#Atlantic and Missing Limbs really sat with me

[melit0n]

So, for all the time that I've listened to Sleep Token (been a hot minute now, jeeze) there have been three songs that I have avoided like the plague; Atlantic, Fall for Me and Missing Limbs. I haven't been avoiding them because they're bad, not at all, but because the first time I listened to them, they brought out a Hell of a lot for me. Never in my life had I had a song, let alone three, do that to me, so, I avoided them. Distraction and WTBB cause me enough pain, and these three inch out of the boundary for songs that just push me over the edge.

Even when I did my massive SFX post, I kind of zoned out when I listened to them, mainly focusing on little sounds rather than lyrics and breakdowns. In a weird way I dreaded listening to them again just because. Plus, one of my first ST posts on here is a clip of Fall for Me, which I heard, had to sit down for a minute at, posted it, and refused to look at again (bear with me here I know I'm sounding disastrously dramatic and overly sensitive).

So, today, I decided to take a little re-listen. And Christ Almighty I need a minute. Atlantic had my lying down on my floor having to take a moment, Fall for Me took me right back to one of my first relationships and Missing Limbs had me contemplating how I've loved and been loved. What the fuck man. You all will definitely be getting a little lyric analysis soon, but, here are some of my favourites so far;

- "Eyes like frozen planets, just orbiting the vacuum I am"

- "Flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing"

- "Echoing futures are the buckling sutures, that hold shut the wounds of the past"

- "Slowly I remember why I cannot pretend, that I never think of you and all this screaming silence; oh God I wish you were here"

- "The outer rounds of heaven don't keep up on the charm offensive anymore"

- "To swallow my desire and choke on it"

- "The blessings rain on battles in the heaven's arms"

- "I live like I've got missing limbs for you"

Like. Pen game is on POINT.

[jikyuz]

best teacher ever ✰ c. hyunsuk (m)

✦ pairing: slight dom!hyunsuk x gn!reader ✦ watch out for: making out, praise, innocent!reader ✦ words: 2.1k ✦ a/n: this was actually really fun to write ;-; i hope i did your request justice and that you like it sweetheart !! feedback is always appreciated as always !! ✦ listen to while reading: slow down by chase atlantic

The soft blanket was snug around your figure, almost lulling you into sleep but you fought against it. The night was young, it was right after sunset and the thought of missing out on quality time with Hyunsuk made you frown.

The date had been set, activities planned and schedules almost cleared. Of course he had practice during the day but he had promised to be right over when he was done. It was always a mystery as to when exactly they got done but it averaged a bit after sunset so you sat staring between the show on the TV and the door, hoping just looking at it will manifest your boyfriend.

Obviously, it didn’t, but when you got a text from Hyunsuk saying he was on his way to your place and to get the movies ready, you sprung up from the couch, throwing the blanket behind you and grabbing the remote and going into Netflix. Recently you had gone through the movies and picked out a few for the date night, putting them on a watch later list. Pulling that up, you wrapped yourself in the blanket once more.

As you scrolled through the list, reading descriptions and mentally debating with yourself over which one you wanted to watch first, you heard footsteps approach your door along with the jingle of a key in the lock.

It was less than a second before you saw the familiar mess of dark hair, his padded jacket nearly making him disappear but you noticed the tint of red on the tip of Hyunsuk’s nose as he took off his shoes and the jacket, revealing another jacket underneath. While he removed that one, you stood up, making your way over to him and slipping yourself into his arms wordlessly.

Although his skin was chilly to the touch, his chest was warm so you buried your face into the fabric of his shirt, smiling when you felt his hands rest on your back. His fingers rubbed your muscles and you signed in satisfaction, enjoying the jolt of electricity that passed through your limbs.

“I missed you, baby.” Hyunsuk’s voice was quiet and if you weren’t right there you were sure you wouldn’t hear it.

“I missed you more, Hyunsuk.” Pulling away just enough to see his face, you giggled at the way the tip of his nose was bright red as well as the tips of his ears. Leaning forward, you kissed his nose, muttering a soft, “cute” as you did it.

Instead of saying anything, Hyunsuk’s hands pressed on your back, guiding you towards him until you felt your hips bump into his. You gasped, your arms wrapping around his neck while you smiled at your boyfriend. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, his nose rubbing against yours before he leaned in, closing the small gap between your mouths.

At first the kiss was languid and soft, just the press of lips together until Hyunsuk tilted his head even more. The feeling of his lips parting slightly and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip had you pulling away, a surprised noise falling from you as you stared at Hyunsuk wide eyed.

Just the thought of him wanting to take the kiss further had your body heating up. Of course you wanted the same thing, you wanted to open your mouth and take another step in your relationship but there was one problem, you had little to no experience with making out with someone. The furthest you had gone was accidentally brushing your tongue with your ex while you were kissing but nothing else came of it, you had stopped immediately and nearly ran back home.

Hyunsuk didn’t hide the mix of confusion and disappointment on his face. He would never force you into something you didn’t want to do but he had hoped soon he would be able to take your skinship to another level.

“Uh, let’s start the first movie, I already picked it out.” You turned away from your boyfriend, mentally cursing yourself for pulling away when in reality you wanted the exact same thing as Hyunsuk.

“Of course.” Hyunsuk let go of your hand when you tried to guide him to the couch and you were about to start apologizing but you watched as he dug into the pocket of his jacket. The smile from before appeared again as he pulled out a few bags of candy along with some microwave popcorn.

“I brought snacks! I figured we could have some now and later make the popcorn.” His familiar cheery tone was back and you hoped he wasn’t still thinking about the awkward moment just seconds before. If he was there was no indication of it, his smile making your heart speed up just a bit.

Nodding, you fell back onto the couch, arms open and waiting for your boyfriend to join you. “Sounds good, now come here I need my cuddle buddy.”

As Hyunsuk set the food on the coffee table, he feigned hurt, one hand on his chest while the other was placed delicately on his hip. He raised his eyebrows, fighting the laugh that bubbled up. “Is that all I am to you? Someone to cuddle?”

Although he said that, he still sat next to you, opening his arms and awaiting for you to crawl into them and make yourself comfortable. Cuddling with Hyunsuk was your favorite pastime not only because he was really warm but also because of the small kisses he would plant on your head as you laid there.

“Nah you’re good at other stuff too,” you started, settling yourself in Hyunsuk’s arms. He moved to lay down on the couch, your ear pressed against his chest and you felt satisfied hearing the way his heartbeat sped up as you snuggled into him. “But your cuddles are the best.”

Silence fell over you as you pressed play on the remote, the movie starting with a black screen before opening to a million colors. You picked an animated movie for the first one, wanting to ease Hyunsuk into the scarier ones that were for later in the night.

It was only halfway through the movie when you felt it. One of your hands was resting on Hyunsuk’s chest, your fingertip softly drawing circles on his skin. One of his hands was stroking your back, right along your spine which caused a road of goosebumps to appear on your arm.

Although it was supposed to be an innocent gesture you felt your body heat up, a small fire ignited in your stomach when you looked up at Hyunsuk and saw the way his hair was slightly messy, eyes focused on the movie while his mouth hung open slightly. You were brought back to earlier in the night, the way his soft lips glided over yours. The searing desire to take it further not enough to interfere with your fear of not being good.

“Everything okay, baby?” You were snapped out of your thoughts when Hyunsuk turned his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in worry. “You spaced out there for a second.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just…” You trailed off, thinking of ways to tell Hyunsuk you wanted to make out without actually saying it. As you paused, Hyunsuk started to sit up, moving your legs so they were over his lap. His arm was still around your back while the other rested on your knee, encouraging you to keep going.

Instead of going on, you decided to swallow your fears. Quickly you moved one of your knees over so you were straddling Hyunsuk’s lap, your legs on either side of his. The way his mouth fell open made you smile, loving how you could tell how much you affected him. It was never a secret, but it made you feel better that you didn’t have to guess what he was feeling.

You leaned forward, pressing your mouth to Hyunsuk’s and nearly smirking at the gasp that fell from his lips. You kissed him once, pulling away to leave just an inch between you before going back in for another. It was quick and soft, nothing like what he had done earlier but you had no idea where to start.

“Baby,” Hyunsuk’s hands were on your waist, his feather light touch just enough to let you know they were there. “Is this because of earlier? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, I got carried away, I’m sorry.” As he started talking you shook your head, not wanting him to apologize for your own fear.

“No, I want to… make out with you but,” You trailed off, looking anywhere but Hyunsuk’s face. The thought of making a complete fool of yourself flew through your head but if you were going to advance your relationship with Hyunsuk, you had to tell him eventually so you took a deep breath, your hands resting on his chest. “I just have no experience with making out with someone and I’m scared I won’t be good at it.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Hyunsuk smile, his thumbs rubbing small circles in your skin of your hips as he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “You’re so cute, baby.”

One of his hands moved to your chin, moving your head so you would look at him. Although he was smiling, his eyes were serious and held a hint of something darker, something that made the fire in your stomach to get bigger.

“It’s okay that you don’t have any experience, I’ll teach you then.” Your boyfriend shrugged, his smile turning more into a smirk. “I’m just glad you pulled away earlier for that reason and not because you didn’t want to kiss me.” He laughed lightly before he leaned closer to you.

“Do you want to learn now, baby?” His tone was encouraging, the hint of desire in his voice and you felt your legs almost turn to jelly with the way he was looking at you. When you nodded your head, Hyunsuk shook his, his thumb stroking your jawline. “I need you to tell me, baby.”

“I want you to teach me. Please kiss me, Hyunsuk.” You jutted your bottom lip out, scooting closer to him and gasping when you felt his thighs under you flex.

That was enough for Hyunsuk to give in, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips just as before. There was no sense of urgency, just the sweet feeling of his mouth against yours. As he pulled away, he left only a small space between you. “Just follow my lead, baby. I’ll guide you.”

Nodding, you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head. Leaning in once again, Hyunsuk tilted his head and you followed, enjoying the way your mouths slotted together much better like that. It was like two puzzle pieces finding each other. That kiss was more passionate, Hyunsuk’s hands on your hips grounding you and making you feel like every nerve was alight.

This time when you felt his tongue swipe your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, inviting him in. An involuntary soft moan fell from your lips as your own tongue met with his. Warmth spread through you and you were sure the temperature in the room had rose as well. Hyunsuk left no area of your mouth undiscovered, the way his tongue tickled the top of your mouth making you shiver in his grasp.

Your fingers began tugging lightly at Hyunsuk’s hair, enjoying the low groans that fell from his lips when you parted for just a few seconds before diving back in. If this is what it felt like, you were upset at not reaching out earlier, loving the way Hyunsuk made you feel and the way he guided you into a whole new step in your relationship.

It seemed like a few seconds when you pulled away for good yet the movie in the background had the credits rolling. Your face heated up as you realized just how long you had been making out yet also feeling a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Wow,” Hyunsuk’s hair was disheveled from your hands, his lips slightly puffy and you were sure you probably looked similar. His face flushed as he smiled at you. “Are you sure you’re not experienced? You did so well, baby.”

You hit his chest lightly, chuckling as you leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. Instead of answering him you shrugged, your breath coming out in small bursts as you tried to tame the fire that was rising in your stomach. Surely you couldn’t get that worked up from just making out with someone but that was the power that Hyunsuk held over you.

“I guess I just have a good teacher.”

[peacefulwriter88]

Shackled

Warnings: NC 18. Blowjobs. Penetration. Language 

A/N: @younghades inspired me for this story and was also kind enough to beta for me along with @geminimoonbeamx - thank you! I really enjoy exploring parts of Steve that the comics do a beautiful job of portraying but the MCU unfortunately never exploited completely + SMUT. I hope you all enjoy!

_____

How dare he. 

How fucking dare he. 

You pause lifting your martini to your lips, the promise of gin just a mouths length away as you look down at the photo. 

It’s Steve and he’s wearing his classic red avengers sweatshirt that reads Captain in the back. Not that you could see it in this photo. No, in this photo all you could see was the beard, that handsome beard of his in a smile and the Australian Shepard dog, Merlin, that you both had adopted a year ago. Underneath the photo he had written in italics

New snuggle bug since the one I would want isn’t home

It was a trick. A distraction to guilt you home. Your earlier conversation, though you knew he understood, must’ve fallen on deaf ears, 

“Why aren’t you home?” he had asked two hours earlier and you had, in your already tipsy state rolled your eyes and sassed back, 

“Why aren’t you home? It's Bre’s birthday. You know that I told her - and you - that I would be out.” 

That had been the end of that. 

You didn’t realize that he was going to surprise you and Merlin tonight. Now, all you could think about was being back home, not in a short, spandex’s black dress that you had worn out but in sweats and a sweatshirt. You were restless from staying in the past week waiting on him - being an avenger didn’t provide the liberty to determine your on schedule. 

So you send him a simple text 

Pick me up in 10?

Not thinking anything of it. Thinking, for sure, that he would ignore it. 

You should know better than to ever underestimate Steve Rogers 

When you and your friends leave the club twenty minutes later, you are all surprised at the blonde blue-eyed Avenger who is watching you deliberately.

He’s leaning on his bike  across the street, ocean eyes watching your every move as you make your way to the street with your friends. Everyone is trying to hail a ride - should they lyft or uber? - but your eyes are stamped to him as he pushes off his bike, makes his way towards your group. 

You were going home by a different means. 

“Ladies, how are you doing tonight?” your friends squeal because it was Steve Rogers and gawd weren’t you lucky to have a man like Steve Rogers in love with you. They say as much and you agree - you were lucky as you lean up to wrap your arms around him, press your lips to his. 

He’s cold and soft in all the ways you expected him to be - you’re sure he was hoping to walk into a house with you in it, making dinner and eagerly waiting for him alongside Merlin- and normally you would be. Normally you lived for those evenings. 

But tonight…...

“I just needed one night out….I’ve been so alone missing you.” you whisper against his soft lips and his hands go to squeeze your ass, kisses you again as he gives a small smile. 

“I know.” 

His voice is dark and guttural, tickles against the beard he’s decided to keep since being out of shadow. 

“Sorry ladies, going to have to steal her.” it's all he says as he wraps his arms around your waist, starts to escort you across the street. 

“Going to have to remind you who you belong to…” he whispers lowly, placing one last kiss on your neck before helping you onto the bike, doing your best not to flash others. 

That was how it began. 

Now you were sitting in your shared apartment, hands crossed neatly over your lap as you sat criss crossed in your bed. Steve was in the chair across from you, slightly slouched, a beer in one hand as he rubbed his beard, flickering from your face to the dark area between your legs that was hidden from him. 

He had lit candles in the room when you had walked in and your nostril was stinging with the smells of sandalwood and teakwood, woodsy dark smells that had caused goosebumps to splay over your body when you realized the kind of night that Steve was hoping to have. 

That you had disrupted. 

“What should I do with you?” he finally asks, placing his beer down on the table and looking at you expectantly. You shrug and he raises an eyebrow - a warning -  and you clear your throat as you say, 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know what?” he repeats, thoughtly warning ringing in your ears and you sit up more straight as you mumble out, 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

Steve tilts his head, watches you for a second more before shaking his head, 

“You really hurt my feelings earlier sugar.” 

Sugar. This was gentle Steve, trying to tame the monster that he tried to keep caged down 90% of the time. The parts of him he didn’t allow anyone else to see - the mistakes, the pain, the regret that he all took out in the darker side of him. 

You didn’t want him to be gentle, not anymore. You liked dominant, choactic Steve Rogers when he showed up. 

“I didn’t mean too, sir, but I just needed to get some fresh air tonight.” 

“Needed to tease all those men.” he bites back, the tinge of jealousy intertwining in his words and you bite back the moan that wants to release as you nod your head slowly.  His voice is coarser as he whispers, 

“Wanted them to forget how you’re chained to me? How you’re mine.” 

Another nod from you, as you say with a low sultry voice, 

“Girl’s like to tease to remember that they’re desirable.” 

It was true. A guy hadn’t looked at you for months. Steve made sure of that. It normally didn’t bother you - it was nice that men understood that you were called for.  Except Steve had been in and out of your life for weeks lately  and that had you insecure. All up in your head. 

He gets up, walks up to you slowly, like a cat circling its prey, 

“Are my reminders not good enough.” his voice is dominant, yes, but with a touch of pain. 

“They’re fine when you’re around. When you’re not then my insecurities start to haunt me.” 

You and Steve make it work - your relationship - because of the honesty you both have built. You wanted him to understand that you weren’t being completely disobedient because of your natural need to be defiant but because you also needed to breathe. 

Loving an Avenger - fallen or not - was just as hard as being an Avenger. 

He knows all of this, could hear it over the phone the past few weeks but didn’t want to bring it up - didn’t want to cause a fight. So he let it linger, let it lay in the air and here you both were. 

Itching to destroy the other. 

You brought out his savage side. He feared it. He loved it. 

He loved you and he wanted you to understand to know. However; you also were being openly defiant and all those weeks of dead bodies - of letting humanity and his team down and the nightmares he kept at night were only binded, begging to be released. 

Only you could free him of it. He exhausted of being Mr. Good Boy. 

“On your knees.” Steve whispers, stopping a few yards in front of the bed. You take your time as you untangle your limbs, begin to crawl towards him. You know that he wants to punish you - wants to embarass you for leaving him out on a limb and you try to fight the moan that wants to escape your lips in anticipation - the flushing of your panties. The shame you carry from being turned on from the thought. 

You make it to him a little slower then he’d prefer - you were in one of those moods it would seem - and so when you're on your knees in front of him, looking at him with your eyes blinking up at him innocently he already knows how he’s going to punish you. 

Love you. 

               Reward you.

                                  Cherish you. 

                                                     Destroy you. 

He takes his time unbuckling his belt, watching you under dark indigo eyes that brew like a storm in the Atlantic, the pop of his buttons a welcomed distraction. You try to focus on the sound of his jeans brushing down his legs, pooling at his feet as he kicks them off, his boxers silent as his erection springs free. 

You groan, drinking in his manhood

You think back to a conversation that you had with your friend Stefanie hours earlier. She had been drunk - she had had a very long work week - and had no filter for her next words, 

“You’re dating a man with super soldier serum? Does that mean he has a super soldier cock?” 

You smirk as you drink in his manhood now. You had told her not to worry about it - it was between you and Steve. Now, you admire what is in front of you. He was lengthy, sure, and girthy in all the right ways - a blonde beaut that his trimmed hairs praised as it stood at attention but you’re not sure if his manhood being glorious was all super serum. 

In your gut you felt this was always Steve, even when he was scrawny and could barely carry himself and didn’t know what to do with the weapon between his legs. 

His stamina; however, you attested that all to the serum. 

“You’re going to be an obedient little girl and let me fuck this mouth however I please. You’re not going to protest and when I think you’re ready you’re going to drink my cum like the good little slut I  know you to be. You got that sweetheart?” 

Sweetheart. There he was.

He whispers the demeaning words and they shouldn’t turn you on, they really shouldn’t, but it's all you can do to not bend backwards and cum in your panties. Still doesn’t deny a rush that floods between your legs, getting you wetter, and the smell mingles with the candles that are burning in the room. 

Steve groans, his super senses attaching to the smell as he grabs your head and pushes you towards his center, watches in adoration as your face inhales him, drinks him in. 

Then your mouth takes over. 

Your tongue sucks his tip, flickering over his hole before your jaw goes lax, opens wider for him. You hum content as he pushes himself into you, violating your space, tongue smashed to the basement of your mouth, teeth pulled back as you begin to breathe slowly through your nostrils. 

You loved pleasuring your man, loved to worship him but admittedly, he was a lot to take in. 

Too much it always felt. 

It’s on a particular stroke that his top hits the back of your throat that has you gagging, your hands naturally trying to push him away. 

He tsks, catching your wrists, crossing one over the over as he continued to push himself into you, 

“Nuh uh sweetheart we talked about this. You’re going to let me fuck this wet mouth, going to cum all over that pretty little face of yours.”

You try to focus on his words, on the way he praised you and not on the weight of his penis, the way your eyes tested  uncontrollably as he moved in and out of your mouth. Just when you didn’t think you could bare anymore, when your gagging was taking over the low hums of contentment, you feel Steve’s hip buckle as he pulls out of you. 

“Open wide.” He whispers and you nod, widening your mouth and leaning your head back, lashes kissing your cheeks. 

“Awww fu…..fuck.” Steve whispers hands clutching the strands of your hair as he pumped himself to orgasm. Seconds later you're flooded with him - a twisty tango of salt and something that could only be defined as Steve. You moan, nearly gagging as it floods your mouth, 

                                                   your tongue,

                                                           your nose,

                                                                    your eyes, 

                                                                            your cheeks. 

When he is done he strokes your face, gasping for air as he tsks, 

“Look at how much of a fucking mess you are. All dressed up in my cum.” 

He walks away, leaves you and his presence leaves you cold, wanting you to wash away the leftover gift he has bestowed onto your face. You want to wipe your face, to rid it off the natural mask it has been decorated in  but you're only wearing a dress, the thick spaghetti straps not enough to cleanse yourself of him. 

Seconds later your face is warm. Him, washing it off you tenderly, whispering in your ear all the while, 

“Now show me how much you want to fight for this cock.” 

When you’re able you blink your eyes open, drink in the way his indigo eyes have gone completely dark, the red sweatshirt thrown off of him. Steve was beautiful, anyone wouldn’t deny it. His arms were thick, muscled, scarred from the many battles he’s endured for over 100 years. Every part of him was hard, rugged - scars over skin that healed back perfectly, trying to disguise the damage. Building up the physical walls to his internal pain. 

You loved him so much. 

Your hand dances over his abdomen and he groans, relishing in your touch. In the adoring way your hands splayed over him. 

God he loved you so much. 

“Strip outta that dress. From now on - you  only wear it when I’m around.” he barely lets out and you nod, obediently. 

Demanding. 

Needy. 

He moves back to the lounge chair in your room, takes a seat. You note the blindfold to his side but that's it as your hands move to find your straps shakily, eyes on him. 

You don’t know why you get so nervous stripping in front of him. 

You knew he adored every inch of your body as much as you did his. Every curve, ever scar, every freckle - he had cherished lovingly. He made a point to tell you every second he could and yet in front of him, like this, you still got shy. Afraid you weren’t good enough. 

He hated that he made you insecure when you were the true goddess of his eye. 

The first strap rolls down the softness of your skin, then the second. You slowly pull them down your torso, your breast springing free and his eyes tighten. You see his otherwise flaccid penis begin to harden but that's all the response you get it. You push the dress  down your body, slowly, eyes never leaving his until its on the floor and you’re in nothing but your underwear. 

“Now those.” his voice is dry, gruff and you nod as you bite your lip, begin to push them down as well. 

When you’re done you are in nothing and your hands move to cross in front of your soft belly. 

“No.” he says and you stop, breathing out uncomfortably. This was his punishment, this was how he was going to make you pay for all the sassy comments on the night. 

In nakedness. 

He drinks you, the seal to his erection springing up toward his torso and you try to fight the blush that heats up your face, feels like it takes over your body. 

To be so open with someone so lovely that loved you was cruelty and he knew it. 

“Lay down,” he demands a second later before pausing, “And throw this on.” 

You watch as the blindfold sails in the air and lands in your hands, perfectly like everything he does, and you nod. You take the delicate strings and place it over your eyes until darkness takes over. Then, carefully, you move backwards until the backs of your knees hit your bed. You take your time moving onto your shared  bed, your breath hitching in anticipation. 

“Lay on your stomach sugar.” the voice comes from another place in the room but you obey, curious to see what he has in store for you as you roll onto your stomach, your face falling into the bedsheets. 

It smelled like you - a tad musky from when you got off thinking of Steve the night before  - and him, clean laundry and the spunky musk that had been on you minutes earlier and you wondered how many times he had gotten off waiting for you - wondering where you had gone off too before the natural investigator searched for you. 

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you forget about your current situation, on the verge of falling asleep when you feel heat caress up and down your back. You seethe, your head lifting as Steve whispers, 

“Relax sugar, going to work out those knots before you ride this fucking cock.” 

You’re unsure what he means - he had just poured fucking wax on your back you were sure of it - before his hands are moving up and down your skin. The wax gives way to something smoother, like oil, and before you can protest your body is hostage to Steve’s hands. They work you - up and down - your shoulders, your back, your buttox, all the way down to your legs. When he's done he flips you over but this time you’re ready for the hot wax that falls on your stomach - that he massages off of you and plays with your breast, before his mouth latches onto a nipple, groaning in desire. 

“Missed these fucking tits of yours. Missed this ass and your pussy. Did you miss me sweetheart? Did you miss my cock? I know you did, can smell you on our sheets. Missed me pounding you dumb?” 

All you could do is whine as he whispers into your skin, his tongue flickering over nipples before biting down, right before your left. 

Then he’s moving lower,

                                     lower,

                                              and lower.

Until his mouth hovers over your center. He inhales you, groans, bites his lip before he's pushing himself into you, massaging your breast and you lift your body, grip the sheets as he presses his tongue between your folds, draws a long lick up to your clit. It tickles and burns, his beard brushing against the tender flesh of your thighs and you sigh contently as your hand finds his hair, guiding him through another lick. 

“Oh sweetheart.” he whispers as he pulls away, presses a kiss on your mound before slapping it, causing you to yelp. 

“Later. After you’ve learned your lesson.” 

He pulls away and you’re fully expecting to be greeted with his cock but instead, seconds later you're being lifted in the air, causing you to squeal. He slaps your ass, 

“Control yourself.” he mutters lowly and you clamp your mouth together as he places you on the ground. You hear him move past you, sitting down in what you can only imagine is the lounge chair again before his fingertips are finding your hips. 

“Come ‘er.” he guides you until you’re straddling him, directing your hands onto his shoulders before he possessively  places his hands on your hips. 

“Want you to ride me blind sweetheart. Want you to show me who you belong to, want you to be a blind little slut while you bring yourself to orgasm.” 

You whine - it sounded absolutely delicious what he wanted but you’re unsure about doing it blind. How would you know where he was? 

You try anyways, blindly starting to squat where you think he is. He helps, directing you towards your prize and you both moan happily as you fall on top of him, him sheathing your insides like a key in a lock. Your walls flutter around him naturally, like it was meant to breathe around his manhood and he moans as his face falls into your chest, before muttering, 

“Show me who I belong to.” 

It's awkward at first, you don't deny that. You rock against him uncertainty, your legs not used to this position and slipping against the slick carpet. He helps guide you until a particular thrust captures your g spot and you throw your head back, moaning, your nails biting into the strong muscles of his shoulder. 

You steady yourself on the floor, snapping your hips and imaging how he looked right now. Meanwhile, Steve had found your breast and beyond teasing your nipples he keeps his hands to himself, drinking in the way you take control. His beard tickles your breast as he praises you, his hands finding the straps to your blindfold and pulling it back. 

The contrast hurts your eyes and you blink a few times before you drink in the way his dark eyes watch you and you bite your lip, grind into him deeper. All the while he praises, 

“That's right. Fuck my cock the way a little slut should, fuck me until you come and cant move. Fuck me until I have nothing else to give you.”

It's a stark contrast,  this Steve but you liked it. You liked when he let go and discounted the scars on his chest, the ones that were bruised a blue and purple sore and painful though he’d never let on. He needed to be this man, the one that could get all his disappointment and hurt and pain out in this way - pleasure twisting with pain. 

When his hand moves to your throat at a particular good thrust you know that he’s had a bad mission. 

A few.                    Bad.                        Missions. 

You can barely get words out in the way he dominates you, riding against your strokes and his hand gripping at the delicate skin 

Steve could snap your throat in half, you always think of that as he gives you a gentle squeeze and you rock against him, his shaft hitting against your clit causing you to purr and move your head back. 

He can’t stay in control anymore. 

He keeps one arm around your neck,  your sweet Steve, while the other finds your hips, begins to drive them into you. It's on a particular strong stroke that you feel your body unnerving, no longer to keep pace on your own, 

“Steve….I ….I...” 

“Yeah baby. You gonna cum for me?  

You’re unable to answer. 

All seven trillion nerves in your body bursting into life, giving way to the way your walls flutter around Steve causing him to groan as you fall back on your own. He prolongs it, releases your neck to play with your clit and just when you didn’t think you could feel any more pleasure you’re hit with another orgasm, one that causes you to screech out a noise Steve has never heard before. 

He watches the way your body erupts in goosebumps, before it involuntarily shakes and your milking him without being consciously aware. It drives him over the edge, the leftover cum stain on the side of your mouth, the way your eyes have rolled back and grip for him, the fluttering of your walls around him. He hollers, fills you up with his cum as he pulls you toward him, hips jerking up as you milk him for all that he is worth. 

When it's over you're both looking at each other, a sheen of sweat covering you both before you bend down to kiss him, nose nudging his own as you whisper, 

“I love you.” 

He smiles against your mouth as he whispers back, 

“I love you too. But you’re mine. Don’t forget that.” 

You smile as you kiss him again, nodding. 

“Of course.”  you whisper against his lips, “Just like you belong to me.” 

________

Tag List: @jalapenobarnes​ @younghades​  @Sad-af1121, @whichwayisthebeach-Sebass, @theplumbclub79, @4theluvofall, @tatathekissypatato, @baezen, @lostinthoughtsandfeelings-blog, @plumbfondler, @pegasusdragontiger, @prettybubblesintheair, @docharleythegeekqueen, @brieannakeogh, @palaiasaurus64, @emotchalla, @thejenniferincident, @shayla-markele, @jalapenobarnes​,  @toastmaster94, @brandybucky, @papi-chulo-seb, @jaamesbbarnes, @paulxrudd, @badassbaker, @letsalltakeanap @papi-chulo-bucky, @moonbeambucky, @jaceyfade, @samingtonwilson, @violentlybarnes, @wehaveathor, @buckfics, @frostbitebakery,  @killmongerdreams, @plussizeappreciationfics, @softlybarnes, @prettyyoungtragedy, @angryschnauzer,  @221bshrlocked,  @yslbucky @zohoffman @ssweet-empowerment @capsofwinchesters @tacohead13 @harleycativy @pietrotheavenger @francezka10 @papichulosebastian @obsessionsofmynerdheart @melaninmarvel @avengedqueen26 @nasteaxluvgal @winterbuttmunch @nys30 @buckyslongasshair @ohlumi @wellthirsted @geminimoonbeamx @jetaimeamore​ @younghades​ @chrisevansdaddycap​ @harleycativy​ @ohlumi​ @wellthirsted​ @awinterloveuniverse​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @gand1215 @mississippifangirl​ @misskenni @microgirl8225

[acefrogmonarch]

My Turn :) Pt.3

(❁´◡`❁) (❤´艸｀❤)(✿◠‿◠)(✿◕‿◕✿)~(￣▽￣)~*(❤ ω ❤)

Tags @vivilakitty @mystery-5-5 @northernbluetongue @thatrandomfandomsgirl @vixen-uchiha

I hope that’s all of you guys in the tags if not then eh.

Tell me

1 | 2 | 3 (You’re here) | 4 - ao3

Uh heavy warning.

‼❌‼  WARNING ‼❌‼ WARNING ‼❌‼ WARNING  ‼❌‼ WARNING  ‼❌‼ WARNING  ‼❌‼ WARNING   ‼❌‼ WARNING  ‼❌‼ WARNING  ‼❌‼

A COUPLE OF DAYS BEFORE

Diana had just landed her invisible plane on the outskirts of Paris and makes her way to the inner workings of the city.

Bruce had called her to notify her of the situation in Paris. She, herself, had never been present when an Akuma was and always missed the chance to fight one.

Every time she was either off-world or on a mission. Finally, after ranting to Bruce about it, he seemed to inform her that he was taking the initiative within the following week. "Finally some good news after all this time!" Stretching out her limbs, Diana wasted no time in arriving in Paris.

Diana went to her boutique first, she trusted the girl that ran it when Diana left for her 'business trips'. リリーパッド regularly left her school books in the back of the storage. Scribbled post-it notes on her desk as she checked out every few months. A mess within the mess but always order within that chaos.

リリーパッド was, already is, family and often asked if she could help lighten the load of Diana's work or hide from her friends and family at her store.

'From embarrassment.' Is Lily Pad's excuse but Diana still teased her, she wasn't safe anywhere. Diana had sent a message an hour ago when she passed the Atlantic ocean but had yet to receive a text.

It was well past bedtime and Diana couldn't get mad at her little helper's very wise decision to sleep on a weekday. Taking out her keys, Diana opened the door to her boutique to find her helper there. "Marinette!" The girl jumped, started awake and focused her eyes at the door. "Mademoiselle Prince!"

Wiping her mouth, in case she drooled, Marinette checked around the surroundings on her desk. "Mari, it's 22 at night why-" Diana didn't bother to check the time, striding to Marinette's table, beginning to scold her. Marinette bites her lip, hesitant to speak up, but does so anyway.

"Uh, Actually, it's 21:57." Diana looked at Marinette with an unapproved stare and a hand on her hip. "You are not sassing me out リリーパッド." Marinette smiled at the small nickname. She rubbed the back of her head. "I hope you're not mad, I stayed without your permission."

Diana smiled at her helper and went to drop her purse in her office. "Not at all, what's happened since I last left?" Marinette fumbled with her collar and shrugged, looking away.

At the lack of response, Diana looked through the doorway. "Marinette?"

Marinette had taken off her turtleneck and revealed her fading light purple, gruesome green, and yellow hue of a healing bruise crawling on her neck.

From the doorway, Diana froze at the sight of the small women in front of her. "リリーパッド, Who did this to you." Marinette walked over and held her hand, slightly smiling.

"It was the most recent Akumatized victim." Quickly recovering at the memory, Marinette smiled at her. "But don't worry! I won't let that stop me from work!"

Marinette loosely wrapped her scarf around her neck. Marinette wanted to change the subject and noticed the texts from her boss. "Why, are you back so early mademoiselle?" Diana turned to look back at her desk.

"I have something that's caught my attention." Crumbling an old piece of paper, Diana controlled her growing anger. "Marinette, stay away from here."

Marinette in the meantime slipped on a jacket and entered Diana's office. "But Madam. What about work?" Diana shakes her head 'No'. 

"You were already caught up in this. I don't get caught up again." Marinette gave a small smile and walked up to Diana. "It's very hard to do that when your classmates are shit."

Diana smiled back and hugged her. "Maybe, but if you see one. Run away." 

.

.

Marinette had tried, really she did. But she couldn't stop helping people even if she didn't want to.

'Thank god, Royal is alright.' The white noise dimmed around her and she regained consciousness. In a colder place, good. From experience, Marinette could tell this grogginess is from blood loss. Looking down at her stomach she saw the torn clothing and Chat Noir's arm.

'Never again, screw this." Blinking at her surroundings, Marinette grabbed onto the arm that's wrapped around her. "How long was I out?" A little louder than her normal tone. She was right to panic a little, they were in the middle of an Akuma attack! "Not long."

Both Chat Noir and her aren't there to take care of it and Mademoiselle Prince! Struggling to move away from Chat Noir's, Ladybug instead leans into her partner. "I don't know who is Mdm. Prince but she doesn't matter right now, the Akuma has been dealt with, those two strangers helped me deal with it."

Chat Noir placed Ladybug on a chair and went to go get supplies. "You know the drill, don't move." Ladybug waved her arm in his general direction. "Whatever you say. Cat boy."

Ladybug held her stomach, in her hand was her yo-yo. "Lucky charm." Weakly throwing it up the air, Ladybug caught the polka-dotted burner that fell back down.

Marinette laughs at the situation. "Not even right now? Really" Sighing as she waited for Adrien. She needed it anyway and she was already guessing that Adrien did too. "Thank god this doesn't happen often."

Adrien enters the lobby, his hands full of items. A pot, a sewing kit, Alcohol and a couple of water bottles. "I got everything." Marinette nodded and sat up to ease her head.

"In a pot?" Adrien briskly walked back to her. "Y-yeah." Adrien was stopped to stare at her open wound. "Hey." Marinette smiled weakly and held out her hand.

"I'm going to be okay." Adrien grabbed it and fell to his knees again. "How come the Miraculous could cure me but not you." Gripping her hand and quietly letting his tears flow.

"Easy there, I won't be back up to my usual self if I don't hurry." Sniffling, Adrien nodded and took the burner and turned it on. Adrien gives her the cold water bottle and alcohol.

Wordlessly he moves to help Marinette. Adrien boiled another water bottle and took the sewing kit he found and waited for the water to boil. Once it's boiled, Adrien takes the thread and washes it in the hot water, the same with the needle.

Marinette in the meantime detransformed. Tikki went off to guard the place, She couldn't bear to see her companion hurt. Marinette lifted her shirt to lather the areas around the slashes with-- Marinette checked the bottle. "Bourbon?" Adrien didn't reply to her, too busy watching water boil. Marinette shrugged and took a sip.

"Better than last time." Grabbing a few tissues, Marinette covered the gaps and applied pressure. Dousing the outside of her stomach with bourbon she continued. Adrien stood up from the pot delivering the disinfected needle and thread to Mari with a pair of pliers and eyebrow pluckers.

Marinette takes them into her hand, she bends the needle into a hook. Pausing to look up to her partner, he hasn't expressed disconcert since he gathered the supplies. "You don't have to look, you know." Marinette tied the knot on the needle.

Adrien shook his head. "I passed out last time, I have to look." Marinette stared at him. "Don't push yourself 纯儿." Adrien grimaced and breathed out slowly. "G-got it."

Marinette took the plier in one hand and the bottle of bourbon in another. Taking a big gulp of the bourbon and steadying her hand, she slowly worked to tie the first throw together.

After successfully getting the first know she continued on the smaller parts of the claw marks. Catching her breathe, Marinette stops and takes a sip of the water and bourbon. "The pot."

