#and driving through san francisco to get there is nice :D

[the-bearer-of-bad-ideas]

drove to the airport one time in february 2022 and that specific car trip had such Nice Vibes i have been chasing the high of that car trip every since

[poliwat]

Nipomo

Four weeks sharing a room in San Francisco, four weeks since I decided not to go back to England. Michael wasn’t sleeping. A quarter tab of acid for his breakfast. Spliffs throughout the day, booze and blue raspberry C4 preworkout all through the night. He was recording an album, working on his set, making a website, building a 24-7 open-source radio live-stream at a free hackers’ space, and not finishing anything.

I was trying to write but spending a lot of time crying on the hot roof of the apartment building when he wasn’t around. He found me up there one afternoon at the end of one of his twelve-hour stints at the hackers’ space. Two straw hats, a beer, two cups. “I know you like to drink out of little cups!” He smiled and the inside of his mouth was blue from the raspberry preworkout. How do you hate someone as much as you love them? He said he’d been looking for me because he had a great plan. A childhood friend in the city was driving down to their hometown and we could get a ride. I could meet Michael’s parents; go to the beach; see the fields, wildflowers, and back roads. So beautiful this time of year. I wondered if it might save us. “It’s God’s country,” he said.

We arrived at his parents’ the following morning, after a four-hour drive south. A low ranch-style house on a wide road of low ranch-style houses. Michael said it was too nice a day to be stuck inside, so he took me around the side and we climbed straight up onto the roof: “I know you like roofs in California!” I did like roofs in California. The front and back yards of gravel, wood chip, and pebbles, interspersed with the occasional palm tree or redwood. At the end of the road was the main street, a couple of stores, a steak house, and a taqueria. Beyond, fields of lemon trees and mustard grass and farmland that stretched a few miles inland, up to a range of golden hills. Above us, the sun shone like the grill of a new truck.

The house was full of knickknacks and shells and crystals and string lights. A “Be Grateful” sign by the coffee maker. A “Be Grateful” mat by the front door. A canvas in the kitchen printed with a picture of three fluffy ducklings and the words “I have joy down in the bottom of my heart.” It was hard to make out how many cats there were. And then PooPoo, the overweight chihuahua, waddled in from the hallway and charged at Michael, baring his red gums and gnashing tiny, pointed teeth. Michael told me the dog was the spawn of the devil and the root cause of all the issues that existed between him and his parents. I already knew that the issues between Michael and his family had begun when Michael had gone to college in Santa Cruz five years before, found drugs, wouldn’t get a real job, and kept having to move back home when he ran out of money.

His parents were musicians who’d met in Santa Barbara in the seventies. She’d sung in one band and he’d played guitar in another. They’d both worked in the same hippie jewelry store downtown before marrying and moving to a smaller town up the coast. I met them that morning when they followed the pets into the kitchen. Gene was short and round with a kind face, freshly shaved with a peaked cap on his bald head and a smart cowboy shirt tucked into chinos. He gave me a warm hug that smelled of Irish Spring. He picked up PooPoo and fed him some bratwurst from the fridge. Mom went straight to the coffeepot. She wore a blue shirt with cropped leggings and had her blond hair put up neatly in a clip. She had the same unblinking stare as Michael.

Gene left to work his shift at a music shop in the next town over and Mom said she needed more coffee before her pain medication kicked in and she could talk properly. She had arthritis and had pain from a series of botched surgeries. The pain was the worst in the morning, but she was managing it with physical therapy, swimming, and half a pill on the bad days. She spent the next hour pacing around the house, telling me about all the things she needed to do—pay the bills, fill out paperwork, physical therapy, feed the dog, feed the cats—only to be derailed from doing any of it by the pets, or the phone ringing. She kept apologizing for being so busy, but she couldn’t seem to get anything done. The bills stayed untouched in a pile that took up most of the kitchen table, the phone rang and rang. There were Post-its all over the house: “Put coffee out,” “Tell Dad to clean sink,” “Ask Michael where he is living in SF,” “Be Grateful.”

Michael derailed her the most, as he tried to make breakfast and clean up after himself. Mother and son knocked around the place, from the coffeepot to the piano to the back door, to the front door to the coffeepot again. They both had the habit of getting lost midaction and the same strange sweetness. At one point, just after getting at him about putting the dishes away in the wrong place, she went into the living room and sang out with joy. When she came back into the kitchen she was smiling. She put her arms around her son. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and closed his eyes.

Michael and I spent the afternoon walking around town. Not a place built for walking but it had its charm, the slanting golden light making even the Vons supermarket look beautiful. We bought three beers for five dollars at the Stop and Shop and watched the sun go down as we sat against a fence by a dusty abandoned lot. He told me that the most famous thing about this town was a Dorothea Lange photograph of migrants from the thirties.

For dinner Michael made sandwiches and, to his mom’s exasperation, moved the bills off the dinner table and told everyone we were going to sit down. They were very good sandwiches, pastrami and banana peppers and mayo with a steak seasoning, on thick slices of bread. He made a sandwich each for his parents, and two types for me and him to share. “Me and Helen share everything,” he announced. “We’re in love.”

After a few bites, Mom started talking about how hard it was, living with her husband, how she loved him but needed him to leave. “I keep telling him, but he won’t go. He does nothing around the house, just eats and spends and plays his guitars.” She said that when she married him, he was already deep in debt. He’d never told her how bad it was. Then she said to me, “I love my son, but I’d understand if you wanted to leave him. Don’t make the same mistake I made.” Gene didn’t say anything in response, just happily ate his sandwich and seemed to be somewhere else. Michael went to the fridge and popped a Corona.

The next day was a Saturday. We borrowed Gene’s car and spent the day in the ice-plant dunes of Grover Beach. When the sun set, we snuck into a motel jacuzzi. Crouched in the bubbles, Michael said he’d told his dad that he’d marry me if he had a dollar. “I dunno about marriage,” I told him.

Gene was in the kitchen when we got back, enjoying a Corona Familiar in a frosted glass. He was in a good mood from playing a gig at a wedding where he’d devoured a seafood-platter buffet. “I tell you … those crabs. All that fish. Mountains of it.” We sat at the counter with him. Over more Coronas, Mom cackling along to Scrubs on the TV, he told me about his first love. At one point he made the mistake of asking Michael what his plans were. Michael said he was going to start an open-source 24-7 radio station that spread empathy across the world and freed a billion people. He already knew his mission on Earth, God had told him. His parents didn’t need to worry. Gene turned to me with a smirk. “I told Michael to experiment with LSD. I didn’t realize he’d be experimenting every day for five years.”

They drove us to the train station in San Luis Obispo the next afternoon. Another sunny day but things felt different. Now I knew that this impossible person had a mother and father and that he made some kind of sense beside them. When his parents hugged us goodbye his dad whispered something in Michael’s ear. “If I had a dollar,” Michael said.

We found a booth with a table in the train’s observation car, beside a window. Gene and Mom spotted us as they were driving out of the parking lot and circled back through three or four times, waving as the train left the station. Leaving San Luis Obispo, the train wound around and between the Pacific Coast Ranges. The slopes reached up on either side, rolling above the windows. Michael leaned on my shoulder while I read him a story I’d written about my alcoholic dad. It made him cry. I told him not to move yet—a girl in another booth was painting a picture of us. I could see it in the corner of my eye, strokes of yellow and green and gold.

***

Six months later, Gene was diagnosed with stage four cancer. A melanoma that had not been removed properly in the spring had spread to his organs by September. Michael and I were living in Chicago by the time Gene began chemo, sleeping on a futon at an event studio that my sister ran and earning a bit of money setting up and cleaning up after baby showers and photoshoots during the day and after parties and music videos at night.

The family told Michael not to come back yet. So we stayed in Chicago for September and into October. Michael’s desperate restlessness and acid-fueled benders had subsided, and the deranged passion that had brought us together had calmed to a more dependable, if rocky, companionship. We kept our clothes in a cupboard and pretended to the people who rented the space that we didn’t live there. When the studio was in use, we visited my sister and her son, or wandered around Lincoln Park, or walked along Lake Michigan, waiting for the call from his family to say that he needed to come home. Sometimes Michael brought his guitar and I brought my notebook and we’d sit playing and writing, cooling our feet in the lake. Other times we had long, agonizing arguments walking around the humid parks. He said I was unloving and spiritually dead inside. I said he was cruel and overbearing, that we were two very different people from different worlds and it would never work anyway, it was doomed. He said that only proved how godless and unloving I was. What was cruel was how little I believed in us. All that needed to happen was for me to find faith. We were twenty-seven. We could move off the grid, have lots of children, and raise chickens. I wanted to get on a plane and go home. Whenever we had an especially bad argument, he stormed off to the hot-dog place around the corner from the studio, where the staff was famous for insulting its customers. He made friends with the people who worked there. “The only real people in this city,” he said. Baby Jesus Ted Bundy was one of the names they called him. He would come back in the best of moods. He was on one of those hot-dog runs when his sister called and told him the doctor said it was a matter of days. He spent his entire savings, four hundred dollars, on a flight for the next morning. I packed up the futon and moved into my sister’s apartment. He called after two weeks at home. His dad really was dying now and he needed to see me. Please could I come? My sister found me a flight from Chicago to LA for fifty dollars for the following week.

***

The Amtrak train from Los Angeles to San Luis Obispo goes up the Pacific coast, at times along the beach and at others high in the cliffs. Michael was waiting for me on the platform, wearing a black hoodie and a black cap with a small red-and-white mushroom on the front. He called it his mourning costume. In the car he gave me a paper bag. Inside was a bar of chocolate wrapped neatly in tissue paper. As he drove out of the lot a full moon appeared over the trees.

We arrived at the house to find Gene sitting on a red La-Z-Boy, watching Blazing Saddles, PooPoo on his lap. The dog jumped off when he saw us coming and charged at Michael’s ankles. Michael picked him up, thrashing, and plopped him outside, slamming the screen door. Gene had almost halved in size, his face completely sunken, his arms and legs, bluish and pale, poking out of a baggy T-shirt and shorts. I tried to hide my shock but it must have been apparent. People had been coming over all week to say their goodbyes.

