#‘having a good breakfast with a friend’

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[mindmelter]

Felix The Perfect Toy

Felix was the hottest jock in my school. Everyone knew who he was and everyone wanted to be his friend.

And I was no different; I was obsessed with his good-looking face, his fit athletic body, and his loud yet charismatic personality, and he had this casual, effortless way of carrying himself like he didn’t even realize how perfect he was.

But it’s not just the looks. Felix is different. While the other popular guys are absolute douchebags, Felix is kind, even to people like me. He could have anyone he wanted—everyone wants to be around him—but he never treats anyone like they’re beneath him. That’s what makes him even more attractive: he’s not just the best-looking guy in school, he’s actually good. It’s maddening how perfect he is.

I dreamed of having him all for myself, but I could barely approach him without having a full-blown panic attack. I knew someone like him would never pay attention to someone like me.

He was the captain of the school's swim team which gave him a fit athletic body to fantasize and drool all about.

Every time I watched him swimming, my mind would wander, fantasizing about licking the water on his body, tasting his hairy armpits, or finally seeing what he hides under those speedos. Unfortunately, that was all he was to me; a fantasy.

When my parents died when I was twelve, I moved in with my very wealthy grandfather. At first, he seemed like a frightening and enigmatic figure—an imposing man of few words, as people would say. But as the years passed, I gradually grew accustomed to his unique personality.

I never knew what he worked for, how he became so rich, or why he was always traveling, which consequently would leave the mansion all to myself. It was lonely, I will admit, I had no one else to share that beautiful mansion with.

One day we were having breakfast together. He was wearing a black robe, flipping through the newspaper with his usual silence, rarely acknowledging me. I sat across from him, stirring my coffee absentmindedly, my mind wandering back to Felix, as it often did.

"You seem distracted," my grandfather said without looking up.

I froze, unsure how to respond. I never talked about my feelings, especially not around him. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who cared about teenage crushes.

"Just... thinking about school," I muttered.

He lowered the paper slowly, folding it neatly before setting it aside. His cold gaze fixed on me, making me shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You’re not a very good liar, boy. What’s on your mind?"

“It’s… this guy,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up.

He already knew I was gay, so that wasn't a surprise to him.

“A guy?” he repeated, almost as if testing the word. "Go on."

"Yeah, a guy from school," I said, avoiding eye contact with him, “Felix. He’s... I don’t know, he’s just... perfect. And completely out of my league.”

My grandfather remained silent, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me or just waiting for me to keep going.

“I mean,” I continued, unable to stop myself now that I’d started, “he’s popular, everyone loves him. He’s the captain of the swim team, and… well, I like him. A lot. But there’s no way he’d ever notice me. I’m... no one compared to him.”

For a long moment, my grandfather just watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“I see,” he said slowly. “So you have feelings for this... Felix. You wish you could have him?"

I nodded, feeling embarrassed for even admitting it. "Yeah. But like I said, he’s way out of my league.”

There was a strange look in my grandfather’s eyes, a glint of something I couldn’t quite place. He stood up from the table, smoothing his robe as he moved toward the door.

“Enjoy your breakfast,” he said cryptically before disappearing into the hallway.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought maybe he was just being his usual mysterious self.

A week later, it was my 18th birthday, but it could as well be any other day since I had no one to spend my birthday with, not even my grandfather, as he was still traveling.

That day at school, I noticed Felix had missed all his classes. That was odd since he had swimming practice that day. I was sad because I was eager to watch him getting all wet in the pool that day; it would be my birthday gift.

Later that day I came back home from school. The house was eerily quiet, as it often was.

When I opened the door to my room, the sight stopped me dead in my tracks. There, in the middle of my room, was a large and long box. Confused, I approached it cautiously, there was a red present lace on top of the box, I pulled it off and slowly opened the box, and inside I saw... I let out a scream and fell to the floor.

My breath caught in my throat.

Felix?

He was motionless with his eyes open, while he was wearing a white tank top and black shorts. He looked perfect, too perfect—like a doll.

I backed away, my heart thudding in my chest. "W-what the hell...?"

This couldn't be Felix; it must be an identical replica of his body, I thought. There was only one way to find out. I slowly approached him and ran my hand on his face, and I felt his soft and warm skin. It was really him, but somehow... different. His eyes were empty, and his body was unnaturally stiff. I gently placed my hand on his chest and felt a heartbeat. It was very slow... actually, too slow for a person—one beat for every five seconds—but at least he had a heartbeat.

A low chuckle came from the doorway. I turned and saw my grandfather standing there with a grin on his face. He stepped inside the room, his cold eyes drifting between me and Felix.

"I see you’ve found your gift."

I swallowed hard, "What... what did you do to him?"

"Consider it your birthday present," he said, "I couldn't let my grandson put himself down over a dumb boy, now you have him."

I stared at him, speechless.

"You don’t have to be alone anymore. He will keep you company when I'm out traveling. He’s yours now, exactly how you wanted."

"But... he’s not... he’s not real, he can't be real!" I stammered.

My grandfather smiled. "Oh, he’s real. But let’s just say I’ve made some... modifications to his brain." He stepped closer, looking down at Felix with a clinical detachment. "You can do whatever you like with him. He won’t resist. He was programmed for obedience only. He sees himself now as a toy, and you as his ultimate owner. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

*Programmed for obedience?* The thought of it sent a shiver down my spine, but not in a bad way.

I glanced up at my grandfather, and for once, I didn’t feel like I had to hide my feelings. “You... did this for me?” My voice cracked. I could barely believe what I was seeing. Felix—*my* Felix—was lying right in front of me, his perfect body ready and waiting.

My grandfather nodded, his expression still cold, but there was something else in his eyes—satisfaction.

"Of course, the way you spoke about him, I know what it means to desire something so deeply, you feel powerless. So I decided to remove that powerlessness for you."

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered, my eyes never leaving Felix’s perfectly still body inside the box, “I’ve... I’ve wanted this for so long, but I never thought...”

My grandfather chuckled, “No need for words, boy. Just enjoy your present, he’s been prepared for you.”

I stepped closer to the box, Felix's features were serene while he stared at nothing. He wasn’t just a fantasy anymore—he was real, and he was mine.

I reached out, my hand trembling as my fingertips brushed against his handsome face. Warm. Awake. And yet completely not.

“He won’t... fight me?” I asked, almost breathless.

“No,” my grandfather replied. “He’ll do exactly as you say. He’s been modified to please you, to follow your every command.”

I turned to my grandfather and smiled. “Thank you,” I said.

My grandfather gave a small nod. "I knew you'd understand. You're my blood, after all. Just remember to never let him out of the house. He's still missing as far as everyone knows. You're 18, so he's your responsibility now."

I looked down at Felix again, feeling a sense of ownership, of power, that I had never felt before. My fantasies were no longer just in my head—they were right here, ready to be made real.

As my grandfather turned to leave the room, he paused at the door, giving me one last glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and there's a manual in the box, enjoy your present."

Once he was out of my room, I locked the door for privacy. Then I picked Felix up from the box. His body was heavy, as expected, but after some hard effort, I managed to drag him to my bed.

Just for fun, I posed his right arm, making him flex.

He looked so serene, so peaceful like he was asleep. But his eyes, those beautiful eyes that I had dreamt about, stared into nothingness. They were the only indication that something was wrong—or right—with him.

I couldn't hold any more second and started to undress him, first taking off his white tank top, then I pulled down his shorts. I was surprised to see he was wearing his swimming speedos.

He probably was abducted after his swimming practice. His body was even more amazing from closer, and to think that for so long, I just watched him from afar...

The realization of having Felix lying on my bed made me start leaking.

I lifted both his arms into a flexing pose.

A smile crept onto my face as I buried my face into his armpits and took a deep sniff, but I was disappointed; he didn't smell like I was expecting to. I wanted to smell his sweaty, musky armpits, but instead, he smelled faintly like a factory or a lab.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I had to figure out how to make him more 'alive'; I needed him to produce the sweat I was so looking forward to sniffing and lick. I wanted him to act more like the real Felix.

That's when I remembered about the manual my grandfather talked about, the instructions were surprisingly detailed. It was like a manual for a very expensive, very human-like sex doll. But this wasn't a doll; this was Felix. After searching for a while, I found a section titled "Activation and Customization."

"To activate your toy, you must press a button installed in your toy's nape. This will initiate the awakening process," the instructions said. I quickly started searching Felix's stiff neck for the button, finally, my fingertips found a small, unnoticeable button hidden under his skin at the base of his neck.

I took a deep breath and pressed it. Nothing happened at first until his eyes fluttered and started to roll in circles as if it was imitating a loading icon.

Suddenly, Felix's body jerked to life. He looked around the room with a vacant expression, his pupils dilating as he took in his surroundings. I watched, frozen, as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"H-Hello, Felix," I managed to say, my voice quivering.

He stared at me, his gaze unflinching and his movements mechanical. "Hello, Master," he responded in a monotone voice. "I'm your toy, Felix. How may I serve you?"

"Ummm, can you... Can you act more like the old... umm, real Felix?"

I watched as his eyes started to swirl again; he then looked at me—the same look that I had seen countless times at school when he was about to tease someone or when he was flirting with the girls. "I'm sorry for acting weird, dude," he chuckled, his voice sounding so much more natural, he then smirked and looked around my room. "That's a nice room you have, did you win the lottery or something?" He joked.

"Well, kinda... ummm... but you are definitely my best prize so far," I said, It was funny how I was still nervous about talking with him, even though I knew he was my brainless toy now. "So, how do you feel?"

Felix rubbed his head and chuckled. "I feel fine, man. A little stiff, but I guess that's to be expected after being in a box all day." He looked down at his body, then looked at me with an eyebrow raised, "But, dude, what the fuck? Why am I in only my speedos?"

I blushed and stumbled over my words. "Well, you know, you don't have to wear clothes around me, you're my toy now."

Felix relaxed, "You're right, I don't have to wear clothes around you." With that, he stood up and pulled down his speedos, revealing his big soft cock. I gasped at the sight.

"W-what are you doing?" I stuttered, my eyes glued to his cock.

"You said I don't have to wear clothes around you, speedos are technically clothes, aren't they?" He said with a cheeky smile.

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."

He walked over to me, his cock swinging gently with every step. He was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face. "So, what do you want to do with me, dude? I'm your toy, and as a toy, I deserve to be played with."

"I-I would like you to do push-ups for me, p-please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Felix nodded and dropped to the floor, his muscles rippling as he pushed himself up and down. I watched, mesmerized, as he performed the task with ease.

"Is this what you had in mind?" He asked, looking up at me with a smirk while still doing push-ups.

I nodded, my cock now rock hard in my pants. "Yes," I managed to say. "It's exactly how I fantasized for so long," I pulled my hard cock out and started jerking off to the sight of my crush, obeying my every command.

For so long I had jerked off to Felix's photos, and now here he was, in the flesh, doing push-ups in front of me. The reality was so much better than any of my fantasies. I couldn't believe this was really happening.

After almost one hour of nonstop push-ups, Felix's amazing body was glistening with sweat. The smell was starting to fill my room, it was heavenly! He looked up at me with a hint of exhaustion in his eyes, I kinda wanted to know how far he could keep doing pushups, but I didn't want to break my new toy.

"That's enough Felix, sit on that chair over there with your hands behind your head. I want to taste your sweaty armpits."

"Yes Master." Felix obeyed immediately, sitting down with his arms behind his head and looking up at me expectantly.

My cock bobbed as I walked to him and sat on his lap; I leaned down and took a deep breath, filling my nose with the musky scent of his armpits. I then slowly stuck my tongue out and licked the saltiness from his skin, savoring the taste of the most popular jock in my school. His body tensed, but he didn't move away.

"That's so disgusting dude, how can you get off by licking the dirty armpits of another dude?!" He exclaimed with a mix of shock and confusion, but he didn't resist.

I chuckled and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "It's not just any armpit, Felix. It's yours."

After spending the entire evening sniffing and licking every inch of Felix's sweaty body, I decided it was time to take things to the next level. "Alright, Felix," I said, getting off from him, "I want you to lift your legs and spread them, keep your hands behind your head."

Felix looked at me with a mix of curiosity and confusion, but he did as he was told, his body now programmed to obey his new owner.

"That's so humiliating," he murmured.

My heart was racing. This was it—the moment I had been dreaming of for so long. I looked down at him, his body now mine to explore and use as I wished. "Don't worry," I whispered, trying to reassure him, "you're going to enjoy this, I promise."

I leaned in between his legs and kissed him softly. His body tensed up, he clearly wasn't happy about kissing another guy, but he didn't pull away and just let me explore his mouth. Encouraged, I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding into his mouth and exploring it as he lay there, unmoving. "That's fucking gross.... uuurrghh, I'm not gay," he mumbled against my lips.

"It doesn't matter if you are gay or straight, Felix," I whispered as I continued jerking him off, "You're my toy now."

He stared at me, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and anger. "What the fuck, man? I'm nobody's toy!" He breathed out, his voice cracking slightly.

The programming really did a good job at mimicking Felix's real straight personality. Ignoring his protests, I reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it gently, but he wasn't getting hard, of course he wouldn't, I thought with a chuckle.

"Get hard for me," I commanded, watching his cock swell in my hand. "Does this feel good?"

Felix let out a moan, his body betraying his protests. "No, it...uurrghhh... it doesn't," he gritted out, his voice filled with need.

"Then let's try this," I aimed my cock against his tight ass, I felt his body tense up, but before he could react, I inserted the tip, feeling his muscles clench around me.

"What the fuck!" He shouted, trying to sit up, but I pushed him back down gently.

"Don't move," I whispered, "I want you to love this. Remember, you're not just my toy, you're my sex toy. Your purpose is to give me pleasure."

I watched Felix's eyes rolling in circular movement for a few seconds, then he suddenly looked at me with needy puppy eyes.

"Aawwwwwwghhh! This feels so fucking good! I love how you fill my ass, dude!" He moaned.

I grinned and pushed deeper inside him, feeling his tight straight ass envelop my shaft. I began to thrust in and out of him, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm. His moans grew louder and louder; the command for him to love it was really proving to be effective.

As I fucked him, I couldn't believe how perfect it felt. Soon I was fucking him real hard, my hips slapping hard against his ass, the sound echoing through my room. As I thrust inside him, I leaned in and buried my face in his armpits. I took deep sniffs as I heard Felix's moans grow louder and more desperate.

"You're mine Felix, forever!" I moaned against his armpits as I came inside him.

While I was still inside of him, I commanded him to cum, but just when he was in the middle of his orgasm, I pressed the button in his nape, and he froze mid-orgasm, his face now frozen with his eyes rolling back and tongue sticking out.

But I was surprised to see his cock was still shooting cum all over his abs, some even landed on his face and tongue. I guess the programming isn't able to stop an ongoing orgasm.

Pulling away, I looked down at him, lying on the chair with his body covered in sweat and cum leaking from his ass. His handsome face, was now distorted in a mindless dumb expression.

I decided to give him a bath, to clean off the sweat and cum that covered him, but also because he still had some of the "factory" smell on him.

I filled the tub with warm water and called him to get inside the bathtub. He was in his mindless, obedient state; that was his default mode. I wasn't in the mood to bathe a loud and rebellious toy.

His eyes were glazed over as I cleaned his body, it was so cute.

As I washed his pecs, I couldn't help but playfully pinch his nipples. I continued my exploration, moving down to his abs and then to his hard cock, which was still hard since I first commanded him to be.

"You're such a good toy," I praised, giving his shaft a gentle tug. "I've always loved you, Felix, yet you never noticed me," I whispered as I washed his hair with shampoo, "you were always surrounded by so many friends and busy with girls, why would you notice someone like me, right?" I said, washing his pecs and abs. He didn't respond since he was in default mode, but I wasn't expecting him to. "I'm so glad we have each other now. I promise we will have a lot of fun together."

When I was finished, I told him to step out of the bath and sit so I could dry him. As I was drying his muscles, an idea suddenly came to me. I pressed his nape and gave him a command...

After I was done with the command, he tilted his head and smiled at me.

"Why use a towel, Master? Use your tongue to dry my sexy body." He then pulled the towel from his lap, giving me full access to his throbbing shaft, "And I think you should start with my cock."

__________________________

I've been enjoying my new toy for months now.

Felix's disappearance is commented on to this day, no one knows what happened to him after he left the swimming practice. Somehow, the organization in which my grandfather worked managed to clear all the evidence of his disappearance from that night.

I was back home after a boring day at school, and like every day since I got Felix as my toy, I spent the day looking forward to coming back home to him.

As I walked into my room, I was greeted with the sight of Felix "sleeping" on a chair.

He always spends the day "Inactivated" when I am out. I walked to him and pressed his nape, activating him.

When he saw me he gave me a warm smile and stretched his arms, teasing me by showing his armpits.

"Welcome back Master, please come take your daily dose of your toy's armpits."

[buckgasms]

I have filthy idea for trailer park bucky!

You talk to bucky about how one of the naybors you don't like very much is obnoxiously loud when she has her gentlemen friend over and you think anyone whose that loud in bed must be faking it! Bucky intends to prove you wrong by making you scream louder then the other woman

I'm really feeling blessed this evening with nonnies sending me their excellent thoughts 💭

And this is indeed an excellent thought 🩷

So you stumbled out of your trailer feeling very grumpy, your mood not improving when you hear Bucky chuckling at you as he lights a cigarette.

"Bad night sweetheart?"

You growl and take your seat outside with your breakfast and a strong coffee.

"Of course! It's her, again. Every time she has a visitor over she's screaming all night long. It's so over the top, no one screams like that during sex. It's ridiculous..."

You take a long sip of coffee as Bucky puff out a smooth trail of smoke, eyes glittering with mirth. Your phone starts buzzing and you wave at him as you head back in to take a call, getting your day started.

🌝

You are thinking of heading to bed when there is a tap at your door. You groan inwardly, feeling your body ache from tiredness, hoping whoever it is, doesn't stop for long.

You swing the door open and see Bucky standing there, looking divine as ever. White vest sitting low on his chest, jeans tight as always and a soft smile on his face and two beers in his hand.