Wordlessly Adrien hands the hot item to her. Adrien gags and covers his mouth with his hand. Marinette pulls the two strips of skin together and presses the hot iron on it.

Melting the skin together and the agonizing burn makes it difficult for her to be awake. Adrien stands up abruptly and runs out, covering his nose and moth with the palm of his hand. The smell of burnt skin and seeing his friend in pain makes him puke.

His lunch comes up as Marinette finishes her first claw mark. "A" Marinette bites back her cries and throws the pot away. "Ah, Merde." Adrien cleans up his puke and makes his way back to the Marinette.

"Looks like I can't wear a two-piece bathing suit anymore." Marinette lightly jokes, Adrien doesn't smile at her attempt to lighten the mood. His somber state brings Marinette worry, a silent beat passes.

"You looked better in a one-piece any way." Marinette snorts but quickly develops into pain. "Ow." Adrien detransforms and looks at Plagg. He floats closer to Marinette's face and nuzzles her cheek.

"Mari-bug, get some rest. I can handle it from here." Marinette giggles at his whiskers, lightly grazing her cheek. "Got it Plagg." Grinning softly at Plagg and Adrien; Adrien held her hand and rubbed the back of it. Marinette closed her eyes, letting the pain and sorrow consume her body.

"Adrien, get the pot and reheat it." Plagg barked orders at Adrien's inability to move. He nods and scurries off to fetch the pot. "Sorry about this baby bug." Repeating the procedure for the claw mark above the first one, Adrien and Plagg worked tirelessly to ensure the rest of the injury closed.

.

.

After finishing and closing the wounds, Adrien went to Marinette's side. "We're are ready to finish the Purification of  the Akuma." Plagg went off to find Tikki at Adrien's words.

When Plagg found her, she was looking onto the city, sitting in the gutter. "Sugarcube." Turning to find her partner, Tikki doesn't cheer up. Plagg spins around her and grabs ahold of her paws.

"She's all patched up!" Plagg strived to match Tikki's endless cheery euphemism. It didn't work and it got out a sad smile from her. "You should leave the optimism to me, sock." 

Plagg nudges her, leads her back to Marinette. Tikki hovers at Marinette sides, Plagg drifts from afar. Leaving enough space for Tikki to take in the sight of her little ladybird. "When knowledge when is used to help others and not yourself, then is it a gift."

Tikki wasn't wise, that belonged to Wayzz for a reason. But by any means is she naive. Tikki dreaded the injuries she couldn't heal and how restricted her powers were without a proper vessel.

"Don't be so tough on yourself love." Plagg grabs a paw from Tikki and floats around her. Almost like dancing, Adrien couldn't help but stare at the little gods dance. "Oh no, you are not calling me those nicknames again." Tikki took back her paw and crossed her arms.

Plagg nudges her again and holds her. "Come one sweets, how long are you going to be mad at me." Tikki flies off and goes to Marinette. "I will stop being mad when you give me a reason too." Adrien catches Plagg with his hands.

"Maybe we should leave the girls to themselves." Plagg stares at Tikki from a distance and sighs. Then flips the switch from crushed to apathy in an instant. "Gender is a fake construct and time isn't relevant."

"Uhh" Leaving Adrien in a dazed and confused state. Plagg floats off for some food. "Okay?" Adrien trails after Plagg into the kitchen.

Tikki glides down to Marinette's sleeping form and proceeds to nest on her hair. "Everything is going to get better, I promise Крошечный жук" Tikki pets her hair slowly.

[artificialqueens]

All I’ve Got To Keep Myself Sane, 3/8 (Jackie/Widow) - Juno

Chapter Summary: They reach Atlantic City, but more bizarre coincidences mean Jackie and Widow remain in each others’ pockets.

CW: References to homophobia, one drug use reference.

A/N: This chapter is still angsty, but also fluffy, still slow burn. There is also some POV change within the chapter. I hope you like chapter three. Thank you for your support so far with this fic!

It was almost six thirty as the sea came into view on the horizon, Atlantic City ahead of it. The sun was setting behind them, casting the sea into a million different colours, the sky on the horizon turning a faded blue.

Jackie had asked for energetic music to keep out her own thoughts for the rest of the drive. Widow had put on a band Jackie didn’t know called Glass Cloud, which had turned out to be heavy metal, and then had promptly fallen asleep again. How Widow slept with this cacophony going on was anyone’s guess.

Still, the heavy guitar and growls was better than thinking about Jan.

The smirk on her face as she’d answered the door this morning. Cheeks still flushed, pupils still dilated, hair still dishevelled. While that bitch scurried on the stairs behind her before sprinting into the kitchen, still pulling on her sweater.

Not an iota of shame for what Jan had been doing behind Jackie’s back – just an easy lie.

She’s just a friend. Just on my soccer team. Just having a sleepover.

Almost an exact repeat of what Jan had told her in New York, six months ago. Just a sleepover with a friend from theatre.

It had been the last straw. Jackie had screamed at Jan that it was over, for goodthis time, before driving herself to that same Wal-Mart she’d just slept in, and had spent the next hour sobbing and wondering if she was delusional, if she’d done the right thing.

She’d thought she was done crying. Widow had already proven her wrong there. Just saying Jan’s name had felt like a millstone dropping from her neck, as if she’d been carrying it too long. Now, she was simply mentally exhausted, not to mention physically from all this driving.

Jackie chanced a glance at Widow as they started on the winding streets of Atlantic City itself. She was turned away from Jackie to the passenger window, but her breathing told Jackie that she was still asleep.

Widow had slept almost the entire journey, come to think about it, only waking up when they had pulled into a stop. A good six hours. Why was she sleeping this much? Jackie wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to chance waking her while the car was moving. Best to keep things as they were.

But Widow in sleep was no longer as peaceful as earlier. She’d twist, thrash against her seatbelt, making the occasional high-pitched whimpering noise at the top of her throat before settling, and then ten minutes later starting the same thing again.

Even now she was starting to protest again, noise starting again in her throat.

A stark contrast to the soothing persona who had pulled Jackie to her chest in a comforting hug when she’d broken down at revealing Jan’s name only about an hour ago.

Jackie pulled into a side street, right near the ocean, with a group of what looked like retirement apartments, and found a space to park. She turned off the engine, her limbs aching from driving for so long, and sighed at the view.

It was time to wake up her passenger, but it was getting harder and harder each time; Widow was definitely fast asleep, and Jackie had to properly shake her to make her flinch at all.

“Come on, wake up.”

Widow looked confused for a moment, then turned out the front window, her eyes widening as she took it in.

“The sea,” she murmured. “I can’t – I don’t think I’ve seen the sea since I was in senior year.”

Widow seemed utterly enraptured by the vast expanse of the Atlantic on the horizon, something Jackie couldn’t fathom having lived near it for so long. Jackie watched her stare silently out to it, an awed expression on her face.

“Where does your friend Crystal live?”

“She always says somewhere in Pleasantville. Hang on.” Widow reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and tapped at the screen for her messages, swiping left on a missed-call notification as she did.

She read the message and let out a sigh.

“Shit.”

Widow closed the screen and leaned back in the seat, closing her eyes frustratedly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Widow muttered, “I just need to get a hotel. She’s out of town.”

“Where’s she gone?”

“Miami. Her girlfriend lives there. Some college skater girl she met when she went down in spring. Last weekend before class starts, right? Said she’s back tomorrow evening. I just need to stay somewhere for one night. Where are there hotels here? Any nearby?” Widow asked.

Jackie swallowed. “I’m sure there’s plenty around here.”

“I thought you’d know where things are in Atlantic City, since your grandma is here. You’re coming to visit her, right?”

“She – she lives up in Pleasantville too. Somewhere. I have her details on my phone.”

“What time is she expecting you?” Widow asked, fixing her eyes on Jackie’s, that same penetrating stare she seemed to put on at every turn.

She seemed to know when Jackie wasn’t saying everything, and it was becoming unnerving. Jackie sighed, scrabbling in her brain for an excuse, but finding that none came to the forefront of her mind. Widow saw straight through her, and Jackie was tired of hiding. Tired of keeping this up.

“She isn’t expecting me.”

Widow nodded. “I didn’t think she was.”

Jackie opened her mouth to reply, but found that her mind refused to conjure anything for her any more. She turned back to the horizon, looking out at the Atlantic stretching all around them. They were both silent for a few moments.

“Alright,” Widow sighed eventually, “well, if you don’t know any hotels in the area, I’ll look one up.” She opened up her phone again.

Jackie fought with what she was about to say, but there wasn’t really any point in hiding it now. She confessed, “I have a room already booked for the night.”

This time, Widow turned sharply to her, frowning.

“You’ve booked a hotel?” She asked Jackie.

“Yeah.”

Jackie had booked a Holiday Inn, right on the sea front. But I hadn’t expected to be alone.

Jackie held her tongue on that thought. She couldn’t think about that without Jan’s face swirling in front of her.

Widow’s expression flattened again, and she nodded. “Alright. You booked a room. Do you mind me being, you know, in the same hotel as you? Are you gonna tell me where it is, and then I can book myself a room too?”

“We can go now, if you want.”

“Sure.”

Widow’s eyes got bigger and bigger as Jackie drove, the Atlantic coming nearer to them, and honestly, Jackie was enjoying her marvelling at the sea.

The sound of seagulls overhead, the rushing noise of the waves, it was starting to come back to Jackie, even though this time she wouldn’t have anyone to share it with.

Parking at the hotel was pretty busy, but Jackie managed to find a space eventually. Looking out the front, the hotel overlooked the boardwalk, with the beach only a few metres beyond that. The boardwalk was still crawling with people, even though it was after seven o’ clock by now.

Jackie turned to her left, the northern side of the strip, watching the lighthouse in the distance turning slowly, the lights of the pier below stretching out from the land and towards the sea. On the right, tourists, students, and everyone else was gathered on the strip, coming off the beach as the sun dipped lower behind them, the first partygoers coming out, pre-drinking before hitting one of the clubs further inland, off the strip.

The sea was always a place Jackie associated with happiness. It reminded her of childhood, not because she ever came here as a kid; but because of the sense of fun and freedom it instilled in her.

Driving down from New York first thing this morning, Jackie had had visions in her head of sunrise over the Atlantic, foam lapping over her toes as she stretched her legs out on the sand. Jan’s head on her shoulder.

No. Can’t think about Jan.

It would have been utopia, if Jan had been in a position to come with her.

Honestly, Jackie didn’t want to think about what kind of position Jan had been in first thing this morning. But it certainly hadn’t been one where she could ditch, hop in the car and drive down to AC with her.

Instead of calm, clear waters and idyllic sandy scenes, now she was faced with a cold dip in the seas of reality.

Nothing was going as planned.

But nothing mattered any more.

Jackie’s thoughts were interrupted by Widow’s phone ringing. The inside of the car flooding back to her, Jackie watched as Widow picked the phone up, glanced at the number, and pressed it to her ear. “Hello.”

Widow’s eyes became glassy as she sat for a few seconds. Her posture stiffened, and she bit her lip.

“Hello, Uncle Richard.”

Jackie watched, silently, her heart aching for Widow as her face gradually changed from glassy to fearful, nodding, putting a knuckle to her mouth to chew.

“Okay. …. I said, okay. I’m totally fine.”

Another pause. Her eyes were filling with tears, but her voice somehow remained steady.

“I’m at Dahlia’s.”

What was going on?

Widow was now screwing her eyes shut tightly, her lip quivering, waving her free hand in front of her eyes, but it still didn’t stop a tear escaping her.

“No, she’s not. She’s straight.”

Her voice was quaking with emotion. Jackie’s hands shook as she watched Widow try to hold it together in front of her, the longest pause yet as she listened to her phone, gulping back her sadness.

“Okay. No, I’m fine.”

A choked gasp.

“Yeah. Yeah, I love you too.”

Widow’s voice trembled, but she put the phone down, and brushed her hands over her face, and took two or three deep breaths in, steadying herself.

“Widow,” Jackie wondered how to approach this, “I don’t think I’m the only person who needs to get something off their chest here.”

“It’s nothing.”

Widow’s face was obstinate, her jaw tensing, but Jackie refused to let this lie.

“You were just speaking to your uncle. You told him you were with Dahlia. Who I know is in Pennsylvania because you told me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t say it’s nothing! Come on, Widow. You don’t know me, so I can’t judge you.” Jackie repeated Widow’s own words to her, putting a hand on Widow’s shoulder, hoping for some sort of response.

But Widow barely noticed her words. Her lip trembled, her eyes filled with tears, staring out ahead.

“I thought he didn’t want to see me again!”

——

Widow’s heart thumped. The last twenty four hours, or mainly the first twelve of those, kept repeating round and round her head.

She hated being upset, especially in front of people she didn’t know well. But she hadn’t expected Uncle Richard to call her so soon. In fact, a small part of her hadn’t even expected to hear from him ever again.

And the words that he’d said to her reverberated round her head, echoing over and over again. Kind words. Apologetic words. Accepting words. The vague panic and dread she’d felt ever since she’d stormed out late last night, had come straight to the surface and were now falling away from her.

Was she doing the wrong thing?

“Widow?”

“What?” Widow came to with a start, the scene in front of her flooding back. The Atlantic City beach, just off the boardwalk. The vague sound of waves in the near distance. Jackie’s earnest face, full of concern, watching her every move.

The last thing Widow had expected when she’d first set foot in Jackie’s car was to be here on the beach with her in the evening, but some twists of fate seemed determined for them to remain in each others’ company, at least for now.

First, Crystal’s abysmal texting response. If she’d told Widow earlier that she was in Miami for the week, Widow could have booked a room earlier that day. But Crystal took at least three hours to reply; probably enjoying some weed and being with her girlfriend a bit too much to notice anything else. Not that Widow could blame her.

Then the hotel. It was almost fully booked – last weekend of summer, go figure – but once Widow was set up in her room, she’d come out to find Jackie locking up the room next to her. How had they ended up next to each other? Jackie had slipped out of her jeans into a skirt and a fresh shirt; Widow had finally gotten out of her stupid uniform altogether and opted for a pair of shorts and a band shirt (Metallica, she thought, but the label had faded so she couldn’t tell).

It had been Jackie’s idea to go to the beach (“The waves will carry our problems away!” Jackie had said with an ironic eyeroll), and although Widow had scoffed at Jackie’s somewhat sarcastic thought process, she’d always found the sea oddly mesmerising.

It was eight by the time they got there, and there were still plenty of people on the sand, but Jackie had found a quieter corner, and here they sat, leaning on their elbows on a towel Jackie had grabbed from the hotel room. Jackie hitched her skirt up, hoping for a little extra tan on her legs for the end of summer.

The ocean was as an immersive experience as Widow remembered. The hiss and roar of the ebb and flow of the tide, rushing away from them. The feeling of sand under her toes, and the tiny little grains getting stuck in the palms of her hands. The salty scent in the air, mingling with a vague lavender which she recognised by now as Jackie’s perfume.

“It’s peaceful,” Widow said, half to herself.

“What is?”

“The sea.”

Jackie snorted. “No it isn’t!”

It was Widow’s turn to roll her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Jackie nudged her gently with her elbow. Widow gave her a nudge back. Suddenly they were both nudging each other over and over, like children.

The mood was slowly lightening between them; Widow feeling they weren’t quite strangers any more. They weren’t quite friends either, but when you’d comforted a twenty-six year old Canadian woman having a breakdown in the middle of nowhere on Route 76, some sort of sentimentality lingered.

“Widow, can you tell me why you told me you don’t have a home?” Jackie asked her suddenly, studying her face. “I get that you wanted to come here over that fortune, and your friend being here, but you must have lived somewhere before – this,” Jackie said, gesturing at them both, a huge simplification of what they were doing.

Jackie looked sincere, caring. If there was one thing Widow had learned, it was that Jackie wore her heart on her sleeve, and couldn’t have concealed an ulterior motive if she tried.

Damnit. Widow felt herself beginning to open at the seams at her sincerity.

“I moved to Pittsburgh to be with my uncle last year, after my mom passed away. He has a spare room, I paid him rent money, and he let me do my own thing. Only thing was …”

She sighed. “He knew I was gay; I told him back when I was nineteen. So he knows, and he says he’s fine with it. But he doesn’t want to know any more than that. If I mentioned it, there was some tension. Like he didn’t know what to say.”

Jackie nodded slowly, chewing her lip.

“My friend, Dahlia – she’s like, poker-straight, but when she was round my house last night … I dunno, maybe we were hugging a bit more or something. He told her she had to leave. He’s never told her that before.”

Widow took a shaky breath. “I guess all the tension got too much. I’m not proud of it, but I lost my temper. Called him every name I could think of. Dahlia ran away, back to her own house I guess. She wouldn’t reply to my messages. And I just – I just went upstairs, packed a bag, and went to my shift. At midnight. And after my shift, well, I didn’t really have a plan, except to get out of there.”

“Did he tell you to leave?” Jackie put a hand to her throat.

“He … actually, he didn’t. He was just,” Widow frowned, trying to remember his face. “He was totally silent, the whole time I yelled at him. Shocked, I guess. And he – he called me earlier because I didn’t come home. I just told him I was at Dahlia’s. That’s where I am anyway, normally.”

Jackie resumed her slow nod, her eyes glassy, thinking about something.

A lump had formed in Widow’s throat. She still felt ashamed for letting her temper go, but talking about it with Jackie now, she was starting to feel that she’d made the wrong decision altogether.

“He said he loved me,” she said, again the words seeming to come from her mouth without her having the chance to process them. “On the phone, I mean. And that he accepted me and we could talk later on it.”

Damnit. She was fighting back tears again. She looked up to the sky trying to stop herself crying.

“What was he like to live with?”

“He was …” Widow swallowed. “Other than that tension, he was okay. He always said how proud he was of me studying, and that an accounting qualification would mean I’d never be out of work again. He’s even got in touch with his accounts contacts, trying to get me a working placement for my final year of study.”

“It sounds as if he cares,” Jackie said gently. “Maybe he was still coming to terms with it. Some people take a bit longer. Maybe having that argument cleared the air. Made him realise how upset it made you, that he didn’t want to acknowledge your sexuality.”

Widow’s head had already made a similar connection. She knew she had a quick temper, but she also knew she had a quick cool down too. She’d cooled down almost instantly once she’d yelled at him, and now she felt a pang of remorse at everything she’d called him.

“Do you want to have a relationship with him, if he wants to?”

“I think so,” Widow muttered, “but I think we need to talk about it. Clear the air.”

“It’s your choice of course, but I think that’s a great step,” Jackie said gently.

She wore such a caring smile that it was all Widow could do to hold back her own emotion. Her head throbbed with exhaustion. She reached a hand into her bag, pulling out her cigarettes and extracting one.

Jackie wrapped an arm round Widow’s shoulder, gently pulling her towards her, and Widow leant her head onto Jackie, letting Jackie rub circles onto her arm. Her simple actions were making Widow feel oddly peaceful, her shoulder was warm and Jackie smelt faintly of lavender and some fruit-scented shampoo.

Eventually Widow had to sit forward, wipe her tears, take another drag at her cigarette. She felt like she was falling asleep again, Jackie making her feel like she was dreaming a little, and the beach was not the place to sleep.

“So, as you’ve sat on it for so long: tell me about Jan.” Widow prompted, blowing a smoke ring.

Jackie’s face switched almost instantly from concern to anger; her lips pursing into a thin line.

“Jan is – was – my girlfriend.”

Jackie surprised Widow when she reached her hand across her, taking the cigarette, and putting it to her lips, the tip glowing orange and crimson as Jackie took a drag.

“Was,” Widow nodded. “How long has she been a was, and not an is?”

Jackie exhaled a cloud of smoke, passed the cigarette back to Widow, and looked at her watch. “Oh, about ten hours.”

“Ten hours?” Widow cried, her jaw dropping. “Is that it? Holy shit.”

“I got three for the price of one this week,” Jackie spat, a sudden injection of vitriol in her voice as she held up her fingers, counting them down. “On Wednesday, I get told that my role is no longer being continued due to ‘restructuring’. Every sales rep’s favourite word.”

“Oh, God, Jackie –“

“Second,” Jackie said louder, putting another finger down, “my best friend Chelsea ditched me on Thursday, said she was sick, then she gets tagged in our friend Michelle’s insta story. She went out with Michelle all night, looking for men.”

“No!” Widow exclaimed.

“I confronted her on Friday morning. Said she can’t pull dudes with a lesbian hanging off her arm.” Jackie laughed bitterly.

Widow’s heart ached for her. “That sucks –“

“So, I told her where to go, and decided I’m gonna drive down to Pittsburgh on Saturday morning. Surprise my girlfriend, who I haven’t seen in three weeks, take her on a spontaneous trip. Booked us a hotel in AC. Planned a dirty weekend. I dunno,” Jackie continued her bitter laugh, “I thought that maybe a little bit of love would have helped, after this – fucking shit show of a week.”

The air was thick. Widow didn’t dare to shatter the tension with words. Jackie was barrelling through it, anyway, unable to stop more words spilling out of her.

“I drove through the night last night. I drove from New York to Pittsburgh. I got to Pittsburgh at half past five this morning. I slept in a fucking car park in my car for three hours. I turned up at her house. And all I can hear through the open window is – is –“

Jackie stopped, her mouth open, speechless, before putting her hands over her face. Despair wracked her body and Widow laid a hand on her back.

“I don’t know who she was, but I saw her in the back when Jan came to the door. Some tiny, muscular jock girl. And I heard Jan. She was fucking her. Behind my back, while I’m oblivious in New York.” Jackie’s tone rose in anger the longer she talked, until she was spitting the last few words like a cobra.

Widow simply rubbed Jackie’s back as she spoke, her whole body shaking with rage. But Jackie couldn’t keep it up for long, letting out a sigh and slumping forwards, her anger spent.

“I saw her in the back,” Jackie mumbled, her voice suddenly thick with sadness. “She was so pretty. Prettier than me.”

“That’s unlikely,” Widow scoffed, before feeling her face flushing with heat. Where had that come from?

But Jackie hadn’t noticed, staring into space. “What’s wrong with me?” She whispered, her voice cracking.

Widow leant her head onto Jackie’s shoulder, still rubbing her back. Jackie rested her head on top of Widow’s, hearing Jackie’s quiet sobs coming and then fading after a few minutes.

“So, Atlantic City was the end of the line,” Jackie whispered finally, raising her head with a sigh.

“You said you were visiting your grandma,” Widow muttered, lifting her head to face Jackie. “I thought the grandma was a cover up, for why you were really coming here.”

Jackie turned her face away, fixed her gaze on the line of the horizon.

“Why did you continue the trip here?” Widow pressed.

Jackie pursed her lips, pondering the question. “I guess I just … I didn’t want to go back just yet. I don’t want to get back to reality. Reality is painful right now. I mean,” she added with another bitter chuckle, “when I get back to New York, reality will mean that I’ll have no job in three months, my best friend is a bitch, and my girlfriend was cheating on me.”

Jackie gave a shrug. “Maybe seeing my grandma would cheer me up.”

All this talking was painful, but somehow, Widow found her head was feeling a little lighter, the black fog she always seemed to be in was letting her go. She lay back, resting on her head on the towel. A handful of clouds passed over them now against the slowly dying light of the sky, as the sun slowly set behind them.

Jackie lay beside her, tilting her head to one side. The scent of lavender and some fruity shampoo was making Widow feel like she was starting to dream again.

Widow sighed. “It’s been a weird fucking day,” she said eventually.

“Yeah, for sure,” Jackie murmured dreamily next to her.

Widow realised with a start that Jackie had slipped a hand into hers as they lay on the sand, interlacing their fingers, and that Widow had spent the last couple minutes running a thumb along Jackie’s.

When she stopped, Jackie hooked her own thumb over Widow’s and did the same thing in turn.

Such simple, peaceful intimacy.

Widow certainly felt like she was dreaming now, her skin tingling but her mind starting to float away.

The beach was starting to clear of people now as the air turned even colder. A few dog-walkers came here and there, and a few teenagers enjoying the last weekend of summer break before class started again. Other people around them simply minding their own business, letting Jackie and Widow float in their own hazy world.

Finally, Jackie rolled over onto her side to face Widow. “I’m getting a bit hungry. You want food?”

[evanescentform]

Kicking it Up a Bar | Shiloh and Kaden

It was after work, things had gotten crazier after the fish came down—a lot of damages which meant Shiloh was going to sites for assessments. Not to mention when she had to do actual manual labor. It left her tired and in need of a drink. Also food. She particularly enjoyed the drinks and food at Dell’s so she decided to stop by a weeknight. As she entered she headed for the counter, letting out a sigh. A game was playing on the televisions but she didn’t bother to look. It was probably American football and that wasn’t her thing. She took the empty seat next to someone and asked for one of their beers and an order of their sliders—with fish. While she didn’t always enjoy the taste of beer, it took a lot to get drunk off beers and she was driving home so she just wanted something to relax with after work. She glanced up at the television, yep it was a football match. “I can’t wait for soccer to start.” She sighed leaning her chin into her hand.

If Kaden never saw another damn karkinoid again, it would be too soon. He loved killing monsters, but damn if he was sick of getting calls about giant pain in the ass lobsters with claws that could take off a limb or two. As far as he was concerned, he'd earned himself a drink. But he was too broke and too tired to go anywhere nice and the last thing he wanted tonight was shop talk, so the Silver Bullet was out of the question. Dell's tavern it was. He practically collapsed on the bar counter when he sat down, he was so tired. Maybe he could just nap there. It was fine, it's not like he was missing a sport worth watching. All of the food was disappointing, like American "football," so he just ordered a beer for now. He was almost considering just leaving a tip and heading out when he heard something worth sticking around for. "You mean football," he corrected before even looking at the person who spoke. "Actual football, that is. Not this bullshit." He turned and saw that the woman who shared his sentiment (if not his semantics) was someone he recognized. Sort of. He narrowed his eyes and tried to place where he'd seen her before. Nope, couldn't quite recall. "Have I seen you before? Wait, did you call about the Arav-- I mean, uh, strange parrots the other day?"

Shiloh turned to him, smiling at the correction. Everyone just usually went along with it considering that’s what everyone called it here. “Sorry, guess I’ve been here too long.” However she frowned when he tried to place her. “Parrots? No?” Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head, trying to place him. “Wait, I remember you. The so—football match! I was the midfielder.” She smiled widely remembering him, having not thought she’d run into him again. “I haven’t seen you around the field lately. You’ve gotten busy?” Who wouldn’t be busy with the craziness that was happening in town. Another week another strange occurrence. It was all just background noise though. Shiloh was too preoccupied in her own life to worry about what was going on around her.

Kaden noticed the slight difference in her accent now that she'd said more than a few words. To be honest, it wasn't the sort of thing he picked up on right away. English was all English to him for the most part. But that little lilt was from the other side of the Atlantic, he heard that much. Made sense now why she was a fan of the right sport. "Yes!" he exclaimed, recognizing her now. She was one of the few out there who apparently had a clue what the hell sport they were playing. "Hard to put a face to the feet sometimes." That and she'd been a bit of a blur on the field. "Busy, yeah. That's one way of putting it." He sighed and took a swig of his beer. "I work with animal control. So I'm sure you can figure out how many calls we're getting in lately. Trust me, I'd much rather be on the field than deal with another kar-- giant lobster."

Shiloh’s smile widened as he recognized her, her mind going back to that match—it was a pretty good one too. However she winced when he said what he did for a living. “Oh yeah it must be annoying having to deal with that.” She definitely didn’t wish to be in his place. “The matches have been cancelled lately anyway. Ever since the fish started coming down.” The bartender brought her drink and she took a sip from it before continuing to speak with him. “I work in carpentry and people have been trying to get their roofs fixed but its a little difficult to say their roofs won’t break again if the fish keep falling. I don’t want to have us fix it only for it to break again. It’s not fair on them.” Even then, she probably wouldn’t charge them. She’d have to work with her dad on that. He usually gave them some sort of discount. Her father was a generous and understanding man.

“Bet no one ever expected to close fields on account of fish.” Kaden shook his head before taking another sip of his drink. If anywhere could drive him to drink, he was sure this was the town. His brows furrowed when she said she worked in carpentry. Merde. He tried to act like he wasn’t surprised that an athletic woman was working in carpentry, he felt like more of an asshole than usual for stereotyping her like that. Still, he was pretty sure she saw. Oh well, too late to take it back. “Makes sense. Merde, I can’t believe I said that makes sense after a sentence about fucking fish rain.” And another swig of his beer down. “Shocked I haven’t had to climb onto any roofs to remove the fish, now that you mention it.” Kaden rolled his eyes and reached down to grab his glass again, but paused. He felt something. A twinge. Might be nothing. But it could mean a hunting opportunity. Right there in Dell’s Tavern. He looked over his shoulder quickly, hoping he could tap into it if he saw the right person. Well, monster. But nothing more. Yet. He’d have to keep his senses sharp. All of them. “Uh, sorry. Thought I saw someone I knew,” he said as he turned back to her. “So I take it you didn't always live here. How’d you end up in White Crest?”

Shiloh drank from her glass, taking a longer sip than she expected but she really needed it. “People call you about dead animals?” Although now that she said her thoughts aloud she realized it made sense. Animal control dealt with everything animal related. In the middle of another drink, she felt her anxiety come in. She stopped drinking and looked at her glass as if it was something she drank. It couldn’t have been the alcohol, she just started. She inhaled deeply, trying to brush it off. It was fine. “Uh, I moved here cause my family inherited a great uncle’s business. The carpentry shop.” Shiloh explained, a little stilted but with a smile. She returned to her drink, completely finishing it, hoping it would make her nerves go away. “What about yourself?” She turned to Kaden, hoping he didn’t notice how uncomfortable she was starting to get.

“Yeah. It’s a glamorous job, let me tell you,” Kaden replied. “People don’t like to clean up their own messes. And a lot of people can’t stomach seeing or dealing with dead animals.” Not that he loved that part, he had to admit. But it barely bothered him by now. His beer was damn near done and he thought about calling the bartender over to order another when he felt the twinge again. There was definitely a werewolf in this bar. He kept his gaze unfocused, using his peripheral vision to get a quick survey of the room, see what he could uncover. At least get an idea who was here so he’d know if he saw one of them again and felt the same kick in the gut feeling, he’d know. “Ah, nice. Always good when you can keep things in the family, you know.” She seemed really nervous. Odd. He wasn’t acting too weird, right? Maybe his room scanning was making her nervous. Or maybe… Nah, he’d know if he was standing right next to a werewolf. At least he was pretty sure he’d fucking know. “Me?” He hesitated. Trying to figure out how to answer that. He couldn’t exactly say that he heard the monster hunting was great. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand a moment before replying “I, uh, got word of the job opening in animal control here. From a friend.” More like heard about White Crest from a hunter bar in Montreal but same thing, right?

Shiloh was about to reach for the bartender to ask for another drink when she felt her senses on high alert. Jesus Christ. She hated when this happened. All she knew was that she should probably leave sson. Sucks, cause she had ordered food and everything. “You came all this way for uh, animal control? Must have had some good perks.” She joked and got up from her seat, the feeling rising in her chest. As she moved back, she brushed arms with someone and a jolt ran through her, eyes going wide before turning to look at the large man walking through the area. “Oh… sorry,” Shiloh muttered, glancing away before looking back to Kaden. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling too well.” It was incredibly embarrassing to have a panic attack when you were talking with someone but she didn’t know what else to do but get the hell out of there. She reached into her pocket, pulling out two twenty dollar bills. “Hey, it’s on me, alright? I ordered some sliders, but feel free to eat them or whatever. I gotta go. Let’s catch up on the field.” She tried to chuckle it off, giving Kaden a small pat on the arm before bolting out of the bar.

“Hey, are you alright?” Kaden started to ask. But it was too late, she’d run out. “Uh, thanks?” He shrugged and ate the sliders when they came (wasn’t going to waste perfectly good free food). The whole time he tried to figure out what the hell just happened. Not a wolf. Couldn’t be. She’d touched him and he was waiting to figure out who the wolf was here. He’d have known. He was damn sure of that. Maybe she was just weird. Or maybe… Something to ask her about later. For now, he was going to keep hunting. After he finished dinner, of course. Never hunt on an empty stomach.

[audreyannerp]

Lola Leads

(A roleplay between @askaudreyanne / @audreyannerp and @red-rad-and-rod . It doesn’t have a real ending, but, here we gooooo.) - It was finally starting to look and feel like springtime in Michigan. The seemingly sporadic weather seemed to have finally settled on a warmer temperature. There were no more snowfalls coming out of nowhere and the plants were becoming more lively by the day. The grass was green and dusted with flecks of other colors as the flowers began to bloom. A certain freckled redhead by the name of Audrey had been looking forward to this day, more so for her furry friend than herself. Lola, a scruffy-looking mixed breed about the size of a beagle, had been Audrey's Christmas gift to herself. As such, she had never seen the local park, with the weather as cold as it was. Now, however, the young dog trotted happily next to her owner, or rather, a little ahead. She was quite the excitable one and still had trouble walking calmly with her master. It didn't help matters that she was finally getting to see a new setting and was eager to see and smell everything in the immediate vicinity. Though it took an uncountable number of pit stops, the two made it to the park. The young woman found a bench and sat down, reaching into her bag to get out a bottle of water and a doggy dish. After pouring her pet a drink and taking a sip for herself, she pet her dog's floppy ears. “That was a long walk, huh, girl?” The dog didn't respond, but simply lapped up the water vigorously. “Yeah. Can't blame ya for being thirsty,” the redhead giggled. Lola stopped to look up at Audrey, wagging her tail for a moment, before looking into the distance. Before she had a chance to respond, the dog had shot off in a blur of brown and white, taking her leash with her. “Ack! Lola! Come here, girl!”