When Michael had first told me they’d put Gene on home hospice, I’d assumed it meant he would be home under regular medical care. What it really meant on his low-cost insurance was a hospital bed in their house, medication, and thirty-minute visits from a nurse twice a week. The rest of the time it was up to Michael, his mother, and his sister to look after Gene. By the time I arrived, the home hospice had been going on for two weeks and they’d stumbled into a rhythm. Gene slept in the Blue Room (blue walls and carpet), which had once been Michael’s bedroom, then the bedroom of a series of lodgers, then a room for Mom to stretch in. Now it was the room where Gene was going to die. There was the hospital bed in the center and a folding table against one wall, covered in a red paper tablecloth, pieces of hospital equipment, dozens of pill pots, and Michael’s junk. Michael and his mother took turns administering a regimen of medication every few hours: liquid morphine, vitamins, blood pressure pills, pills to help his organs deal with all the pills. There was a mattress in the corner covered with a Lion King quilt where Michael had been sleeping. Gene had a little bell by his bedside that he rang when he needed something.

I was tired from the travel, so Michael set me up a bed in the Green Room next door. It had a single bed, another folding table, and a few blankets laid out for the cats to sleep on. Michael gave me his pillow and the Lion King duvet and put on another hoodie over the hoodie he was already wearing. We sat down on the bed for a moment and he rested his head on my shoulder. From the next room the little bell rang and he shot up. I curled up and drifted off.

The next morning Michael woke me up at nine o’clock with a mug of creamy coffee. “Get up! We’re going to the store!” His dad wanted egg bagels. They’d already given Gene his medicine, taken him for a shower, and rustled up a small first breakfast of eggnog and toast. It was only a quick drive to Vons but Michael drove very slowly, all the windows open, lighting one cigarette after another.

We returned to the sound of the little bell ringing. Gene wanted to sit out on the lounger. He wanted a coffee. Michael helped his dad outside and made the bagels. I did the dishes and Mom put on another pot of coffee while telling me how much pain she was in, her arthritis, her hip —she was falling apart.

I soon discovered that the most demanding part of the home hospice was Gene’s appetite. Over the next week we went out three or four times a day to find whatever thing he craved. The bell would ring and Michael would go running. “My dad wants a steak dinner!” We’d jump into the car to go pick up a steak, then sushi, then burritos.

Mom was paying for these elaborate requests with envelopes of cash she’d saved over the years, each one labeled with a particular purpose. Every time she pulled out a new one from the back of a drawer, my heart sank: forty dollars for Michael’s birthday, a hundred dollars for a plumbing emergency, a hundred for yard work—all gone.

As the morphine doses got larger and Michael more sleep-deprived, nights and meals and dreams collapsed into hallucinations. Gene would wake up, feel hungry, and ring his bell. Michael would help him into the kitchen and cook whatever Gene instructed. I’d hear all about it in the morning. Clam chowder from a can with packet noodles. Chicken soup with pork gyoza and taquitos. Michael told me that sometimes he’d drift off in the middle of cooking, laying his double-hooded head on the kitchen counter.

I slipped by the Blue Room one morning, sheepishly hoping I could just make a coffee and bring my book out into the backyard. “The English Muffin!” Gene called out. “I want an English pot roast. Can you do that?”

I returned to the doorway. PooPoo, who was more or less living on Gene’s chest by this point, greeted me with a growl.

“Yes!” I said. “I think I can.”

Waiting for the coffee to brew, I googled English pot roast. It seemed to be something to do with potatoes and meat, a stew. I couldn’t find Michael anywhere.

“Gene …” I said, eventually going back into his room. “What do you mean by English pot roast?”

“I mean Henry VIII creamy banquet pot roast. Pig’s blood! Potatoes! Lots of meat. Don’t forget the meat!”

I called for Michael all over the house, in the front yard, the backyard, down by the shed. Finally his voice came down from the sky.

“I’m up here!” he said. I couldn’t see him, but some branches moved at the very top of the thirty-foot redwood.

“He wants me to make a medieval pot roast,” I told Michael when he came down.

“He’ll go back to sleep. I need to give him some more morphine now anyway. He’ll forget all about it.”

Michael was right. While PooPoo barked and tore at his fingers, he fed his father the liquid morphine, and Gene fell back to sleep. Michael took a nap. An hour later the little bell rang again.

“Blueberry pancakes!” I heard. “Can she do blueberry pancakes?”

I found a mix for blueberry muffins in the cupboard. It was the middle of the day by the time they were done. One came out with a funny face. Two freeze-dried blueberries for wonky eyes and a crease below them like a sideways smile. I thought it looked a bit like Michael. I showed his mother and she agreed. Excited, we woke Michael up with the muffin doppelgänger on a plate.

Hold it up to your face, we told him. Do your wonky eyes. Smile sideways a bit. See?

Mom brought a muffin cut up in four with a pile of butter to Gene on a little plate. He put the whole lump of butter on one quarter, had a bite, and put the plate down on his lap, exhausted. “Do you like your muffin, Dad?” Michael said. Gene didn’t respond. I felt that in some great way I had failed.

***

Michael’s sister, Bonnie, lived in the next town over. She had a two-year-old girl, Sofia, and was heavily pregnant with her second. She’d bring a meal or some shopping over every few days and spend a few hours with her dad. When she and the little girl spilled in through the front door, the whole house seemed to calm.

One afternoon, Gene and Bonnie were stretched out on the sofa, the patio doors letting in a warm breeze. Sofia was running around, looking for the cats. Mom was out in the hammock. I was sitting next to Michael on the piano bench. He started playing a peaceful, sweet song. I asked Bonnie what Sofia’s birth had been like. She said it had been an amazing experience. She said she went full wild woman. At the moment of the birth, she’d been on all fours and felt her whole heart open wide to God. There was no pain, no body, no one else, just her baby and God. Gene said that was the way he felt about death. When the moment came, he was going to go into it with arms open to God. He held his arms out wide as he said it.

Later, Bonnie’s husband, Paul, came over. They got out some guitars from the garage, brought them into the Blue Room, and sang songs around Gene’s bed. Nineties folk—The Moldy Peaches, Bright Eyes—and then an amazing rendition of “O Holy Night,” Paul on the harmonica, Michael on the guitar, and Bonnie singing. I sat on the mattress and watched them. I wanted them to keep playing—no more talking, talking, talking. “O night divine, o night …”

At the end of the song, Mom came in. She said it was late, Dad was tired, she was tired, we were all tiring him out. Michael said, “Wow Mom, you even managed to ruin this.” Bonnie snapped at Michael, “Don’t talk to her like that.” Michael said, “Yeah, yeah, it’s all my fault.” Bonnie’s husband asked no one in particular if they’d noticed that the moon’s face had changed. “They’ve done something to the moon’s face,” he said. “I swear …”

“He’s tired,” Mom said, turning to Gene. “Are you tired, sweetie? Tell them you’re tired. No one believes me. Someone’s gotta look after him. He needs his rest. Tell them for once. I know how tired you are. He’ll never say it himself …”

“All right, Mom. I’m tired.”

I followed Michael out to the backyard with a beer and a cigarette and found him up in the redwood again. I coaxed him down with my offerings and convinced him not to climb all the way up the tree in the dark.

***

Gene’s body was shutting down. His legs and arms were swelling and leaking fluid. He had to carry paper towels around with him to mop up the mess, but he never complained. We took turns massaging his legs to ease the pain. When it was my turn, I made a bit of conversation, asked him about his life. He didn’t want to go into any of that. He just smiled and told me to massage with all the strength my skin and bones could muster.

Amid all this, Michael wanted to have sex whenever he had a minute free. When his dad was sleeping he’d usher me into the Green Room or drive us out to the back-road fields and pull over on the side of the road. At night, with the hills behind us, the hum of cars in the distance, a light breeze through the grass, it was kind of spectacular. But I was never in the mood. So often we would go all the way out there for me to freeze over. “You’re removed,” he told me. “Checked out. A sandbag.”

“Well, sorry,” I said. “But I massaged your dying dad’s legs earlier. I’ve come all the way here. I’m doing what I can do. Right now all I can be is a sandbag.”

“I’m exhausted and I need love.”

“We just had sex.”

“Oh yeah. ‘We just did this, we just did that. I gave you a blowjob last week …’ ”

“I know you’re sad but you’re being a dick. How can you not see that?”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“You were the one who started the conversation. I was just lying here.”

“Exactly.”

***

The days went on and Gene held on. One evening I noticed a slice of a moon through the kitchen window and realized it had been two weeks since I’d arrived. Despite the pain, Gene still wanted to move around, take a stroll with his walker, barbecue pork, play guitar on the patio with his son. “This is not how normal hospice patients behave,” Mom said. We were standing in the kitchen, looking at family pictures. In many of them the whole family and some friends were sitting around jamming, having a good time. Not that long ago—five years, maybe.

“Most people just lie in bed. But my husband—he’s on his feet demanding fine dining! I don’t want to complain, but it makes me think—miracles can happen. And if he does get better, things would have to change around here. There’s no money. We can’t live like this. Steak-dinner takeout! We’d lose the house.”

I nodded and made to say something, but she carried on.

“Sometimes I think I might be an alien,” she said. “I’m not like other people. Like lying—people lie so easily but I can never lie. Neither can Michael. We’re both like that. I can see how hard it is for him in the world. We just don’t make sense here! He needs to get a job, get a car. Get going with his life. You’re so good for him. He listens to you. I always told him, If you wanna just do what you want, then find a groupie. You’re no groupie. You’re like an angel sent here. I mean it. I prayed to God for you and you came. But you’ve got your life ahead of you.”

Michael must have been listening because he ran out of the Blue Room at that point.

He took my hand and peeled me away. “We’re going on a walk now, Mom. She doesn’t wanna talk anymore.”

“See,” Mom said. “He’ll do anything for you.”

***

Gene was still ringing his bell on his sixty-fifth birthday, November 16, a milestone that had seemed unthinkable a month before. We arranged a small party for his family and a few of his music buddies. Michael spent the morning setting up the backyard with microphones and guitars. He even put a TV and VCR on a cart on wheels to play home videos. We drove out to the Mexican supermarket and bought carnitas and a case of mini Corona bottles. On the way out he impulse-bought a ceramic Day of the Dead guitar to give his dad. When the friends arrived at the house, Mom took the opportunity to go have some time alone and run errands at Vons and CVS.

