Riven's occasional photography classes at the community college that Mr. Hill had taken opportunities to float around the different universities in the area, teaching robotics and photography when he wished; if he got fired from this school for not babying Preston or some other Karen's spawn, it probably wouldn't be a hard blow. Maybe that was why Vivien, Erica, and most of the other students who didn't like Preston liked Mr. Hill so much. 

Soon, but not soon enough, Preston left and took his bags with him, and Erica flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway. Turning toward the grinning Vivien, she beamed, "Bitch, you handled him so much better than I would have." 

Vivien smiled as she tossed a handful of small springs into her wagon. "Thanks. I just- I can't stand him."

"Who can other than his parents?" Erica scoffed, "His head's so far up his own ass, I'm surprised he can walk straight."

"I have to agree with you," Mr. Hill piped in as he sat back in his seat. "Although Preston makes fair marks as far as I am aware, he rides on his father's reputation to keep himself above everyone else. Though, as a teacher, I must advise you change your approach, a couple of wounds to his pride will, hopefully, do him well over time." 

"I doubt he'll change," Vivien said, shaking her head, as she examined a small shell-shaped piece that could be used as a cover for her robot. 

The teacher returned to the book he had been reading, and Erica nodded in agreement before taking a battery holder and putting it inside her bag. She looked at Vivien's bag and shook her head at how much the younger girl had already stored away. "Well, I'm looking forward to being annihilated by you again this year, as always." 

Vivien knew the other girl was only joking, as Erica had told her before that she only entered the battles for fun and found it interesting to see how far she could get. With a smile, Vivien chirped, "And I look forward to annihilating you, as always." 

Erica laughed, giving Vivien a quick hug before leaving, claiming she and Jade were getting a ride to work from one of the girls on the cheer team who worked at the mall with them. Once her friend was gone, Vivien went back to picking out parts for her robot, picking out items she thought could be of use and tucking them into the bag that had begun to weigh her arm down. The brunette spent another handful of minutes in the classroom before deciding she had enough things. As she placed her heavy bag inside another, she tied the handles in a knot and said, "Well, Mr. Hill, I believe I'll be on my way." 

"Actually, Miss O'Brian, I have to go over the rules for the battles before you leave," the teacher claimed, tucking a bookmark into the novel he was reading before pulling a paper from his desk drawer. "Normally, I would wait until I have you in class, but since we won't be back in school until after spring break, now is as good a time as any." 

Vivien accepted the paper from the teacher, reading over the first couple of rules before nodding to herself. "Did they change them or something?" 

"Not exactly." Mr. Hill stood and made his way around the desk, sitting on the other side of the surface as he pointed out some of the notes at the bottom of the page. "The officials are new this year. They've agreed to keep the three-foot height acceptance, but they've eliminated the use of robotic arms that can be used to puncture another robot from the maximum height - as you can see here." 

"Let me guess, that rule was made because of my robot from last year?" Vivien pondered. 

"That would be my guess as well," the teacher agreed with a grin. "While that robot of yours was quite impressive, you have to keep it short if that's your plan this year." 

Vivien shook her head, knowing that wasn't her idea at all. She liked to change things up every year, never showcasing the same attack twice. Thinking for a moment, Vivien scanned over the jumbled nonsense on the page that she would probably hand off to Mick the moment she saw her and asked, "Are saws and shields still allowed?" 

"Yes, of course," Mr Hill said, nodding insistently. "It would be very hard to take that ruling out. Just remember that you need to have your robot done by the first of June. The following week, the judges will go through the ruling process. Any final adjustments will have to be made before the end of the school day on Friday, the ninth. The first day of battles will be Saturday, and Sunday will be finals and awards, as per usual." 

Vivien allowed herself a brief moment to process the information before nodding, a smile lighting her face as she spoke, "That sounds good to me." Picking up her backpack from the floor, Vivien folded and tucked the paper into the pocket of her jeans and headed out of the classroom. It wasn't until she was near the stairwell that she heard her name being called again. Turning toward the voice, she found Mr. Hill standing in the doorway of his classroom. "Yeah?" she called in return. 

"Just something I meant to tell you before you left." The teacher held his book up a little, a gesture that made Vivien believe he was going to quote something from it, yet, without looking down, he began speaking once more. "Those who are willing to work hard - day in and day out - to achieve their goals are the true winners, regardless of the scores or the judges' opinions. I don't doubt that you are one of those hard-working people, Vivien; you know what you're doing. Your skills never cease to amaze me, and I hope you prove me right again this year." 

With a raised brow, Vivien asked, "Prove you right, sir?"

"I've been an AP Robotics teacher here for twenty-three years," Mr Hill said. "It's not often that I have someone in my class throughout junior and senior high school. Other teachers said I  should have booted you down to the regular class with Miss Denis, but since the day you first walked into my class, I knew you had potential. Since then, you've proved them wrong every step of the way. I commend you for that."

Vivien stood in place for a moment, stunned at her teacher's kind words. "Thanks, Mr Hill. I won't let you down." 

"I know you won't, Miss O'Brian. You never do. Have a nice evening," he replied before turning back to his book and stepping back over to his desk, leaving Vivien standing alone in the hallway. 

Vivien stared at the spot Mr. Hill had previously occupied, letting out an airy laugh as a brilliant smile found its way onto her face. Taking in a deep breath, she straightened her posture and turned toward the stairs, propelling herself up them with newfound confidence. Her bag of assorted metal bits jangled, clanking together in a symphony of scrapes and tings as she ascended the stairs. Once she had reached the main floor, Vivien retrieved her lunch box from Erica's locker. The girl's four-digit code - 8104, Erica's birthdate and year combined - was one of the many Vivien kept in her notes app in case her friends ever forgot them, and even though she was sure Erica couldn't possibly forget her locker combination, Vivien enjoyed knowing that, if her friends needed her to, she could help them.

After tugging the lunch box out from the chaos that was Erica's locker, Vivien rushed to the office, saying a quick goodbye to her dad before heading to the main entrance, pushing open the first set of doors before lifting the hood of her jacket over her head and hoping her siblings had gotten the spare key to her car from their father as rain poured from above. Shoving open the door to the outside world, Vivien watched as rain slammed down in sheets, taking a deep breath before bolting into the freezing rain, letting out a shrill screech as she scurried across the parking lot to her car. She threw the door open and jumped inside, grateful her siblings had already started the car's heater, as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Abby smirked at her sister's reflection in the rear-view mirror as Vivien shivered in her seat, and with a snort, she asked, "Bit chilly, sissy?"

Turning back toward her little sister, Vivien nodded and sighed, "You could say that." Hauling her backpack and Walmart bag of metal parts over the gap between her seat and Oliver's, Vivien asked, "Can you hold onto these for me, Abs?"

Peering back as Abby placed Vivien's belongings on the seat next to her, Oliver asked, "You're doing the championship again this year?"

"When doesn't she, Olly?" Abby asked rhetorically as Vivien backed out of her parking spot. "She fights every year, and every year, she wins."

"I know that; I'm not stupid," Oliver retorted.

"Debatable," Abby shrugged.

Ignoring his twin, Oliver said, "I just thought that, since she was going on vacation, she wouldn't be participating this year."

"I'll have plenty of time," Vivien claimed, putting the car into drive and steering it toward the parking lot's exit. "Besides, I'll be with Mickie for a whole week. If my battle bot isn't at least halfway done by the time I get back, then one of us either got sick, somehow got pregnant, or died."

Oliver let out a snort, "I mean, fair enough, but aren't you going to do anything fun while you're in California?"

"Building things is fun," Vivien retorted, flicking on her turn signal and glancing both ways before pulling out of the parking lot, "but yeah, we're going to the beach, checking out some museums, and we might visit Disneyland if  we have the time."

Leaning forward between the front seats, Abby asked, "How is it possible that Oliver and I might have a more entertaining spring break than you?"

Sparing a glance at her siblings, Vivien asked, "What do you mean?"

With a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, Oliver announced, "I'm going with Markus' family to New Jersey so we can check out that American Dream place with the indoor water park and ski slope."

"Really?" Vivien asked. Muttering more to herself than anything, she added, "I'm surprised Mom allowed that after you broke your ankle the last time you went on a trip with them."

Abby hummed in agreement before speaking, "And I'm going with Brynna's family to Great Wolf Lodge for her birthday."

"Those sound fun and all," Vivien admitted, "but how is that more fun than literally going across the country?"

"Because you're going to be doing nerd shit while on vacation while we're having actual fun," Oliver stated blandly.

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, Vivien turned toward her brother with a knowing look, "You say that like you won't be spending hours upon hours researching some cryptid or something with Markus in the hotel room." Peering in the rear-view mirror, Vivien found Abby's gaze and said, "And, Abby, we all know that you and Brynna will spend your time playing with her little siblings instead of just hanging out."

Abby opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it again as she let out a soft sigh, "Yeah, I guess you're right." 

"Just because it's spring break doesn't mean we somehow magically turn into party animals once we're on vacation," Vivien claimed with a shrug as the light turned green, and she continued onward. "We've been ingrained to be responsible regardless of where we are, but I'm sure we'll all still have fun being boring with our friends."

Although they constantly joked about going to big house parties at their friends' houses and getting absolutely trashed on whatever alcohol they could find, none of the O'Brian siblings had actually ever gone to a big house party or willingly gotten drunk. Most of the people at their school weren't interested in big parties either as it would be increasingly difficult to get all of their friends in one town. Since their school was regional, kids from towns almost an hour away would be shuttled in on the handful of school-choice buses, making it hard for big parties to really be a thing. Besides, many, if not all, of the friends the O'Brians had made at the school were relatively introverted kids who cared more about their studies than getting wasted, making their running joke of getting drunk with their friends even more preposterous.

Abby peered out the window at the rain as Oliver said, "You know, I kind of like that we're boring."

"Oh, yeah?" Vivien asked, glancing at her brother as she checked whether or not she could cross through the intersection.

"Mhm," Abby nodded in agreement.

"It means our parents let us hang out with pretty much anyone without really caring," Oliver claimed. "Even if our plans were to go out and do dumb stuff at a friend's house, they wouldn't think anything of us going over there."

Abby thought for a moment before saying, "That's true, but we also would feel pretty bad if we took their trust in us for granted."

This time, it was Vivien's turn to hum in agreement, "Yeah."

For the first time since her parents gave her permission to join their neighbors in their house in California, Vivien felt wary about her decision. Although she knew that they had no qualms about her going to California as they had known the Birch family longer than Vivien had been alive, they had no idea about the other universe they would be taking her to. She had no plans of telling them about it as she had promised to keep it a secret from literally everyone she knew, but the thought that she was, for the first time in her life, taking advantage of her parents' trust to go off galavanting in a world they had no idea about. Even though she had no plans of doing anything wrong or illegal while there, a knot began to form in her stomach at the idea of letting her parents down for keeping such a large secret from them.

Taking a deep breath as she pulled onto their street, Vivien pushed her thoughts aside, allowing her excitement to fill her once more. She could worry about it later when she had Mick to talk her through every insignificant problem her mind could sprout up. For now, she had to get ready for the trip, and with a limited amount of time to get all of her clothes folded, she needed to focus on that. As Vivien's blue Kona pulled into the driveway, their mother stepped outside with a few umbrellas, making her way to the end of the walkway and waiting for Viviebn's car to stop. As soon as the car was in park, Chelsea held her umbrella over the passenger's door and opened it, handing her son an umbrella as he stepped out with his backpack.

Wrapping her cardigan tightly around herself, Abby tapped Vivien's arm and said, "I'll take your metal stuff in so it doesn't get wet."

"Are you sure?" Vivien asked in return as Abby handed her the purple backpack she had kept an eye on during the trip home. "I can take it."

