#the trail thing leading into the house and the stone patio

[ryuseitai]

look at my den though. its so crowded.. i dont rmbr when i deocrated it it wsa a while ago tho i think

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Adoption Day

Summary: In the days leading up to the reader’s adoption, she starts acting out over fears of her new family not truly loving her. In the meantime, her family does their best to ease those worries and instead celebrate the reader officially joining the family...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 8,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, fluff

A/N: The reader is 17 years old during this part. This part takes place in the week leading up to the reader’s adoption. Enjoy! 

________

“What about this one?” asked Danneel from a few feet away. You rolled your eyes and you heard her huff. “I saw that young lady.”

“No you didn’t.”

“There’s a mirror,” she said, putting the dress back.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. You wandered around and took a seat on the bench, watching her walk around the store more, off in search of the perfect dress. You stared at the floor and licked your thumb, wiping a smudge off your sneakers when a pair of brown boots stepped into view.

“How’s dress shopping going?” asked Jensen. You looked up and he had two plain dress shirts, one black and one gray, tucked in his arm along with a brown and orange flannel. You shrugged and he sat down beside you. “Y/N. You’ve been grumpy all day.”

“I don’t want to wear a dress and I certainly don’t want to spend an obnoxious amount of money on it,” you said.

“Y/N. This is going to be a once in a lifetime day. It’s okay to splurge,” he said. 

“You people have no idea how little people in the real world have. You spend hundreds on a dress I wear once and that costs more than people get for food for a month.”

“Do we flaunt what we have? Do we give you kids everything you ask for? Do the little guys get every toy they want when we go to the store? No. You want to sit down and take a look at our monthly budget? I can show you how much we could do those things but we don’t,” he said.

“What about this?” asked Danneel, walking over with a pretty light blue dress. You narrowed your eyes and you saw her frown.

“Go wait in the car. We’re going home,” he said to you. 

“Jackass,” you mumbled as you stood up.

“You want to go for your first grounding? Keep it up,” he said.

“Why is it my fault that I don’t want a stupid dress?” you said. You stormed outside and waited by the car, leaning against the hot black vehicle for about five minutes before they came out with a pair of bags each. You climbed in your usual spot in the back, crossing your arms and staring out the window.

“Phone,” he said before he started the car. “Y/N, phone. Now.”

“Why?”

“You were rude to De. You can have it back tomorrow.”

You stared at him. You’d been rude before. Hell, you’d done a lot worse. You were nearly eighteen. You’d seen them both be rude. It wasn’t like they were perfect and you’d already told them at breakfast you didn’t want to go dress shopping that day.

“Y/N,” he said, clenching his jaw. You held out your phone and he snatched it, shoving it in his jacket pocket. “No TV or internet either and you owe De an apology.”

“Sorry,” you said quietly.

“That’s not an apology,” he said. 

“I’m sorry for being in a bad mood when I had to do something I told you in the first place I didn’t-”

“Be quiet,” he said. You snapped your jaw shut and turned to look out the window again. He drove home in silence and the second you were parked in the driveway, you got out and headed for the back patio. You sat up on the railing and tucked your feet up, pulling your hood up when a gust of cool wind hit you.

Ten minutes later you heard footsteps on the decking and sighed.

“It’s lunchtime,” he said.

“I’m not hungry.”

“What is with the attitude today?”

“You’re mad at me because I’m not hungry?” you asked, turning your head with a glare. You saw his chest heave but he kept his face blank.

“Make yourself something to eat when you are then,” he said before he left you alone.

“Y/N!” you heard shouted, your eyes peeling open. You sat up and the sky was dark. You must have fallen asleep down on the dock. “Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes and got to your feet, walking out from the small covered dock and over to the base of the stairs.

“What?” you called up, his head shooting down. He dropped it and shut his eyes, breathing for a moment. “I’m still not hungry.”

“What are you doing down there?”

“Sitting. What’s wrong with that?” you asked.

“Nothing is…” he trailed off. “It is nearly six. You’ve had enough outside time today.”

“So now I can’t go outside either?”

“Did I say that? No. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to the dock, dangling your feet over the edge. Heavy footsteps came down the stone steps and you gritted your teeth.

“Hey,” you heard as the board creaked behind you. “It’s getting cold out and you have on a hoodie and leggings. I don’t care if I drag you up there. You’re going inside.”

“Then drag me,” you said, glaring over your shoulder. 

“What is your problem? I’m not a fan of dress clothes either. Most people aren’t. The second we get home, you can take it off. We’ll leave the tag on the dress and return it. What is the big issue I’m not seeing.”

“Just leave me alone, Jensen.”

“Kid, you haven’t been alone since the second you stepped in that house last year. Sit out here and believe what you want but you’re not.”

“Okay. How about we try leave me the fuck alone?” you said. You stared out at the dark water and sky, clenching your fists by your sides.

“Do you not want us to adopt you anymore?” he asked after a beat. “If you don’t want us, that’s okay but please just tell us instead of this.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you said. “Adopt me.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Or what you think we want?”

You were quiet and he took a seat next to you, resting his hands in his lap. 

“Y/N, have you been trying to push my buttons on purpose today?”

You didn’t move aside from to turn your head to the left away from him.

“Tall munchkin, look at me.”

You forced yourself to look in his direction. There was that understanding look on his face. He was always understanding. You narrowed your eyes and he frowned before you pushed on his back and he fell into the water.

“Y/N!” he shouted when he popped above the surface. You got to your feet and headed for the stairs. “What the fuck was that for!”

“See ya,” you said. You were at the top of the stairs before you saw him climb up the ladder onto the decking. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered hard. The water had to be decently cold and he slowly made his way up the steps. You were inside and grabbed some granola bars from the pantry by the time you heard the back door open.

“What happened to you?” asked De as he stared in your direction.

“I fell,” he said. “Later. I need to wash up.”

You skirted away to your room, De knocking at the door and coming inside quickly.

“You want to tell me what happened?” she asked.

“I pushed him in,” you said, taking an angry bite of the bar. She blinked and blinked some more, shaking her head. “Yes?”

“What is going on with you? You could have hurt him.”

“Hurt him? It was cold water,” you said.

“And it’s dangerous to go swimming in the river this time of year because of the current changes, especially near the docks. The rip tide goes right near the shore line,” she said.

“That’s not true. Why are you lying?”

“Because you were not teasing him and having fun when you did that. You were mean. You’ve been mean all day and I know you care about him and me and all of us. Why you’re pretending not to, I have no idea.”

“Maybe I’m tired with the charade now that I’m nearly adopted. It’s exhausting putting up a show like this all the time,” you said. 

“The only one you’re lying to is yourself. Do not leave this room,” she said. She stormed off and you lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how far you’d go with this.

Around nine you were reading on top of your bed, swallowing when the door opened and Jensen stepped inside alone. He shut the door and you tried to ignore him but he snatched the book out of your hands and put it down on the nightstand. You stared up at him before he took a seat on the edge of the bed and leaned in close. You shrank back into the headboard, Jensen narrowing his eyes.

“I figured out what you’re up to and this is one of the most idiotic things I’ve ever seen you do. You should know by now to talk to me and De about this stuff. But I get that the adoption is a big deal. A huge deal and there’s a lot of emotions tied up with all that. So you can act like a child, you can be rude and mean and try to piss me off all you want. You don’t get it yet. Well, you actually do but you’re testing us because you’re still afraid. That’s okay. This is a big day coming up. I understand. But there is nothing you could ever do to make us not want you. You could infuriate me and I will still love you. Love is always constant. I might not like everything you do and you might not like everything I do but we are always a family. I figured out your game and I don’t want to play it anymore. I don’t like when we’re like this. I don’t want you to think that there’s any possible combination of things you could do to get us to stop loving you. I forgive you and your behavior today. Please stop though and come out and say what’s bothering you.”

He sat back and you saw his hair was still damp, green eyes full of concern. You swallowed and looked down, squeezing your eyes shut. The bed shifted some and then you felt his body heat on your left side, occupying the other side of the bed. You remembered the Brolins and felt your face start to scrunch up. They’d never got so far as adopting you but you remember their son brought it up to them once. You remembered pushing back to see how much they’d actually put up with you. All you got was a shove to the floor and a transfer to one of your worst foster homes for it.

“Let me in that head of yours,” he said softly. “I can’t read your mind on this, kiddo. It’s too different.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, forming a fist and whacking your leg. He caught your arm and stopped you from doing it again. He took the other one too and you tried to turn your body away.

“You were scared. There is a big difference,” he said. “Do you want me to get us an emergency session?”

“No,” you said, his hands releasing you so you could wipe at your eyes. “No. I knew what I was doing. Mostly.”

“What’s the mostly part?” he asked gently. 

“Would you love me if I wasn’t good. I don’t like being bad but...if I was a bitch all the time, would you love me.”

“There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that could ever make us not love you. Even if you acted like that every day, I’d love you. Why would you do something like that though? You know we love you.”

“I know. But the adoption is next week and if you didn’t...if you didn’t love me all the way and just some...I don’t want a family that loves me just some, Jensen.”

“Where am I going wrong?” he asked, fixing your hair back behind your ear. “What can I do to make sure you know it’s always been all the way, just as much as I love your siblings and De.”

“I know that.”

“Then why-”

“Because it’s stuck in my head, Jensen,” you said, his eyes worried and confused, looking for some kind of answer on your face. “Until I get adopted...you can get rid of me. I know you wouldn’t. You know you wouldn’t. But it’s in my head and it’s gonna stay there until the papers are signed. There’s no getting it out. I’ve spent months trying. I’m sorry but I can’t fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and you turned your head away. “Kiddo.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, turning your head to his chest and burrowing into it. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, honey. If you need the paper, then we’ll get the paper. I’ll make sure you get some copies for you to keep too, okay? Whatever you need to know you’re ours, we’ll give it to you. You just gotta let us know what it is,” he said.

“I’m sorry I pushed you in the water. It was a dick move,” you said, sniffling some and getting his shirt wet.

“I told you before. I’ll take whatever you throw my way. I know this is more than just a day for you coming up. It’s a big life moment and those are scary. Normally it means change and change is scary. The only thing that changes to me is that hopefully we can get rid of that last bit of fear inside. We’ve gotten out a lot the past year. We did really good and it’s okay that there’s some left. But I really hope next Friday it’ll be gone,” he said.

“It will,” you said. He wrapped one arm around you and rubbed your back with the other as a few hiccups escaped you. “Sorry.”

“You apologized enough. It’s done with,” he said. “I just want you to be happy and safe. It’s all I want, sweetie.”

“I wish my head was normal,” you said, hiccuping again as your eyes stung with new tears.

“I love this head,” he said, kissing the top of it. “Your concerns are justified, Y/N. You’ve been hurt and betrayed before. I’ve dealt with pain and problems and life but you’ve gone through more than I have, more than everyone in this house put together. You went through all that by yourself too. Your head is only trying to protect you from more pain and that’s how everyone’s heads work, honey. It’s as normal as everyone else.”

“You never cried around your dad like I do when you were my age. You were normal. You broke rules and curfew, you didn’t worry about getting straight A’s. You were the cool popular nice guy at school and you had girlfriends and you didn’t cry with your dad on a Friday night when you should be out being a normal teenager cause you weren’t a freak.”

“I had a support system. From the time I was born, I never questioned if I was loved and taken care of. I skirted the line a bit but I knew right from wrong. I was a dumb average teenager. I was average and very well could have peaked in high school. I got phenomenally lucky. My parents weren’t happy when I told them I wanted to put off my first semester of college. My dad was livid until we came up with our deal that if I flopped, I’d come home and get a degree. I had support. I could fail and it wouldn’t be more than a bump in the road. I would be living some extraordinarily average life right now if that happened. You’re not average. You were your own parent. You get upset because the idea of failing is so ingrained in you that it’ll be devastating and there is no support system. It’s okay and it’s gonna take us years to get there but we’ll get there. The popular guy is normally peaking now and he’s gonna be the exact opposite of what you want in life. You? The smart cookies, the hard workers, the mature ones, you’re the ones that own businesses, do great things, have exciting and wonderful lives. I got lucky. You don’t need luck. You’re gonna be amazing all on your own.”

“I’m gonna be an architect and help with the brewery. How’s that amazing?” you said.

“Let’s lower that bar a little before you turn into Uncle Jared on me,” he said, kissing the top of your head again. “Think about it. You’re gonna be great at whatever you decide to do. You’ve been through worse. And when I was your age, just so you know, I did cry in front of my dad. I bawled in front of him. I was babysitting your aunt so she was about ten. I, being the dumb average teenager I was, ditched her, left her all home alone while our parents were out of town. Your uncle was in college at the time so it was just us two there. Well, while I went out with my friends, someone broke into our house and your aunt was there all by herself.”

“Did anything bad happen?”

“No, thankfully. They left as soon as they realized someone was home. She called the police and I came home around midnight to our parents there along with a few cops. I thought they were going to murder me right there. My dad said some pretty serious stuff to me. I was grounded for a month needless to say. My sister tried to make me feel better the next day but I didn’t want to, not after what he said. That night my mom took my sister out to the movies for something fun to do. I sat in my room, staring at the door with the lights off. It was winter so it was already dark out and I just couldn’t help but think how scared she’d been. I was supposed to protect her and I let her down. I let my family down. I lost it. I bawled, the hardest I’d ever cried in my entire life and of course that’s when the door opens. I was scared to look up so I put my back to the door and tried to calm down but you know as well as I do it’s easier said than done.”

“What’d grandpa say?”

“He didn’t say anything at first. He walked around the bed and sat down next to me and after a few minutes he told me I made a mistake. He hadn’t seen me cry since I was a kid so I was trying to look not so much like a mess and that wasn’t working and I was expecting him to do some kind of punishment like he would when I was a kid and he just kept looking at me and I had no idea what was going through his head. He asked me if I would make that mistake ever again and I told him no and started making all these promises and he shushed me and told me if I was never going to make that mistake again, there was no need for me to stay upset. He forgave me and I didn’t understand why. I couldn’t contemplate it. I wanted him to hate me as much as I wanted forgiveness. But he told me he’s not capable of hating me so I should take the forgiveness. So we talked a bit and I calmed down and he ungrounded me. He said I was punishing myself worse than he would have ever given me and it was up to me to decide when I was going to be done. So the next few weeks I stuck around home and eventually that friend I’d snuck over to was having a party, the same night my parents were going out. He was over after school that day and made a comment to me about leaving my sister home alone again and I lost it on him. He knew what had happened before. That fight ended our friendship. He was my best friend for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. My dad overheard that fight. He was proud of me and I was proud of me. I stopped feeling guilty that day. So yes, I did cry in front of my dad at your age. I’ve cried since then too. You’re normal but you’re not average. People get those mixed up sometimes.”

You nodded and heard someone at the door, a quick glance telling you it was Danneel.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just…” you said, biting your bottom lip.

“If Y/N is a little agitated the next few days, we’re gonna let it slide. She’s a bit nervous right now,” said Jensen. You saw her face fall and you smiled to yourself. “She wants us. Kiddo’s just a little scared we’ll give her back until we get the papers.”

“Never,” she said, taking a seat on the bed. “Anything we can do to make you feel better?”

“Not really,” you said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, I know-”

“Alright,” he said. He rolled off bed and threw you over his shoulder as you yelped.

“Jensen!” you said, clinging to his back as best you could.

“You gotta stop apologizing and I know the next week is gonna be long but we are officially going to start the smother session with some homemade nachos and cookie dough ice cream while we watch trashy reality TV,” he said.

“Jensen. She needs a proper dinner,” said De as he carried you down the hall to the kitchen. He set you down on the counter and frowned at him as he went to the fridge. “Jay.”

He turned back at you and you sighed again.

“Okay. How about homemade mac and cheese instead and then you can go relax in our jetted tub with a bath bomb,” he said.

“Tub?” you asked as he went to the cupboard instead and pulled out your favorite kind of pasta.

“It’s relaxing. Even Jensen likes baths when he’s stressed. Besides, you only have a shower in your bathroom and if you don’t want us to smother that’s fine but you should self-smother...self-care...you know what I mean,” said De.

“Can I skip the tub and just have the macaroni?” you asked.

“Yes. Go do something fun while it cooks. It’s gonna be a minute,” said Jensen as he got out a pot.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed-”

“Punishment is over. We wouldn’t have needed one in the first place if you talked so hopefully the rest of the week goes better than tonight, agreed?”

“Yeah,” you said, heading back for your room. “Can you put-”

“I’ll put the crackers on top and put it in the oven when I’m done. I know that’s your favorite,” he said.

“Thanks, Jensen.”

“That’s like, nice,” said Jensen the next afternoon. You raised an eyebrow and walked past the rack, Jensen letting out a sigh. “You don’t wear dresses. This is weird for me too. Mom would be better at this.”

“Where is she again?” you asked, walking past a rack of yellow dresses.

“Some charity thing for the daycare with the kids. She’s supposed to be meeting us with the three musketeers for dinner,” he said.

“So I got stuck with you.”

“Y/N.”

“The dress you suggested would be great for me if I were taller and going to Cinderella's ball, not a courtroom.”

“Well excuse me, fashionista,” he said. “Looked like it’d fit to me.”

“Jensen,” you said. “Just...find something not too expensive.”

“Good thing we went to a boutique store then,” he mumbled under his breath. You wandered out of the petite section and over to the women’s, finding some dresses along the back wall. “Try that one on.”

“What one?” you asked. He pointed at a red one and you bit back a groan. “Why do you keep picking bright obnoxious colors?”

“I don’t know. De does,” he said with a shrug. “She wears a lot of different things, you know that. I learned long ago to just let the woman be right in these situations.”

“That was very intelligent of you to pick up on,” you said. You caught his face in the mirror and grabbed the dress. “I’ll try it on but I don’t want it.”

“Alright. I’ll keep looking,” he said. You went back to the dressing rooms and found an empty stall. You smoothed out the material after pulling it over your head and frowned. You looked so old. You were already trying to remove it when you heard a bubbly voice outside. “Can I see it?”

“No.”

“Ah, come on. Your girls trips are no fun.”

“This isn’t a girls trip.”

“We got lunch and then went shopping. We’re on a girls trip. Come on. I’m impartial,” he said.

“Over my dead body you’re impartial,” you muttered. You fixed the dress and stepped outside, flopping your hands out. “Well?”

“You look beautiful,” he said. “So grown up all of a sudden.”

“I ain’t getting it,” you said. 

“Okay,” he said. He stared and you looked around. 

“Jensen?” you asked, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked and gave you a smile.

“S’not often that I wish you were younger. I don’t care how old you are, honestly. I just wish I could have seen the little girl side of you sometimes,” he said. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve felt more like a kid now than when I was at like, ten, so you’re probably doing something right.”

“Did you want to try the blue one on?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, forcing a smile. You slipped back into the dressing room and got out of the dress, holding it over the top of the door when he came back. He took the red one and you saw something a deep navy color pop over into the stall. “I thought you were getting the blue one?”

“That is the blue one,” he said.

“It’s nearly black,” you said. You grabbed it and started to change, the fit a little more casual and looser. You cocked your head at yourself in the mirror when suddenly a scarf was landing on top of your head. “Jensen!”

“I was wrong. You are fun to shop with,” he giggled to himself. “Incoming.”

You held your arms out that time and caught a black sleek cropped jacket. 

“Jensen, it’s not for a date,” you said.

“Entertain me. I’m paying for it,” he said. You groaned and fixed the infinity scarf over your head, fixing your hair before you put your arms through the jacket sleeves and hiked it up. 

“Oh,” you said, turning to the side. A box slid under the door and you knelt down, finding a pair of short booties with not too much of a heel. You wanted the shoes regardless of how it all looked but when you kicked the box out of the way and looked in the mirror, you understood what he was doing. You stepped outside as he chuckled to himself against the wall, his mouth snapping shut when he saw you. “How’s it look?”

“You look beautiful.”

“You said that last time.”

“You seem more comfortable in that.”

“This isn’t an outfit for a courtroom,” you said.

“No. But you like it. If we can’t find the dress today, at least we got you a nice outfit for going out or a school dance or whatever,” he said. “I know what you like. I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.”

“You would wear a black t shirt or black henley every day if you could,” you said.

“This is true. Let’s get that stuff as part of your adoption present and then we can try another store,” he said. “I got just the one in mind.”

“Alright,” you said. “I want to get coffee on the way though.”

“Duh,” he said with a smile. “I bet this next place will be just the one.”

“Jensen,” you said the second you walked in the store. “This is a suit store. For men.”

“There’s literally a woman right over there,” he said, pointing to someone looking at ties. “Also the women's is in the back.”

You followed him to the back of the store, Jensen stopping at a rack of business dresses.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“More appropriate at least,” you said.

“Stay here one second,” he said. He wandered off and you walked around a bit until he came back with some sales person. “Y/N, this is Mr. Wex. He’s in charge of tailoring here.”

“Tailoring?” you asked.

“Yes. Most items in the store are available for tailoring which we always suggest for the perfect fit. Mr. Ackles said you two were looking for a dress for a big occasion?”

“I’m sorry. Jensen-” you said as the man held up a hand.

“Come with me,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he rolled his eyes. “Just like him. I have something in the back that will be perfect.”

“It’s alright,” said Jensen. You crossed your arms and went with the man to the dressing room area. He went through another set of doors and returned with a white long sleeve dress. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to wear white after labor day?” you asked.

“You can pull it off,” he said. “Try it on and then we’ll make adjustments. I have a feeling the sleeves are going to be a tad long.”

You sighed and took the dress, changing quickly and walking back out where there were some mirrors.

“You don’t wear that dress to your adoption and I will,” said Jensen as you turned in front of the mirror.

“The fit is very nice. Just a few minor things aside from the sleeves,” said Mr. Wex. “Do you plan on wearing heels or flats?”

“I like those boots,” you said, Jensen nodding. “Jensen, this dress has got to be like-”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” you said with a shrug.

“It has pockets,” said Mr. Wex, showing you the one by your left side. 

“Alright, I like it more,” you said. Jensen chuckled and Mr. Wex pulled out a measuring tape. 

“I think we found the one then, kiddo.”

Thursday Night

“I didn’t-” you said, Danneel fuming as she stood on the other side of the counter. “What is wrong with you!”

“You don’t steal things,” she said, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t steal shit!” you said.

“Watch your language!” she said, your brother and sisters starting to get a peaked interest in the conversation from where they played in the living room.

“For the last time, I did not take your credit card!”

“It was in my wallet right when I got home from the store and now it’s missing. I don’t think the toddlers were using it to buy stuff online.”

“I didn’t take it,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I know you are...there is no justification for stealing though. You-”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” you said under your breath, just in time for a very tired looking Jensen to walk in from the garage.

“Why do you two look like you’re fighting,” he mumbled. “I’m too tired for you two to be fighting.”

“Y/N-”

“De thinks I stole her credit card,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It’s missing and it was in my wallet and it’s not like the other kids would know what to do with it,” she said.

“It wouldn’t happen to be your maroon discover card, would it?” he asked.

“Yes. How do you know that?” she asked.

“No reason,” he said, bending over and picking up some papers the kids had been doing arts and crafts on. He held one up, the card lopsidelly glued to it. She shut her eyes and he ripped it off the paper. “Listen up! Butts in the kitchen!”

The kids ran over, all giggly at the sight of him home for the weekend again, home for a long week actually, and he gave them each hugs and kisses before he was frowning.

“Does anyone know what this is?” he asked, holding up the card.

“Pretty!” said Arrow. You felt yourself simmer down some as Zepp said shiny.

“And who thought to use it in their arts and crafts?” 

“Why’s it not on my paper anymore?” asked Zeppelin. 

“Where’d you get it Zepp?” asked Jensen as he squatted down.

“It was in the paper mommy gave us for college time,” he said.

“Collage,” said Jensen. “You made a collage.”

“Okay,” he said, twisting around.

“Zepp. This isn’t paper. It’s important. If you ever find it, you bring it to mommy or me or Y/N,” he said, giving De a look. She still had her eyes shut and had taken to putting a hand over part of her face. “Okay?”

“Okay. Am I in trouble?” he asked.

“No buddy,” he said.

“Come on,” you said, bending over and picking him up. “I want to go play whatever game you guys are cause it sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen. You were still mad and he sighed, mouthing later to you as you dived onto the couch with your brother in your arms, getting a big round of giggles out of him.

“Again?” he asked.

“Okay, again,” you said, diving back down. All three of them wanted turns after that and eventually even you couldn’t keep up with them anymore. “Who wants story time?”

Thirty minutes later you’d finished up with JJ and pulled her door shut, sighing as you saw Jensen waiting at the end of the hall. He curled a finger at you and you tried to slip past him down the stairs but he caught up quickly and blocked the path to your room.

“Jensen. She thought-”

“No she didn’t.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Last Friday you were pushing us away to see how much we love you. Think about that. Think about the fact that De has been so excited to get that dress with you and do something she enjoys with you and for weeks you’ve been mean every time it comes up.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I’m saying maybe she got a little scared about how you feel about her too. She knows we’re close. You’ve been irritated with her lately and she got a little concerned.”

“She knows better than to-”

“So do you. But we didn’t get on you for doing that, did we?”

“No.”

“Forgive her. She made a mistake,” he said. He moved aside and headed back towards his room, leaving you there with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss my mom and I feel like De got so mad because I’ve been grumpy lately. As soon as you fly up to work, I just...I like having a mom again.”

“You think of De as your mom?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “It wasn’t like how it was with you. I was never afraid of her. Not like that at least. She was always safe. I’m sorry.”

“You’re allowed to get mad over things, honey. I was glad to see you having an all out argument. It’s healthy and normal and it’s what you do after the fight that matters,” he said.

“I know you're all tired and everything but can I talk to her?”

“You don’t need permission,” he said, waving you to follow after. You followed him down to his room, finding De sat on the bed with her head in her hands and a box of tissues beside her. “We have a visitor.”

“Damnit, Jensen,” she said, turning to the side and wiping off her face. “You could have told her to wait.”

“Nah,” he said. “Excuse me ladies. I need to wash up and then bed.”