The men barbecued pork, and I made pico de gallo, according to Bonnie’s instructions. It was a hit. The men in their cowboy getups were shocked that the English girl had prepared it. The sun was shining, people were sitting out, eating the barbecue. Michael tried his best to get people to play music but it wasn’t happening. How do you celebrate the birthday of a dying man? I couldn’t figure out what to do with myself. At one point, Michael gave his dad the ceramic guitar wrapped up in Christmas wrapping paper. “Día de los Muertos,” said his dad. He held the guitar in his palms, disgusted.

The men got it together and started playing “The Cowboy Who Started the Fight.” Gene watched on in his wheelchair. He closed his eyes as they sang “screamed through the veins of the street.” They sang a few more songs. Michael and I took a break to catch the sun go down over a field of tomato vines. In the ten minutes that we were out, Gene stood up with a guitar to play a song with them. He was just sitting back down as we came in the door. Soon after, the guys all left.

“Man plans, God laughs,” Michael said.

Mom was gone for most of the day. She returned from her errands with a gift for Michael. She was so excited about it, she wanted to give it to him straight away. Out of a green and white paper bag, Michael pulled a fluffy llama with wonky eyes. He squeezed it and the llama squeaked.

“It’s a dog toy,” he said, sounding like his father when he held the Day of the Dead guitar. Mom laughed and laughed. She said it reminded her of Michael and the blueberry muffin. I laughed too. Michael grimaced.

“Oh no … I think he’s angry,” Mom said.

“Here,” I told Michael. “Don’t be angry. Squeeze your dog toy.”

He took the llama in both hands, crossed his eyes, stuck his tongue out, and let it rip.

***

November 18 was the eighth anniversary of my own father’s death. I woke up feeling sad and drained. At this point, I thought to myself, Gene needed to die or someone else would. I spent the morning swinging in the hammock by the redwood at the bottom of the garden, hiding from everyone. I heard Michael and Mom calling for me from the house. Gene wanted a massage, they said. His legs were hurting. I couldn’t face it. Michael called my phone. I ignored it.

When I went back inside, the two of them were maneuvering Gene into the living room. Michael almost dropped him and he fell back on the sofa with a cry of pain. “You’re not helping!” Mom screamed at Michael.

“Mom. I am midhelping. You’re brain-dead from your painkillers.”

“Enough!” Gene’s voice boomed from the sofa, where he was half-collapsed, falling off the side of it. “Stop it! Both of you!”

Mom and Michael stopped, ashamed.

“Now, son.” Gene took in a quiet, pained breath. “Can you help me off this damn sofa and take me back to bed?” Michael pulled him up by the armpits.

That night Gene could only manage a spoonful of canned tomato bisque.

“I think he’s going to die today. The same day as your dad. If our dads die on the same day that’s God talking. We’ll have to get married.”

Later, Michael slept next to me in the Green Room while his mom was with Gene. I dozed while I listened to Mom talk to Gene, telling him about their life together. “We’re good people,” she told him. “Weird people.” She could have been saying anything really, the hum was so soothing. “There’s no one around here like us.” It kept sending me back to sleep.

I woke up to Gene’s voice crying out: “Help! I can’t breathe!” I pushed Michael and he bolted into the Blue Room. Mom woke up too. “I’m coming!” she called out.

I stayed in bed, listening. They were arguing about how much morphine to give Gene. Mom said Michael was giving him too much. Michael said it wasn’t enough. She ran to get the phone to call the nurse. Gene was desperately trying to get words out. He couldn’t breathe. And then a desperate gargling, drowning on thin air. Michael was saying, “It’s okay Dad. I’m right here. I’m right here,” all through the gargling until Gene was no longer making any sound.

When I walked in, Gene’s skin had already yellowed. I realized I’d seen three dead bodies now. My dad, my granddad, and Gene. They all looked the same, laid out on a hospital bed. It was five minutes to midnight. An hour later a nurse came. Another hour, and a man and a woman arrived from the mortuary. At the door, their long, gray, thinning hair obscuring half their faces, they told me they were here for the body. Never have I seen more ghoulish-looking people. They wore baggy suits with sleeves that came down over their hands, and round, shiny shoes that also seemed a few sizes too big. They moved slowly. “Was he in the military?” they asked. “No,” we said. “He was not in the military.”

“Okay, thank you.” They put a sheet over Gene’s body and wheeled him through the house, out the front door. Mom followed him out, holding PooPoo. She wanted to show the dog that Dad was leaving. Dad was being wheeled onto the van.

“See, it’s okay, PooPoo. There he goes. They’re wheeling him in now. He’s going …”

Michael didn’t want to watch his dad go into the back of a van. I found him in the backyard with a tall glass of vodka, smoking a cigarette. He joked that he’d been praying to his dad as he was dying. “Come on, five more minutes. If you make it five more minutes I won’t have to marry her.” Then he said that he was plotting to steal morphine to kill the dog.

All the lights were on. It was three in the morning. Michael pulled out a crate of home videos and Mom and I told him to put them away. I made us some tea. We had some more vodka. Mom went to bed and I put Michael in the shower. I washed his hair and cried, but he was like a stone. I could tell he was still obsessing about killing PooPoo. After the shower, I put him in a clean T-shirt and underwear, tucked him in to bed, and held him tight until he fell asleep.

I woke up in the morning to Michael sleeping soundly next to me. He looked so at peace I didn’t want to wake him up. It made me cry. His eyes opened. “Dad?” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. Soon after, we heard Mom howling. Long, slow howls. One of the saddest, strangest noises I’ve ever heard. “My life!” she called out between the howls. “My life!” It was almost like singing.

After that first day Mom said she needed to mourn alone. We needed to leave so she could scream and cry and talk to God. We went to Bonnie’s for a night but then Bonnie said she was too sad and stressed to have us there, with the baby coming soon. A little desperate, we decided to go camping. For the next week we drove between beaches along the central coast, walked, wrote, drank beer. Michael wrote a list of plans for the future, plans that involved him getting paid to travel, recording his album, singing at a body of water every day, building the 24-7 radio live-stream, moving every three months. He was going to give this list to his family, to prove to them that he had a plan. “You two need to move on with your own life now,” Mom had told me before we left. I couldn’t understand how his family could abandon him at a time like this. I’d had to remind her that Michael had come home to look after Gene, that we’d been living and working in Chicago. At the same time, I got what she was saying and why they didn’t want him hanging around. Michael was a liability, and now he was my liability.

***

Gene didn’t have a funeral. They were going to take his ashes out to the ocean in the spring. After the week of camping, Mom got lonely and wanted Michael back again. I decided to leave, to stay with a friend in Brooklyn for a while. I found a flight from San Francisco and booked a train from San Luis Obispo up the coast. Before I left, I found Michael a job doing yard work for a neighbor. He would save some money and leave in January. We said we might travel around. I tried to believe it could happen but I knew that it would not.

As we left for the train station, a commode arrived for Gene, more than a month late. Mom couldn’t bear to look at it, so we said we’d give it to Goodwill on the way to the station. She gave us a trash bag of old blankets to donate, too. I said a tearful goodbye to Mom and she gave me an envelope with a hundred-dollar bill in it. She thanked me for all the help and told me to get something nice for myself.

“Michael doesn’t want you to go,” she said.

I hugged her again and got in the car. “I never say goodbye,” she said. “I only say see you later.”

We drove up to the back of Goodwill and waved down a man who seemed to be accepting donations. “Is that a commode?” he asked.

“Yep. My dad just died. He never used it.”

He shook his head and tutted. “Nah. We can’t take that. That’s nasty.”

“How about these blankets?” Michael said, pointing to the trash bag.

“This bag? Those blankets?” The man took a quick sideways look. “Nah, we can’t take that either. That’s nasty, too.”

We were in a silly mood, driving to San Luis Obispo with the commode rattling in the back. It was a fresh December day. You could feel a change in the air. We stopped off at Ben Franklin’s Deli and I ordered three Californian sandwiches from the cashier, one for me, one for Michael, and one for him to bring home to his mom.

“My dad just passed away and my girlfriend is leaving for New York!” Michael announced out of nowhere.

There was still some time before the train. At the station we ran up over the footbridge to get a good view of the tracks and the hills. I took a few pictures of Michael. He took a few of me. The train came, we said goodbye, and I found a spot with a table at the back of the second-floor observation car, the same booth we’d sat in after that first trip. My bags stowed away, I looked down and saw Michael on the platform below, dancing to get my attention. He was trying to say something, but I couldn’t understand him. He mimed and danced around a bit more. Got on his knees. Drew a picture of a house with his finger in the air.

A man sitting a few seats ahead of me watched the scene in awe. All of a sudden he began narrating it to the rest of the car.

“Marry me,” the man said. “We’ll have a house by the sea.”

Michael mimed writing in a notebook, then swimming, then playing guitar.

“You can write poetry. I’ll swim. Play music,” said the man.

By this time everyone in the observation car was watching. The narrator turned to me.

“Does he have a phone number? I want to tell him something.”

“He doesn’t have a phone,” I said. “But you can leave a message on his mother’s answering machine.”

So the man dialed Mom’s number, and Michael, feeding off the audience, mimed a phone in response. I thought of Mom at home alone, rattled by the phone ringing. The man spoke to Michael through the glass and Michael nodded along, though he definitely couldn’t hear. Neither of them broke eye contact. The man said he was a preacher. He’d married about a hundred couples by now. Each time it had been uniquely special. “Why wait?” he told the future Michael, who would be listening to his mother’s answering machine if he ever got around to it. The preacher ended his message with his number, saying to call him if we wanted to get married.

The train started moving and Michael ran along the platform. I waved until I could no longer see him. Soon I was coasting inland. A rush of green-gold on either side. Pesticide farmland, trees, bushes thick with leaves, sunlight gracing the tip of everything. I stared out the window the whole journey. No sign of December anywhere, no sign of time passing. So much talk of marriage in God’s country. No doubt He had it all planned out for me.

