#which looks a lot like a shoebox so the moment i saw it my brain went NOOO. LOUISE.

[itwoodbeprefect]

i have approximately a million questions about what's going on here. i haven't watched this episode in a very long time so at first i thought the pizza box was empty and that's why he's annoyed when he ALMOST closes the fridge (not fully, just sort of… almost. which already gets me a little unsettled because he's just blasting his own bare legs with cold air) but that's not it so i guess he's just upset that he only has a quarter of an old pizza in his fridge? (even though there seem to be a lot of assorted containers that i would assume contain something?) but then he takes it and i think he's going to throw it out, and then it slips onto the floor and he gingerly picks it up like it might be bad so i REALLY think he's going to throw it out, and then instead…….. he puts it in the oven. in the cardboard box. (which by the way is entirely white, no logos, which is a whole different line of questioning i'll graciously swerve for the time being, but huh.) IN A CARDBOARD BOX. i mean, the way he's walking around in his bathrobe looking in the fridge and not wanting anything from the fridge but then taking the cold pizza anyway and dropping it to the floor and then still deciding to EAT IT already sort of implies that this is hutch in his depression era (an idea further solidified when the Woman Of The Episode shows up at his door and he turns out to have clothes strewn everywhere across the room, which he frantically starts picking up the moment there's someone around to judge him) but pUTTING A CARDBOARD BOX in the OVEN sort of gives the impression that he's just straight up trying to burn his house down. what is this. PLEASE let starsky take you to a questionable hotdog/spaghetti place, because i'm pretty sure they'd be serving safer (and more) food than this. (and then of course there's the moment of delighted horror i felt when he does receive his female guest and he's like oh, are you hungry, i just put a pizza in the oven here. HUTCH. you dropped that pizza on the floor, it's about to catch fire, and it's at best one slice for both of you. i know ubereats wasn't a thing yet but c'mon, like… i'm sure huggy is always up for a new lucrative business idea. starsky probably doesn't want you to starve and would bring you food if you promised to try his latest favorite hamburger place. you LIVE OVER A RESTAURANT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING.)

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞���💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter one - Big Sky

Also on Ao3

Billy doesn’t give a fuck about the rodeo. 

He doesn’t care about country music, or fancy horse riding, or the beauty queens, even the bull riders. 

What he does give a fuck about it not being in his house today. 

Not when his dad was obviously itching to pick a fight. Not when Max gave him such an easy out over breakfast. 

“I saw a flyer for a rodeo. I think it’d be kinda neat.”

It was in town for four more weeks. 

And Billy could tell the second he and Max bought tickets, he was about to be spending more time than he ever fuckin’ thought he would spend at a rodeo. 

He based that on the way Max’s eyes lit up the second she stepped inside the big fairgrounds. 

Not knowing that he was right. He was about to spend a lot of time at the rodeo. 

But not for Max. 

For himself. 

And a pretty horse rider named Steve.

He didn’t see Steve that first day. 

Was too busy shelling out his own hard-earned cash to buy Max sugary funnel cakes. Sitting next to her watching the poor suckers get bucked off their pissed-off bull. 

But when Max was in the car she turned to him, the sun setting outside, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Can we come back tomorrow?”

And the tickets were dirt cheap. And Billy hates being at home. 

So they did. 

And they watched the rodeo queens. 

And the team-roping. 

But it wasn’t until the calf roping that Billy felt his heart sink. 

Because he thinks Steve Harrington might be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Tall and broad, smiling like sunshine at his gorgeous black quarter horse, patting her strong neck and leading her to the entry point of the arena. 

His name was loudly announced after the event name. 

Calf roping, with our very own Steve Harrington! Steve will navigate his beautiful June into the arena, trying to rope and tie down a calf as quickly as possible!

Billy had tuned out everything but his name. 

Leaning forward on his bench seat to watch him lead June up to the starting line, give her a few more pats before swinging one leg up, heaving himself up and over her back, settling into the saddle with a grace Billy doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to describe. 

Steve appeared to shake himself out, leaning forward over June’s neck to speak quietly to the sleek horse, wiggling his hips a bit in the saddle. 

And then he sat back up, readying himself and waiting for the countdown. 

He was off like a fucking shot. 

Billy’s never seen anything fucking like it. 

June kicked up dirt as she thundered through the arena behind a small herd of a few calves, Steve ducked low against her neck as he led her forward, his lips moving as he spoke quietly to her, egging her on and forward. He was clinging to her for dear life, his legs straining as he was tossed up and down in the saddle. 

And then he let go of her reins, one hand reaching for the rope on his belt. 

And it was the most hick shit he’s ever seen. 

This flannel-wearing cowboy on his perfect fucking horse, roping a baby fucking cow. 

He slipped the knot around it from his perch on the moving horse, lassoing it easily like that was a common skill, and with a fluid practiced movement, he tossed himself off the slowing horse, getting on one knee to tip over the calf and tie it up like it was second nature. 

And maybe it was. Performing in a show like this. 

That’s all it was, a performance. Practiced and rehearsed over and over for Steve and June. 

It was over in a blink, Steve tossing his hands up to show he was finished, and the calf didn’t break its bonds. 

The whistle blew and Steve’s time was read to the arena. Nine seconds. And apparently, nine seconds was a good time, judging by the way Steve’s raised his fists in the air, and patted June’s neck so gently. 

He mounted back on his gorgeous horse as the calf he had roped was released by a few of the rodeo workers and the next guy took his position at the starting line. 

Steve did a lap around the arena of June’s back, smiling and waving to the crowd. 

And maybe Billy just has an overactive imagination. 

Maybe his stupid gay brain was looking for something not there. 

But he could’ve sworn he saw Steve grin just a little bit brighter in his direction. 

There were a few riders after him. Competing to earn a faster score on the same track. 

But Billy didn’t give a fuck about calf roping if he wasn’t watching Steve and June. 

The sun was setting as Billy finally led Max out of the fairgrounds, one hand on the top of her head, steering her towards the Camaro. 

“So, you think we can come back next weekend” Max was giving him a big shit-eating grin, powdered sugar all done her front from the final funnel cake Billy had shelled out to buy her. 

“Don’t see why not. Get’s us outta the fuckin’ house, don’t it.”

“Plus, there are lots of good-looking cowboys, just everywhere. Did you see the guy doing the cattle roping, or whatever? He was cute .” Billy rolled his eyes. Max was just touching the age when she stopped thinking of boys as gross, saw them as cute, and whatever else she said. It also made her realize that having a gay brother apparently meant talking about nothing but boys. It made Billy wanna slam his head into the steering wheel. He grunted in response as she kept going on and on about Steve. 

Like Billy didn’t see the way his thighs gripped the sides of his horse, like he didn’t watch as he hurled himself off June to tie up the fucking calf. Like he didn’t watch him take that fucking victory lap, shit-eating grin looking like home on his pretty fucking face. 

“You gotta carry your own weight, you know that, right Shitbird? I’m talking, pay for your own damn fried shit.” He bets Susan would give him money for tickets if he acts real nice this week. 

He can’t blow all his savings at the fucking rodeo of all things this summer. He’s got plans for the wad of cash burning a hole in the shoebox in the back of his closet. 

Max huffed at him. 

“What am I supposed to do? Get a job? I’m thirteen .”

“So? Babysit or some shit. Rob an ATM. Fuck if I care. Just quit stealing all ‘a my goddamn cash for your fuckin’ funnel cakes .”

“You’re just pissed off because you didn’t try one. They’re the best. You gotta have one next week.”

“I, unlike you, care about what I put in my body.”

“Yeah, because cigarettes and beer are so much better than fried dough .”

“Whatever.” The truth is, Billy’s gotta watch what he eats. Max didn’t know him when he was prepubescent and chubby. He can’t be sitting there shoving funnel cakes in his mouth and not expect it to all go to his gut. Not like her. There’s not an ounce of fucking baby fat on her. She’s positively scrawny. If anything, the funnel cake might help her out a bit. 

“Yeah, whatever .” She huffed, slumping back in her passenger seat. “But can we come back?”

“Fuck, if you keep askin’ me, the answer’s no .”

She huffed again. She does that a whole lot when they talk. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw the way you were watching Steve race. You were practically drooling .” 

Billy clenched his jaw. 

“Was not .”

“Was too .” 

And Max had a knack of leading Billy into moments like this, childish little arguments that made him feel kinda weird inside. Made him feel kinda warm at how sibling it was. Like they hadn’t been forced together just a few years ago. 

For all his bitching, he really did like the little spit. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger asshole than she’s always accusing him of being. 

“You don’t even know what I look like when I’m really eyeing a boy, if you think that was it. Just, you know. Respected his riding.”

“ Respected his riding. Yeah ‘cause you wish he was riding-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m pushing you out of the fucking car.”

“I’m right, though.”

Billy just reached forward to turn up the radio, letting Dee Snider drown out any other awful shit Max wanted to say to him. 

Which was probably showing his hand too much. No direct answer pretty much means affirmative when it comes to Billy. And yeah, Max knows that. Judging by the way she’s cackling like a goddamn gremlin over the sound of the music. 

He just pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal, letting them fly down the highway. 

And he thought about Steve and June, thought about how fast Steve could press that girl to go. Thought about him leaning forward, flattening himself to the horse’s neck, gripping onto the reins and urging her forward, urging her faster. 

And if he thought about those strong legs wrapped around him, if he thought about what Max was about to say, Steve riding Billy like he would that fucking horse, his hips flexing as he bounces up and down, well, that’s his business. 

And the next Saturday, Susan slid him a crisp twenty-dollar bill to buy Max some lunch at the rodeo. 

They took it more seriously this time, bringing water bottles, and Max slathering thick white sunscreen on her freckled skin. 

Billy even wore shorts, some old jeans he sacrificed to the summer gods when he wore holes in the thighs and chopped pretty much in half. 

And it was kinda fun. 

He knew what to expect now. Knew the barrel racing was all women, all beautiful horses winding their way along clover-shaped tracks. He knew that the bull riding was a little more fun to watch with a shot in him, and that his fake i.d. could get him an alcohol wristband from the tent at the front.

Max sneered at him when he bought himself a beer later in the day. 

“Uh, you know you have to drive me home, right? Like, and not crash your stupid car on the way home.” 

“Fuck off. It’s one beer.”

“And also that shot earlier, and I know you have a flask.”

“Okay, what are you, the cops? I’m just tryna enjoy myself in this blistering fucking heat. I don’t exactly get my rocks off to any of this shit.” Which is a lie. He’s totally sold on every stupid fucking event at the motherfucking rodeo. 

“Fine. You wanna get stupid and drunk? Then you have to take me to the pageant. I wanna watch it.”

“Since fucking when do you give a shit about the pageant .” Max glared at him. Her nose was beginning to get red. 

Maybe if Billy were less of a shithead he would tell her to put some sunscreen on. But she was really testing his patience today. 

And then her eyes went huge, and her jaw went slack, and Billy was just about to tell her to close it and quit lookin’ like a dead fuckin’ fish when he heard someone cough slightly behind him. 

And when he turned, he almost made the exact same stupid dead fish face as Max. 

Because gorgeous cowboy Steve was standing right in front of him. In another cracker of a flannel shirt, stupid blue jeans, and fucking cowboy boots, because yeah. He’s a goddamn hick that rides a horse and ties up calves in a traveling rodeo for a fucking living. 

And God save Billy, because hot damn. 

Steve had an easy smile on his face, a little bit lopsided, and perfect white teeth showing between perfect pink lips. 

“Hey there.”

“Howdy,” Billy responded before he could stop himself, his face burning up. 

He was hoping he was already sweaty enough Steve wouldn’t notice the flush. 

But thankfully, Steve’s smile went wider, and he laughed, this gorgeous bright laugh, his head tossing back, and that thick hair flowing easily. 

He had gold streaks in his hair, lighter browns tussled within the darker colors. Billy wondered if they were natural, days spent out in the sun on his horse. Part of him hoped they weren’t. Part of him hoped that Steve was that intentional with himself and his goddamn hair. 

He smiled at Billy. 

“I’m Steve.”

“We saw you. Last weekend,” Max blurted out before Billy could kick her. She looked shocked that she had even spoken when Billy turned to give her a death glare. But Steve just laughed his gorgeous laugh again. 

“And what’d you think?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you on the way home.” And Steve was back to looking at Billy, and his eyes are so fucking big, like, who’s eyes are just. Like that. Just fuckin’. Big. 

“And what about you, uh-”

“Billy. And this is Max. My sister.”

“Well, Billy,” and fuck Billy nearly creamed himself at the sound of Steve saying his name. “Did you like my display of talents ?”

“Could say so. I don’t give too many shits about all this hick farm stuff. But I can respect it.”

“Well, that’s alright then.” And Steve reached out to pat Billy once on the shoulder. “I hope I see y’all around. I gotta head off, June needs some TLC before our time.” He smiled at Max, and her already red face flushed deeper, almost blending into the roots of her flaming hair. 

And then he doubled back. 

“You know what, I forgot why I came over here in the first place.” He was digging through his jeans, rummaging around in his back pockets. 

Billy wanted to slide his hands in there, cop a feel while he helped Steve look for whatever he was going to offer Billy. 

And then Steve brought out two white wristbands. 

“They’re for, uh, VIP seating and stuff. If you’re interested. Gets you closer to the arena. That way I can just see what you look like after I’m comin’ off a ride.”

Hoo boy. 

This little cowboy has some fucking charm. 

And he knows it too, judging by his smug little half-smile he gave Billy while he fastened the wristband around his wrist. 

He helped Max with hers, doing it faster than he had Billy’s, and with a lot less eye contact, which was a good sign. He’s not perving on his twelve-year-old sister. Which is cool. 

And then he was looking back at Billy, and brushing his long fingers over the tops of Billy’s shoulders, his arms out in his shirt, the arms torn off an old Aerosmith t-shirt he found at the Goodwill last year. 

“You should reapply sunblock. Don’t want you burning now.” And Billy’s sure if Steve was wearing a Stetson, he woulda tipped it at them. “Enjoy the pageant.”

And he was off, and Christ, those jeans. How did Steve even successfully ride his horse in those things? They were so tight, showed off his nice peachy ass as he walked through the fairgrounds. 

“Wow,” Max said. And yeah, Billy felt the same. 

“In case it wasn’t clear, based on the way he was flirting with me, and also that he’s way too old for you, but, uh, dibs .”

“Billy, you can’t just call dibs on a person.” Billy just laughed. 

He knows that his twelve-year-old fucking sister doesn’t have a shot in Hell with Steve. Really, he doubts he even has a shot in Hell with Steve, but he also likes to spend his time making her life as difficult as possible without actually being a shitty person. So, he just riles her up. Says shit that’ll get her going. He wouldn’t be doing his brotherly duties if he didn’t say that shit. 

Max calls it even by kicking him in the shin twice and making him watch the stupid beauty pageant. 

Which, like, why the fuck are there beauty pageants at the rodeo anyway? 

Turns out it wasn’t pageant at all, but the four previous Miss Rodeo’s all lined up and looking far too glammed out for this fucking heat. 

Max faked being disgruntled by the disappointment, but Billy knows, somewhere inside that tough bitch little soul of hers, she’s glad she didn’t have to sit through a goddamn pageant just to make Billy miserable. 

Besides, Billy had whipped out his flask a few times, and he was feeling alright. Just buzzed enough that the heat had stopped making him feel quite so disgusting. 

But not too drunk to miss calf roping. 

And yeah, maybe it was a little bit lame to make their way over to the VIP seating earlier enough that they scored the front row. But when Steve came trotting out, leading June behind him, Billy was close enough he could pick out the cluster of moles on Steve’s left cheek. 

So, lame was not in Billy’s vocabulary today. 

It was pretty much the same thing as last week. Steve made everyone in the arena ooh and aah with his riding, tied up the calf in less than ten seconds once again. 

But this time, when he took that jaunty little lap around the small arena, Billy knows for a fact Steve grinned at him. Knows his stupid gay brain wasn’t making up the wink he tossed effortlessly in Billy’s direction. 

And they left, just like last weekend, as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. 

“Just, c’mon. Mom gave you money .” Max was whining for a corn dog, of all things. When they have perfectly good, not fried food, at home. 

“Maxine, I swear to Christ, I’m fucking tired. Let’s go home so I can crash, and you can fucking drive Susan up the goddamn wall with your whining.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem too bad.” And Billy felt his insides curdling at that voice, felt himself wilting and shriveling because he would not be getting out of this day without one final, no doubt embarrassing, encounter with his gorgeous cowboy. 

Steve was leaning against a booth selling chili fries, looking like a perfect picture of a Clint Eastwood movie. 

Billy had never liked westerns. 

But he was gonna go home and spend all night watching every one he could get his grubby little hands on. 

Steve pushed off the side of the booth as Max found her words again. 

“You don’t have to live with him.”

“And you don’t have to live with my folks. I’d trade you any day.” 

And Billy nearly died. Right there. On the spot. Because. Holy shit. I’d trade you any day. 

Billy was more than happy to follow this fucking hick around America, watch him ride his pretty horse before fucking him against the stable wall. 

Or whatever. Do they have stables? Billy doesn’t know how a traveling rodeo works. 

But like, they’ve gotta have stables, right?

“Nah, you’d get sick of him. He stinks.”

“Have you ever smelled horse shit? Because that’s the fragrance I wake up to every morning.”

And Max was laughing, and Steve was laughing, and Billy was trying to keep his hands as casually as possible in front of his slight chub. 

“Will I get the privilege of seeing you two again?” And what a way to word it? The privilege. And then Steve was looking Billy up and down, and he was biting that perfect bottom lip and opening his mouth and “I could always give you my phone number. So we can. Meet up. Next time you’re here.”

“‘Course. You can give us the grand tour.”

And Steve was digging in those tight back pockets again, and shoving his phone into Billy’s hand, and he doesn’t have a passcode, but his home screen was a picture of him and his fucking horse which is, just about the sweetest thing Billy’s ever seen. 

And Billy put himself in as Billy Hargrove , and then panicked because Steve doesn’t know his fucking last name. So he settled for Billy and then for good measure shoved San Diego after it because. Billy’s a common name, okay?

And Steve took his non-password protected fuckin’ horse girl phone, and Billy was giving him as charming a smile as he could muster with sweat on his upper lip and saying-

“You better text me, Pretty Boy. So I can save your number.” Billy shrugged, looking off to his left to try and seem. Nonchalant. “In case I wanna see you again.” 

And Max was rolling her eyes, but she wasn’t stopping away. Wasn’t even whining at Billy, no doubt on her best behavior in front of hot cowboy Steve. 

But Steve had a glint in his eye, and if Max wasn’t here Billy would be playing this all different, laying on the charm a lot thicker than he was. 

But he can’t be a horny bastard in front of her. That’s just, like, gross. 

So he settles for making a real show of licking his bottom lip, and maybe flexing his bare arms just a tiny bit. 

“We should probably get goin’. Got a curfew for this one,” Billy jerked his head in Max’s direction. She huffed before she could stop herself. “See you around, Cowboy Steve.”

And Steve gave another one of his pretty ringing laughs. 

“Come again soon, Billy and Max.” And again, Billy’s sure that if Steve were wearing a hat, he would’ve flicked the brim at them as he set off back into the rodeo, dodgin off the main thoroughfare. 

“Wow. That was embarrassing for you.” 

Billy whipped his head around to stare at Max, giving her the most disgusted look he could muster. 

“The fuck you mean?”

“You were so obvious.”

“That’s the fucking point . We were flirting. It’s supposed to be obvious, you demon.” Billy shoved her once before stomping in the direction of the parking lot. 

“Yeah but you were like, making these faces at him.”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I was doing, okay? It was all very calculated . Let him know I’m down for it, and if he texts, then I’m good to go. If not, then I move on.”