"Oh, hi Bucky" you say, a genuine smile gracing your face as you step back. You might be tired but when he's looking that good, you think one beer won't hurt.

🌝

As the beer works it's magic you rest your foot on Bucky's lap and nudges his thigh. "So what are you doing here on this fine evening Mr. Barnes?"

He tilts towards you, gripping your leg and lets his hand glide upwards.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier, you know about screaming in bed?"

You giggled at the earnest look on his face, sighing a little as his thumb massages your thigh ever so nicely.

"Well it is insane, she's just showing off at this point...no one is that good..."

He grins wickedly at you.

"I bet I could make you scream sugar... Wanna give her a taste of her own medicine?"

You giggle behind your hand, wondering if he's really serious. But the devious look on his face is going absolutely nowhere.

"Really? You think you can make me scream like that pornstar next door?"

He nods, hands gripping your waist as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips which you eagerly return.

He stands up and walks over to the window, pushing it open, checking that her window is open too.

"Come over here sugar... Wanna make sure everyone can hear you. Now be a good girl and take off that pretty dress."

You shimmy out of your dress and he sucks in a breath. He beckons you closer and you edge forward, pressing yourself into his chest as his hands grip your waist and squeeze at your soft skin.

"So beautiful sugar... Gonna make you feel so fuckin good..."

He presses kisses on your cheeks, down your neck and along your shoulder. Goosebumps break out all over your skin in the wake of his lips.

You moan and rake your fingers across his chest, whispering little pleas for him to give you more, always needing a little more.

He moves you to sit on the little table by the window. You shiver as he removes your bra, the cooler evening air dancing over your skin. You whine a little but he just chuckles.

"Need you to be a little louder than that... Here lemme help ya..."

He pushes you to lay back, your head right by the window as be leans down and sucks on your pebbled nipple, lavishing attention on you. You shudder and gasp as he nips gently and sucks hard at the sensitive skin.

You back arches and fingers thread through his hair and a long moan slips through your lips.

"Hmm not bad, that's a little louder but I know you can do better for me..."

His lips drift down and you feel him pull your panties down as he goes. More kisses are pressed to your heat and finally his tongue delves into your folds, torturing your clit with gentle licks and sucks.

A finger joins quickly after. He curls it in slow, firms strokes that have you emitting louder cries, a stream of 'ohs' filling the air. His mouth works faster and your feet come to perch on the table, so you can thrust your pussy into his mouth.

His chuckle sends a wave of pleasure through you and you whine when he pulls away, his finger still going strong.

"So greedy sugar. But you taste so sweet, I guess I don't mind." His thumb circles your clit and rubs hard without warning.

"I want you to tell your noisy neighbour who this pretty cunt belongs to. Say it nice and loud and then I'll letcha come."

He stands, pressing a hand to your stomach and adding more fingers and pumping hard and fast.

"Come on sugar, nice and loud...."

You can't really help the scream that leaves your lips and he drags you to your peak. You scream out his name, how you belong to him, over and over until your orgasm subsides and you lie panting on the table, his hands soothing your shivering body.

When you finally stop panting his hands pull you to sitting and he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"That was great, good job sugar...."

You think he's done but he pulls his cock free and rubs it along your folds.

"Bucky...it's too sensitive I can't" you moan as he presses in his fat, leaking tip. He tuts and grips your chin, forcing you to look into his devious eyes.

"We ain't done sugar" is all he says before he thrusts, gripping your thigh to hold you open for him. You can only hold on to his big shoulders as he pounds into you, the sensitivity almost took much.

"Buckyyy, it's so big..." You wail, you don't even realise how loud you are, but it spurs him on. He grips your hair and forces you to watch as he spears into you relentlessly.

"Such a messy girl ain't ya, making a messame?" Lookathat sloppy cunt, love it sugar, taking me so well."

You cry out and rub at your clit, spreading your lips to display yourself more to him.

"Jesus sugar, that's a good girl. You gonna scream for me? Or am I gonna have to make ya?"

Words fail you but you can emit a long loud moan as your walls squeeze him tight. He pushes you back down again and his hips snap just that much harder and faster. His growls and grunts are lost under the sound of your cries of pleasure.

He rubs hard at your raw pussy and you slam into your orgasm, a scream dragged from the bottom of your lungs as you grip the table to keep you grounded.

You feel him pulse within you, before leaning down to press kisses to your sweaty cheeks and forehead. You move your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers drifting down the muscles of his back.

You are about to say something when you hear a very loud, pointed cough. You both look through the open window and see your neighbour glaring at you both before she slams her window shut.

"Whoops"

Yes I was thinking about this vest....

[amateurvoltaire]

Summer holidays are over, and if you’re anything like me—still pretending that your inbox full of emails doesn’t exist (Yes, Sharon, I’ll get to your spreadsheet eventually!) and scrolling through holiday snaps on repeat—here’s something to help ease the pain: Robespierre’s Journey to Carvin, the ultimate travel blog (1).

In June 1783, a 25-year-old Maximilien Robespierre embarked on a modest 35 km trip from Arras to Carvin to visit his relatives. He wrote a delightfully dramatic account of this journey, addressed to Antoine Buissart, his friend, mentor, and his wife Charlotte.

For anyone who thinks of Robespierre as some cold, humourless figure, I present this letter as evidence to the contrary. His wit, self-mockery, and unexpected humour shine through. He likens himself to Aeneas, takes jabs at his own inflated sense of importance, and, of course, waxes lyrical about tarts (2). Absolutely brilliant!

As always, this is my own translation, and honestly, there are more polished ones out there. Robespierre is in full show-off mode, packing the text with references to Greek and Roman history and mythology—because why not? I’ve done my best to explain them all, but it’s possible I may have missed a few...

Translation: Impressions of a Journey to Carvin (3)

Monsieur,  

There are no pleasures truly agreeable unless shared with one’s friends. I shall therefore impart to you a description of those I have lately enjoyed.

Expect not an account of my journey, for such works have been so prodigiously multiplied of late years that the public must surely be sated with them. I know of an author who, having travelled but five leagues (4), immortalised the event in both verse and prose.

But what, pray, is such an endeavour compared to the one I have undertaken? I have not merely travelled five leagues; I have covered six—and six good leagues, I assure you—so much so that, by the reckoning of the locals, they are worth at least seven ordinary leagues. Yet, I shall not say a word of my journey. I lament for your sake, for it would have afforded you the most infinitely interesting adventures—those of Ulysses and Telemachus (5)  would pale in comparison.

It was at five o'clock in the morning when we set out; the carriage which bore us passed through the city gates at the very moment the chariot of the Sun rose from the bosom of the Ocean. Our vehicle was adorned with a cloth of dazzling whiteness, a portion of which fluttered freely in the breath of the zephyrs. In this manner, we passed in triumph before the customs house. You may imagine that I could not resist turning my gaze in that direction, eager to see whether the sentinels of the excise office would betray their ancient reputation for courtesy. Filled with noble emulation, I dared aspire to outshine them in politeness, should it be possible. Leaning over the side of the carriage, I doffed my new hat and saluted them with a gracious smile. I had expected a courteous return. Would you believe it? These officials, motionless as statues at the entrance to their hut, fixed their eyes upon me, offering no return of my greeting. Ever possessed of an infinite sense of pride, I was deeply wounded by this sign of disdain, and it soured my temper for the remainder of the day (6).

Nonetheless, our steeds bore us with a swiftness that defies imagination. They appeared as if they sought to rival the Sun’s own horses (7) flying above us. Just as I had endeavoured to surpass the customs officials at the Méaulens gate in civility, our horses leapt over the suburb of Sainte-Catherine with a single bound (8), and with a second, we found ourselves upon the square in Lens (9). There we paused briefly. I took advantage of this respite to survey the beauties of the town that might engage the curiosity of travellers. While the rest of the company breakfasted, I stole away and ascended the hill upon which stands the Calvary. From this vantage, I cast my gaze, with mingled sentiments of tenderness and admiration, over the vast plain where Condé, at the tender age of twenty, won that famous victory over the Spaniards, saving the fatherland (10) . Yet a more compelling object drew my attention: the Town Hall. Though neither remarkable in size nor magnificence, it still had every claim to inspire my keenest interest. “This modest edifice,” I mused as I gazed upon it, “is the very sanctuary wherein Mayor T..., with a round wig and the scales of Themis (11) in hand, once weighed with impartial justice the rights of his fellow citizens. A minister of justice, favoured by Aesculapius (12), after pronouncing sentence, he would immediately dictate a medical prescription. Both criminal and patient alike trembled at his presence, and this great man, by virtue of dual authority, wielded the most extensive power ever exercised by one man over his compatriots.”

In the fervour of my enthusiasm, I could not rest until I had penetrated the precincts of the Town Hall. I was determined to see the courtroom and the tribunal where the aldermen sit. I had the porter sought throughout the town; at length he came, unlocked the doors, and I rushed into the courtroom. Seized by a religious reverence, I fell to my knees within this august temple and passionately kissed the seat that had once been pressed by the posterior of the great T....

Thus did Alexander prostrate himself before the tomb of Achilles (13), and thus did Caesar render homage to the monument which housed the ashes of the conqueror of Asia (14).

We resumed our journey; scarce had I settled upon my bundle of straw when Carvin came into view. At the sight of this fortunate land, we all let out a cry of joy, much like the Trojans, escaped from the ruin of Ilium, upon first sighting the shores of Italy (15).

The good folk of this village gave us a reception which amply compensated for the indifference we had endured from the officials at the Méaulens gate. Citizens of all ranks vied with one another in their eagerness to behold us. The cobbler paused, tool in hand, on the verge of piercing a sole, so that he might gaze at us at leisure; the barber, abandoning a half-shaven beard, rushed towards us, razor still in hand; the housewife, in her curiosity, risked the burning of her tarts. I beheld three gossips interrupt a most animated conversation to fly to their windows. Alas, the journey was all too brief, but during that time, we savoured the flattering pleasure of being the sole object of the populace’s attention. “How sweet it is to travel!” I mused. Indeed, they say that no man is a prophet in his own land; at the gates of one’s own city, one is scorned; six leagues further, one becomes a figure of public curiosity.

I was lost in these reflections when we arrived at the house that marked the end of our journey. I shall make no attempt to describe to you the outpouring of tenderness that accompanied our embraces—such a scene would have moved you to tears. Indeed, I know of but one comparable moment in all of history: when Aeneas, having fled the ruins of Troy, arrived in Epirus with his fleet and was reunited with Helenus and Andromache, whom fate had placed on the throne of Pyrrhus (16). Their reunion, it is said, was one of the tenderest on record. I do not doubt it. Aeneas, with his excellent heart, Helenus, the finest Trojan, and Andromache, the sensitive widow of Hector, surely shed many tears and heaved many sighs upon that occasion. I am willing to believe that their emotion was equal to ours; but after Helenus, Aeneas, Andromache, and ourselves, one must draw the line.

Since our arrival, our days have been filled with nothing but pleasures. Since last Saturday, I have been indulging in tarts, undeterred by others’ envy. By fate’s decree, my bed was placed in a chamber that serves as a storeroom for pastries, thus exposing me to the temptation of indulging all night. But I reflected that it is noble to master one’s passions, and so I slept, surrounded by these seductive objects. It is true, however, that I made up for this long abstinence during the day.

I give thanks to thee, O skilled hand,  

That first shaped pliant dough  

And offered to mortals this delicious dish.  

But have they honoured thee as they ought?  

Have they raised altars to thy glory?  

Hundreds of peoples, offering incense and vows,  

Have filled the earth with temples and gods,  

Yet all have forgotten that sublime genius  

Who brought ambrosia to mankind.  

The tart, with due honour, graces their feasts,  

But do they think of its first creator?  

Of all the acts of ingratitude for which mankind has been guilty toward its benefactors, this has always shocked me the most. It is the people of Artois who must atone for it, for by the judgement of all Europe, they know the worth of tarts better than any other people in the world. Their honour demands that they erect a temple to its inventor. I must tell you, in confidence, that I have a project in mind, which I propose to present to the Estates of Artois (17). I fully expect it will be strongly supported by the clergy.

But it is not enough to eat tart; one must also eat it in good company. I have had this pleasure. Yesterday, I was granted the highest honour to which I could ever aspire: I dined with three lieutenants and the son of a bailiff. All the magistrates of the neighbouring villages were assembled at our table. At the centre of this Senate, shone the Lieutenant of Carvin, like Calypso amongst her nymphs(18). Ah! Had you but seen with what graciousness he conversed with the rest of the company, like an ordinary man! How indulgently he judged the champagne poured for him, and with what satisfaction he smiled at his reflection in his glass! I witnessed all this with my own eyes... And yet, see how difficult it is to content the human heart. Not all my desires have been fulfilled; I am soon to return to Arras, where I hope, upon seeing you, to find a pleasure far more genuine than those of which I have spoken. We shall meet again with the same joy that Ulysses and Telemachus felt after twenty years of absence. I shall have no trouble forgetting my bailiffs and lieutenants. However charming a lieutenant may be, believe me, Madame, he can never rival you.

His figure, even when the champagne lends it a soft blush, cannot approach the natural charms that are yours, and no company of bailiffs in the world could ever compensate me for the pleasure of your delightful conversation.

I remain, with the utmost sincerity, Monsieur, your most humble and obedient servant,  

Robespierre.

Carvin, 12 June 1783.

Notes

1) I’m also working on my own “travel blog” about frolicking through the Vendée, but—procrastination, you know. 

(2) If you ever find yourself in Northern France, eat the tarts. They are sensational.

(3) This describes his  journey from Arras to Carvin

(4) 1 league = around 5 km

(5) Ulysses (Odysseus) and his son, Telemachus, are central figures in The Odyssey, known for their epic and legendary adventures  filled with mythological dangers, gods, and heroic feats over many years. Ulysses faces numerous trials, including battles with monsters like the Cyclops, the Sirens, and the struggles against divine wrath, while Telemachus embarks on his own perilous journey to find his father.

(6) Robespierre’s original line, “J'ai toujours eu infiniment d'amour-propre,” reveals quite a bit of self-reflection and perhaps a healthy dose of self-awareness.

(7) In Greek mythology, the Sun (often represented by either the titan Helios or god Apollo) is said to ride across the sky in a chariot drawn by powerful horses that pull the Sun from east to west each day. These horses are often imagined as swift and unstoppable forces.

(8) Méaulens is a gate, and Sainte-Catherine is a neighbourhood, both in Arras.

(9) Lens is a village about 20km from Arras

(10) I assume Robespierre is referring to the Battle of Lens here (since he is in Lens), which occurred on 20 August 1648 and was significant because it helped solidify France’s position at the end of the Thirty Years' War. But Condé was 26 at the time, and Robespierre might be confusing it with the Battle of Rocroi, which Condé won at 22. Does Max suck at history? Maybe!

(11) Themis is the Greek goddess of justice who is often depicted holding scales

(12) Aesculapius is the Roman god of medicine

(13) Alexander the Great, the Macedonian conqueror, greatly admired Achilles, the legendary hero of the Iliad. During his military campaigns, Alexander visited the supposed tomb of Achilles near Troy. According to historical accounts, he prostrated himself (knelt or bowed) before Achilles' tomb as a sign of deep reverence, honouring the warrior he aspired to emulate. Alexander saw himself as a successor to Achilles, carrying the mantle of Greek heroism into his conquests.

(14)  Caesar, like many Romans, admired Alexander's achievements, particularly his conquests in Asia (which included vast territories from Greece to India). Caesar visited Alexander’s tomb in Alexandria, Egypt, where he reportedly paid homage to the great conqueror.  Obviously Robespierre is being ironic by comparing his kneeling in the town hall and kissing the seat of a local magistrate) to these monumental moments of history.

(15) This refers to Virgil’s Aeneid, where Aeneas and the surviving Trojans are filled with hope and relief upon reaching Italy after enduring numerous trials and suffering.

(16) Again, a reference to the  Aeneid. Aeneas, after fleeing the destruction of  Troy, arrives in Epirus  (a region in modern-day Greece and Albania) during his long journey to find a new home for the surviving Trojans. There, Aeneas encounters Helenus and Andromache. Helenus is a Trojan prince and the son of King Priam of Troy. After the fall of Troy, he ends up ruling part of Epirus, having taken control of the land once ruled by Pyrrhus (Neoptolemus), the son of Achilles.Andromache was the wife of the Trojan hero Hector  (who was killed by Achilles during the war). After Hector's death and the fall of Troy, Andromache becomes a captive of Pyrrhus, but in Epirus, she is eventually freed and marries Helenus.

(17)  The Estates of Artois were a were a regional representative assembly or parliament the Artois province. 

(18) Calypso is a nymph or Oceanid who appears in Homer’s Odyssey. Calypso lived on the island of Ogygia, where she detained the hero Ulysses for several years. She was surrounded by lesser nymphs who served her.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Meddling Mr. Munson

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Wayne is your favorite regular at work. Plus- his nephew is really cute.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff and good feels you’ll get a toothache, allusions to pregnancy, alcohol mentioned, mentions of bullying

The first time you meet Wayne Munson, you’re eight hours into your six hour shift at the only diner in Hawkins that's open twenty-four hours. You’re working the overnight shift, and you were supposed to be relieved at 4:00am, but the waitress who was supposed to relieve you called from a payphone to tell you her bus broke down and she can’t get to work until the replacement arrives. So now, you’re brewing a fresh pot of coffee for the only patron you’ve had before the breakfast rush- which hopefully you’ll be missing.

You chit chat with Mr. Munson while he sits at the counter nursing his black coffee. He works overnight at the plant you’ve learned, and he asks you questions about your college classes. He doesn’t admit it, because he’s not the type, but he really enjoys the daily chats with you as stopping at the diner after work becomes one of his routines.

“You should come meet me for breakfast on your way to school,” Wayne suggests one night when he and Eddie are watching TV. His suggestion is met with Eddie blowing a raspberry and a grumble about not wanting to wake up that early. Wayne tosses his hat at Eddie, harmlessly making Eddie jump. “I ain’t asking,” Wayne reiterates and Eddie nods sheepishly, sinking into the couch.