He ducked into their bathroom and you carefully took a seat at the end of the mattress. She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the basket by her side, using another to clean her face again.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought...I shouldn’t have…”

You crawled over and gave her a hug, feeling how tense she was.

“S’okay,” you said. “I’m not mad anymore.”

“I-”

“Even if I get mad, I always love you,” you said. You felt her ease and she moved her arms around you, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Really?” she asked.

“Duh,” you said. 

“I love you too.”

“I know,” you said.

“I take this as a good sign?” asked Jensen. You turned your head and he was already plopping down on his side of the bed with damp hair.

“Yeah,” you said. He shut his eyes and you climbed off the bed when you heard him snoring already. “Is he really asleep?”

“He’s pretty tired. I don’t think he slept on the plane,” she said. “Too excited for tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you said. “I’ll uh, see you guys in the morning then.”

“We have to be there at one so there’s plenty of time. Sleep good, honey.”

“Yeah. I think I finally will for once.”

“So,” said Jensen as you sat on a bench outside the courthouse bouncing your leg like crazy the next day. You turned and he took a seat beside you, undoing the button on his jacket. “We should probably head up soon. It’s almost your turn in there.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, leg still going and going. You looked out at the street, watching the gray clouds roll through. He put a hand on your knee and you stopped, staring as he pulled it back.

“What’re you thinking?”

“You were never giving me back, were you.”

“Nope. You’re ours.”

“I wish I just got that. I wish...I wish I’d known I’d finally get picked,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “Nobody wanted me for so long and you guys...I don’t know how to say thank you.”

“We don’t want you to say thank you. We just want you to be part of our family. Entirely selfish of us, I know, but you have amazing bedhead and we kinda really love you. You want to go make this official?”

“Okay,” you breathed out. You stood up and went inside with him, finding the right courtroom. You slipped in the row with him near De and were quiet as you watched a little boy getting his adoption as well.

“If he can do it you can do it,” he whispered to you. You nodded and about five minutes later the judge finished up with them and was returning to her seat.

“Ackles family,” she said. Jensen nudged you and you stood, walking ahead of them as you went up to the table. You could feel your heart in your chest as they took a place on either side of you.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered, grabbing your hand. “S’alright.”

“I know,” you said, swallowing as the judge moved new papers in front of her. She looked at them for a moment before raising her head in your direction.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Y/N,” she said with a smile.

“T-thanks,” you said.

“No need to be nervous,” she said. “So. How old are you?”

“17,” you said.

“Your birthday is in a few weeks it says.”

“Yeah,” you said.

“And you’ve been in the foster care system since you were ten.”

“Yeah.”

“How many homes?”

“14.”

“You like these two?” she asked. You nodded and she smiled. “You really like ‘em?”

“I love them.”

You felt Jensen squeeze your hand and you felt yourself calm down.

“They good to you? Give you a good home?”

“Yes.”

“After 14 homes I would expect you’d know the difference,” she said with a knowing smile. “I don’t see kids your age on days like this that often. You think you got a couple of good ones?”

“They’re alright,” you said.

“Just alright?”

“They’re my parents,” you said. You felt both of them looking but you didn’t move away from looking at the judge. “They gave me my life back. They take care of me. I love them more than they’ll ever be able to comprehend. A year ago I was miserable. If they did all that in less than a year, I know I’m gonna be alright for the rest of my life with them.”

“Mom, dad, how’s that sound to your guys?” she asked.

“S’good,” said Danneel. You could hear the slight crack to her voice and you grabbed her hand.

“What about dad?”

“I’m okay with that,” he said.

“Let’s get this party on the road then, hm?”

Ten minutes later she was standing up as Jensen finished signing his name.

“Alright, Y/N. As of five seconds ago, Jensen and Danneel are no longer your foster parents and are your official and legal parents. How’s that feel?”

“I feel like I could have worn the blue dress,” you said. Jensen broke out laughing and the photographer caught it. You grinned and saw him take another as you heard some of your family members joining in.

“You did that on purpose,” he said as he settled himself.

“Obviously,” you said. The judge handed you something to hold and they situated themselves around you. A few more pictures were taken before you were heading out of the room, some girl around JJ’s age looking at a set of people with a nervous look. “It’s easier than it looks.”

She gave you a smile on your way out, waiting a moment for everyone that’d decided to come to filter out. Jensen grabbed your arm though and tugged you around a corner with Danneel and the kids, giving you a big grin.

“So, how you feel?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. “Very good.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” said Arrow. You laughed and she looked up at you, cocking her head. “Did you get arrested?”

“No, you sassy child,” you said. “I got adopted.”

“What’s that?” asked Zeppelin who was wandering off down the hall.

“Zepp!” shouted Danneel, chasing after him and pulling him back.

“Well it means I am no longer technically not your sister,” you said. The twins stared at you and JJ pouted.

“I thought you already did that,” she said.

“Nothing impresses these children, I swear,” said Jensen as his dad rounded the corner. “It’s an important day. Oh hey, dad. Can you get a picture before the masses try to take up all her time?”

“Sure,” he said, taking Jensen’s phone. “I got you a really good present, not to brag or anything.”

“I thought I said no presents.”

“We lied,” he said, holding up the camera. “Say cheese!”

“Well hello Ms. Ackles,” said Jensen late that night, long after people had gone home or to hotels or were sleeping on the couches around the house. You looked up from where you sat by the fire, watching the flames flicker. You were bundled down in your hoodie and a pair of sweats, Jensen carrying a small bag with him.

“You write me another letter and you do realize I’m gonna run out of tears at some point right?” you asked.

“You loved it,” he said. He kissed the top of your head and set the bag down by your feet. He sat down in the chair beside you, resting the two cans of beer from the brewery on the arm. He picked one up and held it over to you. “Come on. I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I’ve never had beer before,” you said. 

“We did something right with you,” he chuckled. “It’s a big day. One beer won’t kill you. You’ll probably even get drunk from it so that’s exciting.”

“You’re such a guy,” you said, taking it from him. You popped the tab open and took a sip, making a face for a second. You took another one and liked it better. By the third you actually liked it. “It’s good. I think.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “Just go slow.”

“Worrywart,” you said. You slumped back into your seat, enjoying the smell of the fire as a cool breeze tickled your face. “What’s in the bag?”

“That red dress,” he said. You peeled open your eyes and he shrugged, staring at the fire. “Someday when you’re older, you’re gonna want a dress like that. You’re gonna wipe him off his feet.”

“Thanks, Jensen,” you said. “I liked all of them. I was...I don’t think I’m gonna be scared anymore. I’m gonna try not to be.”

“Good. Except for bugs though.”

“Bugs is forever and always your department,” you said.

“Gonna call me to come kill the spider when you live in your own house?” he asked.

“Yes. 100% yes,” you said.

“That’s my girl,” he said, smiling as he sunk down and took a long swig. “De said you’ll find out about early acceptance at UT week after next.”

“Yeah. I got the grades. I just hope I did well enough on my paper. The architecture program is kinda selective,” you said.

“She said you don’t want to live on campus, you want to commute,” he said.

“If that’s okay.”

“You can live here forever. I will take every second I can have. I just wanted to make sure that’s what you wanted. We’re paying for whatever you don’t get in scholarships. From what your guidance counselor says, you’re looking at a half-ride already.”

“I’d like to stay. I haven’t been here that long,” you said.

“No, you haven’t. Been an interesting year,” he said. “Good year.”

“Yup,” you said, snuggling into the fleece hoodie.

“I’m not getting my hoodie back, am I,” he said.

“We can share? It’s fleece.”

You burrowed into it and he nodded.

“We can share. I want visiting rights for my vacation with De at the beginning of next year,” he said. 

“She still doesn’t know, right?” you asked. He shook his head and you smiled. “She’s gonna love it Jensen.”

“Fingers crossed. Speaking of that trip, I have a favor to ask. Would you be opposed to watching the kids that weekend?”

“I thought grandma and grandpa were coming down,” you said.

“They were but it was in the middle of a trip they were supposed to take. We said it was covered. Think you can survive a few days without us?”

“You trust me?” you asked. He smiled and took a sip from his can.

“We’ll go over a few things so you’re not overwhelmed. You can do it. We just didn’t want to take up your whole weekend if you didn’t want to,” he said.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Thanks. I think you guys will have fun,” he said. “Can I ask you something at risk of possibly making you want to go undo what we did today?”

“Well now I’m interested,” you said, looking over to him. “Shoot.”

“Why do you never talk about your parents or growing up with them outside of therapy?”

You shrugged and he returned it.

“You can talk to us about them. We would really love to know more about them and what they were like,” he said. “We know they were good but you treat them sometimes like a before it seems that you don’t want to go back to.”

“You know what I said in therapy.”

“I know what I said too. You’re not making us jealous or making us feel inadequate,” he said. “Talk about whatever you want to talk about, always. I just wonder sometimes.”

“How easy is it for you to remember before you were ten?” you asked.

“Fair point. I got more years on you though.”

“I remember some, not all of it. I don’t remember what they said to each other. I don’t remember what we used to talk about at dinner. I just remember feelings mostly. They’re good ones. Mostly.”

“The accident.”

“Yeah. My mom had a miscarriage about six months before,” you said. “She was a couple months along I think.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It was enough that they told me. A week later...it went bad. They had problems having kids they told me. They’d been trying a long time to give me a sibling they said.”

“I never knew that either.”

“I know that breakfast, the day of the accident, they talked to me about this, adoption. I was already ten and they wanted to know what I thought about adoption,” you said with a laugh. “They had no idea what was gonna happen that night.”

“If every parent could see every horror that was out there for their child, I’m pretty sure you’d never leave your room again,” he said. “So what’d you think back then?”

“I was excited. Really excited. My life seems very different then than now. I don’t try to hide them. I think about them everyday. I don’t know what to say is all.”

“You don’t have to say anything. You can if you want to is all.”

“I know.”

“That was very sweet what you said earlier back in court.”

“Jensen,” you said.

“Alright, alright. Enough sap for one day,” he said. “It really was a good day?”

“Best day in a long time. Well, second best day,” you said. He cocked his head and you shrugged. “Day I came here wasn’t that bad either.”

“You like us,” he teased.

“Oh shut up,” you said, taking a drink.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he said. “It’ll be our little secret.”

“You’re such a dork, Jensen.”

“I know but you love it.”

“You’re alright,” you said, finishing off your can. 

“Happy adoption day, tall munchkin,” he said.

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Back at ya,” he said. “Now about that present…”

________

A/N: Read the Oh Baby timestamp here!

[fayeimara]

Miya Atsumu || Solita

*Song Scenario | Inspired by Solita by PRETTYMUCH*

PAIRING. Miya Atsumu x you

GENRE. Fluff; A little angst, if you squint?

WARNINGS. Incredibly suggestive, probably sexual innuendos and references, swearing, implications of drinking, angst.. (from my perspective, which probably means nothing because I think I can't handle writing it)

The lavish, vast pool glitters under the sun, surface disturbed by the partygoers splashing around in the water without a care in the world. Atsumu stands at the edge, quickly checking over the various faces but doesn't find you or his brother among them.

"She's not inside." Suna's voice comes from behind him and he looks back to see the middle blocker walking back up to him. His usually neutral expression is disturbed with just the slightest indent between his eyebrow and before Atsumu looks away he catches the slightest twitch in his jaw.

So he's a little worried too. They both know trouble always finds you if you don't find it first. And at a party of this scale, it's an inevitability.

How did they manage to lose you already? You'd all only been here about twenty minutes when Atsumu and Suna decide to refresh your group's drinks and left you with Osamu but the both of you aren't anywhere to be seen now.

Backing away from the pool, Atsumu looks over past the green metal fence that blocks off the pool and its surrounding stone patio from the manicured lawn, crowded with people dancing to the music blasting from speakers that surround the entire backyard.

They'll have to wade in there but it's just as likely he and Suna might miss you entirely if you're in that crush of people. Where's twin telepathy when he needs it?

Suna's already headed over, deciding to try his luck and probably because they have to do something since neither you or 'Samu have answered the multiple texts they've sent asking for your location in this overcrowded fucking mansion.

The only concern is if they're wasting time by looking for you out here, but there's no way you would be inside, in one of the rooms, right? No, not unless you were in real trouble and 'Samu definitely wouldn't let anything happen to you.

So Atsumu follows after his teammate and pushes past the creaky gate to move onto the grassy area of the large backyard. Suna's already found Aran, at the edge of the crowd, and Atsumu walks up to hear him ask if he's seen either you or Osamu.

"Sure, just a couple minutes ago," The tall ace responds, "They should be hear somewhere."

And with that, he salutes them with his drink and moves away towards the set of double doors that lead into the kitchen of the house.

"Do you want to take the left while I go in from the right? Text once we find them?" Suna offers, already starting to head over to one side of the large crowd.

But Atsumu stops him with a hand to his shoulder, "Nah, I think we should just go through the middle. If she's in there, that's where she'll be."

Suna smirks and doesn't respond, knowing 'Tsumu's most likely correct. This time it's Suna following Atsumu as they wade into the mess of swaying bodies, thankfully, not as tightly packed as they would be in a different setting.

It doesn't take them long now, with the confirmation that you're here, to finally catch sight of you. You are, in fact, dead center of the crowd and steadily holding the attention of many as you sway slowly to the music.

As soon as his eyes land on you, Atsumu feels a burn take root and start to grow in his chest. It's not exactly the way your hips move, seductively swinging to the beat, or your arms held in the air as you dance enticingly to the melody, locks of your hair softly flying with your moves and the breeze. It's not even that it's his brother you're with, standing there like an enraptured guardian, holding both your drinks and watching over you while you dance with one of your friends.

What completely combusts Atsumu is that as you dance so prettily, the center of fucking attention with your unconscious sensuality, you're doing so in what is unmistakably his jacket, the material shifting with and sliding over your body, almost covering the racy black bikini you're wearing.

You're dancing there among everyone, yet somehow looking like his personal, intimate show, in the jacket he gave you to wear when you were slightly chilly after a quick dip in the pool but that you'd ended up just holding in your hand instead while you asked him to go grab you a new drink.

Torn between dragging you away from the beautiful spectacle you're making for all the undeserving fuckers to see but not wanting the incredible dream to end, Atsumu watches a little longer. He watches until the song spirals up higher and higher and with every rise he feels like he's falling deeper instead.

A brush against his arm brings him back to the reality of the crowd, but it's only Suna, passing by and moving toward you with a piercing look in his narrow eyes. Before Atsumu can even register what he's doing, he grabs his friend's elbow, yanking him to a sudden stop.

"What're ya doin'?"

Those piercing eyes turn his way, with firm intensity, and the fox-eyed boy responds, "I'm getting some dirt off of a jewel."

"Don't ya fucking dare."

"You're going to want to let go off me before I deck you."

"So what," Atsumu raises an eyebrow, "You're gonna go over and forcibly remove the clothes off a girl?"

With his hand still on Suna's tense arm, Atsumu can literally feel when his friend decides to back down and continues through to the kill, "Yeah, that'll go over real well, especially with her, don't ya think?"

Eyes narrowed on him, Suna bites out a low, angry, "Fuck." before turning away and shoving back through the crowd until it's swallowed him up.

Yeah, he wouldn't want to watch you dance in Suna's jacket either, if the positions were reversed. But you're not wearing the middle blocker's name right now, you're wearing his. And it looks divine on you, as if both he and his name were made simply for you to exist and finally own them.

Atsumu turns back to watch you, moving ever so slightly closer, mesmerized by your movements but even more so by the thought of you being his. He's trapped in the suggestion of the moment, watching you and dreaming, until your eyes open again, only this time on a twirl that ends directly facing him, and your gaze catches immediately on his.

He watches as your eyes widen in surprise for a split second before delight pulls your lips into a wide, joyful grin. He feels like he's been pierced through the heart and he only wants to dig the arrow in deeper. He wants to grab you and take you away from all the eyes watching you and he wants to parade you around in his jacket for everyone to see.

What he does instead is walk up to you, eyes never leaving yours once, with a wide, happy grin on his own face. As he nears, he watches your left hand trace a sensuous path down over your other arm still up in the air, stroking through your hair before brushing briefly and every so lightly against your neck, only to stretch out to him, him. He reaches out when he's finally standing just in front of you, to connect his hand to yours, and gently pulls it to rest on his chest before sliding it up to the side of, and then around, his neck, pulling you flush against him in the process.

All the while, you keep dancing, even as your other hand flutters down from it's summit in the air, landing gently to brush down the back of his hair, before meeting the first and intertwining together at his neck. You keep your eyes and smile on him as he slowly matches your pace and rhythm, moving both with and against you. His own eyes burn back into yours, even his smile scorches, more a smirk now as his hands slide down your arms, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, moving further still until you feel the material around you shift and then his hands are like hot brands, under the jacket you're wearing, on your bare waist.

Your heartbeat picks up, more than it already had when you opened your eyes to see him watching you with that familiar possessive, covetous look on his face. You feel like you're burning while electric currents simultaneously race through you. The music sounds hollow, as if you might faint, so you get closer still and tighten your fingers together briefly in reassurance that you're okay, before loosening your grip again.

Neither of you have looked away since the moment you first caught and held his eyes. It's incredibly overwhelming, this awareness, the delicate bubble you're in with him. And it lasts for an eternal moment, forever seared in your memory.

Atsumu still watches, as you finally break your gaze to close your eyes. Even still, he can see the smile on your face, a small, delicate echo of the happy grin he first received when you saw him. He looks at you, the entirety of his world, and thinks of everything he could and wants to be for you.

It's in that moment he decides that the things holding him back from making this dream his eternal reality don't matter. Dancing together with you amidst the moving crowd, with the sun streaming down on the two of you and the beat of the music wrapping you together in this intimate embrace, Miya Atsumu knows beyond a shadow of doubt, that if you decide to give him even the slightest chance, he'll forever be yours.

Meant to Be Masterlist .. if anyone cares about what fic this scenario might end up a part of...

A/N (moved from above) : So... I planned and started writing this as a Haikyuu scenario unrelated to my SMAU series, instead as part of a bunch of fandom scenarios I have planned inspired by certain songs on my playlist. I also planned and started writing this with a completely different idea for direction it was supposed to go, to a completely different ending. Now...

I'm literally heartbroken because I'm conflicted with what to do with this scenario... do I add it to MTB (it can fit for Pt 2 with some edits) or leave it as an unrelated short scenario? If it's a separate scenario (I do also have a 2nd part / continuation already planned btw) then... do I keep it just an Atsumu scenario (which was unplanned, he wasn't supposed to get so.. close with reader when he found her :/) and let my heart stay broken for the rest of my life, or just decide to make it poly too because it's easier to let everyone have reciprocated love than experiencing the secondhand angst for Suna and Osamu? Like... I don't think it's a secret that Suna comes just before the Miyas' for me but, it's like, just barely sometimes :'( Can I do this to my baby??? Maybe I should just do the same scenario but with different endings for each of them so you can... pick your character/ending??? They can all be happy in their own parallel universes? I want to have a good cry... Atsumu baby, why did you put me in this situation??

Anyways, if I haven't ruined it for you by now, please read and let me know your opinion(s). Please.

A/N.. again (If you ended up reading this garbage) : So this is not the edited version, please don't lynch me over any mistakes or choices. I might come back to edit or even completely overhaul this. I'm literally posting it to get an opinion from an incredible, life-saving, heart-repairing friend.

@delusivist

© 2021 fayeimara. All rights reserved. Please do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

[mldrgrl]

Could you write a fic where M & S go on a weekend getaway for the first time as a couple?

When the Cats are Away, the Cryptids Can Play

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13ish

She suspects ulterior motives from the moment he asks her to go away for a long weekend.  It’s April, so it’s probably too early for Bigfoot hunting, and she’s pretty sure there aren’t any Mothmen or sea monsters in the Poconos, but then again, that’s not her area of expertise.  Still, she says yes, admitting that there is a part of her that is a little curious what he’s got up his sleeve.  Ghosts, probably.  Or some obscure, local legendary creature.

It doesn’t even dawn on her, at first, that this is their first weekend away together.  Together.  She’s so accustomed to the sudden road trips at all hours and days of the week that it’s not until she’s packing her bag that it hits her that this is a weekend away for pleasure, not for work.  She bypasses the suits in her closet for jeans and casual sweaters, but packs her gun and hiking boots, still convinced she’ll be out chasing some kind of monster at some point.

He picks her up early, even comes to the door to collect her and her bag instead of calling ahead to meet him at the curb.  They spend a few minutes kissing hello, one of her favorite things about this new development in their relationship.  She likes that she can feel his smile against her mouth when she wraps her arms around his neck.  She likes the happy little moan he always makes when he squeezes her tight.  She likes the unhappy little groan he always makes when they break apart.

“All set?” he asks, grabbing her bag and hoisting the strap over his shoulder.

She nods and plucks a bit of lint from his sweater before running her hand over his chest.  She likes that she can touch him freely now, but sometimes she still feigns an excuse.  He tickles the palm of her hand with his fingers as they walk side by side down the front steps to the car, his subtle way of holding her hand without holding her hand.  They’re trying to be discreet about their relationship, not keeping it secret, but not broadcasting it either.

Once they’re in the car though, once they’re on the road and out of the city, he’s got the armrest between their seats down and her hand wrapped in his, occasionally bringing her knuckles to his mouth so he can kiss the back of her hand.  And he sings with the radio, softly and mostly to himself, but not something he usually does on road trips.  And she lays her head back and openly gazes at him.  When he happens to notice, he turns his eyes back to the road, but he grins broadly and squeezes her hand.

She’s been wholly unobservant on their ride, doesn’t know exactly where he’s taking her, and doesn’t know how he even got them there without consulting a map.  She just knows they’ve been driving for a few hours and now they’re stopped at a cabin in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

“We’re here,” he says, unnecessarily.

“This is it?” she answers, equally unnecessarily.

They stay in the car for a few more moments, observing the secluded little cabin and it’s wrap-around porch.  The trees are so thick around them that the sunlight can barely peak through.

“Keys should be in a lockbox on the screen door,” he says.  “Combination 2597.  I’ll grab the bags.”

Scully gets out of the car and breathes in the crisp, fresh air.  When she closes her door, it startles some unseen birds nearby and they fly off, rattling the leaves in the trees and screeching out their annoyance.  The porch is surprisingly sturdy, even if the wood is warped in spots.  It’s been well-maintained throughout the years.  She’s dawdled so long taking in the scenery that Mulder is already behind her and drops the bags down as she twists the right combination into the lock to obtain the necessary key.

“Oh…”  She gasps quietly once she opens the door.

“Nice?”

It’s a single room, but it includes everything that anyone who ever described a romantic getaway might include.  There’s a king-sized bed with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, a stone fireplace, twin window seats at each window, a squat round table nestled between two wingback chairs, and what must simply be described as the pièce de résistance, an antique, copper, double slipper bathtub adjacent the fireplace.

“I love it,” she murmurs.

“Good.”

She moves deeper into the cabin to do some more inspection.  There are two pocket doors on opposite ends of one wall.  Behind the first one she finds a small bathroom and behind the second, a narrow set of shelves and a rack with coat hangers.

“Thought we might go up to get lunch and then maybe order room service tonight,” Mulder says.

“Room service?”  She spies what looks like a menu on the table and picks it up.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a trail behind the cabin leading up to a main house.  There’s a cafe and a pool somewhere.”

“I thought we might be in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s a neat trick.  I’m gonna unpack and we’ll head up.”

Scully sits down at the edge of the bed and the comforter sinks under her weight.  She runs her hands over the smooth, white duvet.  Her gaze is drawn to the bathtub.  Their intimate relationship is still so new that just the thought of sinking into that tub, with Mulder, brings a rush of heat to her cheeks, and she turns her eyes away and watches him unpack instead.

“No hiking boots?” she asks, as he folds up his bag and stuffs it into one of the cubbyhole-like shelves.  

“No.  Did you want to go hiking?”

“Not really.”

“Should we go on up, or…”  He looks at her trailing her hands back and forth over the duvet.  “Did you have something else in mind?”

She actually has a lot of things in mind, but her stomach growls at the thought of food.  He chuckles and holds out his hands to her to pull her up from the bed.  With their fingers laced together, he brings their arms behind her back and bends to kiss her.  She tries to twist free, but he has the advantage and she stumbles against him and laughs as his lips tickle her neck.

“Mulder,” she breathes, butting him in the chin with her shoulder.

“Mmhm.”

“Feed me.”

He releases her after one last kiss to the back of her jaw.  They find the trail around the backside of the cabin with ease and move single file up the winding dirt path, through the trees, until they reach a clearing and a much larger, two-story cabin.  The cafe is actually just an enclosed patio with a handful of tables.  They’re the only two there.

Scully is pretty sure now is the time that Mulder is going to spring whatever ulterior motive brought them to this place, but instead he tells her a story about a camping trip with his father when he was in the third grade.  He rests his hand on her leg at some point and keeps it there, slowly drawing circles against the outside of her knee with his thumb.  She finds it so endearing she can barely eat her sandwich or concentrate on his story.

The plump and tiny woman who served their lunch brings them fresh baked chocolate chip cookies after she clears their plates.  They’re warm and softy and gooey and utterly messy.  Crumbs and melted chocolate stain her fingers and the corners of her mouth.  She wipes her hands clean and goes to clean her face as well, but Mulder stops her.

“Allow me,” he murmurs, leaning over to kiss the side of her mouth.  While there, he rubs his tongue over her bottom lip.  “Delicious.”

“Mulder,” she murmurs, trying to sound chastising, but her voice is too husky to come off as scolding.

“Cabin?”

“Yes.”

He tells her to wait just a second and leaves her for a moment at the door to go back to talk to the lady.  Probably getting maps to UFO sightings, she thinks.  There’s a rack of postcards and local guides next to the door and she browses them for something interesting.  She can’t hear what Mulder is discussing with the old woman, but he comes back smiling.

