#I need my eyeballs washed for Christmas

[michael-after-hours]

First Time for Everything

Summary: Ace Merrill isn't unlike everyone else in aspects of he's always had a first time for everything in his life, even if he tries so hard to deny he ever had a first experience with anything.

His most recent and jarring experience is with Richard 'Eyeball' Chambers, his best friend and the real leader of their little gang.

Warning: mentions of past child abuse and child neglect, underage drinking and smoking(it's stand by me we should know these fellas aren't quite adults yet) homophobic language (it's like the 50s), Ace being a typical asshole, mental breakdowns. Mentions of self-harm, and mentions of losing a loved one. Child abuse, bullying, it... it's ace merrill...he can only be oh-so nice.

Notes: I just think they're kinda fruity✨

Ace Merrill always had his issues, his ups and downs, highs and lows in life. While contradictory to what he spews and boast, he's fallen on his ass screaming and crying for help more times than he has tripped and walked it off.

Ace was only five years old when he was back handed by his father for "Being too loud". He still feels the sting of it, how he fell to the ground and a ways away from his father.

He remembers his mother rushing to pick him up and scolding his father only for her to get back handed as well and take Ace with her to his bedroom. That was the first time he was ever back handed.

Ace was only eight when he was picked up by his pants and nap of his shirt, then chunked into the water by an older cousin.

He couldn't swim yet and was trying to teach himself to fish while at a lake house of a relatives for the thanksgiving holidays. Screaming and crying, wailing gasping on water.

He went under three times and only came up a fourth time after an Uncle jumped in to get him. He was eight the first time he nearly drowned, and thankfully the last time.

Ace was ten when he was left at school alone for three hours. His mother was in the hospital due to sickness, and his father off too drunk to remember to pick him up.

He told the ladies at the front office someone was coming to get him, and he didn't need to ride the bus home...only to walk the long long walk home.

It was a crisp autumn evening, the sun vanishing quickly and the walk to his house had no lights and he didn't have anything to ride home on.

Hot wet tears stained his face that day he dragged himself home, scared, alone and hungry and let himself in the house that was left abandoned for the night. He was ten the firs time that happened, but it wouldn't be the last.

Ace was thirteen when he was offered a ride home during winter.

A boy named Richard Chambers, a smile that was so warm it could've melted the snow, and a laugh so intoxicating it made Ace smile.

He rode a little bicycle, ruby red, an "Early Christmas gift" from his relatives down south who couldn't make the trip this year for him. It has room for someone to stand on the back.

"I normally take my little brother home, but he went home with some friends, and you live near me!" He happily told him.

Ace gladly accepted the offer and held on tight to Richard as they went up and down the large hills. Ace basked in how it felt like they were gliding, flying down the long stretches of hills and oh how he and Richard laughed and ran out of breath when they got to Ace's house. He was thirteen when he made his first ever friend.

Ace was fifteen when he experienced his first major loss in life. His mother passed away from her illness.

Ace didn't actually know what she passed away from, none of them really did. She would get more clumsy and forgetful, pass out more and more, nearly caught the house on fire....

The doctors said it was a stress induced illness. so ace took it upon himself to help her more. he learned to cook, clean, do laundry, wash dishes properly, how to keep the house tidy, and do his school work, and have dinner done in time for his lousy father to get home. 

The stress free environment was never stress free however, since his father loved using him and his Mother as his punching bags after a bad day, and everyday was a bad day to that man.Ace swears he put his mother in an early grave, and he was fifteen when he lost the only person to ever protect him, he was fifteen when he vowed to hurt his father for taking away his mother. It was the first time he ever lost someone he truly loved. 

Ace was fifteen when Richard joined him at the funeral. It was spring and beautiful, the perfect time for his mother to pass. "You said she always did love spring, now she'll be immortalized in it." Richard told Ace.

"What do you mean?" he croaked out, voice weak from the crying he'd been doing for the past week.

"On you know, every time you think of her, you'll think of spring, and how beautiful it is, and how nice the flowers are....That's what I do when I think of my aunt, the flowers of spring on her grave.." Richard always had a way with words, and the words made Ace cry again, and just as the fresh tears fell from his face and a sob broke out of his mouth and echoed in the still silence of the funeral, you could hear thunder and the sound of rain starting to pour down on the church while Ace wailed his heart out for his Mother. The stormy gloomy weather matching his mood. It was the first time he felt a hole in his heart and wailed until he couldn't talk. 

Ace was sixteen when he learned how to replace a razor blade on his shaving razors. Ace learned quick how sharp they are and how you have to be careful with them, or how you can easily hurt yourself by accident on them. He learned that pants covered up bruises and cuts, and during the winter months when he dawns long sleeves for warmth no one questions it.

Ace learned that the thighs were the best and easiest place to cut, and how to pinch the skin. He learned having a scolding hot shower or bath that turned him a pretty pink made him bleed more. He learned the relaxation that would come with hurting himself. He was seventeen when he hurt himself to feel a litlte something. It was the first but not the last time he hurt himself on purpose.

Ace was seventeen when he felt the world collapse beneath him. He was told to get his shit together or it was off to the military with him by his Father's wrathful hands.

He discovered the joys of drinking, and smoking not just a month earlier, along with the joy of cutting and stabbing. He was seventeen when his father broke a bottle over his head and pushed Ace out of the house.

He was seventeen when his father pushed him out of a moving car at night and made Ace limp home.

He was seventeen when Richard found him....crying by the lake, and offered him his hand and a shoulder to cry on.

Ace was seventeen when his father skipped town suddenly, leaving Ace to live home alone, and with his uncle....who ran the junkyard. He was seventeen when he stabbed someone, and did a damn good job of hiding the body.

It was the first time he killed someone, and hopefully the last.

Ace was Eighteen when life got better again. Richard had formed a gang, or as he called it "A group of the local outcast Ace" and outcast they were.

Drinking, stealing, threatening, vandalizing, raising hell and smoking a pack a day nearly. They all got names that weren't their own. Ace was no one, he was John Merrill, but now? Now he was Ace...

He was special, everyone wanted an Ace for a full deck of cards, people would love and adore Ace. He was Ace Merrill, and he kicked Richard off the pedestal of leader and appointed himself the new leader, calling Richar, "Eyeball". Why? His eyes did this adorable twitch, that made Ace chuckle every time he watched his eyes wiffle and droop, twitch and make him shake his head.

He was eighteen when the cobra gang formed. It was the first time he felt alive.

Ace was eighteen again when he got a girlfriend. She only lasted about a month? Maybe two...Ace kept her around as eye candy, she was some cheerleader chick the guys bragged about who gave good favors in return for cigarettes and booz.

She was hung up on Ace like he hung the moon itself but he couldn't stand her in his lap. Or how she giggled, he hated her, she filled him with a blind rage so much so he back handed her in front of everyone one night. Screaming at her to "SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH!!" Well she didn't like that and broke up with him, and none of the guys really agreed with it. He didn't care he brushed it off.....

Until Richard pointed it out. "Ace...hey man....your acting like my dad..." His dad, Mr Fucking Chambers....no better than Ace's now dead and gone dad. Ace thinks thats the first time he really truly felt bad for hurting someone, if only due to it concerned tone from Richard. 

Ace was on his seventh bottle of beer and nearly done with his pack of cigarettes when he realized how shaky he felt. How he couldn't breath, how the world spinning and seemed loud around him.

How his skin felt tight and how nothing felt like he was really there and living.

The cold air of autumn felt colder than before but welcoming, and he felt hot and sweaty, he fell off the porch steps he was on and stumbled around aimlessly before falling to his knees, unaware and oblivious to his surroundings. Ace could feel himself breathing heavy as his heart pounded in his ears before he felt like he was puking out sobs with how they didn't want to come out.

Gagging and choking on them before he wailed and screamed. He still doesn't know why just that he had clawed at his arms so badly they were red and a few spots bloodied. He remembers the coldness of that night and then the warmth and reassurance of being rocked and soothed. He couldn't breath until later and apologized profusely. It was his first, and not his last breakdown.

It wasn't until the cold harsh winter that would cover the ground in snow rolled around that Ace had to dial a lot of things back and realize a few things. He and the boys....

Didn't ever do anything during winter. Spring thought mid Autumn was their peak rebellion time, of being horrible. Winter? No one wanted to get to wild, they drank more and smoked more, flirted more and went out to diners and stole a bit more on occasion, but mostly it was a "Buckle down for school" time sadly.

Ace...ace wasn't doing good in school. How bad was it? .....He was getting by with the skin of his teeth levels bad. So here he was at the kitchen table, getting tutored from Richard in math and biology.

"So you have reading down, and spelling, history is perfect...Hey you should do that!" Richard was going through the study rubric of what all Ace was good with, so far he sucked ass with math and biology. "Do what?" Ace spoke dryly as he got up for a beer, popping the cap off as it fell onto the counter with a little tink sound.

"Go do something with history! You love the stuff, even when Mrs Johnson says your being a lazy screw off you pop off to her the right stuff! Stuff we never even know about!" Richard had that beautiful warm smile that got Ace to crack a small one before slumping in his chair.

It was the first time he considered life outside of Castlerock.

Winter break rolled around, and ace Somehow passed midterms of "See what you know" with flying colours except in math. His biology improved! But...math still suffered severely he didn't care much though. "So why are you so good with history and reading anyways Ace? Of all the things, i'd always expect you to be bad at those...no offence."

Richard always spoke the truth when it was just the two of them, and while they were once again at Ace's house, this time he was making homemade hot chocolate, yes homemade hot chocolate, for the two of them, it felt...odd. "Hmm? Oh uhhh...mom, she always...She always read big books to me, and would hold me as we listened to those radio dramas you know.." He vaguely explained as he stirred the pot holding the warm coco.

"You never talk about her...she was so sweet, why dont you talk about her Ace?" Richard seemed genuinely curious, and Ace couldn't fault him nor blame him for that. He didn't say anything just poured the hot coco into two mugs for them both, it wasn't until after he poured them he realized it was the quote on quote 'wedding' mugs his mom got for her and his father, back when they were happily married that is.

It was just matching mugs, Something with flowers...If you placed the mugs just so, next to each other it would make a cute heart.

"I just...She was...I just don't like living in the past." He stated. "You barely live in the now Ace...it doesn't hurt to talk about the past I mean..don't you ever wonder where your dad is?" Ace snapped, he didn't even mean to he just did. "HE'S IN THE GROUND WHERE HE BELONGS!" A loud bang on the table, shaking it as some coco swirled, then spilled over the sides, and a choked gasping cry left him as he covered his mouth shaking.

"...John....Hey...I'm sure that's true but...It's okay, he deserves it...come here." Ace wasn't budging and so Richard pulled the chair to him, the sound echoed in the house as it skid across the hardwood floors, and stopped when he was thigh to thigh with Richard. It was the first time he talked about his past, but not the last.

on one of them..his first one, the rest he neglected, or shoved off and away until they left him.

"Yeah im gonna get heeaaad~!!!" This made both of the boys burst into side holding laughter. Barely able to contain themselves from such a shit joke about getting head from some chick. "Okey, okey, really tho...like making out...you gonna kiss her?" Ace got slightly serious after their fit of laughter.

"....Ace I don't know how to kiss a girl.." This took Ace aback. He always thought Richard was more of a ladies man...least he saw him as such. He was handsome, sweet, a bit of well a dick at times but that added to his charm Ace felt. "Oh...that's okey, I haven't either." He foolishly confessed to him.

"You've had more girlfriends than me and haven't even kissed one!! HA! Fucking fairy!" Richard was laughing hysterically again as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. "Hey! Your one to talk! Least I've had some! You barely got the town whore to kiss your cheek! Fucking Jennett McNEeeeerrrr that CUNT what a biitch.." This earned Ace the pleasant sound of Richard wheezing from laughter, and Ace was going him soon after.

"FUuuck mee! Oh Ace...fuck man, uggh...okey...I have an idea though...why not practice on eachother?" Ace burst into more fits of laughter until his eyes fully fell on Richard who seemed dead serious and had that sly grin on his face.

"...Really? Thats faggy.." He stated taking another swig from his bottle. "Yeah, and? You wanna be good at kissing girls? What are you a pansy?" Without a moment's notice Ace took another swig of his drink and launched himself at Richard.

Half on him, half off, hands cupping his face as he pulled him towards him and littered sloppy breathless kisses all over his lips. Richard joined quickly as he dropped his bottle and pushed Ace on the grass cupping the blond's face as he moaned and whined into the kiss. It went on for what felt like hours but it quickly died when they pulled away for air. "You taste really good..." Richard breathed out. "Yeah you too..." Ace returned to him, panting and realizing they had a lot saliva over their lips and face. Seems they were a bit messy with this whole kissing thing.

"Wanna go again?" Richard barely had time to gather himself before Ace was back ontop him kissing him deeply and letting a few giggles escape them both as they started tussling on the grass.

It was a month til Summer, and just four days before Graduation. Ace was sitting in the Principles office, leg bouncing up and down as his right hand covered his mouth, the other held a death grip on his bag. 

Something about his grades and passing, he was terrified. He didnt want to be held back again, he dididn'tant to be alone again, he dididn'tant to deal with any of them at all. 

"Merrill John? Come here now please" Oh he felt sick, he could feel his lunch wanting to come out the way it went down. He felt sweaty yet was freezing to death, his heart was pounding, and his breaths were severely uneven.

"So John, take a seat," He fell into the chair in the small office. Looking around seeing normal things. Books, files, couple plants, small trinkets, normal office no different than the counsellors. "So You have been doing wonderful in History, as well as English which is good! Your Science/biology has greatly improved to where your passing.....now your math." Oh god.

Oh god no, not the math, it cant be that of all fucking things, MATH!? That will be his downfall he SWEARS! MATH! OF ALL THINGS!!!

"It's still quite low, but the good news is-" He didnt hear the Principle, he already dropped his bag and pulled the trashcan that was in his office to vomit into. Gagging a few time before his lunch came up. 

"Christ almighty Merrill! Now! Do you need the nurse before we continue? John! God son calm down, your not failing!! You passed math! The grading period is done! You passed!! Your extra curricular dont count towards graduating calm down!!! Go To the nurse! Take the can with you!!" Ace gave an extremely weak nod before puking again, he couldn't help it sadly. All this stress, all this anxiety and worry came out in the form of him sweating and puking, better than crying and weeping he supposed. 

He did get to lay down for a bit in the Nurse's office with an ice pack, so that was nice, and Richard took him out as congratulations for passing math finally.

"Took you til graduation but hey! You made it!!"

He did..he did make it didnt he?

Graduation went as well as anyone could have predicted. Which was shockingly well! Ace wasn't even the trouble maker there! It was some other guy named Adam....who thought it would be funny to steal a few awards and hide them, making everyone sit around for an extra hour.

Ace and Richard didnt mind, sneaking close  to eachother to talk and make fun of everyone, already reminiscing about thier prom that they barely attended, and what all they would be doing after graduating.

"thinking about getting a job out of town maybe...or in town and moving one day." Richard told him. "Yeah? sounds good...sounds good..." Ace told him. "What about you Ace?" "Hmmm? Oh uhh...I dont know...maybe work at the mechanics shop for a bit...." He wanted to go with Richard, where he went he wanted to follow, where he would go he wanted to be there with him. Where Richard went he wanted to be there home, to welcome him, or vise vera.

"Im gonna miss our study days.." Ace weakly confessed. "Dont have to! Might go to college and we can help eachother!" Collage...he forgot all about that, college...oh what would he do with College? What would he go to school for..  "Heh..yeah college..yeah...." the conversation ended quickly after as everyone was ushered into the Gymnazium where graduation was being held. 

Richard passed with a very high score, all things considered, and Ace passed with an Honors in history and english...

He passed with honours in two of his classes...

The summer was hot as always, even when it was heading back into fall, but while speeding down a strip of the well known and worn path of Castlerock, hte Cobra gang was once again rasing hell for one last time, yelling, screaming, causing hell for one last time. 

Why the last time? Well Ace was starting work soon, as was Richard, and they found a college the next town over, offered dormitories, and thier work would be in that town. So this was the last time to raise hell before making the long drives to work and start college. 

The summer was full of swimming, fun, fights, more theft, and of course, Richard and Ace being together constantly. That brat of Richard's brother even joined them a few times.

As the day was winding down to a final end, and everyone was dropped off, Richard stuck with Ace walking with him to his house. "So...You wanna admit it?" He asked out of the blue. "Admit what?" Ace sounded confused as he said this. "Admit that your a homo, a fairy like my brother teased you about~" Ace could deal with meny meny things, but Richard getting that chim in his voice? He couldn't ever deal with it. "NO! Im not!! Fucking door won't open!" Ace always fumbled whenever Richard made him flustered, he couldn't help it the guy had him wrapped around him like string. 

"Come onnn~ Admit it Acey!" He leaned against the door nearly pinning Ace against the door as he gave him a quick little kiss. 

"Im not!!" Ace finally got the door open and rushed inside with Richard following closely behind. "I think you are! We always make out! Kiss! I know you've gotten off to me and well come on what guys moan each others names and give each other hand jobs Ace!?!" Richard had a very valid point to all that..

"Its not! Its! Its not! Not!!! Its only faggy if you fuck another guy!!" Ace was red now. "Oh so you giving me head in the car at lovers peak doesn't mean anything~" Oh he had a point.. "NO! IT! No it doesn't!! You have to...to penetrate them...you know...like with girls.." Ace told him.

"Well i mean...we got time, got all night, next week we start getting ready for collage~ dont see why not...Come onnn John!!" Ace didnt sya anything he just stared at a spot on the floor while leaning up against the wall. He wasn't expecting this tonight.

"I dont know..." He softly spoke out. "I'll be gentle! i wont hurt you!" "Yeah but we dont even know how to do that! Why do you think we've stuck with hand jobs! And Whos gonna penetrate who Dick!" Ace was yelling and more scared and anxious than anything, "How about I take care of you on the bed doll~" "NO! Not tonight no!! fucking goddamn whisky always makes you a horndog!" It didnt take Ace long to march upstairs to his room.

"There's a first for eveything you know Richard..." Ace sighed out and laid by Richard. Both glowing in the aftermath of thier orgasms, thier first, penetrate orgasm at that. "Yeah...yeah there is....fuck..." Ace recovered fairly fast from his orgasm, and was smoking, while Richard laid our catching his breath. "What do you mena theres a first for eveything?" Richard asked him. "Oh you know....first time to fall, first time to hurt yourself, first time to....lose someone..first time to...smoke, to drink, to nearly drown, to kill, to...to everything." He had a sour taste in his mouth suddenly. "First time to love~ First time to fall in love and last time, first time to kiss the most handsome guy in all of Castlerock, first time to moan your name and you mine, first time to go on a date, first time to cuddle~" Richard was curling up on Ace dragging him down to get him to go to bed with him and put his cigarette out.

Ace gave in and put it out before cosying up against Richard in the bed.

There really was a first for everything wasn't there?

[lesbians4scully]

warning bc this is Gross. Eyeball horror. gore is described. its fucked.

oh, ur haunted by the horrors ?? ur seeing the horrors at work. Well. Picture this scene for me. i am at my day job. i am like, washing up or something. there’s some other ppl in the corner of the room on their lunch break. there comes a rapping. Rapping on my door !! i am like "fuck. what do they need from me Now". i Answer the door. To My Delight, it is the lady who Procures Items from the Internet for us. I go "ah! what goodies have i ordered this time?". my joy is palpable. every time i get a package it is like christmas. To Me. i notice she is holding the package at arms length. This Is Peculiar. What did i order.

she politely informs me that it is the package of twenty-five Frozen Sheep Eyeballs that i ordered the previous week. this is Fine. admittedly, i have not prepared myself to deal with this, but no matter. the company bags them up in little manageable packages of Five Eyeballs, so i must simply empty them into the freezer for future use. Fantastic. our freezer shall be stocked. the biology students shall Rejoice. Or Not. Likely Not. Oh well.

i thank the order lady and take my Items to the sink, retrieving the relevant documentation from the package for my Files. i reach into the bag. my heart drops.

now, dear reader; i am not a particularly squeamish individual. i had spent a morning the previous week, up to my elbows in Unspeakable Things, de-tangling eight sets of lungs, complete with tracheas, and thought nothing more on the matter. but Eyeballs- they unsettle me. the clouded lenses, the fat-sheathed remains of the optic nerve. i deal with it, for it is my duty, but no more than necessary.

so imagine my abject horror when, out of the package, i pull a single, vacuum-packed bag, containing all twenty-five eyeballs: half-frozen, packed together in some kind of squishy, fleshy Cuboid, the likes of which i have seen in no horror film or shock video.

i cut the plastic and empty the bag into the sink. the eyes remain packed together, like a fucked-up box of mincemeat; only this is not mincemeat, it is twenty-fucking-five sheep eyeballs. all looking at me. and now i must spend my afternoon, which i had planned to spend Dicking About With Chemicals, painstakingly peeling apart each eyeball from the Cube, being exceptionally gentle as to not pop them and release Humour everywhere, and individually bagging them and relinquishing them into the Gross Freezer.

im irreversibly altered as a human. i cant unsee the Eyeball Cube. ive seen more horros than ur favourite Blorbo. ive suffered more than jesus i think

[tittadetroit]

The gunk scannable objects

The extra stuff you scan, the extra upgrades you finally unlock. At first, the sport virtually appears to be following the identical house tracks left by video games like No Man’s Sky, tasking you with scanning the native crops for information and scavenging for sources to be able to improve your energy glove. You play as Rani, who ventures out to wash up the titular gunk and examine that unusual power sign whereas Becks retains watch again at base. The Gunk is a visible feast from begin to end, even when the panorama is being eaten alive by its grasping goop. There is a witty playfulness to their dialogue that makes them a enjoyable pair to hang around with over the course of this five-hour planet hop, and I hope we get to see them and their barely borked yellow supply bot Curt (whose solely line is an more and more mangled however endearing take of “You’ve got bought served!”) get one other outing within the years to come back. Language apart, Rani and Becks make for an affable duo, and their snappy and rambunctious radio chatter jogged my memory loads of Aliya and Six from Inkle’s Heaven’s Vault. Other than just a few cheeky Easter egg nods in Rani and Becks’ ship, this can be a standalone journey that will be nice to play with the children over Christmas if it weren’t for the occasional swears. The Gunk is not associated to the SteamWorld universe. There’s quite a bit to love about this 3D motion platformer, however it’s lacking that spark to actually make it sing. That mentioned, whereas Picture & Type have clearly navigated their 2D to 3D transition from an artwork perspective, their typical aptitude for including their very own spin to totally different genres has been much less profitable. If that is what they have been holding again on all these years, then their upcoming motion journey SteamWorld Headhunter must be an actual deal with for the outdated eyeballs. Regardless of its gloopy namesake, The Gunk is regularly beautiful, its gentle pastels and coral-esque flora exhibiting such an eye fixed for jaw-dropping visuals that it is arduous to imagine that is SteamWorld developer Picture & Type’s first ever 3D online game. A burst of sunshine, a shruum of sound, and the world is immediately remodeled again to its former glory. Your reward for scooping up all of the gunk in any given space is the form of graphical wizardry video video games do greatest. In spite of everything, when it turns the bottom black and saps the world of all its color, that is one case of Extraordinarily Unhealthy Vibes you will need to treatment as quickly as potential. It oozes and throbs within the caves, plains and rivers of this as soon as vibrant panorama, and the urge to suck all of it up into Rani’s chunky energy glove (a literal hand vac on this case) is overwhelmingly robust. As house haulers Rani and Becks contact down on a forgotten planet in the hunt for a wierd power sign, the place is completely gummed up with the stuff. The Gunk may not be probably the most subtle title within the universe for a gooey black jelly that pulses with an ominous purple mild, however goodness it positive is acceptable. To scan an item, approach the object then hold down RB until the scan has completed! To earn the Space Archeologists achievement, you’ll need to scan every item in The Gunk.A placing and assured 3D platformer that is an actual feast for the senses, however one which performs it very protected in comparison with Picture & Type’s extra ingenious SteamWorld video games. Below are all the scannable objects found in The Gunk.

