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abbatoirablaze · 1 year ago

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The Thrombey Christmas Party, Ex Wive's Club

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: angst, mild violence, mentions of slapping.

“Hey…it’s not your fault…”

Ransom frowned as he looked over his shoulder at his wife.

He had expected Lily to blow off the family Christmas party ever since his mother took Curtis’ side when it came to Maritza, but what he hadn’t expected was their last interaction together.

She’d been on less than friendly terms with him when Rose came into the picture, stating that ‘he had a new little daughter he could mold into a perfect child.’ And she found it necessary to scream that at him any time he tried to contact her.

Jess knew how much those words had hurt him though, especially during the last time that Ransom had tried to invite her over to dinner.

He’d ended up sobbing against Jess’ chest for an hour when she showed up wasted, calling him the most horrible father to have ever existed. She had shown up well after the time he’d told her, after Evan and Rosie were both in bed, but that wasn’t what bothered him.

“Ransom…”

Ransom’s jaw twitched as he fought back the angry words that flooded his mind. His daughter was very obviously wasted, and was dressing like she was about to go to the clubs.

“Lil-“

“Are you going to invite me in?” she growled, cutting her father off. She rolled her eyes at her father as he stepped to the side and opened the door a little more.

“You’re late,” he reminded her softly, “Jess put Evan and Rose down, so-“

“Don’t wake the little bastards, got it!” she said with another roll of her eyes.

“Hey…they’re your siblings!”

“And they’re my siblings because you fucked an underage girl the first time, then ended up marrying her and not pulling out the second time.”

“LILY-“

“Hugh?” Jess asked, hearing the distressed tone from her husband’s voice, “Is everything okay?”

Lily mumbled something under her breath as her former best friend, and step mother came down the hall to greet them. On an instant she was at his side, kissing his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he sighed, giving her a solemn look, “I know you just put the kids down!”

“Lily…” Jess frowned, looking at the woman her own age, “You’re late…I put dinner away already, but if you’re hungr-“

“I didn’t come over to eat and play happy little family,” she hissed, before her eyes met her fathers’ once more, “I’m not hungry!”

“Well why did you come then?” Ransom asked quickly, “because I wanted to talk to you about-“

“I know that grandma is selling her real estate company and we all get a share of the funds.” She said quickly, “I want my share.”

“I have no control over that, Lil…” he muttered, shaking his head as he crossed his own arms over his chest, “but even if I did, I wouldn’t try harassing your Linda over-“

“SERIOUSLY?” she screeched, “that money is mine! She wants to lock it up under some bullshit trust and you’re just going to let her?”

“Lil-“

“YOU’RE A SHIT FATHER, RANSOM,” she spat, glaring daggers at her father, “I COME TO YOU FOR ONE THING AND YOU CAN’T EVEN DO IT. YOU’RE SO WRAPPED AROUND MY EX BEST FRIEND’S PUSSY THAT YOU CAN’T HELP YOUR FIRST CHILD! I’M JUST HERE BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T PULL OUT IN TIME.”

She had continued her rant, but upstairs, the parents could hear Rose waking up as she began to cry.

“Shit…” Jess hissed. She pressed a kiss to her husband’s shoulder, “I’m sorry…I-“

“Go take care of Rose,” Ransom confirmed before he cut his daughter off, “Lily, stop!”

“Or what?” she hissed as Jess ran towards the stairs to coo her agitated daughter.

“Lil-“

The fact that Lily had no problem shredding Ransom to bits any chance she could really ate away at Jess.

She wanted to be supportive of her husband.

“If it makes you feel better, it’s probably just because she hates me!” Jess offered with a frown as she bounced little one and a half year old Rose on her hip, “she’s still not over the idea of us being married…you know you’re an amazing father, and husband, Hugh. You are always there for us just like you try to be there for her. You’ve made an amazing relationship with Maritza despite it all as well!”

He gave a heavy sigh, and she knew that in that moment, despite her best efforts, there wasn’t anything that she could truly say to right what was going on in his head.

“Da-da!” Rosie giggled, looking at her father with adoring eyes.

Ransom’s eyes snapped to hers, and the worry faded as she reached out for him. His little chubby-cheeked angel smiled at her father, and it helped calm him, if only slightly.

“I think someone wants you to hold her, daddy!” Jess giggled, shooting her husband a wink.

Ransom bit his lip, holding back the new feelings that were quickly pushing their way forward. His eyes raked over his wife’s body, and then he took another look towards the entrance, and then scanned the room.

Everyone was off in their own little worlds.

His cousins and their respective families were having their normal pissing contests.

And Curtis had come with Maritza, Sasha, and her two children, who were all actively engaged in talking to his own mother, who had recently sold her real estate empire to focus on being a great woman to her grandchildren and great grandchild.

Meanwhile, his own son was smiling, learning how to play Go with Harlan.

“You know…if you call me daddy again like that, we may have to sneak off,” Ransom teased lightly as he took his daughter from his wife’s arms, “I’ve been been chomping at the bit for another little baby boy…and I know you have too!”

“We did say we wanted to wait until the end of the year…”

“And it’s already here!” he smiled.

She shot him a wink and leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “maybe if daddy’s been good this year, when we tuck the babies in…he can unwrap a special gift from mommy then!”

Lust hit Ransom like a freight train and his eyes twinkled at the thought, “a special gift from mommy?”

“Da-da!” Rosie repeated, reaching out to grab Ransom’s face.

Jess couldn’t help but laugh as their daughter pouted at her father, angry that she was being ignored while in his arms.

Ransom’s gaze met his daughters, and she held firm on her straight face.

“Looks like you’ve got to smooth it over with baby Drysdale first, daddy…” she smirked, “I’m going to go get her bottle from the kitchen…will you be alright?”

“Right,” Ransom nodded, stepping over to his mother. He bounced Rose on his hip as he made his way to her, “I know who can cheer you up, little miss sass.”

Linda looked up from her grand-daughter, and towards her son. Her smile grew when she saw her youngest grandchild, “Rosie!”

“NANA!” the baby squealed excitedly, making grabby hands at her. Linda lit up, mirroring the baby’s actions, before pulling her into her arms.

“Oh, there’s my baby!”

“Nana baby!” she repeated happily, snuggling into her grandmother as she called herself her grandmother’s baby.

Ransom smiled, happy to see the calm in his family. He looked at Curtis and noticed his own grandchild looking up at him. Maritza giggled as she waved to him.

‘Hello angel’ Ransom mouthed, while brokenly signing the words he’d been learning through his tutor every week, ‘pretty dress for Christmas!’

‘Thank you dum-dum’

“Mr. Curtis, why did Maritza call Mr. Ransom a dumb dumb?”

Curtis chuckled as Michael looked at the little girl bewildered, “she’s not calling him a dumb dumb, Michael. That’s her name for him. Mr. Ransom doesn’t want to be called grandpa, and her mother always called him by his first name. but the name Ransom sounded like ‘dumb dumb’ when she first got her cochlear implant…and that just sort of stuck.”

“That’s silly!” Ashley giggled from beside her stepsister. She signed to her, ‘why not call him grumpy? He never smiles unless he’s with Miss. Jess!’

“Hey, I saw that sign!” Ransom teased, signing along as well as speaking, to let his grand daughter feel included still. He reached for her and scooped her up, and she began giggling once more, “tell them I’m not a dumb dumb, Maritza! Tell them I’m not grumpy either.”

‘No, grumpy!’ the little girl giggled, snuggling into him. She made the sign for ‘I love you dum dum,’ and he felt himself melting a little more at the girl that stole his heart in an entirely new way.

“Well what do we have here?” a voice called loudly.

Ransom frowned when he saw his daughter in the entryway of the sitting room, a man who he’d recognized as another trust fund asshole who was pretty close to his own age on her arm. His nose twitched as the expensive cologne swam over them in a tidal wave.

“Eddie…” Ransom growled, sucking on his teeth.

Off to the corner, Rose, surprised at the noise, had jumped in her grandmother’s arms, and had begun to cry.

“Ugh,” Lily groaned, “will someone shut that little brat up!”

“Excuse you?”

The room went silent as Jess came back in from the kitchen, a warmed bottle in her hand.

“Go shut your little bastard up, will you?” Lily groaned as she stepped into the room and started towards the bar to make herself a drink.

Maritza shrunk into Ransom’s arms, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Jess saw red when she stalked towards her stepdaughter, and ripped the sunglasses from her face, throwing them to the ground, “don’t you dare call your little sister a bastard, Lily Drysdale!”

“THOSE WERE SIX HUNDRED DOLLAR GLASSES!” she shrieked, rage filling her voice, “WHAT IN THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“Lil-“

“YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER, JESS!” She screamed at her former friend, eyes glassy as she screamed at the woman she practically grew up with, “DON’T START ACTING LIKE IT JUST BECAUSE MY DAD COULDN’T PULL OUT!”

“Lily!”

“This is why I don’t come to these stupid family functions,” she spat, glaring at her great grandfather. She shook her head and Harlan frowned, “I tried. But her. My dad. Grandma. And now you have my ex-husband and his new whore-“

Lily stopped speaking when Jess slapped her hard across the face.

“You will not talk down on the people in this room, Lily Drysdale!” Jess said in a low, even tone. She ripped the drink out of her stepdaughter’s hands and tossed it into the fireplace beside her, “we came together because we are a family…and we’re here for each other, despite our differences. If you can’t support that, if you want to act like a spoiled brat in front of us…in front of your own daughter who you haven’t seen since that court case, then you can leave. Because we don’t need that toxicity, Lily! We’re doing just fine without you!”

Lily, surprised that someone had actually stood up to her, looked to her father, her lip wobbling as she looked to him for support, “d-daddy….ar-are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

Ransom swallowed down everything he had felt about his own relationship with his daughter. He looked into his arms to see his own granddaughter. Her smile having long since faded since her mother came into the room, she was clinging to him like she was scared for her life.

‘Make her go away, dum dum…’ she signed, the fear evident in her eyes.

Ransom brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked at his daughter once more.

“What the hell did she sign?” Lily growled as she pushed herself away from the tense situation with Jess, “she wants me here, doesn’t she? Tell Jess to fuck off an-“

“You need to leave, Lil…” Ransom said with a frown as he cut his daughter off. He looked to Curtis and passed Maritza back to her father, then crossed the room, looping his arm around his wife’s waist, “you can’t be here…not like this, Lil…”

#ex wive's club #1shot #one shot #25 days of christmas #the thrombey christmas party #ransom drysdale #soft ransom #hugh ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out au

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bizarrescribblez · 1 year ago

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Mia do you have any alan headcanons 👁-👁 one of mine is that he has curly hair :3

oh my goodness anon you are too kind to let me be unhinged about this . AND YOU ARE SO RIGHT 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I ACTUALLY HC THAT TOO cuz especially in AW Remastered the curls are lore obvious lemme try to get a pic..

LIKE LOOK AT THAT FRONT PART.. THERES CURL.. and in AW2 in some parts the ends of his longer hair fr do look curly.. SO YOURE SO REAL. Now its time for my headcanons hehehe

HAIRY. It’s lowkey a crime we’ve never gotten a shirtless Alan scene (ofc I would say that.) but FOR RESEARCH PURPOSES I have seen images of his actor shirtless and was kinda surprised he didn’t have a lot of body hair.. anyways I hc Alan does cuz theres fr no way LOOK AT HOW SCRUFFY HE IS..

Orders unnecessarily extra coffee orders. LIKE OFC i see him as a guy who likes just regular plain coffee (not as much as Casey tbh), but I know he’d go extra with frappes..

INSOMNIAC. 100%. It’s actually canon from what I remember but if it’s not I consider it canon. Even after getting better I feel like he’d just have trouble sleeping :( mainly cuz he still feels on edge from being in the dark place/a part of him has always been used to staying up extremely late (either partying or writing)

Speaking of sleep (and because I’m the same way), I feel like he needs a light on when sleeping 100%. I feel like first sleeping together he felt goofy about it, but I end up showing him my tiny cinnamoroll nightlight and it makes him feel less embarrased :,)

FASHION DISASTER. Mainly because he feels like he always has to dress to the nines when going out anywhere, needs constant reassurance (from me- 💥) that dressing casually is okay! Cuz I love my angel so much but .. THE CLOTHES HES WEARING UNDERNEATH THAT TWEED JACKET/THOSE LAYERS 💀 he’s lucky I love dressing up sm so I can do the same for him

ITS CANON BUT HE LOVES OLD MOVIES/NOIR FILMS.. I feel like he gets a kick out of older movies (Jaws, The Shining (ofc.), etc.), he dabbles in watching something new (especially cuz of me cuz i love trashy movies so much) and even if he doesn’t like it he’ll use it as what to avoid as a writer/thanking the fact he doesn’t write like that FJBSHDN

ALSO CANON BUT HE HAS A CHILDHOOD TEDDY!!!! :) he doesn’t sleep with it like i do with mine but he lets me cuddle with it and it makes his heart explode every time hehe He likes to rest it against mine because it’s like they’re a little family..

Ok last one but there’s no way this man doesn’t have a slight tummy.. I DO NOT SEE HIM BEING RIPPED . No never I fr cannot see that.

#anon . you unleashed the beast within me #THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME GO CRAZY .#i fr could go on but these are the ones that popped in my head first ehhehe #📫 ask box!#📜 21st century man #self ship #self ship community #f/o community #self shipping

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iitoastyghostii · 3 months ago

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Week 8 - Script Writing Part 2

Two boys named Toby and Wyatt were hanging out in a hallway connecting two buildings together. While the other students walked passed them, to get to their destinations, they stayed put to talk to each other.

TOBY: Hey dude, guess what?