- "I'm bored" J.C. looked over from his spot, a bench fairly close to one of the two play structures, and scoffed gently. Both Mum and Dad had work today, so lo and behold, he was tasked with watching his little sisters. No big deal, really; might as well do his standard thing and take them to the park to tire them out. Usually made for a fairly easy time afterwards. Seemed like that wasn't the case today, at least with one of them. "Syd, we've only been here for about half an hour, how can you be bored already?" Syd, currently laying on the grass near him, blew a bit of hair out of her face as a response. "You haven't even done all that much; save for surveying the play structure, checking out the swings, and nearly getting sick on the little roundabout. You tired or something? Still a bit dizzy from spinning around super fast." "No." J.C. shrugged, letting out a sigh. "Theeeen I don't know what to tell ya, kid. You can hang with me and have a boring time ooooor you can go play." He looked up to catch a glimpse at the younger of the sisters, Kat, looking like she was having a blast on the swings. "What about the swings?" "Kat's on them, and she's talkin' with another kid. Knowing them, they're gonna be on there for hours. An' there's a line for the rest of the swings...I could just go over, push some of the other kids outta the way, and jump the queue..." Syd looked to her brother, a sort of defeated look on her face, "but if I do, then you'll make me sit on one of the benches and 'think about what I did' and 'how wrong it is'." "Preeeeetty much, kiddo. Laws of the playground, can't exactly break 'em." Syd had a small chuckle at the comment, before starting to focus on something. "Y'see that?" J.C. looked in the same direction. "What?" "There's something coming in our direction....kinda small...really fast...." Suddenly, the ten-year-old let out an excited gasp. Kind of small and really fast? That usually meant... "PUPPYYYYYYYY!!!" - Despite the clear excitement of the child, Lola opted to focus her attention on the young man. She bounded over to the bench and promptly placed her front paws on his knees as she 'danced' excitedly for attention, tail wagging a mile a minute. The dog was scruffy-looking, but clearly not a stray. Aside from the collar and leash dangling from her neck, she was clearly cared for with a healthy weight and a shiny clean coat. What's more, she looked too cute for someone not to take her in. Her markings, shades of brown with a white face and underbelly, were beautiful, while her pale blue eyes practically sparkled, and her cute little pink nose was too much to resist! Audrey followed a short distance behind, putting those athletic legs of hers to work. The redhead dashed past the swing set, quickly addressing the girl Kat was talking to. “Hi, Jenna! Bye, Jenna!” With that out of the way, she continued to call for her dog. “Looooolaaaaa!” - Kat, a little confused, looked to Jenna. "You know 'er?" Jenna laughed, "Know her? I can tell you all about her...." (....) At the sound of Syd shouting, J.C. jumped a little. Jeez, she could be loud sometimes...what was that all abo...ooooh, a puppy. Of course. From what he could tell, they had a leash, tags, and they weren't some hulking looking thing (even if it was, Syd'd still go nuts. Something as big as a Newfie, she'd risk getting bowled over, regardless). Eh, as long as he kept an eye on the two of them, it shouldn't be an issu- wait, why was the dog coming towards him? Ignoring the small "Heeeey!" from Syd, J.C. looked down and gave the little dog a smile. "Heeeey there, little bit." he chuckled, "Who'd you get away from, eh?" Hearing the sound of "Looooooolaaaaaaa!", Syd pointed it the direction of where it was coming from. "Prooooobably the person shouting 'er name?" "Ah, good call." J.C. shouted back, "Over 'ere!" - The canine rested her head on his knee for a moment before she perked up at the sound of her owner growing closer. While she was happy to see her, the dog didn't approach, merely faced her with a wagging tail. “Lolaaaa,” Audrey, started with a lecturing tone, “you can't run off like that. You could get hurt.” Lola lowered her head in apology as her owner took the leash once more. “I'm sorry about her. She's still a bit of a puppy.” Lola looked up at the two of them talking, tail wagging. - J.C. chuckled, giving Lola a little pat on the head, "Mischevious little thing, aren't ya? Worrying your Mummy like that..." He looked to Audrey. "Cute little dog you've got there. Lola, was it? That's her name?" - Audrey giggled. "Thank you. Yes, this is Lola," she gestured, 'introducing' them. She may have left things at that, but the accent got her curious. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you're not from around here. Like, not even somewhat close to around here." - "Nnnnnnope!" piped up Syd, moving next to her brother. "We're from WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY across the Atlantic. ....Or...whatever degree of "way" Bristol is." - Audrey jolted slightly, not having noticed the child in the scramble for her dog. Placing a hand to her chest, she let out a wheezy laugh. "I'd say that's pretty far. Also, diggin' the hair. What are you two doing all the way over here?" - "Work." J.C. answered, "Dad works for one of those international companies, and often times, we end up coming with. Kind of like a mini-holiday, I guess you could call it." "Aaaaand 'cos he and Mum each had something they needed to take care of, we got to go to the park with this guy right here!" Syd added. - Lola looked at the child, tail wagging as she looked at her expectantly. "Ahh. That makes sense." She paused, raising a brow. "We?" - Syd giggled at Lola, "Silly puppy..." "Yup," J.C. tossuled Syd's hair a little bit, "This one right here is Syd, aaaand my other little sister should be on the swings..." he looked towards the swing and could see a blur of blonde, pink, and purple. Yep, that was her. Cool, she hadn't moved...save for the back and forth motion of the swing, but..."Yup, Kat's on the swings." "I'm 10 aaaand Kat's 8." Syd added. - "You can pet her, if you want," she smiled at Syd. "She's a friendly dog, albeit rowdy at times." Audrey turned to look towards the swing. "Ahhh. I knew there was a reason I didn't recognize her," she turned back to J.C. "I have a good reputation as a babysitter, so I've gotten to know a lot of the kids around here. For example," she pointed back towards the swings with her thumb. "That's Jenna talking to your sister. She has a baby brother on the way." - Syd's eyes lit up like it was Chrtistmas morning. Giving Audrey a quiet "Thank yoooou", she went about gently petting Lola, all the while quietly going "Puuuuuppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, puppyyyyyyyyyy....." J.C. snickered at his sister before turning to Audrey. "Aaah. Baby brother on the way, eh? That oughta be fun." - Lola rolled onto her back, exposing her underbelly as her tongue lulled out. “Yeah. I don't have any siblings myself, but I do have five younger cousins who were over at our house pretty often. Actually, that's the reason I don't have any siblings,” she snickered. “Enough kids in the house as it was.” - J.C. laughed, "Kind of sounds like our place, at least around the holidays. Syd and Kat can be a handful, but add...I don't know, at least five to ten other kids to the mix- anywhere from two years old to well into their teenage years- and it's...something, alright." "Exhausting?" Syd asked, "Is that 'cos we'll drag you outside to play?" "...To be honest, I'd rather be out with you guys than having to deal with relatives asking a number of questions." he snickered. - "Good golly, Miss Molly! That's a lot of kids! I sure hope the other adults help out, at least a little bit. I mean; I love kids, but even I need a break here and there." She chuckled. "It still is sweet of you to play with them, regardless of the awkward questions with the older relatives. Let me guess... 'How's school? Work? Are you seeing anyone? Thinking about marriage? Kids? What's in your future?' "

- J.C. chuckled, nodding. "Preeeeeetty much. At least with kids, they ask you things like what your favorite dinosaur is." "It's a brachiosaurus." Syd loudly whispered. "It most certainly is. There's usually a 'tag out' system in place, so I do get to have some 'grown up' time...speaking of questions, I....don't think we've actually officially introduced ourselves. I'm J.C., and you are?" - Audrey giggled at the dinosaur comment. “Oh, how rude of me,” she held a hand to her chest before holding it out to shake. “I'm Audrey, born and raised Michigan citizen,” she smiled widely, revealing her large front teeth. “Is this your first time here? I could recommend some good spots to visit.” - "Charmed," J.C. responded, smiling as he shook her hand. "It is...we actually came across this place by accident, so...any help or tips are greatly appreciated." - Taking her hand back, she held two fingers to her head and mock saluted. “Can do! Now, let me just think a moment here...” She put her chin in her hand as she thought. “Well, when it comes to free entertainment, you've already found one of our parks. As for spending a little cash, you can't come to Michigan and not try a Coney Dog. It's a shame you didn't come in the summer, since that's when you can get the best Coneys from Timmy's Coneys. Old Timmy only sets up shop in summer, but there are restaurants you can get them from year round.” - "Aaaah, drat. I'll have to make a note of that...if it's open only during one time of the year, they must be pretty good." "What's a coney dog?" Syd asked, "'Cos all I'm picturing is, like...you put it in an ice cream cone and put regular hot dog stuff on it." - “An ice cream cone? What makes you think- Ohhhhh, coney dog. Nahh. It's short for Coney Island Hot Dog. Basically, they take this specific kind of hot dog and top it with this meat sauce; not chili. It's something else. Anyway, it's usually topped with a heaping helping of onions and mustard. You can get them plain too though. Some people like theirs with cheese.” - "Ooooooooooooh." Syd blinked, "I don't know, I kind of like my idea more." J.C. scoffed lightly and shook his head. Kids could be such weirdos sometimes. "Well, even if we can't get them specifically from Timmy's Coneys , is that something that you'd be willing to eat after we're done here?" Syd nodded enthusiastically. "I think Kat would, too, 'cos it doesn't have green stuff on it. At least, from the sounds of it." "You want to go and ask her?" Syd gave the two a salute and ran off, yelling "PLAY NICE, YOU TWO!" to the pair. J.C. laughed, "We weren't...! Aaaaaand she's gone. Dang, she's fast." - Lola watched as Syd ran off. There goes the person giving her attention... Oh well. She rolled back over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Audrey laughed as well, taking a seat next to J.C. on the bench. “Your sister seems like a hoot and a half! I'm guessing she keeps you on your toes, huh?” - "Tiptoes is more like it." he responded, smirking a bit. "She's a character, I will give her that." - She chuckled. “I've known kids like that; like real life versions of Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes... You ever read that comic?” - "Oh, yeeeah! I read those all the time when I was a bit younger. Still do, occasionally. ...Although, I read them in French first, then went to English once my grasp on the language improved a bit..." - Audrey cocked her head to the side. Didn't his sister say they lived in Bristol? “French?” - "....Ah, right, right..." He cleared his throat a little, "See, I'm....not originally from England. Syd and Kat's mum and dad are my adoptive mum and dad. Been so since I was around 2 years old. I'm originally from France." - She slowly raised her head and lowered it as she let out a drawn out, “Ohhhhhhh.” Rather than pry for details, she simply smiled and said, “I'm glad you were able to get adopted at a young age. Adapt to your new family faster and all that. I've thought about adopting myself, but I think it's a little early to think about that sort of thing. I don't even have a boyfriend right now,” she laughed. - He gave her a smile back, as a silent way of saying thanks. "I'm thinking of doing the same, honestly. I mean, I'm happy either way- adoption or otherwise., but...kind of in the same boat; just out of school, no girlfriend...all that fun stuff." - “Not often I see a man who openly admits to wanting kids,” she giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “Shame you live across the ocean,” she joked with a wink. - J.C. chuckled, a little bit of a awkward/nervous edge to it. "Haha, yeah. It kind of be nice to have a couple of my own...I mean, there's Syd and Kat, but they're my sisters. Having a kid be your own's a little different." - “Ah, I'm just messing with you,” Audrey smiled, hoping he didn't think she was actually hitting on him. “I would imagine so. Speaking of, I wonder what those two are talking about. With how fast Syd sprinted off, you'd think she'd be back by now.” - "That's a good question...I don't hear any sort of screaming or yelling, so they're not fighting..." He snickered, "Maybe she got distracted and now they're both on the swings?" - Audrey shrugged. “Maybe. I don't mind though. I'm totally free today, so I don't mind waiting... Though I suppose those two don't have to be here for the directions. Would you rather I just tell you where to go and get out of your hair?” - "If you want; you're welcome to hang around if you don't have anywhere to be today. Besides, I think the minute Syd mentions the word 'puppy' to Kat, she'll come running over." - Audrey snickered. “I think I'll stay. Lola loves attention, I love kids, and you seem pretty nice~” - J.C. couldn't help but blush a little. "I, um....I try, heh..." All of a sudden, a more high-pitched "PUPPYYYYYYYYYY!!" came from the playground. Aaaaah, there it was...a "Kat, wait up!!" followed shortly. "Speaking of kids, sounds like Syd mentioned the 'P' word...." - “Sounds like it,” she agreed, making sure she had a firm hold on Lola's leash. Lola had perked up at the sound of the shout and was now wagging her tail eagerly, whining impatiently for what she was sure would be more attention. - Pretty soon, a little blonde girl dressed in pink and purple had joined the pair. She looked to the redhead, smiling. "Sooooo, you're Audrey, right? Jenna's been tellin' me about you." Shortly after Kat had arrived, Syd turned up, out of breath. "Easy, kiddo. Take a sec and rest." he told the smaller redhead. Syd did just that, walking over to the other open space on the bnch and plopping down with an "Oof!" "An' Syd says you've got a puppy. Can I pet her, please?" - “Mm-hm,” Audrey smiled warmly at the blonde. “And you're Kat?” Lola was currently on her hind legs, trying to pull away to reach Kat, whining all the while. “I don't think I have a choice here,” she laughed, gesturing for Kat to come over. - "Yep!" She nodded, skipping a little closer. "Hiiiiiii, puppyyyyy~!" "The name's Lola." Syd piped up. "Hiiii, Lolaaaaa~!" - Lola wagged her tail as she excitedly sniffed at the newcomer. Deciding she liked the child, the dog gave her a few licks. “She's a friendly one, isn't she? I like your outfit, by the way. Pink and purple are my favorite colors~” - "Uh-huuuuuh." Kat giggled, as Lola showed her affection. "Mine too!" - “Neat!” While Audrey was curious as to what Jenna said about her, she decided keeping the focus on the dog would make more sense. “I got her from the local shelter. The people working there said she's a mixed breed, but weren't sure what all is in her. They think she might have a bit of Border Collie in her though.” - "Oooo, Border Collie, eh?" Kat looked to J.C., "That's not one of those super big dogs, right?" J.C. smirked, "Yeeees, and I know what you're asking. You know my answer already." "Dang it." - “I'm guessing you've been wanting a dog? I know the feeling,” she smiled sympathetically. “Lola here is my first dog and I've just recently turned twenty four years old! My family's house could get so chaotic at times that a dog just seemed like it would be too much, despite my asking. Figures my parents would adopt their own dog not long after I went to college.” She shrugged. “Oh well. At least the two get along.” - Both kids looked at Audrey. Twenty-four? "...No way, you look way too young." Syd spoke up. J.C. couldn't help but laugh a little. "Syd, twenty four's not old. Nowhere near it." "You only say that 'cos you're twenty three." Kat added. "Twenty four in August, though. Point is, early to mid twenties is not old." - Audrey giggled, taking 'look way too young' as a compliment. “I sure hope not! I want to be married with kids before I'm old!” - "Human years don't work like dog years, you two." J.C. chuckled. "If that were the case, Syd would be anywhere from 56 to 78 years old." Kat snickered. J.C. looked to the little girl, "And you'd be somewhere from 48 to 64 years old, depending on breed." Syd tilted her head, looking at her sister. "Soooooo, what kinda dog d'you think she'd be? One o' those yappy little chihuahuas?" Kat gave her sister a cheeky smile, "You're probably one of those big, bumbling ones that slobbers a lot." J.C. sighed quietly, seeing where this conversation was going. "Okay, you two, tone it down a bit." - Audrey chuckled. She knew where this was going... and just how to stop it. "My parents have one of those; a little chihuahua, I mean. I should have a video of her playing with Lola on my phone, if you two can get along long enough to watch it." - Ah, Audrey was pulling out the big guns...puppy videos! Dang it, she knew one of their weaknesses! Looking begrudgingly to each other, smiling a semi-forced smile, the sisters slowly side-hugged each other in a "See? Friends!" sort of way. - She could tell the two weren't happy, but they got an A for effort. “Alrighty~ Let me just get out my phone real quick.” Digging through her purse (which she had thankfully kept on before she ran after Lola), she soon pulled out her phone, which had a unique cover. The cover was pink in color, with a pattern of purple hearts and teddy bears, as well as rhinestones scattered throughout. “Oh yeah! I'm still getting used to that,” she showed them the phone. “My cousin made this case for my birthday. Isn't it neat?!” - Syd and Kat were like a pair of puppies themselves, watching as Audrey pulled out her phone. If their ears could've perked up, they would have- the case was so cute! "Uh-huuuuuuuh." J.C. had to chuckle a bit; he didn't really know whether it was the shininess of the phone case or the promise of watching dogs playing together, but the way his sisters looked right now was pretty funny. - Audrey chuckled. “Alright alright. Enough of that. Onto the video~” Scrolling through her gallery, she found what she was looking for, turned up the brightness and volume, then pointed the screen towards the girls as she pressed play. The video started with a view of Lola and a small white chihuahua with semi long fur. The two dogs were sharing a rope toy, each with an end in their mouth. While the chihuahua tugged with all her might, Lola simply stayed still, tail wagging as she watched the smaller dog try to take the toy. “I don't think Daisy's getting that toy any time soon,” Audrey's voice could be heard from behind the camera. “Let's give her a break. Lola, come here, girl!” Rather than drop the toy and come to her master, Lola instead dragged the toy and the chihuahua over to her, resulting in cackles from those off screen. - The once squabbling siblings immediately quieted down and watched the video intently. It almost seemed like the two were in some sort of trance, giggling almost simultaneously. J.C. shook his head, amused at the girls and the dogs. - The video ended and Audrey chuckled. “Yeah. They're a hoot, alright! You want to see some pictures?” - Cue a simultaneous nod from the sisters.

- "Alrighty~" She brought up her photo album for Lola and Daisy and proceeded to flip through it. - Both girls giggled at the sight of the two. "Note to self: when these two start squabbling, find cute puppy pictures." J.C. mumbled, pretending to scribble on an invisible notepad. - Audrey giggled, then snorted. She proceeded to cover up her nose, bashful. - J.C. giggled at...well, Audrey's giggle; it was so cute! - She cleared her throat, as if to clear the awkwardness she felt away, and moved on to flip through the pictures. She had quite a few of them. “I could send you some, if you want. Though I suppose I would need your email for that.” - E-mail? Huh...that...must mean that she wanted to keep in contact?? Not that he minded, of course. It was just...they'd only JUST met. Or maybe it was because if he didn't have them, Syd and Kat would constantly be begging to go back to Michigan, just so they could find Audrey and have her show pictures of Daisy and Lola. "Uuuuuh, sure!" he said, trying not to chuckle awkwardly. First time a pretty girl had asked for his e-mail. "Do you, um...want me to type it in on your phone as a little note, or...?" - She really hadn't put much thought into it when she'd said it, but she soon realized the implications of what she'd said. Oops. Not that she would mind keeping in contact... She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Sure thing!” she said as she opened up her notes app and handed it to him. “If you get an email from 'teddy bear lover,' it's me.” - J.C. gave her a nod and quickly typed in his e-mail address. "Aaaaand if you get a response from...." His...e-mail was a liiiittle embarrasing, he thought. He had made it when he was about Syd's age, so... "...well, this, then it's me." "Bluerangerbaguette714"....seemed like a good idea at the time. He liked Power Rangers, he liked baguettes, and 7/14 was an important holiday in France. "I, uh...haven't updated it yet. Made it when I was about 10 or 11...." he chuckled nervously, face turning a bit pink. - Audrey looked at the email address and had to make a great effort not to laugh. She was trying so hard, her body was actually shaking slightly. “Makes sense,” her voice came out as a squeak. “My dad helped me pick mine so I wouldn't be embarrassed late-her-her-her!” So much for not laughing. “I'm sorr-ee-hee-hee!” - Eeeeeh, he should've seen that coming. Way to go, 10-11 year old J.C. ...Buuuuut at least he could laugh at himself. He joined in on the laughter; a little awkward at first, but it started to sound more natural as he went on laughing. "It is kind of ridiculous, looking back on it." he admitted. - Audrey held a hand to her face, trying to stifle the laughter. “It's not that funny! I just told myself not to laugh and that made it hilarious!” Her laughter did die down to a snicker and Lola looked at the two in confusion. - "I mean, if you imagine something like..." he began to "demonstrate" a few Power Rangers-like poses and trying to say random things in French as epically as he could, "...while thinking of it, then...I mean, that's usually what I think of anytime I read that." - She snickered a few more times at the poses. “As someone who knows karate, that just makes it more hilarious.” - Syd snickered at her brother. "You're a dork, J.C." "The dorkiest~" he responded. "The dorkiest in all the la- wait a sec...karate??" Syd asked, turning her focus to karate. "You knowkarate??" - “Mm-hm~” she nodded. “I may not be the violent type, but karate is good for blowing of steam and is a good confidence booster. I may not be the brightest, but at least I can raise my foot above my head.” She smiled awkwardly. “That's what I like to tell myself, anyway.” - "Show me!!" Syd said, bouncing on her heels excitedly, "Please??" - “Raise my foot above my head? Sure!” She stood up from her seat on the bench and proceeded to do a few stretches before lifting her leg almost completely vertically. “Don't try this at home, kids. Not without lots of practice, anyway.” - All 3 Malones (Syd, mainly-followed by J.C. and Kat in terms of intensity) went wide eyed. "Hoooooly crud!" Syd gasped, awestruck. - Audrey chuckled and brought her leg back down. “Yeah. I've been practicing this sort of stuff since I was a kid.” - "Not to brag, but..." Syd dusted off her knuckles, "I, uh....I do a bit of karate myself." "I don't think what you do is actually karate," Kat piped up, "I think that's more like flailing about." Syd "hmmph"ed, took a few steps back, and demonstrated some of her "moves". - “Hmmm... I'd say that was more... avant-garde karate than traditional karate.” Translation: You're not very good, but I don't want to hurt your feelings. - Syd smirked at her sister. "See? She knows talent when she sees it." - Audrey simply smiled and nodded. Best not to break her confidence. She'd offer to teach her some moves, but she doubted she'd see the trio again anytime soon. - "Whateeeever you say." Kat mumbled quietly, rolling her eyes at her sister. " 'S gonna come in handy when I get a job when I'm older." Syd added. "...What was that again?" J.C. asked. With Syd, it changed just about every couple of weeks. "Circus performer/bodyguard/secret agent...with a penthouse." - "I'm guessing you're aiming for a more physical line of work then? Can't blame ya. I'm a personal trainer myself." - "Oooo, that sounds like a good idea, too! Maybe add that to the list..." J.C. chuckled, "With a physique like that, I wouldn't be surprised." Maybe that was a little too forward? He coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Good surprised, though. You, ah...I imagine you're very skilled at your job- helping people with getting into shape. - “My physique? You haven't even seen me out of these clothes,” she laughed, before realizing what she said. “N-not like that!” she stammered. “I meant out of these specific clothes! My workout clothes show more.” - "I, um...I'd hope so? N-not in a weird way! Just....so you don't get overheated or anything; speeding up the dehydration process while exercising is rather risky, and..." His voice began to trail off, "I'm...gonna stop talking now...I...made it awkward..." Syd looked between the two, smirking a bit to herself. Super friendly to each other AND awkward when they think they've made a misstep? Oooo, was Cupid nearby~? - “No, no; it's fine,” she chuckled. “I know what you meant. It's good to dress for your workout; don't overheat or sweat up your regular clothes.” She sat back down and began petting Lola. “Though I know some prefer the less revealing clothes. I used to be the same. Took me a while to get past some of my self esteem issues, y'know? You just gotta get a breathable material.” - J.C. nodded, understanding the "self-esteem issue" thing all too well. Not really wanting to dive into that (mainly because...well, come on, he and Audrey had just met), he focused more on the breathable fabric thing."Yeah. That way it's like...when a person's all done workin' out for the day, they're not dripping with sweat or smelling like an old pair of socks." - Audrey snickered. “Depends on your definition of a workout. That's why we have showers at the gym~” She paused for a moment. “Weren't we talking about stuff to do in Michigan? How'd we get here?” she laughed. - Oh thank goodness, the subject changed. He laughed, "Dunno, that's actually a really good question..." "Can I go back an' play now?" Kat asked. "Go for it." J.C. told her, giving her a small nod and taking a glance at his watch. " 'Bout 30 more minutes, alright? I want to get you guys fed, too." "Can we get those coney dogs??" Syd asked. J.C. shrugged, "Yeah, sure. Probably the only time we're going to be able to get them, so why not?" "Sweet!" Syd gave Lola a quick pet before running back to the playground. "Last one there's a rotten egg!" she called to Kat. The little blonde mimicked her sister's actions, instead yelling "Bye, Audrey! It was nice to meet you!" "What she said!!" Syd shouted back. - “Same to you!” she called out before relaxing back against the bench. “They seemed nice~ I should probably give you directions before I forget.” She proceeded to dig through her purse. “I'm sure I have a pen and paper in here somewhere... Also; while it's not limited to Michigan, it seems to be a northern U.S. thing. If you can find Blue Moon ice cream, go ahead and try some. I can't really describe the flavor, but I love the stuff. If you've ever had Superman ice cream, it's basically the blue part in that.” - J.C. chuckled. "They try. Kind of nice that they're screaming more from running around than fighting. Iiii...don't think I've had that flavour before, but with a name like 'Superman', that might sound like something Syd'll like. May as well try some Blue Moon just for the heck of it, y'know?" - Having pulled a notebook and a pen, Audrey proceeded to jot down the directions. “Yup yup! Always nice to try something new~” In addition to the directions, she jotted down a few other places they could look into while in Michigan. - "Haha, yeah. I should tell that to Kat, or as I call her: 'Little Miss No-Greens'. She'll eat her fruits and veg, yeah, but only if they aren't green. ...Good thing it's 'Blue Moon' ice cream and not...'Green Moon'." Okay, so that was kind of a lame joke, but hey. Glancing over at her writing, he smiled a bit. Not only writing down the names of places, but directions, too! "...Forgive me if this sounds a bit weird, but...you have really nice handwriting." - Audrey chuckled at the green moon joke, then giggled at the compliment of her handwriting. “Not weird,” she assured as she bashfully played with her hair, twirling a short curl around her finger. It was nice to get a compliment on something that wasn't her physique. “I take a lot of notes. Helps me remember things.” - He nodded, "Always good, always good. Nothing worse than having something super important you need to do or get, then completely forgetting to. Like... 'don't forget the milk....don't forget the milk....wait, what was I getting?...Ah, crud! I forgot the milk!" - Audrey snickered. “Yeah. That's why I write everything down,” she flipped through her notebook to show page upon page of notes. “I've had friends ask how I got them the perfect gift, and I'm like, 'Remember how you were talking about that thing three months ago? Yeah. I wrote it down.'” She flipped a page and twirled her pen. “Speaking of, how do you spell your sisters' names? I wanna write them down. Yours too... I'm imagining there's more to your name than a J and a C.“ - "I should start doing that," he noted, "Did it a lot more while I was still in school, but having recently graduated, eeeeh....not so much. Would be good to get back into the habit." At the "more than a J and a C" comment, he chuckled. "I would hope so, otherwise my parents were very lazy. It's short for Jean-Claude: J-E-A-N, dash ,C-L-A-U-D-E. Syd's is S-Y-D-N-E-Y, and Kat's is K-A-T-R-I-N-A." - “A-ha! It's a good thing I asked,” she proceeded to write the names down. “I definitely would have spelled those wrong otherwise. You never know; that Greg could be spelled with two Gs at the end or something.” - "Haha, yeah! Or the 'Christopher' that you pass by every day spells it as 'K-R-I-S-T-O-F-F-E-R." he replied, offering an example. - “Oh goodness. That reminds me of a comedian talking about names who said he met a girl named Amy, but it was spelled A-Y-M-I-E. I think it was Brian Regan.” - J.C. had to laugh, "Or you get a name that has about seven different consonants all piled together, but it's pronounced as 'Jim'." - Audrey snickered. "Okay; now you're just making stuff up." - J.C. gave her a cheeky smile. "Maaaaybe just a little, yeah." - “Your sister was right. You are a dork,” she grinned. - "Now if only being a dork was a profession." he snickered, "I'm overqualified." - “You'd have some stiff competition. I've memorized at least half the recent My Little Pony songs word for word. And let's not forget all the Disney songs.” - "If it's any consolation, I do a meeeean rendition of 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'...granted, I'm always designated as Zazu, but hey." J.C. shrugged, "Now my 'Winter Wrap Up' can use a bit of work, but..." - He knew My Little Pony too? Nice! Audrey grinned before softly singing one of Nala's lines. “No one saying be there~” - Cue him responding with a "No one saying 'Stop that!' " - “No one saying seeee heeeere~” She jokingly thought that, if he joined her on that line, he must be her soulmate. - He did indeed, laughing a bit as he did so. - Audrey laughed as well, unable to believe he actually did it. “Oh, wow. You're the first guy who's ever sung Disney with me... Well, besides kids... and my dad... Okay; the first adult male who isn't related to me.” - J.C. shrugged, smiling, "Hey, you have to admit that they are pretty catchy, so it's kind of hard not to. ...Well, that and it's pretty fun to sing along to stuff, anyway." - She nodded in agreement. “It's a little different when you're in front of other people though.” She rubbed her arm, smiling bashfully. “I'm usually a bit shy with that sort of thing, but, I dunno, you seem... safe? for lack of a better word. Like, I don't imagine you would make fun of me. Then again, we did just meet, but, eh,” she shrugged. “just a feeling.” - 'Safe', awwww~ That was kind of the way he felt about her, too. His heart felt like it was burning with something. Not heartburn or anything like that, but more like...some warm affection-type feelings. They appeared to be past the level of acquaintance and more on the level of "friends who hadn't seen each other in years"...which was kind of strange, since they'd just met. Best not to question it, though.... He gave her a gentle smile, "It sucks being on the end where you get laughed at. I know from experience, it's...not the best feeling. So I make it a point not to do that to others, y'know? Break the cycle, treat others how you want to be, something along those lines..." - “Woof,” Audrey exhaled, looking towards the sky. “Tell me about it. I was prime bully bait as a kid. Not only did I have plenty to make fun of, I cried really easy, so they always got a reaction.” - J.C. mimicked Audrey's actions, "My main 'points of fault', I say with heavy emphasis on the air quotes, were the fact that I was still learning English, my accent- a lot heavier at the time- my glasses... the list goes on and on." - She sat back up and pointed to her front teeth, which were fairly large in comparison to the rest of her teeth. “You see these? This is after I've grown into them.” She paused for a moment, looking confused. “Who makes fun of a French-English accent?!” she exclaimed as she threw her hands up. “Those are, like, the best accents to have!” - "At least they weren't missing...? I know that's not a lot of help, but..." he pointed to his, "These two are actually fake. Got my two adult teeth knocked clean out when I was a little older than Syd. Took a while to get the implants, so..." he blew a bit of air out of his nose, "Bet you can guess how well that went over with the little buttmunches that were in my class. The real kicker was when I finally got them and sounded like Daffy Duck for a solid month and a half." He rubbed the back of his neck, "That....probably isn't much help, and I don't mean to make it sound like I'm taking the conversation away from you, but...I dunno, that whole 'safe' feeling you said you have with me kind of...extends over from me to you, too." - “Cheese on a cracker!” Audrey exclaimed with a hand to her chest. “That's horrible! How on earth did they manage that; a hammer?!” She waved her hands. “Oh no no no no. It's fine. I'm talking to you, not at you.” - He gave her a nod, a sort of not verbal way of saying "I understand", before continuing. "More like running into a tree...going down a hill on a bike...at near full speed....as part of a dare from a couple of older boys. The bit they forgot to mention was that I had to jump off the bike before it hit." He sighed, shaking his head, "Y'know, part of that was my fault for taking the dare, but...11 year old me didn't want them thinkin' I was a chicken or anything." He smirked, another thought occurring to him, "Althooooough....I knew one of the older kids, so before I went home, I went to his house first and showed his parents- who knew my parents and were good friends with them- what happened." - Audrey grimaced, recoiling at the thought of such a stunt. “I'm sure that was a delight for them to see,” she shuddered before shaking her head to rid herself of the thought. “My dad actually had to have a veneer in high school. He got in a fight, something he never does, because the guy made my mom cry. They barely knew each other at the time, but Dad was smitten with her from day one. Anyway, he was beaten to a pulp and lost a chunk of tooth, but he married my mom in the end so... yaaaayyy...” she waved her hands. - "Ooof..." J.C. had to cringe at the thought, "Buuuut...I guess in the end, it all worked out? Better than my parents. ...I'm...not 100% sure of how my birth parents met, but my current ones...that's a different story. Short and skinny is that they knew each other as kids, Mum was a right pillock to Dad, she moved away, then they re-united in uni and I guess...everything worked out? Apologies, burying the hatchet, all that good stuff." - “Huh,” she shrugged, “Fair enough.” She paused to look down at Lola. “I wonder if she knew we would get along somehow. Like some sort of doggy sixth sense. I mean, out of all the people in the park, she went straight for you.” - He chuckled, "I dunno...I mean, the same tends to happen when people ask me to hold their babies and they're all smiles and whatnot. I don't even do much, other than give them a 'Hey, what's up, little darlin'?' or 'Salut, petit lapin!' and I'm getting this few-toothed smile." He stopped and thought for a second, "I mean...people aren't handing me babies all the time, but...you get what I mean, right?" - Audrey tittered at the thought. “Come, Julia! We must find a kind stranger to hold our baby!” - J.C. started to go into a giggle fit, trying to picture the scenario. - Audrey did as well. Meanwhile... While Edward wasn't the boss, he was well respected in his workplace. He was a hard worker and had been with the company for over twenty years. He knew the inner workings of things and could navigate the building blindfolded. While he may not be the most social, he was certainly polite and was sure to greet the employee from their English branch. “Roger Malone, was it?” the exceedingly tall man inquired, holding out his hand to shake. - New country, new people...at least it's the same company? Albeit, a different branch, but...stiiill the same company, so not all that much should be that different. Kind of wished that Reggie or Eric had come along, that way I'd at least know someone... "Roger Malone, was it?" came a voice. Snapping out of his little funk, the Englishman smiled in the direction it was coming from. Ah! Now time to match a voice to a faaaaa....hoooooly moley, this guy was huge! Was...was that who that voice belonged to? Only one way to find out.... "Aaah, yes! Yes, that's me." he chuckled, "I know I have a few names I was supposed to remember, so I'm going to take a stab in the dark, and say yooooou're..." David? Jack? Not a Sandra, that was for sure... "...Edward?" - "First try; impressive. Edward Davis; yes," he nodded. "I believe the meeting is in," he checked his watch, "about fifteen minutes. So you should have time to learn your way around or stop by the breakroom. There may still be a doughnut or two, if you hurry." - Roger gave him a nod. Sure, this guy seemed really intimidating, but...it wasn't like he was trying to assert his dominance over him? Nothing like "Move it, peasant, there are doughnuts with MY name on it in the breakroom." "Duly noted...perhaps a little stroll around, then, ah...get down to business, eh?" Totally nailed that office small talk. - Edward simply nodded, not acknowledging the awkwardness. He could be awkward himself, when out of his element. “I'll leave you to it then. If you need help with anything, Sandra should be happy to assist. She's pretty easy to spot with her curly blonde hair and large glasses. If you can't find her, well, it's pretty hard to miss me,” he chuckled slightly. - "Curly hair, large glasses...got it. Cheers, mate." he gave him a smile and a nod before heading off. Hmm, maybe this guy would be the guy to stick to during this whole shebang. Seemed like he knew what was up. - Edward did the same and went about his business until it was time for the meeting. The meeting went about as well as one could expect, if a little longer than usual to fill in the newcomer. Statistics were discussed, questions were asked, ideas were suggested, and progress was made. Satisfied, the higher ups dismissed the others to go about their usual business. - The question was...what...exactly was his usual business now? Roger's usual usual business involved bumming around with Reg and Eric for a little bit before getting back to work, but they were back in England. Then he got a glimpse of Edward again. He knew his way around...would he mind if he just shadowed him for a bit? "Aaah, Edward?" - Edward turned around and raised a brow at the Brit. "Yes? Can I help you?" - "Er, perhaps." He cleared his throat, obviously a little nervous, "Would it...trouble you if I, ah...shadowed you for a little while? You're the only face that I can actually immediately place. I don't know if our positions are equivalents to one another, but...it's always good to know a little about a lot?" Translation: Holy cow, I'm beyond awkward around here, please let me just stay under your wing for a bit. - Thankfully, Edward decided to show mercy on the awkward man. “That shouldn't be a problem, as long as you don't go shouting in my ear while I'm trying to work or something.” He made a subtle gesture with his head to follow him before heading for his office. The inside of his office was a strange mix of sterile and welcoming. While he had various degrees on his walls with pens and papers arranged just so, he also had photos and childish nick-knacks scattered about. Seemed he wasn't the only influence on his office. - "Oh! Noooo, no, no, no, I usually keep to myself, anyway. Perhaps a little chatter here and there with a couple of colleagues, but otherwise..." Upon entering the office, the sterility offset him juuuust a tad. Sure, Roger was a rather tidy man as well, but this was perhaps a step up from his level of cleanliness. Then he caught sight of the photos and little "decorations". Resisting the urge to breathe a sigh of relief ("Oh thank god, he's human"), Roger couldn't help but crack a small smile, having a couple in his own little office space back home. Must be a "dad" thing- having a couple little "projects" your kids have done just hanging around in your workspace. "Family man, eh?" he asked, breaking the silence. - “They're my world,” he admitted, smiling softly and making his front teeth even more prominent. Turning a frame on his desk to face the other man, the photo revealed a recent photo of his wife and daughter. The two women shared the traits of red hair, green eyes, and freckles. The daughter had short hair while the mother had long hair. Another major difference between them, besides their ages, was the fact the mother was short and of an average build while the daughter was taller with an athletic build. “My wife, Abigail, and our daughter, Audrey. Quite the family resemblance, isn't there?” he smiled widely, proud of his girls. Edward almost seemed to become another person when it came to his family. - Roger had to chuckle a little; to think that this scary looking guy was a big ol' softie. "They're lovely~" he responded, as he started to dig out his wallet. If they were going to do an impromptu show and tell, then he supposed it was his turn. "Let's see..." Finally getting the wallet out, Roger dug around and found a more recent photo of his family. "Aha!" He handed it over to Edward, "This one took a few tries, since everyone wanted to muck about, buuuut..." In it were him, a blonde woman who was a couple inches shorter (and had a looser sense of dressing; nice jeans and a shirt as opposed to Roger's shirt and tie deal), a young man close to his height and in a rugby shirt, and two young girls: one with hair a shade or two darker than her mother's and dressed a little more "girly"(t-shirt and a skort), and one with bright red hair, dressed more casually: sweatshirt and shorts...and a purposefully goofy smile. "My wife Charlotte, my son J.C., and my daughters: Katrina and Sydney." he said, pointing each of them out. - Edward took the photo and adjusted his glasses as he got a good look. “You still have young ones, I see. One of them pretty mischievous, from the looks of it,” he smirked as he handed the picture back. “Thankfully the more mischievous of my family are my nieces and nephews and not my responsibility... They're nothing compared to their mothers though.” - Roger chuckled, both at Edward's comment on his picture and his "not my responsibility" comment. "Yeeeeah, haha. Could be worse...one of Charlotte's siblings has triplets, who've just turned two." - “Three terrible twos? I'm good with numbers, but I don't have an answer to that. Speaking of multiples; my wife's older sisters are identical twins. Quite literally double trouble, given their natures.” - "They don't either, apparently. Just kind of taking it a day at a time. " he laughed, "Twins, eh? Interesting! My wife's older brothers are twins as well. Fraternal, though." - “Huh. Small world,” he mused aloud as he sat down at his desk and began typing away. “Sorry. We can keep talking. I just feel the need to be productive while we do so.” Working was practically a compulsion for the man. - "Guess so." he chuckled. "And that's totally alright." Granted, as he said that, Roger had sort of...run out of things to talk about other than the weather... - The room was silent for a bit, save for the click-clacking of the computer keys. “...Would it be alright with you if I put some music on?” He usually listened to music while he worked. While this was usually done via headphones, he didn't want to appear as though he was ignoring the man, nor did he want to leave him in awkward silence. - Roger gave him a nod. "Go for it." Hey, potential new topic of conversation! "What, ah...what sort of music are you into, out of curiosity?" - Edward proceeded to take out an iPod from one of his drawers and skim through his music. “It's difficult to pinpoint, honestly. I listen to multiple genres and it can vary depending on my mood.” Now, what might the average person like? “...How about some pop rock?” - Roger shrugged, "Fine by me." - Edward nodded and brought up the playlist. Upon pressing play, Michael Jackson's Thriller started through the iPod's speaker. - A smile started to spread across Roger's face. "Heh. Usually anytime I hear this, it's from Sydney blasting it the morning of October 31st. I find it interesting that it was actually released almost an entire month after Halloween, yet that's what a lot of people associate the song with..." - “Not surprising, given the theme of the song and the accompanying music video. I really appreciate the choreography in that video.” - "Right? To be honest, the one that gets me is 'Beat It'; albeit more so for the whole 'two legitimate rival gangs' thing. To think they were able to not completely brutalize each other honestly astounds me." - “Couldn't have been easy,” he remarked as he typed. “Shame music and dancing can't really solve your problems, like in the movies.” - Roger chuckled, "Yeeeah. If it was able to, my wife and I would have been friends starting in childhood, as opposed to establishing a friendship during university. Long story." - “Actually, if it weren't for conflict, I likely wouldn't have wound up with my wife. Also a long story.” - ...Huh. Interesting... "I mean...I'm up for sharing mine; I'm not sure about you. Though, I am curious. If you're comfortable sharing, would you like to elaborate first or shall I?" - Edward took a look at his watch, before scooting away from his desk and facing his chair towards Roger. If they were going into long stories, he could at least give him his full attention. “I have some time. Go ahead,” he gestured slightly with his hand. - Roger gave him a small nod, found an available chair, sat, and took a deep breath. "Fair enough. Right, let's see...both her and I were born in and spent most of our childhood in Liverpool. It's a fairly sizeable city, however, the two of us ended up attending the same primary school. Her by her own volition, and myself since my mother was the headmistress. Her being a 'rebel' and me being a 'toffee-nose' as she called it, Charlotte wasn't exactly keen on me, or a number of other students. Or teachers, for that matter. She was a...er, perhaps a couple of steps above being considered a 'troublemaker'- enough to the point where she ended up being expelled. Now, after that, there were several rumours that had gone around; saying she ended up in prison, fled the country..." He chuckled, thinking back on some of the other rumors that circulated, "In actuality, she went to another school. Save for perhaps...two or three times in between, neither of us saw each other again until university. We ended up being paired together for a project. I was still considered as a bit of 'teacher's pet', whereas she never really left her 'rebellious' phase. The process itself was akin to pulling teeth, but eventually, we found out that the two of us knew each other...albeit, our last memories of one another were not exactly the best, per se. It took a number of months. but eventually, she had opened up quite a bit and ended up apologizing for the grief she'd caused me as a lad. " He smiled slightly, "After that, we just started hanging out together, and lo and behold, sometime later we ended up getting married and raising three children." - Edward listened and nodded politely as the other spoke. “That's a nice story. Not everyone gets an apology from someone who wronged them, let alone marries them.” - Roger shrugged, chuckling. "I guess she really needed was some time to mature. Same for me, as well. Come a bit out of my shell and all." - Edward nodded. “I know the feeling. Abigail makes sure I don't keep to myself too much. As for our story... how much time do you have? I have a tendency to wax poetic with this sort of thing.” - Roger laughed, "I've got all day, mate. Lay it on me." - “Very well.” Smiling, he began his story. “Abigail... I'll never forget the moment I saw her... It was during my junior year of high school. I was on my way to class when, among the cacophony of locker doors slamming, the squeaking of shoes on the hallway floor, and the incessant chatter of students, I heard the most beautiful sound to ever grace my ears. It was a giggle, soft and pure, conveying the warmth and happiness one would expect of an angel. That's what she was, an angel. And, just as one would expect of an ethereal being, I was only able to catch a glimpse of her as she passed by. Hair the color of the rising sun and eyes that sparkled like emeralds, she was, and still is, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I was completely in awe. I had no idea how a girl as beautiful as her could exist, nor how I couldn't have noticed her until that point. While I've never been able to answer the first question, it wasn't long until I was able to answer the latter. I'd never seen her before because she had only just begun attending our school.” He did warn Roger he could wax poetic. The rest of his story was just as eloquently worded; covering how, though he admired her, he didn't pursue her, how he tried to be happy for her when she began dating a bully of his, the rage he felt when the other had taken advantage of her, the fight for her honor that he lost, and the gratitude Abigail had for his attempt. - ....Man, he wasn't kidding. Edward was practically a reincarnation of Shakespeare- armed with a silver tongue and a talent for creating crystal clear imagery. It was almost as if Roger was there himself, observing from the sidelines. "That was....forgive me for being so emotional, but..." Roger wiped some stray tears from his eyes. "That was absolutely beautiful..." - Edward chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as a blush painted his features. “The story itself or the way I told it?” - "Both. Any of those degrees you hold happen to be an English or Literature one?" - He chuckled once more. “I'm afraid not. My interest in the arts is not something I've pursued outside of hobbies. I was encouraged to pursue a stable career path, in my youth.” - "Aaah. I mean...perhaps having it as a hobby is slightly better than a career? In those fields, I have been told that how much you make- if anything- is all dependent on luck. With your talent, I imagine you would be able to have been noticed fairly easily, but...perhaps it would be more stressful, in a sense. There are deadlines in an office setting, yes, but deadlines in an artistic sense...what if you're in a creative slump but need to produce something the next day and are unable to?" He chuckled nervously, hoping that his 'spitballing' of sorts made at least some sense. "That's all a matter of opinion , I suppose. I-I don't consider myself as one of those types that thinks that being an artist, in any medium, isn't a career..." - “Exactly. I don't think I'd be able to think and create freely whilst simultaneously being restricted by deadlines.” He sighed slightly and smiled. “Besides, I'm quite content with where I am now. I'm not looking for fame. I have a job that provides for my family and I can still engage in my interests as hobbies.” - Roger nodded, smiling as well, "So all in all, it sort of worked out." - “Pretty much.” He checked his watch, brows rising at the time. “I really talked your ear off there. It's almost lunch. Speaking of, I can recommend some good places to eat, if you haven't been here before.” - "Is it?" Roger checked his as well, and eyebrows shooting up as a result. "Ah, so it is. Time flies when you're having fun, I suppose. That would be great, actually! I've been to the States several times, but not Michigan...so I'm not sure what this place does and doesn't have." - "It would be remiss of me to not mention coney dogs while you're here. Other states have tried to make them, but Michigan really is the best place to get one. Though the absolute best place to get one is a little shop only open in the summer, but I know a place that's a close second." - "Aw, drat...but hey, second best is better than nothing I suppose!" Roger paused, "What, ah...what exactly is a coney dog, if you don't mind my asking?" - Edward laughed, or rather, exhaled through his nose. “It's basically a really good hot dog topped with a seasoned meat sauce, onions, and mustard. Not to be confused with a chili dog. While not gourmet food, it's sort of a local specialty that I've yet to see done just right anywhere else.” - Roger nodded as he listened. "Ah! Definitely sounds like something the kids will eat, so if need be, that covers dinner...probably will have one for myself as well- just to say that I've tried it." - “I certainly recommend it. Jackson is serious about its coney dogs, so if you ever want to try one, here's the place... Now I'm craving one, honestly. You want to come with me so I can show you where it is?” - Roger chuckled, "Might as well." - Back at the park, Audrey parted ways with the trio of tourists to take Lola back home. Energetic as she was, a puppy needed her rest. In fact, Audrey had to carry the pooped pooch part of the way home. When lunchtime rolled around, the redhead found herself craving a Coney dog something fierce. She didn't want to come across as though she was following the group, but she figured they would have already eaten and left by the time she got there. Upon reaching the restaurant, Audrey was surprised to see a different familiar face exiting his car. “Hi, Dad!” Audrey called from across the parking lot. What were the odds? “Hi, sweetie!” Edward called back. - Upon arriving, Roger stayed in the car for a brief second to send a quick text to his son. When it sent, he unbuckled his seatbelt and joined Edward, chuckling a bit at the two's interaction. "Ah! Daughter, right?" After Audrey left, it was soon time for J.C. and the kiddos to head on out. As expected, Syd and Kat had worked up an appetite, and started getting into a bit of a "discussion" over what to have. To keep them from going at it the entire time they were walking, the older brother told them that he already had a place in mind. ...Granted, that meant he'd have to deal with the two of them going "Where're we going?", "C'mon, tell us!", and "No, wait, lemme guess, it's THIS place!", but hey- they weren't fighting. Pulling out his phone to check the time, he noticed that he had a text from his dad: If you're in the area, I'm grabbing lunch with a colleague. If the girls can't agree on somewhere, here's the place's address..." The young adult chuckled, texting back You must be a mind reader, we're actually on our way there now. Be there in 7-10 min. - Audrey cocked her head, confused, but smiled. It wasn't often she saw her father outside the office with someone she hadn't seen before, but she saw it as a good thing.