"That's okay," she replied. Once the front passenger's door closed, she quickly took hold of the Walmart bag's handles and added, "I don't think Mom bothered to bring out your umbrella, and I don't want them to get wet."

Hoping to save her sister from having to lug the heavy bag inside, Vivien tried to gently argue, "I'm parking in the garage, Abs, it's not a long walk to the door."

"That's okay," Abby shrugged. "I've already got it. I'll bring it up to your room for you."

Before Vivien could say anything to the contrary, Abby grinned, pushed open her door, and slid out, taking and opening the umbrella her mom handed her before slamming the door and rushing to the house with their mother not far behind. Left with her mouth still open, Vivien breathed, "Thanks," before shaking her head fondly and pressing the button to open the garage. Once her car was parked in the spot furthest from the door, Vivien slid out of her seat, pulling her backpack with her. Glancing out at the pouring rain, the brunette sighed, hauling her backpack onto one shoulder and gripping her keys in her free hand as she rushed into the downpour with a squeal, closing the overhead door with a single click as she raced toward the front door of the house.

Once inside, she closed the door, grateful for the warmth of the house, as she trudged her way to the coat closet and began taking off her now-soaked sneakers. Loki soon joined her on the floor, licking the water from her cheeks as she tossed her sneakers onto the drying rack alongside her siblings' shoes. Running her hands through the dog's fur, Vivien felt herself calm as she thanked the dog for his warm welcome. Pushing herself from the floor, Vivien ascended the stairs with her backpack and her Saint Bernard, grateful her bedroom was near the landing, as Loki shoved his way into her room and onto her bed. With a sigh, Vivien rolled her eyes at the oversized puppy and dropped her backpack onto the floor at the end of her bed, plopping herself onto her mattress as she debated how much time she had to pack.

Not even a minute into her procrastination party, Abby stepped into the room without so much as a knock, snickering at her older sister's dawdling as she passed by. "You know, lying there like a limp spaghetti noodle isn't going to help your bags get packed."

"Okay, Mom," Vivien huffed with a smirk, missing the way Abby visibly winced at being compared to their mother. Taking in a heavy breath, Vivien pushed herself from the bed and sighed, "Is it weird that I'm not ready for this now that I'm leaving?"

"Not really," Abby shrugged as her sister entered the closet and pulled her suitcase down from the top shelf. "You get this way before out-of-state competitions too."

"This is different from comps," Vivien said as she placed her suitcase on the end of her bed and opened the shell. "I don't usually go far without you guys."

Stepping up behind her sister, Abby placed a hand on the older girl's back and smiled once she had Vivien's attention, "You'll have tons of fun and you know it. I'm sure you'll forget all about us once you land."

"That's impossible, Abs," Vivien breathed, pulling the lighter-haired brunette into a hug. "I love you guys too much to not miss you."

Lifting her head enough to see her sister's face, Abby replied, "Trust me, you'll be sick of us by the end of the week. Dad will keep you updated with pictures of Loki every morning like he does when we go to camp, I'll send you pictures of the lodge and everything interesting I see, and I'm sure Olly will send you paragraphs of random facts he and Markus found online while they're away. By the end of vacation, you'll be so sick of us that you'll want to get away the minute you come home."

Vivien laughed, "Probably, yeah."

Stepping out of her sister's hold, Abby grinned and said, "Now, come on, we have packing to do."

Allowing her sister to take the reins, Vivien headed into her closet to figure out what clothes she wanted to bring, hauling her plastic bins of summer clothes down from the top shelf as Abby headed into her en-suite bathroom to pack up the essentials Vivien had typed out on her phone. Once Vivien had fished out a handful of clothes she wanted to bring, she brought them to her desk and dropped them in a heap in her chair. By the time Abby finished getting stuff out of the bathroom and into the suitcase, Vivien was halfway done folding her clothes, something Abby had helped finish in record time. After reassuring her sister that she would be borrowing swimwear from Mick's closet upon her arrival, Vivien threw a couple of pairs of shoes into the mesh pouch on the lid alongside her journal and the astronaut-shaped galaxy projector she kept on her bedside table as a nightlight.

With her packing done quicker than she had anticipated, Vivien sent a text to Mick that she was all set before grabbing a dry hoodie from her closet and hauling the suitcase to the main floor of the house, leaving it near the coat closet so that she could slip on some shoes and get out the door as quickly as possible. Once everything was in place, she and Loki joined her siblings in the living room, where Oliver had begun setting up Mario Kart on the Switch. Sitting in the space the twins had left for her, Vivien took the purple joy-con from the coffee table and slouched into the comfort of the couch cushions as Loki took his place on the floor by her feet.

As she chose her usual character, Yoshi, Vivien's phone dinged, and she pulled it out of her pocket, giving her siblings the chance to argue over who got Baby Bowser. Unlocking her phone, she opened her dad's text and smiled. Peering over Abby's head to where their mother was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping at her freshly-made smoothie while she presumably scrolled through her Facebook, Vivien rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation, thanking their dad for his offer of dinner and asking if he could pick them up their usual McDonald's orders before tucking her phone between her thigh and the couch and picking up her joy-con once again. Breaking up her siblings' argument with ease, Vivien started the game. Once they figured out who got which character, the three of them quickly got immersed in their battle for the first place.

As Oliver overtook Vivien for second place in Coconut Mall, leading the oldest of the siblings to cuss him out and jab him with her elbow, the front door slammed shut, alerting the whole house to the new visitor. Loki let out a bark as he rose from the floor, abandoning his post as the protector in favor of following the smell of french fries and cheeseburgers to the front door. The kids called out greetings to their father as they entered the final lap of their race, getting a chuckled response as Damien made his way through the entryway to the kitchen. Damien set the flimsy drink tray and paper bags plastered with golden arches on the kitchen counters, ignoring the look his ex-wife sent him as he began pulling fries and boxes from the bags and setting them out according to which family member had ordered what.

By the time the kids had finished their race, Chelsea had begun arguing with Damien about the quality of the food he had brought home, but the man seemed unbothered by her attitude, pushing aside her frustrations as the children approached. Stepping aside to allow them access to their meals, Damien accepted quick hugs from each of his children and asked them how their school days had been before following them to the living room. As Abby began to explain how her usually strict English teacher had them watch a movie as he had a migraine, Vivien sat cross-legged in her usual space on the far end of the couch and put one of the throw pillows over her lap so that the plate she put her food onto wouldn't fall.

After her siblings had rambled about their days, Damien turned to Vivien and asked, "What about you, babygirl? Anything fun happen today?"

Vivien shrugged, swallowing her mouthful of french fries before replying, "Not really. I signed up for the battle bot tournament after class."

Before her father could say anything, Abby butted in, "Alix said they saw you at the first round of auditions for the musical. I told them there was no way 'cause you hate being on stage, but they said it was true."

"It was," Vivien admitted before taking a bite of her burger.

Oliver choked on his chicken nugget, coughing a few times before swallowing thickly and asking, "Wait, seriously?"

Nodding, Vivien dipped her sandwich in a pile of ketchup and said, "Yeah. Emily wanted to audition, but didn't want to go alone, so I stepped in. It's not that big of a deal."

"It's a huge deal!" Abby squawked, twisting so that she could see her sister better. "Alix said the drama teachers were thinking of cancelling the other auditions because of you."

"Bull," Vivien scoffed, carefully avoiding the rest of her accusatory cuss as she felt the growing heat of her mother's gaze. "It wasn't even a meaningful audition. I sang some ABBA and ran for the hills; there's nothing impressive about that."

"But Alix said-"

"Alix could have heard wrong," Vivien argued, cutting off her sister's statement before it could spiral out of control. "Besides, even if they do choose me - which they won't - I'll just step down and let the understudy take whatever role I get."

"That would be for the best," Chelsea stated as she stabbed her fork into the grilled chicken salad her ex-husband had bought for her. "We've all seen how you get on stage at your grandparent's camp; putting you in any leading role in front all those people would be so much worse."

Ignoring their mother's statement with a roll of his eyes, Oliver turned to Vivien and said, "You can't back down."

Vivien grinned, sending her brother a curious look as she asked, "Why not?"

"Because!"

"That's not a reason, Olly."

"But it is," Oliver claimed. "We've all heard you sing in the car and you love theatre. This is your chance to see what it's like on Boadway."

"Who says I want to be on Broadway?" Vivien asked with a laugh.

Oliver thought for a moment before saying, "Well, nobody, but-"

"But the school is petitioning to get the Titanic Musical for the April show next year," Damien piped up, eyeing his eldest daughter out of his peripheral vision as she froze, her handful of ketchup-soaked french fries hanging in midair as she processed his claim. Smirking, he added, "If you have at least one show under your belt, they might consider you for one of the primary roles when the time comes."

Excitedly watching the wheels turn in Vivien's head, Abby grabbed her sister's free wrist and wiggled it as she said, "See! If you back down now, you'll never get to be in Titanic next year."

Vivien sighed, green eyes shifting from mild annoyance to fondness as she turned to her younger sister and slipped her fingers between Abby's, "As much as I would love that, there's no chance of me getting the lead."

"Would you at least try out for Titanic next year?" Oliver asked. "That would be right up your alley."

With a snort, Chelsea chortled, "She would probably spend all her time critiquing the accuracy of everything."

"Actually," Vivien began, finding a sliver of courage to meet her mother's gaze, "the show is fairly accurate when it comes to representing the people aboard the ship that night. The historical details are only slightly manipulated to add more drama, and-"

"See," Chelsea began, glancing between her children and ex-husband, "she's already at it."

Abby opened her mouth to argue, but Vivien's grip on her hand tightened, telling her to back down before things could get worse. Abby's bluish-brown eyes found Vivien's emerald gaze, and with a shake of her head, Abby resigned, returning to her food with a barely audible sigh. Refusing to let their last family dinner before spring break be soured by the cutthroat words of his ex-wife, Damien took the remote from the coffee table and switched the input back to the Roku before letting the kids decide between two of the movies on their watchlist - The Outsiders and The Truman Show.

With the rather unanimous vote of The Truman Show, the family settled in once more and relaxed as they watched Jim Carrey's character come to life. Not long into the movie, Abby shifted between Vivien and their father, and it wasn't long before she was sprawled out over the two with her head on Vivien's lap and her legs on their dad's. Once Abby had settled into a comfortable position, Vivien began absentmindedly running her fingers through the girl's lighter hair, calming both of them at once as Truman watched his dad get shoved into a bus and taken away. However, further into the movie, as Truman began drawing a spacesuit around his reflection, Vivien's phone began to ring, and she quickly stood, shoving a somewhat disgruntled Abby off her lap and taking her trash with her to the kitchen before answering the phone. 

After checking the caller ID, she smiled, tossed her trash into the bin next to the refrigerator, and quietly said, "Please tell me you're on your way."

A snort came from the other end as Mick replied, "Hello to you, too. I mean, damn, child, are you that willing to run away from home?"

Vivien glanced at her family and chuckled, "Maybe a little."

"Well, good," Mick replied. "We're pulling into the driveway now, so come out when you're ready."

Snickering to herself, Vivien said, "I thought you already knew I was bi, Mickie."

"Look, rugrat," Mick snipped, though Vivien could clearly hear the humor in her tone. "We're parked by the garage, but bring a rain coat or something; it's pouring."

"Still?"

"Yup."

Vivien sighed, "Alright, I'll be out in a few." She sucked in a deep breath and smiled to herself as Mick hung up her end of the call. Vivien headed back to the living room and grinned as she noticed Oliver holding the remote, keeping the movie paused until her return. Ruffluing her brother's hair, she cooed, "Aww, Olly-bear! Did you pause the movie just for me?"