WYATT: What’s up?

TOBY: I just got tickets for the Kendrick concert!

WYATT: Whoa, for real?

TOBY: Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m kidding, just look.

WYATT: How bad am I missing out?

TOBY: I don’t know man, I might have to go on a marathon!

WYATT: That’s a big commitment.

TOBY: Yeah but it’ll totally be worth it! I can get a poster board hehe.

WYATT: Lolllll don’t party too hard.

TOBY: Haha I just might.

WYATT: Yep, this is the year for hip-hop.

TOBY: Yeah, you said it Wy. I’m sitting here in awe of it all.

WYATT: Well good for you because I can’t.

TOBY: Huh? Why not?

WYATT: Because man, there’s so much to do!

TOBY: You still caught up on those turtles, huh?

WYATT: That’s for all of the turtles. They’re not the regular kind.

TOBY: Fr I’ve been there too.

WYATT: Uh huh, sure you have. Now what about your lizards?

TOBY: Oh yeah, they’re cool. One of them really likes the lamp light.

WYATT: Oh yeah? That’s cool. Made a total mess, but fun.

TOBY: I just figured it out too the second you texted me.

WYATT: Wait, I texted you? (Looks down at his phone)

TOBY: Uh yeah? You were complaining about all the studying you had to do for math class.

WYATT: Oh yeah! I was telling you about that.

TOBY: Haha yeah, you were like ‘Back to the grind, my study buddy got back from his piss’ and stuff.

WYATT: Pfft now that you say it out loud, it does sound funny.

TOBY: Yeah, but anyway. I wanted to ask you something.

WYATT: Okay, what’s up?

TOBY: What kind of console do you use to play games? Because I’m tryna play sometime.

WYATT: I use a monitor back at my house. But I’m hoping to get a PS5 for my birthday.

TOBY: So I’m cooked…got it. I guess I’ll play doubles with someone else.

WYATT: Stop that’d be too funny. Because you and I both know that you suck at playing doubles.

TOBY: Oh shut up! I’m not that bad.

WYATT: Ok Grandma. You might not be bad, but your wifi connection is. Because what’s with that jump speed lag?

TOBY: My system’s just old, ok? It just needs a few minutes to get running again.

WYATT: More like a few hours if you ask me.

TOBY: Whatever man. The worst part is when it flashes over and over, until it finally just blanks out. I swear, I thought my console finally gave up and shut down.

WYATT: Been there…can’t stand that. Probably not as bad as ur situation tho.

TOBY: Yeah, nowhere near as bad. But at least I have Otis to clear my mind.

WYATT: Otis? Who’s this Otis guy? He a friend of yours?

TOBY: Lmao yeah, he’s super cool and he’s new, check it out whenever.

WYATT: Oh for real? Sweet? I can’t wait to meet him!

TOBY: I’m just kidding, Wy. He’s actually a new artist I’ve been listening to lately. His song "Understood ma'am" is really good.

WYATT: Awe man! All I understood was getting excited over nothing. You a fraud!

TOBY: Very funny. I’m not a fraud, but you are late.

WYATT: Oh shoot! I forgot I had class today!

TOBY: Yup. You always do.

WYATT: Then remind me next time! I gotta go. See ya later Toby! (Grabs backpack and runs through the hall)

TOBY: Yeah, later Wyatt. (Smiles and waves goodbye)

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punkscowardschampions · 3 months ago

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Ruster & Nancy

Rio: [Okay, we are in mid-late Feb of 2031 now, after the Christmas where y’all did the most to ignore each other and had a VERY tense time I am sure, baby Maggie was indeed conceived and Ali has excitedly done the rounds telling the fam]

Rio: When your parents tell you, expect you to think of something cleverer than an I told you so

Buster: I didn’t tell them so, we don’t talk about you

Rio: Definitely what I meant

Rio: but I’m glad the tea time chat isn’t that dire for you all

Buster: It’s obvious what you meant

Rio: You were off anyway, didn’t happen until Christmas

Buster: Within the acceptable margin for error, or in this case Eggnog and Snowballs

Rio: Sure but that’s not romantic and Mama makes everything a story

Buster: I’m not her target audience for a bedtime one, her hands are full

Rio: Should be

Rio: Even the twins think they’re too old for it though, you know how it is, Ava must be the same

Buster: Yeah, [her age rn] going on [a big age cos Ava is that bitch]

Rio: Exactly

Rio: even when it looks like they’re still playing dress-up

Buster: Nance does, though at what is anyone’s guess

Rio: [naming the brands we know Nancy likes] mannequin

Rio: she looks great though

Buster: She looks like everyone else here, she’s achieving her goal at least

Rio: Isn’t that something you have in common?

Buster: No, my friends wish they looked half as good as I do

Rio: Right 😏

Buster: It is, you’ve seen for yourself often enough

Rio: I can barely remember Christmas

Buster: Why would you want to?

Rio: What good is blocking it out?

Buster: A temporary reprieve still is

Rio: That’s what the 🥂 was for but not trying to make it a habit

Buster: You’ve got years to decide your unhealthy crutch of choice

Rio: Or years to work on not needing one

Buster: Either/or

Rio: You only have faith in yourself, is it

Buster: Your new daddy has all the faith, I don’t doubt he’ll keep you on the straight and narrow where your other nan never could

Rio: Shut up

Rio: I am actually too old for any parenting now and becoming a nun isn’t the 10-year plan

Buster: And any need for the costume is still months away

Rio: And Nance is liable to change her mind last minute so I know better than to get on theme too early, yeah

Buster: I could have equal say about the party planning bullshit if I wanted, bear that in mind

Rio: You think you look better than everyone all the time, you’ve no need to mastermind it

Buster: Less of an opinion more of a fact

Rio: There’s always enough guests for you to avoid me

Rio: no need to try to make me look bad

Buster: I couldn’t make you look any worse than [whatever Nancy’s worse theme has been in his opinion]

Rio: Or [the one you liked the least], that was rough

Rio: Don’t you ever want to have separate parties?

Buster: I will when she upsets me to the extent she deserves to realise how many of our friends prefer me, as of yet, she hasn’t

Rio: A sweet gesture wrapped up in an egotistical facade

Buster: Payback in the form of a guest list

Rio: The baby will be here by then

Buster: I look forward to seeing how you’ll use it as a prop

Rio: You think my new daddy is going to let it out of his sight

Buster: He doesn’t have eyes on any of his other kids

Rio: Not yet

Rio: She was never going to be thrilled when this day came but you can’t keep someone from their kids because you don’t like them

Buster: Of course you can, there’s an entire branch of law dedicated to the pursuit

Rio: Is that what you’re going to do

Buster: God no

Rio: The biggest ick

Buster: Other people’s kids and the endless discussions about them?

Rio: Subtle

Rio: it’s exciting news, there’s not been a baby for ages

Buster: There’s almost constant babies, you’re just desensitised at this point because most of them have come out of your mother

Rio: I’m not desensitised because babies are always a gift, psycho

Rio: you’re such a boy about it

Buster: Gifts are something you can return

Rio: Oh my God

Rio: how can you look at those chubby cheeks and little hands and not want to look after them?

Buster: Because I refuse to be tricked by biology, not to mention, most babies aren’t even cute

Rio: Yes they are!

Rio: ALL babies are cute

Rio: this is because you’ve not been raised with animals

Buster: Nancy and I weren’t, you’ve looked at the newborn pictures

Rio: You were, just a bit pink

Buster: The word is premature, but if you feel like colour coding us, I’d probably pick purple

Rio: You still had the tiny fingernails and the little pouty lips and button nose, like all babies

Rio: I’m not going to collude in this baby slander

Buster: Nor am I in propaganda that encourages your already inevitable underage pregnancy

Rio: Wow, never heard that one before 🙄

Rio: not gonna happen, thank you very much

Buster: You’re welcome for the reminder that isn’t romantic and you aren’t living in a story

Rio: My mama lost out on her childhood and teenage years, I don’t need you to tell me anything, I saw it

Buster: Good, you’d only accuse me of lecturing again

Rio: You love doing it

Buster: I loved your silent treatment more

Rio: I noticed

Buster: So why break it now?

Rio: Why be nice to you?

Buster: Because you can’t help yourself

Rio: Clearly I can

Rio: or I’d not be here now

Buster: You’re here expecting me to help you, the same as before

Rio: Help how, exactly?

Rio: I’m happy they’re having a baby, there’s nothing to be done about it

Buster: You tell me, it’s your expectation

Rio: You’ve made it clear you owe me nothing

Buster: Clearly I haven't, or you’d have nothing to say to me

Rio: You can try again

Buster: None of my effort is reserved for you

Rio: Then you can get over it

Buster: And you can take your happy news somewhere else, I’m sure some of the family share your excitement, play the odds

Rio: Fine, do you think that Edie is going to be okay with it, when the shock wears off?

Buster: By the time the shock wears off she’ll have another brother or sister, so, no, I don’t

Rio: I don’t understand why she’s so upset by it

Buster: She’s been raised on fairytales but robbed of her own, I’d feel cheated too if I was her

Rio: But she’s always known it was him, we all have

Rio: I used to feel upset by it too but her daddy wasn’t a much better match for mum than mine

Buster: I barely know her, but I grasp the concept of fighting something you don’t want to accept, even when everyone else has

Rio: Is there anything I can do, in the meantime

Rio: I can’t just sit and watch her wait for something that’s never going to happen now

Buster: There are always things you can do, both for her sanity and to protect yours

Rio: It’s like she wants nothing to do with any of us anymore

Buster: Building a wall gives the illusion of safety, and distance

Rio: Yeah

Rio: and if I could believe it then I could just leave her to it, I would but

Buster: It hurts to want shit you can’t have, whoever’s in your way becomes a target of your lashing out, someone to blame

Rio: I’d sooner be a punching bag than stonewalled

Rio: maybe if I can talk to Django, she would listen to him

Buster: She knows that, which is why she’s not letting you be

Rio: None of us asked for this

Buster: Your mum did

Rio: Okay but have the issue with her

Rio: I’m seen as picking a side when I just want everyone to be happy

Buster: Everyone isn’t and won’t be, by wanting that you’ve picked a side, you’re asking Edie to change her mind, what she wants

Rio: I can’t ask my mum to change hers

Buster: Meaning she has to be the one to compromise, in no world is she going to think that’s anything but unfair

Rio: Right now

Rio: I just have to wait then, for her to come ‘round in her own time

Buster: Putting a time limit on it is for you and everyone else

Rio: I just want it to be better, than it has been since last summer

Buster: She does too, but her definition of what would make her feel better isn’t the same as yours

Rio: We’re a family, we can’t get any more fractured, what we need to do is come closer together

Buster: You can’t force her, her deadbeat dad is her family as well, unfortunately

Rio: He’s never around

Buster: Which she’ll get the opportunity to blame Johnny for more than ever now

Rio: Ughhhhhh

Rio: you’re meant to be giving me some kind of hope here

Buster: You told me to keep my hope for myself, remember

Rio: Hm

Rio: Surprised you do

Buster: I wasn’t blackout until much later

Rio: You weren’t the only one making up for lost time there

Buster: Dry January isn’t very worthwhile otherwise

Rio: You love a challenge

Buster: I rarely actually get one though

Rio: I believe you

Rio: kind of

Buster: Your belief is irrelevant, it’s mine that matters

Rio: Your challenges are in your past, you want that the story, so it is

Buster: Past, present or future, I’ll overcome them regardless

Rio: Why would I root for anything else?

Buster: You can do whatever you want, your actions and feelings don’t affect me

Rio: Okay

Rio: you don’t need to give the speech again

Buster: Don’t I?

Rio: Nope

Rio: I know how irrelevant my existence is to you, that doesn’t change what I’m going to do or say

Buster: Evidently, something we have in common

Rio: I don’t believe you but I don’t have to

Rio: it is what it is

Buster: We are who we are

Rio: Like it or not, boy

Buster: I don’t need to like you, thankfully

Rio: It’d be a waste of your time to hate me

Buster: Indifference doesn’t waste any

Rio: Sure

Rio: if you’re capable of that sort of thing

Buster: There are no limits to what I’m capable of

Rio: It’s not a brag, indifference is the opposite

Buster: I’m not bragging about anything except being able to do whatever I want to

Rio: Anyone can do that, it’s the easiest thing in the world

Buster: If that was true more people would

Rio: People don’t because they’re trying to be better

Buster: Ideally, but usually they don’t because they’re scared

Rio: Why would you be scared of getting what you want?

Buster: I’m not

Buster: actions have consequences and other people don’t like facing up to them, that’s all

Rio: Getting what you want isn’t a consequence, it makes you soft

Buster: Not if you work hard every day for it, the negative consequences are for those who don’t get what they want because you did

Buster: like in the example of your mum and Edie, everything has a knock-on effect

Rio: We can all get what we need

Buster: Tell that to Junior’s dad, but you’ll have to find him first

Rio: If he knew what he needed we’d not be in this situation

Buster: You’d be in another, different fuck up of your mum’s making

Rio: It’s not her fault

Buster: Why isn’t it her responsibility to do better? You’re quick to point my apparent flaws out and how I should

Rio: She did better by leaving him, which happened years ago

Buster: She would’ve by leaving him alone in the first place

Rio: What a useless thing to say

Rio: Give up on love and isolate, even if this wasn’t retroactive advice, it still sucks

Buster: It wasn’t love, pretending is what’s useless

Rio: You don’t know that

Rio: If she couldn’t be with Johnny then she deserved to find 2nd best

Buster: We both do

Buster: she’s with him about to have a kid, whatever stopped her then isn’t now, the excuse of can’t is null and void

Rio: You’re bringing up the past

Buster: What do you want me to say, it doesn’t matter?