He’s handsy with her on the way back to the cabin, sliding his hands over her hips or shoulders.  She laughingly swats him away and they ‘accidentally’ bump into each other more than once.  As soon as they’re inside, he has his arms around her and is backing her up on tip-toe as he kisses her across the room to the bed.  He turns just in time to be the one to fall back, taking her with him with an oof and a laugh.  She has never been with anyone so playful as Mulder is.  Just another of the dozens of new aspects about him she’s learned in the last few months and come to enjoy and love.

Using Mulder’s chest for leverage, Scully sits up over his hips, her thighs tucked up against his sides.  He’s relaxed under her, unhurried, slides his hands over hers where they rest on his chest, and moves up and along the inside of her arms and back. She twists their fingers together after his third pass of this and he gives her a slight tug, pitching her forward so his hands are pinned to the bed by his head and she’s nose to nose with him.

“Well, hello,” he says.

“Hello yourself.”

He nuzzles her cheek with his nose and she replies with an eskimo kiss.

“What did you want to talk to that lady about?” she asks.

“What lady?”

“What lady?  The lady in the cafe.”

“Wanted to tell her the cookies were delicious.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Without warning, Mulder squeezes her hands and then flips her onto her back, straddling her hips.  She squirms beneath him and he tries to kiss her, but she turns her head from side to side and he ends up peppering her face with tiny kisses as she laughs.

“Tell me,” she says.

“Tell you what?”

“Is this cabin haunted?”

He stops and pulls back a little, his head tipped quizzically to the side.  “Why, did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“Then I guess it’s probably not haunted.”

“Probably, but not certainly?”

“What’re you getting at?”

“I’ve just been trying to figure out why we’re here.”

He drops his pelvis suggestively into hers and raises his brows.  “It isn’t obvious?”

“I mean, why are we here?”

“Well…”  Mulder looks back over his shoulder and then down at Scully.  “I thought you would like the bathtub.”

“Come on.”

“You don’t like the bathtub?”

“I do, but…”  She trails off and he tips his head again.  “No recent Bigfoot sightings?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Werewolves?  Lights in the sky?  Some giant, man-eating plant in the middle of the surrounding woods?”

“What, like Audrey II?”  He chuckles and bends down to nip at her shoulder.  “Feed me, Scully, feed me!”

It tickles and she chuckles, wresting her hands free to push at his chest.  “No monsters?  No aliens?  No conspiracies?  Really?”

“I know my track record isn’t all that great, but when I suggested a weekend away, I really did mean a weekend away.  So, I went to a travel agency, I gave the woman there some details, she gave me some brochures and here we are.”

“What kind of details?”

“I asked for the least haunted place she could find where no cryptids have ever set foot and no one has ever heard of aliens.”

She pinches his chest in mock annoyance and he feigns a yelp of pain.

“Honestly,” he says.  “I just asked for some place romantic and private, out of the city, easy to get to.  I saw the photos of the place and that tub and I thought, well that looks like Scully.”

“I have a perfectly good bathtub at home, you know.”

“You want to go back?”

“No.”

“We could keep heading west.  Try to investigate the storm hag of Lake Erie.”

“The storm hag of Lake Erie?”

“Oh yeah, they say she can spit lightning and swallow ships whole.”

Scully pinches his chest a little harder this time and he grabs her hands again to pin them back to the bed.

“You know I’d choose you over any cryptid any day, don’t you?” he asks.

“Even the Loch Ness Monster?”

“Takes too long to get there.”

“The Fiji Mermaid?”

“She doesn’t return my calls.”

“Bigfoot?”

“Oh now, I have to think about that one.  We go way back.”

Scully chuckles and then drops her eyes, suddenly feeling a little bashful for not having trusted in him when he said he wanted to get away with her.  But, then again, there was still one question he hadn’t answered.

“Then what did you want to talk to that lady about?”

Mulder groans softly and tips his head back.  “I ordered a dozen roses to be delivered with dinner tonight and I just wanted to make sure they arrived.”

“Oh.”

“Are you always going to be this impossible to surprise?”

“Probably.”

“Guess I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Did you expect something different?”

“Not at all.”  

“Mulder, I...I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“I’m used to it.  Don’t worry, I still love you.”

“You…”  Her mouth drops open and she takes a swift breath in.  He gives her a questioning look, but then seems to realize why she’s stunned silent and his mouth twitches as he forms words that don’t come.

“Oh, come on now,” he finally says.  “You know I...you have to have known by now that…”

“I do,” she answers.  “As much as you know that I...also do.”

He nods.  She nods back.

“More than Bigfoot?” she asks.

“Way more,” he answers.

Her heart stutters and her stomach flutters.  This just might be the best weekend away she’s ever had.

The End

[thefakejeffreyazoff]

‘He’s our Satan’: Mega music manager Irving Azoff, still feared, still fighting

(x)PEBBLE BEACH, Calif. —  

This is not Irving Azoff’s house. Irving and his wife Shelli own houses all over, from Beverly Hills to Cabo San Lucas, but right now in the last week of October it’s too cold at the ranch in Idaho and too hot at the spread in La Quinta, so he’s renting this place — a modest midcentury six-bedroom that sold for $5 million back in 2016.

From the front door you can see all the way out, to where Arrowhead Point juts like the tail of a comma into the calm afternoon waters of Carmel Bay. More importantly, the house is literally across the street from the Pebble Beach Golf Links, where Azoff likes to play with his college buddy John Baruck, who started out in the music business around the same time Azoff did, in the late ’60s, and just retired after managing Journey through 20 years and two or three lead singers, depending how you count.

(Via LA Times) 

Azoff is 72, and this weekend he’ll be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame alongside Bruce Springsteen’s longtime manager Jon Landau. Beatles manager Brian Epstein and Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham are already in, but Azoff and Landau are the first living managers thus honored. Azoff is not only alive — he’s still managing. As a partner in Full Stop Management — alongside Jeffrey Azoff, his oldest son and the third of his four children — he steers the careers of clients like the Eagles, Steely Dan, Bon Jovi and comedian Chelsea Handler, and consults when needed on the business of Harry Styles, Lizzo, John Mayer, Roddy Ricch, Anderson .Paak and Maroon 5. Azoff has Zoom calls at 7, 8 and 9 tomorrow morning, and only after that will he squeeze in a round.

The work never stops when you view the job the way Azoff does, as falling somewhere between consigliere and concierge. “My calls can be everything from ‘My knee buckled, I need a doctor’ to ‘My kid’s in jail,’” Azoff says. “I mean, you have no idea. The ‘My kid’s in jail’ one was a funny one, because the artist then said to me, ‘Y’know, I’ve thought about this. Maybe we should leave him there for a while.’”

Golf entered Azoff’s life the way a lot of things have — via the Eagles, whom Azoff has managed since the early ’70s. Specifically, Azoff took up golf in the company of the late Glenn Frey, the jockiest Eagle, the one the other Eagles used to call “Sportacus.” By the time the Eagles returned to the road in the ’90s they’d left their debauched ’70s lifestyles largely behind, but Azoff and Frey got hooked on the little white ball.

“Frey would insist on booking the tour around where he wanted to play golf,” Azoff says. “We made Henley crazy. Henley would call me in my room and he’d go, ‘Why the f— are we in a hotel in Hilton Head North Carolina and starting a tour in Charlotte? Is this a f— golf tour?’”

Trailed by Larry Solters, the Eagles’ preternaturally dour minister of information, Azoff makes his way down the hill from the house for dinner at the golf club’s restaurant. He’s only 5 feet, 3 inches, a diminutive Sydney Pollack in jeans and a zip-up sweater. In photos from the ’70s — when he was considerably less professorial in comportment, a hipster exec with a spring-loaded middle finger — he sports a beard and a helmet of curly hair and mischievous eyes behind his shades, and looks a little like a Muppet who might scream at Kermit over Dr. Teeth’s appearance fee.

His father was a pharmacist and his mother was a bookkeeper. He grew up in Danville, Ill., booked his first shows in high school to pay for college, dropped out of college to run a small Midwestern concert-booking empire and manage local acts such as folk singer Dan Fogelberg and heartland rock band REO Speedwagon. Los Angeles soon beckoned. He met the Eagles while working for David Geffen and Elliot Roberts’ management company and followed the band out the door when they left the Geffen fold; they became the cornerstone of his empire. “I got my swagger from Glenn Frey and Don Henley,” he says. “No doubt about it.”

Azoff never took to pot or coke. The Eagles lived life in the fast lane; he was the designated driver. “Artists,” he once observed, “like knowing the guy flying the plane is sober.” This didn’t stop him from trashing his share of hotel rooms, frequently with guitarist Joe Walsh — whose solo career Azoff shepherded before Walsh joined the Eagles, and who was very much not sober at this time — as an accomplice.

“This was a different age,” Walsh says of his time as the band’s premier lodging-deconstructionist. “We could do anything we wanted, so we did. And Irving’s role was to keep us out of prison, basically.” He recalls a pleasant evening in Chicago in the company of John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd, which culminated in Walsh laying waste to a suite at the Astor Towers hotel that turned out to be the owner’s private apartment. “We had to check out with a lawyer and a construction foreman,” Walsh remembers. “But Irving took care of it. Without Irving, I’d still be in Chicago.”

Azoff became even more infamous for the pit bull brio he brought to business negotiations on behalf of the Eagles and others, including Stevie Nicks and Boz Scaggs. He didn’t seem to care if people liked him, and his artists loved him for that. Steely Dan co-founder Walter Becker said they’d hired Azoff because he “impressed us with his taste for the jugular … and his bizarre spirit.” Jimmy Buffett’s wife grabbed him outside a show at Madison Square Garden, pushed him into the back of a limo and said, You have to manage Jimmy, although Buffett already had a manager at the time.

His outsized reputation as an advocate not just willing but eager to scorch earth on behalf of his clients became an advertisement for his services, a phenomenon that continues to this day. In August 2018, Azoff’s then-client Travis Scott released “Astroworld,” which debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart, and occupied that slot again the following week, causing Nicki Minaj’s album “Queen” to debut at No. 2. On her Beats One show “Queen Radio,” Minaj accused Scott of gaming Billboard’s chart methodology to keep her out of the top slot and singled his manager out by name: “C—sucker of the Day award,” she said, “goes to Irving Azoff.” Azoff says he reacted as only Azoff would: “I said, ‘I’m really unhappy about that. I want to be c—sucker of the year.’” In 2019, Minaj hired Azoff as her new manager.

Most of the best things anyone’s ever said about Azoff are statements a man of less-bizarre spirit would take as an insult. When the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inducted the Eagles in 1998, Don Henley stood onstage and said of Azoff, “He may be Satan, but he’s our Satan.”

An N95-masked Azoff takes a seat on a patio with a view of hallowed ground — the first hole of the Pebble Beach course, a dogleg-right par 4 with a priceless view of the bay. He cheerfully admits that he and his partners at Full Stop are “obviously, as a management business, kind of losing our ass” this year due to COVID-19. In another reality, the Eagles would have played Wembley Stadium in August before heading off to Australia or the Far East. Styles would have just finished 34 dates in the U.S., Canada and Mexico. As it stands Azoff is hearing encouraging things about treatments and vaccines and new testing machines, and is reasonably confident that technology will soon make it possible for certified-COVID-free fans to again enjoy carefree evenings of live music together; he doesn’t expect much to happen in the meantime.

“What are you gonna do,” Azoff says, “take an act that used to sell 15,000 seats and tell them to play to 4,000 in the [same] arena? The vibe would be horrible, and production costs will stay the same.”

He knows of at least six companies trying to monetize new concert-esque experiences — pay-per-view shows from houses and soundstages, drive-in events and so on. But he’s not convinced anybody wants to sit in their parked car to watch a band play. More to the point, he’s not convinced it’s rock ’n’ roll.

“Fallon and Kimmel, all these virtual performances — people are sick of that,” he says. “Your production values from home aren’t that good. And they’re destroying the mystique. I mean, Justin Bieber jumping around on ‘Saturday Night Live’ the other night without a band, and then he had Chance the Rapper come out? It made him look to me, mortal. I didn’t feel any magic. So we’ve kinda been turning that stuff down to just wait it out.”

In the meantime, he says, Full Stop is picking up new clients during the pandemic. Artists with time on their hands, he believes, “have taken a hard look at their careers— so we’ve grown. No revenues,” he adds with a chuckle, “but people are saying, ‘We need you, we need to plan our lives.’”

“IN HIGH SCHOOL,” Jeffrey Azoff says, “I wanted to be a professional golfer, which has obviously eluded me.” He never expected to take up his father’s profession. “But my dad has always loved his job so much. There’s no way that doesn’t rub off on you.”

The younger Azoff got his first industry job at 21, as a “glorified intern” working for Maroon 5’s then-manager Jordan Feldstein. After a week of filing and fetching coffee, he called his father and complained that he was bored. According to Jeffrey, Irving responded, “Listen carefully, because I’m going to say this one time. You have a phone and you have my last name. If you can’t figure it out, you’re not my son.”

“Direct quote,” Jeffrey says. “It’s one of my favorite things he’s ever said to me. And it’s the spirit of the music business, by the way. There are no rules to this. Just figure it out.”

Over dinner I keep asking Irving how he got the temerity, as a kid barely out of college, to plunge into the shark-infested waters of the ‘70s record industry in Los Angeles. He just shrugs.

“I never felt the music business was that competitive,” he says. “It’s just not that f—ing hard. I don’t think there’s that many smart people in our business.”

It’s been written, I say, that once you landed in California and sized up the competition, you called John Baruck back in Illinois and said —

“We can take this town,” Azoff says, finishing the sentence. “Where’d you get that? John told that story to [Apple senior vice president] Eddy Cue on the golf course three days ago. It’s true. I called John up and said, ‘OK, get your ass out here. We can take this town.’”

In the ensuing years, Azoff has occupied nearly every high-level position the music industry has to offer, surfing waves of industry consolidation. He’s been the president of a major label, MCA; the CEO of Ticketmaster; and executive chairman of Live Nation Entertainment, the behemoth formed from Ticketmaster’s merger with Live Nation. In 2013 he and Cablevision Systems Corp. CEO and New York Knicks owner James Dolan formed a partnership, Azoff MSG Entertainment; Azoff ran the Forum in Inglewood for Dolan after MSG purchased it in 2012.

Earlier this year Dolan sold the Forum for $400 million to former Microsoft CEO and Clippers owner Steve Ballmer, who’s since announced plans to build a new stadium on a site just one mile away. Despite the apocalyptic parking scenario that looms for the area — two stadiums and a concert arena on a one-mile stretch of South Prairie Boulevard — Azoff is confident that the Forum will live on as a live-music venue. “People are going, ‘They’re going to tear it down’ — they’re not going to tear it down,” Azoff says. “It’s going to be in great hands. I have many of the artists we represent booked in the Forum, waiting for the restart based on COVID.”

The holdings of the Azoff Co. — formed when Dolan sold his interest in Azoff MSG back to Azoff two years ago — include Full Stop, the performance-rights organization Global Music Rights and the Oak View Group, which is developing arenas in Seattle and Belmont, N.Y., and a 15,000-seat venue on the University of Texas campus in Austin. Azoff describes himself as increasingly focused on “diversification, and building assets for the family that aren’t just dependent on commissions, shall we say.”

But as both a manager and a co-founder of a lobbying group, the Music Artists Coalition, he’s also devoting more time and energy to a broad range of artists’-rights issues, from health insurance to royalty rates to copyright reversion to this year’s Assembly Bill 5, which threatened musicians’ independent-contractor status until it was amended in September. (“That was us,” Azoff says, somewhat grandly. “I got to the governor, the governor signed it — Newsom was great on it.”) He describes his advocacy for artists — even those he doesn’t manage — as a “war on all fronts,” and estimates there are 21 major issues on which “we’ve sort of appointed ourselves as guardians.”

He does not continue to manage artists because he needs the money, he says. (As the singer-songwriter and Azoff client J.D. Souther famously put it, “Irving’s 15% of everybody turned out to be more than everyone’s 85% of themselves.”) Everything he’s doing now — building clout through the Azoff Co., even accepting the Hall of Fame honor — is ultimately about positioning himself to better fight these fights. “I’d rather work on [these things] than anything else,” he says. “But if I didn’t have the power base in the management business, I couldn’t be effective.”

The recorded music industry, having fully transitioned to a digital-first business, is once again making money hand over fist, he points out, but even less of that money is trickling down to artists. That imbalance long predates Big Tech’s involvement in the field, but the failure of music-driven tech companies to properly compensate musicians is clearly the largest burr under Azoff’s saddle.

“These people, when they start out — whether it’s Facebook, Snapchat, TikTok, whatever — they resist paying for music until you go beat the f— out of them. And then of course, none of them pay fair market value and they get away with it. Your company’s worth $30 billion and you can’t spend 20 grand for a song that becomes a phenomenon on your channel? Even when they pay, artists don’t get enough. Writers don’t get enough. Music, as a commodity, is more important than it’s ever been, and more unfairly monetized for the creators. And that’s what creates an opportunity for people like me.”

AZOFF’S FIRM NO longer handles Travis Scott, by the way. “Travis is unmanageable,” Azoff says, nonchalantly and without rancor. “We’re involved in his touring as an advisor to Live Nation, but he’s calling his own shots these days.”

I ask if, in the age of the viral hit and the bedroom producer, he finds himself running into more artists who assume they don’t need a manager. Ehh, Azoff says, like it’s always been that way. “There’s a lot of headstrong artists,” he says. “I haven’t seen one that’s better off without a manager than with,” he says, and laughs a little Dennis the Menace laugh.

We’re back at the house. Azoff takes a seat on the living-room couch; Larry Solters sits across from him, his back to the sea. Azoff recalls another big client. Declines to name him. Says he was never happy, even after Azoff and his people got him everything on his wish list. “He hit me with a couple bad emails. Just really disrespectful s—. I sent him an email back that said, ‘Lucky for me, you need me more than I need you. Goodbye.’”

He will confirm having resigned the accounts of noted divas Mariah Carey and Axl Rose. Reports that he once attempted to manage Kanye West have been greatly exaggerated, he says, although they’ve spoken about business. “Robert [Kardashian] was a good friend of mine. The kids all went to school together,” Azoff says. “What I always said to Kanye was, you’re unmanageable, but we can give you advice.

“A lot of people could have made a dynasty on the people we used to manage,” Azoff says, “let alone the ones we kept.”

But he still works with many artists who joined him in the ’70s — with Henley, with Steely Dan’s Donald Fagen and with Joe Walsh. Walsh has been sober for more than 25 years; it was Azoff, along with Henley and Frey, who talked him into rehab before the Eagles’ 1994 reunion tour. “Irving never passed judgment on me,” Walsh says. “And from that meeting on, he made sure I had what I needed to stay sober.” If he hadn’t, Walsh says, there’s no chance we’d be having this conversation. “All the guys I ran with are dead. Keith Moon’s dead. John Entwistle’s dead. Everybody’s dead, and I’m here. That’s profound to me.”

The first client Azoff lost was Minnie Riperton — in 1979, to breast cancer when she was only 31. Then Warren Zevon, to cancer, in 2003. Fogelberg, to cancer, four years later.

“And then Glenn,” says Azoff, referring to the Eagles co-founder who died in 2016. “I miss Glenn a lot. And now Eddie.”

Van Halen, that is. I ask Azoff if he can tell me a story that sums up what kind of guy Eddie Van Halen was; he tells me a beautiful one, then says he’d prefer not to see it in print. It makes perfect Azoffian sense — profane trash talk on the record, tenderness on background.

I ask if he’s been moved to contemplate his own mortality, as his boomer-aged clients approach an actuarial event horizon. Of course the answer turns out to involve keeping pace with an Eagle.

“Henley and I are having a race,” he says. “Neither one of us has given in. Neither one of us is going to retire.”

Henley was born in July 1947; Azoff came along that December. Does Don plan to keep going, I ask, until the wheels fall off?

“I don’t know,” Azoff says.

Do you ever talk about it?

“Yeah! He’ll call me up and he’ll go, ‘I really feel s— today.’ And I say, ‘Well, you should, Grandpa. You’re an old man. You ready to throw in the towel? Nope? OK.’”

Azoff says, “I contend that what keeps us all young is staying in the business. I’ve had more people tell me, ‘My father, he quit working, and then his health started failing,’ and all that. Every single — I mean, every single rock star I know is basically doing it to try and stay young. And I think it works. I really think it works.

“I have this friend,” Azoff says. “Calls me once a week, he’s sending me tapes, it’s his next big record. Paul Anka! He’s 80 years old. OK? And my other friend, Frankie Valli …”

“Do you know how old Frankie Valli is?” Solters says. “Eighty-six. And he still performs.”

“Not during COVID,” Azoff says. “I told the motherf—, ‘You’re not going out.’”

[tidalsongprecure]

Tidal Song Precure! - Chapter 1

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Chapter One

A ripple in the waves! The heart of the sea, Cure Delphin!

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 “The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can’t.”

 Emotion is a complicated thing. There can be good, bad, and all sorts of in-between. Like the sea, there’s an ebb and flow to one’s feelings.

It’s what we do with those feelings that matter.

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Palm trees rippled in the wind, dancing in the briny breeze. The early rays of morn shone through the windows, welcoming her with its warmth. And blue...that endless blue. From the vivid hue of the skies to the constant ebb and flow of the sea, it was everywhere.  

 “You’re positive you didn’t forget anything Mom?”

The girl’s mother, Haya, eyed her through the rearview mirror. “You asked that back on the ferry Kyoko, yes we have everything . Now, relax! We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. After all, living on Yumeshima will mean more time together!”

 “I know, I know.” Sighing, Kyoko Koizumi leaned back into her seat. “I’m just checking! It’s not the first time you or Dad have forgotten something important…”

 “That’s a bit harsh Kyoko,” her father, Sora, chimed in. “Your mother and I are perfectly capable of keeping track of ourselves, thank you very much.”

“Right…” Kyoko directed her attention to the glittering depths just outside her window, the blue in her eyes shining just as bright. “To think we get to live here...it’s incredible.”

“Yes, it’ll definitely be a change, but I’ve heard great things about this island! Studying the marine life here will be amazing…” Haya turned to face Kyoko, a sheepish smile on her face. “I’m sorry this was so sudden, sweetheart, to pick up everything in Kirakono in a few months...”

 “It’s alright! Working here has a lot of great opportunities for you and Dad, so I don’t mind, honest!” Even with her reassurance, her mother still seemed worried, so she changed the subject. “H-have you heard anything else interesting about Yumeshima?”

“Well, your dad heard about some stories of miracles happening on Yumeshima I think?”

“Miracles? What do you mean?”

“Something about... strange creatures in the sea? He said he read about it in some article, but you know how he is. Believes everything he sees online.”

“It’s not like that!” Sora interrupted, Kyoko jolting in her seat. “There’ve been local stories and everything! You ask any of the locals and they’ll tell you!”

“I bet...Dad, watch the road!” 

“Oh!” The car swerved to the side, before skidding to a stop in front of a neighbourhood lined with cottages, the car swerved to the side. “Thanks, Kyoko. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably be in a hospital...”

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 Kyoko watched her parents and the movers file into their new home. It was pretty, she’d decided, with its white wooden walls and verdant vines trailing up the sides. It was positioned in the middle of the neighbourhood, and the dirt path next to the canal was smooth and fairly tidy. She stumbled out of the way as another worker bustled past, hefting a box nearly her size. 

“Looks like this may take a while…”

“Kyoko!” Her mother called her over, carrying a small lunch box.

“What is it? Do you need help moving stuff in?” Kyoko asked, stepping up onto the patio. The task looked a bit tedious, sure, but she wanted to be as helpful as possible. The sudden move was definitely more exhausting on her parents rather than her.

“What? No, no! I noticed you seemed a little bored so…” Haya pointed to the pathway leading into town, giving Kyoko’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Why don’t you explore for a bit? We were on the ferry for a while, and the car ride was a bit long too, so you must be itching to stretch your legs!”

 “Oh…uhm…” On one hand, exploring the island did sound tempting, and she was a bit stiff from all the travelling...but, she couldn’t. Her parents could definitely use her help and she didn’t want to leave them with all these boxes. That’d be wrong...wouldn't it? While she pondered this, muttering to herself, Haya slipped the container into her backpack -- complete with a dolphin keychain -- and gave her a gentle nudge.  

 “Quit worrying, sweetheart, go have fun! Leave the boring stuff to us adults.”

 “B-but…”

 Seeing she needed more encouragement, Haya added, “Think of it like...when you were little, and you went searching for those dolphins! It’ll be an adventure!” Of course, she had to bring that up. Cheeks burning, Kyoko rushed down the steps of the patio.

 “Alright, alright I’ll go! Just, please don’t mention that story!”

 “Yeah, yeah. Make sure to stick to the path! And be back by noon!”

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 “Why would Mom send me out here? Where should I even go?” Kyoko squinted at the map she’d downloaded earlier. “If I follow the path here, I should reach the town eventually…” After scrutinizing the map a little longer, she nodded and shoved her phone back into her bag. “May as well figure out my way around here, Mom and Dad won't be able to drive me around, so…”

 That’s right, she was fifteen now. She couldn’t rely on her parents anymore  -- not that she did , really, but it'd be best to be able to take care of herself, right? Her parents had always been busy with their work (marine biology was no joke), and as much as she loved how passionate they were, it did make spending time together a little difficult.

But it’s okay! Now that she was fifteen, she could really be independent. She’d start her final year of junior high in a few days, clean up around the house more, maybe get a job…

“They don’t have time to worry about me anymore.”

As Kyoko reached the town, she was greeted with the clean scent of brine. It wafted around her, removing any lingering fatigue from her body. The ocean has always had that effect on her, ever since she was little. A brief moment by the sea could instantly lift her spirits. So, instead of touring the town, she headed straight for the beach, kicking off her sneakers. Cautiously, she dipped her toes near the shoreline and allowed the water to wash over her. It was a bit chilly, but compared to the fervour of the sun, it was a pleasant contrast. The momentary peace was interrupted when a sudden flash appeared behind her.