[indiavietnamphotoblog]

With one month off of school, the ongoing grad student strike, and a temporary pause to the whitefly and melon research, I decided to go to India and then Vietnam for my 2022-2023 Winter break. Before even arriving here in India it was a very eventful trip. My initial EVisa application was rejected due to some glare on the passport photo, so I tried getting a paper visa from the Indian consulate via the company VFS Global. This proved to be a huge mistake as the processing was incredibly slow and the required forms were very unclear. Ultimately, with less than a week left before flying I canceled the paper visa and applied again for the Evisa, getting it less than 24 hours. I then spent the whole week calling VFS and trying to contact them any possible way to get my passport back from them in time to leave. I finally was able to talk to a person in the San Francisco office on Friday and they mailed the passport that day. It arrived from the UPS overnight shipping at 10:30 am, just one hour before I had to drive to LAX catch my flight. We made it to the airport in Delhi around 1am the next day and were cleared through customs quickly. Some friends of Shubhy’s drove us to Shubhy’s sister (Shagun’s) apartment in Sector D, southwest of the city center. We were greeted warmly that evening with many tasty snacks. It was also nice to be back to bathrooms with sprayer style bidets, after so long in the US using less functional bathroom facilities. When we woke up we got to enjoy a nice simple breakfast cooked by the servant, and then planned out our day in Delhi.

[itsjustafia]

Through It All and Afterwards

Adding to the bowling fic pile with my own :) Just some Dickkory cuteness and Core Four/Graysonfam banter.

Tag list: @ambelle @escapism-through-imagination @meetmeunderthestarrynight @ambeauty @lady-stirling @d-grayson58

Dick comes up with the idea on day 2 of the road trip.

The first day had been spent mostly driving. They did stop for a quick bite to eat a few times, but the kids mainly wanted to do some sightseeing. They were able to visit places the majority of the team had never been before, making new memories and taking some really nice family photos that will definitely be going up on the walls in the tower.

They even managed to fit in camping for the night. Gar suggested it, so Dick made it happen. They luckily found some tents at a gas station not too far from the campsite and also picked up the remaining supplies they’d need to build a campfire while they were there. The younger Titans absolutely loved it. Kory wasn’t as enthusiastic, but Dick won her over with s’mores.

Now, they’re about 8 hours away from San Francisco. Everyone is relaxing and enjoying the drive. Kory’s disco playlist has been going nonstop as she softly sings along to each track. Dick pretends to be annoyed but he can’t help but tap the steering wheel along to the beats as well. Tim is currently talking Conner’s ear off about the many facts on Superman and the rest of the Justice League he’s researched. Conner doesn’t mind though. In fact, he has been enjoying the new addition to the team the most. Rachel and Gar, on the other hand, have been using this time to sleep. Between tracking down the Lazarus Pit and working to resurrect Dick, the two of them used up a lot of energy. Especially Gar with his new transformations. So, they definitely deserve the rest.

Dick is happy they can have this downtime. Because these past few weeks in Gotham have been tough on everyone. The kid that they had been mourning got resurrected from the dead and turned his back on them. Then they lost Hank and Dawn at the same time, yet in very different ways. And too many of them were pierced by bullets. It really felt like the city was eating them alive.

But it’s all over. Gotham is in the past and it’s time to look to the future. Things aren’t perfect but all Dick wants to do right now is reconnect with his family and feel close to them again. That’s the main reason he rented this RV. They all need this.

He hadn’t seen Rachel in months. She’s grown so much it’s unbelievable. She’s returned from Themyscira with a maturity he’s never seen in her before, and that’s despite not completing her mission in the way that she’d hoped. He can’t wait to hear all the stories she has to tell him about her experience on the island.

He also feels like he owes this road trip to Gar for stressing him out so much. He knows Gar loves this family with his whole being. He’s fought so hard to keep them all together and Dick wouldn’t even be here today if it weren’t for him. So really, he owes Gar the world.

Then there’s Conner, who he almost killed. Not his best moment at all. Dick has already apologized countless times but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Nonetheless, Conner has forgiven him as he too made decisions he isn’t proud of.

And Kory. These last few months for her have been difficult, to say the least. From losing her parents, to reconciling with her sister, and now having to adjust to new powers. It’s been a lot. She seems okay with everything, but Dick knows deep down she’s still coming to terms with all that’s happened both personally and with the team. He hopes he can get some alone time with her once they get back home so that they can talk about it. But for now, she deserves to clear her mind and have some fun.

Dick turns down the stereo’s volume just as Kory’s singing the opening verse of ‘Dancing Queen’. “Hey! I was –”

“I’ve got a great idea,” Dick interrupts.

“You haven’t had a lot of those lately,” she quips with a smirk. She waits a beat before speaking again. “I’m kidding...partially.”

He’d love nothing more than to refute that claim, but he can’t. Kory is right. His decision-making skills haven’t been the best lately. But he’s ready to make up for that.

“We should go bowling,” he says instead.

One of her perfectly arched eyebrows immediately rises. “Seriously?”

“Yea, why not? It’s almost time for us to stop for a break. We could get some food and play a few rounds. It’ll be fun,” he offers with a shrug.

“I’m starting to realize we both have very different definitions of fun.”

“Come on, Kory. Trust me.”

She does trust him. Always has. Even after all the craziness that’s happened. Why else would she be on this RV with him, instead of sipping champagne on Bruce’s private jet like she anticipated? The fact that he’s cute may have also been an incentive.

Kory narrows her eyes at Dick for a moment and then sighs as she turns her head towards the kids in the back. “Hey guys, can you look up the nearest bowling alley?”

Dick gives her a triumphant smile before turning his attention back to the road.

After a quick Google search and a read-through of some reviews, Conner manages to find 'Lucky’s Bowl-A-Rama'. It’s surprisingly close. Just a 20-minute drive and they reach their destination. During that time, the kids take the liberty of splitting the group into two teams, designating Dick and Kory as team captains. Dick, Rachel, and Tim form “The Blackbirds”, while “The Extraterrestrials” consists of Kory, Gar, and Conner.

"You’re not an alien, though,” Tim explains to Gar as the group exits the van and heads for the door.

“So? It’s a cool name. Just go with it, Tim.” Gar retorts with a shrug.

“But –”

Rachel interrupts then, not wanting this to turn into a debate about what or who qualifies as an alien. “Just drop it Tim. Let him have this.”

Tim relents after that. Gar wraps his arm around Rachel’s shoulders and offers her a toothy smile as thanks.

When they all finally make it inside, they’re engulfed in neon. Lights, signs and about 90% of the furniture are covered in it. And Techno music is blasting through the speakers. This place really committed to their theme.

Dick takes a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and looks between the four teenagers. After a moment he hands the money to Rachel.

“Here. Take this and get yourselves some food.” he instructs.

“Yes sir,” Rachel responds with a smirk and a salute.

“Wait, why’d you give Rachel the money?” Conner asks.

Before Dick can respond Rachel interjects. “It’s because I’m the most responsible. Right, Dick?”

That is why he picked her. He would’ve given it to Conner, seeing as he’s somewhat the oldest of the bunch; but the last time Dick gave him money to buy food for everyone, he ended up spending it only on what he was interested in eating. They were stuck having chili dogs that night. Kory hates hot dogs. And Gar’s vegan. With Rachel in charge, Dick knows she’ll keep the boys in check. But he’s not going to tell the kids any of this.

“Actually, you’re all equally irresponsible in my eyes.” he replies with a grin. He hears Kory’s melodic laugh close behind him.

“Oh God. Dick’s trying to be funny again,” Gar mutters to his three teammates, causing them all to snicker. Even Kory can’t help but let out a small laugh. They walk away, heading to the food court, before Dick has a chance to say anything back.

While the kids tackle the food, Dick and Kory make their way to the front counter to pay for their game and get everyone’s shoes. He turns his attention to her.

“What’s your shoe size?” he asks.

She gives him a quizzical look. “Seven. Why?”

“You need to get your bowling shoes.” He points to the mismatched shoes on display behind the clerk. They’re also covered in neon.

“I have to wear those?”

“Yea.” he says with a chuckle, amused at her distaste.

“Why?”

“They prevent you from slipping. And they protect the lanes.”

“But they’re ugly.” she says with furrowed brows.

Dick can’t help but smile at how cute she is. “You’ll survive for a couple of hours. Plus, you look good in anything.”

The statement catches Kory off guard for a second. It’s not that he’s never complimented her before. It’s just that this time Dick seems different. A good type of different. He’s been this way since they left the Hell that is Gotham. There’s been both a boldness and easiness to him during this road trip that she hasn’t seen before. She likes it.

“Is that so?” Kory asks, a playful smile spreading across her face.

He leans in closer. "It is.”

And it begins again. This thing they do. Staring at each other as if they're the only two people in the room, totally oblivious to anything else going on. They’ve been doing it a lot lately. The last time it happened, Dick was behind the wheel and almost drove the RV into a ditch. He lied and told the kids a raccoon ran into the road just to save face. Seconds go by before the clerk’s voice finally draws them back to reality.

“So... sizes?” he asks looking between them, unsure of what’s happening.

Dick clears his throat and straightens up. “Um, right. We need 6 pairs. Sizes 7, 12, 13, 5, and two 9s”

“Sure thing. It’ll be $42 by the way.”

The clerk leaves them alone as he goes to retrieve their things. Kory turns to lean on the front desk, arms crossed. “You’re getting me to wear hideous shoes, Grayson. This better be worth it.”

“It will be. I'll make sure of it,” he promises.

With the shoes in hand, Dick and Kory rejoin the rest of the team and they all head over to lane 6. They take a few minutes to eat and go over the rules since Kory and Conner have never played before. Once that’s done, they start their game.

The teams end up being pretty evenly matched. They were concerned that having two super-powered aliens on one team would be an unfair advantage. But Dick and Tim are actually really good bowlers. And on the other team, while Conner's a genius and had figured out the gist of how to play correctly, he underestimated his strength. He practically threw his bowling ball down the lane during his turn, missing half the pins.

Kory goes up to retrieve her ball when her turn comes around; and Dick is immediately on his feet, making his way to her side.

“Need some help?” he asks, watching her curiously observe both her ball and the pins at the end of the lane.

“No, I think I’m good. Aim the ball and throw it. Seems easy enough.”

“I mean there’s a little more to it than that. There’s some skill involved. Your timing and the way you throw play a big role in how well you do.”

“Wow. Didn’t know you were an expert bowler, Grayson,” a teasing tone in her voice.

“I’m a man of many talents, Kory.”

Kory turns to him, gazing into his eyes for a bit. He really is different. “Okay then. Show me.”

Rachel and the boys watch as Dick lays one hand on the small of Kory’s back and gently holds her wrist with the other, instructing her through her turn. They whisper and laugh with each other through it all. She manages to hit 9 out of the ten pins on her first roll, and they both celebrate with a high-five.