Rio: Of course it fucking matters but he’s the nutcase kidnapping a child to get revenge, you don’t need to agree with him and blame my ma

Buster: I don’t agree with him, but she isn’t blameless, nothing works like that

Rio: I don’t care about loopholes, there’s right and there’s wrong

Rio: none of us but you claim to be perfect but her wrongs don’t excuse his now

Buster: Fine, I don’t care about coming to his defence

Rio: No shit, you’re doing it to be an arsehole to me as per

Buster: Take a hint and I wouldn’t have to

Rio: You have to problem with me that you claim to, you should be able to keep on subject

Rio: but you never do

Buster: You never listen to me on any subject

Rio: You stopped being interesting and started this charade

Buster: You’re interested exclusively in coming crying to me about shit that isn’t none of my business

Rio: That’s all you’d reply to, I’m not naive

Buster: Stop being desperate for my replies

Rio: I need someone to talk to about this

Buster: That someone isn’t me

Rio: Yeah, it is

Rio: you know all the players but you’re not involved

Rio: you can be objective and you’re not an adult so you won’t blab

Buster: I’m involved if you insist on involving me, babe

Rio: You’re not here

Rio: and it could be mutual but you never have any problems so that’s your only

Buster: You aren’t giving me an incentive

Rio: Then I’ll give you a problem

Rio: the oppression points are sorely needed for your UCAS app

Buster: You’ve got the wrong twin if you think I’m going to make yours mine and force myself front and centre

Rio: That’s why I can’t go to Nance, obviously

Rio: I can tell her when my friends or boyfriends are pissing me off but not for this

Buster: I wouldn’t go to her for that if I were you, but that’s your prerogative and mistake to make

Rio: It’s not that deep

Buster: Naturally, she has no depth

Rio: Okay as long as it’s stated you’re the one making the comments right now, we can agree

Buster: Unless I’m really off my face and all bets are off too, I’m not going to tell her

Rio: Me either

Rio: plus I’ve heard you say worse to her face so even if I was that sort of bitch, hardly worth it

Buster: Exactly, she’s my sister, I can say it

Buster: even if I have to threaten anyone else who does

Rio: She has her own friend and boyfriend dramas, for sure

Buster: Don’t start me on either subject

Rio: She’s not going to sleep with any of your friends either, ick doesn’t cover the terrible reputations they have

Buster: She will when the time’s right, like me and my separate birthdays

Rio: Maybe but right now she doesn’t trust any of them

Buster: Like I said, she isn’t that stupid

Rio: I think it would weird me out, if I had to share friends with any of my siblings

Buster: None of my friendships are that deep

Rio: I guess you’re just unlucky the separation isn’t easy

Rio: Edie was never going to try to hang with me and mine

Buster: It’s easy to keep tabs on her when we do, I can’t trust her either, not for the sake of our blood tie you claim is super important

Rio: You’d be mortified if she was, admit it

Buster: I’m mortified by her as is, cheers

Rio: You just expect better

Rio: you should probably teach law, you’d love to get paid to lecture people who will listen

Buster: Haven’t you heard, teaching’s for cunts that can’t do

Rio: Allegedly but Rocky became a cop and I think we hate them even more

Rio: he still gets invited to things

Buster: His loss

Rio: Are you going to be a defense lawyer?

Buster: What do you think?

Rio: Almost definitely but it’s been a while since you told me

Buster: I’m not looking for someone to confide in, you are

Rio: But you can

Buster: I don’t want to

Rio: You could need to

Buster: I don’t need anything from you

Rio: Alright

Buster: You throw me off balance

Rio: How?

Buster: You just always have

Rio: Your world is too small

Buster: It’s a bubble, I’m counting down to the pop, you already know that

Buster: [speaking of, give her a new updated countdown to uni cos it’s been months since the first]

Rio: It’s so long away

Rio: I’m so sick of not being 18

Buster: When you are you’ll wish you’re 21

Rio: You will, being in the states

Buster: Yeah

Buster: I’m going with school [whenever he is, because we said that and why not bring it back at whatever point suits us, hence I won’t commit us now to whether it’s before y’all get together or after or for how long he’s going yet either cos again tbd]

Rio: Then you’ll know for sure

Rio: that’s cool, you’ve got a shorter countdown until that goal

Buster: [give that countdown in days or whatever you’re doing for your unit of measurement, however long away it is]

Rio: Why do you get to go try out being a lawyer and everything I want to do I can’t until I’m an adult

Rio: talk about unfair

Buster: Privilege, [the name of his school] likes to at least pretend they give a shit about my future

Rio: Sure, they can list you in the notable alumni then

Buster: [a list], it’s on their website

Rio: [picking out the only famous in a celebrity way person because it’s usually politicians and other bores] 😍

Buster: Obama and his wife both went to Harvard Law

Rio: There you go, you can meet your Michelle

Buster: As long as she’s an international student as well, I can’t marry an American

Rio: Never live that down

Buster: My standards are too high to live with that accent for the rest of my life

Rio: You’re one to talk

Buster: What’s wrong with the way I talk?

Rio: Wrong is a harsh way to put it

Buster: You implied it

Rio: You’ve heard that craic off grandad forever

Buster: Well yeah, but I like him more than I like you, so I’m willing to let it slide

Rio: How rude

Buster: I am, according to you

Rio: If I say you’re putting it on, you tell me you’re not

Buster: I’ve been putting on a fake accent for ages, if I am

Rio: An accent that goes well with the rudeness

Buster: Precisely, I fit in

Rio: I know

Rio: you’d ensure you did whatever, I don’t blame you

Buster: I know how the game is played

Rio: You’re not stupid

Buster: I don’t lose, never will

Rio: Good

Rio: I think you’d be a sore loser

Buster: What kind of pussy accepts defeat graciously?

Rio: Exactly

Buster: [an anecdote that’s from when they were little like remember when we did such and such and you lost and you were so mad/upset/whichever because he remembers all these moments vividly]

Rio: Your memory is so selective because I remember when [throwing it back at him like remember when you did this because you didn’t win]

Buster: You don’t, that didn’t happen

Rio: Yes it did, we all got into trouble

Buster: [a retelling of this story which is twisted to fit his narrative, like we got in trouble because xyz, blatantly implying it’s her fault cos she made him mad about something, cos always]

Rio: You’ve always been full of it

Buster: You always make me angry

Rio: Everything makes you angry, not just me

Buster: I have self-control when you’re not around

Rio: You just take it out in different ways

Buster: More productive ways, you just like getting me into trouble

Rio: Nonsense, I’m never in trouble

Buster: Because I am instead, the direct comparison makes you look good

Rio: Yeah, it’s all part of my evil plan

Rio: because this family really values being saintly

Buster: Shame it isn’t, you’d be more interesting

Rio: Why would I be trying to interest you

Buster: You can’t help yourself again, babe

Rio: You can’t help being interested

Buster: I don’t deny wishing you were less boring, I just said so

Rio: I know how this works

Buster: Congrats on managing to keep up for once

Rio: There’s nothing more desperate than an attempt to prove otherwise, you can find that entertainment anywhere else

Buster: True, I’m used to your lack of

Rio: You’re not used to my anything

Buster: You wish

Rio: Last I hear, we’re strangers

Buster: Not yet, you keep finding your way back into contact

Rio: You unblocked me, honey

Buster: Nance probably did, she can’t remember her own phone pin to save her life, she’s constantly locked out and has to borrow mine

Rio: You’re making yourself sound so dumb right now

Rio: as if you let her near your phone, please

Buster: Why wouldn’t I?

Rio: Because she famously cannot be trusted

Buster: I don’t have anything to hide, the worst she could do is leak nudes I’m unconcerned if people see

Rio: Then you’re boring, if you really have nothing you’d keep private on your phone

Buster: I’m not ashamed of anything on there, she can’t use what doesn’t upset me against me

Rio: It’s not about upsetting or shame though

Buster: Her motives are

Rio: If you don’t get wanting to have things said between just you and the person you’re talking to then I don’t know what to tell you

Buster: I make my feelings known to whoever I’m talking to

Rio: And your sister, not weird at all

Buster: You’re turning it into something weird with whatever imaginary phone conversations you think I’m having

Rio: You’ve invented this whole fake scenario so you don’t have to admit you unblocked me at some point so

Buster: I don’t remember unblocking you, there’s hardly a conspiracy

Rio: but Nancy is constantly on your phone and you don’t care if she’s seen your nudes, cool

Buster: If she’s looking at or for them that’s her future therapy bill, I’m not showing her

Rio: Well that’s something

Buster: What secrets do you want me to have?

Rio: I wasn’t hinting at a body or anything sinister

Rio: why are you making it out to be a big thing?

Buster: Why are you hinting that me and Nance have something fucked up going on?

Rio: You can make calls without unlocking your phone, I’m pointing out that you’re not being real

Buster: Who calls anyone? Except granddad on my birthday

Rio: Because you need to do emergency texting when you’re out of it

Rio: you’d just book the uber for her, why bother with this performance

Buster: My parents aren’t blood related, you know, wanting my sister isn’t in my DNA

Rio: Christ, no one said that

Buster: You’re practically saying it right now

Rio: I’m really not

Buster: Don’t

Rio: I say things to people I’m interested in that I’d not risk my siblings reading, that’s it

Buster: And I have face-to-face conversations with girls I’m interested in, allegedly a novel concept to you

Rio: Who doesn’t sext these days?

Buster: I knew your boyfriends were all talk without you needing to point it out

Rio: 🙄 Very mature

Buster: We’ve established you’ve got more of an interest in people than I do

Rio: You’ve already said you think I’ll be a teen mum, which is laughable

Buster: Proving me wrong by not having to raise a kid while you still are will be its own reward, I won’t need to pat you on the back

Rio: I’ve nothing to prove to you

Buster: Don’t then

Rio: I don’t care what you think, you just bullshit anyway

Buster: When?

Rio: I’m not going to sit here and parrot it all back to you, you know you’re not being honest and you know when you’re distorting what could be

Rio: do as you please but don’t expect me to buy it

Buster: I honestly don’t remember unblocking you, you wanting a different truth doesn’t mean I’m lying

Rio: It isn’t about that

Rio: forget it

Buster: What’s it about?

Rio: Yeah, right

Buster: Tell me

Rio: No, Buster

Rio: because you get to deny everything

Buster: Do you seriously want me to admit everything?

Rio: You’re right that there’s no point us talking if it’s going to be like this

Buster: I told you so, here the phrase finally is

Rio: Better late than never

Buster: You’re the one who’s full of it if you genuinely believe things can be different, that there’s another way for us to talk

Rio: You’ve not tried, because then you’d have to admit you were wrong

Buster: You have no fucking idea how hard I’m trying

Rio: You think I’m not?

Buster: You think we can be friends or something

Buster: that’s bullshit

Rio: And you think you can ignore me forever

Buster: If you agreed to do the same, I could

Rio: I’m immature for thinking we could be friends but you pretending none of us exist is the bigger thing to do, why

Buster: Because I can’t control what’ll happen if I don’t

Rio: You can’t control it anyway but you’re obsessed with the illusion

Buster: I have to try

Rio: I can’t stop you

Buster: You shouldn’t want to

Rio: You don’t care what I want, or think, you’ve made it clear

Rio: you don’t get to actually change my mind though

Buster: Back at you, babe

Rio: Don’t come back in March

Rio: limit it to the ones you’re not allowed to miss

Buster: Fine by me

Rio: Great

Buster: [Okay so on the eve of St Paddy’s sometime, catch him coming at his sister]

Buster: I’m staying, don’t go

Nancy: What, why?

Buster: Because we can have our own celebrations

Nancy: You do remember no one does it here

Buster: Exactly, don’t you want to show them all how it’s done?

Nancy: Why don’t you want to go, it’s like your favourite holiday

Buster: Come on, Nance, you have to agree it’s getting boring, the same bullshit year after year

Nancy: I don’t know, it’s not like we’d be doing anything else here on a [whatever random day the 17th has fallen on this year]

Buster: You love throwing a party with a theme

Nancy: Like any of them need an excuse to mock our heritage ever, I’m not throwing a party for them to do it

Buster: You can mock how [whoever she’s beefing with rn] looks in green

Buster: especially if you make their outfit clash with their skin tone post shots

Nancy: What are you actually up to?

Buster: I could be up to lots of things given the ideal atmosphere

Nancy: Ew, disgusting

Buster: Blame [a girl we’re pretending this is all for the benefit of, even though it absolutely isn’t], I think she should get to know me better, that’s all

Nancy: Why on earth would I want to be around that

Buster: You’ll get to be around [boys he normally doesn’t let her hang around with aka his footie or boxing pals he’s throwing under the bus atm lol] too

Nancy: 🤨

Buster: What now?

Nancy: You’re perfectly aware I don’t trust you, you’re a very untrustworthy person

Buster: So are you, that doesn’t mean we can’t mutually benefit from plans I’m making for my own

Nancy: I’m not interested in your sweaty friends

Buster: Fine, don’t be

Buster: I’ll host by myself

Nancy: Okay, freak

Nancy: make us both a laughing stock in the process because you’re on one

Buster: Says you, what’s your problem?

Nancy: You’re far too keen it’s giving loser energy

Buster: Perhaps I was just trying to appeal to yours

Nancy: HILARIOUS

Nancy: [this girl] is literally a generous 6, you’re going to ruin my social life for that?

Buster: Obviously she isn’t my real target, I’m not stupid enough to tell you which of the friends that she’d bring with her is

Nancy: Bold of you to imagine I’d care

Nancy: the thought of it sickens me

Buster: Very dramatic, are you done yet?