Your eyes light up when you hear the bell on the front door. You already know it’s one of your favorite regulars before you even look up. “‘Morning, Mr. Munson,” you say cheerfully, “Take a seat, I just put on a fresh pot.” You look up and you’re surprised to see he isn’t alone. “Oh, hi Eddie,” you say with a grin, surprised to see Wayne isn’t alone. Eddie’s brain short circuits because he doesn’t know how you even know him, and you are very pretty.

You step out from behind the counter with two mugs in hand as they slide into a booth. “You don’t remember me,” you tease, filling both the mugs with coffee. Eddie fumbles over his words apologetically and Wayne smirks to himself. “That’s okay, we weren’t really friends,” you explain and tell him your name, “You sat in front of me last year in Ms.O’Donnell’s class. We didn’t really talk much.” He’s silently thanking you for omitting that you didn’t talk because he was hardly there. However, he’s practically soaring that despite that you somehow remembered him and aren’t recoiling in disgust.

“Eddie’s got her again this year,” Wayne interjects and Eddie wants to roll under the booth. He’s suddenly embarrassed that he’s repeating senior year again and he wished you didn’t know that. Wayne means nothing by it, literally just making conversation, and the news Eddie is in her class doesn’t seem to even phase you.

“She’s brutal,” you exhale, “If you want, I think I still have my notes somewhere. They’re all yours.”

“T-that’d be great,” he manages to get out. You smile at him and his limbs feel like clay.

“Yeah, of course,” you wave it off like it’s nothing. “I’ll come back in a few and grab your orders, take your time.”

Wayne is using his menu to hide his grin from Eddie. He didn’t know if Eddie and you would hit it off, he just had hopes. He’s not one to meddle, especially in his nephew’s love life, but when you had told Wayne you didn’t have a boyfriend, he immediately wanted to introduce you to Eddie. He knew Eddie would just reject the idea, so he didn’t say anything.

“She’s cute,” Wayne says after a minute when you disappear behind the door to the kitchen.

“God, cut it out,” Eddie exclaims, dramatically covering his face with his hands. His face is bright red. This seriously can not be happening right now. “Wayne, seriously, you are not seriously trying to set me up right now?”

“I’m just trying to treat my nephew to breakfast, I thought it would be nice. We haven’t done this in a while,” he says evenly, but Eddie knows the truth. “I think I’m gonna get the meat lover’s omelet,” he muses, acting oblivious to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie’s nervous bouncing of his leg is making the booth shake, and the coffee spills out over the rim of the mugs ever so slightly. Wayne slides over extra napkins, and chastises Eddie about leaving rings on the table.

“Are you all set?” You ask, getting your notepad out of the front pocket of your apron. Wayne nods and Eddie is staring blankly at the menu in front of him, paralyzed.

“The pancakes are really good if you’re still trying to decide,” you offer, thinking Eddie is actually reading the menu.

“U-uh yeah, that sounds good,” he replies. You nod and scribble it down on your pad.

“Your usual Wayne?” You ask and he nods.

“You’re the best,” he smiles, passing you the menus.

“It’ll be right out,” you reply, “Do you want me to top these off?” Wayne offers you his empty cup and Eddie manages to shake his head no. You disappear behind the doors again to ring in the order, and Wayne nudges Eddie to snap out of it.

“You’re being rude,” he says, “Look I get it, I’ll stay out of it. But you don’t have to freeze her out. She’s being lovely.”

Of course you’re being lovely, Eddie screams internally. You are lovely! He can’t bring himself to correct his uncle that he’s not ignoring you to spite him, but he’s actually tongue tied and completely fumbling. He can’t give Wayne the satisfaction of being right and he also doesn’t want to say anything out loud in utter fear you’d hear him.

“Food should be right out,” you say with a sweet smile. You walk over to the opposite side of the diner and wipe down a few of the empty booths. Eddie flexes his fingers over his thighs repeatedly to try to relax. Wayne watches Eddie, starting to notice he’s a lot more twitchy than he usually is. Eddie’s always animated but this is new. Maybe, Wayne muses, his little plan might actually be working.

Wayne really only ever wants Eddie to be happy. He’s had a front row seat to the abuse Eddie has received from his peers his whole life. Under the tattoos and the hair and the ripped jeans, Wayne still sees the little boy he tucked into bed and the little boy who sat on the kitchen counter while he helped clean his scraped knees. He wished the pain he had to help Eddie navigate was still that simple. Wayne thought maybe you’d see Eddie the way he did.

You’re nice, and genuinely so. Wayne thought if anyone could see Eddie, truly see him for the amazing kid he was, it would be you. Even if this whole stupid plan of his amounted to nothing more, you’re treating Eddie with such a normal level of human decency and you have no idea how much that means to the both of them. For Wayne, that’s more than he could ever ask for. He knows as much as he’s resisting, Eddie will leave here and go to school feeling a little bit better. For a brief moment in an empty diner, he can see the world isn’t always out to get him. Sometimes, the world is nice- with pretty girls to talk to and uncles who love you more than life itself.

When you bring out the food, Wayne watches the way your eyes linger on Eddie. You’re also being a little shy. He smiles to himself, keeping his head low while he starts to dig into his food. You ask Eddie about his band, and Wayne watches his nephew’s eyes light up, his usual confidence returning to the forefront as he tells you all about Corroded Coffin. You listen, and Wayne realizes you’re not just placating Eddie, you actually care.

“I’ll have to come to another show sometime,” you say, “I say you guys at The Hideout like a couple months ago actually.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes widen in disbelief. You giggle, and nod.

“Yup, you guys were awesome,” you assure him. “If you guys ever sell a tape, let me know. I want one.”

As they finish up their breakfast, you drop off the check, and Eddie thinks he might die when he sees you’ve scribbled your number on the receipt for him. The check has been comped and the note read:

“Wayne, Happy to treat my favorite customer! Eddie, in case you’d want to go out sometime? No pressure.” With your number underneath.

The most recent time you saw Wayne Munson, he pulled you into a hug and thanked you for inviting him over. It’s the first time you and Eddie are hosting a holiday in your new apartment.

He smiles as he looks around. You and Eddie have really done an amazing job making a cozy little life together. He smells the turkey finishing up in the oven and he can’t believe he can finally witness his nephew this happy. The two of you insist he sit in the living room while you both finish cooking for him. He’s enjoying watching the two of you work in the kitchen together, moving synchronously like you’ve done this dance a million times before- and you have.

He settles in and Eddie brings him a beer. Wayne looks around at Eddie’s and your new home and he can’t help but beam with pride. This is all he could’ve asked for Eddie- all he’s ever wanted to see him have. Eddie’s still as dopey grinned and smitten as he was the first day back at the diner. Wayne knows you’re the one- he knew before you or Eddie knew.

Eddie’s his son, even if he’ll never be called Dad. He doesn’t want that anyways. But, he knows your the best daughter-in-law he could have ever asked for. A best friend and a confidant from the first day he met you. He’s so glad to have you both together in his life. Little did he know, that tonight after dinner when he’s long past just full- but not too full for pie- Eddie would hold your hand and you’d both sit across from him, giving him the best news he could possibly hear in this lifetime.

His small trio, will shortly be adding a fourth band member.

[sequinsmile-x]

Chasing Shadows

“Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a secret relationship, and have to 'fake' being in a relationship for a case...whilst pretending they are not actually in a relationship.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is one of the prompts from the I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss series, but it got away from me so it is its own stand-alone one-shot!

I've made this a series on Ao3 for ease (and to be honest mostly so I can keep track haha). The prompt for this one is 'kisses for a cover'

Anyway, this is really silly in parts and my attempt at being funny.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical themes, smatterings of plot/case fic,

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I could have done that.” 

Emily turns to look at her boyfriend over her shoulder. She smiles widely at him before she turns back to the task at hand, her focus on the eggs she was pushing around the pan in front of her instead of how good he looked standing half naked in her kitchen, his chest bare and his hair askew. She loved seeing Aaron like this, without the harsh lines and straight edges of his suits. There was something about seeing him rumpled like this, half asleep and deliciously hers, that she loved. 

They had the whole weekend stretched out ahead of them. Jack was with Roy, a weekend away that had been planned for months and Emily had jumped at the opportunity to spend some time alone with her boyfriend. She had felt selfish at first for how excited she was for it, but Aaron had assured her he was excited too, that it didn’t diminish the love either of them had for his son. 

She’d woken up before Aaron this morning, which was rare in itself. He was usually up before the alarm, waking her with gentle kisses and his hand trailing up and down her back or arm as he pulled her from sleep. She’d spent some time watching him, enjoying the chance to see him completely relaxed. He’d looked almost boyish as he lay next to her, his face half buried in her pillow, his arm heavy over her waist. She’d eventually snuck out from his embrace, leaving him with a kiss against his forehead before she grabbed his shirt from her bedroom floor, fastening a few buttons as she walked to the kitchen to make them breakfast. 

“You needed your beauty sleep,” she says, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as he kisses her cheek, “Plus, it’s only bacon and eggs,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, smiling when he beams at her, “It’s not exactly a gourmet meal.” 

He hums as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, seeking out the scent of her that he’d never tire of. She always smelt sweet, like vanilla, with a hint of spice to it. Something that he’d catch in the air when they were working and she would walk past him, a soft smile on her face when their eyes would meet across the room because she knew exactly what effect she had on him. He could smell himself on her too, a touch of his cologne lingering on her skin from where they’d slept pressed against each other and on the shirt she was wearing. It was mixed in with the smell of her, and it makes him hold her even tighter, his lips against her neck as he kisses up towards her jaw, chasing the giggle she lets out as she continues to cook for them. 

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, kissing her cheek, wanting to have as much of this, of her, as he could over the next couple of days. 

She hums as if she has to think about it before she turns to look at him, their faces so close their noses bump against each other, “Eat breakfast,” she says, kissing him softly, “Go back to bed, have sex,” she laughs when he does, kissing him again, “Shower together. Have sex in there too,” she smiles so widely their next kiss is lost to a laugh, “Snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, have se-”

“I get the idea, sweetheart,” he chuckles, resting his chin on her shoulder as she turns her focus back on the food, “Sounds like an excellent plan to…” he drifts off as his phone rings in the pocket of his sweatpants and they both groan. 

“Please don’t say it’s work,” she grumbles, not even trying to stop the way she pouts as he digs his phone out of his pocket and turns it to show her Penelope’s name on the screen, “Damn it.” 

“Sorry, Em,” he says, as if it’s his fault, a hangover from his marriage and the ever-present feeling he was letting Emily down. 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “You should answer before she leaves you a colourful voicemail about how it’s her weekend too.” 

He smiles and nods, “Hotchner,” he says as he answers, stepping away, leaving cool air in his place as he paces around her kitchen. She only half listens, her disappointment cold and heavy in her gut as she plates up their breakfast, her hopes of a lazy day with her boyfriend disappearing with each question Aaron asks Penelope and each long silence that follows as she answers. By the time he hangs up, she’s sitting at her breakfast bar, one of her elbows on the counter as she eats. He kisses her forehead as he sits next to her, his right hand heavy on her bare thigh as he starts to eat with his left, “You’re pouting.” 

She scoffs, “Of course I am,” she says, smiling he raises his eyebrows in surprise at her admittance to something she’d usually deny, “We were meant to have a weekend off and now we’re going on a case. Unless Pen was calling to tell you about her plans for the weekend.” 

He squeezes her thigh, “No such luck. We’re going to Idaho, she’ll call you soon.” 

“See,” she grumbles, fighting a smile when he offers her a bite of his breakfast even though hers is the same. She leans forward and eats the food from his fork and then shakes her head after she swallows, “Our weekend of sex and food is all gone,” she sighs, “And now I’m going to have to pretend you’re just my boss and not my very handsome and sexy boyfriend.” 

At first, the secrecy had been practical. A tool she and Aaron used as they navigated the shift in their relationship from friends to more that allowed them to do it with no outside influence. No staring or comments, both well-meaning and meddling, from their friends as they settled into new roles in each other's lives. Then she’d started to enjoy it. She loved that their relationship was something just for them, untouched by the opinions of the others that she cared about more than she could admit even to herself. It’s how they found themselves ten months down the line, both aware that this was it for them - that they wanted everything with each other - with only Jack and Jessica knowing. 

It was getting harder to keep it a secret, the shine taken off of it now because she knew if they wanted to take the next step, to live together in one of the houses they’d circled in the paper on her living room table, they had to let their friends in. She knew they’d made it harder on themselves, that the secrecy in itself would garner opinions from their friends and that not all of them would be what she’d want to hear, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when she’d had so much time to make Aaron hers. 

“We’ll tell them next weekend at Dave’s,” he assures her, “Just like we planned.” 

She smiles, “I know,” she says, “Although I’d still have to pretend you aren’t my handsome and sexy boyfriend when we are on cases,” she winks at him, “I will settle for holding your hand on the jet though,” she leans forward and kisses him, “You have some of your suits here, right?” She asks, and he nods, “Excellent. That means you’ll have time to shower here,” she smiles as she pulls back, “And that means we can keep at least part of our original plan,” she sighs when her phone rings on the counter and she picks it up, blowing out a breath at the sight of Penelope’s name as she answers, “Hi Pen, please tell me you’re just calling to hear my voice?” 

Aaron smiles at her fake ignorance and kisses her forehead, taking advantage of as many moments as he can as Aaron and Emily before they have to slip back into Hotch and Prentiss. 

___

It takes four days for them to make any kind of progress. 

Four long days with very little sleep at the motel they’d been booked into. Aaron had snuck into her room each night, slipping into her bed and wrapping himself around her so they could both get better sleep. He woke her up each morning before he left, his lips against her forehead or cheek as he said he’d see her in an hour or so when the team would meet for breakfast. When they first started this they said they’d never sleep in the same room on cases, but it was a rule that had barely lasted the very first case they’d been together for. She slept better next to him, and she knew he slept better next to her, and any attempt to pretend otherwise had disappeared months ago.

She huffs out a breath as she looks at the boards they’d set up in the conference room, looking over the information again and again in the hope she’d see something they hadn’t seen before. All the victims were middle-aged women who had been found in an alley behind the only high-end restaurant in town. All of them beaten beyond recognition and left there like they were nothing more than the trash they were found lying in. The local cops had dismissed the initial couple of victims as escorts, women who they saw as putting themselves in a situation that could have been avoided. The third victim, a well thought of married woman with no links to that life, is what caused the step change in their attitude to the case, finally calling the BAU when they realised just how in over their heads they were. 

“I don’t think we have any choice but to send someone to the restaurant undercover,” Derek says, his arms crossed over his chest, “The owner’s lack of cooperation is making this more difficult than it needs to be.” 

“He’s worried about his business,” Dave chimes in, his brow furrowed, “More than he is about the bodies getting dumped behind it.” 

JJ hums, “Capitalism at its finest,” she murmurs, “So we send someone in who fits the profile of the victims, make sure that they draw attention to themselves and what? Hope the unsub makes himself known?” 

Emily sighs, her lips pressed together because she knows where this is going. She looks at Aaron and their eyes meet, and she knows he’s figured it out too, his jaw tight as he opens his mouth to refute the plan, something she knows he wouldn’t do for any of the others. The ability to just be her boss, and not her boyfriend, blurred by his love for her and his hatred of putting her in this situation. 

“I can do it,” she says before anyone else can suggest it, before Aaron can say it’s not a good idea, and her smile is tight when they all look over at her, “I’m the only one who fits the profile of the victims,” she forces a smirk when she looks at JJ, “You’re catching up though.”

“No,” Aaron says, shaking his head, “We don’t know enough.” 

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” she says as she turns to look at him, “Plus, it’s not like I’ll be alone. You’ll all be nearby, Plus…I have something I can wear.” 

He feels a flash of sorrow in his gut at the knowledge that she’d come prepared, that she always came prepared just in case the team needed her to play whatever role was required. He hates that he’s guilty of it too, that more than once he’s asked her to allow them to use her beauty and the way other people look at her to their advantage. 

“Fine,” he says eventually, “But you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with you.” 

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, her instinct to say his first name squashed in an instant as she remembers where they are, that the team are watching this back and forth, “Hotch-”

“It may work,” Spencer says, “If you were acting like a couple and the unsub saw you he might be intrigued. One of the victims was there with her boyfriend before he had to leave for work. She finished her meal and left out the back and was found the next day.” 

Derek smirks as he looks at Aaron and Emily, “Do you two think you could be a convincing couple?” He tilts his head as he looks back and forth between them, “I’m not sure I see it.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at him, “I’m sure we can manage,” she deadpans before she turns back to Aaron, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

He nods, hearing the question she doesn’t ask - are you sure this is a good idea - and clears his throat before he answers, “I’m sure.” 

She blows out a long breath and nods, “Then I guess we’re going on a date.” 

JJ smirks at her from across the room, “Will your boyfriend mind when he finds out you’ve had to be all over Hotch for an evening?” 

She’s proud of herself for not smiling at JJ’s question, or for not immediately looking over at Aaron and giving the game away. JJ and Penelope found out she was seeing someone a couple of months ago after they saw a man’s shirt in her pile of freshly washed laundry. She hadn’t been able to come up with a lie fast enough, Aaron’s ability to fluster her even when he wasn’t present second to none, and she admitted she was seeing someone. She’d refused then and ever since to give any more details but they teased her relentlessly whenever they got together for girls night, her love for her boyfriend clear to her friends even though she’d barely told them anything about him. 

“He’ll be fine,” she says her gaze flicking over to the man in question, “He’s a grown-up,” she smiles, unable to resist teasing Aaron when he was clearly already a little uncomfortable, “Plus, Hotch is a gentleman. He’ll keep his hands to himself. Right, Sir?” 

He stares at her, and it’s strange to think that a year ago she wouldn’t see the spark in his eyes. That she wouldn’t have seen past the glare he wore as a mask and see the mix of adoration and fake irritation lying beneath. It makes her grateful that he’s hers, that she had the privilege of being allowed to see what he hid from everyone else, and she knows she wants to see it for the rest of her life. 