“What was that?!” Grabbing her shoes and bag, she followed the flashes down the beach. The source of light came from a stony cave near the edge of the coast. By the time she’d neared the entrance, the light had faded. “The light came from here...I wonder where it leads.” Kyoko ran her hand over the rocky opening, about to enter when-

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

 She jumped, nearly smacking her head against the stone entrance. The shout had come from a girl behind her, fluffy blonde hair framing her face. Her light tan only served to highlight her sharp golden eyes even more, which were staring Kyoko down. She was barely taller, but she seemed to tower above her. Could demeanour really do that alone? After taking in her appearance, Kyoko concluded.

“Oh, wow, she’s gorgeous! But,  she looks pretty annoyed…”

“You DO know you’re not supposed to be in there right? Are you trying to get yourself hurt?!” 

 Maybe it was the heat, or simply the blonde girl’s intensity, but all the commotion made Kyoko’s head swim. “I, uhm, I think there’s been a misunderstanding I just…” she babbled out. By the high arch of the blonde’s brow, it was clear her words weren’t getting through.

Before the situation could escalate any further, another girl approached the blonde from behind, lightly tapping her shoulder. Her lilac tresses seemed to float down her back, and when she removed her sunglasses, purple eyes surrounded by thick lashes blinked curiously at them. Kyoko squirmed under the captivating gaze, shying away from the pair. Even her complexion was flawless and fair, seeming to glow under the sunlight. They were like...the sun and moon, she thought, with their unique radiance.

“She’s beautiful as well! What I’d give to look like that...”

“Emi, I heard shouting, is everything alright?” The girl finally noticed Kyoko and scanned her over. Kyoko braced herself, preparing for the worst but rather than berating, the girl smiled. The gentle gesture allowed Kyoko to relax a bit. “You don’t look familiar, are you new here?”

 “I-I am! I just moved here today, with my parents…”

The calmer girl whispered in Emi’s ear, who continued to scowl at Kyoko. After she’d finished, she turned back to Kyoko, a sympathetic smile on her face. “I’m really sorry about my friend here. She’s not mad at you, she was just worried.”

“I was NOT worried.” 

 “Right...anyway, it’s best if you stay clear of Eudora Cove. There have been erosion issues, so it’s not safe. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” 

“Eudora Cove?” Kyoko echoed. She pointed to the cave’s entrance, “Named after one of the Nereids from Greek mythology? Strange name for a place like this…”

“Weird name or not,” Emi added, scuffing her sandals against the sand. “We’ve always been told it’s dangerous as kids,” She refused to look Kyoko in the eye, and she pursed her lips in a penitent pout. “I assumed you knew, that’s all.” Emi turned back to her friend, “Yuyu, we should get going.”

 “Ah yes, we should be heading back,” she waved to Kyoko, “It was nice meeting you. Maybe we’ll see you around?”

 Pink flooded Kyoko’s cheeks. “Yeah, see you…” Once the girls were out of earshot, she sighed. That certainly wasn’t the best first impression, but still, she definitely saw something . Why didn’t the other girls notice it? A part of her wanted to run away, to heed the girls’ advice but…

“I’ve got to know what that light was!”

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Thoroughly mortified but determined to see it through, Kyoko entered the cavern. Seashells and stones studded the stony walls, like stars on a clear night. Soft sand blanketed the floor of the cave, which was surprisingly clear of any tracks. “That’s strange...” 

“Your Highness, please! We don’t have time - zu!”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard!!”

Voices echoed from within the cave, and splashing could be heard further within. Following the noise, Kyoko was led to a clearing, in which a pool of cerulean shimmered. She hid behind a nearby rock, watching the commotion warily. Near the pool, she spotted a baby sea turtle facing the water. “That's weird, why would a sea turtle be here? It’s not with any other hatchlings, I hope it wasn’t abandoned...”

The pool’s waters began to gleam and bubble, green light filling the cavern. Kyoko shielded her eyes, and when the light faded, a girl came into view. Her long hair was the shade of sea glass, and pointed ears peaked out of her hair. She donned a gown of...seafoam? After brushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to stand up.

Attempted.

The girl wobbled, flailing like a fish out of water. When it appeared like she was about to gain her balance, she’d start to sway again. Kyoko’s stress swelled as she watched her. “Looks like she could use some help…” She stepped out from her hiding place, approaching the girl hesitantly. “Uh, excuse me? Do you need some help?”

The girl and the turtle turned to Kyoko, panic etched on their faces. Just as suddenly as she appeared, the girl dove back into the pool. As soon as she touched the water, the clearing was doused in light. As the light faded and bubbling died down, the turtle leapt onto Kyoko’s face.

It did what now?

Kyoko grasped onto the turtle’s shell, trying to pry her off. “I have the human Princess! Get away while you can - zu!” The sea turtle called. Even with her small flippers, her hold was surprisingly tight. 

“You can TALK ?!” Kyoko screeched -- to the best of her ability since the turtle was covering her mouth. She stumbled, scrambling to shake the creature off. Eventually, the turtle lost her grip and went spinning into the sand, finally landing on her shell. Kyoko scrambled to set her upright, then cupped her in her hands. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Put me down! Lemme go - zu! I will not be caught by a human, I refuse - zu!” The turtle protested, squirming wildly. To her ‘request’, Kyoko set the animal on the sand. While she did so, something else caught her eye. A ring of keys made from...coral sat next to the pool. There were an array of colours, from pearly white to ocean blue to sunshine yellow.

“These probably belong to that girl...speaking of, she hasn’t come up for air…” She knelt and leaned closer to the water. “Are you okay down there? You dropped your...keys?” Kyoko trailed off, stopping as a figure rose from the pool. It was the girl from before, only the dress she wore was gone. In its place was a light sea green top, and a slender, sea green tail in place of legs.

“A tail...instead...of legs….tail...no legs…does that mean?”

“You’re a...a mermaid!”

 The mermaid had her hands in front of her, outstretched in apprehension. Despite the attempt to sound commanding, her voice shook as she spoke. “P-put the keys down, Terra Dweller and step away from the water.” 

Kyoko did as she was told, following the directions in a haze. So much was happening, it was hard to process. All she could think about was the creature before her. She watched as the mermaid heaved herself onto the pool’s edge. “The Keys of Pontoporeia...I don’t think they’re damaged.” After taking the keys, the mermaid groaned before flopping onto the sand. “Azuuuure....don’t you have ANYTHING I can eat? I’m starving!”

“Not QUITE the reaction I was expecting.”

 The turtle, Azure, shuffled toward the mermaid with as much attitude as she could muster. “I’ve told you, Your Highness, I don’t have anything - zu. We left Azora in such a rush, food was the last thing on my mind - zu!”

“What?! But I’ve been swimming for days!” The mermaid whined, sinking into the sand again. In a huff,  she smacked her tail against the pool’s surface. “How am I supposed to shift if I have no strength?!”

“I think she’s uh, stomping her foot...or FIN I guess...”

“Uhm, if you’re hungry, I have some food I could share..?” Kyoko pulled out the container her mom had given her and popped the lid off. Inside were little sandwiches shaped like fish, with various fillings inside. “The taiyaki sandwiches we made, of course!”

 “Taiyaki?” They parrotted.

  Kyoko handed a sandwich to each of them. Warily, the mermaid sniffed it, gave it a lick, and then a tiny nibble. She stared the morsel down, before shoving the whole sandwich in her mouth. Kyoko could only gape as the mermaid scarfed it down, and turned to her with eyes filled with longing. She handed her another, settling down next to the pool. “I can’t believe mermaids are real… What are you doing here? Where did you come from? Are there more mermaids nearby? Ah- ” She caught herself mid-ramble. “I’m sorry for all the questions...it’s just so incredible!”

Polishing off her meal, the mermaid agreed, “I feel the same! I mean, I thought all Terra Dwellers - ah, HUMANS,  were just yucky pirates, but you’re really nice!”

“Oh! Uhm, thank you...?” 

 Giggling and splashing her fins happily, she raised her tail toward Kyoko in greeting, who shook it awkwardly. “My name is Odessa, it’s nice to meet you!” 

“I’m Kyoko, Kyoko Koizumi…”

 The sea turtle flew up and landed on Odessa’s shoulder. “Your Highness, if you’re going to introduce yourself, at least do so properly - zu!”

“Oh Azure, there’s no need to -”

 “Nonsense! No matter where you are, you’re still Azoran royalty - zu!” With Odessa rolling her eyes and Azure pointedly clearing her throat, she declared, “This is Her Highness, Princess Odessa Alagona of the First Pearl’s Boon, and you should address her as such - zu!”

“And Azure is being way too formal! Just Odessa is fine.”

“So not only are you a mermaid,” Kyoko began, “But a princess too?” Her dad had been right...for once. She’d felt that there was something weird about this island, and now she’d seen his ‘supposed miracle’ with her own eyes. She wanted to ask so much, but she didn’t want to frighten her again, so she started with one: “What are you doing here?”

“Princess, is it really wise to share so much with this Terra Dweller?” Azure asked. “You don’t know her very well - zu!”

“But...she seems really nice, maybe she can help us!” After positioning her tail comfortably, she began to explain, “My big sister, Meriella...she sent me here for my safety. You see, our home -- Azora Kingdom, it's in danger! A horrible wave of cursed ink spread throughout the sea, the palace was attacked, all to take the Cordis Shell…”

“The Cordis Shell? What’s that?”

“The purest source of sea magic. It’s, like, SUPER powerful. It was gifted to our kingdom eons ago but was taken away for safekeeping a few years back. Only the king and queen -- my parents -- know where it is, but they fled during the Shoal’s attack.” Odessa sighed, sadly swishing her tail in the water. “I just hope they’re okay. Meriella and the others too...I didn’t see all the damage, but I know that the Shoal is strong and won’t stop until they get their fins on the Shell!” 

 Cursed ink, magic shells, and mermaid royalty? That was….quite a bit to digest. Kyoko didn’t know where to start, but she could tell Odessa was sad at least. She patted the mermaid’s tail, her gaze filled with warmth. “That sounds terrifying...it must be hard to be so far from home, in an unfamiliar world like this.”

“It’s okay! Once I find the Precure, everything will be alright!” 

“Precure?”

Azure sighed, frowning deeply at the princess. “Your Highness, you’re not still going on about that, are you? They’re just a merfolk legend, a story for guppies! Those fictional heroes can’t help us - zu!”

“Yes, they CAN Azure!” She shouted with a smack of her tail. “They’re real, and once I find them, I can finally help the kingdom! Meriella, Syreni, even Kaliani won’t have to worry about me anymore! Gasping, Odessa turned to Kyoko, who had been quietly listening to her woes. “You! You could help me! If I’m going to find the Precure, I’ll need to go on land. Let’s look for them together!”

Looking for the Precure...it sounded important, something that couldn’t afford mistakes or errors. What if she made things worse for Odessa? She couldn’t take that risk, she’d been through so much already. “But, I don’t know the island very well. I just moved here, so...I’m DEFINITELY not the best for this.” 

“Oh...even so, just someone to help get my land legs! Please, Kyoko! You’re the only one who can! It’s gotta be you!”

“I’m really sorry, I wish I could help…but I can’t. You shouldn’t entrust me with something like this.” She gathered her things, trying to ignore Odessa’s pleas. Sliding her backpack on, she turned to the princess once more. “I have to go, I’m so sorry. But, I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

It’s better this way...right?

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 Deep below the surface, within the Azoran seas, trouble was brewing. But not for those who feared them, but the members of the Shoal of Lament themselves. 

“What do you MEAN she escaped?!”

“Miss, it’s not our fault. That rotten crown princess sent her away before we could ask her anything.” Nerida explained, inspecting her slim, eellike tail. The mermaid had deep blue hair, and skin with a peculiar purple tint. After adjusting the gold jewelry she modelled, she pointed her fins toward her subordinate. “If you must blame anyone, blame Calypso. He spent so much time flaunting his Sirens, we missed our chance!”

The accused merman feigned a gasp. “How could I not?” His blue complexion allowed his green tentacles to glow in the darkness. “My Sirens had so much fun tearing up the city! You wound me, my love.”

“I am NOT your love.”

“It doesn’t matter now, the princess should be far from Azora at this point,” another merman added. He sported a mop of dirty blond hair and a tawny seahorse tail. “We should locate her right away. She’s the last member of the royal family, she must know of the Cordis Shell’s whereabouts.”

“My thoughts precisely. We don’t have time for all this squabbling!” another mermaid exclaimed, smacking her fist against the craggy wall behind her. Her navy blue tail was rough, fins firm and as frightening as a shark. She handed a ring of coral keys to their mistress, bowing. “Miss, I stole these from Princess Syreni. I know the royals use them to pass into other seas in the realm, perhaps we can use these to pursue the princess.”

“Excellent.” She held her hands over the keys, and with a small spell, the once radiant keys were dyed an inky black. “Take these Nerida, and find that minnow. Make her regret ever leaving the sea.”

“Of course Miss.”

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After today, she could never look at the ocean the same. 

How could she? A whole new world was under the surface, a world in danger, and she’d refused to help it. “I wonder how Odessa is...I hope she’s okay.” Kyoko muttered, looking out to sea from her balcony. She shivered a bit, the ocean breeze nipping at her skin.   

Unbeknownst to her, Haya had slipped into her room to say goodnight, but when her mother saw her, looking to the water with longing, she could sense something was up. Her mother joined her on the balcony, draping a blanket over Kyoko's shoulders. “It’s still early spring y’know? Don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Oh, thanks.”

They took a moment to watch the sea, admiring its glistening surface, studded with moonlight. Kyoko’s gaze lingered, but she eventually turned to face her mother. “Mom? Could I ask you something?”

After getting a nod from her mother, she took a deep breath. “So...let’s say you have this friend right? And they really REALLY want your help with something. But this thing is SO important, that if you mess up a LOT of people could get hurt. So you say no, because this friend has gone through so much already, and the last thing they need is you making things worse! Uhm...that’s okay, right?”

Haya laughed, “That’s a big ‘something’ sweetie.” She returned her gaze to the water, deep in thought. “Does this friend trust you?”

Do they trust her? What kind of question is that? “I mean…I guess so. Why does that matter?”

“Well, I just think that if this friend trusts you, has confidence in you...then you should share in that trust, and have some confidence in yourself. I bet they believe in you for a reason, you just can’t see why...At least, that’s what my father used to tell me! You remember, don’t you Kyoko?”

Kyoko nodded, “Yes...Grandpa used to say that a lot…” Her grandfather, Ryūjin always made her feel like she could do anything…

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“Come on Kyoko! Just a little further!”

Kyoko looked over the boat, eyeing the dolphin warily. She reached out a hand, then retracted it, shaking. “I can’t do it! I’m too scared! What if I hurt it?” 

Ryujin smiled, taking Kyoko’s dainty hand in his calloused one. “You don’t know that for sure kiddo. I want you to try though, okay?”

“But…”

“Pretty please?”

“...Okay.” Trembling, she stretched out again and this time, the dolphin nuzzled against her palm, clicking happily. Kyoko gasped, staring at her hand in awe. “I...I did it! Grandpa, I did it!” 

Laughing, Ryujin scooped the little girl, hugging her tightly. “I knew you could kiddo! Just took a bit of courage, huh?”

“Mhmm!”

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 He’d always stressed the importance of helping others, he wouldn’t have wanted her to run away. He’d want her to face this. If not for herself, then for Odessa at least. 

“Mom I, uh...I need to go.”

“Now? But it’s dark and-”

“It’s important! I’ll be back soon, but...there’s something I need to do!”

“Something only I can do.”

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 As Kyoko ran back to the beach, she could see the sky darken and the waves thrash against the shore. It was like the sea was in distress, she thought, skidding to a stop in front of Eudora Cove. “Odessa? Are you there?” she called, but to no avail. “Where could she be?” Turning away from the coastal cavern, she noticed Azure squirming in the sand. She knelt next to the sprite, gently setting her upright. “Azure, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there! Is everything okay? Where’s Odessa?”

Azure pointed weakly to the water, “Over there-zu...but, it’s not safe.”

“Not safe? Why, what’s going on?”

Just then, Odessa burst out of the sea, scrambling to shore. Her tail and arms were littered with scrapes, and from her panicked expression, she seemed to be being...pursued? Soon after Odessa surfaced, another mermaid followed - one with peculiar purple pigmentation, and an aura so ominous it made Kyoko tremble.

“I told you Nerida, I don’t know where it is! Only my parents do, honestly!” Odessa spluttered, trembling as the mermaid drew near.  

“In that case,” Nerida snapped, holding her hand over the rough waters. “You’ll have to tell me where your parents are hiding, won’t you?” More creatures rose from the deep, each armed with an eel’s tail like their commander’s, along with webbed hands and fishy ears. Even with their snarling and hissing, their eyes appeared dismal and bleak. Two Sirens slithered onto land, each taking a hold of Odessa’s arms. Nerida joined them on the beach, pointing a bony finger at the young mermaid. “If you tell me now,” she sang, electric sparks dancing on her finger, “It’ll be less painful…”

Kyoko couldn’t bear to watch any longer. She had to do something ! Scanning the beach, she spotted a long, sturdy piece of driftwood. Snatching it up -- and without thought -- she charged the Sirens. Before they could react, she smacked each of them on the head. They roared in pain, releasing Odessa from their hold.

“Kyoko?! What are you doing here?”

“What I should’ve done before!”

“Well well, what’s this? A Terra Dweller?” Nerida drawled, smirking as Kyoko tried to drag Odessa away. She laughed harder as Kyoko stumbled, panting. “This doesn’t concern you, child. You’re even shaking! What do you think YOU can do?” 

 There really was no reason for Kyoko to do this. She knew that well enough. The whole situation was out of her control, and much bigger than her. But still…

But still…!

 “I...I don’t know what I can do to change this, but...I’d rather do something than nothing! I believe in myself that much, at least…”

With tears pricking her eyes, Kyoko braced herself, fearing for the fated blow…

Which never came.

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Kyoko didn’t notice when the world had melted away, all she saw now was an endless rosy hue. A few bubbles floated by her, and she reached out to touch one. It burst with the contact, dispersing into splashes of light. This world was so peaceful, she’d never felt more at ease. She floated along in this place, savouring the feeling. 

“Kyoko.” A voice called, one scarily similar to her own. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m...you! Sort of. You’ve taken the first step, and I couldn't be more proud of you.”

“The first step? The first step to what? What is this place?”

 “Don’t worry about that now, but take this. It’ll help you protect those you love.”

Another bubble floated before Kyoko, and when it burst, a necklace shone in its place. Kyoko held it, turning over the shell-shaped pendant in her hands. “But... what am I supposed to do with this?”

“You got here by believing in yourself, I’m sure you understand what comes next. Trust yourself, Kyoko, those feelings will carry you far…”

Despite the coyness of...herself, Kyoko acknowledged that she got here by believing in herself.  And that was something she hadn’t done in a long time…

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Kyoko held the shell close to her heart, calling out the words that would change her.

“Precure! Marine Reflection!”

The Lapis Locket popped open, and a flurry of pink fish burst out. She was bathed in a sea of light. When the light faded, she was floating in the ocean! But she wasn’t afraid, this was too incredible! She relished the moment, beaming as she reached a hand outward. As she outstretched her hand, the pod of fish returned, as if she’d summoned them.

“Would you mind helping me please?” Kyoko asked with a smile. They swam around different parts of her, starting with her ankles. A pair of pearly pink heels appeared on her feet, which Kyoko admired.

Next was her body. The fish spiralled around her hips, and a pink and blue skirt materialized with a loud pop. The same happened with her chest, and she donned a matching tube top. 

The fish swam to Kyoko’s head, lightly pecking her there. She couldn’t help giggling as they kissed her, laughter bubbling as she spun. Her hair began to glow and then grow. It brightened in hue, save for the blue ombré she now had. Bubbles weaved through one part of her hair, braiding and sealing it with a large seashell. 

As the pod swam away, one little fish lingered behind, planting a kiss on her cheek before departing. Returning the favour, Kyoko blew bubbles and kisses to the fish. The bubbles shone, turning into a ring of pearls on her neck as well as corresponding earrings. 

“The locket! I almost forgot!” With a wave of her finger, the Lapis Locket appeared, its string dissolved into seafoam and the shell glittering on her chest.

 She floated within a large pink oyster shell, and as it eased open, she struck a pose, declaring her new title. 

“ The heart of the sea! Making waves, Cure Delphin!”

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 Kyoko, rather, Cure Delphin hovered over the sand, before landing daintily. “This is really...me?” She examined her body, admiring the rosy glow she emitted and the overwhelming power surging through her. 

“I...I really did it! I found one of the Precure!” Odessa cheered, slapping her tail down with enthusiasm. “Azure, did you see? I told you they were real!”

Azure could only nod, her eyes wide. “Yes I... guess they are real-zu.” 

Nerida was equally shocked. How could a simple Terra Dweller, let alone a CHILD, become one of the warriors of merfolk legend? She didn't have time to mull it over, all that mattered was dealing with the nuisance before she could handle her powers. “Sirens! After her!”

Charging their tails, sparks bursting from the tips, the Sirens surged forward. Rather than applying the miraculous, magical abilities, she’d been blessed with, Delphin squeaked, and took off running. Azure and Odessa watched the ‘heroine’ scamper off, the Sirens slithering after her.

“Oh yes, what a legendary warrior - zu…”

“Hey! She’ll get the hang of it! I hope…”

The Sirens continued to chase Delphin, and soon she was surrounded. They inched closer, growling and gnashing their teeth. Adrenaline and fear overtook her, and in a desperate attempt to evade harm, she leapt into the air, just as the Sirens lunged for her.

While she was in the sky, Delphin blathered on, pulling at her hair. “This is crazy, this is totally crazy! What am I DOING?! How can I fight those… those THINGS when I can’t even control my - AH!”

Delphin shrieked as she plummeted to the ground, but in some twisted manner, managed to land upright. A plume of sand billowed from her landing, the dust clouding the beach. Delphin stumbled out of the cloud, shaking her head.

“Delphin!” Odessa shouted, rubbing the sand from her eyes. “Precure aren’t just strong! They have special powers too! If you want to beat the Sirens, you’ve gotta use those powers!”

“Even if you tell me that...” After clearing the sand from their vision, a horde of Sirens dove at her. Panicked, she flailed her arms, water bubbling from her hands as she did so. Just before they could touch her, the water rippling near her palms turned into a rushing wave. “Oh. So, that’s what you mean by powers,” she added, watching the wave crash onto the Sirens.

Brimming with self-confidence, Delphin engaged the marine monsters. Jumping to elude their talons, she dug her shimmery heel into one's head. Using that as a platform, she leapt off and rammed her fist into the sand. The force of her punch created another tidal wave, protecting her and sending the Sirens back with the swell. Delphin beamed, this was amazing! She’d never felt so powerful, it was so different from her usually spineless self. She felt confident! She felt strong!

She felt one of the Sirens whip her with its tail, sending her tumbling into the sand. Stinging discomfort shook her body, and she nearly heaved from the pain. 

“Okay Delphin, don’t get cocky now…There are too many to keep up this fight. I need to get rid of them all at once. But how?” 

As she peeled herself off the ground, her eyes fell onto the water before her. Despite the battle, the waves had continued their ebb and flow.

“Ocean...move…that’s it!”

“I hope this works…” Clasping her hands to her heart, she envisioned her powers like water: powerful like a tsunami, yet gentle as a babbling brook. Her mind was clear, and in a bold voice she called out...

“Precure...!”

Her Lapis Locket began to glow, dousing the sea in a roseate light. As she stretched out her arms, a pod of dolphins -- composed entirely of water-- swam next to her. Frolicking in a pink wave, the dolphins rushed past. One dolphin swam underneath, bumping into her and she tumbled onto its back. Now leading the fray, she pointed towards her target.

“Delphin Migration!”

With that declaration, the pod and wave engulfed the Sirens. Delphin cheered as her target was drenched, an endearing smile on her face. The creatures collapsed, impotent yet blissful. 

Delphin joined them, crumbling into the sand. A wave of seafoam washed over her, and she was Kyoko Koizumi once more. She touched the pink shell hanging from her neck, tracing her finger over its glossy surface. “This locket...I should probably hold onto it.”

Nerida, however, gaped at her Sirens in shock, appalled by their weakened state. Whatever that... Precure (oh, how she loathed saying that) did had rendered her minions powerless! What was she supposed to tell her mistress? Nerida snarled at the human girl, smirking as the Terra Dweller flinched. “This isn’t over, little human. I’ll be back for you and the princess.” Brandishing a set of coral keys  -- similar to Odessa’s, save for their inky black colour -- she snapped her fingers. The weary Sirens followed their superior, dragging themselves back to the sea. As they sank below the surface, Kyoko knew their return was inevitable; The fact alone made her tremble. What if today was just a fluke? Would she be able to do this again? What if-

Something damp touched her back, and she let out an unearthly shriek. She scrambled away, frantic but relaxed upon realization. It was only Odessa, her tail must’ve brushed against her back. Limpid tears dotted Odessa’s eyes, and a warbled smile was etched on her face. “Odessa? Are you alright-OH!” The mermaid leapt onto her, squeezing her tightly. 

“Kyoko, that was AMAZING! You were incredible! You were like...BAM...and SPLASH...and then WHOOSH!”

Azure followed suit, “I’ve never seen anything like that before -zu! Now Azora has a chance!” 

“Yeah! Everything’s going to be okay, thanks to Kyoko!”

Kyoko watched as Odessa and Azure cheered, admiring their innocent delight. Maybe she was a bit innocent too, thinking that she could do something like this. But, they believed in her.

Maybe that’s all she needed.

“I think....things will be alright. I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”  

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Tidal Song Precure! Chapter Two Preview

As Odessa gets to know her saviour, her admiration for her grows, and she yearns to become a precure too. In order to prove herself, she decides to venture on land...alone. What adventures await her on the sandy streets of Yumeshima?

Next time on "Tidal Song Precure!": Azora's boon! The voice of the sea, Cure Lagoon!