[nehswritesstuffs]

Slight NSFW Whouffaldi story where after a stressful day of battling alien invaders taking over the Earth, 12 and Clara share a bubble bath together and sip champagne and have a fancy dinner while they bathe . Also it’s the first time they have seen each other naked which makes things a bit awkward at first. To top it all off Clara is surprised by 12’s collection of rubber ducks (which 12 tries to hide but Clara thinks are adorable).

Oh, wow, I had to go back several pages in my inbox to find this, ha! That's a lot of messages, Greyscale!

1495 words; turned into something that I think I’ll date as being from between the end of Last Christmas and the start of s9, with references to unseen adventures in s7b; I kept on trying to make these two bang but alas they didn’t want to get there before the story ended

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Explosions followed the two time-and-space travelers as they ran headlong into the TARDIS and the doors slammed behind them. The console room rocked as the ship it was docked on was hit by even more explosions, throwing the Doctor into the console unit and Clara nearly pitched over the side of the rail. It took some maneuvering, but the Doctor was able to fling them back into the vortex. The ship eventually stabilized, easing into a calm, steady drift.

“Invasion averted,” Clara declared, a hint of pride in her voice. She glanced at the Doctor, a grin spreading across her lips to match the goofy one on his. “Looks like we won’t be colonized by giant space-ants after all.”

“No space-uncles either.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They both sank to the floor and sat next to one another, taking solace in the other’s company. Whole moments passed, only ruined by an odor reaching Clara’s nose. She sniffed, then cringed, a shiver going through her body.

“Jesus, Doctor, you need to bathe,” she teased.

“Can say the same for you,” he replied dully. she glanced at him and saw that he was rather stoic. “You and I were doing the same things, after all.”

“Ugh, that is true…” she admitted. Clara struggled to stand, then helped the Doctor up, and exhaled heavily. “I guess it’s time for a wash.”

“I’ll take you home…”

“Oh no… not so fast.” She placed her hand on his before it had time to pull down the lever. “You promised last time we were in such a situation that we could use the TARDIS’s baths.”

“I did…?”

“You did.” She turned towards the ceiling and raised an eyebrow, at which the ship hummed in reply. He did. “Now lead the way.”

The Doctor looked at Clara’s outstretched hand and took it, gently pulling her along as he went into the corridor. He led her through to a door that opened up to a tiled, candle-lit room, where there was bubbles in the bathwater and a board laid out with fancy finger foods.

“I didn’t need the help,” the Doctor grumbled.

“What was that…?”

“Nothing.” He glared at the wall, hoping that the ship got his message. “I’ll let you go fir—”

“There’s two glasses, so we’re both going in,” she insisted. He looked at the board and saw that there was two flutes of… something sitting nearby. Champagne? Something else? There was really only one way to find out… though he got distracted by movement at his elbow. He looked and saw that it was Clara peeling off her medium-crispy jumper.

“You… erm… sure…?”

“Of course, you daft old man,” she snickered. “Now let’s jump in before the suds all go to waste, the food turns, and the drinks get flat.”

Reluctantly, the Doctor began to shed his layers as well, both stripping down to their nothings. Although he tried very hard to not watch Clara as she undressed, he couldn’t help but think she might have been purposefully attempting to catch his attention. The outline of her silhouette, the sweat on her skin reflecting the candlelight, the way her mouth twitched upwards in a smirk as she glanced towards him… he looked away quickly, his face flushing red. He was caught.

“Glad to see you still have working eyeballs,” Clara chuckled. She moved slowly as she walked over to the tub and stepped into the bath, allowing the water and suds to envelop her. A delighted moan escaped between her lips and the Doctor swallowed hard—it was a sound he would have liked to hear in a different context, that was for certain. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, making him instantly feel completely exposed despite the fact he still had a t-shirt and trousers on. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Uhh… yes, ma’am…” He finished undressing under Clara’s watchful eye, wanting to shrink back into nothingness. This regeneration was… sparse, in his mind. There was little to it, which he imagined was part of what had concerned her at first when they landed in Victorian England at the feet of the Paternosters. He was not muscular, nor toned, and was somehow ganglier than he’d been before. His skin now more porcelain, his gait awkward, his eyebrows and hands too big to not be expressive as hell… it was a bloody nightmare. He padded over to the tub and joined Clara, glad that the bubbles were covering up much of them both.

“Glad to see that you’ve not lost one thing in the regeneration,” she quipped as he reached for a glass. He tried to hide his embarrassment behind the champagne—oh, yeah, that was right… memories of them both being enthusiastically high off a multi-species aphrodisiac during his prior face came to mind. The way she was stroking the head of a rubber duck was—although dissimilar in motion—reminded him of other things that she had stroked… including what she was mentioning.

“That changed as well,” he muttered. He attempted to stuff one of the snacks in his mouth to stave off more questions but ended up spitting it out directly back onto the board; wasn’t aware he no longer cared for capers.

“Still discovering things, I see?” she teased. Clara put down her glass and both her hands vanished underneath the bubbles, only for the Doctor to feel them brush against his knees and onto his lower thighs. “Not here, not now, because we’re already gross and we shouldn’t have to shower after a bath, but can I feel for myself?”

A million things had to cross the Time Lord’s mind before he weakly nodded. She moved forward slightly and felt along the outside of his thighs, up his hips, and kept going to his chest. Her fingers moved along his shoulders and arms until she got to his hands, which she moved to rest on her own hips. Now sitting astride his lap, she kept her eyes locked with his as she felt right above his hearts, almost laughing when she felt how easily she could monitor their frantic beating.

“I didn’t think I was that scary,” she said gently. He shook his head, though just barely.

“You aren’t,” he admitted, “but what you might find is.”

“Nonsense,” she tutted. While bringing one hand to his face to cup his cheek and jaw, she allowed her other hand to slide back down his body to between his legs, taking survey of what she found. He whimpered and wriggled at her touch, wrenching his eyes shut and biting his lower lip so as to not shout.

Clara stopped, allowing the moment time to breathe, only continuing when he turned his face towards her hand and kissed her palm. Using the hand already there, she deftly felt what he had to offer in his already disturbingly human-like genitalia. His cock was already beginning to enlarge and harden in arousal and his balls had started to vibrate in anticipation (it felt almost mechanical in motion, which was admittedly a little weird the first (and only) time they’d knocked boots before, but she wasn’t complaining all things considered). She smiled, satisfied.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” she stated. His eyes snapped open.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is: this body’s first time is going to feel amazing.” She let go of his lower bits and used both hands to hold his face as she kissed him, tongue darting between his lips as they worked slowly, languidly. One of his hands dipped lower and it was her turn to gasp as he unexpectedly touched her clit, slowly working towards her vagina that felt soft and hot as he teased it. His other hand held her back as it arched, their kiss breaking as he moved to her neck and jaw while their chests pressed together.

It was electrifying, and yet…

“Fuck, Doctor, not here,” Clara breathed. She took his hand away from her and brought the fingers that had just been inside her to her lips. “Washing up now, fondling and experimenting with that massive alien cock of yours later.”

He blinked at that. “‘Massive’…?”

“Bigger than your last face,” she admitted, removing herself from his lap. His eyebrows arched approvingly—he took it in stride, at least. “Good to know everything matured since last time.”

“Everything except you,” he teased, at which she gasped in mock insult. “I know what you’re getting at, stopping my hands while yours are allowed to wander, unabated? Pervert.”

“You don’t know the meaning of the word,” she claimed with a laugh, throwing the nearby rubbed duck at his head. He dodged and it squeaked as it hit the tile nearby. “I think you need a vocab lesson after we’ve finished with our wash. What do you say?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then again, he didn’t have to say anything; the glint of his grin in the candlelight was all she needed.

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[mellow-elbow]

Waitwaitwsitqsit wait WAIT. Hold up. YOU DRANK. GAS???? Like GASOLINE ??? W H Y?!?! What’s the story?!?!?

Picture it. Sicily, 1912. Indiana, 2018.

I'm 18 and leaving my mom's house to travel 1.5 hours to Kentucky to my dad's house for family photos. I don't remember why I was still in Indiana when everyone was already in KY, but whatever. I think I had work or something. Anyway.

I drive a gas guzzler and needed to fill up so, wearing my nice outfit that I'm supposed to wear for these fucking photos that will be for Christmas cards, I stop at the local gas station to grab a beverage, a snack, and to fill up my tank.

I set my fountain soda on the back end of my car to pull the nozzle out, only for the trigger to get stuck and spray gas all over my car, my nice clothes, my face- I'm talking everywhere. Since I had just gotten doused with gasoline, I wasn't thinking about technicalities about where all the gas went. My mom doesn't have a working washer/dryer at this point and I don't have time to get undressed, shower, take my clothes to the nearby laundromat to wash and dry, and THEN travel the 1.5 hours, so I say fuck it and make the trip soaked in gasoline.

So, pissed, I start sipping on my drink and I notice it tastes a little weird. I figure it's probably because I don't drink pepsi very often, it just sounded good in the moment. I keep truckin' along and keep sipping until it finally hits me that the gas literally sprayed everywhere... including probably all over my drink.

So I call my dad who insists he doesn't have time for this. His adult child who has just ingested an unknown amount of gasoline. Thanks dad. Next up I call my older sister who tells me I should probably go to a hospital. I don't have time for that, I'm already running late for photos. She assures me that our stepmom would understand, but this is the same woman who got mad that she had to cancel my birthday dinner because I had a seizure the day of and spent that evening in the hospital. Thanks stepmom.

Next up I call mom. Turns out if you ever drink gasoline you should drink milk to coat your stomach so it can't tear up the lining or whatever. So I got a milk and a gasoline-free sprite at the next gas station. I got a lot of weird looks because I was, y'know, still soaked in gasoline.

Anyways, that's the story of how I drank gasoline as an adult. There's also the time I accidentally sprayed kerosene directly into my eyeballs at the tender age of two but that's a different story for another time.

[rvspberry]

Cat boy Steve trying to cook/ BAKE??? something as a Christmas surprise???

(THIS WAS AN AMAZING ASK!!! And it ended up becoming a modern Catboy AU. And ended up longer than I expected. Anon, I hope you enjoy.)

Steve’s never baked cookies before. He’s never baked *anything* before, to be honest, and he’s never really thought about trying his hand at doing things in the kitchen until now. Billy cooks for them, mostly because Steve can burn water because he gets so easily distracted, ears twitching at every little noise and tail flicking with each new interest that catches his attention.

But the thing is… the thing is, Steve turns on the Hallmark channel the second week of December and watches romcom after romcom with people baking cakes and pies and whole Christmas dinners to show their love. Steve could maybe try cookies. They seem easy enough.

And, like, it sounds cool. Making cookies for Billy. Showing his love through something homemade. Like, he works part-time at Family Video, and he already bought Billy something small, something he could afford. But giving Billy something he put his heart into? Something made with love and care? Something he made with his own two hands?

The way the movies make it out, that’s the best thing he could ever offer to Billy, cookies worth their weight in gold.

It can’t be that hard, right?

So Steve turns to his first source of knowledge anytime he needs to find out how to do something new.

YouTube.

He’s a visual learner, okay? He likes being able to see the steps laid out in real time.

His attention span shoots for the sixty-second video where they do a run-through of the steps to making the perfect chocolate chip cookies. It’s long enough to hold his attention, short enough to keep him focused, and he feels so confident watching it that he goes out and buys all the ingredients he needs. He’s whistling to himself through the grocery store, smiles at the cashier, and when he gets home, he still feels utterly confident.

Until the batter comes out a lot more liquid than solid. The chocolate chips fall off the spoon before he can even scoop them up. Steve winces, but he followed the directions. Even if the directions didn’t have anything like measurements. He kind of eyeballs each ingredient. Two sticks of butter, two eggs, a cup each of flour and sugar, a hefty scoop of baking powder - and then the chocolate chips. But…

It looks weird.

It’s not right.

Steve dips his pinky into the batter and tastes it. It’s bitter, and not sweet enough. He still goes through with it, spooning the liquidy mixture onto the cookie sheet and popping it into the oven.

The oven is a whole other experience entirely, because Steve doesn’t know what the numbers really mean. He pushes a few until the numbers read 2-0-0. That seems like a long time, right? Or is it temperature? Whatever. It works.

...Except the video says to leave the cookies in the oven for 10-15 minutes, and when he pulls them out, they’re still raw. So he pops them back in for 20 minutes. 30 minutes. An hour passes, and they seem to grow more disgusting with every minute that passes.

When he finally pulls them out, somehow raw on top and burnt on the bottom and sides, Steve tosses the whole thing - cookies, tray, and all.

Billy comes home later and crinkles his nose. “Did you burn something, babe?”

“No!” Steve is quick to reply, eyes wide when he looks up at Billy from his spot on the couch where he’d been laying in the sun earlier. “Nope. Not at all.”

“Okay…” Billy drawls, his eyes gazing over at Steve with confusion until he spots something and smiles. Strutting over to Steve, Billy reaches out and rubs his thumb over Steve’s cheek. “You got some flour on you.”

Steve lets out a yelp and flies to the bathroom to wash up properly, Billy snickering behind him.

~

Steve tries again the next week, the week before Christmas. Surely he can master it if he tries to follow a longer video, right? Something with measurements. Something that’s foolproof. And when the batter is finished, with Steve’s focus narrowing enough for him to measure every little ingredient out, it looks just like the video. He pulls it up on his phone, ears twitching as he listens intently.

He follows every step to the T, to the dotted ‘i.’ The sets the “bake” thing to 3-7-5 and puts the sheet inside to begin with. Even waits as the numbers turn from 1-0-0 to 1-2-0, thinking that he must wait 120 minutes for the oven to hear up. He groans when the 1-0-0 turns to 1-2-0… Really? That long? That’s how long it takes to heat the oven?

By the time the oven beeps and the numbers read ‘3-7-5,’ Steve has gotten distracted licking his paws and visibly startles into action.

He places the tray into the oven and even turns on the timer somehow for ten minutes.

But then Steve goes to the living room and lays down on the couch in the sun and starts cleaning his tail, licking the backs of his hands to clean his ears. He doesn’t want Billy to know he’s made cookies until he steps into the kitchen and sees the beautiful pile of them on a plate on the counter. Wouldn’t that be something?

So, ten minutes turn into twenty, and the smell of smoke tinges the air.

Steve crinkles his nose at the scent, his senses more sensitive than a human’s, and then his eyes widen comically in fear.

“No, no, no! Not my cookies!!”

Steve rushes to the kitchen to drag the cookies out of the oven with a mitted-hand and lays them on the stove. Confusion tinges his expression - it curls at the edges of his mouth, curls his eyebrows up, makes him completely disinterested and distrustful of the process. These were going to be fool-proof. Steve-proof.

And he messed it up again.

He scrapes the burnt cookies off the tray into the trash can and soaks the tray in the sink as best as he can, given how tiny it is.

Steve’s tail twitches. How did he screw this batch so badly? How did he not hear the timer?

He realizes that only one person can really help him right now, and resolves to call Joyce Byers.

~

Steve is still smarting from his last attempt, so it takes him another few days to get around to calling her. By the time he does, it’s Christmas Eve.

But Joyce seems happy to help, one catperson to another, and offers up the recipe for her homemade snickerdoodles.

“Could you- could you tell me how to make them? All the ones I’ve tried end up terrible,” he says, wincing at the admission.

“Of course, Steve. Just stay on the phone with me. Put me on speaker so you can use both of your hands. And don’t hesitate to ask me any questions, okay?”

“Okay…”

So, Joyce talks him through properly measuring the ingredients, leveling them off with a knife.

She describes adding the sugar and butter together and calls it “creaming” which makes him fight back a snicker.

He adds the eggs carefully, once at a time, fishing out tiny pieces of eggshell to make sure no one gets that unpleasant surprise. He adds the vanilla, the dry ingredients, rolls them into little balls in a mix of cinnamon sugar, and places them carefully on a baking sheet.

Steve thinks to ask her about the oven numbers and feels like an idiot when she tells him it’s not the time left for preheating but the temperature climbing up to 350’.

Joyce even keeps him on the phone while the cookies bake, both of them sharing information about the latest campaigns of the party. Steve doesn’t have the attention to stay interested in a campaign for as long as they take to trudge through, everyone rolling, everyone making a decision, the boys fighting about what is and isn’t allowed… It’s a lot, and he feels a little better when Joyce agrees with him, both of them dissolving into laughter.

His tail flicks back and forth, casual and easy and contented, and when the timer goes off in the background, Steve actually hears it and Joyce reminds him to take the cookies out to let them cool.

When Billy gets home that night, Steve can’t help the smug smile on his face.

“Damn, I think the neighbor was baking cookies or something, it smells so good in the hallway!” Billy says, toeing off his boots. He stops in the doorway and sniffs the air curiously. His blue eyes turn on Steve, who can’t even pretend to be innocent as his ears are flicked ahead, alert, and his tail whips back and forth with anticipation. “Baby… did *you* bake cookies today?”

The slow smile that steals across Steve’s lips is no less smug, and his tail flicks excitedly. He perks up, licking his lips.

“Do you want to try one?” Steve asks, affecting a shy look right up until Billy nods. Then, Steve stands quickly, shoots his hand out to curl around Billy’s wrist and drags him into the kitchen.

There, on a simple paper plate, are the snickerdoodles Joyce helped him make. Completely harmless, and yet they hold a weight to them that Steve cannot describe.

Steve’s eyes are wide as he watches Billy pick one up, can practically feed his pupils dilating as Billy raises the cookie to his mouth and he takes a bite.

Billy tuns to face him suddenly and Steve’s ears flatten in preparation to be told that they’re terrible. For Billy to spit them out, or- or whatever. To do something that shows that Steve’s efforts were all for naught.

“Steve, these are *delicious*!” Billy exclaims, then shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

“Really?” Steve asks. He looks at Billy through his lashes with his biggest, roundest eyes, a little pout on his lips.

“Baby, yes. Yes, they’re so fucking good,” Billy mumbles through a mouthful of cookie, chewing and swallowing what he had in his mouth. He pulls Steve into his arms and gives him a sweet kiss, the buttery-sugar-and-cinnamon flavor clinging to Billy’s lips. “Did you make these for me…?”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes out, the weight on his shoulders lifting immediately. He ducks his head, trying to hide his grin.

Billy crowds him back against the counter, a hand on either side of Steve caging him in. Steve picks his chin up to lock eyes with Billy, who smiles warmly at him.

“Thank you,” Billy murmurs and turns his head to lean in and press their lips together. “They’re amazing. *You’re* amazing.”

Steve laughs softly and kisses Billy back, his hands moving up to slide into Billy’s hair. “You’re amazing, too. That’s why I made them for you. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Billy whispers, and kisses Steve again.

[aquaticalay]

F.R.I.D.A.Y. I'm in Love (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: While singing 'Friday, I'm in love' by The Cure in the kitchen to yourself, a certain AI thinks you're talking to her. She tells you something you didn't know, and decides to play matchmaker on Christmas morning, because why not?