“Of course, I will, Prentiss,” he says, giving as good as he gets in the way he says her name, an inflexion in it that makes her press her lips together to stop herself from smiling. The dangerous line of giving themselves away that they had walked like a tightrope for months getting thinner by the day.

They go back to the hotel to get ready after they’ve figured out the plan for the evening. Emily looks at herself in the mirror, her chest tight as she feels herself slipping into a role she’d played countless times before. She’s still messing with her hair and plucking at the material of her dress when there is a light knock on the door before Aaron uses his card key to let himself in. She smiles when she sees he’s followed her instructions to remove his tie and undo a couple of the buttons on his shirt. 

“You look handsome,” she says, smiling softly before she looks at her reflection again, blowing out a slow breath as he steps towards her, his arms tight around her middle. It’s a reminder of the moment they’d had together in her kitchen before they were pulled onto this case. She leans into it, into him, seeking the comfort she never quite found the words to ask for. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing her cheek before he turns her in his arms, his hands on her hips before they slide to her back. He watches her carefully, sees the tightness to her smile that usually only the memories of the things she’d endured, or her mother, could bring out of her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We’ll come up with another plan.” 

She shakes her head as she links her arms around his neck. She runs her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, “I’m okay,” she says automatically, shrugging before she continues, “We both know I’ve done worse, honey.”

He presses her closer, his palms wide and firm on her back as she tries to laugh it off, a coping mechanism she’d had for as long as he’d known her, “Em, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that with me.” 

It disarms her, her shoulders slumping with it, but she nods, her lips pressed together as she shifts closer to him, “Someone needs to do it, I’ll be fine,” she smiles softly, her focus on the lapel of his jacket as she picks off a piece of lint, sure if she let her eyes meet his she’d lose her bravado entirely, “Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

She chuckles and nods, stamping her lips against his, “It is,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “But, if we catch the unsub tonight we can go home and everything will be simpler again.” 

He kisses her forehead and then reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, “In that case, we’d better get going Agent Prentiss.” 

She shakes her head at him, her lips pressed together to try to contain her smile, “Lead the way, Agent Hotchner.”

___

She can almost pretend they are on a normal date. That it’s just the two of them focused only on each other and that they aren’t there to try and lure a killer out of his nest. 

She makes a point of holding Aaron’s hand over the table, of leaning in and whispering things to him and laughing at his responses, acting the part of the loved-up couple that they actually were in full sight of their co-workers. JJ and Derek were sitting at the bar keeping watch, and Spencer and Dave were sitting in a van outside with the lead detective. Every now and again she’d look up and see Derek smirking from behind his alcohol-free beer, his amusement clear as he exchanged comments she couldn’t hear with JJ. Emily avoids the gaze of her best friend, the curiosity in her eyes that looked a little too close to realisation for her liking, and continues to focus on Aaron, on the feel of his hand heavy on her thigh. 

As the evening drags on she starts to feel someone watching them, the familiar prickling on the back of her neck that had been almost permanent when Ian was hunting her down. She casts a glance at a man a few tables over. He looks away, but not before she can see how he’s looking at her, a way she’s been looked at since long before she understood its meaning, and she turns back to Aaron. She leans in close, her lips against his ear, “I’ve spotted someone who might be our guy.” 

Aaron looks over too, his grip on her tightening when he spots the man looking at her like she’s a piece of meat, like she’s there just for him to look at. “I see him.”

She places her hand on his cheek and makes him look at her, her eyes firm but tender as they meet his, a subtle shaking of her head that lets him know she has all but read his mind. That she knows exactly what he wants to do to the man they’d come here to find for even just looking at her. She loves him for it, for wanting to protect her from something that was truly nothing in comparison to everything else, and she can’t help but wonder when the idea of him protecting her stopped annoying her, when she started to want him to do it.

“This is what we came here for, honey,” she says, the gaze of the man in question burning the back of her neck whilst Derek’s and JJ’s burn into her cheek. She lets her hand drop to his shoulder, “We should go outside. See if he follows.” 

He nods, squeezing her hand once more before he gets the waiter's attention and asks for the bill. Aaron catches Derek’s eye on the way out, his hand on Emily’s back as they nod at each other, a silent agreement he and JJ would only be a few minutes behind them. When the cool air wraps around them Emily shivers, leaning into Aaron’s side on instinct, chasing the warmth he always had an abundance of. She wraps her hand around his and tugs him into the opening of the alley, smiling as she pulls him close. She boxes herself in between him and the wall, the brick rough and cold against her back contrasting the warm softness of him against her front. 

“What are we doing?” He asks, unable to stop himself from smiling, something about her presence that always brought it out of him. A balm to his soul that he thinks he must have always been looking for. She shrugs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulls him closer, smiling when he instinctively puts his hands on her waist. She nods towards the other end of the alley, at the man who’d followed them out and looped around the restaurant to try to cut them off. 

“Putting on a show,” she whispers just before her lips touch his, sighing at the familiarity of it, the comfort it brought despite the reason they were doing it. They lose themselves in it, his grip on her waist tightening as she sighs, her nails scratching at his scalp as she pulls him impossibly closer. They’d shared all kinds of kisses in the last ten months. Passionate. Soft. All consuming. Gentle and comforting and everything in between, but she thinks this might be her favourite type. Familiar. Loving. The kind of kiss she can see herself sharing with him every day for the rest of her life.  

She’s pulled from it at the sound of Derek shouting, announcing himself and JJ as FBI as they pull their guns on the man in the alley with them, still far enough away that they were never in any danger, his own gun dropped to the floor.

Aaron steps away from her as Derek handles the arrest, clearing his throat as he tries to act as if they hadn’t just been caught making out by the team, even though it was part of the plan. Emily reaches out and wipes her lipstick from his lips without thinking about it, a habit she only realises she’s doing until she’s pulling her hand back. They both look towards the end of the alley when they hear someone clearing their throat, and Emily sighs as her eyes meet Dave’s, knowing they are caught simply by the look on their friend's faces. The varying degrees of confusion and knowing smirks painted across them. 

“Looks like our couple here has a little explaining to do,” Dave says, his smirk only getting wider as Emily glares at him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily says, running her hands down her dress to smooth it down, the material creased at her hips where Aaron had been manhandling her. 

“Come on, Princess,” Derek says, his eyebrow raised as he puts the unsubs cuffs on a little tighter than necessary, “Even Reid could tell that wasn’t a first kiss.”

“Hey,” Spencer says, his arms crossed, “I’ve kissed people before.” 

Dave turns to JJ, “I think we solved the mystery of who Emily’s boyfriend is.” 

JJ hums, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “Pen will be delighted.” 

“Can I please remind everyone we are still on a case,” Aaron says, finally snapping back into Unit Chief mode, clearing his throat to try and distract himself from the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, “We still have work to do.” 

“Fine,” Derek says, cutting over the conversation, smiling as he hands off the unsub to the local cops, “But if you think we’re staying quiet on the jet home you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Emily sighs, her arms tight over her chest as she watches the rest of them leave, grateful they at least had the decency to give them a few seconds alone, “It just had to be Idaho,” she grumbles, “Couldn’t have been somewhere closer to home just an hour flight away,” she looks up at Aaron, smiling softly at the slightly shellshocked expression on his face, “This is going to be a long flight home. Think you can scare them into not asking any questions?” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close to stamp a kiss against her forehead, “But I don’t think I’d be able to stop them even if I threatened to fire them.” 

[batchilla]

The most married divorced couple - Chapter 4 - Coffee and Custody

Years of well honed instincts through gruelling training had Jason as a perpetually light sleeper. A perpetually light sleeper who knew, even in his sleep, that he was being watched. 

He opens one eye, slowly sitting up as he takes in his surroundings - his wife’s… his ex wife's penthouse apartment. Well, that told him who was watching him at least. Sure enough, peering at him from behind the furthest arm of the couch he’d spent the night on is a tell-tale mess of curls so like his own - and Mary comes scrambling, not around the couch, but up to sit on the arm. “DAD!” 

Every time. Every time, that single word reminds him that there is in fact good in the world, and that his baby girl might just be the epitome of that. She all but tackles him into a cuddle. “You're here!”

He tries not to wince. He doesn’t ever want her to hug him less enthusiastically - but last night hadn’t gone well, and becoming climbing equipment for his daughter did not exactly help his recovery. 

Jason hugs her tight “Hi baby.” he says, his head resting on hers.

“Mm not a baby.” she grumbles “are you stayin’ for breakfast?”

“If mum says yes.” He says, part of him feeling dirty over the manipulative tactic - but the truth of the matter always was that Mary had a higher success rate in campaigning for him to stay then he did. Something about those adorable little eyes, he suspects. Mary hms, tucking her head against her shoulder. 

“M’ glad you came Dad. I don’t want Mr Brett to be my new dad.” Fucking what? Part of him wanted to resort to old methods on this ‘Mr Brett’ with extreme prejudice. For sniffing around his wife and daughter, and for trying to take what should have still been his. 

“What's that now baby?” he says, trying to keep the growing emotions that were making him feel like he was on fire. She didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Mr Brett, he walks me to school sometimes cus I’m best friends with Jaxon and Riley and Kyle, and sometimes Mum walks me with them. They say its like a ‘carpool’ but cars don’t go to the pool, and the other day he and mummy went for a playdate while I was at grandpa Bruce’s and then Mum was asking how I felt about Mr Brett and I said he was so nice but that I don’t want a new dad and then she turned on baby shark and I got distracted.”  He takes a deep breath. He can’t get mad in front of Mary. Another deep breath. He realistically can’t get mad at all. He knows that. He had been divorced from his wife for four years. She was allowed to seek out … companionship. Had he? No. Did it feel akin to a betrayal? He knew it shouldn’t - but it did. She didn’t need to be lonely - and he didn’t want her to be. But he did hope that he’d somehow end up being the solution, not this fucking ‘Mr Brett’ asshole. Even then - companionship was one thing, but a relationship serious enough she’d mention it to Mary?

“Well, I’m sure he’s… nice, if your Mum likes him.”

“Mhm. Maybe you can say hi when he comes to get me for school.” “Speaking of school!” His wife's voice sounds from her doorway, loud enough to tell him she’d heard enough of that to panic slightly. “Mary, get dressed, you’ll be late.” 

Mary reluctantly separates from the hug, dragging her feet dramatically “Okay mum. Even though Dad’s here and he NEVER is, school happens every day and is super boring.”

“Nice try bubba.” she says, folding her arms and shaking her head. The second their child shuts the door - still loudly complaining about how unfair it all was, which in Jason’s opinion was psychological warfare, which his ex wife seemed somehow immune to, Jason turns to her. “We need to talk.”

She sighs “I guess we do. But not in front of Mary.” She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll have eggs and toast soldiers - you want some?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound less bitter than he feels as he watches her head to the kitchen.

“So, Brett…” He says, following her to the kitchen and grabbing the bread and putting it in the toaster.

“Charles Brett.” you clarified.

Jason had to physically restrain himself from laughing. “Charles Brett? Those are both first names. You’ve replaced me with a man with a first name for a last name.”

“I haven’t REPLACED you, you LEFT!” She says, indignant furry in her eyes as she whips around to face him, stove at her back. Jason felt his blood boil. Yes, he’d left, but he hadn’t wanted to!

“And then you wouldn’t let me come BACK!” he counters, trying to keep his voice level, but not managing it. 

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE!” She yells, tears in her eyes. 

“you fighting?” Mary asks, opening her bedroom door, tugging at the tie of her Gotham academy uniform as if it had personally offended her.

  “No sweetie.” they say in unison, as they shoot her reassuring smiles.

It doesn’t work.

She regards you both suspiciously, and takes her toast and eggs “please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always cries when you leave so please don’t fight now.” “What?”

“Please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always gets sad when you leave so please don’t fight now.”

“What?” Jason asks, glancing from Mary to you. You were proud that you’d raised an honest, headstrong young lady who had no hesitation speaking her mind. You did sometimes, such as right now, wish she did it a little less often around Jason. Jason who was now looking at you with a face you hated for how little you could read. He used to be an open book to her. Mary pulls herself onto the chair at the kitchen bench and dips her toast into her egg. “We got two names.” she points out to Jason. “Todd’s a boy's name.”

You sigh, and sip your coffee. She’d heard all of it. How lovely. 

Your baby girl looks at you, her hair in an attempt of a ponytail, her uniform slightly overlarge still, being early in the school year, both making her look so, so tiny. “What did dad mean? That you wouldn’t let him come back?”

You feel like you're falling. Luckily, there’s no amount of hurt, upset, or angry that Jason could be that would mean he wouldn’t come to your aid. “See cherub… Daddy didn’t mean that.” He says, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“I did… Well, I’m sure someone at school might’ve said, or the news… Marriage is supposed to be a promise to love each other forever … and I broke that promise.” Jason takes a deep breath.

 “What I did hurt your mum. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe she won’t ever. She doesn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “I said what I said because I was upset, but… It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

You offer him an awkward, tight smile. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you baby girl. Just that … being married wasn’t the best option for us anymore.”

“...” Mary leans into her Dads side, her face solemn and thoughtful. You have to avert your gaze from the pair, lest you start crying - or worse - forgive him. 

“Do you still love mum?” she asks quietly, and Jason opens his mouth, hesitating for a second - which saves him from needing to answer the question. Only to make the situation a million times worse for you. Jason looks to the door. “Brett?” he asks, addressing you, but his gaze not leaving the door, with a look in his eyes that reminds you of darker days. “Brett.” You confirm, taking a deep breath as you move towards the door. “You packed M?”

“Yeah Mum,” she says, grabbing her backpack and shrugging it on, wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist in a goodbye hug. 

“See ya soon Dad?”

“...Yeah, baby. Really soon. Promise.” He says, ruffling her hair. 

You open the door, hoping to do this quickly, before things get even more uncomfortable. Charles Brett is a shorter man, with brown hair, brown eyes, forever slightly unkempt and a had perpetually tired look in his eyes from being a single father of three. But he has a kind smile, and you like him. He’s … a good man. He’s not Jason, but then again no one is. 

“Charles, Hi.” You say, leaning against the door to bar entrance. Normally you’d invite him in, have coffee or let the kids watch a episode of bluey while you chatted if the morning was running on schedule. 

He says your name, but catches your discomfort before he says anything more, and his gaze moves past you, looking for its source - and he finds it.

“Oh, Hello - Jason, yes? The ex husband?” He asks, pretending not to know who he was, as if he hadn’t seen the many magazines and heard the gossip surrounding his incredibly public, if staged, infidelity. As if Jason, in his need to convince Roman you meant nothing, hadn’t publicly called you a bitch. Jason doesn’t seem to remember that at this moment, and you watch as he puffs up his chest in rage. 

“Yeah. You have an issue with that?” he asks, moving to stand behind you.

“And if I do—-”

“Not. In. Front. Of. The. Kids.” You interject, before it can go too far. 

“Have a good day at school sweetie.” You say, kissing the crown of Mary’s head, giving Charles an apologetic smile, and all but slamming the door and turning to Jason. 

“He’s a good man.” You growl. Because he is. And because Mary needs a positive male influence, and Jason hasn’t been able to be that. And because you are a little worried that Jason is going to use his alter ego to run him off. 

“He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong.” Jason counters, stepping forward. You step back, and feel the door knob press against your spine. 

“He belongs here if I want him here.” You reply, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah, well he doesn’t get to be my kids fucking dad! I’m her dad!” You cut your own angry response short “what? We’ve been on two dates. No one is becoming a dad to our daughter?!” “That’s not what she said” Jason says, folding his arms. “Mary got ‘married’ twice last week at recess and last I checked had two boyfriends and a girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. “She is not the leading expert in how adult relationships work.” Jason takes a deep breath. “So it’s not… serious?” You shrug. “It’s not … Look. We’re adults. We both have kids. We don’t have a lot of time for casual flings, and the kids get along so need to be protected. We are taking it seriously, but it’s early days.” He nods slightly, “I’m having bab’s look into him.” You close your eyes and exhale. “Jay…” “I won’t do anything unless I find something substantial.” he reluctantly promises. “But I don’t take chances when it comes to you.” You feel his presence loom closer despite your eyes being closed. You open them to see your ex husband’s hand lingering in the air a few centimetres from your shoulder, his eyes sad and longing as he stands before you. “Is he good to you?” He asks, the anger gone from his voice. “Can you… see a future with him?” “Why does it matter to you?” You ask. It’s mostly rhetorical. You know why, and really what you mean to ask without saying it in as many words… is if Jason feels he has any right to intervene if his search finds anything more serious than a questionable browser history.

“Why does it matter to you?” The words feel wrong against his very ears. His tenuous grasp on the cool facade he’d put up, which had almost begun to take a true effect, with those six words is utterly shattered. He feels his heart pounding, too fast, too hard, too angry. The pit changed him, in many ways. The anger had always been there. The pit had made it worse. He’d never once take it out on you. He’d sooner die. But it exists in him, clawing like a beast against the inside of his ribs. Why does it matter? Why does it FUCKING MATTER? It screams, it throws itself against his skin, it burns his eyes and boils in his blood. How can you not understand how deeply he loves you? How can you not understand that he’d destroy anything that wished you or Mary harm and delight in it? That if you hadn’t been in his life back then, he’d surely be on a very different path? How do you not understand? He turns away, tugging a hand through his hair, he cannot look at her in this moment, cannot meet those beautiful eyes, can’t bear to see the face he adores above all others contorted by anger. “It matters to me because I still fucking love you.” He says through gritted teeth, through the shame, the rage, and the hurt. “And because I know you know that,” He continues, stepping further back to pace the apartment - the home - that he had once shared with you. He hears her move across the hardwood towards him. Feels a hand on his arm. “Jason…” She says quietly, as if to soothe a wounded beast - and he wishes it didn’t work as well as it did. He wishes he didn’t feel like a frightened, pained, hissing beast. He pushes her away. Not aggressively - but a firm, nonverbal denial. “Roman fucked with our kid. I don’t regret what we did as a result. But love, he’s been in the ground for years. I know that it could happen again… But I don’t want to keep missing my kids' childhood because of that fear. If her safety costs us… then so be it. But I don’t accept that it will. I refuse. The only fucking reason I kept these-”

 He holds up the rings on the cord around his neck “Is to put yours back on your fucking finger one day.” He sits at the bench, his hands in his pockets so you can’t see his knuckles go white. So you can’t see his pain, or how bad what he is about to do scares him. “I don’t ever want to fight you. You know that, right?” He looks at you, and he hopes that whoever or whatever is out there he doesn’t sound as sad as he feels. He looks at her, his friend, his daughter's mother, his ex wife who he’d never truly seen as an ex anything, and he sees a woman who’s hurting as he is, but while he sees the solution to their pain as recovery of what was, she sees the solution as acceptance. She cannot help him. He cannot help her. But, together, perhaps, they can help their daughter. “I want you to know this isn’t just because of Brett. Though hearing Mary talk about a new dad did light a fire under my ass. I want custody. Shared, I mean.” He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be asking for 50/50. Please.” He looks at her through his fingers. “We make a good team. Don’t make this be ugly.” She sighs, sad and tired and hurting. “I think we’re both a little too charged to talk about that right now. Can we have coffee in a few days?” He nods. “Yeah. Yeah that works for me. I uh… I’ll call Alfred to send a car round for me… and you can text me the details?”

