#I just sat down with a ball of wool and watched like three movies and did knit Perl alt per row

[readingwriter92]

Took like. Three years straight and like thirty scarves made but I’m finally branching out a little in my knitting.

I have made a single fingerless, glove thingy. The paper I found calls it a “wrister ”

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

And here is the next part. Only two left for this story! :) 

23

“Love is the easiest thing there is. It's the layers of doubt, fear, and expectation that make it complicated.”

“So, I have to bake this whole pie by myself?” Asked Taron as Robyn sat on a stool on the opposite side of the island.

“Yep.”

“Robyn!” He whined. “You know I am going to fuck this up.”

“You actually cannot fuck it up Taron. It is limes and biscuits.”

“Please will you help me?” He asked as he looked at the ingredients, she had laid out for him.

“Nope. You owe me.”

“I owe you? I got that ball for you yesterday.”

Robyn laughed before she stopped suddenly becoming very serious. “Yes, because that will pay me back for what you did today.”

When Robyn got in from work that afternoon, Taron had been sitting on the floor having a tea party with all of her bears. He had taken them out from under her bed again and laid them all out and given as many of them as he could a plate and cup from her kitchen, his with a slice of toast on it and a cup of tea beside him.

“A tea party?” She had questioned but when he gave her a gorgeous grin, she just couldn’t be annoyed at him.

Robyn had gone to take a quick shower after she walked away from Taron and his tea party to find in her closet that he had taken all off her work clothes from her rail and replaced them with all of his clothes from his duffle and when she walked into the bathroom, on the floor were her all of her toiletries set up in a maze of organised mess, including the wrappings and packaging from the feminine products which he had routed out from her cabinet.

“Taron!” She yelled and he walked in looking at her. “Do I even want to know what this is supposed to be?”

“It’s art.” He answered simply.

“Art?” She questioned.

“Tampons are not fun.” He replied to her question.

“Excuse you?” She asked folding her arms over her chest.

“Not fun at all.”

“Should I even ask.”

“They really soak up a lot of liquid, don’t they?” Robyn ran her hands over her face, leaving her hands on her cheeks. “I wanted to fill the bath and put them all in but that would have been way too much water so then I tried the sink but I didn’t want to block the sink. I didn’t realise how much soakage they actually have. I understand better now why you used pads for my arm in the 7/11.”

“Taron please tell me you have not wasted all my tampons and pads on testing their soaking abilities.”

“I will replace them for you.” He said as he walked out of the bathroom. “I mean you are good for another three weeks, right? Enjoy your shower.”

“TARON!” She shouted after him but he closed the bathroom door as he left her alone to shower. “Clean up the bears!” She yelled through the closed door before turning to look at her bathroom floor. “I might just kill you before this week is out.” She muttered to herself and she started to clean up the bottles from the floor.

Robyn could easily forgive him for pulling her whole bathroom apart and his curiosity of products he would never have to use and she knew she could trust him with her bears. She already had snuck his blue Hawaiian shirt into her underwear drawer to keep as payback for switching her clothes around but it was the glitter in her body wash, that would take longer for her to forgive.

She marched out to him wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping down her back. “I am going to murder you.”

“Rob… Robyn.” Taron jumped up from the couch when she appeared in front of him, her skin still dripping from her shower.

“You are so dead. Where did you find the glitter?” She demanded.

After the shock is seeing her in a towel, he grinned. “I found a box in the shed.”

“You are in big trouble mister.” She said as she took a step closer to him, poking him in his chest.

She had used her body wash as normal, the bubbles frothing immediately but when she washed the suds off, her skin was extremely sparkly in the light of the bathroom. She was very confused when she looked at her arms and legs, wondering how on earth she was covered in a fine layer of silver and gold glitter and then it came to her. One Welsh man who had nothing better to do with his time during the day.

“Oh shit Robyn. I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.”

“That bad Taron? That bad? I am like a fucking glitter troll! And I think it’s in my hair!” She wailed. Taron tried to hold back his laugher but it was very hard when she pouted at him. “Taron!”

“Oh shit I am sorry! I am really sorry Robyn.” He took her arm by the elbow, her skin shimmering every time he moved her arm. “I am so fucking sorry. It’ll wash off.”

“Do you remember that conversation you and me had in the garden about glitter and how water and glitter doesn’t mix? Taron, I have a really important meeting with a parent tomorrow!” Robyn started to jump up and down with frustration. “Ugh I am bringing you to work with me tomorrow or I am going to leave you with my parents so they can babysit you!” Robyn brushed her hands up and down her arm, smoothing out wet water droplets on her skin but the glitter remained stuck firm. “It’s not going to come off! Taron…” She moaned.

“Oh sweetheart.” Despite her state of dress, just being in a towel, Taron took her in for a hug, not caring that her hair left his arms wet. It was the first time he had seen Robyn act, well like a girl, where she was frustrated beyond belief with how she looked, almost having a fit with the glitter he had put in her body wash. He really didn’t think he had put that much in but as he looked down to her bare shoulders, her wet skin sparkled and as he eyes travelled down her back, he could see the same twinkle on the back of her legs. “I will google how to get rid of glitter for you.”

“I hate you.” She said into her shoulder.

“I know darling, I know.”

Robyn spent twenty minutes in the shower trying to scrub the glitter from her body with a body scrub brush and her skin was red raw afterwards. Taron had shouted into her that make up remover would help get rid of the glitter and she spent another twenty using cotton wool and her precious clinque make up remover to rub the remaining glitter off. She had to call Taron in so get her back once she was half dressed because she couldn’t reach.

“I am really sorry.” He repeated when he saw how red her skin was after she had scrubbed it. “Really sorry.” He said again as she gave him some body lotion to rub in once he was done with the glitter removal, taking his time as he massaged her lower back working his way up to her neck and shoulders. He felt awful for his little trick, not realising how far it was going to go and wanted to really show her he meant his apology.

“Please tell me you are finished snooping now.” She asked as she rolled her neck as Taron’s thumbs worked lovingly into her skin.

“I am finished. Definitely finished.”

“No more routing through drawers and boxes?”

“Nope. I will sit on the couch and read through scripts instead.”

She turned her whole body to look at him, keeping a tight hold of the blue checked shirt against the front of her body. “You could have been reading scripts instead of doing this?” She asked him as he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs now rubbing in easy circles there instead of her neck.

“Maybe.”

“You are a tosspot.” She said as she turned away from him and moved her hands to her back so she could close the strap of her bra and pull the shoulder straps up, before pulling her shirt on over her head, turning back to him as she buttoned the middle buttons. “I would watch my back Egerton. Not this week because I know you are still hurt but in the future, my payback will be mighty and deserved.”

“I will bring you to a movie premier.” He tried again knowing what her answer was going to be.

“Oh Taron, I would be worried if I was you. Everybody loves an Irish girl, but you should never, ever mess with one.”

Robyn turned and left him standing in the bathroom, a smirk deep in his features but it turned to a frown quickly when he realised that she wasn’t joking about getting him back. So, when he was staring at all the ingredients for the key lime pie Robyn was making him bake all by himself fifteen minutes later, he thought this might have been her payback but as she raised one eyebrow at him, he knew it wasn’t.

“I would roll my sleeves up of I were you Taron. You have a lot of work to do.”

“I will fuck this up.”

“And I will have photo evidence of it all.” She said as she held her phone to him.

Sighing, Taron rolled up the sleeves of his navy shirt. “Right so what do I do first?” He asked.

“Put the biscuits in the zip lock bag and use the rolling pin to crush them.”

Doing as Robyn instructed him, Taron started to crush the biscuits while Robyn snapped a photo of him. He stopped mid crush and looked at her. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I am still not helping you.”

“Would you have kissed me if Pearl hadn’t of interrupted us?”

The photo Robyn had taken captured a beautiful forlorn look on his face, his eyes wide and curious, his left eye brow raised and matched the same look on Robyn’s face.

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation. “Would you?” She returned quickly.

“Yes.” His answer made Robyn look down to the island before slowing gazing back up at Taron, who was still looking at her but his whole face changed from a slight small smile to a grimace. “Fuck Robyn.”

“Maybe not just yet.” She answered as she hopped off the stool and walked around to Taron who was furiously running his hands through his hair and down his face.

“What a mess, huh?” He said and he leaned his hip against the island and looked to her.

“I wouldn’t call it a mess at all. Me and you, our relationship has been fast and furious. I know you have felt it and I have definitely felt it, this spark we have and last night just showed how intense it is. There is no denying the connection we have but it has been built because of the life-threatening situation we found ourselves in and because we were literally thrown together.”

“You saved my life Robyn.”

“I know Taron but we have only known each other two weeks and I don’t know how you feel but I don’t think a relationship can be built on such extreme circumstances, despite how easy we get on and how much we have in common. Emotions will always run high between me and you, always and last night emotions were on overload for us.”

“Might be an understatement.” Replied Taron. “I agree though. CPR is probably not the best start for a budding relationship.” He took a long breath in and out. “What I do know though, is that I love you, very much and I always will.”

“I absolutely love you too.” Robyn reached over and placed her hand on his. “And I will always be here for you and at the end of a phone too whenever you need me. You and me, what we have is something no one will ever understand. Jesus Taron even I don’t understand it but what I do know and hate to say it but I would rather have you as a friend above anything else. As much as I wish Pearl hadn’t interrupted us last night, maybe it was for the best.”

“Just a few more seconds.” He said quietly. Taron agreed completely with everything Robyn had said but he couldn’t help but wonder what it would have felt like to have a little kiss from her. “I need you as a friend too and I wouldn’t want anything to ruin what we have.”

Robyn heard the change in his voice and saw his head tilt a little towards his chin, realising he was disappointed that Pearl had disturbed them. “We have kind of kissed.” She said.

“I don’t remember it. I think I might have been unconscious at the time.” He smiled her way. “We already know that we are friends for life and I know I owe you more than I can ever give you, even more so after these last two weeks. I just don’t know what I am going to do with this fucking spark though.”

Robyn moved closer to him and placed two hands on his cheeks, Taron looking at her confused. She stood on her toes and looked at him directly in his eyes, before closing hers and placed a soft kiss on his lips, nose and then his forehead. “Me either.” She whispered against his cheek as she placed one last kiss there. “I will do nothing to risk our friendship Taron. It means so much to me and now you can remember the kiss.”

A little grin filled his face. “I thought I got two?” He said with a small wink. “Two breathes?” He loved seeing her smile and blush and he took full advantage of her silence and bending his head, brushed another quick kiss to her lips before pulling her in for a hug. “This doesn’t change anything between us, right?”

“Never.”

“Good. I can still have my head massages?” He asked as he rubbed her back, enjoying how she gently slapped his. “What about the spark?”

“Let’s keep it ignited. It’s a friendship spark and I know I am always going to feel it.”

“Me too.”

Taron absolutely adored his hugs with Robyn. She fitted so neatly into him and every time he could feel nothing but love from her. He also knew she was right about their emotions and connections. Everything between them was heightened because of their circumstances but without a doubt he wanted and definitely needed Robyn as a friend, even if her tiny kiss made his heart flutter. It was a gesture he would keep close to his heart forever.

“Want some help?”

He heard her ask. “With what chicken?” He replied laughing a little as she groaned into him.

“I am going to have to get used that bloody nickname, amn’t I?”

“Yes you are and help with what chicken?”

“The baking.”

“You will help me?” He asked as he let her go. “Thought I owed you?”

“You do but I want to help you.”

It was another easy baking activity between the two, Robyn giving Taron full credit when they finished the key lime pie and he placed it in the fridge to fully set.

“Think you can make one for your mam?” She asked as she dried the dishes while Taron washed them.

“I should be able to pull it together but I may need you to write the recipe down for me and I am definitely going to need the one for the rainbow cake. I will not get in the door at home before Mari and Rosie ask me to help them make one.”

“Of course I will.”

“Thanks chicken.”

Nothing had changed between them after their talk, if anything their friendship was further stamped with approval, both taking their spots on the couch that evening, with their legs thrown up onto the poof as they lazily and happily watch some television together.

When Robyn came on from work on Wednesday, she walked into the apartment with her eyes closed. “Do I need to be worried?” She asked as she blindly walked to the couch.

“It is safe to open your eyes.”

When she did, Taron was sitting on the couch with her laptop on his knees and his glasses on his face. “I have been reading scripts. I fucking hate reading scripts but I did it for you.”

Robyn sat down beside him. “You did it so you have some work when you are finished Kingman in the new year.”

“I did it to stop me from snooping.”

“No you did it to save yourself from more payback.”

“Well that too. Me and cwtch have been very good.” Robyn looked at him. “Promise. We have been sitting quietly.”

“And taking an Instagram picture.” She said smiling at him. “Did cwtch agree to his sudden fame?”

“He talked me into it.”

Robyn got a notification on her phone in her office that afternoon that Taron had posted a picture on Instagram and she was immediately curious to see what on earth he was posting. When the picture loaded, it was one of him half hiding behind the blue dinosaur, only the left side of his face visible as the plush took up the rest of picture. He had captioned it ‘Found a new friend to keep me company while I follow doctor’s orders.’ Of course, the picture had taken the attention of all his followers, again the comments wishing him well and even Richard had left his own reply. ‘You ditched your other friend already?’ he replied with a winky smiley face.

“I am sure the stuffed blue glitter dinosaur and you had a long argument about taking a picture.”

“He was against it at first.”

“Hmm sure he was.” She grinned. “It’s a real cute photo.”

“Just keeping things alive.” He said as he closed the laptop down and pulled his glasses off. “Easing back into things, right?”

“Right.”

After dinner, Taron asked if he could go to choir with Robyn before she had even got the chance to ask him. He had even asked if he could join in with the group of tenors.

“You sure? Last week you were hiding behind your hat. This week you want to take part?”

“If you think it would be ok?”

“Of course it would. Are you sure Taron?”

“Yeah. I trust you and I know I will get home and be kicking myself for not joining in and it has been so long since I sang in a choir and we’re easing back into life, right?”

The two walked into the church an hour later, Taron without his trusty hat and Robyn properly introduced him to Maddie. He had stepped into the tenor section with great encouragement from Maddie, announcing him to the choir as Robyn’s friend from last week, Taron taking a small bow. Robyn loved watching Taron sing so much so she forgot to sing along with her part and had to be nudged by her choir friends to pay attention. Maddie was teaching a new song and by the end of the hour and half, the choir had learnt the majority of the song of and easily sang it in four-part harmony as their rehearsal ended. Taron moved over to Robyn, when they were finished, as she spoke to some of her friends in the choir, standing beside her.

“She is our Freddy.” One said to Taron.

“Oh I know that. I have seen her sing that Queen song on DVD.”

Everyone laughed as Maddie walked over. “Taron you are more than welcome to come and sing with us whenever you want. Nice job on the harmonies.”

“You make learning them very easy. I know why this one loves it here.” Said Taron as he put his hands-on Robyn’s shoulders. He felt completely comfortable around everyone and no one had yet to ask him any questions about him, his movies or why he was visiting Robyn and he left the church with a spring in his step, feeling a lot better about being around people who weren’t Robyn and although he was nervous about the press and media, he didn’t feel his stomach drop every time now.

Whatever it was about Wednesday nights in Robyn’s home, Taron could not sleep again and found himself up long before her at five am sitting on her couch in his boxers and a t-shirt with a cup of coffee as he scrolled through his phone. Robyn wandered into him in her own pj bottoms and tank top at six.

“What are you doing up?” She asked sleepily as she sat on the poof stretching out.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Again?”

“No idea, Robyn. No idea.” He took a sip from his cup. “Think it will be a cuddly kind of day again today.”

“They are the best days.”

Robyn got ready for work while Taron stayed on the couch for a few minutes before getting up and making some breakfast for them.

“Go back to bed Taron.” Suggested Robyn as she picked up her car keys, getting ready to leave, a long yawn coming from Taron as she pulled on her converse. “I know we are not talking about it but you only have a few days left here and you really should take advantage of the peace and quiet before it gets mental for you again.” She started to walk away from him but stopped. “Take cwtch with you.” She grinned.

“I might just do that.” He replied.

Robyn came home for lunch just after one, a little later then she had planned as she got caught up in paperwork and when she walked into the house, she called for Taron but got no answer. She dropped her keys, phone and purse onto the breakfast bar and walled over the couch expecting to see him laying down, wrapped in the teddy bear throw but he wasn’t there. “Taron?” She called again and turned to the island in the kitchen to see it set up with two plates, a sandwich on each plate along with a cup of coffee and glass of milk. “Taron.” She said softly smiling at what she knew was meant to be lunch for her when she came in from work but she got held up and hadn’t arrived on time for lunch with him. She made her way into the bedroom and walked back to the kitchen to grab her phone.

Quietly she strolled back into the bedroom and opening the camera on her phone, walked around to her side of the bed and leaning down, took a photo of Taron as he slept soundly on his left side on top of the duvet, still in the clothes he wore to bed, the blue dinosaur cuddled tight in his arms, his nose buried into the plushes soft head.

“One for the memories Taron.” She said to herself.

“And one for me?” Robyn jumped when she heard his voice and looked to him, his eyes open but he still lay in a neat little ball on the bed. “I made you some lunch.”

Robyn climbed up onto the bed and moved over to him. “I know. I saw. Thank you. I am sorry I am late.” She said as sat up against the pillows beside him. “I got caught up in paper work.”

“It’s ok. I said I would lay down and wait for you but I guess I fell asleep.”

“And brought dino with you.”

“He was lonely without me.”

“I have a feeling you are going to stuff this dinosaur into your duffle to bring home.”

“Can I?” He asked looking up to her.

“You are very attached to it aren’t you.”

“I am just worried he is going to be thrown back under the bed when I leave.”

“You can bring him home Taron if you want and even if you don’t, cwtch will be staying on the couch. It’s his corner now too. I don’t think I will be able to sit on the corner any more.”

Taron moved up on the bed so he was sitting beside Robyn. “Why not?”

“Because it’s your corner.” She replied a little sadly.

Taron immediately sensed the sadness and handed the dinosaur to her. “It’s cwtch’s corner now.” He said. “I think he should stay with you because if my sisters see him, he’s a goner and he’s good for cuddles.”

Robyn gave the dinosaur a long squeeze. “Not as good as some though.” She could feel Taron looking at her. “You, you tosspot!” She laughed as she hit him with the dinosaur.

“You still haven’t told me what a tosspot is Robyn.” Replied Taron as he chuckled.

“It’s just what you are.”

“Is it a good thing or a bad thing.”

“Depends on the situation.” She chuckled.

“Great ‘cos that clears it up for me.” He took a stretch, stopping so he didn’t over stretch his side. Over the last week the pain in his side was much more bearable but he knew he still had to take his movements slow and easy. “You want to have lunch now?” He asked. “I can make another coffee and get you some fresh milk.”

“Can we just stay here for my lunch instead?” She asked.

“You don’t want to have some food?” He asked her.

“I think I would like to just sit here with you if that’s ok.”

Without words, Taron moved closer to her. “That is always ok with me.” He draped his left arm around her shoulders, loving how now she just automatically leant into him.

It was a subject both had been avoiding but again as it was with them, words were not needed. They knew their time together was growing shorter and every minute they had together was precious. It wasn’t that they would never see each other again but after Saturday every thing was going to change for them, their perfect bubble bursting.

Robyn reluctantly got up fifty minutes later, handing the dinosaur back to Taron. “You sleep.” She said to him.

“I won’t sleep tonight if I sleep any more.”

“Sure you will.” She said as she walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

“Maybe I will go back to reading scripts.” He shouted her way. “Or I will keep them for later on this evening. I will read them and fall asleep afterwards.”

Robyn came out of the bathroom. “Maybe you and cwtch could find another photo to take of your adventures.” She suggested.

“That is not a bad idea at all. I will make some dinner for us.”

“And I will actually turn up on time for it.” She went to walk out the door but came back when Taron called her name. “Yep.”

“Would you like to go for dinner tomorrow evening?” He asked her.

“Are you asking me on a friendship date?” She asked, a shy smile on her face.

“Maybe?” He replied, a matching smile on his.

“I would love that.”

“Ok great but can you recommend somewhere for us to go because I have no idea of what is around here.”

“There’s a nice place in the next town called The Stone Hearth. You can google the number.”

“Thanks Robyn.”

“Thanks for the invite. I am already looking forward to it.”

After dinner that evening, they were sitting on the couch when Taron pulled out two face masks from the back pocket of his jeans.

“I thought you said you did not do any more snooping.” She said as she snatched the two face masks from his hands. “And how long have these been in your pockets. Taron they are warm!” She started to laugh hard, deep chuckles coming from her.

“I didn’t snoop.” He replied. “I found them on Tuesday but figured after the glitter incident I thought it better not even suggest them so have kept both and not in my pockets Robyn!” He groaned. “I put them in there before dinner.”

“So, you have been sitting on my very expensive face masks.” She said.

“Just warming them up.” He replied smirking. “I thought it would be something nice for us to do, if you want.” He added.

“I want.” She agreed. “This is a fantastic idea. Give me two seconds to grab some things.”

“It’s a face mask, what else do you need?” He asked as he watched her walk into the bathroom through the laundry room. Taron had been waiting for the perfect timing to suggest the face masks to Robyn, hiding them under his clothes, which Robyn had moved from her rail back to the shelf she had been putting his clean clothes on. After choir last night there was no time and tomorrow, he had booked a table for two at the restaurant Robyn had suggested for them for eight o clock so knew tomorrow night was out and Saturday, well he didn’t want to think about Saturday so as they chilled on the couch now, it seemed the perfect moment to bring them out.

“We need these.” Robyn came back to him and sat beside him, holding up two head bands and what looked like two paintbrushes.

He took a headband from her. “Really?” He asked.

“Maybe not for you, but I need one. Hair stuck in face masks in not fun.” She pulled her hair up in a quick messy bun, pulling the other black hairband over her forehead and onto her head to keep her hair out of the way.

“Hairband it is then,” He said, copying Robyn, making her smile. She fixed it so it was a little further back on his forehead. “And these are?” He asked holding up the brush.

“For face masks and don’t ask me ok. I haven’t a clue but Claire got them for me for my birthday. You are supposed to use them to ‘paint’ the mask on so you are not using your fingers. When it comes to Claire and her gadgets, I just do what she says.”

“Paintbrushes for face masks.” He confirmed.

Robyn held up the packets. “Which one do you want? Sea mud or sea clay?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?” He asked.

She shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. One is in a dark blue packet and one is light blue packet. One is full of anti-oxidants and the other is for a youthful glow.”

“I shall take the youthful glow.” Said Taron taking the dark blue packet from her. “Definitely could do with some of that.” He went to tear open the packet but Robyn took it from him. “Hey!”

“Oh Taron, chicken. Do you really think you are doing it yourself?” She grinned at him. “I don’t think so.” She waved her make up brush at him. “I get to do it.”

“So, then I get to put yours on.”

“Well duh. Thought that was kind of obvious and seeing as how you need this youthful glow, lets get yours on first.” Robyn shook the packet a little, while Taron settled himself crossed legged opposite her and she carefully tore it open, putting the ripped package top onto a newspaper on the poof beside them. “I won’t go near the cuts and scratches Taron or your forehead.”

“I know Robyn. I trust you. I am actually a little excited about this.”