Shoving her hand away, Oliver ran his hand through his hair and scoffed, "No, I just didn't want to have to rewind it for you."

"Yeah, sure," Abby drawled sarcastically as she punched her twin's thigh.

Chuckling as the twins began arguing over Oliver's ability - or lack thereof - to show kindness, Damien twisted in his seat, found Vivien's gaze, and asked, "Was that Mick and her parents?"

"Yeah, they just pulled up," Vivien nodded, glancing toward the front door.

With a smile, he asked, "Are you ready to go, babygirl?"

Vivien excitedly nodded, but her excitement seemed to dim as Chelsea asked, "Go where, exactly?"

"To California," Vivien explained. "You know, for spring break?"

"I never said you could go," Chelsea stated, finally looking up from her phone with steely eyes. "A trip like that requires planning, and I highly doubt you, of all people, are prepared to fly three thousand miles across the country for a week in some random city you've never been to."

Before Vivien could argue, Damien turned to his ex and said, "She asked both of us months ago, and, actually, she's had everything planned out since I gave her permission. Vivien's a smart girl; she wouldn't jump into something without proper planning."

"She even helped Abs and I plan our trips with our friends," Oliver piped up.

Placing a hand on her dad's shoulder and glancing toward her brother, Vivien thanked him with a smile before turning toward their mom and saying, "And, since Dad gave me permission, I can go, right, Mom?"

Chelsea took in a deep breath, glancing between Damien and Vivien with a stare that would end wars, but finally, she picked up her phone and huffed, "Fine. Go."

Hoping to get out the door before her mother could change her mind again, Vivien began making her way to the door, only to hear footsteps rushing up behind her. Turning, Vivien smiled as Abby and Oliver jogged up to her, Abby wrapping her in a hug as Oliver stood to the side with a grin. Squeezing her older sister, Abby pleaded, "Take lots of pictures for me, sissy."

Letting out a breath of a laugh, Vivien waited until Abby stepped back before taking her keys from the hook by the door and pushing them into the palm of her sister's hand. At Abby's confused look, she said, "Can you put them in your lockbox for me? I don't want Mom to use my car while I'm gone just 'cause it has lower mileage than hers."

Nodding in understanding, Abby softly asked, "Do you want your diary in there too?"

Vivien shook her head, "I'm taking it with me, but thank you."

Oliver shuffled closer, hinting at his desire for a final hug before his oldest sister's departure as he asked, "What about your fancy rocks?"

Wrapping her arms around Oliver's shoulders, she replied, "I took a few with me, but I doubt Mom will do anything with them because most of the ones I left are big and would be obvious if they went missing."

"If you're sure," Oliver mumbled into Vivien's shoulder before patting her back and slipping out of her grasp.

Once she took a step back, Vivien reached into her pocket and pulled out two colorful crystals, holding one out to either of her siblings, "For Abby, some charoite. It's good for keeping away negativity and helping you see a new side of yourself. Hopefully, it'll help you relax while you're away."

Abby smiled at the purple rock, shifting it in the light to see the different hues before thanking her sister and pocketing the crystal. Then, with a roll of his eyes and a smirk, Oliver accepted the smooth green lump and said, "Let me guess, this is some hard-to-pronounce rock too."

"Actually, no," Vivien snickered. "It's green aventureine and it's good for creativity, luck, and opportunities. I figured, with all the activities you'll be doing, and the theories you'll be picking apart, it would be nice to take with you."

Rolling the crystal around in his palm, Oliver allowed his smirk to spread into a smile as he handed Vivien her raincoat and said, "Have fun in Cali, Vivi."

Vivien smiled but didn't have the chance to respond as her father entered the room and said, "She will. Brady and Mack reassured me that they had a fun week planned."

Finding her dad's tired eyes, Vivien slotted herself in his arms and asked, "Will you be alright here without us for a week?"

"I'll be fine," Damien claimed as he ran a soothing hand over Vivien's hair. "Your mother is going on one of her work trips on Monday, so I'll be alone most of the time you kids are away."

Peering up at her father, Vivien smiled, "A week of empty-nesting, huh? That'll be interesting for you."

Damien pressed a kiss to Vivien's forehead and smiled, "It'll be over before I know it. Now, do you have everything?" Vivien nodded. "Are you sure? You've got your toothbrush, hairbrush?"

"I'm sure, Dad," Vivien chuckled. "And, before you ask, yes, I have the taser pen Riven's dad gave me. I took the batteries out and everything, just like he taught me."

Nodding, Damien sighed, "Good. I know I'm overthinking this, but I don't want you to be in a strange city without protection."

"I know," Vivien said with a knowing smirk. "And I don't blame you. It would be stupid of me to go without anything."

Damien hummed before smiling at his oldest girl, "I had your sister sneak something into your bag from the three of us, but promise me you won't open it until you get where you're going and have the chance to settle in."

Glancing at her sister, wondering when she could have slipped something into her luggage, Vivien smiled and said, "I won't, I promise."

"Good," he said, more for himself than his daughter. Then, patting her arm, Damien told Vivien, "Alright, well, get going before I chicken out."

"Alright, alright," Vivien snickered as she rolled her eyes up at her dad. "I'm going."

Allowing his daughter to step away and pull the zipper of her raincoat up as far as it would go, Damien pulled up her suitcase handle and held it out for her to take as he breathed, "Have fun, sweetheart."

"I'll try."

Placing a hand over Vivien's, he smiled, "You will." Once Vivien nodded in agreement, he requested, "Let us know when you land, okay?"

"Of course," Vivien beamed, anticipation bubbling up in her chest as she nodded excitedly. "I'll let you know when we get to their house too."

As Oliver opened the door and Vivien stepped out, Abby said, "I'll let Mom know you said goodbye."

Vivien crossed the threshold of the house and dragged her luggage with her, waving to the Birches and saying, "Thanks. I'll see you guys in ten days."

"Have fun!" Abby called as Vivien rushed through the rain to the Birch family's minivan.

"Enjoy the sun!" Damien said as Brady helped Vivien haul her suitcase into the trunk before closing it.

"Don't get wasted on the beach!" Oliver added, earning him a middle finger from his oldest sister and a tap on the back of the head from their dad. "What?" he asked rhetorically as Vivien hopped into the van and rolled the window down. "I'm just saying."

As the vehicle began to roll down the driveway, Vivien leaned out as far as the seatbelt would allow and yelled, "Love you!"

As her family called back in kind, Vivien rolled up the window and relaxed in her seat, earning a chuckle from Mick as the older brunette greeted her, "You look like a wet dog."

Laughing breathlessly, Vivien pushed her stringy, wet bangs away from her forehead and sighed, "I probably smell like one too, to be honest with you."

Mick pretended to sniff the air before grinning, "Only a little bit."

Vivien smiled and tipped her head to the side, finding Mick's gaze as she sighed, "I hope I don't look like a drowned rat when Royce sees me."

Mack laughed from the passenger's seat, leaning over the center console to see Vivien as she reassured her, "You won't, sweetheart. We'll make sure of it."

"I mean," Brady drawled as he pulled out onto the main roads, seemingly weighing his options until Mack slapped his arm with the back of her hand.

"Brady!"

"Kidding!" the man chuckled, somewhat proud of his playful jibe as the girls in the backseat snickered.

Vivien sighed contentedly as she relaxed into the van's faded, somewhat worn fabric seats, "I've missed this."

"You won't be saying that for long," Mack claimed. "By the end of the first week, you'll be begging us to send you home."

"Doubtful," Vivien replied with a smile. The idea of spending any length of time in the world Mick had been talking her ear off about since the day she discovered it back in December had been like something of a fantasy for Vivien. Now that she actually had the chance to see the places in her friends' pictures, the thought of cutting her stay short for anything other than the most dire circumstances was bizarre. "I'm pretty sure you'll have to drag me away kicking and screaming."

"Well, we certainly won't be doing that," Brady laughed.

"Yeah," Mick agreed, taking Vivien's hand with a brilliant smile. "You can stay there with us for as long as you want."

"And time here won't change, right?" Vivien recounted.

"Right," Mack agreed. "That machine will allow you to stay as long as you like without anything changing."

Mick nodded, watching Vivien's thoughtful eyes flicker behind her circular frames as she explained, "We turn the time control mechanism off while we're in this world so that they can enjoy life normally there, but we freeze time here so that we can enjoy things without having to go back and forth to pay bills and stuff like that."

Vivien grinned, "Like taking random teenagers into different dimensions without their parents feeling the need to call everypolice department in the tate to see if they can send out search parties?"

"I guess you could say that," Brady snorted as he pulled onto the turnpike and pressed the gas pedal further toward the floor.

The conversation seemed to split from there as Mack pulled up the directions to the airport on her phone, telling Brady to slow down before they reached a particular spot the state troopers liked to park in order to catch people speeding on the turnpike. Watching trees and distant buildings fly by as the car sped up, Vivien pulled her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the Discord chat she had with her bandmates, sending them a selfie of herself and Mick before hastily typing a message about them finally being on the road.

Erica was the first to respond - her text of "bitch, you bettr not become a fuckign valley girl!" appearing just before Riven's "Have fun, Pip! Don't get eaten by a shark; I need you for comp" and followed soon after by Jade's ever-calm message of, "ignore their bs. we love you. stay safe. xoxo." Vivien snickered as the trio began blowing up her phone; Erica starting an argument with Riven about sharks being harmless while also telling Jade to fuck off for being the responsible one.

"You good over there?" Mick asked, her humor evident as Vivien glanced up from her phone.

Holding out the device and leaning over so that they could both watch the drama unfold, Vivien explained, "Erica's being a bitch, Riven is a sarcastic shit, and Jade's acting like a mother hen, so Erica picked a fight with both of them."

Mick watched as Erica sent a wall of text that only consisted of the middle finger emoji, snickering, "So, a normal day, then?"

"Pretty much," Vivien agreed. As they watched conversation bubbles appear and Erica's rant spiral into nonsense, her smile faltered. She would miss them while she was away. Even when her family went on vacations, Riven would go with them, and she could text the girls anytime she wanted. This time, her ability to message them and ask them for advice on things would be revoked the minute she entered the other world. With a heavy sigh, she admitted, "I'm going to miss them."

Taking in the girl's expression, Mick reached up and placed a hand on Vivien's back, rubbing circles into her plastic raincoat as she said, "It'll suck for a few days, but after a while, you sort of get used to it."

Peering up at the older girl, Vivien allowed herself to smile, "You're talking from experience, aren't you?"

"Sadly," Mick confirmed. "My instincts were to take pictures of everything to show my friends when I got back, but then I realized I couldn't. It took a while to adjust and my phone is still full of pictures nobody else has seen, but after a while, I got used to just saving the memories for myself."

Nodding in understanding, Vivien breathed, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I can send them some pictures when I get back, but until then, I can keep them to myself."

Pivoting in her seat, Mick turned toward Vivien and asked, "So, what are your plans for Royce? Are we doing a casual surprise where you just walk in and say hi or are we doing something grand in front of everyone?"

"I don't know," Vivien shrugged. "I haven't really given it a lot of thought. I was more concerned about my mom keeping me from going."

"Well, now we've got time to think it through!" Mick exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Not much time,” Mack explained. “We’ll be at the airport in about five, maybe ten minutes, and since we have a private flight, we’ll be in the air within the hour.”

“You guys never told me you have a private jet,” Vivien stated. “Like, I knew you guys had money, but damn.”

“It’s not ours,” Mick shrugged.

“One of my friends from school became a pilot,” Brady explained. “He’s offered us free trips whenever we need it since he knows how often we travel to the East coast and it gives him the opportunity to visit some family of his in Vermont.”

Vivien hummed, more to herself than to anyone in the vehicle, “That’s nice of him.”