Genre: christmas fluff :)

Word count: 2.5k

Song: Friday, I'm in Love by The Cure

Note: Merry Xmas! This is my last fic before vacation! This is also my first one shot in a while. Hope you like it!!

You were the first one awake at the compound, but that wasn't anything out of the usual. You always wake up at least half an hour earlier than anybody else in the compound without fail, every single day. It was simply an old habit you can't seem to get rid of, no matter how tired you were or how late you slept the night before.

The only thing that made a difference was that it's the day before christmas. Since you and Bucky were the only people with no family to celebrate it with, the two of you stayed behind to keep an eye on the compound. You had somehow convinced Bucky to agree on helping you set up decorations today. Besides, you also need help setting up the realistic-looking artificial pine tree at the corner of the common room. You already had a vision: green, white, and red ribbons filling up the ceiling and fairy lights as far as the eye can see. 

But that was your plan for later in the afternoon. Right now, the sun had just barely began to rise.

You made your way to the kitchen, thinking of making pancakes for breakfast. You hummed a tune as you opened the cupboards for a pan and ingredients. You eyeballed the flour and sugar, sifted them in a bowl and went to the fridge to get the rest of the contents needed.

Lost in your own world, the tunes you hummed turned into cohesive words, an actual song that you had been listening to lately and can't seem to get out of your head.

"I don't care if Monday's blue," you sang, cracking the eggs, making sure the shell stayed out of the batter, "Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too."

You poured the milk and butter, "Thursday, I don't care about you," you grabbed a whisk and pretended it was a microphone, "It's Friday, I'm in love."

"May I guess with who?" FRIDAY quipped suddenly.

You yelped in shock and dropped the whisk into the batter, some of it splattering to your shirt and face. Just a little, but enough to piss you off.

"What?" You asked, slightly annoyed.

"You told me you were in love," you heard the AI say through the built in speakers of the room, "may I guess with who?".

You let out a lighthearted laugh, "First of all, it's just a song," you rolled your eyes with a smile, amused by the misunderstanding of the supposedly smart AI. "Secondly," you continued, "I am not in love with anybody at the moment."

FRIDAY then said, in a matter-of-factly manner, "But you are."

Furrowing your eyebrows, annoyed, you stubbornly told her, "No, I'm not."

"You are," the AI insisted, and before you can deny it once again, she told you, "You show all physical and hormonal signs of being in love— increased levels of dopamine, adrenaline, and norepinephrine, increased heart rate, and dilated pupils— in the presence of Sergeant James Barnes."

Your mind stopped just enough to catch up with what FRIDAY. was telling you. 

"What?" You asked, flustered, as blood rushed to your cheeks, "No!"

"It's true," said the AI calmly, then displayed a panel of hologram on the island kitchen, usually used for mission briefings— your vitals, including your hormone levels. "These are your average body scans whenever you are in the same room as Sergeant Barnes," she said.

"That's enough, Friday!" you exclaimed, almost squeaking, embarrassed. She then took down the hologram, to your relief.

You admit, you have always been fond of Bucky, and dare you say, quite attached to him, but it never occurred to you that you loved him, mostly because everytime you even thought of the four-letter terrifying word, you pushed it to the deepest, darkest corner of your mind, lock it in a glass box and throw away the key, never to be seen again. The subject of love terrifies you, though the thought of being romantically involved with Bucky did give you a certain feeling of satisfaction and comfort, and maybe, just maybe, hope of it being able to work out.

Oops, there's the thought again.

Time to bury it six feet underground.

"In case you're curious, Sergeant Barnes also—" the AI started, but you shushed her furiously, "Fri, I don't want to hear it."

"But—" she began, but you cut her off again, "Please don't."

Sensing your discomfort, she stopped saying whatever she was about to say.

You continued to make your pancakes in peace, if there was ever any. 

You hummed the tune of the same song, careful not to say the actual words to it. You turned on the stove an put a frying pan on it measuring your batter out for an even and fluffy pancake. 

The automatic door opened, and Bucky entered the room, yawning. He was wearing a grey shirt and shorts. As he smelled the sweet aroma of the batter cooking, his gaze turned to you. 

"Mornin' doll," he smiled lazily, greeting you. He seemed to be in an especially good mood today. Ever since you joined almost a year ago, he had given you the nickname, and you adapted to it quickly. 

"Morning, Buck," you hummed, flipping the pancakes. Bucky walked towards you and took in the smell exaggeratingly. "Hope you made some for me."

You chuckled, "Of course." 

You stacked the first three pancakes on an empty plate and handed it to Bucky, who gave you a chaste kiss on the side of your head.

This type of casual affection has been going on for a while now, a little over five months. He'd kiss you on the cheeks or forehead whenever he said thank you, hello, or goodbye. You'd also cuddle against him on movie nights and lean on his shoulder while sitting on the dinner table, but neither of you ever spoke about it. You never wanted to think much about these flirtatious exchanges. You assumed this was just who he was, and you were just playing his game. He was a ladies' man in the 40s, after all, and you were just all-all round playful person.

You stacked your own pancakes and turned off the stove. 

You sat next to Bucky on the couch, who was currently pouring a shit ton of maple syrup on his pancakes, squeezing the bottle with his metal arm.

You chuckled at his behaviour, and he raised his eyebrows at you.

"What are you laughing at?" He tried to pretend to be serious, but he can't help but show a hint of a grin on his adorable face.

"Nothing," you shook your head playfully and started eating the sugar-filled breakfast.

Deciding it was too quiet, Bucky decided to ask FRIDAY a favor. "Friday," Bucky called, "play some music, please."

FRIDAY complied almost immediately, and the tune of the song she played was too familiar.

Your cheeks turned bright red in a matter of seconds. Why would she play that?

"I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's grey and Wednesday, too

Thursday I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love"

Bucky stuffed pancakes in his mouth as he listened to the song, "I've never heard this song before," he mentioned, his head moving subtly to the tempo of the song, "It's nice."

"Uh, yeah," you managed to nervously blurt out.

Bucky turned his head to you, "You cold, doll?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"No, why?" 

"You're red," he pointed out worriedly, "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"No, I'm just—" you started, trying to find an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. You couldn't tell him you're embarrassed, and you already told him you weren't cold, "—I don't know."

As the song continued playing, Bucky placed the back of his hand on your forehead to check for a fever, but he was met with a normal, cool skin. He tried not to think too much about it. He shrugged and told you, "Just let me know if you feel unwell, okay? I know where Scott keeps his emergency cold medicine."

You managed a nod, and tried to distract yourself by eating your pancakes.

You started to feel relief wash over you as the song came to an end, but when it did end, it started to play again, as if FRIDAY had it on loop.

"Weird," Bucky quipped.

"Yeah, weird," you said, a little quieter than usual, "Friday, please play another song," you said, but Bucky cut you off, "No, I want to listen to it again," he said, "One more time? I really like it."

You sunk into your seat, having forced to suffer through this song again.

-

That afternoon, Bucky helped you set up the ribbons and lights, and now he was helping you with the tree ornaments.

The time you spent together were spent in laughter and joy, playfully teasing each other. He told you a lot about his old family traditions, how his little sister Rebecca and him would use their spare money to get their mother a gift every year. In return, you made him hot chocolate, made from your grandma's special recipe.

"Bucky," you called, "give me a boost so I can get the star on top of the tree." 

You showed him the star. It was brilliant red. He chuckled to himself, wondering if you intentionally got it to match his old logo.

Without warning, he grabbed your waist, and spun you around playfully. You yelped in shock, steadying yourself by putting a hand on his shoulder. You laughed a little, "The tree, Buck," you reminded him, and he chuckled, rolling his eyes. "okay, okay."

You placed the star on top, and he set you down gently. You were facing him, and for a split second, you nose touched his and you were looking straight into his icy orbs. 

You looked away, pretending it didn't happen. 

"Help me with the ribbons," you quipped. Bucky grabbed the box full of colorful decorations. "Okay," he replied. You weren't sure, but you could've sworn he sounded a little bit disappointed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent decorating the tree, and it was all fun and games until Bucky started humming 'Friday, I'm in love,' under his breath, a song that seems to be stuck in his head.

-

You and Bucky fell asleep on the couch after a Christmas movie marathon. You woke up in the same position you fell asleep: cuddled up against Bucky, you head on his shoulder and his human arm wrapped contently around your waist. You adjusted your eyes to the light coming in from the big glass windows, and tugged on Bucky's side, "wake up."

He groaned a little, his eyes blinking to life. 

"Merry Christmas," you smiled, still leaning your head on his shoulder, too lazy to get up.

"Merry Christmas, doll," he replied, a sleepy but sincere smile on his face.

You mustered enough energy to look at the Christmas tree, and was shocked to see one small red box under the tree, decorated with a fittingly small green bow. It was empty the last time you saw it.

"Did you–" you turned to Bucky, who nodded right away, "How?" You asked curiously.

"I slipped it there before we started the movie," he admitted, a slightly rosy color on his cheeks.

"Is that for me?" You asked, and he nodded.

"I- I've got a present for you in my room," you told him, half-way panicked that you've forgotten his present in your quarters.

Rushing out of the common room, Bucky watched you as a sigh left his lips. 

He found himself humming the song he heard yesterday again. He took the present from under the tree to give it to you first hand, then walked to the island kitchen to get some water. He doesn't remember all the words, except the ones at the very end of the chorus.

He mumbled a string of noises, but lightly sang the last part in his best singing voice, "Friday, I'm in love."

"I know," Friday said through the speakers. It surprised Bucky, but he didn't show it. Sitting down on the bar stool of the island, Bucky asked, "What?"

"I know you're in love, Sergeant Barnes," the AI said.

Bucky let a heavy breath out. Friday was right. He was in love. With you. "How did you know?"

"Your physical and hormonal body scans when you're around Miss (Y/n)."

Bucky only chuckled dryly. It was nothing he didn't already know, "Too bad she doesn't feel the same, huh?" 

"Actually—" the AI started, but suddenly stopped when you rushed back in the room, a heavy box decorated with a patterned white wrapper in your arms. It was huge compared to the gift he got you. You put on the marble countertop and climbed on the stool next to his.

"Here," you said excitedly, "open it!"

Your excitement was contagious. He gave you a hearty laugh and ripped the wrapping paper. When he was finished, he realized what it was. A record player.

"Wow, (Y/n)," he said, twinkle in his eyes. He raised it so he could see it better, "I- thank you."

"You've been telling me about how you used to listen to music," you told him, "So I got you a more modern one."

"Your turn," Bucky said, giving you your present.

It wasn't wrapped, it was just a red box with a bow. You opened it and you looked to him for explanation.

It was a necklace with a dark silver star pendant.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, admiring the jewelry, "Thank you."

He gently took the necklace in his fingers, and looped it behind your neck, hooking it so now you were wearing it.

"I asked Shuri to make it from the scrap vibranium used to make my metal arm," he told you, a warm and loving smile on his mouth, "So you can have a piece of me with you."

Suddenly, you wondered if FRIDAY was right about you being in love with him.

"Ahem," said a human-like voice from the ceiling. It was FRIDAY, calling so you would look up.

The two of you saw a holographic mistletoe from the projector above you.

Damn, FRIDAY.

You smiled. It was a good excuse to kiss him, right? Wasn't that the rules of the mistletoe?

You reached up a little to press a short but sweet kiss on his lips, catching him off-guard. 

"I-" Bucky turned beet red, "can you do that again please?"

Pleasantly surprised, you nod as you let him caress your cheeks, and pull you in for a longer kiss, his lips moving against yours in sync, like you were pieces of a puzzle. You melted into his arms and laid a hand on his thigh for support.

"I love you," Bucky said as he pulled away. Wait, he thought to himself, I love you?! 

He meant to say merry christmas! 

In his mind, you only kissed him because of his mistletoe. He was seconds away from apologizing, but then a content sigh left your lips, "I love you, too," you admitted shyly

He looked at you with a loving look that has always been there, yet you've only noticed it now. His thumb stroke your cheek softly, the contrast of metal and flesh strangely comforting.

"What is it?" You asked.

He cracked a smile. "My dad used to spend christmas morning with my ma," he said, "She told me one day I'd find someone to spend it, too."

"Would she have approved of me?" You asked, curiosity laced im you silky voice.

"I swear to god she'd love you," he cupped both your cheek and pressed a kiss on the tip of your nose, "Merry Christmas, doll."

"Merry Christmas, James."

You made an internal note to self to thank FRIDAY later.

-end.

[someguynamedstevewrites]

My Roommate is an Apparition: WHAT A HORRIBLE NIGHT TO HAVE A DAD - Part 1

Based on characters created by @reddpenn

————————————-

It was Saturday afternoon and Lily was dancing around in a baggy shirt, baggy sweatpants, socks, and jamming out to Michael Jackson’s Thriller; blasting it out from her computer’s speakers.  She had been vacuuming the floor, washing dishes, gathering trash, and doing other reasonable adult chores with a spring in her step.  Lily was feeling fantastic and even if someone told her that her car had been towed and had a $300 fine, she wouldn’t have cared and continue to dance.

She was, to put it bluntly: hyped.  

Something she had been looking forward to for a very long time was coming and Lily could not contain her glee.  On the wall, her calendar had a big red circle around March 7th: the upcoming Thursday.  In the pantry were a wide variety of snacks, munchies, treats, and goodies (some of them were leftover from the Pink Panther marathon a few weeks back, but were never opened, so they were still good).  Visions of possible ways to decorate the apartment to celebrate floated through her head as her heart beat with excitement.  To most others, this Thursday wasn’t anything particularly special, but In about six days...

...Castlevania Season Three was going to premiere on Netflix.

————————————-

As Lily danced while she worked, a pair of eyes were watching from the walls.  Lily knew they were there, but didn’t mind, since she knew those eyes belonged to her apparition roommate.  Their name was “Tulpa” (since that’s what they said it was when Lily asked) and recently, Lily had begun addressing them by name as opposed to simply “Roommate” or “Roomie”.

“Hey Tulpa!” Lily called out to the pair of eyeballs embedded into the wall, “Hope you don’t mind the music!”

Materializing from the wall, the nose-less, ear-less, long haired, spiky-toothed being moved closer and stared at their roommate doing the “Boogie of Unreachable Back Itch” with a puzzled look on their face.  The apparition couldn’t remember the last time they ever saw Lily look this happy.  Usually, she wasn’t nearly this energetic on her days off when doing chores, so something good must have happened.

“Why... are you... dancing?” Tulpa asked quietly in their trademark raspy voice.  Unfortunately, they were too quiet since Lily didn’t hear a word they said over the music coming from the computer.

“Lily...”  her roommate called out slightly louder, “Why... are you... dancing!?”

Once again, Lily couldn’t hear a thing and her ghostly roommate was starting to get annoyed.  They needed to do something to get her attention, and in a way that didn’t disturb the neighbors, frighten Lily, or result in something breaking.  (The two of them had a very long chat about it after “The Pink-ening” back in February.)  Eyeing Lily’s computer, Tulpa got an idea and hovered over to it.

One quick YouTube search was all it took to change the music to something Tulpa was more... familiar with.

“IN THE HEART OF TRANSYLVANIA!

IN THE VAMPIRE HALL OF FAME, YEAH!

THERE’S NOT A VAMPIRE ZANIER THAN

DUCKULAAAAAAA!!!”

*click*

————————————-

Lily stopped the music and looked at Tulpa with a half-smile on her face.  “You rang?” she said jokingly.

“Why... are you... dancing?” asked Tulpa.

Lily chuckled to herself, “I’m glad you asked!” she said joyfully, “One of my favorite shows has a new season premiering this Thursday!  Castlevania!”

“Castle... vania?” Tulpa asked inquisitively.  Despite being an apparition with no physical organs or body parts, they did have a memory, and something about that name seemed familiar.  Almost reflexively, Tulpa said, “Simon... Belmont?”

Lily raised an eyebrow and looked at her surprisingly knowledgeable roommate.  “You know about Simon Belmont!?”

“Mega... Man...” Tulpa continued, “Kid... Icarus...”

Lily was going to ask what Tulpa was talking about when her phone began to ring.  Walking over, she picked up her smartphone and answered knowing exactly who it was on the other end.  From the phone came a baritone voice that could best be described as “Overly Hammy”.

“YOOOOUUUUU HAVE MET WITH A TERRIBLE FAAAATE!  A GREAT CUUUUUUURSE HAS BEEN PUT UPON YOOOOOUUUUU!  OOOOOooooooooooo!”

“Hi Dad,” Lily answered with a smile.

“Hey sweetie!” came a cheerful voice over the phone, “Looking forward to this Thursday!?”

“You bet I am!” beamed Lily, “Did you hear they cast Bill Nighy to play Saint Germain!?”

“I did!” her father beamed back.  

————————————-

As father and daughter chit-chatted on the phone, Tulpa looked over Lily’s shoulder with a slight look of envy.  They could see how happy Lily was on the phone talking with her family.  Tulpa, however, hadn’t used a phone in a very long time, and they were kind of amazed at how far phones had come.  Any phone that let someone watch cartoons on it was the best phone ever in their book.  Deep down, they wished they had one of their own.  The apparition gave a breathless, wistful sigh as it watched Lily talk, but then Lily’s face was suddenly no longer smiling.

————————————-

“What do you mean THIS weekend?” she asked over the phone.

“Well I did say I was coming over the first weekend of March, didn’t I?”

“Yeah!  March 7th and 8th, right!?” Lily asked starting to feel a little panicked now.

“Noooo...” her Dad trailed off, “I was talking about this weekend.”

“Dad!  This is not the first weekend of March!  It’s the last weekend of February!” Lily said with exasperation,

“Tomorrow’s March 1st, and a Sunday, right?” her Dad pleaded his case.

“Yeah!  But the first weekend of any month usually means the first FULL weekend of any month!  It doesn’t count if it’s half-and-half!” Lily stated as a sinking feeling began to form in her gut.

She could hear her Dad shrug over the phone, “Oh well, my mistake then.”

“YEAH!” said Lily, “I don’t even have the place cleaned up yet.  I’m not ready to have company over!”  Her roommate noticed that Lily was looking at them when they said that.

“Honey, you know I don’t care if the place is cleaned up or not,” her father said.

“I DO!” Lily almost shouted. 

Despite her protesting, the apartment was actually looking good that Saturday.  The vacuuming was finished, dishes were being washed in the dishwasher, trash had been taken out, the display cases for her rock collection had been dusted off, and the apartment was, for all intents and purposes, presentable.  The real problem was that Lily hadn’t gone over her Dad’s visit with Tulpa yet to  make sure they understood how to behave themselves.

“Look,” Lily began to beg, “Could you just stop by and visit next weekend?  It’d work a lot better for me.”

“Yyyyyyeeeaaahhhh...” her Dad said while trailing off, “...about that...”  As soon as he finished saying the word “about”, Lily began to feel a little nauseous as she whipped around to look at the front door.  Beads of sweat were starting to form on her forehead as the dreaded noise she feared most came from her front door.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

————————————-

Lily practically dropped the phone as her pupils shrank and panic began to set in.  She turned to her roommate, and tried to grab their hand.  Unfortunately, given Tulpa’s natural state of transparency, Lily’s hand went right through theirs.  Realizing that wasn’t going to work, Lily began to frantically move her arms and make gestures to get Tulpa to hide.

Tulpa, meanwhile, wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but picked up on Lily’s gestures and went into one of the bedrooms.  Lily then closed the door and walked quickly over to the front door.  She opened it up, and just as she suspected, there was her Dad standing right outside with his phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Hey, Hey!” he said with a smile, “Guess who’s here!”

Lily had to use every muscle she had to contort her face into a forced smile, “D-D-Dad!  Hi!”  There was no mistake that it was him.  There were very few people who would consider a T-shirt that had an 8-bit pixel sprite with the caption “Uncle Vlad’s Wall Chicken” on it as “casual going out” clothes.  It was a Christmas gift she had gotten him a few months earlier, and while she was glad to know it fit him okay, seeing him out and about in it was somehow incredibly embarrassing.

“May I come in?” he asked politely.

“Uhhhhh...”  Lily stammered, “C-Could you give me a second.  I just, ummm...” she trailed off while trying to think of an excuse, “...need to pick up some laundry off the floor.  Yeah.  Don’t want you stepping on any... underwear or socks or anything!”  Lily’s laundry had already been cleaned, folded, and put away, including the towels in the linen closet, but her Dad didn’t know that, and she was banking on it.

“Sure!” her Dad agreed, “I did kind of drop in unannounced.”

“THANKS DAD!” Lily again almost hollered as she had to hold herself back from slamming the door when she closed it.  She immediately ran to the room where Tulpa was and looked her square in the eyes.  “Okay,” she began, “I know this is sudden, but my DAD is here!  I’m going to need you to be on your BEST behavior while he’s here, okay?”

Tulpa blinked and looked at Lily with their usual vacant expression on their face.  “...why?”  

“BECAUSE... Because...” Lily trailed off as she tried to think of a good reason.  Tulpa couldn’t be seen by anyone other than her, and she wasn’t entirely sure if other people could hear Tulpa either.  But her ethereal roommate was somehow able to make the entire apartment pink last month all the way down to the toilet paper, and could hold and carry things in their ghost-like hands.  “...I don’t want to scare him off!” was the best excuse Lily could think of off the top of her head.

Tulpa nodded, “...okay...” she said.  Lily detected a hint of them sounding disappointed, but she’d find a way to make it up to them later.

“I’ll make it up to you later!”

[See? Told yah!]

Tulpa wasn’t entirely sure why Lily was acting so strange all of a sudden.  She was acting as though her Dad would be able to see them even though they both knew that wasn’t possible.  Despite this, Lily still seemed uncomfortable with the whole situation, and not wanting to trouble their friend, Tulpa nodded.