“Of course you are.” Robyn squeezed some of the mask onto the brush and placed the packet on the newspaper too. She placed her left hand on his right jaw and started to brush the grey mask onto his left cheek, working her way up towards his forehead and down his nose. She went over his cheek again, spreading the mask evenly over his skin.

“It’s a little warm.” He said as he opened his closed eyes.

“It was in your back-pocket Taron and you were sitting on it with your bum. I’d expect it to be a little warm.” She moved her hand around to the back of his neck and carefully swept the mask onto his right cheek, taking extra time to make sure she didn’t cover any of the injuries his face still held, avoiding the right side of his forehead completely. She put some more of the mask onto the brush and moved around either side of his jaw and then covered his chin and above his lips, using the remaining mask in the packet to go over his whole face again.  “And you are beautiful!” She said putting the used make up brush and empty packet on the newspaper.

“Now its your turn.” He uncrossed his legs while Robyn crossed hers. “So just paint it on, right?” He asked as he ripped the packet open.

“Pretty much.”

“Ok I got this.” In the same way that Robyn had held his face, Taron did the same for her, and he gently brushed the mask onto her cheek and forehead and down the other side.

“You are enjoying this too much.” Said Robyn as she heard him humming as he put some more mask onto the brush.

“I have been waiting to do this since Tuesday.” He replied, sweeping the mask down her nose. “Bye bye freckles.” He said as he did it again, Robyn’s lips twitching up but she said nothing and closed her eyes, letting him continue on. She could feel how careful he was being and also how thorough he was as he brushed her face three more times before he stopped. “And volá.” He put his brush and empty mask on the newspaper where Robyn had left the other one.

“Now we sit and wait.” Robyn sat back on the couch, Taron sitting beside her.

“And take photos.” He said as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “These are good memories to add.” Taron sent the photos he had taken to Robyn and dropping his phone on the couch, sat back on the couch, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. “Best two weeks ever.” He whispered.

Robyn heard him and smiled. “I agree with that.” She said quietly, slipping her hand into his. After twenty minutes of sitting, Robyn gave his hand another squeeze. “Let’s see how youthful you look.”

They walked into the bathroom and washed the masks off. “Good call for the headband.” Said Taron as he used a towel to pat his face dry.

“Sometimes I have good ideas.” Agreed Robyn as she pulled her headband off and her hair out of the bun. “And look at you. That’s taken about ten years off you!” She smiled. “Thanks Taron. Nice little treat after dinner.”

“Thought you would like it. Even if I did sit on them.” Robyn took a step forward and gave him a hug. “Robyn?”

“Just ‘cos I can.” She explained. “And ‘cos I want to.”

Taron understood exactly what she meant. His time was counting down very quickly and he felt his eyes start to water when he thought of what was coming but he swallowed back the tears. He kept telling himself to think of the time they had together rather than all the time they would spend apart. He would treasure his time with Robyn and hugged her a little closer.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Bah Humbug

This is an early holiday transitory one to help you move along from your craving for that distinct autumn smell to all things wintery! Originally set to be a feel-good drabble for @the-blind-assassin-12​ just because I adore her, it kind of got away from me and turned into a full-on one-shot! Special thanks to @something-tofightfor​ for taking the time to read and critique. Enjoy this big ball of fluff, courtesy of our very own Ryan Brenner!

No trigger warnings here, rated Disney movie G.

Word count: 2119

Tag list: @dylanobrusso​ @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @something-tofightfor​ @ms-delos​ @madamrogers​ @lexxierave​ @agent-bossypants​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @poindexted​ @maydayfigment​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @ladyofnaps​ 

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You hated Christmas carols. 

There was no valid reason behind it, but you loathed them, you didn’t want to hear about jingling bells, or sleigh bells ringing. You’d learned long ago that Santa Claus was always in town in the form of your parents and you were over hearing about a make-believe reindeer being bullied. And Frosty the Snowman? All snowmen melt. It’s science. Snow itself was something you never felt up to dealing with, and people wrote songs about wishing for it?! What idiots. 

The biggest predicament regarding Christmas carols was that they could not be avoided starting the first of November. Ghouls and goblins and an infinite amount of Avengers and Frozen Princesses were immediately traded in for ugly sweaters and Santa hats. It was American culture and you didn’t mind it…it was what came along with it that made you a Grinch. You couldn’t watch any TV without being harassed with commercials including some type of carol, and forget shopping. You were assaulted the moment you stepped inside a too-warm department store. You’d only run inside for three items, and upon stepping into the door, you steeled yourself for the inevitability. It would be a quick trip, in and out. 

Except the store was congested with so many people, your usual long strides you reserved for these kinds of atrocities was reduced to a slow, staggered creeping. The only thing worse than Christmas carols was Christmas carols playing when surrounded by people. 

You were in Hell. 

Finally, you were able to reach the shampoo aisle, a blaring speaker anchored to the ceiling directly above your head. It was impossible to tune the music out, and Frank Sinatra began crooning about being home for Christmas. But only in my dreams. It was one carol that brought a rush of warmth and comfort into your heart, followed by a pang of longing and a vivid memory. You missed him. 

*** *** ***

Summer had turned to autumn without you noticing. The air was cooler, less humid.  The days had grown shorter and there was a  buzz in the air. Sandals and sundresses were replaced with boots and scarves, and fuzzy socks became an indoor necessity. You knew this wasn’t just a cool snap when you heard leaves crunching beneath your feet as you reached your front porch, eyes scanning your yard quickly. How hadn’t you noticed until that moment that your grass had been blanketed in leaves in varying shades of fire:  rich auburn, burnt orange, golden yellow. Pausing as you looked, you heard a scuffling coming from behind your home, and you walked carefully around the perimeter of your home. A smile illuminated your face and adoration squeezed in your chest. Autumn leaves were gathered into two large piles, and Ryan was raking the remainder of what was left into a third heap as you approached him. 

“What are you doing, Ryan Brenner?” You tended to use his first and last name in situations like these, where you found him doing sweet things he never gave a second thought. His full name was beginning to replace the use of just ‘Ryan’ or, sometimes, just a shortened ‘Ry’. 

The rake he held in his hands stilled on the ground and he leaned his weight against it, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. Raising his shoulders in a shrug, he glanced around your cleared back yard before his eyes landed on you, nothing but you. “Yard work.” 

His answer was quick and simple, obvious, and you laughed, the crunching of dead leaves under your feet ceasing as you walked closer and greeted him with a quick kiss, followed by one that you lingered in. “You’re supposed to be visiting, relaxing. Not doing my yard work,” you teased. “

You know I can’t stay still for long,” he smiled. Yes, all too well.  The thought alone gifted him with another kiss. “I’m sweatin’, Y/N,” he said in his his slight Southern drawl. He wiped at his forehead with the back of one hand, the other still supporting the rake. “

“Hmm, seems like I don’t care much, doesn’t it?” You pecked at his lips once more in a playful fashion. “Can the mention of food coerce you inside?” You raised your brows and caught his startling dark eyes with yours, walking backward for a few paces before turning around to retreat indoors. You had leftovers to heat up.  

*** *** ***

After dinner was eaten and the dishes were set out to dry, you opted to change while Ryan cleaned up with the help of a hot, steamy shower. You slipped out of your clothes and pulled on a soft pair of pants, an oversized sweatshirt you loved to sleep in, and a warm pair of wool socks. Settling onto the couch with a book, you sat sideways, your back against the sofa’s arm. You heard Ryan’s footsteps against the old wooden floor before you saw him. Yet when you did, your book was forgotten as you let your eyes linger over his form. His dark, overgrown hair was wet, brushed back from his forehead. Low on his hips were a worn pair of sweatpants, his feet bare and a t-shirt covering his upper half, and he was holding his guitar. You’d barely opened your book, but you closed it and set it aside, raising your brows and offering him a smile. 

“What’s the occasion?” you nodded at the guitar. Ryan chuckled and bent to kiss your hair before crossing the room and settling on the hearth. You knew better than to start a fire; it was something Ryan had unofficially made his duty when he was in town. You’d opted to use the heater for quick warmth when the two of you came inside. 

“Just another day, Y/N,” Ryan said with a smile. You couldn’t remember a day you hadn’t seen Ryan without a guitar on his lap or heard music wafting from another room; there probably hadn’t been a music-free day since you’d known him. “Got somethin’ special for you.”

You gave him your full attention as his tattooed fingers of his left hands settled on the strings and right hand began strumming. The tune sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he started singing that you nodded in recognition, just before groaning in protest. Ryan only smiled, continuing on seamlessly with his rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”. He knew Christmas carols weren’t your favorite, but he also knew that you wouldn’t mind as much so long as he was the one playing. 

The scowl didn’t stay on your face for long, however. Ryan had chose that particular song for a reason. You knew the time was coming for him to chase the trains again, just as the weather was getting colder and the first snow of the season was looming on the horizon. By the time the song came to an end, there was only a look of understanding on your face as Ryan’s eyes met yours, and he set his guitar aside. Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you made your way across the room to perch on his lap and kissed his forehead before looking down at him, smiling halfway through your disappointment at his leaving soon. “I hated it.”

*** *** ***

 It had taken a full half an hour to grab a bottle of shampoo and a box of hot cocoa and pay for your items. You’d planned a full grocery shop, but every aisle in the store was congested with last-minute shoppers and you had far exceeded your Christmas cheer quota for the day. Ordering pizza for delivery had never sounded like a better idea, and by the time you made your trek through the parking lot, the last minutes of sunlight had passed. It was a full moon, the heavy clouds illuminated by the moonlight. They were ominous, a promise of snowfall at any given moment. It couldn’t be a more picture-perfect Christmas Eve, straight out of a mass-printed Rockwell painting. You idly remembered stacking more firewood beside the fireplace the night before, and mentally thanked yourself for a job well-done. If you didn’t have such a thick blanket of dead leaves between your driveway and the door, you’d make a run for it.

When you pulled into the drive and put your car in park, a small light caught your eye and your brow furrowed. During the time in your childhood where you had been certain you’d grow up to be an entomologist, you read ravenously and absorbed as much information as possible, most of which you remembered. You knew that fireflies hibernate in winter, and just as the thought jogged your memory, you saw the flicker again. Chalking it up to some form of reflection thanks to the light of the moon, you pulled your keys from the ignition, threaded your arm through the handles of the plastic bag that held your purchase, and steeled yourself for the assault of the frigid air. 

While making your beeline for the door, your vision caught another flicker of light, this one brighter and and not as brief. “What the…” you whispered under your breath, trying to decide whether to keep your pace steady or go against all common sense and make a run for it. Could this day get any worse? Could Christmas possibly be more of a pain in the ass? 

As you briskly approached your home, you squinted against the darkness and could vaguely make out a figure lounging on your porch steps. You’d remembered firewood, but you hadn’t remembered to leave a light on, and you were certain that this was it. You’d be starring in your very own television special, featured as the frozen corpse found in the snow just outside your home, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream when you heard a voice.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.” 

You froze for a moment, mouth dropping open. You’d recognize that deep tenor and slight drawl anywhere. A light thud sounded as you dropped your bag in surprise, and you bent quickly to pick it back up. You made a run for it the rest of the way as Ryan stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette. There was your firefly.

Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed your eyes shut. “How was…?”

“Raleigh,” he reminded you, holding you close. He gently swayed back and forth, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Lotta places to set up and play. Nice, mild weather.” He pulled back to look at you, his face holding a serious expression. “Not enough firewood for kindlin’. Not enough people honest enough to tell me when they hate my songs.”

You laughed, taking a step back and lacing your fingers with his. “If you’re itching to start a fire, you’re in for a treat. And I bought cocoa, the instant kind with the little marshmallows.” You shrugged apologetically, scrunching your nose as he reached for his pack and slung his guitar case over his shoulder. “I was wallowing. I couldn’t stand to walk around that store long enough to buy anything more than I had to, so instant cocoa it was.” You paused as you slid your keys in the lock, hurrying inside and ushering Ryan in as you flipped on the light switch. “Not to mention the Christmas carols.” Dramatically, you put on a fake shudder.

He shook his head wryly as he set down his things, gifting you a smile as he took the few steps to close the distance between you. Sliding his hands up and down your arms, his smile softened as he searched your face, pink from the cold. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, leaning in and ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I told you I’d be home for Christmas.”

Home. You weren’t one to dwell on the semantics of things, but with Ryan, you knew they mattered. He didn’t say he’d be here for Christmas or back for Christmas; he said he’d be home for Christmas, and here he was. There was nothing in that moment that could bring you down, everything in the world feeling perfect. The warm body next to yours was one the thing that you wanted, more than anything else in the world. 

“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You finally returned the sentiment, closing your eyes for a few beats as you leaned your forehead against his. “Can I ask for a favor?”

He moved his forehead from yours, looking down at you with his dark, warm eyes. There was a glimmer there on the surface, and it warmed your heart. Ryan looked happy, and there was nothing quite like it. 

“Anything.” 

You grinned impishly, reaching up to pull his cap from his head, running your fingers through his thick hair for good measure. “Give me your best version of Jingle Bells.”

[another-blog-bites-the-dust]

Trouble.

Summary: Roger is always getting himself into trouble but you’re always there to take care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, fighting, swearing.

A/N: I know it’s been agessssss 😭I haven’t been able to write or edit anything because I’ve had an eye infection and anytime I looked at a screen it would be agony 😫 it’s getting better however and I can endure looking at screens for a little longer now! 😅 I hope you enjoy! 💖(and I hope you spot a certain movie reference 👀😉)

“Kiss her already!” You snapped at the television. “If I have to watch another episode without any action happening I swear!”

The night was going in quick while you wasted it away on the sofa. Another Saturday night spent in the comfort of your house wrapped in a blanket with a bowl of pasta, carton of ice cream, wine and trash tv shows. There’s no place you’d rather be.

Except hanging out with Roger.

He was your best friend since the pair of you could babble nonsense. Although, Roger still did from time to time. He was your everything- clown when you were sad, a shoulder to cry on, therapist…albeit a very bad one. You couldn’t imagine a life without Roger. You just wished that you had the confidence to tell him how you truly felt. But doubt ate away at you and you worried that he’d never feel the same, that he’d always see you as the girl who wore odd socks and forced him to play with Barbie dolls with you.

Three loud bangs filled your flat and you jumped after each one. You glanced at the clock, it was late. Bang, bang, bang yet again. You slowly stood up and approached the door and grabbed the closest thing- an umbrella by your door. You opened it and almost took a swing at the person but they held their hands out. “Bloody hell! It’s me!” Shrieked Roger. A bloodied and battered Roger.

“What in gods name happened to you?!” You dropped the umbrella and caught him as he stumbled inside. “Jesus, Roger…” you groaned and practically carried him through to your sofa, shutting the front door over with your foot. You put him down as gently as you could but he still loudly groaned in agony. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No,” he breathed out and held up one hand while the other held his ribs. “No hospital. It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?! Are you joking?!” You yelled in a hushed voice. “You’re beaten to a pulp!” Your voice cracked and tears stung your eyes at the sight of him. His perfect face covered in blood and bruises, his nose gushing with blood and his knuckles all cut.

“I’m fine, really! Can you patch me up?” He pleaded. Your mum was a nurse and had taught you a few things. Roger knew this and often used it to his advantage. “Please, I don’t want to be dragged down to the hospital.”

Letting out a defeated sigh you headed into your bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit. You noticed dots of blood up the entirety of your hall. When you saw yourself in the mirror that was in your bathroom, you noticed all the blood on you because your top had soaked it up. You headed back through with the kit in hand and sat down next to him. You placed some sterile alcohol solution on a bit of cotton wool and dabbed one of the many cuts on his face. Roger winced in pain and you pulled back before dabbing again. “Sorry,” you whispered as you cleaned up the cut just above his eyebrow “Almost finished with his one.”

“It’s alright,” Roger gritted out and groaned when you wiped the scratch on his cheekbone.

“You want to tell me what happened?” You lowly asked grabbing his chin to steady his head while you cleaned his split lips. His perfect lips. He wasn’t drunk, you could barely smell any alcohol coming from him…although the overpowering smell of blood could have easily swayed your senses.

Roger opened his eyes ever so slightly to look at you and you looked up to meet his gaze. His battered face was riddled with guilt. “No.” He simply replied.

You weren’t one to pry so didn’t bother asking what sort of trouble he got himself into. “Fine. I have something that will soak up the blood coming out of your nose, pinch the bridge and I’ll be back in a second.” You leaped up and headed to the bathroom again. Roger pulled a face when he pinched his tender nose.

“What the hell is that?” Roger asked as you came back in and tore open a long, thin packet.

You took the thing out and showed it to him “Tampon. Stick it up your nose and it’ll soak up the blood.” He looked at you as if you were mad. “Seen it done before. Trust me.” You tossed it to him and he inspected it intently.

“How does this go up…” he looked at you and then his eyes traveled downwards “There..?”

“I can demonstrate on you if you want…” you joked with a smirk and Roger gulped before complying and placed the product up his nose. You giggled at the sight before sitting back down and feeling his nose. “It’s not broken so that’s something.” You grabbed some small butterfly stitch strips and placed them over his cuts that weren’t too deep. “Anywhere else hurt or is it just your face?”

“I think I’ve sprained my arm when I’ve fell.” He explained and you checked it out, not bothering to ask how he managed to fall. You pulled up his sleeve and sighed under your breath, he was going to get a cracker of a bruise there in the next few days.

“I can tie it up for you so you aren’t moving it about too much.” You then moved his arm and he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. “I’m sorry, Rog.” You whispered and tried to tie up his arm as quickly and as pain free as possible and then you cleaned up the grazes on his knuckles. “Anything-” you were cut off seeing him lift up his top and showing you the pink and purple blotches on his ribs. “My god…Roger…” your voice and heart broke at the slight. Your fingers delicately traced over his sore spots and Roger let out a content breath at the warmth coming from you. “I’ll…I’ll get you an ice pack for that.” You sniffled and stood up.

Roger watched as you made your way to the kitchen, quickly returning with an ice pack wrapped in a towel. He took it from you and pressed it to himself and let out a long wail of sheer relief. “Thank you.”

“You want to stay here tonight?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Is that okay?” Roger opened an eye.

You smirked “Of course it is. You can stay whenever you want for as long as you want.” He sent you a smile that made your heart jump like it was on a trampoline in your chest. Despite looking like crap, he beautifully glowed with joy. “You hungry?” He nodded and laid back on the sofa. “I’ve got some pasta left over, I’ll warm it up.” You went back to the kitchen again and heated it up. A tear slipped down your cheek and you wiped it away before setting up a tray for him. As well as the bowl of pasta, you placed some painkillers, a glass of water and a shot of scotch on it. You took it back through and Roger instantly raised a brow at the shot. “Medicinal purposes only.” You sat down next to him and handed him it.

He silently- and painfully- raised the shot glass at you as if to say thanks and placed it on the tray before trying to make an attempt at eating the pasta but his good hand was tied up and the other was still painful. “Can you help me?” He asked in a quiet, almost ashamed, voice. You nodded and grabbed the fork, picked up some pasta with it and brought it to his mouth. Roger shut his eyes and chewed “So good,” he hummed and opened his eyes again. You gave him another forkful and he ate it. “Why are you so good to me?” He asked and you froze for a second before feeding him again.

“You’re good to me. You lookout for me and stuff.” You vaguely explained, you’d become too emotional if you went into too much detail- especially seeing him in such a state. “You want a tank top to sleep in?” You asked as he finished off the bowl. Roger nodded and you headed to get one after helping him with his glass of water to swallow his painkiller tablets. “Try not to move too much, I’ll do most of the work.” You said as you removed his bloodied t-shirt. He groaned a little as he moved but you managed to put one of your tank tops on him without causing him too much discomfort.

“Can you take off my jeans?” He asked and you felt your face suddenly heat up. “I’ll just sleep in my boxers and the top.” You nodded and with trembling fingers, undid his belt. “Have you done this before?” Roger teased with a cocky smirk “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled and peeled them off. They were covered with blood too.

“Sorry about your top,” he motioned at the blood stain “And your floor, and for disturbing your trash tv show…and for coming to you in such a state.” His face was drooping as well as his voice.

“You just gave me a bit of a fright, that’s all. I’ve never seen you like this before. It’s never been this bad.” You stood up and he stretched out on the couch. “But then again, you’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

Roger sadly smirked “Guess that’s all I am- trouble. A troubled troublemaker.” He dramatically added.

“That’s secretly been my nickname for you since we were kids. Roger ‘trouble’ Taylor.” You chuckled and Roger looked at you with a smile forming on his face. “Ever since we snuck into Mrs Greene’s garden to get the ball back and you kicked right through her fence instead of climbing over like me.”

“I remember that! Her dog chased me because it got through the hole I’d made!” He laughed and then groaned, clutching his ribcage. Your smile fell at the sight of the almost broken man- the almost broken man that you loved- on your sofa at eleven at night. Roger saw the concern on your face. “I’m okay, the painkillers are kicking in a bit.” He pulled out the tampon in his nose. “Fuck! That did work!” He exclaimed in amazement.

You smugly grinned “Told you! Anyway, I’ll grab you another glass of water.” You quickly cleaned up and got him another glass. “Hey, do you-” you cut yourself off. Roger was fast asleep and little snoring noises left his mouth. You quietly placed down the glass on the table across from him and then fetched another two painkillers incase he needed them during the night. You grabbed him a blanket and tucked him up in a safe, warm cocoon. Your fingers found themselves brushing away the hair on his forehead. “My troublemaker…” you softly cooed and he stirred a little and the snoring stopped. “I’ll always love you, no matter how much trouble you get yourself into.”

You turned off the tv and headed to your own bed after wiping up the dots of blood on your wooden flooring in the hall. You then changed into fresh clothes that weren’t covered in Roger’s blood and tried to get some sleep. Tried. Your mind was racing thanks to Roger.

•••

The next morning after a broken nights sleep you woke up hearing loud rustling and banging noises. You squinted your tired eyes and looked at the clock- it was eight in the morning. If it was Roger making all that noise it shocked you- he was never up this early. A few minutes later, there was a knock on your bedroom door and you called him in after rubbing any remnants of dried tears on your cheeks. “Hey,” he grinned and you managed to smile back despite seeing his bruises blossoming into deeper shades on his face. He was carrying a tray “Made you breakfast- well I put cereal in a bowl…” he lowly laughed and you sat up in your bed.

Roger placed the tray on your lap, his face remaining close to yours. Roger leaned forward and pecked your temple, the gesture made you blink with shock. “Uh…thank you.”

“It’s the least I could do. You took care of me.”

You smiled “I’ll always do that for you, Rog.”

He grinned before shuffling on the spot “Is it alright if I go in for a bath or shower?”

“Of course!” You said after taking a mouthful of cereal. “A bath might be better. Soak your muscles. Are you still sore?”

“A bit, the painkillers helped. Thanks for leaving me more on the table.” A few moments of silence passed. “I really am sorry.”

“Stop apologising,” you got up out of bed “Give me a second to brush my teeth and freshen up then you can get into the bathroom.” You got up and got organised, quickly brushed your teeth whatnot before leaving Roger fresh, fluffy towels for him. When you left the bathroom, he went in. You changed into a black dress and put on the washer drier that was full of bloodied laundry and then did the dishes. You put the radio on to keep you company.

That was until the door was knocked on and you really did have company.