"Indeed I am~"

Edward beamed and placed a hand on her shoulder, always happy to introduce his daughter to someone.

"Hard to believe I helped make this beautiful young woman, isn't it?" Edward laughed.

"Daaaaaaaaddyyyyyyy," Audrey covered her face, but smiled all the same. - Roger chuckled, "Well, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Roger Malone, I'm, ah...sort of your father's shadow today." - Audrey raised a brow, not quite sure what he meant by that. “He works for a foreign branch of my company and has decided to stick close to me during his visit here," Edward explained. "Oohhh," Audrey nodded. "It's funny you should mention that. I actually met three people from England today. Well, two girls from England and one man originally from France..." - Roger raised an eyebrow and had to hold back a small smirk, "Let me guess...one of the girls had bright red hair, the other was blonde, and the man had glasses?" - Audrey blinked. "Yeah. How'd you know- wait..." she started snickering. "You're their dad, aren't you?" - The man chuckled, "Indeed I am." - "What are the odds?" Audrey laughed. "Wait... uh-oh..." Edward looked confused. "Why uh-oh?" "Now they're gonna think I'm following them," she half whined. "I told them about this place, but I thought they would have been here and left by now." "I doubt that will be a problem," her father assured. "Besides, who would be disappointed to see you again?" he smiled and ruffled her hair. "Dad..." she sighed. - Roger smiled slightly. "I sent him a text, he said he'd be here in no more than 10 minutes or so. May be a bit longer since he's got two little munchkins in tow, but we'll see." - "No more, but maybe longer," Audrey snickered. "Ahhh, I'm just kidding." - The father chuckled, "You never know." - Her smile faltered a bit. "Sooo, should I leave orrr...?" - "Nooo, no, no, no, no! You're welcome to stay, I don't see it being an issue at all." He looked to Edward, "Besides, lunch with your children- regardless of age- is always a nice change from grabbing something by yourself." - "I suppose it's like a daddy daughter double day... with a son," she smiled awkwardly. - "In a sense, yes." Roger chuckled, "Should we be heading over to get some food, or would you rather we wait for the other three?" - "It wouldn't be very polite to eat before everyone is seated, let alone before everyone is in the building," Edward remarked. - "Ah, true, true." He put a hand to his forehead and gasped, trying to be dramatic and funny. "A most shameful misstep on my part." - Audrey snorted at this as Edward exhaled through his nose. - Roger chuckled and straightened himself up. Seemed as though goofiness ran in the family... Meanwhile, about 2 minutes away... "J.C., come ON! Where're we going?!" Syd whined. "I told you, it's a surprise~" he said, teasing her a bit. - "-and then Lola just bolted over to them! J.C., specifically. I don't know what her deal was, but she went straight for him. Maybe she smelled the different country on him somehow," Audrey laughed. - Roger laughed, "Quite possibly! I know that there's the belief that animals and children can sense something in people, be that good or bad, so who knows..." "I don't WANT a surprise; I want food!" "Really? Huh, that's a first...fine, I'll tell you. You remember that place that Audrey was talking about earlier?" Upon being asked this, the ten year old started to calm down a bit. "...The one with the hot dogs?" "Well, coney dogs, to be more specific, but yes. And we have a guest joining us...." That seemed to perk the two up a bit. Food AND company... - "Well, she wanted attention from him, so I imagine she sensed good," she shrugged. "She certainly liked all the attention the girls gave her; that's for sure!" - Roger chuckled, "Aaaah, looks like I'm going to be getting the 'Dad, can we get a dog??' question when they get here..." - "Their brother already answered that, I think," she snickered. - "Hopefully, he went with what I told him, and not 'heck yeah, let's go down and get one right now." the father chuckled. "Are we there yet?" Kat asked. J.C. took a quick look at the street signs, then off into the distance, trying to see if the place across the street was indeed the name of the place that Audrey had recommended. "Aaaaah, I think so?" He saw a couple of people standing in the parking lot, one soooort of looking like their dad? He wasn't 100% sure. What he did know was that there was a guy who was huge..."C'mon, let's go check it out." Once they were safely across the street, Syd and Kat's eyes grew huge, recognizing a familiar face. So THAT'S who their surprise guest was! Even before J.C. could recognize who it was, the girls dashed off. Initially thinking that the two were coming to him, Roger, turning his head at the sound of a "YAAAAAAAAAAY!!" from Syd, knelt down and braced for impact. ...Only...they didn't go for him... "Audreeeeey!!" Kat happily cooed, "J.C. was right, this WAS a surprise!" - "Hi, girls!"Audrey laughed, hugging the two. "Didn't think I'd see you guys again so soon!" She smiled apologetically and shrugged at their father. "She has a way with kids," Edward quietly informed Roger. - "Apparently. They blew right past me..." the dad chuckled. Wow, they seemed excited...did they miss Dad that much? Once J.C. got closer, he couldn't help but smile. This was a nice surprise! Upon reaching his father, he put an arm around him. "I'm surprised they didn't knock her over..."

- "She is a strong one," Edward commented. "Turns out your dad and my dad work for the same company," Audrey gestured to the respective fathers. "What are the odds, huh?" - "They do?" Kat asked. Looking to where Audrey gestures, she finally noticed Roger and made a bee-line for him. "Daddy!" While Roger pulled his youngest into a one armed hug (the other arm being around J.C.), Syd, meanwhile, stayed silent and with Audrey, looking at her father...or whoever that gargantuan person was. Was she 100% sure on that? That this guy was really her dad? They didn't look all that alike, save maybe for the teeth. She wasn't scared, per se, more in awe of the size of Edward - Audrey followed Syd's gaze and she soon chuckled. "Tall, isn't he? Don't worry," she leaned closer to whisper, "he's nowhere near as tough as he looks." - Syd merely blinked, as if she was observing something at a museum. "So you said you and Audrey's daddy are here?" Kat asked. "Yup," Roger gestured to Edward, "Kat, this is Mr. Davis. Edward, this is Kat." The little girl looked up, then fell kind of quiet. He was HUGE! She was only 4'3", this guy had to be 11 feet tall at least. Tightening her grip around her dad's hand ever so slightly, she gave Edward a slight nod and a bashful "Hi..." - Edward frowned as he looked between the two girls, believing them to be frightened of him. "It's always this," he sighed, "or begging to sit on my shoulders." - "I'm not scared, really..." Syd spoke slowly, "You're just really tall..." she smiled a bit, trying to convey that she was more amazed than frightened. - "I'm aware," he nodded. "How many retorts do you have to 'How's the weather up there' joke now?" Audrey smirked. "I'm not sure, honestly. Surprisingly, it's been a while since I've been asked that." - "...How IS the weather up there, anyway?" the ten-year-old asked. - "Partly cloudy with a one hundred percent chance of a joke I've already heard." - ...Alright, that was kind of funny...Kat and an equally nervous J.C. (in a more "This is the girl that I think I like's dad?! I know I'd have to watch out regardless, but holy moly..." sense, as opposed to Kat's "I'm but a small bean, pls no.") giggled. - Edward smiled and exhaled through his nose. "We should probably get inside before our lunch break is over." "Ohh, good point," Audrey perked up. "I have the day off, but you don't." - J.C. exhaled through his nose as well, "Guess it's a good thing that you guys were here. These two were close to ripping my arms off from...'hangriness'? I know that's not a word, but you get the idea." - "I suppose the portmanteau of 'hanger' wouldn't really work, lest someone think they wanted to hold clothes," Edward remarked as he held the door open. - J.C. chuckled. The man had jokes...always a good sign. Upon the door opening, Syd practically ran in (giving Edward a 'Thanks!!' as she passed by)- partially to find a seat and partially because FOOOOD. "Sydney, slow down, please." Roger spoke up, "Running isn't going to speed up the amount of time it'll take to get your food." - "Nope. That's up to us," Audrey chuckled as she speed-walked in. "Thanks, Dad!" - J.C. and Roger (and a Kat attached to Roger's leg), followed suit, giving Edward a "Thanks, mate" as they passed by. Even the somewhat nervous eight-year-old managed to squeak out a "Thank you, mister". Syd quietly groaned and threw her hands up- not so much in an aggressive way, more like an exasperated Muppet. "Okaaaaay." - "You're welcome," Edward said just before heading in himself. Rather than several tables, the restaurant had a few very long tables with chairs on either side. "Sooo..." Audrey started, "three on one side, three on the other?" - "Sounds fair." J.C. nodded, "Keeps Kat and Syd from fighting over who gets to sit where." - "Maybe we can go by family? Wait... that's four to two..." Audrey pondered. "Boys and girls?" Edward suggested. - "That works." Roger looked to his youngest, still clinging to him. "You going to be okay? Sitting over with your sister and Audrey?" Kat thought for a second before answering. "If Syd's not gonna be flingin' stuff at me, yeah." Syd scoffed, "Naaaah, too many grown-ups around. You're fiiiiine." - "I could sit in the middle," Audrey offered. "Any fights would have to go through me." - Kat smiled slightly, "That works." - As the group took their seats, Audrey slid off her light jacket to reveal her T-shirt and bare arms underneath. If they were wondering if she had strength to match her flexibility, there was their answer. - J.C.'s eyebrow's popped up as he got a look at Audrey's arms. Knowing that her father was right next to him, he had to resist the urge to whistle. - Audrey eyebrows scrunched together, feeling as though she was being watched. She looked up to see J.C. "...What?" - "Hm?" Ah, crud, he was noticed! Granted, he was looking at a "tame" part of her body, but still! "Ah! Sorry, sorry, I, um...I..." His face going a little pink, J.C. averted his gaze. "I just...caught a glimpse of..." he coughed, "You look...pretty strong." Totally nailed that recovery. - Given her T-shirt didn't really show any cleavage, she believed him. "Oh," she shrugged before flexing her arm. "Yeah. I work out." "She's a pretty one, huh?" Edward smiled at him, but it was threatening and with a piercing gaze; a look that said, 'Don't you dare.' - Feeling incredibly small as he was given the "Dad Glare" (as Syd called it. Roger had a similar one, but Edward's was about twice as intimidating), J.C. slunk a little in his seat, and replied with a "Y-yes, sir." "Betcha she could totally piledrive ya, J.C." Syd noted, as she watched Audrey flex. "..P...piledrive?" "Yeah! Like...SLAM! Right through a table!" Oh, she meant WRESTLING...oh thank god. J.C. chuckled nervously. "Um...p-probably, but...I don't know if she would. N-not that it implies that she's weak or anything! She can...I imagine she holds her own. I, er...I'm...going to shut up now. - Audrey seemed oblivious to her father's 'threat' as she laughed. "Maybe? You can calm down though. I wouldn't try anything like that. I may like to spar here and there, but I only fight fight as a last resort." - J.C. chuckled, trying to have it come of as NOT being nervous. "Haha...good to know." "Aw, we could've tag teamed..." Syd whined slightly. - "Maybe for a play fight. If I gave it my all, I imagine I could be pretty dangerous. I mean, I have won a few karate competitions," she couldn't help but gloat a little. Her strength was something she had utmost confidence in. "I can break boards... cinder blocks... found out I can crush melons with my thighs..." - Cue J.C. sputtering and choking on his own saliva. "...You alright, son?" Roger asked. " [cough] [cough]Yeah! Yeah, I'm [cough] f-fine!" - "Oh jeez! You choked on your own spit, didn't you? Hate when that happens..." "Why did you try crushing melons with your thighs?" Edward asked. Audrey chuckled and absently played with her hair, "Well, I saw a lady do it on YouTube and it made me curious." - " [cough! cough cough] Yeah..." "Sometimes you learn the best stuff off of there." Syd pointed out. - "It's pretty good for how-tos," she agreed. - The little redhead thought for a second."...Soooo if I wanted to learn how to make a glitter bomb..." "Don't get any ideas..." Roger started "I said 'if', not 'I'm going to make one..." - Audrey tittered. "You're such a scamp, Syd." - "The scampiest~" Syd smiled. "So you're saying you're a shrimp dish?" J.C. asked, obviously joking. - Audrey giggled at the joke. "Or a chicken dish, depending on your taste and if you're scared or not." - J.C., Syd and Roger snickered. The only one who wasn't all snicker-y was Kat. She wasn't exactly scared or upset, per se, but more....cautious, mainly because of Edward. - Audrey noticed Kat's lack of laughter. "You okay, Kat?" Edward looked over to the young blonde with a raised brow. He didn't mean to look intimidating in doing so... but he looked intimidating in doing so. - Temporarily snapping out of her little funk, the little girl looked to Audrey. "Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I'm...I'm fine." "You're not sick, are you?" Syd asked, "'Cos I don't want to get whatever it is you've got." The little sister shook her head "no". - Audrey frowned, able to tell she was lying. "If you're worried about not liking the coney dog, you could always just scrape the coney meat off it and just eat the hot dog." - "I think I'll be okay." Ah, good, a slight change in focus. Perhaps she could keep it going and ask her "standard" question when it came to trying new foods: "It doesn't have any green stuff on it, does it? In the meat stuff?" - "Naahhh. You're good. Not a vegetable in sight... Except for onion, but you can get it without." - Kat smiled slightly, "That's doable." - "Good~ Oh, looks like it's time to order," Audrey chirped as she looked over at their server. - "Oo!" Syd chirped, looking over the menu. "In that case, I'll haaaaaaave..." Roger, J.C., and Kat followed in terms of ordering; nothing spectacular- a coney dog and a drink. - Audrey and Edward did the same; though they both ordered two coneys. Edward was a big guy and Audrey needed the fuel for her active lifestyle. - "They do dessert here, right?" Syd asked, smiling expectantly. - "They do, actually," Audrey smiled. "It's sort of a custom to get rice pudding as dessert when having coney dogs." - Aaaaaand there went that smile. Here she was thinking they had ice cream. The idea of rice pudding was not sitting well with her, indicated by a slight "Ick!". "Ah, c'mon, kiddo. You're trying something new for food, you won't do the same for dessert?" J.C. asked. He thought for a second; maybe a little of the "monkey see, monkey do" logic he would use when she was younger would work... "...I'm probably going to have some afterwards, would you be against trying a bite or two? "...I mean, I guess I could have a bite. If you really can't finish your dessert without someone else having a bite of it." Syd answered, trying to play it cool. J.C. smirked slightly. - "You've never had rice pudding?" she cocked her head. "It's really good! Like, I know rice might have a weird texture to some, but this rice pudding is nice and creamy and sweet with cinnamon." "Besides," Edward started, "how will you ever find a new favorite food if you don't try new food?" - Syd raised an eyebrow. "Cinnamon? Ooo, now I'm warming up to the idea~ That's one of my favourite flavours...other than bubble gum, cherry, lemon, and cotton candy." Kat's "stiffness", as it were, started to loosen up after she heard Edward. That sounded like something that her dad said a lot... - "Good~" Audrey and Edward spoke simultaneously. "I almost feel bad getting rice pudding without Mom," Audrey chuckled. "Speaking of, have you talked to her today?" "You should know the answer to that," Edward chuckled. "I called her this morning, just as I always do when we're not in the same house." "I'll catch you forgetting one of these days," she joked. - J.C. chuckled quietly, thinking the whole scenario was pretty cute. - "My mom is hanging out with her sisters today. That's why she's not here," Audrey informed. - "Speaking of, did yooooou call Mum today???" Syd asked, interrogating her father. Roger chuckled, "I had sent her a text earlier; making sure she got to where she was going alright." "You've gotta call her, though!" the ten year old lightly scolded, "It's more important to talk and hear each other's voices!" "I haven't had a chance to, sweetheart. I'll do it when I get back to the office, alright?" Syd gave her father a suspicious look, but backed down with an "...Okaaaaaay....if you say so..." - Edward couldn't help but snicker at this. "This isn't the competition of the dads, Syd," Audrey chuckled. - Ah, and he laughed too! Kat smiled a bit at his reaction. "Mmm, you're right, that's on Father's Day..." the child mused. - Audrey snorted at this. "No-ho it's not!" - "So then why do they have all those 'World's Greatest Dad' mugs?! You don't just get that title wily-nily!" - Audrey shook as she tried not to laugh.

"I don't know," she squeaked. - "They have the 'Dad Games' in Scotland, right?" J.C. asked, snickering and going along with Syd's misconception. "They sometimes coincide with Highland Games, so they combine the two?"

"Sometimes, I guess." Syd confirmed, "But they replace something like caber tossing with ball tossing, if I remember correctly..."

Roger couldn't help but snicker as well. - Audrey was a bit lost. She was certain he was joking, but she was unsure as to what was a joke and what wasn't. If they had wife carrying in Finland, Dad Games in Scotland wasn't that far fetched.

May as well play along so they don't think she's stupid.

"Do they have wife carrying like they do in Finland?" - "...They have that in Finland?" the child asked. - "If I remember right. I saw it on a show about strange competitions from around the world."

Yes, she purposely left out the show was called World's Dumbest. - "Oooooooh...."

"Soooo, do they?" J.C. asked Syd, seeing how long she could keep this up. "Have wife carrying competitions at the Dad Games?"

"I'm...not too sure. I think that's one of the new events being added this year. That, and...you know the relay race where you have to carry an egg with a spoon? There's s'posed to be something similar, except it's with a baby and you've got to carry them to their crib as quickly as you can without waking them up." - Audrey had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

Edward was pretty good at keeping a straight face, so he decided to weigh in while Audrey couldn't.

"I certainly hope they don't carry them using spoons. Dropping a baby is a lot worse than dropping an egg." - "Oh, no, no- they carry them like you normally carry a baby."

J.C. snickered, "You sure they don't just use really big spoons?"

"No, 'cos that's just dumb…" - "Pffckp!" Audrey clamped her hand over her mouth again. - Syd was confused; why was all of this so funny? They'd asked their question, and they were getting an answer. Adults were weird… - Audrey managed to stifle her laughter once more and her father remained straight faced, as usual.

"I'm guessing you four flew here," Edward piped up to break the silence. - " 'Course we did." Syd answered, "It's not like we can just jog across the ocean." - "Your arms must be really tired then," he smirked.

Audrey slapped a hand to her face.

-

J.C. mimicked Audrey, while Syd groaned. Total dad joke- she should've seen that coming!

Kat, on the other hand, giggled a little. Perhaps that apprehension of hers was starting to diminish.

-

Edward laughed at their reactions.

"Did you tell these dad jokes before I was born?" Audrey asked.

"No. They come in the handbook you get when you become a dad."

-

"I believe 'Dad Jokes' is Chapter 5." Roger added.

"...There's not a handbook, c'mooon..." Syd scoffed.

-

"Do you think we just learn as we go? That'd be ridiculous."

-

"Do mums get one, too?" Kat asked.

-

"Theirs is less of a handbook and more of a full encyclopedia."

-

"How come it's bigger than just a handbook?" the little girl asked. Now she was curious...

-

"Because their book has all the hard stuff in it. The dad book mostly has jokes and funny faces to practice."

-

Syd looked to J.C., "He's not serious, is he?"

"Oh, he is." the older brother confirmed, smirking. "When Mum was pregnant with you, they consulted their manuals. They did the same with Kat- you were too young to remember them doing it, though."

The ten-year-old raised an eyebrow, not buying it. "So what about with you, then? Did they consult this 'manual' too? "

"There's a section in the mum encyclopedia all about adoption- Chapters 15 and 16, if I remember correctly."

-

"...Adoption?" Edward blinked, surprised.

-

J.C. looked over to Edward, chuckling a bit sheepishly. "Yes, I, um...I was adopted by your, ah...work mate here," he gestured to Roger,  "at around 2 years old. Long story. ...Well, not really a long story, but..."

-

"Ah. Well, I won't pry. Didn't intend to put you on the spot there. Sorry."

-

J.C. gave him a small smile, "It's no big deal. You ever want to know, I'm open for questions."

-

"I'm not really sure if I'll ever see you again, so I may as well ask," he shrugged.

"Weeelllllll," Audrey started.

-

J.C.'s eyes darted over to Audrey, before looking back to Edward. "Ummm...."

-

Edward raised a brow, awaiting an explanation.

"I went ahead and got J.C.'s e-mail address so I could send him pictures of Lola and Daisy to show to Syd and Kat," Audrey said with a smile. "Don't know if we'll talk much outside of that, but I figured that counted as keeping contact," she shrugged. - "P-pretty much, yeah." J.C. confirmed, "What with being abroad and all. Can't really come rushing over every time the sibs want to see Lola, y'know?"

-

"Oh. Makes sense," Edward nodded, not too on edge yet. Seemed innocent enough.

-

"I mean, teeeeechnically we could..." Syd suggested.

Roger laughed, "Oh really? How do you plan on raising money to do so, eh?"

Syd stayed silent for a moment before giving an answer. "...I'll figure something out."

-

Audrey snickered.

"I couldn't afford that and I have a job." - "...Theeeeen I'll find a way that makes a lot of money."

-

"Will you let me in on it?" Audrey asked.

-

Syd steepled her fingers and leaned back slightly. "Perhaps. Once I find it, of course."

-

"... Please do so legally."

-

Syd made a facial expression, silently conveying something along the lines of "Dang it...".

"Eh, I can start with a lemonade stand, I guess..."

-

"I think you need a permit for that now, or something, unfortunately," Audrey frowned. "So dumb."

-

"A piece of paper that says 'I can do whatever I want' and has your signature on it doesn't count, either." J.C. added.

"Dang it!"

-

Edward inhaled, about to speak, but Audrey cut him off.

"If you go into an in-depth explanation as to why, I can't guarantee we'll all stay awake."

-

J.C. had to hold back a snicker.

-

"...Sometimes I wonder if we're related. Then I look at your mother," he proceeded to look left and right. "But she's not here right now, so I don't know."

Audrey snickered.

-

"That's what we say about Syd sometimes," Kat piped up, "And we look to Mum, too. Similar personalities."

Syd scoffed, "I'm waaaaay more tame than Mum was when she was my age. Or so I've been told."

-

"Audrey's pretty much a dead ringer for her mother at that age... but with more muscle."

"And less hair," Audrey added. - Roger chuckled, "Charlotte had pigtails at...well, at least at Kat's age.  I think she had them when she was as old as Syd, as well."

"Only real differences are that she's blonde, and that I've never accidently set a building on fire." Syd added. She paused, thinking how off that statement sounded. "It's....not as bad as it sounds. She tells the story better than I do."

-

Edward's eyebrows shot up at this, as did Audrey's.

Before they could question farther, however, their food arrive.

"Oo, yay~ You guys get to have your first Coney!" Audrey exclaimed.

-

Syd and Kat stared at the size of the food, trying to figure out how exactly they were going to get it in their mouths. That was one big hot dog...

"So do we just like....go for it?" The redhead asked, "Aim for the mouth and hope for the best?"

-

Audrey snorted. "Basically."

She and Edward both picked up their own coneys and took a bite. How did they do it? Very carefully.

-

J.C and Roger followed suit while the sisters observed and tried to mimic what they were doing. Kat ended up getting mostly meat sauce on her first go, but it still managed to garner a smile from the girl.

Syd's expression was a little more telling. It was a bit more extreme, as if she had just tasted the best thing in the world. She said nothing, as meat sauce started to drip down her face.

-

Audrey snickered at Syd and took another bite. "Good, right?"

-

The child slowly nodded.

"Don't go all 'wild animal' on us now." J.C. spoke up, wiping a bit of sauce from his own face. "If there wasn't as much in the way of sauce and whatnot on there, I'd say go for it, but I don't think everyone else around us would appreciate getting covered in food.

Syd merely responded with a dazed "Uh-huuuuuh" and went back to chowing down.

-

Audrey giggled. "Agreed. Though there are worse things to be covered in than coney dog."

-

"Like ink from a pen that exploded on you, I suppose." Roger piped up.

"Or mud." Kat added.

"Aw, c'mon, being covered in mud's kinda fun!" Syd, briefly snapping out of her coney daze, spoke up. "Besides, people use it for, like,  beautifying themselves sometimes. Like on spa days, not just after a rainstorm."

"They do noooot..." the small blonde scoffed.

-

"Well, yes and no," Audrey clarified. "Mud masks are a thing, but it's not just plain old mud from the ground.  It's like, a special kind of mud mixed with special oils and stuff."

-

"What about mud baths, then?" Syd asked.

-

"I think it's the same basic idea."

-

"Mmm. So there goes another money-making idea, then." The redhead took a bite of her dog, "I was gonna dig a hole, fill it with mud, and use that as a space for people to take a mud bath in. Find some oils and put those in as well..."

-

"If only it was that simple..."

-

"I don't think you should be worrying too much about money." J.C. noted, "Childhood's meant more for worrying about...heck, I don't know, finding out what happens in the next episode of your favorite cartoon. Or whatever sort of drama will unfold between your dolls the next time you play pretend with them."

Syd scoffed, "But you need money to buy and do things, ya dingbat."

"Thaaaat's...where saving up your allowance comes in." he shrugged.

"Or having someone pay for something for you." the younger sister gave him a cheeky smile, "And give them an IOU, of course."

-

Audrey snickered.

"Yeah. That's what childhood should be, even if it isn't always like that. People always act as though childhood has no downsides. It can be stressful, I know. But it certainly has its perks."

-

"I mean, adulthood kinda has its perks too...you get to drive, stay up late, and even do biscuits for breakfast if you're so inclined." Syd mused, "Buuuuuuuuut you do have a point... I think."

-

"Adults have to pay taxes," Edward replied dryly, causing Audrey to snicker.

-

"...So do kids." the redhead responded, "You've never heard of the 'sibling tax'? Or the 'Halloween candy' tax?"

-

Audrey looked confused. "...I'm an only child and so is my dad, so, no."

-

"The 'Halloween candy' one isn't even really a tax," J.C. spoke up, "she gives up the candy that she doesn't like and gives it to me , Dad, and Mum"

"But I was still the one who went out and got it, so it's still kind of a tax." Syd argued.

"The sibling one is when your brother or sister gets you a snack or somethin' when they go out to a convenience store, and they take a small bit." Kat added. "Like a few Smarties out of a pack, or a sip of a slushie."

-

"Ohhhh," Audrey nodded. "That makes sense."

-

"Plus side is is that it rarely rises." the little blonde continued, "For example, Syd usually takes five of my Smarties; no more, no less. Even though there's a lot that comes in a tube."

"Well, that's 'cos they're /yours/ so obviously, you get the most." Syd shrugged, "Basic economics."

-

"She has a point," she shrugged.

-

Syd smirked. See? Audrey got it.

"Since when has this been a thing?" Roger asked, "I don't remember ever doing that with my siblings."

"It's fairly recent." Kat answered, " 'Sides, I guess it's kind of a good thing, what with you bein' the youngest out of yours an' all. Your siblings and mine are different in terms of personality."

"Oh jeez, can you imagine Mum?" Syd chuckled, "She'd have 5 other people that could tax 'er!"

-

"I thought they could only tax you if they helped get you something? Otherwise, I think it's just called sharing."

-

"Either way." Syd shrugged, "Bein' an only child has its perks, I imagine."

Kat looked over to her sister, appearing offended and assuming that that's what Syd preferred.  The redhead looked to her sister and gave her a playful nudge, one that nonverbally said something like "Hey, you're alright; I tolerate ya".

"It does get kinda lonely, though." J.C. piped up, "I was one for thirteen years."

-

"I've always been an only child. I did have my cousins to keep me company though. Them and the kids we'd babysit," Audrey remarked.

"I was more focused on my studies than socializing," Edward admitted.

-

"I tried to be," Roger admitted, "But that can be a bit difficult when you're needed either as goalie for your older brother's football game or brought to tea with Mumsy and other school officials."

Syd had to hold back a laugh. Ha! "Mumsy". Who called their mother that, nowadays!? That sounded so old-fashioned.

-

"You shouldn't be envious," Edward commented a bit quietly.

-

Roger raised an eyebrow, "I mean, I'm not exactly complaining. Could've settled for not having a football to the face and a black eye or some other bruise with most games, but..."

-

The only response he got was a light grunt. "Mm."

"Sooo," Audrey started, hoping to change the subject, "you want to order some rice pudding?"

-

Ooof, sounds like he was hitting a rough subject. Best not to push it. Thank goodness for Audrey and the rice pudding suggestion. "Uuuum, sure! Yes, let's, ah...let's try some of that!"

-

Audrey smiled and nodded, motioning for their server.

-

Syd looked to Edward, "Iiiif it's any consolation, she's a real 'witch with a capital B' now. I really don't like 'er." Not sure if that helped, but...

Kat, noticing the change in the other father's attitude, became quiet again.

-

Edward looked thoroughly confused. "Who?"

-

"Dad's mum. 'Mumsy', as 'e calls her." Syd clarified. "She's usually nice to him, but she's mean to a lot of other people."

-

"Oh. Not sure why that would be consolation, but, alright," he shrugged.

-

Syd shrugged as well.

Kat, meanwhile, continued cautiously watching.

-

After a moment of silence, Edward felt eyes on him and looked over to Kat.

Was she scared of him still?

Can't have that.

He briefly stuck his tongue out and pulled it back in, looking not unlike a snake.

-

Wait a sec.

Kind of scary guy?

Making silly faces?

That was pretty ridiculous. Silly, even.

The little blonde smiled slightly, giggling a bit at the display.

-

"Hm?" Audrey looked over to Kat, then to her father, who looked as serious as ever.

-

"What's so funny, shorty?" Syd asked.

"Noooothin'." the younger sibling responded, trying to control her giggles.

-

Edward suppressed a smirk. Once the attention was off him again, he crossed his eyes.

-

Cue a slightly bigger smile and more giggles.

-

That's better~, Edward thought to himself, believing that to be enough to calm her down.

The server soon came with their rice pudding.

Knowing the kids were a little unsure of the new dessert, Audrey took the first bite, making sure to look quite pleased with the flavor.

-

Like a group of little scientists, Syd and Kat watched closely to make sure that nothing adverse happened. Looked as if Audrey liked it...soooo if she wasn't immediately spitting it back out, then it had to be good, right?

Only one way to find out...

After a bit of deliberation between the two, Syd was the first to try the new dessert. Her expression had a couple of flashes of confusion (because of the texture), but was still overwhelmingly positive, indicated by the "Mmm!" she emitted.

-

Audrey did her best not to laugh at their cautiousness. She smiled as she continued eating. "Told ya."

-

Kat looked to Syd for confirmation.

"Ish guuuuuuuuh, Kad" she responded, mouth full of pudding.