Nancy: If you were banking on us being seen as more reliable together than alone then you’ve obviously suffered a brain injury

Nancy: they’ll either let you alone or they won’t

Buster: I was banking on you organising the party so I didn’t have to

Nancy: No thank you, absolutely no one looks good in green

Buster: An absolute lie

Nancy: It’s not a lie that I’ve done my best to lose any hint of an accent, not for you to spoil it all in a manic episode

Buster: We’ve never had any hint of an accent

Nancy: You’re ignorant to criticism, you always have been

Buster: Stop criticising me then, you’re wasting your breath

Nancy: I don’t want any part in your humiliation

Nancy: but I’ll see who is available to go out, perhaps

Buster: [whatever the drug of choice is at this age at this era, using the kinda silly posh slang he mocked because trying to get her on side] is going to be available, that much organisation I have already done

Nancy: We both get the same allowance, what makes you think I can’t get my own

Buster: Why wouldn’t you use mine and save yours?

Buster: Don’t be an idiot, flattering shades of green aren’t going to shop for themselves

Nancy: I’ve spent this month’s already

Buster: That’s a shame, I’d offer to lend you some but you’d only call my mental health further into question

Nancy: You can give me some to look the other way to whatever nonsense you’re pulling that requires you to be in town instead of in Dublin

Buster: Yeah, potentially

Nancy: Do or don’t, girls literally never have to pay, I can get whatever drugs I want from anyone

Buster: You do that, Nance

Nancy: This has been deeply weird and unpleasant

Buster: I just don’t want to go, why can’t you just not be a bitch about it?

Nancy: Have we met?

Buster: Regrettably

Nancy: What’s wrong with you, did you get an A- on a test or something

Buster: I wouldn’t open up to you now if I had

Nancy: Rightly so, do get a grip

Buster: Forget I said anything, use your dyslexic brain fog to someone’s advantage for once

Nancy: I don’t even think that’s a thing

Buster: You’re the expert

Nancy: Not really but they have to give me what I want to not discriminate so worth it

Buster: Enjoy Dublin’s nonsense, I personally can’t wait to hear who else is having a baby next

Nancy: I’ve not decided what I’m doing

Buster: Of course you haven’t

Nancy: And who else would be having a baby?

Nancy: Maybe Tommy and his mrs, if they can

Buster: More to the point, who cares?

Nancy: Grouchy

Nancy: it’s not as if mum and dad will get the bug, way too risky

Buster: You think I’m your humiliating relative having a breakdown, look around when you get to the pub

Nancy: Why are you taking such a stance?

Buster: Why aren’t you?

Nancy: Because I couldn’t care less, it’s fun and entertaining

Nancy: no one’s family here has any interesting problems, it’s all the usual, gambling, affairs, drugs, blah blah blah

Buster: None of it is interesting to me

Nancy: Clearly

Buster: But you’re right, you’re a liability rather than a help

Nancy: Ooh, reverse psychology, very clever 🙄

Nancy: I’m going to do what I want, as are you, there’s no need to collaborate

Buster: You need a brain to study for those tactics to work

Nancy: You’re in such a mood, oh my GOD

Nancy: is one of the parentals cheating, have you found out?

Buster: I’ll make sure you’re the last to know

Nancy: That’s not fair, they’re my parents too

Buster: Why would I play fair?

Nancy: I know who I’ll live with anyway, I worked that all out yonks ago

Buster: They��d hardly fight over you, you’re the least favourite

Nancy: 💔💔💔💔

Nancy: You’re the one intent on crying, dear brother

Buster: No I’m not, I’ve already made my intentions as clear as possible

Nancy: It’s unfortunate that Ava will insist on being buffeted back and forth but at least we can part ways

Buster: You wish

Nancy: You’d obviously go with mum

Buster: I’d split my time, they both have merits to their parenting

Nancy: 🥱

Buster: Yeah, your Parent Trap fantasy is predictably tedious

Nancy: As is your Gatsby party

Buster: If only [someone we’re shading] would drown in the pool

Nancy: If you’re going to kill someone, please do some homework first, write the manifesto, make it interesting

Nancy: not going to get a Netflix doc for any old run-of-the-mill thing

Buster: I’ve done all my homework

Nancy: Going to have to replace the hot tub but I suppose I’ll survive in the interim

Buster: The cockroach comparison writes itself

Nancy: Wowwww

Buster: The least you could do is aspire to be a green insect, but alas

Nancy: So bitchy 🐈

Nancy: You’re obviously going to have the damn party regardless of my valid protestations so who fucking cares

Buster: Maybe I fucking care, Nance

Nancy: Why?

Buster: Because you’re my sister, other people give a shit about their siblings, allegedly

Nancy: Are you already pissed?

Nancy: Lordy, if you want to be this sentimental you can go terrify the child, she’s your sister too

Buster: I know, she acts like it

Nancy: Because she’s 8, she knows no better

Buster: Because she’s better than you, at 8

Nancy: So I’ve been told

Buster: Rightly so

Nancy: How predictable of you

Buster: I wouldn’t waste my time on originality for your sake

Nancy: You would prefer the company of a people-pleasing child, you’ve described your whole circle

Buster: Your circle defying description isn’t the flex you think it is

Nancy: Neither is your plea for being a family, we’re not

Buster: You’re not, because this family doesn’t have the appropriate lineage for you

Nancy: They don’t care about us, they never have, you’re actually delusional if you think they do

Buster: You’re delusional claiming they don’t

Nancy: Get real, Buster, you’re not 8 now

Buster: And you’re not 18 yet, get a grip

Buster: you won’t be able to take care of yourself even when you are

Nancy: When are they ever here, what do they even do

Nancy: We’ve looked after ourselves since we were [whatever ludicrous age you are claiming ‘cos you’ve never been left alone lol]

Buster: Check the calendar

Buster: not to mention your selective memory

Nancy: They’re off on a jaunt so dad can get blackout and you’re actively having a meltdown, they should give a fuck, that’s their jobs, allegedly

Buster: Not wanting to go to Dublin isn’t having a meltdown it’s possessing common sense

Nancy: Whatever you say

Buster: Rio’s been crying to me since before Christmas, constantly telling me how terrible her life is, I’ve had my fill of the misery without needing to catch a flight

Nancy: Oh God, just avoid her

Buster: I blocked her for ages, she still won’t take the hint

Nancy: I’ll talk to her instead, I want to know all the gossip

Buster: Which is the reason she avoids you

Nancy: She doesn’t avoid me

Buster: She hasn’t told you any of it

Nancy: I don’t know, tell me what she’s told you, maybe she has

Buster: She told me she can’t confide in you

Nancy: Really?

Buster: Unsurprisingly, no-one can

Nancy: I don’t know why she would say that, we talk all the time

Buster: Because it’s true, she only talks to you about her boyfriends and her friend drama, yeah? That’s what she said

Nancy: I can’t believe she said that to you, of all people

Buster: She’s desperate to speak to someone who isn’t waiting for their chance to talk and pass the gossip on

Nancy: Ha, WOW

Nancy: well now I definitely want to go

Buster: You’re welcome

Nancy: You’re such a prick for not telling me ‘til now

Buster: You refuse to do me any favours

Nancy: No duh, because you’re such a little rat

Buster: You’re too preoccupied with your own manufactured drama to notice she can’t stand you, you dropped the ball, Nance

Nancy: She’s just upset about her family drama, lashing out, which is way uncalled for but hey

Buster: She’s upset you’re selfish and untrustworthy, which is ridiculous considering you always have been, but nevertheless

Nancy: How can I be there for her if she’s not telling me the story? How is that MY fault, oh my gosh

Buster: You can’t, she knows that

Nancy: Everyone in this supposed family has such an agenda against me

Buster: I’m not entertaining your victim complex

Nancy: Why would you ever acknowledge the truth when you want to play happy families

Buster: Her opinion’s justified, you’ve proven time and again you can’t be relied on for anything, none of that is anyone’s fault but yours

Nancy: Never mind the fact no one is ever here for me

Nancy: but no, I have to be for all of you and do it perfectly or so help me

Buster: Your selective memory strikes again, I used to be here for you

Nancy: Oh please, your one and only concern is yourself, I don’t know why you’d fake otherwise to the child

Buster: The amount you don’t know is staggering

Nancy: Ha ha

Nancy: just be honest about who you are, I don’t want you to try and be some protective, affectionate brother type, it’s so weird and disingenuous

Buster: I am being honest, brutally I’ve been told

Nancy: Let’s keep it that way, your business is yours and mine is mine

Buster: Consider it done

Nancy: Toodles

1 note · View note

calyxthenerd · 1 year ago

Note

Aight so crazy stuff that happened in Violetta and Soy Luna:

Gregorio breaking into the studio on several occasions

Luna's parents getting arrested

Violetta being pushed down the stairs

Maxi's flirting shennanigans in S1

Ámbar burning down Jam and Roller

The Roxy and Fausta plot

Everything Jade and Matias did

The whole Sol Benson plot, just everything about it, was pretty crazy

The fact that Tino and Cato more or less knew the entire time about everything but were too stupid to realize it

Eva and Ada. The end.

Hope you like it (fair warning though, I have multiple versions of canon in my head, so if something seems inconsistent, that’s why)

“So yeah, I broke into my old job’s building sometimes, and there was this kid, really weird kid, who thought I was a goblin or something, but then I blackmailed him into doing my dirty work, fun times”

“Uh, dad, the new applicant just asked where the bathroom was” but it was too late, the poor pianist was already running out of the building, before Gregorio or Diego could react further

—————————————————————

“And then, my parents�� boss, who was also my aunt, framed my parents and my grandpa for forgery of a bunch of paintings, but my best friend’s mom is a lawyer, so they managed to get out of it, but then…” she goes on to finish the whole story of her family drama, up until Sharon being admitted to the mental hospital “and that is all my family drama”

The horrified interview manages to pull themselves together after a few, long and awkward, minutes and says “that was all for today’s segment of ‘the truth behind the wheels’ thanks for tunning in and I’ll see you next week!” Before making a bunch of gestures for the cameraman to cut

“So, how did I do? This was my first solo interview” Luna asked innocently

“It was… something, though, can I give you some advice, public figure to public figure?” Luna nods “Don’t go sharing everything about your private life on the air, luckily this is a recording, so I can bribe- uh, I mean ask the editing crew to cut most of that out, do you have anything specifically you want me to keep? We’re only keeping one of the… annecdotes you shared”

“Oh, okay, I guess I have some stuff to learn about being on the public eye, and you can keep the part about me being my parents’ boss’ previously thought dead niece, since this is pretty much common knowledge already”

“Alright, thanks for coming today, Luna, we’re going to release the interview in three days”

“Oh yeah, I have a friend who works here, they’re actually organizing a viewing party with all our friends and the friends she made while she was part of a channel with another one of our friends, before she came to work with you guys”

“Oh right, Carbajal, wasn’t it? She’s very known around the office, quite a fiery type, that one” she chuckled

“She is, but we love her anyways” just then, Luna’s phone goes off and she grabs it “Oh, I have to go, my boyfriend is picking me up to have dinner with a couple of friends” she says, starting to walk away

“That’s wonderful, have a good double date, darling” she waved at Luna, who waved back before leaving

—————————————————————

“So, for this we need your medical history, any allergies, previous injuries, etc” said the stage manager

“I don’t know why you need my allergies for stunt training, but okay, I only have a minor shrimp one, and talking about injuries, the only one I can remember was that one time I was pushed down a flight of stairs and I’m pretty sure I was concussed, and a minor sprained ankle, funnily enough, also from falling down stairs” she huffed out a laugh

The man spluttered “I-I’m sorry, what? You were pushed down a flight a stairs? Now I need to know the story, you always have the craziest ones, Vilu”

“Oh, yeah, my life is pretty wild, when you think about it, so, the thing is- have I told you about Priscilla, Lu’s mom?”

“I think you did, she was the second last of your dad’s failed ‘weddings’ right? The one that ended up in the mental hospital?”

“That’s the one, anyways, she didn’t want anyone to know that she was clinically insane, because she had this weird obsession with dad, but she hated me, because I was too ‘improper’ and Angie because my dad had this weird thing with her, i don’t want to remember their wedding, worst. day. ever, anyways, Priscilla, I was gonna tell dad about her attempts on Angie’s life, and she didn’t like that, so as I was climbing down an outdoor staircase, she pushed me, I had my back turn and didn’t see who it was, I thought it was Lu, it was a whole thing, but that’s the story”

“Wow, Vi, that’s pretty dark, she wanted to kill Angie?! How can you want to harm her?? She’s literally the sweetest woman I’ve ever met!”

“I won’t even pretend to be offended that I don’t hold the title, because she really is”

“How are you even alive after everything that’s happened to you?”

“Most of it wasn’t that physical, anyways, about that stunt…?”

“Oh, yes! The stunt! So, what you’re gonna want to do is…” he gets back on track, explaining what she has to do

—————————————————————

“So, was Naty your first girlfriend?” Asks the manager of the tech booth on his shows as a DJ, a short girl with a pixie cut

He laughs nervously “It’s complicated, I don’t really want to talk about it”

“Pleaseeeeeee, for your favorite lesbian?”