You dried off your hands and hurried to the door finding Freddie, John and Brian on the other side. “Is he here?” Brian asked and you nodded, letting them all in. “We’ve tried his place, our next guess was here.” Your brow creased ever so slightly. Were you and Roger that predictable? “Where his he? Sleeping?”

“He’s just in the bath. Were you with him last night?” You asked while receiving cheek kisses from them.

“We were,” John said and you went though to the living room. “He disappeared after getting into an argument with-” Freddie loudly cleared his throat and John shut himself up.

Your brows furrowed “Argument with who?” They all avoided your sharp gaze. Anger and worry was beginning to bubble inside you. “You better tell me who it was because he turned up here late last night covered in blood and bruises! I was beside myself with worry! Barely slept a wink!” You snapped with watery eyes and the three boys went wide-eyed at the revelation.

“We didn’t know that! Is he okay?!” Freddie asked.

“I managed to patch him up, he was so bad that I asked if he wanted to go to the hospital but he said no.” You sighed “Who hurt him?” Your voice was scarily calm and they all gulped at the tone.

“Richard Roberts…” Brian finally revealed.

You groaned and rubbed your temples “My ex? The one we call 'Dick the dick’?” They nodded “Why?”

Before they could give you an answer, Roger came in. “Y/N, I used your blue bath bomb but then my nose started bleeding again so I got out the tub and used another tampon. I can’t believe how-” he froze seeing eight pairs of eyes on him. John tried not to laugh at the sight of Roger with a tampon stuffed up his nose but then he saw the severity of his other injuries. The drummer gulped feeling like a kid who had stole a handful of sweets. “What did you tell her?”

“Enough to enrage me more than I already am…” you gritted out.

Roger had only heard that tone a few times from you- it was deadly. He tried to lighten the mood- your mood. “Why are you dressed in all black? Going to a funeral?” He joked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, you were highly unimpressed and unamused. “Yeah! Yours! Because I’m going to kill you!” You yelled and everyone flinched. “Why him, Rog?! Why that tosser?!” Roger looked at his bandmates, silently asking them to give the two of you some alone time.

“Y/N, hope to see you on Friday at the bar!” Freddie gave you a quick hug “Please go easy on him…” he whispered in your ear. You let out a sigh and tried to reassure him that you wouldn’t with a tiny smile. “See you both soon! Roger- take care!” He waved and the three left your flat. It suddenly became very quiet.

“Well?” You asked.

Roger slowly walked around and sat down on your sofa, he motioned you to sit next to him. “You know, I didn’t mean to end up like this,” he gestured at the bruises and cuts. “But I’m just trouble! He was slagging you off and I wasn’t going to stand for it! God, you deserved so much better than him! You’re so smart, witty, brave, independent, did I mention smart? Well if I didn’t you are…you’re also really funny, plus you’re gorgeous- even more than gorgeous! Beautiful! Why were you ever with him? He was a dick! You’re like a walking goddess or something.” He rambled.

“Roger!” You laughed and took his hand with blushing cheeks. “I’m thankful you stood up for me- and for saying such sweet things- but I’m not happy that it got you into this mess!”

Roger lazily grinned “I’d fight and fall to the ground for you a thousand- no a million- times if I had to…”

Your heart fluttered at his words “I’d pick you up and patch you up every time.” You whispered before quickly adding “But I’d make sure you wouldn’t be getting into a fight in the first place!” You pointed a finger at him while standing up, he just laughed. “Your washing is almost done, I’ll make you some lunch.”

•••

Roger stayed with you that night again, the pair of you were on the couch watching your trash tv show. You were in your pyjamas and Roger had borrowed another one of your tank tops with his freshly washed boxers. “What’s this even about anyway?” Roger asked “Bring me up to speed.”

“Well those two are best friends but are in love with each other- neither of them see that though. Everyone else does.” You pointed at the two characters onscreen. “They’ve been friends for years, just been hiding their true feelings from one another. It’s frustrating to watch.” 'And feel…’ you thought while looking at Roger. “Anyway they are always getting into bother, arguments, funny situations and he’s always getting into trouble but they still always love each other deeply.”

“They’re a bit like us,” Roger mindlessly uttered and your eyes shot open. It then hit him what he had said. “I mean like the best friend and trouble bit!” He nervously clarified with a laugh and you joined in, your own laugh just as fake and nervy. “Not the…” he lamely gestured “The other bits…”

“Right…” you forced a grin.

“Yeah…right…” he uttered out.

You glanced over at the clock- it was passed midnight. “I’m going to head to bed and get some sleep. You’re more than welcome to stay up and watch tv or help yourself to anything in the fridge.” You stood up and ruffled his hair “Night, Rog.”

“Night, Y/N.” Roger quietly said and watched as you disappeared into your room. You fell into your bed with a long sigh and then buried yourself under the covers. Your eyes were wide open, you couldn’t sleep, there was too many thoughts running through your mind. Especially all of Roger’s compliments earlier. Around thirty minutes later you still hadn’t fell asleep. Your door creaked open and you squinted your eyes in the darkness “Y/N?” Roger whispered.

“Everything okay?” You asked, sitting up in bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he reassured. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up. Can’t sleep.” You sighed.

Roger nodded but you couldn’t see as your room was drenched with darkness. “Me either…” he quietly admitted. “Can I come in beside you for a bit?”

You and Roger had shared a bed before multiple times but the older you got and the more your feelings developed, the harder it became not to fall in love with him more. Waking up wrapped in his arms was the best feeling in the world- it was something you wanted to feel every day.

You invited him in without words. Roger heard you throw back the covers and he leaned across to turn on the fairy lights that were tied around your bed frame. However, the battery was running out so only shone as half as bright as they used to. But they were still bright enough for you to make out all of Roger’s features. He climbed in and the dip he created made you roll towards him. Roger smirked and you tried to move back but he held you close. You brought your hand to his face “Does it hurt?” You asked tracing your fingers over his bruised cheek.

“Not right now…” he managed to smile. “Not when I’m here with you.” Your heart skipped a beat feeling his lips press against your forehead. He moved back ever so slightly to get a proper look of you. “I heard you crying last night.” He sounded sad and you felt a bit like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Why were you crying?”

“Was just worried about you. You were pretty beaten up- still are!” Roger managed to lightheartedly chuckle. “I was just worried.”

“I’m worried too…” Roger whispered, although he thought he was quiet enough for you not to hear him but you did.

“What are you worried about?” You asked, furrowing a brow.

“Everything.”

Roger’s vague response was even quieter than before. “You might have to be a bit more specific. I don’t do my best thinking at-” you turned and glanced at the clock. “One in the morning!” You let out a breathy chuckle.

Roger smiled “I’ve always loved your laugh.” He cupped your cheeks “Always loved your smiles, your stubbornness, your sarcasm- I’ve almost pissed myself laughing at some of the stuff you say.” You let out a loud laugh, not caring about your neighbours at this point. “Always loved you.”

Not many things that Roger said or did took you off guard but that certainly did. “What did you say?”

Roger looked deep into your eyes, despite the surrounding skin of one of his turning a shade of purple. “I’ve always loved you. More- way more- than a friend. I love you in like a 'Can we kiss in front of our friends just to make them gag at how lovey dovey we are’ and a 'Am I allowed to kiss you whenever’ sort of love.” He said you widely smiled with tears brimming your eyes. “A kind of love where I’d give you all of me…and the trouble that follows me…for the rest of my life.”

“Oh, Roger,” you cupped his face and both of you closed the gap between the pair of you. “I love you. Always have. I’ll give you all of me and I’ll happily have all of you.” You both shared a long awaited kiss. “I’ll take you- trouble and all.”

•••

After picking up more clothes for himself, Roger stayed at yours again the following night. You sat snuggled up together on the sofa and watched your trash show again.

The two onscreen characters finally kissed.

——————————

Tags- (Tag list is open! Just let me know if you want to be tagged or not or if I’ve forgotten to tag you!) 

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[sicills]

Mr. Big Orange

     When I landed in Latvia, the first thing I know is that… I was all alone, a small girl in a wool sweater standing by the bus stop. Then I saw my host mother walking across the brick street with a huge smile on her face. We greeted each other, after that the terrible journey to our apartment began! I had to drag my suitcase through the street, and finally after carrying my stuff up to the fourth floor of our apartment I couldn’t say anything because my heart was pumping too hard.

     Then my mom opened the door and the huge Labrador dog jumped on me and licked everything she could reach. My mom put her away and after that little chaos… I saw a small orange ball of fur peeking from behind the plant pot. Those green eyes look so curious. There he was, the only gentleman of the house. After that I have a roommate named Miķelis. 

     First three weeks in a new environment, I could say that I spent days and nights with him since I was new in town and I had no places to go. After class I just went straight to my room. There was usually no one there because my sister always took the dog and hung out with her friends after school, and my mom always worked until late night. So, there was always two of us, me and Mr. Big orange. We spent time together talking, napping, and watching movies, news or whatever that came up even though I didn’t understand Latvian and he didn’t have any clue about Thai. Then, we ate together in our kitchenette. Whatever I did Miķelis will always be there observing and deep down inside I knew that he felt lonely too to be left home alone everyday. 

     There was one sweater of mine. The very same sweater that I wore on the first day we met and he loved it so much. He was willing to be wherever that sweater was, on the floor, in the basket or on me… he will find his way to sleep on it no matter what. 

     Time flew and I felt like just yesterday that I unpacked, but today I was packing again. Next 20 hours I will be back in Thailand and by the time I packed my sweater, Mr. Big orange also jumped in my suitcase too. I didn’t remember much, but I cried so much that Miķelis’s thick fur got damp. I just sat on the floor next to my suitcase hugging my cat and cried quietly. Miķelis didn’t even move. He just stayed in my arms and allowed me to hug him for the last time. The day that I left, I left with a lot of memories, but I remember that I also left my love for him as well as that wool sweater.As a shelter for him when he felt lonely like he helped me when I felt so.   

[ourladyhart]

Ethical Gift Giving (But On A Budget)

I stumbled across this today and I absolutely love it! This is a fantastic chart to get you thinking about ways you can give during the holiday season whilst reducing our future impact on the environment and get creative at the same time. Definitely a win/win!

I have a couple of extra tips to add for those of us on a low income or those who are on a tight budget. The holiday season can be particularly tough when you’re living below the poverty line or are barely making your pay check stretch month to month. It can make us feel excluded or even ashamed of ourselves; and whilst this couldn’t be further from the truth – you are so valid regardless of your financial position – there are lots of different ways that you can still give and feel included with little to no funds.

Give Memories: Lovely photo frames are easily found at $2 shops or op shops; and if you don’t have access to a printer, you can print from your phone or USB at Kmart for about 10 cents a print. Our generation often forgets how nice it is to have physically framed photos and getting a photo that means a lot to your friend or family is a beautiful personal touch.

Total cost: Less than $5

Experience days don’t have to be a trip to the movies, an escape room or ice skating, and the cost of these activities can rack up quickly. Instead, you can make a “movie day” at home for you and a friend. You could even give them this gift in the form of a handmade “IOU 1 Movie Day”. Set up a picnic on the living room floor and watch your favourite movie together. You can also bake together or get some cheap snacks from the supermarket whilst you both veg out.

Total cost: Less than $10

Give Your Time:

I love this one! Again, you could hand make cute vouchers for these, “1 Day of Helping You Organise Your Wardrobe” or “1 Day of Building Your Website”, etc etc.

Remember, in this busy day and age sometimes all we want is actually just time spent with the people we love; and your company is often enough. If your friend suffers from chronic pain or a mental illness; they may love some help with cleaning. Perhaps they don’t often eat a home cooked meal and you could whip something up for them. These actions are often invaluable.

Total cost: Free – Your time

Upcycle:

Well you know this one is absolutely going to be my favourite! I am huge on street finds and items I procure; fixing them up and then passing them on. You can often find great items of furniture or knick knacks in council clean ups. It’s a good idea to check out when the next dates will be in your area; so you can get ready for some “late night shopping”!

If friends give me hand me down items throughout the year, they often come with “Oh, it was almost perfect, but…”. I listen to what they didn’t like about the original item then give it a total up cycle before giving it back to them. It’s often a lovely delight! My favourite of these was when an old flatmate gave me a sad looking lamp. I gave it a really good Tiki Bar sort of look (which she was obsessed with) and gave it back for Christmas. To this day, it’s her favourite object she owns.

Total cost: Free – $50 depending on which materials you use

I’m going to add three of my own sections in here:

Re-Gift:

We all get gifts throughout the year that we’re not sure why they were gotten for us but you’re not really sure what to do with. SAVE THESE ALL! I put all mine in a bag or box in my laundry so when Christmas time comes round, you’ve already got a haul of presents to give. My husband and I often get thank you gifts of alcohol from the community, but neither of us drink. Other people certainly do though and this is a lovely gift for people who do drink to receive.

I know there is a bit of controversy on re-gifting, but I know if I gave a gift that wasn’t quite right, I would love for it to be passed on to someone who could truly appreciate it.

Total Cost: Free

Save The Accessories:

I can’t recommend hanging onto gift bags, used wrapping paper, birthday candles, banners, and cards throughout the year. You can even ask friends or family at the end of their parties if you can have the gift bags or wrapping if they’re going to just throw them out. This saves SO MUCH money each year on having to buy new wrapping equipment, and it’s readily on hand when you need it. If you haven’t been doing this already, start now and put them in with your re-gifting stash for the end of each year. You’ll thank me next Christmas!

Total Cost: Free

Ask:

Your friends and family probably have a whole heap of storage stuff they haven’t been through in ages; and once they do will be looking to unload a lot of stuff. I love to help my friends organise their stuff in exchange for anything they want to give me. The old adage “Ask and you shall receive” is gold here, so pop on your thrifty hat and don’t be afraid to ask those around you if they’ve got anything they want to get rid of.

Total Cost: Free or Time

Buy Second Hand:

Op shops are my definitely jam, with about 95% of my clothes being second hand. My wedding dress was a $45 vintage dress from Vinnies Newtown.

Op Shops (or Thrift Shops for our American friends) are TREASURE TROVES of second hand trinkets, clothes, furniture, and weird things you can only imagine. Give yourself plenty of time to wonder around and let objects or clothes let themselves known to you.

Boutique antique stores can often come with a boutique price tag, but you can find just as wonderful vintage and antique pieces at markets or throughout op shops.

eBay and Gumtree are also great places to find items for a lot cheaper than RRP prices and you can often barter for a lower price or find something similar for a lot less.

Total Cost: $2 plus, depending on what you’re after

Make: One of the most sentimental gifts I made was with a $2 ball of wool and some knitting needles. I sat night after night and knitted my friend a scarf for her birthday. Along with it, I included a beautiful note about how the scarf helped me with my recovery after a hospital stay in June; and that I wanted her to always be warm and cosy. She wore it every day of Winter this year! Other things I’ve made over the years for gifts include hats (of course!), costume pieces, spell jars / spell kits often for success and love, candles, cookies, paintings and general pretty things.

Cooking or baking makes a lot of treats for minimal bucks. You can bake up a large batch of cookies, and even save a bit more cash by buying recipe boxes when they’re on sale at the supermarket. Decorate them then pop some into a tie up bag, it’s a super cute and delicious gift!

Total Cost: $2 plus, depending on what you make

Buy:

Finally, if you must buy; buy independently. Buy from small businesses, buy from artists. Your money will be funding groceries for another week for a family, or maybe even a special treat like going to the movies or purchasing new towels. Buy compassionately and support those who need it most. I can promise you the gift of support you give to these businesses and artists will cause the biggest smiles for Christmas; and that’s what spreading the true joy of the season is all about.

Bonus Tip!

You can also save money on feeding the masses by opting for food options designed to feed a lot of people at once. Meals like spaghetti bologanise, BBQ, pizza, rice and so forth may not be typically Christmassy; but they will stretch to feed a lot for less.

You can also ask everyone to bring a dish and then all the guests can share a bounty of food whilst keeping in with the community spirit.

Total Cost: $5 plus depending on what you make

[burtatethebees]

January4, 2020

Happy New Year!

I spent news years with my sister in her trailer in the woods with her friends from Conserve, Ian, Cecelia, Eli, and Chris. Ian is really funny and kinda hot. In my Smart Brain, I know that this is the typical period in a friendship with a guy where I’m infatuated with them, but my Stupid Brain says he would hold me very good. 

We went into downtown Athens on the first day of three. We played Ultimate frisbee in a historic field at UGA. I ran a lot, which was a really bad idea cause I’m really fragile. I was sore in my hip for the rest of the night and my while legs for the rest of the weeks. Ian and Eli took their shirts off to play, who knows why truely, but it was a little hot. Eli is kinda Thicc and not my type, but Ian is My Type. He’s my heightish, a little bit taller, so like 5′ 7-8″. He’s got abs and is just all around Lean and Strong. His veins on his arms are really nice. I don’t know why that's hot to so many girls, but I’m not complaining about it. 

Yeah but later that night we left the field and walked around downtown. We were gonna get Ian to pretend to be a psychic and get some money, but Jay shoved the sign in a little garden for us to get later and we never went back. We went into a cool boutique/junk store. I was browsing and Jay almost left me there, like if I hadn’t heard her say to the clerk that it was good to see them again I wouldn’t have noticed they left the building. We went to Waffle House, but I couldn't finish my food so I gave it to Ian. The lady working there was sassy. We met up with Shazam, as mom calls him, after Waffle house. We walked around some more and then Jay asked Shazam if he was parked at a meter or free parking, so we had to go check. The whole group kinda separated on accident. Ian and Chris ran off to slide down some rails. Eli and I went off to go with them, and Jay, Cecelia, and Shazam went to go find his truck. Ian and Chris saw that Jay was leaving and decided to run away after the rest of the group. Eli and I chased after them but we lost them cause they probably pulled some spiderman move and were jumping across rooftops or something. So Eli and I got lost. We went back to the Waffle house cause that's kinda the direction they were going to get to Shazam’s truck. 

We went back to the field after we moved Shazam’s truck to free parking. We played some more frisbee. Jay ran into Ian trying to catch the frisbee and got a bloody nose. She couldn’t drive so when we left Chris drove the minivan back home. Eli and Ian were gonna come with us, but they decided to walk home, like weirdos. It took them like an hour and a half. Chris accidentally drove the whole four miles with the parking brake on, totally fucking up the brake in the process. At one point he asked “why is the brake light on?” but my brain didn't process what that meant and so I didn't say anything. He doesn’t use the parking brake on his car so he didn’t know what it meant. 

When we got home, we went into the camper and Jay gave Shazam his Christmas present. He got a Llama Popper which shot foam ball out of a llama mouth. We killed time until Eli and Ian got back.

We hung out around the fire that Jay built. I sat on a wool blanket next to Ian. I wish that I knew them better so I could have sat closer and perhaps, maybe, cuddled a little. He did with Chris and Eli. We went into the camper after a little bit to watch movies. We watched Shameless, which I was really not into. We lied on the floor on the camper, I WAS between Cecelia and Ian but Jay cut in and told Ian to move over. Lame ass, cockblock lol. I left after a little bit and sat in my tent for a bit. I came back and just kinda chilled on my phone until the countdown for New Years. We went outside for the countdown. We were all huddled cause it was Very cold. I stood next to Ian. My Stupid Brain wanted to kiss him. 

We went back inside and watched Love, Death, and Robots. I watched it all but I’m not into it. It was really gory and there was a lot of animated dicks. Ian likes the show. When it was 2 am I went back out to my tent to go to sleep. I had to spend like five minutes combing my hair because it got so tangled from the hat I was wearing that day. I went to sleep and had a dream vaguely about love.

The next morning I woke up at 8. I was the only one up in the main area. Shazam was up and came done a little after I woke up. I helped him build a fire. When the rest woke up we fucked around killing time for a few hours. Ian made tea in a wine bottle on the open fire. Ian, Chris, Eli, and Shazam had a wood-splitting contest. Ian kept putting random shit in the fire. Cecelia and I hung out in Chris’ hammock. We eventually went back into town and got nachos. This was the beginning of a shitshow. I put in 5$ for the nachos since Jay got one with chicken and no pepper or onions for me. I went to the bathroom cause there aren't any real ones at her camper. When I got back nearly all the nachos were gone. The boys had vacuumed them up in like 5 minutes. I was hungry but too much of a pussy to get up and order my own taco. Now, in retrospect, I have NO IDEA why I didn’t. So I condemned myself to be hungry for like five hours. We left the taco stand and wandered around Athens for a while. We went to a construction site. We lost Cecelia and none of the others seemed to be worried about her. They finally realized what could have happened to her like half an hour later so we went to go find her. We found her at a Subway. 

Ian needed a suitcase so we went to a thrift store. I finally got some flannels, but I was still pissed so I didn’t really talk to the rest of the group for a while. I told Jay how I felt and she told me “too bad”. So that sucked. I bought my flannels and we left. We went to a Graveyard and I stormed off but decided I didn’t want to get lost so I went back. We used Ian’s spirit box to talk to some ghosts. We tried in two different locations. They were really active in the second place. I don't know who we were talking to, but I was nice cause I got to sit really close to Ian so I could hear the box. After we were done, we lied down in the leaves by the grave we were sitting next to. The group, excluding me, all pile on each other, but I felt like I didn’t know them well enough to do that. I lied perpendicular to Ian with my head on his chest/arm, which was Very Nice. We listen to a true-crime podcast, but we had to stop cause there were footsteps and Cecelia and I got spooked. It turned out to be a deer, but we left soon after. 

We went dumpster-diving. We drove around a plaza cause Jay wanted to find Michael’s. They stopped at the Starbuck and got bounced to go get me some food finally. I got Willy’s. I shouldn’t have gotten the adobe chicken, I normally do, but this location was much spicier. While I was eating Ian pulled up and adventure AI. Eli chose the options and Ian read them. He was a mental patient and summoned some demons, burned to death, met god, and woke up. He ate the toes of some lady and then ate her whole body. Then the story ended. 

We went back home. We sat around the fire at the Kitchen Pavilion and listened to Podcasts. We listened to something Eli had about getting kidnapped into a meat factory, it was really funny, and Welcome To Nightvale. Then we all kinda drifted off back to camp and fell asleep.

I woke up early again the next day. The ground was wet so I didn’t want to sit down, so I just stood and zoned out stared at the trees. I went back to my tent cause I was kinda cold, but Ian and Cecelia woke up right after so I came back out. Ian told me he saw me kinda just staring at the trees, which means he was watching me at least a little from the camper. They sat in Chris’ hammock under the rainfly. It looked like and leaf. Ian told me to tell him a deep, dark secret like it was a confessional. I instantly went to “I think you’re hot as hell.” but I didn’t say that, obviously. So I told them that I think Angie is gonna drop me in the new year. I complained about the color guard at school and told them how the Horticulture club is gonna try to take over another club. I had a lot of fun talking to them, but then Jay woke up. We fucked around for a while and then got stuff together to leave. We packed into the car and left. At this point, it was just me, Jay, Chris, Ian, and Cecelia. We went to Brent’s house. On the way there they talked about stuff they did at conserve. They took the BDSM test I guess, so Ian asked Jay What she got. Chris was top 2, dom and sadist, which he doesn't look like at all, but it’s always the ones you don’t suspect. Ian didn’t say, I wish he had. I took it in the car while they were talking. I got Brat and primal (prey) as my top two. I REALLY wish Ian had said what he got. 