Slowly, Kat took a small bit of pudding and placed it in her mouth. Her reactions were a bit similar to her sister's but they seemed to be pretty positive as well.

-

Audrey giggled. "So, what do you two think?" she asked J.C. and Roger.

-

Roger nodded, "It's different, but I must say, it does have a delightful taste."

J.C., meanwhile, was about halfway done with his. Must've been that good.

-

Audrey snorted when she looked over at J.C. before covering her mouth and nose.

-

J.C. looked up, a bit of pudding on his nose, wondering what Audrey was laughing at.

Roger couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Uuuum, son? You've got a bit of..."

J.C. looked down at the little blob on his nose, chuckled awkwardly, and used a napkin to get it off.

-

"You sure you want to be so blunt about it? I mean, you were a little... on the nose," she snickered, as did her father.

-

"I guess you could say that all that stuff on your face made you look a little...off-pudding." Roger added. Cue an "Oh god, dad jokes" sort of groan from Kat and Syd.

-

"How dair-y say that?" Edward jumped in.

-

J.C. couldn't help but laugh; he always appreciated a good dad joke.

-

Audrey tittered as she took another bite. "I'm out. Anyone have any puns left?"

-

"Aw, already? I thought those were some pretty rice puns we had going." Kat piped up.

-

Audrey snickered. "You sure like to go with the grain, don't you?"

-

"I'm surrounded by nerds..." Syd said, shaking her head.

"That's pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" J.C. asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"...You've still got a bit of pudding on your face, y'know." she said, smirking back. "Might want to get another napkin and dab it off."

-

"Dab it off?" Audrey proceeded to do the 'dab' movement with one arm out and her face in the crook of her other arm.

"I don't see how this will help."

-

At that moment, Syd and Kat immediately lost it, collapsing into a fit of laughter (and some pudding dribbling down their chins). J.C. snickered at their reaction.

Roger, however...was confused.

-

Edward felt the same.

Audrey chuckled, looking at J.C. "Should we tell them?"

-

"One of these days, maybe." J.C. snickered.

-

"If only we were still kids. We could use this as leverage."

-

"Truuuuue."

-

"Oh well. Maybe Syd and Kat can."

-

"...Once they stop laughing, of course."

"Why are they laughing, anyway?" Roger asked.

"Sorry, Dad, it's top secret. Those of a certain age are only privy to it." Syd answered, still trying to calm down.

-

"Ya hear that, Dad? No old people allowed."

"I have baby pictures in my wallet," Edward retorted.

"I'll shut up now."

-

"Oooohoo, the baby picture threat. Things are getting serious." J.C. snickered.

"I have yours, too, you know." Roger added, looking to his son and raising an eyebrow.

J.C. slunk down slightly.

-

"And I used to think you were cool," Audrey jokingly told her dad.

-

"He's kinda funny, I'll give him that..." Kat said, giggling.

-

"Only kinda?" he grinned, his large front teeth quite visible.

-

Kat laughed, "Okay, maybe more than kinda...."

-

"You should see him do the bunny face," Audrey smirked.

"I still have your baby pictures," he narrowed his eyes.

-

Kat gasped. "Bunnies?? I like bunnies!"

-

Edward glared at Audrey, knowing he had to do it now.

He let out a sigh before looking around to see who all could see him do this.

Upon deeming the coast clear, he wiggled his nose, then chattered his teeth.

-

Kat giggled, clapped her hands, and bounced up and down happily.

-

Audrey snickered and her father smiled slightly, still embarrassed, but pleased with the blonde's reaction.

-

"How come YOU can't do a bunny face?" Kat asked her father.

"I can do those really funny voices when you want a bedtime story," Roger offered, feigning hurt "Does that not count for anything?"

"It does, it does!" Kat reassured.

-

"Because not everyone can be graced with my freakish rabbit teeth," Edward commented.

"Dad," Audrey started sternly, "don't make me call mom to ramble about how cute your teeth are."

[mymixofmuses]

Lola Leads

(A roleplay between my Audrey muse and @red-rad-and-rod . It doesn’t have a real ending, but, here we gooooo.)

- It was finally starting to look and feel like springtime in Michigan. The seemingly sporadic weather seemed to have finally settled on a warmer temperature. There were no more snowfalls coming out of nowhere and the plants were becoming more lively by the day. The grass was green and dusted with flecks of other colors as the flowers began to bloom. A certain freckled redhead by the name of Audrey had been looking forward to this day, more so for her furry friend than herself. Lola, a scruffy-looking mixed breed about the size of a beagle, had been Audrey’s Christmas gift to herself. As such, she had never seen the local park, with the weather as cold as it was. Now, however, the young dog trotted happily next to her owner, or rather, a little ahead. She was quite the excitable one and still had trouble walking calmly with her master. It didn’t help matters that she was finally getting to see a new setting and was eager to see and smell everything in the immediate vicinity. Though it took an uncountable number of pit stops, the two made it to the park. The young woman found a bench and sat down, reaching into her bag to get out a bottle of water and a doggy dish. After pouring her pet a drink and taking a sip for herself, she pet her dog’s floppy ears. “That was a long walk, huh, girl?” The dog didn’t respond, but simply lapped up the water vigorously. “Yeah. Can’t blame ya for being thirsty,” the redhead giggled. Lola stopped to look up at Audrey, wagging her tail for a moment, before looking into the distance. Before she had a chance to respond, the dog had shot off in a blur of brown and white, taking her leash with her. “Ack! Lola! Come here, girl!”

- “I’m bored” J.C. looked over from his spot, a bench fairly close to one of the two play structures, and scoffed gently. Both Mum and Dad had work today, so lo and behold, he was tasked with watching his little sisters. No big deal, really; might as well do his standard thing and take them to the park to tire them out. Usually made for a fairly easy time afterwards. Seemed like that wasn’t the case today, at least with one of them. “Syd, we’ve only been here for about half an hour, how can you be bored already?” Syd, currently laying on the grass near him, blew a bit of hair out of her face as a response. “You haven’t even done all that much; save for surveying the play structure, checking out the swings, and nearly getting sick on the little roundabout. You tired or something? Still a bit dizzy from spinning around super fast.” “No.” J.C. shrugged, letting out a sigh. “Theeeen I don’t know what to tell ya, kid. You can hang with me and have a boring time ooooor you can go play.” He looked up to catch a glimpse at the younger of the sisters, Kat, looking like she was having a blast on the swings. “What about the swings?” “Kat’s on them, and she’s talkin’ with another kid. Knowing them, they’re gonna be on there for hours. An’ there’s a line for the rest of the swings…I could just go over, push some of the other kids outta the way, and jump the queue…” Syd looked to her brother, a sort of defeated look on her face, “but if I do, then you’ll make me sit on one of the benches and ‘think about what I did’ and 'how wrong it is’.” “Preeeeetty much, kiddo. Laws of the playground, can’t exactly break 'em.” Syd had a small chuckle at the comment, before starting to focus on something. “Y'see that?” J.C. looked in the same direction. “What?” “There’s something coming in our direction….kinda small…really fast….” Suddenly, the ten-year-old let out an excited gasp. Kind of small and really fast? That usually meant… “PUPPYYYYYYYY!!!” - Despite the clear excitement of the child, Lola opted to focus her attention on the young man. She bounded over to the bench and promptly placed her front paws on his knees as she 'danced’ excitedly for attention, tail wagging a mile a minute. The dog was scruffy-looking, but clearly not a stray. Aside from the collar and leash dangling from her neck, she was clearly cared for with a healthy weight and a shiny clean coat. What’s more, she looked too cute for someone not to take her in. Her markings, shades of brown with a white face and underbelly, were beautiful, while her pale blue eyes practically sparkled, and her cute little pink nose was too much to resist! Audrey followed a short distance behind, putting those athletic legs of hers to work. The redhead dashed past the swing set, quickly addressing the girl Kat was talking to. “Hi, Jenna! Bye, Jenna!” With that out of the way, she continued to call for her dog. “Looooolaaaaa!” - Kat, a little confused, looked to Jenna. “You know 'er?” Jenna laughed, “Know her? I can tell you all about her….” (….) At the sound of Syd shouting, J.C. jumped a little. Jeez, she could be loud sometimes…what was that all abo…ooooh, a puppy. Of course. From what he could tell, they had a leash, tags, and they weren’t some hulking looking thing (even if it was, Syd’d still go nuts. Something as big as a Newfie, she’d risk getting bowled over, regardless). Eh, as long as he kept an eye on the two of them, it shouldn’t be an issu- wait, why was the dog coming towards him? Ignoring the small “Heeeey!” from Syd, J.C. looked down and gave the little dog a smile. “Heeeey there, little bit.” he chuckled, “Who’d you get away from, eh?” Hearing the sound of “Looooooolaaaaaaa!”, Syd pointed it the direction of where it was coming from. “Prooooobably the person shouting 'er name?” “Ah, good call.” J.C. shouted back, “Over 'ere!” - The canine rested her head on his knee for a moment before she perked up at the sound of her owner growing closer. While she was happy to see her, the dog didn’t approach, merely faced her with a wagging tail. “Lolaaaa,” Audrey, started with a lecturing tone, “you can’t run off like that. You could get hurt.” Lola lowered her head in apology as her owner took the leash once more. “I’m sorry about her. She’s still a bit of a puppy.” Lola looked up at the two of them talking, tail wagging. - J.C. chuckled, giving Lola a little pat on the head, “Mischevious little thing, aren’t ya? Worrying your Mummy like that…” He looked to Audrey. “Cute little dog you’ve got there. Lola, was it? That’s her name?” - Audrey giggled. “Thank you. Yes, this is Lola,” she gestured, 'introducing’ them. She may have left things at that, but the accent got her curious. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you’re not from around here. Like, not even somewhat close to around here.” - “Nnnnnnope!” piped up Syd, moving next to her brother. “We’re from WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY across the Atlantic. ….Or…whatever degree of "way” Bristol is.“ - Audrey jolted slightly, not having noticed the child in the scramble for her dog. Placing a hand to her chest, she let out a wheezy laugh. "I’d say that’s pretty far. Also, diggin’ the hair. What are you two doing all the way over here?” - “Work.” J.C. answered, “Dad works for one of those international companies, and often times, we end up coming with. Kind of like a mini-holiday, I guess you could call it.” “Aaaaand 'cos he and Mum each had something they needed to take care of, we got to go to the park with this guy right here!” Syd added. - Lola looked at the child, tail wagging as she looked at her expectantly. “Ahh. That makes sense.” She paused, raising a brow. “We?” - Syd giggled at Lola, “Silly puppy…” “Yup,” J.C. tossuled Syd’s hair a little bit, “This one right here is Syd, aaaand my other little sister should be on the swings…” he looked towards the swing and could see a blur of blonde, pink, and purple. Yep, that was her. Cool, she hadn’t moved…save for the back and forth motion of the swing, but…“Yup, Kat’s on the swings.” “I’m 10 aaaand Kat’s 8.” Syd added. - “You can pet her, if you want,” she smiled at Syd. “She’s a friendly dog, albeit rowdy at times.” Audrey turned to look towards the swing. “Ahhh. I knew there was a reason I didn’t recognize her,” she turned back to J.C. “I have a good reputation as a babysitter, so I’ve gotten to know a lot of the kids around here. For example,” she pointed back towards the swings with her thumb. “That’s Jenna talking to your sister. She has a baby brother on the way.” - Syd’s eyes lit up like it was Chrtistmas morning. Giving Audrey a quiet “Thank yoooou”, she went about gently petting Lola, all the while quietly going “Puuuuuppy, puppy, puppy, puppy, puppyyyyyyyyyy…..” J.C. snickered at his sister before turning to Audrey. “Aaah. Baby brother on the way, eh? That oughta be fun.” - Lola rolled onto her back, exposing her underbelly as her tongue lulled out. “Yeah. I don’t have any siblings myself, but I do have five younger cousins who were over at our house pretty often. Actually, that’s the reason I don’t have any siblings,” she snickered. “Enough kids in the house as it was.” - J.C. laughed, “Kind of sounds like our place, at least around the holidays. Syd and Kat can be a handful, but add…I don’t know, at least five to ten other kids to the mix- anywhere from two years old to well into their teenage years- and it’s…something, alright.” “Exhausting?” Syd asked, “Is that 'cos we’ll drag you outside to play?” “…To be honest, I’d rather be out with you guys than having to deal with relatives asking a number of questions.” he snickered. - “Good golly, Miss Molly! That’s a lot of kids! I sure hope the other adults help out, at least a little bit. I mean; I love kids, but even I need a break here and there.” She chuckled. “It still is sweet of you to play with them, regardless of the awkward questions with the older relatives. Let me guess… 'How’s school? Work? Are you seeing anyone? Thinking about marriage? Kids? What’s in your future?’ ”

- J.C. chuckled, nodding. “Preeeeeetty much. At least with kids, they ask you things like what your favorite dinosaur is.” “It’s a brachiosaurus.” Syd loudly whispered. “It most certainly is. There’s usually a 'tag out’ system in place, so I do get to have some 'grown up’ time…speaking of questions, I….don’t think we’ve actually officially introduced ourselves. I’m J.C., and you are?” - Audrey giggled at the dinosaur comment. “Oh, how rude of me,” she held a hand to her chest before holding it out to shake. “I’m Audrey, born and raised Michigan citizen,” she smiled widely, revealing her large front teeth. “Is this your first time here? I could recommend some good spots to visit.” - “Charmed,” J.C. responded, smiling as he shook her hand. “It is…we actually came across this place by accident, so…any help or tips are greatly appreciated.” - Taking her hand back, she held two fingers to her head and mock saluted. “Can do! Now, let me just think a moment here…” She put her chin in her hand as she thought. “Well, when it comes to free entertainment, you’ve already found one of our parks. As for spending a little cash, you can’t come to Michigan and not try a Coney Dog. It’s a shame you didn’t come in the summer, since that’s when you can get the best Coneys from Timmy’s Coneys. Old Timmy only sets up shop in summer, but there are restaurants you can get them from year round.” - “Aaaah, drat. I’ll have to make a note of that…if it’s open only during one time of the year, they must be pretty good.” “What’s a coney dog?” Syd asked, “'Cos all I’m picturing is, like…you put it in an ice cream cone and put regular hot dog stuff on it.” - “An ice cream cone? What makes you think- Ohhhhh, coney dog. Nahh. It’s short for Coney Island Hot Dog. Basically, they take this specific kind of hot dog and top it with this meat sauce; not chili. It’s something else. Anyway, it’s usually topped with a heaping helping of onions and mustard. You can get them plain too though. Some people like theirs with cheese.” - “Ooooooooooooh.” Syd blinked, “I don’t know, I kind of like my idea more.” J.C. scoffed lightly and shook his head. Kids could be such weirdos sometimes. “Well, even if we can’t get them specifically from Timmy’s Coneys , is that something that you’d be willing to eat after we’re done here?” Syd nodded enthusiastically. “I think Kat would, too, 'cos it doesn’t have green stuff on it. At least, from the sounds of it.” “You want to go and ask her?” Syd gave the two a salute and ran off, yelling “PLAY NICE, YOU TWO!” to the pair. J.C. laughed, “We weren’t…! Aaaaaand she’s gone. Dang, she’s fast.” - Lola watched as Syd ran off. There goes the person giving her attention… Oh well. She rolled back over onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Audrey laughed as well, taking a seat next to J.C. on the bench. “Your sister seems like a hoot and a half! I’m guessing she keeps you on your toes, huh?” - “Tiptoes is more like it.” he responded, smirking a bit. “She’s a character, I will give her that.” - She chuckled. “I’ve known kids like that; like real life versions of Calvin from Calvin & Hobbes… You ever read that comic?” - “Oh, yeeeah! I read those all the time when I was a bit younger. Still do, occasionally. …Although, I read them in French first, then went to English once my grasp on the language improved a bit…” - Audrey cocked her head to the side. Didn’t his sister say they lived in Bristol? “French?” - “….Ah, right, right…” He cleared his throat a little, “See, I’m….not originally from England. Syd and Kat’s mum and dad are my adoptive mum and dad. Been so since I was around 2 years old. I’m originally from France.” - She slowly raised her head and lowered it as she let out a drawn out, “Ohhhhhhh.” Rather than pry for details, she simply smiled and said, “I’m glad you were able to get adopted at a young age. Adapt to your new family faster and all that. I’ve thought about adopting myself, but I think it’s a little early to think about that sort of thing. I don’t even have a boyfriend right now,” she laughed. - He gave her a smile back, as a silent way of saying thanks. “I’m thinking of doing the same, honestly. I mean, I’m happy either way- adoption or otherwise., but…kind of in the same boat; just out of school, no girlfriend…all that fun stuff.” - “Not often I see a man who openly admits to wanting kids,” she giggled, nudging him with her elbow. “Shame you live across the ocean,” she joked with a wink. - J.C. chuckled, a little bit of a awkward/nervous edge to it. “Haha, yeah. It kind of be nice to have a couple of my own…I mean, there’s Syd and Kat, but they’re my sisters. Having a kid be your own’s a little different.” - “Ah, I’m just messing with you,” Audrey smiled, hoping he didn’t think she was actually hitting on him. “I would imagine so. Speaking of, I wonder what those two are talking about. With how fast Syd sprinted off, you’d think she’d be back by now.” - “That’s a good question…I don’t hear any sort of screaming or yelling, so they’re not fighting…” He snickered, “Maybe she got distracted and now they’re both on the swings?” - Audrey shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t mind though. I’m totally free today, so I don’t mind waiting… Though I suppose those two don’t have to be here for the directions. Would you rather I just tell you where to go and get out of your hair?” - “If you want; you’re welcome to hang around if you don’t have anywhere to be today. Besides, I think the minute Syd mentions the word 'puppy’ to Kat, she’ll come running over.” - Audrey snickered. “I think I’ll stay. Lola loves attention, I love kids, and you seem pretty nice~” - J.C. couldn’t help but blush a little. “I, um….I try, heh…” All of a sudden, a more high-pitched “PUPPYYYYYYYYYY!!” came from the playground. Aaaaah, there it was…a “Kat, wait up!!” followed shortly. “Speaking of kids, sounds like Syd mentioned the 'P’ word….” - “Sounds like it,” she agreed, making sure she had a firm hold on Lola’s leash. Lola had perked up at the sound of the shout and was now wagging her tail eagerly, whining impatiently for what she was sure would be more attention. - Pretty soon, a little blonde girl dressed in pink and purple had joined the pair. She looked to the redhead, smiling. “Sooooo, you’re Audrey, right? Jenna’s been tellin’ me about you.” Shortly after Kat had arrived, Syd turned up, out of breath. “Easy, kiddo. Take a sec and rest.” he told the smaller redhead. Syd did just that, walking over to the other open space on the bnch and plopping down with an “Oof!” “An’ Syd says you’ve got a puppy. Can I pet her, please?” - “Mm-hm,” Audrey smiled warmly at the blonde. “And you’re Kat?” Lola was currently on her hind legs, trying to pull away to reach Kat, whining all the while. “I don’t think I have a choice here,” she laughed, gesturing for Kat to come over. - “Yep!” She nodded, skipping a little closer. “Hiiiiiii, puppyyyyy~!” “The name’s Lola.” Syd piped up. “Hiiii, Lolaaaaa~!” - Lola wagged her tail as she excitedly sniffed at the newcomer. Deciding she liked the child, the dog gave her a few licks. “She’s a friendly one, isn’t she? I like your outfit, by the way. Pink and purple are my favorite colors~” - “Uh-huuuuuh.” Kat giggled, as Lola showed her affection. “Mine too!” - “Neat!” While Audrey was curious as to what Jenna said about her, she decided keeping the focus on the dog would make more sense. “I got her from the local shelter. The people working there said she’s a mixed breed, but weren’t sure what all is in her. They think she might have a bit of Border Collie in her though.” - “Oooo, Border Collie, eh?” Kat looked to J.C., “That’s not one of those super big dogs, right?” J.C. smirked, “Yeeees, and I know what you’re asking. You know my answer already.” “Dang it.” - “I’m guessing you’ve been wanting a dog? I know the feeling,” she smiled sympathetically. “Lola here is my first dog and I’ve just recently turned twenty four years old! My family’s house could get so chaotic at times that a dog just seemed like it would be too much, despite my asking. Figures my parents would adopt their own dog not long after I went to college.” She shrugged. “Oh well. At least the two get along.” - Both kids looked at Audrey. Twenty-four? “…No way, you look way too young.” Syd spoke up. J.C. couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Syd, twenty four’s not old. Nowhere near it.” “You only say that 'cos you’re twenty three.” Kat added. “Twenty four in August, though. Point is, early to mid twenties is not old.” - Audrey giggled, taking 'look way too young’ as a compliment. “I sure hope not! I want to be married with kids before I’m old!” - “Human years don’t work like dog years, you two.” J.C. chuckled. “If that were the case, Syd would be anywhere from 56 to 78 years old.” Kat snickered. J.C. looked to the little girl, “And you’d be somewhere from 48 to 64 years old, depending on breed.” Syd tilted her head, looking at her sister. “Soooooo, what kinda dog d'you think she’d be? One o’ those yappy little chihuahuas?” Kat gave her sister a cheeky smile, “You’re probably one of those big, bumbling ones that slobbers a lot.” J.C. sighed quietly, seeing where this conversation was going. “Okay, you two, tone it down a bit.” - Audrey chuckled. She knew where this was going… and just how to stop it. “My parents have one of those; a little chihuahua, I mean. I should have a video of her playing with Lola on my phone, if you two can get along long enough to watch it.” - Ah, Audrey was pulling out the big guns…puppy videos! Dang it, she knew one of their weaknesses! Looking begrudgingly to each other, smiling a semi-forced smile, the sisters slowly side-hugged each other in a “See? Friends!” sort of way. - She could tell the two weren’t happy, but they got an A for effort. “Alrighty~ Let me just get out my phone real quick.” Digging through her purse (which she had thankfully kept on before she ran after Lola), she soon pulled out her phone, which had a unique cover. The cover was pink in color, with a pattern of purple hearts and teddy bears, as well as rhinestones scattered throughout. “Oh yeah! I’m still getting used to that,” she showed them the phone. “My cousin made this case for my birthday. Isn’t it neat?!” - Syd and Kat were like a pair of puppies themselves, watching as Audrey pulled out her phone. If their ears could’ve perked up, they would have- the case was so cute! “Uh-huuuuuuuh.” J.C. had to chuckle a bit; he didn’t really know whether it was the shininess of the phone case or the promise of watching dogs playing together, but the way his sisters looked right now was pretty funny. - Audrey chuckled. “Alright alright. Enough of that. Onto the video~” Scrolling through her gallery, she found what she was looking for, turned up the brightness and volume, then pointed the screen towards the girls as she pressed play. The video started with a view of Lola and a small white chihuahua with semi long fur. The two dogs were sharing a rope toy, each with an end in their mouth. While the chihuahua tugged with all her might, Lola simply stayed still, tail wagging as she watched the smaller dog try to take the toy. “I don’t think Daisy’s getting that toy any time soon,” Audrey’s voice could be heard from behind the camera. “Let’s give her a break. Lola, come here, girl!” Rather than drop the toy and come to her master, Lola instead dragged the toy and the chihuahua over to her, resulting in cackles from those off screen. - The once squabbling siblings immediately quieted down and watched the video intently. It almost seemed like the two were in some sort of trance, giggling almost simultaneously. J.C. shook his head, amused at the girls and the dogs. - The video ended and Audrey chuckled. “Yeah. They’re a hoot, alright! You want to see some pictures?” - Cue a simultaneous nod from the sisters.