“You’re not my favorite lesbian, Lena is”

“Screw you, anyways, tell me, please”

“Fine, so, on my second year on the studio, I was freshly transitioned, and I wanted to prove myself as man, so I started to, quite literally, flirt with every girl I saw in front of me, that lead to me hitting on my cousin, getting a stalker who kissed me without my consent, having a brief thing with my boyfriend’s younger sister, until I started dating Naty, then it was on and off her until i started dating Andrés and she started dating Ludmila on our last year, well, there was that week that me and Cami tried being together, it didn’t work, but now I’m happy with my Andy”

“That’s great dude, not the middle, but the ending, I’m glad that, after all that shit, you managed to find your person”

“Me too” he smiles fondly

—————————————————————

“Hey, fire breath” Matteo grinned, ruffling Ámbar’s hair, when he saw her having lunch with a coworker

“Oh shut it, fence crawler” she shot back, batting his hand away “what do you want, can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Oh, don’t stop on my account, I’m too intrigued by whatever this is” the other woman said, making a vague gesture with her hand

“Matteo Balsano, although you probably already know that” he said in an arrogant manner that was uniquely his

“Mariana Jimenez, and I have no idea who you are” she snarked, she knew who he was from stories Ámbar told her, but wanted to knock him down a few pegs

“Ha! Take that your cocky asshole!”

“Okay, topic switch, what’s up with the nicknames?” Mariana questions

“Oh, little miss lawyer didn’t tell you about her past?” He grinned wider

“Matteo, I’m asking you to please shut up right now”

“Why would I? Is someone scared?” He challenged

“This is not a game, if you make me get fired I’ll end you”

“Why, you played with fire and now you don’t want to get burned?”

“Do whatever you want, but just you know, this will cost you everyone who still tolerates you, hope it was worth it for one of one of your little jokes” she gets up, slamming the amount her meal cost on the table before strutting out of the restaurant

“So, now that the killjoy is gone, I can tell you, she was jealous of how better than her my ex was at everything, so she always tried to sabotage everything that she did, and so, there were some cameras recording everything we did on the place we used to go to skate, so she purposefully broke one of the cameras with a skate that was really similar to the ones my ex used to own, and then, during a party we hosted there, she spilled soda on the mainframe that held all the recordings, causing a power outage, then after everyone had left, the system short-circuted and every single one of the cameras burst into flames, being destroyed, and one of them caught another structure, burning the rink down, and that’s why I call her fire breath” he finishes

After he’s done, she throws her drink on his face “She’s told me about how she was raised and some of the stuff she did because of it, she also told me how much of an asshole you are, but I didn’t want to believe it was this much, fuck you Balsano, I hope that you burn” and she walks out, calling Ámbar’s phone

—————————————————————

“And then she finally forgave us for doubting that she would be anything less than accepting” Francesca finished telling her boyfriend the story of how she got together with their other boyfriend

“That’s great, but what about her and Leon? I’m pretty sure they were going through some stuff when I left?”

For plot reasons let’s pretend that’s true, I don’t know if it is

“Oh yeah, they were, he wanted to leave the studio, she didn’t understand it, so they broke up, it was a mess for a while, then there was the whole Roxy and Fausta debacle, he was so pissed when he found out, but after a while he forgave her, but they were too wrapped up in their mistakes to admit they were still loved each other, so for a few weeks they tried being friends, until our trip to Spain, when Clement and Gery came clean about attempting to tear them apart during the time they tried being friends, so they made up, and everything was normal again”

“That’s really sweet, but I’m gonna need you to back up a bit, who the hell are Roxy and Fausta?”

“Oh” she giggles “I haven’t told you about that, have I?”

“That’s why I’m asking”

“Roxy and Fausta are me and Vilu”

“I beg your pardon? I’m gonna need a little more context than that”

“So, Vilu couldn’t handle being separated from Leon after their big fight, so she decided that the most logical step was to dress up in a costume and a wig and make up a new name and just show up on his garage, where he rehearsed with the band, as a fan, and you know how I can’t say no to her, so I got dragged into it and then it snowballed, Diego found out the first time he saw as them, he knows me so well, he could see right through it, we ended up telling Cami a few weeks later, because you know how she is, nothing gets past her, Ludmila saw us getting changed a few days after that, and finally, because he obviously fell for Roxy too, Leon found out when he kissed her in costume and realized the kiss was too familiar”

“Wow, that’s… a lot”

“It is, and I hate remembering it” she frowns

“I have something that might make you feel better” he smirks, leaning closer to her

She catches on, grinning “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“I think you know” and he kisses her

And the rest I’ll leave to your imaginations because this is a family blog

—————————————————————

“Darling, come over here” Nicolas asks, fiddling with his tablet

His wife saunters over, the clicking of her high-heeled shoes slightly muffled by the carpeted floor of the hotel room they’re currently in

“What is it?” She questions

“I was looking through some old newspapers and why were you in jail?”

“Oh” she grimaces “that, you remember my brother, right?”

“Of course I remember him” he scowls “I’m glad you cut contact with the guy, he wasn’t good for you”

“So, our father was a conman, and the police found out, arrested him and froze all of his assets, leaving us with nothing, and since he didn’t want to work, he made me put on an act, I was supposed to be dumb and stereotypically pretty, not saying I’m not, I’m gorgeous, and I am generally joyful, but I’m not that stupid, just a little clueless on social cues, anyways, I was supposed to be dumb and pretty to lure in a rich guy, but then I got too into it and got obsessed with Castillo, and ended up juggling between that and getting sucked into my brother’s schemes for money, that landed us in jail after he hired an actress to con him, I tried to warn him it was a bad idea, but it was hard to break character at that point, so he wouldn’t listen, since he was convinced I was what I was portraying, anyways, after we got out, he ended up dating the cop that arrested us, but she found out he was still scheming and left him, and that was around the time that I met you, so while I was living here, he was secretly living with the Castillo’s, so yeah, then I didn’t know what was happening to him for a while, until I was invited to testimony on his trial, and told the jury everything that he did, both to me and to other people, I’m so glad I met you, otherwise I would never have been able to break away from that” she was crying at this point, retelling your trauma is not fun

He held her to his chest, stroking her hair “as long as I’m alive, that man will never ever be able to even look at you again”

—————————————————————

Luna was just chilling, cuddled up on her favorite person’s chest, when her phone rang

“Lunaaa, turn that offfff, I’m trying to sleep, and it’s so cozy with you here” Simón whines

“I have to take this! What if it’s an emergency?” She grabs her phone, while dodging Simón’s attempts of pulling her back in “It’s Leo!!” after hearing his favorite cousin’s name he gives up on trying to sleep and sits up

“Really? What do you think he wants to say?”

“I don’t know, now shush, I need to answer!” She picks up the call “Hi, Leo! What’s up?”

“Put him on speaker” Simón whispers on her ear that doesn’t have the phone pressed against it

She does so “You’re on speaker!”

“Good, now, what the fuck? You’re a gazillionaire all of a sudden and you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, that, it’s complicated”

“No, you’re not getting out of this with ‘it’s complicated’ missy, I want the whole story, now”

“Okay, the thing is…” she tells the whole story of how she figured out she was Sol, because I’m too lazy to write all that

“Wow, that is- holy shit, Luni, are you okay? Because I will personally pay for your therapy bills if you want it, obviously you don’t need anyone to pay for things, but I want to help, and seeing that I’m currently planning my wedding, I can’t be around too much”

“Don’t worry, Leo, I’m fine, your cousin is more than great at taking care of me” she looks up at him, running her hand up and down his arm

“He better, he knows I’d have his head if he didn’t”

“Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

“He knows I like you more than him”

“I’m not even going to complain, because I also like her more than you” Simón pipes up

“Anyways, I gotta go, the bride’s freaking out about floral arrangements again”

“Bye Leo” Luna says, pressing the phone against her ear again, much to Simón’s protests

“Bye Luni, your dress should be delivered any day now” and he hangs up

—————————————————————

“So, what was your last employer like?” Asks the trio’s new boss

“Oh, you don’t want to know about Sharon” Amanda says

“Why not? It’s not like she can hurt us because of everything we know about Sol Henson now” her husband counters

“He’s right, can we tell?” Tino asks

“Fine, but you better tell it right” she responds

“So, what happened was-“ they tell the story, cutting each other off multiple times, arguing over details, getting people’s names wrong, Amanda had to chastise them multiple times, before they were finally done “And that’s the story”

“So, you mean to tell me that you had all the pieces lined up and you didn’t put it together that it was the employees’ kid all along?”

“We did?” They ask in unison

“You did” Amanda replies, completely done with those two

—————————————————————

“It’s so weird that you never came over, we’ve been best friends for- how many years?” Camila ponders

“I honestly have no idea” Maxi answers

“Hi!” The twins greet him, popping up from nowhere

“AAAAAAH” he screams, properly spooked

They completely disregard him, turning to their older sister “Cam-Cam, we’re in big trouble”

“What happened this time?” she asks

“So, you know that thing you told us to do because it would be funny? We agreed to come clean today, but since the guys got crushes on us and started arguing because of it, when we revealed that we were twins, they started physically fighting, and the third one ended up falling off the stage because of it”

“Okay, girls, that was a little too far, you need to learn when to commit to the bit, and when to stop before it snowballs into a mess”

After recovering, Maxi lets out, his voice still a little shaky “Those are your sisters? What did you have them do?”

“Yes, these are Eva and Ada, they both wanted to join this band, but it only had one spot, so I told them that it would hilarious if they pretended to be one person, that way they could switch and they’d both get to be in the band, but it seems it went a bit too far, I hope that guy is okay”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?!”

#soy luna #violetta #calyx writes #if I got some plotlines mixed up it’s because it’s all a jumbled mess in my head

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froghospice · 1 year ago

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walk in the rain, lightning on my roof

[NOT CLICKBAIT]

today was so rainy there was a flash flood warning. at the peak of it i went for a walk because i haven't really left the house that much in the past couple days so i was itching to do literally anything. so i went!

you would think the worst part about walking in the rain is how heavy your clothes get, or the soggy shoes, but it's really everyone staring at you. i'm aware that walking in a storm is weird behavior, but i needed to leave my house! it just happened to be pouring at that time. halfway-ish through i stopped for ice cream. as i was walking it made me laugh how much water was in my sundae. it also made me kinda worry about the air quality lately and how that is definitely in the clouds and i'm eating it. but we move.

my postponed plans were supposed to be today. i know why they also didn't happen, but i'm still kinda sad about it. having a small circle is nice until everyone else is doing stuff when i wanna do stuff.

it made me feel like i was in high school and alone. kinda in my regression era. i was watching hours worth of nostalgia earlier and i wanted to turn myself inside out because i'll never have that much fun again. but it was nice to feel like i was going to.

i also threw myself a dance party earlier, and it was okay. really, it felt performative, which is weird when i was the one who wanted to move around. maybe i need to find new music because for the most part i wasn't dancing for anything other than the fact that i thought dancing would make me feel better, which defeats the point i think.

there are so many things i want to do but i can't bring myself to do them and it's so frustrating. like things that require me to use my brain. sometimes i feel like i was business hours, and anything outside of that i can't function. it's annoying. like capitalism really trickles one way i guess. things are so quiet. they have been. i kinda hate when you can hear the world working. it means you aren't working with it, just standing still. and stillness is okay but also it feels like a waste almost? cause stillness is not rest. rest blocks those things out. stillness is feeling the world move without you. like there's a you-shaped aura of nothing and all the atoms in the room are avoiding you. the world works together, life is all about connection and moving parts. living and dying. pieces that fit and mold if they don't. adaptation. stillness is a protest against that, almost. how dare you, it says as it gets out of your way.

also my building got struck by lightning today. and i wasn't there! that was during my walk. i had stopped at 7-11 soaking wet and 10 pounds heavier to get some coke-zero because i keep forgetting to stop at places that sell the 12-pack. i like the guys at 7-11. i think they like me too because i always have my card ready and i say thank you. and i'm not stoned and i get the same couple things every time. every once in a while i see them out in the wild and it makes the both of us jump because we never acknowledge each other because we know this relationship's intimacy only lies within the walls of 7-11. one of them got a face tattoo recently and it's interesting. i keep thinking what's up with that? like...you work at 7-11 what did you do? anyway

after that i went back to my apartment. there's this cool old guy who has a house right across the street. and he worries me because there's always a firetruck or ambulance or any first responder there. like at least once a week it's scary lowkey. there's also always police outside of the bubble tea place literally 30 seconds away from me. which is hilarious. why is there so much crime at Tai Chi? the owner always looks stressed as hell, which, i would too so i don't judge. but anyway i was walking back home and this time there are firefighters and they're outside my building for a change! and i was like huh... and they wouldn't say why which i think is worse than being vague. cause grace ripped out our fire alarm so if it was our unit i'd have no fucking clue. but turns out lightning had struck our building.

in a weird way i wish i was inside when it happened. there are a couple things i'm convinced are gonna happen to me, but i will keep them to myself minus one. my dad got struck by lightning so i feel like i will too. it feels like something that would happen to me. it happened to my building but idk if that counts. that's hilarious tho. grace isn't here and i forgot to tell her so when they sent the update email she sent me a couple frantic texts and it made me laugh.

it's already july and i feel like my life is over. this is dramatic, but true. i don't know what to do with myself these days and whatever i come up with i end up disappointed. maybe this is just being in your 20s but honestly i have felt like this for ages. whenever i look up my birth chart it tells me most of my aspects suggest that the only happy parts of my life are the beginning and the end. which so far seems like it'll reign true but that also makes me so anxious for when i have good periods of time. like i have a good week and it makes me feel like i'm gonna die by firing squad.

i wish i could explain things better but i think that adds to my charm. i kind of want to go on another rainy walk. really i want the soggy clothes feel. i can't explain how making myself look pathetic is so healing but it is. maybe because i'm doing it to myself. maybe because i need to weigh myself down. the last 5 minutes of my walk was so nice in terms of that. like my pants were so heavy yet they were kinda sticking to my legs? and my sweatshirt was heavy too but it wasn't sticking to me. idk i felt like a man. i dressed like a guy on purpose so people would leave me alone. made me happier than i thought (the masculine expression, not the being seen as a scary black man thing). the being seen as a man at first was interesting. cause like i know but i haven't seen it first person, you know? it was also funny seeing people kinda shifty but then as i got closer they say i was a girl and they relaxed a bit, but also not cause why are you so soaking and acting normal about it??? i would jump too honestly. but i was free

also when i was in 7-11 i felt kinda bad cause i was literally dripping all over the floor. like as you can probably infer, dear reader, i was very wet. like my clothes were way past 100% saturated and yet i was still walking in the rain so yeah. i did laundry immediately after getting home cause yeah... very wet. also i like those pants and i wear them to work all the time.

i think that's it for now. signing off.