 I am not a big fan of being at Brent’s place since it was my Grandpa’s house. Brent is changing everything and he got two roommates. The whole house smells like cigs. The art is different. So I started tearing up almost as soon as we got there. It was the first time I had been back there since we came to get furniture, and only the 2nd time I had been there after Grandpa died. I started texting my mom about how I was sad. She called me and I went outside and cried to her. I hung up and composed myself enough to come back inside. Mom called Jay and told her how I felt. I was gonna try to catch Jay before she came back inside so I could talk to her. I cried again outside on her shoulder. She told me we would go home soon. She called me her baby sister in front of her friends again, which I don’t like. We sat in a circle and chatted, I forget about what. I felt better while I was distracted. Brent woke up eventually. We played a lot of foosball. 

We went home eventually to my house. We sat in the basement and watched some sexy anime, then murder stories. We moved on to conspiracy theories. Ian suggested a show called Undone. I liked it but we stopped watching after two episodes cause they kept talking over it. They started talking about shit I didn’t understand so I went upstairs and cried cause I felt left out. My mom let me cry to her for like 20 minutes, then I ate some soup and felt better. I didn’t want to go back down cause they were talking about shared-stores and I wouldn’t have been included. I texted Jay about how I felt and she apologized. I went to sleep and missed them all leaving in the morning by like 20 minutes. I was sad about that but I followed Ian on Insta, so we’re good. He followed me back and I sent him some memes. He liked them :). 

Yesterday I played a lot of video games to recover from camping. I read some good ass fanfic too. There was one with Levi from Attack on Titan, which I’ve recently gotten into. After my grandpa died I came home and devoured a lot of shows from my queue in Funimation, then I started reading it in the school library. So anyway, the fic was about Levi and his cadet girlfriend. The Reader accidentally gets a shot of essentially a pregnancy imitating drug. So she and Levi can't fuck because she’s super fertile. She starts lactating because of the drug and so she needs Levi to drink the milk from her to stop it from hurting. Hot as fuck, hell yeah. 

Weird to go from Epic SMut to Family Time but in the afternoon, we went to have lunch with Shauna and Tala. Tala’s 5th birthday was on the 29th and we hadn’t seen her. We got her some belated Christmas/Birthday presents. She thought the Creatures of Star Wars book was for her little brother, Eliot (9 months). I built her Frozen lego set for her and we played Elsa and Ana. We went upstairs to her room to play Calico Critters. That didn't last long, oh the attention span of a five-year-old. We played animal battle, which was just us throwing stuffed animals at each other. Justin came up to say hey and totally annihilated me and Tala with stuffed cat toys. We left after that.

 I wish I could see Eliot and Tala more often. When Tala was a baby we were with her constantly. We babysat her like three times a week. She loves me so much. She’s the sweetest little girl. Eliot is really clingy right now. He doesn’t let anyone but Shauna hold him and he hates to be out of eyeshot of her. I want to hold him. 

We went to see Cats that afternoon. It was ok. Not as bad as people have been saying, but it wasn't Good. It kinda just exists. I am ashamed to say it but I kinda thought that Mr. Mistoffelees was kinda hot. Just the way he acted. I like guys who are kinda sad and lonely. I guess I’m a furry. Shit happens.

Today I woke up and read a fic about Kylo Ren (RIP) totally destroying his assistant and breaking up her engagement just he wants to smash. Hot. 

I went to my Grandma’s with my dad. I drove there. That was the longest I’ve ever driven and also the biggest road I’ve driven on. We took down her Christmas Deco and looked through a lot of old cookbooks and recipes from the 70′s. She gave me some and Dad wants to put together a cookbook with O’Neil recipes. I think that’s cool. I got some recipe cards for Christmas from Dad, so I’m gonna start my own recipe box. 

Our dryer caught on fire this evening. That was fun. We’re having some money issues, so I don’t know how we’re gonna replace it. I’m just glad I did all my laundry this morning. 

[synkiller82]

Collapse Into Me Chapter 16 - Stitch

“What do you think, Tikki?” Marinette asked as she walked around the dress form one more time.  She had just finished Alya’s dress for the Winter Formal—a floor-length jade silk A-line gown with an off-the-shoulder surplice neckline.  Alya had picked the fabric herself a year ago while on a shopping trip with Marinette, knowing the designer would make something fabulous with it.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette!” Tikki confirmed, twirling in the air.  “I can’t believe you finished it so quickly!”

Marinette had only been working on completing the gown for about two weeks, but the pattern was done months ago.  All that was left was the final fitting and the second of three outfits would be complete.  Nino already had his outfit—a white single-breasted suit and a white dress shirt with a tie and vest set that were made from the same fabric as Alya’s dress.  She took the dress off the form, placed it in a garment bag, and hung it up before proceeding to start on the third, and possibly final, outfit she had to make for the dance.  She hadn’t had been able to talk to Adrien about making his suit before he was sent on a surprise trip to Milan.  

She sighed heavily at the thought of his impromptu trip.  It had been four days since she last saw Adrien in person and she was beginning to have withdrawals.  She didn’t notice how much time she had been spending with Adrien until he wasn’t there.  Sure, they face-timed every night, but it wasn’t the same.  She couldn’t wait until tomorrow when she would see him at school again.

Marinette had been so lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice Tikki dashing to her hiding place or the hatch to her room opening.  She jumped and fell into her dress form as she was startled by the voice of the very person she had been thinking of.

“Marinette,” Adrien called as he ascended the stairs into her room and ran over when he saw her fall.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What—Why—How—” Marinette sputtered as she stared wide-eyed at the boy in front of her.  “I thought you were in Milan until tomorrow.”

Adrien shrugged and offered a hand to help her up.  “Nathalie told me last night we were leaving early this morning.  I didn’t want to say anything in case it was changed again.”  He used her hand to pull her into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her as he buried his face in her neck.  “I missed you so much.”

Marinette returned the gesture quickly and with just as much fervor.  “I missed you too.”  She reveled in the warmth of his embrace until he slowly let her go.  She turned to pick up her dress form.  “So, how was the trip?  You were really vague all week.”

Adrien again shrugged as he helped her steady the form.  “Wow, Marinette.  What is this for?”  He asked, holding a piece of the ice-blue brocade fabric hanging off the form.

“I’m working on my dress for the dance,” she answered, worried that he had changed the subject, but didn’t push.  “My sketchbook is open to it if you want to see what it’ll look like when it’s done.”

Adrien walked over to her desk and took a seat in the desk chair.  He looked over the open page of her pad and marveled at the outfits she had designed.  He could see each one was drawn with not only the person’s silhouette, but also their taste and personality in mind.  The first two were Alya’s simple green dress and Nino’s white suit.  Below those was her dress -- an ice blue brocade v-neck dress with a low v in the back and a thick ice-blue snowflake-patterned organza border.  The organza also came up the front of the skirt, which had a slight hi-low hem that would show off whatever shoes were worn.  A thin silver belt completed her design.

“Who’s this one for?” Adrien inquired as he pointed to the suit beside Marinette’s dress.

“Oh, that.  It’s ahh--” Marinette stammered when she saw where he was pointing.  “It was just an idea for a suit to match my dress.  I guess I got carried away while I was sketching.”

“Do you have time to make it?” Adrien implored as he looked at her hopefully.  “I would much rather wear something you designed and made than something Father did.”

Marinette stood there blinking her wide eyes at him, completely stunned.  “Are you sure you can?”  

Adrien nodded.  “I’ll talk to Nathalie about it, but I’m sure Father would be interested to see your work, and I would love to wear a Marinette Dupain-Cheng original.”

“If you think it would be okay, then yeah, I have the time.  I mean, I already finished Alya and Nino’s, so that only leaves mine.”  She walked over to look through her fabric.  “I will have to go get the fabric, since I wasn’t really planning on making it--”

“Then let’s go,” Adrien exclaimed as he jumped out of Marinette’s desk chair and grabbed her hand.  “Your mom said you’ve been up here every minute you haven’t been at school this week and you need a break.”

Marinette followed Adrien downstairs and to his waiting car to head out in search of the perfect fabrics.  She picked out a beautiful wool silk blend fabric in a light grey that had the slight shimmer she was looking for, a light grey bemberg fabric for lining the suit, more fabric for the button-down shirt and all the assorted threads and buttons she would need.  She started to argue when he insisted he pay for her purchases, but quickly gave in when she saw how happy it made him.

---

After having dinner with her parents, Marinette and Adrien went back up to her room.  It was too late for her to continue working on her dress, so she settled for making sure the measurements she had for Adrien were correct.  It concerned her that his numbers had gone down by about half an inch, as he was already pretty thin when she took his measurements for last year’s school play about six months ago.  She decided to not say anything, however, as she knew it was a touchy subject for him.

“So, what do you want to do?  We only have about three hours before you have to go,” Marinette inquired as they sat on the chaise.

“Do you mind if we just watch a movie?  I don’t really want to think right now.”  Adrien stated quietly.  

Marinette nodded and stood to get her laptop.  She returned and Adrien curled up with her, his arms a little tighter than normal.  She snuggled in and set the laptop to play Lilo and Stitch.

“Adrien, is everything okay?” Marinette whispered as the opening credits played, gently running a hand through his hair.  

He sighed and shook his head.  He should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to play it off with her.  “I’m just upset about having to go to Milan, as well as stressed about fashion week.”  He pulled her closer and nuzzled into her shoulder.  “I didn’t really do anything on the trip I couldn’t have done here.  That was annoying enough, but Father gets overly critical of everything right now, including me.”  He sighed and linked his hand in hers.  “Up until now, I haven’t had anyone I could confide in about the stress and fear of letting Father down.  Knowing that you are here for me has made things easier this year.”  He paused to look up at her.  “So I asked Father if I could invite you to the opening gala for Fashion Week and he agreed.  He was actually going to offer the invitation anyway.”

Marinette’s mind short-circuited for the third time that day.  Gabriel wants her to attend the opening gala to Fashion Week?  Was this a good thing?  It would be a great boost to her career, being able to talk to all the big names in fashion, but what about her statement to Gabriel about not riding the coattails of his family? She had meant it when she said it at dinner, so would this count?

“I don’t know, Adrien,” Marinette started hesitantly.  “I meant what I said about not wanting to use you to get into the fashion world and --”

“Marinette,” Adrien called softly as he stopped her with a finger placed gently against her mouth.  “You would be doing no such thing.  I want you there, as my date.  It would make everything much more bearable to have you with me all night.”

Marinette’s resolve crumbled at his words and the soft expression he was giving her.  “Alright,” she conceded.  “But what would I wear?  I don’t have anything worthy and nowhere near enough time to put something together.”

Adrien grinned, “Father designed something specifically for you.  He asked that I bring you by tomorrow for a fitting.”

Marinette didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry.  This night just kept getting better.  She was going to the fashion event of the season, on the arm of the most handsome boy in the world, wearing a Gabriel original?  She could die happy now.

“That sounds great,” she whispered, giving him a kiss on his forehead.  They settled back in and watched the movie, content in each other’s company.

---

Marinette sat in the car the next afternoon, nervous about their destination.  Adrien reached over and placed his hand on hers, trying to help calm her as they pulled into Gabriel headquarters.  She was here to be fitted in the dress she would wear to her first official appearance with Adrien.

They entered the building and were led to two separate rooms by Nathalie.  Marinette timidly stepped into the room and her world stopped.  On the form in front of her was a scarlet ball gown with a sweetheart neckline.  The bodice was covered in crystals that stopped at the waistline, and placed sparsely around the skirt.  It was absolutely gorgeous, and Marinette was at a loss of words.

“Ah, you must be Marinette,” a woman called from behind the form.  Her brown hair was pulled into a French twist and her brown eyes hid behind glasses.  “I’m Monique and I will be fitting you today.”

“Hello,” Marinette answered shyly as she made her way over, still afraid to get close to the dress.  “Did you make this?”

“Mr. Agreste designed it, but I sewed it together,” Monique answered as she took the dress off the form and led Marinette to a dressing room.  “You can change here.  I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

After taking a moment to timidly run her hand over the dress, Marinette changed and returned to the main room.  Monique was standing by a raised platform in front of a three-way mirror.  Marinette kept her eyes on the floor until she made it to the dias.

“Please put these on, darling.  We need to make sure the hem will work,” Monique instructed as she handed Marinette a pair of red four-inch stilettos with the same crystals at the toes and heel, a thin strap going across the top of her foot to secure them.

Marinette slipped the shoes on and stepped onto the platform, still refusing to look at herself in the mirror.  She wasn’t ready to look, to believe that this was happening.

“You look exquisite, my dear,” Monique cooed as she moved around the dress, pulling and adjusting.  “It fits like a dream already.  Just a quick adjustment to the hem and it will be perfect.”

Marinette finally looked up and gasped.  She couldn’t believe the person staring back at her was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  The dress was fit for a princess, and the shoes were some of the most comfortable she had ever worn.  She slowly turned, watching the way the dress moved and caught the light.  It was gorgeous.

“Alright, my star.  Time to change so I can get the adjustments made.” Monique stated, moving Marinette toward the changing room and noting her slower movements.  “I’m guessing you’re not used to heels.”

Marinette shook her head.  “I’m honestly a klutz, so I stay in flats with maybe the occasional low heel.”

Monique nodded her understanding.  “We’ve all been there, my star.  I will find another pair similar to these so you can practice at home.  You will be walking like a princess in no time.”

Marinette changed back into her clothes and handed the dress back to Monique, still in awe that she was allowed to wear it.  True to her word, Monique had found a pair of black shoes identical to the red ones, minus the stones.  Marinette shrugged and put them on instead of her ballet flats.  She was just standing up when the door opened and Adrien entered, followed by Nathalie.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien greeted as he closed the distance and took her hand.  “How was the fitting?”

“It was wonderful.  Monique was great and the dress is gorgeous,” Marinette remarked as they made their way out.  She turned and waved, “Thank you again, Monique.”

The door closed and the pair followed Nathalie toward the entrance.  As they rode the elevator back to the main floor, Adrien leaned over and placed his head on Marinette’s shoulder, humming a little in content.  Marinette smiled as she felt him relax a bit more at the extra contact.  She decided she would master walking in high heels, noting it would be difficult with her klutz record, but it didn’t matter.  She knew without a doubt in her mind that Adrien would be there if she fell, ready to catch her as she was always ready to catch him.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 13 - Seed and Spark

Harry had called me four times. I wasn’t really the type of girl to ignore someone’s phone calls, but something about the scene in my bedroom made me completely unsure of how to even form sentences to speak to him.

I don’t think he was angry--I didn’t really know what he was--but anger wasn’t it. His texts were pleading and, after I ignored his fourth attempt to speak with me, he simply told me I could stay in his room tonight if I didn’t want to stay with Quinn.

Millie had a big cup of soda, which she always reminded me was actually called a fizzy drink, but in this moment, the last thing on my mind was assimilating to British culture--fourteen years had been long enough and some things would just never stick.

She held the cup up to her face, took a long sip through the red straw, and watched me. I think she was worried that I might explode--her eyes were just wide enough that I could tell her concern was real, but a good portion of the look on her face was likely due to shock.

“Harry has to talk her--I mean, he’s her boyfriend, he’s the one that actually needs to explain it all.”

“But I’m her roommate,” I sighed, letting my legs dangle over the side of Millie’s bed. Her room was a mess, which wasn’t completely like her. She’d been in the middle of doing laundry and trying to clean when I came crashing through the door, and I knew she’d just gotten back from dinner.

“Rubbish,” she shrugged. “He’s the one who’s been telling her he loves her for nearly a year. He’s gotta clean this one up.”

I tried to take a deep breath. My heart rate was still dangerously high, but luckily Millie had given me a sports bra and a t-shirt to put on. The wool of my coat had been itchy and hot.

I knew that Millie had a point--Harry was closer with Quinn than I was. In fact--despite the fact that I introduced the two of them--their relationship was completely none of my business and was something that they deserved to handle behind closed doors.

Except for the fact that I’ve been making out with Quinn’s boyfriend for three weeks and she just walked in on us.

Maybe Millie was right--maybe I should tell Harry that he needed to figure this out on his own, maybe I had to put the ball in his court. Millie slurped loudly at her drink and blinked at me.

“Do you think he knows that he has to talk to her?”

She laughed, throwing her head back and letting out one, short cackle. “He’s probably so bugged out right now that he’s pacing around in his room wondering what on Earth he should say to the both of you. It’s bad enough about Quinn but now you’re upset with him as well.”

I rolled my eyes--I was upset with Harry. I didn’t really know why and I knew it didn’t really make sense, but being locked out of my own bedroom with him and feeling like I didn’t have control over anything made me impossibly irate.

“I’m never leaving this room,” I groaned, spreading my arms out above my head. I could see the Florence and The Machine poster that Millie had above her bed, though upside down, it was hard to make out the words.

“Yes you are,” Millie said with swiftness. “You’re my best friend and I love you, but there’s no room for you here. You have a boyfriend with a large bed and invitation to sleep there.”

“Harry’s not my boyfriend,” I reminded her, sitting up to stare her in the eyes. She was moving pretty quickly from talking about Harry’s professed love for Quinn to his apparent new title. “He’s Quinn’s boyfriend. He’s not mine. He’s hers and he’s my friend.”

Millie sort of snorted at this, she smiled, but my anger deterred her a little. “He’s not Quinn’s boyfriend for long.”

I rolled my eyes, disappointed that she wasn’t on the same page. I had a burning feeling of guilt in my stomach because of all of it--the last thing I needed was for Mildred to be making jokes.

I understood that Quinn was upset. I mean, clearly, walking in on your boyfriend and roommate making out is a pretty wild experience, especially when it was me and Harry. If you thought about all the history Harry and I shared, you’d probably think that I was one of the safest girls for him to be around--he used to make jokes about the thought of me being romantically involved with anyone making him want to vomit.

Quinn had trusted me. Quinn had trusted Harry. We were two important people in her life and we lied to her for weeks because we were selfish and afraid and we couldn’t face the music.

Of course I wanted to make things right--I wish I could say all of this to Quinn and explain everything and just tell her that I do care about her, even if I didn’t act like it, but I don’t think she’ll be willing to listen to anything I have to say for the foreseeable future.

I watched Millie stand from her chair, cross back over to the pile of clothes on her floor, and continue cleaning. I hoped for a second that if I was quiet and if I closed my eyes, the mattress would swallow me whole.

**

Tierney’s apartment was freezing--apparently her radiator was busted and she’d been at Gemma’s all day due to the lack of heat in her flat. Now, however, she sat next to me on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and munched mindlessly on some chips.

Gemma had come over to say hi when I told them I was coming over, but she’d left to make the trek back to her own flat in order to go to sleep. Tierney, on the other hand, was willing to watch a movie with me when I told her I needed a distraction.

I’d told her Quinn was mad at me, but I didn’t say why. I didn’t know exactly how to explain that Quinn was mad at me because she caught me making out with her boyfriend, who also happened to be our family friend and the literal bane of my existence.

Tierney had always been nosey--so nosey, in fact, that I had to double lock my diary when I was in Year Seven because I caught her reading it twice. Tonight, though, she seemed only mildly interested in my current dilemma, at least, until I said something about Harry.

“What do you mean Harry is going to talk to her?”

I turned to see my sister’s blonde hair--it was pulled up in a bun on top of her head. She stared at me with curiosity, I knew I had almost blown it.

“Just--because, you know, he’s her boyfriend. Maybe he can talk some sense into her.”

“I don’t get what the fuck you’re talking about because you didn’t actually tell me what you did wrong.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at me with an annoyed look on her face.

I let out a sigh. Tierney had always been one for swearing, and my sour mood apparently was no exception. “I lied to her. She found out.”

“Lied to her about what?”

Jesus, Tierney. She really had no understanding of privacy.

“Her sweater.”

“Her sweater?” Tierney had her hand in the bag of chips but she stopped searching around for another handful.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I borrowed her sweater without asking--and then she saw me wearing it.”

“Oh,” she said. She pulled her head back and knit her brows together, still obviously confused about the issue.

“She would talk to me about the sweater and she said she couldn’t find it, and I didn’t tell her that I had it. So, I didn’t necessarily lie,”  I rolled my eyes. Tierney hoisted a handful of chips into her mouth and chewed. “I just avoided the truth.”

“I see,” Tierney nodded, her mouth full. She thought for a second, and after she swallowed, she watched me. “Did you give the sweater back?”

I couldn’t tell if she totally bought the story--she still looked somewhat unconvinced--but I answered her truthfully. “No, I mean, I didn’t. But she didn’t ask for it back. She just got mad. And I don’t think the sweater really suits her, just to be clear.”

“You don’t think it suits her?” Tierney laughed a little and raised her eyebrows at me.

“I just think the sweater is really--” I paused, unsure of how to keep the metaphor going. “I think it’s not her style, I think the sweater is better suited on me.”

Tierney laughed, not pushing it any further. She simply put another chip in her mouth and turned back to the movie. 

When I had called her earlier to say I was on my way over, I figured I should text Harry and tell him that I wouldn’t be shacking up with him. I didn’t think that was a great idea when Quinn would be understandably suspicious about my whereabouts. If I stayed with Tierney, I had an alibi--I even made sure to put something on my snapchat story about being in Tierney’s living room.

I watched Tierney watch the rest of the movie, mainly because her snacking on chips was incredibly distracting, but also because I couldn’t focus on a poorly executed storyline with overrated actors.

I had bigger things going on.

When it ended and Tierney claimed she was just too exhausted to do anything but sleep, I bundled up on the couch and closed my eyes, hoping that my brain would be able to power off.

I must have been able to, because after a while my thoughts slowed, and the next thing I knew it was morning. The sun was up, there were birds singing, and Quinn was still mad at me. It wasn’t just a dream.

**

I was nervous to go back to my room after class--but I’d avoided it long enough. I’d gone to my morning rehearsal without my script and I was still wearing the shirt and sports bra that Millie had lent me.

I slowed my pace when I got to the door of our room, listening for a second to determine if Quinn was inside. When I heard a bit of music, I took a deep breath, bit at my cheek, and keyed inside.

She was sat at her desk, typing something up on her computer. I met her eyes and offered a small smile--she didn’t return it.

“Hi,” I said quietly. I walked over to my bed, dropped my coat, and turned to face her. She hadn’t said a word.

When she noticed that I was watching her, she looked up at me. “What do you want?”

I’d never heard her so angry--Quinn Markos wasn’t an angry person. She was happy and cheerful and sweet. I was the reason that she wasn’t herself.

“I want to talk, just for a minute.”

She didn’t say anything, instead, she just looked at me as if she were waiting. I cleared my throat.

“I’m sorry--I know that doesn’t undo anything, and I know that it’s basically pointless to apologize because I’m an asshole, but I am sorry. There’s no excuse for what happened.”

She averted her eyes to the ground. I had no clue whether or not she had spoken with Harry, but I hoped to God that she didn’t ask me any questions. If she asked me for more information--when did it start, did we plan on telling her, do we feel guilty?--I had no clue what I should say in response.

I could be honest, I knew that--but something about telling Quinn the background story felt wrong without Harry’s knowledge.

“There aren’t any excuses. I thought I could trust you. I should have believed Harry when he told me you always slept around.” She rested her arm on the back of her chair and stared at me--her words stung, but I guess I deserved them, even if they were false. I was just thankful she wasn’t crying.