- “Alrighty~” She brought up her photo album for Lola and Daisy and proceeded to flip through it. - Both girls giggled at the sight of the two. “Note to self: when these two start squabbling, find cute puppy pictures.” J.C. mumbled, pretending to scribble on an invisible notepad. - Audrey giggled, then snorted. She proceeded to cover up her nose, bashful. - J.C. giggled at…well, Audrey’s giggle; it was so cute! - She cleared her throat, as if to clear the awkwardness she felt away, and moved on to flip through the pictures. She had quite a few of them. “I could send you some, if you want. Though I suppose I would need your email for that.” - E-mail? Huh…that…must mean that she wanted to keep in contact?? Not that he minded, of course. It was just…they’d only JUST met. Or maybe it was because if he didn’t have them, Syd and Kat would constantly be begging to go back to Michigan, just so they could find Audrey and have her show pictures of Daisy and Lola. “Uuuuuh, sure!” he said, trying not to chuckle awkwardly. First time a pretty girl had asked for his e-mail. “Do you, um…want me to type it in on your phone as a little note, or…?” - She really hadn’t put much thought into it when she’d said it, but she soon realized the implications of what she’d said. Oops. Not that she would mind keeping in contact… She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Sure thing!” she said as she opened up her notes app and handed it to him. “If you get an email from 'teddy bear lover,’ it’s me.” - J.C. gave her a nod and quickly typed in his e-mail address. “Aaaaand if you get a response from….” His…e-mail was a liiiittle embarrasing, he thought. He had made it when he was about Syd’s age, so… “…well, this, then it’s me.” “Bluerangerbaguette714”….seemed like a good idea at the time. He liked Power Rangers, he liked baguettes, and 7/14 was an important holiday in France. “I, uh…haven’t updated it yet. Made it when I was about 10 or 11….” he chuckled nervously, face turning a bit pink. - Audrey looked at the email address and had to make a great effort not to laugh. She was trying so hard, her body was actually shaking slightly. “Makes sense,” her voice came out as a squeak. “My dad helped me pick mine so I wouldn’t be embarrassed late-her-her-her!” So much for not laughing. “I’m sorr-ee-hee-hee!” - Eeeeeh, he should’ve seen that coming. Way to go, 10-11 year old J.C. …Buuuuut at least he could laugh at himself. He joined in on the laughter; a little awkward at first, but it started to sound more natural as he went on laughing. “It is kind of ridiculous, looking back on it.” he admitted. - Audrey held a hand to her face, trying to stifle the laughter. “It’s not that funny! I just told myself not to laugh and that made it hilarious!” Her laughter did die down to a snicker and Lola looked at the two in confusion. - “I mean, if you imagine something like…” he began to “demonstrate” a few Power Rangers-like poses and trying to say random things in French as epically as he could, “…while thinking of it, then…I mean, that’s usually what I think of anytime I read that.” - She snickered a few more times at the poses. “As someone who knows karate, that just makes it more hilarious.” - Syd snickered at her brother. “You’re a dork, J.C.” “The dorkiest~” he responded. “The dorkiest in all the la- wait a sec…karate??” Syd asked, turning her focus to karate. “You knowkarate??” - “Mm-hm~” she nodded. “I may not be the violent type, but karate is good for blowing of steam and is a good confidence booster. I may not be the brightest, but at least I can raise my foot above my head.” She smiled awkwardly. “That’s what I like to tell myself, anyway.” - “Show me!!” Syd said, bouncing on her heels excitedly, “Please??” - “Raise my foot above my head? Sure!” She stood up from her seat on the bench and proceeded to do a few stretches before lifting her leg almost completely vertically. “Don’t try this at home, kids. Not without lots of practice, anyway.” - All 3 Malones (Syd, mainly-followed by J.C. and Kat in terms of intensity) went wide eyed. “Hoooooly crud!” Syd gasped, awestruck. - Audrey chuckled and brought her leg back down. “Yeah. I’ve been practicing this sort of stuff since I was a kid.” - “Not to brag, but…” Syd dusted off her knuckles, “I, uh….I do a bit of karate myself.” “I don’t think what you do is actually karate,” Kat piped up, “I think that’s more like flailing about.” Syd “hmmph"ed, took a few steps back, and demonstrated some of her "moves”. - “Hmmm… I’d say that was more… avant-garde karate than traditional karate.” Translation: You’re not very good, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings. - Syd smirked at her sister. “See? She knows talent when she sees it.” - Audrey simply smiled and nodded. Best not to break her confidence. She’d offer to teach her some moves, but she doubted she’d see the trio again anytime soon. - “Whateeeever you say.” Kat mumbled quietly, rolling her eyes at her sister. “ ’S gonna come in handy when I get a job when I’m older.” Syd added. “…What was that again?” J.C. asked. With Syd, it changed just about every couple of weeks. “Circus performer/bodyguard/secret agent…with a penthouse.” - “I’m guessing you’re aiming for a more physical line of work then? Can’t blame ya. I’m a personal trainer myself.” - “Oooo, that sounds like a good idea, too! Maybe add that to the list…” J.C. chuckled, “With a physique like that, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Maybe that was a little too forward? He coughed, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Good surprised, though. You, ah…I imagine you’re very skilled at your job- helping people with getting into shape. - “My physique? You haven’t even seen me out of these clothes,” she laughed, before realizing what she said. “N-not like that!” she stammered. “I meant out of these specific clothes! My workout clothes show more.” - "I, um…I’d hope so? N-not in a weird way! Just….so you don’t get overheated or anything; speeding up the dehydration process while exercising is rather risky, and…” His voice began to trail off, “I’m…gonna stop talking now…I…made it awkward…” Syd looked between the two, smirking a bit to herself. Super friendly to each other AND awkward when they think they’ve made a misstep? Oooo, was Cupid nearby~? - “No, no; it’s fine,” she chuckled. “I know what you meant. It’s good to dress for your workout; don’t overheat or sweat up your regular clothes.” She sat back down and began petting Lola. “Though I know some prefer the less revealing clothes. I used to be the same. Took me a while to get past some of my self esteem issues, y'know? You just gotta get a breathable material.” - J.C. nodded, understanding the “self-esteem issue” thing all too well. Not really wanting to dive into that (mainly because…well, come on, he and Audrey had just met), he focused more on the breathable fabric thing.“Yeah. That way it’s like…when a person’s all done workin’ out for the day, they’re not dripping with sweat or smelling like an old pair of socks.” - Audrey snickered. “Depends on your definition of a workout. That’s why we have showers at the gym~” She paused for a moment. “Weren’t we talking about stuff to do in Michigan? How’d we get here?” she laughed. - Oh thank goodness, the subject changed. He laughed, “Dunno, that’s actually a really good question…” “Can I go back an’ play now?” Kat asked. “Go for it.” J.C. told her, giving her a small nod and taking a glance at his watch. “ 'Bout 30 more minutes, alright? I want to get you guys fed, too.” “Can we get those coney dogs??” Syd asked. J.C. shrugged, “Yeah, sure. Probably the only time we’re going to be able to get them, so why not?” “Sweet!” Syd gave Lola a quick pet before running back to the playground. “Last one there’s a rotten egg!” she called to Kat. The little blonde mimicked her sister’s actions, instead yelling “Bye, Audrey! It was nice to meet you!” “What she said!!” Syd shouted back. - “Same to you!” she called out before relaxing back against the bench. “They seemed nice~ I should probably give you directions before I forget.” She proceeded to dig through her purse. “I’m sure I have a pen and paper in here somewhere… Also; while it’s not limited to Michigan, it seems to be a northern U.S. thing. If you can find Blue Moon ice cream, go ahead and try some. I can’t really describe the flavor, but I love the stuff. If you’ve ever had Superman ice cream, it’s basically the blue part in that.” - J.C. chuckled. “They try. Kind of nice that they’re screaming more from running around than fighting. Iiii…don’t think I’ve had that flavour before, but with a name like 'Superman’, that might sound like something Syd’ll like. May as well try some Blue Moon just for the heck of it, y'know?” - Having pulled a notebook and a pen, Audrey proceeded to jot down the directions. “Yup yup! Always nice to try something new~” In addition to the directions, she jotted down a few other places they could look into while in Michigan. - “Haha, yeah. I should tell that to Kat, or as I call her: 'Little Miss No-Greens’. She’ll eat her fruits and veg, yeah, but only if they aren’t green. …Good thing it’s 'Blue Moon’ ice cream and not…'Green Moon’.” Okay, so that was kind of a lame joke, but hey. Glancing over at her writing, he smiled a bit. Not only writing down the names of places, but directions, too! “…Forgive me if this sounds a bit weird, but…you have really nice handwriting.” - Audrey chuckled at the green moon joke, then giggled at the compliment of her handwriting. “Not weird,” she assured as she bashfully played with her hair, twirling a short curl around her finger. It was nice to get a compliment on something that wasn’t her physique. “I take a lot of notes. Helps me remember things.” - He nodded, “Always good, always good. Nothing worse than having something super important you need to do or get, then completely forgetting to. Like… 'don’t forget the milk….don’t forget the milk….wait, what was I getting?…Ah, crud! I forgot the milk!” - Audrey snickered. “Yeah. That’s why I write everything down,” she flipped through her notebook to show page upon page of notes. “I’ve had friends ask how I got them the perfect gift, and I’m like, 'Remember how you were talking about that thing three months ago? Yeah. I wrote it down.'” She flipped a page and twirled her pen. “Speaking of, how do you spell your sisters’ names? I wanna write them down. Yours too… I’m imagining there’s more to your name than a J and a C.“ - “I should start doing that,” he noted, “Did it a lot more while I was still in school, but having recently graduated, eeeeh….not so much. Would be good to get back into the habit.” At the “more than a J and a C” comment, he chuckled. “I would hope so, otherwise my parents were very lazy. It’s short for Jean-Claude: J-E-A-N, dash ,C-L-A-U-D-E. Syd’s is S-Y-D-N-E-Y, and Kat’s is K-A-T-R-I-N-A.” - “A-ha! It’s a good thing I asked,” she proceeded to write the names down. “I definitely would have spelled those wrong otherwise. You never know; that Greg could be spelled with two Gs at the end or something.” - “Haha, yeah! Or the 'Christopher’ that you pass by every day spells it as 'K-R-I-S-T-O-F-F-E-R.” he replied, offering an example. - “Oh goodness. That reminds me of a comedian talking about names who said he met a girl named Amy, but it was spelled A-Y-M-I-E. I think it was Brian Regan.” - J.C. had to laugh, “Or you get a name that has about seven different consonants all piled together, but it’s pronounced as 'Jim’.” - Audrey snickered. “Okay; now you’re just making stuff up.” - J.C. gave her a cheeky smile. “Maaaaybe just a little, yeah.” - “Your sister was right. You are a dork,” she grinned. - “Now if only being a dork was a profession.” he snickered, “I’m overqualified.” - “You’d have some stiff competition. I’ve memorized at least half the recent My Little Pony songs word for word. And let’s not forget all the Disney songs.” - “If it’s any consolation, I do a meeeean rendition of 'I Just Can’t Wait to Be King’…granted, I’m always designated as Zazu, but hey.” J.C. shrugged, “Now my 'Winter Wrap Up’ can use a bit of work, but…” - He knew My Little Pony too? Nice! Audrey grinned before softly singing one of Nala’s lines. “No one saying be there~” - Cue him responding with a “No one saying 'Stop that!’ ” - “No one saying seeee heeeere~” She jokingly thought that, if he joined her on that line, he must be her soulmate. - He did indeed, laughing a bit as he did so. - Audrey laughed as well, unable to believe he actually did it. “Oh, wow. You’re the first guy who’s ever sung Disney with me… Well, besides kids… and my dad… Okay; the first adult male who isn’t related to me.” - J.C. shrugged, smiling, “Hey, you have to admit that they are pretty catchy, so it’s kind of hard not to. …Well, that and it’s pretty fun to sing along to stuff, anyway.” - She nodded in agreement. “It’s a little different when you’re in front of other people though.” She rubbed her arm, smiling bashfully. “I’m usually a bit shy with that sort of thing, but, I dunno, you seem… safe? for lack of a better word. Like, I don’t imagine you would make fun of me. Then again, we did just meet, but, eh,” she shrugged. “just a feeling.” - 'Safe’, awwww~ That was kind of the way he felt about her, too. His heart felt like it was burning with something. Not heartburn or anything like that, but more like…some warm affection-type feelings. They appeared to be past the level of acquaintance and more on the level of “friends who hadn’t seen each other in years”…which was kind of strange, since they’d just met. Best not to question it, though…. He gave her a gentle smile, “It sucks being on the end where you get laughed at. I know from experience, it’s…not the best feeling. So I make it a point not to do that to others, y'know? Break the cycle, treat others how you want to be, something along those lines…” - “Woof,” Audrey exhaled, looking towards the sky. “Tell me about it. I was prime bully bait as a kid. Not only did I have plenty to make fun of, I cried really easy, so they always got a reaction.” - J.C. mimicked Audrey’s actions, “My main 'points of fault’, I say with heavy emphasis on the air quotes, were the fact that I was still learning English, my accent- a lot heavier at the time- my glasses… the list goes on and on.” - She sat back up and pointed to her front teeth, which were fairly large in comparison to the rest of her teeth. “You see these? This is after I’ve grown into them.” She paused for a moment, looking confused. “Who makes fun of a French-English accent?!” she exclaimed as she threw her hands up. “Those are, like, the best accents to have!” - “At least they weren’t missing…? I know that’s not a lot of help, but…” he pointed to his, “These two are actually fake. Got my two adult teeth knocked clean out when I was a little older than Syd. Took a while to get the implants, so…” he blew a bit of air out of his nose, “Bet you can guess how well that went over with the little buttmunches that were in my class. The real kicker was when I finally got them and sounded like Daffy Duck for a solid month and a half.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “That….probably isn’t much help, and I don’t mean to make it sound like I’m taking the conversation away from you, but…I dunno, that whole 'safe’ feeling you said you have with me kind of…extends over from me to you, too.” - “Cheese on a cracker!” Audrey exclaimed with a hand to her chest. “That’s horrible! How on earth did they manage that; a hammer?!” She waved her hands. “Oh no no no no. It’s fine. I’m talking to you, not at you.” - He gave her a nod, a sort of not verbal way of saying “I understand”, before continuing. “More like running into a tree…going down a hill on a bike…at near full speed….as part of a dare from a couple of older boys. The bit they forgot to mention was that I had to jump off the bike before it hit.” He sighed, shaking his head, “Y'know, part of that was my fault for taking the dare, but…11 year old me didn’t want them thinkin’ I was a chicken or anything.” He smirked, another thought occurring to him, “Althooooough….I knew one of the older kids, so before I went home, I went to his house first and showed his parents- who knew my parents and were good friends with them- what happened.” - Audrey grimaced, recoiling at the thought of such a stunt. “I’m sure that was a delight for them to see,” she shuddered before shaking her head to rid herself of the thought. “My dad actually had to have a veneer in high school. He got in a fight, something he never does, because the guy made my mom cry. They barely knew each other at the time, but Dad was smitten with her from day one. Anyway, he was beaten to a pulp and lost a chunk of tooth, but he married my mom in the end so… yaaaayyy…” she waved her hands. - “Ooof…” J.C. had to cringe at the thought, “Buuuut…I guess in the end, it all worked out? Better than my parents. …I’m…not 100% sure of how my birth parents met, but my current ones…that’s a different story. Short and skinny is that they knew each other as kids, Mum was a right pillock to Dad, she moved away, then they re-united in uni and I guess…everything worked out? Apologies, burying the hatchet, all that good stuff.” - “Huh,” she shrugged, “Fair enough.” She paused to look down at Lola. “I wonder if she knew we would get along somehow. Like some sort of doggy sixth sense. I mean, out of all the people in the park, she went straight for you.” - He chuckled, “I dunno…I mean, the same tends to happen when people ask me to hold their babies and they’re all smiles and whatnot. I don’t even do much, other than give them a 'Hey, what’s up, little darlin’?’ or ’Salut, petit lapin!’ and I’m getting this few-toothed smile.” He stopped and thought for a second, “I mean…people aren’t handing me babies all the time, but…you get what I mean, right?” - Audrey tittered at the thought. “Come, Julia! We must find a kind stranger to hold our baby!” - J.C. started to go into a giggle fit, trying to picture the scenario. - Audrey did as well. Meanwhile… While Edward wasn’t the boss, he was well respected in his workplace. He was a hard worker and had been with the company for over twenty years. He knew the inner workings of things and could navigate the building blindfolded. While he may not be the most social, he was certainly polite and was sure to greet the employee from their English branch. “Roger Malone, was it?” the exceedingly tall man inquired, holding out his hand to shake. - New country, new people…at least it’s the same company? Albeit, a different branch, but…stiiill the same company, so not all that much should be that different. Kind of wished that Reggie or Eric had come along, that way I’d at least know someone… “Roger Malone, was it?” came a voice. Snapping out of his little funk, the Englishman smiled in the direction it was coming from. Ah! Now time to match a voice to a faaaaa….hoooooly moley, this guy was huge! Was…was that who that voice belonged to? Only one way to find out…. “Aaah, yes! Yes, that’s me.” he chuckled, “I know I have a few names I was supposed to remember, so I’m going to take a stab in the dark, and say yooooou’re…” David? Jack? Not a Sandra, that was for sure… “…Edward?” - “First try; impressive. Edward Davis; yes,” he nodded. “I believe the meeting is in,” he checked his watch, “about fifteen minutes. So you should have time to learn your way around or stop by the breakroom. There may still be a doughnut or two, if you hurry.” - Roger gave him a nod. Sure, this guy seemed really intimidating, but…it wasn’t like he was trying to assert his dominance over him? Nothing like “Move it, peasant, there are doughnuts with MY name on it in the breakroom.” “Duly noted…perhaps a little stroll around, then, ah…get down to business, eh?” Totally nailed that office small talk. - Edward simply nodded, not acknowledging the awkwardness. He could be awkward himself, when out of his element. “I’ll leave you to it then. If you need help with anything, Sandra should be happy to assist. She’s pretty easy to spot with her curly blonde hair and large glasses. If you can’t find her, well, it’s pretty hard to miss me,” he chuckled slightly. - “Curly hair, large glasses…got it. Cheers, mate.” he gave him a smile and a nod before heading off. Hmm, maybe this guy would be the guy to stick to during this whole shebang. Seemed like he knew what was up. - Edward did the same and went about his business until it was time for the meeting. The meeting went about as well as one could expect, if a little longer than usual to fill in the newcomer. Statistics were discussed, questions were asked, ideas were suggested, and progress was made. Satisfied, the higher ups dismissed the others to go about their usual business. - The question was…what…exactly was his usual business now? Roger’s usual usual business involved bumming around with Reg and Eric for a little bit before getting back to work, but they were back in England. Then he got a glimpse of Edward again. He knew his way around…would he mind if he just shadowed him for a bit? “Aaah, Edward?” - Edward turned around and raised a brow at the Brit. “Yes? Can I help you?” - “Er, perhaps.” He cleared his throat, obviously a little nervous, “Would it…trouble you if I, ah…shadowed you for a little while? You’re the only face that I can actually immediately place. I don’t know if our positions are equivalents to one another, but…it’s always good to know a little about a lot?” Translation: Holy cow, I’m beyond awkward around here, please let me just stay under your wing for a bit. - Thankfully, Edward decided to show mercy on the awkward man. “That shouldn’t be a problem, as long as you don’t go shouting in my ear while I’m trying to work or something.” He made a subtle gesture with his head to follow him before heading for his office. The inside of his office was a strange mix of sterile and welcoming. While he had various degrees on his walls with pens and papers arranged just so, he also had photos and childish nick-knacks scattered about. Seemed he wasn’t the only influence on his office. - “Oh! Noooo, no, no, no, I usually keep to myself, anyway. Perhaps a little chatter here and there with a couple of colleagues, but otherwise…” Upon entering the office, the sterility offset him juuuust a tad. Sure, Roger was a rather tidy man as well, but this was perhaps a step up from his level of cleanliness. Then he caught sight of the photos and little “decorations”. Resisting the urge to breathe a sigh of relief (“Oh thank god, he’s human”), Roger couldn’t help but crack a small smile, having a couple in his own little office space back home. Must be a “dad” thing- having a couple little “projects” your kids have done just hanging around in your workspace. “Family man, eh?” he asked, breaking the silence. - “They’re my world,” he admitted, smiling softly and making his front teeth even more prominent. Turning a frame on his desk to face the other man, the photo revealed a recent photo of his wife and daughter. The two women shared the traits of red hair, green eyes, and freckles. The daughter had short hair while the mother had long hair. Another major difference between them, besides their ages, was the fact the mother was short and of an average build while the daughter was taller with an athletic build. “My wife, Abigail, and our daughter, Audrey. Quite the family resemblance, isn’t there?” he smiled widely, proud of his girls. Edward almost seemed to become another person when it came to his family. - Roger had to chuckle a little; to think that this scary looking guy was a big ol’ softie. “They’re lovely~” he responded, as he started to dig out his wallet. If they were going to do an impromptu show and tell, then he supposed it was his turn. “Let’s see…” Finally getting the wallet out, Roger dug around and found a more recent photo of his family. “Aha!” He handed it over to Edward, “This one took a few tries, since everyone wanted to muck about, buuuut…” In it were him, a blonde woman who was a couple inches shorter (and had a looser sense of dressing; nice jeans and a shirt as opposed to Roger’s shirt and tie deal), a young man close to his height and in a rugby shirt, and two young girls: one with hair a shade or two darker than her mother’s and dressed a little more “girly”(t-shirt and a skort), and one with bright red hair, dressed more casually: sweatshirt and shorts…and a purposefully goofy smile. “My wife Charlotte, my son J.C., and my daughters: Katrina and Sydney.” he said, pointing each of them out. - Edward took the photo and adjusted his glasses as he got a good look. “You still have young ones, I see. One of them pretty mischievous, from the looks of it,” he smirked as he handed the picture back. “Thankfully the more mischievous of my family are my nieces and nephews and not my responsibility… They’re nothing compared to their mothers though.” - Roger chuckled, both at Edward’s comment on his picture and his “not my responsibility” comment. “Yeeeeah, haha. Could be worse…one of Charlotte’s siblings has triplets, who’ve just turned two.” - “Three terrible twos? I’m good with numbers, but I don’t have an answer to that. Speaking of multiples; my wife’s older sisters are identical twins. Quite literally double trouble, given their natures.” - “They don’t either, apparently. Just kind of taking it a day at a time. ” he laughed, “Twins, eh? Interesting! My wife’s older brothers are twins as well. Fraternal, though.” - “Huh. Small world,” he mused aloud as he sat down at his desk and began typing away. “Sorry. We can keep talking. I just feel the need to be productive while we do so.” Working was practically a compulsion for the man. - “Guess so.” he chuckled. “And that’s totally alright.” Granted, as he said that, Roger had sort of…run out of things to talk about other than the weather… - The room was silent for a bit, save for the click-clacking of the computer keys. “…Would it be alright with you if I put some music on?” He usually listened to music while he worked. While this was usually done via headphones, he didn’t want to appear as though he was ignoring the man, nor did he want to leave him in awkward silence. - Roger gave him a nod. “Go for it.” Hey, potential new topic of conversation! “What, ah…what sort of music are you into, out of curiosity?” - Edward proceeded to take out an iPod from one of his drawers and skim through his music. “It’s difficult to pinpoint, honestly. I listen to multiple genres and it can vary depending on my mood.” Now, what might the average person like? “…How about some pop rock?” - Roger shrugged, “Fine by me.” - Edward nodded and brought up the playlist. Upon pressing play, Michael Jackson’s Thriller started through the iPod’s speaker. - A smile started to spread across Roger’s face. “Heh. Usually anytime I hear this, it’s from Sydney blasting it the morning of October 31st. I find it interesting that it was actually released almost an entire month after Halloween, yet that’s what a lot of people associate the song with…” - “Not surprising, given the theme of the song and the accompanying music video. I really appreciate the choreography in that video.” - “Right? To be honest, the one that gets me is 'Beat It’; albeit more so for the whole 'two legitimate rival gangs’ thing. To think they were able to not completely brutalize each other honestly astounds me.” - “Couldn’t have been easy,” he remarked as he typed. “Shame music and dancing can’t really solve your problems, like in the movies.” - Roger chuckled, “Yeeeah. If it was able to, my wife and I would have been friends starting in childhood, as opposed to establishing a friendship during university. Long story.” - “Actually, if it weren’t for conflict, I likely wouldn’t have wound up with my wife. Also a long story.” - …Huh. Interesting… “I mean…I’m up for sharing mine; I’m not sure about you. Though, I am curious. If you’re comfortable sharing, would you like to elaborate first or shall I?” - Edward took a look at his watch, before scooting away from his desk and facing his chair towards Roger. If they were going into long stories, he could at least give him his full attention. “I have some time. Go ahead,” he gestured slightly with his hand. - Roger gave him a small nod, found an available chair, sat, and took a deep breath. “Fair enough. Right, let’s see…both her and I were born in and spent most of our childhood in Liverpool. It’s a fairly sizeable city, however, the two of us ended up attending the same primary school. Her by her own volition, and myself since my mother was the headmistress. Her being a 'rebel’ and me being a 'toffee-nose’ as she called it, Charlotte wasn’t exactly keen on me, or a number of other students. Or teachers, for that matter. She was a…er, perhaps a couple of steps above being considered a 'troublemaker’- enough to the point where she ended up being expelled. Now, after that, there were several rumours that had gone around; saying she ended up in prison, fled the country…” He chuckled, thinking back on some of the other rumors that circulated, “In actuality, she went to another school. Save for perhaps…two or three times in between, neither of us saw each other again until university. We ended up being paired together for a project. I was still considered as a bit of 'teacher’s pet’, whereas she never really left her 'rebellious’ phase. The process itself was akin to pulling teeth, but eventually, we found out that the two of us knew each other…albeit, our last memories of one another were not exactly the best, per se. It took a number of months. but eventually, she had opened up quite a bit and ended up apologizing for the grief she’d caused me as a lad. ” He smiled slightly, “After that, we just started hanging out together, and lo and behold, sometime later we ended up getting married and raising three children.” - Edward listened and nodded politely as the other spoke. “That’s a nice story. Not everyone gets an apology from someone who wronged them, let alone marries them.” - Roger shrugged, chuckling. “I guess she really needed was some time to mature. Same for me, as well. Come a bit out of my shell and all.” - Edward nodded. “I know the feeling. Abigail makes sure I don’t keep to myself too much. As for our story… how much time do you have? I have a tendency to wax poetic with this sort of thing.” - Roger laughed, “I’ve got all day, mate. Lay it on me.” - “Very well.” Smiling, he began his story. “Abigail… I’ll never forget the moment I saw her… It was during my junior year of high school. I was on my way to class when, among the cacophony of locker doors slamming, the squeaking of shoes on the hallway floor, and the incessant chatter of students, I heard the most beautiful sound to ever grace my ears. It was a giggle, soft and pure, conveying the warmth and happiness one would expect of an angel. That’s what she was, an angel. And, just as one would expect of an ethereal being, I was only able to catch a glimpse of her as she passed by. Hair the color of the rising sun and eyes that sparkled like emeralds, she was, and still is, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I was completely in awe. I had no idea how a girl as beautiful as her could exist, nor how I couldn’t have noticed her until that point. While I’ve never been able to answer the first question, it wasn’t long until I was able to answer the latter. I’d never seen her before because she had only just begun attending our school.” He did warn Roger he could wax poetic. The rest of his story was just as eloquently worded; covering how, though he admired her, he didn’t pursue her, how he tried to be happy for her when she began dating a bully of his, the rage he felt when the other had taken advantage of her, the fight for her honor that he lost, and the gratitude Abigail had for his attempt. - ….Man, he wasn’t kidding. Edward was practically a reincarnation of Shakespeare- armed with a silver tongue and a talent for creating crystal clear imagery. It was almost as if Roger was there himself, observing from the sidelines. “That was….forgive me for being so emotional, but…” Roger wiped some stray tears from his eyes. “That was absolutely beautiful…” - Edward chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as a blush painted his features. “The story itself or the way I told it?” - “Both. Any of those degrees you hold happen to be an English or Literature one?” - He chuckled once more. “I’m afraid not. My interest in the arts is not something I’ve pursued outside of hobbies. I was encouraged to pursue a stable career path, in my youth.” - “Aaah. I mean…perhaps having it as a hobby is slightly better than a career? In those fields, I have been told that how much you make- if anything- is all dependent on luck. With your talent, I imagine you would be able to have been noticed fairly easily, but…perhaps it would be more stressful, in a sense. There are deadlines in an office setting, yes, but deadlines in an artistic sense…what if you’re in a creative slump but need to produce something the next day and are unable to?” He chuckled nervously, hoping that his 'spitballing’ of sorts made at least some sense. “That’s all a matter of opinion , I suppose. I-I don’t consider myself as one of those types that thinks that being an artist, in any medium, isn’t a career…” - “Exactly. I don’t think I’d be able to think and create freely whilst simultaneously being restricted by deadlines.” He sighed slightly and smiled. “Besides, I’m quite content with where I am now. I’m not looking for fame. I have a job that provides for my family and I can still engage in my interests as hobbies.” - Roger nodded, smiling as well, “So all in all, it sort of worked out.” - “Pretty much.” He checked his watch, brows rising at the time. “I really talked your ear off there. It’s almost lunch. Speaking of, I can recommend some good places to eat, if you haven’t been here before.” - “Is it?” Roger checked his as well, and eyebrows shooting up as a result. “Ah, so it is. Time flies when you’re having fun, I suppose. That would be great, actually! I’ve been to the States several times, but not Michigan…so I’m not sure what this place does and doesn’t have.” - “It would be remiss of me to not mention coney dogs while you’re here. Other states have tried to make them, but Michigan really is the best place to get one. Though the absolute best place to get one is a little shop only open in the summer, but I know a place that’s a close second.” - “Aw, drat…but hey, second best is better than nothing I suppose!” Roger paused, “What, ah…what exactly is a coney dog, if you don’t mind my asking?” - Edward laughed, or rather, exhaled through his nose. “It’s basically a really good hot dog topped with a seasoned meat sauce, onions, and mustard. Not to be confused with a chili dog. While not gourmet food, it’s sort of a local specialty that I’ve yet to see done just right anywhere else.” - Roger nodded as he listened. “Ah! Definitely sounds like something the kids will eat, so if need be, that covers dinner…probably will have one for myself as well- just to say that I’ve tried it.” - “I certainly recommend it. Jackson is serious about its coney dogs, so if you ever want to try one, here’s the place… Now I’m craving one, honestly. You want to come with me so I can show you where it is?” - Roger chuckled, “Might as well.” - Back at the park, Audrey parted ways with the trio of tourists to take Lola back home. Energetic as she was, a puppy needed her rest. In fact, Audrey had to carry the pooped pooch part of the way home. When lunchtime rolled around, the redhead found herself craving a Coney dog something fierce. She didn’t want to come across as though she was following the group, but she figured they would have already eaten and left by the time she got there. Upon reaching the restaurant, Audrey was surprised to see a different familiar face exiting his car. “Hi, Dad!” Audrey called from across the parking lot. What were the odds? “Hi, sweetie!” Edward called back. - Upon arriving, Roger stayed in the car for a brief second to send a quick text to his son. When it sent, he unbuckled his seatbelt and joined Edward, chuckling a bit at the two’s interaction. “Ah! Daughter, right?” After Audrey left, it was soon time for J.C. and the kiddos to head on out. As expected, Syd and Kat had worked up an appetite, and started getting into a bit of a “discussion” over what to have. To keep them from going at it the entire time they were walking, the older brother told them that he already had a place in mind. …Granted, that meant he’d have to deal with the two of them going “Where’re we going?”, “C'mon, tell us!”, and “No, wait, lemme guess, it’s THIS place!”, but hey- they weren’t fighting. Pulling out his phone to check the time, he noticed that he had a text from his dad: If you’re in the area, I’m grabbing lunch with a colleague. If the girls can’t agree on somewhere, here’s the place’s address…“ The young adult chuckled, texting back You must be a mind reader, we’re actually on our way there now. Be there in 7-10 min. - Audrey cocked her head, confused, but smiled. It wasn’t often she saw her father outside the office with someone she hadn’t seen before, but she saw it as a good thing.

"Indeed I am~”

Edward beamed and placed a hand on her shoulder, always happy to introduce his daughter to someone.

“Hard to believe I helped make this beautiful young woman, isn’t it?” Edward laughed.

“Daaaaaaaaddyyyyyyy,” Audrey covered her face, but smiled all the same. - Roger chuckled, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Roger Malone, I’m, ah…sort of your father’s shadow today.” - Audrey raised a brow, not quite sure what he meant by that. “He works for a foreign branch of my company and has decided to stick close to me during his visit here,“ Edward explained. "Oohhh,” Audrey nodded. “It’s funny you should mention that. I actually met three people from England today. Well, two girls from England and one man originally from France…” - Roger raised an eyebrow and had to hold back a small smirk, “Let me guess…one of the girls had bright red hair, the other was blonde, and the man had glasses?” - Audrey blinked. “Yeah. How’d you know- wait…” she started snickering. “You’re their dad, aren’t you?” - The man chuckled, “Indeed I am.” - “What are the odds?” Audrey laughed. “Wait… uh-oh…” Edward looked confused. “Why uh-oh?” “Now they’re gonna think I’m following them,” she half whined. “I told them about this place, but I thought they would have been here and left by now.” “I doubt that will be a problem,” her father assured. “Besides, who would be disappointed to see you again?” he smiled and ruffled her hair. “Dad…” she sighed. - Roger smiled slightly. “I sent him a text, he said he’d be here in no more than 10 minutes or so. May be a bit longer since he’s got two little munchkins in tow, but we’ll see.” - “No more, but maybe longer,” Audrey snickered. “Ahhh, I’m just kidding.” - The father chuckled, “You never know.” - Her smile faltered a bit. “Sooo, should I leave orrr…?” - “Nooo, no, no, no, no! You’re welcome to stay, I don’t see it being an issue at all.” He looked to Edward, “Besides, lunch with your children- regardless of age- is always a nice change from grabbing something by yourself.” - “I suppose it’s like a daddy daughter double day… with a son,” she smiled awkwardly. - “In a sense, yes.” Roger chuckled, “Should we be heading over to get some food, or would you rather we wait for the other three?” - “It wouldn’t be very polite to eat before everyone is seated, let alone before everyone is in the building,” Edward remarked. - “Ah, true, true.” He put a hand to his forehead and gasped, trying to be dramatic and funny. “A most shameful misstep on my part.” - Audrey snorted at this as Edward exhaled through his nose. - Roger chuckled and straightened himself up. Seemed as though goofiness ran in the family… Meanwhile, about 2 minutes away… “J.C., come ON! Where’re we going?!” Syd whined. “I told you, it’s a surprise~” he said, teasing her a bit. - “-and then Lola just bolted over to them! J.C., specifically. I don’t know what her deal was, but she went straight for him. Maybe she smelled the different country on him somehow,” Audrey laughed. - Roger laughed, “Quite possibly! I know that there’s the belief that animals and children can sense something in people, be that good or bad, so who knows…” “I don’t WANT a surprise; I want food!” “Really? Huh, that’s a first…fine, I’ll tell you. You remember that place that Audrey was talking about earlier?” Upon being asked this, the ten year old started to calm down a bit. “…The one with the hot dogs?” “Well, coney dogs, to be more specific, but yes. And we have a guest joining us….” That seemed to perk the two up a bit. Food AND company… - “Well, she wanted attention from him, so I imagine she sensed good,” she shrugged. “She certainly liked all the attention the girls gave her; that’s for sure!” - Roger chuckled, “Aaaah, looks like I’m going to be getting the 'Dad, can we get a dog??’ question when they get here…” - “Their brother already answered that, I think,” she snickered. - “Hopefully, he went with what I told him, and not 'heck yeah, let’s go down and get one right now.” the father chuckled. “Are we there yet?” Kat asked. J.C. took a quick look at the street signs, then off into the distance, trying to see if the place across the street was indeed the name of the place that Audrey had recommended. “Aaaaah, I think so?” He saw a couple of people standing in the parking lot, one soooort of looking like their dad? He wasn’t 100% sure. What he did know was that there was a guy who was huge…“C'mon, let’s go check it out.” Once they were safely across the street, Syd and Kat’s eyes grew huge, recognizing a familiar face. So THAT’S who their surprise guest was! Even before J.C. could recognize who it was, the girls dashed off. Initially thinking that the two were coming to him, Roger, turning his head at the sound of a “YAAAAAAAAAAY!!” from Syd, knelt down and braced for impact. …Only…they didn’t go for him… “Audreeeeey!!” Kat happily cooed, “J.C. was right, this WAS a surprise!” - “Hi, girls!"Audrey laughed, hugging the two. "Didn’t think I’d see you guys again so soon!” She smiled apologetically and shrugged at their father. “She has a way with kids,” Edward quietly informed Roger. - “Apparently. They blew right past me…” the dad chuckled. Wow, they seemed excited…did they miss Dad that much? Once J.C. got closer, he couldn’t help but smile. This was a nice surprise! Upon reaching his father, he put an arm around him. “I’m surprised they didn’t knock her over…”

- “She is a strong one,” Edward commented. “Turns out your dad and my dad work for the same company,” Audrey gestured to the respective fathers. “What are the odds, huh?” - “They do?” Kat asked. Looking to where Audrey gestures, she finally noticed Roger and made a bee-line for him. “Daddy!” While Roger pulled his youngest into a one armed hug (the other arm being around J.C.), Syd, meanwhile, stayed silent and with Audrey, looking at her father…or whoever that gargantuan person was. Was she 100% sure on that? That this guy was really her dad? They didn’t look all that alike, save maybe for the teeth. She wasn’t scared, per se, more in awe of the size of Edward - Audrey followed Syd’s gaze and she soon chuckled. “Tall, isn’t he? Don’t worry,” she leaned closer to whisper, “he’s nowhere near as tough as he looks.” - Syd merely blinked, as if she was observing something at a museum. “So you said you and Audrey’s daddy are here?” Kat asked. “Yup,” Roger gestured to Edward, “Kat, this is Mr. Davis. Edward, this is Kat.” The little girl looked up, then fell kind of quiet. He was HUGE! She was only 4'3", this guy had to be 11 feet tall at least. Tightening her grip around her dad’s hand ever so slightly, she gave Edward a slight nod and a bashful “Hi…” - Edward frowned as he looked between the two girls, believing them to be frightened of him. “It’s always this,” he sighed, “or begging to sit on my shoulders.” - “I’m not scared, really…” Syd spoke slowly, “You’re just really tall…” she smiled a bit, trying to convey that she was more amazed than frightened. - “I’m aware,” he nodded. “How many retorts do you have to 'How’s the weather up there’ joke now?” Audrey smirked. “I’m not sure, honestly. Surprisingly, it’s been a while since I’ve been asked that.” - “…How IS the weather up there, anyway?” the ten-year-old asked. - “Partly cloudy with a one hundred percent chance of a joke I’ve already heard.” - …Alright, that was kind of funny…Kat and an equally nervous J.C. (in a more “This is the girl that I think I like’s dad?! I know I’d have to watch out regardless, but holy moly…” sense, as opposed to Kat’s “I’m but a small bean, pls no.”) giggled. - Edward smiled and exhaled through his nose. “We should probably get inside before our lunch break is over.” “Ohh, good point,” Audrey perked up. “I have the day off, but you don’t.” - J.C. exhaled through his nose as well, “Guess it’s a good thing that you guys were here. These two were close to ripping my arms off from…'hangriness’? I know that’s not a word, but you get the idea.” - “I suppose the portmanteau of 'hanger’ wouldn’t really work, lest someone think they wanted to hold clothes,” Edward remarked as he held the door open. - J.C. chuckled. The man had jokes…always a good sign. Upon the door opening, Syd practically ran in (giving Edward a 'Thanks!!’ as she passed by)- partially to find a seat and partially because FOOOOD. “Sydney, slow down, please.” Roger spoke up, “Running isn’t going to speed up the amount of time it’ll take to get your food.” - “Nope. That’s up to us,” Audrey chuckled as she speed-walked in. “Thanks, Dad!” - J.C. and Roger (and a Kat attached to Roger’s leg), followed suit, giving Edward a “Thanks, mate” as they passed by. Even the somewhat nervous eight-year-old managed to squeak out a “Thank you, mister”. Syd quietly groaned and threw her hands up- not so much in an aggressive way, more like an exasperated Muppet. “Okaaaaay.” - “You’re welcome,” Edward said just before heading in himself. Rather than several tables, the restaurant had a few very long tables with chairs on either side. “Sooo…” Audrey started, “three on one side, three on the other?” - “Sounds fair.” J.C. nodded, “Keeps Kat and Syd from fighting over who gets to sit where.” - “Maybe we can go by family? Wait… that’s four to two…” Audrey pondered. “Boys and girls?” Edward suggested. - “That works.” Roger looked to his youngest, still clinging to him. “You going to be okay? Sitting over with your sister and Audrey?” Kat thought for a second before answering. “If Syd’s not gonna be flingin’ stuff at me, yeah.” Syd scoffed, “Naaaah, too many grown-ups around. You’re fiiiiine.” - “I could sit in the middle,” Audrey offered. “Any fights would have to go through me.” - Kat smiled slightly, “That works.” - As the group took their seats, Audrey slid off her light jacket to reveal her T-shirt and bare arms underneath. If they were wondering if she had strength to match her flexibility, there was their answer. - J.C.’s eyebrow’s popped up as he got a look at Audrey’s arms. Knowing that her father was right next to him, he had to resist the urge to whistle. - Audrey eyebrows scrunched together, feeling as though she was being watched. She looked up to see J.C. “…What?” - “Hm?” Ah, crud, he was noticed! Granted, he was looking at a “tame” part of her body, but still! “Ah! Sorry, sorry, I, um…I…” His face going a little pink, J.C. averted his gaze. “I just…caught a glimpse of…” he coughed, “You look…pretty strong.” Totally nailed that recovery. - Given her T-shirt didn’t really show any cleavage, she believed him. “Oh,” she shrugged before flexing her arm. “Yeah. I work out.” “She’s a pretty one, huh?” Edward smiled at him, but it was threatening and with a piercing gaze; a look that said, 'Don’t you dare.’ - Feeling incredibly small as he was given the “Dad Glare” (as Syd called it. Roger had a similar one, but Edward’s was about twice as intimidating), J.C. slunk a little in his seat, and replied with a “Y-yes, sir.” “Betcha she could totally piledrive ya, J.C.” Syd noted, as she watched Audrey flex. “..P…piledrive?” “Yeah! Like…SLAM! Right through a table!” Oh, she meant WRESTLING…oh thank god. J.C. chuckled nervously. “Um…p-probably, but…I don’t know if she would. N-not that it implies that she’s weak or anything! She can…I imagine she holds her own. I, er…I’m…going to shut up now. - Audrey seemed oblivious to her father’s 'threat’ as she laughed. "Maybe? You can calm down though. I wouldn’t try anything like that. I may like to spar here and there, but I only fight fight as a last resort.” - J.C. chuckled, trying to have it come of as NOT being nervous. “Haha…good to know.” “Aw, we could’ve tag teamed…” Syd whined slightly. - “Maybe for a play fight. If I gave it my all, I imagine I could be pretty dangerous. I mean, I have won a few karate competitions,” she couldn’t help but gloat a little. Her strength was something she had utmost confidence in. “I can break boards… cinder blocks… found out I can crush melons with my thighs…” - Cue J.C. sputtering and choking on his own saliva. “…You alright, son?” Roger asked. “ [cough] [cough]Yeah! Yeah, I’m [cough] f-fine!” - “Oh jeez! You choked on your own spit, didn’t you? Hate when that happens…” “Why did you try crushing melons with your thighs?” Edward asked. Audrey chuckled and absently played with her hair, “Well, I saw a lady do it on YouTube and it made me curious.” - “ [cough! cough cough] Yeah…” “Sometimes you learn the best stuff off of there.” Syd pointed out. - “It’s pretty good for how-tos,” she agreed. - The little redhead thought for a second.“…Soooo if I wanted to learn how to make a glitter bomb…” “Don’t get any ideas…” Roger started “I said 'if’, not 'I’m going to make one…” - Audrey tittered. “You’re such a scamp, Syd.” - “The scampiest~” Syd smiled. “So you’re saying you’re a shrimp dish?” J.C. asked, obviously joking. - Audrey giggled at the joke. “Or a chicken dish, depending on your taste and if you’re scared or not.” - J.C., Syd and Roger snickered. The only one who wasn’t all snicker-y was Kat. She wasn’t exactly scared or upset, per se, but more….cautious, mainly because of Edward. - Audrey noticed Kat’s lack of laughter. “You okay, Kat?” Edward looked over to the young blonde with a raised brow. He didn’t mean to look intimidating in doing so… but he looked intimidating in doing so. - Temporarily snapping out of her little funk, the little girl looked to Audrey. “Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I’m…I’m fine.” “You’re not sick, are you?” Syd asked, “'Cos I don’t want to get whatever it is you’ve got.” The little sister shook her head “no”. - Audrey frowned, able to tell she was lying. “If you’re worried about not liking the coney dog, you could always just scrape the coney meat off it and just eat the hot dog.” - “I think I’ll be okay.” Ah, good, a slight change in focus. Perhaps she could keep it going and ask her “standard” question when it came to trying new foods: “It doesn’t have any green stuff on it, does it? In the meat stuff?” - “Naahhh. You’re good. Not a vegetable in sight… Except for onion, but you can get it without.” - Kat smiled slightly, “That’s doable.” - “Good~ Oh, looks like it’s time to order,” Audrey chirped as she looked over at their server. - “Oo!” Syd chirped, looking over the menu. ���In that case, I’ll haaaaaaave…” Roger, J.C., and Kat followed in terms of ordering; nothing spectacular- a coney dog and a drink. - Audrey and Edward did the same; though they both ordered two coneys. Edward was a big guy and Audrey needed the fuel for her active lifestyle. - “They do dessert here, right?” Syd asked, smiling expectantly. - “They do, actually,” Audrey smiled. “It’s sort of a custom to get rice pudding as dessert when having coney dogs.” - Aaaaaand there went that smile. Here she was thinking they had ice cream. The idea of rice pudding was not sitting well with her, indicated by a slight “Ick!”. “Ah, c'mon, kiddo. You’re trying something new for food, you won’t do the same for dessert?” J.C. asked. He thought for a second; maybe a little of the “monkey see, monkey do” logic he would use when she was younger would work… “…I’m probably going to have some afterwards, would you be against trying a bite or two? ”…I mean, I guess I could have a bite. If you really can’t finish your dessert without someone else having a bite of it.“ Syd answered, trying to play it cool. J.C. smirked slightly. - "You’ve never had rice pudding?” she cocked her head. “It’s really good! Like, I know rice might have a weird texture to some, but this rice pudding is nice and creamy and sweet with cinnamon.” “Besides,” Edward started, “how will you ever find a new favorite food if you don’t try new food?” - Syd raised an eyebrow. “Cinnamon? Ooo, now I’m warming up to the idea~ That’s one of my favourite flavours…other than bubble gum, cherry, lemon, and cotton candy.” Kat’s “stiffness”, as it were, started to loosen up after she heard Edward. That sounded like something that her dad said a lot… - “Good~” Audrey and Edward spoke simultaneously. “I almost feel bad getting rice pudding without Mom,” Audrey chuckled. “Speaking of, have you talked to her today?” “You should know the answer to that,” Edward chuckled. “I called her this morning, just as I always do when we’re not in the same house.” “I’ll catch you forgetting one of these days,” she joked. - J.C. chuckled quietly, thinking the whole scenario was pretty cute. - “My mom is hanging out with her sisters today. That’s why she’s not here,” Audrey informed. - “Speaking of, did yooooou call Mum today???” Syd asked, interrogating her father. Roger chuckled, “I had sent her a text earlier; making sure she got to where she was going alright.” “You’ve gotta call her, though!” the ten year old lightly scolded, “It’s more important to talk and hear each other’s voices!” “I haven’t had a chance to, sweetheart. I’ll do it when I get back to the office, alright?” Syd gave her father a suspicious look, but backed down with an “…Okaaaaaay….if you say so…” - Edward couldn’t help but snicker at this. “This isn’t the competition of the dads, Syd,” Audrey chuckled. - Ah, and he laughed too! Kat smiled a bit at his reaction. “Mmm, you’re right, that’s on Father’s Day…” the child mused. - Audrey snorted at this. “No-ho it’s not!” - “So then why do they have all those 'World’s Greatest Dad’ mugs?! You don’t just get that title wily-nily!” - Audrey shook as she tried not to laugh.

“I don’t know,” she squeaked. - “They have the 'Dad Games’ in Scotland, right?” J.C. asked, snickering and going along with Syd’s misconception. “They sometimes coincide with Highland Games, so they combine the two?”

“Sometimes, I guess.” Syd confirmed, “But they replace something like caber tossing with ball tossing, if I remember correctly…”

Roger couldn’t help but snicker as well. - Audrey was a bit lost. She was certain he was joking, but she was unsure as to what was a joke and what wasn’t. If they had wife carrying in Finland, Dad Games in Scotland wasn’t that far fetched.

May as well play along so they don’t think she’s stupid.

“Do they have wife carrying like they do in Finland?” - “…They have that in Finland?” the child asked. - “If I remember right. I saw it on a show about strange competitions from around the world.”

Yes, she purposely left out the show was called World’s Dumbest. - “Oooooooh….”

“Soooo, do they?” J.C. asked Syd, seeing how long she could keep this up. “Have wife carrying competitions at the Dad Games?”

“I’m…not too sure. I think that’s one of the new events being added this year. That, and…you know the relay race where you have to carry an egg with a spoon? There’s s'posed to be something similar, except it’s with a baby and you’ve got to carry them to their crib as quickly as you can without waking them up.” - Audrey had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

Edward was pretty good at keeping a straight face, so he decided to weigh in while Audrey couldn’t.

“I certainly hope they don’t carry them using spoons. Dropping a baby is a lot worse than dropping an egg.” - “Oh, no, no- they carry them like you normally carry a baby.”

J.C. snickered, “You sure they don’t just use really big spoons?”

“No, 'cos that’s just dumb…” - “Pffckp!” Audrey clamped her hand over her mouth again. - Syd was confused; why was all of this so funny? They’d asked their question, and they were getting an answer. Adults were weird… - Audrey managed to stifle her laughter once more and her father remained straight faced, as usual.

“I’m guessing you four flew here,” Edward piped up to break the silence. - “ 'Course we did.” Syd answered, “It’s not like we can just jog across the ocean.” - “Your arms must be really tired then,” he smirked.

Audrey slapped a hand to her face.

-

J.C. mimicked Audrey, while Syd groaned. Total dad joke- she should’ve seen that coming!

Kat, on the other hand, giggled a little. Perhaps that apprehension of hers was starting to diminish.

-

Edward laughed at their reactions.

“Did you tell these dad jokes before I was born?” Audrey asked.

“No. They come in the handbook you get when you become a dad.”

-

“I believe 'Dad Jokes’ is Chapter 5.” Roger added.

“…There’s not a handbook, c'mooon…” Syd scoffed.

-

“Do you think we just learn as we go? That’d be ridiculous.”

-

“Do mums get one, too?” Kat asked.

-

“Theirs is less of a handbook and more of a full encyclopedia.”

-

“How come it’s bigger than just a handbook?” the little girl asked. Now she was curious…

-

“Because their book has all the hard stuff in it. The dad book mostly has jokes and funny faces to practice.”

-

Syd looked to J.C., “He’s not serious, is he?”

“Oh, he is.” the older brother confirmed, smirking. “When Mum was pregnant with you, they consulted their manuals. They did the same with Kat- you were too young to remember them doing it, though.”

The ten-year-old raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “So what about with you, then? Did they consult this 'manual’ too? ”

“There’s a section in the mum encyclopedia all about adoption- Chapters 15 and 16, if I remember correctly.”