“Isn’t he supposed to be on our team?” Tim asks, confused at Dick’s behavior.

“Yea. But it’s Kory, so that changes things,” Rachel responds with a knowing smile.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that when it comes to Kory, Dick makes exceptions. And vice versa,” Gar informs.

“So...they clearly like each other...but they’re not together...but then they act like a married couple?” Tim wonders aloud.

“Basically,” Conner says with a shrug.

“And how long have they been like this?”

“Since they met. So, about a year,” Gar says.

Tim nods his head, finally understanding. “Oh, so they're hopeless.”

“Yea,” Rachel, Gar, and Conner state in unison.

Their game continues and they reach their 10th and final frame after about an hour and a half. It’s a close race. The Blackbirds and The Extraterrestrials have 760 and 772 points respectively. They’re all on their final rolls and it could go either way. So, naturally, the competitiveness picks up.

“How about we make a bet?” Rachel suggests.

“I’m in,” Gar agrees.

Kory folds her arms, a smug look growing on her face. “I don’t think people who are currently losing should be making bets. Seems counter-intuitive.”

“The game’s not over yet. We still have a chance.” Tim says from his seat.

“Aw Tim, I love your optimism.”

“He’s right. We’ve still got a shot at winning. I mean Gar did mess up that last roll. Don’t count us out yet, Princess,” Dick chimes in, sliding his hands in his pocket.

“Hey! At least I didn’t roll two gutter balls in a row,” Gar counters.

Rachel smacks his arm, knowing the statement is about her.

“So, what’s the wager?” Conner inquires.

They all think for a moment. It’s Gar who speaks first. “Let’s just make it simple. Whichever team loses does the winning team’s chores for a month.”

“Um, I’m new here...I think I should be exempt from this,” Tim protests.

“Nice try, Tim” Conner snorts. “You want to be a Titan? Well, Titans do chores.” Everyone laughs then, watching Tim deflate.

“I’m gonna need a little more than that. Like two dozen donuts from that little café I like near the tower,” Kory adds, already thinking of which ones she’ll order.

“You wanna add in a foot rub while you’re at it?” Dick asks.

“I mean if you’re offering,” she shrugs. “You could also up the wager. What do you want?”

What he really wants is to kiss her. But obviously he can’t say that. Not now anyway.

“No. One month of chores sounds good to me. And I’ll get you your donuts too,” Dick responds. He turns to his teammates to get their approval. They both nod in agreement.

“Okay. Well, let the best team win,” she says with a singsong voice, smiling at him.

One by one they make their final rolls, the gap between scores remaining small. The Extraterrestrials are still ahead by only eight points. It’s really anyone’s game. Dick is the final one to take their turn. He’s managed to roll quite a few strikes this game and he’s confident he can do it again. All it takes is focus and precision. Bruce drilled those skills into his brain for most of his life so at least he can put it to use here.

He lines himself up with the center of the lane, takes a deep breath and extends his right hand back. He’s about to release the ball when a little voice catches his attention.

“Daddy, help me!”

Two lanes away to his left he sees a little girl, no older than three, with her parents. She’s clearly having the time of her life. Her father has her in his arms, helping her place her little bowling ball on one of those lane assist ramps. Her mother is right beside them, cheering her daughter on with words of encouragement.

Suddenly, the room starts to shift and the girl’s ball morphs into...a balloon. A red balloon. His mind then takes him back to the forest. The memory is so vivid it’s like he’s there again. He can hear and feel the leaves whooshing around him, and smell wafts of pine. And he can still make out every detail of her. Her neatly tied yet slightly off-centered space buns. Her soft, umber eyes that resemble his own. And her smile. That precious smile that shines just as bright as her mother’s. Kory’s.

He and Kory have – had? will have? – a daughter together...

The bowling ball is out of his hand before he can reel in his thoughts. It feels like time slows as Dick watches it hit the gutter. He hears an assortment of shouts behind him before he even turns around. Rachel and Tim groan in defeat as Gar and Conner jump around and shout with victory.

When he does turn around, Dick expects to see Kory beaming at the win. But all he’s met with is a look of concern. She knows he should have gotten that strike, or at least come close to it. Anything but a gutter ball. He avoids her gaze, a little embarrassed with himself. Instead, he turns his attention to his teammates.

“Sorry about that, guys. I thought I had it.”

“No worries, man. You did your best,” Tim sighs.

“...I really have to do Gar and Conner’s laundry for a month...” Rachel whispers with a shudder, a look of horror on her face.

After their game, Dick gives the kids some more money to go around and play some of the arcade games before they head out. He finds a seat for himself at a bench not too far from the entrance. He’s been trying to take in what happened at the end of the game. That was the first time he’s thought about the little girl – his little girl – since being in the pit. He hasn’t stopped to process any of what happened in there, really.

He got to see his father again, his biological father. And that was as amazing as it was trippy. He got to ask for his forgiveness, though. Something he’s always yearned for yet felt he was undeserving of. He’d lost his way and become someone he didn’t like, someone he though his dad would be ashamed of. But his dad forgave him so freely. And Dick got to hear him say he loved him one last time. He’ll cherish that forever.

Then there’s her. His daughter. His and Kory’s daughter. Dick still can’t wrap his head around that thought. Because as of now, the two of them aren’t together. They chose to put what they had on hold and have been best friends and partners ever since. He loves their relationship. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want more.

Kory watches Dick from across the room. She can tell his mind is moving a mile a minute. She wonders what he saw to make his whole mood change like that. They were having so much fun together, laughing and teasing each other. It’s the lightest she’s seen Dick in a while, and felt herself in months. She wants to go back to that feeling. So, she’s going to try and fix things the best way she knows how: with charm and a sprinkle of humor. Dick is taken out of his daze by Kory’s velvety voice.

“I come bearing gifts,” she announces as she approaches with two bottles of water and a bag of fresh popcorn in hand. She takes a seat next to him.

“Thanks,” he says taking one of the bottles from her.

A large grin spreads across her face. “I did some thinking, and since you guys lost so bad, you deserve some grace. So, you don’t have to get me any donuts.”

“Sounds good,” he replies flatly.

That’s it. That’s all he gives her. She feels frustration build in her body, but soothes it with a deep breath.

For the next few minutes they sit in silence, drinking their waters and sharing the bag of popcorn. They watch Rachel and Gar laugh and cheer as they play pinball; and Conner coach Tim on how to hit the boxing machine with optimal force. It’s Kory who speaks first.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly, the concerned look from earlier returning to her face.

He offers her a watery smile. “Yea. I’m good.”

“Now say it like you actually believe it.”

“Kory...”

“Something happened, Dick. I saw it. It’s like you froze up there.”

He sighs, knowing he can’t evade this conversation. But he can’t tell her exactly what he saw. Their daughter who doesn’t even exist yet. That would be crazy. So, he settles on a vaguer answer.

“I just... it was a memory...it hit me in that moment. That’s all.”

Kory peers at him then. Dick assumes she’s searching his eyes for any ounce of truth in his statement. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she turns her gaze to the floor.

“Was it...was it about dying?” she asks, her voice so small he almost doesn’t hear her.

The question surprises him. They haven’t talked about it since it happened. He died. Shot in the neck by a random kid on the street. It’s a sore subject for both of them. And he’d rather forget about it if he’s being honest. But obviously, he knows that’s not possible.

“Something like that,” he replies, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Silence consumes them again. The air heavy from their conversation. They go back to watching the younger Titans. About five more minutes go by and Dick is searching for something to say, something to ease Kory’s mind and allow them to go back to the fun they were having an hour ago. But he’s at a loss for words.

Just then, Dick feels Kory’s left hand slip into his right one. He turns to look at her but her eyes remain on the kids. His attention moves to their intertwined hands.

Kory doesn’t say a word. She isn’t really sure what to say either. She can’t do anything to change the memories that enter his head. She’s powerful, but not that powerful. So, she offers him what she can.

“We’ll figure it out. Together,” she says with a smile. He can feel the affection radiating from her.

“Together,” Dick nods in agreement, smiling for the first time since Kory sat down.

They don’t discuss what “it” actually is, but they don’t have to. Both of them know that whatever challenges arise, they will figure it out together. It’s been that way since the moment they met. And it’ll continue to be that way. That thought alone eases both their minds.

In that moment, Dick accepts what he’s known for a long time. He loves her. Dick Grayson loves Kory Anders. And what he saw in the pit supports these feelings. Because he’s never wanted anything more than he wants that adorable little girl to be real. For him and Kory to have a future together. He’s scared, though. Of messing things up, of things not working out, of losing her forever. But after dying and being resurrected, he promised himself he wouldn’t take things for granted anymore. That he would get his priorities straight. And Kory is a priority to him. Having her by his side has been monumental in his growth. She met him at what he knows was his worst, and yet she never turned away. Kory challenged him to be better. And he is who he is because of that help. He hasn’t been the best at showing or telling her this, he knows. But it’s a goal for him now. To appreciate her more and make her happy. Always.

A loud bang brings their attention back to the arcade area. Conner and Tim are both looking around like deer in headlights. From the looks of it, they’ve managed to knock the punching bag from the boxing machine off its hinges.

Kory can only shake her head, reluctantly letting go of Dick’s hand. “Looks like our geniuses have gotten themselves into trouble. You bribe the clerk and I’ll get them to the RV?”

“Yep,” Dick sighs. These kids really know how to ruin a good moment.

He watches Kory walk away. And he can’t help but smile again. There are still a lot of things that need to be worked out and talked through. But for the first time in a long time Dick feels confident about the future. Not only about who he’s becoming both as an individual and a vigilante, but also about the relationships he’s formed and where they’re headed. And it’s a great feeling.

He knew bowling was a good idea.

[elocinnicole]

A New Year’s Kiss

Summary: Daveed plans to propose to Reader on her favorite holiday as he prepares the night before the proposal he thinks back through memories of their three-year relationship.

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

AN: I’m giving the sisters names since the Reader comes from a big family.