I nodded and let out a sigh. “You should have been able to trust me. And him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started with him--”

The way she rolled her eyes made me curious, but I wasn’t about to ask any questions--it didn’t seem like my place.

“He’s ridiculous, he was begging me to not be mad at you.”

I was still leaned up against the side of my bed, but her words almost made me lose my footing. “What? You talked to him?” Harry hadn’t told me anything--he hadn’t even texted me to let me know.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “He came over last night and told me that it wasn’t your fault--he started everything. He said that you just basically went along with it.”

I thought about his words. He wasn’t wrong--I mean, he did start everything and I did go along with it--but still, I wasn’t completely innocent.

“So it’s true? He started everything?”

I looked at her for a second, unsure of how to answer. Quinn had long heard Harry crack jokes about how flirtatious I was--how with one flutter of my eyelashes I could get a guy into bed--but she, too, didn’t know that I’d never actually gotten anyone in my bed. If I wanted to salvage any type of friendship with Quinn, it was in my best interest to be honest with her.

“He kissed me first,” I nodded. “He started it but I’m just as guilty for going along with it.”

At this her eyes seemed to water a bit--I considered handing her a tissue from my night stand but I didn’t know if she wanted any kind gestures.

“He must really like you if he’s willing to take the fall for all of this.” She let out a quiet laugh, but I didn’t find her words funny. “He told me he couldn’t be with me because he has feelings for you.”

The boy who told me I had frizzy hair and looked like a baby giraffe when I ran?

I felt incredibly self-conscious. I felt like my hips took up the entire room and my unruly hair was twice it’s normal size. It was weird to hear what Harry had said--especially when it was nice and it was about me. Harry had dated Quinn--the stereotypical homecoming queen and the girl who probably sweats glitter. Quinn must have been able to sense my uneasiness, she laughed again.

“Please, Harper. As if you’re not used to all of the attention in the world.”

“What are you talking about?” I crossed my arms, now I was somewhat defensive. All of the attention in the world? I wanted to shake her and tell her how for the last year the only attention I wanted was from her boyfriend.

“You’re so great and cool,” she complimented, but the look on her face told me that the words tasted like poison in her mouth. “You always have a guy interested in you and you get the leads in all the plays and you’re smart and funny and everyone likes you.”

I didn’t know what to say--her words felt untrue. Sure, maybe there were guys that were interested in me and maybe I had some success in London Met’s theatre troupe, but I felt wildly insecure when it came to Harry.

Normally it felt like people were laughing because I was making a fool out of myself singing at the top of my lungs or making stupid faces.

I didn’t know if saying it was a good idea, but I figured that I couldn’t dig myself a deeper hole. Quinn stared at me with wide eyes and waited for me to speak. “I’ve been in love with Harry since I met him--when I was six.”

She blinked twice, sucked in a breath, but didn’t speak.

“And he never gave me the time of day until this semester. And I don’t know what changed,” I laughed, trying to keep my emotions in check. “You’ll have to ask him if you want to know that, but I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

She seemed to be interested in what I was saying, so I continued. “And you can be mad at me and you can never want to speak to me again--I would understand--but I just need you to know that I didn’t go into this trying to hurt you and I know Harry didn’t either.”

She let her gaze fall to the floor, the silence washed over us for a second until she looked back up at me. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had feelings for him when he asked for my number?”

She was referring to the night they met--Quinn and I had been at some party in some dorm room, and Harry showed up with a pack of other freshmen. I tried to avoid him, but when he saw that I was standing next to Quinn, he couldn’t help but approach.

I paused for a second, thinking back to that night. “Because I didn’t think anything was ever going to happen between us. I spent fourteen years just having a stupid crush on him and--” I trailed off, unsure of where I was going. She watched me eagerly. “I wanted him to be happy.”

I couldn’t read the look on her face--granted, I think she was still taking all of it in. The poor girl had an emotional last twenty-four hours, so I broke eye contact and headed for my closet. I changed in the bathroom and grabbed the books I needed for my afternoon class.

I almost paused on my way out the door to apologize again, but when I looked over at my roommate and saw her eyes filled with tears, I didn’t have it in me to say anything.

**

I was just about to finish mopping up when Louis called my name. I was in the back, and after two full days of avoiding both Quinn and Harry, I was ready for a shower and a long night of sleep. We were gearing up for tech week, and the weekend of the play was only days away.

Louis didn’t sound angry, so I walked out to the front of The Counter with somewhat of a smile on my face. He’d been giving me shit all night about the shift I’d missed--faking sick was really a true calling of mine--and I was sure he was about to give me some more.

I was surprised, though, to see Niall standing near the register, staring at something on his phone. I wiped my hands on my apron and cleared my throat.

“Hey,” I said, offering him a small smile.

“Hi,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket. “I figured you might be here.”

I nodded, unsure of why he’d come in the first place. He was quiet for a moment, but then he spoke. “I heard about what happened--with you and Harry and Quinn.”

“You did?”

I was surprised--I figured neither Harry nor Quinn were going around and telling everyone about the shitshow that ensued on Sunday night. Niall nodded and waited for me to speak.

I shrugged, feeling guilty and annoyed and upset and tired. “Yeah--me and Harry are assholes.”

Niall let out a small laugh. “Is that why you wanted me to get with Quinn?”

I rolled my eyes, annoyed by own desperate attempt to clean up my own mess. “Yeah, I mean, I guess. I do think you guys would be good together, but--if it weren’t for all of this stuff between me and Harry I probably wouldn’t have said that to you the other night.”

He nodded, and he seemed sympathetic. Instead of passing judgment and telling me off, he seemed to be interested in understanding what had happened.

“Who told you that Quinn found out?”

“She did,” he said. “She called me that night and we talked for a bit.”

Quinn had called Niall to talk about it? Quinn--the girl who came into the world with a pearl necklace around her throat and her pink up--called my swearing, football loving friend for comfort? I couldn’t help but be somewhat hopeful; maybe Quinn and Niall would work out after all.

I only nodded, I didn’t want to seem more selfish than I already had been. Niall shoved his hands in his pockets. “So--you and Harry like, a thing then?”

I shook my head quickly--I didn’t know if it was true, but I certainly didn’t need Niall reporting anything back to Quinn. “I have no idea, to be honest.”

He laughed a little. “Well, just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know Quinn’s upset, but, I think she’ll come around.”

I didn’t know what to say--I was hoping that she would, and maybe Niall had more insight to her feelings than I did, but I also didn’t need to go pressing anything right now. “I hope she does,” I told him.

He offered a wave and said goodbye, gaining a dirty look from Louis who emerged from the kitchen just as Niall turned to head out. Once he was gone and the door to the outside had shut, Louis came up to the counter.

I’d filled him in a little on the situation, but if he’d heard anything Niall said, I knew he had more of the pieces to put together. “You and Styles? The guy who always wears baggy collared shirts?”

I laughed at Louis’ description and rolled my eyes--yes, unfortunately Louis was right. Me and the kid with the baggy collared shirts. He wiped at a spill on the counter but watched me for a second.

“I can see it--good thing he’s taller than you.”

Louis was always making cracks about my height--I think he didn’t like the fact that I pretty much towered over him. Tonight, though, I didn’t have the energy to fight him. He let me finish my shift in peace, and after I clocked out, I walked the long way home just to gather my thoughts.

I’d yet to sleep in the same room with Quinn since Saturday (thank God for Tierney’s couch), and I had no clue if she was even in the mood to look at me, let alone be five feet from me.

My honesty with Quinn the day after The Incident--which is what I had taken to calling it when I spoke with Mille--left me more confused than I had originally been. Quinn knew everything--there were no secrets, no lies. She knew how I felt about Harry and she knew what had been going on. The only thing she didn’t know was that I was still a virgin.

Her words about my apparent reputation stung--and if it weren’t for the current situation, I probably would have been angry. Sure, Quinn might not have been aware of my lack of action, but she certainly knew me well enough to know that I had never been sleeping around.

As far as I knew, Harry was the only one to ever really bring it up--Liam and Niall had made a few cracks, as had some of Harry’s other friends, but the reputation I’d gained seemed to be much more entertaining to Harry than it was to anyone else. At least before all of this happened.

The night air was cold and I kept my hands shoved in my pockets, keeping my face tucked into my scarf as I walked. Harry had stopped trying to contact me on Monday night, and when he didn’t show up for our Tuesday class together, I figured it was better to leave him alone. Maybe he needed space, too.

I was about to swipe into my building when I heard a voice call my name behind me--it didn’t take me long to recognize who it was.

I turned to find him standing with his jacket zipped all the way up to his mouth--hiding his face from the cold. He was only a few steps behind me, and when I turned abruptly, he stopped walking.

“Are you following me?”

He shrugged slightly but didn’t speak.

“Have you been behind me this whole way?” I was annoyed--why had he waited this long to get my attention--why did he follow me in the first place?

He cleared his throat and pulled his jacket away from his mouth. “I didn’t really know what to say--I came to the The Counter but then I saw you leaving.”

I didn’t respond, I didn’t know what to say. I had a million thoughts and a thousand feelings--but I had no idea how to go about addressing him now that everything was out in the open.

“Can we talk?”

I took my hands out of my pockets and let out an annoyed laugh. “About what? What is there to say? Where do we even go from here?”

I think my anger caught him off guard--his eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted. “I dunno--I just want to talk. You’ve been ignoring me.”

“You didn’t show up to class yesterday,” I told him quickly. I wasn’t about to let him act like I was the only one avoiding the issue.

“Harper,” he sighed, and the way he looked down at his feet made me more angry. “Maybe we just shouldn’t do this, if you can’t even handle it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I crossed my arms, watching him closely. Do this? Can’t handle it?

He looked up at me now, there were dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days. I probably looked similar.

“Be together!” He said quickly, ignoring the couple that passed by us on the sidewalk outside of my building. They looked in our direction and quieted their voices. “How are we supposed to do this if you won’t even speak to me about it?”

“That’s not how it was supposed to happen!” I yelled at him, my voice cracking at the end of the sentence. I clenched my teeth together, willing myself to suppress any and all emotion that threatened to bubble over. “She wasn’t supposed to find out like that!”

“I’m aware!” he yelled back, shaking his head as he looked up to the sky. “That wasn’t my choice--that’s just how it happened. That’s not my fault.”

I let out an angry laugh, desperately trying to hide the tears that pooled in my eyes. Harry watched me for a second, his gaze made my cheeks hot and my head hurt. When I didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Forget it, Harper.”

I watched as he shoved his hands back in his pockets and turn his back to me. He’d become so much more than the boy who pushed me off the swing at recess and the one person who knew all of my embarrassing stories. He’d long been someone I loved, and he’d long been someone I hated.

But now in the dark on a Wednesday night--he was the person that I wanted to kiss, the person I wanted to scream at, and the person I simply wanted most.

[artemisrae]

Stranger Things - The Last Picture Show

Title: The Last Picture Show

Rating: T (for language)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Characters: Mike/Eleven, Jim Hopper, and the full party all make an appearance.

Word Count: 4,981

Summary:

One thing I know for sure - a person can't sneeze in this town without somebody offerin' him a handkerchief...it's an awful small town for any kinda carryin' on... - The Last Picture Show

Hopper catches Mike and El at the local drive in after being led to think that they were at the Hawk with their friends.

Note: Shenanigans. Way less making out than the premise would suggest. Mostly about Hopper’s priorities as a dad.

Dedicated to @juxtaposie, who loves Hellraiser so much she felt it worth cashing in 11 years of BFF good will to make me watch it.

AO3 Mirror

Hopper tapped his pen impatiently on the desk. He had deliberately picked up the Friday evening shift, knowing that El would be out and not at home, waiting for him, and had planned on using it as an opportunity to catch up on paperwork that he’d admittedly been slacking on. It was sorted into neat stacks based upon how passive aggressive Flo’s Post-It read: “take your time”, “need these yesterday”, “not that important”.

He was working on the “I will forge your signature” stack when Callahan came in.

“You up for a 10-10?” he asked, and Hopper, eager for any excuse to ignore paperwork, immediately pushed back from his desk and picked up his hat.

“Who’s fighting?” he asked, holding his hand out for the keys.

“Archie Foreman’s Mustang was spotted going up the exit ramp to the Sterling Drive-In,” Callahan said.

“And let me guess.” They banged out into the parking lot. It was the end of September, and unseasonably warm. He hadn’t even bothered with a jacket or wool socks. “Jack Sanders’ Camaro is there too?”

“Right in front of the snack bar,” Callahan confirmed, and in synchronized motions they opened their car doors and stepped inside. He didn’t bother with the light - if they were just going to break up a fist fight, they probably didn’t even need two of them, but all the cops in town knew Archie Foreman, and if Archie had been drinking before heading out to the Sterling after Jack then they would need someone to sit on him just to get the cuffs on. He got wild when he drank.

Archie’d had his eye on Jack for a while - some beef over a woman, although it was hard to imagine the quality of woman who would find both Archie Foreman and Jack Sanders attractive.

It normally took about a half-hour to reach the Sterling Drive-In - twenty minutes if one could skirt traffic rules the way Hopper and Callahan could. Like Archie, they too went up the exit ramp, gravel crunching under the wheels of the cruiser.

What they found was a scene of chaos - what had probably started as a regular old Friday night fist fight had devolved into a full out brawl. Archie had brought back up, and Sander’s brothers were with him.

Despite the group of men, the sloppy fight, and their drunken shouts and curses, the movie was still playing on the big screen. There were still some cars in the lot too, but not many - it was the second feature, and some kind of gross out horror movie too, so all the families would have left. Hopper could hear the sounds of the speakers getting louder and fading as they drove past the rows towards the back, where he could see the Mustang had blocked the Camaro into its spot.

Foreman was arrested at least once a month. As soon as the high beams of the police cruisers hit them the brawl broke up - the Mustang was now blocked into the lane on either side by Hopper and Callahan, and so Archie’s friends scattered into the woods. Sanders’ brothers, with no one left to fight, fell back against the Camaro. One of them leaned into the backseat and opened a can of Budweiser. Archie and Jack were still struggling against each other.

“Seriously?” Hopper asked, gesturing to the beer, as they strode past the cars to the men still fighting.

He nodded and toasted Hopper, who merely rolled his eyes. In unison, he and Callahan both waded into the scrum. Hopper got a hand on the back of Archie’s jacket, while Callahan was picking up Sanders by his elbow.

Dimly, he heard Callahan reading Sanders his rights, and mechanically he started to do the same, pushing Archie onto the hood of the cruiser. Archie, having been read his rights innumerable times already, was still yelling threats at Jack as Hopper lifted him off the hood and started to push him towards the backseat of the car.

Then, he looked up, and saw the blue station wagon with the wood panelling. It was dumb luck that he saw it; it was parked two rows up and three over. There was nothing special about it, no vanity plates or bumper stickers, just a plain Ford taking in the double feature, but the second he saw that car he knew, he knew -

“Son of a bitch!” he growled, and dropped Archie belly first onto the ground. “Ugh, sorry -”

Hopper dragged him up and threw him into the backseat, slamming the door with a stern, “Stay there.”

“Chief? What are you -” he heard Callahan call after him and then, “Damn, I have to start over. You have the right…”

Hopper pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on. He heard someone heckle him, but he ignored them, having eyes only for the car ahead of him.

He approached from the front. The driver and passenger windows were rolled down, the speakers hanging inside, the movie blaring within the confined space of the car.

There was no one sitting in the front seats.

He found the car’s occupants stretched out in the back. They were… quite busy. The only light was from the movie, flashing over them, but there was no mistaking who it was even if he couldn’t make out their faces, and he also knew that they weren’t supposed to be in the Sterling Drive-In.

He tapped on the window with the end of his flashlight. It took a minute to get their attention - they really were very busy. He tried again, a little harder this time, enough to resonate within the car without risking breaking the window.

His patience was rewarded, however, as he finally got their attention and got to watch as Michael Wheeler’s face morphed from irritation to confusion to full blown panic.

***

His knee was digging into the door handle.

Mike Wheeler sat in the front seat of the police cruiser and mentally made a list of all the times his life had done such a 180 before - like Will going missing, finding El in the woods, her dramatic return at the Byers’, even their kiss at the Snow Ball - but this was somehow… scarier.

He thought it was because during all of those events there had been an action he could take, something he could do - he could look for Will, he could help El get settled, he could fight demodogs, they could dance. Right now there was nothing he could do but sit, crammed into a bench seat with his girlfriend and her father, and listen as they yelled over one another.

“You lied! You fucking lied to me!” Hopper was yelling.

“You snuck up on us! How could you -”

“You are not listening! You told me you would be at the Hawk with your whole little fucking party and I find you at the Sterling with him -”

“I said we were going to the movies and we were at the movies -”

“You are sixteen! Fucking sixteen!”

“Why were you spying? Only assholes spy!”

“That is not the point, that is not the goddamn point, you lied -”

“That is what you said when -”

“And don’t ever call me an asshole again kid!”

“You used that word -”

Between the yelling and the pounding of his heart, his ears were ringing. He had no idea someone else was in the car with them until he heard a quiet mutter from the backseat.

“You really dating Chief Hopper’s kid?” the man in the backseat asked.

“Yeah,” Mike answered distractedly. Under other circumstances he would have ignored him, but Hopper’s face was an alarming shade of red, and the lights on the dashboard were starting the flicker - no doubt the influence of El.

“You poor bastard.” Mike glared at him. He chuckled. “Can’t believe you got caught by the Chief going at it in the back of a station wagon. That’s a shit Friday.”

“You got arrested,” Mike pointed out.

“Yeah but he’s not mad at me,” he pointed out reasonably. “Chief isn’t someone you want mad at you.”

“I’m not taking advice from a criminal,” Mike said, insulted. He didn’t think El and Hopper were hearing them at all. On top of their shouting, the radio was making an alarming squealing noise as El got more and more worked up.

“That wasn’t advice. Advice is, don’t get caught fucking the chief’s daughter in the backseat of your car.”

“We weren’t fucking!” Mike yelped, alarmed. Christ, he hoped Hopper didn’t think they were having sex.

“Goddamn kid, it was the second feature! What were you waiting for?”

He was saved from having to come up with a reply when Hopper abruptly wheeled around and positively roared, “AND SHUT UP ARCHIE.”

He turned to Mike, and shoved a finger in his face. Mike stared at it. It was shaking slightly. “You are driving her home. Right now. It takes exactly 27 minutes to reach my house from here. You have 32 minutes. El, if you’re not on that radio telling me you’re home in exactly 32 minutes, so help me -”

“What?” El asked, irritated and challenging. “You’ll do what?”

Mike didn’t want him to finish the threat. He grabbed El by the wrist and all but dragged her from the car. “Right yes, we’re leaving now. Right now.”

***

Hopper stewed the entire ride back to the station.

She had lied to him. Little Miss Friends Don’t Lie had lied, and by extension, her entire little party had too. And she’d had the nerve to act like he’d done something wrong.

He was so angry that when he parked the cruiser, he didn’t go back into the station - instead he pulled out the truck keys and went to his Blazer.

“Uh, Chief?” He heard Callahan call cautiously. “What do you want me to do with them?”

“Throw Archie in the tank. No charges, he’ll be arrested again within the month.” There was so much wrong with what he was doing, starting with leaving Callahan alone with two perps, and yet.

They had lied to him.

Hopper wasn’t an unreasonable man. He understood teenagers pushed their boundaries. He, as a teenager, had done a lot more than push. Driven through them with a bulldozer, more like.

He thought he was a fairly permissive parent - half the stuff he’d gotten into at sixteen hadn’t even occurred to El, who, despite being a living breathing medical experiment, still thought glitter nail polish was the height of technology. And if there was anyone he was going to trust with her, it was the Wheeler kid, who thought rose petals fell out of her ears when she walked.

Wheeler had been doing right by El since he’d found her in the rain that night in November. There was no point in trying to protect her from him and his teenage hormones - hell, half the time Hopper thought that Mike more likely needed protection from El, who had brain powers and no sense of shame.

She needed to live as normal a life as possible. For him, that meant meeting all her friends but letting her go out anyway. Going to the high school open house, but sending her anyway. Wanting to punch every snot nosed piece of shit that called her weird, but letting Wheeler get detentions for doing it instead.

Healthy boundaries.

It looked like there were some boundaries he needed to reenforce.

He pulled up at The Hawk. The lights were still on, so it looked like the late feature was still rolling - Hellraiser, the same gross out horror movie that had been playing at the drive-in. Sinclair’s Cavalier was parked under a street lamp, and so Hopper strode over, leaned against the trunk, lit a cigarette, and waited.

He was distracted from his vigil exactly once, when El radioed the code for H-O-M-E with exactly one minute to spare. Considering his response, he finally went with G-O-O-D, but was unsure whether or not she’d left the radio on while she was pouting.

Three cigarettes later the movie let out, and Hopper watched as the small crowd of people - mostly teenagers, the only people who bothered to go to the late weekend features at The Hawk - trickled out of the theater.

El’s party was near the back of the group, talking animatedly. He sized them up.

Will as always, was near the front of the pack, but off to the side. Hopper wondered if the kids even realized that they tended to walk behind him, as if they were always keeping an eye on him.

Immediately he ruled out Will. Will would be frank, and honest, and no fun at all. Plus, he’d literally breathed life into the kid.

Lucas, swinging his car keys around his index finger, was the only one in the pack to have been gifted his own car, giving him a significant edge in the social hierarchy. He was holding Max’s hand, swinging slightly with their gait. He was a straight talker, the best liar of the bunch, but he also knew when to cut and run.

No good for Hopper’s purpose.

Max, her stringy hair blocking her face from view. She and Dustin were exclaiming over the special effects of the movie - sounded like a bloody one. Also ruled out. She’d tell Hopper right to his face to go to hell.

Hopper thought she was a good influence on El.

He focused on the last one - Dustin, who, in the middle of shouting his point and making sweeping arm gestures, was the only one who hadn’t yet noticed Hopper was waiting. In fact, he didn’t notice Hopper even after everyone else stopped short. He bumped into Lucas from behind, declaring in an annoyed tone, “What the hell guys?”

Dustin. Dustin was his mark.

“Hey Chief,” Will greeted him easily, and Hopper felt a surge of affection through his annoyance. Will knew they were caught, and didn’t look half as nervous as the others did.

“Hey kids.” He took a drag of his cigarette, flicked ashes into the night. “It's a late one, isn't it?”

No one really had a response to that. Hopper waited expectantly for one of them to break the silence. Finally - he counted to five - just as he expected, it was Dustin who took the lead.

“So Chief we, uh, weren’t expecting you to swing by. Did you… want to watch Hellraiser? Because it wasn’t that good.”

Max snorted, and then immediately ducked her face behind Lucas’s shoulder, not wanting to draw Hopper’s attention. He stayed focused on Dustin.

“I thought I’d do you a favor and pick up El from the movie. You don’t all really fit in the Cavalier, and my house is way further out than anyone else’s.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lucas said, talking a smidge too quickly to pass for playing it cool. “I don’t mind dropping her off -”

“I don’t see her though,” Hopper said, brows creasing in confusion. He tilted his head, the motion a little exaggerated, judging by the smirk on Will’s face. He pretended to search over their heads. “Or Mike. Where are they?”

“They’re still in the theater!” Dustin blurted out, and Hopper did not miss the dirty look that Lucas shot him. “They’re just… taking a moment. To themselves. They’ll be out in a minute, and we can drop El off, we don’t mind.”