[dramaticskeleton]

Chapter 3: Oliver

He’s handsome. That’s the only thought that passes through my head as I stare at the boy in front of me. He’s got a dark shirt on that clings to his body, showing off the muscles of his stomach. His black hair hangs in loose curls on his forehead and he stares at me intently with hazel eyes that have an expression I can’t place. I was going to be sharing a house with this person. The thought gives me a thrill of excitement.

“My name’s Freddy,” I say, sticking my hand out in greeting.

“Thank God for you, Freddy.” I can feel a spark flare up where he touches me, shaking my hand in a firm grip. “If not for you, I’d be stuck choosing between one thirsty girl or another.”

“You had a host of girls throw themselves at you, and you chose me for a roommate instead,” I laugh, “You don’t have very good taste.”

“Is that so? What are you like, then?”

“Well, I like art and getting drunk on the weekends, for starters.”

“We’re going to get along splendidly.”

~~~~~

A few weeks later, I sit at the table, editing the photos I took of Fancy. This one is particularly enticing. Her naked back is toward the camera, her spine sticking out faintly as she hunches her shoulders forward. She holds a green silk sheet against the front of her body with one hand, exposing just enough of the side of her breast to be tasteful. She looks at me over her shoulder, her other arm raised to run her hands through her hair. The photos capture the brilliant red strands slipping out from her fingers. Her makeup is sultry, making her eyes stand out.

My phone buzzes next to me. I ignore it, continuing to the next photo.

Fancy is on the ground, the camera angled to fly over her body. Her face is off to the side, so the focus is her fingers twirling a string of pearls around her neck. The light reflects in the blue nail polish. In the background, her breasts swell under the thin pink fabric of her bra. Her legs are bent, knees knocked in toward each other.  I feel an appreciative growl escape my throat, remembering how I took her on the floor after I snapped the photo.

I flip to the next one - she’s on her stomach, her ass in the air - when a series of texts come in, one after another. After the fourth one I finally pick up my phone. They’re all from Fancy.

Come to Oxford ;) I want to see you ;) Please Freddy I know you’ve got your phone on you

Why?

I want to see you more often And I don’t want to drive an hour to do it.

I think about her implication. What had started as a night here and there had turned into a biweekly event and she had started staying with me during her visits instead of running off in the mornings. Our rough sex had turned into almost passionate love making. There is a different feel to whatever is going on between us now. Our fling had somehow become something more.

I type out, Maybe.

You can stay at my place. My cousin won’t mind

You live with your cousin? Is she going to join us? ;)

HE wouldn’t mind it, but I definitely would :P

Ah. I hadn’t been with a man in five years and I wasn’t about to start. When?

Come tonight. I’ve got a new set I want to show you ;)

I chew on my bottom lip, seriously contemplating it. I don’t have any solid roots in London, and there’s nothing left for me here anyway, seeing as I don’t go out anymore.  My life has dwindled down to working at the table and fucking Fancy in the bed, or the other way around. Moving to a different city would be good for me. I could start over, maybe turn this thing with Fancy into something serious.

Give me a couple hours.

By the time I pull up to the quiet neighborhood, it’s nearly one o’clock. The dark stone house peeks out under strands of ivy climbing up the walls. It’s quaint, with stairs leading to the door and little flower boxes under the windows. I pull out my phone, messaging Fancy. Within minutes, I see a light turn on in an upstairs window. She comes out smiling radiantly. She grabs my hand.

“Oliver’s still asleep, so you’ve got to be quiet.”

I check at the name for an instant but she pulls me through the house, not noticing. The sitting room that looks like it’s straight out of a magazine. The blue couch is illuminated by the moon coming through the large bay window. A fireplace with low burning embers is on the adjacent wall. We go under an ornate archway into the kitchen and then through another one to a set of stairs. I let her lead me down the hall.  

When we tumble into her bed, Fancy starts giggling.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“You asked, didn’t you?” I kiss her, slipping a hand under her shirt. “Haven’t you got something to show me?”

~~~~~~

I wake up to the feel of Fancy trailing kisses down my chest. She’s got her ass waving in the air and she lets out little hums as she moves. When she lifts her head, her caramel brown eyes sparkle. God, she’s hot. Fancy crawls to the top of the bed and kisses me, her fingers roaming my chest.

“Morning,” she mumbles into my mouth.

“Morning.”

Fancy pulls away and sits up. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like an angel.” My eyes slip to the art on her walls, drawn specifically to a vivid red cardinal, perched on a snow-covered branch. Its beady eye stares back at me. “Are these yours?”

She blushes prettily. “Yeah. I’m not very good.”

“They look good to me.”

With a happy smile, she leans in to kiss me again and then jumps off the bed sliding into the shirt and shorts I tore off her last night. “I’ll make lunch, yeah?”

I glance at the clock on the bedside table. It’s 12:45. “Alright.”

I stretch on the bed for a second more before getting up, admiring the drawings as I pull on my own discarded clothes. Next to the cardinal is a grove of trees, brilliant green foliage dappled with sunlight. Next to that, a gazebo covered in snow. She’d paid such attention to detail, it’s astounding. I give the cardinal another curious glance before lighting a cig and leaving the room.

By the time I get down the stairs, Fancy is already working at the stove She’s got the radio on and is swaying her hips to the music.

“Put that out,” she says without turning around. “There’s no smoking in the house.”

I douse the cigarette in a pot of water in the sink and sneak up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and nipping her ear. I leave kisses on her neck, giving her a particularly possessive bruise on the area between her neck and shoulder. I start to slip a hand under her shirt. She whacks me with the spatula.

“Go sit down, you insatiable cad.”

I laugh, giving her ass a pinch before sliding a chair out. It affords me a view of the backyard. Purple and yellow flowers spill out of pots along the edge of the patio. The grass beyond is littered with brown leaves, though most of the trees are still bright red, orange, and yellow. There’s a little greenhouse off to the side, still green plants flourishing. It’s got a domestic feel to it.

Fancy brings my attention back inside by plopping a plate of eggs in front of me.

“I’m not the greatest cook,” she admits, “But I thought after all the breakfasts you’ve made me, the least I could do is try.”

I take one bite and grimace. “This is terrible,” I say as I spit it out into a napkin.

She giggles. “That bad?”

“I’ve had escargot that tastes better than this.”

She rests a hand on my knee. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t attempt.”

“Please don’t ever do this again,” I say, unable to keep the grin off my face.

She takes the plate with a playful scowl, dumping the food in the trash as I get up to take over the cooking. Fancy dances around the kitchen as I throw together eggs and spices. She comes up behind me and slips her hands up my chest, placing kisses on my back.

“Who’s the cad now?” I ask. I hear the front door open in the other room.

“Fancy, are you really making breakfast?”

I freeze. I’d know that voice anywhere. I had left it pleading and on the verge of tears in Greece and never expected to hear it again, least of all here. I can still see his face, sorrowful and distraught, begging me to stay. Telling me we’d get through everything, that we could do this. I shut my eyes, taking a shuddering breath in.

Fancy misinterprets my reaction and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just Oliver,” she whispers.

I know. I don’t say the words out loud, as if by not admitting it, he’ll disappear. I’m afraid to turn around, even as a part of me begs to see his face.

“Well I was trying,” Fancy is saying. “But Freddy didn’t approve, so now he’s doing it.”

“God, did you bring your flavor of the night home with you?”

I wince at the derision. Fancy moves away from me. “Don’t be rude. My flavor of the night, as you say, has actually been my flavor of the last few months.”

“Oh, is this why you’ve been running up to London every other week?”

“This is Freddy. Freddy, come meet my cousin.”

There’s no avoiding it now. I dump the food from the pan onto a plate and turn around. He’s sitting at the table, flipping through his phone. His hair is an array of curly tufts, just like I remember. The sun lights up his face and highlights the light stubble on his chin. The corner of his mouth is twisted into a frown as he says,

“What makes this one special?”

“Well, he can cook for one thing.” From the side of my eye, I can tell Fancy is looking at me, a grin on her face, but I only have eyes for the man in front of me. I set the plate in front of him.

“Thanks mate,” he says, finally looking up. His eyes, his beautiful, brilliant hazel eyes, flare wide within seconds and his mouth drops. All we can do is stare at each other. I drink in his features greedily, memorizing the shape of his face, the arch of his eyebrows, the sharp edges of his jaw. For a moment, it’s as if the years have fallen away and we’re eighteen again, meeting each other for the first time. He had looked at me the same way, making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

I bite my lip and hear him mutter under his breath, “Shit.”

Fancy steps up to my side, interlacing our fingers. She kisses me on the cheek, saying, “He’s different, Oliver.”

When he looks at me again, he doesn’t look angry like I expect, like he should be, but there’s a touch of coldness that makes me flinch. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Don’t be jealous because I found him first.”

He scoffs. “You can keep him. He’s not my type.”

I deserve the chilly statement, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Fancy leans against me in what I suppose is a supportive gesture.

“Listen, I’ve invited Freddy to stay with us for a bit.”

“You did what?” He turns his fierce eyes to his cousin, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, he’s in Oxford and needs a place to live,” she lies. She crinkles her nose. “I’ve just remembered that I promised Mica I’d help her find a dress for tonight, so I’ll leave you two to become friends. Be nice.”

When she leaves the kitchen, a heavy silence falls. I’m not sure what to do so I just stand there as he picks up a fork and shovels the food around the plate. Fancy comes back down, waves bye, and leaves. Still, he doesn’t say anything. I feel nauseous and my head hurts. I wish I had finished that cigarette.

After another minute, he points the fork at the chair opposite him. “You can sit down, you know,” he rasps out.

I hesitate, unsure of if I want to run away or not. I decide to take the seat slowly. I watch his hands as he plays with the eggs, noticing with a jolt that he’s still wearing the silver and emerald ring I gave him years ago. I had gotten it for him as a graduation present, but it had meant something more too. It had been a promise. And I broke it.

I fiddle with my fingers, figuring out how to speak to this person. I settle for, “Hello, Ollie.”

He lifts his head, looking at me. Really looking. I think I see the frozen gaze crack and concern shine out for a brief second. I know what he must see - a pale, scrawny creature with gloomy eyes and a hollow face. I’m nothing like the vibrant, bright person he used to know.

“You look fucking terrible,” he finally says when an uncomfortable number of minutes pass. “You look worse than when you thought you could live off popcorn and biscuits.”

“I’ve been busy,” I say by way of explanation.

“Too busy to eat?”

“I’ve been eating.”

“Not enough,” he snaps.

A laugh slips out as we fall back into the old argument. “Alright yeah, my diet mostly consists of Bacardi and nicotine.”  

His eyebrows immediately furrow, the worry too obvious to miss. He puts the fork down and folds his hands. He seems to fight himself before he asks, “Are you okay?”

I feel a pang at the question. Somehow, his ability to care for me hasn’t changed. “I’m fine,” I say quietly.

“That’s what you said in March, and then you disappeared again.” His voice sounds accusing, but when I catch his eye, he just looks sad. I think about that call, the kindness in his voice back then, the love that I could still feel radiating down the line. I hadn’t felt like I deserved it, so I had ignored the second chance he had given me. I had fucked my way around London to forget about the fact that he had invited me to visit him, and that he had said he missed me. The shame of it slams into me. I don’t have any words for him so I just look stare helplessly at the table.

Ollie runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, leaning back. “I don’t know whether to punch you, or kiss you.”

My lips twitch. I deserved the one and I desperately wanted the other. I give a weak shrug. “Both?”

He rubs his face, frowning. “I waited for you to come back, you know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I stayed in Greece for two extra weeks, thinking you’d walk through that door again, like you’d just gone out to walk it off. And then I waited at every damn stop on the tour we planned, expecting you to show up. I hoped for for weeks that it was all just an nightmare and I’d wake up with you in my arms again, and I’d kiss you, and love you, and everything would be alright.”

I can feel my heart breaking. “I’m sorry,” I choke out again.

“And then I woke up one morning and it hit me. You were gone. For good. You weren’t coming back, you weren’t going to call. So when I checked out of that last hotel, I shut the door on us.”

His face starts getting blurry. I try to blink away the tears but just succeed in spilling them. Through them, I see Ollie’s nose twitch, the way it always does when he’s lying. A flutter of hope rises in my chest. “I wanted to.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Why hadn’t I? Because I had been so afraid of my past coming between us, that I had let it do just that. I had been scared of what he would say to me if I walked through those doors again after a week, two weeks, two months. I hadn’t wanted to see his anger, or sadness. I had betrayed him, and I hadn’t been ready to face that. So I had let the months slip by until they became years. And the more time I kept silent, the more scared I was to talk to him.

“I couldn’t.”

Ollie scoffs. “That’s a bullshit answer. God, we had three years together. We were building something; we were happy.”

“Happiest three years of my life.” Not a lie.

“Then why’d you leave?”

I fidget with my hands, unable to look him in the eye. “I didn’t want you to be bothered by her anymore. I thought if I walked away, she would leave you alone.”

“I never would have let Leah come between us, if you had just trusted me.”

I flinch at the name of the girl who had ruined everything. The messages that had followed us across Europe still haunt me to this day. Leah had tried to drive a wedge between me and Ollie, and while she never succeeded in making him hate me, she still managed to destroyed our relationship. At least, she’d played a hand in helping me destroy it.

“You were so angry about it,” I whisper, wiping my face. “I hated seeing you like that.”

“Of course I was angry! She was ruining our trip.” He looks down at his hands. “I was going to ask you to marry me, you know. At the end of it all.”

It’s like a punch to the face. I watch him play with his ring, twirling it around his finger. “You should have done it at the beginning,” I say.

“Would it have changed anything?”

“It might have.”

“Yeah, well, hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?” He sighs deeply. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’ve moved on and you’ve got Cici.” His nose twitches again.

I blink. I had almost forgotten about her. That’s right, I was only here because of her. I had entertained the idea that I was starting to feel something for her, maybe enough to start a real relationship with her. Those thoughts had gone right out the window at the sight of Ollie.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?”

In the rare moments when I had allowed myself to imagine meeting Ollie again, this was definitely not the topic of conversation. I shift awkwardly. He lets out a mirthless laugh. “Oh come on, it’s not a secret. I heard you fucking all night.”

“Sorry.”

“You still make that noise right before you get off.” I blush furiously and shoot him a rapid glare. He smirks mischievously for a second, and then it falls from his face. “You’re the first guy she’s brought to the house, you know. Says a lot about you.”

I don’t know what to say. I think of all the girls I’ve had between here and Russia and think it just means Fancy’s got poor taste in men. “I got the impression she had a lot of mates to sleep with.”

“Yeah, but she never brings them here.”

“I guess she thought it was time to meet you.”

“How long have you been seeing each other then?”

“Since June.”

He looks surprised. “That’s incredible.”

I scratch the back of my head, embarrassed. “It’s just three months.”

“That’s a record for her. Listen,” Ollie leans forward, placing his forearms on the table. “You can’t tell her about us, alright? She finally looks happy for once. It would devastate her.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “She wasn’t happy before?”

He hesitates for a second, as if debating what to say to me. Then he says simply, “She’s better.”  

“I won’t,” I say. “Tell her, that is. I don’t even know how I’d have that conversation.”

“You would start by telling her you’re gay.”

I smile a bit, dropping my gaze. “More like bi-curious.”

“I’d hate to think you were just experimenting with my cousin.” His sharp tone makes me look up. He’s giving me a mild glare, his brow lifted. “She’s like a sister to me and I’ll kick your ass if you hurt her.”

I laugh, raising my hands defensively. “I’m not. I think I’m starting to feel something for her.” I’m a little startled as the words leave my mouth. I think of her smile from this morning and it sends a little thrill through me. I feel a bit guilty as I glance at Ollie. Nothing I feel for her could ever top the emotions that well up at the sight of him, but if he was trying to convince himself that he’d moved on, then maybe it was time for me to do the same.

“Good,” Ollie says, getting up. “I’m happy for you.”

I realize he means it. He might be sad to see me with someone else, but he’s not bitter about it. If I was happy with his cousin, then he would bury his own feelings for my sake. Like always, putting me before him.

“This you?”

I turn to see him standing by the sink, holding up my soaked cigarette. “Sorry, yeah. I didn’t have anywhere else to put it. I was gonna get it out.”

“You’re smoking again?” He sounds upset, and I catch his eye. He’s looking at me with such overwhelming concern that I feel my throat start to choke up.

“I picked it up in France,” I manage to sputter out.

Ollie drops the cig in the trash and then  crosses his arms. “Come on, you know it’s not good for you.”

I remember the first time he caught me smoking, a couple days into our second month of living together. He had held my hand and cupped my face, and said exactly the same thing. I smile a bit at the memory.

“It’s a stress habit.”

He takes a step forward and rests a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got to stop.”

“I can’t,” I say, looking down at his hand

He lifts my chin. “Try. For me.”

“Alright.” I find I mean it. I’d try, if he wanted me to.

“You want a cup of tea?” he asks, moving back to his seat at the table. I nod dumbly, still feeling his warmth on my shoulder. He points to the counter. “The kettle’s just there. I like Earl Grey, one sugar.”

He shoots me a smirk and it makes me laugh. I set about making a pot for the two of us

“Well, tell me about the last five years then. I expect there’s a lot to catch up on.”

[nahrsuada]

The Heist (Part I)

co-written by @gavonphilips, my ever tolerant RP partner))

Several days passed between the journey from Boralus to docking at the mainland once more, leaving only a day and a half’s ride through Elwynn’s leagues. En route to the cursed former hamlet, Gavon had made a pit stop within the city of Stormwind before they reached the stables. Giving little explanation, he had dashed into one of the more prominent inns and had bid Nahrsuada to wait outside. When he returned, striding out onto the cobbles, he looked more befitting a well-to-do Gilnean bloke - even if the fine, black suit and woolen overcoat appeared a hair too big on his athletic frame.

 The bard would quickly come to find he had raided one of Conwulf’s many closets scattered about the residences he owned across the Eastern Kingdoms, and Gavon had done it in such a way that it was clearly not his first time helping himself to his friend’s finer regalia. The short wait had her only admire the coastline whose horizon seldom bore the brunt of tempest’s ire. As he returned, a single brow had quirked, though woefully unsurprised by the shift in attire. With a shake of that crimson crown, she, too, climbed upon her mare to abate fleeting sojourn.

 Sunlit borders crossed soon into the grim embrace of Duskwood, storm hailing them soon to the fringe of Darkshire where the scopic estate dwelled just abaft the city limits.  A subtle ease took hold of Gavon any time they returned to the mainland. Somewhere he knew as well as the back of his hand. Duskwood was among many areas of the Kingdom that he felt most comfortable, having spent a great deal of time traveling and working through it over the years both before the Gilnean wall went up, and after it came down. His petite counterpart could not have contradicted his respite more; shoulderblades stitched akin to a harpstring tuned and tightened upon ridged spire.

 The stoned manor was perhaps of the finest construct the vagabonds had come across, even dwarfing many of the lavish, countryside plantations in Boralus from which they were housed.  It surely rivaled the bluest of blood within Gilneas, possessing attributes akin to the Greymane estate edged upon the kingdom’s coast. The homage to the pair’s kindred loyalty would surely have awakened the opulent fantasies, were they not hours from perilous reckoning.  Secrets threaded within grandeur would soon bleed from its very seams; expose the host of debauchery ravished with gruesome intent.

 The chateau was surely worth marveling; stoned pathway leading up to its obsidian gates narrowed the pair’s steeds to near brush against one another. High-grown shrubs lined the walkway with landscaping tenders already dressing the promenade to the courtyard with elevated lanterns, draped satins to weave upon the fences blockading obscurity from the grand gate.  A gothic, stone arch heralded guests beneath the overlooking guard’s and keeper’s quarters.  

 Peaked, gabled infrastructure piled upon perfectly laid, stoned tiers ribbed with viewing patios overlooking the forested acreage beyond.  Archers had perched within their designated towers, spotting the familiar redhead and her suited companion upon matching, raven mares. Beneath a long, cotton skirt, Nahrsuada donned a pair of riding britches to comfortably grip the leathern saddle. Elsewise, a traditional, double-breasted coat fell with a drop-waist tailoring, spanning over each hip.  With the woman’s scarlet curls tied into a low, neatened scarlet spiral, a small tophat protected her features from the inevitable misting which ever assaulted travelers as they crossed the sunlit borders from the northern kingdom. With the woman’s fair, porcelain complexion, the deep emerald tailored tightly to a slenderized waistline.  

They had been greeted by droves of servants who ushered them to the guest quarters upon parcel’s purlieu.  Nahrsuada's demand was to remain as close to the servants as she may, under the justification that she did not feel so honored by her blood, even if the affiliation of her surname was of hauteur dress.  Both she and Gavon had stopped and relieved each of the warmblooded mares provided at the Stormwind Stables. Arrayed in a long waistcoat to block out the torrential rain which seemed to shower them immediately upon crossing into Duskwood, she eased off the equine whose withers towered well above her brow, casting a glance toward Gavon as a servant claimed the reins of each steed.  

 Gavon’s disposition shifted drastically the moment Friesian hooves clomped across the property. He sat straighter upon the saddle with his chin tipped higher, and a hand released from leather reins to make certain his suit appeared as impeccable as it was going to get, even if his shoulders didn’t quite fill it out. The Gilnean was clearly going to put on a show for their heist, and he was going to stay true to whatever character that he had conjured up to better cover up their true intentions for arriving. If it was an upper crust piano player they wanted, that was precisely what they were going to get.

Escorted inward by the stewards, their own quarters possessed a private door nearest the stables which was all too convenient for their needs.  Hardwood and gothic coppers all dressed the hearth and bedposts with the finest filigree. A calm, neutral smile held fast to Gavon’s lips as they were herded to temporary quarters.  Had he not been in disguise, he would have whistled at the finery about them, but instead, he appeared steady as a rock and as unimpressed as one would be who had been to many such estates; even if he was secretly scoping out what he could nap before they hightail it out of the place.

 Waiting for them inside was a warm spread which the valet continued to lay out with porcelain and silvers decorating a small, two-person rounded table against the wall.  Upon his swift departure, the youthful bard glanced toward her paramour, shoulders visibly tense from the moment they crossed the gait. She had never disclosed the depths of why she wished for this particular manor to fall beneath their terror, or why such a heist required pointed intimacy.  As strides closed inward, a strained smile contrived her lips. "Thank you for doing this with me, beloved."

Only once the butler had left them to their privacy did he relax, and the cool smile curved back into its usual smarmy grin. Brows wagged with exaggeration as he peered around the room, and finally let loose the low, appreciative whistle he withheld prior.  Without a second to pass, he strode right for the prepared platter and procured a piece of cheese that promptly got tossed into his mouth.  Chewing, he commented idly, “I could get used to this.”

 A hand immediately shot out to snare the girl by the outer seams of her skirt, yanking her the short distance that remained between their bodies.  Coiling a sinuous arm about her, he pulled her tight to curl against his stalwart frame.  “Don’t thank me yet, luv. Still plenty of time for me to fuck things up,” he quipped with a cheeky grin.

 The woman's slender silhouette bent, spine arching with the gesture that pulled her as weight shifted to the balls of her feet.  Much akin to the first volta they shared, her malleable frame swerved to greet his own. The strength of the arm which so generously wreathed around her allowed for a moment's rest from tension boiling beneath the surface.  The feigned smile primed with gusto as her lips came to meet his own. "If we go down, my love, we do so together. All the same, I will thank you." Typically, the bard was not so grim in her prose, but a dour cloud surely had weighed upon narrow shoulders.  

The grip upon her dress, the burning hearth of his flesh beneath the wool never failed to set fire to her veins, nerves lit akin to swift-burning kindle.  But just when ease was granted, a jarring knock upon the door flayed her from rest's coaxing vice. As eyes lidded, so, too, did the tepid veil which swept across porcelain visage.  Gavon should have known there was going to be a knock on the door. Of course there was going to be a knock on the door. She pried from her lover's welcoming hold to wander toward the door. 

(sensitive matter below)

Ethereal in ghostly movements, hemline now dragging upon the marbled floor to crack the door, a free hand rested upon its molding to peer over delicate knuckles.  With the wood blocking most of her initial impression, her paramour could witness the immediate tightening harrowing her relaxed disposition. His ears could perhaps even hear the escalation in her fatigued heart's beats. An unamused scowl pulled at his aged features when his lover was forced to leave his side in effort to see to their predictable interruption. At least he had cheese. Watching idly out of the corner of his eyes, he busied himself with picking at the various goodies upon the platter. A man like Gavon was going to take full advantage. It wasn’t every day he got the full treatment.

 "My Lord..." she trailed, allowing the hinges to fully flex and reveal the object of her disguised terror.  He was tall, dressed in a long, Commander's waistcoat. The former Colonel of the Gilnean navy from many years prior had hardly aged.  He would not recall one of the Royale Guard, but he remembered the scarlet-haired siren quite well. Immediately, the woman's spine furled into a rigid, albeit gracious curtsy.  "I had not expected to see you until tomorrow," she noted, brow lofting as the door closed behind them. Color blanched subtly from her cheeks, leaving the rose cosmetics to contrast her freckles heavily.  Over his shoulder, she peered almost nervously at Gavon.

 It wasn’t until the door was opened that he put on airs again, his spine straightening and shoulders rolling back. Taking up one of the small plates, he continued to help himself to the collection of appetizers, albeit with a more dignified grace than previously.  He even used one of the silly little forks he could never quite hold right.

Try as he might to remain dismissive and cool, he couldn’t help but cut his stormy hues towards the Colonel taking up the doorway. A subtle quint had his gaze focusing studiously, and he quickly recalled the man even if he himself was not recognizable. Thankfully, the man was nothing if not a professional, and he harnessed his willpower to stow away any rising ire that a man such as the Colonel would come calling upon his young lover.

 "And you are the pianist I have heard so much about," intoned he, the liquid rasp and trimmed moustache betraying a cooked, thin-lipped smile upon his features, sporting a Grecian slope to his tawny nose.  Grey streaked the man's hair, side-shorn cut peppered with silver. He faced Gavon entirely. "I hope this is not your lover, Nahrsuada. Hearts would break, including my own," he'd murmur, reaching back to lay a balmy palm upon the woman's shoulder, every callous upon his digits gripping her a trice too tightly.  