#just talking #2023

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obsidiancreates · 3 years ago

Text

Born This Way (Because Of Negligence Towards Basic Scientific Safety)

(IDK how far apart the Fenton kids are in age, so Jazz is an Undetermined Age Where She's A Toddler But Also Very Verbal. Maybe it's the Genius Genes letting her learn faster. Let's go with that.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie coughs, spitting out another glob of ectoplasm. "Well, at least know it's not an issues with the cooling system."

Jack sneezes out the ectoplasm stuck in his nose, and then grins and stands triumphantly. "Still a step towards success!"

Jazz frowns from where she's playing with her doll, safe within a Fenton Anti-Ghost Toddler Chamber. "Mommy, you should cover your mouth." She points at her own mouth. "Mr. Wummy on TV says dat getting weird stuff in your mouth is bad."

"Mr. Wummy is a cartoon, dear. We're seasoned scientists, we know what we're doing." She wipes herself off, and sits down. "If there were any side-effects to accidental ecoplasmic consumption, we'd know."

"But what if Danny doesn't like it?" Jazz point at her mother's belly.

Maddie pats her belly. "The baby is still just a fetus, sweetie. It can't tell what it does and doesn't like yet. And why are you so sure it'll be a boy?"

"Because I'm your baby girl. So now you need a baby boy!"

Maddie tilts her head and smiles lovingly at her daughter. "Oh, you're adorable." Nothing cuter than Child Logic.

Maddie stands back up, and puts her hands on the workbench. "Now, let's see about that firing mechanism..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie brushes her teeth, sighing when her toothbrush comes away glowing green. "We really messed up a lot of experiments today. I think I swallowed a whole ghost's worth."

Jack spits a similarly colored mouthful of toothpaste foam out. "At least it doesn't taste as bad as it smells."

Maddie puts her hands on her belly, the bump now quite obvious. "II hope we're right about it not having side effects."

Jack's expression softens. He gently pulls his wife into a comforting hug. "The doctors all say he's as healthy as can be, Mads. You don't need to worry."

"I still worry anyway, though."

"Of course you do. You're his mom! But we'll worry together, and if you ever need me to, I'll do the worrying for us both! While you relax and give him more tips on how to avoid ghosts once he learns to walk."

Maddie giggles, and sighs. It'll all be fine... nothing to worry about.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jazz has her arms crossed, a teddy bear hanging from one hand. "Five times!"

"Yes, and did we mention we're so proud that you can count so we-"

"Five times!" She shouts again, waving her little sticky toddler hand at them. "I saw you eat the bad green stuff five times!"

"We didn't eat it," Maddie says patiently, "It got into our mouths by accident."

"You swallowed it!"

"Only a tiny bit, only on accident, dear."

Jazz puts her hand on her mom's belly. "Danny is gonna be here soon and he's gonna be mad!"

"He won't even know it happened, sweetheart."

"Yes he will! He'll be the smartest ever, just like me and like you and like daddy! And he'll be so upset and never stop crying!"

"Babies do that anyway, sweetie." Maddie rubs her belly. It's true, Danny is due any day now. And yes... there's been some extra Ectoplasm Incidents lately. Maddie just can't stay awake sometimes, and... well. That's not exactly good when working on ghost hunting machines.

"Your baby brother will be perfectly fine," Maddie assures. "He's a healthy baby boy, and he'll be just as healthy when you meet him."

Jazz lights up at the mention of meeting him. She can't wait!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jazz bounces excitedly in her dad's arms. She gets to meet her baby brother! Finally! She's going to read him bedtime stories, and protect him from closet monsters, and show him how to throw a tea party!

Jack chuckles. "Calm down, sweetie, you don't get to play with him quite yet! He's still very fragile."

"But he's okay?"

"Yes, he and Mommy are both okay. Better than okay."

Jack knocks on the hospital room door, and they enter.

Maddie is holding Danny, and it looks like she fell asleep. Jazz gasps, even though all she can see so far is the blanket bundle.

"He's tiny!"

"Very." Again. Ah well. Jack had always hoped one of his kids would groww up to be taller than him, but maybe it'll have to be a grandkid.

He walks over, and smiles at his sleeping wife. "Okay, let's be quiet," he whispers. "We don't want to wake mommy."

Jazz nods seriously.

Jack sets her on the bed, and Jazz carefully crawls closer to Danny. She moves the blanket to get a good look at his face, grinning widly-!

She frowns. "Where is he?"

"What?!" Jack hurriedly picks up the bundle, making Maddie startle awake. "Holy-"

"Jack? Honey? What is it?!" Maddie's tone becomes increasingly panicked.

Jack, looking a bit pale, hands the bundle back to her. She gasps.

It's empty, and freezing!

"Where- where is-"

And then suddenly. He's there.

Fast asleep, wrapped up snug and tight. His little face still red from being brand-new to the world, his tiny tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly as he snoozes.

He disappears again.

Maddie thinks she's about to pass out.

Finally, Jazz breaks the horrified silence. "I told you to cover your mouths!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny sleeps all the way home, and all the way up to his room. Jazz is waiting by the bassinet, and peeks in as soon as he's placed down. She frowns. "Mommy, his hair is white. He's not old."

Maddie sighs. "No, he's not. Apparently it just... does that, sometimes."

Danny yawns, and opens his little eyes. Jazz's own eyes widen as well. "He's glowing!"

"Yes... that happens too."

Danny screws up his face, and starts crying. Maddie picks him up and rocks him. "Poor baby... he's so cold."

"Why?" Jazz tilts her head.

Maddie sighs. "Well... your father and I... we think he's half-ghost."

"How?"

"... Probably... the ectoplasm," Shame burns in Maddie's veins.

Jazz, wide-eyed, reaches to to try and touch Danny. "Is he dead?" She doesn't sound sad, because it looks to her like even if he is dead, he's still alive.

"No!" Maddie shuts the idea right down. "He is a very healthy, living boy! But he's... different."

"Are you gonna trap him?"

"Wh- Jasmine, why would you ask that!"

"He's a ghost."

"No! No, we never treat him like any other ghost. And he's only partly ghost, so it barely counts. Now, Mommy has to feed him so he can go back to sleep. How about you go pick a movie for tonight?"

Jazz nods. She takes that job very seriously. There's a science to picking movies.

She heads off, and Maddie looks at Danny's sniffling little face. His eyes are back too baby blue, but his hair isn't quite black yet.

At least he's still visible.

At least the side effects seem mild.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's about 6 am when Jack bolts up too use the bathroom. On his way back, he decides to check on the kids.

Jazz is asleep, cuddling a stuffed animal. Jack smiles.

Danny is also asleep, wrapped up in a cute little onesie and floating above the bassinet FLOATING ABOVE THE BASSINET?!?!

Jack runs over and grabs Danny from the air, pulling out a Fenton Ghost-Whapping Baton!

And then he looks at Danny, who's whining, and sees sleepy glowing green eyes looking at him.

"Oh. Um, sorry, son." He puts away the baton. "I thought a ghost was stealing you."

Danny yawns. Jack sees a cold breath puff out of his son's mouth, despite the room being temperature-controlled to keep him toasty during the nights.

Jack puts Danny back into the bassinet. He leaves, and comes back a little bit later with some equipment.

He sets up a rudimentary ghost-shield to keep Danny from floating away during the night, but won't trap him. He can still float a little, if need be.

"The scariest ghost we've faced yet," Jack mumbles. He kisses Danny's forehead, and sits there until Danny falls asleep. By then, Danny is human again.

Jack leaves, and in the morning he and Maddie begin working on some upgrades for Danny's room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny babbles happily as Jazz plays peek-a-boo with him.

"Boo!"

Laughter.

"Boo!"

More laughter!

"A-boo! A-boo!" Jazz can't stop grinning. She's a great older sister! Look at her go!

She takes Danny's hands, and moves them over his face. "Now, where's Danny? ... Here he is! Oh."

Danny isn't there. But his clothes are, and something's inside of them. And Jazz is still holding two chubby baby arms, even if they're cold and invisible.

Jazz stares for a second, and then speaks. "... Peek-a-boo?"

Danny reappears, and squeals with laughter!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie sits down to give Danny his bottle. She's brought him out shopping with her so she can grab some replacement parts that fried in their latest invention, the Fenton Ecto-Extractor!

Jazz had thrown a fit when she'd heard the name, and it startled Jack so bad he'd turned it on too early and it completely collapsed on itself! It took half an hour to convince Jazz that they weren't trying to use it to make Danny normal, just using it for themselves now that they know it can cause... strange things, to happen.

Danny drinks the bottle with no issue, and burps as soon as she starts his back. Really, he's a pretty easy baby. Except for the ghost part.

Maddie is getting him back in the stroller when Danny's face screws up. She watches a cold, visible breath leave his mouth, and then he starts to scream. Sobbing, wailing baby screams, attracting the concerned and/or annoyed attention of most people around them.

"He's just tired," she assures loudly. His breath is still puff out in cold clouds, even though it's perfectly warm in the mall.

Maddie quickly picks him back up and hugs him, bouching and singing to try and calm him down.

Danny starts to quiet down. She puts him back in the stroller, but as soon as she does (as soon as he looks behind her with those bright, bright green eyes) he starts crying again.

She sighs and picks him up, hurrying back to the car. She'll just come back for the parts later. Clearly, something is upsetting him.

Something that she just can't see.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jazz leans away from Danny, grinning. "There!"

Danny is propped up on her bed. Maddie and Jack needed to quickly decontaminate themselves, and so Jazz had to watch Danny for just a minute.

And in that minute, she's does some redesigning.

Danny's fluffy white hair has a little bow in it, and she's put some of her kiddie makeup on him.

Danny disappears for a second, and the bow falls. When he reappears, it's not on his head anymore. He looks at Jazz blankly.

Jazz crosses her arms. "No fair! I was making you pretty!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie stumbles into Danny's room. She flicks on the light, and turns off the Fenton Ghost-Shielding Hanging Mobile. She reaches in and pulls the crying Danny out of the bassinet, shushing and rocking him.

Danny's eyes are bright green again, and Maddie can see his breath. "Oh, you always get so worked up when this happens," she says softly. "Is the cold upsetting you?"

Danny doesn't answer, just cries more.

Maddie takes him to her and Jack's room, and lays down with him on her chest. Jack rolls over in his sleep and puts his arms around her, cradling both of them.

Danny falls back asleep soon, and Maddie sighs. She can still see his breath, but at least he's calm now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jazz holds up her drawing, and shakes her head. She goes back to scribbling, and moves closer to Danny. "This is black," she says to him, pointing at the crayon she's using. She picks up another color. "And this one is red."

Danny stares as Jazz keeps scribbling. Jazz assumes that means he's learning.

"I'm going to let Mom and Dad know I saw this in my closet," she says seriously. "I think people know you're special and want to steal you!"

Danny blows a spit bubble by accident, and laughs when it pops.

Jazz's eyes hold more determination than ever. She scribbles with the fury of a million warriors. "You're very valuable." She learned that word yesterday. "So you need lots of protecting."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Do you think this will make her feel better?" Maddie asks as she closes the panel.

Jack lifts his soldering mask and nods. "If one thing can make a person feel safe, it's fifty anti-ghost devices hidden in their walls!"

"I just worry about that doodle. What if something really got in?"

"Mads, you personally handcrafted every single sensor put up in the kids's rooms! If a ghost had gotten in, we'd know! To get past then they'd need deep knowledge of exactly how our deigns work and how they detect ghost energy, and no ghost has that!"

"You're right, you're right. Still, I hate to think she might be having nightmares about something like that. It looked like it had devil horns."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Peek-a-boo!" Jazz grins at Danny. "Peek-a-boo!"

It never gets old for him! No matter how many times they play, Danny loves it!

"Peek... a-boo!" Jazz does little jazz-hands.

Danny disappears, and Jazz grins. "Where's Danny? Where'd he go?"

Danny reappears, and-

"B-b-boo!"

Jack and Maddie dart into the room! Maddie swoops Danny up, eyes wide!

Danny giggles, and says it again. "Boo!"

Maddie and Jackie both tear up. In unison they shout, "HIS FIRST WORD!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny gnaws on the toy with his little baby gums.

"I can't believe it. Already teething," Maddie sighs, holding him. "Seems like only yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital."

Jack wipes his eyes. "He's growing into a young man already."

"Oh, Jack, stop it, he's not nearly a young man."

"But he will be before we know it!"

Maddie pats her husband on the back comfortingly as he begins to blubber.

Maddie closes her eyes, thinking about those early months with Danny, figuring out how to prepare for his floating and invisibility, learning to not panic when his eyes and hair changed color, learning that sometimes when they do his clothes change color as well...

She's startled out of her thought by something warm and wet on her lap.

She looks down to see the teething toy on her thigh... and a whole lot of nothing where Danny's head should be.

Then it' back when she blinks, and he's beginning to whine for his toy.

She quickly picks him up off her laps and retrieves it, giving it back to him.