As soon as he said these words, the marquee to the Hawk winked off, leaving them with only the street lamp and Hopper’s cigarette for light.

He straightened up. “Looks like they’re locked in for the night. Come on, I guess we’re going to have to go knock on the door and get the owner to let them out.”

“Wait!” Dustin shouted, scrambling. Will was shaking his head at this point, and Max had stepped all the way behind Lucas, as if Hopper wasn’t going to see her. “I mean, they’re not in there anymore.”

Hopper looked at him. He kept his tone serious and concerned. “But they were in the movie, right?”

“Yes! I mean!” He hugged his bag of popcorn, glanced around him as if looking for help, and then picked up, “Sometimes they sit somewhere else. Like we’ll sit up front and they’ll sit in the back.”

“Why would they do that?” Hopper asked, feigning confusion. Like he didn’t already know that the back row was goddamn makeout city.

The look on Dustin’s face indicated that he knew the answer to that question - and more than that, he knew that Hopper knew the answer to that question. He tried to bail, looking around uncertainly for help. “Guys?”

“Look, if they weren’t with you guys, I have to phone it in,” Hopper interrupted, and if he didn’t know better he would have felt bad at the look of panic that crossed all their faces. They weren’t panicking about their missing friends, they were panicking because their little lie was falling apart. “We’ll have to get a search party going, the first 24 hours are crucial in something like this.”

He strode towards the truck, opening the door and reaching against the bench seat, looking for all the world a concerned father about to radio the station and then -

“Wait, wait!” It was Max, having finally gained the courage to step in front of Lucas and elbow Dustin out of the way. “Chief, we know where they are. They went to a different movie.”

Hopper wheeled around, leaned against the truck, and took in each one of their faces. Will, too quiet, but obviously amused at the situation. Lucas, who was still holding the hand with his car keys up, as though if he just held still enough, Hopper wouldn’t throttle him. Dustin, cheeks bright red, holding his bag of popcorn from the movie so tightly there would be nothing but crumbs left. Finally, Max, eyebrows low and annoyed, clearly ready for this farce to be over.

“I know,” he said, aggravated and patronizing. “I know exactly where they went. I almost impounded Wheeler’s car about an hour ago.”

He was met with four slack jawed stares, and Will, who still looked like he knew too much for his own good. Hopper climbed up into the truck, took a final drag of his cigarette, and flicked it off into the darkness. “And if I ever catch you lying for them again, I'll make sure you all have parking tickets until you’re ninety.” Nodding at Max, he added, “That includes your skateboard too, missy.”

The driver’s side window was open as he pulled away. Distantly, under the rumble of the truck’s engine, he heard Dustin, asking the real question:

“Is Mike alive?”

It was enough to make Hopper smile and congratulate himself on a job well done.

Now to deal with El.

***

The door was unlocked when Hopper got home, which was the first thing to set his teeth grinding. The house was dark, and the door to her bedroom was shut, which was an indication that she didn’t want to talk and probably had every intention of ignoring him for daring to interrupt her date.

He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and moved into the kitchen. She was sixteen, and had been interrupted with her boyfriend by her father. She was naturally frustrated with him, and while he had learned that it was best to let El stew, and not push her when she was emotional, the fact was they needed to have a serious conversation and he didn’t feel like it could wait.

The only sign that she wasn’t asleep was the squeal of the walkie-talkie from her bedroom - probably talking to Wheeler, moaning about their failed date. If Sinclair had gotten the rest of their little party back to their respective houses maybe they were having a party line, talking in hushed whispers about Hopper cornering them at the Hawk.

Giving her space for the time being, he heated up a pan full of milk, stirring in the chocolate and getting the mugs ready before adding his secret weapon: a load of marshmallows, packing the mug so full that the hot chocolate would have to seep in around them. As he was holding the pan over the mugs, he finally called out:

“El! Come out here.”

There was a long moment of silence - Hopper’s heart skipped a beat, he really didn’t want to force this - and then he heard the hissing clunk that could only be El retracting the antenna on her walkie-talkie. The door creaked as it opened and she came to stand in the entrance to the kitchen, looking solemn.

She was still wearing the dress she’d left the house in, but she’d put on a pair of pajama pants underneath. The electric yellow print clashed with the grass green dress, and if he weren’t so goddamned irritated with her he would have thought she looked adorable with her mussed hair and little kid pout.

He held up the mug of hot chocolate. “Do you want to tell me why you lied tonight?”

The pout deepened. Accusing El of lying was an affront to her personal moral code. “We did not lie. I said we were going to the movies, and we went to the movies.”

Right. This was the crux of the issue. “El, go to the bookshelf and get your dictionary.”

For a moment she set her jaw, looked at him mutinously, but then conceded, turning tail and grabbing the book. He gestured for her to sit, pushing one of the mugs of hot chocolate across the table.

“Look up the word omission and read it out to me.”

She was going to high school like a normal teenager, but there were still these little things, these gaps in her knowledge. Lying was something she generally didn’t do (and frankly wasn’t good at) but telling half truths, and letting him fill in the rest - did she really not understand why that was a problem?

“Omission,” El read out to him mechanically. “Noun. Someone or something that has been left out or excluded. Example: "there are glaring omissions in the report".”

“A lie of omission,” Hopper explained, “is you telling me that you’re going to a movie with your friends, knowing that I’m going to believe you’re at the Hawk with your entire party. You didn’t tell a lie, but you deliberately left out information. I need to know where you’re at when you go out, do you understand that?”

She gave a half shrug, one shoulder rising and falling, and Hopper exhaled roughly, tamping down the urge to snap at her.

“I’m not trying to spy on you,” he told her, an edge to his voice. “But if there had been an emergency, or if you got in trouble or I needed to find you, I wouldn’t have known where to start looking.”

Healthy boundaries, his brain reminded him.

Normal teenager, his heart reminded him.

How could he explain to her that it wasn’t just a courtesy to him, as her father? That he still had nightmares about meeting rooms in Washington D.C. where men in suits were shouting “What do you mean the Hawkins Initiative is shut down? Three years?! Where is the subject? ”

He’d been in the Army. He knew how bureaucracy worked. It wasn’t just that the right hand didn’t know what the left hand was doing - it was that the right hand was pushing half-finished paperwork towards the left hand and not reading anything the left hand gave back, just trusting the left hand to be doing what it was told.

It was his darkest nightmare that the closing of Hawkins Lab wasn’t really the end of the story, that at some point someone with some actual sway in the government was going to realize that they’d lost track of valuable assets - and do everything they could to track them (her) down.

A normal teenager was not a paranoid teenager, but all the same -

“Now, you realize that’s only part of the problem,” Hopper said to her, and judging by her downcast eyes he thought he was reaching her. “Because what worries me is that I not only didn’t know where you were, you didn’t really seem to know where you were?”

She tentatively met his eyes then, her face a question mark. It had been a lot of work, encouraging her to use words, be a participant in conversations, and he knew when she was scared or stressed all that work meant nothing and she just withdrew into herself. It had been just as much of a learning curve for him to learn what all of her facial expressions meant, what she was asking for without saying it out loud.

“You said I was spying on you,” Hopper said, tone still stern. “But I wasn’t. If you had been paying attention to your surroundings you would have seen the police lights when me and Callahan got to the Sterling.”

Now a blush colored her cheeks. Hopper reminded himself again that he wanted her to be smart, not paranoid.

“Look.” His fingers thrummed against the table as he looked for the right words. “You’re a smart kid. God knows I got into shit when I was your age.”

El’s eyes lit up. “What kind of shit?”

Shit that had involved girls, and cars, and cigarettes, and alcohol. My mom thought I was on the debate team. Once he’d had to give a cop his entire case of beer in exchange for not giving him a ride of shame back to his house, and his poor naive mother. A different cop had once given chase after (an underage) Hopper had threatened a bartender with a wrench, vaulting over fences and under laundry lines for what felt like a mile before he was able to get away. Another time he’d learned a very hard lesson on what not to say to a girl when you found your condom had broken. The flip side of that lesson had been the one on not believing women who say it's okay, I’m on the pill.

He had so many pearls of fatherly wisdom to pass on to El, but don’t stick your dick in crazy wasn’t one of them.

Be aware of your surroundings was, however.

When the cops show up, the date is over was too.

“That’s not fair,” Hopper finally said, raising his mug to his lips. “I had to figure it out on my own. You do too. We can compare notes when you’re older.”

El considered this. “Am I grounded?”

“I think that’s appropriate,” Hopper considered, then added, “If you can tell me why you lied I might be talked into cutting it short.”

“I didn’t think you’d let me go if I asked,” she said frankly. Hopper slapped a hand to his forehead. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

He sighed. “That doesn’t mean you manipulate me to get what you want, kid. You’re grounded for a week, for not being aware of your surroundings. That means no after school homework tutoring with Mike, no dates or campaigns next weekend, and I’m riding you to school this week, not him.”

She bit his lip but appeared to accept his terms. “So you’re not mad about the kissing?”

“Right.” He tried not to think of her and Wheeler grappling in the back of that station wagon. What he did think about was a jet black 1950 Impala, and Jeannie Rogers - although she was Matthews now, wasn’t she?

“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” Hopper gestured vaguely towards her neck, where a dark mark was visible under her ear. “You are the worst at covering hickies. You really need to talk to someone who knows about makeup. Try Nancy.”

That should be awkward enough punishment for both her and Mike. Too bad Nancy had to get caught up in it, though El might actually learn something useful.

To her credit, El didn’t look ashamed or embarrassed. “Okay,” she agreed easily.

“Good. Now go to bed.” He needed a drink, and didn’t like to open the bottle in front of the kid. “And no more walkie talkie tonight, got it?”

***

It was a month before Mike and El got to go on another date. Hopper was home that Friday evening when Mike came to pick her up, and the atmosphere was deliciously awkward. Hopper sent El back to her room to search for a jacket, as the weather had turned, and he was alone with Mike on the front porch.

“Tell me again,” he ordered Mike, who apparently thought staring at the wall over his shoulder would pass for eye contact.

“We’re going to the Harvest Festival,” Mike recited mechanically.

“Right” Hopper confirmed.

“There’s a corn maze there.”

“There is.”

“And a hay ride.”

Hopper nodded.

“Then we’re going to the diner with the entire party.”

“The entire party?”

“Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Will.”

“Callahan patrols tonight and usually takes a coffee break there around 10,” Hopper observed.

“He will see us there?” Mike asked meekly.

“I bet he will.” Hopper lit a cigarette. “And Wheeler?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever lie to me again, I will tell you, in absolute, excruciating detail, what I did to your English teacher when I was sixteen.” He exhaled a plume of smoke, watching as it caught the icy breeze.

“Mrs. Matthews?!” Mike asked, and El came out then and took his arm, and completely missed the mortified look on his face.

“Goodnight!” El called over her shoulder, like Hopper wasn’t going to wait up for them. Mike was still looking back at him, and Hopper found something deeply satisfying in the awed, intimidated look on his face.

He smirked, waved cheerfully, and shut the door.

Healthy boundaries.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Soft Names, Soft Touches *

Chapter Eight (NSFW)

Previous Chapter 

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 4.3K+   *NSFW*

Warnings: Swearing. A little angst. A lot of smut. Russian that may or may not be correct.

A few nights later, just shy of three in the morning, Franki woke in a sweaty mess, blankets tangled around her legs, breath coming in heavy pants, and heart pounding. She’d dreamed of China, of beatings and drugs and experiments. She’d dreamed of being strapped to a table as her bones were broken and her body healed, only to be re-broken again and again. There was no pain. Only nothingness. Only numbness. It was the constant emotional and mental abuse that wore her down. The distress of never feeling anything.

Pressing her hands to her face, Franki shuddered, tears coming to her eyes. She felt so numb, so frozen, so… dead inside. It made her sick to her stomach. Snuffling, she wiped the few drops of moisture that escaped from her eyes and pushed back her now soiled bedding. Getting up, she stripped the sheets from the mattress and then the clothes from her body, tossing it all in a hamper to deal with later.

Standing in her skin, Franki shivered as she dug for clean pajamas, pulling on white cotton shorts and a blue t-shirt that – ironically – had Cap’s shield emblazoned across her breasts. Luckily, she’d taken to braiding her hair before bed to keep the mass of it tamed and flipped the tail out the back of her shirt where it hung long and thick down her spine. It would have sucked to deal with if she’d sweated through the mass of it. Looking at the clock, she contemplated going and crawling in bed with Nat but found it… unappealing for some reason and grabbed the soft pink throw from the end of her sofa to toss around her shoulders. She left her suite and wandered through the halls into the common room.

“Ms. Francessca? Is everything alright?”

Friday’s voice made her jolt. “I’m good, Friday, and please, just Franki is fine.” She hadn’t done much conversing with the AI before Tony adding her to Franki’s new suit and had never bothered to correct her until now. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Very good, Franki.”

Sighing softly, Franki wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil before heading towards the doors on the far side of the room that lead out to the balcony. It was too cold to stand at the railing and look out over the city, but she had a pretty decent view right where she was and tugged the pink blanket further around her shoulders.

In the distance, she could make out the dark swath in the center of the sea of lights that was Central Park and smiled in memory. The first date she’d had with Bucky had gone so well, even with the few hiccups, and they had spent another hour just walking through the park, enjoying the quiet and the scenery.  Being with him like that had been so perfect. It had made her so very happy that even now she sighed a sappy little sound and leaned against the window remembering how sweet he’d been taking her to the playground and giving her the chance to swing for the first time. She’d had a lot of firsts with Bucky. First real touches, first kiss, first date. Her first taste of pleasure…

Closing her eyes, she smiled thinking about how his touch made her feel. How her skin just hummed when he was near. How she felt so alive when he touched her. His hands on her body seemed to stroke life into her limbs, spark sensation where once only nothingness lived. He gave her so much with the touch of his callused hands, so much that she wasn’t sure she could ever voice exactly how much it meant to her.

When the kettle began to whistle, she returned to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. The strong scent of mint was soothing, and she cupped the warm mug between her palms before heading back to the windows.

It was interesting to watch the world from above like she was nothing more than an observer and she wondered at the people who were up and moving at this time of night. Where were they going? What stories did they have to tell? Were they like her and couldn’t sleep? Or did they have jobs, loved ones, adventures they were headed to?

“Franki?”

The deep voice broke her from her musings, and she startled, turning swiftly to see Bucky standing a few feet away. Hair dishevelled, he wore only a pair of shorts and a ratty looking t-shirt. It shouldn’t have had him looking so damn delicious. “Bucky? What are you doing up?” she asked, trying not to drool.

He’d been sound asleep, for once, when Friday had alerted him to Francessca’s late night wandering. Why the AI had informed him remained a mystery, but he was grateful she had.

They’d spent a lot of time together over the last few days. Escaping the tower to walk the city she knew so little about. It had been both familiar and new for him as well. Returning to the old neighbourhoods, reminiscing about things that would suddenly come back to him. Memories both good and bad, and ones that made them both laugh like all the alley’s that Steve had had his ass handed to him in. He’d talked about Cap before he was Cap, about the Howling Commandos and their fight against Hydra, about anything and everything he could think of that would make her smile. They’d snuck into the museum that housed the collection of Captain America memorabilia and played tourist, him with a ball cap pulled low, her in the red jacket he’d insisted on buying her.

The coat was a dark red wool peacoat with a big deep hood, very reminiscent of her Reaper garb. He’d watched her eyes light up when she’d seen it in the store’s window, and he’d dragged her bodily inside to try it on. After there was no other choice but to buy it for her for she obviously adored it. His Snow White had turned into Little Red Riding Hood, and with that comment, he’d had to find a bookstore so that she could have copies of both stories. Snow White she knew, Natasha had made her watch the animated movie, but Red was a mystery he’d had to clear up.

It made his chest ache every time he caught the flash of confusion on her face when she didn’t understand something that should have been a part of her childhood. Simple things like swing sets and children’s stories, ice cream cones that melted down your fingers faster than you could eat them, lazy Sunday afternoons when you laid by the radio and listened to the music, or, in his case, to his mother singing hymns after mass as she cooked the pot roast for supper. She’d missed so much, and he’d become determined to give her everything he possibly could.

Seeing her standing by the windows, hair in a thick braid that swung against her pink blanket, had her looking so incredibly young and fresh and innocent. She was fucking adorable with her big eyes and colourful mug. “Couldn’t sleep. You?” Shadows gathered in her eyes before she looked away.

“Me too,” she murmured, sipping at her tea. He moved so silently, she felt the heat of his big frame wash over her only a second before his arms wrapped around her waist and he was drawing her into his chest. Sighing, she leaned her head back against his shoulder. The feeling of numbness, of being dead inside, was gone in an instant when her skin lit up.

Nightmares had been chasing her tonight. He could tell by the slightly haunted look that had crossed her face, and he pressed a comforting brush of lips to her temple. “You okay, baby?” She sagged slightly as if his question weighed too much for her shoulders.

“Bad dreams…” she whispered. There was little point in hiding something he’d already figured out. “They chase me…”

“You want to talk about it?” Bucky murmured, tightening his hold on her. Even with the blanket, she felt cold.

Turning her face, she rested it against his thick pectoral and inhaled the heady scent that seemed to always follow him. “It was my life… China… the same as always. They broke me… so many times… I feel…” Her hands shook, and she pushed her cup on to the bar that ran the length of the window before she dropped it. “I dream… I feel… nothing!”

Her voice broke on a sob, and he turned her so what tears fell, fell on him. He’d never seen her just… come apart before. She seemed to crumble all at once, just break open as pain poured from her soul. “It’s alright, baby. You cry it out. You’re not broken, Franki.” He held her as her tears soaked his shirt and her body trembled.

A gasping little breath left her when she managed to whimper, “They make me into nothing. I am lying there and can hear the bones breaking, and there is nothing! I am dead,” she pounded her fist against her chest, “on the inside. I am dead inside! There is nothing! I feel nothing!”

Her words gutted him. They cut the legs right out from under him with her anguish before he centred himself and growled out, “NO! You’re not dead inside, moya zvezdochka! You are alive and warm, and you feel, Franki! You feel me!” Using both hands, he captured her face and held her still, staring into silver eyes gone nearly icy with grief and the tears that streamed from them. “You feel me…” he murmured before lowering his lips to hers and kissing her with all the tenderness he could muster.

“You’re not dead, malyutka,” he whispered against the corner of her lips. “You are warm,” he drew his lips across her cheek. “And soft,” he murmured against her jaw. “You feel me, don’t ya, doll face?” he purred against her throat as his hand skimmed down her arm, brushing her blanket out of the way.

“I feel you, snegopad… you make me live again.” She breathed him in, hands clutching at his shoulders. “You give me life… Bucky…” she moaned softly when his mouth closed over her pulse. Her whole being just hummed with electricity. “You’re touch… makes me whole.”

Lifting her up, he sat her on the narrow ledge that ran the length of the windows, knocking her mug to the side, somehow managing not to dump her forgotten tea everywhere, and stepped between her thighs. His hands clamped around her waist, and he looked up into pale eyes. “You stop me, malen'kaya ten', if it gets to be too much but I am going to touch you, Franki. I need to. I have to. I can’t help myself.”

There were no words for how she felt when he looked at her like that. Like he was desperate to get his hands on her. Like he would take down an entire squadron of soldiers just to touch the softness of her skin. Lips parted, breath coming in soft pants, she wrapped her hands behind his neck and yanked him forwards.

The kiss they shared was feverish, a frenzy of clashing lips and tongues, soft bites and harder suckles of swollen lips. His mouth descended to her throat, and Franki sank her fingers into his unruly locks when stubble scrapped against her and shot a bolt of pleasure through her so hard she had to groan softly in response. Teeth closed over her pulse, strong suction pulled against her skin, and she cried out as more sensation drove straight to her core. “Oh, Bucky!” His hands had long since found their way beneath her shirt and had stroked fires to life all over her body. Everything tingled and throbbed, ached and burned in a way she’d never felt before. But it all felt so good, so right, she was loathe to stop him doing what he wished.

Then his hips rocked forwards, and she could suddenly feel the ridged length of hard flesh that bespoke his arousal. He was hard and fully erect, his cock hot and pressing against a part of her that she’d only ever known about in theory, but when he rocked his hips into hers, she was suddenly vividly aware that the most potent of her pleasure centers were not anywhere he’d touched previously. “Oh, god!” she panted softly, her knees squeezing tight against his hips to hold him there.

Dragging his metal hand down to her buttock, he held her on the edge of the shelf, pinned between his hand and his hip and pulled back only enough to see her and the mark he’d placed upon her throat. “Damn… that’s pretty.” The hickey was vividly purple and red, and it disappointed him that it wouldn’t last long. Returning to her eyes, he watched them roll back when he rubbed his cock against her barely there shorts. Wetness was pooling so swiftly between them that he could smell her arousal. She looked absolutely wrecked in the most beautiful way possible. “Franki…”

“Bucky, please!” She was wound so tight, and every time he rocked against her just felt so good. “I don’t… I can’t… it’s so good!”

“Fuck!” he hissed softly. “You’re killing me, baby. I need to go slow with you. You’ve never done this before, and you’re going to feel stuff, strong stuff, that’s going to make you a bit crazy.” Wanda had been most insistent that he didn’t rush her.

“It aches, Bucky!” she pleaded, drawing his lips back to hers. “It aches and I don’t understand…” She’d never felt so good and so unfulfilled in her entire life.

“Okay, okay, moya zvezdochka.” He kissed her repeatedly, plucking and playing with her lips as she rocked against him, making him fucking nuts with how wet she’d become. “I’m going to touch, baby. Touch you right there, and you’re going to talk to me as I do. You’re going to tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“Da, snegopad! Da, Bucky!” She would beg soon if he didn’t do something to end the churning, aching, bombardment of sensation that was going on inside her.

“Let go with your knees, doll,” He murmured, dropping both hands to her hips. Once she released him, he slipped his thumbs beneath the waistband of her shorts and drew them down, scooting them out from beneath her to her knees and letting them fall to the floor. She was so damn trusting, so fucking beautiful, that he was hard pressed not to just sink to his knees and press his face into her, but he didn’t think she’d handle that well, not yet. It was only then he noticed the shirt she had on and arched a brow in amusement. “Really, Franki?”

Her hands had fallen to his shoulders when he stepped back, and she tugged at his shirt. “You really care about that now?”

Her eyes were wild, and he leaned in to kiss her because who cared what shirt she had on? He was the one between her legs after all. When she tried to close her knees on his hips again, he stopped her, hands on her thighs spreading her apart, drawing them slowly up her silky skin. Her arms rested on his shoulders, hands on his neck or in his hair, Franki panted heavily, her forehead pressed to his and her breath washing across his lips. Her muscles quivered, and he brushed his nose over hers. “You with me, baby?”

“Oh, god, Bucky…” Her toes wanted to curl she felt so good. “Please don’t stop…” When the warmth of his flesh hand finally hit the apex of her thighs, she gave a high pitched whine of such pleasure, she couldn’t believe the sound had come from her.

Petting her gently, Bucky held his grin in check and murmured, “You like that, Franki? Does it feel good?”

“Da!” His fingers circled gently, and she moaned, her body jolting with the contact.