A week later, you find yourself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to return with your drinks. You try not to dwell on the fact that despite not having asked, you knew he didn’t need to to know your order even after all this time.  You shuffle the papers of notes you’d had your lawyer look over. True, you trusted him. You thought he’d be a good father. You’d still stayed divorced for a reason. “I have concerns.” You say ternsly as he takes the seat across from you. He’s cleaned up. You can’t focus on that. You have a little girl who needs to come first right now - and you take a breath to remind yourself that she’s just as important to Jason. “Figures.” He says, but his tone is lighthearted. “Part of me just hates the idea of seeing her less.” You admit. He just nods, without judgement, without making the point that he knows what that’s like, simply letting you speak for the moment. “And it’s not because I like having her more than you, but because… I cried when she went on her first sleepover and she’s my baby.” You continue, picking at the napkin dispenser absentmindedly. “But beyond that there are logistical concerns as well. I know your … various residences…” safehouses. 

“Are safe. But moving as often as you do…” At least twice a week as a safety precaution.

“isn’t ideal for obvious reasons. Not to mention… She’s smart. She’s smart and she’s nosey.” Jason sips his coffee “her father’s daughter” “Nosey maybe. Smart? Debatable.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I see your point though. We don’t want her to find out about the families… extracurricular activities.” You sip your drink. Sure enough, he’d remembered your order. Damn him and his perfect memory and his perfect face. “I’ve put some thought into it.” He reassures, and you nearly snort. Some thought? Knowing Jason, knowing his family? Several hours of thought had gone into any decision they deemed remotely important. You’d attended meetings, essentially war councils, while you were still married about the most minor aspects of their cover. “With my … schedule, 50/50 won’t be possible without her knowing everything, and she isn’t ready yet. But I want weekends, which I… we? Would spend at the manor. For stability.” “We?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jason gives you the same grin that had made you fall in love with him. Your stomach turns to a lepidopterarium. Damn him. “Well, last I checked Bruce said you were welcome at the manor whenever you wished… and if she was coming with you, it wouldn’t need to be a legal arrangement. Less of a paper trail is safer for Mary.” Jason says it matter of fact. Detached. Like he’s explaining a mission, not talking about his life, or his child’s. You know better than to fall for it. He runs a hand through his hair and winks at you. “Though if there needs to be a paper trail I’d prefer it be one leading to us again. I said some shit I shouldn’t have the other day. I apologise for that. You can keep seeing that Charles idiot - I was a prick about him, and his background check came back clean. But… I meant it. I fully intend to fight to get you back.” He stands to leave before you can process or argue. “So… See you Saturday morning?” he says not at all a genuine question, kissing your forehead and heading to the door, much like he might disappear after a one liner as Red Hood. You suspect it’s a strategy that works on cops or criminals - but is less impressive to his ex wife. All you can think to call after him is “SAYING THAT AND WALKING OFF ISN’T AS SLICK AS YOU THINK”

taglist @jasontoddproblems

@fic-over-cannon

@stormz369

[captn-duck-gremlin]

Well shit, since people like the thing i guess I'll continue.

Shit it needs a name, uh, eh, phasmo.. uh..

Phasmo hearts?

Phasmo Hearts~

Yeah, sure.

Anyway.

Getting on with it, so you have 4 demons or ghosts haunting you. I could stick to them all being demons or assign them a ghost type.

Ghost is a wraith (what a surprise). Gaz is a poltergeist. Soap... He can stay a demon. And Price is a revenant. (This idea came from when i was playing Phasmophobia with a friend).

Now in the daytime, they can't do anything. Can't bother you at all. Not within the first few weeks of being with you at least. They don't have infinite power, doing spooky hauntings takes a lot of energy. So during the day nothing is strange, but as time goes on theres very subtle things that do happen on the rare occasion. A normal picture you have hanging up, whether it be a family photo, poster or what-have-you. Every now and then changes to something you saw in one of the strange dreams. But the second you look away and look back, its back to whatever it was originally.

It's things like that.

Or you're mindlessly standing in your kitchen, trying to come to a decision on what to have for breakfast. And then the choice is made for you by either a random thump at a particular cabinet or by a cereal box "mysteriously" falling out of place.

And that feeling of constantly being watched slowly gets stronger and harder to ignore over time, you've learned to cope.

But remember your friends who were not as nice while exploring? Oh they're not having a good time where they are. No, they're getting the actual haunting experience. You just have undead roommates who seemingly like you more than they should. Now at the start of this all, you try to figure out what's going on, you try to do research, you talk to friends, you try avoiding sleep. Which they hate with a passion, don't avoid sleep, because they can turn your dreams into nightmares. But anyway, you spend too much time trying to figure out what's happening until the small signs become clearer. You're haunted. Do you try to get rid of them? No, you don't. Because you actually take the time to think it over. One hand, the obviously paranormal problem. On the other hand, they've.. haven't done anything too horrible. Yes, the nightmares sucked but that was your own fault and you talked it out with them (in dream). So with sigh you accept your fate. At night, you dream a weird life with the beings haunting you. At day, they don't bother you all that much. Of course the late hours of the day they have a bit of a chance to do things, messing with whatever like the tv, radio, maybe move something by a couple inches, make a thump somewhere around. You'll get used to it.

[sweetbillwriting]

The Key To His Heart - II

Description: As a hard working novelist and single dad hasn't Bill had much time for dating but gets an unorthodox chance to meet women when his friend persuades him to be a part of a dating TV show.

Characters: AU Bill Skarsgård where his life changes in 2013 and later 2019.

Setting: L.A, 2024 but in an alternative universe where Bill having a completely different life.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Bill's Guests:

Maria: Writer, 38.

Violet: Entrepreneur, 22.

Camila: Engineer, 31.

Victoria: Shop assistant, 34.

Sandra: Fashion designer, 36.

Julie: Model, 25.

Esmeralda: Model, 27.

Rose: Personal trainer, 22.

Odette: Pediatrician, 33.

Tiffany: Actress, 30.

Sienna: Painter, 28.

Brigitte: Chef, 29.

×××

“Why not?” Bill looked irritated at Herman, who had come in unannounced into his bedroom. The bedroom and office were those places they could talk without the camera team and the girls close by. Bill had just come out of the shower and dried himself with the towel without shyness. Even if it was Herman who had taken the liberty to walk into his room, he looked away uncomfortably when Bill let the towel drop to the floor.

“It's too predictable. The viewers will already know Camila is your favorite.”

Herman didn't let Bill ask her out for his evening date and instead wanted him to choose someone who wasn't as expected. Bill was really annoyed, he believed he would get to make his own decisions.

“Is this how it's going to be? Will you pick who I choose in the end too?”

“No, just that I will help you make wise decisions.”

Bill laughed unamused and pulled on a pair of dark gray boxers.

“If you couldn’t pick Camila, who would you choose then?”

“I’ll take a night for myself on the couch.”

Herman sighed deeply. Even if he knew Bill was stubborn, he hadn't expected he would start with those sort of childish behaviors.

Bill pulled on a pair of black loose fitting slacks but left his upper body bare so he could dry his hair without dripping water on the shirt.

“Bill,” said Herman in a parentified tone.

“Fine, Rose then? Is that okay?” Said Bill, still with attitude.

“That's a great choice, Bill! Then you can invite Camila for the group date.”

Bill didn't say anything, still annoyed that Herman decided who he would spend his time with. He had thought this would be a way for him to meet a woman and had forgotten that the first and foremost purpose of the circus was to entertain an audience. He was stupid for having forgotten that, but Herman had sold it to him so nicely.

When Herman had left and Bill had fixed his hair, he pulled on a white t-shirt. It was time for him to go down to the women, but it didn't feel as good now as it had done earlier; he felt dirty like he fooled them all.

×××

Bill looked at the girls while they ate breakfast. They had placed him at the head of the table so all of the women could see him eat his scrambled eggs. Discreetly, he looked at what they ate. Sandra ate an omelet, Victoria a big plate of fruit, Tiffany ate scrambled eggs just like himself, Maria yogurt with berries, and Sienna toast with marmalade. He gave Camila a look, and she looked back at him with a smile. She also ate yogurt, but as plain as it had been in its package.

He smiled back at her but sighed. He wanted to be with her, not Rose or anyone else; he wanted to be just with her.

“Bill?” Said Brigitte from the kitchen counter but walked up to him.

“Hm?” He looked at her a bit surprised. She had her mahogany colored hair gathered in a long braid over her shoulder. She smiled at him sweetly and gave him an off-white envelope. It had a red wax seal that reminded him of a Hogwarts letter but he brushed that thought away when he saw it was heart-shaped.

He gave Brigitte a little smile and waited for her to sit down before he opened it.

(Read out loud)

Good Morning! Today you will have your first group date, but it will also be the first evening date where Bill picks what girl he wants to have some special time with! Bill will announce what girls he wants to see on the group date and also what lucky girl gets to spend the rest of the day with him!

(Group date: Sienna, Odette, Camila, and Esmeralda.

Evening date: Rose.)

Bill read the part they wanted him to read out loud in a light, cheery way. He was happy right then that he still knew how to act because on the inside he boiled. This was not what he thought it would be. He didn't think his love life would be directed like this, but he just needed to hold up the facade; hopefully it would lead to something good.

“Ehm… I chose Odette, Esmeralda, Sienna, and Camila for the group date, and… I wonder if you, Rose, would want to see me tonight?”

Bill still had great acting chops, but asking a girl out for a date would always make him shy. He looked at Rose, who was still make-up-free and now a bit rosy in her cheeks from a hot shower. She got even more pink when he asked her the question.

“Yes, yes, of course!” She giggled a little but stopped herself when she realized the girls surrounding her were visibly jealous. Bill smiled at her, genuinely happy to see her excited, but by accident he looked towards Camila. She sat with her eyes low and dragged her spoon through the yogurt. She probably had believed he would ask her. He wanted to say to her that it wasn't his choice to go with someone else, but he couldn't; he needed to follow his contract, and it stated clearly that he couldn't talk about the production with the girls. He looked around at the other girls, some were disappointed, even annoyed, while others looked pleased. He looked at Odette, who ate a piece of pear with her fingers; when she turned to him, she smiled with her eyes. She was amazingly beautiful and reminded him of some actress from the 90s. He smiled at her because he was curious to know more about her, but even so, he felt his heart being weighed down by bad conscience for Camila.

×××

Before the date, Bill took his right to some alone time but also received even more information from Herman. He was already tired of his nagging. 

“The date will be a hike. The girls have received a letter about it. But Bill, I know you like Camila, but you can't favor her, and it's not okay to do anything-”

Bill spun around in his computer chair and didn't seem to want to listen to Herman. 

“Bill! Could you just listen? I get that you don't like the rules, but it is a TV show.” 

Bill sighed and stopped the chair. His head was even spinning, so he was a bit glad he could stop spinning physically. 

“Yeah, yeah. I get it; I must give all the girls time.” He cleared his throat and then turned towards the laptop on his office table. 

“And nothing… No kisses or so.” 

Bill didn't say anything because even if he agreed with Herman, he wanted to decide for himself what he would do. He didn't have a problem giving all the women attention and doing what they wanted, but Herman nagging him like a parent was just too much for his patience. 

He continued to work on his own things and tried to pretend he was alone, but the whole time his heart beated with stress by knowing the girls were spread out in his house and he could meet someone of them whatever he did. 

××× 

He met the girls invited to the group date on the porch. He had hiked quite a lot and liked walking in different terrain and weather. Today the sun stood high in the sky and made the air hot and dry. It would be a rough walk, and he wondered if they were prepared for that when he looked at how they were dressed. The first thing he noticed were Esmeralda's jeans shorts. They were short and seemed to ride up between her thighs while she moved. The next thing he noticed was Sienna's choice of shoes. Vans. Camila wore a tight black set that mostly looked good for taking selfies in the gym mirror. The only one who looked prepared was Odette, who even wore a bucket hat, ready for the hot sun. 

“Have you hiked before?” He asked them with a crooked smile. 

“I walk a lot with my dog, out in the forest and so on, but never like over mountains,” said Esmeralda with a laugh. Her energy felt really different from the first time he met her, and he thought to himself that he maybe had judged her too fast. 

“No… I'm a bit afraid of bugs,” said Sienna, a bit embarrassed. 

“Yeah, me too! I don't even like being outside that way,” said Camila and shrugged her shoulders. Bill looked at Odette, who stood and listened to the others. 

“What about you, Odette?” 

“Ehm, my family has camped a lot, and I was raised close to nature.” She sounded embarrassed, like the other girls’ answers were the right ones just because they were in the majority. 

“Yeah, that's cool. I guess you will lead the way then.” He wanted to encourage her because he liked a girl who wanted to exercise and challenge herself. Odette smiled warmly at him. 

“We can do it together.” 

Bill smiled back, and for a few seconds he forgot the other girls surrounding them, even Camila. 

They were given a ride to their destination in a minibus, and it was then he noticed some actual competition between the girls. It seemed like all of them tried to avoid getting into the car so they could be the lucky one who got to sit next to him. It was silly, but he couldn't lie to himself; he loved it. They were actually fighting for his attention. When Bill said a second time they could jump into the bus, Odette jumped in, then Esmeralda and Sienna. Camila became the winner, who got to sit next to him, pressing her leg against his. Bill was pleased it was she who won, and he took the moment to smell her spicy perfume and talk lowly to her about the places they went by. She liked trying new restaurants too, so when they went by one they both visited, they really spoke. Bill smiled big while talking to her, loving everything she said, but also how she said it. He loved her mouth and the shade of her lipstick. For a short second, he wondered why she wore lipstick to a hike, but it disappeared quickly when she laid her hand on his thigh. 

××× 

The sun was really gazing at them while they walked up the hill. He walked next to Odette, and they smirked at each other when they heard how the other girls complained. 

“Maybe we should give them a break?” Bill asked her. “And we can talk a little, just you and me?” 

Odette nodded happily. 

“There seems to be a resting spot up there.” 

Bill replied with a nod, then looked back at the others. Esmeralda pulled on her shorts’ legs over and over; Sienna seemed to have shoe chafing. Camila looked so warm she was close to fainting. 

“I think a break is a good idea.” 

“Yes please!” Camila said, exhausted, while the other girls nodded. 

They ogled him and Odette when they walked away and sat down on a stone by themselves, but it didn't seem like they had energy to do anything else than sit in the grass. Someone on the TV team talked with them, and Bill could guess they wanted to quit. He looked at Odette, who didn't look so affected at all, just a shiny forehead and nose. 

“You're a doctor, right?” 

“Yes, a pediatrician. I love it. It has been my dream job since I was a little girl.” 

“But isn't it hard? Working with sick kids?” 

“Of course it is. But…” She shrugged her shoulders and looked out over the view. “You can't stay in that. It's awful that kids get sick and even die, but they also survive, and I can be a part of that. I can make that change.” 

They were beautiful words, and Bill felt himself start to look at Odette in another way than before. She was that strong kind of woman, that sort who gives everything, every day. It was admirable but also really sexy. They continued to talk about her work but also places they had hiked or wanted to visit. Bill wanted to visit Oceania more, and Odette agreed. When they smiled at each other, they knew the other also thought about how it would be if they did it together. 

××× 

The TV team decided they would end the hike because of the girls’ state. It was disappointing that they couldn't survive a hiking trip, but he hid his negative emotions and looked at them with empathy. Esmeralda had gotten rashes on the inside of her thighs but tried to hide that fact from Bill, and Sienna cried silently because of her shoe chafing. Camila didn't say anything though, and Bill wondered to himself if she would have been able to continue, even if she was dressed in black spandex. 

They walked down the hill again in silence; they wouldn't go down the whole way, just to the highest place cars could park. It wasn't that long, but Bill noticed Sienna had problems keeping up, and he stopped to wait on her. She limped because of her foot but brushed away her tears when she saw Bill. 

“Are you okay?” He asked and fixed his cap so it sat a bit higher so he could see her better. 

“Yeah…”

Bill nodded towards a stone behind some bushes and, with a bit of a doubt, Sienna sat down on it. Bill searched through the pockets of his pants and found a bandaid. 

“Hopefully it'll help some…” he said and sat down in front of her and helped her off with her burgundy Vans shoe. She grimaced when he pulled it off her heel, and Bill looked at the wound. It was deep and bloody. 

“Didn't you have other shoes with you?” Sienna shook her head while she watched Bill put the bandaid on.

“I don't have such shoes.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I would never use them.” 

“Don't you work out or something?” 

Sienna shook her head. 

“Not really.” Bill nodded a little; he himself worked out as much as he could, so he couldn't really understand how she could function without it. 