Lily followed up with a quick, “Thank you!” before turning around to dash to the front door.

————————————-

Opening the door again, Lily gestured to her father to come on in, “Make yourself at home!” she said like she knew full well just how cliche it was to say.

“Don’t mind if I do,” her Dad said with a smile as he walked in.  It was then that Lily noticed the backpack he had on.  She recognized it as the “Electronics” backpack her Dad carried whenever he was taking a laptop or any other electronic device with him to places.  He headed straight to the living room, took his backpack off and began fishing around inside of it.

Lily gulped, “Did you bring-?” she began to ask before her Dad pulled out a family treasure from inside the backpack.

“Indeed I did!” he said proudly as he cut her off.  In his hands was one of his most prized possessions:

A Nintendo Entertainment System.

It was the same NES that he got back when he was fourteen years old in 1986.  He had been a video game fan ever since the early days of Atari and took meticulous care of his game systems to make sure they lasted and functioned for decades to come.  Even in his middle-ages at forty-eight years old, he still had the same passion for video games as he did when he was a kid.

Only one question was on Lily’s mind which she had no trouble verbalizing: “Why?!”  

Her Dad grinned a smug grin as he reached into the backpack and pulled out a small, black, plastic sleeve that contained an NES cartridge in it.  It wasn’t just any NES cartridge either; it was Castlevania III: Dracula’s Curse.

Seeing that cartridge gave Lily mixed feelings.  She could remember the times growing up with her father when he would insist that she sit down and play video games with him.  But it often wasn’t so much to play them as it was to lecture her about them.  He would regularly go on and on about the history of video games, how significant they were to modern society and culture, nifty bits of trivia, and for Lily, NOTHING took away the fun from video games more so than trying to make them an educational experience.  In the back of her head, she knew they weren’t all like that; she still had many good memories playing games with her father (and playing the same games her father was lecturing about whenever he WASN’T lecturing), but the look in his eyes told her that this was going to be another one of his signature talks.

“Dad,” Lily pleaded, “No.  No, please!  Can’t we just, I dunno, watch Castlevania on Netflix?  Maybe check out the Japanese dub or something?”  She knew exactly what was about to happen.  He was going to connect the NES to her TV, put Castlevania III in, and then play it while talking about how the game eventually became the show she adored with voice acting by Richard Armitage and Graham McTavish.  All this to “prepare” for the season premiere in a few days.

Unfortunately for Lily, her father shook his head and said, “Now I didn’t spend my high school years breaking down blocks for wall meat and whipping away Medusa Heads for nothing.  C’mon!  Don’t you want to see your old man defeat Dracula?”

The answer to that was an emphatic “NO!” from Lily, but she wasn’t about to hurt her Dad’s feelings.  While it wasn’t how she planned to spend her Saturday, she figured that as soon as he got it out of his system, the sooner he could head back home.  Plus, talkative as he was, he was still rather decent at playing difficult video games even at forty-eight years old.  As long as everything went well, he ought to be able to finish the game in about an hour; two hours tops.

————————————-

Meanwhile, a pair of eyes was watching from the bedroom door (as in, within the bedroom door) as Lily’s Dad effortlessly hooked up the NES to the TV.  Tulpa began to remember some of the people that used to live here also had video game systems like the one Lily’s Dad was hooking up.   They were pretty interesting, and Tulpa was somewhat curious about them even if they weren’t cartoons.  Eager to see more of what was going on, they poked their head out more and more from the door.

Lily sighed as her Dad continued to fiddle with the cables behind the TV, and turned around in time to see Tulpa who was now poking their head out in full view.  Before Lily could say or do anything...

“AAUUGGHH!!”

Lily spun back around and looked at her father who looked like he had seen a ghost...

...but he was actually looking at the jumbled mess of pixels on the TV screen.  “Aww man,” he groaned, “I thought I cleaned this already!”  Turning to his daughter, he asked, “Hey can you reach into my backpack and grab the Q-Tips and alcohol?”

Sure enough, there was a bottle of Isopropyl alcohol and Q-Tips in the backpack, and Lily deftly fished them out and gave them to her man-child of a father.  Or was the correct term “Child-Man”?  Lily wasn’t quite sure but pushed that thought to the side as she said to him, “Hey, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick!  B.R.B.!”

“Okie dokie,” her Dad said as he happily cleaned the game cartridge pins.  He always found something so cathartic about cleaning cartridges and getting them to work.  It was almost zen-like.

Of course, Lily did not go to the bathroom.   Instead, she walked right over to Tulpa’s levitating elongated neck and head, opened the door they were peeking out from (which pulled their head out of the door), and marched in with a mixture of disapproval, frustration, and worry on their face.  “What are you DOING!?” she demanded with her teeth clenched and her voice lowered.

“Want to... see,” Tulpa said bashfully.  Lily noticed that they weren’t looking her in the eyes.

“It’s just my DAD and his games!” pleaded Lily.

“I’d like... to meet... him,” said the curious ghost.

Lily turned to look at the door, then back to Tulpa, and raised her thumb like a hitchhiker to point to the door behind her.  “Him!?” Lily said incredulously, “What for!? He can’t even see or hear you anyway!”

It was true that Tulpa could not be seen by anyone other than Lily, and Tulpa knew that all too well.  Not a single living soul was able to see or truly hear them any time before now.  Lily was the exception and neither of them had any idea why.  But, the apparition thought to itself, the person out in the living room was Lily’s father.  What if...

“AH HA!” Lily practically jumped from her father’s victorious cheer, “I GOT IT!” he crowed from the living room.   Lily did a small face palm as the shout gave her flashbacks to when she was eight-years old and her Dad would practically scream at the top of his lungs every time he died playing Ninja Gaiden after Lily had gone to sleep.  Few things were more terrifying than being woken up out of a deep dream by the shrill shrieks of your own father.

Lily turned to Tulpa and made a shushing gesture, “If you’re gonna watch, just... make sure not to touch anything so he won’t know someone’s there, okay!?”

Tulpa nodded, somewhat solemnly, as Lily stepped out to join her Dad in the living room.  Inside the room Tulpa was in, there was a large mirror attached to a vanity table.  The inquisitive incorporeal individual looked at its reflection in the mirror.  They could see their matted hair and large googly eyes, as well as lack of facial features, and for the first time in its existence, began to think about its appearance.

No one before could see them, so what they looked like never really mattered.  Lily was the first person who could see Tulpa, and she accepted them for just the way they were.  That was something they really liked about Lily.  At the same time though, they never thought about how they wanted others to see them if they could see them.

Tulpa thought about how Lily included them in the things she did, and how much they enjoyed spending time with Lily.  Even if they weren’t watching cartoons, the time they shared was always fun and enjoyable.  They wanted to get to know Lily better, and what better way than by getting to meet her Dad?  Wouldn’t it be better if they were all together?

Sure he probably wouldn’t be able to see them, but...

...maybe he could?

And if he could, what would he think of them?

What would Tulpa want them to think of them?

Continuing to stare at themselves in the mirror, Tulpa made a decision.   It was going to take all of their concentration, but “nothing ventured, nothing gained.”  It began by taking a very, very, very deep breath.  They sucked in as much air as they could, practically inflating themselves like a balloon.

Once they had inhaled as much as they could, they held their mouth shut and tried to squeeze the air out using whatever specters had for muscles.   The human equivalent would have been if someone were to hold their breath, pinch their nose, and try to get their ears to pop.   A small popping noise could be heard in the room, as Tulpa succeeded in popping out some ears.

————————————-

Back in the living room, Lily was resting her arm on the armrest of the couch, with face resting in the palm of her hand, and looking extremely bored.  Her Dad was already sitting on the opposite end of the couch, navigating Trevor Belmont through Stage 1 after showing off how the game’s prologue fit the Netflix show’s narrative.  Lily was, naturally, not paying attention to any of it as her mind was somewhere else completely.

“What am I doing?” she thought to herself, “Why does it matter if Tulpa’s out here or not?   I mean, it’s not like Dad can see them or anything.”  As she thought to herself, deep down she came to realize what her problem was.  It wasn’t about her Dad meeting Tulpa, it was about Tulpa meeting her Dad!

Despite him being good natured and an affable person, he was still her Dad, and Dads by definition tended to be embarrassing as Hell!  He had actually researched Dad jokes and has kept an arsenal of them up his sleeves ever since Lily could remember.  He rarely ever acted like an average 48-year old man in public, and some times, Lily would feel ashamed that between the two of them, she would be considered the adult.

(During the Christmas season, he saw all the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1-Up Arcade Cabinets on display in Wal-Mart and would always turn them on and set the volume to maximum!  According to him, he was trying to recreate the “arcade atmosphere” of his youth.)

But despite the occasional embarrassment, he was still her Dad, and she wouldn’t trade him for any other Dad in the world.  He was always open minded, and whenever he didn’t understand something, he made an effort to try and understand.  Like that time he asked her to show him her rock collection and tell him about all the different kinds she had and what made them so unique.  He was always a cool Dad like that.

He raised her the best that he could and helped her with her homework.  He drove her to places she wanted to go when she was little, and took her to theme parks, the zoo, science centers, museums... he was always actively involved in her upbringing and that meant a lot to Lily.

The sound of a door opening and closing could be heard from the hallway.

“I’m overreacting, aren’t I?” she thought to herself.   “I should have just asked Tulpa to sit down and watch him play. I mean, misery loves company, right?   And plus he-“

It was at that moment that Lily’s eyes began to widen as she realized she had just heard the sound of a door opening and closing come from the hallway.  Her Dad turned around at the noise and Lily whipped herself around at breakneck speed.  She nearly choked on her own spit at what she saw.

It was Tulpa. 

 It was definitely Tulpa...

...But they looked human!

They had a nose, two ears, and opaque, pale skin.  Their hair still looked matted and unwashed, their eyes were still large, and their teeth still looked sharp even though they were a bit more rounded.  They were wearing a turtleneck blouse and a long skirt that went all the way down to their ankles.  On their feet were white socks which were probably there since Tulpa hadn’t really gotten the hang of manifesting realistic feet yet.  And they were definitely female (or going for the feminine look).

They looked kind of like that one really tall girl from that really popular anime everyone kept talking about, “Hands Off My Aerosol Can” or something like that.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room that felt like it stretched on for an eternity (even though it only lasted a fraction of a second).  Lily’s Dad was looking right at them, or at least, in their direction.   Lily could tell Tulpa had “dressed up” to meet her father, but doubted it would have mattered since there was no way he could-

“Hi there! You must be Lily’s roommate!” greeted Lily’s Dad.

...To Be Continued...

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 6 - cosy

24 days - 24 oneshots | a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | prompt list can be found here

read on ao3

rated: g | words: 1492

Riza curled further in on herself as Roy reached to rearrange the thick blanket he’d draped over them both. It wrapped around her body, pulled right up to her chin, then spread across Roy’s legs, the ends falling off the edge and trailing on the wooden floor. Once satisfied she was covered completely Roy settled back with a sigh. One of his arms stretched out down Riza’s arm and rested respectfully atop the blanket on her waist.

She’d never sat with him like this before. He was lying stretched out on the couch and she was on her side, wrapped up tight. Roy had pulled her across his chest. Riza had suggested after their cold walk they should get underneath a blanket to warm themselves up. In theory it was the best idea but in practice it was embarrassing. Imagine thinking it was a good idea to curl up against her father’s apprentice!

Roy had blinked at her for a second before shrugging and nonchalantly agreeing. “If that’s what you want to do Riza,” he replied. His teeth only chattered once but a violent shudder overtook his gangly teenage frame.

Before Roy could see her flushed cheeks Riza darted upstairs to grab the thickest blanket she could find. With her father out of town for research purposes at least she didn’t have to worry about being quiet for him.

The radio filled the quiet room with mellow and relaxing notes. The fire crackled opposite them. The warmth was threatening to send her off to sleep. Outside the window the world was a winter wonderland. Snow continued to fall steadily and silently. It would not stop until late afternoon tomorrow the weather report revealed. Despite the frustration of her errands being put on hold, she also wasn’t stupid. Venturing out and getting caught in a relentless snowstorm would not be a good idea.

Her and Roy had gone into town that morning for supplies while there was a lull in the storm. The mile walk through snow that reached up to their knees was exhausting. By the time they reached town Riza was panting heavily, but it had become easier to walk. Roads had been cleared and the remaining slush was being churned up by horses’ hooves and the wheels of their drawn carts.

By the time they were done, snow had started to fall once more, and the world took on a blueish tint as small flakes fluttered down from the sky. When they were halfway home the snowflakes were heavier as they paused for a much-needed rest, but the storm was nowhere near as violent as it had been initially. There was no howling wind and no biting cold. As Riza rested her paper bag for a second on a crumbling stone wall, her breath escaped from her lips in a steam as she shook out her arms to rid them of cramp.

“You okay?”

Riza nodded, breathing too hard to speak just yet.

She picked up her bag before the paper could get soaked with the residual water on the stone. Her arms were already protesting loudly to carrying it. They still had half a mile to go but they were almost home.

Despite the tiring trek, they both rejoiced in the beauty of the landscape. Roy’s eyes were wide with wonder, sparkling as he looked around, and he marvelled at how deep the snow was. He’d never seen snow this thick before, he revealed. Not in Central.

They’d even thrown a snowball or two. Roy had smirked, thinking he was being sneaky, and had subtly packed the snow together behind Riza’s back while she trudged on ahead. He was not as stealthy as he hoped though. As his arm reared back to throw, Riza whipped around and hit him with her own. Square in the face.

Spluttering and clutching at his face Roy stumbled and dropped his snowball.

“Ow!” His complaint was loud but accompanied by a laugh.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit your face!” Riza hurried over, reaching to grab his shoulder to support him. The bag in her arms dropped into the snow, the paper already turning darker as it wet through. She dipped her head worriedly as she tried to assess the damage she’d done. The skin around his eye was very red and when his lids blinked open the eyeball looked irritated. Concern and fear coiled in her gut like a spring, jumping out of it and into her heart and throat.

“Your aim is ridiculously good,” he complimented. “Good shot.” With one eye squeezed closed in pain he still shot her a toothy grin.

So, now, they were both curled up her father’s couch. After collecting the blanket Riza had wrapped some ice up in a towel for Roy to press against the swelling around his eye. His body shivered still from the biting cold of the ice. Every so often he’d jerk underneath her. It made guilt settle inside her heart and grip it painfully.

“Sorry,” she mumbled into the blanket that was covering her lips.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry about your eye.” Her voice was a little stronger but still quiet.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he dismissed.

“But I am,” she insisted.

“Riza, it’s fine,” he chuckled fondly. “I’ve had worse than snowball to the face.” He settled back on the cushions further with another sigh. “Honestly, it’s okay. Compared to snowball fights with my sisters this is nothing.”

“Snowball fights?”

“Oh yeah,” Roy gushed. “We get split into teams and everything. Aunt Chris officiates it. Some of them have deadly throws. Kind of like you do,” he winked then laughed as her cheeks grew red with shame. “It’s a big family thing. It’s neat.”

“What else do you do?” Her question was quiet and spoken into the brief silence that had enveloped them. Her father had forgotten about Christmas, so they never celebrated it. It was just another day. However, hearing Roy’s stories of dinners with his large family, full of warmth and laughter, made her yearn for it. She wanted that. And she wanted to hear all his stories about it.

“What do you mean?”

“On Christmas.” Riza cleared her throat. “Or around Christmas. What else do you do together?”

“Oh, well, we wake up on Christmas Day and fight to get downstairs first.” Roy snickered, “my aunt quickly tells us to shut up and stop causing a stampede, but it doesn’t stop some of them. We exchange gifts all together then Aunt Chris shoos us away to get washed up. Once everyone is showered we go back and play with or try out our new gifts while Aunt Chris makes us all breakfast. The older siblings are called in to help her. Being the only boy I’m usually roped into it too,” he grumbled, “but sometimes I can find ways to get out of it,” he added with a wicked grin.

Roy continued to regale Riza with tales of his Christmas traditions. He made her giggle quietly, snort unexpectedly, and caused her eyes to open wide in wonder and shock. Every story he shared she cherished and wondered what their Christmas together would be like, if they ever got the chance. Riza hoped to experience it one day. Her father would never let her go home with Roy for the holidays, but it would be nice to dream.

“I would love to experience that one day,” Riza whispered wistfully. Realising she’d spoken aloud, horrified, she groaned internally and buried her face underneath the blanket. It also meant she was nuzzling against his chest and that made her face turn even more red. However, she stalled for just a second. Just underneath her ear, Riza could hear Roy’s heartbeat. It thudded steadily as she listened.

She’d never heard his heartbeat before. She’d never really listened to anyone’s heartbeat before. Riza found it instantly comforting, despite her embarrassment.

“I would love it if you could too.”

Riza jumped when Roy started speaking. She’d been so focussed on the revelation of hearing his heartbeat that it startled her.

“Really?” She dared to be bold and ask the question.

His hand gently rested upon her shoulder. The weight of it was another source of comfort. When he squeezed it, Riza felt her stomach somersault.

“I would really like it,” he confirmed, voice low in a murmur.

Her wide smile was hidden underneath the blanket but Riza did shift so she could rest her ear back over his heart once more.

Roy continued with more stories, his voice low and soothing, and it caused Riza’s eyes to close without her realising it. Underneath her ear his voice rumbled in his chest as he continued, lulling her into a warm and relaxed sleep. Exhaustion had taken its hold over her and her body grew heavier the longer she listened to him talk.

It was the most comfortable sleep she’d ever had.

[calypsoff]

Eighty. Part 3

I am so annoyed at him; they are truly just shook we are here, and I am so confused on how I should be. Chris is an ass “come in Robyn? It’s so good to see you here in VA” Clinton gestured me in, I was just thinking of murdering my husband “hey” I smiled, Clinton awkwardly hugged me because of Rylee in my arms “really nice to see you here” I smiled, looking over at Chris trying to get his attention but he isn’t giving it me “ohhh my beautiful, look at you!” Joyce half shouted and hugged me, kissing my cheek as she did. They are so happy we are here, and their home is Christmas ready “close the door, it’s cold for her. Can I see her? Please” nodding my head “of course” moving the blanket back, Rylee is still asleep “I didn’t predict how cold it would be, I am so used to hot weathers. I forgot her coat too; I am so mad at myself. I’m really angry, Chris! Get the stuff” I eyeballed him, he’s just here talking “I will help son” Clinton said “don’t be, it happens. I am so happy you are here; I am so emotional. Look at me” I chuckled “don’t cry, it’s been a while. You saw me at my worst in hospital, barely moving but I am well now. We are both ok, take her” I gestured, Joyce is a wreck “you know what, I was truly saying to myself that she will have brown eyes, it’s dominate but then I realised that you have coloured eyes so she’s taking after her nana” Joyce is so emotional “she has hazel eyes?” Nodding my head, fixing the blanket over her. It’s a little chilly in the air “when she wakes up you will see, so you didn’t know we was coming?” I asked “no, this has really made my Christmas Robyn. To see my grandchild, my son, my daughter in law. I am so happy. My sweet Angel” I am going to murder Chris.

I have bought so much stuff that it looks like we are moving to VA, Clinton huffed out “last thing, he is bringing it in. Bought a lot of things” Clinton chuckled saying, then he noticed Joyce holding Rylee “ah, she is so beautiful. My heart just misses her so much” Chris came inside and shuddered, he will be fucking shuddering again soon “all in, it’s cold out there” he closed the door behind him, I am staring at him because I want to speak to him “Joyce and Clinton, you can both go in. I need to speak to my husband” Chris knows, the stupid look on his face he knows what I am about to cause “you know what; we haven’t made the bedroom up for you. When Tootie is back I will get her to do it, Clinton isn’t she a diamond. Robyn was saying that she has hazel eyes, she thought it would be brown” watching them both walk off, he honestly lied and just came here, what if they were busy “why?” I said “why what?” He knows damn well what I am speaking on “don’t give me that Chris” looking behind me “they don’t even know!” I said in high pitch whisper “and? There is no big deal, they will do anything for her. Calm down, you really need some dick in your life” Chris sniggered walking by me but I grabbed his arm “I am going to murder you Chris, you can’t do that. You had me here confused, they are confused too. Don’t ever do that again, you tell them. I feel awful” he is so laid back about it all, he is just laughing “you’re a very feisty rabbit, relax” he jolted off so I couldn’t grab him again, he is a pain. He is so excited about going away for sex that he is hyper as fuck, he is happy, and he got me here being moody but it’s wrong, he should have asked.

“Are rabbits vicious?” Making my way to the living room, he’s going to annoy me now. I just know my husband so well; he’s going to say stupid shit “erm they are lovely little things why?” Chris sniggered “little? They are are big, they have a big booty on them though” I am not even sitting next to Chris, I am sitting away from him because he’s extra annoying “well some have a furry tail on the back, don’t tell me you’re getting Rylee a rabbit?” Joyce said, she is disapproving of a pet I see “we have one already, no need” Chris looked at me “Chris, I mean it” glaring at him “ok, mom will you take care of Rylee? That is all we came for” staring at Chris in utter shock “really?” Joyce said in shock, Clinton looks confused “uh yeah? Why are you shocked? Your duty is to babysit” he has a ugly mouth “but I just didn’t think you both would allow us, she just isn’t anyone?” Joyce looked between us both “why you think that Joyce?” I am intrigued to know why we wouldn’t let them take care of Rylee, I would never say no to them “because my beautiful grandchild is precious, she is known, I see her face on magazines. The world is celebrating her so I just felt like she needed protection and we can’t give that; I was so shocked. I was saying to Clinton, that’s my grand baby on there. So I am shocked that you do” that is understandable “Joyce, I totally understand what you mean, and I get where you come from in terms of what you are saying but you are her grandparents and I would let her come here, she will be coming here. I can’t be so overprotective of her, I want to be, but I can’t. The reason why Chris and I came here, he has no sense. I thought you both knew, he made out you knew. I am very angry at him because we came here without a clue, you both could have been busy, so he’s an idiot for that. Chris said I want to take you away to Bora Bora, my mother will take care of her, now to me that sounds like you knew. Clearly not, and he’s an idiot” he can laugh all he wants, he angers me “oh Chris, now what if I was going to my in laws? You know I do for Christmas” Joyce doesn’t look pleased now “you would come running back, it’s Rylee, you wouldn’t refuse” he’s a whole pain in the ass for this.