Series Masterlist

It was a cold night in New York City, you sat in the living room of your new three-bedroom apartment sipping on a cup of hot ginger tea. Daniel crawled all over the place, loving the ample amount of space he had to chase the new family dog, Rocky, a Beagle puppy. Daniel’s laughter made you smile widely; you loved the life you and Daveed built for yourselves. The new apartment was coming along nicely, you finally unpacked the last of the boxes, thus ending the living out of a box phase. You decorated the walls with pictures of family and friends, there’s even a wall dedicated to the tv shows, movies, plays, and musicals the two of you have been in. Even though you truly think that it was Daveed’s way to brag about your accomplishments every time someone came over to visit, despite the many times he denied it. The sound of the front door opening alerted Daniel that Daveed was home, he crawled to the front of the apartment, screaming at the top of his lungs. Daveed scooped Daniel and kissed the top of his head where his curly dark brown hair was starting to grow.

“Hey, little man! Where’s Mommy?” Daniel pointed toward the living room. Daveed walked over and plopped down next to you. You shared a quick kiss before Daniel slid himself out of Daveed’s lap to keep playing with Rocky.

“How was your day?” Daveed asked he wrapped an arm around you to pull you close to him.

“It was fine, just like the first day of rehearsals.” After being in The Lion King for about three months, you landed the lead role in a new musical called WET PAINT. “We start previews at the end of February. How was it with Anthony?”

“It was great, babe. We got the song done Rafa’s gonna send in his verse tomorrow.”

“That—” Then there were several loud knocks at the door

“You expecting company?”

“Remember my mom and sisters are coming up for New Years,” You hopped off the couch and greeted your family at the door, they were staying at a hotel not far from your apartment and you planned for them to come over and visit since your sisters haven’t seen Daniel since he was born.

“Hey Mom,” You pulled your mom in for a hug

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Come in guys,” Your mom and three sisters walked into your apartment,

“Where’s my grandson?” Your mom wondered loudly

“Nana!” Just like that Daniel made his way over to your mom who swooped down to pick him up.

“Hi, Nana’s baby, Y/N, I love the new place.” Your mom said as everyone followed you into the kitchen.

“Thanks, we needed more space, with Daniel getting bigger and having a dog.”

“Is there any other reason why you and Daveed needed more space?” Your oldest sister, Fatima, playfully suggested

“Um, girl no, Daniel isn’t even one yet. I’m just getting back to my pre-baby body. Oh, by the way, can you re-dip my braids tonight?”

“I was gonna offer but I didn’t want to be rude,” Fatima teased

“Shut up, rude ass.”

“So,” your older sister, Mara started “have you thought about having another baby?”

“I mean, yeah but not anytime soon.”

“What about marriage?” Your other sister, Kalani, added

“It’s been discussed, we both know we’re in this for the long haul.”

“Wedding bells may be in your near future,” Mara teased

“Can we wait a minute, we just moved, Daniel’s about to turn one, I just went back to work, I need some more time.”

“Girl, you waited three years, how much longer?” Fatima reasoned

“Why are you guys interrogating me?” You asked overwhelmed knowing that Daveed was well within earshot.

“Alright, alright, we’ll leave you alone, come on and let me fix your hair.”

Your sisters and mom ended up staying well past dinner and you didn’t mind it one minute. After graduating from Howard University, you moved to New York and didn’t look back. The last time you saw your sisters, in person, was at your baby shower and that was a year ago. After eating the crab cakes your Mom made and about three glasses of Merlot, you currently playing Black Card Revoked with your sisters, one of your favorite games, India Aire playing in the background.

“Okay, so this is majority rules, ‘You know it’s about to be a fight when you hear someone say? A. We need to talk… B. I just find it funny how… C. So what you not gonna do… or D. Didn’t I tell you…’” Fatima read

“C!” You said confidently, “That’s how all my fights started in high school.

“Naw I gotta go with D,” Mara shouted “D is one of them sneak attacks from behind.”

“Like that time, you grabbed that girl’s hair,” Kalani reminisced

“Yeah, she was bothering Y/N, and I was the only one in high school with her and I was not gonna let some bitch mess with my sister.”

“And that’s on period,” Fatima said

“Pooh!” Kalani added, making the sisters laugh

Daveed noticed your mom in the kitchen washing the dishes and saw it as the perfect opportunity.

“Hey, Daveed, sorry about the wedding talk with my daughters. I promise I didn’t say anything to them.” Your mom said in hushed tones

“It’s okay, I just wanted to show you a picture of the ring,” Daveed pulled out his phone and showed your mother the engagement ring. Shortly after you had Daniel, Daveed came to your mother and asked for her blessing, of course, she agreed and helped him find the perfect ring and the way he should propose. Knowing you were a private person he was going to give you a gift after midnight when everyone left your place, a photo album and on the last page, he was going to pop the question.

“It’s beautiful Daveed, where is it?”

“I keep it on me at all times,” Daveed pulled the engagement box out of his pocket.

“Is that what I think it is?” Fatima gushed

“Shush, get over here girl.” Your mother urged “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the living room, so you’re gonna propose?”

“Yeah,” Daveed said quietly “tomorrow.”

“Aw, I’m so happy for you two, how are you gonna propose?”

“With a photo album,” Daveed replied a small smile on his face

“Oooohhhh, I can’t wait,” Fatima said clapping her hands together

“Fatima it’s your turn and you about to get skipped!” You shouted from the living room

“Girl, skip me I’m winning anyway,” Fatima said walking back over

Daveed sat in the living room long after you had fallen asleep and your mom and sisters went back to their hotel. He was going over the photo album to make sure that everything was perfect for tomorrow. The first picture he came across was from the opening night party of the First National Tour of Hamilton, which is where the two of you met. After consuming many drinks from the open bar the two of you snapped a very drunk selfie. Daveed had kissed your cheek and you were laughing.

March 2017

After you spilled your wine on Daveed, it seemed the two of you were attached at the hip. Between the bar and the dance floor, Daveed was not far from you and you didn’t mind at all. There was a lavish balcony looking over San Francisco, you and Daveed were laughing at a high school story you were telling him.

“So, the girlfriend started hitting the boyfriend mind you, we’re all in line for the Haunted Mansion ride and it got so bad that we were told to get out of line, so I never got to ride the Haunted Mansion. Long story short, my first and only trip to Disneyland before all of this was pretty bad.”

“Well, that just means we have to go back.”

“When?”

“Whenever,”

“Daveed, we can’t just drive to Disneyland and I don’t know you like that.”

“We can fly, that’s not a problem.”

“Did you forget that I’m on a tour right now?”

“Ain’t y’all here until August.”

“Well, I still don’t know you.”

“You can get to know me.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You challenged

“I can get us Fast Passes.”

“Oh, so you got it like that?” You teased flirtatiously

“Yeah, uh, I got some connections,” Daveed smirked

“Alright, let’s go.”

“It’s a date,” Daveed smiled

“It’s a date.”

The next picture was a picture Jasmine took of them at an award show, that night you said I love you to each other for the first time.

June 2018

You and Daveed had attended your first red carpet event of the award season that evening. It was also the first time you were at an exclusive event as a couple. The paparazzi went crazy all of them wanting to snap pictures of Daveed and his new girlfriend. It was all overwhelming to you. Of course, you have been on a red carpet before but not for an award show. While it was exciting it was also draining. Unfortunately, you had to leave that night to go back to New York you had a show the next day, what made it worse, was that Daveed had to stay in LA for an interview about Blindspotting. Now at the airport, you hugged your boyfriend tightly not wanting to let go.

“You gonna miss your flight,” He mumbled into the crook of your neck.

“I don’t care,” You said, tiredness evident in your voice.

“It’s only two days, go make that money,” Daveed said trying to lift your spirits. Daveed cupped your face and kissed you on the lips.

“I love you,” He said tenderly, you looked at him wide-eyed. He mentally slapped himself for saying that out loud. He scanned your face for any sign that you would say it back. When he didn’t he pulled away from you, suddenly.

“Sorry, for saying that, uh—-”

“Daveed—-”

“I um, I hope you have a safe flight. Call me when you land.” Daveed said quickly, wanting to end the already awkward moment. He turned to walk away but you grabbed his arm and pulled him in for another kiss.

“You didn’t let me say it back, dork.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips “I love you too,” Daveed smiled widely and kissed you once more.

“Can you say it again?” You playfully rolled your eyes

“I love you too.” Daveed leaned in to kiss you but you put up your hand to stop him

“I’m gonna miss my flight, messing with you. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

January 2019

“Happy New Year!!” You smiled while you kissed Daveed. The two of you were hosting a New Year’s Eve party for your friends at Daveed’s New York apartment. This was the first big event the two of you hosted. Well, it was mainly you, Daveed just let you do your thing. You pulled away from the kiss and raised an eyebrow, you know that there was something was on his mind.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You should move in with me.”

“Huh? How much have you had to drink?” You asked but you were just as tipsy after taking quite a few shots out the Grammy.

“Not as much as you.” You lightly slapped his chest you examined his face to make sure he wasn’t playing a joke

“You serious?”

“Hella,”

“Aw, so I’m gonna have more than a drawer.” Daveed playfully rolled his eyes

“You can have a whole dresser,” You gave a peck on the cheek, smiling widely.

“I love you,”

“Love you too.”

The next day, Daveed did his best to keep his cool which was easy because your sisters, Mom, Jasmine, Kim, Rafael, Barbara, and Dountes were all at your place for New Year's Eve and served as the perfect distraction. Anthony was in Times Square performing on the Main Stage and would be the last act before the ball dropped so you decided to host a party.

You caught Daveed staring, smirking you walked over to him. You were wearing a brown bodycon dress and matching heels. Feeling the effects of the alcohol had you feeling more confident. You sensually wrapped your arms around Daveed making sure to caress his muscles.

“We have some time before midnight,” you suggested Daveed smirked and kissed your forehead.

“With your Mom here?” Daveed asked with raised eyebrows.

“I can be quiet,”

“After everyone’s gone. So we don’t have to worry about being quiet.” You pouted which made Daveed snicker.

“It’s shot o’clock!” Your sister Mara called from the kitchen

“Oh, so we doing body shots?” Rafael suggested eying your sister.

“Body shots?” Fatima questioned

“I’m down,” Mara responded giving Rafael the same look.

“No one is down for anything, this is not some frat party.”

“How much you wanna bet, Rafa’s gonna—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, I don’t need the visual.”

Midnight came and went and Daveed’s nervousness was at an all-time high. He watched as your guests left one by one. Neither of you were surprised when Mara and Rafa slipped away shortly after the ball dropped. Surprisingly, Daniel stayed up until the ball dropped, but went to sleep shortly after.

“I’m about to go change so we can start cleaning up.”