"My wife would adore you all the more seeing as you brought such a handsome man to serenade her ears and fixations as well."

 A warm, delighted smile was elicited from the scoundrel, his eyes lightening with feigned interest. Gingerly setting down his plate on the table, he placed the fork quietly atop and then strode over with a sway to his hips towards the door before reaching out in an all too demure manner, almost as a lady might. When he spoke, what came would have been nothing short of hilarious under any other circumstance. A feminine inflection in his words came out with a slight lisp, “Oh, my, yesth, my lord, that would be me. Allow me to introduce mysthelf! I am Henry Von Gutermuth.” A polite bow of his head accompanied his hand being set upon the Colonel, and he could only surmise his little act would deter any notions that the… flaming pianist was a lover of the woman.

 Immediately, the Colonel's brow lofted, slowly panning toward Nahrsuada, where his gaze remained to rake over her features, lingering particularly between breasts and hips.   Knowing now that the man opposing him was no longer competition, he was ready to renew vestige upon the woman, his palm dragging to splay at the small of the bard's back, pads of his digits easing enough to ride the curve of her backside.  For all the slime that crawled beneath her flesh, the woman remained still readily kind.

 "Ah, well I hope these accommodations suit you both. Miss Fauste, I would quite like if, after your performance tomorrow evening, I may enjoy our reunion more intimately.  My wife will be calling upon me soon," he hinted, seeming to have dismissed the odds that such information would be irregular or even valuable to the queer companion belonging to the object of his affection.

A cheeky, dimpled smile came from the ‘pianist’ as the Colonel encroached further upon the bardlet, and he was quick to excuse himself from their reunion.  “Don’t mind me, thilliesth, I’m not here and I’m not hearing a word of this!” He exclaimed with his over the top strut right back to the fancy buffet while making a show of jamming his fingers into his ears. Despite being plugged, keen inhuman senses had him quite aware of every lecherous implication the Colonel was oozing, and with his back turned, Gavon’s teeth grit and he worked his jaw side to side, utterly seething while planning the man’s demise. Even the next cube of cheese was angrily tossed into his mouth and chewed hard.

The Lord turned to square off before her, hands coaxing down to her hips, neck craned in consideration.  "I look forward to your gifts again, Nahrsuada." The woman's smile remained painted, neutral and calm even as his invasive grip relished in her lithe frame.  

"My Lord Colonel, may I ask how Miss Sabrina is?" She inquired.  It was as if good news was going to be delivered with the way that sadistic smile broadened. In fact, his Lordship reflected pure elation at the very query.  

"She has had four beautiful children, but I am afraid she is... unavailable this evening, Miss Fauste."  

Ginger still, she responded, easing into a lingering curtsy, perhaps in a vein effort to slink away and out of a comfortable proximity.  His lips chased her cheek for a savory peck. "I look forward to seeing you both in your prime duality tomorrow, Mister Gutermuth and Miss Fauste.  I particularly look forward to some time to chat with you in your full regalia." Daring not to tarry, he near slithered from the room, offering but a nod to each of them.

 Nahrsuada neither crumbled nor erupted.  She stood, stepping forward to ensure the bolt was quietly eased into position, watching the shadow cast from his boots linger for a few moments before padding off.  She continued facing the door, lashes dimmed to a close as if her tendons had frozen into place. Her brow leaned forth, coming to rest upon the lukewarm mahogany.

 It spoke to great professionalism and willpower for Gavon to have kept up the charade through witnessing the sleezy Colonel paw upon his own lover in such a way. Patient and calculated as could be, he allowed his facade to remain fully intact all the while his mind was consumed with plotting.

Hearing the door close, and the bolt click, the old scoundrel immediately whipped around to stare hard at the fiery haired bard across the room. Wagging the tiny fork pinched between finger and thumb, he declared openly, “I won’t kill that bastard until after.”

 The woman was counting each of her breaths, feeling the instrumental drumming of her heart against her chest.  Upon righting herself, she rocked upon her heels, slipping out of the high-ankled riding boots and letting the wool-covered toes drag upon the tiles as she soundlessly traipsed toward the man.  Doe-like hues sulked some, both arms reaching to coil about her lover's waist, hoping to sear away the balmy touch of another with his own molten grip.

She said absolutely nothing to the man, tongue still toiling on how to even explain the rapport, the exchange.  Proverbial mites continued to crawl beneath her skin, gnawing at her resolve which only caused her arms to inch tighter around his waist.  No one entered or dared knock for some time. Perhaps, even, her anguish was well known and a whisper kept amongst the powerless servants who had grown numb to such instances.

 There was little that could be said. At least not without making matters worse. Gavon might have often been a fool, but sometimes his wisdom got the better of him. So instead of making any snarky comments, or even attempting to soothe her with words, he simply spoke with his body.  Arms slipped firmly around her and pulled her tight and securely to his chest, hoping the warmth against her might help. Occasionally his head would roll downward, and he would bury his lips into her curls, pressing lingering kisses there in effort to make her feel better about the situation.

However, he was still Gavon, and while they lingered there in silence for a time, a hand would sneak back to pluck a piece of cheese from the plate to lob it into his mouth and chew.

 The old scoundrel had just snared another cube of cheese and brought it to his mouth. Not quite making it to his lips, he got caught, his own mouth parted and eager to devour the snack. Guilty mirth glimmered in his stormy hues, and he watched her silently demand the cheese instead.  In another attempt to cheer up his young lover, his gaze flicked repeatedly back and forth between her lips and the cube pinched between his fingers, as if he was suffering from deep contemplation on whether or not to eat it or give it to her. Breaking into a quick grin, he relented and brought it to her outstretched tongue, dropping the cube directly upon the flat of it.

Only then did he dare utter any words.  "It'll be over soon, luv, and don't worry. He won't be able to grab at you ever again when I'm through with him."

 She closed her eyes when he finally placed the cube upon her tongue.  She quickly gobbled it, knowing he was devious enough to taunt her and immediately snipe the morsel from her jaw.  Under normal circumstances, he would have been that much of a dick, but right now his concern was solely focused upon the girl in his arms.  Leaning into her touch, his own hands roamed comfortingly, smoothing up along her spine with fingers crooking to ease into her flesh and muscle through her gown.  Returning the kiss in kind, he hummed before drawing back and listening to her, while his tongue worked around the inside of his bottom lip.

 Finally, she began to chew, savoring the mainland's product from the cattle. "Light I missed cheese not from Boralus," she hummed before considering his later comment.  Her palm raised, thumb brushing across his dimpled cheek. Balancing upon her toes, she was able to steal a kiss upon his pout whilst continuing to chew.

"I know.  I intend to watch his last breaths.  Gavon... While we are here, I have a few tasks.  He is... the last on my list. When he goes down, we need to be gone moments later.  The woman I asked him about... that woman knew my mother. I have... tracked down some details.  She was the one who helped me flee the first time. The Colonel gave her several children. Magically, she hung herself.  However, I doubt that is the case."

The details she shared had wheels churning in his mind, and when it was all said and done, he clicked his tongue and murmured gruffly, "I'm making an executive decision. I'm not killing him. I'm going to do far worse than that."

All too casually, he reached back as she did to snag yet another piece of cheese.  The hidden beast within apparently had a bottomless pit for a stomach. "I'll tell you what I mean," he remarked before lobbing the cube into his mouth. Starting to chew, his grin only spread and curled higher. Swallowing down with a small gulp, his head sunk downward, until lips dusted across the soft curve of her alabaster cheek, and inched toward her ear. A husky whisper came, one full of tantalizing promise, "If there's enough time, I'm going to introduce parts of the Colonel to what happens when a worgen plays with piano wire."

 Within their proximity, her right hand searched his left, letter their digits thread together while the opposing one fell upon his shoulder.  It was as if she posed for a waltz, even if her feet did not sway from present purchase. With her ear pressed parallel to his lips, the words stroked an uneasy flame within her, one which flashed with both comfort and the looming anxiety which had tethered blades of her shoulders together.  

"There is a part of me that is so used to handling these things alone, and I can only look to the wreckage we may cause.  I fear it," she confessed, her quiet appeal reaching for ear's shell. "It is strange having someone, for no profit, no benefit, no obligation, feel as you do."

 Nudging his lips closer, he pressed a warm, lingering kiss upon her slender ear while he took in her concerns. She would feel his lips brush and press harder against her sensitive flesh as he grinned against it, and then spoke further, sharing words as if he were spilling lecherous things, "There's plenty of benefit and profit to be had, luv, but no, that isn't why. I can't go explaining it, but know that you're in good hands. I have caused a lot of bloody wreckage in my day, and this? This is nothing. We'll be fine, but I don't want to drag you down that road if you don't wanna go. I can do it myself. 'Cause there's no goin' back."

Drawing back once more so that he could look upon her, their eyes met to grant a firm, assuring nod. Her throat folded, allowing each kiss shape each nuanced movement where his lips met flesh.  For now, each thistle within the layers of her skin had ebbed. She feared their initial touch, worried it would forever taint his caress.  

Relief allowed her muscles to chase each graze against her, molding flush against her.  The dream that was his shield held her eyes closed for the duration of his whispers, a pregnant pause lingering between them.  "I believe you," the finite confession came. "But there is no going back, for either of us. Nothing in this world will pull me from you, Gavon.  Each of the servants you have seen, they all wear pendants. They cannot remove them on their own, and they cannot be removed by another wearing them.  Mine is still in this estate. So is my mother's."

 Never one to take things seriously for too long, she would feel the creep of his fingers winding down along the arch of her back, and further, until his palms openly claimed hold of her backside. A confident smirk assured her, even as he gave a possessive squeeze to pull her ever tighter against him. It wasn't without purpose, however, as he remarked stupidly, "It's a bloody good thing I'm great with my hands, innit?"

Then his nose went higher into the air with a jerk of his head. "Or thould I sthay, Henry Von Gutermuth isth incredible. Jutht look at histh fingersth! All that piano playing!"

 She had forgotten entirely from the earlier shock of the colonel's presence that the ever lascivious, foul-mouthed mercenary had donned the persona of one far more outlandish in the showboated sexuality.  And with that, both palms swatted at his chest, a nasal snort catching her inhale as she continued to bump her brow against his sternum.

"Gutermuth..." She heaved through another audible snort brimming with still tense giggles.  She may not unwind fully within the presence of this particular estate, but he certainly granted her some respite.  "The lisp and that name... I think I've gone dry for the next month."

All it took was the clap of her palms against his chest to send him into a fit of laughter. The snorts only made matters worse, especially since he was trying to keep it down lest someone overhear them through the walls or door. Giving her ass one last playful squeeze, his hands smoothed up along her sides before coiling his arms tight about her shoulderblades to embrace her fully.  Still quaking with residual chuckles, he murmured gruffly, "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

 She had to forcibly bury her lips within his pectoral to mute the further erupting giggles which were well beyond her control.  "Yesth, Misther Gutermuth... Take me to your bed," She managed, near biting the breast of his coat to muffle even still. Eyes dimmed, breaths finally coming to settle within her lungs, apace with measured normalcy.  Pressing her cheek now upon the fine fabric, and continued to mash her petite frame against his.

"I could not be luckier than I am right this moment."

"EW!" came a high pitched, feminine reply. "Dithgusthing. Henry Von Gutermuth doesth not lay with women, thank youuu."  Despite his words, she would suddenly be swept into his arms with supernatural ease, a display of his often hidden strength drawing her up and draping her across as if she were but a bride being carried cross a threshold.

Stalking over towards the grand bed, he couldn't seem to stop the endless chuckles rumbling up from the depths of his chest. "Yeah, me either," he quipped honestly and looked down at the elven beauty in arms, giving her an appreciative wink.  Once they reached the tall mattress, he simply turned, leaned over, and draped her down across it.

Hoisted as if she weighed nothing, both arms readily draped around the back of his neck, peppering a small barrage of kisses upon his jaw before they arrived at the mattress.  She valued this closeness, his ability to turn a night which had haunted her longing for years into one that seemed... Palatable, the adoration he never failed to show.

Now stretched across the mattress, her fingers slipped from their webbing at the nape of his neck to secure both cheeks upon cool palms.  If allowed, she'd coax their lips together. "I need you always," confessed the petite little poet who so daintily stretched upon the down comforter.

 Though they both still wore their clothing, it didn't stop Gavon from crawling atop the beauty after lowering her down onto the enormous, plush bed.  Draping himself across her, he hummed pleasantly as their lips met once more, nudging his own in an enduring kiss. "And I'm never leavin' you, luv. Except when I have to go to the bathroom."

 @holtandthornetradingco @thegrimoirewra

[cyrelia-j]

[Ficlet] The Hunted (minor Garak/Bashir)

A twisted prompt fill for @dayoldhakarl Don’t say I didn’t warn you ;)

garashir for Sir Sly’s “Gold”

Summary: Everyone knows to fear the Hunters. Miles O’Brien is no different. And then he meets a man travelling alone in the English countryside.

Warnings: Horror

       “Are you Elim Garak?” The man asks the question as the two of them stand stopped at the overgrown roadside. He’s tall, slim, almost frail looking with a head of dark curly hair cut short, and hazel eyes that look out from dark circles. The man that he’s speaking to is older. His face is ruddy and pinched, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he regards the other. He’s heavier, the frayed flannel shirt layered over a dusty T shirt that says “Zombie”. The slender man has a few days’ stubble. It’s clear the older man with the light brown hair hasn’t shaved in weeks. He regards the slender young man with suspicion.

        “Not as I can tell. The two of you supposed to hook up here?” He speaks with a Dublin accent.

        “I don’t know,” the slender man answers. He’s looking out into the field past the tilted stone wall and chicken wire along the top. There aren’t any sheep in the field any longer.

        “S’not a good time for a fella to forget himself. Dangerous, you know?” The older man looks around furtively. The sun is starting to hang low on the horizon and he shifts from one foot to the other. He’s carrying a backpack and the barrel of an old rifle is visible behind it. The slender man is silent a moment then blinks at the statement.

        “Well, you’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” The slender man speaks more deliberately and his accent is more Southern English. He’s wearing a Smiths T shirt and jeans. His hands are tucked into the pockets, the bottoms hanging over red Converse that appear quite clean in comparison to the older Irish man’s brown work boots.

        “Family vacation,” the older man answers more tersely “Haven’t made it back home yet.” It’s suspicious to see a lone figure carrying nothing with them.

The Hunters are everywhere.

        “Right,” the slender Englishman says, looking past him discreetly. “Do you think I might walk with you a bit? I think I saw an old cottage off that way and well, you can see I’m not really in a position to defend it.” He gives a shrug, an apologetic smile. The Irishman barely relaxes.

        “What about this Garak fella? He comin’ ‘round any time soon?”

        “If he’s late, that’s his loss I suppose,” the slender man says with a small quirk of his mouth. “You know it’s not safe to wait around out here and I’d miss him terribly but ah… he can take care of himself.”

        “I don’t have nothin’ here ‘cept this old huntin’ rifle.”

        “I don’t have anything either. Just my company if you don’t mind a spot of chatter. I’m afraid I don’t always know when to keep quiet.”

        The older man snorts.

        “Maybe once upon a time I’d be cheesed off by a fella not knowin’ when to shut his gob but… S’pose it don’t matter so much now. Keep a little in front of me though, will ya? Yer leadin’ the way and all besides…” He steps back carefully into the road as the man walks slowly past him. Neither of them have a concern for vehicles. The cars attract too much attention to use. The slender man pauses as an afterthought and holds out a hand.

        “I’m Julian, by the way. Julian Bashir.” When he says that the other man rubs at his eyes and the tension goes out of his shoulders considerably.

        “Julian Bashir… Christ, I know you! Took second place in the Nationals that last year before…” He pauses here, that brief moment of respite. “Yah, ‘fore the world went to Hell.”

        “Would’ve been first if I hadn’t hit the wall,” Julian answers with a grin.

        “Yeah, literally, mate, bit of a tough break there.” He shakes Julian’s hand firmly. “Miles O’Brien. Honored. I used to play a little myself. Maybe coulda given you a run fer yer money too in my day.”

        “Well, the honor’s mine, I promise,” Julian says as he starts walking. “I haven’t seen another soul in I don’t know how many weeks. I was starting to worry that I was the last man on Earth or something.”

        “You and the Spoonies,” Miles answers falling into step beside him.

        He doesn’t see Julian’s step nearly miss at that.

        “The Hunters. They’ve done a thorough cleansing. The last I heard, Wales was nothing but ash after The Fire.”

        “Makes ya wonder what they’re even saving this shit for.”

        “Hunting,” Julian answers finding a break in the stone wall and stepping through it. “The house is this way. I don’t think anyone else would have found it since I passed it earlier. It was pretty well hidden from the road. I… don’t mean to pry but are you alone or is your family-”

        “Gone,” comes the strangled reply. “Gone quick,” Miles continues with a whisper. “Keiko, Molly, Yoshi... You?” He picks up his pace after answering that question, as if now just becoming aware of how exposed they are in the open field.

        Julian matches his paces but doesn’t seem particularly hurried.

        “My mother and father. It wasn’t quick for my father.” There’s another small quirk of his mouth at that one. “It shouldn’t be much further- just on past the tree here.” He walks closer and looks at it a moment. “Right, this is it then.” He turns his head, hands back in his pockets. “It’s a left here back a ways.”

        “Sure we’ll make it ‘fore dark? Ya know their eyes in the dark… like bloody pit vipers.”

        “I thought all the snakes got driven out?” Julian teases.

        “Apparently not all of them,” Miles says with a snort. “Hear they can smell ya too. I try and keep clean, try and mask it with dirt otherwise. Don’t eat anything too fragrant. You ever see one of those fuckin’ lizard monsters they got?”

        “Riding hounds,” Julian corrects automatically as they walk deeper into the forest.

        “Hounds is it eh? Not like an yhound I ever seen and my da’ kept plenty fer huntin’. Ya sure we’re goin’ the right way?” Miles asks as the thick tree covering casts darkness over them both. Julian shrugs unconcerned.

        “There’s a tributary running around up ahead. We can burn the bridge after we cross it.”

        “Sorry mate, ‘fraid I don’t have a light. ‘sides, the fire might attract ‘em this way....” Julian reaches into his pocket and takes out a lighter in response.

        “For my cigarettes,” he explains with another shrug. “I know it’s an awful habit and there’s not really anywhere to find them anymore. I like to be prepared when I can though.” Miles snorts.

        “Christ you patio people and yer fags. Nothin’ on ya but yer fags and a lighter. My da’ used to smoke the damn things. S’probably what killed ‘im.”

        Julian doesn’t immediately answer him, searching around, finally pausing and raising a finger.

        “Right, there it is.” He indicates a bridge far off in the distance though Miles doesn’t seem to be able to see it. Still, he expresses relief as Julian leads him closer to the fast rush of water and the old wooden bridge over it. “But I suppose you’re right. The fire would attract them, wouldn’t it?” he murmurs softly, looking back out into the darkness across the water.

        “Jeez, ya think? It’s a wonder they haven’t got ya before now. Gotta figure this Garak fella must be lookin’ out right good for ya. Bloody Spoonies… You ever seen one up close? Nasty looking buggers, they-”

        “There it is,” Julian interrupts him, gesturing again through the dark woods. “It’s been overrun with ivy but I think that’s for the best. It makes it more difficult to find.”

        Julian takes the lead, Miles carefully walking behind him. He walks faster through the brush, the path long overgrown and Miles curses as the ground grows uneven and he nearly trips.

        “Oi, look, I know we gotta take cover ‘for long but I’d rather not break a leg in the process.” He’s breathing heavier from the extra weight of hit kit. Julian stops so that he can catch up but he doesn’t turn around.

        “Ah, sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Right, break a leg that’d make it pretty hard to run, wouldn’t it?” he says with a soft nervous laugh.

        “We can’t all be Racquetball champs, ya know,” Miles says clapping a hand on Julian’s shoulder.

        “No… we can’t all be… there it is now, do you see the path?” Julian follows a few more steps, brushing Miles hand off him.

        “Can’t say that I…” He trails off as Julian stops in front of what appears to be a massive ivy wall. “Well I’ll be damned.”

        Julian pushes the door open and for a moment the pitch back of the inside makes the dark woods look almost bright by comparison.

        “What’d I tell you? Watch your step.” Miles follows him quickly.

        “Think ya might make use of that lighter, mate?” he asks as he shuts the door behind them. “Not all of us are bloody English owls here. S”funny. Used to think the bombings were the worst thing I ever lived through.” Miles sets the backpack down by feel, hand lingering on the rifle a moment before takes it up. “Never thought it’d come a day when I’d miss The Troubles.” His hands have a faint tremor to them. “Shoulda been in Monaghan in ’74…” He stops at the sound of footsteps.

        “Shit,” he swears under his breath as he raises the weapon. “Julian get back,” he whispers under his breath, reaching out in front of him. Mile’s hand on Julian’s shoulder turns him around.

It’s then that he realizes Julian’s eyes are glowing green in the darkness of the room.

        “Oh God… yer one of them,” he chokes out as the gun is snatched from his shaking grip and thrown back into the house, firing off with a loud bang and a flash of light. He takes a step back going for the door, blinded when Julian flicks the lighter on. There’s a figure behind him. The door won’t open. The shadows bounce off the cruel ridges if its face as that scant light illuminates the Hunter. Miles nearly trips over his bag as he steps sideways. The Hunter smiles at Julian wickedly before seizing his mouth in a long kiss, a stream of red swapped between the both of them.

        “God, that’s bloody brilliant,” Julian gasps as the Hunter takes the lighter, letting it go out. There’s a crash as Miles blindly stumbles towards the direction where the gun was thrown. The Hunter takes Julian’s hand in the darkness.

        “Such a thoughtful gift, my dear,” it purrs against his mouth. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

[redvsvblue]

Ta-da, some sfw demon AU Thanksgiving fic for all your escapism needs!  (There, uh…aren’t actually many Thanksgiving elements in this because I’ve never done it, so. Sorry. Whoops.) 

Jeremy leans against his desk and crosses his arms after lighting the bowl, casually crossing his ankles and fixing his gaze upon the middle of the circle.

Ryan appears in a flash of dramatic smoke, grinning as he dissipates it with a wave – he pauses for a second, looking Jeremy up and down, before copying his pose, leaning against an invisible thing – or perhaps magically balancing – and crossing his arms and ankles.

“So, what is it this time? Shattered mug?” Ryan teases. Jeremy huffs out a laugh.

“Nah,” he says, rolling his lip between his teeth thoughtfully. “My friends want to meet you,” he continues. He drops his arms to grip the edge of the desk – Ryan mimics him, fingers curling around an invisible copy.

“Oh, do they?” Ryan asks, imitating the shake of Jeremy’s shoulders.

“Hey, stop it,” Jeremy says, uncrossing his ankles to stand on two feet – Ryan does the same.

“Stop what?”

“This,” Jeremy waves his hand quickly in front of his face and Ryan mirrors it perfectly, easily following Jeremy’s more and more ridiculous gestures until Jeremy gives up and laughs. Jeremy leans forward to sit his ass more on the desk and Ryan copies it. Jeremy narrows his eyes. Ryan grins.

“So, you told them about me?” Ryan asks, sitting more fully on his invisible desk.

“No,” Jeremy says haltingly. “They, uh, they know I’m…involved with someone. Want to meet him.”

“Mhm.”

“And, uh, well, I mean, Geoff’s holding a Thanksgiving thing and everyone else’ll have their partners and – I don’t know, thought it seemed like a good time to – introduce you?”

“You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?” Ryan asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Jeremy teases back.

“And what do I get out of it?” Ryan continues. “Apart from your company.”

Jeremy’s ears heat up a touch and he clears his throat to keep his expression firmly in place, crossing his arms again to smirk smugly at Ryan.

“It’s a cookout,” he says.

“Oh, done.”

– 

“Hey, Jeremy!” Geoff exclaims when he opens the door, pulling Jeremy in for a one-armed hug and shaking Ryan’s hand at the same. “And - ?”

“Ryan,” Jeremy says, before Ryan can make up some ridiculous name for himself – by the look on his face, Jeremy was right to speak first.”

“Ryan. Nice to meet ya!” Geoff claps Jeremy on the shoulder as he pulls away to lead them in, the door shutting firmly behind them as they trail through the warm house.

“I’ll say, they kinda got started already,” Geoff murmurs as they approach the patio doors at the back, the scent of barbecue and smoke drifting in along with happy laughter.

“They’re a – rowdy bunch,” Jeremy says to Ryan. Geoff scoffs.

“That’s one way to put it,” he says, and claps a hand to Ryan’s shoulder. “Ryan, what can I get ya? We got beer, whiskey – I think Michael brought eggnog or somethin’ - “

“Do you have any soda?” Ryan asks. “I, uh, I don’t drink. Someone’s got to drive him home, right?”  He jokes, pointing at Jeremy.

“Oh, you’ll fit in just fine, buddy,” Geoff says cryptically. “Yeah, go ‘head, I’ll come out with drinks. Jeremy, beer okay?”

“Yeah, thanks, Geoff,” Jeremy says, flashing him a smile before Geoff disappears to the kitchen and Jeremy leads Ryan outside.

“Lil J!” Gavin yells, holding out his arms to beckon him over as Meg shouts with Lindsay about something, Gavin himself pinned down by Meg lying on his legs.

“Gav!” Jeremy calls back, giving him a high-five. “Gavin, this is Ryan. Ryan, Gavin.”

“Ryan! ‘S lovely to meet you!” Gavin exclaims, looking upside-down at Ryan as Ryan peers over the chair at him.

“You too,” he says politely, laughing at Gavin’s yelp when Meg’s elbow accidentally slips into his junk.

“Meg!”

“Oh, sorry, sorry!” Meg says, laughing as she pats Gavin’s thigh.

“Yeah, your one ball okay?” Lindsay asks dryly – Gavin pulls a face at her and Michael appears at Jeremy’s other side with a beer in hand, his arm landing heavy around his shoulders.