She was soaking, dripping wet for him and he slipped his middle finger between her folds to find her aroused bundle of nerves. He was so damn hard he was near to bursting in his shorts, but he was nothing if not focused and right now was about her. When he finally found the little nub, a single circle of it had her body arching in glorious sensation as she bowed away from him towards the window. “There it is. There’s the first spot.”

More pleasure pounded through her than she’d ever thought possible and Franki moaned deeply, tightening the grip she had on Bucky’s hair. When she managed to crack open her eyelids and look down, his pupils were huge, his eyes dark, and rampant excitement covered his features. “Fuck… James,” she whispered, arching and writhing back when he circled her again.

She was slowly coming undone, and he could see the hard press of engorged nipples through the thin cotton of her shirt. Leaning forwards he closed his mouth over one and was rewarded with a harsh gasp and tug of his hair. Biting softly, he played with her through her shirt as he gently circled her little button.

“Oh… oh my…” Franki panted, feeling a tightening sensation building in her belly. Pleasure poured from everywhere, throbbing and thrumming through her body like a bass drum.

“More?” he murmured against her chest, switching to the other breast.

“Da!” she cried out and felt the coolness of metal caress her. Hard and smooth, it pierced slowly through her lips and pressed deep inside, a strange but wonderful sensation that made her groan and arch her body, hips rocking forwards. “Bucky!” she squealed when that metal finger began to stroke in and out, grazing nerves and points of pleasure she hadn’t known existed.

“That’s the second one, baby,” he murmured, lifting his head to watch her fly. “You going to come for me, doll?” He could feel the tightening of her walls as her breathing changed to gasping little breaths and continued his torment of stroke and circle. Curling his finger, he found the last of her major pleasure spots and pressed against it. Her eyes widened, mouth falling open, and her nails suddenly dug into his shoulders. “And there’s the third. You with me, baby?”

“Buck… Bucky!” she squeaked as all the sensations grew to overwhelm her.

He switched his grip, his metal hand continued to play with her, thrusting a finger deep, rubbing the spot inside her, and retreating while his thumb now started to play with her pearl. His flesh hand went to her skull, cupping it in his big palm as her eyes clamped closed. “Easy, malyutka. Let it happen. Don’t fight it.” Drawing her in, he began to gently kiss her lips, plucking and pulling, licking at her teasingly until she let him in. Then, while the fluttering of her walls started around his finger and the bud beneath his thumb swelled further, he slowly made love to her mouth. Dragging his tongue over every surface, seeking every nook and cranny, he worshiped the woman that she was until her body slowly started to arch into his and she tightened further around his finger.

Pulling back only a hair’s breathed from her lips, he looked into dark silver eyes and murmured, “Come for me, Francessca. Let go. I’ve got you, baby.” And she did. Gloriously. Her body arched, her eyes went wide, and she clamped down around his finger so hard he groaned. A keening wail of intense pleasure fell from her lips, and a flush washed over all her skin. Then the spasms started, and he gently thrust into her, helping her ride out her first ever orgasm. 

Her mind went white with the sensation. It was like everything good and right and perfect in her world coalesced into glorious release before exploding outwards to fill her up. Every part of her, every cell and molecule throbbed with sensation. Every atom was alive for what felt like the first time in her entire existence. Nothing was numb. Nothing was dead. Nothing felt hollow or empty. She simply… felt. It was the most beautiful thing to ever happen to her.

“Snegopad…” she whispered, going limp against his warm, comforting chest.

“That good, huh?” he teased gently, but when the moisture dampened his collar, he gently extracted his hand from her core, an action that made her shudder, and brought the finger to his lips. He didn’t have the option of savouring the taste of her, not when tears were again raining down, but he would take the flavour of his woman in and know it. Sticking the finger in his mouth, he nearly groaned aloud for she was heaven. Sweet and tart and just… everything. Sucking it clean far quicker than he would have liked, Bucky cradled her close and stroked her spine. “Malen'kaya ten'? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” she breathed against his throat. “I am… alive. I feel… everything.” It was beyond her capacity to express how good she felt.

Smiling, Bucky managed to shift her shorts from the floor with his foot to his hand before drawing them back up her legs without ever letting go. Somehow he got them over her hips without dropping her off the shelf and then managed to collect her – blanket, teacup, and all – into his arms. She was pretty much asleep against him, and he wasn’t about to disturb the afterglow she was riding. “Let’s go to bed, moya zvezdochka.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, snuggling up against him, throwing an arm around his neck. “Da, ya tebya lyublyu, Bucky.”

He stopped instantly and snapped his eyes down to her face. The serene smile she wore, her eyes closed, melted his heart. “Franki?”

“Da…” she murmured, half asleep.

“Did you mean it?” he asked heart in his throat.

“Da. Lyublyu tebya vsem sertsem, vsey dushoyu.” She loved him with all her heart, with all her soul. Yawning, she turned her face into his chest. “You smell like winter in Siberia. Snow and smoke. I have always loved the snow,” she murmured.

“Damn. You are adorable,” he chuckled. Clearly, she was exhausted, her mind muddled up, but he was going to hold her to her muttered confession. Leaning down near her ear, he murmured, “I love you too, Franki. So fucking much it makes me stupid.”

“Mmm. That’s good,” she sighed, “And loving is not what makes you do the stupid things.”

She exhaled deeply, and he knew she was asleep, but he could only stand there grinning down at her. Even blissed out of her mind she still managed to tease him. “You’re going to be trouble, malyutka. For the rest of my life, you’re going to be nothing but trouble.” And he didn’t care one wit if she was because she was his and he was damn well going to keep her.

Shaking his head, Bucky headed for the kitchen, juggled sleeping woman and teacup to dump the latter in the sink before heading for his rooms. There was no reason to take her back to hers, not one that he wanted to think up at any rate. There were only a few hours left till most of the team would be up and he figured they’d rest better together. And, he wanted her there, in his bed with her scent on his sheets.

Stalking into his suite, Bucky shut the door softly behind him and skirted the sofa, making his way through the dark room easily. His blankets were tossed back, still, and he placed Francessca down on his bed. It had taken him years to get used to having a bed again. It was too soft, too squishy, too… nice. He’d slept on the floor for a while, curled up with a blanket, migrated to a chair once he’d grown more adjusted to the space, moved on to the couch once that had gotten uncomfortable, and had only just gotten used to the big bed a year or so back. Now, he felt spoiled because when they went on the missions that saw them roughing it, he missed his bed. It was a stupid thing to miss, but he did.

Seeing Franki in it was going to make it even harder to leave now.

Covering her gently, he watched her roll into a ball, tuck her face into his pillow, and nearly groaned when she purred like a kitten. Taking a fortifying breath, he stalked silently into the bathroom where he stripped naked and chucked his soiled boxers at the hamper. She’d come around his finger and he’d lost it in his underwear like a fifteen-year-old virgin. Thank god she hadn’t noticed. But he’d watched her come undone, felt her splinter apart in the most magnificent way, and hadn’t been able to control the visceral reaction of his body at watching his woman reach her peak for the very first time. It had been… magnificent.

Cleaning up, he made his way silently back into the room to retrieve a fresh pair of boxers before circling the bed and crawling in behind Franki. The braid she wore was thick and long and he had intense visions of wrapping it around his fist as he thrust repeatedly into her sweet, tight body. It was a thought that had him instantly semi-hard again and he sighed, knowing he done it to himself. Sighing a second time, he curled himself around Franki and drew her in close. Resting his flesh hand against her stomach, he slipped the metal one beneath her pillow and buried his nose in the delectable scent that was her hair, unaware of the goofy grin that was plastered on his face when he dozed off.

Next Chapter

[swan1974-blog]

Swan and Sam fanfiction

6 year old Sam gripped her doll close to her, looking vigilantly up and down the quiet sunny street for any sign of cars coming her way. Noticing that the coast was clear, she began to walk across the road. There was a small screech of breaks and she frowned as a boy veered over to her on his bike. It was Billy. He stood a good few inches above her, his stocky build making him look a little older. A smug, naughty grin flashed across his face as he stopped literally at her side. Sam turned to walk away. Then suddenly felt his podgy hands push hard against her back and she flew forward onto the hard tarmac. She gave a small shriek as her doll toppled out of her hands. Her knees scraped fiercely against the hard ground. The palm of her hands skidded against the gravel and she began to sob. Billy gave a cruel laugh as he spun away, off down the street. With anguished tears streaming down her face, she grabbed her doll and staggered to her feet. She was soon running down the path to her home and flung the door opened, slamming it behind her as she scurried into the kitchen. "Daddy!" Sam sobbed. Her bottom lip stuck out as she pouted in dismay. Swan snubbed his razor out in a nearby ashtray, his eyes wide with concern at her sobbing face. "What's wrong, baby girl?" Her body shook again as she stopped before him, her hands were twisting and turning her doll's red dress tightly. She sniffled and sobbed again. Reaching out to her,swan lifted her effortlessly onto the edge of the table before him, "C'mon sweetheart. Tell daddy what happened" he paused, pondering silently. "Did Nancy and Tina hurt you? Did they do anything to you?" Sam swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "No, it wasn't them. They had to go home. I was walking back to the house, when Billy came up to me on his bike…" her voice faltered off as she saw her father's eyes narrow in disdain, his jaw clenching tightly in fury at the mere mention of the boy's name. Her eyes flickered to the left as she heard the crunching of aluminium. Her father's grip on the can tightening ever so slowly, his fingers curled around the red coloured can. A flicker of rage flashed across his face. Swan slowly took a deep breath and exhaled, "What did he do, honey?" She wiped away at her tears that trickled down both her cheeks and clutched her doll even more tightly to her chest, "He stopped and pushed me. He was laughing and then rode away on his bike. I didn't do anything to him to make him push me, I swear Daddy! He just pushed me in my back and I fell forward" she sobbed again, "I hurt myself" He lowered his eyes as she lifted the rim of her dress up, revealing a small bloodied graze on her right knee. His heart pounded in his ears, his blood was fucking boiling in fury! Soon, his grip on the can increased and in a snap the can folded in on itself. The remaining alcohol spilled over the rim of the can onto the table. How dare that little cunt do that to her? To his child! He was tortured by little fucks like him during his own childhood. There was no way in hell he was going to allow a bastard like Billy do that to his child. His lips curled into a snarl as he hissed, "The little fucker" Sam flinched at this. Swan never swore in front of her. Never! Perhaps telling him was a bad idea. He looked so calm, but she could see from his eyes that he was angry. Furious to say the least. Withdrawing his hand from the crushed beer can,swan looked down at her bloodied knee and gently touched it with his finger tips. Sam hissed and jerked back in pain, "It's sore daddy!" "It's okay, princess" he cooed and began to calm her by stroking her cheek in a small circular motion, "I'll clean it up and out a plaster on it, okay?" She placed her doll at her side on the table and took a deep breath. He withdrew his hand from her face and watched in silent amusement as her expression turned into anger, her hands curling into tight fists as her rage began to take over. Her eyes were glazed with loathing. Directed at the boy who had caused her pain. "I hate him daddy! He can be so mean. He should get his contract for being naughty!" He gave a depraved grin at her little statement, "Contract?" She nodded vigorously, "Yes. You said to me before that all the naughty children get their contracts. Billy should get his!" His grew wider and he chucked wickedly "Well, you are right" he said with a dark smile, "Billy does need to take his contract and sign his soul to me!" Sam nodded quickly in agreement. "Don't worry, sweetheart" swan gave a cool smile. "Daddy will take care of him!" Sam shot him a bewildered look and opened her mouth to speak, but he hushed her. "Ssh, just you stay here and I'll get some cotton wool for your knee" He rose from the table and went to collect a small first aid box from the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink. Placing it on the table at her side he popped open the lid and took out a small anti-septic bottle and a few pieces of cotton wool. He dabbed the liquid onto a ball of wool and pressed it lightly against the lesion. She let out a small whimper as a stinging sensation swept over her wound, "Oww…" "Just take a deep breath. I'll be a few more seconds" Sam gripped the edge of the table with her fingers, chewing nervously on her bottom lip and watched as he applied the cotton wool again. After cleaning the wound he ripped apart a small plaster and applied it to her wound. "There you go" he gave her a comforting smile, "Do you want me to kiss it all better?" She gave a small nod. He smirked and leaned down, his lips pressing lightly on the top of the plaster. "That's it all better! You going to be okay, Sam?" "Yeah, can I go to my room?" He lifted her off the table and handed her the doll, "Away you go. I'll be up in a few minutes" Sam gave a quick, shy nod and ran to the stairs. As she entered her room she slumped despondently on her bed. She was now in a fool mood. Why did there have to be nasty little boys like Billy? It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to be pushed! She never done anything to hurt him. Looking down at her doll she scowled and threw it to the ground in anger. She really hoped that he would be punished for what he did to her. Hopefully her daddy would talk to his parents, then he would be grounded or maybe spanked for being naughty. That was what should happen. She pushed herself back against the headboard of her bed, crossing her arms indignantly as she waited for her father to come up. It didn't take long for him enter her room with a large glass of lemonade and plate of chocolate chip cookies. Her head lifted up to his as he sat at her side. "There you go" Swan smiled and placed the plate and glass on the dresser. Sam smirked and grabbed a cookie, taking a bite. "Are you going to speak to Billy's parents?" Swan stared down at her quietly for a moment. Then said. "No, I'll deal with him myself. Don't you worry" She took another bite of her cookie, gulping nervously. "Deal with him? Are you going to talk to him daddy?" He smiled shrewdly at her. "Yes, I'm going to have a little talk with him. I'll take care of him!" She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "How about we go out? Mmm? I'll take you somewhere to cheer you up?" Her face brightened at his suggestion, "Really? Can we go to the movies and can I get pizza too? Please?" "Yes, we can. But first, you go and wash your face and I'll meet you downstairs, okay?" He smiled. She nodded eagerly and sprang forward to give him a hug, "Love you!" He chuckled and kissed her forehead lightly, "I love you too honey" Sam stood outside her father's bedroom door. Again contemplating should she wake him up from his sleep? She didn't want him to be angry at being disturbed. It was really late, near midnight. But then again today when he was watching the news he was in a really chipper and happy mood… Earlier that evening - 6pm Sam sat beside her father in the TV room and pouted sadly. For the last twenty minutes she had been pleading with her to allow her up to her bedroom to play with her toys. But he was having none of it. To her it wasn't fair, she had finished her homework, helped tidy away the dishes. But still his answer was no. He was adamant that he wanted her to stay with him downstairs as he wanted to show her something on the television. She had asked him what it was, but his reply was that it was a 'surprise'. She frowned from her seat on the sofa and twisted around to him. Maybe she could ask him one more time, "Daddy? Please can I go up to my room? I'll be real quiet!" He gently clutched her right hand and squeezed it firmly, albeit a little too firmly as she gave a small wince. His voice was thick with authority as he scolded her, "No, now you've asked me about five times already! Don't ask me again or I will start to get angry. Right?" Her eyes locked with his, seeing the simmering rage burning inside his eyes. Nodding quickly she apologised, "I'm sorry, daddy. I won't ask again" Swan smirked and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand. "Good girl, now it's about to start" Turning her face towards the television she frowned in dismay as the 6 o'clock news report came on. There was one thing she hated watching and it was the news, it was so boring. "Good afternoon, I'm Richard Young ad this is the 6 o'clock news" a middle aged man sat behind the news desk, with a grim look carved across his face. "This morning several body parts on a satantic contract were found on the old industrial estate at Rosewood Road. It is believed to be the remains of young Billy Morgan, who was reported missing yesterday afternoon after not appearing home from school…" Sam stared in terror as she listened to the broadcaster describe how three body parts were found, two severed hands and a right leg thats knee had been savagely ripped to shreds. Her mouth went agape as a small startled gasp floated from her throat as the picture of Billy appeared on screen. She heard a dark malevolent chuckle come from her father who was staring at her horrified face. He was savouring it. Turning around she saw him smiling devilishly as her, "I told you princess, that I would take care of him!" he gave her a impish wink. She swallowed worryingly, "You took him away?" He chuckled decadently and nodded. The look on his face was one she had never seen before. Dark, twisted. Pure evil. She nervously looked at the TV and reluctantly asked, "Did you give him his contract?" He pulled her onto his lap and ran his right hand through her long locks that for once where pushed back from her face by a red hair band. Kissing her forehead once he replied darkly, "Yes, daddy gave him his contract. Just like you said, sweetheart. He needed to take his contract for hurting you. No one hurts my little baby girl and gets away with it!" She nodded once. "No, if anyone else starts to bully you. You let daddy know and I'll take care of them. Understand, honey?" Sam stared up at him with wide frightened eyes and gave a slow nod. Did he really mean this? Would he protect in her such a way that he would hurt other children who bullied her? He would really do that for her? Sam's little body gave an involuntary at the conversation he had with her this evening. For the first time in a long time she had seen a dark side to him. The way he chuckled and smiled menacingly at the news report of Billy's dismembered remains being found made her feel incredibly easy. He even admitted to her that he had taken Billy away. He had given him his 'contract'. But now, she was petrified. Not of her father, but what would happen to him and to her if anyone found how that he was the man who had taken Billy Morgan. They would put him in jail that was for sure, then she would end up alone. She didn't want that. It was only fair if she shared her misgivings with him. Raising her right hand she grabbed the handle, twisting the knob and eased the door opened. The only sound emanating from within the room was the soft snoring of her father from the double bed. Trotting slowly over to the side of the bed she took a deep calming breath. She had to do this, she had to talk to him. "Daddy!" she whispered. He didn't stir from his slumber. She reached out to tug the blankets around his body. Then called his name a little louder. "Daddy, wake up! Please!" Swan grumbled softly as he came to. When he opened his eyes he stared into the crying face of his daughter. "Sam,what's wrong sweetheart?" Sam sniffled and watched as he quickly sat up, switching on the small lamp to his left. "I need talk to you daddy. Please!" He frowned, noticing that her body was trembling. He reached out to her and she was soon straddling his lap. "What is it baby?" "I'm scared" Sam whimpered. "Scared? What of?" his voice was thick with concern. Sam pouted in despair, "That I'll be taken away from you" A look of incredulity etched across his face. What had happened? Fuck, did she say something about her mother to someone? Had one of those pathetic teachers pestered her about her mother again? Perhaps pressurised her and did she finally cave in this time? Did she tell them what had happened last year? This wasn't good. He curved his right hand under her chin and tipped her face up to his. "Have you broken your promise?" "What?" Sam cried and shook her head. "I haven't said anything about mommy! I swear, honest! I've kept our pinkie promises! You're not allowed to break pinkie promises!" He sighed in relief. She was still keeping her word. Just like he taught her to. "Then what is it? Why do you think you'll taken away from me?" "Because what happened to Billy" she gulped and averted his gaze from his. "Y-you took him away and let the devil kill him, didn't you?" "Yes, you know I did" Swan replied, "I told you this evening. We watched the news together" She nodded curtly. "You hurt him. You let the devil kill him. Is that right daddy?" Swan took in the sight of her shivering, sobbing face. She was apprehensive and on edge. Was she scared of him? It was something that he never considered when he was showing her the news broadcast earlier. It never crossed his mind. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him. He was her father. It should never be like that. He had to find a way to soothe her nerves. "Yes, daddy punished him. He hurt you. I don't like anyone hurting my little girl" "W-what if someone finds out?" her eyes went wide with fright. He slowly began to caress her face, "They won't" She shook her head, "But what if they do. Uncle Paul lives across the street! What if he comes and asks you questions? Maybe he already knows and-" He hushed her, sensing her growing anxiety. The thought of being without him horrified her. "Sam, it's okay. Honestly, no one will find out!" His words weren't soothing her as she continued. "But daddy what if they do. You'll be put in jail and I'll be all alone" her next words came out in frantic short sobs, "I-I don't want to be alone daddy! I don't want to l-lose you. You're all I have!" Swan frowned, his heart was breaking seeing her like this. Maybe he shouldn't have shown her the news, she was becoming paranoid at what was going to happen to her. He pried the doll from her hands and placed it to his right on the other side of the bed. "Baby girl, no one is going to take you from me. No one will find out it was me who took Billy away. They're stupid, the police are stupid in this town" "Stupid?" Sam sniffled and looked at him in confusion. "They don't know what to do" he explained, "I was very careful when I took Billy away. I made sure no one noticed that I had taken him away. It was all very secretive" "It was?" she looked up at with hope in her eyes. "They won't know?" "No, they won't" Swan smiled warmly at her and drew her close. "You have nothing to worry about. Okay?" She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. "I don't want you to ever leave me daddy" "I'll never leave you. I love you too much to let anyone take you away from me" Her head nodded against his shoulder, then she leaned back slightly. "You said to me today that if anyone bullies me that you'll take them away? Did you really mean that?" "Oh I meant every word" swan said, a darkness tainted his voice. "You're my little baby girl. You're very precious to me. No one is allowed to hurt you. I mean, in any way. It's not right. So, if they do I will punish them" A knot formed in her throat. The look in his eyes was full of callous, of wicked intent. The thought of him taking another boy or girl away if they dared to hurt or bully her, well it made her tense. But then why did she also feel a little proud that he would do that for her? He was her protector. Father's were meant to be protect their children. That was all he was doing, wasn't it? "You understand what I'm saying, don't you sweetheart?" Swan asked as a furtive smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Yes" Sam nodded slowly, "I understand daddy" "Good" his smirk turned into a triumphant grin. "Now, is there anyone else who is bullying you in school?" Her head shook in discord, "No, no one!" "Okay" Swan nodded. "If they do, you have to tell me straight away. Promise me you will?" Her bottom lip went agape, but then she saw that his right hand was stretched out to her. His pinkie was extended to her. It was clear that they had to seal this new promise like they did the other promises. She licked her dry lips and straightened out her right pinkie to him. They instantly curled their fingers around one another as she finally responded. "I promise daddy" "That's my girl" She gave a shy smile and climbed off his lap, laying down beside him. The room was soon plunged into darkness as he turned off the light. As he snuggled down at her side, she turned to face him and closed her eyes. She felt his right hand stroke her cheek lightly and then after a few seconds he withdrew it from her face. It was a few minutes later until she opened her eyes again, turning on her side to look up at his sleeping face in the pale moon-light. It wasn't long until she began to ponder over her father's demeanour he had showed to her over the last few days. This was a side she had thought and hoped would never been shown again. But he had. Would he show this side of his personality to him again? It didn't scare her, it only confused her. Dare she admit it, that this side of him even fascinated her? Perhaps in time she would grow accustomed to it and accept it, if he decided to show more of this side of him to her that is. There was one fact that would never change and that was they loved each other. And that was all that mattered to her.

[khelinski]

Duval St.

I started this ‘Wastin’ Away’-semi sequel back in 2013. 1,000 words into it - I then got stuck in pesky writer’s block. For whatever reason at the time, I couldn’t get my thinker to keep the story going. I then placed it to the side - and went on to write the \m/ novel (not a bad trade-off).

From time to time, I would pull the story out, dust it off, and attempt to continue with it. Again, for whatever reason - I kept getting stuck with it.

Putting together the stories/pieces of writing for ‘Black Clouds & Silver Linings,’ I played around with the idea of reviving this piece exclusively for the book.

Proud to say, I finally finished it.  8-)

It’s not exactly how I pictured it 4 years ago (then again, my life/head was quite different 4 years ago). And I originally did not have a particular Key West doll featured in the story. I think that might be the missing puzzle piece to why I kept getting stuck.

Anyways - enjoy...