“Hold on, I wanna give you something first,” Daveed said you sighed heavily.

“Babe, can you give it to me after I change? I wanna get out my shoes.”

“It’s not gonna take long. I promise, go in the living room.”

You sleepily walked back to the living room and plopped down on the sofa, whatever Daveed had up his sleeve better be worth it. Daveed returned with a purple photo album in hand and handed it to you.

“What’s this?”

“Just some pictures, something I put together.” You smiled, tears threatening to fall.

“Aw, you’re so sweet, thank you so much, baby.”You kissed his cheek before looking through the album and reacting to the pictures. It was so crazy to see the timeline of your relationship, who would’ve thought that back in 2017 you would be where the two of you are now.

You flipped through the album until you got to the last page. It was an empty page and dated for today. Confused you turned to look at Daveed only to find him already on bended knee with a ring box in hand. You covered your face as the tears started falling. Daveed gently removed your hands from your face. You saw that he was holding back tears as well.

“When you purposely split your wine on me—”

“Oh my gosh, Daveed!”

“I knew you were something special the first time I laid my eyes on you. Baby, you are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of it with you. I kept going over what I was gonna say or how I wanted to do this. I wanted it to be perfect because you deserve nothing but perfection. I love you so much. Will you marry me?” You were full-on crying at this point. The album already made you emotional but, the both of you had discussed marriage but still, this proposal is everything you’ve could‘ve dreamed of.

“Yes, yes of course.” Daveed slid the ring onto your ring finger and you pulled him in for a kiss. This is always how you imagine your engagement would be, just you and your fiancé.

[rockislandadultreads]

Mysteries, But Set in the Past: a list

Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James 

A rare meeting of literary genius: P. D. James, long among the most admired mystery writers of our time, draws the characters of Jane Austen’s beloved novel Pride and Prejudice into a tale of murder and emotional mayhem. It is 1803, six years since Elizabeth and Darcy embarked on their life together at Pemberley, Darcy’s magnificent estate. Their peaceful, orderly world seems almost unassailable. Elizabeth has found her footing as the chatelaine of the great house. They have two fine sons, Fitzwilliam and Charles. Elizabeth’s sister Jane and her husband, Bingley, live nearby; her father visits often; there is optimistic talk about the prospects of marriage for Darcy’s sister Georgiana. And preparations are under way for their much-anticipated annual autumn ball. Then, on the eve of the ball, the patrician idyll is shattered. A coach careens up the drive carrying Lydia, Elizabeth’s disgraced sister, who with her husband, the very dubious Wickham, has been banned from Pemberley. She stumbles out of the carriage, hysterical, shrieking that Wickham has been murdered. With shocking suddenness, Pemberley is plunged into a frightening mystery. Inspired by a lifelong passion for Austen, P. D. James masterfully re-creates the world of Pride and Prejudice, electrifying it with the excitement and suspense of a brilliantly crafted crime story, as only she can write it.

Garden of Lies by Amanda Quick

The Kern Secretarial Agency provides reliable professional services to its wealthy clientele, and Anne Clifton was one of the finest women in Ursula Kern’s employ. But Miss Clifton has met an untimely end—and Ursula is convinced it was not due to natural causes. Archaeologist and adventurer Slater Roxton thinks Mrs. Kern is off her head to meddle in such dangerous business. Nevertheless, he seems sensible enough to Ursula, though she does find herself unnerved by his self-possession and unreadable green-gold eyes… If this mysterious widowed beauty insists on stirring the pot, Slater intends to remain close by as they venture into the dark side of polite society. Together they must reveal the identity of a killer—and to achieve their goal they may need to reveal their deepest secrets to each other as well…

Above the Bay of Angels by Rhys Bowen

Isabella Waverly only means to comfort the woman felled on a London street. In her final dying moments, she thrusts a letter into Bella’s hand. It’s an offer of employment in the kitchens of Buckingham Palace, and everything the budding young chef desperately wants: an escape from the constrictions of her life as a lowly servant. In the stranger’s stead, Bella can spread her wings.

Arriving as Helen Barton from Yorkshire, she pursues her passion for creating culinary delights, served to the delighted Queen Victoria herself. Best of all, she’s been chosen to accompany the queen to Nice. What fortune! Until the threat of blackmail shadows Bella to the Riviera, and a member of the queen’s retinue falls ill and dies.

Having prepared the royal guest’s last meal, Bella is suspected of the poisonous crime. An investigation is sure to follow. Her charade will be over. And her new life will come crashing down—if it doesn’t send her to the gallows.

Frog Music by Emma Donoghue

Summer of 1876: San Francisco is in the fierce grip of a record-breaking heat wave and a smallpox epidemic. Through the window of a railroad saloon, a young woman named Jenny Bonnet is shot dead. The survivor, her friend Blanche Beunon, is a French burlesque dancer. Over the next three days, she will risk everything to bring Jenny's murderer to justice--if he doesn't track her down first. The story Blanche struggles to piece together is one of free-love bohemians, desperate paupers, and arrogant millionaires; of jealous men, icy women, and damaged children. It's the secret life of Jenny herself, a notorious character who breaks the law every morning by getting dressed: a charmer as slippery as the frogs she hunts. In thrilling, cinematic style, FROG MUSIC digs up a long-forgotten, never-solved crime. Full of songs that migrated across the world, Emma Donoghue's lyrical tale of love and bloodshed among lowlifes captures the pulse of a boomtown like no other.

[zoocross0vers]

ZOOTOPIAN SONIC THE HEDGEHOG BRAINSTORM TIME DAY 3

CHARACTERS AND CHARACTER ROLES

The Heroes Concept

Sorry for delay but I finally showing topic that what character would fit into character and how their roles would look like (I explain in here)

As an example let’s start with main cast:

Sonic as Sonic - since he’s the main character of the story there’s no need to change his character role since those are key-important for the plot like in movie

(here’s his profile just in case: https://sonic.fandom.com/wiki/Sonic_the_Hedgehog_(Paramount)#Cast_)

The only in his case would be the change of place and  comunity: he’s in world of anthromophic mammals with no powers and certain prejudices and stereotypes, and sometimes certain paranoias, which that makes his anxietes harder since he is also a mammal/hedgehog but still different: blue, prefers shoes, glowes instead of clothes and has powers. And it could be possibility that when he arrived on Zootopia (not sure how if their planet is called Earth or not) the missing mammal case was happening and distrust towards mammals was growing, give him reason to not show up after what happened last time. There could be also small possibility he helped stopped the Bellwether takeover although unknowingly (or maybe not? who knows) and some two pair of eyes probably might noticed him even briefly though if you know what I mean. But for the record he decided to hide in Green Hills where he meet Nick and Judy and you know the rest.

Nick Wilde as Tom Wachowski

Tom personality

Kind-hearted and hard-working, Tom actively pursues the chance to help other people and is dedicated to his duty as Green Hills’s sheriff. He is very brave and is not afraid to get physical if the need arises and is protective of those he cares about. Despite his sharp tongue and an occasionally dark sense of humor, he is very sweet and gentle and frequently goes out of his way to assist others. Tom enjoys telling corny jokes, whether he is alone or with company. According to Sonic, Tom often talks with donuts and eats them if they “do not listen him”.

He dislikes boredom to the point that Green Hills’ lack of action nearly drives him out of his hometown to pursue work in San Fransisco. Tom shows open skepticism when presented with a situation that seems odd or fabricated, such as when he first met Dr. Robotnik. Although Tom is not afraid to fight, he prefers to avoid resorting to violence, shown when he tried to leave the Piston Pit when confronted by angry bar patrons.

Nick personality

https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Nick_Wilde

Since those two are pretty much different when it comes certain things but have still lot in common like bad pun jokes and sense for justice.

It was not easy to make it right. I wanted him fit into Tom’s role but also keep his Wilde charm he has. Thankfully I was able to do right somehow so here it is:

Nick was actually born in Green Hills and was friend with Judy Hopps in childhood after incident with Gideon, but after incident with Ranger Scouts where she was present in this case ashamed for certain actions he decided to move (or run away) to Zootopia to live as shifty fox, unaware of him been targeted by Bellwether. But Judy whose also decided to study in Zootopia find and trying to make up to him and bring him back to Green Hills. After studying, while dating, they return to Green Hills get married and Nick follows footstep to became sheriff be a better person (unaware of him also been followed by small certain blue guardian: take a hint of what I mean by it). After hearing of Bellwether case he wants to try be a cop in Zootopia to find a purpose (instead just leave Green Hills out of boredoom he wants to prove himself be better). He sympatize with Sonic more since he knows what is like to feared of what you are and been haunted by a past. I still need to work on that.

Judy Hopps as Maddie Wachowski

Maddie Personality

As a veterinarian, Maddie cares deeply about living creatures and enjoys helping them to heal. She scolds Tom not to shoot the raccoons that get into their trash with her dart gun and gets annoyed with him when she finds out he shot Sonic with it. She also shows sympathy for Sonic when she sees that his feet hurt because he wore through his sneakers. She works well under-pressure and shows emotional and intellectual maturity. She is very loving and supportive of her husband. She made him a cake to congratulate him in case he got the job he wanted in San Francisco and another cake in case he did not get it. She also tells him that since he has made sacrifices for her, she is happy to sacrifice for him.

Judy Personality

https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Judy_Hopps

They sure have more in common aside for job. She cares for her husband since childhood despite of what happened, she even go after him to make up to him, save him from wrong path and ask for forgiveness, since she feels responsible for it, even though none of both was fault. She was born in Bunnyburrow but always visited her relatives from mothers side in Green Hills where she also first met Nick (inspired by my life, I really love to visit my relatives) She wanted to be cop but could not, but also found a passion in medicine and that is why she became vet after she moved in Green Hills with Nick (those two make a really great team, also it is nice callback from concept of Zistopia where Nick pretented to be vet). She also shows connection with Sonic and in this case has less problems with his “nudity” considering she always has to check her patients without clothes. (trust me I know what I talking about)

Again still need to work on that. I hope you help me grinding with this. For now that is all but I promise there will be more. Also think you can pictures on those description since I dont know how to do that along with your opinions? (you can use my drawing for that if you want ;-D)

And also:

HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSARY ZOOTOPIA

...