I smiled watching both grandparents coo over Rylee, she is awake the little madam but hasn’t cried so this is a good sign “if you both are busy then we can just take her with us? It’s wrong what Chris has done, I do not condone that behaviour” Joyce smiled shaking her head “I would love to take care of her Robyn” getting up from the couch “I am going to leave the room, I want to know she is ok with you both, they say that babies can sense when their mothers are close that is because of the milk we produce, I am going to put stuff away if you don’t mind” Clinton smiled lightly “you can do as you please, this is your home too Robyn” making my way out of the room, if she doesn’t cry while I am away that is good, if she does then we can’t leave her here at all “I will help you” Chris said “good” I mumbled, he better be coming to help me, I am not going to be picking up everything “rabbit, don’t be mad with me. I told you that my parents do not mind it, they will always be here for us Robyn” turning to Chris “I don’t like what you did Chris, I wouldn’t do that to my mother. When I go Barbados I tell my mother, or someone there. What if they were busy, I don’t want to burden them so yes I am annoyed with you. Pick up the stuff for me” waving my hand “be nice” pulling a face at him “the hell I am, hug me and we fight” Chris snorted laughing, he is still laughing because he is a joker.

Rylee is an emotional wreck, of course she is but she took her time to do it so it could be just that she is hungry “you know what, she took her time. But it could be just for feeding, I have pumped” taking Rylee from Joyce carefully “dramatic much, hey. Calm down now Rylee” she is not happy “you can explain to me what I need to do, I mean I do but she might have different habits” nodding my head “sure, come. We can talk, you calm down now” placing the pacifier in her mouth “she wasn’t happy on the jet either actually, she didn’t like the ear defenders” making my way to the second living room “your home is beautiful Joyce, where is Tootie and Desean actually?” she isn’t even here “she is spending time with the baby father and Desean, he isn’t used to him because he hasn’t been around but now he wants to know his son so that is where” letting out an oh as I sat down “I was wondering, but Joyce. I trust you with Rylee so much, I have bought a travel crib so if you want you can put it in your room and tonight you can have Rylee with you and see how it goes. I have the pumped milk and formula, you can pick and choose but she likes the milk from me mostly, I notice she leaves a lot when it’s formula. I bought her lounger; she loves sitting in it Joyce. Place her in it and let her watch you, talk to her. She wakes up about seven now, play time with her. Unless she wakes up at night I do not really play, it’s bottle and sleep again. I bought her baby bath, her body wash and everything. This is why we have so many cases here but the things I bring, I won’t take back with me. I will leave it here because I don’t think it will be the last time at all, you will probably have my mother harassing you, she likes her facetimes, she is going to be jealous about this” I laughed “me and your mom call each other three times a week now, and it’s lovely to speak too, I don’t mind. But I think you are right; I will have her tonight. I think she will wake up at night, it’s a different setting for her you see” Joyce has been a mother so she knows, I trust her judgement in this so I would never say she is wrong.

Hugging Tootie, she came back finally from her little outing a little later then I assumed but I am tired “you know what I am getting old, I am going to bed. Maybe it’s the time difference getting to me, I look a mess too” I giggled “oh stop it, no you don’t. I was like that when Desean was a newborn, sleep was a priority for me, I wanted to be in a good mood so please don’t think that. We can catch up tomorrow” nodding my head “I will be awake early but yeah” I smiled “hi handsome, had a good day today” he grinned “good, ok I am going to bed. I am tired, Joyce if you do need me then you know where I am, just wake me” seeing Chris walking back in “I am going to bed too” rolling my eyes “oh boy” I said, I don’t know why but I did “what for?” Tootie laughed out “like here there is no TV or anything, the bed is smaller too, so I am going to have to listen to him, he already annoyed me so why” Chris mushed Tootie face away “what you laughing at, I am going to bed. Night” turning away from him to go upstairs, feeling his arms wrap around my shoulders “why don’t you want me?” placing my hands behind my butt, he keeps doing this and humping me “Chris, we are at your parents house, get away” trying to shrug him off “I mean it!” I spat before I went up the steps “ok but” he moved from me “I am sorry” nodding my head, I will just get over it, he is high as shit.

Chris is not even laid on his side, he is laid across the bed once I got back into the room “I don’t need you annoying me, like can you please lay properly. I am cold too, I don’t like it” I frowned “oh you cold, you want me to check the heaters?” shaking my head “just move along” moving the covers back “ok, I can warm you up” I just want to get under the covers to be honest “turn the light off too, when you do” getting into bed “you look so different” raising an eyebrow “more ugly or what?” I questioned “I don’t know, you look like a mother, you look like your mother” he clicked his fingers “yeah, you look like a mother. I mean yours, good way because your body is full like a mother, I mean your mother. No because then that would mean, no I don’t like your mother like that” he is so high “what kind of strain of weed have you had?” staring into eyes, he is so out of it “are we going to kiss?” he laughed, this strain has got him fucked up “what is that, on my arm” looking at the Bape logo on his arm and then him, I did it again “it’s nothing, just turn the light off” Chris nodded his head at the same time as me, he is copying me “wow you look like erm damn, I forgot” he started mumbling something “I think you need to sleep” Chris stared at me for a while “yeah” he rested his head down and didn’t bother to move, I want to know what the fuck he had tomorrow because he is out of it, I want that shit too.

[raisingsupergirl]

My Life With COVID-19: Week 1--Say Goodbye to Food

I never thought being a statistic would come with so much baggage. It's not that I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, I thought it already had happened to me. A couple of times. And maybe it did. But none of them were like this. I'm going to try to explain it as best as I can (you know, for science and future generations), but bear with me. COVID brain is definitely a thing.

I guess this story starts on 12/12/20. That's the day that my dear friend passed away. We were supposed to start a Dungeons & Dragons campaign together soon. Him, me, and three other good friends. But that Saturday, I got the text that he had passed away the previous night (not related to COVID, as far as I'm aware). Well, that following evening, those three other friends and I got together to remember him, to process some emotions, and to drink whiskey. The next day I woke up feeling… less than perfect. Of course, I thought it was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol, but it was weird. I didn't drink that much. Not to feel that bad. And there were some weird things, too. My eyeballs hurt (really bad) like I had a fever, but I didn't have a fever. And my fatigue level was through the roof. Other than that, normal body aches and lack of appetite that come with over-indulgence, so I didn't think much of it. Even when I woke up on Monday with persistent symptoms, I just assumed I was getting REALLY old and should never drink again. Yeah, I'm kind of dumb sometimes.

Monday and Tuesday could be characterized by general lack of energy, some mild congestion, and those danged achy eyeballs. And the only food that appealed to me was soup, and only in small amounts. "Just a little cold," I told myself. Even still, I had the good sense to be extra-cautious with my hand washing and mask wearing procedures. Unfortunately, I didn't have the good sense to get tested at that time. Mostly because my insurance doesn't cover testing (which is $150/swab), but also because I was in denial. I needed to work. My patients needed treatment. I was important… irreplaceable. And, of course, I didn't want to have to call my friends and tell them I'd exposed them Saturday night.

Wednesday was more of the same, but I felt even more fatigued. Then, someone else I'd come into contact with the previous week let me know that they'd tested positive. Crap. That's when the pieces started falling into place. And the last one fell as I was drinking a glass of alcohol (elderberry tincture, actually. Which I'd made myself as a COVID preventative… guess I should have started drinking it earlier…). While I sipped, I was actually hanging out with those same Saturday friends, but this time virtually. We were playing computer games. And about halfway through the glass of elderberry goodnes, I noticed that it wasn't nearly as floral or alcoholic tasting as it should have been. I assumed it was getting watered down, but suspicion started creeping up my spine. And by the end of the glass, it tasted like straight water (which tastes like nothing…). Like some infected dummy straight out of a zombie movie, I told no one and went to bed, hoping against hope that I would wake up to the smell of bacon (or anything).

When my alarm went off the next morning, I popped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. First thing I did? Took a long whiff of my deodorant stick. Nothing. I stuck the toothpaste up to my nose. Still nothing. Brushed my teeth. Foamy nothing. Went to the bathroom. Thankfully nothing. And then it was time to go downstairs, face my wife, and finally say it out loud. "I can't smell anything. It's completely gone." And that's the moment that it became real. No turning back. One rapid test later, and my fate was sealed. My boss started clearing my schedule for the next week, and my mind started racing with all of the people I needed to call. All the things I needed to do. What my life would look like for the next ten days. Even now, I don't know if the virus was effecting my cognition and emotions or not, but I do know that I was a mess.

By the time I got home, my world was spinning. I was angry, ashamed, confused, defeated, and overwhelmed. Mostly overwhelmed. I made sure my wife had pulled our daughter from school, and then I went up to my room. Not because I was quarantining from them, but because I couldn't handle being around anyone, even those whom I loved most (I mean, I'd be spending plenty of time with them over the next week anyway, right?).

Over the next hour, I felt like someone with an STD contacting all of my past… well, you know. I texted, I messaged, I called. Everyone was incredibly understanding. They all wanted to know how I was doing. And it felt almost shameful saying that I felt fine. "Just a little fatigued, eyeballs hurt a little, some congestion. And the no smell thing." It's funny how that didn't dawn on me yet. In the flurry of confusion, I hadn't stopped to consider what life without smell would be like. That revelation would come later. No, right now I was focused on the bigger things. I wouldn't be able to attend my friend's funeral this Saturday. I wouldn't be able to host Portmas (an annual Christmas celebration with those same friends) that night. I wouldn't be able to go to work for over a week. The days would feel like months… Have I mentioned that I'm a bit of a work-a-holic? Yeah, well, there was a BIG part of me right then that thought, "God did this. I wouldn't slow down. I wouldn't quit working. Even when I was sick, I was too dumb to take a step back. So God took my smell away. It's my fault for being so stubborn. And God finally stepped in." Yeah, those are some thoughts that I'll continue to unpack over the next couple of weeks, but for now it's enough to say that my thoughts and emotions were about as confused as my senses.

Speaking of which, my lovely wife made me a can of chicken-n-noodle soup for lunch. And it felt great. Warm, soothing, and satisfying. But with each bite, reality settled in the pit of my broth-laden stomach. It wasn't that I couldn't taste ANYTHING. There was something there. A touch of saltiness and a hint of umami (look it up). My tongue wasn't completely dead… but my nose was. And so, another cascade of confused emotions. More anger. More fear. Google said "most" patients got their smell back in a week or two, but for some it could take up to a year. And a small percentage never got it back. NEVER!? And at best, I didn't know if I could handle two weeks. Honestly, I didn't.

If you haven't lost your sense of smell, I'm sure you think I was overreacting. I would have, too, before it happened to me (Yes, I'm aware of the irony of my blog post a couple of weeks ago). But I want to try and explain the seriousness of this situation to you. Maybe fore some it's not so bad—those who are suffering REAL COVID symptoms. Those fighting for breath and for life. But for those of use who feel otherwise "normal," it's a panic-inducing affliction. For example, I'm a fledgling home brewer. Do you know what all beer tastes like when you have no smell? Like water with a ghost of bitterness on both sides of the tongue. Do you know what straight whiskey tastes like? Exactly the same with just a slight warmth in the chest. And so, my brewing hobby is done. Just done. And cooking? There's no point. Everything might as well be raw cucumbers and unseasoned French fries. Texture and temperature. That's literally the only variation. Well… almost literally.

In my panic, I NEEDED to know what my limits were. I needed to know if I could find any enjoyment from food. And so, I went to the extremes. Cloves, even when eaten straight, had absolutely no flavor. Straight salt registered a little on the tip and back of my tongue. Sugar felt kind of thick on my tongue, and if I tried imagining it, I thought I could taste it a little. Cayenne pepper was a little tingly in the back of my throat, but nothing more. Horseradish did nothing at first and only a little tingling on the top of my mouth afterward (mind you, I ate enough of all of these things to kill an elephant). And finally, I took a bite of a lime. Whoa! That about knocked me over. Imagine not tasting anything for 24 hours and then suddenly biting into a lime. That's exactly what it tasted like. Okay, well, I couldn't actually taste any lime characteristics, but that SOUR sensation registered off the charts. The sensation was both hopeful and frustrating, and those two emotions fit in perfectly with my general disposition.

That night, I was mean. Cranky toward my wife. She made dinner, and I was bitter about it. Airfried shrimp and tater tots with cucumbers on the side. She was TRYING to satisfy my texture and temperature requirements. And she did well. But it was still ash in my mouth, cotton balls in my stomach. And no one seemed to understand my frustration and fear.

But that night, I realized there was something I hadn't considered, too. My family is close. We hug and kiss. We cuddle. And so, there didn't seem to be any reason for me to start quarantining from them now. Besides, both of my daughters already had the sniffles, so the likelihood was high that they already had the virus. And my wife thought that she'd already had it a few weeks before. But… if she hadn't. If she was still susceptible. I wasn't worried about her safety, so much. She's healthy. She works out, eats right, and nurtures her already strong immune system. But, if she lost her smell, too…

Okay, hear me out. This isn't just about food enjoyment or fart detection (yes, my wife giggled at the dinner table because she farted right next to me without me knowing…). It's about safety. Have you ever considered how dangerous it would be to live in a house with a gas stove if no one could smell? I mean, presumably the kids might notice something, but would they understand enough to let us know? I'm honestly not sure I would take that gamble. So here's hoping my wife keeps smelling, because I really don't want to move out.

Oh, speaking of my wife smelling, there's one last revelation I had about anosmia (lack of smell). For an anosmic person to take a shower is truly a selfless act. Think about it.

Anyway, by the time I post this (12/23/20), my quarantine will officially be over. I will have spent a week at home. So I'll definitely have more to tell. But these first few days are enough for now. Stay safe, friends. And don't forget to stop and smell the hot cocoa before you miss your chance.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Chapter Three

                                A special thanks to @statell​ for all the help

Previous chapters on AO3 

Chapter Three

The day after Hogmanay, the world looked completely new and different to Jamie. It always did because of his mother telling him about the new year, fresh beginnings and a casting off of mistakes and baggage from the year before. Gather yer blessins to take into the new year and forget the rest, she would say.

Jamie spent time hiking the hills where ever the snow would allow. He needed to be alone in the uncomplicated outdoors so his twisted mind could unravel, set goals for the new year, and dream about a lovely future. His mother’s voice was heard again telling him to have a picture in his mind of where he wanted to be in a year. “Make a braw picture in your in mind so yer feet will know which way to go, Jamie boy.”

By this time next year… Hmm Reunite with his childhood friends and celebrate Hogmanay together. He would see the finished barn he promised Jenny he would build for her, three years ago. Hiking and climbing once a week to build his strength and overall health. He would pay it forward in Edinburgh, he and Claire, with reading programs, book clubs and free classes for computers and creative writing.

He would have to open another store this year but this time he would find a way to pull any local bookseller into his project rather than leave them to mourn.

He would keep his workweek to forty hours, well fifty at most, when the new project was underway.

Jamie was smiling as he saw Lallybroch in the distance. He felt better and he had a plan. Throughout his hike and planning the coming year, the veiled girl beckoned him. Get outa my head temptress, ye mean nothin to me, he thought.

Claire had danced at many celebrations during the holidays and it was time to treat herself with some new clothes. She would not feel buyer’s remorse because the bank account would hardly notice the loss of Benjamins. Still, she called in reinforcement to prevent her from bolting at the first price tag.

“Geillis, I am walking into Epitome right now and if you don’t hurry, I promise to buy every beige garment I see.”

“Impossible Claire because I’m already here with a full dressin room waiitin for ye. Look up for Christ’s sake before ye crash into the makeup counter.”

When Claire looked up, there was Geillis pointing to a dressing room. Claire was surprised by all the color in the garments and she balked saying she wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing any of it.

Geillis held a beautiful royal blue sweater out for her. “Ye wear leggings underneath and boots that fit yer calf or ankle boots with a heel for date night. Jesus Claire, dinna roll eyes at me, ye need to consider going out with a man when one of them asks ye.”

“They only ask when I dance, and the shock of seeing the real me will have them running for the hills I’m afraid.”

“So we lessen the chasm between ye and the other ye and it starts with color and beautiful clothes. Dinna forget I’m with ye enough to know ye made a small fortune over the holiday. I think Omar is jealous, God knows I am. What about this one?”

For the rest of the afternoon, the girls ran from one shop to another as Claire’s back seat filled with her brave purchases. Sweaters, leggings, scarfs, boots, tops, jeans, a tailored coat and soft comfortable dresses for curling up on a couch or chair for a book club meeting. Claire was feeling braver and laughing more, until Geillis put the fear of God into her heart by stopping at a salon. It was the best in Edinburgh, so she marched inside to make Claire an appointment.

The man behind the counter was model gorgeous with jet black hair and crystal blue eyes. His wide mouth was adorned with a trimmed mustache that made his white teeth sparkle. Geillis started at the top of his perfect head and devoured bite-size pieces hoping he was tall and hung like a horse.

Claire raced in after Geillis to stop her and witnessed her friend morph into a purring, circling, huntress. His name was Joseph and he had a cancellation and could take Claire right now. Claire rapidly shook her head no, but Geillis forgot how to hear as she pulled her reluctant friend to follow Joseph. He led the ladies into his own private room and barely heard a word from Claire before he started cutting. Claire looked from Geillis to the stylist and figured neither one would be communicating with her now, so she closed her mouth and her eyes. She could hear some lady in the main salon complaining bitterly that she had been on Joseph’s waiting list for a year and this was just not fair!

Claire hated her hair since she was old enough to have an opinion. It was frizzy-curly that she tamed with loads of hairpins and detangler. It was like a curse on her feminity because she never could style it, wear it down or in a ponytail. On her rare trips to the bedroom for sex she would emerge looking quite like Einstein with a red face. He could shave it off for all she cared. It was why she loved wearing wigs so much.

Joseph was wrapping Claire’s hair in large plastic rods, allowing Geillis to flirt and toss her hair like some crazy person. Claire peaked up at the two of them and noticed Joseph was caught in her web, like a hooked fish that Claire hoped knew how to cut hair. The eyes closed and her mind practiced her new routines until she felt Joseph take her hand.

The amount of hair on the floor was staggering and Claire’s hand instantly reached for her head but only touched the plastic rods. She was seated and then laid back with her neck locked into a U shaped cut out in the ceramic sink. It was like a torture device sculpted for maximum pain that was quickly getting worse. She looked up and saw both faces above her, but they were talking to each other and didn’t seem to notice her. It can’t get any worse she thought until freezing water gushed out of a hand-held sprayer that soaked her face dripping into her sweater.

The big rods were removed, one more soaking and a towel dropped on her face as Geillis pulled Joseph into a corner to play with his hair. Claire held the towel to her dripping hair and sat down in the stylist’s chair that was unfortunately turned away from the mirror. Claire twisted her head trying to see what had become of her hair until she was jolted back by Joseph man-handling the towel and squeezing the water out of her hair. Claire glared at Geillis.

Next, a loud blow dryer was following chunks of her hair wound around a brush as Joseph’s expert hands pulled and twisted sections of hair while staring at Geillis. It wasn’t intolerable. The warm air was chasing away the cold from her wet sweater. A rather large razor edge was pulled down taught sections of hair around her face and her large eyes watched it twist and turn an inch from her skin. The blow dryer once again and then the cape was pulled off her with flourish. Claire felt the chair drop slowly as Joseph turned her toward the mirror.

Claire stared at her reflection with wide eyes that looked bigger and her lips looked more prominent. She pulled herself out of the chair and leaned toward the mirror where she looked at her features an inch from the glass. Her eyes gorged on her amazing hair for five minutes. Where did all this bouncy, straight hair come from, she wondered. Her bangs were cut very long and angled to sweep across her face covering one eye. Holy fucking Christmas, she thought, this was a mad miracle and she was desperate to find out how to style it like this.

“Joseph! I lov…” They were kissing and Joseph held her coat out to her. Guess that’s my cue to leave, she thought. Good thing Geillis had her own car. Claire tossed a folded hundred-dollar bill on the front desk and told the person it was for Joseph. Paid in full or just the first installment, Claire didn’t give a rip. For now, anyway, the cursed hair looked as good as the bouncing bobs that shined on the magazine covers. She raced home to stare at herself and try everything on, twice.

Toppled boxes and bags were strewn across Claire’s studio floor. She had pulled her makeup organizer out and was sitting on the floor in full light an inch from the mirror. Every ten minutes or so she ran to the bathroom to wash her face and start over. The laptop glowed next to her and she typed Eva Mendes into Google and looked closely at her favorite eyes in Hollywood. She was determined to learn, and scrubbed her face three more times, blinking back stinging tears to answer her ringing cell phone.