***

Once upon a time, there was a happening place in the Key West Island of Florida called Wastin' Away. It was founded by a rocker name Jim ‘Buffett’ Hill. He had a crazy idea of turning one of his anthem songs into a family restaurant/bar. People thought he was nuts.  But he had the last laugh when Wastin' Away's turned up in every tourist city in the world. Jim Hill's wealth exceeded everyone's expectations, but he knew Wastin' Away would appeal to the masses, up until the day Jim Hill died. Like all great companies founded by revered men/women, Wastin' Away turned into corporate America until there was nothing left but novelty and history. Companies do not thrive on nostalgia, just current profit. So all the Wastin' Away's around the world slowly got bought out by various companies. No one wanted to touch the Wastin' Away brand name, just the restaurants/bars.  

           The pink exterior building, standing tall on good ol' Duval Street in Key West, was the only Wastin' Away left, that was, until the last manager couldn't keep it running anymore. He was devastated, as he found life and love in Wastin' Away years ago.

           Even though Duval Street's history pre-dates Jim Hill's Wastin' Away, the closing of the beloved restaurant took a big hit for locals on Key West (not to mention all the hurricanes that kept rockin’ the port). Sure enough, other businesses started closing down until there was nothing left but one lousy hole-in-the-wall bar. Soon that closed down, which then resulted to the port; Key West was known for, to close down.  

           The Key West Island turned into a ghost town, Duval Street being in the middle of its desertion.    

Our adventure began years later...

The Doll

The palm trees chhh in the breezy air as the sun sets toward the ocean water. A perfect evening for an audience to awe at, except, there was none. No one witnessed the beautiful sunset, except a male doll, that was sitting against a palm tree nearby. The doll was out of place in the designated spot, but was a resident of Key West. His original residency was 534 Eaton Street. At some point in time, 3501 South Roosevelt Boulevard became his home. Now, the doll’s home was all of Key West. No one knew how the doll got around, for the doll was just a doll, dressed as a sailor. And no one was around to wonder how the doll got around.

           Only three noises filled the air: the sound of the ocean waves splashing in the water, chirping of birds, and the palm trees chhh in the air.

           The doll looked on to the spectacle in front of him. He had a smirk on his face. The doll was 40 inches tall and stuffed with wood wool. His skin, though faded for the doll is an old doll, was beige.  

           A bird flew by and landed near the doll. The doll didn’t move. The bird did, chirping to the doll, to the air, to anyone. A naked eye would’ve missed it entirely, but the doll’s head moved ever so slightly. That spooked the bird enough to fly away. The doll’s smirk doesn’t leave his face. The smirk never leaves his face.  

Remember That Place?

No one had walked along Duval Street in quite some time. There was never any reason to. Everyone migrated north without a proper send off to the island. It was as if a zombie apocalypse occurred and nothing survived except a few obscure wild animals and birds. The island itself had not been closed off from the public. The public just had zero interest in the island, except wanderers every now and then; people who will try to scrape whatever quick buck they could find.

           Not too far away, a car approached the deserted street. An old and rugged Pontiac Vibe (the last of the line of Vibe’s, before GM folded Pontiac) stopped mid-half toward the empty docks. A faded ‘UNHURRY’ bumper sticker is proudly placed bottom right corner back window. Underneath the back window resided a Michigan license plate. A couple (male/female) sat in the car and was in complete glory with what they were seeing. A CD of Ellie Goulding was heard from the stereo speakers in the car.  

           They didn't say anything for quite a while. They just sat there, eye-balling what once was Duval Street. Finally, after what seemed like the duration of a movie running time, the girl spoke:

           "This is exactly what my dad had described to me. The layout. And the feeling. Can't you feel it? He used to tell me all the time, 'it's not just a street - it's a state of mind.' I used to think he was crazy. But now I can sense it."

           "Yeah.  It's a shame the party didn't last," the fellow sitting next to the girl said.  

           "Hey man, its 5 somewhere!"

           The girl sitting in the driver's side, tapping her fingers to “Dead in the Water” with all sorts of excitement built up, went by the name Hope Martin. She has her own television show on the TLC network called, Remember That Place?, a reality TV program that rediscovered old business's and landmarks that once existed.  

           Her cameraman/fiancé, Guy Perry, who traveled with Hope wherever Hope wandered off to, sat next to her in the Vibe.

It was Guy’s idea of visiting the joyful EYS Theater in Buena Heights, MI, which was the location of the mass murderer Norm Loomis. Loomis was infamous for killing random people and stuffing their body parts in theater seats.

           The EYS episode earned Remember That Place? ratings and an Emmy (TLC was smart to save that EYS episode for a season finale). Since then, Remember That Place? had been a top rated show on TLC, upstaging Here Comes Honey Boo Boo in her 20s,  49 Kids and Counting, and Say Yes to the Dress in the Ghetto.  

           Hope Martin gained the power to travel wherever she wanted to go. All expense covered by TLC, of course. She had 4 delightful seasons on the air, and was finishing up her fifth season finale with a place she had been saving: Duval Street. Ever since she was a little girl and had heard her dad ramble and rave about the Key West Island/Duval Street/and Wastin' Away, her intentions of launching the show was to cover Duval Street.

Hope turned off the car's ignition and got out of the car. Guy followed suit. He walked around the car and grabbed Hope around his arms. They stood still, Guy cuddling Hope, and watch the tail end of a picture-perfect sunset that you would see featured in a tropical calendar.  

           "So we sleep in the car tonight?" Guy asked.  

           "No. We will drive back to the motel. I just wanted to see the sunset. Tomorrow, we will explore the street. My priority is the dock, lighthouse, and Wastin' Away. We will shoot the day after. I know we usually shoot as we explore, but this is special to me, you know."

Guy knew alright. He had been hearing about Wastin' Away ever since they met seven years ago as they both were finishing their Journalism degrees at Columbia College in Chicago. At first, they both despised each other (annoyance started with the classes they unintentionally took together). But then they realized their chemistry when they both had to do a project together. Romance blossomed soon after.

           Hope ended up getting an internship one summer, following the My Strange Addiction crew around (Hope suggested to TLC that Guy could freelance as a camera man, TLC took her suggestion). Hope then turned the My Strange Addiction ratings around by having an entire season focused on people's strange addictions to fads (the Stuck in the Twilight Saga episode earned TLC an Emmy). TLC was quite impressed by Hope's natural (and journalistic) approach, they gave her freedom to create her own show.  Remember That Place? was born.  

           Guy never wanted to be involved with the reality TV mishmash. His dream was to be part of the camera magic over at CNN. But when things started to move quickly for Hope and her success at TLC, he felt obligated to stay with Hope. They both got paid very well and he still was able to at least experience part of his dream of traveling the globe. After the success of the first season of Remember That Place?, Guy proposed to Hope. They were still undecided when to get married. Hope's mom kept pushing the matter, but neither Hope/Guy was ready just yet. There were still lots to see/do before they tie the knot. 

Once the night skies emerged after the sun made its final bow to the two audience members, the couple got back into the car and drove to their motel, which was located ten miles away from the island.  

           Neither of them noticed the out of place doll that sat against the palm tree near where their car was parked. Had they noticed the doll, they would have also noticed the doll had moved on its own from one palm tree to another.  

           Hope and Guy got into their cheap motel room, fooled around for a bit, took a shower, and fooled around once again (young love). The TV was on (but muted) with a bold Breaking News banner to the bottom right of the TV screen. A caption read:

           "PIRATES ATTACKS AGAIN IN CARIBBEAN SEA.”

           Footage of a recently attacked Disney Magic cruise ship and sound bites of the latest attack filled the TV screen. But Hope/Guy doesn't pay attention to the TV. They continued to fool around until they both fell asleep in each other's arms. The muted news broadcast continued until late at night, when an informational kicked in, selling the latest and greatest unnecessary Universal Migrate products to the gullible American masses. 

Wastin' Away

The pink exterior was not so pink anymore. The color faded to an ugly brownish-vomit color. Hurricanes over the years took the beauty away from Wastin' Away, giving the name of what once was a popular hot spot, new meaning.  

           The plane across Wastin' Away was mostly disassembled...

           Hope and Guy stood in front of Wastin' Away, holding hands.  

           "Soooo, do you want to go in, or admire the run-down place some more," Guy asked.

           "My dad never took me to see where he met my mom, where they fell in love, where he worked most of his life. He always talked about this place, and had plenty of pictures to show me. Seriously, this is the first time I've been here, Guy. Understand?"

           He nodded his head in agreement.

           "There's something I want to check out first. Follow me," Hope said as she tugged Guy's hand she was holding. 

They backtracked to a lighthouse, which hasn't been in operation since the island was vacated. If there were no boats to dock, there was no point in a lighthouse. Who was going to maintain it anyhow, if there was no one on the island?

           Hope spotted what she was looking for, a palm tree on the beach near the lighthouse. She walked toward it. She still was holding Guy's hand. She lets go and examined the bark on the tree. She saw what she wanted to see. She pointed at it. Guy leaned forward and saw what appeared to be a carving that read:

K.M. ♥ L.F.

           Guy noticed Hope crying. He wrapped his arms around Hope. He knew how important this trip/episode was for Hope, but didn't realize how hard it would be for her. She had been so gung-ho about doing the Wastin' Away episode, but this wasn't just a random place to film.

Once she controlled her emotions, they walked slowly into what used to be Wastin’ Away. It was nothing at all as Hope’s dad described it to be. It didn’t even represent a restaurant/bar.    

           There was a big open space that occupied the inside of the ruined building. There was no sea salt scent that Hope could tell. Instead, there was a mixture of mold and nature. Hope still was crying, but her tears were controlled with some minor sniffles. Guy kept asking Hope if she was all right. She shook off her emotions and turned on her investigative work mode.

           They walked through room after room. Much like the front house of the restaurant, there was no representation of what her dad kept romanticizing about. It was a wonder how and why Hope’s parents even fell in love with each other at the same place Hope was currently looking at.

Hope strolled into the back office. Even the desk, file cabinets, the safe – everything was raided. There were a few framed newspaper articles that were hung on the wall. Hope glanced at each one. The first article was an old article about the grand opening of Wastin’ Away, with a few quotes from Jim Hill. The second article was a travel review about Wastin’ Away. The third article had nothing to do with Wastin’ Away. It was an exposé about a fellow that quit his job in Orlando and walked across America.

“Random,” Hope said to herself.

           She didn’t notice that while she was looking at the framed newspaper clippings, there was a century old doll sitting against the wall across from her. The doll slowly tilted its head from the left to the right. The dolls eyes were always staring with interest wherever the doll was staring at. In this case, the doll was staring at Hope with great interest. The doll hadn’t seen company around in years, with the exception of wild life. Hope was a lot more interesting to look at than wildlife.

           Hope turned around without looking at the doll, and walked out of the office. She found Guy, whom found a beat up menu from the restaurants former years. Guy kept chuckling over the prices. Whenever you go out to eat, just remember that prices will always be cheaper years ago.

           Guy handed the menu to Hope. She grabbed it out of his hands and looked it over without commentary. She nodded her head, and placed the menu back on the ground. She then sighed and said:

           “This is harder than I thought.”

           “We’ve…you’ve…this show has built up to this moment here. The whole show is about forgotten places. Most of the places we filmed at were in ruins already. It just so happens, Wastin’ Away has a more personal touch. That will make this episode extra special.”

She nodded her head in agreement. She knew all this. She prepared herself mentally for this. But emotionally, she was a wreck. She has been a wreck for years. If her dad hadn’t died from a heart-attack during the filming of the second season of the show, she would have covered Wastin’ Away sooner. But then she stalled. And stalled. And stalled.

           They tackled a dozen places. Freestyle Music Park aka Hard Rock Park in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The Land of Oz in Beech Mountain, North Carolina. Rosewell, New Mexico. 112 Ocean Avenue - Amityville, NY 1170. Castle Rock, Maine. They roamed wherever they could – leaving Wastin’ Away for yet another episode, season, year. Once the inevitable came, that Hope couldn’t avoid Key West any longer – she woman’ed up – putting on her big girl pants, and pressed on. But she knew deep down inside her sappy emotions – this would be a hard one for her. 

They walked back to the car, got in, and drove off. Guy had Outsider’s Vengeance Untitled blaring in the stereo, an oldie but a goldie. They both took turns with each other’s music choices – an arrangement most couples make that have contrasting music tastes. Hope enjoyed pop. Guy preferred rock ‘n’ roll. They sometimes argued which was better (and those arguments can get brutal), but they often compromise after make-up sex.

As they drove off, they didn’t notice a worn out ship porting near the docks. They also didn’t notice the doll, sitting next to the pink exterior Wastin’ Away building, eyeing the incoming ship. A naked eye might’ve noticed that the doll’s smirk widens. If the doll had any thoughts, its current thought would be, “things are about to get more interesting around here.” But dolls don’t have thoughts. Dolls were just dolls. Right?

Guy and Hope, in their ‘unhurry’ Vibe, drove to a near-by Publix, bought some unhealthy array of snackies and wine-coolers. Once they arrived at their motel room, they partied down and fooled around. Hope’s nerves calmed down during the angst and young love exploit. Neither one of them knew (or could predict) that this would be the last time they would be having sex together. Had they grasped the tragic realization that one of them would be dead the next day, they would have gotten in their car and drove away – far, far away.

           Unlucky fate had other plans under its fateful sleeve.

While they were cuddling each other in bed (for the last time), some miles away, the doll that doesn’t have thoughts because the doll was just a doll, walked toward the ship, getting a closer look. The doll that dressed as a sailor might’ve looked out of place given the circumstances. Normal circumstances of a doll walking upright by itself are not normal by normal standards. Abnormality was the new norm here. The doll’s thoughts, if the doll had thoughts, kept going back to the question of why the ship was here, who was on the ship, and when will the nice looking couple come back. Of course, dolls don’t have thoughts.

           This doll did.

Sloppy Joe’s

Residing on 201 Duval Street was Sloppy Joe’s. Was, being the operative word. Other than Wastin’ Away - Sloppy Joe’s was the happenin’ place of Key West. It was founded on December 5, 1933. One of the most famous patrons of Sloppy Joe’s was writer Ernest Hemingway. The old man loved the sight of the sea, to have and have not the sun rise over the water as he had a couple of cold one’s at good ol’ Sloppy Joe’s. Fast forward many years later, Sloppy Joe’s installed a live webcam feed 24/7 – so anyone that needed a Key West fix – they could go online and watch weird lookin’ peeps hover around the happenin’ place called Sloppy Joe’s. Fast forward many years later, Sloppy Joe’s was just an abandoned worn out building.

Hope wanted to film there first, to capture what used to be a place with a heavy amount of traffic, turned into a ghost town. Guy aimed his camera at his fiancée, and filmed her walking through the remains of Sloppy Joe’s. Like Wastin’ Away, the establishment was hardly recognizable – with looters taking whatever they could get their hands on through the years it was abandoned. Hope doesn’t add any commentary. Usually the sound bites were added on during post-production/editing.  

           They walked into Sloppy Joe’s while filming, they didn’t notice a group of men with guns that were following them. The group of men with guns surrounded the ruined Sloppy Joe’s. While surrounding the building that was once named Sloppy Joe’s, the group of men with guns didn’t notice a doll that was following them. Though the doll was just a doll, the doll had discovered that these men with guns were not a friendly bunch. The doll that was just a doll dressed as a sailor witnessed a rape and a killing aboard the ship the night before. The doll that was just a doll had seen a lot of spooky moments in its long history of its existence, but nothing as gruesome as a rape and a killing. The doll that was just a doll didn’t like the sight of such sick perversion. The doll that was just a doll didn’t know what the word, perversion, meant. But the doll that was just a doll knew these men with guns were bad news. The doll that was just a doll wasn’t too far off from the truth. These men were bad news, right down to their very bones. They were pirates.

           They had no affiliation to any particular nation, for they were a forgotten band of men. They had no ties to any political agenda, for they were equal opportunists: they hated everyone. Some of them were white. Some of them were black. They didn’t speak of any distinct language; for their tongues were a mixed-match of English, Spanish, and Creole (they understood each other very well as they communicated in different languages in a single sentence). A few years back, they stole a ship and continuously attacked cruise ships. The Navy and the Coastguard haven’t been able to catch them, for they attack quickly, kill swiftly, pillage efficiently, and select one or two unlucky souls that they rape (and kill) later onboard their own ship. They’ve successfully used the Key West port as their harbor, since there hasn’t been any activity in the area for years.

           Until now…

Duval St. Dead

Guy had his camera aimed at Hope. Guy walked backwards out of Sloppy Joe’s as he was filming Hope. Neither of them noticed the pirates surrounding the building. Neither of them noticed the gun aimed at Guy’s head. Neither of them noticed the gun that was aimed at Guy’s head, blasted a bullet. Hope didn’t notice a bullet that went through the back of Guy’s head, and into the camera that aimed at her direction. But she noticed the loud BANG, and a near-second later, Guy falling down. Guy’s camera dropped to the ground as he plopped, headfirst. Blood was gushing out of the back of his head like lava out of a volcano.

Crying. A universal human emotion. Every human being at certain points in their life, cried. And every child cried often. A baby cried, on average, two hours a day. That decreased as the baby grew from infant, to child, to teen, to adult. Still. Every human being has cried. And the crying often looked the same, sounded the same, and felt the same. A deep heavy feeling overcame you. Mostly out of pain (physically or emotionally). Tears started dripping from your eyelids. Your facial expression changed. Your body was about to pour out an outburst. Your nose produced a yucky liquidly substance. Your mouth exploded with an ear-piercing wailing.

           Hope started going through the motions (and emotions) of crying, but her body jolted to sheer shock as a loud explosion erupted from the docks half a mile away. The pirates, that would take such pleasure out of a single, lonely, abandoned female in the middle of nowhere, ignored such prospects and they all took off toward the location of the loud noise.

           Hope knew her chances of survival were slim to none if she stuck around and mourned the loss of her fiancé. She glanced at him one last time, tears (and sweat) coming down her face in equal measure. She bolted, running as fast as she could to her Vibe. Once she got inside, she put the key in the ignition, turned on the motor, and slammed on the gas pedal. Her wheels squealed as her car quickly vanished away from the Duval St. Dead. Her ‘unhurry’ Vibe was in a real damn hurry.

Lady Gaga “Hey Girl” was blasting in the stereo. Hope didn’t react to the music at first. Then as she approached the bridge leading out of Key West, she turned off the radio. Tears were still pouring down her face.

           The music was off, but she could still hear the song with imaginary lyrics in her head. Lady Gaga was singing:

           “HEY GIRL, GUY MET LEAD!”

           Florence Welch was singing:

           “HEY GIRL, HE GOT SHOT IN THE HEAD!”

           They both were singing the chorus together:

           “HEY GIRL, NOW YOUR MAN IS DEAD!”

Hope parked at a near-by gas station, and cried. The vibe in her Vibe was somber, grief, and the added bonus of WTF on the side. As Hope’s hopeless feelings poured out, she didn’t notice that she had a passenger in the back seat of the car. The passenger was just a doll. But clearly, this was not just any doll. No doll in the sad history of dolls was capable of the things this doll had accomplished. Well, with the exception of Annabelle, or Mandy, or Sheriff Woody, or Chucky.

           The doll that was just a doll caused the pirates’ ship to explode. No explanation to how, since no one was around to see such an occurrence (and the doll was just a doll, after all).

Robert

Myths and legends surrounded the existence of the doll that was just a doll. Some of it was true. Some of it wasn’t true. The doll itself never knew how it came to be. One day, the doll was enjoying a nice, grey day in Germany at the turn of the century. The next day, the doll traveled all the way to the Sunshine State (not by choice) – which looked quite grey between the months of May to August.

           The doll had been coined with the name, ‘Robert,’ because it was owned by a man that were, you guessed it, coined with the name, ‘Robert,’ but the doll that was just a doll never considered itself Robert. In fact, the doll never took it upon itself to be referred to as anything other than a doll.

           There may have been a few alleged casualties around the doll’s presence – but the doll didn’t have anything to do with such tragic circumstances. It was all circumstantial, and after all – the doll was just a doll!

           After the man that was coined the name, ‘Robert,’ passed on (not by the doll’s hands, if one pondered such sick thoughts), the doll had been housed (and showcased) in a glass case for all the public to see. The doll never understood the appeal of its own existence. Sure, it moved its head ever so often, and did things no doll could do (with the exception of Amanda, or Harold, or Joliet, or Buzz Lightyear, or André Toulon’s Blade).

           The doll was never truly evil, just misunderstood. He was a misfit toy in the scheme of things. Okay, so he could move, and walk, and widen its smirk, and giggle, and occasionally wreck havoc if a picture was taken of the doll without the doll’s permission.

The doll leaped out of the seat of Hope’s Vibe and crawled underneath the passenger seat. Wherever Hope was going, the doll wanted to partake. He had been a Key West resident longer than most, and longed to get away. But a doll that was just a doll can’t go wastin’ away, can it?

           This doll could.

Hope

At first, Hope’s hopeful future seemed hopeless. Once she got her nerves together, she called the police and reported a murder in Key West. The police arrived at the scene, arrested the group of pirates that was loitering in the area. They had no identity on them. The news media tried to find dirt on them, but there was none. Prior to their piracy, they had no backstory of any kind to fulfill the ‘whys’ and the ‘hows.’ There was just the ‘whens’ and the ‘wheres,’ which made it quite a spectacle when they went on trial for their crimes. Hope was invited to the trial, but declined.

Hope drove all the way back to her hometown in Michigan. She arrived at her childhood home in Buena Heights, got inside to greet her mom, hugged her, and cried for 3 solid hours with no intermission.

           The next day, she had quit TLC. Her show was canceled soon after. Guy’s body was shipped back to his hometown: Shermer, Illinois. There was a funeral for him a week later. Hope was too much of a wreck to attend.

Hope never quite recovered since her trip to Key West. All her father’s tall-tales of margaritas, palm trees wastin’ away

chhhhhhhh

in the wind, and cheeseburgers in paradise contrasted to the bloodshed she witnessed firsthand. Not even therapy could get the sight of Guy getting shot in the back of the head, and watching his lifeless body collapsed into the ground, with his camera falling out of his hands first; out of her mind. There was some shit seen so fucked up to fathom, it cannot be unseen. She would sometimes wake herself up in the middle of the night, screaming after the repetitive nightmare, only to see Guy with a bullet in his head, standing near her bed.

           After some time, she did get better. She took a job at WDIV channel 4 local news in Detroit. She did grunt work reporting, at first. Behind the scenes stuff. Then she got brave enough to ask if she could do some on-the-scene reporting. Her credentials were enough for the station to agree with no protest.

           Hope’s first on-camera (and on-location) reporting: a bizarre zombie incident at the Dime-a-Dozen retail store in her hometown. But that’s a bloody fun adventure for another time and place.

The Doll

The doll got out of Hope’s Vibe as soon as she arrived in Buena Heights. She never noticed a strange doll walking upright with a sailor getup down her neighborhood. Nobody, in fact, noticed the doll strolling along the street.

           The doll looked on to the many wastin’ away tales it was about to partake in. And oh yes, that doll had many fun times – with some causalities on the side (not by the doll, of course – because, well, the doll was just a doll).

           But that’s also a bloody fun adventure, for another time and place.

February 1, 2013 – June 26, 2018.