Sienna stood up carefully but grimaced again. The bandaid didn't seem to make much of a difference. Bill waited for her, and together they walked down the hill. Bill noticed her focus was to just walk, so he didn't say anything, but if he was being honest, he didn't feel like he had so much to say either. Something with their chemistry was off. He didn't feel excited or curious walking with her; instead, he felt a bit annoyed. He liked hiking and being outside, but that had been ruined. 

“This is really not my thing, I would never do this kind of thing otherwise,” she said with a pained laugh. Bill smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders. 

“It's not for everyone.” 

When they came down to the minibus, a person in the team arranged how they would sit, so now Bill would sit next to Esmeralda instead. She laughed at how wrong everything had gotten and at how stupid she had been taking those shorts. 

“I've never worn them before but believed it would be cute!” 

Bill smiled amused at her. She really was different from the cocktail party. 

“They are cute, but maybe not for hiking,” he said, looking at the light denim shorts. 

“So typical of me to not be practical at all. Are you practical?” 

He pursed his lips for a few seconds before answering. 

“I think so? Most often, at least. I guess having kids... Do you have kids?” He realized he just took for granted she didn’t just because she was quite young. 

“Yeah, I have a son who will be four in December,” she said with a proud smile. 

“Really? What's his name?” His smile broadened; he liked the idea of being with someone with kids, who knew how it is. 

“Carlton. He's the sweetest. He's like a little old man—no drama at all. How are your girls?” 

“Ehm, the oldest is drama. I think she has inherited that from my side of the family. The younger one is a thinker. I think she has deeper thoughts than me if she could put words to them.” Bill looked as proud as Esmeralda, and the both of them giggled. 

His plan was to take a shower and a nap before his evening date, so he said goodbye to the girls by the stairs with a hug each. He had a better view of them and could see both sides he liked and disliked in them. Some of them made his cheeks glow pink. It was just one of them who took the liberty to give him a kiss on the cheek: Camila. Bill gave her a smile when she wiped her lipstick away from his cheek, but he actually felt less for her now. She wasn't the only interesting girl there, and he actually wanted to get to know them all. Camila was interesting and sexy, but the other women had other qualities he also liked. 

××× 

The orangery:

Bill: Odette is really interesting. She's that kind of woman you travel the world with, and I love the thought of that. Just do whatever we want. 

Odette: I think Bill just gets better and better. He doesn't feel shallow at all and seems to appreciate the real things in life. 

Esmeralda: I got too little time with him! I want to be closer to him, just me and him! It's frustrating to wait. 

××× 

The bed was too soft and his head too heavy, but he still needed to go on a date. Even if it was with a woman he looked forward to getting to know, he dreaded it. Two dates in one day was too much, but this was the concept. He should date intensely until he had fooled his brain into thinking he was in love with all of the women at the same time. 

Herman had told him he and Rose would go to her favorite restaurant, a quite simple Italian restaurant where he could eat a good pasta and share a bottle of red. He looked forward to that; he could use a calming glass of wine that would make him soft in his joints, but... 

“Oh, I don't drink.” 

Rose shrugged her shoulders. Bill looked at her with big eyes. He didn't care about other people's drinking habits, but right then and there he would have liked alcohol to calm down, but now he wondered if he could show his normal drinking habits to her. He couldn't deny he liked his liquor. 

“Can we share an alcoholic-free bottle?” Rose looked at the alcoholic-free part of the drink list, but Bill stayed on the red wine list. Would he eat a bolognese without red wine? 

“It's good for you; I know you work out a lot. You get better results without alcohol.” 

Bill smiled, strained. He did workout a lot but giving up everything good in life to have defined abs he would never do. Plus, he could have both if he just ate and drank in moderation. 

“I think I'll take a glass of barbera.” 

“What's that?” Rose looked through the alcoholic-free menu like it was a soda. 

“Red wine.” Bill pretended to be looking after the waiter but felt embarrassed for some reason. He felt like his alcohol consumption was something to be ashamed about. 

“Oh, okay. I thought we would share a bottle?” Bill dragged a hand over his jaw. He would sound like an alcoholic to her young, naive ears. 

“I really just want a glass of wine. The food gets much better with a great wine.” 

Rose nodded a little but lowered her eyes. Bill couldn't read her face, but he still felt ashamed for taking the glass, but he didn't want to give in and drink alcohol free wine because he would never do that otherwise. Even if his brother and mother lived a sober life, his social life often had alcohol in it. 

They ordered their food and had a relaxed talk about their lives and interests. It was nice; she was beautiful in her thin floral dress, sweet in her way by asking him things, but it was obvious she was younger than him. He also had become a father really early in his life, and it had shaped him into the man he was. 

“So you want to have your own business then?” He asked and took a sip of his wine. 

“Yeah, I hope to succeed with that before I am twenty-five or something, then work hard for it to become like a thing in Hollywood.” She smiled dreamingly, and Bill smiled seeing her like that, even if he had an important question that he must ask. 

“What about family?”

“Yeah, of course I want that too, but when I have the time.” 

Bill nodded a little. It was obvious she hadn't thought much about how their life would look if they were a couple. She would have kids to care about, even if she wasn't ready, because they came as a bonus with him. His daughters were eleven and five years old and were the most important people in his life. He also wanted more kids. He was 34, and who knows how long he needed to wait on her to feel ready. 

Bill swallowed his feelings down and took her hand on the way home in the limousine. She looked at him with stars in her eyes, and he smiled back at her, even if his emotions for her were really mixed. She was so sweet, but their values were so different from each other. 

××× 

The Orangery: 

Rose: He's such a good listener, and I think my mom would love him. He's just really humble and calm. 

Bill: It was good, a good date, but she's young! Yeah, I'm maybe a bit too old for her. 

××× 

The next day the idea was for them to have a long champagne brunch, and then the letter would come and drop “the bomb." The bomb everyone knew would come—he must pick a girl to leave his home. It was expected, and Bill had thought about his choice the whole night. There were actually several he could see leaving, but it was just one who would leave. The question was who he could see himself spending more time with. 

When he came down to the big kitchen where the caterers presented the food, he felt overwhelmed by how many girls there were again, and he actually thought it would be a bit nice to have one less. He couldn't give them all attention when they were all gathered and he felt torn and insufficient. 

Something was off though, and he looked around at the girls in confusion. Several of them tried to hide irritation, and he scratched his elbow uncomfortably. He wondered if he had done something wrong. 

He paused by the dinner table, but luckily he quickly got an answer from Odette, who came up to him. 

“Julie and Esmeralda have been in a fight. I think it was about Julie thinking Esmeralda is copying her?” 

Bill gave her a confused look; he didn't get what she meant. 

“In clothes and style and so on. They share a room, and Esmeralda was out shopping for some new clothes after we came back from the hike, and Julie thought she had bought clothes similar to hers…”

Bill dragged his hand over his jaw, covering a smirk. Girl fights could be quite silly. 

“Then I think it escalated quite a lot, so the production went in and stopped it.” 

Bill looked towards Esmeralda, who popped grapes in her mouth in an irritated way. Julie couldn't see at all. 

“I think I should...” He pointed towards Esmeralda, and Odette nodded in understanding. 

He almost got nervous walking up to Esmeralda, who looked so irritated he wondered if she would be mad that he bothered her. 

“Hey, can I sit down here?” He pointed to the chair next to her. Esmeralda looked up at him, fixed her face fast, and smiled at him. 

“Of course, Bill.” 

He sat down, leaning his arms against the table, and looked at her with big eyes. 

“What's going on?” 

“She's a Trump supporter!” She said fast and gave him a pointed look. Bill looked out over the room. It wasn't such a silly fight as he thought. 

“She's a racist, stupid, fuck! And says as stupid things just like him! I can't stand it, and I'm not the type of person that allows people say such shit!” 

Bill nodded in understanding. He was not a confrontational person, but he admired her for standing up for her beliefs. 

“I get you,” he said and nodded. “Sometimes you will get mad at people who don't know better.” Esmeralda looked at him thankfully and took a calming breath. 

“I shouldn't get so mad, but it's a loaded topic for me.” Bill nodded again and carefully took her hand that lay on her thigh. There weren’t many who saw him take her hand, but some did. Esmeralda hugged his big hand in hers and dragged her other hand’s finger tips over the back of it. She seemed to calm down, so Bill sat with her for a while. It was probably obvious who's side he had taken. 

Herman looked at him and then made a head movement to make him understand they needed to talk. Bill excused himself and then walked to Herman, who led him to Bill's office again. 

“What's going on?” Bill asked with furrowed brows. 

“Everything Esmeralda is saying is true.” 

“Then Julie leaves today.” Bill was determined; he knew his believers and also knew he couldn't be with someone with such different opinions than him. 

“You can't.” 

“Of course I can!” he said, upset, once again that he couldn't make his own choices. 

“No, we are not allowed to talk about politics.” 

Bill started to walk around the room with his hands on his hips. Even if his cuban collared shirt sat loose on his body, it felt hot and sticky. He hated that he had these rules. 

“But we have other footage...” said Herman carefully. Bill looked up at him. It maybe wasn't a big deal for others, but Herman knew Bill would react to Julie's comment about the portrait; that was also why it was hard to tell him about it. 

“She commented on the portrait in the stairs. She thought you would have taken it down.” 

“Of Kate?” Bill sat down in the computer chair.

“Yes. She called her ‘your ex’.” 

Bill scoffed and shook his head. Kate would never be his ex and a girl who couldn't understand that was the wrong girl. 

“Would it be okay if we had that in the show? In that case, we can make it seem like that's the reason you let her leave.” 

Bill looked a while at Herman. His plan was to leave Kate out as much as possible, but he also knew what her beliefs and values had been. If he were religious, he would have believed it was what she wanted. 

“It's okay. Yeah, do what you have to do.” 

××× 

The production had tried to play down everything that was happening, and Bill was given the instruction to act like nothing happened as well. He did his best even if he wondered what the rest of the plan was to get Julie out of the house. 

Maybe it was drastic, judging her for her political view, but he had two daughters and didn't want any such opinions to come close to their ears. He also had friends of many different ethnicities and wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes if he had a girlfriend saying things like Trump would. It may have been drastic, but for him, it was the only right thing.  

He talked lightly with Violet about the food when Esmeralda came up to him. 

“Can I talk to you?” 

He looked at her while swallowing the chicken that was a little bit too dry. 

“Sure.” They went out to the porch, and Bill leaned against the railing while Esmeralda hugged the pillar. 

“Something happened this morning, and... I thought you had the right to know.” Bill nodded with big eyes. He understood he would pretend to not know anything. 

“Me and Julie got in, sort of, a fight this morning about all kinds of things and like... She has some weird opinions; we have discussed things before, and... She said some things about your late wife.” 

Bill just stood and looked at her. Esmeralda's acting was okay, but he was great. He looked down at the ground and scratched his jaw uncomfortably. 

“I'm sorry for telling you that, but it's just weird and disrespectful that she talks about her like that.” 

Bill knew the team wanted it to sound like she had spoken about Kate even when the cameras were off, like that was what the fight that morning was about. 

“Thank you for telling me… Kate will always be a part of my life, you know.” 

Esmeralda gave him a warm smile. 

“Of course. I don't think any of us believed any different. And that's beautiful, anything else would be weird.” 

Bill smiled; even if they had been acting, the conversation was now completely real, and he got a bit emotional with Esmeralda's words, so he spread out his arms towards her. She happily pressed her cheek to his collarbone and let his long arms embrace her. Esmeralda looked up at him, and for a moment it felt like they would kiss, but she settled by giving him a kiss on the cheek that landed on the corner of his mouth. Esmeralda giggled when he smiled so big his dimple deepened. 

“We should hang out more,” said Bill lowly, believing the camera couldn't hear him, but they heard it all. 

 ××× 

The TV team had collected all the keys the girls had gotten, and now he would be giving them out again, but one less. It felt good knowing Julie would disappear. One less problem. The keys were laid on a red velvet cushion on a waist-high pillar. All of them were just as shiny as they had been when he first gave them out, but he wondered what they had done with them. Had they just been lying on a table or had some of them sucked on it or something? He didn't know. 

The girls stood in a half circle around him as the last time and looked at him expectantly. He took a deep breath before saying the first name. 

Esmeralda. 

Several of the girls looked surprised, and two of them were even upset. Esmeralda smiled big and walked up to him, throwing with her long hair. 

Odette. 

Camila.

Violet. 

Maria. 

Brigitte. 

Tiffany.

Sandra.

Rose. 

Sienna.

Victoria. 

It was painfully silent when all the girls except Julie had gotten their keys. Bill stood with his hands clasped in front of him and gave her an apologetic smile. She looked like she didn't understand a thing and then made a scoff. 

“Okay…” she said with some attitude and walked up to Bill on her stilettos. 

“Esmeralda is your favorite, and I must leave?” 

“I'm sorry… Should we go out and talk?” He said and did a motion to the porch. Julie scoffed again but walked towards the porch. Bill gave the other girls a quick look but also Herman behind a camera, then he walked out to Julie with a deep sigh. She was beautiful with her brown hair with highlights and super tight turquoise dress, but he had never been so shallow that a girl with awful opinions would get a chance just because she's pretty. 

“Wow, it was nice to get sooo much time with you!” She said, bitterly with crossed arms.

“I heard that you had talked about Kate.” 

“Hm? Who the fuck is Kate?” 

“My girls’ mother.” He talked a bit too harshly, but at that moment he spoke on behalf of his girls and became more upset than he would be otherwise. 

“Oh. I haven't said anything about her.” She furrowed her brows and shrugged her shoulders. 

“I know you have. Esmeralda told me.” 

The viewer would believe that there were other instances than the time by the stairs, while Julie just thought about that time. 

“Oh. It was nothing! I just meant you maybe should remove her from your life, a bit.” 

Bill gave her a pointed look.

“It's my daughter's mom, and if you don't understand how important it is that they remember her, we will never work.” He took a deep breath while Julie looked at him, upset but now with regret. After a few seconds of staring came a man from the team up to them. 

“Your bags are in the car, miss.” 

××× 

The Orangery:

Bill: I hope the other girls understand it's really different being a widower than a divorced father. Of course I want them to feel comfortable, but not at the expense of my girls. 

Esmeralda: I will sound like a bitch! Oh my god, I will sound like a bitch, but it's nice Julie has left. She was the bitch!

Tiffany: I think it's my turn to see Bill now! God, the other girls just seize him! Bill, it's my turn now! 

× 

[anjee0]

My Brother's best friend

Chapter 2 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Y/n stood in front of the milk fridge at the supermarket as she pondered which milk she should get. It didn't matter which one she did buy, Jordan would tell her that she got the milk either way. It wasn't even her turn to do the groceries, it was Jordan's, but he made his sister do it. She was already tired from her shift and now she had to do the shopping.

Y/n felt a small tap on her leg and looked down to be met with a little girl. She had short, blonde hair and big brown eyes. Her cheeks were stained rosy pink and she had a small frown on her face.

“Hey, sweetie. You okay?” Y/n asked.

“No, I lost my brother. I can't find him.” The girl responded.

“Oh, what's your name?” 

“Lily.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows when she heard the girl speak her name. She'd heard that name somewhere before but she wasn't sure when. It took a few seconds for everything to click when she remembered that Jimmy had a younger sister named Lily.

“All right, Lily. I'm Y/n. Does your brother happen to be Jimmy?”

“Yeah! How did you know?”

“I know him. Come on, I have an idea.”

Lily took Y/n's hand as they walked to the checkout area and approached a cashier.

“What are we doing?” Lily asked.

“You'll see,” Y/n responded with a small smile.

Y/n turned to face the cashier at the register and gave a smile. “Uh hey there…” She said, squinting her eyes to try to read the cashier’s name tag. “Rachel. This little girl, Lily, lost her brother, Jimmy. Is it okay if you can use your little intercom thing to call him over?”

Rachel groaned slightly and nodded. “What's the brother's full name?”

“Jimmy Smith Jr,” Lily responded shyly.

Rachel sighed and spoke it to the intercom. “Could Jimmy Smith Jr come to check out number 3? Your sister Lily is here waiting for you.” She said in a monotonous tone.

It was only a matter of time before Jimmy came jogging to the checkout to get Lily. He slowed down and raised his eyebrow when he saw Y/n standing with his sister.

Lily immediately ran over to Jimmy and hugged him tightly, with Y/n walking behind her.

“Hey, Lily.” Jimmy greeted with a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around his sister.

“Hey, Rabbit,” Y/n said with a smirk on her face.

“Y/n… thank you. Honestly. I got so fucking scared.” 

“Hey, language!” Lily called out.

Y/n and Jimmy laughed at Lily's response to her brother swearing.

“Lily, what do you say to Y/n?” Jimmy asked.

“Thank you, Y/n,” Lily responded timidly as her cheeks quickly became red again.

“No problem Lily.” 

“Uh, are you doing anything tomorrow?” Jimmy asked.

“No, I'm free. Why?” Y/n replied, smiling softly.

“Uh, do you maybe wanna do something with me tomorrow? You know, we can get to know each other more.”

“Sounds cool. Where are we going?”

“I'll figure it out. I'll give you my number, hold on.”

Jimmy took a small notebook (about the size of his palm) and pen out of his pocket. He ripped out a page of it and scribbled his number down.

“Do you always just carry a little notebook around with you?” Y/n asked in a teasing manner.

“If I ever get an idea for a lyric randomly, it comes in handy.”

Y/n took the paper from Jimmy before putting it in her pocket.

“Wait, so you saw Rabbit at the grocery store and he asked you out on a date?” Carly asked through the phone.

“Yeah, but it's not a date. He just wants to get to know me.” Y/n replied as she twisted the curly telephone cord.

“That's a date, babe.” 

“No, it's not. We established that over the phone.”

“You got his number?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, where are you guys going?”

“He's got the whole day planned out. We're gonna have breakfast at Chin Tiki-”

“Chin Tiki?”

“I know but he said that they have a really good breakfast menu.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know; I was surprised, too. Anyway, after that we might just take a stroll and then have lunch. Then we might have a little ride around town and I have a feeling we might have dinner as well.”

“Girl, that is a date!”

“He's just being a nice guy.”