And the thought of Steve not texting was kinda, disappointing. Because Billy really wanted him to text. He wanted to stay up late giggling at his phone and the dumb things Steve texts him and pretend they don’t make him flush like a fucking school girl. 

He pointedly didn’t look at his notification when he reached the car, just shoved an old tape in and turned up Black Sabbath when Max wrinkled her nose at it. 

They were both quiet on the drive back home. Something heavy unsaid between them. 

And only as Billy was pulling into his spot in the driveway did Max suck in a big breath to actually put it out there. 

“I won’t tell. About him. Not even Mom. Not even that I think he’s cool.”

“Thanks. Easier just to. Avoid at all costs.” 

And if Billy were a better person, maybe he would hug her or something. 

But they don’t do that. Instead he sighed and didn’t hip check her violently off the porch like his instincts were telling him. So really, he’s a fucking saint. 

[stevenbasic]

I’m shrinking. I’m fucking shrinking. 

I couldn’t believe it, I was so confused. How is this happening?? This can’t be happening!! But it was then that I first really realized it...

We had almost made it out of the dressing room. I was just straightening my tie. All the new clothes - hers and mine - were separated out: ones we wanted, ones we didn’t. We’d been doing this for more than an hour and we really needed to get back to the office. My patients were due to begin…

..15 minutes ago!

“Uh, Melissa,” I began, as she was just touching up her lipstick in the dressing room mirror, “we really need to get b-”

“KNOCK KNOCK!” called a woman’s voice, as the curtain which led out to the store was pulled aside. We both turned, and in came a middle-aged woman with a measuring tape draped around her neck and dress on a rack...a white dress…

...a wedding dress. That’s weird, for a department store, right?

“Oh, you’re almost done in here?” the lady said. She was a salesperson from the store, a real chatty one that we’d found ourselves having to avoid earlier as we shopped. “Oh good. I’m just going to leave this here. It’s a dress that a bride didn’t like, she’s returning it after all the alterations...the nerve...” Why she was explaining this to us, I have no idea.

“Oh it’s beautiful!” Melissa answered, reaching out to finger the embroidered fabric, “Why would she..??”

“Oh I don’t know! And I had to do so much to it - I do it all myself, you know, for the store, the sewing, the tailoring! She was such a tall girl…” the woman said, casting a glance up and down Melissa, and pulling a pencil from out behind her ear, “probably about your height.” The woman narrowed her eyes. “Long legs, too. Like you. In fact...” She pulled out a small pad of paper from a pocket.

“Oh my goodness,” Melissa sang, reading the woman’s intentions, “can I try it on?”

“Well sure, sweetie!!” the saleslady said, glancing briefly over my way,“I don’t see a ring yet but are you two going to be-”

“Haha no!” I interjected, slipping my arms back into my sport jacket. I wasn’t sure if the saleslady was hearing me or more intent on the numbers on her pad. “Nothing like that. We just work together. In fact we were just about to head b-”

“Oh, don’t be a poop! Yes, we’re engaged..!” Melissa laughed, slapping my arm, “He’s so funny!”

Wait what?!

“By this time next year we’ll be ‘Dr. and Mrs. J’, hopefully shopping for baby clothes…” Melissa claimed, somehow with a straight face, “I do need to start looking for a dress sometime, right honey?” 

“Melissa I-“

“And it’s every girl’s dream to see herself in a wedding dress. Here - now…” She cocked her head, hands analyzing the dress, the elasticity of the bodice, “...this should fit, right?”

Wait. What is she doing? I thought.

“Well, let’s see-” the saleslady said, eyes finally fully taking in Melissa’s eye-popping curves, the shadow of doubt settling over her face - perhaps worried, now, about the well-being of the dress. Nonetheless, she pulled out a measuring tape and - without a moment’s hesitation - reached it around  Melissa’s generous hips. “Wow, you’re a big girl,” she said, eyeing the number, stretching the tape to the top of her head. 

Melissa kicked off her shoes as the seamstress measured her height. “I’m forty-six in the bust…” she offered, “right, sweetie?” She looked over at me with a twinkle, trying to keep from giggling.

“Uh, yeah,” I answered. I would have flushed red but had run dry of blushes long ago.

”Six feet...and a bit…” the saleslady finally announced, penciling it onto her pad, “You could try the dress - and you could have it for a good deal.”  She hung her tape around her neck again, slipped the pad away. “Don’t you think she’ll look lovely coming down the aisle?”

“Yes, but..no. Well of course yes but like I said,” I stammered, flustered by how little these women were listening to me, “we’re not getting m-”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be nice, sweetie??” Melissa beamed, her eyes meeting mine in mischief, her hands reaching for mine, giving them an excited shake, “That way we’ll have more money for the honeymoon!” In an instant, she’d dropped my hands and grabbed the dress by its hanger.

“Haha Melissa...really, this is silly,” I said, trying to laugh as she headed back to the changing room, scooping up a shoebox on the way, “We’re not-”

She closed the door on us.

“Will you listen to him? What a kidder,” Melissa sang out from behind the shut door as she, apparently, was beginning to change into a wedding dress, “Don’t think you’re getting away from ME mister!” In the transom over the door, I saw her arms reaching up, already stripping off her top, “I’m going to MAKE you marry me!”

Well, she was certainly enjoying herself, teasing me like this, with this charade. I felt so powerless, absolutely unable to stop her. 

“Oh I can tell already,” she was saying, “This is going to look so pretty! At church, dancing at the reception..so many snaps, though! You’re going to need to help me get out of it afterwards....”

As Melissa changed in the stall, to my chagrin describing our hypothetical wedding night, the saleslady - Lorna, by her name tag - turned to me, smiling. I did my best to smile back, barely able to shrug and deciding, for my own sanity, to play along. I was, of course, telling myself I was hoping that this would be over quickly...but then the idea of seeing Melissa in a wedding dress began to weasel itself into my mind.

For the moment, Lorna and I both listened to the sounds coming from the changing room. Little grunts and giggles of effort from Melissa, the groans of stretching fabric. With each little ‘oof’ I couldn’t help but picture her squeezing herself into the bodice. “Oh I really hope I don’t pop this dress!” we heard her laugh, “If I don’t stop putting on weight you won’t be able to carry me across the threshold!”

As we waited, Lorna spoke up. “I could measure you for your tuxedo right now, hun,” she offered,  already on me with the measuring tape, measuring my arm, shoulder-to-wrist, “We have some nice ones to rent but of course you’d want to buy. About how tall are you?” 

This is not even a battle worth fighting, I thought, despondently helpless to the whims of both these women. “uh...5’11”?” I answered, even as Lorna had me swiftly measured head-to-toe.

“You’re 5’8”, hun,” she replied plainly. 

“Gah! What?” I blurted, “No. That can't be right.  Do that again.”

A mistake, of course, I immediately thought, as the seamstress raised her brows and set back to task. I’ve always been 5’11”...or, well, maybe 5’10 ¾”...But then, memories of little things I’d noticed over the past couple weeks - how my pants had been fitting, the car seat - all rushed back at once, made my vision begin to swim. It was like I’d known something already...but just hadn’t adm-

“Yep, 5’8”,” Lorna confirmed, standing next to me. She was not a tall woman, and looked up at me with bugged eyes through thick bifocals. I knew it made no sense, that she must be wrong, that I’d have to check this myself once I got a minute back at the office - but something inside me was already dark with dread.

“It’s very popular these days, I hear,”  Lorna continued, as a windstorm of confused thoughts began to whirl through my brain, “Couples like you.”

”Couples like what?” I snapped, maybe too harshly as I stood there trying to make sense of this. Had I really shrunk three inches?? And...is she trying to make me feel better?? “And...we’re not a cou-”

”Couples where the girl is taller, hun,” Lorna pressed on, “Lots of women are looking for shorter men, they say. It’s very fashionable. You’ve seen it, right? My daughter was telling me th-”

The door to the changing room opened. 

Holy shit.

Stopping us both in our tracks, Melissa stepped out in a wedding dress that looked - wow. Off-the-shoulder, lacey sleeves, a slinky silhouette. A classic look that was not too different than what my wife wore at our wedding seven years ago - but Sheryl certainly never looked like THIS. The dress accentuated every one of Melissa’s dramatic curves and-

I grimaced as I realized that I had just spent several flabbergasted seconds openly ogling her while she just stood there, looking down...way down...on me. 

“5’8”, huh?” she asked, stepping right up to me with a funny smile

“Oh you look lovely!!” Lorna gushed, “And my goodness with those shoes on so tall..!” She took a step back, to really take Melissa in. “Magnificent, really…”

“Thank youuuuu…” Melissa purred, placing a hand firmly on my shoulder. I looked up at her, and felt smaller than ever. “Maybe we should elope, honey? Next week on vacation?” she teased, “Do the wedding on the beach?”

The imagery was just too much...

“Wouldn’t that be so fun?”

“I think we’d have to take it in at the waist,” Lorna continued, half to herself, stepping up to Melissa’s side to pinch and tug at the fabric with a critical eye, “Let it out here...and there…” She took another step back, nodding in open admiration. “And hon I have to say you look just adorable, standing there next to her,” Lorna crowed, “If you two weren’t a couple I’d get you together with my daughter.”

“Oh no,” Melissa laughed, turning for the moment towards Lorna and inadvertently pressing her large left breast into my upper back, as her strong arm went around my thin shoulders, “Hands off he’s mine!”

Lorna chuckled. “I guess the good ones are always taken, hm?”

“yeah…” Melissa mused, a funny smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes as she turned back to me, possessively straightening my collar, “isn’t that the truth…”

=========================

Had a lot of help from my crew on this one, but especially Alex-GTS-Artist who was kind enough to donate his services and get us a look at Melissssy in a wedding dress. So awesome, thank you! Check out his DeviantArt and support him if you can!

https://www.deviantart.com/alex-gts-artist

[deathduty]

Moonlight Sudoku || Deirdre & Otto

By some miracle, Deirdre gets someone else to do some sudoku with her in a cemetery. Except this person is very cool. Too cool. ( @gravityfissure )

By some miracle, Deirdre found herself in a cemetery again, with sudoku, waiting for some poor man to show up and hopefully get thrashed by some spawns. Admittedly, she was curious to what kind of a man Otto was. He seemed so charming online, in that way some people could be. And either naive or reckless enough to agree to this dumb idea of hers. But unlike Alain, this man would be fun. She perked up as she heard the telltale crunch of dry dirt and leaves, snapping up from where she sat on a tombstone. She flung the light of her flashlight in the intruder’s face, grinning widely as he came into view. “You must be...Otto?” And to think, he was more handsome than she thought too. “Did you bring your sudoku?” 

Otto had parked up his bike in the parking lot just outside the graveyard. He didn’t make a habit of hanging around cemeteries if he could but sometimes his spell stores required resupplying and that meant going out to gather some goofer dust. The dead didn’t tend to mind so long as you asked permission before you took what you needed and if they did - he’d found a dusting of salt tended to silence any issues they might have. Then of course there were plenty of other dangers lurking around the graveyards, vampires for one loved to hang out here and their proclivity for counting things? This lady’s interest in the dead and sudoku had left him wondering if that’s the sort of person he’d be dealing with tonight. A natural precaution left him with a simple wooden stake, dagger, bottle of holy water concealed beneath the hang of his tailored black blazer. Present more for his own peace of mind. His steps slowed as the flashlight was swung in his face and the woman spoke. Oh, well that was interesting. “And you must be Deirdre the screamer, I should’ve realised you were Irish - snap,” he flashed a playful smile as he sauntered nearer, flourishing a little sudoku book in his hand, “right here darling… Right here.”

Deirdre clutched her chest, flinching back in surprise. “You recognized my accent?” She stood up a little straighter, beaming and proud. “So many Americans have been calling it Scottish that I lost faith.” But clearly this man knew his European accents. But when he said it like that, Deirdre the screamer---Irish---he sounded like a warden putting the pieces in place. She’d never met a charming warden before, but tonight could be a night of firsts instead of seconds. “Fates,” she breathed, watching him reveal his sudoku book with a flourish. “I love you. I think I might be falling in love with you. Did you know the last man I took out to do sudoku at a cemetery just said it was a stupid idea?” Granted, she was making claims about her sudoku cult, and trying to get twenty dollars off of him, but that was neither here nor there. She gestured to the tombstone opposite to her, wanting him to sit. “You wouldn’t happen to want to get naked now too, would you? Because I’d adore that.” Her grin was lopsided. Well, now that she liked him, she was a little sad the spawns would inevitably come out and try to make a meal out of him. Or would that be more fun? Clearly a man like him, with a brain, wouldn’t come to a cemetery unless he knew how to defend himself from the risks. Her mind wandered back to thinking he was a warden. She could only know for certain with some prodding. “Do you meet girls in cemeteries often, Otto?”

Otto winked before clarifying, “well, Americans can’t tell the difference between most things. So it’s your lucky day, A because I’m not American and B because I was born in Dublin. Plus, your name’s old Irish.” His laugh rang out with genuine amusement  as she declared her sudden infatuation. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one but darling we’re just getting started aren’t we? No need to rush,” as she gestured to the tombstone he moved over and hopped up to perch on the edge of it. “It’s certainly unique,” he admitted to her saying that someone had thought it stupid, stupidly dangerous perhaps but that was part of the thrill of life wasn’t it? “Now now,” he started with a sly smile as he flipped open the sudoku book he’d brought along “we’ve only just met, and while I do appreciate your enthusiasm, all good things come in time.” He paused, cocking his head as he took out a little pen, “after all, if just meeting me is enough to make you love me, who knows what’d happen if you saw the rest of me hm?” The question caused his eyes to flicker up and study her for a passing moment before returning to his book. “Sometimes,” a slightly evasive answer but that was part of the fun wasn’t it? “Depends what I’m getting for meeting them in graveyards.” Which wasn’t untrue, though mostly it was ingredients and hand-offs that saw him in places like this. “Do you invite strangers here a lot then?” he faked a look of sadness a hand gracefully moving to touch his heart the act and everything about his persona reading easily as casual confidence “and there was me starting to think I was special.”

Deirdre grinned. Now, she really liked Otto. “Oh, I couldn’t tell. You don’t sound…” She gestured to him, knowing he’d fill in the blanks. “I assume you must have moved to America young then...right?” It was the only reason she could think of him not having the telltale accent. Or maybe he was just one of those people that lost it over time, but he didn’t seem the sort to be so easily swayed. But oh, did she like him. So many humans could be so dull, with nothing of excitement to offer. But this one at least had charm, and enough charisma to impress her. “Why, aren’t you cheeky? I think you and me will get along perfectly fine, Otto. Especially if a little danger excites you.” And turned to her sudoku, easily working her way through the puzzle in front of her. “Oh, just a couple of times a year. I’ve been trying to start a sudoku club. But you know---” she looked up, smiling. “Some people are just so scared of cemeteries. That wouldn’t be you now, would it? Do you believe in the things that go bump in the night?” She could feel them around her, their chill shooting down her. They lingered around in the darkness, she was sure. Spawns weren’t smart, but they did always have impeccable timing. “I might just have ulterior motives for bringing you here, Otto. Something more than getting you naked.” Like getting him eaten, even thought she knew it wouldn’t happen. But maybe the spawns could take a leg or two. 

“I know and yes, I did” Otto knew well enough that he didn’t really sound like much of anything. Too young to fully adopt his home’s accent and stubborn enough to resist the American way he’d been raised that ultimately left him in a strange middle-ground of neutrality. Not to mention his grand-mother’s insistence on speaking Cantonese around the shoebox flat when she’d been alive. “You don’t get anywhere in life without a little cheek” it was a good lesson to learn early on “but if this is a usual for you we might indeed.” His pen moved across the paper, filling in boxes and noting potential answers in the margin. “If I were afraid of cemeteries I wouldn’t be sitting on a tombstone doing sudoku now would I? Plus, life and death are cyclical. They feed one another, to be afraid of death is to not appreciate the complexity of life, don’t you think?” he answered in kind, always prone to answering a question with a question. It made for a curious rally and a useful insight into someone’s mind. His pen paused mid-jot, a surreptitious glance being cast towards a few of the shadows that seemed to stir in a strangely unnatural fashion. “Oh?” he arched a brow and fixed her with a curious look though he saw another shape flit through the darkness a shudder of anticipation shot through his nerves “ahhh, so I am special. Don’t tell me, you’re going to get me naked then try and sacrifice me to some ancient unfathomable being to bring it back from whatever false reality it's been chained to? It wouldn’t be my first rodeo of that sort…”

Deirdre smirked, listening along to Otto. The sudoku in her hands was a distant thought now, mostly filled in, and completed in her mind anyway, she had far more interesting things to focus on. She tilted her head, “I’ve often said the same thing.” It was like he was reading a page out of the banshee philosophy handbook. “I agree.” But it was a strange thing for a human to say, she’d never once heard one speak that way. Something, though she didn’t know what, was special about Otto. Did he know how to impress? Did he know what she was (not that it was too difficult, Irish and sitting in a cemetery)? Beyond them, a branch snapped, some spawn’s pathetic idea of an ambush. She continued to eye him, unflinching. Was he simply probing her? Trying to set her up to say the kind of thing that would reveal her hand? Eventually, she shut her sudoku book, uncrossing her legs to cross them again on the other side. “You’re the one that agreed to meet me in a cemetery at night. In this kind of town...you had to be expecting danger.” Her grin grew wider and crooked. “And maybe I like watching humans flounder around.” And wider. “And maybe I think it’d be fun to see you squirm, Otto. But don’t worry, you’re not going to die  today. Not that it matters, right? You’re not afraid of death, are you, love?” And then the hissing of the spawns cut through the tense night air, curling around their conversation. She could feel them growing closer and closer...until they finally darted out, predictably focusing on the one with the human heart first (something about her cold skin and slow heart had her mistaken for a corpse where spawns were concerned, but even the dumbest of flesh-eating creatures would eventually realize she was a meal too). 

Part of being a spellcaster was being able to recognise and comprehend the duality of the world. Light and dark, life and death, dusk and dawn, war and peace. Two sides of the same coin that kept on spinning holding the world on its knife edge at risk of slipping at any given moment. Otto could recognise the patterns in the chaotic threads of the world and where others saw blind ruin he saw moments of possibility hidden within the chaos being put to order in that destruction. Possibility that could be wielded to his own benefit in some, and manipulated to suit a given outcome in others. Reading people, and gauging how to interact with them was another facet of his talents. Deirdre was… well, strange, and clearly had some hangup on death. So tapping into that seemed the most ideal method to try and understand her mentality. Did he think she had an ulterior motivation? Yes. Was that going to scare him off? Absolutely not. Was that reckless? Absolutely. Did he mind? Not at all. He wouldn’t be here otherwise. The snap of the branch gave direction, and while every sense in him urged him to turn and look in that direction he fought them and instead casually leaned back a fraction one hand on the cold stone behind him nearer to the holy water stored on the back of his belt. “Ah, well if it’s me squirming you’re looking for…. Well, I’m afraid I’ll disappoint.” No answer but a laugh was given, as with a surprising catlike grace of a dancer, Otto spun off the side of the tombstone rolling into a low crouch as two spawns leapt at the spot he had just been sitting swiping out with claws before crashing into one another instead. He watched the pair barrel away ass over teakettle into the nearby gravel hissing and spitting at their ‘ambush’ being foiled drawing the small dagger and unstopping the holy water with the other hand to pour it over the blade. 

The container was dropped aside and a manic glint lit in his eye, sharp and intent as he next drew out a handful of crushed slate which he dropped in a circle over the hand holding the blade. “Corio,” the incantation was spoken clearly as a haze of purplish-black energy sparked like a tesla coil, one dagger seemingly becoming three as it was launched at one of the two spawns which in their confusion tried to split out of the way uncertain might be a true blade. Their confusion hindered them long enough for the single dagger to strike home with more force than any one blade should have the power to inflict. The blade ripped skin and muscle and was there a crunch of bone or was it the sound of the gravel underfoot? Who could say, but the spawn howled in anguish as the wound engulfed in flames a moment later. The spawn recoiled, bolting straight into the other that was attempting to right itself. 