So... the ghost abilities are still developing, then. She'll have to let Jack know about this later.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Daniel Fenton," Jack says, the most serious Jazz has ever seen him, "You're in big trouble this time, mister. I don't know how you did this-"

Jack shakes the empty tube of baby snacks, safe for teething babies.

"But I will get to the bottom of it!"

"Look like he already did," Maddie jokes, setting Jazz's breakfast down for her.

Jazz laughs, because it sounds like a Smart Adult Joke and she thinks those are funny, even when she doesn't understand them.

Danny babbles, smacking his chair's food tray.

"Oh no you don't, mister! You're getting regular baby food this morning and that's all!" Jack grabs the jar of food, and holds up the spoon. "Now, here comes the Fenton Ghost-Tracking Copter!"

He puts the spoon up to Danny's mouth-

-and right through his head.

He gasps and pulls back, and Danny's head reappears. He babbles, smacking the tray again.

Maddie drops her fork. "I can't believe I forgot! That's what I was going to tell you about!"

Jazz looks at her parents. "You didn't know he does this?"

They both gawk at her. "You did?!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny reaches up and grabs Jazz's nose. Jazz wrinkles it, and he laughs.

Jazz sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes, and Danny laughs even harder!

Jazz looks at her parents as they finish setting up the picnic blanket. "I'm the funniest big sister ever!"

"You sure are, sweetie!" Maddie scoops Jazz up and gives her a kiss on the cheek. "You get it from me."

Jack laughs. "It's true! Your mother could get the whole Ghost Hunting Club laughing out HAZMAT suits off all day long back in the day! ... 'Course it was just the three of us, but still, three's a crowd!"

"May as well have been doing stand-up," Maddie says, setting Jazz down on the blanket.

They enjoy the little outing, the sun shining but not beating down, the cool breeze just enough to crispen the air but not freeze.

And then Jazz looks at Danny. She sees glowing eyes, and a puff of breath come out of his mouth. "Uh-oh. Mommy! He's gonna cry!"

Maddie picks Danny up right as he starts to wail. She hugs him, and is shocked. He doesn't feel cold this time!

Is he just cold inside?

Or is there some other problem?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jack rubs his ears. "That child wails like a Banshee!"

"He could very well be doing exactly that," Maddie points out. "We still don't know what other abilities he'll develop as he ages!"

"Or how well he'll be able to control them. ... Mads... should we homeschool him?"

"It's a little early to worry about that, Jack."

"I know that tone, you're worrying about it too."

"... We can't just keep him isolated from the rest of the world, Jack. It'll be unhealthy for him. And what if it makes him lean into his ghost side too much?"

"So you think we should let him go to school."

"Yes. ... But not pre-school. We'll teach him to not use his abilities around other kids, and then send him to Kindergarten."

"... Alright, Mads. If you think that's what's best, then that's what's best!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on, that's it! Yes, yes, WHOO!" Maddie picks Danny up as soon as he walks over. "Who's a strong little Fenton? Who's the best little boy at walking in the whole wide world?"

"Danny!" Jazz cheers from the couch.

"Danny!" Maddie and Jack both cheer at once.

Danny laughs and squeals, kicking his legs and flapping his arms. His first proper Walk! Not just a step or two and then crawling, that was real walking!

Jack takes Danny, holding him aloft. "You're a real butt-kicker in the making, son! You'll be as strong as your old man someda-"

Jack feels something bump him, hard.

He shouts as he goes down! Danny going with him!

But as Jack meets the floor, he feels Danny's weight disappear from his hands!

He lands with an "oof", and looks up to see Danny floating above him, surrounded by a faint white aura. Danny looks down and babbles, sucking his thumb. Then... he moves.

He's only ever floated in place before. But as he looks down at his dad, he kicks his little legs and moves! Moving right across the room!

And then he looks behind his dad, and his breath comes out in puffs. He starts crying and wailing hysterically.

Jazz peers at where Danny is looking. "Mommy, hit the air with the stick!"

Maddie gently grabs Danny. "Why, sweetie?"

"Danny is scared! So we have to protect him!"

Maddie grabs her Fenton Baton, and gives the area Danny was looking at a good thwack. She expects it to go right through the empty air.

Instead there's a loud zap! There's a cry of pain! And then a semi-transparent form zooming out of their house!

Maddie's jaw drops. Jack scrambles to his feet and grabs every ghost weapon in radius, forming a protective circle around the family with them!

Maddie looks at Danny, who's now calm.

And his breath isn't visible.

Hmm...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We're just seeing if my hypothesis is right," Maddie assures.

Jazz sobs, clinging onto her leg. "NOOOO! HE'LL GET HURT! OR STOLED!"

"Stolen, sweetie. And Mommy and Daddy would never let that happen."

Jazz scream-sobs again.

"What if we can promise you the ghost will be in a big, big box?"

Jazz looks at her mom with watery eyes. "Like around Danny's crib?"

"Yes, like that."

"But-but he's so little."

"It'll just be a second, sweetheart."

Jazz sniffles again. "... Can I hold the stick?"

Maddie smiles softly. "Yes, sweetie, you can hold the stick."

A couple hours later, Jack and Maddie return home with a ghost in a box. It's yelling something, but the box is soundproof.

Jack sets the box down, and goes to grab Danny. He comes back, and holds Danny firmly while walking towards the ghost. Danny's eyes are covered by a too-big hood on his little shirt. He can't see, or hear, that there's a ghost nearby.

Danny's breath comes out a visible puff about two feet away from the ghost, and he starts crying. Jack steps back a ways, and Danny's breaths become normal again. He settles down.

Jack walks closer. Puff of breath, and crying.

Jack steps back. Normal breath, calm Danny.

"He can sense ghost's," Maddie says, looking in awe at her baby boy. Her face breaks into a grin. "He's his own portable ghost detector! He'll never be caught unawares, he'll be able to always defend himself!"

She runs up to Jack and hugs them both, kissing Danny's little forehead. Danny babbles.

"He'll never be caught unawares," Maddie says again in relief. "Oh, this makes me feel so much better."

"Mommy? ... Does that mean we're haunted all the time?"

Maddie's relief hardens and breaks in her chest.

All those times Danny's Ghost Sense has gone off inside! All those times!

She pulls away. "Jack, we're upping our security!"

Jack nods. "Time for FentonWorks 2.0!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny giggles as his dad chases him around the house. He phases through doors and turns invisible in hiding places, always giving himself away with laughter.

Jack grabs Danny just before he phases through the next door. “Gotcha!”

Danny laughs, happy little kid squeals that you can hear through the whole house. Jack puts Danny on his shoulders and heads into the kitchen. “He’s getting pretty good at running! Say, whatcha making, Mads?”

“Meatloaf. Would you mind helping?”

Jack sets Danny down at the table and helps Maddie make dinner, while Danny eyes something on the counter.

“Cookie.”

Maddie looks over. Danny is staring at the cookie jar. “No sweetie, no cookies yet.”

“Cookie!”

“Not yet.”

Danny starts to cry. “Cookie!”

Maddie walks over, and gives Danny his binkie. Danny refuses it af first, but once he has it he calms down fast.

He looks at the cookie jar still, though.

And, slowly, he lifts out of his chair. He kicks his little legs, pushing himself forward. He plops down on the counter, and reaches into the jar with an intangible hand.

He pulls out not one, but two cookies!

He gets so excited that he starts waving his arms, making happy noises.

Jack looks over. “What? Maddie, he’s gotten into the cookie jar!”

“I’ve got it!” Maddie walks over and scoops Danny up in his old Anti-Ghost-Phasing Blanket. Soft, warm, and totally ghost-proof.

Danny whines. “Cookie!”

“I said not yet, honey.” Maddie grabs the cookies and puts them on the counter. She safety pins the blanket around Danny like a little cape, except it takes away his powers.

Danny sits in his chair, throwing a fit! But to no avail. Eventually he just sits there, tear-faced and angry.

And then Jazz walks in. She looks over at the cookies, and then at Danny.

She walks over and snatches them off the counter as quick as she can! She casually walks over to the table, and hands them to Danny.

Danny brightens up. He shoves one cookie in his mouth, and gives the other back to Jazz. His original intention.

Jazz smiles, and scarfs the cookie down just before Maddie turns around.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why?” Danny looks at his mom with wide, innocent eyes.

Maddie’s heart aches. “People might get scared.”

Danny frowns. “Scawy?”

“No, no, you aren’t scary. But the... idea of ghosts, for a lot of people, can be scary.”

Danny thinks, and then walks over to the fridge. “Scawy.”

Maddie looks at the drawing Danny is pointing at. It’s Jazz’s drawing of The Ghost.

The one that’s been haunting them for months.

Black horns, it looks like. Red eyes. Deathly blue skin. It makes Maddie shiver, knowing it had direct access to her children for so long.

Danny starts to cry. “I scawy!”

Maddie scoops him up. “No, no sweetie! You are nothing like that monster, nothing like it at all! And you never will be, I promise!” Maddie hugs him tightly. “Oh, my poor baby... how about we take a break? Do you want to help Jazz paint something?”

Danny sniffles, and nods. They head upstairs, leaving the talk for another day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Kindergarten, Jack,” Maddie says, packing the little lunch box. “He’s already in Kindergarten!”

Jack is already openly sobbing as he makes Jazz a sandwich.

“Do you think he understands what he needs to do?” Maddie asks no-one in particular, just worrying.

“He understands perfectly!”

Maddie jumps a little, and turns around to see Jazz smiling proudly. Danny stands right next to her, a shyer smile on his face. Maddie tears up at the sight of him with his little backpack and school outfit on.

Jazz looks at Danny. “Go ahead! Show them what we practiced!”

Danny puffs out his chest to look strong. “I won’t go through anything, turn invi-invisi- um, turn not-seeing-me, I won’t fly, and, um... and if I feel another ghost, I’ll use this!” He pulls his little Fenton Emergency Pager out of his pocket.

Maddie wipes her eyes. “Perfect, honey,” she says, letting the pride seep into her voice. “Oh, my baby boy! Growing up so fast!” She picks him up and kisses his face. Danny wraps his arms around her neck.

“Do I have to go, mommy? They’ll think I’m scary.”

“Oh, honey. You aren’t scary, I promise.”

“... What if I need to be scary?”

“Mommy will come be scary for you.”

“She very good at it,” Jack chimes in, shivering a little as he remembers the time a ghost attacked while Maddie was buying Danny’s first pair of little shoes. By the time it was over, Jack almost pitied the thing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie gives Danny one last hug. “Remember, calls u anytime you need us, okay?”

He nods. “I love you, Mommy. I love you, Daddy. I love you, Jazz.”

“You’re just going to school, not saying bye forever.” Even as Jazz says it, her lip wobbles and her voice cracks.

Danny floats up to the car window give her a hug, before being quickly held up by Maddie to cover the power use.

“That’s the only time today you’ll do that,” she reminds him.

Danny nods.

Eventually... the goodbyes are done being dragged out. Danny’s family drives away as the teacher leads him inside.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny sits on a swing by himself, not sure what to do.

Usually at home he plays using his powers. He doesn’t know how to be good at tag without making it so people can’t touch him, or how to play hide-and-seek without turning invisible.

He kicks the sand. This is stupid. He misses Jazz. He can play with her.

“Hi.”

Danny looks up. Another young boy is standing in front of him, holding some kind of electronic. The boy holds out his hand. “I’m Tucker.”

Danny shakes his hand, focusing very hard on keeping it a real hand. “I’m Danny.”

Tucker shows him the electronic. “Want to play my game?"

Danny looks at it. It’s a coloring game. He nods.

They pass it back and forth between each other for a while, both coloring in different parts of the same picture.

Eventually it’s time to back in. Danny and Tucker ask if they can sit closer together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, how was it?” Maddie asks, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she picks Danny up. “Have fun?”

“I made a friend!” Danny yells! “His name is Tucker and he’s really nice!”

Maddie relaxes. “Oh? How did you meet?”

“He let me play his coloring game!”

“That’s wonderful!”

“We made a tower out of blocks and it was the strongest ever! And I never used my powers!”

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie!”

Maybe Maddie can stop worrying now. ... Probably not.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What if we gave it big scary horns?” Danny says as he doodled something in crayon. “Like the thing that watches my window.”

Tucker looks at him with wide eyes. “A monster watches you?”

“My parents don’t let it touch me. They hunt ghosts.”

“Oh. Do you hunt ghosts?”

Danny shakes his head. “I’m too little.”

“Oh. Me too.”

“You should give it bat wings.”

They both look up. The quiet girl who usually sits in the back is standing in front of them, her hair pulled back in a tight black braid and her clothes perfectly pressed.

Danny looks at the drawing, and nods. He adds the wings. “We’re drawing the monster from that story we heard today.”

The girl sits down. “I bet it had claws. And could breathe black fire!”

Danny adds them on. “You’re really smart!”

The girl nods. “I am.”

“I’m Danny.”

“I’m Tucker!”

The girl grins. “I’m Samatha.”

“Wow... that’s a long name,” Danny says, eyes wide. “My sister has a long name too. Do all girls have long names?”

Samantha thinks. “I dunno. I haven’t met all girls.”

“Oh. We don’t know all boys, either.”

They spend the rest of free time coloring. Once it’s over, Samantha moves to sit with them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, how was today, sweetie?”

“I made another friend! She’s really good, and her parents make her have long hair but she wants it short, and we made this with her!” He shows Maddie the drawing.

Maddie grimaces a little, but turns it into a smile. “It’s lovely, dear. Looks... a little like Jazz’s picture.”

Danny nods.”The monster in the story lived in the window. So does this ghost.”

“... What?”