After a moment of relative silence, Mick patted Vivien’s hand and told her, “Anyway, regardless of what you decide to do, Royce will be surprised.”

“You think?” Vivien asked. “I thought someone would have told him by now.”

Mick shook her head emphatically, beaming proudly as she explained, “Actually, I haven’t told anybody that you’re coming.”

Vivien’s eyes glittered with excitement as she asked, “Seriously?”

Mick nodded, her wavy hair bouncing with the movement, “I'm not the greatest at being sneaky, so the only person who might know is Butchy, and he’s not one to spill things like that.”

“That’s insane!” Vivien exclaimed, a laugh tumbling from her lips at the thought of surprising her friends with her sudden appearance in their world.

“I know, right!” Mick giggled. “But that means we have endless possibilities for surprising people. It all depends on where they are at the time.”

“When we land, it will be about one in the morning, Pacific Time,” Mack explained. “On a commercial flight, we usually stop a few times along the way to swap planes or pick up new passengers, but since this is private, we’re going to stop in New Jersey for a few minutes due to busy airways, and then get back in the air.”

“That will give us plenty of time to think about it,” Mick said cheerfully.

“And give both of you the chance to sleep,” Brady reminded his daughter, peering at her in the rearview mirror before he pulled onto the street that led them to the airport. “We don’t need both of you to be zombies when we touch down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mick brushed off with a wave of her hand, her excitement over the whole situation outweighing the concept of sleep. “Anyway, I’ve got ideas for both options, and we can talk about them on the plane, if you want.”

Sending the older girl a smile and a nod, Vivien watched Mick smile and relax in her seat; pulling out her phone as Vivien took in a slow breath and glanced out the window. As they passed the Mall of New Hampshire, Vivien snapped a quick picture of the building and sent it to the group chart that had begun to quiet without her presence there to encourage the chaos, sending a cheeky message teasing the two girls who worked within the large, stucco and concrete building. Jade was the first to respond, her video message of her waving to the camera, arriving on Vivien’s phone as they pulled up to a gated parking lot. As Brady began speaking to the guard, listing the passengers and which flight they were on, Vivien sent a private message to Riven, telling him how nervous she was about being on a private plane.

‘You have nothing to worry about, Pip,’ was his reply. ‘The Birches know what they’re doing and wouldn’t put you in danger like that. Just breathe. You’ve got this.’

Sucking in a deep breath through gritted teeth, Vivien sent back a reply of gratitude and tried to relax as the car lurched forward and moved past the gate. Mack popped open the console between herself and Brady, pulling out a trio of passports before turning toward Vivien and asking, “Do you have your passport ready?”

Reaching under her rain coat and into the pocket of her hoodie, Vivien pulled the navy blue booklet out and handed it up to Mack, who added it to the stack in her hands. As they rolled down the tarmac, Vivien watched through the windows, trying to guess which aircraft they would be in. Narrowing it down the further they got, Vivien let out a noise of surprise as Brady turned to the side, lurching her toward the door as he pulled to a stop in a parking space. Looking around in confusion, Vivien followed the others out of the car, following Mack to the back of the vehicle, where they pulled their luggage from the trunk.

Mick grabbed Vivien’s free hand, pulling her toward a jet that had the door open and a set of stairs waiting. Pushing the handles of their suitcases down and picking them up by the straps on top, the girls boarded the plane, pushing their suitcases to the side to be scanned before finding seats to collapse into. Nudging Vivien into a window seat, Mick took the seat across from her and relaxed, waiting for her parents to board before instructing the younger girl to buckle up.

After the pilot came to greet them, telling them all the basics he needed to go over before the flight, he returned to the cockpit and announced that they would be leaving as soon as he had permission from the traffic control tower. With much reassurance from the others, Vivien began to relax, snapping pictures of the plane and the setting sun to send to her friends and family. After another announcement came over the speakers about taking off, they were in the air, and Vivien’s phone returned to her pocket as the seatbelt lights turned off. Peeling off her rain coat and shoving it into the seat next to her, Vivien huffed a sigh of relief as she realized the part she had worried about the most was now over.

Watching as the ground below grew smaller and harder to see, Vivien turned her attention to Mick, who had folded her arms on top of the table between them, leaning closer with a smile that told Vivien she didn’t want to know what the girl was going to get her into. “Do I want to know?” she asked the older brunette.

Vivien could hear the girl’s feet thumping against the base of her chair as she swung her legs back and forth, but Mick’s smile refused to dissipate as she explained, “I’ve been cooking up ideas for you.”

Nodding to herself, Vivien rolled her eyes, “Yup, didn’t want to know.”

Ignoring the girl’s statement, Mick said, “I was thinking-”

“That’s dangerous,” Brady chuckled from his seat on the opposite side of the plane.

“Dad,” Mick sighed dramatically. When the older man snickered and struck up a conversation with his wife, Mick turned her attention back to Vivien with a roll of her caramel eyes. “I figured that, once we land, we can-”

“Go to sleep?” Vivien interrupted.

“Ha!” Mick laughed. “No.”

“Yes,” Mack said, her motherly tone giving Mick little to no wiggle room as she deflated slightly.

“Okay, yeah, that too,” Mick relented. “But we can pick out some cute outfits from my closet and make sure you feel beautiful before we go.” Pointedly turning toward her mom, Micxk asked, “Right, Momma?”

“So long as you two aren’t up all night, yes,” Mack replied before taking a sip of the water bottle she had taken from the cabin’s mini fridge. “Now, Vivien, did you have anything to eat, sweetheart? They have sandwiches and things in the fridge, if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” Vivien brushed off graciously. “Dad brought home some Mickey D’s on his way home from work.”

“I’m surprised he made it through the warden with that,” Brady said in a scoff.

Vivien smirked as the other two women gave their own forms of agreement, simply glad she wasn’t the only one who found her mother’s strict food control to be something of a nightmare. “Yeah, well, he didn’t exactly give her a choice. He came in, gave her a salad to shut her up, and let us get our meals without letting her anger break him down.”

“Good for him,” Mick grinned.

“Glad to know he’s finally growing bigger balls than hers,” Mack added. “I think we’ve all been placing bets to see how long that would take.”

With a hum of agreement, Vivien allowed the conversation to flow between topics, absentmindedly bringing up the subject of the battle bot project she wanted to work on when they got the chance, something that made Mick practically vibrate with excitement. Brady brought up the idea of using his tools if need be, which inspired Mick to go off on a spiel about possibly going to either Butchy’s or Miles’ place of work to utilize their welding kits and use some of the metal scraps they had tossed aside. By the time Mack had managed to pull them away from the topic at hand, they were starting to make their descent at an airport in Newark, New Jersey.

Before the plane took off again, Vivien sent a few relatively dark images and some quick messages to the people who knew she was leaving before stepping into the bathroom of the jet to call her aunts before they went to bed. They discussed the trip and spoke for a while about all of the activities Vivien was looking forward to before they wished each other a good night. Vivien promised to let them know when they landed before ending the call and scurrying back to her seat as the captain announced their approaching departure. Once they were back in the air and allowed to roam about, Mick showed Vivien how to recline her seat and find a comfortable position to sleep in before offering the girl a blanket and promptly passing out in her chair.

One by one, Vivien watched as the Birch family succumbed to the land of dreams, but despite her growing exhaustion and yawns tumbling from her mouth every other minute, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually sleep. She could have easily chalked up her inability to sleep to her nerves, but that wasn’t quite right. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew that there was nothing to worry about. Royce and Bentley would love to drag her around, Carrie had promised to take her to the lot they were filming on if she ever found herself in their world, and even Butchy and Miles had discussed dragging her to their respective jobs to show her knowledge of old vehicles off to their respective coworkers. There was nothing for her to be worked up over.

Forcing herself to take in a deep breath and push her unfounded fears aside, Vivien allowed another yawn to overtake her as she stretched. Reclining her seat and tugging her blanket around her shoulders, Vivien slouched into a more comfortable position, tucked her cell phone into her pocket, set her glasses on the table between herself and Mick’s slumbering form, and waited until the soft humming of the plane’s machinery lulled her to sleep. To her dismay, what felt like only a few minutes passed before Vivien found herself being gently shaken awake, grumbling at the interruption as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

A chuckle came from a blurry form as Vivien searched blearily for her glasses, listening to the person apologize in a soft voice before handing her the glasses she was searching for. Finally peering up at the person, Vivien found Brady smiling back at her, offering her a hand as he told her, “We just landed, kiddo. Time to go home.”

Chuckling exhaustedly as she stretched herself out like a cat rising from a comfortable position in the summer sun, Vivien muttered, “Am I too old to ask for someone to carry me?”

Brady let out another soft laugh, “Never, but I haven’t carried anybody in years, and I’d rather not drop you down the stairs of a plane.”

Vivien snorted and pushed herself from her seat, “Yeah, let’s not do that, then.”

“Smart girl,” Mack advised, patting the teenager on the back as she passed her on her way back from the bathroom.

As Brady worked on waking Mick from her slumber, Vivien folded up the blanket she had used, made sure she had everything she brought with her, and followed Mack to the front of the plane, where they received their belongings. Yawning as she followed Mack down the stairs, Vivien welcomed the warm California air with a tired grin. “It’s nice out,” she muttered as Mack led her toward a pale blue Jeep that had been brought onto the tarmac for them.

Accepting her car keys from the driver who brought the car over, Mack chuckled, “My phone says it’s fifty-something right now.”

More than content with the idea of the summer-like weather, Vivien sighed happily as she hauled her suitcase into the trunk of the car alongside Mack’s, “Like I said, I think you guys will have to drag me kicking and screaming from this place.”

Bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders, Mack smiled, “Just wait until you see how close we are to the beach.”

Vivien’s eyes glittered as the woman brought her to the side of the car, encouraging her to climb inside as Mack slid into the driver’s seat. However, before she climbed inside the vehicle, Vivien pulled out her phone and took a picture of the plane they landed in, sending it to the group chat with her bandmates before sending a message to her family members, letting everyone know they had landed safely in Santa Ana and were on their way to the Birch family’s home. Once she was sure the messages had been sent, Vivien slid into the backseat behind Mack and pulled the seatbelt across her body. Once the others had found their way to the car, Mack started the engine and pulled away from the plane, heading through a series of gates before making her way to the street and pulling away from the John Wayne Airport.

Unable to fall back asleep as they pulled onto the San Diego Freeway, Vivien watched with wide eyes as she took in the glow of the city. Throughout the half-hour drive, Vivien took a myriad of pictures. Glowing palm trees, buildings in the distance that appeared to touch the sky, and, as the freeway pulled them through San Juan Capistrano toward the beach, pictures of a seemingly endless night sky over the water. Smiling as he watched the girl take another picture, Brady encouraged his wife to take the long way home without saying a word, and Mack took the next exit, pulling onto Pacific Coast Highway and following it until the first set of lights she could turn at. At the next intersection, she turned onto Park Lantern and followed the street toward the water until it merged with Coast Highway.

The couple suppressed their laughter as Vivien gasped, leaning over their daughter to take pictures of the water that was still covered by a blanket of stars in the nighttime sky. Once houses began to block her view, Vivien relaxed, but her excitement was still very much palpable as the car glided down the highway. Turning toward the backseat, Brady kept his voice hushed as they slowed to a stop at a red light, “If you want a good shot, our street sign is right up here.”

“Really?” Vivien whispered.

Brady hummed in confirmation, “It’s on the light post up here on your side.”

Sure enough, as Vivien leaned closer to her window and squinted up at the post, she found a green sign with the words “Camino Capistrano” in thick, white writing. Although her cell phone refused to see the sign in the dark, Vivien smiled and kept her eyes on it until they had turned onto the aforementioned street and could no longer see the sign. Smiling more to herself than anything, Vivien watched with bated breath as Mack drove further up the street, past a traffic light, and through a curve. When they finally pulled to a stop in front of a fancy black gate with a Mediterranean-style roof and a few doors on either side, Vivien felt her jaw hit the floor.