“Reditus,” a sharp hand movement followed in a jerking motion that had the blade come spinning in reverse back to his hand. There was a separate spawn to the two he was dealing with, but Otto seemed less easy prey than initially thought. Enough that it turned its attention to the other stranger in their territory clacking a row of haphazard teeth menacingly as it stalked a circle around the women’s tombstone. She would be an easier meal tonight.

Deirdre had watched several slayers do their work, but none muttered incantations—prayers, maybe but never words that sparked magic. She watched him curiously, working with a professional's grace, and a wise man's flair. Otto knew what he was doing, and he was showing off. She watched the blade fly out and come back to him, honing true as if magnetized to some invisible force within him. Could witches do that? Alchemy was Morgan's expertise, and Deirdre never bothered to inquire more from her about the other kinds. Magic never was much of a concern, but it was mesmerizing watching it played like a concerto before her. "Impressive," she whistled, uncaring of the spawn that gave up on him and now stalked towards her. "What kind of magic is that? I thought only mediums could do the whole—" She waved a hand around in the air, "Teletubbies thing." The spawn coming to her snarled, hissing, stunned to momentarily confusion with her ignoring of it. But maybe that was the mark of an easy prey? And so, pushing whatever basic instinct told it that something was wrong aside, it lunged at her. 

And with the same speed, Deirdre opened her mouth, screaming one sharp note aimed at the spawn, its effect diverting harmlessly away from Otto. The spawn stumbled back, whimpering in confusion. She shifted in her seat, yawning, watching the spawn flinch at the sight of her mouth opening again. She enjoyed that most about being a banshee, she could sit, and with no effort at all, end the lives of anyone she pleased. She could kill Otto if she wanted, even with his fancy magic. She wondered if he knew that, or if his faith in his own abilities outweighed the rumor of hers. "You know, you're wrong, Otto. You don't disappoint, even if I wanted to watch those things take an arm off." The spawn she knocked to the ground had already righted itself and settled its eyes back on her. "Tell me, do you always need to use tools to get the job done?" Her eyes flickered to his dagger. To emphasize her point, she whistled another scream at her spawn, knocking it back down as it recoiled in anguish. All she needed to do was open her mouth, did Otto's magic carry the same power? Curious to know more, she urged that he continue his show. 

Words had power if you knew how to channel them right. Otto’s words combined with the fluid gestures and sigils his fingers seemed to tut out were what gave rise to this display. Which it was in a way, each calculated movement designed to maximise the limited capacity of energy he had to expend as efficiently as possible. Years of training within a coven had honed skill but this was something else, a pulling on the very essence of reality and that which grounded things to this very existence and bending them to his will. Each target was focussed on in turn, his eyes narrowed in precise focus so that a misstep was never made because if he made a wrong movement, set his foot in just the wrong stance, these could easily backfire considering the experimental nature of it.

He heard Deirdre’s running commentary, like an entertained theatre goer enraptured by a performance but no response was given as he turned his attention to the second spawn – the first having thought better of this little confrontation and scuttling off into the dark from which it came. A trickle of sweat ran down his brow, the addictive rush of power returning once more. It felt so good. Like a high he never wanted to come down off of. But he glanced in Deirdre’s direction as the other spawn raced at her and she… screamed? He blinked, curious and intrigued yet distracted enough for the second spawn to lunge all gnashing teeth and raking claws. One catching his side as they toppled over and slammed into the side of a mausoleum, the fucker was strong and a white hot pain flared across his ribs where a stray clawing hand caught him. The weight kept him pinned as he fought against the creature, keeping it away from his throat with the flat of his dagger as he focussed another spell, letting the nick of another claw serve as the fuel to power it. Kicking out the creature was launched away as if it had somehow lost several kilos and barely weighed an ounce sending it in an arc. Otto knelt, dashing his hand through his own blood and raising it forth above his head, palm upturned in the direction of the arcing spawn before his fingers curled into a fist and with a loud cry wrenched his arm down. The spawn’s body contorted, and a sudden pulse of violet magic exploded as gravity seemed to firmly reestablish itself. The spawn’s mangled body suddenly jerked straight down, pulled by some unseen force before pummelling into the floor with an overwhelming force that snapped several bones leaving them jutting out at mangled angles thick black-red blood glistening from their broken shards.

Stumbling to his feet, he tugged out the stake from his belt kicking the mangled spawn over and jamming it into his rough approximation of where it’s heart should be. A terrible agonised scream filled the air before its form burst into flame and Otto staggered back, grabbing onto a tomb-stone for support as he caught his breath and tried to fight off the wave of dizziness that threatened to overcome him. Even then he only heard a fraction of what Deirdre (still looking impeccable as when she’d arrived) said and he snorted a laugh. “Not always,” he huffed, swiping a hand over his brow to wipe away the sweat, the foxish smile and coy glint returning even as he braced his remaining hand against his side, “but then again who doesn’t enjoy a good toy when you have one to hand?

She was an observer, first and foremost. Deirdre’s mother drilled the concept in her. She was to watch, never to intervene. But what was devout accordance to duty in practice, always morphed to strange, sadistic pleasure in watching someone else struggle and fight. She didn’t think Otto would blame her, he seemed like a performer, an actor. And the magic he did was special, and she swore she could see that he knew it too. That some part of him did enjoy this rush; his power. Who wouldn’t? Deirdre enjoyed seeing creatures fall to her screams just the same. Power itself, and the acquisition of it, was intoxicating. Otto did his work, and Deirdre watched. The spawn was crushed with invisible force and she looked on with delight---the bodies she’d seen mangled from large falls came to mind, and yet, that manner of force was seemingly summoned from Otto himself. This wasn’t alchemy or necromancy, this was hardly telekinesis. It was something better, grander, and she wanted to see more.

Otto, on the other hand, didn’t look up to the task of performing more. The rest of the spawns had scurried off, favoring self-preservation between Otto’s power and Deirdre’s screams. Yet, instead of offering her help to the man, clearly injured, she watched him. Observed him, scrutinized his breathing and posture. She was wrong to think he was a warden, but what he was...she thought she might just have more fun with. “I like knives,” she said, her face impassive, “I can scream. But I like knives. I like watching the blood spread under my strength against another’s flesh. Sometimes, I think it might be my undoing, to want to use a knife instead. That’s my toy.” But just as soon as the admittance tumbled from her, the glaze over her eyes fell, and concern pulled up her features. The woman who thought she might just find artistry in murder, the girl who looked curiously on to death and the her acts of it, was replaced with the one that knew better. She rose, moving slowly towards Otto, pulling the handkerchief she kept in her pocket out to press against his wounds. “Do you need a hospital?” She asked him, “It might please you to know you’re not dying, and won’t be any time soon, but ironically, cemeteries make a poor place to rest.” She tilted her head, “what kind of magic was that?”

The taste of power was honeysuckle sweet, pure temptation injected into his veins and left Otto riding a high that felt like it would never end. Even the sting of the gash was dulled in the heights of his power ebbing and flowing through his body a dizzying and infinite height of pleasure that couldn’t be abated. How could anyone not get lost? In being able to take and bend the very essence of something and apply a force that could crush, splinter and crack a body to something beyond all human recognition. Good thing they aren’t human, a voice reminded him. 

It was that thought that brought a sudden flash to the forefront of his mind, and his graceful moves staggered as the mental image of a mangled body rag-dolling to the floor flashed through his mind's eye. Eyes pleading for mercy that wasn’t given. A life taken a mistake, but blood on his hands. The memory was enough to startle Otto’s concentration enough that he felt a sudden twist of sickness in his stomach. He stumbled, hands going to press flat to the mausoleum as he bent over screwing his eyes up as he fought off the urge to empty the contents of his stomach right there. He sucked in short sharp pants, in and out, in and out spitting out a globule of saliva into the grass as he set himself to rights the latent tingling at the tips of his fingers urging him to just do one more. One more spell wouldn’t hurt.

He had to clench his fists against the urge. And where some might ask for help, Otto didn’t, used to being alone on jobs that he had to sort his own shit out or risk facing the consequences of being caught. He could feel the wintery coolness of an observational gaze but he pushed it out of his mind. “Nothing wrong with liking knives,” he mustered a grin brandishing one of his golden gilt daggers “no kink shaming here,” Otto joked. He might look a little peaky and rough around the edges, but hell if he’d let an opportunity to quip pass him by. “You’re fae, no one else speaks quite so poetically yet succinctly about death,” more a statement of fact than a question “vampires get all flowery and morbid about it.” He grimaced at the pressure but he couldn’t help the pained chuckle “I’d rather avoid hospital. Don’t fancy explaining a spawn scrap to the attending.” Not dying. Well that was good news at least. “Really?” there was a mild touch of wryness to the question but slowly they walked away from their perch back in the direction of the entrance. “A highly experimental type,” he answered after a moment seeing no harm in sharing considering she had as well and the new bike. 

Deirdre smiled, watching Otto. He didn’t look well, but as a credit to him, he didn’t act like it. She flashed the inside of her jacket, revealing the knives that lined it, in a muted attempt at knife-based solidarity. He wasn’t going to die, she knew that, but that didn’t mean he was well. Or that he wouldn’t, if she just left him here. Strange as it was to be worried about him now, when she brought him here in the first place, Deirdre was not without some compassion. “Did you just figure that out now?” She cocked her head to the side, “if the Irish accent and the love of cemeteries didn’t give it away before. And you’re a witch.” Maybe she should take more people out for sudoku in cemeteries, it clearly revealed a lot. “I’m known for many things, Otto, but my medical care isn’t one,” she withdrew her hand. “No hospital then, but you have to go somewhere. Where can I take you? That is--because you don’t seem like you’re in any state to drive a bike.” She followed him out of the graveyard, gesturing to her car, the immaculate Aston Martin parked poorly off to the side. “And maybe you can tell me if that experimental magic is of your creation, or something ancient. It’s remarkable and…” she trailed off. She didn’t know Otto well enough to make any strong claims, but she was starting to get a sense of him. “...dangerous,” she continued. What were his limits? And would it matter at all if she knew? Would she have to worry about which side of his friendliness she fell on? “....exactly who are you again?” She whispered, her breath a wisp in the cool night. She opened her car door for him, pausing as she realized he might not come along with her. Otto was, above all, a mystery. And Deirdre knew better than to force the unraveling of his game. “What will it be, Otto?”

Growing up in the kind of environment Otto had there wasn’t any time for letting yourself act anything other than good. Even with the rolling of his stomach he knew better than to do anything other than pull his shit together and carry on. “I had a suspicion, but…” he waved his hand vaguely to the carnage around them his grin a tad slanted in its amusement “all that kinda confirmed it.” Still, Otto snorted strangely amused by the notion of Deirdre being a doctor “yeah, your bedside- no, you’re graveside manner could use some work.”

There was a natural distrust of hospitals in him, or perhaps it was the fear of documentation. “Home’ll do…” he answered after a moment’s thought. Home would do just fine. The trickle of blood was slow, but the gash was relatively superficial. Nothing he couldn’t stitch up at home if needs be. “Mm… I hate the thought of leaving it here.” But what else could he do? Glancing between the bike and the Aston Martin he weighed up his options. “A nice little mystery for you to perplex yourself with if you care to try,” he answered, cryptic as anything before ultimately he relented “fine. But only because it means I get to ride in your fancy car.” 

He climbed into said fancy car, wincing a little at the gash in his side that twinged with the movement but as he reclined the seat a little it made it a tad more bearable. His eyes closed taking just a moment of respite inside his own mind as he heard the soft click of the driver’s door closing and shift Deirdre getting in the car and he answered her earlier question. “As for the magic I uh… can’t rightly say I know. Mostly my own creation but I know my ancestors may have tried to figure it out without much success...” Not like there was anyone left to ask. Still, he laughed quietly, shifting once more to try and ease the new batch of discomfort and not bothering with his belt.

A suspicion. Deirdre tilted her head. Some part of her teaching to be more cautious filtered through her head. Her eyes glossed over Otto, she didn’t trust him not to go off and spill her secrets; she didn’t trust anyone. It was arrogance that kept her flippant, her species being a secret she could see little reason to keep better. Who could hurt her? Not some warden, and not Otto with his experimental magic. “Where to?” She asked quietly. 

The night scene streaked past them as she drove, following Otto’s directions. For his sake, she tried to avoid the bumps in the road and any sharp turns. He hid his pain well, he hid himself well, but come reactions could not be stopped. Otto, for as much as he was a mystery, was only human. “You’re enterprising, I’ll give you that.” How dangerous was it exactly to devise your own magic? How much trouble would Otto find himself in? And, when it came down to it, would Deirdre be watching? “I wonder how long you’re last, Otto. I wonder how long you’ll think you’ll last.” She glanced over at him, bleeding against her plush leather seats.

“The docks will do,” Otto answered simply, it wasn’t too far of a walk from there and the air would do him good after tonight. Plus he’d have to go back and get his bike tomorrow but it was the least of his concerns right now. His head rested back as the lights of the town streaked past the windows and Otto observed them quietly until Deirdre spoke again and his mirthful expression returned, “would it be cliché of me to say I’m only human?” Otto was keenly aware of his mortal coil, the environments he’d lived in hardly let you forget it. “That’s a good question, I guess we’ll have to see.” Eventually the car pulled up and Otto leaned forwards catching the handle but pausing before he pulled it and got out, “well Deirdre m’darlin, tonight was a thrill. We should do it again sometime but maybe next time we can have some booze? Stop by my place when you have some time, I’ll fix us up a real fun night.” With a promise in his eye he tugged the handle swinging the door open and climbed out stiffly, his side throbbing yet the pain was masked discretely away. “Tarah love, don’t be a stranger” he winked playfully swinging the door shut and tapping the roof lightly before pivoting and swinging his way lazily back towards the warehouses in which his apartment was located.

He was human, Deirdre reminded herself. It was easy to forget that with his showmanship, with all that she’d come to learn about humans. But he was human, nonetheless. And death would catch up to him. She would catch up to him. When she leveled her blade against his neck. There might have been pity, sadness. She watched him leave, retreating into the dark where her vision could no longer follow. “Don’t die boring, Otto.” But he was too far off to hear her now.  

[onlyhereforangst]

WWR

(fair warning; thought this would be a short one & then somehow got carried away 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Couple main things learned from the Kondo subplot- 1. Nick claims he doesn’t have a lot of stuff, a tiny not even shoebox fits the things that don’t “bring him joy.” Soooo the jar is definitely bigger than that box, so it brings him joy *happy tears* AND as we see later in the ep...so does Bishop’s OK State sweatshirt 😭😭 and then 2. Bishop feels the need to get rid of a looooot & Nick is almost proud? Not even that surprised? But we’ll get into this in a second 😉

We were ROBBED of the scene of Nick wearing Ellie’s sweatshirt because Jack clearly saw it and said “we are all wondering if it’s more” so multiple people (I’m betting including Ellie because she was not shocked about Nick wearing it) saw it- WHY DIDN’T WE. I will not get over the fact that Nick took it, put it on Mr. I Wear Cashmere Sweaters, and kept it because it smells like her. Bishop & her scent on her clothes brings him 🎶jooooy 🎶

Why is them looking at each other through the nutshell so damn cute?? Like they didn’t have to gaze at each other inquisitively while bending over- but they did. It’s not like either was really looking at the contents of the nutshell, more so just each other 😩

Now on to this new Ellie stuff. The past few episodes have certainly hinted at some development in terms of anger/rage and technical skills, which we got nice clarification of at the end with that text from Odette. Clearly the training is not a new thing- Odette had placed the ball in Ellie’s court (and so did Ziva when she left saying, “Odette will be ready when you are”) aka, Ellie reached out to her a while back and is now meeting regularly with her. My best guess is after the hit&run- when she told McGee she was going to the office and then later said she went home...definitely sounds like she went to Odette’s. Imagine feeling helpless after your best friend and boyfriend you keeping denying is in a coma—the logical brain of yours knows you can’t kill him, hell you already went through every possible scenario and imagined every detail, but you know you can’t. But now suddenly your walls have come crashing down that you thought safeguarded your heart from feeling things & that passionate rage is threatening to overrule your logical side, so what do you do? Channel your rage into training yourself to being an even better agent, an even better fighter, better equipped to “save” Nick next time. This side training has given us some hot/badass AF moments like that swift kick-trip move that had me straight up screeching at my TV. If oooooonly Nick had been there to see that move, we ALL know he’d have been a hot mess trying to keep it in his pants over in the corner 🥵😂. Our boy would’ve loved to see it and then been like- wait, hold up. I didn’t teach you that, so who the hell did?? I can see Nick finding out about this training going down very interestingly. One of two ways- him being proud that she’s working on her fighting/technical skills and becoming more badass & independent OR (the more likely because boy does not trust Odette & I don’t totally blame him- I truly think that stems from worry for Ellie’s safety when it comes to a mentorship blooming there) Nick is pissed because that’s how he shows his worry for her and tries to shut her out again. Only time will tell…

Also! We’ve gotten this Ellie that wants to throw everything away- out with the old, in with the new kind of deal. And I went on about this in an ask here, but I think it stands true even after rewatching. Ellie is done being *just* the logistics analyst. She associates her previous way of life with a few major things- getting cheated on & divorced, losing two people that were extremely close to her yet despite doing her best to exact revenge on those responsible, she still likely felt like she could’ve done more- could’ve saved them if she knew more, had better skills. So along with all her past, recent triggers like Ziva’s return & departure, Nick’s near-death experience, hearing Art & Annie’s heart-breaking story, I think have pushed Ellie not only to train, but to rid herself of a lot of her past. “Simplify her life” and “evolve” to in her own way start over. Erasing bad memories and fighting to make sure the future holds good, safe memories. As I said in the ask, controlling what she can control (training with Odette & getting rid of old things that signify an “old” Ellie) when the world around her has been changing rapidly is her best way of coping. This time, when she starts “new” Ellie, it will be on her terms- the way she wants it to be.

I’m extremely excited for where this is taking her character development and hopefully progress with Nick. Here’s to hoping they truly did know about the shortened season in enough advance that we get a semi-decent (read: ELLICK FREAKING KISS) for the new 17x20 finale.

Side note: Jimmy & McGee fighting over a freaking box and then Jimmy running away with it was pure gooooold.

I probably could’ve deep-dove into the last scenes with Gibbs & Ellie even more- and I’m happy to, but I’m rushing to finish this while the baby is still napping 🙃 so just send me an ask if you want me to expand on proud dad!Gibbs & evolving!Ellie 😉

[helloalycia]

almost [three] // carol danvers

summary: It’s been a month since Carol’s return and things aren't exactly how you imagined them to be. 6 years is, after all, a long time...

warning/s: none.

author’s note: a part 3 was requested on here and on my Wattpad, so I figured why not? This is definitely the last part though lol x 

part one | part two | masterlist

I knocked on the door to Maria’s, hoping I could just spend some quality time with her, especially after everything happening lately. 

Carol had been back for almost a month now and I didn't know what I was expecting to be honest. I knew things wouldn't just go back to how they were - it had been 6 years since we’d been together and I had grown as a person. And she had, well, she was part alien now. 

I just felt like it was a really long adjustment period for us both. She was remembering many things, or so I had been told. She was distant from me, leading me to be the same with her. I wasn't sure what it was, but I couldn't make the effort to get to know the new her because I was afraid it would pressure her or push her away further. 

I just knew that it was definitely something that was occupying my mind a lot. I missed her, a lot. And I was trying my best to let us be like how we were. I mean, Maria and her were getting on wonderfully, as if nothing had changed. Monica and her were catching up like she’d only been gone a week. But it was different for us. It’s like we were trying too hard not to step on each other’s toes and I didn't like it.  