“Claire, my dahling, a pipe ruptured in the kitchen and the restaurant is closed until next week. Three days they tell me so go visit relatives and rest, aibnatu.” Claire smiled at the Arabic daughter reference and jumped back in front of the mirror. She carefully plucked at her eyebrows using Eva Mendes as a reference again. She went painstakingly slow to avoid a catastrophic patch pulled out by accident. An hour later she moved her eyeballs from one brow to the other, happy with the arc.

Claire was nervous about wearing her new clothes and hair in public. She still felt like she was playing dress-up and did not want to embarrass herself. Geillis was still not answering her cell and Claire was getting bored. She pulled her new coat on and looked at all sides in the mirror. What’s the worse that can happen? Somebody points at my ridiculous clothes behind my back? No biggie. She reached for her purse and left.

Jamie would be long gone at this hour, so she decided to check out the bookstore in his absence and take a look at the side rooms used for kid stories and adult book club meetings. It was a perfect place to find her confidence. Brightly lit, she would know if people were laughing at her. She parked and exhaled a billowing cloud of steam in the twenty-degree interior of her car.

There were two large carousel doors in the front of the store and stepping into one she looked up at a man on the other side of the glass pushing his way outside and staring at her. Claire looked at the floor convinced the man had dropped something. Looking up she realized she missed her opportunity to exit into the store and had to go around again. I am sure no one saw that she decided.

The store was gigantic, and Claire felt her heart race as she read the section names placed high on the shelves to lead people to what they sought. Claire knew where Jamie’s office was from the one time she was here and made sure it was dark before venturing in. She was free to explore the store unnoticed and felt a rush of excitement to see as much as possible.

Jamie pretended to eat as he pushed the peas and carrots around his plate making small talk with Jenny and his best friend Ian. He was lost in his daydreams of spinning veils and exotic eyes, hoping Jenny would not ask him about it. Strangely, Jenny and Ian were getting on like two peas in a pod and hardly noticed him. Once supper was cleaned up, he slipped away and headed for the restaurant and the dancer who would not leave his head.

The closer he got the faster he drove until he looked up at a dark building and empty parking lot. He circled around and read the note about the closure due to plumbing. Christ, he would surely implode waiting until next week to see her. He rolled out of the parking lot heading for the bookstore. Dropping in on the night manager and his staff could pay dividends in future months. Maybe the night wasn’t a total bomb after all.

Once inside the store Jamie kept close to the shelves where he could observe the staff, happy and helpful, going from music to video games and back to books, assisting customers. It made him content to see such productive employees looking for people to help. He continued to stroll through the store, watching for problems, or lazy staff running out the clock. He watched his newest hire helping a petite brunette in the classics section. She moved away and Jamie continued his lazy spying as he walked through the store. He smiled thinking he should get back to Ian before Jenny chewed his ears off with her continuous conversation. He walked along the row of rooms and offices noticing the brunette sitting inside a room with comfortable couches and chairs. The walls were glass so he could watch her as he walked. He felt something vaguely familiar about her but realized her glorious ass and legs would have been cataloged in his head, like every other pretty girl in Edinburgh.

Jamie leaned against the door to open it enough to speak to her.

“Excuse me, lass. This room is dedicated to the book clubs. There are couches scattered throughout the store if ye like to read a bit.”

“Book clubs, that sounds interesting. Who leads the club if I might ask?”

“Claire Beauchamp is in charge of our community programs.”

“Is she any good?”

“Oh yea, quite good.”

Jamie was trying to back out of a conversation he never wanted in the first place. When long legs were uncurled from under the woman, he was momentarily halted so he could watch skin tight jeans and boots. He could be running down the street with his hair on fire, but he would stop to watch gorgeous legs swing out of a car. Being temporarily diverted by the anatomy of the opposite sex was part of being a man he always thought.

“I am very close to Claire Beauchamp actually.”

The woman passed through the door under Jamie’s arm and then turned to look at him in the light of the store. Jamie stared at her momentarily confused.

“It’s me, Mister Fraser, Claire Beauchamp,” she said smiling. “I didn’t have to work tonight and got bored, so I came by to see the rest of the store. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What have ye done to yerself?”

“Oh, I…I…” Claire’s hand reached up and touched her shoulder-length hair and looked nervously for an escape.”

Oh my God lass, he thought, I meant that in a good way. Ye have eyes, he thought, surely ye can see what’s right in front of your face.

He slowed himself down and looked at her like he was appraising a beautiful work of art for sale.

“Ye know Sassenach, I’ve seen my share of makeovers, but none like this. He circled around her showing his appreciation. Claire’s cheeks blushed at his scrutiny, her confidence soared and she giggled at his exaggerated gawking.”

“It was nice to see you, Mister Fraser, I have to get home, goodnight.”

“Ah, two things Sassenach, how do I contact ye? For the community programs, I mean.”

Claire pulled the phone from his hand and punched in her number hearing the muffled ring in her purse. She looked up at him, “and the other thing?”

Jamie was still staring at her trying to see all the changes. “Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?”

“Aye, C’mon, I’ll walk ye to yer car.”

They walked together to the other side of the store. Jamie waved at a few people but otherwise looked at Claire. There was something unsettling about the changes in her. It was making him feel weird, happy, confused and sad all at the same time. Aside from her momentary anxiety when he said something stupid, she was like a new woman and reminded him of someone, but who?

Jamie failed to rally his senses before she dropped into her car. He turned to walk back to the store and looked when she called his name.

“What is happening on Wednesday?”

“Ye, here, and a bunch of wee ones, aye?”

“I will see you then Mister Fraser.”

A fortuitous meeting he thought, looking at her number on his phone. I’ll get the reading programs up and running before I leave for Glasgow.

Jamie did not spend much time at a new store. Once it was opened and running smoothly, he was off to build another one.

A new store was a complex project that easily lost money from delays, inept contractors, expensive labor, and a million other factors. Jamie had commercial construction experience and hired on, nine years ago, as an assistant project manager. The job took him to cities all over Europe and America. He was home for holidays and vacations, otherwise, he was gone.

Halfway through his first year as assistant project manager, he received a formal invitation to a meeting of the full board the following month. The next day he received a phone call from the secretary of one of the members and later a large envelope was hand-delivered to him with plane tickets and a cashier’s check for one thousand dollars.

Jamie walked off the plane after landing in Germany and felt a small hand attached to an arm that linked through his. A pretty woman in business attire pulled him into a limo and handed him an apple martini while giving instructions to the driver in German. The woman sat close beside him and peeled off her jacket as Jamie gorged himself on her jutting chest and fat red lips. She dragged him through men’s clothing stores where a lucky few could afford to shop until his interview suit was complete.

The woman watched him get in and out of his clothes at least a dozen times during the afternoon and when it was clear they were done she looked at her watch and then pushed him into a seat in the dressing room while pulling her blouse off. She was completely naked bouncing on Jamie’s lap and all he could do is hang on. His twenty years on earth had not prepared him for this thrilling experience, nor had the many dropped panties delivered him to the promised land quite like she did.

One month later, haircut and manicured hands, wearing a tailored suit and shiny shoes, Jamie met the members of the board for the first time. They had vetted Jamie so thoroughly they knew his test results in Chemistry from his sophomore year in high school. Millions of dollars would be gambled on his ability in the next ten years and the board gave him no quarter as they questioned his course of action in one impossible scenario after another.

After three hours they all broke for lunch and vaporized except for one man. Clearly the youngest of the board members, he poured the world’s best whisky into a cut crystal glass and handed it to Jamie.

“You are doing remarkably well Mister Fraser. You can relax because you’re already hired. Now comes the negotiation for salary and benefits. I cannot be seen coaching you so listen carefully, “tell them you want ten years as project manager followed by first right of refusal for every position that opens in the next grade up, forever. It will guarantee a life of promotions until you get dizzy from a fear of heights.” He poured Jamie another shot of the whisky he would remember for the rest of his life.

“Good luck friend.” In seconds, Jamie was alone feeling his bravery assert itself. What the hell, he thought, friend or foe, he had a good feeling about the man. Jamie drained his glass and when the board reconvened, he gambled his career on the advice of a total stranger.

Steal gray eyes regarded Jamie under thick white eyebrows. Thin lips pressed together in a straight line across his deeply lined face. You could hear a pin drop in that room and Jamie wondered if the members could hear his ramming heart. He remembered his boss working seventy or more hours per week, missing the birth and growth of his kids, saying he had to make money while the opportunity lasted. Complaining his six-figure income would end after ten years and he would settle into managing whatever store they gave him, at a lower salary, for the rest of his career.

When they offered the same package to Jamie, he stood at the end of the conference table with all eyes waiting for him to pledge his extraordinary life to corporate slave labor. He dropped his head for a minute of quiet before he threw the dice.

“My mother taught me to always know where I want to be, so my feet know which way to go.” He looked up at the man on the other end of the table. “I have a braw picture of my life before my dyin day,” he gave them a half-smile, “and I willna get there with yer offer. I’m sorry gentlemen, I respectfully decline.”

Jamie sat down, shaking from his feet to the crown of his head, silently invoking the love of his parents and the power of Lallybroch to carry him through the rest of the meeting.

The white eyebrows asked Jamie to step out just as the door opened and the sexy secretary found his eyes, smiling her intent. She led him to a hallway and pushed him into a couch, then turned her attention to a flask and a shot glass pulled out of her briefcase. Jamie was so tired. He stared at the shot glass anticipating the lovely feeling it would bring. The woman handed it to him and told him to toss it back. He did.

The phone in the woman’s purse vibrated and she stood, bending over to press her tongue into Jamie’s mouth as she kissed him.

“Good luck” she whispered into his ear and disappeared around the corner seconds before the conference room door opened.

Eight board members filed past Jamie, smiling and shaking his hand. White eyebrows was the last in line and told Jamie to expect an offer in the next two days. It would be hand-delivered and it would rock his world.

He was feeling better, almost like superman as he walked to the exit of the building. Hearing his name, he turned around as the young board member caught up to him.

“Last bit of advice Jamie. In eleven years you will wonder what gift to send me as thanks for how I helped you today.” He pressed the bottle of whiskey into his hand. “I want a case of this.” He smiled with his perfect teeth, “It’s my favorite.”

Jamie watched Claire drive out of the parking lot and returned to the store. Jumping stairs two at a time to his office he left the lights off and drifted to sleep on his couch. Sometime in the dead of night, when unanswered questions are brought to the light, Jamie dreamed.

The dancer was twirling across the room straight toward him. He watched her like a statue, made of concrete and powerless to move. She stopped spinning six inches from him. She spoke rapid Arabic and he could only watch her mouth until she said “Jamie.”

His eyes snapped to her eyes. She spoke to him! Finally! She was pointing to something and his eyes followed the line she pointed to. He saw, in the distance, the room in his store where he found Claire. She sat on the floor with wee ones sitting all around her as she read to them.

The dancer was pointing furiously at Claire, ”love her,” said in her broken English.

Jamie looked back to the dancer. There was love in his eyes, he could feel it. “I love you, I must be with you.”

The dancer took Jamie’s hand and led him across the floor approaching the dressing room. Before she entered the room, she turned around and Jamie saw she was sobbing and then she looked at Claire.

“Please.” Said through her tears. Jamie felt his mind snap having her so close to him. He looked around at the empty restaurant. They were alone and he would have his way with her.

“Jesus!” Jamie yelled in his sleep and his eyes flew open. “Ah diah!” His office was pitch black and the store was empty. He felt the huge erection that pulsed between his legs, his balls were pulled up tight to his body and stung like they were being poked by a live wire. He was literally seconds from ejaculation. All he had to do is close his eyes and see her kneel in front of him and his pain would turn to pleasure. Jamie was panting and conflicted, crazy angry at letting himself go back to her, even in his head.

“Leave me alone ye cunt!” He was seething mad just wanting a way out of this nightmare. “I dinna bide with rape but if it would rid yer presence in my head, I would break yer bones with my brutality.”

Jamie grabbed his coat and ran for his car feeling completely out of control. The speedometer pushed into the criminal zone as he sped through Edinburgh. Where is a cop when ye need one, he wondered? He had to be punished for thinking he could harm another person, especially a woman. A night in jail would be helpful, jar him back to reality before his well-constructed life crumbled around him. He raked a hand through his hair then gripped the steering wheel, hating the shaking that vibrated his fingers like he was as weak as a bairn.

Jenny couldn’t see him this way, just in case she was awake, so he drove the back roads until his tank was almost empty.

Being unsuccessful at getting arrested and nearly running his gas tank dry, Jamie turned into the Lallybroch driveway and sat in the quiet of his truck. Dawn was breaking across the fields and he saw himself running through the corn stalks as a lad with a single concern to get home before he was late for supper. He desperately wished he could go back in time, before his mistakes, and try again to be the man his parents raised.

He took a deep breath and walked to the front door noticing Ian’s car was still where he left it. Jamie wondered if he was sacked out on the couch and felt the sting of guilt for leaving like he did. Setting the alarm for two hours he dropped into bed. Sleep came quickly as she wrapped her cadaverous long fingers around his defenseless brain.

[timelock97]

Game Changer

Chapter Seven: Meet & Greet

Word Count: 6005

Warnings: Language

__________________________________________

“Noooo,” I whine, hiding further under the covers. “I don’t wanna get up yet, my head hurts.”

“I told you not to drink the wine,” Leon laughs as he moves about the room.

“Look,” I state, sticking my arm out from under the covers to attempt to point at him. “It’s the best damn wine I have had ever, and I didn’t get drunk. I just had enough to be tipsy, mister.” He hums and before I can ask, he rips the blankets out of my hand and to the foot of the bed. “Nooooooo-”

“Pain killers,” he states, handing me two pills and a glass of water. “I have food in the kitchen, then we need to do last minute packing so we can head.”

I pout, but take the offered pills. After swallowing them down I hand the glass back. “Kiss?”

Lee rolls his eyes before pressing a swift kiss to my lips before helping me stand and pushing me toward the door. “Go eat, do you need to shower?”

I shake my head as I walk, grabbing a pair of his sweats to pull on before leaving the room to eat. I smile at the empty apartment as I sit down and eat the eggs and sausage on my plate, all the sudden over thinking, “Lee?”

“Yeah,” he calls back.

“Where do the eggs and sausage come from?”

There is a pause, and footsteps up the hallway. “They ship it from the mainland.” He suddenly stops in the hallway leaning on the wall, with his eyebrows raised in amusement, “It’s not Pokemon if you are wondering.”

“That was my worry-”

“Why would you-”

“Well we eat chicken and cow so I just had to ask-”

Leon shakes his head, moving across the room so he is standing at my side and pulls me so my head is against his chest. “My love, I think you need to just go with the flow-”

“But I have to know.” I whisper, making him chuckle before he kisses my forehead.

Leon pulls the plate closer, “Eat, then we have to finish packing.”

“When did you become the parent?” I tease, taking a bite and checking my phone.

“When you don’t move fast enough, besides, Hop texted me like six times this morning asking when we were coming down so I want to get there sooner rather than later.”

“Fair,” I mutter as I spoon another mouthful into my mouth. I hum as I check through my social media feeds while I finish breakfast. I wash my dish before I move about the apartment and pick up a few things that escaped my backpack to take back to the bedroom. Leon is standing at his closet pulling out a few sweaters and jeans that he tosses toward the bed. “Want me to fold those?” I ask, watching as he shakes his head.

“No, just pack your things, I don’t have much left to pack.” He mutters while grabbing two more things before returning to his suitcase. I notice him eyeball my large suitcase, “I never asked, but what’s in there?”

“Christmas presents,” I laugh, “If I can pack everything in my normal suitcase and my backpack I will mail that back home.”

He nods, moving to lift it and take it closer to the door. “What do you have left to pack?”

I point at my stuff, “I packed while you were doing ‘champion duties’ minus my bathroom stuff, so just that.”

He nods, “Can you get that and then we can take a taxi to the train station?”

I nod and grab my stuff, brushing my teeth and hair first. I waltz back into the room and unzip my suitcase and place them inside. “Want me to call the taxi service?”

Leon rubs his head, “Rotom?” The phone lifts from his pocket and comes to his face, “Taxi service, have them come in fifteen minutes to take us to Wyndon train station.”

I hear a small, 'Done, Corviknight tax number 24 will be here in fifteen minutes.’

“Guess not,” I mutter softly.

Leon sighs, moving to lean down and kiss my lips firmly. When he pulls away he mutters a soft, “Sorry, just, I am ready to be home.” He kisses my cheek before taking my hand, “Can you help me make sure I have everything?”

I nod and stand calling out different items. He quickly becomes aware that he hadn’t packed any underwear or socks. “Leon!” I laugh as I grab them and place them in his suitcase.

“Over focused, sorry, love.”

“Now I think you have everything,” I giggle. His Rotom buzzes beside us, 'taxi has arrived.’ I giggle and walk over to the door, “I’ll start taking this down.”

“I just have to grab my bathroom bag then we can head.” He calls as I shift my backpack over my shoulders and grab my bags.

I walk to the door and slip out, shutting it firmy behind me and calling for the elevator. It gets there before Leon comes out so I just take it down. I smile at the taxi driver as I exit the building, he jogs over to grab one of my bags. “Thank you, I thought I took too much out at once,” I giggle.

“No problem, love.” He places the bags in the back, “Just you?”

“No, my boyfriend will be out in a moment, getting some last minute stuff.”

He almost pouts, “He shouldn’t keep a gorgeous woman like you waiting-”

“I didn’t, she just offered to take some of our luggage out while I made sure we had everything.” Leon speaks, making the taxi driver straighten up.

“Let me grab that for you, Champion.” He reaches for the bag and Leon lets him take it without response.

Leon places a hand on my waist and opens the taxi door for me. I slip inside as Leon crawls in beside me and slams the door a little harder than needed.

I place a hand on his thigh, making him look at me in curiosity, “I’m yours, remember?” I whisper, making him smile softly.

“I love you,” he whispers back as the taxi lifts into the air.

“I love you more.” I smile as I lean my head onto his shoulder. When we land, Lee opens the door and helps me out before walking to the back and grabbing our bags. The driver gets out and offers to help but Leon waves him off. The two of us grab our things and Leon pays him before we enter the train station. Lee gets our tickets settled, the man behind the desk taking our bigger bags so we can settle and wait in the lobby until the train arrives. I turn my head and run my fingers through Leon’s wavy hair.

“You should show me how to style my hair.” He mutters softly, his hand resting on my thigh.

“You think I can do more than throw my hair up into a ponytail? You would be incorrect. No sisters, therefore, never experimented with styling.”

“You braided my hair-”

“Doesn’t mean I can do it on myself-”

“Big sad,” he mutters into my skin, making me giggle.

When the train arrives, the two of us hop on and settle in for a long ride. I fall asleep, not that Lee is surprised with my track record. When we get closer he shakes me awake so I can look out the window. When we pull into Wedgehurst, I smile. The two of us maneuver around everyone to get our luggage and head outside into the cool air.

“Lee!” A voice carries through the air, and after a minute I see Hop running toward us and throwing himself into Lee’s arms. “Finally, I thought you and (Y/N) would be here hours ago!”

Leon laughs as he sets Hop down, Hop spinning in his spot to tackle me in a hug. “Well we had to pack and get here so it took a little longer.”

“Fair,” Hop chuckles, hugging me tighter, “And it’s so nice to actually see you in person. We are going to have so much fun, I have to show you around the whole area-” Hop starts to ramble, and loses me pretty quickly, which causes me to giggle.

“How about we do that after we get settled back at home. I’d love for you to help show me around.” I say, pushing his hair back.

“I can do that!” He cheers, unravelling himself from me before grabbing Lee’s suitcase while Lee carries my large suitcase. “What’s in the big suitcase?”

“Presents,” Lee laughs watching as his brother’s eyes go wide.

“But they are from me so you have to wait, I need to finish wrapping them.”

“I can help if they aren’t mine!” Hop offers making me smile.

“Sounds like a plan, buddy,” I smile, ruffling his hair.

After settling inside, and warming up, I take some time upstairs in Leon’s childhood room wrapping presents with Hop, after wrapping his of course. The two of us sit cross-legged on the floor, wrapping paper, ribbons, and tape scattered around us.

“Lee wants to take you to the research lab so he can introduce you to Sonia and her aunt.”

“Her aunt? I know her Gran is the professor but who is her aunt?”

“Lee didn’t tell you?” I shake my head, prompting him to roll his eyes, “She runs a therapy center in Monostoke, they have speech, occupational, and physical therapy there and Lee mentioned you were looking for an internship and she wanted to meet you. She also wants to show you the clinic.”

“Oh so Lee is trying to make sure that I move to Galar after I graduate then?” I tease, making Hop laugh.

“He talks about you moving here all the time, buying a house, raising a family, the whole lot.” Hop smiles, he lets out a small content sigh, “I haven’t seen my brother this happy since he won the championships for the first time, and that is something.”

I blush softly, “He really is something else isn’t he.”

“He really is.” Hop smiles widely, “Do you have any siblings?”

I smile, bumping his shoulder. “A little brother, his name is Aiden and he is about your age. He was worried about me moving here, but I know Galar has a better paid time off system so I know I will be able to go and visit.”

“I hope you let him come at some point so I can meet him, I’ll show him all the ropes of being a great trainer.” Hop smiles as he tapes the last edge to Leon’s gift, “He is going to love this though, I hope you know.”

“Oh, he better, I spent so much time perfecting it,” I tease, giggling at the end. A knock on the door breaks the little moment, “Who is it?”

“Your loving boyfriend would like to come in and collect his girlfriend.” Lee calls through the door.

“She is busy at the moment!” I call back, taping the last of the gifts. I double check with Hop, confirming that we indeed finished. “Okay, now she’s not busy!”