Contrary to popular opinion, Vivien’s family had money. For a while in her childhood, her family had lived in an apartment that barely gave them enough room to live, but they had enough money to put food on the table and buy new things here and there. After her grandparents offered them the opportunity to move into their old house and take over the winery while they moved closer to their beloved summer camp, Vivien felt as though she was the luckiest person on the planet. While they weren’t exactly Elon Musk-level rich, the winery her parents operated and her grandparent’s summer camp made them more than financially secure. Knowing she had the chance to take on their jobs in the future, Vivien thought she would become richer than she had ever previously thought possible. However, as she got her first look at the Birch’s house, she realized she didn’t know shit about rich people.

Being well off on the East Coast meant having a home you owned, a car or two, and potentially a pet if you felt like it. Most people back home enjoyed taking up residence in old, colonial-style homes that would set them back a good hundred thousand dollars at least and were originally built for families with eleven or twelve children. East Coast wealth was classy, clean, and, well, antique. West Coast wealth, on the other hand, was a new kind of expensive. Stepping out of the car once they rolled to a stop in the four-car garage, Vivien couldn’t help but feel poor in every sense of the word.

Although Vivien had seen bits and pieces of the house over FaceTime with Mick, the sheer size of the house was astonishing. Following closely behind her friend, Vivien’s eyes scanned from the large, orange roof to the various balconies, to the swimming pool that seemed to wrap around the side of the house, and the various water guns and toys strewn about in the yard that were evidence that her friends from another world had visited before the Birches had come to collect her. Entering the house, Vivien waited for the lights to turn on before looking around at the pristine entryway. A large glass chandelier hung above the entrance, glimmering rays of light throughout the hall and part of the living room.

Although Vivien felt more than awake and ready to explore the luxurious home, Mack and Brady urged her to follow Mick upstairs once she had taken her shoes off by the door. Relenting despite her excitement, Vivien followed Mick up the hardwood stairs, grinning at the various childhood photographs of Mick and her friends along the wall as they climbed. Coming to the landing, Vivien found herself taken aback once more by the view. Across from the top of the stairs was a panoramic view of the beach across the street, a comfortable lounge area settled facing the floor-to-ceiling windows with a television mounted on the right wall - the only one without windows.

Before she could take a moment to process the kitchenette on one side of the staircase or the gaming area on the other, Vivien found herself taken by the wrist around the banister to a short hallway with three doors. They passed a room with Mick’s initial painted on the door, but Mick didn’t so much as glance toward her bedroom before opening the door to another room at the end of the hall and stepping aside for Vivien to enter.

With a yawn, the short brunette explained, “This used to be one of our guest rooms, but the boys usually take it when they stay with us, so a lot of Bentley art supplies and Royce’s books stay here.”

Looking up at the coffered, waffle-esque design on the ceiling and the various signs of life in the room, Vivien let out a disbelieving laugh, “This is insane.”

Mick took a look around and sighed at how poorly she had cleaned the room before leaving the week before, “Yeah, I know it’s not the cleanest right now, but we can pick everything up in the morning if you-”

“No, no, no!” Vivien said with a quick shake of her head, turning back toward her friend with a smile as she stood her suitcase by the end of the queen-sized bed. “Mick, you don’t understand.”

Confused in part by the conversation and part by her lack of sleep, Mick’s head tipped slightly to the side as she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I thought my house was big and that we were well off,” Vivien began, twirling around as she examined the room before finding Mick’s gaze again, “but I think yours just bitch-slapped my whole family onto the poverty line!”

Mick let out a snort, shaking her head fondly, “Well, don’t start comparing dick sizes just yet, gremlin. Save that for a time when I can actually think straight.”

“I hardly ever think straight,” Vivien smirked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed she had been given.

With a roll of her eyes and a fond smile, Mick teased, “Believe me, I know. Now, try to get some sleep. You don’t want jet lag to knock you out on your ass later.”

Raising her hand to her forehead in a mock salute, Vivien said, “Sir, yes, sir.”

Chuckling, Mick wished the younger girl a good night before disappearing into the hall, leaving the girl’s door open so that she could see the dimly lit lights in the hallway. Taking in a deep breath in the silence of her new room, Vivien hefted her suitcase onto the bed beside her and unzipped it, pulling out her astronaut lamp and setting it aside before tugging a pair of celestial pajama shorts and a matching tank top from one side of her suitcase. Picking up the luggage, she carried it over to a chair and left it open in the seat, changed into her pajamas, plugged in her lamp, and slipped under the covers with her headphones in one hand and phone in the other.

Putting on her headphones and listening to one of her favorite ASMR channels while watching the stars dance across the ceiling, Vivien finally found herself able to fall asleep relatively quickly. Dreams of surfing cerulean waves with her friends filled her night, and by the time the sun had begun poking through the curtains on either side of her bed, Vivien felt well-rested and ready to start her day. After hastily getting dressed in something appropriate for the eighty-three-degree weather her phone forecasted, Vivien took her time examining the house as she made her way down to the kitchen. Mick’s bedroom had already been vacated, and if the voices floating up the stairs were anything to go by, she was with her parents.

Making her way through the house to the kitchen, Vivien smiled as she listened to her friend’s family converse. The energy in the Birch’s house was always somewhat calming to Vivien, an environment where she could relax and feel at home regardless of what they were up to that day, but the feeling of belonging never wavered, no matter how far apart they truly were. Watching Mick dance around with her mother to the music on the radio, Vivien smiled as she leaned against the island counter. Brady nudged her arm as the song changed, beaming at the new addition to their household before offering her his hand. 

Without much hesitation, Vivien placed her hand in Brady’s and allowed him to lead her in a bouncy dance that twirled them around the kitchen as Vivien giggled. Mack and her daughter stopped after a while to watch the pair, listening to Vivien half-sing, half-shriek her way through the lyrics as Brady spun her around the kitchen with ease. As the song came to an end, he twirled Vivien away, grinning as she laughed over the voice of the radio host.

Once her vision had stopped spinning, Vivien giggled, “Good morning, America!”

Brady chuckled, “Good way to get the blood pumping early in the morning, right, kiddo?”

Vivien nodded, but it was Mack who spoke, “We find it’s nice to do something fun before you start your day.”

“Speaking of starting your day,” Mick began as Vivien climbed onto one of the stools on the side of the island, “are you feeling up to leaving yet?”

“Makana,” Mack scolded lightly, “let the poor girl wake up first.”

Vivien smiled as Mick sighed dramatically, but she shook her head as she turned to the older woman. “It’s alright, Mrs B. I think I’m too excited to be tired.”

Sighing as he opened the fridge, Brady said, “Well, that’s good because I think we’re going to have to have breakfast at Butchy and Lela’s house this morning.”

Mack appeared confused for a moment before realization dawned on her face, “We forgot to pick up food last night.”

Mick shrugged, “It was two in the morning.”

With a shake of his head, Brady turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you mind us using your kitchen?”

Before Mick could reply, Vivien asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to go to Big Momma’s for breakfast since we have to go there anyway?”

“It would be,” Mick replied with a nod, “but by the time we pry Lela off of you, it’ll be time for lunch.” Turning back to her parents as Vivien nodded in understanding, she said, “Butchy and I can make up something while everyone gets settled in.”

Mack nodded and turned her attention back to Vivien before asking, “Would you like to go now, then? Do you have anything you would like to bring with you?”

Vivien thought for a moment before nodding, “I brought some stuff with me that I wanted to show everyone. Can I run up and grab it?”

“You don’t have to ask, Vivien,” Brady insisted. Nodding toward the stairs, he said, “Just go; we’ll still be here when you come back.”

As Vivien slid out of her seat, Mick patted her arm excitedly and said, “Just put your clothes on the bed and take your whole suitcase. I’m, like, ninety-three percent sure you’ll leave with more clothes than you came with.”

Her excitement surging at the idea, Vivien nodded and hurried for the stairs, bounding up them two at a time and pushing aside her desire to explore the large home as she headed for her room. Moving her suitcase from the chair she left it on to the end of her bed, Vivien began pulling out a majority of her daily clothes, leaving her essentials, headphones, charger cords, astronaut lamp, the envelope with her name on it that her siblings and father had given her before she left home, and a few items of clothing Carrie and Lela had let her “borrow” and never got back. Once she was certain she had everything she wanted to bring with her for however long she would be away, Vivien zipped up her bag and took in a deep breath. Glancing out the window at San Clemente, Vivien smiled at the knowledge that, within mere minutes, she would be transported into a world she had only ever heard in stories and seen in a movie.

Grabbing her suitcase by the handle, Vivien left her bedroom and headed for the stairs, lifting her bag before her descent and taking the handle once she’d reached the landing. Practically skipping to the kitchen, Vivien beamed at the Birches as she cheered, “Ready for liftoff!”

Happy to show off his work to a new person, Brady clapped his hands and gestured toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard, “After you, kiddo.”

Vivien took the lead, opening one side of the door and sucking in a sharp breath as she was hit full-force with the heat of Southern California. Mick snickered, wrapping an arm around Vivien and guiding her toward the shed at the back of their property as she chuckled, “Welcome to California.”

‘Ugh,” Vivien groaned, “is it always like this?”

“Not always, no,” Mick claimed, “but believe me, summers are much worse in Florida.”

Hoping the older girl was simply joking, Vivien remained quiet until Mick ushered her into the shed, and she was made to carefully toe her way around scrapped projects and stray tools until she reached the yellow, tube-shaped behemoth pressed securely against the back wall. A large flower Vivien recalled seeing on a surfboard hanging on the wall in the Birch’s home was engraved into metal at the very top of the machine, wires and metal bars sticking out behind it in a haphazard yet efficient way. Pulling the handle on the right side of the machine, Vivien stepped back as the rounded glass panel at the front slid back into the left side of the machine.

With a gentle nudge from Mack, Vivien stepped into the machine, followed soon after by the family who had brought her there. As the glass door slid closed again, Mick took her friend's free hand and told her to hang on to her belongings before instructing her to watch out the window to see things change around them. Somewhat cautious of the machine as it whirred to life, Vivien watched as a vibrant glow from above seemed to illuminate the otherwise dark mechanic's shed. A soft hum filled the air as colors began to swirl outside the machine, a kaleidoscope of hues coming to life in a vibrant array that faintly reminded Vivien of a show she had seen as a child. The colors grew brighter and more vibrant, rivaling the LED lights Vivien knew Oliver had lining his ceiling before slowly dimming and allowing Vivien to see her first glimpse of another world.

Although she didn't want to appear let down by the view she was given, Vivien couldn't help her quirked brow and immediate response of, "It's an old pickup in a dark garage. Cool."

Nudging her friend with her elbow, Mick stepped around her to open the door and snorted, "It's Butchy's. Now, come on."

Taken by the hand. Vivien was dragged into the house and pulled toward the kitchen, where running water could be heard just over the sound of Chubby Checker's song The Twist that played over the radio. As she came to a stop, Vivien felt a smile split her face as she took in the striped wallpaper and yellow cabinets, the vibrant colors of the room making it feel even more inviting than she thought it would. Tilting so she could see around Mick, Vivien held in a laugh with a hand over her mouth as Butchy turned off the faucet, and Lela's voice could be heard as she danced to the music beside him. It wasn't until the music came to an end and the radio host began speaking about the next song that the raven-haired girl noticed the new figures in her house.