Maria’s front door opened and it was the girl who had been stuck in my brain for a while now. 

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Carol said, offering a small smile. “How are you?”

I returned the smile, though it felt forced. My brain was saying one thing - this was weird - but my heart was saying something else - she makes you feel like you did the day you first kissed. 

“I’m good, just wondering if Maria is home?”

Carol shook her head apologetically. “I’m afraid not - she took Monica to the movies.”

I sighed quietly. “Oh, okay. Well, erm, I’ll just g-”

“I’d like it if you stayed,” she blurted, before widening her eyes at her own eagerness. She glanced at her shoes as she added, “If you want to... Monica pulled out a bunch of my old stuff from before I... you know... and I’d love it if you could help me piece together the bits I can’t remember.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I watched her clear her throat awkwardly. I could see the redness appearing on her cheeks and it would have been cute if I wasn't having a mini freakout in my own mind. 

“Yeah, I can help you,” I answered, making her instantly look up with hopeful eyes.

“Really? Wow, okay, thank you.” 

I smiled with amusement as she tripped over her feet a little, to move out the way for me to get through the door. I closed the door behind me before following her through to the kitchen. I saw a bunch of photos scattered across the dining table, pouring out from an old shoebox. 

“I was just having a look at some,” she explained as we sat down beside each other. “It’s amazing, really. How much a photograph can jog your memory.”

I smiled as I picked up the nearest photo - a close-up of Monica grinning at the camera with her few teeth as a toddler. “Yeah,” I agreed. “It really is.”

“She was so cute,” Carol commented on the photo, looking over my shoulder, which made me catch my breath at how close she was. “Still is.”

I placed the photo down on the table, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Carol went back to looking at some more photos, as did I, smiling to myself as I remembered every single one. I occasionally glanced up at Carol, watching as she squinted her eyes with concentration at every photo she picked up. A smile would spread across her face as she remembered, I assumed, otherwise she would chew her lower lip and move onto the next photo. 

Eventually, after the fourth picture of not remembering and not asking me for help, I looked over her shoulder at the one she was looking at - a photo of me soaking wet looking grumpy in the garden, with a dry-clothed Carol and Monica by my side, grinning. 

“I was visiting one day when you and Monica decided to ambush me with water guns,” I explained. “You had both planned it when you saw me pulling up in the drive and next thing I knew, I was soaking wet and Maria just happened to have her camera at the ready. You were both so proud of yourselves.”

I chuckled to myself before looking at Carol curiously. She was still staring at the photo, this time with a small smile. 

“You can ask me if you don’t remember,” I continued, earning her attention. “It’s what I’m here for, right?”

She smiled appreciatively and nodded. “Right.”

We spent the next ten minutes looking through photos, this time with her actually asking me for help in remembering certain ones. She seemed to be acting less closed-off, as she even asked me other non-related questions about her old life in general. It was nice, almost like old times, despite the circumstances.

When she grabbed a photo of her, Maria, Dr. Lawson and I on the first day of meeting, I was surprised to know she remembered the context. 

“We had no idea how much fun would we would have.” Carol laughed, holding a finger over Dr. Lawson’s figure. “It was all thanks to her.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, glancing at her. “You- you remember?”

She looked up, a smile still on her lips. “Of course I do. How could I forget? It was the day we met, wasn’t it?”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah... I just didn’t think you’d remember. It was- I mean, it wasn’t really that important compared to everything else.”

Carol quirked a brow with amusement. “You’re kidding, right? That was probably the most important day of my life. And not just because I met you.”

I raised both of my eyebrows with surprise, definitely not expecting her to say that.

She widened her eyes. “Sorry, was that- that was weird, wasn’t it?”

I cleared my throat. “It’s fine, it’s-” but I didn't know what to say. I just stared at her, distracted by the golden flecks in her eyes that were sparkling in the afternoon sun shining through the window. 

It was strange, having her here before me. I still wasn't entirely used to it. I always felt like I was walking on egg shells around her, being careful as to how she would act with me. These last ten minutes and the ten second hug we had when I first saw her after so long were the only real moments we had shared. Moments where it felt like our guards were down and we were us. 

I kept her gaze, noticing her tense up a little at how close we were. I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, so I was ready to move back, but she simply closed the gap by kissing me. 

I was taken aback for a second, only to let myself fall right into it, my senses heightening as they recognised her touch. Six years later and she still sent shivers down my spine.

One hand was on my waist, pulling me closer, as the other was grasping my face gently. I didn't let go of her shirt as she moved her lips against mine. It didn't last long unfortunately, as she pulled away when she realised what she was doing. 

I saw a tear slip from her eyes and grew concerned as I watched her wipe it away. 

“Carol, are you okay?” I asked worriedly, resting a hand on her lap. 

She breathed out shakily, her eyes welling up. She tried to avoid my gaze, but I knew her well enough to know when she was hurting. 

“I’ve dreamt of you so many times,” she admitted, swallowing hard. Her voice was shaking. “I didn't know it was you, but you were always there when I closed my eyes.” She finally looked up at me with glossy eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you again, Y/N.”

It broke my heart to see her looking so vulnerable. All this time I thought she was being standoffish and she was really being aware of my feelings. 

“Carol, you never hurt me,” I was quick to reassure, moving closer to her and taking her hand in mine. I wiped away a stray tear of hers before looking her in the eyes. “You didn't do this. It happened and it was horrible and we know who was at fault and that wasn't you. It was horrible what happened, yes, but none of that was your fault. I’m sorry if... I’m sorry if I ever made you think that.”

She shook her head, hanging onto my every word. “You didn't.”

I gave her a small smile. “Good... I should have acted differently this past month. I am so lucky to have you back, Carol. We all are. It’s not every day that a girl can get her love back, is it?”

Carol smiled and I felt butterflies in my stomach. 

“The most beautiful smile,” I told her, stroking her cheek. “We can work this out, okay? We don't need to rush. We have time. Even if it means starting from scratch. I got you.”

She nodded, resting her hand on mine which was holding her face. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asked, voice tentative. 

I suppressed a smile. “What better way to seal the deal?”

She smiled and leaned in, only for me to let go of her and move back, stretching out my hand. 

“A handshake, duh,” I said, giving her a knowing look. 

Recognition crossed her features as she rolled her eyes, a grin on her face, before yanking me towards her by my shirt and pressing a kiss to my lips.

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 42

Chapter Summary - Tom gets a call off Benedict Cumberbatch, asking him to come over to the house but he is minding Lily, leading to a conversation with Ben about his role in her life, since the older actor never really spoke with him regarding the situation.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​ @winterisakiller​​ @theoneanna​​

Request if you wish to be tagged

Tom was conflicted for a moment. Rarely did Ben call on him like this, but he had specified asked him to come over but the issue was that Tom was caring for Lily while Alexianna dealt with something at work. He let Ben know he was coming and that he was not alone before he strapped Lily into her car seat.

‘Where are we going, Daddy?’

‘To my friend Ben’s house.’

‘You mean Dr Strange Ben?’

‘Exactly, Princess.’

‘Okay.’

Tom often wanted to get down on bended knees and thank whatever Gods he could think of, as well as Alexianna for the amazing daughter she had raised that was completely okay with the idea of going to an absolute stranger’s home and not having a tantrum about it. ‘He has two little boys, but they are younger than you.’

‘What are their names?’

‘Kit and Hal.’

‘Okay. Do they like Paw Patrol?’

‘I have no idea, I think they might never have heard of them.’

‘I hope they do.’

Tom got into the car and tied his belt. ‘And if they don’t?’

‘I’ll teach them.’

Tom hoped Benedict was prepared for such events.

*

When they arrived at the house, Ben looked at Tom questioningly as Lily smiled brightly beside him, but he made room for them to come in. ‘Dare I ask?’

‘Lexi is working late and you said to come immediately. I have Lily so if you want me here, you get us both.’ Tom shrugged unapologetically.

‘How long is this going on?’

‘What? I told you about me and Lexi several times?’

‘No, I knew about that, but how long are you being left alone with her daughter?’

Tom felt his jaw clench. ‘A couple of months.’

‘And you are okay with that?’

‘Yes, I offered.’ Tom’s tone became clipped.

‘Whoa, hey, I am just asking. I don’t want to see you being taken for a fool, nothing else. I swear.’ Ben stated, his hands up slightly as though surrendering. ‘Tea?’

‘Please.’ Tom walked into the kitchen where Lily had gone naturally and was standing still. ‘Princess, why don’t you take off your coat and watch the telly with the boys.’

‘Okay.’ Lily took off her coat as requested and gave it to Tom. ‘Hello again, Mr Ben.’

Tom chuckled as he looked at his friend, seeing his reaction. ‘Hello. You remember me?��

‘From the time I was bold and ran off from my Mummy and into the coffee shop and you were there and you told me not to do it again.’ She recited. ‘I remember everything.’

‘Except where you put your shoes.’ Tom chuckled again.

‘That’s the fairies fault.’

‘Oh sure. Blame them.’ Tom rolled his eyes. ‘Now, that’s...Kit is here, Hal...?’

‘Is currently having a nap. Kit, this is Lily.’

‘Go Jet-bers.’

‘Yeah, that is pretty much all you are going to get out of him.’ Ben dismissed. ‘My head is wrecked today and I know it’s bad to slot him in front of a tv but some days, you just have to.’

‘Lily is terrible for trying to steal her mum’s phone to watch some Youtube programme.’

‘That can be dangerous.’

‘Alexianna has her phone on safety settings and specifically blocked several sites, she knows how from work. Mine doesn’t have such features and is passcode protected, so Lil’s is not allowed near it.’

‘How much of an influence are you in her life now?’ Ben asked curiously.

Tom grinned back, which perturbed his friend for a moment. ‘Lily, come here for a moment, Princess.’

There was a small noise before not one, but two little set of footfalls came to them. ‘Yes, Daddy?’

On hearing the little girl call Tom such a name, Ben’s eyes widened as he looked at his friend in shock.

‘Kit is smaller than you so be careful of him and no messing around on the furniture, alright?’

Lily gave him an appalled look. ‘Why are you saying this, I never do that.’

‘I know you don’t Princess, but I wanted to let you know regardless.’

‘I am nearly five Daddy, I am going into Year One soon, I know how to behave.’ She sassed before turning and taking Kit’s hand and bringing him back into the other room. 'Come on, Kit.'

‘She’s…’

‘Sassy is what her uncle calls her.’

‘Oh, she is that.’ Ben agreed. ‘So, “Daddy”?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s that serious?’

‘Yes.’

‘What if…?’

‘We break up?’ Ben nodded. ‘I don’t know, Alexianna and I speak about it a slight bit, I don’t think she likes referencing it too often either, but the reality is, it could happen, and if it does, I will see a lot less of her, which would kill me. I love that little girl so much.’

‘But she is not yours?’

‘Why does everyone ask that?’

‘Because she looks like you. You do see that, don’t you?’

‘I never once slept with her mother before this relationship started, she is not mine, and no, I don’t see it.’

‘Well, you’re blind then. What does her father look like?’

‘Shorter than me, stockier built, blonde hair, like he could do with someone hitting him with something hard across the head.’ Tom growled.

‘Hey, that’s not like you.’

‘Well, seeing what he caused, seeing the damage he did to one of the nicest women I even had the honour of knowing, for what he did with that little girl, that in my PG version of the answer to that question.’

‘So he really did…?’

‘When Alexianna was fighting for her divorce, I met his brother. Ben, this man was the human epitome of a bottomfeeder, horrible, slimy, nasty, he...The way he referenced Lily. I mean you see her, she is...my family are insane about her, everyone loves her. She knows Kit for two minutes and he is following her around.’

‘Yes, usually his is desperate to get back into someone’s arms now.’ Ben acknowledged. Curiously, he walked over to the door and looked into the living area where the two kids were playing with some cars. ‘So her story checked out?’

‘It never changed, it has always been the same, some of what she said was specifically in the divorce papers. Sometimes she will remember something that she didn’t before, or something will remind her. She is going to counselling now, that is helping her a lot. I...Ben, I saw the one picture she found when she was moving with him in it; if you saw…’ Tom shuddered. ‘She was like a ghost, that was not the girl I knew growing up, I have seen pictures before that when you are looking at them, you can tell there is something wrong with it, but with hers...you can see her all but screaming internally to get away from it all.’

‘Fuck me.’ Ben gasped, looking around to see if the kids were close by. ‘I don’t know what to say, that’s a lot for you to take on, are you okay with all of it?’

‘I am a full grown man, I know what I am involved in.’ Tom stated.

‘You love her?’

‘I love them both. It’s not easy, there are things I have to remember. You cannot just say certain things to Lexi, she could perceive them differently and as a result, think she is being criticised personally, so it is important to remember that but overall, it’s fine.’

‘Criti...Tom, you are literally criticised online hourly, and probably her with you.’

‘Yes.’ Tom nodded. ‘She works in PR, she knows all about that, but for some reason, her brain is able to compute that those people do not know her, so their opinions are not relevant.’

‘Well, that’s something.’ Ben conceded. ‘So, the father has nothing to do with her?’

‘Nothing.’

‘That’s tough on the poor thing. She is a polite child, if not a little sassy and is well behaved. No child deserves that. Do you often have to look after her?’

‘Only when I am not busy. Lexi never expects anything from me, she is the first to remind me that she is not my obligation.’

‘That’s good. How is she about you contributing?’

‘To Lily?’ Ben nodded. ‘We nearly broke up because I bought Lily a toy and Lexi felt it was too much.’

‘How much?’

‘Twelve pounds.’

‘Jesus.’

‘Yes, so I get in trouble for paying too much on anything, though I stated, if I am being called “Daddy” and am doing the role of one, I am treated her like one too.’

‘How did that go down?’

‘We agreed to little treats, here and there.’

‘Where is she going to school?’

‘Hampstead Green.’

‘That’s a state school, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good?’

‘Better than a lot in the area.’

‘How does she feel about public schools?’

‘She went to Headington.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wow, so she is from…?’

‘Her father is big in Barclays, he divorced her mother but paid for her and her brother to go to public schools and for them to go to college.’

‘And now…’

‘She was living in a mouldy one-bed shoebox and working cleaning houses, but not now, and no, not because of me, well, getting my cousin’s apartment cheap was me, I will admit that, but her college course, her job they are all her.’

‘That was a change in lifestyle for her.’

‘She is amazing, she works so hard, she asks no one for anything. She is a good woman.’

‘I am glad you are happy, Tom. I really am.’ Ben smiled, but he noted something in Tom’s face. ‘What?’

‘Have you put Hal and Kit’s names down for a school?’

‘Of course.’

‘An independent school?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘I want to talk to Lexi about sending Lily to Hampstead Hill, but I am terrified to bring it up with her.’

‘If she thought twelve pounds for a toy was worth an argument, I don’t see how you will get her to agree to a school that expensive, it's about a grand a month.’

‘But it’s Lily’s education.’

‘I mean, I know it’s snobbery, I do, but Hal and Kit’s educations, I want them to have the best.’ Ben commented. ‘It’s not really your place either though, I mean, you shouldn’t have to pay for this.’

‘As I said to Alexianna, if I am taking on the role of a father, I am doing it right.’

‘This role does not have a contract time, you do know that. If you choose to do this, you don’t get to just stop some day. I mean, you can legally. You’re not her biological father or anything, but if you really want to do this right, you cannot just leave now, even if it did not work out for you two.’

‘I know that.’ Tom looked his friend in the eye as he spoke.

‘What caused this want to send her there, anyway?’

‘Sarah said something to me at the beginning of the relationship, how I have to choose now how I treat her and take into account what it would mean if Lexi and I have a child together, would there be a marked difference in how I would treat them.’

‘Whoa, kids? You are talking about children? After less than a year?’

‘No, but it is something to consider in the future. I mean, Alexianna and I are not there yet, I think she would have heart failure if she was to get pregnant now. She has only a year left in her course and she is talking about a permanent job with the company, taking time to have another is not on her plans right now, and being honest, I think I am the same. I took a step back to do more stuff here for a reason, to take time for me and yes, her and Lily too, to throw in a baby and everything associated with that, that would be swapping one form of full-time job for another. And for the record, you and Sophie were together for less than a year with Kit on the way and before you say "We knew each other seventeen years", I know Alexianna since I was eleven, so that is twenty-something years.’

‘Well, firstly, children of any age are a full-time job and secondly, you really are terrible at maths.’

‘There is a difference between an infant and a little girl who is able to go to the bathroom, and yes, I know I am.’

‘True, yes.’

‘So, what was so important that you called me over?’ He smiled.

‘There’s this role you have to see.’

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Suffering in Silence

Benjamin Poindexter x reader

AN: This is an answer to an anonymous request where the reader leaves and Dex thinks it’s because she’s tired of him. To anon, I really hope I did your idea justice, it was a great prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it.

Words 1.6K|Fluff & Angst

“I'm leaving.”

That's what you had said after the fight. The words were louder than any gunshot or explosion Dex had ever heard. You had thrown your hands up in the air, exasperated by him. He was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. You were a saint to put up with him for this long.

The argument hadn't started out as anything colossal, and you had had disagreements before. Usually, Dex was the root cause. He needed to have things go his way. Balance and control kept him level, and it took a minuscule amount to tip the scales.

It was Thursday, and you weren't in his apartment when he got home from work. That was the first wave to rock the boat. His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario of why you weren't where you were supposed to be. He checked his phone and was relieved to see you had contacted him, but your words soured his mood and his choking fear turned to aggravation. You had to stay overtime, and wouldn't be off from your shift until seven. You were a nurse at Sacred Saints hospital, which meant you had an inconsistent work schedule. It played havoc on Dex's nerves.

With rushed and jerky movements he paced around the apartment. He brusquely threw his coat on the floor, only to immediately pick it up and put it back in place in the closet. You would be hungry and tired when you got to his place. He wanted to order take out but doubted he'd be able to hold a reasonable conversation over the phone. His appetite was shot the moment he saw you weren't there. When he got into a mood, eating was the first thing to be forgotten. All of the plans he had made with you for tonight were ruined.

Two hours later you came in through the door, using the key he had cut for you as a birthday present. Trusting you enough with a way into his space had been a big step, and you had never abused the privilege. Your tired face was as beautiful a sight as when you dressed up to dine out, and Dex felt himself slow down enough to breathe. You looked over your shoulder at him with a smile as you deposited your bag and shoes at the door.

“I'm so glad today is almost over,” You said, rubbing a hand over your neck as you stretched. “Did you eat yet?”

“No,” said Dex.

You gave him a scolding look. “Why not? You shouldn't have waited for me, I don't want you starving yourself to wait for me.”

“Yeah well, I wasn't going to eat alone.”

“Oh c'mon, don't be grouchy,” You said.

Dex watched as you came around the kitchen counter to him, wrapping your arms around him with ease. He used to hate embraces like this, even with you. The tight and constricting motion made him want to escape. Now he was able to bring his arms down and around your waist.

“Why did you have to stay late?” He mumbled into your hair while he rested his head on top of yours.

“One of the girls called in sick, and there was no one to replace her. I didn't want the unit to be short-handed. I'm exhausted now, but the overtime pay will make up for that.”

“So you put work before me?”

Dex felt you stiffen, and then you shoved back a good distance with your hands on his shoulders. The anger in your eyes was particularly nasty. “Seriously Dex? My patients needed me there.”

He knew he was being irrational, but now that you had your back up, he felt defensive. “And I needed you here.”

You receded further, walking around to the living room to create space between you. “I'm too tired to do this now. I'm going to bed.”

“If you only came here to sleep, you should have gone back to your place,” He retorted.

“For Christ's sake, Dex,” You turned to him, fury and hurt mixed in your words. “I can't do this again. You don't want me to stay? Fine, I'm leaving.”

Your hands were up in the air, and you moved with haste to collect your things. Dex didn't try to stop you. He was paralyzed by what you had said.