“He lives by my window. But he can’t come inside, so I make faces at him and make him mad.”

Maddie speeds up a little. “Danny, we’re going to be altering your windows when we get home. Okay?”

“Okay.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny leads Sam and Tucker to his room with his tiny arms full of snacks. He brings them inside, and proudly stands in the middle. “This is my room!”

"Cool!” Tucker exclaims. “Whoa, you have a computer?”

Danny shakes his head. “That’s to keep ghosts out. Ghosts hate us.”

“You’ve seen some?” Samantha asks, eyes wide.

Danny grins. “So many!”

“Can we see some?”

“Sure, I can even-”

They hear a gasp in the doorway. Turning to look, they see Jazz. “Danny, you didn’t let me meet your friends!”

Danny looks horrified. “Oh no!” He runs over and pulls Jazz into the room. “This is my big sister Jazz! She’s the coolest big sister!”

“I’m Tucker!”

“I’m Sam!”

Jazz grins. “Guess what I learned yesterday?” She points out of the room. “How to use the remote!”

The trio of toddler’s eyes sparkle. They cheer for Jazz as all of them descend, ready to Take Control Of The TV!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“-and this is The Box Ghost,” Danny says, showing his friends the doodle him and Jazz made at home. “He’s silly. He wants to be scary, but he isn’t.”

Tucker and Samantha nods like it the most important thing they’ll ever learn.

Danny pulls out the next drawing. “This is Scary, the ghost from my window.” It’s a new drawing, a little more detailed thanks to Jazz being better at drawing now. And Danny having seen the face so, so many times. “I don’t see him anymore. Mom and Dad kicked him out of the window.”

“He’s ugly,” Samantha says, wrinkling her nose.

“He looks stinky,” Tucker agrees.

Danny looks over at the window. “Shhhh! He’s here!”

Tucker and Samantha look at the window. They see nothing.

They look back at Danny. They see little puffs coming out of his mouth, and his eyes are the wrong color.

Danny pulls his pager out. “It’s okay. Mommy will come scare him away.”

“We can’t see him,” Samantha says.

Danny nods. “He’s hard to see.”

“Do you have to have glowy eyes like yours?” Tucker asks. “I have to have glasses. Are your eyes like Ghost Glasses?”

Danny thinks, and then nods. “I guess so. ... OH NO!” He covers his eyes. “You aren’t supposed to see that!”

“Why not?”

“Mommy said it’s a secret! You’ll think I’m scary!”

“But it’s not scary.”

Danny tilts his head, still covering his eyes. “It’s not?”

“No, it’s cool!”

He slowly uncovers his eyes. “... Do... you think this is scary?” He holds out his arm, and makes it invisible.

Tucker and Samantha gasp! Danny pulls his arm back, about to cry. They think he’s scary, they won’t be his friends anymore-

“That’s so cool,” Samantha says.

“I wanna do that!” Tucker exclaims.

Danny can’t believe it for a second. And then he grins. “I can do more stuff too! I’ll show you at my house!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie paces the floor while Danny sits on the couch, his little face burning with shame.

Jazz sits next to him, arms crossed. Jack stands in front of him, Maddie pacing beside her husband.

“You told your friends?” Maddie asks again.

Danny nods, keeping his head low. “I didn’t mean to. I saw Scary, and my eyes turned green, and I can’t fix that.”

Maddie sighs. “I know, sweetie, but you showed them more after! We caught you flying them around your room! How can you even carry both of them at once?!”

“It’s easy when I’m a ghost,” he says, still keeping his head low. “Everything’s easy when I’m a ghost.”

Maddie stops pacing. “Oh, sweetie... I know it must be strange for you to suddenly have to hide it.”

Danny nods. He sniffles a little.

“It’s for your own safety, son,” Jack says. “You understand that, right? We just want you to be safe.”

“Other kids can be mean, Danny,” Jazz says. “I’m smart, and some kids are mean to me for that.”

“But Samantha and Tucker aren’t mean!”

“No, they aren’t,” Maddie concedes. “... I guess what’s done is done. Danny?” She kneels down in front of him and gently lifts his head up, wiping his tears away. “We aren’t mad. We’re worried. They’re your friends, but they also don’t understand this the way we do.”

“... Can you make them understand?”

Maddie nods. “We’ll absolutely have a talk with them. You can go get them from your room right now, even. But Danny? No-one else. Okay? These two kids are the only kids you will ever tell. Promise?”

Danny nods, still sniffling. “Promise.”

Maddie puts on her HAZMAT glove and holds out her pinkie. “Fenton promise?”

Danny links her pinkie with his, letting it go ghostly. “Fenton promise, Mommy.”

“Okay. You can send your friends down now.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny waits for his mom to come pick him up, Samantha and Tucker sitting next to him.

Samantha looks up suddenly. “I don’t like my name.”

Danny and Tucker look at her.

She stands up. “From now on, my name is... is Sam!”

Danny and Tucker clap, because they learned that’s the polite thing to do when someone has a dramatic moment like this. They learned it from watching the older kids do a play.

Sam sits back down. “I’m Sam,” she says happily. “Sam.”

“Sam is a good name,” Danny says.

“Easier to write,” Tucker says.

“Yeah.” Sam is very proud of her new name.

They wait a bit longer, and a long black car pulls up. Sam stands up, but her parents don’t step out.

A tall, white-haired man does, one none of them have ever met before. He smiles down at them. “Hello, Danny. Hello, Danny’s friends.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Danny’s parents,” he says, giving a slight bow (or maybe just bending over to hear them better since they’re so much shorter than him).

“I don’t know you,” Danny says, accusatory. “Mrs. Emma told us about people like you!”

The Man shakes his head. “I’m not a stranger, I promise. Your parents and I are very close.”

“I don’t know you,” Danny says again. He steps between The Man and his friends. “I’m gonna tell Mrs. Emma on you.”

“Danny, really, your mother called and asked me to pick you up.”

“You liar! She always picks me up!”

“She’s fighting a ghost right now.”

“She leaves fights to come get me!”

The Man sighs. He grabs Danny’s arm. “Stubborn like your parents. Come on, I promise you’ll be fine.”

“NO!” Danny yanks his arm, trying to get away. “LET GO OF ME!”

“Stop making a scene!”

“LET GO! YOU-”

Danny gaps, a puff of breath coming out and his eyes turning green.

“S-Scary,” he whimpers. “SCARY! MOMMY! MOMMMYYYY! SCARY HAS ME!!! HELP!!!”

Danny yanks again, Tucker and Sam finally running inside to get Mrs. Emma!

The Man scowls. “I’m trying to help you, little badger!”

“YOU’RE THE SCARY IN THE WINDOW!” Danny looks at him with bright eyes, tearful and afraid. “GET AWAY!!!”

Danny’s little hand glows green, and suddenly The Man is clutching his stomach instead of Danny’s arm. Danny runs inside, right into Mrs. Emma’s arms. He sobs to her as she frantically calls the police, trying to read the plate of the car speeding off into the distance.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maddie hands Jazz a Baton. “This is in case this ‘Scary’ come after you,” Maddie says, still shaking a bit. “Okay?”

Jazz nods.

“Danny, this is for you.” Maddie hands him a black-and-white suit. “This is to keep other ghosts from sensing you, okay? So wear it under your clothes.”

Danny nods, still crying.

Maddie looks at Sam and Tucker. Their parents were late picking them up, but with the attempted kidnapping it was decided that they’ll stay with The Fentons for a few hours until their parents could get them.

“You two get these.” She hands them Fenton Pagers, and Fenton Fun-Sized Ghost Stunners. “They can hurt people too, so only use them on ghosts. Or if someone tries to do... what you saw today, ever again.”

Sam and Tucker nod.

“And Danny? From now on, wait with Mrs. Emma until we come inside to get you.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“And when I get my hands on this ‘Scary’, I promise you’ll never have to worry about him again.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny looks around to see if anyone is watching. He, Tucker, and Sam are crouched under a desk in the classroom while everyone else is out at recess.

He holds out his hand to the stack of paper, and closes his eyes. For a second, nothing happens.

And then it glows green, and a small beam shoots from his hand! Tucker and Sam gasp!

“You’re like a superhero!” Tucker exclaims, standing up.

“A ghost superhero!” Sam says, standing up too. “You need a superhero name!”

Danny shoots up, smiling widely. “What should it be?”

They all think for a long, long time.

Sam perks up. “I know!”

She grabs a book from the corner. The book is a Halloween one, mostly for pictures with just a few words. She flips to a page, and points to it. “This word! It means Ghost!”

Danny and Tucker peer at it. “How do you say it?” Tucker asks.

Sam grins. “Phantom!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Phantom?” Maddie says, looking at the doodle.

Jack nods. “Apparently Sam came up with it! Our boy wants to be a ghost hunter after all!”

“Superhero, this says.”

“Same thing!”

“Jack, what’re you making there?”

Jack holds up the suit, one of the prototype Anti-Ghost-Detection suits for Danny. “I got out my old needlepointing stuff and am making him a superhero costume! See, it’s a P!”

Maddie squints, trying to get a better look at the outline. “It looks like a D.”

Jack looks at it. “Hmm. I guess from some angles. But it’s a P! Or, DP! Danny Phantom!”

Maddie’s expression goes soft. “Awww! Okay, you keep making that, and I’ll hang this doodle on the fridge! But no actual ghost fighting until he’s at least fourteen, right?”

“Absolutely!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny steps into the school “Halloween Party” with his hands on his hips and a bright grin, looking like a mini-version of his dad behind him.

“Aww, and what are you dressed as, Danny?” Mrs. Emma asks.

“A superhero ghosthunter!” Danny says proudly. “My parents made this for me!”

“It’s great,” Mrs. Emma says genuinely. “Alright, go mingle! We’re going to make paper jack-o-lanterns later so now is the time to trade candies!”

Danny walks over to his friends, still striking the pose. Tucker, dressed as a robot made out of cardboard boxes, pouts in slight jealousy as Danny comes over. Sam, dressed as a vampire, grins. “P for Phantom!” she yells.

Danny runs over faster. “Yeah! My dad put the logo on!” He shows it off proudly. “I’m gonna be the best ghosthunter ever!”

“You can work from the inside!” Tucker says, getting over his jealousy thankfully quick. “Make them think you wanna haunt stuff too!”

“Yeah!” Danny strikes another pose. “But I’m actually going to catch them all, because I’m Danny Phantom!”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny and Jazz are playing with dolls in the living room. “Pow! Take that!” Danny shouts, making his doll punch Jazz’s.

“Nooo!” Jazz cries out in a husky voice. “But how? I’m The Scary! Nothing can not fear me!”

“I don’t fear you!” Danny waves the hand of his doll, making laser noises. Jazz shakes her doll around, making dying noises. “I’m Danny Phantom, the strongest ghost boy ever!”

“Nooooo!”

Maddie chuckles, watching them. “That Scary better watch out for more than just us.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where are we going?” Danny asks again.

“It’s a surprise!” Jack says again, still as excited as when the road trip started.

Danny huffs, looking out the window again. “Why couldn’t Sam and Tucker come?”

“Because they’re spending Summer visiting their families,” Maddie says. “And so are we, sort of.”

“I though Auntie lived in Spittoon,” Jazz says.

“She does! This is different.”

After hours (years in the minds of the kids), they pull up to a mansion. All fo the boredom washes away instantly, Jazz and Danny cramming into the window to see it!

“Are we rich?” Jazz demands to know.

“We’re well-off, but not quite. Welcome to your honorary Uncle Vlad’s house!” Maddie cheers.

“Vlad was out best friend in college!” Jack says, grinning. “He got back in contact with us a few years ago and we’ve been thick as thieves since! He asked us too come over this weekend, and we thought we’d surprise him and let him meet your two at the same time!”

Danny and Jazz cheer! THEY GET TO STAY IN A MANSION!

The family piles out of the car, and stand in front of the door! Maddie and Jack make sure Jazz and Danny look extra nice, and ring the doorbell!

It takes a long minute, so they ring it again!

Finally, a man opens it up! “Oh, Maddie, Jack, I’m so sorry I didn’t hear-”

Danny shrieks. His eyes are glowing bright as they can, his breaths giant puffs! He holds up his hand and send a little beam right into Vlad’s side!

Vlad falls back with an “Oof!”

“Danny!” Maddie scoops him up. “What on earth has gotten into you? Oh, Danny!”

Danny is sobbing pointing at Vlad. “It-it’s him! The-The Scary! He-he tried to take me!”

Maddie and Jack freeze. Slowly, they both look at Vlad. Jazz pulls out her Baton.

“Vlad?” Maddie says coldly.

“Didn’t I only invite you two?” Vlad wheezes.

Jack points a ghost detector at Vlad. It goes off.

“Now, now, I can explai- AGCK!”

Jazz starts happening him with the Baton before he can finish his sentence. Maddie hands Danny to Jack. “Sweetie, close the door and take Danny back to the truck. I need to have a word with Vlad.”

Jack does as told, holding Danny in his lap and soothing him.

“He-he tried to take me,” Danny sobs again.

“Don’t worry, son.” Jack hugs him tightly. “No-one’s ever going to be able to do that. We’ll always keep you safe. We promise.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And what do we always wear while testing new devices?” Maddie asks, handing Danny a Fenton Ghost-Zapper that would use Danny’s own ghost energy to work.

Danny grins, and puts it on. “Face mask!”

“Because?”

“Because lab safety is very important!”

Maddie grins. “That’s right! And who do we thank for reminding us of that every time we’re in the lab?”

Danny points. “Jazz! Thank you, Jazz!”

Jazz grins proudly.

#danny phantom #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #kidnapping tw #attempted kidnapping #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

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