Lela jumped and pressed a hand to her chest, her instinctive reaction to cuss out her sister-in-law cut short as she spotted the taller brunette standing behind Mick. Letting out a screech so shrill Butchy flinched behind her, Lela rocketed forward, all but shoving Mick out of the way in order to wrap her arms around her younger friend. Rocking Vivien from one side to the other, Lela excitedly asked, "What are you doing here?!"

"It's spring break back home," Vivien explained as Lela moved back just enough to squish her cheeks in her hands. With her lips resembling that of a goldfish, Vivien continued, "I wanted to surprise everyone."

Prying his sister's hands away from the sixteen-year-old's face, Butchy smiled, "If this is anything to go by, I think Royce might end up having a heart attack when he sees you."

"Let's hope not," Vivien chuckled somewhat nervously. "I don't particularly feel like killing him."

"Sure," Butchy chortled sarcastically. "You know, I've seen some of those crime shows you love so much, piccola. You'd be arrested in an instant if you tried to kill anyone."

Smirking, Vivien said, "First of all, I watch those enough to know how to not get caught at this point. And, second, one of these days, I'm going to figure out what you're calling me, big guy."

"I'm sure you will," Butchy grinned, allowing the girl to step forward and bring her arms around him as he ruffled her hair. "It's good to see you again, Viv."

Staring accusatorily at the man as she took a step back, Vivien asked, "Is the swear jar still in place here?"

Confused as to what that had to do with him being glad to see her, Butchy slowly nodded, "Yeah, why?"

"In that case," Vivien huffed, "I'd say it's nice to see you too, but maybe I shouldn't just yet."

"Oh yeah?" Butchy questioned. "Just because of the swear jar?"

"Mhm," Vivien nodded. "You keep that thing in place and I'll be broke by the end of my first week here."

Butchy chuckled, but before he could formulate a response to Vivien's jab, Lela spoke up, "You're staying for more than a week?"

Turning to the shorter girl, Vivien shrugged, "I was hoping to, if that's alright."

Mick chuckled as she began pulling things from the refrigerator, "She is. I don't think her staying is the problem."

"What do you mean?" Lela wondered.

Butchy stepped up to the counter to help Mick make breakfast before answering, "After letting the boys know she's here, it'll be nearly impossible for them to let her return home."

Lela breathed a noise of understanding before taking Vivien's hands and saying, "We need you to look as normal as possible before you go see the boys. How do you feel about borrowing something of mine?"

Smiling, Vivien nodded, "You're the boss."

As Lela let out a noise of excitement and began pulling her away, Butchy called out, "See you in three hours."

Vivien barely got the chance to look around on her way up to Lela's room, pulled up the stairs faster than she thought humanly possible as Lela began babbling about all the things she wanted to do with the younger girl. Although the girl's excitement was evident, Vivien couldn't help but feel astonished at how fast Lela could talk when she was happy. As Lela pulled her into her bedroom, Vivien couldn't help but look around in wonder at how different it was from the movie. Despite everything looking fairly similar, there were touches of modernity that stood out against the mid-century style of the room - pictures from modern times that had made it back in the girl's luggage, an old iPod Vivien was sure Mick had given her, and some items strewn about that Vivien recalled seeing the older girl buy in her world.

Before Vivien could ask her about anything she saw, Lela pulled her over to the closet, where she revealed a room that had Vivien convinced she had somehow ended up transported to Mia Thermopolis's closet from the second Princess Diaries movie. Two plush chairs sat against the far wall, racks of clothes illuminated by little dome lights lined the walls, and shelves of shoes and accessories filled the empty space. Lela scanned the racks of clothing as Vivien looked around in wonder, picking up a pair of oversized sunglasses with a smile before setting them down and moving on to the shoes.

Moving with practice ease through her color-coordinated clothing, Lela pulled clothes down by their hangers and began stacking them on her chair. Once she felt satisfied by the selection she had laid out, Lela turned to Vivien and smiled as the girl looked at herself in the mirror with a pair of elbow-length gloves, cat-eye sunglasses, and a large sunhat that flopped in front of her face. Stepping up behind the girl, Lela said, "Time to play dress-up."

Vivien giggled, pulling the sunhat off of her head and lowering the sunglasses as she said, "I think I already am."

"And you look fabulous," Lela claimed with a smile before stepping aside and gesturing to the clothes on one of her chairs. "However, I put aside some clothes for you to try on."

"Ooh," Vivien sang as she turned around, setting her accessories aside in favor of the large pile. As Lela began setting things in their rightful places, Vivien picked through the clothing and quickly found herself lost in the myriad of colors, fabrics, and styles. "You want me try on all of this?"

Lela glanced at the dainty watch on her wrist that her uncle had gifted her for her birthday before answering, "Well, I think we'll only have time for a few before they bring us something to eat, but yeah."

Shifting a pair of shorts onto the arm of the chair, Vivien mused, "I'm surprised you didn't want me in a dress today."

"Normally," Lela began as she made up the distance between herself and the brunette, "I would have, but where most of my dresses would be far too short on you, I figured we could make up for that at the shops later. For now, I figured pedal pushers, tees, and some shorts would be more comfortable for you."

"You're definitely not wrong," Vivien smiled. Turning to the older girl, she asked, "Where should I try these on?"

"Right here," Lela beamed, unhooking a curtain from the wall and letting it fall between herself and Vivien. "If you find anything you feel suits you for the day, let me know and I'll come help you look for accessories. In the meantime, I'll be doing my morning skincare."

Excitement flowed through her like an ice-cold drink on a hot summer day, and Vivien thanked Lela before turning toward her pile of clothing and sorting through everything. Setting aside bottoms she could put together with various tops, Vivien began picking out options and trying them on, examining her reflection before trying on something new. After trying on different outfits for a while, Vivien finally settled on one - a pair of striped, white and lavender shorts with a matching purple tank top that covered far more skin than that of the tank tops back home. Lela was quick to offer assistance with the rest of the outfit, deeming Vivien's classic, black and white, doodle-covered Converse acceptable before selecting a handful of necklaces and bracelets for the brunette to choose between.

Once they had taken a break to eat breakfast, Lela began working her magic on Vivien's hair. After making sure her bangs were separated from the rest of her hair by a curler, Lela brushed out Vivien's hip-length locks before pulling them up into a ponytail and securing them with not only an elastic but also a ribbon. Lela curled the very ends of Vivien's ponytail so that it all ended in a uniform ring before spraying it down with enough hairspray to poke a hole in the ozone layer and pulling the curler out from under Vivien's bangs. 

Grinning in disbelief at her reflection in Lela's vanity, Vivien thanked Lela for putting in more effort than she ever did back home, "I could never do anything like this."

"You could," Lela argued as she placed the cover back on her canister of hairspray and set it on the corner of her vanity. "It just takes practice, that's all."

"And far more patience than I could ever manage," Vivien chuckled, rising slowly from the bench Lela had practically shoved her onto. "Seriously, though, Lela, thank you."

"Anytime," Lela beamed. Checking her watch once again, she clapped her hands and said, "Now, I believe it's time we show you off to everyone at Big Momma's."

"What about Royce?" Vivien asked hesitantly as Lela began to leave the room. "Shouldn't we go see him first?"

Turning back to Vivien as she opened her bedroom door, Lela smirked knowingly, "His shift starts early on weekends."

"His shift?" 

But Lela was already on her way out of the room, a wink being the only response Vivien could pry from the girl as she followed Lela out of the room and down to the living room where everyone else was waiting. With everyone else decked out in their finest sixties regalia, Vivien didn't feel half as out of place as she assumed she would be as she followed them outside, where a blue Volkswagen bus waited. As Mick climbed into the driver's seat, Vivien was allowed the seat beside her, and once everyone was inside, they took off down the road. Taking in the sights of the beach town as they rolled down the street, Vivien found it impossible to wipe the smile from her face.

The look of everything in the area was so different than what she was used to back home - mid-century houses with slanted roofs and fun doorways lined one side of the street while small businesses with typically fifties and sixties fonts in their windows lined the other. Turning toward Mick, she said, "I think I'm already in love."

With a laugh, Mick's gaze flitted toward the brunette before settling on the road again as she turned into a small parking lot where a few cars and motorcycles had parked, the expansive beach and a large building with a thatched roof within walking distance of the lot. Confused, Vivien followed the others as they climbed out of the car, but as everyone headed around the building, Vivien found herself dragged by the wrist toward the back entrance. Mick held the door for her younger friend and guided her through the kitchen before depositing her by the refrigerator and telling her to stay low until she came to get her. 

Resigning to her fate of being stuck between the fridge and the trash can, Vivien crouched low to the floor, observing the people in the kitchen as they moved around, seemingly without noticing her presence. The smell of freshly cooked fish and baked potatoes filled the air, contrasting the stench of the food scraps piling up in the trash next to Vivien as she inched as close to the fridge as possible. However, as a blonde waitress entered the kitchen through the swinging door Mick had left through, Vivien found herself caught. With a hesitant smile and an awkward wave, the blonde neared the fridge with a tray and gathered colorful bottles of soda from it before placing it on a stainless steel counter and glancing over her shoulder at Vivien.

"Are you supposed to be back here?" the girl asked, a thick, southern twang accenting her voice.

Vivien swallowed thickly, offering a shrug as she explained, "My friend pushed me back here."

"Why?" the blonde questioned as she began popping off the lids of the sodas.

"I'm trying to surprise my boyfriend," Vivien explained. "I'm from New Hampshire and he doesn't know I'm here."

The blonde glanced around the kitchen, seemingly looking for someone, before settling her hazel eyes back on the girl crouched on the floor. Lowering her voice, she said, "Be grateful Big Momma isn't back here. This place is supposed to be staff-only after the soda geyser incident that happened a few weeks ago."

"Soda geyser?" Vivien repeated, mildly curious as to whether or not that had anything to do with the Mentos experiment she had shown the boys over Facetime not long ago.

"It was a huge mess," the blonde said before waving it off. Kneeling down to the brunette's height, the girl held out a hand and asked, "What's your name?"

Latching hands with the girl, Vivien smiled and said, "I'm-"

"Vivien, it's time!" Mick whisper-yelled as she pushed open the swinging door. Finding the girl on the floor and the blonde in front of her, Mick stalled, the gears in her brain turning for a moment as she processed the scene before a smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hey, Juliet."

"Hey, Mick," Juliet greeted. Turning back to the girl before her, she asked, "I presume that makes you Vivien?"

Vivien nodded, "And you Juliet?" 

"Guilty as charged," Juliet smiled, her teeth a blinding white in comparison to her peachy lip gloss. Pulling the younger girl to her feet, Juliet asked, "So, what's the plan? How're we surprising this lucky mystery boy?"

"Well, I was thinking Viv could go out and pretend to be a waitress to surprise him," Mick claimed.

Glancing through the serving window, Juliet asked, "What table are they?"

"It's Miles' little brother, Royce," Mick explained. "He should be on his lunch break with his brothers now, right?"

Juliet's wide-eyed gasp shocked Vivien as the blonde whirled around, "Wait, for real? You're with Royce?" When Vivien slowly nodded in confirmation, Juliet let out a soft chuckle, "Everyone thought he was pulling our legs when he said he had a girlfriend. Especially 'cause he said she lived in a different state."

"Well, he was telling the truth," Vivien smiled nervously. 

"I guess so," Juliet beamed. Turning to Mick, she said, "Anyway, I just got all their drinks together. If you want to head out now, I'll take Vivien here with me and say she's a new trainee."

Mick thought for a moment, but it didn't take her long to decide, "Honestly, that's a better plan than mine. I'll go back to my seat, and I'll see you out there in a few!"

As Mick hurried back through the door, Juliet turned to Vivien and asked, "So, newbie, are you ready for your first day at work?"

"I guess so," Vivien said, sucking in a deep breath. 