“I'm leaving.”

His heart was beating rapidly and had sunk down into his throat, making it hard to breathe. He had watched you go, the door slamming behind you. It was the loudest noise you had ever caused.

Dex stood there a while longer before his body began to move on its own. His brain had shut down, and he didn't realize he was started on a path of destruction until he sent the nearest object hurtling into the wall. It was a white coffee mug. He had five more just like it, and they also met the ground in shards. He was going to be alone again, just like when Doctor Mercer had left him. His fist met a cupboard door, breaking through and smashing into the plates inside. Blood began to drip from his hand, and he let out a gasp, surprised at how red it looked against his skin.

Breathe.

“I'm leaving.”

He clenched his teeth, hissing at the sting of the water as he scrubbed at the cuts on his hand. Your voice floated through his head, boasting about the abandonment it seemed, and he scrubbed so hard that his skin started to turn red.

Balance. He needed to get to the tapes in his safe, but the distance to his room from the kitchen seemed like an excavation. He tried to run, but his legs felt like lead weights tethered to chains, and he had to drag himself against the wall to move. Since being with you, he hadn't needed to hear Doctor Mercer's words as often, and the handle of the safe had collected a thin layer of dust. The combination was burned in his brain, and he pried open the door to find the old shoebox tucked away in the back.

“I'm leaving.”

He grabbed the first tape he could, forcing it into the player while throwing the headset on. Doctor Mercer's voice started to flow in response to his younger self. They were discussing a matter that didn't seem as catastrophic as what had just occurred.

Dex didn't even make it to the bed. His butt hit the floor, and he leaned up against the wall with his eyes pinched shut. He tried to get his breathing back on track, to match it up in time with Doctor Mercer's words. The buzzing had stopped, and the strain in his body had let go. All he was left with was exhaustion and disappointment. You had done everything right, and he had still chased you away. You had told him you would be late, had cared that he had missed dinner, and had come over even though you were spent from working. After all the time he had been with you, he thought he had improved with his condition, but he was still broken.

Dex didn't know how long he was sitting on his floor. He wasn't finished with the tape when he was startled by hands clasping his face. His eyes shot open, connecting with your red ones. He'd never been so relieved to be caught off guard. Tearing the headset off, he discarded it to the side before lunging at you in desperation. You let out a small yelp of shock as your back met the carpet with him halfway on top of you.

“You came back,” He said in disbelief.

“Of course I did. I had plans of staying over here, and even you weren't going to stop me.”

He looked down at your smiling face. “But you left.”

“Because I was annoyed with you, and I thought we both needed space. I didn't just suddenly stop loving you. Did you think it was permanent?”

He gave a solemn nod. “And I couldn't blame you. You’re so good, and I did everything wrong.”

“I'm sorry,” You whispered. “If you thought that then I haven't done a very good job of communicating my commitment to you. To us.”

“No, don't apologize,” He said, helping you sit up on the floor next to him. “It's me. I'm ruined. Maybe you shouldn't have come back here.”

“Oh Dex,” You sighed. You draped yourself over his shoulders, squeezing tight. “You aren't ruined, otherwise you would be beyond help. You're just a bit broken, much like your coffee mugs at the moment. But you know, broken things can be mended and made strong again. We'll work on it together, but you can't suffer in silence.”

Talking and dealing with his problems were two things he was bad at. He would continue to try though. For you, he could.

“I should clean up,” Dex said, nodding towards the kitchen.

“No, leave it,” You urged, standing up and holding out your hand to him. “Come lie down with me. The mess will still be there tomorrow, and I can help you with it.”

The pull towards fixing the disaster he had caused was strong, but your hand, small and rough in his, was stronger. He let you lead the way, both of you still half dressed from work as you spread out on the bed. On nights like this, Dex needed you close, and he held you tight with his head resting on your chest. He could feel the rise and fall of your breaths. Your heart was steady, beating slow and calm, and he wondered how he'd managed to secure a place in it. If there was a God then he must have smiled down on him the day he met you. Dex knew he would do anything in his power to never let you leave again.

[anonymoustoddler]

I got stoned and found out some things and started writing a facebook post. And then... it turned into whatever the hell this is:

I went to NYU from 2005-2009.

Ilana Glazer.. apparently went to NYU from 2005-2009.

We graduated at the same time.

ALSO, I thought Rachel Bloom was older but NO, she was there too. And everyone seems to know her except for me.

She didn’t even go to Tisch, or study acting or writing or.. any of it. Rachel did. But all three of us sat in Yankee Stadium at the same time and listened to Hillary Clinton give our graduation speech. We had all the same opportunities and general access, the same potential for experience, exposure, connections, and a career.

And now they are there.

And my BFA’d ass is... right here.

It’s just really strange to think about that. Maybe if I had somehow done things quite differently, I’d be there instead.

Probably not, to be honest. I know I’ve never had whatever that thing is that makes certain people magnetic. I’ve never been the one to stand out in adulthood. I think, in fact, that many people find me rather dull compared to the shine of others in this field. But maybe... maybe if I’d really worked for it, for real. Maybe if I could have put everything into the work instead of most of it into all the wrong places with just a shaving of energy and effort and commitment left over.

But also. Something happened to me, back then. When I left Northview and Grand Rapids and Michigan to head for New York, I believed in my talent. I believed in myself in that way, if not much else. I knew I could do it, and do it well.

A lot of people seem to come into themselves in college. Find themselves, find their people, their passions and strengths, their future. But I think I had the opposite experience altogether. From my very first day in New York, I felt Weird. Different. Loser. Less than. Behind. Misunderstood. Shamed. Overlooked. Ignored. Doubtful. Anxious. Depressed. Afraid. Embarrassed. Hidden. Invisible.

It was a slow motion dissent into the earlier stages of where I am now. But nobody noticed. No one saw an eating disorder or depression or tremendous anxiety. No one saw severe mood instability, executive dysfunction, a strained and codependent and complicated two person family relationship. No one saw the things going on and attributed them to “She’s not ok.” It was always, “She’s immature. She’s selfish and lazy. She doesn’t WANT to grow up, so she’s keeping herself in states of dependency so she never has to try.” “She just doesn’t want any of it badly enough. If she did, she’d be doing the work to get it.”

I wonder, sometimes. If I hadn’t been sick and scared and alone, with only so much understanding at the time of what was happening to me and no understanding of what I was preparing to become; if I had real and proper help from any doctor or professor or from my mom - because I did not understand the severity of my need for help back then, and I thought my family doctor, a PA who actually really fucked up my life multiple times with her loose prescription pad and severe lack of knowledge of what she was doing, had me covered - what might I have accomplished instead of spending most of my free time in bed, balancing a part time job but barely able to take on anything else. 30 hours a week in retail plus commuting was literally everything I had in me WHEN I WAS AT MY BEST IN LIFE. When I was the closest I ever got to being a rack rate size, when I was still able to prioritize limited money spending, still eating both regularly and healthfully (as much so as I’ve ever been), still exercising simply by getting around, sleeping ok enough for the most part and generally on a more normalized schedule. I mean — I got up at 6 to be at work at 8 OFTEN. It was excruciating sometimes, but other times it was fun to get up and get ready for work. I had routines. I loved getting off the train at my SoHo stop and, depending on which line I took and how much time I had, getting my coffee at Starbucks or at Aroma, so overpriced but an entirely different experience and worth the convenience and sometimes a pastry to go along.

I’ve gotten quite entirely away from myself, but.. I was doing the best I’ve ever done or maybe will ever do. And I still could not work to pay my bills and also take voice and tap and jazz and scene study and exclusive workshops and networking events and open calls and appointment auditions and keeping up with theater and film and the business and and and.

I went to a handful of auditions in 2013 and 2014 - My Only Almost Good Years. Things were actually pretty horrible for the majority of them but it was also mostly the closest I ever got to Good in the beginning.

Regardless, I subscribed to Actors Access and I got the only real headshots I ever had taken and I submitted and submitted and submitted (not nearly as regularly or often as I should have, because I was still too scared then. I still gave a shit.) and I very occasionally got an audition. I submitted for a commercial call Under 18 girls skin care. I got called in. When the CD saw me, she told me they were only considering minors, but she wanted to keep my headshot and info anyway. I never heard from her again.

I got a call for a short film once (or was it a web series? Who knows) and even got a callback. But no part.

I did one show in those two years. Technically I guess one could argue two if you count the weird little Christmas play I did for no money right after I moved at the end of 2012, but. Aside from that... one casting. One.

In New Jersey. No pay - travel stipend included.

I was 24 years old playing a 12 year old in an aged down musical version of Three Sisters set in 1970s New Jersey. “We have to get back to Mosc- New York City!” But with generic numbers telling most of what little story there was.

And then I took an acting class, I fell and injured myself, my body wasn’t ever the same after that, and by the time my shoulder was as normal as it would ever be again, my brain was really starting to crack. I was depressed and anxious. I hated living in Brooklyn, I hated having no friends after so briefly being close with Jenn. I hated my roommate, the only man I had ever lived with before George. And no wonder. He was one of the worst people I’ve ever met, I think. The worst kind of fucked up Entitled Vaguely Wealthy White Male. He enjoyed making me upset, making me feel unsafe. He listened to me express my issues with things he did and instead of even pretending to care about living harmoniously, he laughed in my face and used every chance he could get to fuck with me for the kick of it. He was rude and weird and cold and cruel and cocky and prideful and hateful and gross and mean. He was selfish and thoughtless and manipulative. I knew he felt wrong from the moment I met him. I knew. But our third roommate was chill and relaxed and flexible, she seemed to get along with both of us enough so I thought she could and would act as a buffer if it ever came to that. I knew but I loved the apartment, and he found it and I didn’t have any friends to grab it out from under him with. I knew he was a bad guy and someone I might well have real trouble with and discomfort around, but Jenn had gone silent and enemy for reasons and in ways I will never, ever understand. One day she was my friend, and the next she was putting locks on her doors and saying I should really move out of HER apartment as soon as possible. She stopped speaking to me. She passive aggressively left disgusting messes all over the apartment. She locked the living room television in her bedroom and told some version of events in which I was the bad guy somehow to friends who we both went to school with, people I knew and liked. They in turn randomly met my coworkers and proceeded to say horrible things about me, and the only reason I even know is because one of them told me about it in the break room the next time I worked.

I knew Nick was a terrible risk in multiple ways. But I had to get out of the apartment because at the time I didn’t think it could be worse than living with Jenn, and Dan was a third who I thought would be in my corner, and the apartment was so much nicer than most of the places I had lived. I thought I could make it work. I thought that move was going to save me.

By the time my headshots were taken, I was beginning to lose feeling in my legs. I was struggling to keep treading water and starting to drown. I never got the free retouching because I never chose my final shots. I never chose because I barely submitted for auditions. I was doing on partial leave from work and doing as much physical therapy as I could afford to copays for, I was taking percocet for months and months because the pain wouldn’t go away. Something’s Wrong, I said. The Scans Look Normal, Try Taking Ibuprofen. I was home and hiding in bed more and more often. I extended my work leave and gave shifts away as much as I could. I went to therapy and a middle aged white woman with long beaded necklaces and a New Age Buddhism vibe in a shoebox office on the Upper East Side was getting tired of me and my lack of progress and consistent last minute cancellation of appointments. I went back to work and had panic attacks that kept me sobbing uncontrollably for over an hour, so many shifts spent partially alone sitting in a little room in the basement back of house, steam pumps taking up much of the space and nothing else there aside from a single office chair and a little grey table. I spent my entire hour lunch chain smoking on a stoop down the street. I smoked cigarette after cigarette, compulsively and even when I did NOT want any more. I talked more loudly and often about how bad things were, about my disorder and anxiety and depression and people liked me less and I was alone at work more. New people came on and old people left and new cliques formed and I had no friends. Work was torture and home was terrifying. I got through the summer by getting stoned on the roof so I wouldn’t have to be in the apartment in case he was home. But then one day my door knob broke and I was so terrified he would go into my room and take or break or mess with my things and the fear and panic were so real and so severe that I missed my best friend’s baby shower because I couldn’t find a locksmith on a Sunday and I couldn’t leave my room until I fixed my door knob. She was angry with me for a long time after that. We never saw each other before I moved back to Michigan. I don’t even know when we last saw each other anymore.

I could keep telling this story for hours, days. Tell every piece as I remember it straight on through 2014 and into 2015 and cancer and treatment and 2016 and George and more cancer and the worst possible conditions for a new relationship and relapse and the beginning of my current inability to function because everything was depression and exhaustion and loneliness. And on and on through five more moves and break up and emergency surgery and being thrown into the drivers seat and struggling with my mom’s health changes and selling my home and leaving everything I had for something new that was just more versions of bad. The scariest loneliest months of my life. And then the even scarier even lonelier ones after she died.

But just... just think of all that. And what if most of it had never happened?? If I’d gotten proper help a decade ago, who would I be now? Where?

Maybe I’d be there. With them.

Instead of here, alone, with nothing but memories of other times when I was also sad and life felt pointless.

I wonder what it would have been like to be there instead. I wish I knew.

[longroadstonowhere]

this is it

the final chapter of wild child

six and a half years ago, i wrote a little story with an open ending, and i thought well, maybe i’ll come back to this, who knows - i was just starting to get back into writing again, after taking several years off because nothing really inspired me to write

and then there was homestuck, and there were friends to encourage my writing, and after a while i thought, well, why not try continuing that seed of a story

six years ago this saturday, i published the second of what i thought would be six or eight chapters at most - clearly that estimate was completely wrong, haha - but i’m glad i continued this, because i’m proud of what i’ve done here

to everyone who’s read any part of this story, thank you

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 ao3)

Paul collapsed on the couch. John had stormed off through the front door after Jade had made her escape, and he couldn't blame either of them.Probably one of my worst parenting moments to date, he berated himself. Honestly I can't imagine how much worse I could have done.

Roxy settled on the couch next to him and stroked his back. "Well, that was a little bit of a shitstorm."

"Doctor!" Paul raised his head and looked at the stairs. "Your daughter -"

"Left to go find the others. They'll be fine." She sat back, tapping her hands against her thighs. Suddenly, she stood and made her way to the kitchen. "I'm going to get myself something to drink. Would you like some?"

He frowned. Early in the day for that, isn't it? He didn't voice his thought, though, just a simple "No thank you." Rubbing at his temple, he continued, "Really feel like I need to smoke, though."

She hummed in acknowledgement as she clattered around the kitchen. He heard something being poured into a glass, a pause, and then liquid splashing down the drain. He turned his head and saw the doctor filling two glasses with water. Coming back around the couch, she handed him one glass and held the other out. "To curbing vices," she proposed, with a facetious twist to her mouth.

With a matching half-smile, he tapped her glass and took a long sip. Swirling the water a little, he said mournfully, "I don't think John's ever been this angry with me, and I can't blame him. Every choice I made in this matter was the absolute worst choice I could have made. I can't expect him or Jade to ever trust me again."

"Well..." Roxy said thoughtfully. "It might be true that you could've handled things differently and it might have turned out better, but that's impossible to know for sure. Unless you have secret time travel powers?" she teased. Paul snorted out a little laugh despite himself. "No? That's sad, I could've used a new project at work. As for their trust..." Here she sighed. "I'll be honest - I've done my best for Rose, but I've done plenty I'm not proud of, either. Somehow, in spite of all my fuck-ups, she still loves me. I don't know how much she trusts me, but..." She shrugged helplessly. "All children discover their parents are human eventually. We can only hope they still love us when they get through to the other side."

Paul considered that for a moment. "I suppose... I just hoped that day wouldn't come so soon."

Roxy patted his shoulder in consolation. "From what I've seen, you've done a good job with both of them. With a little time, they'll come around."

John stomped away from their house, no goal in sight except just getting away. Dad is such an asshole! he fumed. I can't believe he kept this a secret from us for so long! I was so excited to show Jade what high school is like, and she knows the librarians so well, and what does any of it fucking matter?!? His feet kept pushing along with no interference from his brain, until he found himself near a small ostentatious building near the edge of the clearing that had been made around Rose's house. He didn't really notice the building, though. He was still too focused on mentally ripping his dad a new one. Tired of wandering at random, though, he started going around and around the little structure in a neverending circle.

"John?" Rose's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She stood some distance away, her arms crossed and one eyebrow quirked upwards. "Are you attempting to create a moat of some sort with your feet alone? I'd admire your perseverance and admittedly misguided ambition if that were the case - but I must inform you we don't often find ourselves under siege, and if we were this building would not be worth any particular attention."

"Oh, uh..." John shuffled his feet, a little embarrassed and still kinda angry at his dad. He didn't really want to unload any of that on Rose, though. "What is this thing, anyway? I don't think I've ever seen a building with pillars outside of like, City Hall."

"Well," Rose stepped forward, her hands moving to clasp behind her back, "this edifice began its life as a mausoleum for my former pet Jaspers. When he passed, my mother had this building constructed to give his mortal flesh a worthy final resting place." She smiled a little. "Then, after some self-reflection and a strongly worded letter from one of my teachers, she decided that was a little fucked up and decided to give Jaspers a more traditional burial for a simple pet - a shoebox buried beneath the flowers. Now we use this thing as a gardening shed."

"Huh. That's... really weird actually."

"That is but the tip of the weirdness manifesting itself as my mother," Rose said. "However, while I could continue to overshare emotionally scarring anecdotes from my past, I think I would serve better as an open ear than an open mouth. So," she carefully settled herself on the grass near the bizarre mausoleum-shed, "have a seat and let's, as the youths say, rap about your feelings."

John snorted without really meaning to. "You sound like a forty six year old woman trapped in a teenager's body saying that."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean by that, young man," Rose stated primly. She patted the grass beside her. "I must insist on the sitting, though. I'll strain my neck if you continue to stand while we talk, and it is simply impossible to find a good masseuse in this neck of the woods."

"Well, I wouldn't want to do something ungentlemanly like cause you grievous bodily harm," John joked as he sprawled next to Rose, his legs stretched in front of him. Once he was sitting, though, he had no idea what to say next. Rose had helped bleed some of his anger away by distracting him, but he could still feel it boiling away in his heart. "I dunno if there's much for me to say. My dad's a jerk and Jade's gonna have to leave, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Rose tilted her head slightly, like she was accepting what John said without agreeing with it. "I'm not so sure that last statement is true, but we can circle back to that. Let's talk to your father first. Does he often spring news on you like this?"

"... No. He usually tells me stuff way before it matters. He always says he wants to give me space to get used to something new, but this is like one of the hugest things that could ever happen and he just drops it all at once?" John exhaled in disgust and fell backwards, his arms stretched out above his head. "I'm already fucked up about high school and growing up, why does this have to change too?"

Rose sighed. "Change can truly be a brutal taskmaster, one with no mercy or compassion for those swept along in its wake. But, well..." Rose paused for a long time, long enough that John wondered if she was done talking entirely. He didn't feel the need to fill the silence for once, though - it felt weirdly okay to just let time pass. He watched a few wisps of cloud slowly drift across the sky. Finally Rose started to speak again. "Honestly, I generally find change to be a shitty joke played on the unprepared fools we all are, but sometimes it can be an unexpected boon. For example," she turned and gave John a surprisingly genuine smile, "though I've only known you a short time, I find both you and Jade to be quite pleasurable additions to my life, an outcome I'd certainly never have predicted in advance. So, even if all the events leading up to our meeting have been exceedingly shitty, I would deem the end result quite satisfactory."

John took a few seconds to process all those words before snorting in laughter. "Wow, that's one of the dorkiest ways I've ever heard someone say 'Let's be friends!', ahahahahaha!" He curled in on his stomach, unable to stop laughing.

Rose sniffed in disapproval. "Such boorish antics... truly it is a mystery how you have ever befriended anyone. 'Tis a riddle I should have to devote my life to unraveling, if I were so inclined to such an activity." Her words sounded kinda mean, but she didn't make any moves like she was going to walk off and just leave him there. And she'd come out to find him after he'd stormed off, which said a lot more than her words did.