Leon chuckles behind the door and opens it slowly, smiling at Hop and I sitting on his floor. He leans on the door frame, his phone floating by his head to snap a picture of Hop and I sitting on the floor. “Well, I was hoping I could steal you away from Hop to take you to the lab to talk with Sonia.”

I nod, smiling as I stand and brush off my pants. “Sure, let’s head.”

Lee and I walk hand in hand as we follow the path back into Wedgehurst. I swing our arms as we walk, making Leon laugh softly beside me. He smiles at me, lifting his hand and kisses the skin of mine. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too.”

When we arrive at the lab, the two of us open the door and slip inside the warm building. In front of me are three women of varying ages. The youngest looks over at us and squeals when she sees us. “You’re here!”

“You never get this excited when it’s just me, Sonia.” Lee teases, being met with a scoff as Sonia pulls me into a tight hug.

“Whatever, Lee. I just want to hug your girlfriend.” She teases as I throw an arm around her as well. “God, look at you! You’re so pretty!”

“I’m pretty? You’re pretty!” I giggle as I hold her at arm’s length. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“Ditto,” she giggles. She claps her hands before pulling me into the building further, “Let me introduce you to my Gran and my Aunt.” Leon tags along behind me as we move forward. Sonia smiles excitedly as she stops in front of the women. “Gran, Aunt Samantha, this is (Y/F/N), Leon’s girlfriend. (Y/N), this is my Gran, Professor Magnolia, and my aunt Samantha who owns a therapy clinic in Monostoke.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I state.

Professor Magnolia reaches out and shakes my hand sweetly, “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N). We have heard a lot about you from our dear Champion.”

Samantha smiles as she walks over, “And I heard from Sonia that you are graduating in the spring and are looking for a place to intern. Is that true?”

I nod while shaking her hand, “It is, but I have to talk to my professor before I can make any promises.”

“Well, I hope you can do it soon, I would love you to be a part of our team.” She smiles, “Actually, you should come to the clinic and see if you even like it first, two days from now?”

I go wide eyed and look at Leon, who nods as he chuckles. “I guess that would work!”

“I can go with you,” Sonia offers, wrapping an arm around my own and smiling at me, “I have to run errands in Monostoke so it’ll all work out.”

“Wonderful! Well, I have to head back actually, I have to meet with a patient in an hour so I need to take the train. See you all later!” Samantha calls, walking out the door after grabbing her coat.

Once she is out the door Sonia claps her hands, “Oh, (Y/N), I have your Rotom and phone ready so you can make calls from here more easily.” She grabs my hand and drags me over to a table as her Gran goes to talk to Leon. She opens a box to reveal a navy blue phone that is already in a case. She hands me a pokeball, “This gal is your Rotom, she will power your phone but she can only be used in Pokemon regions. So when you go home you can either pop by here and I’ll take care of her or Leon can.”

I open the poke ball and the Rotom comes flying out, zipping around my head before stopping a few inches from my face. “Hello there, it’s nice to meet you.” It buzzes before noticing the phone in my hand. It immediately zips into the phone, bringing it to life. The phone now circles around my head before stopping in front of me, showing me the pokedex.

“Oh, I also set up a pokedex for you, Lee gave me the list of Pokemon you knew so I went through and fixed those.”

“Fabulous,” I mutter as I swipe through. Sonia takes the time to explain more of the phone, and helps me to transfer my contacts from my original phone. Only when Lee places a hand on my shoulder do I realize how long we had been there.

“Mum texted and said food was ready, let’s head home, huh love?”

I nod, turning and hugging Sonia before I take Leon’s hand. “I’ll see you soon, m'kay?”

Sonia nods, “See you soon!”

~

I pull my sleep shirt, which is one of Leon’s shirts, over my head and replace it with a dressy shirt. I was going with Sonia to go see her aunt’s clinic today. She had offered to do an internship for half the summer, the latter half, doing some in-clinic and home care treatments of all ages. I liked the idea, and in turn emailed one of my professor’s who coordinated these events to give her the news. All she needed to do now was talk with Samantha about it further.

I look in the mirror that Leon had in the room as there was a knock on the door. “I’m decent,” I call as I pull my hair up into a ponytail and pin back most of the left over hair minus a few decent curls.

Leon steps in and stands behind me before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into him. “You ready for today?”

I let out a content hum before nodding. “Yeah, she is going to take me to two appointments while Sonia does some errands to see if I like it. We are going to head over to Turrfield for one outside the clinic.”

Leon nods, and he gives me one last firm squeeze before setting me free. I turn and grab my socks to slip on when I notice him grab a belt from off his footboard. He motions me to stand before slipping the belt through the loops of my pants.

“Lee? I really didn’t need a belt, these pants are tight enough.”

He nods but still clips the belt once he had it toward the front. “I know, but I know you don’t have pockets with these pants either.” He states, adding a pokeball closest to the second loop and on the opposite side attaches my new Rotom phone to a harness.

“Who did you give me and why? Lee, I’m going to be with Sonia the whole time, you don’t have to worry-”

“I always worry, and I know Sonia is an experienced trainer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.” He mutters, making sure everything is attached and won’t fall off. “Besides, I want you to be safe. You have Haxorus since she likes you so much, and I have updated your phone and Rotom is all ready to go.” He places his hands to my cheeks, forcing me to look up at him. “I’m just a phone call away if you need me. I’d tag along with you but Milo and Raihan are coming this way to discuss some stuff, so I have to stay here.”

I move forward and rub my nose against his, before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I am going to be fine, actually I am really excited for this trip. Try not to worry about me too much while I am gone, okay?”

“I will try,” he sighs, gently pulling away to grab my jacket. He opens it to help me shrug into it, then the two of us head down the stairs.

Sonia is standing in the kitchen with two travel mugs in hand while her Yamper sits at her feet. She turns to us and smiles widely, “What took you so long? We are gonna miss our train!”

“Train leaves in twenty minutes and it takes four to walk there from here, relax.” Hop mutters with a mouth full of cereal.

Sonia rolls her eyes as I grab my boots and slip them on. “Either way, we should head pretty soon.”

“I’m good to head now, Sonia.” I smile, letting out a laugh as Leon wraps a scarf around my neck and kisses my cheek. “I love you, have a good day, yeah?

"I’ll try-”

“You are so love sick, I think (Y/N) used charm on you.”

“Can’t deny that,” Leon teases with a wink, making me roll my eyes.

I give the rest of the family a wave goodbye before Sonia and I slip out the door and head to the train station. She talks about some things I should expect, as well as that most of the people will ask where I am from. “So should I just tell them I’m the Champion’s girlfriend,” I tease making her laugh and shake her head.

“I’d say probably not. Although I am sure you will be talked about more in the upcoming months.” She laughs, stretching softly.

“Next stop, Monostoke station!” The speaker blares, making her and I scramble to collect our things and settle in our seats. I tell Sonia about anything she wants to know: my family, school, Buster, and most importantly the real story about how Leon and I met. By the time we reach the station, I know that Sonia and I will be life-long friends.

Sonia grabs my wrist as we weave our way through the crowd. Once outside, Sonia lets go so we can walk side by side, little Yamper bouncing around in between our feet. She directs me over to the lifts, warning me to hold on as it moves up and to the side to take us to the lower level to the clinic.

I smile at the small building and step inside, waving at Sonia as she moves to head off somewhere else.

“(Y/N)! It’s good to see you! I have my next client coming in soon, why don’t you go talk with Rachel and sign some paperwork, okay?”

“Gotcha!” I call as I get shooed to the back office, Rachel, who is the receptionist, hands me some papers before sitting across from me explaining what each piece of paperwork was for. It doesn’t take me long to finish before I am swept into an appointment and starting to work alongside Samantha. Heart full.

“I really think you’ll fit in here,” Samantha boasts as we walk to Turrfield. “Seriously, you have the personality, you are easy to talk to, and once you know the area I feel like you will have no problem.”

“I’m really glad you think that,” I giggle, shifting the bag she had me carry to the other arm. “Do you usually walk to the appointments or ride a bike?”

“Normally I bike ride, but I didn’t have an extra so we are just gonna walk. Either way I have to worry about people who want to battle, so I usually have my 'on the job’ face on so no one bothers me.”

I nod in understanding, “Do I just tell them that 'I can’t battle’ if that happens to me in the future?”

She nods as she slows down, pointing out the house we were headed to. “Yeah, most people understand though, so there aren’t any hard feelings. If you do find someone who won’t leave it be you can always just ignore them.” She states as we come closer to the house. Samantha turns toward me with a smile, “Okay, now that we are here, let’s talk about what we are going to do.”

When Samantha and I return to the clinic, Sonia is already waiting. She smiles widely, waving at us, “I am starving. I’m so glad you both are back, let’s head over to the diner and grab a late lunch then (Y/N) and I can head back to the station.”

“Food!” I call making them both laugh.

“Alright, let’s go ladies!”

After eating and spending some time together, Sonia and I head back to Monostoke station, only to find out that the train hadn’t come from the Wild Area station due to Wooloo crossing.

“Okay, so we either have to walk through the Wild Area to that station or we can wait til they pass but that could be hours from now.” Sonia sighs, sitting next to me.

“I wouldn’t mind walking through the Wild Area, it can’t take us too long to walk there.” I sigh, standing.

“To the Wild Area it is.” She smiles, standing with me and waving to the man selling train tickets. She and I wander through town until we make it to the entrance.

“Holy shit that’s a lot of stairs,” I whisper, making her giggle.

“Yeah, it’s intense, but it’s the only way down. C'mon let’s go!” She calls as she starts down the steps.

“As long as I don’t have to walk up them, I will be happy.” I laugh, following her down. Once we make it to the bottom I let out a squeal of pure excitement. “Look at all the Pokemon!”

“You’re like a new trainer, it’s adorable.” Sonia laughs as we begin walking, avoiding the area where ghost Pokemon lurk.

“Well, this is probably the most I have seens since getting here so excuse me.”

The two of us just walk and talk until we get closer to the station. I laugh at something she says, until I see her face fall into horror, “Look out!” She yells, shoving me to the side as a boulder lands between us. But it’s not a boulder; no, it’s an Onix’s tail. “Move! Get up the hill-” she’s cut off as the Onix moves its attention from her to me, and my eyes go wide as I scramble to stand and run to the station. It roars out, swiping its tail at me which I barely dodge, tumbling to the ground.

I move to grab the pokeball on my hip, only to find it missing. “I lost Haxorus!” I cry, moving to try and stand again, “Sonia!”

Onix moves again, but before a move can be made Onix groans moving to the right. My eyes land on a Leafeon, tail raised in the air. The leaf on its head glows as leaves float around it before flying toward the Onix which cause it to back up and groan again.

A hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me to my feet, “Run! The little lady told you to run, go!” The guy yells and pushes me toward the station.

I scream as Onix’s tail lands in front of me, knocking me to the side again, and I tuck myself small. I hear Onix groan again, and I lift my head to see Leafeon standing in front of me in a defencive position. “Leafeon! Magical leaf!” I call out, watching as she tucks her head, the leaf on her head glowing as glowing leaves surround it and shoot at the Onix. It groans again retreats into the ground under it. I turn to see Sonia, she’s a bit scraped up, but nothing horrible, and the guy who had shoved me back toward the building is sitting on his bottom, clutching the side of his head. “Shit,” I hiss as I scramble to stand and run over to him, dropping to my knees as I gently grab his hand. “Let me look, fuck this is all my fault-”

“It’s not; that Onix has been causing trouble for trainers more and more lately. Too high a level for new trainers so we here have been trying to keep it at bay until someone can beat and catch it.” He winces as I check his head.

“Here, I have a first aid kit in my bag.” I whisper, shifting it off my back and setting it down next to me.

“Your Pokemon did a good job on that Onix,” he mutters as I gently dab at his wound.

“It’s nothing too deep so you shouldn’t need stitches,” I mutter, suddenly realizing what he said. “I don’t have a Pokemon, my boyfriend gave me his Haxorus which I need to look for,” I mutter softly as I grab a patch from the bag and tape it down. “You’ll need to check and clean that.” I say before standing, offering him a hand.

He takes it, pulling himself up and I make sure he is steady before letting go. “Thank you, again. I can help you look for your pokeball as a better thanks-”

“No need,” Sonia calls, and when I turn I let out a sigh of relief seeing that she had a pokeball in hand. “I think it popped off the belt in the squabble. If that’s Lee’s old belt then he should have remembered that it wasn’t very good at holding onto pokeballs in some situations, including battles that he had to move a lot in.” She shakes her head as she hands it over to me and I hold it close to my chest.

“I would have felt awful if I lost her,” I mutter, clipping it back to my hip before Sonia gasps. I go to turn and look until I feel something brush against my leg. I look down and find the Leafeon leaning against me, she lets out a small bark before moving so she is in front of me. I reach down cautiously and scratch behind her ear, finding it a little easier to breathe the closer I get, “Thank you for helping us, little one. You did a great job.” She hums, nuzzling into my leg, making me giggle.

“Seems to like you,” the guy mutters. “I’ve seen her around, but never let’s any trainers get close. You must be something special.”

Sonia nudges my shoulder, “We better go, Leon will be worried if we don’t get home soon.”

I nod, “Yeah we should.” Before the three of us get too far, I notice the Leafeon following close behind me. “Sonia, uh, we have a tag along.”

She looks back and laughs, “No, you definitely have a tag along. I would tell you to catch it, but I know you don’t have any balls on you.”

“Here,” the guy mutters, pressing a ball into my hand. It’s completely white minus the ring. “That’s a premier ball, should be able to catch her.”

I nod and take a moment to crouch down in front of the pokemon, “Hey, do- do you want to come with me? I might not be the best trainer but I sure as hell can try.” I press the button with my thumb, enlarging the ball, but before I can say anymore, the leaf on top of Leafeon’s head whips forward and taps the ball and it opens in my hand, light surrounding her and disappearing inside. It doesn’t wriggle once, instead immediately shuts and confirms the capture.

Sonia laughs, “Oh Leon is gonna be upset that he didn’t get to see you capture your first Pokemon.”

I give her a sheepish smile before standing, my Rotom floating into the air and showing me the pokedex. It shows me Leafeon’s entry, and asks if I want to give her a nickname. I settle on Ivy. Once I reattach my phone to my hip, Sonia and I get on the train headed home.

“Leon is going to be playing Chancey trying to take care of you tonight,” Sonia laughs as we exit the station, snow falling around us. “Did the dex tell you what level Leafeon is?”

“I didn’t check,” I laugh, feet crunching in the snow. As I pull out my phone I hear someone yell. “What was that-”

“Cutiefly! Is that you?”

“Oh, that’s Rai.” I laugh, Sonia rolling her eyes beside me. “Holy cow, Leafeon is at level fifty!”

“Seriously!” She leans over as the guys come into view, pushing each other playfully as they get closer. “That’s amazing!”

“How was your trip, ladies?” Leon calls, he is smiling, until he can see the rips in my pants. He starts walking a little faster until he is jogging toward us. “Arceus, what happened? Are you two hurt?”

“We’re fine, Leon-”

“Just got a little roughed up, no big deal-”

Raihan notices the extra pokeball on my hip and gives a wide smile, “I know Lee gave you Haxorus for your trip, but it looks like you brought one home.”

Leon gives him a funny look before looking down. He looks proud, “What did you catch, love?”

I laugh, unclipping the pokeball, “More like she chose me, c'mon out Ivy!” I toss the ball in the air and Leafeon lands in front of me.

Milo smiles, “She’s gorgeous! She looks like she has been well raised, maybe even released?” He crouches down to look at her, but her tail swishes and she moves so that she is behind me. Milo chuckles, “Yeah, she must have been released.”

“I wonder why, she’s really strong.” I mutter, leaning a hand down to brush it by her ear. She immediately bumps my hand with her nose, nuzzling my hand sweetly. “Someone must have trained her up then when she evolved she wasn’t what they wanted. It happens sometimes, it’s always sad, but they usually choose their next trainer.” Milo continues, his hand landing on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. When I look up, he is still smiling, “Think she made a good choice choosing you, (Y/N).”

I smile gently before muttering a soft, “Thank you.”

Raihan yawns, moving around Milo to place a hand on my head playfully. “Well as much as I want to stay and chat, I need to get back to Hammerlocke, and I know farmer boy here needs to head back home too. Christmas is only a day away.” He rubs my head, and I swat his hand away before he pulls me into a hug, kissing my cheek playfully. “Bye guys, bye Lee, bye cutiefly. Have a happy holiday.” He waves at all of us before slipping inside the station.

“I agree, time to head home,” Milo says, a small yawn escaping his parted lips. “Good night guys, have a Happy Christmas.” He waves at everyone before slipping inside.

Sonia says goodbye to us as well, waving as she starts to head back to her Gran’s house.

“You sure you’re okay, Sonia?” I call before Leon grabs my hand.

She nods, “I think you were worse off, I am fine. Lee! Make sure to patch her up, yeah?”

He nods, and gives her a quick wave before turning and lifting me up bridal style to carry home.

“Lee!” I laugh, my arms going around his neck, “I’m fine, just a few cuts and bruises. I am okay.” He doesn’t say anything which worries me. I glance down and notice Leafeon is walking beside us, staying close enough to be seen by me but far enough away to not touch Leon. “Leon-”

“It could have been so much worse, what if you were by yourself-”

“I wasn’t though-”

“But what if, and what about Haxorus, why didn’t you use her?”

I sigh, “The pokeball fell off my belt before I could even throw it,” I look at his chest to avoid his eyes. “We had been so careful, nothing had bothered us, I’m sorry.”

“You should have called-”

“And what, 'Hey Lee don’t freak out but Sonia and I were attacked by an Onix on our way through the wild area to get to the train station cause there were Wooloo on the tracks between that station and the other so it would have taken us hours longer to get home’? No, I didn’t want to worry you, besides nothing awful happened-”

“But it could have-”

“Leon,” I place a hand on his face to make him look at me. “I may have cuts and bruises but I am here, nothing bad happened, and now you can baby me all you want. Uh, play Chancey as Sonia put it.” I see a twitch of a smile on his face, “You know, I had a lot of fun today besides that.”

“Oh did you?” He teases, bumping the gate with his hip to let himself back into his yard.

“Mhm,” I giggle, leaning into him.

“Well, you can tell me all about it while I patch you up, okay?” I groan, making him chuckle, “You said I get to play Chancey, and I am gonna take it.”

__________________________________________

A/N: Loooooong ass chapter for today! Hope you all enjoyed!

Masterlist

[curious-minx]

Heat Lamp vol. [i]

A how-to guide on harnessing the very best light for your under-lit overly priced hovel! In Style!

“Lighting is everything, you goon!” spits Magda Marlene, and, of course, she’s absolutely correct.

“Don’t call me a goon, Magda! I’m trying my best. Have you ever tried shopping around for the best possible lights? Of course not. The challenge of conceiving of wattage and luminosity in the abstract blue light tech etching our basic human retinas will never compete with the likes of you. “ Elroy wipes away the trail of verbiage slipping down his prominent jawline. He attempts to grab at Magda to make her take him seriously, but it was impossible, because after all she is enshrouded in light. She is the kind of bruising overwhelming beauty that is perpetually well lit. Magda has endured a panorama of over stuffed suits of testosterone tossing off a clip of one-liners about her “lighting up a room,” because she had already brightened her entire surrounding vicinity. Light seeping out as far as several stories above and below whatever apartment is lucky enough to grace her presence. You had to alert your local neighboring Vampire’s of someone like Magda coming around. To forget would be akin to a hate crime. 

“I do take pity on you sallow beef man. You are close, so close I can nearly taste your success, but this lack of suitable lighting! This will  be your ruin. That’s what all the Entertainment and Arts are all about-,”

“Yes, the lighting! The wonderful bright, but not too bright lighting. I know Magda. Ugh! I much prefer if we go back to when you would stick to sending me laymen articles on the anatomy of human eyeballs and the latest breakthroughs in light-based therapy, but now all I hear is your dogmatic barking.” 

“You sure do talk a lot for a layman. Why did you want to touch me? Don’t tell me you’re starved for human contact!” 

“Of course not! Don’t be foolish! You know I’m not attracted to you. It’s the only reason why you even bother gracing me with your infernal light. Why won’t you sell some of your light source already?”

“Oh no no no, not this this again. I will have no further discussion about the selling off of my light.” 

“You won’t share your light, you won’t sell your light, but all I ever hear you go on and on about is the importance of light! Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?” Elroy tries sizing Magda up and all around with his big soulful hazel  brown dopey puppy dog eyes. 

“What is this, ‘on and on’ slander? That’s a complete and total falsity! I barely even talk to you! You asked me to come over and help you pick out a new light. Yet here you stand insulting me and everything I represent. I knew all men were trash! I really wanted a reciprocal  easy going friendship receptacle. Like the ones you see on flashy American sitcoms, but no! Instead you reek of man boy desperation. You are not Easy Elroy, nor are you sleazy enough to warrant a pass. Good day!” And with that Magda leaves Elroy in his room. A room that is painted a banana baby sick off-scrambled eggs shade of yellow that made Elroy think of himself as a “warmed over Simpson” whenever he looks at himself with his overhead lights on. Magda leaves him behind so that she can go attend a life devoid of preening men devoid of any elevated levels of cognitive stimulus. Magda had a strong feeling deep inside that being eaten out by Elroy would feel either like the confectionary sugar clinging to a beater or a cow pondering the universe with a cud.  Magda has bigger prospects to attend such as the purchasing of a new Ultrasonic Television, a television for people too interesting to own a regular television. Now this is a process more grueling than picking out some sort of pathetic LED lights set out to emphasize poor life choices. 