With a smile, Juliet took a spare waist apron from the hangers on the wall and tied it around the younger girl before picking up her tray of sodas and asking, "Think you can carry this to their booth?"

"I can certainly try," Vivien offered, eyeing the collection of colored liquids.

Once Juliet was sure Vivien had a good hold on the tray, she said, "Just stay behind me and don't say a word until I introduce you. The less chance he has of seeing you, the better chances you have of surprising him."

Vivien nodded, and without another word, Juliet began to lead the way out, holding the door open behind her for Vivien before leading her through the busy restaurant. Vivien didn't get the chance to look around much as they walked, more focused on not spilling any drinks than exploring. However, as Juliet stopped at a booth along the far wall, Vivien looked around, hoping to see some familiar faces among the crowds.

Clearing her throat, Juliet spoke, "Hope y'all don't mind, but we've got a new girl with us this noontime and I figured I'd show her the ropes while Royce here takes his break."

"That's fine, Jules," Vivien heard Miles say. "What's her name?"

"I figured I'd let her introduce herself when she's ready," Juliet said, glancing over her shoulder at Vivien before stepping aside.

Finally able to see the group in the booth, Vivien took in the look of surprise on Miles' face first. Miles quickly got Carrie's attention by squeezing her hand, getting her to look up from the menu in her hands. Cerulean eyes glittered like fireworks as Carrie saw the girl standing at the end of the table, and she hurriedly tapped Bentley's shin under the table with the toe of her shoe, making him lift his head from the crayon drawings he had begun on the back of one of the disposable, paper placemats. Somewhat annoyed at the interruption, Bentley lifted his gaze with a question on his lips, but as Carrie pointed to the end of the table, his question died, and his mouth dropped open, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

Before anyone could signal Royce to lift his head from his arms as he yawned tiredly toward the table, Vivien smiled at his tangled curls and said, "Hey, handsome."

Without bothering to look up, Royce decided that, since nobody else cared to speak, he would, and mumbled, "Believe it or not, Miles has a girlfriend."

Vivien fought down a laugh and said, "Believe it or not, I wasn't talking to him."

The first to pull himself out of his shocked stupor, Miles grinned and said, "Royce has one too."

"I don't see her anywhere," Vivien said, placing the tray of drinks on the end of the table. "Maybe I need a mirror."

Royce rolled his eyes, lifting his head from his arms enough to take his soda from the tray as he said, "Not interested."

"Royce," Bentley began warningly but was quickly stopped by Miles as the oldest of the brothers placed a finger to his lips and gestured for the boy to stay silent.

"Damn," Vivien sighed as Royce's forehead rested against his arms once more. "And here I thought we would have lasted at least half a year before you decided to break up with me, Rolls."

Startled by the choice of nickname, Royce's eyes peeled open, and through the corner of his eyes, he found himself looking at a pair of Converse with faded doodles on the white of the toe, but it wasn't until he saw the tiny ship charm dangling from her laces that he began putting pieces together. As he slowly lifted his head, Royce found himself frozen with shock. Sure enough, standing before him was his girlfriend, but she looked as though she had stepped out of a magazine. Her typical jeans and T-shirt were replaced with clothing he was used to seeing on some of his friends at school, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail he knew she would normally complain about at the end of the day, but she didn't seem upset by it in the slightest. Her round glasses caught the light above their table perfectly, glinting magically as the light above another nearby table casted a golden halo around her from behind. For a while, Royce was convinced he was seeing things - Vivien couldn't be in his world; it was impossible! She would have told him she was coming! - but then she smiled down at him and said something he couldn't hear over the thoughts running rampant in his head.

Swallowing as he blinked up at her, Royce softly asked, "Vivien?"

The girl before him laughed, and while that beautiful symphony was all he needed to hear, her nod dispelled any further doubts he could have had. Rocketing up from his seat, Royce lunged forward, bringing his arms around her as far as they would reach, nearly lifting her from the floor as she giggled by his ear. They stood like that for what felt like an eternity before Royce backed away enough to take her face in his hands, examining her as though it was the first time.

"Hey," she breathed, as eloquent as ever.

"You-" Royce cut himself off with a laugh, "You're real. You're real and you're here. How are you here?"

Vivien shrugged, "Magic."

Scoffing a laugh, Royce shook his head and brought her back into an embrace that she quickly returned. Looking over her boyfriend's shoulder at the group, who had now pulled themselves out of the booth to greet her, Vivien smiled and gestured for Bentley to join them. Needing no further encouragement, Bentley was quick to attach himself to the pair, ducking under Royce's arm as it came around his shoulders and smiling as Vivien's snuck around his back. The trio refused to separate until Miles asked for his hug, making Vivien pry herself away from her boys for long enough to give Miles and Carrie a greeting as well. Then, just like magnets, the trio fell back together again. This time, however, they separated after a minute, and with Vivien's hands locked firmly in theirs, the boys began showing her around to anyone and everyone who would give them the time of day.

Vivien couldn't help but smile as she was dragged through the restaurant, her face burning like a neon firetruck. As much as she hated being the center of attention, she tried to swallow back her growing anxiety at being surrounded by strangers in favor of allowing the boys to introduce her to the people they cared about. She was sure her growing nerves and embarrassment at being shown off like a prize horse would wear off over time once the boys began to settle, and she wasn't about to complain to either of them until they were calmed down a bit. After all, they had waited long enough for this. Besides, what was the harm of a little embarrassment? If it meant the boys' gleaming smiles never left their faces, she would deal with it a thousand times over. Catching Royce watching her fondly as Bentley introduced her to some of their and their brother's friends, Vivien smiled. 

Maybe - just maybe - she could get used to this.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

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:)

(almost) 258 for 📖 (x2 for the other ask)

---

Buck doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t know how to be. This isn’t… This isn’t his strong suit. 

It might have been. He almost got there. With Abby. When her mother died, Buck had been all in. He tried to comfort her. Was there for whatever she needed, twenty-four seven. Helped with the funeral. All of it. But he supposes, now, that it wasn’t enough. 

He’s never known how to be enough. 

“Uh,” Buck mumbles now, watching Eddie. Who he doesn’t owe anything. Who isn’t expecting him to be anything at all. “Let me know if there’s any extra support I can offer to Chris, okay?”

Eddie nods. “Thanks, man.”

And that’s it.

He doesn’t see a lot more of Eddie Diaz that year. 

2020

ix.

“Okay, you ready for the study questions?” Buck asks. 

“Yes!” Chris replies confidently. 

“The Statue of Liberty was a gift to the United States from which country?” 

“France!” Chris answers. 

“Nice,” Buck praises.  “Independence Day commemorates what event?” 

“The Declaration of Independence,” Chris says. “Duh.” 

Buck smirks. “Correct. In what year did the Civil War begin?”

“Uh… 1860?”

“Not quite,” Buck says. “Close though.”

“1861!”

“Did you actually know that or was it the next easiest guess?” Buck asks skeptically.

“Well, was it right?” Chris asks cheekily. 

“It was…”

“So I knew,” Chris says. 

Buck chuckles. “You’re trouble. But, trouble that’s ready for his American history quiz.”

“Yes!” Chris cheers. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Chris is still coming to the library several times a week. Buck has gotten pretty familiar with his classes and homework. He helps Chris more than any other kid. Not because Chris necessarily needs more help or isn’t getting it elsewhere. That’s not it. Just… They kind of have a good thing going. Buck understands how Chris learns best, and he has fun helping him research. From the fourth grade equivalent of a book report, to a science project on bugs, and now, for basic American history. 

Today, they’ve got extra time. It’s over half an hour after Eddie or Carla - or occasionally Christopher’s aunt, Pepa - comes to pick him up. Most of the other kids have gone home. No one has come for Christopher.

“Hey, Chris, who is coming to get you tonight?” Buck asks as Chris cleans up his history workbook. 

“My dad,” Chris says. “After work.”

Ah, okay. Firefighter shifts can be unpredictable, Buck has learned. You don’t just clock out in the middle of an emergency because your shift is over. You wait it out. Unlike the library. Which is closing soon. 

“He’s probably just stuck at a fire, huh?” Buck asks.

“Or a car accident or medical emergency,” Chris recites dutifully. 

“Alright, well we can be patient,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Can I read some comic books instead of homework?”

“Of course you can!” Buck says. “Homework help hour is over.”

Another half hour passes, and it’s time for Buck to close up the library. Chris is the only visitor left in the building besides Jackie. Jackie is an older lady who does puzzle books on the couch of the front foyer several hours a day without fail. She comes to a lot of the library’s special programming too. The kind that isn’t for families and kids, like author talks and craft nights. She’s pretty sweet, and always heads out as soon as Buck starts closing shop. Buck gives her a little wave, and she tells him to have a good night.

“See you tomorrow, Jackie!” He calls as she leaves. 

Buck gives it ten more minutes. Watches Chris reading comics in the kids’ section. Eddie still doesn’t show up. It’s dark outside. Rainy. Buck has heard thunder at least twice. He starts to get worried. 

He logs back onto the library admin computer and looks up Eddie’s number. He calls from his personal cell. It goes to voicemail. 

“Hey, Eddie. This is Buck. Uh, the librarian. You know who I am. Anyway, the library is closing and I’ve got Chris here with me. Just hoping to get an update on your ETA. Thanks.”

A few minutes pass. Eddie doesn’t return his call. He tries Carla. She doesn’t answer either. Buck doesn’t have Pepa’s number. This isn’t good. 

“Buck,” Christopher approaches the desk quietly. “Is my dad going to be here soon? I’m hungry.”

Yeah, so is Buck. It’s definitely past dinnertime. 

“I, uh… I haven’t heard from him.” Buck admits. “But let me make one more call and see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can order us some takeout.”

“Okay,” Chris mumbles. His voice is missing its usual spark of joy. He’s scared. Buck understands why.

But Buck has one more option. He doesn’t have Chimney’s phone number, so he steps away from Christopher for privacy, and calls his sister. 

“Evan?” Maddie picks up after two rings. “I’m on break. What’s up?”

“Hey, can you send me Chimney’s number? Or, like, call him for me?”

“Sure, but he’s working. He won’t pick up for a while. Why?” 

“Well, I’m here with Eddie’s son,” Buck explains. “The library is closing and no one has come to pick him up.”

“Oh, shoot. No one came? I guess that means you haven’t heard.” 

Buck’s stomach drops. “Heard what?”

“The call Chim and Eddie’s firehouse is at… It went kind of bad… It’s on the news.”

“H-how bad?” Buck asks.

“Well…” Maddie sounds nervous. “I don’t know for sure what’s going on. But I think…” 

“What, Maddie?” Buck presses.

“One of them, not Chimney, is trapped underground. I saw Chim being extracted on the news, rescuing a kid. There was a mudslide… It could be Eddie.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Buck says. Library language be damned. 

“Yeah…”  Maddie sighs. 

“Okay, listen…” Buck groans. “I can’t get in touch with any of Christopher’s approved pickup people. There are procedures for this, and I don’t like them. So… I’m going to break the rules.”

“What do you mean?” Maddie asks.

“I’m going to take Chris to grab dinner, and then I’ll drive him to the firehouse. Can you tell Chimney to tell Eddie? And update me if anything else happens?”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Maddie asks.

“Only if Eddie files a complaint.”

📖

“So something is wrong with my dad,” Chris says, over a McDonald’s dinner. Buck could have probably done better than this; but he had no time to prepare and it’s not like anyone has ever taught him to cook. 

“Why do you say that?” Buck asks. 

“Because if he was just running late, he would have called you,” Chris explains.

Buck takes a sip of his Coke. He doesn’t know how to handle this. This kid lost his mother not even a full year ago. He’s probably terrified of losing his dad, too. 