Well, maybe not a lot more... John thought, considering how many words Rose generally said. But it does mean a lot, at least. John sat back up and smiled at Rose. "Thanks. I guess I kinda needed that."

She nodded graciously. "My pleasure. I've found something of a fascination for delving into the psychological depths of those around me, so it is gratifying to find a material beneficial output for my knowledge."

"Uh, sure, okay." That sounded kind of like 'you're welcome', if he didn't think about it too hard. John stood and dusted bits of grass off his shorts. Looking at the house, though, he wasn't ready to see his dad again yet. Besides, he had something very important to do. "So, where do you think the tallest tree is around here?"

Jade swung her feet in the air, her eyes sweeping over the unfamiliar horizon. Off the island for months and I still run for a tree when something's wrong, she berated herself. Growing up, climbing trees had been both fun and beneficial, since it gave her the best view of her surroundings, letting her scope out unplundered plants or useful scrap that drifted onto the beach.

Trees had also helped her escape from the beasts that had grown bold after her grandpa's death, animals that Bec could take on one at a time but could easily overwhelm him with numbers. Most of the ones who were chasing her for food couldn't climb, though, so the higher she went, the safer she was.

There weren't any beasts like that here, though - nothing that would kill her, tear her to shreds for a decent meal. She was safe here, probably the safest she'd been in her entire life.

And yet she still ran.

I'm better than this, she thought angrily. I've been around people all the time, and I didn't hurt Rob at all when he tried to fight me, and... Ugh!She fell backwards, hanging off the branch upside down. I can't believe how dumb I'm being about all this!

She sat like that for a while, letting the blood rush to her head until it started to hurt. She let it pound away, the pulsing in her head matching her anger at herself. It got so loud that she almost missed Bec's quiet warning bark - no danger but he saw something that needed her attention.

Straining, she looked down at the ground upside down and could see John at the bottom of the tree approaching Bec carefully. He stopped a few feet short and held his hand out to the dog, who padded forward and let John scratch between his ears. His light laughter drifted up the tree towards her. He gave Bec one last big scritch and looked up the tree at Jade. "Hi Jade! Cold you come down a couple branches? I wanna talk but I don't really want to shout, and these trees are harder to climb than the ones back home."

Home. That word hurt more than she thought it would. She'd gotten over the idea of having a home to belong to years ago, right? Home was about people, after all - that's what her stories had said, and all she had was Bec.

John stood quietly at the bottom of the tree, but he was shifting his weight back and forth, like he was trying to decide if he should leave or not. Finally he tightened his fists and nodded to himself before approaching the tree. He jumped and just barely caught one of the lowest branches, pulling himself up until he could straddle it. Balancing against the tree trunk, he slowly stood up on the branch and looked for the next one. He eyed one just out of reach, but before he could make a jump for that one, Jade called down, "If you're gonna be stubborn, fine, I'll climb down a little." He was super bad at climbing, after all, and dealing with a broken leg or something would just make everything even worse.

Jade casually dropped down the tree until she was a few branches above John. She settled into the nexus of several branches and waited for him to say something. He was the one who wanted to talk after all.

"So..." John said as he sat on his branch again, his legs dangling in the air. "That's some shitty news, huh? Kinda wish Dad had told us earlier, but I guess there's no good time for that kind of news. It's weird to think he could mess up like that, though. Adults aren't supposed to fuck things up."

Jade pressed her back into the tree, trying not to think about what parents should or shouldn't be like. Imagining how things could go wouldn't change what was happening.

John sighed loudly. "Wow, I suck at cheering people up. Rose is way better than me at this." He shook his head vigorously and slapped his hands to his cheeks. "Okay! Here's what I really need to say!" He looked straight at Jade, locking eyes with her. "I want you to come home with me and Dad, and I don't care what anyone says about it. You're my sister, and you belong with us, and anybody who thinks differently is gonna regret it, even if they are some hotshot lawyer with... a briefcase and... and a carphone!" He scowled at the ground, one hand on his forehead. "Wow, that last part sounded stupid, just ignore that bit. The important thing is you're my family, no matter what anyone says."

Jade froze, not sure what she should do. No one had ever made her feel important like that, not since Grandpa... No, she admitted, not even Grandpa. Before she realized it, she was dropping down towards John, grabbing him in a strong embrace when she reached his level. "Whoa - !" John flailed and nearly fell off, but Jade made sure they stayed. Once they were stabilized, John hugged her back, and they stayed like that for a long time.

Bec's soft whine, followed by some scratching noises, finally convinced Jade to pull back. She looked down through surprisingly watery eyes to see Bec pawing at the trunk of the tree. "I'm fine," she told him, a smile pulling at the side of her mouth. And she was, for once. She actually was.

Beside her, John wiped a few tears out of his eyes. "Wow... now I know how Cameron Poe must have felt when he finally gave Casey that bunny," he laughed.

Jade laughed too, and shoved at him a little. "No more lame movie references, we are having a serious moment!" John was too distracted trying to stay seated on the branch to argue. Jade let the smile drop from her mouth as she gathered her thoughts. "... Do you really think they'll make me leave you guys?"

John furrowed his brow in deep thought. "Custody can be really weird sometimes. But, you know..." John trailed off, looking around at their surroundings. "If you did have to live somewhere else, this wouldn't be the worst place probably. Rose is pretty cool, in a super nerdy way, and it does look pretty."

"I guess... but... " Jade gathered her courage. "I don't want to. I want to go... home."

John wrapped one arm around her. "Okay. That's what we'll do."

John sat on the couch, doing his best not to fidget nervously and absolutely failing on all fronts. Jade lay on the floor in front of him with Bec, the pair tussling half-heartedly over one of Bec's toys that they'd brought along. Rose sat on one of the other couches, knitting a scarf or something and looking for all the world like she didn't care about anything else besides her project.

The day before, they'd all had a real long talk about strategies and feelings and everything in between. There had been more than a few manly tears shed, as well as some hugs so tight they squeezed the air out of everyone's lungs,, but at some point all they could do was wait for the lawyer to come and discuss everything with them.

The adults were with the lawyer now in Dr. Lalonde's study, discussing the dry details of Uncle Harley's will. Rose had tried to argue that all of them should be present, but Dad thought they would run out of steam if they had to listen to the minutiae, so he'd suggested the kids come in once all the boring stuff was over. On the one hand, John couldn't really blame his dad - he could barely pay attention to his teacher's lectures, and he could understand what they were talking about for the most part.

On the other hand, that left the three of them out here with nothing to do but obsess over whatever was happening in that room.

Unable to keep still any longer, John leaped to his feet and started pacing between the couches and the stairs, carefully stepping over Jade and Bec on his way. Neither girl seemed to pay him any mind, but he knew Jade at least was probably keeping an eye on him. Probably Rose too, really. They were both scarily observant of where people were at all times. They'd probably get even scarier about it if they ended up living together.

Nope nope nope! John shook his head sharply. Jade's gonna come home where she belongs, and that's that, even if I have to kidnap her. He stopped pacing, one hand coming up to cup his chin. I'd have to drive, since I don't think we could get on an airplane without some kind of adult, and also tickets would be super expensive. Driving can't be that hard, right? I should be tall enough to reach the pedals on Dad's car, and I know where he keeps his keys. Food, though...

"Um, John?" Jade's voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to see her kneeling on the couch, looking at him in concern. "What... are you doing?"

John laughed nervously. "Oh, I was.... planning how to kidnap you?"

Behind Jade, he could see Rose shaking with suppressed laughter. Jade half-smiled, but her heart definitely wasn't in it. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head - she was just as nervous as he was, if not more, and he had no idea how to fix that.

Jade looked down the hallway towards the study. "How much longer do you think they're gonna talk?"

John shrugged helplessly. "I guess Uncle Harley had a lot of complicated stuff in his will? He was technically like a billionaire or something, since the Betty Crocker company belonged to him." He looked down the hall as well. "They could be in there for a really long time probably."

Rose set her knitting aside and confidently stood up. "Well then, I suggest we go see how they're getting on for ourselves." She came around the couches and strode past John towards the hallway. He gave Jade a quick look before following Rose, and he could hear Jade scrambling over the couch to join them.

Outside the study, Rose kneeled in front of the door, one ear pressed close. She motioned for John to be quiet as he approached. He frowned - he wasn't stomping around like an elephant or anything, and he knew better than to give away that they were eavesdropping! As proof of such intelligence, he didn't give Rose a piece of his mind then and there. Instead, he knelt next to her, pressing his own ear against the door to try and hear what was going on. Jade stayed standing and leaned over the both of them, one hand on John's shoulder to keep her balance.

The adults were talking quietly, making it difficult to hear them through the door. Okay, so maybe Rose had a good point about being silent, he thought ruefully. He had to breathe really slowly through his mouth to be quiet enough to have any chance of understanding what they were saying.

"As you can see, Mr. Harley was quite thorough in protecting the trust for Jade." That was the lawyer's voice - they'd introduced themselves to everyone before disappearing into the study with Dad and Doctor Lalonde. "And since he tied everything about access to the trust with whoever has Jade's custody..."

There was a barely audible sigh, which John recognized as coming from his dad. "Yes, I can see why you said you needed to speak with me in person. This is far more complex than I'd even imagined." A pause, with some furniture creaking that suggested his dad was moving around in some way - leaning forward maybe? "Why was he so particular about this? He must have trusted his business partners well enough, since he left them in complete control of the company while he was... gallivanting around the world."

More furniture creaks, and Dr. Lalonde said, "Jake was never very good with people - that's why he liked exploring so much, it meant he could just leave whenever he started worrying about whether he was offending someone or what have you." She laughed a little. "I think he might've left Jade to me just because he could stand being around me for at least a week at a time."

"I'd also like to note," the lawyer said, "he didn't leave his partners completely alone while he traveled. He had access to some extraordinary technology across the years - we take cell phones and their communication abilities for granted now, but fifteen or twenty years ago that instantaneous correspondence was just barely beginning to enter the public eye. Mr. Harley's island was kitted out with a whole host of machines that allowed him to check on his company far more often than one would have expected, and he could give them instructions as well. He was more hands-on than the company would lead you to believe."

The furniture creaked again, and John's dad said, "So he was still running the company from all the way out there?" His voice was getting louder and softer - it sounded like he was pacing back and forth. "He went to all those lengths, just to avoid his business colleagues while still keeping control of his company?"

"That's Jake in a nutshell, really. He had a great deal of pride in his family's company, so he couldn't let it pass from his hands while he was alive, but he couldn't stand living in the same 'humdrum reality' as the rest of us." The doctor's voice changed a little as she said those words, and Jade gripped John's shoulder a little tighter. Guess that's her Uncle Harley impression. It must be pretty good for Jade to react like that, John thought.

"Okay..." Dad still seemed to be pacing back and forth. "So he accepted his business had to pass into other hands on his death, but he wanted to provide a good future for Jade, and so he put all his wealth into this trust fund for her. Would his business partners really try to get at his wealth through Jade? I know it's quite a bit of money but -"

The lawyer interrupted. "They already have tried, and not just his business partners. Several parties have come forward inquiring about Jade's custody since they learned of her current situation. Somehow word's gotten around that Mr. Harley's fortune will not be funneled back into the company, as so many presumed it would, and regrettably some of those who made such presumptions are much less scrupulous than one would hope."

"Yeah, Jake had good reason to make his will so strong, unfortunately," the doctor said. "With what he knew, he made the best choices possible. I just wish he'd known a little more."

"It's unfortunate that he and Mother fell out of contact," John's dad sighed. "This all could have been avoided. And you're certain there's no way to accept custody of Jade without also gaining access to this trust fund?"

"No, that was one thing Mr. Harley didn't think of," the lawyer replied. "Of course, he assumed with everything else in place that Jade would go to Doctor Lalonde here, and he knew her to be in an extremely secure financial situation. As such, and because he personally knew her, Mr. Harley was certain that Jade's money would be safe in the doctor's hands."

"Yes, I wouldn't dream of touching her money myself, outside of providing for whatever lessons she desires in the future," Dad said. "But... if I try to take full custody of Jade, those vultures circling around Uncle Harley's will would try to argue that my motivation is purely financial, won't they?"

The lawyer responded, "Yes, I think it's safe to say they would certainly challenge your claim on those grounds, considering your own situation. After all, you've been holding up admirably, but even with just the quick glance you graciously allowed me, I can see that you've been struggling on that front for some time."

"What?" John said, unable to help himself. He clapped his hands over his mouth as Rose turned to glare at him. Oops.

The conversation in the study paused, and then footsteps came towards them. John and the others stepped away from the door, just in time to avoid stumbling through as John's dad opened it. He looked down at the three of them, smiling a little and shaking his head. "I suppose we should have expected you to tire of waiting for us to finish," he said. "Well, if you're going to listen, you should join us so you can speak as well." He turned back into the room and returned to the table they were all sitting around.

Rose wasted no time entering the room and claiming a chair for herself. John entered a little more cautiously, making sure Jade was right behind him. He felt sort of timid, which was a really weird feeling for him - most of the time, he jumped into a new situation too fast to feel anything more than excitement or anger or whatever. After that first rush, he usually just felt dumb about jumping in, but not timid. That was an alien thing.

He swallowed, trying to gulp down this weird feeling at the same time. "So... is that why we've been eating spaghetti all the time? Because we're poor now?"

"Oh John," his dad sighed. "We're not... yes, having another person in the house has strained our financial situation somewhat, but we're doing fine. Besides, I'll take any hardship to give you the life you deserve." He looked at Jade. "Both of you."

John glanced down at his hands, pride in his dad overwhelming his ability to say anything else. The lawyer politely cleared their throat. "That is extremely admirable, Mr. Egbert. I could only wish all parents were as devoted as you."

Dad blushed a little. "Well, it's the gentlemanly thing to do," he muttered.

Doctor Lalonde grinned. "You know, you almost sound like Jake when you say that." She sobered quickly, turning back to the lawyer. "So, as much as I hate to be all serious, did Jake leave any provisions for what would happen to Jade if I were..." Her eyes flickered to where Rose was sitting. "Let's say incapacitated?"

"You can say 'if you were dead', Mom," Rose stated, deadpan. "I'm well aware of how mortal our flesh is."

The doctor chewed her lip. "That's not the only thing I meant, Rose." Mother and daughter looked at each other, communicating something John couldn't even try to understand. Rose nodded, just a little, and seemed to relax slightly.

"In the event that you were incapable of serving as Jade's guardian," the lawyer diplomatically continued the conversation, "Mr. Harley specified that, to put it in simple terms, Jade was to be provided for in an identical way to your own daughter if at all possible. Any other contingencies specifically require your incapacitation."

"Ah, no luck there, then," she said lightly. "It was a long shot, anyway."

"Um..." Jade raised her hand a little. Where'd she pick that up from? John wondered - she obviously hadn't attended any real classes yet, but maybe she'd marathoned some school show and hadn't told them about it. "Can I say something?"

"Of course! This is your future, after all," the lawyer stated.

"Right, okay." Jade took a deep breath, in and out. "So, Grandpa wanted Doctor Lalonde to be my guardian, and made it really really complicated for anyone else to get the job because of this money he set aside for me, right?"

John's dad nodded. "That is a good summary of the situation, yes."

"So, um... is it possible for both you and the doctor to be my guardians?" Jade asked, looking at each of the adults.

The lawyer leaned back, stroking their chin. "Partial custody.... you know, I think that could actually work. I'll have to discuss it with my colleagues who are more versed in these things, but that should satisfy Mr. Harley's conditions regarding Doctor Lalonde as Jade's guardian, as well as allow her to spend most of her time living with the Egberts." They looked at the doctor. "I'm fairly certain you would have to host Jade for some significant period of time, though, or else you could be challenged on whether you were acting in good faith as her guardian."

Doctor Lalonde grinned. "How about... oh, say, six weeks every summer?" She turned to John and his dad. "I'd be more than happy to house the two of you, as well. It wouldn't be the same without everyone here."

Dad smiled wide, exuberant joy pouring out from his face. "That sounds absolutely perfect, Roxy. I would be more than happy to accept those terms."

"So... that works? I get to stay with John and Mr. Egbert?" Jade asked, like she had to hear someone say it straight out before she could believe it. Honestly, John couldn't blame her - he felt the same way.

The lawyer smiled. "As I see it, you get to stay with your family."

John whooped in joy and tackled Jade to the ground. "You get to stay!" he shouted - he was so happy, he wanted the whole world to know why.

Jade laughed and hugged him back. No matter what came next, John would remember this as one of the best moments in his entire life.

[goloveyaself]

The Call

The Call

Camera One: Picture a woman, maybe 65 years old. She has MS, gets around with a walker. The bathrooms in her very old house are the size of shoeboxes; very tough to get in and out of if you’re larger than a 12 year old boy or have a walker. She is and does. Now this woman, because she’s sick, (and because she’s sick, she feels much older than 65), she has to go to the bathroom frequently. Like a lot. And going to the bathroom is a very time-consuming activity; struggling to first get to the bathroom, then struggling to get inside the bathroom door with her walker. Then there’s the getting the pants down, or the dress up, or whatever while holding onto the walker so that she doesn’t fall. Eventually, after what may be almost an hour, she gets to plop her exhausted body onto the toilet, knowing that when she’s done, she will have to reverse the whole process to get out of the bathroom and back to her chair in the living room (which may as well be 100 miles and 2 weeks away). She will likely repeat this process three or four times before her day is done.

Camera Two: Picture a woman, maybe 37 years old, pacing around her kitchen, a loaded handgun on the table. She’s wearing nothing but a pair of men’s boxer shorts; likely her ex-lover’s. Ah, her ex-lover, he has broken her heart. She is devastated by the loss of him. She helped him move out; thought she was was the bigger one. Truly believed that it would help their relationship, if he had some independence, the chance to find his own way. He had moved in with her when he was only 25; from his Mom to her. Now he was restless; acting cold, detached. She thought she could rise above, help him. They looked at apartments together; her  always feeling that growing, gnawing anxiety in the pit of her stomach, the middle of her chest. But no, this would work. He would miss her so much; he would see what he had with her and he would want it back. She would help him; always help him. It seemed like the best thing. Until it wasn’t. Until Jennifer with her monstrous tits and stupid smile. She wasn’t even out of college yet. And she would drive his BMW, the same car that the woman drove almost every day when they were together. The woman would be getting morning coffee at Dunkin Donuts, and monster tits would pull in in the BMW. It wasn’t her car. And she would stupidly say hello to this woman, the one whose soul mate she was sleeping with, doing the things they used to do together in the bedroom and it made the woman sick to her stomach to think these things; the video tape rolling inside her burning brain. Ugh. She was driving his car. And she would say hello and the woman would want to jack her up onto the wall by her stupid neck and tell her…….it’s not your car…...he’s not your man. Instead she would just stare at her and hope that she might die on the spot, there in Dunkin Donuts while holding her medium regular extra fucking sweet.

Camera One: MS is a miserable thing, and this woman feels so alone, isolated even. Her children grown, her cheating husband long dead from a sudden heart attack. He lived long enough to get over all of his philandering ways, and just as he was becoming the husband she had always wanted, he dropped dead. So now she doesn’t remember his cheating and lying. She has forgotten his mean streak and sharp tongue that used to cut her to the quick at a moment's notice. She only remembers the love….”Oh, your Father and I were very much in love” she would say to her daughters. The younger one would always try to remind her... “Mom, he was a prick” she would say. But no, her mother wouldn't have it, she wouldn't hear it. They were in love, and he had been a wonderful man. So now she needs to get out of the bathroom, this sick and tired woman who is all alone in this big house. She is struggling to get out of the bathroom, knowing that in another few hours (if she can wait that long) she will need to get into this bathroom again. The doctor’s told her….drink lots of water, and she comes from that generation of people who believe every single thing that people in “authority” tell them. If the police, or the President, or the boss, or the doctor (or your cheating husband) says it, then it’s true. So she drinks copious amounts of water, maybe hoping it might cure her of this wasting disease she has acquired. This wasting  disease of the broken-hearted. And this makes the bathroom a place that she must visit often. And she’s sweating and tugging at her clothes, trying to get them back into place. The bathroom door is so narrow; she drags herself along with the walker; this life is hell for her. Sometimes she just wishes she would die in her sleep to end this misery; each day blurring into the next with the bathroom being her focus. Like a full time job; never a break from it; no time off. She makes it back to the living room drenched in sweat. Falling back into her chair, she drops into the restless sleep of exhaustion.