-

“…Adoption?” Edward blinked, surprised.

-

J.C. looked over to Edward, chuckling a bit sheepishly. “Yes, I, um…I was adopted by your, ah…work mate here,” he gestured to Roger,  "at around 2 years old. Long story. …Well, not really a long story, but…“

-

"Ah. Well, I won’t pry. Didn’t intend to put you on the spot there. Sorry.”

-

J.C. gave him a small smile, “It’s no big deal. You ever want to know, I’m open for questions.”

-

“I’m not really sure if I’ll ever see you again, so I may as well ask,” he shrugged.

“Weeelllllll,” Audrey started.

-

J.C.’s eyes darted over to Audrey, before looking back to Edward. “Ummm….”

-

Edward raised a brow, awaiting an explanation.

“I went ahead and got J.C.’s e-mail address so I could send him pictures of Lola and Daisy to show to Syd and Kat,” Audrey said with a smile. “Don’t know if we’ll talk much outside of that, but I figured that counted as keeping contact,” she shrugged. - “P-pretty much, yeah.” J.C. confirmed, “What with being abroad and all. Can’t really come rushing over every time the sibs want to see Lola, y'know?”

-

“Oh. Makes sense,” Edward nodded, not too on edge yet. Seemed innocent enough.

-

“I mean, teeeeechnically we could…” Syd suggested.

Roger laughed, “Oh really? How do you plan on raising money to do so, eh?”

Syd stayed silent for a moment before giving an answer. “…I’ll figure something out.”

-

Audrey snickered.

“I couldn’t afford that and I have a job.” - “…Theeeeen I’ll find a way that makes a lot of money.”

-

“Will you let me in on it?” Audrey asked.

-

Syd steepled her fingers and leaned back slightly. “Perhaps. Once I find it, of course.”

-

“… Please do so legally.”

-

Syd made a facial expression, silently conveying something along the lines of “Dang it…”.

“Eh, I can start with a lemonade stand, I guess…”

-

“I think you need a permit for that now, or something, unfortunately,” Audrey frowned. “So dumb.”

-

“A piece of paper that says 'I can do whatever I want’ and has your signature on it doesn’t count, either.” J.C. added.

“Dang it!”

-

Edward inhaled, about to speak, but Audrey cut him off.

“If you go into an in-depth explanation as to why, I can’t guarantee we’ll all stay awake.”

-

J.C. had to hold back a snicker.

-

“…Sometimes I wonder if we’re related. Then I look at your mother,” he proceeded to look left and right. “But she’s not here right now, so I don’t know.”

Audrey snickered.

-

“That’s what we say about Syd sometimes,” Kat piped up, “And we look to Mum, too. Similar personalities.”

Syd scoffed, “I’m waaaaay more tame than Mum was when she was my age. Or so I’ve been told.”

-

“Audrey’s pretty much a dead ringer for her mother at that age… but with more muscle.”

“And less hair,” Audrey added. - Roger chuckled, “Charlotte had pigtails at…well, at least at Kat’s age.  I think she had them when she was as old as Syd, as well.”

“Only real differences are that she’s blonde, and that I’ve never accidently set a building on fire.” Syd added. She paused, thinking how off that statement sounded. “It’s….not as bad as it sounds. She tells the story better than I do.”

-

Edward’s eyebrows shot up at this, as did Audrey’s.

Before they could question farther, however, their food arrive.

“Oo, yay~ You guys get to have your first Coney!” Audrey exclaimed.

-

Syd and Kat stared at the size of the food, trying to figure out how exactly they were going to get it in their mouths. That was one big hot dog…

“So do we just like….go for it?” The redhead asked, “Aim for the mouth and hope for the best?”

-

Audrey snorted. “Basically.”

She and Edward both picked up their own coneys and took a bite. How did they do it? Very carefully.

-

J.C and Roger followed suit while the sisters observed and tried to mimic what they were doing. Kat ended up getting mostly meat sauce on her first go, but it still managed to garner a smile from the girl.

Syd’s expression was a little more telling. It was a bit more extreme, as if she had just tasted the best thing in the world. She said nothing, as meat sauce started to drip down her face.

-

Audrey snickered at Syd and took another bite. “Good, right?”

-

The child slowly nodded.

“Don’t go all 'wild animal’ on us now.” J.C. spoke up, wiping a bit of sauce from his own face. “If there wasn’t as much in the way of sauce and whatnot on there, I’d say go for it, but I don’t think everyone else around us would appreciate getting covered in food.

Syd merely responded with a dazed "Uh-huuuuuh” and went back to chowing down.

-

Audrey giggled. “Agreed. Though there are worse things to be covered in than coney dog.”

-

“Like ink from a pen that exploded on you, I suppose.” Roger piped up.

“Or mud.” Kat added.

“Aw, c'mon, being covered in mud’s kinda fun!” Syd, briefly snapping out of her coney daze, spoke up. “Besides, people use it for, like,  beautifying themselves sometimes. Like on spa days, not just after a rainstorm.”

“They do noooot…” the small blonde scoffed.

-

“Well, yes and no,” Audrey clarified. “Mud masks are a thing, but it’s not just plain old mud from the ground.  It’s like, a special kind of mud mixed with special oils and stuff.”

-

“What about mud baths, then?” Syd asked.

-

“I think it’s the same basic idea.”

-

“Mmm. So there goes another money-making idea, then.” The redhead took a bite of her dog, “I was gonna dig a hole, fill it with mud, and use that as a space for people to take a mud bath in. Find some oils and put those in as well…”

-

“If only it was that simple…”

-

“I don’t think you should be worrying too much about money.” J.C. noted, “Childhood’s meant more for worrying about…heck, I don’t know, finding out what happens in the next episode of your favorite cartoon. Or whatever sort of drama will unfold between your dolls the next time you play pretend with them.”

Syd scoffed, “But you need money to buy and do things, ya dingbat.”

“Thaaaat’s…where saving up your allowance comes in.” he shrugged.

“Or having someone pay for something for you.” the younger sister gave him a cheeky smile, “And give them an IOU, of course.”

-

Audrey snickered.

“Yeah. That’s what childhood should be, even if it isn’t always like that. People always act as though childhood has no downsides. It can be stressful, I know. But it certainly has its perks.”

-

“I mean, adulthood kinda has its perks too…you get to drive, stay up late, and even do biscuits for breakfast if you’re so inclined.” Syd mused, “Buuuuuuuuut you do have a point… I think.”

-

“Adults have to pay taxes,” Edward replied dryly, causing Audrey to snicker.

-

“…So do kids.” the redhead responded, “You’ve never heard of the 'sibling tax’? Or the 'Halloween candy’ tax?”

-

Audrey looked confused. “…I’m an only child and so is my dad, so, no.”

-

“The 'Halloween candy’ one isn’t even really a tax,” J.C. spoke up, “she gives up the candy that she doesn’t like and gives it to me , Dad, and Mum”

“But I was still the one who went out and got it, so it’s still kind of a tax.” Syd argued.

“The sibling one is when your brother or sister gets you a snack or somethin’ when they go out to a convenience store, and they take a small bit.” Kat added. “Like a few Smarties out of a pack, or a sip of a slushie.”

-

“Ohhhh,” Audrey nodded. “That makes sense.”

-

“Plus side is is that it rarely rises.” the little blonde continued, “For example, Syd usually takes five of my Smarties; no more, no less. Even though there’s a lot that comes in a tube.”

“Well, that’s 'cos they’re /yours/ so obviously, you get the most.” Syd shrugged, “Basic economics.”

-

“She has a point,” she shrugged.

-

Syd smirked. See? Audrey got it.

“Since when has this been a thing?” Roger asked, “I don’t remember ever doing that with my siblings.”

“It’s fairly recent.” Kat answered, “ 'Sides, I guess it’s kind of a good thing, what with you bein’ the youngest out of yours an’ all. Your siblings and mine are different in terms of personality.”

“Oh jeez, can you imagine Mum?” Syd chuckled, “She’d have 5 other people that could tax 'er!”

-

“I thought they could only tax you if they helped get you something? Otherwise, I think it’s just called sharing.”

-

“Either way.” Syd shrugged, “Bein’ an only child has its perks, I imagine.”

Kat looked over to her sister, appearing offended and assuming that that’s what Syd preferred.  The redhead looked to her sister and gave her a playful nudge, one that nonverbally said something like “Hey, you’re alright; I tolerate ya”.

“It does get kinda lonely, though.” J.C. piped up, “I was one for thirteen years.”

-

“I’ve always been an only child. I did have my cousins to keep me company though. Them and the kids we’d babysit,” Audrey remarked.

“I was more focused on my studies than socializing,” Edward admitted.

-

“I tried to be,” Roger admitted, “But that can be a bit difficult when you’re needed either as goalie for your older brother’s football game or brought to tea with Mumsy and other school officials.”

Syd had to hold back a laugh. Ha! “Mumsy”. Who called their mother that, nowadays!? That sounded so old-fashioned.

-

“You shouldn’t be envious,” Edward commented a bit quietly.

-

Roger raised an eyebrow, “I mean, I’m not exactly complaining. Could’ve settled for not having a football to the face and a black eye or some other bruise with most games, but…”

-

The only response he got was a light grunt. “Mm.”

“Sooo,” Audrey started, hoping to change the subject, “you want to order some rice pudding?”

-

Ooof, sounds like he was hitting a rough subject. Best not to push it. Thank goodness for Audrey and the rice pudding suggestion. “Uuuum, sure! Yes, let’s, ah…let’s try some of that!”

-

Audrey smiled and nodded, motioning for their server.

-

Syd looked to Edward, “Iiiif it’s any consolation, she’s a real 'witch with a capital B’ now. I really don’t like 'er.” Not sure if that helped, but…

Kat, noticing the change in the other father’s attitude, became quiet again.

-

Edward looked thoroughly confused. “Who?”

-

“Dad’s mum. 'Mumsy’, as 'e calls her.” Syd clarified. “She’s usually nice to him, but she’s mean to a lot of other people.”

-

“Oh. Not sure why that would be consolation, but, alright,” he shrugged.

-

Syd shrugged as well.

Kat, meanwhile, continued cautiously watching.

-

After a moment of silence, Edward felt eyes on him and looked over to Kat.

Was she scared of him still?

Can’t have that.

He briefly stuck his tongue out and pulled it back in, looking not unlike a snake.

-

Wait a sec.

Kind of scary guy?

Making silly faces?

That was pretty ridiculous. Silly, even.

The little blonde smiled slightly, giggling a bit at the display.

-

“Hm?” Audrey looked over to Kat, then to her father, who looked as serious as ever.

-

“What’s so funny, shorty?” Syd asked.

“Noooothin’.” the younger sibling responded, trying to control her giggles.

-

Edward suppressed a smirk. Once the attention was off him again, he crossed his eyes.

-

Cue a slightly bigger smile and more giggles.

-

That’s better~, Edward thought to himself, believing that to be enough to calm her down.

The server soon came with their rice pudding.

Knowing the kids were a little unsure of the new dessert, Audrey took the first bite, making sure to look quite pleased with the flavor.

-

Like a group of little scientists, Syd and Kat watched closely to make sure that nothing adverse happened. Looked as if Audrey liked it…soooo if she wasn’t immediately spitting it back out, then it had to be good, right?

Only one way to find out…

After a bit of deliberation between the two, Syd was the first to try the new dessert. Her expression had a couple of flashes of confusion (because of the texture), but was still overwhelmingly positive, indicated by the “Mmm!” she emitted.

-

Audrey did her best not to laugh at their cautiousness. She smiled as she continued eating. “Told ya.”

-

Kat looked to Syd for confirmation.

“Ish guuuuuuuuh, Kad” she responded, mouth full of pudding.

Slowly, Kat took a small bit of pudding and placed it in her mouth. Her reactions were a bit similar to her sister’s but they seemed to be pretty positive as well.

-

Audrey giggled. “So, what do you two think?” she asked J.C. and Roger.

-

Roger nodded, “It’s different, but I must say, it does have a delightful taste.”

J.C., meanwhile, was about halfway done with his. Must’ve been that good.

-

Audrey snorted when she looked over at J.C. before covering her mouth and nose.

-

J.C. looked up, a bit of pudding on his nose, wondering what Audrey was laughing at.

Roger couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “Uuuum, son? You’ve got a bit of…”

J.C. looked down at the little blob on his nose, chuckled awkwardly, and used a napkin to get it off.

-

“You sure you want to be so blunt about it? I mean, you were a little… on the nose,” she snickered, as did her father.

-

“I guess you could say that all that stuff on your face made you look a little…off-pudding.” Roger added. Cue an “Oh god, dad jokes” sort of groan from Kat and Syd.

-

“How dair-y say that?” Edward jumped in.

-

J.C. couldn’t help but laugh; he always appreciated a good dad joke.

-

Audrey tittered as she took another bite. “I’m out. Anyone have any puns left?”

-

“Aw, already? I thought those were some pretty rice puns we had going.” Kat piped up.

-

Audrey snickered. “You sure like to go with the grain, don’t you?”

-

“I’m surrounded by nerds…” Syd said, shaking her head.

“That’s pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” J.C. asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

“…You’ve still got a bit of pudding on your face, y'know.” she said, smirking back. “Might want to get another napkin and dab it off.”

-

“Dab it off?” Audrey proceeded to do the 'dab’ movement with one arm out and her face in the crook of her other arm.

“I don’t see how this will help.”

-

At that moment, Syd and Kat immediately lost it, collapsing into a fit of laughter (and some pudding dribbling down their chins). J.C. snickered at their reaction.

Roger, however…was confused.

-

Edward felt the same.

Audrey chuckled, looking at J.C. “Should we tell them?”

-

“One of these days, maybe.” J.C. snickered.

-

“If only we were still kids. We could use this as leverage.”

-

“Truuuuue.”

-

“Oh well. Maybe Syd and Kat can.”

-

“…Once they stop laughing, of course.”

“Why are they laughing, anyway?” Roger asked.

“Sorry, Dad, it’s top secret. Those of a certain age are only privy to it.” Syd answered, still trying to calm down.

-

“Ya hear that, Dad? No old people allowed.”

“I have baby pictures in my wallet,” Edward retorted.

“I’ll shut up now.”

-

“Oooohoo, the baby picture threat. Things are getting serious.” J.C. snickered.

“I have yours, too, you know.” Roger added, looking to his son and raising an eyebrow.

J.C. slunk down slightly.

-

“And I used to think you were cool,” Audrey jokingly told her dad.

-

“He’s kinda funny, I’ll give him that…” Kat said, giggling.

-

“Only kinda?” he grinned, his large front teeth quite visible.

-

Kat laughed, “Okay, maybe more than kinda….”

-

“You should see him do the bunny face,” Audrey smirked.

“I still have your baby pictures,” he narrowed his eyes.

-

Kat gasped. “Bunnies?? I like bunnies!”

-

Edward glared at Audrey, knowing he had to do it now.

He let out a sigh before looking around to see who all could see him do this.

Upon deeming the coast clear, he wiggled his nose, then chattered his teeth.

-

Kat giggled, clapped her hands, and bounced up and down happily.

-

Audrey snickered and her father smiled slightly, still embarrassed, but pleased with the blonde’s reaction.

-

“How come YOU can’t do a bunny face?” Kat asked her father.

“I can do those really funny voices when you want a bedtime story,” Roger offered, feigning hurt “Does that not count for anything?”

“It does, it does!” Kat reassured.

-

“Because not everyone can be graced with my freakish rabbit teeth,” Edward commented.

“Dad,” Audrey started sternly, “don’t make me call mom to ramble about how cute your teeth are.”

[greekowl87]

Fic: Sea Glass Pt 2

Part one is here.

A/N: So I wrote a part two. Still not filled with confidence with this but I wanted to give it some more resolution. Anyways, enjoy.

Disclaimer: Own nothing. Just borrowing.

Maybe she had been wrong about keeping him at arm’s length for the past month and shutting him out completely. The few other times she had done it to him had ended in disaster but they always found a way back together. But this time, Scully had come dangerously close to losing him forever. Her pride and nature to keep problems inward had almost cost her Mulder. They had spent the morning after Christmas on the deck, huddled together against the cold, watching the angry Atlantic churn, quietly affirming their vows to one another.

Do you believe in extraterrestrials? No, but I believe in you.

It took them a long time to detangle themselves from one another. Only when Mulder whispered about something losing feeling in his butt that she scooted off his lap. She waited for him to get up, stretch his legs, wincing as the blood rushed downwards into his cold limbs. And just like always, to her silent delight, his hand found its spot on the small of her back, as he guided them back inside.

“Mulder,” she called softly, feeling smaller than she actually was. It didn’t help that the coat she had grabbed swallowed her or that her pride was in significantly smaller. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He took off her jacket and then his, hanging them up by the door. His cold hands rubbed her arms up and down gently to generate some warmth for her. She shifted uncomfortably and lowered her gaze, closing her eyes and feeling the start of tears. He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “We’re all right, Scully,” he said softly. He pushed back the new red strands of hair. “I like your new hair color.”

“Did you pick it on purpose?”

He nodded slightly. “I wasn’t a profiler all those years for nothing. And besides, every now and then I can read you.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded gently to the living room. “Why don’t you go sit down in the living room and I’ll make you some tea, hm?”

“Mulder,” she called, before leaving.

“Yes, Scully?”

“You’ll be coming to bed tonight, right?”

Truth be told, she hated sleeping by herself. She had grown accustomed to his presence when they took their relationship to the next level in what seemed like a life time ago. All those months on the run, Mulder’s presence was one of the few things she could depend on when her nightmares woke her in the middle of the night. He was always there to soothe the darkness away. Since they arrived at the beach house, she had barely slept. Too afraid to go to him, they continued to sleep in separate rooms until her emotions won her over earlier that afternoon.

“If you’ll have me, Scully. You know that is not a question.”

She nodded quickly and disappeared into the living room without another word. Scully sat on the couch and gathered one of the random blankets resting on the couch and pulled it towards her. She watched him gather a tea pot and a box of tea and set it on the stove top. “Are you hungry? I was thinking I could drive down and find a local market for some rockfish. Would you like that?”

“Rockfish?” she arched an eyebrow.

“Striped bass,” he corrected. “I learned to cook it on the Vineyard. I have a really good recipe for baked rockfish. We could make mashed potatoes and a salad with it. I did buy that stuff at the store before we came.”

“You buy vegetables?”

“Well, don’t go around telling people,” he teased. He took the tea kettle off the burner and poured it into a large mug with the Cape Hatteras light house on it. He steeped the green tea bag and carried it carefully into the living room. “Here you go, Scully.”

She took it gratefully as he sat down next to her. The mug warmed her hands and he straightened out the blanket covering her. She looked down into the mug and back to him. “How can you look at me after the way I treated you?” she whispered.

“Well, I haven’t been exactly perfect either,” he remarked, thinking back to all their years of partnership. “I ask myself every morning how I got so lucky to have you in my life.”

“Now you’re just being a hopeless romantic,” she teased.

“Did you know I was almost an English minor at Oxford? I can recite Byron and Shakespeare like the back of my hand.” She arched an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips. “Well, I took a class in Romanticism to impress a girl.”

“Did it work?”

“You tell me.” He smiled. She rolled her eyes and chuckled lightly. God, he had missed her laugh. He straightened the blanket a bit more and handed her the tv remote. He kissed her soundly. “I’m going to get us dinner. You relax in the mean time.”

“Mulder? Be careful.”

He gave her a warm smile before grabbing the car keys and his phone and heading out. Scully looked down a warm tea in her hands and back out at the window, beyond the sand dunes, and to the sea. Why had she shut him out, to begin with? She sipped the tea and turned on the television. She relaxed for the first time in forever, letting sleep eventually take her as the tv droned on in the background.

… .

She dreamed of William, Mulder, and herself. What if he had not left? What if she had not given him up? What if they lived a normal life? Just like they had always talked about? The nightmare was a familiar one. What started out as perfect and ideal always became a nightmare as Mulder was still dead and the nameless men took William from her, every time. And she was powerless to stop it. She would wake up screaming, tears in her eyes. Some nights were better than others. But this particular nightmare was particularly worse.

She came out of the nightmare as she felt someone gently shaking her. “Scully,” someone called gently. “Scully, wake up. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.”

Her eyes opened blearily and she saw Mulder kneeling over her. She snaked her arms around his neck wordlessly and buried her face in his shoulder. He pulled her into his lap and rubbed her back soothingly. While Scully was normally very conservative when it came to displays of emotion, her breaking her walls of silence had set something off in her and Mulder sensed it. Her tears slowed and she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“The nightmares,” she said. “It’s always the same one. Every single time.”

“You’re fine,” he whispered. “We’re okay.”

She nodded against him. How did she manage a month of the silent treatment and keeping everything inwards again? She took a deep breath and pulled back. “What time is it?”

“Dinner time,” he said softly. “Are you hungry? I made a lot.”

She nodded wordlessly. “It smells good.”

… .

Scully lay in the master bed, the lamp on the night stand dimly lighting her novel that she held. Except she wasn’t reading. Not really. She had read the same page over and over at least three times. She was beginning to worry if he was actually coming to bed. The day had started off incredibly rough and her walls crumbled, she sought him out, and something happened between them. Things changed. They were able to reconnect.

But did they? She shifted in the large bed, noting that he had not brought his bags in with hers. Where was he for that matter? After they ate a pleasant dinner, they settled on the couch and watched a Lifetime movie together. Mulder held her as they poked fun at the corny nature of it. He then promised to meet her in bed after he took a shower.

But he had not come. In fact, Scully was not even sure she heard the shower running. Quietly, she got out of bed. She wished she still had her robe but she had lost it at some motel in Utah months ago. She instead pulled an overly large sweat-shirt that had ‘Charleston, SC’ stitched on it. She pulled it close, wrapping her arms around herself. She wandered the foreign halls gently, pushing a lose strand of hair from her face.

“Mulder,” she called softly. Silence. “Mulder?”

“Out here, Scully,” he called softly.

She frowned, seeing him standing on the deck. She picked the blanket up from the couch and wrapped around herself again. She stepped out onto the deck and saw him wearing his jacket. He opened his arm and drew her against his chest. She smiled slightly as he wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her against his chest. He nuzzled her neck. “Sorry, Scully,” he said softly. “I just needed to take a moment and look at this sky.”

She followed his gaze upwards. “Oh wow.”

“Do you know why I picked this place?” he whispered. He rocked them slowly back and forth. “Because we needed to go back to basics. This place doesn’t look too bad considering Isabel rolled through here. The island gets battered but they rebuild. Besides, it’s quiet. We can have our privacy which I know you want. We can be us and not have to worry about any coming after us. A tourist town in the dead of winter, I think we could be safe, don’t you? Even just for a bit.”

“You were always bad with metaphors,” she whispered. “So we rebuild?”

“Well, reconnect. I will confess I could not stand another day without you talking to me. I ask myself every moment of every day how I got so lucky with you,” he whispered in her ear. “You saved me. You believed in me when no one else did. And I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

He rubbed her arms gently. “I really do like it out here,” she whispered. “The sea…”

“I know one way to your heart at least,” he teased. She felt his traveling hands. “And I know many others too.”

She giggled slightly. “Not. Out. Here. Besides, it is too cold, Mulder.”

“Let’s go inside,” he whispered. He kissed “I have something I want to give you. Well, two somethings.”

She shook her head and pulled on his hand. “Let’s go to bed, Mulder.”

He nodded gently as she led them to the master bedroom. Mulder smiled and went into the master bathroom suite to get ready. She took off her sweat shirt and threw it in a corner. He emerged a few minutes later wearing a soft gray tee shirt and black sleeping pants. They stared at each other after slipping beneath the blankets.

“Say it, Scully.”

“I feel like an old married couple,” she admitted with a small smile.

“It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it?”

“It’s nice knowing I still have you, Mulder.”

“You never lost me either, Scully.” Mulder pulled her against him and she sighed contently. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. She arched an eyebrow, looking up at him questioningly. “Merry Christmas, Scully.”

She took the bag and took out a beautiful bracelet covered in various pieces of sea glass. It was not her normal style. More than anything, the bracelet reminded Scully of Melissa. But it is also reminded her of Mulder. She fingered the small pieces of sea glass. “It’s…” she sighed and smiled. “It’s lovely.”

“They had this little card that was with it. Apparently, sea glass is formed with some amazing reactions chemically and physically over a long period of time. The end result is these beautiful pieces.” She was not stupid. She knew the underlying message that he was telling her. “Do you like them?”

“Maybe you should have been a poet instead of a psychologist.”

“What about a bard? Like Shakespeare? I already got a good start on the beard.” He nuzzled her with stubbled chin and she laughed childishly. “And you know from experience I can be very dramatic in faking my death and actually dying.” Her laughter died quietly. Mulder frowned and rubbed her arms. “What is it?”

“That’s part of my nightmare,” she whispered. She looked up into his eyes. “It always begins as if everything could have been perfect, what should have been. But then they kill you, the faceless men who took me take William. There is nothing I can do.”

“Scully, you did the right thing.”

“Did I, Mulder?”

He pressed another kiss to her temple. “Stop it, Scully. Beating yourself up over it won’t help anything. We both know that. As for me,” he sighed and repeated her own words, “I have no intention of going anywhere, Scully. I promise I’m not leaving again. Not now, not ever.”

She nodded against his chest. Mulder slid them down under the covers. She placed the sea glass bracelet on the nightstand and snaked her arm across her chest like she had been doing all day. She felt safe. “Hm. You’re warm tonight.” She kissed his neck and then rested her ear over his heart. She closed her eyes, listening to his heart, the waves pounding the shore outside. “Tell me a story, Mulder.”

He rubbed her back lovingly. “About what?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t Blackbeard die out here or something?”

“Yes, in Ocacroake.” Mulder was silent. “What about a story about us? Would you like that?” She hitched a breath. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s talk about the future. After this. Like we’ll find a little house out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing crazy but somewhere where we can build a home together. You would go back to medicine. Maybe you stick with pathology or maybe you do something completely different.”

“What about you,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Me? Oh, I’d imagine I would be a good house wife. Learn to cook, massage your feet, worship everything you do,” he said softly.

She made a content sleepy sound and Mulder continued to spin his tale for Scully. She finally drifted off to sleep. The last things she was aware of was his heart, his arms around her, the waves, and his drawling voice, the same one he used to use when he would weave his complex theories. This fragile peace them between was more concrete than ever.

[hannahstocks]

’99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer, take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall’…

Mild hysteria in both our voices, oncoming traffic lights, lighting up the salt streams running down beetroot coloured cheeks, eyes squeezed together so tightly, with a force in her lungs to be reckoned with.

I’d had a bad feeling about the first camp spot, ‘something just doesn’t feel right’ as I screwed up my face apologetically.  There was something about camping next to a heavily logged area of forest which gave me a sad sunken feeling, a graveyard for trees made me draw a little deeper for air, knotting in my stomach. The fast flowing river on the other side of us juxtaposed the feeling of sadness with life and vitality and an eagerness to swim, but we pushed on, with a slightly passive aggressive tone floating around the van and a groan for dinner in our bellies.

My gut feeling pushed our eta a little later than we’d hoped, most of all, for the little beetroot faced girl sitting in between us.

I had worried a little before departure, we’d traveled in the van so many times before, longer and farther distances.  I was longing for the simple life, basic routines, outdoors even when you’re in doors with the selfish flexibility to stay or go, to see where the wind would blow.  

We were quickly realising that we needed to slow down, rushing from one spot to another was not conducive to a 6 month old, nor conducive to our own level of sanity and it felt good, new perspectives.

The last few nights in the van I had starred out of the window and into the stillness of the night, darkness laden with stars, temperatures dropping, my back covered in goosebumps, wedged against the cold metal of the barn door, with one slightly chilly boob exposed and a hungry little girl attached.  

How life had changed.

Having to get ‘nowhere quickly’ was starting to create a new perspective, a shift in mindset enabling the appreciation of those seemingly mundane moments. Finding something quite methodical and beautiful about piling our bags on the front seat ready for bed, washing up in stream water, putting the bed away and making the bed at night, tag teaming to go to the toilet or brushing our teeth. Feeding into the early hours.

Those first few days, the weather proved favourable for us, gifting us with blue skies and the kind of warmth that feels like you really deserved it, small pockets of Autumnal grace warming the parts of us exposed and making those cold water dips that little more bearable.

The Lake District proved to be some of the coldest water we’ve both swam in yet, painful, stabbing all over our bodies, stealing our breath as we submerged into the most beautifully emerald water, crystal clear. Each of us looking on as the other floats down the river, navigating rocks and mini rapids. A little part of us enjoying the others discomfort along with a sense of camaraderie.  Taking turns, now a necessity.

Have you ever seen a horny Bull? Weird question maybe, but when one sets its sights or its smell on a field of unassuming cows, you soon learn that fences just don’t exist, merely a slight  obstacle, a nuisance if you will and you want to be as far away as you possibly can.

Sheets of glass welcomed us that evening, with that Autumnal late afternoon light, casting favourable sun flares and romanic feelings, I think we even held hands at one point. It was the light to give those van legs a resurgence of energy.

No matter how many times we’ve thrown a ball for Dillon and watched him launch, with pure joy into the water, each time it seems like the first time, somehow still elated by the sight of that moment, mid air, all limbs outstretched, anticipation on his little face.  And honestly, a slight jealously stirs inside that you can want something so bad as if it’s the first time you’ve ever had it, time and time again, like a really really good groundhog moment.

Hot dogs with all the trimmings were on the menu that evening, oh and sliced baby fingers.  Note to self, always remember when you’ve opened a can of beer and placed it in arms reach of your baby, she will want to play with it and most probably, start playing it like a singing bowl. The never ending emergence of guilt revealed itself to me with conviction that evening.  A few tears, a little bit of blood and she was fine, I wasn’t.  A play mate for Dillon began to soften the blow as they played well into dusk, dropping the ball onto the van door mat, eyes drilling into us ‘please throw, please throw, please throw’.  People began to congregate and beach fires started to emerge, embers flying straight up and into the windless night.  We would fall asleep to stillness and I’d wake to feed the babe to chilly temperatures, 3 or 4 degrees at most.

The next morning saw a slow relay of running, swimming and stretching, James held out the baton and it was my turn.  Pausing on the shoreline, bikini clad at the start of the Caledonian canal, water running down my goose pimpled skin, enjoying the surge of heat glowing through my body from the mix of salt and fresh water.  Each rock on the bottom as clear as looking through glass.

Just towards the fields behind the van, we watched a bull, come out from no where and start charging the length of 4 football pitches, barbed wire fences separating each field.  He’d become entangled in each fence and momentarily be stuck, bucking his legs. James and I looked at each other like ‘what do we do?!’ And then he’d kick his way free and onto the next, same scenario, before bulldozing the last fence, straight through and into the woodland and up into the field of grazing cows, blissfully unaware of what was about to hit them.  It amazed us, that sheer one tracked focus, the brutal strength and discard for anything in his way.

Further North and well into Scotland, the good weather came and went and as a good friend recently said, no family holiday would be complete without a couple of nights in a static caravan. We watched low tide turn to high from inside the warmth and through the rain drenched window, the side rain now relentlessly beating down, wind so strong the sides shaking. Normally I would have felt like we were cheating on the van, but honestly, I couldn’t have been happier sat watching the weather, inside and dry.

The caravan sat on the far east of the peninsula, unspoilt and wild, stretching out into the Atlantic Ocean, a single track road leading to the most westerly point on the Great British mainland. 

There was no rush, nowhere to be, no waves to chase. 

The weather cleared, patches of sunshine with rain, rainbows decorating the sky.  

We made the slow way west, the sound of cameras clicking as we inspected the sun kissed ever changing landscapes; enchanted woodland into open pastures, tucked away bays and mountainous passes; taking it in turn to dash from the van, catching precious moments in between showers.  Sometimes, just staring out, cameras down, impossible to capture.  

Castles at low tide, friends with nordic cabins looking out over hills rolling into lochs with mountains lacing the edges, unsuccessful fishing spots revealing hidden bays for swimming and the babe taking her first ever picture, first of many I’m sure. 

We’d been keeping an eye on the weather chart, heavy rain and strong winds on the forecast. Hopping on the ferry we headed north and into the eye of the storm.  Sunshine joined us over the short and relatively smooth crossing, although it doesn’t take much for me to seek out somewhere to lie down, breathing the fresh air in deeply, wooziness on the horizon.

The wind continued to increase throughout the day as we pulled up to our camp spot, positioning the van with what felt like a million micro adjustments to save ourselves from the soon becoming Gail force head winds.  

Watching on, hikers pitched single man tents on the grass in the most exposed of areas which unfortunately just happened to be the flattest.  The swell in the bay was small but what there was of it was boasting white caps, foam blowing onto the shingle and across the bay.

I thought a lot about those hikers over the duration of our short stay.  They were in for a rough night, thats for sure, struggling to erect their tents in the first place, sides bowing into themselves and away from the oncoming wind, no doubt pressing up against them and their kit, now sheltering inside. Condensation building.  They would fall asleep to torrential rain and wake up to it, relentless, no break.  But I envied them.  And not because I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was, but because I know that feeling, the rollercoaster of feelings which come from doing something physical and getting completely drenched, feeling uncomfortable, tired, irritable and ravenous but so full of satisfaction and overwhelming joy that its been anything but a fair weather experience, instead, a full on adventure.  I imagined them finding a pub a couple of days later when their hike was over, pint in hand, hearty meal on the table, cheeks rosy with that immediate fuzzy feeling, contented satisfaction. 

Maybe I’m just a romantic though.  

Maybe they all hated every second.

Walking up the rough track, we gazed out towards the dominant cliffs and across the bay, waterfalls scattered in the hills, watching the weather as it crept in visible sheets across the sky; most of the hikers tucked up inside their canvas sheets, a couple still frantically tying down guy ropes.

‘I think it’s gonna skirt across and miss us’, he says hopefully.  Looking towards the looming sky, I didn't share his optimism. But we kept walking upwards, stretching our legs, tripping over lose rocks, struggling a little with fatigue and the extra weight strapped to me in her pile fleece onesie.

There is always the need to move, in life, in general but no more than when we’re on the road.  So much sitting and snacking, the body gets restless and the mind starts to irritate and there’s only so much van chair yoga before you start to feel the opposite effects.

And so it begins, that piercing side rain that was ‘definitely’ going to miss us. Oh it hurts and it’s so wet, the kind of rain that soaks you instantly, no rain jacket, just a fleece, absorbing all the moisture, jeans sticky and heavy, arms wrapped around the little warm parcel strapped to me, asleep, oblivious.  

The wetness would continue into the night and all of the next day too, completely relentless.

It was a full moon, we were trapped inside the van, tensions were high and there were almost tears over spilt gnocchi.

Luckily we’re still married.

Just.

The problem with being a Pisces is making decisions.  Hard enough with one pisces.  Even harder with two.  We sat in a lay by eating sandwiches, refreshing the iPhone and what the weather was predicting for the next week.  It looked bleak for where we were and there was a pull for sunshine and waves in Ireland, but an even bigger niggle in my belly that we hadn’t even scratched the surface of Scotland, the thought of leaving without further exploration left me feeling a little empty. Plus, how often is the weather right anyway?

And so we made the decision (after five long hours) to keep heading North, further exploring the wonder of the west.

“ROAD CLOSED”.

‘You’re fucking kidding?!’

This wasn’t your usual road closure, this was the kind of road closure which had you driving from the west coast to the east, driving North and then back West again.  What should have been an hour journey, turned into four.  

In the dullness of the fading light, the massive mountains sprouted up from the earth and engulfed us, dwarfing our van and the road we drove along through the nature reserve, waterfalls in mountain sides, precarious sheep teetering on the edge, green everywhere with rock walls lining the way and running off in all directions, at all different elevations across the face.

It was still raining when we found our camp spot, but it was irrelevant.

Our van sat off the quiet road on a small patch of grass with rocks flowing from the sliding door and down into the loch, the tide was high and the sound of mini lapping waves was delicious. The air breathed purity down into our lungs and the anticipation for a swim the next day gave us bursts of excitement each time we ventured for a nature wee.  This trip was quickly becoming the ‘cold water swimming holiday’ and I couldn’t have been happier about it.

Im learning that life, now more than ever, runs in stages, a bad stage feels endless, whilst a good stage is laced with anxiety knowing that it wont last. We had a sleeper, we didn’t even realise how lucky we were but we’d keep quiet when others would talk about multiple wake ups and multiple feeds, didn’t want to jinx it.  We were slowly starting to join the latter stage.

Those early feeds in the vans were also presenting me with a sneaky peak into a very special time of day/night, nobody around, just the two of us awake with wildlife right outside the door venturing closer for inspection, feeding, wandering.  Deer right outside the van, owls hooting, foxes scurrying and those stars, on a clear night, are enough to send you into a dream like state no matter how awake or tired you feel.  So much is happening when we’re sleeping.

A beautiful sunny scenic walk would prove too much for our little girl, icy winds, streaming eyes, goose pimples and mini baby shivers, with the undertone of ‘we pushed it too far’, slight stress in each wobbly step back down to the van.  While there were still snores and deep breaths into my chest, slumber and contentment, we gazed around at the beautiful valley, peering over steep cliffs whilst cliff faces in the distance soared up towards the clouds, pools of water decorating the rocky terrain, adding rocks to cairns along the way.  

‘This one’s for Billie’, he proclaims.

We’d reached the part of Scotland I’d been daydreaming about in the lead up to the trip, the part of the country we could have so easily have missed had we made a slightly different decision, back in that lay-by, back in the torrential rain, the day of indecision. 