“Well, okay, Chris… Something is going on.”

Chris pauses, midway through reaching for a chicken nugget. 

“What is it?” Chris asks. 

“Well, you know how my sister works for 9-1-1?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. 

“She says that your dad’s firehouse responded to a pretty scary call,” Buck explains. “So he’s out there being a brave hero right now. And that might take a while.”

Chris sighs. “Okay.”

“Are you still okay to hang out with me until we hear from him?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. “Yeah. Thank you for the Happy Meal.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Buck says. 

📖

He gets the call from Chimney an hour later. They’re in the car, driving to the fire station. 

“Hey, man. Maddie says you have Christopher?” Chimney says when Buck answers the phone.

“Yeah, I do. Uh, you’re on speaker. I’m driving to you. Chris is in the backseat. He can hear you, okay?”

“Uh, okay. Hey, Chris. How’s it going, buddy?” 

“It’s good. Buck bought me chicken nuggets,” Chris says.

“Oh, that’s great, kid,” Chim replies.

“Uh, so, h-how is Eddie?” Buck interjects.

Chim takes a moment to reply. 

“Well, listen. He’s okay. But it was a hard call. And Eddie… Your dad, Chris, he was… He was underground for longer than we would have liked. He had some trouble getting out. So he’s pretty cold and a little banged up. But he’s gonna be just fine.”

Buck feels a wave of relief.

“That’s great, Chim,” he exhales. “Thanks, man. We’re on our way. We cool to stop by the firehouse?”

“Yeah. We’re on our way back, too. I think Eddie would really like to see Chris.” 

“I want to see my dad!” Chris exclaims. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Buck promises.

[b-lightwalker]

FNaF Movie Ramble

Long story short, I really like the movie, I really like Mike, Vanessa, and Abby, and I want them to be happy.

There be spoilers beyond this point.

I love the little found family that started forming between Vanessa with Mike and Abby. I know it hasn't gone anywhere yet, but we all know the signs. Please, Mr. Cawthon, let Vanessa take on an older sister/mother figure role like Mike.

I love how Mike has a roundabout way of talking when he's being emotional. He doesn't just say, "I love you," or, "Thank you," to Abby and Vanessa respectively, he rambles and goes on whole tangents about why he feels that way and it works. It works so good. And I am also talking about game Mike.

I love how William was handled. I was surprised he didn't get a lot of screen time, but it works. William is a behind-the-scenes guy. It's not until he comes on stage, front and center, that you realize what he's been doing this whole time. And the scenes he is in, he kinda steals the show. I didn't expect William to have an outburst near the end when the animatronics started turning on him, but of course he would. In his eyes, he made them better than they were ever going to be alive, and not even seconds ago, they considered him a friend. And the sheer confidence of this man to put the Spring Bonnie head back on while actively being spring locked is insane. (Anyone else think William may have forced Vanessa to learn how to treat wounds for whenever he had issues with the spring lock suit?)

William giving a young Vanessa the toys from his victims makes me wonder if game William did the same. Of course, when game William started killing, his kids were long since dead, but still. Imagine, Michael going into his siblings' rooms that aren't touched unless they're being cleaned, and he starts seeing these toys that don't belong to Elizabeth and Evan, but they look like toys they'd like. At first, Michael ignores it, thinking he just didn't notice it at first, even though he knows. He knows everything that's supposed to be in that room and he knows those toys aren't supposed to be there. Eventually, he asks William and he just says he bought them 'cause they reminded him of Ev and Liz. It doesn't 100% work for Mike, but it works enough, so he leaves it alone. After all, people celebrate a passed loved one's birthday, so why wouldn't they get gifts too? Even if they just stay in their old rooms. Then one day, Michael randomly gets a gift from William. I can't think of anything better, so let's just say a cassette tape for his Walkman. It's a tape that Michael would actually listen to, and it's relatively new, so Michael's confused why it's just the tape and no case, but since a gift means a good day, he doesn't question it. At least, not out loud anyway.

I wonder what happened to Aunt Jane. I know she was most likely killed by Golden Freddy, but there's a chance Mike brought her to the hospital and neither him or Abby are visiting 'cause neither of them like her. Imagine your niece and nephew visiting the hospital almost every day, but to see someone who is borderline a stranger to them and not you. I'm absolutely "making" a game counterpart to Aunt Jane, though. She's William's younger sister and she's almost as vile and manipulative. Just not keen on murder. Directly, anyway. Though in the games, she wouldn't have a trigger to want to get rid of someone like she does in the movie, but if she did have one, she'd be willing to kill. Maybe she could talk William into it. She still smells like cigarettes and is the reason the Afton kids hate the smell.

I initially thought Garrett was Abby's imaginary friend, but--save for the fact that it was essentially deconfirmed--it wouldn't make sense for Garrett to haunt his sister and not his brother who he would've known was kind of losing his mind from the trauma of his kidnapping. In any case, I'm currently going with the theory that Garrett is the Puppet and the one behind the "Come find me." message at the end of the credits. We'll see.

Since FNaF 2 is a prequel, I wonder if the FNaF 2 movie will also be a prequel. And if so, will Jeremiah be our protag? I know he was probably just a reference to Jeremy Fitzgerald and nothing more, but if he's not, then game Jeremiah and game Mike are work buddies. And if he is movie Jeremy Fitzgerald, I wonder if he wanted the dream theory book Mike has because he also had weird dreams while working at Freddy's. Maybe. Maybe not.

Tutorial Lady/VHS Lady/Kim and Phone Guy are totally married and their kids are Phone Dude and Tape Girl.

I know Mike being an Afton is basically impossible now, but if another twist is Mike and Vanessa are twins or related in some way, and Mike was given up while Vanessa was kept, I'd be 110% down. Then it'd be found family in the most literal sense. It doesn't 100% work, sure, but it'd be neat. (Imagine recognizing the son you gave up 'cause you recognized his last name 'cause you killed his brother.)

In any case, I really love this movie, and I want Mike, Vanessa, and Abby to be happy. Family dynamic, please, Mr. Cawthon.

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's (Movie Review, Part 1)

I had finally watched the Five Nights at Freddy's movie, and I the only thing I have to say about it is...

I LOVE IT! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

Honestly, this movie was everything I, as a FNaF Fan, could ask for. I will admit that there were some things that were missing that I wanted to see, mainly due to changes in the script and the characters, but as a movie adaptation of one of my favorite video games, there was barely anything I could find to complain about.

Like, I don't know what movie the critics have been watching to call this movie mediocre or bad or whatever, because it was far from that. Objectively, it wasn't peak perfection, but I personally adored every second of it. I believe that the criticism surrounding this movie is just another Super Mario movie situation, where the critics cannot handle a movie that gives fans exactly what they wanted.

While I cannot speak for non-FNaF fans, since I've been with the franchise since its humble origins, I do believe that FNaF Fans will love this movie and enjoy it. This movie is a love letter to the fans and it shows.

Now, this was the non-spoiler review. Below, I'll add the spoiler review because I need to talk about my favorite moments from the movie.

If you haven't watched the movie yet, you can skip it.

MOVIE SPOILERS!!!

Oh, boy, where do I start even?! *rubs hands gleefully*

I suppose I'll start with the main characters, Michael ''Mike'' Schmidt and Abby Schmidt.

I genuinely enjoyed their characters in the movie and I loved their brother-sister dynamic (as someone who has younger siblings, they definitely nailed that part). Mike is a very relatable character, having to step up as a guardian for Abby while also clearly processing his own grief in regards to losing his younger brother, Garrett Schmidt and his parents.

He is doing his best to protect his sister and solve the mystery behind his brother's disappearance, acknowledging that he is flawed, yet loves his sister. Once he is given the job as a night guard at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place, he not only learns about the Missing Children Incident, but also hopes that the Ghost Children could help him learn more about his brother's abductor. It is clear that he feels guilt for letting his brother getting kidnapped, because he was supposed to watch over him, yet got distracted, and now he is obsessed with fixing the past.

The one scene that made me incredibly emotional was when Mike started dreaming of his family again and the Ghost Children offered him to reunite with them in his dreams in exchange for something Mike would give them. Mike, in a moment of weakness, promises them anything, just to be together with his family, only to realize that he made a huge mistake when he learns that he gave them Abby in return, and he immediately regrets his actions and tries to save her. I believe that this is also the moment where he finally let's go of the past, because he needs to focus on the present and on Abby.

Speaking of Abby, she's definitely having the best time in her life being friends with a bunch of haunted animatronics, and honestly, I'd love to switch places with her (and yes, I know what happens later on, but we'll get to it).

Note, Mike, Garrett and Abby, are clearly parallels to Michael ''Mike'' Afton, The Crying Child (aka Evan Afton, according to what fans dug up) and Elizabeth Afton, even though they aren't related to William Afton. However, the things we know about them are present in their Movie!Selves, with Mike feeling guilty over the death of his younger brother and being obsessed to make things right, and Abby, similarly to Elizabeth, getting too close to the animatronics and almost suffering being springlocked inside an animatronic suit that resembles Circus Baby (or more accurately, Ella from the novels).

As for the Animatronics themselves, I absolutely adore them! X3

These guys have SOOOOO much personality and are really expressive, and I knew exactly what they thought and felt at every waking moment, even though they never spoke, unless it were the Ghost Children. There were a bunch of little moments, like Foxy's humming and Chica's Cupcake being an absolute menace that I loved, but I did miss Freddy not playing Toreador March or the animatronics having the game screams. Nevertheless, I enjoyed every single moment of them being on screen, especially since I knew these guys were real and not just CGI constructs.

I also love how they just switch from being happy and friendly (especially around Abby)...

...to going complete Murder Mode around everyone else.

Seriously, the look Freddy gives to Mike clearly screams ''You will be the next to get stuffed into an animatronic suit.''

I also loved the animatronics hunting down the thugs Mike and Abby's aunt has hired to get Mike fired. These guys were the highlight of the movie (along with another character, but I'll get to that soon enough). I know some people complained about there not being buckets of blood and gore, but to my knowledge, FNaF was NEVER about gore or being a slasher flick. The veterans of this franchise know that the main appeal of FNaF is its lore and the trail of breadcrumbs and puzzle pieces we are still try to understand to this very day. If you want gore, go watch The Banana Splits Movie or Wily's Wonderland. Or any other slasher flick.

Also, screw you Balloon Boy, you both jumpscared me and made me laugh. Seriously, BBs appearances were hysterical. X3

Speaking of which, shout out to MatPat and CoreyxKenshin:

I definitely had a laugh when MatPat was interrupted during his Food Theory on lunches and Corey always getting the weirdos entering his taxi.

Moving on to Vanessa Shelly....

...or rather, Vanessa Afton.

Yeah, I'm not gonna skirt around this reveal, especially given people were interested to why a character from Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach, a game that takes place during the 2020s-2030s is doing in a movie that adapts a game taking place during the 1990s.

The answer? She is the movie version of Elizabeth Afton (whether she has siblings or not is unknown, but I doubt it; after all, Elizabeth from The Silver Eyes didn't have any siblings either).

I will admit, I do like that the movie combined aspects of Security Breach!Vanessa being the Reluctant Follower and covering for her father's crimes (or rather, not wanting to get involved with them) along with her knowledge of Freddy's by virtue of being the daughter of one of the founders. Unlike Elizabeth, she manages to defy her father at the very end of the movie, and gets stabbed as a consequence. Don't worry, she is alive, but also stuck in the hospital.

Also, her being William's daughter in the movie opens a huge can of worms for her Game!Character, given how Game!Vanessa (aka Vanny) is known as Vanessa A.

Now, let's get to our main attraction... in part two, because Tumblr won't let me post more than 30 images.

LINK

Five Nights at Freddy's (Movie Review, Part 2)