Camera Two: The younger woman continues to pace the kitchen. She sits at the table and spins the gun around in circles like playing spin the bottle, except she’s the only player and the only kiss coming her way is a bullet searing through her tortured brain. She picks the gun up and holds it to her temple. She’s suffering, her guts feel like exploding with this pain that has no relief. How could he do this to her? How will she ever get over this; he said he loved her; she believed it could never end. Soul mates. Forever. Together. She puts the gun down and rises from the table, walks into the bedroom. She sees the bed where they used to sleep spooned up against each other; where they used to make explosive love, melting into each other, disappearing into each other as though they were one person. Is he doing that with the girl with the huge tits now? Does he feel that way with her? Can she possibly bring him to that place, that spiritual oneness that they shared. Oh...My...God. The pain is  unbearable. Yes, she’s been hurt before, but never like this. He was supposed to be “the one”. She’s out of her mind with grief, the empty space where his love used to be growing larger and darker, about to consume her; swallow her whole. She goes back to the table, picks up the gun. Holds it to her temple, puts it into her mouth and wraps her lips around the barrel. She’s sobbing uncontrollably. Just pull the trigger; PULL IT! It will be so fast, she knows she won’t even feel it. BANG! Lights out; pain over.

Camera One: The woman wakes up from her short sleep; this short respite from the drudgery of her life of back and forth to the bathroom. The doctor’s won’t just give her a catheter and bag. She’d like one, but they want her up and about, walking as much as possible. They know that if they catheterized her she would sit in her chair and rot from lack of desire to live.. She doesn’t want to live without him. She doesn't know how to live without him. The night he died, and she returned from the funeral home, she said to her daughter, her youngest daughter…”well, now when he doesn’t come home, at least I’ll know where he is”. She said that. And her daughter told her “Mom, maybe God is giving you the chance for a whole new life”. She was only 51 then. Still young; still pretty. She could have started over, had a second chance. But she couldn’t do it; couldn’t live without him. “We were so in love, your Father and I” she would say. And this was true for her; the way she had chosen to remember it. And it would make her daughter sick, because she saw it, she was there for it, and she knew that it wasn't true. So now the woman is awake, and she has to go to the bathroom again. And she just wants to cry, because this is what her life has come to. And she thinks….”he would never have stayed with me like this; he would never have loved me like this”. And she begins the long journey to the bathroom, again, the long miserable struggle, for the third time today, and it is only just past noon. She thinks what she wouldn’t give for a pair of legs that work, and eyes that see clearly, and to walk without the help of a walker. She remembers when she could do that; when she was young, her body strong and healthy. What she wouldn’t give…..Please God, just let me die in my sleep, she thinks.

Camera Two: She can’t take another minute of this suffering; her world has fallen apart. What's the point in living? She picks up the gun again, opens the chamber to make sure the bullets are there. No turning back. She can pull the trigger and be done. No chance for this to happen to her ever again. No more pain and suffering. She puts the gun against her temple, she puts it back on the table. She crawls onto the kitchen floor and sobs, rolling around, writhing in this heartbreak; sick of herself, sick of the pain, sick of it all. She gets up and grabs the phone. Someone…. someone has to help her, make this pain stop, someone has to answer the phone. She calls a friend; no answer. Fuck! She calls her Sister; no answer. It’s meant to be that she dies today; no one is out there to help her. HELP ME she screams inside her head. She gets off the floor and returns to the table, picks up the gun.. she puts it in her mouth again; one shot, take out the brainstem. Done. Over. Her finger squeezes the trigger just a little. Her hand is trembling. She puts the gun down; picks it up again. Into her mouth, another squeeze on the trigger. She's scared; FUCK! SOMEONE HAS TO HELP ME; PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME! She puts the gun down and grabs the phone, tears running down her face; snot running out of her nose. She doesn’t care anymore; who fucking cares???? She dials her Mother; her Mother answers the phone. She cries into the phone “Mom, please, please help me….I’ve got a loaded gun, Mom, in my mouth...she’s blathering, barely making sense….”a  loaded gun, Mom, I can’t take the pain, can’t take it anymore, please”......

Her Mother’s voice breaks through her tears, interrupts her begging and crying and says simply to her, to this young woman who is putting a gun to her head, sticking a gun in her mouth, her Mother, her poor, sick, sweet Mother says….”Can you please call me back, I’m in the bathroom”.

The woman looks at the phone, her crying stops. She suddenly feels calm. She hesitates, thinks for a minute, then says…”sure Mom, I’ll call you back”. She puts the phone down on the table. She stares at the gun; she looks back at the phone. She gets up from the table, taking the gun with her. She calmly walks into the bedroom and puts the gun back in the case under the chair. She stands silent in the middle of the room. She thinks she’ll just take a shower now, get dressed, and get on with her day.

Camera One: A Mother, miserable and suffering in the tiny bathroom, all alone in her old house, just trying to get through another miserable day, and as she pulls herself up from the toilet once again, sweating and struggling; she doesn’t even know, that in her struggle, in her misery, she has just saved her daughter’s life.

[felthief]

all of them

CODIE LMAO I’M GONNA PUT PEANUT BUTTER IN YOUR SHOES

anyways phew here goes

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Definitely Spotify

is your room messy or clean? Usually it’s fairly clean, not spotless or anything, but i never let it get too dirty.

what color are your eyes? Brown

do you like your name? why? I literally hate my name, it doesn’t fit me at all. ;(

what is your relationship status? Taken :U

describe your personality in 3 words or less Tired, Objective, Worry-wart

what color hair do you have? Brown

what kind of car do you drive? color? lmao i can’t drive 8)

where do you shop? Walmart mostly

how would you describe your style? Comfortable – I wear pajamas and t shirts a lot.

favorite social media account this one?? i guess

what size bed do you have? A Queen :3c

any siblings? I have an older half brother, an older half sister, a twin sister, and a little brother

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? Honestly I would probably pick any big city that’s LGBT friendly. I can’t live in a rural setting or i’ll die

favorite snapchat filter? they change all the time, i just like looking at the new ones

favorite makeup brand(s) i don’t wear makeup

how many times a week do you shower? Three, usually

favorite tv show? UUUH. Stranger Things. 8) Or Voltron. Fcuk. I can’t pick.

shoe size? 6…:(

how tall are you? 5′6″

sandals or sneakers? Sneakers, I’m a clumsy fuck so i gotta protect my toes

do you go to the gym? can’t afford that shit

describe your dream date *ALARM NOISES*

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? Uhhh I have a 15$ walmart gift card and a 5$ starbucks gift card and that is literally it

what color socks are you wearing? I ain’t wearing socks, my feet are naked and free AS THEY SHOULD BE

how many pillows do you sleep with? Two. I used to sleep with three but I’ve had to suck it up and stop that cuz it was killing my neck. Now I just hug the 3rd one at night

do you have a job? what do you do? I am a comic artist which is kind of a job? 

how many friends do you have? Uhhh..so many.. I just never talk to them becuase I’m a shit and don’t know how to maintain relationships

whats the worst thing you have ever done? I cut a friend out of my life and blocked her on everything because she was manipulating the fuck out of me and tbh to this day i still feel guilty but I think I’m better off

whats your favorite candle scent? Oh man. Danna has this candle that’s called like peach Bellini and I want to rub the wax all over my naked body

3 favorite boy names Oliver, Aiden, Zieke

3 favorite girl names Jade, Aria, Victoria

favorite actor? Thomas Dekker 

favorite actress? Abigail Breslin

who is your celebrity crush? I don’t really have one tbh though I DID have a huge crush on Thomas Dekker until I was like 20

favorite movie? PACIFIC RIM

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Hell i haven’t read in years, but I loved The False Prince (I’m reading the sequel now)

money or brains? what is the context? If it’s in dating then usually I would choose neither cuz money isn’t important beyond being able to live semi-comfortably and brains isn’t something I look for cuz I’m dumb as shit and don’t like it when I’m around people who make me intimately aware of it

do you have a nickname? what is it? I have. So many. 8) Lucifer, Lucifene, Lou, Lee, Lucinfeff, Lucinfeffer and that’s really just the tip of the fucking iceberg

how many times have you been to the hospital? at least 10

top 10 favorite songs pretty much anything by Motion City Soundtrack, Issues, Carlie Rae Jepsen, or Troye Sivan tbh

do you take any medications daily? Antidepressants and Anti-anxiety medications

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) Oily as sin

what is your biggest fear? Being alone

how many kids do you want? I want one. Sometimes. Other times I want none. I feel like I will regret not having one when I’m too old to consider it any more.

whats your go to hair style? Cropped I guess? It’s usually about ¾ of an inch long

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) A small apartment with a weird layout and a kitchen the size of a shoebox

who is your role model? i aint got one of those

what was the last compliment you received? An older lady I go to group therapy said I look like a cute boyfriend she had when she was younger

what was the last text you sent? I texted my dad telling him his tracfone was going straight to voicemail

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? Probably around 10, I don’t really remember

what is your dream car? i don’t know anything about cars :D Something modern and colorful with lots of room inside and gets good gas mileage

opinion on smoking? You shouldn’t do it and I’m a hypocrite

do you go to college? I used to but it was too expensive

what is your dream job? Something low-impact where I don’t have to talk to a lot of people. Data Entry I guess?

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Suburbs for sure I would die out in the country

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? hell yeah I do

do you have freckles? I have some, up by my eyes, but they don’t show much unless I get some sun

do you smile for pictures? Sometimes :U

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 174

have you ever peed in the woods? Nah

do you still watch cartoons? Yep. All the time. Why not?

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? MCDONALDS FOR SURE I WOULD DIE FOR THOSE CRISPY GOLD NUGGETS

Favorite dipping sauce? Sweet n Sour

what do you wear to bed? Underwear and a T-shirt

have you ever won a spelling bee? I’ve never even been in a spellin bee

what are your hobbies? Drawing and sleeping

can you draw? yes

do you play an instrument? I used to play the Flute in middle school band until my bandmates stole it and hid it so I’d get kicked out. They told me to leave and I wouldn’t so I guess they took matters into their own hands ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what was the last concert you saw? I’ve never been to a concert, that shit’s for rich people

tea or coffee? Coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? I’ve never had Dunkin Donuts so I guess Starbucks

do you want to get married? no lmfao why would I saddle someone with my shit credit score and $50k of debt

what is your crush’s first and last initial? what is this crush shit u talkin bout

are you going to change your last name when you get married? i aint gettin married, damn

what color looks best on you? red? blue? black? i dunno man

do you miss anyone right now? a few people yeh

do you sleep with your door open or closed? Both

do you believe in ghosts? I have seen some shit so I’m gonna go with yes

what is your biggest pet peeve? loud chewing noises

last person you called I tried to call a hospital in Indianapolis but it went to voicemail B(

favorite ice cream flavor? Vanilla cuz I’m a boring fuck

regular oreos or golden oreos? I don’t actually like Oreos 

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Sprinkles are fucking awful and I will never consume them

what shirt are you wearing? It’s a black t-shirt with a dripping poisonous looking smiley face on it

what is your phone background? It’s just the background that came with my theme. It’s dark blue and futuristic lookin

are you outgoing or shy? Shy as fuck

do you like it when people play with your hair? i barely have hair but Yessss touch my fucking head and I am yours to command for eternity

do you like your neighbors? i don’t have any neighbors

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? I wash it in the morning sometimes if it’s visibly oily

have you ever been high? a few times yeah. Not really my thing tbh

have you ever been drunk? Also a few times and boy howdy I have a good time but everyone else has recommended I maybe don’t do it

last thing you ate? Some bread

favorite lyrics right now nnnnnnnnah

summer or winter? Summer

day or night? Day 

dark, milk, or white chocolate? Milk chocolate if i had to pick one

favorite month? OCTOBER cuz its my birthday and also spooky

what is your zodiac sign all of em

who was the last person you cried in front of? probably faewild lmao

[nobody-wants-ice-cream]

The Umbrella Academy in: The Triwizard Tournament- Chapter 3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340549/chapters/51206206#workskin

After dinner, Vanya decided to finish her transfiguration essay and get to bed early. The day had been intense for her. It felt like she was standing in the middle of a tornado that picked up pieces of paper reading “Anger”, “Sadness”, “Happiness”, and “Awe”, amongst others. She felt these emotions strongly and then they were gone. It was the most overwhelmed Vanya had felt, ever.  Needless to say, she was holding back a lot of tears that day.

“Seven! Seven!” It was a little girl. She must have been about five years old. Her backpack had a little tag saying it belonged to Number Seven-Hundred.

“Hey Seven-Hundred!” Vanya plastered on the fake smile she used around her student’s parents. It didn’t feel as forced as she remembered it used to be when she was talking to Little Becky’s mom, Karen, all about how her daughter was progressing on her scales but could use more practice.

“Seven! I practiced my bow hold, see!” Seven Hundred held out a pencil the way that a beginner holds a bow. It was decent, but...

“Remember to angle your hand towards the violin,” Vanya corrected.

Seven Hundred shifted her hand so her fingers were angled to her left. Now her bow hold looked good, especially for her age.

“Very good!” Vanya praised.

“I gotta go, Seven! See you at breakfast!” Seven-Hundred gave her a large, toothy grin and ran towards the English hallway.

Vanya brushed her teeth and then sat at her desk with the essay for a few minutes. At least we get to use pens , Vanya thought. She remembered thinking that the feather quills were barbaric when she read the first book after Ben died. She didn’t remember how she justified it to herself, but she remembered wanting to feel closer to Ben.

Vanya all of a sudden felt very upset about Ben’s death. I just saw him an hour ago, what the hell, brain! Vanya was just not winning in the emotions department today.

Think of the devil, there was a knock on her door.

“Hey, Vanya, can I come in?” Ben’s voice sounded muffled behind the door.

“Yeah come in, what’s up?” Vanya schooled her face and tried to make her voice sound as normal as possible.

“Can you help me with this transfiguration essay? I just don’t get how the properties of the twig become metal without the entire thing exploding? Isn’t this just a more complicated version of the first year match to needle spell?” Ben was either ignorant of, or politely ignoring, her inner turmoil.

“Oh yeah, sure. I found this book under my bed, it was really helpful with explaining the basics.” Vanya handed him a thin, leather-bound book called A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch.

There was another knock on the door.

“Children, you should be headed to bed. You’ll have to wake up very early to catch your international portkey.” Mom said. She was standing in the doorway that Ben didn’t bother to close when he entered.

“In a minute, Mom,” Ben replied.

Mom’s face took on an interesting expression but she didn’t comment. Whatever was going through her head was unreachable to Vanya. She could barely figure out her own head, let alone a robot’s.

“Okay, but not a moment longer… goodnight Six, goodnight Seven. …I love you.” She seemed hesitant.

“Goodnight Mom. Love you too,” Vanya replied.

“Love you too, Mom,” Ben spoke over her. Their sentences were a jumble of words.

Mom’s face was completely unreadable. She left the doorway and shut the door behind her.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Vanya launched herself at Ben and wrapped him in the biggest hug she could remember giving in her entire life. Ben stumbled back but after a second, he reached his arms around her as well. They stayed like that for nearly 30 seconds.

“I really missed you, Ben,” Vanya said while pulling away.

Ben smiled at her, “I missed you, too. All of you. It was… strange only being able to talk to Klaus.”

“At least you had each other.”

“Yeah-,”

Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by Five teleporting into her bedroom.

“You guys should get some sleep. I can hear you across the hall- oof.”

Ben enveloped him into a hug and somehow pulled her into it. This is a lot of hugs for one day—no—for one year. Vanya was confused but wasn’t really complaining.

“We should go to sleep. Goodnight Five, goodnight Vanya.” Ben left the room with the transfiguration book and glossy eyes only to be frogmarched back in by Klaus and Diego. Ben looked particularly displeased to be manhandled, but he let it happen. Is my room now the meeting place for everyone? This is getting obnoxious, Vanya thought while raising her eyebrows. She wondered how they managed to get all the way up to her room.

Luther and Allison walked in right after Diego, Klaus, and Ben. “What is this, a party in Vanya’s room? What’s going on?” Five asked while shuffling around to make more room in the now crowded space. Vanya’s room wasn’t as small as the shoebox she had in her childhood, but it wasn’t as big as Five or Allison’s rooms.

“Right. Um… we need to talk about how much of the whole story we remember. Of Harry Potter... Because I read the whole thing, and I know Ben did too, but we need to put together the plot. Mom said something about the Quidditch World Cup, which I know is a detail from the fourth book, but I don’t really remember the plot of that book so well, so…,” Luther was hunching forward in a way that looked unnatural in his 16 year old body. Vanya remembered 16 year old Luther as a confident and proud boy. His hunched shoulders and crossed arms were a huge deviation from the boy Vanya remembered scolding her for a too-low sock or crooked tie.

“That makes sense.” Ben was looking directly at Klaus, “and establishing what we know will be helpful. We can also pool knowledge and decide how we’re going to approach any changes we may decide to make. If I remember correctly, this is the one where Voldemort comes back from the dead, right? That’s not good. Klaus, can you- oops.” He must have forgotten that he was alive for a second.

“Ben, it might not be a good idea to make any changes. The Commission could notice that and decide to… terminate the cause of the changes to the timeline,” Five said. His eyes were shifting around and he was rubbing the skin of his inner right forearm.

“What’s The Commission?” Vanya turned her head to look at Five. She must have missed so much.

“They were the organization I was with. They sent the masked people, Hazel and Cha-Cha, to attack the house. They kill people when the timeline is out of order.”

Vanya blinked. She took in a breath and then said, “So I guess we should start at the beginning, Harry’s parents are killed by Voldemort, and then he’s sent to live with his Aunt. Her husband, her, and their son Dudley lock Harry in a cupboard for his childhood-” there was a collective wince “-and then that changes when Harry gets his Hogwarts letter. He meets Ron and Hermione, gets on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and then burns a teacher because Voldemort was possessing him and trying to get at the Sorcerers Stone. That’s basically book one.” She was sure she was leaving a few things out, but it had been so long, and the story didn’t really stick with her.

“Oh. Um, I saw the second movie a while back with Eu-E- with a friend. He spends summer at Ron’s house. Ron’s dad is this almost bald dude that asks Harry about rubber ducks. Harry kills this massive snake with a sword,” Diego kept it short.

“Yeah, that’s basically it. What a strange detail for you to remember. In book three, there’s this werewolf teacher that’s a good guy and Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black, that escapes Azkaban, the wizard prison, and tries to kill Ron’s pet rat. He’s actually a good guy. Ron’s rat, Peter Pettigrew, is the real bad guy. He sold out Harry’s parents to Voldemort. Harry makes a patronus to save him and his godfather from a bunch of Dementors. Those things are depression personified,” Allison picked up.

“The fourth book, we went over. Harry is placed in the Triwizard Tournament against his will. He wins, and Voldemort comes back-”

“Yeah, we get it, Luther. Let’s move on to the next one.” Diego was always impatient, especially when Luther was talking. Diego began fiddling around with a knife.