“Yeah, a nice guy who desperately wants you to be his girlfriend,” Carly responded sarcastically.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, whatever. Okay, enough about me, what about you? What happened with Wink last night, I didn't get to ask you.”

“Meh, not much. He's cute but not my type. I mean, there's this one guy I'm talking to but-”

“But what?”

“He's really sweet and cute and caring but I have a feeling it might not work out.”

Y/n could practically feel Carly frowning on the other side. “Hey, don't say that. Everything will be fine. Who is this guy anyway?”

“I think it's best if I keep this one secret. I just wanna make sure everything will turn out fine before I say anything.”

“That's fine Carly. I understand.”

“Thanks Y/n.”

“Uh, listen, is it okay if you could do a favour for me please?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“So Jordan is gonna flip if I tell him I'm going out with Rabbit. Is it okay if you can cover and just pretend I'm with you?”

“Of course, girl. I got your back.”

“Okay thank you.”

They talked for another hour or so, catching up with each other and talking about their work before they decided to hang up the call. 

The morning rolled in as the sun's light rays shone down onto Y/n's face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes and tried to adjust the brightness. She suddenly remembered that she was going out with Rabbit today so she immediately got out of bed and started getting ready.

She threw on a simple skirt and a crop top, did her hair and makeup and went downstairs. Jordan was sitting at the table, eating his breakfast quickly so he wouldn't be late for work.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“To Carly's. We're just gonna hang out for the day.” 

Y/n tried to remain casual and calm so her brother wouldn't pick up on her lie.

“Okay, don't do anything dumb. I have to go to work.” Jordan replied.

He quickly got up and left the house. Y/n let out a breath of relief she didn't realise she was holding in. 

A few minutes later, Y/n heard a knock on the door as she ran a little bit too happily to open it. She saw Rabbit leaning his arm against the doorpost, smirking.

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yup.” Y/n replied, grabbing her handbag from the table.

As soon as Y/n stepped out the house, she could feel the cold breeze of the Michigan air hit her face and body. She started to regret wearing a skirt and a crop top but she was sure she would eventually adjust to the cold.

They wasted no time getting into the car and buckling up to leave. 

“By the way, I should tell you something.” Y/n said.

“Sure, what's up?” Rabbit asked.

“I kinda lied to Jordan and told him I'm hanging out with my friend Carly.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Jordan would get mad if he found out I was hanging out with one of his friends.”

“Well then why did you say yes to hang out with me?”

“Because you seem like a nice guy and I'd like to get to know you better.” 

Rabbit chuckled. “I'm not the nicest guy, but I guess it's nice you thought that.”

“So are you okay with me lying to my brother?”

“You can do what you want but it kinda feels wrong.”

“That's understandable. We can cancel if you don't wanna do this.”

“No, no. I wanna do this, it'll be cool. I guess we just gotta be… cautious?”

“Yeah. Cautious. We'll be cautious.”

Y/n immediately noticed how different Chin Tiki looked during the day. It looked like a completely different bar. The atmosphere felt more relaxed and calm compared to the lively and noisy atmosphere during the night. There was no one inside except the people working there and Y/n and Rabbit. 

“It doesn't even feel like I'm in Chin Tiki.” Y/n said as she tried to start a conversation.

“I know. It's strange, right?” Rabbit responded.

“How'd you even find out about this?”

“I was just walking around one morning and saw Chin Tiki open so I decided to go in. The best part is that the food is cheap and tastes amazing.”

A second or two later, a waiter came over to their table and gave them their menus. Y/n could feel her mouth water at the food displayed in the menus. There was a wide range of breakfast items from pancakes and waffles to toast and even cereal.

“Wow, I don't even know what to choose.” Y/n chuckled.

“I normally go for the regular waffles. It's simple but it tastes great.” Rabbit replied.

“Hmm, I think I'll go for that then too.”

A few minutes after they ordered, their food came to the tables. The waffles were warm with a crispy edge and a soft inside and middle. The golden, shiny syrup was dripping off the edges and to top it off a small square of soft butter. The waffles tasted sweet and phenomenal and the syrup just made it all the better.

“Damn Rabbit, this is really good. I should come here often.” Y/n praised.

Rabbit smiled softly, knowing that Y/n was enjoying herself so far. “You work at a diner right?” He asked.

“Yeah. Karl's diner. The one around the diner.” 

“I've never been there before. Is it good?”

“The food looks good. I've never eaten there though. I just wait and make the milkshakes. I don't cook any of the food.”

“Maybe I should visit you sometime.”

For the rest of the day, they spent their time driving around and taking strolls. Rabbit showed Y/n some parts of 8 mile he'd always gone when he was younger. Y/n enjoyed watching him talk about his childhood memories of him hanging out with his friends and writing lyrics with them.

The sun started to set and they found a rooftop to sit on to watch the sunset. The sky was like a canvas of yellow, pink and purple watercolours blending into each other as the sun disappeared into the horizon.

Y/n looked down and saw that Chin Tiki was open. The loud music from the inside sounded muffled from where they sat. Bright lights could be seen from shining through the windows and onto the pavement outside.

“Should we go to Chin Tiki?” Y/n asked, nodding her head over to the building.

“Why not.” Rabbit replied.

When they got in, it was more packed and busy than usual. People were in nearly every corner of the bar dancing, talking or drinking. Off to one side of the bar, there were a lot of people dancing together, laughing and having the time of their life— and it easily caught Y/n's attention.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” She asked.

“I can't dance.” Rabbit replied.

“That makes the two of us.” 

Y/n chuckled and grabbed Rabbit's hand and dragged him over. She put her hands at the side of his neck while he rested his hands on the waistband of the skirt. They swayed to the music and held each other closer as the second went by. 

What they didn't notice was Jordan and the other guys walking into Chin Tiki and taking a seat at a table. Whilst all the guys were having a conversation, Cheddar spotted two familiar faces on the dance floor holding each other close and swaying. Y/n and Rabbit.

“Hey Jordan, isn't that your sister with Rabbit?” Cheddar asked.

Jordan and all the guys immediately looked up and spotted Rabbit and Y/n putting their hands on each other and dancing.

Rabbit's hand went down Y/n thigh and slowly trailed down it. He picked her leg up and gently brought her knee to his hip. Y/n moved her head back as Rabbit moved his nose along her neck. For a moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room. When Y/n brought her head back, their noses slightly brushed.

“You're not too bad.” She whispered.

“You too.” Rabbit responded.

Jordan had enough and came storming over feeling engulfed in anger. He pulled Rabbit off his sister and pushed him on a table. Everyone in the club fell silent and turned to watch what was happening.

“What the fuck are you doing with my sister man?!” Jordan shouted angrily.

Rabbit quickly got up and brushed himself off. “I'm just dancing with her, man.”

“Dancing with her, yeah? You're putting your fucking hands all over her!” Jordan quickly turned to his sister and that's when she could really see the anger through his eyes. “And you! You said you were with Carly!”

Before Y/n could say anything, Jordan grabbed her hand and dragged her outside to the parking lot. Rabbit and the guys followed behind.

“What do you think you were doing?! Getting all close with him like that!” Jordan exclaimed.

“We were just dancing! Hanging out!” Y/n replied, even louder than her brother.

“You lied to me! You said you were with Carly!”

“Fine! Yes! I lied! Me and Rabbit bumped into each other at the store yesterday and decided to hang out.”

“Why?”

“We just wanted to talk and get to know each other better after we met the night before. Plus, we had nothing else to do.”

“So you lied to me.”

“You wouldn't let me go. And don't lie to me saying that you would've said yes.”

Jordan stayed silent and kissed his teeth. “Fine. I wouldn't have you let go but that's because Rabbit's my friend! You know how fucking weird it would be if my sister doing shit with my best friend?!”

“We weren't doing anything!”

“That little dance that you had sure proved something.”

“Why are you so overprotective over me?! I'm twenty fucking two, I'm an adult! I can make my own decisions, I don't need you dictating me! Gosh, you are such a bad brother!” Y/n shouted. She could her voice crack as tears slipped out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “I'm going home.” 

Y/n wasted no time leaving the car park and walking past the guys. “Show’s over.” She muttered to them.

As she left the car park and started walking on the pavement back home, Rabbit quickly caught up with her.

“Y/n.” He breathed out when reached her.

“Leave me alone Rabbit. I'll just make it worse for you.”

“Don't worry about me.” 

“I just ruined your friendship with your best friend. I'm such a dick. I should've just told the truth.”

“Y/n, don't worry about that. I'll deal with myself. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I feel like a slut.”

“You're not.”

“Really? Because the way I was dancing with you sure said something.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“Me too.”

They both stopped walking and faced each other as they looked into each other's eyes. 

“Look, I had a nice night,” Rabbit began. “And I know it ended really badly but I think I've never enjoyed hanging out with a girl this much until tonight.”

“Really?” Y/n asked.

Rabbit nodded.

“I haven't hung out with a guy like this in ages. I guess I enjoyed tonight too.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Sure.”

The walk back home was quiet and brought a comfortable silence with it. When they got home, Rabbit gave Y/n a small hug and whispered in her ear:

“Call me if you need anything, you have my number.”

Y/n nodded and shut the door gently. She changed out of her clothes and jumped into bed whilst wrapping the covers around her tightly. Tears of regret and sadness spilled out her eyes and fell onto her pillow. She tried to sleep as soon as she could as she had work tomorrow.

Eventually, Y/n fell into a slumber, her last thought being Rabbit.

[homiesexuallaj]

Request: Eric Draven (Bill Skarsgård version) introverted loner, meets Shelly who helps bring him out of his shell. Its love at first sight for Eric😍🖤

Pairing: Eric Draven x reader

Warnings/Genre: heavy au, fluff, rehab, troublemaker Shelly, Shelly makes you into a troublemaker, you and Shelly are like besties, shy Eric, reader flirts with Eric a tad, drug mention, mention of cigarettes

A/N: Okay yes I did read the ask wrong but in my defense I was blinded by the god of “x reader’s” and somehow my brain added that shelly introduced the reader to Eric, but hopefully you still enjoy it!

--- --- ---

You'd been in rehab awhile now. At least a couple months. You didn't have many friends, or any really. You had a few acquaintances that you got along with but no one that you had a true bond with.

Every day became the same for you. Shower, get dressed, breakfast, group therapy, afternoon outside time, lunch, one-on-one therapy, evening outside time, dinner, sleep, and repeat. It was tiring with no change. Until a certain duo started to cause some ruckus.

You didn't know who they were. The noticeable things were that they both were severely tatted up and that there seemed to be a whole foot of height difference between the two. The girl of the duo seemed to cause the trouble and disruption, dragging the poor, tall boy into her shenanigans. After getting in trouble for the umpteenth time, the boy disappeared and you came into view.

The girl, who's name was Shelly, popped herself right down at your table during lunch time. She had such a wide smile that her usual wide eyes turned to crescents. She twirled her hair as you two talked.

You two seemed to click almost instantly and Shelly quickly brought you out of your shell, dragging you into mischief. Mischief like sitting with boys Shelly thought were attractive, causing food fights, sneaking around after hours, escaping through the narrow windows in the laundry room, and giving each other stick-and-poke tattoos.

Shelly really did bring the troublemaker out of you.

Three weeks went by before Shelly's male companion was released from solitary confinement.

Shelly quickly flew back into his arms, dragging you by your hands. And here, you finally got a good close-up look at the man.

Compared to before solitary confinement, the man has black, crow-colored hair. Throughout the weeks here, his mullet had grown out, the tips of his hair curling up and peaking out from behind his neck. His eyes were a muddy green, brown flecks turning golden in the sunlight. His black tattoos were a stark contrast against his pale skin. And up close now, the man really was tall. So tall that you were face-to-face with his chest, his very broad chest.

Over the next few weeks of troublemaking, you learned that Shelly's male companion's name was Eric Draven and that Shelly often took the lead in troublemaking (with you being announced as second-in-command). Eric was rather shy and was often dragging in your's and Shelly's troublemaking. And he wasn't lookout, oh no, Eric was dragged down right into the middle. He often hoisted you girls up into places where your heights wouldn't allow you to reach.

At the moment, it was just you prancing through the halls. Shelly was off playing with one of her boy toys. You weren't looking for anyone in particular but when you came upon an open door on the second floor you couldn't help but peer in.

The room was messy. The mattress was overturned and the sheets torn off. There were papers everywhere, practically covering the tile floor, and a couple sheets of paper were thrown out into the hallway. In the middle of the room, picking up some of the papers, was Eric. He seemed irritated, probably because the care staff had ransacked his room. You shrugged, picking up the papers that led from the hallway and into his room.

"Well well well," You started, leaning against the doorframe. "What do we have here?"

"Oh um," Eric seemed to jump a bit at your presence. "Just some sketches."

You hummed, "You mind if I take a peak?"

"Not at all," Eric responded, swiping aside a couple papers so he could out his mattress right side up.

You flipped through your hand full of papers. Eric's drawings were good. Many were of the outside forest that surrounded the rehab building, others were of people around the common areas, and a few more caught your eye. There were some drawings of Shelly, mostly closeups like poses or while she was doing something nearby. The rest were of... you. Most from afar, drawn from across rooms or from different floors (as the angle suggested). The drawings were innocent enough, but one or two were you drawn in your undershirt and sweats with a hint of your nipples poking through the thin material. You blushed and cleared your throat.

"You like women with tight clothes, don't you?" You teased, watching as Eric put the sheets back on his bed.

Eric stood and looked down at your hand, seeing the slightly provocative drawings. He blushed heavy, spreading out across is cheeks and down his neck.

"Sometimes," He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

You only hummed in response and nodded, setting the papers down on a nearby table. You sauntered over to the taller man, causing him to drop his sheets that he was attempting to wrap around his mattress. You stood as tall as you could and wrapped your arms around Eric's shoulders, pulling him down to you a bit.

"What do you like to do for fun, Eric?" You practically purred, standing close but yet not close enough.

Eric looked between your eyes, nervous but there was obviously something else ticking in his mind. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his hands twitching. It was like he was itching to touch you but wasn't sure if he was allowed.

"I'll-I'll show you," Eric told you and made a motion to stand at his full height.

You pulled away from Eric and watched his movement.

Eric moved around you and peaked out the doorway of his room, looking for wandering staff. Once the coast was deemed clear, Eric grabbed your hand (almost on instinct) and lead you down and around the hallways.

The white walls twisted and turned. Wherever Eric was leading you, it got dimmer and dimmer. After another look around, Eric opened a door that he lead you two to. It squeaked loudly and you both cringed. Before you could have a look around, Eric pulled you into the dark room. The door shut behind you and you were befallen into pure darkness.

Eric let go of your hand and you could hear him shuffling around. He knocked into a couple things, cursing under his breath. A metallic creak and a groan were heard and the room was lit up from the ceiling. A ladder came down from the square opening. You stared at it, wondering what Eric had gotten you into.

"I'll go first," Eric muttered, already climbing up the ladder.

You followed a few steps behind.

Eric disappeared into the light. You followed and peaked your head up into the open air.

You were on top of the rehab building, rocks covered the entire roof. It was all flat, save for the three-foot-tall border around the roof to keep people from falling off. There were a few machines up here, like for air conditioning and stuff. It was all white up here, with the texture of gray from the rocks.

A tattooed hand interrupted your looking around. You followed the arm up to the face of the person. Eric was giving you an amused look. You rolled your eyes and grabbed Eric's hand, allowing him to help you the rest of the way up.

"So how did you learn to come up here?" You asked once your feet hit the rocks.

"The staff only come up here during certain times of the day," Eric answered, leading you to some metal duct-work that laid down on the roof. "If you watch it's not hard to learn their routines."

"Ah," You responded, now realizing how much Eric really watched his surroundings. "So this.. is what you do for fun?"

"Kinda boring, right?" Eric chuckled, sitting down on the duct-work and fishing a couple thin, white objects and an orange lighter from between the rocks.

"Why this?" You asked, avoiding Eric's question.

"It's just nice to get away from people sometimes," Eric lit the thin object, a cigarette, and took a hit. "It's loud down there. Out here is quiet."

Eric blew the smoke away from you and offered you the cigarette.

"No thanks," You held a hand up. "I don't smoke."

Eric nodded, keeping the cigarette to himself now.

It was quiet now. You couldn't help but side-eye Eric, admiring his smoking form. His long fingers kept the cigarette held in place, you noticed a slight tremor in them.

You could help but scoot a bit closer to the tall man, still eyeing him to see his reaction to you testing the waters. You saw him side-eyeing you back. You switched your eyes to the forest ahead, watching the swaying trees. Slowly, you leaned over towards Eric and laid your head atop his shoulder.

He tensed for a moment but relaxed, taking another hit from his cigarette.

"You're right," You muttered. "It is quiet up here."

--- --- ---

A/N: My askbox is open for Eric Draven! Feel free to drop one in!

[variousqueerthings]

i think a lot about how ray looks out for fraser and does a bunch of caretaking and protecting in s1 especially as fraser is such an oddity to most people around him in a way that, yeah, inspires some kindness, but also a whole lot of hostility, and also habitually gets into situations that could get him killed (and sometimes definitely would have if not for ray)

but fraser also appears to be ray's.... only friend? as of beginning s1? he invites hewey and louis and welsh along for a night in victoria's secret but that's wahaaay down the line and tbh i get the feeling that he was almost on his last leg when we met him in the pilot episode and gained a lot of goodwill after fraser came into the picture and they started solving cases that nobody even knew needed to be solved. and then there's presumably the occasional date + some past longterm, but ultimately failed, romantic relationships. and of course his family, who seem lovely and tight-knit if loud and argumentative in the way families often are (mrs vecchio i would kill for you), but they're all off doing their own things really

so there's "ray invites fraser out and suggests things to do with fraser because he likes spending time with fraser and it's good for fraser," but also like. how long was he on his own on the daily before fraser got there? who was he getting takeaway pizza with? taking out to chinese restaurants? going christmas shopping with? having casual breakfasts in cafés with? he clearly seems so thrilled to be doing all these things with fraser, really get the feeling he was quite lonely before his arrival

described ray as a mangy cat who gets one of those dogs they give to cheetahs to calm them down, like he starts out kind of crooked and angry at the world and without much of any hope for humanity, including himself (which, once we learn some Backstory makes perfect sense) and almost immediately upon meeting fraser he takes him to meet his family??? truly get the feeling fraser arrived like some kind of sip of magical restorative water and ray's just gulping it down

[bullet-prooflove]

Colt 45: Travis Wheatley x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @pear-1206 @keyweegirlie @nu1freakshow @trublu2u

Companion piece to:

Broken - Travis recieves a phone call from Rip regarding you and Malcom Beck.