“Excuse dumbass here,” Michael says to Ryan, gesturing to Gavin. “I’m Michael.”

“Hey!” Gavin shouts.

“And that’s Jack over there,” Michael continues calmly, pointing to the lawn chair Jack’s lounging in by the barbecue, watching idly until Geoff comes over to hand him a drink and a kiss.

“That’s Lindsay, my wife. And that’s Meg.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ryan says – Geoff nudges a can of Coke into his hand and Ryan thanks him before turning back to Jeremy and Michael.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees with a devilish smile. “Heard a lot about you.”

“You haven’t heard shit,” Jeremy says.

“Oh, Jeremy - “ Michael suddenly gets tugged down by an arm around his waist and lands hard on the deck chair, only barely missing sitting on Gavin - “shit, Gav!”.

“Michael boi, Michael, where’s that – where’s that place you were talkin’ about? With the spires?”

“The – what?”

“In bloody – Skyrim.”

“Man, I don’t know, Skyrim’s your game.”

“Yeah, well, they’re saying two bloody different answers!” And Jeremy loses track of their conversation as Michael blends into the argument, one hand resting on Gavin’s thigh.

“So, these are – my friends,” Jeremy says lamely, watching as Ryan sips his drink.

Ryan nods and glances over at Jack, lifting his can to Jeremy as he takes a step back.

“Where – Where are you going?” Jeremy asks. “Ryan, where.”

“I believe the term is…mingling,” Ryan says, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he slips away to walk over to Jack and Geoff.

Jeremy briefly considers following him but a hand snags his shirt before he can go and he’s dragged – physically and verbally – into the loud Skyrim argument playing out over four lawn chairs and among four – now five – different people.

– 

Ryan’s embroiled in a very loud, very heated discussion with Gavin an hour later over dinner, holding a burger in one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other as he talks. But he’s laughing between each sentence and Gavin can barely hold himself together enough to reply and Lindsay’s quick comments aren’t helping either of them. Jeremy’s heart seizes up with something as he looks at Ryan from across the little circle of chairs, bantering with Jeremy’s friends and breaking his shouting to tell Geoff how good the burgers are before he goes right back into it.

And Geoff was right, he does fit in just fine – more than fine, actually, he fits in amazingly well. It’s only been an hour and a half but he seems to mesh with everybody – from Geoff to Meg, and not once has Jeremy had to step in for anything. God, even Jack likes him.

The barbecue is actually incredibly delicious, and Michael’s licking sauce off of his fingers as he and Geoff talk about the new Marvel film and as Jack and Jeremy chime in with idle commentary when they can. The sun’s only start to set, too, the sky fading to a dimmer blue above them and making Geoff’s and Jack’s house seem to glow, the comforting yellow of their lamps pouring out onto the stone patio.

Gradually the shouting dies down to conversation and laughter, plates set down and seconds respectfully declined – except for Ryan, who eats two plates of his own and Jeremy’s leftovers.

“Jesus, you should bring him more often,” Geoff says, “I love him.”

“You’re only saying that because he ate all of his vegetables,” Jack points out. “And Jeremy’s.”

“I can’t help that Michael hates green shit!”

“Speaking of green shit,” Meg says from Jeremy’s other side, untangling her legs to stand up. She cracks her back with a satisfied sigh and looks down at them, cocking an eyebrow.

“I’m gettin’ drinks, you want any?” She asks.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Jeremy says, lifting his empty beer to indicate the same thing.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Geoff replies. “Thanks.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jack says, and Meg nods before picking up her plate and her cutlery to go put that away as well.

Jeremy excuses himself briefly to go sit down next to Ryan – Ryan shoots him a greeting and rests a hand on his back as he returns to his conversation with Gavin. Meg walks over to get to the house, but before she squeezes between Gavin and Lindsay she drops a kiss to Gavin’s cheek and effectively flusters him.

“Hey, where’s mine?” Lindsay asks, and Meg turns to peck her on the mouth, giggling when Lindsay pinches her cheek – a habit she’s picked up from Michael. While Gavin’s distracted, Ryan leans back and into Jeremy to shoot Jeremy a questioning look.

“They’re all together, yeah?” He murmurs quietly. “Those four?”

“I – uh, yeah,” Jeremy says, mildly surprised that Ryan just – accepts it with a nod.

“Okay,” he says. “Just making sure I’m not getting it wrong.”

“That’s…not the reaction most people have.”

“Jeremy. Please. You forget where I’m from,” Ryan teases. “A group relationship is the least weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. And it’s not the first one I’ve seen, either.”

Jeremy nods and Ryan kisses his cheek – the first kiss he’s given Jeremy all night and Jeremy’s cheeks flare up. Lindsay notices and shoots him a wink and Jeremy just burns even brighter.

– 

When night truly falls, swift and dark, they relocate inside – Geoff and Ryan hang back to take care of the grill and Jeremy follows the others inside to collapse on Geoff’s and Jack’s plush sofas, someone loading up an Xbox and someone else handing out controllers.

Ryan plops down right next to Jeremy when he gets in, pressing up hot against his side and kissing his cheek again. Jeremy gives him the controller he saved.

“You know how to play?” He asks.

“You insult me, Jeremy,” Ryan says, shooting him a grin. “Y’know, some people would consider video games sinful.”

“Would they.”

“Not where I’m from, but I’ve definitely heard that kinda talk.”

“Where are you from?” Meg cuts in from the other side of Ryan, crossing her legs under her. “You don’t sound quite Texas.”

“Me?” Ryan asks, leaning back against the sofa to look at both of them. Jeremy silently prays that he’ll tell the story they agreed on.

“Georgia, originally,” Ryan says, and Jeremy breathes a sigh of relief. “Moved around a lot, and now I’m here.”

“Yeah? What do you do here?”

“Currently? Tech support.”

“Wow, nerd,” Meg teases, and Ryan laughs pleasantly.

“Sure, says the girl who went to an anime con two weeks ago,” he retorts - “Shut up!” Meg squeaks, slapping his arm “Jeremy, your boyfriend’s terrible.”

“One of yours doesn’t know the plot of Star Wars!” Jeremy shouts. “Even I know that!”

“We’re workin’ on it!” Michael hollers from the other end of the sofa.

“Did you get through prequels?” Ryan calls back.

“Not yet!” Michael replies. “Just finished seven!”

“Yeah, for the second time,” Meg says. “He fucking fell asleep the first time!”

“It’s not like Jeremy’s seen anythin’!”

“At least I know it’s called Star Wars, Gavin!”

– 

The video games are ridiculous and chaotic as they always are – Geoff and Michael dressing up their characters in Thanksgiving-themed outfits, Lindsay claiming everything for America (in the true style of the colonists, she says – Ryan snorts softly and nods knowingly beside Jeremy), Gavin being a general shitstorm, and Ryan – well, being the “weirdest fuck in the room”, as Michael colourfully puts it at one point. Really, all he’s doing is enabling Gavin’s odd ideas, but those never turn out well for anyone, and Jeremy’s character ends up dead multiple times directly due to Gavin’s flamethrower idea.

The night drags on, mini ice-cream tubs get passed around at some point courtesy of Jack, and the video games get forgotten in favour of light chatter – Lindsay dozes off on Michael’s shoulder and Michael doesn’t move her even as he fucks Geoff up in – whatever they’re playing now, Jeremy lost track two discs ago.

People start gathering themselves up when the clock ticks round to midnight, the TV turned off and empty dishes and glasses taken to the kitchen as Michael and Meg wake Lindsay and Gavin and start going about getting their shit together to leave.

“You’re good to drive, right?” Jack asks when he sees them out.

“Yeah, Meg’s got us,” Michael laughs, slinging an arm over Meg’s shoulders. “She’s designated.”

“I get to corral their drunk asses into the car,” Meg says. “Yippee.”

“Drive safe!” Geoff hollers before the door falls shut behind them.

“I, uh, I’ll stay and help you clean up a bit,” Jeremy says, and Jack lets him with a shrug as they go to pick up the stray pieces of trash in the living room.

Later finds Jeremy in the kitchen with Geoff, sipping from a water bottle as the dishwasher runs beside them. Jack’s shower runs in the distance, and Ryan excused himself to take a piss a minute ago.

“So,” Geoff says, settling in against the counter and raising an eyebrow. “Ryan, huh.”

Jeremy nods. “Yeah. Ryan.”

“I like him.”

“Yeah, I – I do, too,” Jeremy says quietly. “He’s, uh – I’m glad I met him.”

“Thanks for bringing him,” Geoff says sincerely, patting Jeremy’s shoulder. “I mean it, I loved talking to him.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says slowly. Flatly.

“Jeremy? What is it, buddy?” Geoff’s eyebrow knit together and his voice drops lower. “Are – Are you not on good terms or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Jeremy says hastily, his eyes darting away from Geoff’s concerned expression. “I just, uh. Haven’t. Nah, it’s stupid.”

“Jeremy.”

“I haven’t – told him. That I. Y’know.” Jeremy swallows thickly and his voice dips into a shaky whisper. “Love him.”

“Jeremy – hey, Jeremy,” Geoff says softly, encouraging Jeremy to look up at him. “Hey.”

“It’s stupid - “ Jeremy starts, and Geoff shushes him. God, Geoff doesn’t even know the half of it.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Geoff says. “But if what I’ve seen tonight is any indication, I think you’ll find you’re not the only one.”

Jeremy stares into Geoff’s eyes for another moment before swallowing and nodding slightly, dropping his gaze so he doesn’t feel quite so on the spot – Geoff withdraws to lean against the counter again and Jeremy twists open his bottle.

“Hey,” Ryan says as he rounds the corner from the hallway, settling against Jeremy’s side and easily looping an arm around his back. “Are we going yet?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, smiling at the gentle squeeze of Ryan’s arm around his waist. “I’m sure Geoff wants us gone,” he teases.

“Ah, you know I love you,” Geoff says, ushering them out of the kitchen.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he shakes hands with Ryan again on the threshold of the front door. “Really, we all loved meeting ya.”

“I enjoyed myself,” Ryan replies with a grin. “Really, thank Jeremy for bringing me.”

“Oh, I did,” Geoff says. “Thoroughly.”

“With his mouth,” Jeremy adds, tacking on a wink to make it filthy.

“You wish,” Geoff retorts, and after a few more fond goodbyes, Jeremy and Ryan turn their back on the house and head to Jeremy’s car.

“You okay?” Ryan asks while Jeremy’s pulling his seatbelt on.

“Me? Yeah, why?”

Ryan shrugs. “I dunno, you seemed – off. When I came back.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jeremy says, flashes him a smile to prove it. “Really, Ryan, it was nothing.”

“Okay,” Ryan says. He curls his fingers around Jeremy’s and squeezes once before returning his hand to the wheel to turn out into the street, and this time Jeremy doesn’t even register the touch as unusual.

– 

“Thanks, by the way, for, uh, for doing that,” Jeremy says when they’re back at his place, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, I could always trade you a proper favour in return?”

“Nah,” Ryan says, waving a dismissive hand from the middle of the summoning circle. “I didn’t do much, anyway.”

“I don’t know what your definition of ‘much’ is, but you definitely convinced them.” Jeremy laughs and leans against his desk. “I didn’t know they taught acting in hell.”

Ryan laughs brightly and crosses his arms.

“They don’t.”

“Natural talent, then?” Jeremy teases.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Jeremy,” Ryan says, leaning in a little as he readies his fingers to snap. Jeremy cocks an eyebrow.

“The only acting I did was pretending I was human,” Ryan says, raising an eyebrow that practically screams read between the lines.

Jeremy does.

Jeremy flushes badly.

Ryan smirks and snaps himself away.

[theserpentsqueen]

10 Things Everyone Hates About Stamped Concrete Walkway Pictures

Whether you’re seeking to renovate your existing walkways or insert a brand new concrete walkway to enrich your house’s architecture and landscaping, stained concrete helps you to incorporate character and new depths of coloration on your walkways, increase security, and enhance suppress attractiveness.

Stamped concrete costs about $4,500 for a whole installation. As a result of craftmanship of stamped concrete, you'll likely would like to employ a concrete contractor who concentrates on stamped, stained, and polished concrete for any repairs.

Flatten the walkway, set the borders and lay inside your gravel and you also’ll have a all-natural-searching walkway. Just be sure you rake the stones to maintain The trail smoother and refill it with additional gravel as needed to keep the walkway.

Resurfacing involves cleansing and fixing any current damage then making use of a small layer of concrete or concrete blended with resin into the floor. This could raise patio pricing but will help lengthen your repaired patio's lifespan and protect from long term cracks.

Create a stunning walkway away from pavers without breaking your back as well as your pocket. DIYing this job is not really complicated.

All You must do is lay out the edging and distribute the mulch all over your flat stones or stepping stones.

Hot temperature is nearly in this article! Our relatives likes to Perform online games, shell out some evenings popping corn and viewing films, or just unwind outdoors your home through summer season.

Allow’s give our floors a look they are often very pleased about, a look that is developed to withstand all of the trampling without demonstrating any signs of cracking or withering. Enable’s give our flooring the makeovers they are entitled to! At Marrocco’s Stamped Concrete, we specialise in furnishing…Read More

Just one opportunity drawback of working with pavers is really a result of the Areas amongst them. Pavers are vulnerable to weeds rising throughout the cracks involving the individual paver stones.

​Installing stamped concrete flooring is a great method to save lots of funds throughout the remodelling method. Stamped concrete is concrete that has really been controlled all over the pouring process to Stick to the sample of A variety of pure solutions like wood, cobblestone, brick and fossils.

For the reason that each paver is a person piece, you don't have to bother with pavers cracking from force or settling on the floor. As pavers start to settle, they may loosen, which can make a journey hazard, but personal pavers are quickly removed and changed.

Listed here we have a multicolored stamped concrete poolside patio showcasing a London cobble pattern design and style.

It is usually extremely important to find the grading just right with a concrete installation, as it might be a really costly error to repair after the the concrete has long been poured. Incorrect concrete grading can lead to small spots which can keep water, leaving discolorations and staining.

You may opt to identify address dilemma spots; nevertheless, the addressed areas will typically end up looking like a patch or band-aid, because it is very difficult to match the color of the current concrete slab.

[nightmare-afton-cosplay]

Breaking Bad? Contaminated Home in Colorado Mountains Is the Week’s Most Popular House

realtor.com

Tucked among the pines in Evergreen, CO, is a charming cabin with a checkered past. It was previously used as a meth cook house and remains contaminated at potentially dangerous levels. The listing details read like something out of “Breaking Bad” and helped make the hazardous home this week’s most popular place on realtor.com®.

The good news? A buyer could score a great deal on the mountain property listed for $275,000. But the large chemical caveat looms—the place will probably need to be scraped and/or remediated to remove any remnants of hazardous substances. So how badly do you want to live in the mountains, anyway?

The Colorado cook house isn’t the only offbeat property you clicked on this week. Our list is full of quirky properties with privacy to spare, including a circular house on 8 acres in New York, a modern farmhouse on 7 acres in Georgia, and a wild underground bunker buried under the southern Arizona desert.

It’s a list brimming with quirky properties for people who like to do their own thing away from prying eyes—within the boundaries of the law, of course.

Scroll on down for all of this week’s most popular homes…

10. 1809 Hattie Cir, Winston-Salem, NC 

Price: $105,900

Why it’s here: A trip back to the midcentury and priced to move! This bargain-priced four-bedroom was built in 1958 and doesn’t appear to have changed much since then. The dusty property includes a circular driveway, carport, and a fenced backyard. Inside, there’s a two-sided brick fireplace, built-ins, and slate flooring in the entry.

Winston-Salem, NC

realtor.com

———

9. 112 Branch St, Medford, NJ

Price: $399,000

Why it’s here: Log cabin life within easy range of Philly? Originally constructed in 1887, this historic log house sits just a few blocks from Medford’s downtown and only 20 miles east of Philadelphia. An owner’s suite was added in 1992, bringing the home to a total of four bedrooms and more than 2,500 square feet. Outside, the lush yard includes patios, a pool, and a covered bar area for entertaining.

Medford, NJ

realtor.com

———

8. 821 Hawthorne Ave, Williamsport, PA 

Price: $344,900

Why it’s here: The curb appeal is readily apparent. This striking field-stone and mortar-front home was designed by Richard Brognard Okie and built in 1937. With three bedrooms and more than 2,300 square feet, its interior highlights include wide-plank wood floors, cherry bookcases, and a formal living room. It is situated on a roomy corner lot, and its outdoor spaces include patios and gardens.

Williamsport, PA

realtor.com

———

7. 1077 Attakapas Rd, St. Martinville, LA

Price: $185,000

Why it’s here: The decor in this barn is a must-see. Off the beaten path and bespoke in almost every way, this one-and-a-half story barn house has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and 1,900 square feet. Outside, there’s an in-ground pool, barbecue, and lush lawns. Inside, the house features a large owner’s suite on the first floor, with two closets. A spiral staircase leads to the kitchen, living room, balcony, and two guest rooms, which have their own access, making this a possible rental income opportunity.

St. Martinville, LA

realtor.com

———

6. 401 Stoners Rd NW, Adairsville, GA

Price: $479,000

Why it’s here: Built for sustainability and completed in 2017, this modern farmhouse sits on a private 7-acre lot. Inside, touches like a top-of-the-line kitchen and barn wood ceiling in the family room add style to the airy interiors. Outdoors, the property has 5 acres of wooded trails and a fenced garden with grape vines, peach and cherry trees, as well as a gooseberry bush.

Adairsville, GA

realtor.com

———

5. 321 Wisconsin River Dr, Port Edwards, WI

Price: $179,000

Why it’s here: Elegant from every angle, this home from 1920 has been fully restored and welcomes guests into a bright glass front porch with French doors. Inside, the five-bedroom house has crown molding, hardwood floors, and classic white detailing. Large windows and a second-floor sunroom offer views of the Wisconsin River.

Port Edwards, WI

realtor.com

———

4. 63514 E. Highway 77, Oracle, AZ

Price: $495,000

Why it’s here: Once the home to a Cold War-era nuclear weapon, this underground Titan II missile silo was built to last. It still features intact duct work, conduits, and fixtures. Back above ground, the nearly 12-acre property has gorgeous views of the Santa Catalina Mountains. The site is under video surveillance and will only be shown to serious, qualified buyers—sorry, the curious aren’t welcome.

Oracle, AZ

realtor.com

———

3. 3255 Lagrange Dr, Somerville, TN

Price: $349,900

Why it’s here: Originally built in 1869 and fully renovated in 2018, this home is ready for move-in. The open layout is light and airy and now features new electrical and plumbing systems. A new kitchen and new bathrooms make this home a historic gem with no-muss maintenance, tucked on a private, 5-acre lot.

Somerville, TN

realtor.com

———

2. 1473 Roosevelt Hwy, Hilton, NY

Price: $425,000

Why it’s here: Private, contemporary, and filled with light, this four-bedroom roundhouse has more than 2,500 square feet, with a sunroom, bamboo flooring, and walk-in closets in every bedroom. Outside, the home has a private backyard, gas fireplace, and three-car garage with electrical and heat. There’s also a barn with 12-foot ceilings on the property for a workshop or storage.

Hilton, NY

realtor.com

———

1. 5076 Camel Heights Rd, Evergreen, CO

Price: $275,000

Why it’s here: When you see these words in the listing description, you can’t help but be a little curious: “Entrance to the residence is STRICTLY PROHIBITED due to meth contamination unless buyer is accompanied by someone certified under Colorado law for such entry.”

But buyers who aren’t bothered by a bit of chemical contamination could score a great deal on a gorgeous property among the pines, covering a third of an acre. Being sold as-is, the three-bedroom cabin was built in 1956 and will either need to be torn down or completely remediated.

Evergreen, CO

realtor.com

The post Breaking Bad? Contaminated Home in Colorado Mountains Is the Week’s Most Popular House appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

from https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/contaminated-meth-house-colorado-mountains-most-popular/

[sirscrewloose]

How Successful People Make The Most Of Their Concrete Walkways Diy

Position an edger trowel amongst cement and sort and drag bit by bit (lifting front conclude a little) together your complete size to produce a clear edge. Clean out traces and repeat process along Just about every edge of the walkway.

We've applied Avi and his crews before, they put stamped cement in our backyard, Additionally they remodeled our kitchen area. This time we needed to put stamped cement over the aspect of our house. The crew came in and did a beautiful career, cleaned up anything and did what precisely I required, which was to slope the cement making sure that h2o would not Create up at my porch.

Its very long lifecycle eliminates the necessity for regular restore or upkeep, which makes it cost effective and fewer time-consuming when it comes to being forced to clear or mend the construction. In any case, if it does have to have mend, we’ll be joyful to supply you with offers from concrete sidewalk repair businesses near you.

Homewyse strongly recommends that you Call trustworthy gurus for an precise evaluation of labor required and costs for your undertaking - before you make any selections or commitments.

As soon as their assignments are accomplished, the members log in to their accounts and finish a brief cost survey.

It happens on several events that individuals realize that our charges are so competitive that we sometimes satisfy or defeat pricing on CONCRETE Solid STONE Bids.

As an experienced certified dwelling improvement contractor, I realize first hand what it should really cost for numerous levels — from Fundamental, Far better, and naturally the best. This Stamped Concrete Walkways estimator will offer you with up-to-date pricing for the area.

Our patio appeared Wonderful and now we like stamped cement and The complete approach was amazing to watch. Nir as well as the total Patio group did a great occupation. All right, here’s a short description of your gatherings and approach, very first they dig up your previous patio (which was hard work), rope and board off The brand new patio with your design and style (which we modified a couple of occasions), then get ready the patio with rebar wire. The truck comes out a few days afterwards pours the cement (whichever shade you pick), they distribute out the cement, and after that they just take these massive stampers and stamp their very little hearts out on the patio. Wonderful encounter to watch! They have been on leading of everything and the finished Patio was Awesome. So, not surprisingly we asked for an estimate on our kitchen area, you know what transpired next, Of course we signed a contract. For your personal contracting function, we hugely And that i imply very recommend using the services of Resourceful Residence Transforming (Avi), since they worked like outrageous with us and did a superb occupation. Thanks for almost everything, you are the very best!

I found Collins Construction on Angie's list and acquired a estimate. They did An excellent task eliminating the present brick patio, pouring a fresh concrete patio and building a lovely patio go over. Mr. Collin's crew came after they mentioned they'd.

Our recent experience with Patios by B&B has become so astounding we really feel compelled to share it with fellow Angie's Checklist subscribers and to sing their praises. We were contemplating transforming our 320 sq. ft patio considering that going in to our condominium in 2010. This calendar year we determined it absolutely was last but not least time to complete the undertaking as we experienced efficiently saved the cash to do so. We solicited bids from 4 contractors, all of which are shown in this article on Angie's Checklist. Soon after receiving bids from three of these, which isn't atypical in the world of dealing with contractors, we in the end decided on Patios by B&B Though their created bid was not the bottom nor was it the best. The main enthusiasm for our determination was the A+ rating with The l. a. Better Business Bureau, large score and accolades from one other reviewers on this Web-site. Jeff Goldman from Patios by B&B was the consummate Expert beginning with our Preliminary Speak to, through challenge completion. We contacted Jeff, and Certainly he answered his cellphone and returned phone calls immediately, and within 2 days we were being meeting with him inside our household to discuss the choices for our patio remodel. Jeff served us with all the things from supplies, timing and finances. We laid out a system and he drew up a agreement. Jeff was particularly hectic specified the Spring time Hence the agreement was not drawn up as rapidly as we want on the other hand, upon receipt of it, we were being more than happy with the extent of depth. The deal integrated the scope of labor all the way down to the volume of dirt for being excavated, what substance would be useful for the base, screed and pavers, the payment schedule and perhaps the pitch in the pavers to permit for right drainage. For our 2nd consultation, Jeff brought with him the deal to indicator and samples of the pavers we experienced chosen. Viewing the samples in human being as opposed to just in the catalog is significant as lights has an enormous effect on appearance. This was an essential and pleasant touch of customer care. Immediately after signing the contract, we agreed on the start out day and time. Jeff assigned Gabrielle given that the foreman for this undertaking and we could not have already been happier. Gabrielle and his crew ended up pretty courteous, professional, hardworking, diligent, cleanse and meticulous. As a result of configuration of our patio - Positioned involving the house plus the garage - usage of the patio was cumbersome. The team nevertheless did not bat an eyelash or complain the moment throughout the whole set up after they traversed the six stairs up and down from the patio to garage to get rid of the rocks, concrete and particles in the old patio through the bucket load.

If you're planning to use out your challenge, you can find not Significantly point in calculating materials or perhaps doing all of your personal estimating of a concrete walkway cost; Allow regional contractors do it for yourself. They're going to be satisfied to come back about, go over your aims and funds, and supply a detailed bid for the entire task -- all for free. For accurate comparison, get not less than a few bids and ensure all the candidates are bidding the same occupation; Put simply, You should not receive a rate for just a standard broom-textured walkway from one bidder and compare it to a flowery stamped and stained remedy from A different.

Household walkways or paths are non-public and so the homeowner’s (or HOA’s) fiscal accountability. Example: The trail out of your driveway to front porch.

nine Minimize PAVERS When you'll want to Minimize pavers to suit into your required pathway pattern, measure, mark and use a concrete observed or a moist saw outfitted with a concrete blade.

This tends to not fulfill you for a client and would just be a waste of the time and expense. As a result, it is usually recommended to acquire a specialist who makes a speciality of concrete sidewalk jobs to make certain that the perform is skillfully and properly completed.

[k-luuv]

5 Things Everyone Gets Wrong About Concrete Walkways Near Me

It does not matter your porch style, your walkway for your porch needs to be similar to a crimson carpet on your site visitors. Use 4 ft as your tutorial; permits two people to stroll facet by side. Broader wander techniques can be more complementary for much larger households or Individuals with large yards. Large walk means right away notify company which route leads to the front door.

Due to the fact R&S could be the immediate company, clients acquire the highest quality materials at by far the most competitive fees.