“The fifth book was all about Voldemort getting the prophecy from the Ministry of Magic, that’s the magical government. The Death Eaters, Voldemort’s minions, battle Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few of their other friends. Then they battle against those kids and the Order of the Phoenix, which is the good guy army. Sirius gets killed and then Dumbledore, the headmaster, tells Harry about the prophecy.” Ben took a breath, “the prophecy basically says that Harry must kill Voldemort, or vice-versa.”

“I don’t think we need to go any further. That should be good for when we are. If we’re still here, we should go over it more. Good talk, I’m going to bed.” Five jumped out of the room. Vanya didn’t hear him reappear in his bedroom across the hall.

“Alright, um- ‘night.” Luther left and slowly the rest followed. She took her turn in the shower, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and then drifted off to sleep, quicker than she thought she would.

“Goodnight, Five. Goodnight, Ben.” Vanya said to her empty room. Only this time, she wasn’t saying goodnight to a memory and a ghost.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Good thing she fell asleep so soon, because way too early, she was greeted with the sound of Five teleporting into her room again.

“Wha-” she said, eloquently.

“Wake up. We have an hour to pack and leave. Don’t forget your wand!” Five whispered at her before teleporting away.

Vanya looked at the clock. It was only 11pm. She groaned and got out of bed to grab her toothbrush, despite her body’s strong protests.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

With almost 10 minutes to spare, a record for her siblings, they all managed to get to the kitchen on time. Mom placed a rusty spoon in the middle of their table.

“In 9 minutes and 20 seconds, you all need to grab that spoon and not let go. This will lead you to the campsite. Now eat your breakfast, quickly.” The tables then magically filled with food. This was slowly becoming normal to Vanya. She picked up her spoon and dug into a very small breakfast consisting of oatmeal and, in her opinion, sadness. She glumly took a spoonful of it. So much for the eggs from yesterday.

After the seven of them choked down the oatmeal that haunted them from childhood, mixed heavily with sips of orange juice or water, the portkey began to glow an ominous shade of blue. It was like Five’s powers, but darker. Five immediately looked distrustfully at it, but lacking other options, he grabbed the spoon, along with their tent and their wallet. Vanya followed suit, and so did everyone else.

It felt like a mistake.  

The world twisted and garbled around her. She closed her eyes to combat the vertigo.

Then she was on the ground. The smell of grass filled her nostrils and she finally dared to look up. Clearly, her siblings fared about as well as she did. Even Five looked a little worse for wear.

“Jesus, is that what your jumps feel like, Five? How can you do that all day?” Diego griped. He was pulling Klaus off the ground.

“No. No. My jumps are not- That felt very… wrong.” Five looked as nauseous as Vanya felt. His jumps must be very different to magical transportation.

There were two tired men wearing the most ridiculous clothes Vanya had ever seen anyone wear. One of them had a large feather quill and a roll of parchment in his hands and the other was carrying a gaudy pocket watch. The man with the quill and parchment wore a kilt and poncho, while the guy with a watch wore thigh-high rain boots with his tweed suit.

“Six past Five from The City. Let me find your campsite… Hargreeves…” As the kilted man talked, there was another blast of light.

Eight people scattered around and slammed into the ground. Vanya nearly snorted. The seven of them must have looked ridiculous. Three other people landed relatively gracefully. There were eleven people total. Their number does not matter, but what does matter is that this was the party, “Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill.”

These were the Weasleys and the Diggorys. Vanya looked at Ben, who was closest to her. His eyes widened and he shuffled closer to Klaus. Vanya snuck a peek at Harry Potter himself who was slowly trying to disentangle himself from a gangly red headed boy that must be Ron Weasley.

“Morning, Basil,” a man with thinning, red hair said to the man with a kilt. He has to be Arthur Weasley , Vanya thought. Arthur Weasley handed Basil a used boot that he must have used as a portkey. She heard a shuffle and then Diego handed Basil the portkey they used.

“Hello there, Arthur,” Basil sounded very tired. “Not on duty, eh? It’s all right for some… We’ve been here all night… You and this group better get out of the way, we’ve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I’ll find the campsites… Weasley and Hargreeves,” Basil nodded at their group, “You lot are about a quarter of a mile’s walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager’s called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Pane.”

“Thanks, Basil,” said Mr. Weasley. He made a motion with his head for his children, Harry, and Hermione to follow him. Vanya shrugged her shoulders and began to follow him as well. Her siblings followed her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before. Hargreeves, did you say?” A man who could only be Amos Diggory asked Five.

“We’re American,” Five answered bluntly. Of all the people that Diggory could have picked to interact with from their group, he had to pick the most socially inept. Then again, they were all really bad at social interaction.

“Right. Great scot! You must be the Umbrella Academy! Those seven super children. You have quite the following in the Daily Prophet, you know,” Diggory got very excited. Vanya liked him less the more he talked all about their various missions he remembered from the newspaper. Why are we featured in a British newspaper anyway? Vanya wondered.

Klaus and Ben looked very uncomfortable. Luther and Diego were masking their feelings with hard expressions that worked better when they were wearing domino masks. Five was giving a sarcastic smile and Allison looked like she was in her element. Vanya herself wished the ground would swallow her whole. She hadn’t realized how uncomfortable people yammering on about her own achievements could be.

Vanya noticed that Harry had a look of relief on his face. He must be glad to not be the only famous kid wizard in the room .

Once they said goodbye to the Diggorys (Vanya could have sworn that Diego muttered “Good Riddance”), they followed the Weasleys to a cottage door. Five got their money out of their wallet.

“One tent, booked about a week ago?” Five said politely. His face was blank, but his tone was normal.

“Alright. Paying now?”

“Yeah. Here. Thanks.” Five paid by handing him the crisp notes in a way that their fingers would never touch. Mr. Roberts handed them a map of the campsite. They almost left until they heard Mr. Weasley struggling to do the same.

Harry was trying to help Mr. Weasley with the money and was glancing nervously at them and at Mr. Roberts. Vanya threw him a sympathetic look. Harry smiled a tight grimace back at her.

Then Mr. Roberts made the mistake of telling Mr. Weasley all about the strange things he had seen while surrounded by wizards. Vanya was deeply disturbed when a wizard popped out of thin air and said sharply, “ Obliviate!”

Mr. Roberts looked like he had been rumored. His eyes didn’t turn a silver-grey, but they did slide out of focus. Allison looked down at her feet. Vanya grabbed her hand.

They unanimously decided to let the Weasleys walk in front of them.

“I… That…” Allison was deeply disturbed and uncomfortable.

“Its alright Allison. You’re getting better,” Luther said gently. He held her other arm.

Five lead the way from the cottage to a small sign jammed into the ground saying “Hargreeves”. It was conveniently next to the sign reading “Weezly”. Was this intentionally misspelled in the book? Vanya wished desperately for a copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire , not only to check, but also to find out what was going to happen next.

The Weasleys were sort of standing around while Harry and Hermione struggled to pitch two tents.

“Allison, Klaus, could you guys go get the water? Ben, Diego, and I will have a look around while Five and Vanya pitch the tent?” Luther ended his statement with an upwards inflection to indicate a question. Five gave everyone ten galleons from the wallet. Allison and Klaus went off to look for a bucket while Ben, Diego, and Luther went to search the campsite for exits in the other direction. Five and Vanya stayed behind and between the two of them, they made quick work of their tent.

Dad used to drop them off in the woods with a tent and a flashlight. All seven of them did this for survival training. Vanya always loved it because it was the one bit of training she was allowed to be a part of.

Five went inside the tent and came out with some firewood and matches. He muttered “the tent is bigger on the inside,” at her.

“Here, let me help with setting up the wood,” Vanya said in a normal speaking voice. The two of them set a perfect campfire and then Five lit the wood with a match on his first try.

They were chatting and wondering when everyone else would be back when they were approached by Hermione.

“Hello. Hargreeves, was it?” Five and Vanya nodded. “I was wondering if you could help my friend and I with our tents. It’s no trouble at all if-,”

“Sure. We’ll help with your tent. Who are you?” Five asked while pulling himself up off the ground.

“I’m Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you!” She smiled warmly at them while glancing down at their wrists on their rolled up sleeves.

“I’m Vanya, this is my brother Five. Nice to meet you too.” Vanya gave her an encouraging smile. Hermione’s eyes widened a bit at Five’s name.

“Who’s your friend?” Five asked. I guess we’re pretending to not know what Harry looks like or something. I hope we can tell the others soon, Vanya thought.

“I’m Harry Potter,” Harry responded for her. Five gave him a firm handshake.

“What’s the issue?” Five asked. He pretended Harry’s name was completely unremarkable. Harry’s eyes relaxed.

“Er... we can’t get the poles and pegs in the right places. The tent just sort of flops over,” he said.

“Oh, that’s an easy fix. You just have to have more people holding the fabric. Your tent must be bigger than ours. Here, let me grab this corner and Five…,” Vanya moved to grab a piece of the fabric. Harry grabbed an opposing part while Hermione and Five fixed the crooked pole in the tent. While they fixed the poles and pegs, they began to chit-chat.

“Do you go camping often with your friends?” Hermione asked.

“We’re siblings. Adopted. We used to go camping a lot but not so much recently. I spent a lot of time… outside, as a kid,” Five said awkwardly. He was fiddling with the mallet they were using to hammer in the pegs and looking at anything but the people he was talking to.

“Oh! My family used to go camping a lot too! We used to go to the Forest of Dean. After I got my Hogwarts letter we stopped going, but those were fun times,” Hermione was beginning to ramble a bit.

“Dad used to drop us off in the woods for a couple days. It was a lot of fun!” Vanya added, not realising until she said it that that sounded really fucked up.

“What’s Hogwarts?” Five joked.

Harry looked horrified. He must think that Hermione just gave away the wizarding world to a pair of muggles . Vanya almost giggled to herself.

“I’m joking. Who hasn’t heard of Hogwarts. ‘The second-stuffiest boarding school’.”

“‘Second only to The Umbrella Academy in the United States.’ You’ve read Greatest Magical Schools and their Ranks in Various Subjects , too!”

This was news to Vanya. At some point Five must have found the time to do some research. Did he read instead of napping between dinner and eleven? Vanya wondered.

Five also lit their fire.

“Hello! Thank you so much for helping with the tent and the fire.”

“It’s no problem.” Vanya looked up at him.

“Five! Vanya! We found the water,” he held up a bucket, “Did Mom pack anything to cook or to cook with? I’m hungry,” Klaus whined. He and Allison were back with a bucket of water.

Allison was holding onto the bucket for dear life. She was moving it around to compensate for the way Klaus was moving it, but water splashed around anyway.

“We haven’t looked yet,” Five responded.

Vanya gave a little wave to the Weasleys before following Five into the bigger-on-the-inside tent. The tent itself was set up like a hotel with a kitchenette. Instead of one or two beds, it had seven bunk beds and was filled with supplies like firewood and a few flashlights. When Vanya checked the fridge, she saw it was empty. She tried the cabinets. They were bare except for a few utensils, bowls, and cups. Mom did not pack any food.  This went against every instance in their childhoods when Mom constantly offered them a plate of cookies or a small snack. Vanya looked at Five.

“Last time I checked, Mom is constantly making us food. Why would she send us here empty handed?” Five asked.

“I don’t know. We better tell the others. Do you think the Weasleys would be willing to share with seven extra people?”

“I hope so.” They exited the tent. “Mom didn’t pack food. All we have are some bowls and spoons,” Five announced. Since they went to search the tent, Ben, Diego, and Luther got back from exploring. Diego was carrying a pair of strange looking binoculars.

“We found a cart selling these omnioculars for ten galleons. They’re supposed to have a zoom and enhance features. Slow down, playback, that sort of thing,” Diego said when Five looked at the strange device.

Five nodded.

“Allison and I passed a snack cart. We could pick up the candy and popcorn?” Klaus suggested.

“You lot don’t need to fill up on candy. We can share, it’s the least we can do after Vanya and- Five, was it? Helped to pitch our tents,” Mr. Weasley piped up. “Besides, my wife packed enough to feed thirty people. We have plenty. Can we use your water for the kettle?”

“Sure! Thank you so much,” Allison handed him the bucket. I wonder where she got that from? Vanya could have sworn that they didn’t bring a bucket with them. They must have found it by the tap or something.

Five stomped out their fire with a small pile of rocks he collected for that purpose and then followed them to the Weasley’s campfire to listen to Mr. Weasley talk about the Ministry of Magic workers walking past. At some point in the shuffle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared.

Vanya ate her food and listened to the running commentary that was probably for the benefit of those without the last name Weasley. He introduced the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, Cuthbert Mockridge, along with a man from the Committee on Experimental Charms, an Obliviator that Allison shrinked from, and-

“Bode and Croaker… they’re Unspeakables…”

“They’re what?” Five looked sharply at Mr. Weasley.

“From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…”

Mr. Weasley finished cooking the eggs (Diego had a strange expression on his face when he saw the eggs being cooked. Was he expecting them to be raw? Vanya hadn’t been keeping up with her brother, but she hoped he wasn’t eating raw eggs.), the only raw item Mrs. Weasley sent, when three older boys strolled out of the woods to greet them.

Vanya jumped up to give the three boys room to sit down. She wasn’t the only one with that idea.

“Thanks for the food. I think we should go write to Mom. She must be worried. We left the house at eleven PM to make up for the time difference,” Luther explained.

“Alright. Thank you for the tent and the water, see you later at the game. Where are you sitting?” Harry asked.

“Dad got us tickets in the top box,” Five said.

“Wicked, we’re there too. See you later!” one of the twins replied.

Now, all Vanya needed was to catch a nap. The game would be starting soon and she didn’t want to pass out from a lack of sleep. She saw her siblings settling in to bunks for a light nap as well.

From a tent over, she heard the sounds of Ludo Bagman betting with the Weasley twins on who would win the cup. She heard a mother scolding her child for taking his father’s wand. The tap water running from wherever Allison and Klaus got their water from and the sounds of excited sports fans talking about their favorite team. The noise was pressing into her skull and nearly prevented her tired body from falling into a fitful sleep. Luckily for her, she was more tired than she was overwhelmed by her new hearing ability.

Unluckily for her, her powers activated when she concentrated on the least offensive noise, the tap. Her siblings were very annoyed with her when her powers created a cold breeze that was strong enough to lift the corners of their blankets.

[savannahpfeifer-blog]

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O I'm Sophie by the way, 18 summers young and I'm a bit antisocial, like a really huge tiny bit. Yeah that's what I had, but worse. let's say I spend most of my time alone in bed, with something between my legs. I unbuttoned my shirt and let it hang loosely around my torso, after doing that I took of my pants and laid on my bed for a bit. So here I was on the way to my room when I saw my neighbor's son sprinting through their yard and into the back door, I didn't think much of it because he's quite odd, like, he always runs away or says nothing and just stares at you like he's reading your thoughts. And I don't mean a plush puppy. Anyways I went up the stairs and into my room, where my bed was, my comfy cozy secret spot. Being the always plagued teenager I am I stood up and stretched to relieve my painful back. As usual I kicked of my shoes and sat on my bed, I then removed my socks and put my glasses on the cabinet next to my bed, then I looked up as I thought I was being watched , but I saw nothing. now I'm not going to lie, the neighbor's son was hot, he was called James and was very masculine, six-pack included. My back hurt less than before but was still not painless and although I had learned to live with it I stretched one more time, bending over as far as I could, and I saw a glimmer of movement through my window. Facing the wall I bent over and reached for my toes, putting my ass up in the air as prominent as possible. Don't you ever get that feeling when you're home all by yourself you're being watched? He had that Cumberbatch cuteness and looked like he could do one of those men's perfume commercials. I decided to take a look and saw that the only possible spot for me to have seen movement was my neighbor's sons room, where the blinds where half closed, just enough to block me from looking in but also just open enough to peek through. Three times I did this, and still I had the feeling of being watched. With a quick snap the bra came loose and also slid of my shoulders, light like a feather. Foot by foot I turned around, exposing my back to James, I bent forward and began to slide down my panties, damn I was so wet, I could feel my juices dripping down my legs, after removing my panties I went and sat on the bed. The shirt I unbuttoned earlier slid off my shoulders like it was water, I reached behind my natural and hairy.com back to unclip my bra and realized it was a front clip, I was distracted by the thought of James I guess. So naturally I took the remaining pieces of clothing off in front of the window. He was a dream guy, weird, but my lord he was hot. There I made sure James was able to see me through both windows. To be sure he was paying attention, I bent a little backwards to give myself that extra bit of volume, having double D's is nice, but in this case bigger is better. While thinking this I put some of my fingers in my mouth to make them wet with spit and took them out to rub my clit but I stopped half way, I said to myself: If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it good. I stepped of my bed and licked my fingers one by one, I bet he liked that, once again I bent women atk scary hairy pictures over and got the old shoebox from under my bed, I opened it and took a rather large black dildo out, 20 centimeters long and I could barely fit my hand around it. Trying to look sexy I licked the ridges on the dildo which had already given me so much pleasure. I don't know what made me do all this, I guess I was just very turned on by the idea there was actually someone watching me do all this. So I turned around and sat on my knees, bent over with my ass and pussy for James to see. First I rubbed the dildo against my clit and played with one of my boobs, after doing that for a few minutes I put the tip in, I shocked a bit at first but I always do so I continued and put it in further. I looked back at the window and now clearly saw James looking through the blinds and shacking heavily, he was either ferociously fapping or really big, of course I hoped for the last. After a short amount of time it was already halfway in, I looked at James again, but he wasn't looking at me for some reason, he was looking down and shortly after I heard a muffled buzzing, that was my phone, that must be James because now he was looking again, I took my dildo out and licked it off, after that I reached for my pants in which I had left my phone, 1 new whatsapp message, my hand was shacking, was this what I thought it was? There, the tip was in, I hadn't done this for the longest time and it felt sooo good, now for the rest, slowly but surely it went deeper and deeper with every thrust I gave it. When I sat on my bed again I spread my legs and looked at James, who was till shacking like a madman. With on hand I held my dildo in front of my mouth so I could lick it, with the other I texted him: looks good, wanna come over and show me in person . Luckily my parents weren't going to come home for a while, and we had the house to ourselves. I quickly closed the curtains and put on my lamp to make it nice and cozy. After staring at the image with awe for a moment, I looked at James, I couldn't see his face but I knew he must have been smiling, I could imagine him holding that beast, I wanted it, I needed it, bad. I unlocked my phone and saw the message was from James, I opened the conversation and there it was, a photo with a throbbing cock on it, it was huge, at least as big as my dildo, if not bigger. Should I put on my black or my red lingerie, O fuck it I'll just put on the black ones. Just thinking of that almost made me cum already. I didn't have to say that twice, I saw him stand up and turn around, I could see his humongous cock swinging around. Just as I finished putting my lingerie on I heard the doorbell. Just as I put my hand on the handle of the door I hesitated, but then the bell rang again. yeah of course he would, he was huge no girl is prepared for that. Yeah I had condoms in my cabinet, o shit they wouldn't fit him, shit shit shit. I was biting my lip, and I bet my panties where soaked too. He walked towards me and closed the door, he was so tall and just towered over me. O my god he was here, I'm really going to fuck James. I walked down the stairs. 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This being a hunk carrying me up my stairs to my room about to fuck my brains out with his huge dick. " His voice was like a soft warm breezy, if my panties weren't dripping yet they were now. I felt him grabbing my ass with his soft but big hands, he was so gentle with me. Finally he reached my bra, "please take it off James", I asked him, he shook his head slightly and whispered: "not yet. If you loved this article therefore you would like to collect more info with regards to young and hairy video i implore you to visit our web site. He fondled my breasts and then pulled me against him, he looked into my eyes and opened the door to my room. My arms where clamped around his neck and my legs around his middle, I could feel his dick pushing against my ass. He must have read my thoughts because he picked me up in his strong arms and brought his face close to mine. It was in my mouth now, I couldn't hold myself, I just started going back and forward without thinking about it. 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