Floating on my back, the icy water now spilling over my limbs, a sky of grey mist above, jagged rocks below.  The babe strapped to her dad, Dillon at his side somewhere in the hills.  I let my head fall back, ice-cream head threatening to bite, the air still, no-one insight.  I can feel my energy levels going from zero to off the charts with every second, with every deep breath, the sleepless night washed off and a soothing reminder that the water never fails to be the natural compass back to myself.

Next stop.

The emerald Isle.

[billydmacklin]

I Went Away.

A month ago, I took a trip. I’m super duper extra #blessed to come from a family who loves to travel. They aren’t really the types to voluntarily take a long road trip or bop somewhere for a weekend—they like a Big Trip. I grew up with stories like that one time, in 1984, when my grandparents took their three kids and spouses to still-Apartheid South Africa. My father fell extremely ill, so the rest of the family decided to go on safari and leave him and my mother back at the hotel—which sounds fine enough, except that the hotel was really a collection of tents outdoors. Evidently, the wild baboon population had learned to pillage the campsite for food as soon as the tourists left, and so, as the rest of the family watched giraffes graze on acacia trees and lions drink from the watering hole and the beauty of nature unfold before their eyes, my mother sat quivering back at camp, hoping to avoid being torn limb from limb by wild apes. My dad, useless and feverish inside the tent, missed the whole thing. This is just how the Kanters unwind as a group.

So several years ago, my dad got it in his mind that The Next Big Trip would be a relaxing little mid-winter jaunt down to the continent of Antarctica. You know the one, at the bottom of the planet? Where people do not generally go because it’s very hard to get to and very cold and there are no beaches? That’s the one. That’s where I went. It was fucking unreal.

In case you’re curious, here are the basic strokes: we all flew to Santiago, Chile, where we were for a couple of days. Then we flew to Ushuaia, Argentina, which is the southernmost city in the world, and then boarded a ship called Orion. The ship is basically a co-production of National Geographic and a tourism company called Linblad Expeditions, designed to hold about 100 passengers and 60 crew members. They call it an “expedition cruise,” which is essentially their way of describing a situation in which you’re exploring, kind of, while also being very comfortable and having all your needs constantly met. Once boarded and safety-briefed, you begin to sail—a term, I learned, that does not actually require the use of sails to be accurate. You sail for about two days, much of it through an area where the Atlantic and the Pacific collide to form a notoriously rough area of ocean called Drake Passage. A lot of people get seasick. I did not, because I’m better than everyone else.

Once near the Antarctic Peninsula, the waters calm and everything looks insane. Like, am-I-on-a-different-planet-level-insane. Cool blue water and icebergs and crisp allergen-free air and the occasional sea bird trailing the ship. This is where the expedition part of the cruise comes in, because weather changes rapidly and ice conditions are constantly in flux, so the captain and expedition leaders are constantly forming and re-forming an itinerary until the sail back to Ushuaia. While in/around the peninsula, they aim to get you off the boat twice a day for about 3 hours each time (these are the expeditions), and the rest of the time is taken up by eating, sleeping, attending lectures, enjoying the ship’s bar, and sailing to the next place. Sometimes you encounter whales along the way.

Truth be told, I almost never want to hear about other peoples vacations, and this is not a travel blog, so I feel inclined to stop talking about it now. I got to go do an amazing thing. I feel really lucky about it. I wasn’t allowed to touch the animals. I was allowed to touch the ice. I learned a lot, and I love my family.

Altogether, we were away for three weeks. Which went quickly, but still seemed like an insane amount of time to be, like, a grown-up but not responsible for anything. To detach from normal life and experience something so…unlike normal life. So even though it was more physically/mentally involved than, say, 3 weeks on a beach, it did give me some time to just…pause. And think. And take stock.

Get ready, I have a lot of feelings.

I am not a person who naturally does that. I’m more of a busy-body, going about life with an urgency and focus reserved only for whatever is calling out the loudest for attention. Of course, the quieter things don’t just disappear. More often, they fester and grow somewhere just outside my line of sight, lurking off in the periphery.

Maybe this is why taking breaks usually feels stressful for me: it means pausing whatever is currently holding my attention, stepping back, and surveying the bigger picture. It means looking at that stuff in the periphery. Confronting the stuff that’s been flying under the radar. To me, that’s fucking terrifying. Overwhelming. It makes me feel absolutely horrible.

I’m not actually convinced that it needs to be this way, or that it will be forever, but it has for a while. And I’m not just trying to whine—it’s just me, telling you, that I’m recognizing a problem, which in turn effects this blog, and I’m working on it. And maybe some of this rings true for you, too, and maybe we can work on it together.

A few weeks ago on December 31, I was scrolling through a few photos on my iPhone when that “On this Day” feature popped up. I tapped on “On This Day: December 31, 2016”—New Year’s Eve, exactly one year prior. I had taken exactly one photo, of my friend’s front door when we arrived for her New Year’s party. The wreath from Christmas was still hanging up between the panels, and underneath was a black bumper sticker with white text reading, simply, FUCK 2016. I remember walking up to that door, laughing a little, and thinking something along the lines of “amen to that.”

I also remember thinking the same thing about 2015. And maybe 2014, too, although some distance has made it more difficult to pinpoint exactly why. I know I felt that way about 2017, though—in a really big way—which quickly made me concerned that just maybe some of this feeling could be attributed to the common denominator of those years of my life: me.

Well, shit.

2017 was a rough ride. I am so not trying to play Misery Poker here. I’m well aware that there are enormous swaths of the population who have it a whole hell of a lot worse than I do. My life is actually pretty terrific, especially through the lens of blogs and instagrams and whatnot. So let’s dispense with that, for a sec.

I can take you through it, kind of. Donald Trump was sworn in as President of the United States. That sentence alone. What a thing to be playing out, like some sticky fog that’s in and around and over and under everything. It’s such a dark, horrible, oppressive, depressing and inescapable feeling/backdrop/preoccupation/threat. Many of you can probably relate. Some other stuff went awry, too. A big project I thought I’d be developing kind of vanished. Renovation plans I’d made for my house, derailed. Plans I’d made for bluestone cottage, still unfinished. A future opportunity that fell through at the eleventh hour. This other small job I ended up taking that turned unexpectedly large. A project we didn’t get to before the weather turned. The attempt to wean off my anti-depressants (why, Daniel, why?). I over-committed. I got distracted. My dog died. I messed up with my blog. I let people down. I still don’t have a kitchen. Anxiety won.

Avoidance and anxiety go hand in hand, I guess. At least for me they do. I’m attracted to motivational statements like “nothing will make you feel better except doing the work” because I know they’re true and I also know they are counter to how I act when I encounter anxiety. A lifetime of it (and several years of its sleepy, somehow even less fun companion, depression) taught me to avoid anxiety in order to make life more manageable. This is not unanimously a terrible strategy: if snakes make you anxious, avoiding snakes is not such a bad way to live? There are plenty of other valuable things you can spend your time dealing with than the thing that you don’t like. If you never hold a snake, does it really matter?

The strategy becomes intensely problematic when pretty much everything makes you anxious. Like little tiny things and also really big things. Hello, my name is Daniel Kanter. I have not been doing great, thank you for asking. I’m trying to be better.

Take, for instance: this past summer, I started working on a house for a couple of clients. I haven’t talked about it here. I wanted to, but client gigs are fast-paced and draining and don’t leave a lot of time for blogging—that is true. But that doesn’t mean there’s literally no time—I also wasn’t making it. After spending 8 hours a day working on a renovation, it’s difficult to then want to spend several more hours thinking about it, writing about it, editing photos of it…and so I didn’t. I didn’t write about anything else, either. For a few weeks this felt good.

Some handy self-deception quickly took hold. I wasn’t being a lousy blogger, I was just taking a step back from blogging. Because I’ve been blogging for 7+ years and I can take a few weeks if I want to. Nobody would notice, probably. The story I told myself was that I just wanted to focus on the work, without the distraction of a broader group actively commenting on something in progress. I told myself I didn’t want to be influenced by what I thought readers would want or expect to see (which is puzzling, because I don’t really think I am normally? this isn’t an actual concern of mine?) and just focus on doing right by the house and the clients. I told myself that blog readerships create a certain kind of pressure—whether the content-creator is aware of it or not—to keep doing the thing that’s gotten them recognition or did well on Pinterest or whatever in the past. This, I told myself, is why it can seem like a lot of bloggers show a stunning lack of diversity in their creative output, and I did not want to fall into that trap by prioritizing the constant need to be sharing whatever I was doing over just doing the best job I could at the thing that I was doing.

I’m not even saying that these thoughts/feelings/theories are incorrect. But I am recognizing them for what they mostly were: justifications. I was vastly underachieving at something that’s important to me, so I created noble-sounding reasons to avoid feeling that failure-anxiety. That doesn’t work for very long.

And so, the anxiety-avoidance cycle. It’s a self-sustaining system that never fails to compound. I didn’t just not blog. I pretty much pretended that I didn’t even have a blog. Like I didn’t even know what blogs were! I focused on “the work” (of playing contractor for a relatively short-term freelance project), and whenever I thought about writing a blog post, anxiety told me that I’d first have to sign into WordPress, and then I’d be confronted with the comments I’d missed—at this point, there might be somebody asking if I was OK, or dead, or stopped blogging entirely, or accusing me of only posting because of X, Y, or Z, or even just telling me they missed my posts—and any of those things would make me feel worse. So I didn’t look. Instagram became anxiety-provoking, too. Other blogs. E-mail. Texts.

It’s almost like the longer you avoid something, the scarier it becomes. FANCY THAT.

This anxiety-avoidance-anxiety loop told me that all of you must hate me. That I had been letting everyone down, and even if/when I did write a blog post, or even post a picture to instagram, it would be met with anger and resentment for having disappeared, or something. Or something—because as much as I can try to explain the specific fears behind anxiety, it’s never just one thing or one bad outcome. It’s all of them. And then, what do you even do? Like, I can’t not post for a few months and then just come back with some whatever post about whatevers-town. It should be awesome. Creating something that you feel confident will be universally viewed as awesome by a reader that already hates you is, you guessed it, anxiety-provoking primarily because it’s probably impossible. So I kept…not doing it. I actually waited until a blogger friend was in town, handed them my phone, rattled off my password, and asked them to moderate months of missed comments for me. I couldn’t face it. Having given it some thought, that’s…crazy. But it’s kind of how I’ve been about stuff.

When Linus died, I knew I had to tell you. It took me a few weeks. Part of that was because I was very sad, and grieving, and not really in the headspace to sit down and write a eulogy, but another part of it was the anxiety-avoidance thing. The loop that actually had me convinced that even on that post I was likely to receive a barrage of guilt and shame for being a shitty blogger, and I couldn’t deal with it on top of mourning my dead dog. Of course, you didn’t do that.

You never have. If legitimate fears need to be backed up by evidence or past experience, this fear is not legitimate. None of my fears about blogging—or most things that make me anxious, really—are all that legitimate. But that’s not how fears born of anxiety work. They’re not rational but they are persistent. They’re exhausting.

I hate this thing—this anxiety surrounding blogging and you. It’s not just a problem with blogging—it’s a problem in other areas of my life, too, in many cases for longer than this—but blogging? That’s new. I’ve always liked blogging I think because it felt separate from the anxieties of everyday life, like a relief from it, not an addition to it. So this thing where I can’t even sign into WordPress to check comments? It’s extremely unpleasant. And ultimately counter-productive, if the goal is to not feel like shit. Avoiding the thing that’s making me anxious is not helping. It’s making it worse.

In other words, I need to Stop That. Here and elsewhere in my life.

Reflecting on this past year, and the few preceding it, have me feeling a certain urgency to not feel this way in another 12 months. Also 9 months after that, when I’ll be 30. I don’t want to still be in this place, where anxiety still wins and everything feels like it has one or many loose ends to tie. So I’m, like, consciously trying to change my approach to things? I’m trying to take control of this situation. Make it better. It’s not just going to happen.

I want to get back to having fun—with life, with my house, with my work, and with this blog. I miss sharing. Not sharing doesn’t make me feel good; I know this now.

So since I’ve been home, I’ve been trying to get into some new shit. I started going to acupuncture. We’ll see. I made haircut appointments for myself every month for the next year. I did a huge purge of digital clutter and reclaimed 170 gigabytes of hard drive space and avoided the need for a new computer. I’ve been aggressively getting the house in order. I began posting to Instagram again. I started a book club where all we do is indulge our secret fascination with self-help books by reading self-help books (//hoping we get something out of it no lie). I’ve been cooking more of my own food (my makeshift situation would be funny if it hadn’t lasted so long and was therefore so embarrassing/upsetting) and trying to take better care of my body. I’ve been working on creating boundaries at work and trying really hard to stop comparing myself to the success of others. I’ve been making goals and outlining plans and trying to give myself some goddamn tools to succeed. And I’m writing this blog post, and that’s something.

So that’s where I’m at. They’re steps forward. I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying. It’s good to see you.

I hope your 2018 is off to a good start. I’m excited to make this one better.

I Went Away. published first on https://carpetgurus.tumblr.com/

[carygarman980]

I Went Away.

A month ago, I took a trip. I’m super duper extra #blessed to come from a family who loves to travel. They aren’t really the types to voluntarily take a long road trip or bop somewhere for a weekend—they like a Big Trip. I grew up with stories like that one time, in 1984, when my grandparents took their three kids and spouses to still-Apartheid South Africa. My father fell extremely ill, so the rest of the family decided to go on safari and leave him and my mother back at the hotel—which sounds fine enough, except that the hotel was really a collection of tents outdoors. Evidently, the wild baboon population had learned to pillage the campsite for food as soon as the tourists left, and so, as the rest of the family watched giraffes graze on acacia trees and lions drink from the watering hole and the beauty of nature unfold before their eyes, my mother sat quivering back at camp, hoping to avoid being torn limb from limb by wild apes. My dad, useless and feverish inside the tent, missed the whole thing. This is just how the Kanters unwind as a group.

So several years ago, my dad got it in his mind that The Next Big Trip would be a relaxing little mid-winter jaunt down to the continent of Antarctica. You know the one, at the bottom of the planet? Where people do not generally go because it’s very hard to get to and very cold and there are no beaches? That’s the one. That’s where I went. It was fucking unreal.

In case you’re curious, here are the basic strokes: we all flew to Santiago, Chile, where we were for a couple of days. Then we flew to Ushuaia, Argentina, which is the southernmost city in the world, and then boarded a ship called Orion. The ship is basically a co-production of National Geographic and a tourism company called Linblad Expeditions, designed to hold about 100 passengers and 60 crew members. They call it an “expedition cruise,” which is essentially their way of describing a situation in which you’re exploring, kind of, while also being very comfortable and having all your needs constantly met. Once boarded and safety-briefed, you begin to sail—a term, I learned, that does not actually require the use of sails to be accurate. You sail for about two days, much of it through an area where the Atlantic and the Pacific collide to form a notoriously rough area of ocean called Drake Passage. A lot of people get seasick. I did not, because I’m better than everyone else.

Once near the Antarctic Peninsula, the waters calm and everything looks insane. Like, am-I-on-a-different-planet-level-insane. Cool blue water and icebergs and crisp allergen-free air and the occasional sea bird trailing the ship. This is where the expedition part of the cruise comes in, because weather changes rapidly and ice conditions are constantly in flux, so the captain and expedition leaders are constantly forming and re-forming an itinerary until the sail back to Ushuaia. While in/around the peninsula, they aim to get you off the boat twice a day for about 3 hours each time (these are the expeditions), and the rest of the time is taken up by eating, sleeping, attending lectures, enjoying the ship’s bar, and sailing to the next place. Sometimes you encounter whales along the way.

Truth be told, I almost never want to hear about other peoples vacations, and this is not a travel blog, so I feel inclined to stop talking about it now. I got to go do an amazing thing. I feel really lucky about it. I wasn’t allowed to touch the animals. I was allowed to touch the ice. I learned a lot, and I love my family.

Altogether, we were away for three weeks. Which went quickly, but still seemed like an insane amount of time to be, like, a grown-up but not responsible for anything. To detach from normal life and experience something so…unlike normal life. So even though it was more physically/mentally involved than, say, 3 weeks on a beach, it did give me some time to just…pause. And think. And take stock.

Get ready, I have a lot of feelings.

I am not a person who naturally does that. I’m more of a busy-body, going about life with an urgency and focus reserved only for whatever is calling out the loudest for attention. Of course, the quieter things don’t just disappear. More often, they fester and grow somewhere just outside my line of sight, lurking off in the periphery.

Maybe this is why taking breaks usually feels stressful for me: it means pausing whatever is currently holding my attention, stepping back, and surveying the bigger picture. It means looking at that stuff in the periphery. Confronting the stuff that’s been flying under the radar. To me, that’s fucking terrifying. Overwhelming. It makes me feel absolutely horrible.

I’m not actually convinced that it needs to be this way, or that it will be forever, but it has for a while. And I’m not just trying to whine—it’s just me, telling you, that I’m recognizing a problem, which in turn effects this blog, and I’m working on it. And maybe some of this rings true for you, too, and maybe we can work on it together.

A few weeks ago on December 31, I was scrolling through a few photos on my iPhone when that “On this Day” feature popped up. I tapped on “On This Day: December 31, 2016”—New Year’s Eve, exactly one year prior. I had taken exactly one photo, of my friend’s front door when we arrived for her New Year’s party. The wreath from Christmas was still hanging up between the panels, and underneath was a black bumper sticker with white text reading, simply, FUCK 2016. I remember walking up to that door, laughing a little, and thinking something along the lines of “amen to that.”

I also remember thinking the same thing about 2015. And maybe 2014, too, although some distance has made it more difficult to pinpoint exactly why. I know I felt that way about 2017, though—in a really big way—which quickly made me concerned that just maybe some of this feeling could be attributed to the common denominator of those years of my life: me.

Well, shit.

2017 was a rough ride. I am so not trying to play Misery Poker here. I’m well aware that there are enormous swaths of the population who have it a whole hell of a lot worse than I do. My life is actually pretty terrific, especially through the lens of blogs and instagrams and whatnot. So let’s dispense with that, for a sec.

I can take you through it, kind of. Donald Trump was sworn in as President of the United States. That sentence alone. What a thing to be playing out, like some sticky fog that’s in and around and over and under everything. It’s such a dark, horrible, oppressive, depressing and inescapable feeling/backdrop/preoccupation/threat. Many of you can probably relate. Some other stuff went awry, too. A big project I thought I’d be developing kind of vanished. Renovation plans I’d made for my house, derailed. Plans I’d made for bluestone cottage, still unfinished. A future opportunity that fell through at the eleventh hour. This other small job I ended up taking that turned unexpectedly large. A project we didn’t get to before the weather turned. The attempt to wean off my anti-depressants (why, Daniel, why?). I over-committed. I got distracted. My dog died. I messed up with my blog. I let people down. I still don’t have a kitchen. Anxiety won.

Avoidance and anxiety go hand in hand, I guess. At least for me they do. I’m attracted to motivational statements like “nothing will make you feel better except doing the work” because I know they’re true and I also know they are counter to how I act when I encounter anxiety. A lifetime of it (and several years of its sleepy, somehow even less fun companion, depression) taught me to avoid anxiety in order to make life more manageable. This is not unanimously a terrible strategy: if snakes make you anxious, avoiding snakes is not such a bad way to live? There are plenty of other valuable things you can spend your time dealing with than the thing that you don’t like. If you never hold a snake, does it really matter?

The strategy becomes intensely problematic when pretty much everything makes you anxious. Like little tiny things and also really big things. Hello, my name is Daniel Kanter. I have not been doing great, thank you for asking. I’m trying to be better.

Take, for instance: this past summer, I started working on a house for a couple of clients. I haven’t talked about it here. I wanted to, but client gigs are fast-paced and draining and don’t leave a lot of time for blogging—that is true. But that doesn’t mean there’s literally no time—I also wasn’t making it. After spending 8 hours a day working on a renovation, it’s difficult to then want to spend several more hours thinking about it, writing about it, editing photos of it…and so I didn’t. I didn’t write about anything else, either. For a few weeks this felt good.

Some handy self-deception quickly took hold. I wasn’t being a lousy blogger, I was just taking a step back from blogging. Because I’ve been blogging for 7+ years and I can take a few weeks if I want to. Nobody would notice, probably. The story I told myself was that I just wanted to focus on the work, without the distraction of a broader group actively commenting on something in progress. I told myself I didn’t want to be influenced by what I thought readers would want or expect to see (which is puzzling, because I don’t really think I am normally? this isn’t an actual concern of mine?) and just focus on doing right by the house and the clients. I told myself that blog readerships create a certain kind of pressure—whether the content-creator is aware of it or not—to keep doing the thing that’s gotten them recognition or did well on Pinterest or whatever in the past. This, I told myself, is why it can seem like a lot of bloggers show a stunning lack of diversity in their creative output, and I did not want to fall into that trap by prioritizing the constant need to be sharing whatever I was doing over just doing the best job I could at the thing that I was doing.

I’m not even saying that these thoughts/feelings/theories are incorrect. But I am recognizing them for what they mostly were: justifications. I was vastly underachieving at something that’s important to me, so I created noble-sounding reasons to avoid feeling that failure-anxiety. That doesn’t work for very long.

And so, the anxiety-avoidance cycle. It’s a self-sustaining system that never fails to compound. I didn’t just not blog. I pretty much pretended that I didn’t even have a blog. Like I didn’t even know what blogs were! I focused on “the work” (of playing contractor for a relatively short-term freelance project), and whenever I thought about writing a blog post, anxiety told me that I’d first have to sign into WordPress, and then I’d be confronted with the comments I’d missed—at this point, there might be somebody asking if I was OK, or dead, or stopped blogging entirely, or accusing me of only posting because of X, Y, or Z, or even just telling me they missed my posts—and any of those things would make me feel worse. So I didn’t look. Instagram became anxiety-provoking, too. Other blogs. E-mail. Texts.

It’s almost like the longer you avoid something, the scarier it becomes. FANCY THAT.

This anxiety-avoidance-anxiety loop told me that all of you must hate me. That I had been letting everyone down, and even if/when I did write a blog post, or even post a picture to instagram, it would be met with anger and resentment for having disappeared, or something. Or something—because as much as I can try to explain the specific fears behind anxiety, it’s never just one thing or one bad outcome. It’s all of them. And then, what do you even do? Like, I can’t not post for a few months and then just come back with some whatever post about whatevers-town. It should be awesome. Creating something that you feel confident will be universally viewed as awesome by a reader that already hates you is, you guessed it, anxiety-provoking primarily because it’s probably impossible. So I kept…not doing it. I actually waited until a blogger friend was in town, handed them my phone, rattled off my password, and asked them to moderate months of missed comments for me. I couldn’t face it. Having given it some thought, that’s…crazy. But it’s kind of how I’ve been about stuff.

When Linus died, I knew I had to tell you. It took me a few weeks. Part of that was because I was very sad, and grieving, and not really in the headspace to sit down and write a eulogy, but another part of it was the anxiety-avoidance thing. The loop that actually had me convinced that even on that post I was likely to receive a barrage of guilt and shame for being a shitty blogger, and I couldn’t deal with it on top of mourning my dead dog. Of course, you didn’t do that.

You never have. If legitimate fears need to be backed up by evidence or past experience, this fear is not legitimate. None of my fears about blogging—or most things that make me anxious, really—are all that legitimate. But that’s not how fears born of anxiety work. They’re not rational but they are persistent. They’re exhausting.

I hate this thing—this anxiety surrounding blogging and you. It’s not just a problem with blogging—it’s a problem in other areas of my life, too, in many cases for longer than this—but blogging? That’s new. I’ve always liked blogging I think because it felt separate from the anxieties of everyday life, like a relief from it, not an addition to it. So this thing where I can’t even sign into WordPress to check comments? It’s extremely unpleasant. And ultimately counter-productive, if the goal is to not feel like shit. Avoiding the thing that’s making me anxious is not helping. It’s making it worse.

In other words, I need to Stop That. Here and elsewhere in my life.

Reflecting on this past year, and the few preceding it, have me feeling a certain urgency to not feel this way in another 12 months. Also 9 months after that, when I’ll be 30. I don’t want to still be in this place, where anxiety still wins and everything feels like it has one or many loose ends to tie. So I’m, like, consciously trying to change my approach to things? I’m trying to take control of this situation. Make it better. It’s not just going to happen.

I want to get back to having fun—with life, with my house, with my work, and with this blog. I miss sharing. Not sharing doesn’t make me feel good; I know this now.

So since I’ve been home, I’ve been trying to get into some new shit. I started going to acupuncture. We’ll see. I made haircut appointments for myself every month for the next year. I did a huge purge of digital clutter and reclaimed 170 gigabytes of hard drive space and avoided the need for a new computer. I’ve been aggressively getting the house in order. I began posting to Instagram again. I started a book club where all we do is indulge our secret fascination with self-help books by reading self-help books (//hoping we get something out of it no lie). I’ve been cooking more of my own food (my makeshift situation would be funny if it hadn’t lasted so long and was therefore so embarrassing/upsetting) and trying to take better care of my body. I’ve been working on creating boundaries at work and trying really hard to stop comparing myself to the success of others. I’ve been making goals and outlining plans and trying to give myself some goddamn tools to succeed. And I’m writing this blog post, and that’s something.

So that’s where I’m at. They’re steps forward. I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying. It’s good to see you.

I hope your 2018 is off to a good start. I’m excited to make this one better.

[billydmacklin]

I Went Away.

A month ago, I took a trip. I’m super duper extra #blessed to come from a family who loves to travel. They aren’t really the types to voluntarily take a long road trip or bop somewhere for a weekend—they like a Big Trip. I grew up with stories like that one time, in 1984, when my grandparents took their three kids and spouses to still-Apartheid South Africa. My father fell extremely ill, so the rest of the family decided to go on safari and leave him and my mother back at the hotel—which sounds fine enough, except that the hotel was really a collection of tents outdoors. Evidently, the wild baboon population had learned to pillage the campsite for food as soon as the tourists left, and so, as the rest of the family watched giraffes graze on acacia trees and lions drink from the watering hole and the beauty of nature unfold before their eyes, my mother sat quivering back at camp, hoping to avoid being torn limb from limb by wild apes. My dad, useless and feverish inside the tent, missed the whole thing. This is just how the Kanters unwind as a group.

So several years ago, my dad got it in his mind that The Next Big Trip would be a relaxing little mid-winter jaunt down to the continent of Antarctica. You know the one, at the bottom of the planet? Where people do not generally go because it’s very hard to get to and very cold and there are no beaches? That’s the one. That’s where I went. It was fucking unreal.

In case you’re curious, here are the basic strokes: we all flew to Santiago, Chile, where we were for a couple of days. Then we flew to Ushuaia, Argentina, which is the southernmost city in the world, and then boarded a ship called Orion. The ship is basically a co-production of National Geographic and a tourism company called Linblad Expeditions, designed to hold about 100 passengers and 60 crew members. They call it an “expedition cruise,” which is essentially their way of describing a situation in which you’re exploring, kind of, while also being very comfortable and having all your needs constantly met. Once boarded and safety-briefed, you begin to sail—a term, I learned, that does not actually require the use of sails to be accurate. You sail for about two days, much of it through an area where the Atlantic and the Pacific collide to form a notoriously rough area of ocean called Drake Passage. A lot of people get seasick. I did not, because I’m better than everyone else.

Once near the Antarctic Peninsula, the waters calm and everything looks insane. Like, am-I-on-a-different-planet-level-insane. Cool blue water and icebergs and crisp allergen-free air and the occasional sea bird trailing the ship. This is where the expedition part of the cruise comes in, because weather changes rapidly and ice conditions are constantly in flux, so the captain and expedition leaders are constantly forming and re-forming an itinerary until the sail back to Ushuaia. While in/around the peninsula, they aim to get you off the boat twice a day for about 3 hours each time (these are the expeditions), and the rest of the time is taken up by eating, sleeping, attending lectures, enjoying the ship’s bar, and sailing to the next place. Sometimes you encounter whales along the way.

Truth be told, I almost never want to hear about other peoples vacations, and this is not a travel blog, so I feel inclined to stop talking about it now. I got to go do an amazing thing. I feel really lucky about it. I wasn’t allowed to touch the animals. I was allowed to touch the ice. I learned a lot, and I love my family.

Altogether, we were away for three weeks. Which went quickly, but still seemed like an insane amount of time to be, like, a grown-up but not responsible for anything. To detach from normal life and experience something so…unlike normal life. So even though it was more physically/mentally involved than, say, 3 weeks on a beach, it did give me some time to just…pause. And think. And take stock.

Get ready, I have a lot of feelings.

I am not a person who naturally does that. I’m more of a busy-body, going about life with an urgency and focus reserved only for whatever is calling out the loudest for attention. Of course, the quieter things don’t just disappear. More often, they fester and grow somewhere just outside my line of sight, lurking off in the periphery.

Maybe this is why taking breaks usually feels stressful for me: it means pausing whatever is currently holding my attention, stepping back, and surveying the bigger picture. It means looking at that stuff in the periphery. Confronting the stuff that’s been flying under the radar. To me, that’s fucking terrifying. Overwhelming. It makes me feel absolutely horrible.

I’m not actually convinced that it needs to be this way, or that it will be forever, but it has for a while. And I’m not just trying to whine—it’s just me, telling you, that I’m recognizing a problem, which in turn effects this blog, and I’m working on it. And maybe some of this rings true for you, too, and maybe we can work on it together.

A few weeks ago on December 31, I was scrolling through a few photos on my iPhone when that “On this Day” feature popped up. I tapped on “On This Day: December 31, 2016”—New Year’s Eve, exactly one year prior. I had taken exactly one photo, of my friend’s front door when we arrived for her New Year’s party. The wreath from Christmas was still hanging up between the panels, and underneath was a black bumper sticker with white text reading, simply, FUCK 2016. I remember walking up to that door, laughing a little, and thinking something along the lines of “amen to that.”

I also remember thinking the same thing about 2015. And maybe 2014, too, although some distance has made it more difficult to pinpoint exactly why. I know I felt that way about 2017, though—in a really big way—which quickly made me concerned that just maybe some of this feeling could be attributed to the common denominator of those years of my life: me.

Well, shit.

2017 was a rough ride. I am so not trying to play Misery Poker here. I’m well aware that there are enormous swaths of the population who have it a whole hell of a lot worse than I do. My life is actually pretty terrific, especially through the lens of blogs and instagrams and whatnot. So let’s dispense with that, for a sec.

I can take you through it, kind of. Donald Trump was sworn in as President of the United States. That sentence alone. What a thing to be playing out, like some sticky fog that’s in and around and over and under everything. It’s such a dark, horrible, oppressive, depressing and inescapable feeling/backdrop/preoccupation/threat. Many of you can probably relate. Some other stuff went awry, too. A big project I thought I’d be developing kind of vanished. Renovation plans I’d made for my house, derailed. Plans I’d made for bluestone cottage, still unfinished. A future opportunity that fell through at the eleventh hour. This other small job I ended up taking that turned unexpectedly large. A project we didn’t get to before the weather turned. The attempt to wean off my anti-depressants (why, Daniel, why?). I over-committed. I got distracted. My dog died. I messed up with my blog. I let people down. I still don’t have a kitchen. Anxiety won.

Avoidance and anxiety go hand in hand, I guess. At least for me they do. I’m attracted to motivational statements like “nothing will make you feel better except doing the work” because I know they’re true and I also know they are counter to how I act when I encounter anxiety. A lifetime of it (and several years of its sleepy, somehow even less fun companion, depression) taught me to avoid anxiety in order to make life more manageable. This is not unanimously a terrible strategy: if snakes make you anxious, avoiding snakes is not such a bad way to live? There are plenty of other valuable things you can spend your time dealing with than the thing that you don’t like. If you never hold a snake, does it really matter?

The strategy becomes intensely problematic when pretty much everything makes you anxious. Like little tiny things and also really big things. Hello, my name is Daniel Kanter. I have not been doing great, thank you for asking. I’m trying to be better.

Take, for instance: this past summer, I started working on a house for a couple of clients. I haven’t talked about it here. I wanted to, but client gigs are fast-paced and draining and don’t leave a lot of time for blogging—that is true. But that doesn’t mean there’s literally no time—I also wasn’t making it. After spending 8 hours a day working on a renovation, it’s difficult to then want to spend several more hours thinking about it, writing about it, editing photos of it…and so I didn’t. I didn’t write about anything else, either. For a few weeks this felt good.

Some handy self-deception quickly took hold. I wasn’t being a lousy blogger, I was just taking a step back from blogging. Because I’ve been blogging for 7+ years and I can take a few weeks if I want to. Nobody would notice, probably. The story I told myself was that I just wanted to focus on the work, without the distraction of a broader group actively commenting on something in progress. I told myself I didn’t want to be influenced by what I thought readers would want or expect to see (which is puzzling, because I don’t really think I am normally? this isn’t an actual concern of mine?) and just focus on doing right by the house and the clients. I told myself that blog readerships create a certain kind of pressure—whether the content-creator is aware of it or not—to keep doing the thing that’s gotten them recognition or did well on Pinterest or whatever in the past. This, I told myself, is why it can seem like a lot of bloggers show a stunning lack of diversity in their creative output, and I did not want to fall into that trap by prioritizing the constant need to be sharing whatever I was doing over just doing the best job I could at the thing that I was doing.

I’m not even saying that these thoughts/feelings/theories are incorrect. But I am recognizing them for what they mostly were: justifications. I was vastly underachieving at something that’s important to me, so I created noble-sounding reasons to avoid feeling that failure-anxiety. That doesn’t work for very long.

And so, the anxiety-avoidance cycle. It’s a self-sustaining system that never fails to compound. I didn’t just not blog. I pretty much pretended that I didn’t even have a blog. Like I didn’t even know what blogs were! I focused on “the work” (of playing contractor for a relatively short-term freelance project), and whenever I thought about writing a blog post, anxiety told me that I’d first have to sign into WordPress, and then I’d be confronted with the comments I’d missed—at this point, there might be somebody asking if I was OK, or dead, or stopped blogging entirely, or accusing me of only posting because of X, Y, or Z, or even just telling me they missed my posts—and any of those things would make me feel worse. So I didn’t look. Instagram became anxiety-provoking, too. Other blogs. E-mail. Texts.

It’s almost like the longer you avoid something, the scarier it becomes. FANCY THAT.

This anxiety-avoidance-anxiety loop told me that all of you must hate me. That I had been letting everyone down, and even if/when I did write a blog post, or even post a picture to instagram, it would be met with anger and resentment for having disappeared, or something. Or something—because as much as I can try to explain the specific fears behind anxiety, it’s never just one thing or one bad outcome. It’s all of them. And then, what do you even do? Like, I can’t not post for a few months and then just come back with some whatever post about whatevers-town. It should be awesome. Creating something that you feel confident will be universally viewed as awesome by a reader that already hates you is, you guessed it, anxiety-provoking primarily because it’s probably impossible. So I kept…not doing it. I actually waited until a blogger friend was in town, handed them my phone, rattled off my password, and asked them to moderate months of missed comments for me. I couldn’t face it. Having given it some thought, that’s…crazy. But it’s kind of how I’ve been about stuff.

When Linus died, I knew I had to tell you. It took me a few weeks. Part of that was because I was very sad, and grieving, and not really in the headspace to sit down and write a eulogy, but another part of it was the anxiety-avoidance thing. The loop that actually had me convinced that even on that post I was likely to receive a barrage of guilt and shame for being a shitty blogger, and I couldn’t deal with it on top of mourning my dead dog. Of course, you didn’t do that.

You never have. If legitimate fears need to be backed up by evidence or past experience, this fear is not legitimate. None of my fears about blogging—or most things that make me anxious, really—are all that legitimate. But that’s not how fears born of anxiety work. They’re not rational but they are persistent. They’re exhausting.

I hate this thing—this anxiety surrounding blogging and you. It’s not just a problem with blogging—it’s a problem in other areas of my life, too, in many cases for longer than this—but blogging? That’s new. I’ve always liked blogging I think because it felt separate from the anxieties of everyday life, like a relief from it, not an addition to it. So this thing where I can’t even sign into WordPress to check comments? It’s extremely unpleasant. And ultimately counter-productive, if the goal is to not feel like shit. Avoiding the thing that’s making me anxious is not helping. It’s making it worse.

In other words, I need to Stop That. Here and elsewhere in my life.

Reflecting on this past year, and the few preceding it, have me feeling a certain urgency to not feel this way in another 12 months. Also 9 months after that, when I’ll be 30. I don’t want to still be in this place, where anxiety still wins and everything feels like it has one or many loose ends to tie. So I’m, like, consciously trying to change my approach to things? I’m trying to take control of this situation. Make it better. It’s not just going to happen.

I want to get back to having fun—with life, with my house, with my work, and with this blog. I miss sharing. Not sharing doesn’t make me feel good; I know this now.

So since I’ve been home, I’ve been trying to get into some new shit. I started going to acupuncture. We’ll see. I made haircut appointments for myself every month for the next year. I did a huge purge of digital clutter and reclaimed 170 gigabytes of hard drive space and avoided the need for a new computer. I’ve been aggressively getting the house in order. I began posting to Instagram again. I started a book club where all we do is indulge our secret fascination with self-help books by reading self-help books (//hoping we get something out of it no lie). I’ve been cooking more of my own food (my makeshift situation would be funny if it hadn’t lasted so long and was therefore so embarrassing/upsetting) and trying to take better care of my body. I’ve been working on creating boundaries at work and trying really hard to stop comparing myself to the success of others. I’ve been making goals and outlining plans and trying to give myself some goddamn tools to succeed. And I’m writing this blog post, and that’s something.

So that’s where I’m at. They’re steps forward. I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying. It’s good to see you.

I hope your 2018 is off to a good start. I’m excited to make this one better.

I Went Away. published first on https://carpetgurus.tumblr.com/