Promptly take away the form, and then trowel the perimeters from the portion to build the specified complete (it could aid to damp the trowel in drinking water).

Concrete, regularly known as cement, is An economical and sturdy content. Once concrete does crack, it may be uncomplicated to fix either by a specialist or yourself. Sealing and cleaning can repair compact pitting and hairline cracks although epoxy fillers might help with greater cracks.

For brick and concrete paver patios without inventive attributes, a homeowner can get monetary savings by accomplishing the repairs. A Do-it-yourself resolve will only cost the price of the resources, or about $0.fifty for each paver.

Soon after getting rid of Every single sort, remember to trowel the edges with the part to produce the desired end. Repeat until eventually The trail is concluded. If wanted, rotate the shape ninety° with each portion to fluctuate the sample. Dampcure the complete route for 5 to 7 days.

When you want to protect your garden or even the grass on the front property, you don’t want individuals to walk around or on them. That’s why a lot of people consider their time to carry out some landscaping and plant concrete walkways to guide their website visitors on where to stroll.

The solution is easy. It's only that they're not cognizant of our price reduction pricing on this unbelievably lovely stone. We can only realize these price tag details by directly importing containers of all-natural stone and reducing the middlemen.

New Review: Pretty happy with the final results. They even presented services many years later on to mend the hurt the Affiliation painters did towards the Alumiwood patio address whenever they walked on it. I considerably appreciated that.

Some installation firms use hand-coloring over the surface as opposed to powdered pigments, and those hand-coloured locations can fade or wash faraway from exposure to rain and snow. Depending on the resources used in the stamping approach, the concrete may produce an uneven surface area which makes walking on it difficult.

A concrete driveway is a superb addition to a house. They supply control attract your own home in addition to ease. Although… Browse a lot more »

This stamped concrete walkway was colored with dusty rose and terra cotta. See additional photos from this contractor >>

The cracks might result in tripping dangers or an unattractive look. The stamped concrete surface may perhaps scratch. Based upon what type of coloring was employed for the concrete, the scratched area might not match the adjacent area. Steel shovels shouldn't be used to get rid of snow from a stamped concrete walkway as a result of the risk of scratching.

Modern Critique: They ended up brilliant. Every thing went perfect from start to finish. Their selling price was fantastic and I experienced no issues. The only concern I had was that I questioned for patio and did ask for stamp concrete. I had talked on the revenue particular person at first as I'd two husky puppies At the moment but he didn’t explain to something about the colour likely off due to Puppy nails and paws.

[delos-mio]

Partners- AU Frat Logan- Part 11

A/N: It’s here! To say ‘sorry’, this chapter is 3k words (previous parts being around 1.7k). Also, anything family/backstory related is pure headcanon and I do not claim to know what the truth is. But if Westworld writers won’t give me anything to work with, then fuck it, it’s up to me! Hope you enjoy!

The early morning light woke the two of you almost at the same time. Logan lazily yawned and draped his long leg over yours, locking you in tight. You thought for a moment that you’d like to stay like this forever, just wrapped up with him in the back of his car in the middle of nature. Nothing could get to you here; there was nothing that seemed pressing or bothersome when he was next to you, just starting to stir.

“Morning babe,” he said, his voice full of gravel and sleep.

“Hi,” you whispered back, nuzzling close into the crook of his neck. This made him laugh a little and rest his head on top of yours.

“You got plans for today?”

“No, not really. I usually go to karaoke with Sam Saturday nights, but that’s about it,” you replied with a smile, adjusting so you were propped up on his chest, your fingers lightly trailing in the small patch of hair in the middle.

“Well…I usually stop by my parent’s house, say hi to Jules and all that. They live like 10 minutes from here,” he paused and considered his next question. “Would you want to come with me?” It caught you totally off guard. You hadn’t for a moment considered that Logan would really want to let you into his world. All mention of his family prior to this moment had been cut short. He could sense your confusion and was quick to follow up. “You don’t have to if you don’t want. I can drop you off…”

“Of course I want to come!” you finally reply. “I’m gonna look a little over dressed though,” you laughed, gesturing to the nicely folded dress you had from the night before.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure I can steal some of Jules’ clothes for you,” he smiled before popping the trunk open so you could crawl out. You stood and quickly slipped back into last night’s dress, Logan never taking his eyes off you. The gaze coming from him still made you a little nervous, sending butterflies in flight in your stomach. Once you had fished a hair tie from your bag and thrown your hair in a high bun, the two of you set off again.

As you were drawing closer, at least you assumed you were getting closer, the houses kept getting larger. You’d driven through this suburb a time or two, always marveling at the old mansions lining the streets. Every one was meticulously maintained and looked like the inside pages of Home and Garden. But Logan had turned down a small side street, one you were sure you’d never seen in your life. At the end of the drive was a large, wrought iron gate with a key pad to the left, which Logan quickly punched a set of numbers into. There were only a few homes on this private drive, but they were somehow even more breathtaking than the ones leading up to the ones scattered here.

“I uhh…I didn’t even know these houses existed,” you admitted, finally peeling your eyes away from the window and over to Logan who was rubbing at his eye.

“That’s the idea,” he replied simply, pulling into a long driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac. He parked in front of a four-stall garage and walked over to let you out of the car. Truthfully, you’d never seen a more beautiful home in your life. It was clear it had been here for years, so while it was massive, it still had and old charm about it. Logan watched as you drank in all the little details, leaning casually on the hood of his car. “It’s been our families for three generations. My great-grandfather, Orson Beal, had lot of the stones shipped over from our ancestor’s home in England. At least, that’s the story that’s been passed down.” He walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist, “We can go inside if you want.”

You nodded your head and followed behind him as he pushed the large oak door open. Whatever picture you had painted in your mind was immediately outdone by what you saw. Logan was just casually throwing his keys and wallet down, not bothering to see if you were following when he started making his way up the marble stairs. He called out a couple times for his mom and sister to no response. Once he realized he was only hearing one set of footsteps, he turned around to give you a crooked look.

“You coming?” he called down, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Yeah, yeah I just…” you stammered as you shuffled to catch up with him, “It’s just super nice in here. Beautiful.”

“I’d prefer something a little more modern, but it’s alright I guess,” he shrugged as you made your way down the hall. It’s alright I guess; it occurred to you then that this was just normal life for him. This was his base standard of living. You shook the thought from your head and followed him into a large room you assumed was his. “Wait here a second, I’ll be right back,” he said before placing a small kiss on your forehead and walking out. You paced around the room, looking at the rather generic art on the walls. None of Logan’s personal things appeared to be here anymore, save for a few trophies and books. Logan appeared a moment later with a pair of shorts and a white v-neck tee.

“Thanks, Lo,” you smiled as he handed the garments over. “Where can I change?” He cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows.

“Right here,” he said as he pointed to the middle of the room, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Or is your boyfriend not allowed to see you without clothes on?” You blushed and slowly unzipped the side of your dress, letting it drop around your ankles. Logan drank in every inch of your skin, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. “Get over here,” he commanded softly, inching his finger at you.

You slowly made your way over, carefully straddling your legs over Logan’s lap. He let his hands softly ghost over your thighs, making their way up to the small of your back and squeezing softly. In an instant, his lips were on yours, hungry and full of lust. Your tongues battled between you as your breathing became more labored. Logan moaned into your mouth when you began to nip at the soft skin of his neck, placing hot kisses over the spots you’d just bitten.

“God, I wanna fuck you on that balcony so bad,” he growled as your hips sank down lower onto his growing length. You smiled into his skin and nodded your head in submission. He had just moved to lift the two of you off the bed, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist when his bedroom door clicked open.

“JESUS CHRIST!” a high-pitched voice yelled. Logan was quick to set you down and block your body with his. You were sure you were the deepest shade of red, but you couldn’t help but peek around his shoulder at who had walked in. She was very small- short with the same espresso colored hair as Logan. Her had was dramatically covering her eyes in horror. Great, his sister had seen you half naked and you hadn’t even shaken her hand yet.

“What the fuck, Jules! You don’t fucking knock anymore?” Logan yelled.

“Well at least I wasn’t mom!” she spat back.

“Or dad,” Logan joked. This made her laugh and all appeared to be forgiven between them. “Now get out!” You heard her huff and the door shut once again. “Y/N I am so sorry…” he began as he turned to face you.

“Oh god she already hates me, doesn’t she?” you asked as you quickly pulled the shirt over your head and shimmied into the shorts you were sure were going to cut off your circulation before the day was over.

“Nah,” he laughed, walking towards the door. “I’m sure she thinks it’s funny, don’t ya, Jules!” he shouted at the door before whipping it open. Sure enough, there she was, intently listening through the crack.

“Funny, yeah. But traumatizing,” she chirped, pushing him out of the way. “I’m Juliet,” she smiled, offering her extended hand.

“Y/N,” you mumbled almost to yourself, still embarrassed she’d seen you for the first time in just a bra and thong.

“How long have you guys been here?” she asked Logan as the two of them walked out of the room, you following close behind.

“Not long enough to do what I wanted,” he joked, turning his head over his shoulder to wink at you. When he turned back, he whispered something in Juliet’s ear which made her shake her head no. She then whispered something back, standing on her tip toes to reach up to his ear. You were really wishing you had any idea what they were chatting about as you descended the stairs once again, this time heading down a long, open hallway which led to the massive kitchen. There was a woman leaning on the island, chattering away on her phone. But once Logan had entered the room, a wide smile appeared on her face, her dark eyes crinkling at the outside corners.

“Logan is here, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon…ok…love you too,” she rushed through as she locked her phone and trotted over to Logan, throwing her arms around his neck. “Hi sweetheart! Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here so early.” She finally let him go, only now seeing that he was not the only visitor in her home. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry dear, I didn’t see you there.”

“Mom, this is my girlfriend Y/N” Logan introduced, placing his hand on the small or your back to usher you forward.

“Girlfriend?!” his mother and Juliet asked at the same time.

“Goddamn, don’t sound so surprised,” he huffed.

“Language, Logan,” his mother chided. “I don’t mean to be rude. It’s just…been a while since we’ve met a girlfriend of Logan’s.”

“No, no worries. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Beal,” you smiled, waving a small wave at the two women.

“Please, call me Susan,” she smiled, her confusion finally settling. “Can I get you anything to drink, dear?”

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent on the garden patio, drinking liquor from top shelves you’d never dared to ask the price of. For as much money as you knew this family had, Juliet and Susan were very down to earth and personable. Juliet was quick witted with a sharp tongue; she was an equal to Logan when it came to sass and arrogance. She was much funnier than he was, however- something you could tell made Logan envious. Susan was demure and kind hearted. She loved to listen intently to her children’s stories and seemed to delight in just being a mother. She was sure to ask you personal questions and really take in the responses you gave. You were thankful for her gentleness as your stomach had been on edge with nerves since this morning when Logan first asked you to come over.

Dinner time had rolled around and a new sound was filling your ears- the purr of an engine and lifting of a garage door. Juliet and Susan headed inside to start getting ready for the next meal. This must have meant his father was home, a thought that made you slightly uneasy.

“Why are you so tense, babe?” Logan cooed as you sat stiffly next to him.

“Probably because this is the first time I’m meeting your family and now your father is here and I’ve never heard you say anything positive about him.” You let out a sigh before looking back at him. He was giving you that smug look you both loved and hated all at the same time. “What Logan?!”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute when you’re worked up,” he smiled. You rolled your eyes as he gently squeezed your thigh. “He’ll like you. He tends to like women better than men.” This was not reassuring to you at all, but you still followed Logan inside where a tall man with the same dark hair as Logan, only with salt and pepper sides, stood speaking with Susan.

“You must be Y/N. Vincent Beal,” he stated, offering his hand out to shake. His voice was cool and deep; it was evident introducing himself was something he did often.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Beal,” you replied softly, trying to win him over with a smile. You weren’t sure how well that was working.

“Mr. Beal! I like the sound of that,” he smirked, turning on his heel to enter the dining room where dinner had been set out. You let out a breath and looked over at Logan who had a strange expression on his face. It was concerned and almost a twinge sad. He reached down to squeeze your hand and took a seat next to you at the long wooden table.

“So Y/N, where are you from?” his father began right as you had shoved a fork full of salad in your mouth. You quickly tried to chew and swallow before answering him.

“I uh, I’ve lived here all my life, sir,” you smiled, looking over at Logan out of the corner of your eye. He was gazing at you, leaned back as far as possible in his seat.

“How nice. So-” His father began talking about some work-related issues with Logan and his sister, speaking with absolute authority. You nodded along as he spoke, but your attention was on Logan’s hand which had made its way on your thigh under the tablecloth. He silently popped the button of your shorts undone and pushed down the zipper, slowly moving his fingers toward the edge of your underwear.

“Y/N?” His father was looking right at you. Shit. What had he just said? Something about his job? School? Vegetables?! Panic was setting in and you could feel Logan loving every moment of it.

“Mhmm!” You decided it was safer to just agree with whatever it was he said. He gave you a smile and began asking Juliet about some school related business, allowing you to finally let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You shot a look at Logan, warning him he was entering dangerous territory. All he did was wink back at you.

As the conversation became more lively, Logan continued on his mission, gently pushing your underwear to the side with his index and middle finger. He ran a long finger up your folds, gently flicking at your clit. You dropped your fork loudly on your plate, momentarily shifting the attention on you. Once everyone had gone back to their conversations, he made his way down to your entrance, gliding two fingers inside you.

“Mmm, so good!” he exclaimed as he took a bite of the chicken had been placed in front of him. You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. That same shit eating grin was all over his face, so pleased with his performance in the game he was playing.

“I’m glad you like it, dear,” his mother said smiling a sweet smile at him.

“Oh, I love it. Don’t you, babe?” He asked, turning to finally look at your face.

“It’s great,” you said through gritted teeth. He continued to pump in and out, steadily increasing his pace before passing his thumb back over your clit, making you squirm in your seat. You looked over to him, begging him with your eyes to stop before you came. But instead, he nodded only slightly, encouraging you to ride out your high here in their dining room. A few more moments and you were coming undone under the table, careful to bite down on your lip and stifle any noises that typically would be coming from you right about now. Slowly, he removed his fingers from you and refastened the button on your shorts. He then placed them in his mouth, casually sucking your juices from his long fingers

“What are you studying, Y/N?” Vincent asked abruptly.

“Art. I actually just had a show last night. Logan was th…”

“How do you plan to make money with that degree?” he interrupted.

“I…I guess I’m not sure yet. I really like making prints and I think I’m pretty good at it,” you shrugged. The high of your orgasm was already being killed.

“Have you considered switching programs?” he asked taking a large swallow of bourbon.

“Vince…” Susan said in a hushed, but embarrassed tone. You looked down at your plate, but caught sight of Logan’s grip tightening around his fork. This did not go unnoticed by his father as well.

“If you have something to say, boy, go ahead and say it,” he almost mocked. Logan said nothing, but pushed his chair out from the table, throwing his napkin down on his plate.

“We’re leaving,” he said definitively, looking over to you for a response. You were sure your face turned crimson red as every pair of eyes was on you, waiting for your reaction. Slowly, you also pushed away from the table, sadly looking at Susan and Juliet, who looked equally as embarrassed. Every noise- the scraping of your chair, the clang of silverware being set down- sounded like it was pounding directly in your ear. Logan took your hand and shot his father one last look.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to apologize and ask you to stay,” Vincent said before taking another drink. “You know that’s not going to happen.” With that, Logan pulled you from the dining room, out the front door, and chirped his car unlocked.

[samuelmmarcus]

Newport Island Beach House

  Hello, my friends! How are you doing today? I hope you’re having a nice and sunny day!

It’s a real pleasure to be sharing this newly-built Newport Island beach house designed by Eric Aust Architect (recently featured on Home Bunch here: Newport Beach Bayfront House), built by Clayton Builders, Inc. and with interiors by Julie Clayton.

Things certainly have changed when it comes to beach house design since I started the blog ten years ago, and I feel that this change is even more evident in California. Beach houses are now more modern, with clean lines, and they feel more uncomplicated. You can certainly credit the “modern farmhouse” trend for this big change and I don’t think this will change anytime soon. In fact, in my opinion, this mix of modern and rustic architectural details is an important progress that is happening in the architectural movement of the late 2010’s going into the 2020’s era.

Here, the designer Julie Clayton shares more details about this specific new home: “We took our inspiration for this project from its idyllic location: a quiet manmade island tucked away on the Newport Beach Peninsula The home has ocean and bay views, is a quick walk to the beach or bike ride to Lido Marina Village. We worked with Eric to design and build our take on a modern beachhouse making sure to highlight the views with an expansive rooftop deck for entertaining.”

Take notes on all details below and have fun pinning your favorite interior pictures and save the floor plan shared at the end of this post! This home would work perfectly on any smaller lot, anywhere in the country.

Photography is by Ryan Garvin.

  Interior Design Ideas: Newport Island Beach House

This newly constructed custom home offers panoramic views from its rooftop retreat, designer finishes throughout, and a spacious layout designed to accommodate daily family life or entertaining a crowd. Amenities include: European Oak wide-plank flooring, Italian Marble countertops, custom cabinetry and finish carpentry throughout.

Front Door

I love the timeless yet modern feel of this front porch and Dutch door. The front door paint color is Farrow and Ball Down Pipe.

Door Hardware: Emtek in Flat Black Finish – similar here.

Lighting: Rejuvenation.

Planter: here – similar.

Home Size

Floor size: 2,974 sqft

Ocean’s Breeze

A zero point retractable door system creates a seamless transition for indoor/outdoor living. The patio is Ipe wood. Also note the beautiful porch columns, the built-in bench for the firepit and the ceiling mounted outdoor heaters.

Firepit

The custom firepit features a tumbled Cobble stone sourced from Courage Stone.

Outdoor Chairs

Mid-Century Outdoor Chairs:  Here or Here (set of 2) – Other Beautiful Mid-century-inspired Outdoor Furniture: here.

Exterior Paint Color

Exterior Paint Color: Dunn Edwards-White.

Beautiful Mailboxes: here, here, here & here.

House Number

House Number: Rejuvenation.

Foyer

The front door opens to a bright foyer with custom built-in bench and shiplap.

Entry Lighting: Visual Comfort 18” Cabinet Maker’s Picture Light in Antique nickel.

Beautiful Baskets: here, here, here, here & here.

Rug: vintage – similar here, here & here (different sizes).

Similar Pillow Combination: Striped Pillows, White Lumbar Pillow & Japanese Shibori Dyeing Pillow.

Bench Paint Color

Bench is painted in Farrow and Ball Down Pipe with White Oak top.

Leather Pulls: Knoll Sling Leather Pull in Warm beige – similar here & here.

Living Room

What I like the most about these new coastal farmhouse homes is how calm they often feel. You look at this space and it feels gentle, stress-free and it seems to keep you at ease. Nothing is too loud in this room and that’s a pleasant feeling.

Fireplace Surrounds: White matte painted Brick with Gray matte concrete hearths.

Lighting: Sika Design – similar here, here, here & here.

Coffee Table: here.

Side Table: here & here – similar.

Rug: here.

Bookcase

On built-ins the builder combined shaker style paint grade cabinets with contrasting White Oak tops and shelves.

Decor

Furnishings and Accessories: Aiming for a welcoming and beachy vibe throughout the house, the builder worked in collaboration with the owner and lead designer of Alignments Home Staging to create a casual and collected feeling that complements the finishes and the light-filled spaces in this beach house.

Inspired by this Look:

(Always check dimensions before ordering.

)

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Paint Color

Interior Paint Color: Walls: Benjamin Moore White, Flat.

Trim: Dunn Edwards White, Eggshell.

Kitchen

This kitchen is full of great ideas! I love this large island and the custom hood. Island paint color is Farrow and Ball Down Pipe. Note: This color looks darker in person than we see in this picture.

Counterstools: here (on sale) & here.

Kitchen Cabinetry

Kitchen Cabinetry: Shaker Style, Face Framed Cabinetry Throughout Three Finishes; white painted around the perimeter and at range elevation, dark gray on island and white oak at buffet elevation and on hood detail.

Range: Thermador – similar here.

Pantry

This kitchen also features a walk-in pantry with White Oak shelves.

Faucets: California Faucets.

Kitchen Sink: Barclay Gwen.

Kitchen Runner: Vintage – Other Beautiful Runners: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Kitchen Hood

The custom hood range features a “board and batten” detail.

Pot Filler: Rohl Pot Filler Polished Nickel.

Cabinet Paint Color

Cabinet paint color is Dunn Edwards White, which is a very crisp white.

Backsplash

Backsplash: Solid slab of honed Carrera marble (to match the countertops) behind the range and v-groove paneling on both sides rather than tile.

Island Lighting

Kitchen Island: Industrial Pendants by Light and Living – Other Industrial Lights: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Countertop

Countertop is Honed Carrera Marble.

Dining Room

This bright dining room is perfect for family life and entertaining.

Similar Dining Table: here, here, here, here & here.

Dining Chairs: here & here.

Kitchen Buffet Cabinet

The kitchen also features this stunning White Oak buffet cabinet. Oak cabinetry was bleached and finished with a clear matte lacquer.

Countertop

Countertop is Carrara marble.

Hardware

Cabinet Hardware: Emtek Knobs in Flat Black, Emtek Pulls in Flat Black.

Main Floor Bathroom

This bathroom feels very current. The custom White Oak washstand features a concrete vessel sink by Native Trails.

Faucet: California Faucets.

Floor: Starburst Hex Cement Tile.

Beautiful Vanities: here, here, here & here.

Lighting: RH – similar here.

Mirror: here.

Shower Tile

Shower Tile: 2 x 16 matte white porcelain tile Coastal Tile and Stone – similar here.

Shower Faucet: California Faucets.

Flooring

Wood Flooring and Stairs: Colonial Collection in Lexington, gray wash wide plank European Oak with custom square edged solid tread stair treads to match – similar here.

Wall Lighting: Boston Wall Sconce in antique nickel.

Lighting

Stair Light: Serena and Lily.

Homework Station

This home is full of great ideas, including this homework station! The staircase leads to a landing area with a built-in White Oak desk with cabinet. Note the waterfall edge desks and how thin they are. You can add this homework station even to a small area! This space is truly perfect for kids. Pin or save this one!

Upstairs Family Room

This is a cozy place to read to the kids at the end of the day or spend some hours watching your favorite shows on Netflix.

Sofa: here, here, here, here & here – similar.

Coffee Table: Lulu & Georgia – Others: here, here, here & here.

Accent Chair: Wayfair. Other Fun Chairs: here, here, here, here & here.

Rug: here.

Built-in

The family room also features a media built-in.

Kids Bathroom

Cabinets are Shaker-style face framed with bottom white oak shelves.

Hardware: Pulls & Knobs – in flat black.

Faucet

Bathroom faucets are by California Faucets in Polished Chrome.(great quality).

Paint Color

Cabinet paint color is Dunn Edwards White.

Mirrors: CB2 – similar.

Sconces: Cedar and Moss in Flat Black – similar here, here & here.

Guest Bedroom

This home features four bedrooms and four bathrooms. All of them are very spacious and bright.

Headboard: World Market – Others: here & here.

Rug – similar: here, here & here.

Artwork: here – similar.

Pouf: here.

Bathroom

Vanity Paint Color: Farrow and Ball Down Pipe. This is a classic, old-world gray paint color.

Vanity is custom – similar here.

Lighting: RH – similar here.

Mirror: here.

Faucet

Faucet: California Faucets Wall-Mounted.

Sink: Kohler.

Hardware

Hardware: Emtek Pulls in Satin Brass.

Bathtime

The shower tub features glass doors.

Faucets: California Faucets.

Shower Tile

Shower Tile:  Elongated Hex Tile – similar here & here.

Second Floor Laundry Room

This laundry room is located on the second floor and it features plenty of storage and workspace.

Countertop is quartz.

Hardware: Knobs in Flat Black, Pulls in Flat Black.

Shelves & Faucet

I love the idea of adding open shelves between closed cabinets. This is often being used in kitchens as well.

Laundry: Kohler Faucet in polished chrome.

Backsplash: 3×12 matte white subway tile.

Master Bedroom

What a stunning space. I love the architectural details of this master bedroom. Notice the White Oak beam and the vaulted ceilings.

Lighting: Sika Design – similar here, here, here & here.

Nightstands – similar: here & here.

Beautiful Rugs: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Pillows: here.

Fireplace

The master bedroom features a fireplace with white matte brick, gray matte concrete hearth and White Oak mantel.

Barn Door

Barn door is painted in Farrow and Ball Down Pipe – this picture shows the real color of this paint.

Master Bathroom

How gorgeous is this bathroom, right? I really like the layout of the vanities with the tub in the center.

Lighting: Ro Sham Beaux Hemp Wrapped Gail Pendant in Silver – similar here.

Tub: here.

Tub Faucet: California Faucets.

Floor Tile

Floor Tile: Cement Tile Shop Atlas III in Cadet, pacific White and Linen – similar here & here.

Bathroom Cabinetry

The vanities are bleached White Oak with a clear matte lacquer.

Faucets

Faucets: California Faucets in Polished Chrome.

Lighting: Gambit Wall Sconce.

Paint Color

Paint color is White by Benjamin Moore.

Shower Tile

Shower Tile: Matte Light Gray tile from Coastal Tile and Stone – similar here.

Location, Location, Location

This is the California dream!

Roof is standing Seam Metal in metallic Galvalume Finish.

Rooftop

Imagine spending your weekends on this rooftop terrace. I wouldn’t complain!

Garage Door Paint Color

The garage door and the window trim are painted in Farrow and Ball Down Pipe.

Lighting: here.

Home Details

Floor Plan

Thank you so much for being here today, my friends! I hope this post can help you in some way… either to relax you or to inspire with your own home. 

  Many thanks to the architect, builder and interior designer for sharing the details above!

Architecture: Eric Aust Architect (Instagram)

Builder:  Clayton Builders, Inc. (Instagram – Pinterest)

Staging: Janet Ryvin: Alignments Home.

Photography: Ryan Garvin.

Home Bunch Favorites:

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Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

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“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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