Maui - Travis adds some extra security measures to your new place.

Travis wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of the an alarm going off in the kitchen. He’s on his feet in an instant, the Colt 45 he keeps in the top drawer of the nightstand fitting into his palm like an old friend. His heart thuds in his chest because it’s happening again, only this time he’s here and he’s prepared.

His thumb clicks off the safety as he descends the stairs in his sweatpants, his footsteps light on the stairs.

It’s only when he gets to the bottom that he realises…

The dog isn’t barking and there’s music coming from the kitchen.

He flicks the safety back on before he sets the gun on the antique dresser in the hall and steps inside the kitchen. The windows are open and there’s smoke billowing out from the burnt toast in the toaster.  You have a broom in your good hand and you’re trying to jab the button with the end, only you don’t have the dexterity because of your broken arm. Beside you Maui watches quietly, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he stares at you with adoration, probably because you’ve been sneaking him the bacon you’ve been cooking on the stove.

Immediately Travis understands what the problem is. You’re over encumbered. You’ve tried to make breakfast, not realising just how much your broken arm impedes you.

“Gina honey, let me get it.” Travis says as he takes the broom from you and uses it to turn off the alarm.

The wailing stops and for a moment there’s blissful silence as he sets the broom against the wall. When he turns around that he sees the expression on your face, he can’t tell if you’re crying or laughing.

“Oh honey.” He says as he folds you up in his arms. “It’s just breakfast.”

But it’s not just breakfast, not really.

It’s getting the shit kicked out of you by your ex-husband, it’s the nightmares that come with that, the recovery, the rehabilitation. He might not have finished what he started but he still took something from you, something you’re struggling to get back.

It’s the first time you’ve shown any real emotion about what happened to you. Until now you’ve kept it all locked up inside, you don’t talk about the bad dreams, the nights he finds you sitting up watching TV because your arm aches so bad you can’t sleep.

His palm smooths over your hair as he rocks you against him, cradling you close. If he could take that pain away, if he could bear it for you he would but he can’t, he can only try to bring you some comfort because this shit, it fucking sucks.

Maui whines beside you, his tail wagging as he stares up at the both of you.

“She’s alright boy.” He whispers, his lips brushing over your temple. “Our girl, she’s gonna be alright.”

Love Travis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[astrronomemes]

THAT '70S SHOW: STARTERS

a collection of my personal favorite quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 1998-2006 television sitcom, That '70s Show. change & alter as needed.

"Well, damn, [name], I can't control the weather!"

"If I could run across a beach into my own arms, I would."

"Yelling is the only part of being a father that I enjoy."

"What did you eat for breakfast? Carnation Instant Bitch?"

"Why do you think the Martians won't land here? Because they're green, and they know people are going to make fun of them."

"It's every little girl's dream to get married out of spite!"

"We keep our Christmas decorations down there! Baby Jesus was watching!"

"If this van's a-rockin'... we're in there, doing it."

"Well, I'd like to help, but not as much as I'd like not to."

"Anyone else feel like a rainbow?"

"My heart aches with pain. When I see you, I vomit. Die away from me."

"The beautiful cannot be held responsible for the havoc our looks create."

"My foot is shaking, it wants to kick his ass so bad!"

"Just once, I want the right thing and the topless thing to be the same thing!"

"If you don't get caught, everything is legal."

"I am not drunk! I am upset! ...And drunk."

"Where Zen ends, ass-kicking begins."

"Life is too short to spend it with people who annoy you."

"I'm a hot-looking, smooth-talking, frisky-ass son of a bitch."

"[Name], get in the car. We're going on a freaking date."

"When I go to the hospital, I like to not die."

"Crack a book, you lazy son of a bitch."

"If you really do love her, there's only one thing to do, man. You got to dump her, and live free."

"I'm going to go out, meet some boys, and crush their hearts one by one."

"I'm like ketchup. I go good on everything."

"I was never happy. I was just less pissed off."

"So that's what an adulteress is! I always thought it was a tiny adult."

"For your information, I'm already sorry I was ever born."

"What are you gonna put on your résumé? Dumbass?"

"I'd get up, but my back is still sore from that knife you stuck in it."

"I don't want to go outside! There are people out there!"

"I cannot be held responsible for the things that come out of my mouth!"

"Oh, no. Now I have to act normal."

"You can hit him in the groin with a banjo."

"Well, I've got to go to sleep, because I have a big day of misery ahead of me tomorrow."

"I don't need another friend. I've already got two."

"Seeing you work hard and take pride in what you do... I lost respect for you, man."

"I wanted to get you a card, but they don't have one for our specific situation. So, here — happy first communion."

"I could kill you without making a sound."

"I can't go outside. I'm allergic to pollen. And social situations."

[mrschristensen]

Yesss that’s absolutely fine can’t wait to read it 😁😁😁

Conflicted

(link to og ask)

WARNINGS: eventual smut/porn w plot (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), female s/o, threesome (the boys aren’t dating each other tho cuz INCEST), unprotected sex (piv), dp (double penetration), praise, degradation, name calling (slut), a bit of worship, oral/facefucking (m receiving), brief tit and pussy slapping, brief nipple play, a bit of aftercare, lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: The twins take their best friend on a trip with their family, and end up confessing things that weren't wanted to be said.

-> note: Scott still does have sexual trauma, but it was with his aunt (who they now have a restraining order against). I’m so sorry this took so long!

WC: 1,922 words

Sam and Scott were going on a trip to Maine; their grandparents had owned a house there and they handed it down to their parents, so now they used it as a vacation home whenever they were going up there for a bit. This time, though, they wanted to bring an extra guest.

"Morning, mom," Scott said as he came down the stairs from his room. Sam was already in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal. It was rare to see him actually eating elsewhere besides his own room, but his excuse was he "just felt like it."

"Hi, sweetie," she responds lovingly as she makes herself some waffles, "what do you want for breakfast?"

"Uhm... I'll just have some cereal," he decides, grabbing the box and pouring some into a bowl he fetches as well.

The silence was deafening, and all it did was create a slight tension in the room. "Mom..." Scott starts, and he looks at Sam, raising his eyebrows at him. They discussed this last night, wanting to ask to bring their best friend (and crush) along with them, but they never really came to a final thought. Sam shook his head quickly, but stopped and continued eating his food normally when their mother turned around.

"Yes?" she said. "What is it?"

He hesitates for a minute, wondering if he should give into not asking like his brother wanted him to, but he decided to ask anyways, being the asshole he is. "...Can our friend come with us to Maine?"

Sam groaned, slamming his head onto the island in frustration, which earned him a silently scolding look from his mother. He was fucked as soon as Sam could get him alone.

"The one that dresses like you?" she asks, to which he nods. "...Well, we all like her and enjoy her company. So, to be honest, I don't see why not."

Scott's eyes widened in surprise, and Sam's head shot up, his expression one of pure shock too. "What?" their voices rung out through the kitchen.

"A thing at work popped up, emergency, so I can't go with you guys. However, I'd be more than happy if she went with you both, so then you'll have someone else to hang out with. I was going to invite her anyways."

They certainly didn't see that coming.

That’s how they ended up loading up their mom’s van with their bags, waiting for her to show up. Their hearts pounded in their ears, the tension only heightening with each passing second.

And then she showed up, wearing a simple sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was going to be a long ride, so it made sense why she’d want to dress comfortable. But all it did was make their cocks harden in their pants. They thought she looked good in anything; she could wear a potato sack and they’d still get aroused.

“Hey, guys,” she greets as she carries her bags with her, gently putting them on the ground to return the hugs they immediately gave her. They were acting like they were little kids on Christmas with how excited they were.

“Hey,” Sam said, ruffling her hair a bit playfully. “You excited?”

“You should be,” Scott chimed in, “the place we have in Maine is huge. We got jet skis and kayaks for the lake, we got a shit ton of games… It’s gonna be so fuckin’ fun.”

"I bet," she responds as she puts her bags in the back, the twins following suit with theirs. Sam couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt; she might just think of them as friends, but they wanted something more. What if they completely screwed up if they told her, and that their friendship was ruined?

Scott felt the sudden tension from his brother, since they're pretty much involuntarily synced, and elbows him lightly. They both lock in a stare, and immediately, Scott knows what he's thinking about. "It'll be fine, man," he whispers to his brother.

"Are you sure about that?" he murmurs back, hoping it didn't seem suspicious. However, he felt a bit of relief since she was already opening the door and getting in the car. "I just... I don't know about this, dude."

"We at least gotta try," Scott says, "because we'll never know if we don't. You know she ain't gonna make the first move if she does feel the same."

Sam nods a little, "I know, I know. I guess we can try... I at least wanna stay friends. But what if she doesn't wanna?"

He sighs. "Then we'll just have to live with that. Somehow."

The both of them just decide it's probably the best that they stop talking, and they both get in the car as well. They weren't going to get anywhere just sitting there with their dicks painfully hard.

Once they got there, they settled in, unpacking their things and chilling out on the couch. The place was massive, and they took pride in it as they saw how awestruck she was. They were right on the water, too, which made it even more of a beautiful area.

"I wanna go for a quick swim," she states, getting up from the couch, "you two can come if you want. Then we can watch a bunch of horror movies when I get back, like we wanted."

They nod, and Scott looks over the couch. "I'll come," he says, turning off whatever random movie they put on.

Sam only took the initiative, feeling a little bit of jealousy, "I'll come too."

And so they all changed into swimwear, and the twins couldn't help but stare as they saw her in a black bikini. She smirked, rolling her eyes playfully. "Like what you see?"

They snapped out of their trance, their faces flushing a bit in embarrassment. They were way too alike sometimes.

She chuckled, "I'm just fucking with you guys."

They made their way to the dock, and she was the first jump in, emerging a few seconds later and moving her hair away from her face. "C'mon, you chickens!" she called out. "The water's perfect."

Sam looked at his brother, who simply shrugged, before following suit and jumping in. Coming up a few seconds later, he gestured for Sam to join them. He sighed, rolling his eyes before doing the same.

Eventually it became a warzone, all of them splashing water at each other and laughing. It was perfect, the addition of the sunset making the moment even more memorable, and Sam couldn't hold it in anymore. As she sent water towards him, he went under, popping up right in front of her.

His blue-grey eyes locked on hers, and they both just looked at each other for a moment before he cupped her face and kissed her passionately. Surprisingly, she was kissing back. Thank god, that would've been awkward.

Scott, for one, was shocked. Wasn't Sam literally the one that was reluctant to do this in the first place a few hours before? However, he didn't object to the idea, making his way over to the two. He put himself behind her, grabbing her hips and kissing her neck.

She moaned a bit into the kiss as she got double the attention, wrapping her arms around Sam's neck as their tongues danced.

He picked her up while still kissing her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her inside, Scott following the two eagerly. They were in for a wild ride.

They laid a towel on the bed, and put her down on top of it, taking a second to just admire her there. Her hair was fanned out above her head, as if it were a halo, and she was panting for air she was trying to regain from the heated kiss. They made quick work of removing their swimwear, and soon all three of them were naked.

They couldn't even believe this was happening right now, but she wasn't objecting to anything, so they took it as the hint that she wanted this just as much.

"Jus' tell us if it's too much, mkay?" Sam murmurs, to which she nods in response.

She then looks over at Scott. "Are you sure about this, Scotty?" she asks, "I don't want you to force yourself-"

"I've never wanted anything more in my entire life," he cuts her off. "I'm okay. Trust me."

He then then grabbed her hips, bringing her to the edge of the bed, his cock right at her entrance. "I'm goin' first."

Sam rolled his eyes and got on the bed above her, tapping the fat head of his dick to her lips. "Kiss."

She obeyed, giving little kisses to his tip like she were worshipping him. He smirked, satisfied. "Good girl... gonna have to make you worship me a lot more often. Lick."

She once again complied, kitten licking the throbbing head. He sighed in content, watching her submit to him as Scott pushed inside her.

She gasped, her head tilting back a bit so now her nose was touching Sam's tip, and he slapped her breast, making her cry out. "I didn't tell you to stop, slut," he growls, and she immediately goes back to kissing and licking, to which he hums in approval. "There y' go. Good fuckin' girl."

Scott set an unimaginable pace, barely giving her time to adjust. He just fit so perfectly, how could he resist? "Oh my fuck, Sam. You're gonna love this pussy just as much as I am," he grunted, "fit so nicely. She was so made for us."

"Yeah?" he says to his brother, before giving her another command. "Open."

She opens her mouth, and he slides inside, ignoring her tiny gag and he thrust into her throat. "Oh wow, baby. You're a fuckin' natural. Takin' us like a pro."

"I'm gonna cum!" she whimpered, though it was muffled because she had Sam's cock stuffed down her throat. They could make out what she said, though, and Scott only sped up, even though it felt like he was already at maximum speed.

"C'mon, cum for us," Scott coaxed, moving his hand to give little slaps on her clit, amplifying her pleasure. At the same time, Sam pinched both her nipples while still fucking her face, sending her over the edge and squirting all over Scott's cock.

He groaned and followed shortly after, shooting ropes of his hot seed inside her, her walls milking him for every last drop. Sam came at the same time as his brother, ironically, releasing his cum into her mouth and pulling out shortly after. "Show me," he commands, to which she sticks her tongue out, his seed on her tongue and in her mouth. He hums in content, smirking, "Swallow." She complies, and he leans down to kiss her.

Scott had a smug smirk on his face, too, pulling out to admire his work and watch his cum drip from her greedy hole. "Let's switch."

After a long, intense night, the three of them cuddled under the sheets, her in the middle, Scott in front of her and Sam behind her.

"...I love you guys," she whispers, still overstimulated from all the rounds they had.

Sam smiles, kissing her cheek from behind. "I love you too."

"And I love you too," Scott adds, not wanting to give his brother the upper hand, kissing her forehead.

She smiles to herself, "So, are we're like... dating now?"

"Well, duh," Sam responds, putting his chin on her head. "Just not dating... each other, y'know."

Scott nods in agreement. "But we're gonna have to get used to sharing, then."

Sam smirks a bit, "I'm fine with that."

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! <3

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 23 On Cloud Nine

(730ish words of Shadowbringers and a Good Girl)

The stables in their stone home were very comfortable. The stablehands were friendly, there were plenty of adventurers and their mounts to meet—not always chocobos, but no accounting for taste. Great care was taken with the food and water, and there was no shortage of gysahl greens, krakka, or curiel roots. There were toys of all kinds, and a nice little meadow cleared out and reclaimed from the Gloomy Place’s blasted grounds for playtime.

Snowlight was at least content for the moment.

Some of the Scions would come to visit. The small ladies when they could, though they were Very Important And Busy. But the Bow Lady took Snowlight on rides around the lake, or up into the foothills leading toward the Frozen Place. She would let Snowlight gallop as fast as she could while the Bow Lady practiced firing from Snowlight’s back, and that was a lot of fun! They even tried flying a little when she did it, and Snowlight was very careful to not drop her person’s comrade.

Her person had asked Snowlight to wait patiently and be helpful to her friends. She had called Snowlight a good girl and kissed her beak and promised she wouldn’t be long, but wouldn’t be able to call to Snowlight where she had to go.

Snowlight had kweh’d and cuddled her person, who was worried about her friends, sleeping too still. Especially the Sneaky Man; her person liked him the most. And that was all right; he knew how to give proper scritches and what treats were best, and made her person happy. So Snowlight wanted him to wake up, along with the rest of the sleepers. They were all very nice and friends with Snowlight, too.

Her person had left some time ago, and the days turned to weeks turned to moons. Snowlight would have been more concerned, except for the pixie that visited her dreams, crooning about what a pretty bird she was and that her person was just fine.

It had been awhile since the pixie's last visit, though.

The day was like any other; gloomy aether filling the air and obscuring the sun. The stablehands stumbled in early regardless, yawning and joking, making sure everyone had breakfast and water. They took turns letting out some of the long term residents to muck out their stalls, a few adventurers coming to claim their companions. The small friend with the cat-ear hood came to visit Snowlight. She seemed very tired, and Snowlight wished she would get more rest. But she offered treats, and helped the stablehands lead Snowlight out with some others to the meadow to play. She had to leave after that, but that was fine, Snowlight was busy asserting her dominance at kickball against some sprout adventuring birds.

She had almost won when she stopped still on the field, the other chocobos cheering and fluttering as they scored. But the familiar pressure had suddenly returned, like one’s ears popping during a change in altitude.

She trembled, talons flexing into the dirt. Could it be…?

The whistle called to her, and she kweh’d joyously, using its signal and bit of crystal, joined to her own aether, to teleport.

Snowlight was hardly in the River at all when she popped back into the world, in the shadow of the Tower on the other side of the lake. Her person smiled brightly—and then oofed as Snowlight headbutt her in excitement, wings flapping wildly.

“I missed you, too!” her person laughed, burying her face in Snowlight’s feathery neck. There were strange scents and sensations from her person, indicating Things Had Happened. It was very odd that there was a whiff of the Sneaky Man among the new smells, when Snowlight was certain he still slept in the stone house, but she could figure that out later, what mattered now was that Snowlight’s person had returned!

Not like last time. This person had kept her promise.

“Let’s go, Snowlight. I’ve much to tell the others,” her person said, swinging up onto Snowlight’s back, even without a saddle or bridle. She scritched Snowlight’s neck in just the perfect way.

Snowlight kweh’d an agreement and took off—carefully!—for the stone home on the other shore. Her person hugged onto her back and it was the best thing ever, this was the best day ever.

Her person was home!