Magda’s candles burn ferociously for the scented perfume wick of her occasional beaux Hillary. Oh sweet sister Hillary.  Magda flips a dizzy spell as she gets behind the wheel of her space craft. In the driver’s seat she grabs and teases pinching caresses onto her sides, hands running underneath her shirt and imagines Hillary’s hazy visage.  Magda turns on The Quick’s Mondo Deco, the album is lodged into the fourth track already, “Hillary.” The porto-phrenetic ASMR zipper crunch! The perfect symmetry of a song making sense for the right woman in the right space and time. Magda wishes she could be some special somebody’s Kim Fowley. She knew she has the making of a Valkyrie companion. Mostly a bottom, but occasionally there’s a switch…a candy striped hypnosis stick being cradled in Magda’s hand turns her space craft into autopilot. The space craft assumes a sensible soaring speed, sharing the sky with all the other avians and sky ships. Magda lands onto the fetid grassless knoll where she finds the manor of Scent Maven Monique. A west coast equivalent of a Hobbit Hole in the Hills. Except instead of a 5,7” English gentleman it is a 5,7” Black American bohemian scientist woman. Magda lights up one of Monique’s Pixie Stix a jolt of nicotine, THC, estrogen, nootropicals, and most importantly caffeine. Cigarettes that don’t make you smell like cigarettes, that don’t make you smell like anything, but a hint, a wink, a whisper, and a prayer of exotic bubblegum. 

A Vaping Assassin is prowling on her rooftop. Antonia, The Daycrawler, of course. A woman so intimidating in strength and beauty that all law officers around the country worship at her talon toes. Lines of swat teams, cops, and military official personally see fit the they get their asses beaten by Antonia’s hand each and every year at The National Cop Christmas Party. Monique is constantly alienating, offending and inspiring everyone she works with, but they usually only send soft assassins like Soy Hands Flannigan or the Detangler. Magda believes that this must be the opening salvo of a new killer regime. 

“Quit your daydreaming Magda Marlene! Are you really about to let me red rover your special number one gal? I am dropping through the ceiling now! Catch ya later!” Antonia is always narrating her actions to her blind brother Donovan who makes glass sculptures for an assassin’s memento. Some assassins keep locks of hair, some assassins keep emails, some assassins bond and indulge their impotent’s brother pop art. The giant blocky neon green rotary telephone with each notch designed with a mysterious suggestion of a dreary person. A lot of guilt trips about being sent to  mental institutions and the occasional rainbow clamshell birth control pill case. All glass blown by the Daycrawler’s blind and naive brother. Monique doesn’t stand a chance! 

“Oh no,” mouths Magda. She’s going to be vaporized by that tall Nordic pillar of mayhem. Quentin Tarantino might as well be hanging himself up here on Monique’s roof turning himself into the human satellite, beaming this impeding cyclone of beautiful woman on beautiful woman violence for all of his cronies to see. “Not today,” mouths Magda. With a flick of her wrist, bracelets of light begin forming and overlapping. Discs of light coursing up and down Magda’s forearm. Magda then hides her arms underneath her long and flowing cherry blossom trench coat. Magda’s light does not instantly light up the rest of Monique’s abode. Antonia is hiding her frustration and she looks around Monique’s mostly spacious and poorly lit living quarters. Seeing only a completely stainless steel coated mini-kitchen and a chest level table top. No chairs. No other furniture or trace of personality. Magda hopes that this cat and mouse game will grow less cheesy and the Daycrawler will soon leave irate and hungry. 

“Aha! You got me good Light Bright. Of course you knew she wasn’t here and distracted me. For such good work I will personally see to killing you myself. I haven’t murdered anyone in over twelve hours. Do you know how rusty an assassin can get in that time? First, I must take a shower. Surely this lab rat has some sort of hose or bucket and pulley system to wash herself?”Antonia begins sizing up the space, trying to squint a bathroom into existence. 

“I believe her bathroom is right next the front door. You must have accidentally passed in when you were getting yourself worked up into this bloodlust.” Magda suddenly feels completely at ease. Yes, she could easily blind and frankly obliterate this toned and blonde killing machine. Doesn’t matter though, because Magda realizes that she has this whole ordeal in her pocket and it’s only a matter of Antonia getting into that shower. Magda goes to raise her fist in conquest but then meets resistance. Antonia’s silent rope snakes! They are giving Magda the world’s most cold blooded group hug. Magda knows she must submit to the plan. She grimaces feeling the ridges of her teeth and wait to unleash her light show. 

////

Antonia has been in the shower for over and hour and half. Magda is only now starting to bruise because the rope snakes have grown lethargic and weak ever since the water started. The rope snakes are clinging on to Magda out of obligation and lethargy. The water stops and a shrill elongated sigh is heard from the bathroom. Antonia, the Daycrawler, emerges from heavy plump clouds of perfumed steam. Magda thinks she can detect a hint of Ceylon Cinnamon and gun smoke, but you can never tell with Monique and her smells. Antonia is a lot drier than you would expect for someone who has ostensibly been bathing for the past two hours and she is wearing an oversized clumsy kimono with her hair wrapped up in a towel. 

“Alright, where is she?” Antonia asks in a voice that is almost saccharine and faint. 

“She’s clearly not here. Let’s revisit the fact that you were going to behead me as a house warming gift. How about instead you rob me of one of my kidneys? They are oozing with glow-stick fluid, but they never stop glowing! Please don’t kill me!” Magda says fully aware that Antonia is not going to kill, at least not while she’s so fresh out of the shower. 

“That’s what I need to talk to her about. I suddenly no longer have my urge to kill! Not you, you, or anyone else ever again!”says Antonia breathless like she is hearing her voice for the first time.

“I thought you were killing out of profession?”

Antonia crouches down and is almost blushing as she asks, “Why are you still on the floor like that? Can’t you not fry us up some rope snake snacks? Or wait! Are you like me and need the sunlight to fully operate?” Antonia begins opening up every window and even trying to create new windows in Monique’s house to let the light in. 

“Fine! I’ll do it! You made me do it!” Magda unleashes her light that sets off as a retina unfriendly supernova. The light charged specifically around her arms were even still lit up and racing to be shot off as blades of light into the nearest surface. 

“See? That’s wasn’t so bad! Why do you get so…so conservative about using your light whenever you’re around me?”

“I don’t want to end up blinding or hurting anyone.” Magda says still on the ground facing onto Monique’s steel plated sterile floors. 

“Even someone who was moments ago trying to kill your friend and you for the thrill of murder?”

“Your an easy target Daycrawler,” Magda gathers herself back up into a standing stance,” You are exactly the type that would change your mind if given half a chance. I still feel like you could plunge your famous ribbon blade into my personal generator… ” Magda trails off realizing that Antonia is no longer listening to her. She is still running her reformed(?) killer’s hands through her honey flaxen unwieldy tower of hair that only a towering murderess could support. 

“That shampoo it’s, it’s going to help a lot of people. I’m waiting to see the catch. Like with her cancer-free candy cigarettes they’re too good to be true, right?”Antonia takes in another long inhalation of her own hair and takes one lock and flecks her tongue only at the tip of the follicle. The one blank wall inside Monique’s apartment spins around revealing Monique on the other side who steps up and says without missing a beat:

“They’re called Pixie Stix!” Monique fully emerges from her illusion wall hiding the hint of a laboratory.  She lights up a Pixie stick of her own which begins flooding the spartan space. Who needs furniture when you bask in a smell this sweet? Magda lets her guard down and lights up the rest of the space turning the formerly drab and empty hovel into a chic and spacious boutique. “Lighting!” Continues Monique, “With the right lights and an overwhelming pungent odor reveals the path to an enveloping inner peace. No matter how small or unfashionable your home or hovel happens to be there could possibly be an outlet for a chosen few people that the three of us could use to build our own society or something?” Monique turns on music by malodorous mall core cyborg nu metal pop band called Neon Betty Degenerates. Antonia goes over to Monique and gently forces Monique’s bangled and gloved clammy hand into a boisterous hand shake. A Kashmir blossom shaped pin attached to Monique’s vegan leather newsboy cap opens up and contracts. The blossom is spraying out a mist invisible to the human eyes, directed into Antonia’s face. Antonia then immediately releases Monique and she turns away from the gangly scientist, she unravels the towel from her hair and starts sprinting outside of Monique’s house. Antonia begins climbing up the lone ancient hundreds of feet tall redwood tree watching over Monique’s property. Antonia climbs up to the tree in record time, she is nothing but a blur of momentum and rustling branches. Antonia, the Daycrawler, jumps out into the sky with the grace of a flying squirrel leaving her nest, and she’s reached enough height so that she can use the heel of her shoe to write, “I’m sorry! <3 I will work on respecting your personal space” in a cloud-based font. 

Magda turns to Monique who has completely flipped open her furtive laboratory, revealing the glow of scent analysis technology calling out to Magda begging her to crank up the wattage. Before submerging back into her lab, Monique turns to Magda and tells her, “Antonia is seemingly the only person my Perfumed Personality is working on. Do you think that will be enough?” Monique directs this question more to the ether than to anyone in particular. 

“Looks like it’s really working on her though. Oh right, before you leave. I am going through this really tough crush on someone and was hoping that you’d have some-“ Magda stops talking. Monique enters her lab leaving Magda behind in the empty kitchen and the lingering vapors of the ethical strawberry and lavender pacifist shampoo. Magda knows that she probably won’t see Monique emerge back out from her work for another two weeks at the latest. Magda shivers and steps outside and all of her pent up light energy continues bursting forth from her navel, banners of light shooting from her forehead, spotlights dancing out of each of her fingertips. Magda’s light even causes the clouds that Antonia used as calligraphy to break into a sweat. The extreme daylight and the small patch of rain causes a family of foxes to burst forth from out of the ground and carry on a quick and sweet wedding. Magda climbs on top of a dune and watches the wedding ceremony from afar. She remembers Hillary and groans, a sticky and somber sound. Magda has her revery broken by the sound of a voice calling from below the dune.

“cOuld yOu pleeze take Our picha, lamp lady? Da lurvely cOupa wOuld be sO grateful!!” The source of the voice is coming from an approaching silver fox who has a slight wobble in his gait. Magda looks at the silver fox further and notices that he also has two plastic and springy legs. Magda not wanting to seem judgmental, sighs and takes the fox’s hefty Kodiak bridge cam and without even taking time to focus the lens takes the picture. The newly wedded couple and the silver fox open up the camera’s finder and look at the results and start panting in approval. They have never seen themselves look so well lit before. 

“Daddy! You must pay this kind lady Beacon mucho ancient coins! I’ve never looked this good!” Magda smiles and shakes her head and puts her hands into her pockets, leaving the foxes behind. She readjusts her trench coat and puts on a large wide-brimmed blackout hat she keeps in a box shaped fanny pack. Even while wearing her light suppression accessories each and every passing streetlamp emits a powerful sphere of light that dims with each of Magda’s passing step. Most of the houses in Magda’s neighborhood are heavily tranquilized and sleeping in deprivation tanks so the dramatic light fluctuations don’t bother most. One overhead apartment pulls back its drapes and an angry shirtless and chiseled man has taken out a mirror and trying to reflect the light back down at the street. The power of the light’s heat creates another pothole into the road, which causes the man to start swearing and yelling incoherently. Magda kneels down onto the empty sidewalk and rubs her palms together causing the street lights to dim back down to their normal level. Magda’s face looks pale and she begins moving at a slower pace.

“Damn…I’m so close. Being mindful of so many people really sucks. I think I’m going to lie down in this pile of moss and maybe I’ll wake up back in my bed.” Magda hums a lullaby to herself and begins folding herself into a ball of fading light. Magda is blacking out.

///

She opens up her eyes as soon as she registers motion. Magda is being carried in somebody’s arms! Magda almost cranks up her internal light furnace but then she smells the tangy coconut cologne of Elroy. 

“What did I tell you about picking up tramps?” Asks Magda with a yawn. “Put me down you goon!” Elroy immediately does so and gives Magda her space.

“Of course, I’m sorry Magda. I was out scouting shoot locations for a new headshot this week and saw your abandoned space craft on the side of road. Knowing you as well as I do I had a feeling that you were probably enjoying one of your unnecessary sojourns. Thankfully you left it in one of the bougiest possible neighborhoods so I think you’ll be fine with picking it up tomorrow. I’ll leave you be. Clearly you are wanting some time alone.” Elroy brushes off a twig out of Magda’s hair and starts walking back into his own shabbier Electric Hover Desert Rabbit.  

“Any luck with your lamp search?”asks Magda causing Elroy to stop in his tracks and turn around revealing an excitable grin.

“I found this Ponce de Leon Torchier that promises to age and de-age me based on what kind of bulb I put into it. There’s  this audition for a movie about a man breastfeeding his own child I got. The role comprises of both the child and the father, it’s a student film but the kid directing is supposed to have a real stash of connections.” Chatters Elroy, clearly trying to regain a sense of joviality between him and Magda. 

“I have actually never really bothered playing with light in that way before. How are you so good at online shopping? And here I was about to actually consider giving you a droplet of my very own light” sneers Magda as she enters through the lamp shaded gate of her parent’s compound. 

“What?! Really! Wait Magda I’ll gladly take some of your light off of your hands! Come on, come back!” Magda leaves Elroy behind once again and a roving street sweeper pushes him up the current of streaming sidewalk leading deeper into the Energy District. He calls out to Magda yelling her name as he’s being street swept away. Magda turns copper green with regret with even toying around with the idea of sharing any amount of light. Especially with a total goon like Elroy! The family leopard spotted moth, Sapphire, comes whooshing up to Magda giving her a silky kiss. Magda grins and brushes the silk away from her face and picks up a floating torch, lights it with her finger and tosses it as far as she can throw, which due to the pent up hormonal surging emotional cycle Hillary has gotten Mega into, turns out to be quite far. Sapphire flap flap flaps her wings into a column of speed and chases after the floating torch. The outside ladder leading to her room has been rolled up. 

“Because of course!” Sighs Magda as she slips off her cycling light up shoes, the tongue of her shoes light up with a balloon showcasing the amount of miles Magda has walked from Monique’s house, nearly fourteen, if only Elroy hadn’t gotten in the way. Inside both of her parents are stationary as always. Wires running from the back of both of their heads so that when they glance over at the door in unison you can see the pulses of light traveling at the same speed from both of their skulls. Magda parents disgust her and she really tries getting up stairs into her room as fast as possible. 

“Magpie! Get your cute little grown ass over here and tell me about this nice young man you’re considering giving up your light to!”

“Journey,” Magda says addressing her mom by her proper name which causes her mom to feign a twinge,”Why must you two always insist on watching the security feed whenever I am coming home. Every. Single. Time. Do you two expect me to be still be living here until either one of you finally burn out? Just so you can always have a little show of someone else’s lives to watch? You’re almost as much as a goon as that ‘boy’ you are referring to. You know him already, that’s Elroy, we’re just friends.”

“See Enterprise? What did I say?” Journey says peering directly into her husband Enterprise’s vacant light producing sockets. 

“Aw dawlin looks like I owe you thirty pulses! I knew I should have betted on our Magpie giving her light away to some respectable enterprising lesbian. You’re donating your light to science right Magpie? That’s why you left today?”

“I am not donating my light to anyone! I am not anyone’s generator ready to be milked and sapped away for all of my worth.”

“Magda you know your light is strong enough that you could be a really successful crime fighter, or you could even be just another lamp builder like your lil brother and sister.” Coos Magda’s father, Enterprise.

“Or, she can be nothing too! Fine by me! Keep on going missy, I can see how much you are burning to get back into your precious room. All I ask is that at some point tonight please help your siblings make some kind of dinner. Your dad and I are going to be all tied up for the rest of the night running double concurrent shifts. Those damn strikers! We don’t need em! Ow ow ugh I’ve got to be quiet and focus.” Journey rubs her temple which emits a spark. 

“Relax my love. This is just a rough patch. Once there is a serum manufactured we’ll be able to import more workers and we can recharge for the next decade. Maybe even more.” Enterprise says this to Journey and they hold each other’s hands not even minding that they are becoming entangled within one another’s connecting wires. Magda hears the quiet scrape scraping of her younger brother and sister’s lamp and neon shop that takes up most of the second floor. Magda ascends up one more floor and reaches her bedroom at the end of a hallway adorned with family portraits. Mainly of her siblings Gidget and Chester selling lamps around the world. See Gidget and Chester in Bali with a lamp made from resurrected coral reefs. There’s a picture of Gidget, Chester and both of her parents soft shoeing on the grave of Thomas Edison. See Gidget defile the Tesla’s tomb. Chester burning an effigy of Musk. There’s one picture of Magda and Sapphire, Magda is only visible as a beam of light. Magda opens up her bedroom and finds Antonia, the Daycrawler waiting for her, suspending herself from the ceiling. Rotating around like a monk’s slimy finger circling around the lip of a singing wine bowl. 

“Hiya there Miss Shiney! I brought you a present!” Antonia says this in her persistently chippier and bubblier voice that has not  subsided since taking her shower with Monique’s personality shifting scented shampoo. Monique raises her right eyelid causing  one of her dimmest overhead lights to come on. The light reveals reveals the sight of a  tied up woman sporting a bouncy pompadour sprawling out across Magda’s bed. Soy Hands Flannigan! 

“What am I supposed to do with an assassin? All I want to do is curl up and shop. God I sound pathetic.” Magda says attempting to hide the  anxiety spiking through the roof of her dome  coursing down to her toes. 

“She knows how you can find Hillary!”

That’s all it took. All Magda needed to hear was her name. The utterance of Magda’s one and only Hillary causes each and every one of Magda’s three hundred and eighty five lights adorning her bedroom to flare out bright beams of all encompassing light. The kind of light that only glows for a woman once thought lost and dead to the world soon to be rediscovered. Maybe, thinks Magda, having a reformed violent and dangerous assassin as a companion wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[inuyashasfangs]

👀👀

For the sake of fairness, I’ll be offering you a wip for each eyeball here. Reciprocity and whatnot! also i’m stealing your formatting uwu

1. Starting off strong with a Dream Daddy fic I’ve had in the works since 2017! It stars a named female reader-character who, spoilers, is very very trans. at the time i thought i was just on some Writer Shit but��assflash newshole you’ve been trans this whole time

The air of Mat’s café was punctured by a thick, heavy groan as she leaned back weightily in her chair, head thrown back with a pinch to her brows. “I have absolutely zero clue how to tell Damien I’m trans. Or,” she scoffed inwardly at the difficulty of speaking. “You know, whatever I am. Sure as hell ain’t a woman.”

From behind the counter, Mat snorted, topping Marissa’s flat white with a hearty helping of steamed milk. “You do realize he’s going to keep calling you his girlfriend if you don’t say anything, right?”

Marissa hummed dryly, smiling despite herself. “Wouldn’t be a useless gay if I didn’t make it needlessly difficult, would I?”

2. this was almost a robofucker fallout piece but then i remembered the cold touch of shame for the first time in eons and decided not to out myself like that. here’s an entirely different scene from the same canon instead, (yet still featuring poe, the player character who does not at all want to fuck a robot)

It’s early evening.  

The sun begins to slip below the horizon, the blue-greys of the Bostonian sky give way to the beginnings of sunset, the romantic orange and purple rays just barely visible through the haze of rain clouds looming above. Rain is falling gently onto the cobblestone streets, washing off the blood of Trish, her goons, and that beady-eyed Cooke fellow. 

The fight was an easy ambush; an easy turning point to double-cross Cooke when he’d turned away with the promise of skipping town for good. Maccready hadn’t seemed to mind, and Cait had seen enough violence to make her numb to it. 

Adrenaline courses through Poe’s body as she loots the bullet-ridden bodies of the people she’d slain, pocketing keys to their Diamond City residencies and the loose caps lining their triggerman pants; this is the life she’d been destined for. A law degree, a cozy house, a loving husband, a family—none of it could compare to the rush of Jet overwhelming her senses and pulling the world to the ends of her eyelids, to the smell of fresh blood and the savor of unmarred flesh she gnashed at in victory. 

Just as it did then, the air smells like the harbor. Like tiny flashes of before. The rain seeps into the fibers of her harness; makes it stick to her skin. This was better than before.

3. yes it’s homestuck goodbye

“Mm, Gamz, if i didn’t know any better I'd think you’re trying to distract me.”

Gamzee clicks from somewhere in his throat. “Naw, my splendiferous friend, I’m just lending a motherfucker a hand.” A claw trails delicately along your spine. “Ain’t realize generosity was a crime in this piece.” He’s in your ear now, his voice a low, rumbling purr. Fucker knew exactly what he was doing. 

You snort. “If you wanna fuck you can just ask, man. No need for all the handsy preamble.” 

4. Birthday fluff for a Mr. Levi Ackerman that Will Not be finished by end of day today and will definitely sit in my drafts until next year. Wolf, buddy, if you’re reading this, that’s the way it be.

“Do I buy him a Christmas card, or one for his birthday?” you asked the person on the other end of the phone. 

You’re in the supermarket, staring down rows and rows of festive cards amidst the throngs of holiday shoppers frantically skittering around you in want of steep savings. Christmas carols ring distantly from the overhead speakers, cutting lightly through the din of ten, twenty, fifty conversations happening all around you.

Erwin senses you pause and calls for your attention. “Lost yourself in the crowd again?”

You puff out a laugh. “More like i got lost in the breadth of corny puns they have on offer. You think Leevs would disown me if I got one that says ‘I’m feeling Santa-mental’? Or would that result in immediate execution?”