Hi Guest! I’m so sorry for taking forever to get back to you on this. Hope you had a great 5th Zootopia Anniversary! I watched the movie again that day and even after 5 years, I still love that movie!!! <3 <3 <3 

But anyhoo, on to this lovely Sonic crossover!

When it comes to the setting, do you think Green Hills should actually be BunnyBurrow? Or do you want Green Hills to remain it’s own thing?

I guess I ask because the way Nick is being set up, he kind of reminds me of this one fic that Helthehatter wrote called, “Blueberries”, where it’s an alternate story of how Nick and Judy met. In that fic, Nick is a deputy in BunnyBurrow and his police partner is Finnick and Nick is pretty bored because not much happens in a small town like BunnyBurrow (that is until he meets Judy, who never became a cop before meeting him). 

I picture Nick would be something like this where he and Judy weren’t the ones who solved the Bellwether and Nighthowlers case, but Jack and Skye. And he wants to have an exciting adventure like that and be a hero, do something important, but nothing ever happens in BunnyBurrow/Green Hills. 

I could still see Judy being his partner on the force, but unlike him, she’s actually pretty content being a cop in a small town. Though, if you like the idea of her being a vet better for this then I could work with that ^^

Personality wise it shouldn’t be too hard to give the characters similar traits since they seem to have enough in common. 

Would it be okay if Judy does at least try to get Sonic to wear some clothes, it still feels like something she would do, lol! ^^” But of course, in a nice understanding way rather than in a panicky manner.

When it comes to Sonic, rather than Nick just forming a sort of best friendship with him, maybe Sonic can kind of look up to him and Judy like parents? I mean, Sonic is still a teenager and Nick and Judy are full grown adults. That way at the end, he really is joining a new family. :)

I think I like the idea of this Nick having been born in Green Hills/Bunny Burrow rather than Zootopia, because that makes his desire for a new and bigger setting more important. If he grew up in Zootopia, left it, then wants to go back to it, then it kind of takes away that feeling of wanting more.

In regards to Sonic, maybe he decided to hide not just because he’s a blue hedgehog, bust also because he’s basically walking around naked and maybe when he first showed up he walked like that in front of some old ladies and he scared them. Ever since then he decided to observe the animals from afar. It’d be a good reason too why he had a disguise too. Here not to blend in as a human, but simply to cover himself up?

I say let’s just call the Zootopia world Earth. It’s easier ^^

Not sure yet, if Sonic should’ve had an active role in the nighthowler incident, but maybe he did manage to see the fear and chaos it caused in animals via Nick and Judy’s TV and by observing animals from afar. If he did decide to help solve it though, maybe he probably just helped Jack and Skye grab the concentrated pellet and handed it to them like a blue blurr and then with that evidence in their grasp, it proved enough to arrest Bellwether and they got the credit since nobody saw him.

This is all I got so far. Does this work for you? Is there more you’d like to add or change?

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Graduated - Gerard Way x Reader

Summary: The reader finally gets to graduate university and gets a little surprise from her boyfriend

Reader: female

Warnings: I wrote this for my friend, so this might be very specific (and exaggerated)…, not properly proof read :/

Word count: 2 384

A/N: I know I exaggerated some of the parts in here, and the person who this is for knows it’s for her, but I wrote it the way I imagine it must have felt like sometimes. I’m so fucking proud of you, sweetie.

Impatiently you shifted around on your chair. It was a nice chair, no reason to complain, but truth be told, you didn’t want to be here, not anymore. You were done here. All you really wanted was go home and video-call your boyfriend for as long as possible until he had to hang up.

But here you were, listening to the university’s dean’s speech in which you took no interest. Maybe you should have, after all this was your graduation ceremony, but you had already gotten your certificate, and now you wanted nothing but leave this part of your life behind.

Sure, time at uni had been fun. Sometimes. You had met a bunch of cool people who you enjoyed hanging out with, you had spent afternoons sitting in cafés with them, procrastinating the inevitable studying together, you had gone to parties and met more people, but in the end you had never really become as close with any of them as you would have wanted. Maybe because they wanted to be there, wanted to study architecture, and you just did it in order not to get into trouble with your parents.

How many times you had wanted to give everything up! How many times you thought about just throwing it all in the wind and run away, go on tour with your boyfriend who was playing in a band, just leave this godforsaken city behind!

It had not always been this bad, but the stress and anxiety had worn you out over the years, had caused burn out, or depression, or whatever you wanna call it. Not that anyone cared. Not until Gerard had come back into your life.

You had known him and Ray from school, had always been friends with them, even though they were a couple of years older than you. But as soon as Gerard’s brother Mikey had graduated high school the same year as you, they had piled into a van together with a guy called Frank (who now was just as much your friend as the rest of them), and had driven off into the sunset to make their dream of being a punk band into reality. Of course they had asked you to join them. And you had wanted to say yes so badly. But you knew that if you had done that, your parents would have never talked to you again, and so you had bowed to your parents wish and gone to university to study architecture, even though you never had really wanted that.

It had taken almost two years before your friends had finally been back in town, and those four weeks in the summer holidays had been the best four weeks of your life. You had hung out with them all the time, had made music, taken pictures of them, helped bring a huge art project to life… and you had gotten together with Gerard. He had always been the one you had felt drawn to the most, always been the one you had called first when you had good news to share. And between band practice, drawing comics and staring at you, he somehow had managed to tell you that for years he had felt the same way for you as you felt for him.

That had been almost two years ago now, although it hardly felt like that long. Soon after that summer the band had gone on tour again, and Gerard was only home a couple of weeks a year. Most of the time you hardly noticed, except for in the evenings, when the stress of the day finally stepped into the background, and you had a few hours to your own thoughts. Those were the moments you missed him. Often he called you after shows, talking for hours until he realised you had to get up in the morning, and sent you to bed with a chuckle and an “I love you”. In those two years, in which you had been together, you had only spent about three months in the same city. The last time you had seen him was over three months ago. And how you missed him!

You glanced over to where the girls sat, that usually had spent their lunchbreaks with you. They were surrounded by their families. One was arm in arm with her boyfriend. You quickly turned to look away. You would see Gerard soon. After this weekend, right on Monday morning, you had booked a flight out to L.A. where MCR would play a show that evening, and then you would accompany them on the rest of the tour. You had been hesitant about that at first, when Gerard had suggested it, but you had never been on tour with them, and you really missed Gerard, and judging by the sound of his voice over the phone, he missed you too.

‘Just two more days,’ you told yourself, and tried to focus back on the dean’s speech.

Luckily the dean did not talk for a long time after that, and when he was finished, your favourite professor jumped on stage to announce that there was a buffet for everyone to have some snacks before sending you off into life.

With a sigh you got up. You felt stiff after all the sitting, as if you had not sat for long enough during your time at university. You made way for some elderly couple who seemed to be the grandparents of one of your fellow classmates, and huffed at the memory of your parents telling you, they would not be in town for your graduation. It felt like you had done these four years of psycho terror for nothing, although Gerard had always told you that you needed to finish this degree or you would have thrown away four years of your life. Maybe he had been right, thinking about quitting two months before the final exam would have probably been something you would later regret. And this way you had at least something that proved you had learnt anything at all.

Once you had made your way out of the maze of chairs, you wondered whether you should join the others by the buffet. Scanning the crowd, you realized that they all seemed to be talking to someone already, and you would have felt like an intruder if you had walked over now. So instead you brushed your hair out of your eyes, and turned around, promptly bumping into someone carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. Quickly excusing yourself, you stepped to the side, but then you saw the face of the person who held the flowers, and almost would have gotten a heart attack. Tears shot into your eyes as you stared at this so familiar face while a smile spread over Gerard’s face at seeing your reaction.

Opening his arms, he allowed you to fall against him, wrapping him in a hug, and burying your face against his neck. Gently he closed his arms around you, not as hard as he would have wanted to, but he tried really hard not to ruin the flowers he was still holding.

“Congratulations, baby,” he whispered against your ear, and you quickly turned your head, and pecked his lips before pulling away, and whipping tears of your cheeks.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in San Francisco,” you almost shouted, playfully shoving him, while you felt tears rise again.

“Couldn’t just miss my girl graduating,” he grinned, “not after all the shit you’ve been through just for this.”

“I fucking love you, you know that,” you sobbed, not caring about the tears anymore. Who cared about make-up anyway?

“I should hope so, otherwise the red roses here would be embarrassing,” he laughed, and handed you the bouquet of sunflowers, daisies and a couple of red roses.

“There you are!”

Before you could thank Gerard, Ray and Mikey pushed through the crowd.

“Gerard just stormed off,” Mikey complained.

Wide eyed you stared at them.

“You’re here too,” you exclaimed, and quickly went to hug Mikey and Ray tightly.

“We’re all here,” Mikey explained, “Frank’s just over there, at the buffet.”

“Where else,” you rolled your eyes, and felt another wave of tears burning in your eyes. “You have no idea how much I love all of you.”

Not knowing what to do with yourself you turned back to Gerard, and hugged him, hiding your face against his chest, making him giggle and wrap his arms around you protectively.

“Oh, we brought chocolates, lemonade and some cake too,” Ray remembered, “but the stuff’s still in the car outside.”

“We didn’t want to burst in here with all the food, in case someone has the idea to ask for some of it,” Mikey explained, making you laugh a little, but you did not move away from Gerard.

“Guys, these tomato bruschetta are excellent,” a familiar voice announced, “Here I brought some. Take them quickly; this old lady is already giving me death glares.”

Laughing you finally pulled away from Gerard, and turned to Frank, who had joined you, balancing several of the tiny breads on one of his hands, holding them out to everyone. Like the others you took one, and waited until Frank’s hand was finally free before hugging him too.

“Thank you for coming here,” you laughed as you let him go again.

“Sure, I mean it’s not like Gee gave us a choice,” Frank shrugged, but his eyes gave away how happy he was to be here, too.

“And by the way, the old lady is one of my former teachers,” you let him know, nodding into the direction of a white haired woman who was watching the five of you closely.

“Ah well, you’re not her student anymore,” Frank grinned.

“You’re right. And that means I also have absolutely no business still being here,” you decided, “Let’s get out of here.”

“But the buffet- ! They have tiramisu,” Frank whined.

“You can do whatever you want, Frankie,” you laughed, “but I’ve been stuck here for long enough. Four years of my life wasted on finishing a degree I never wanted. It’s time I get out.”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Gerard agreed and kissed your hair. “Like Ray said, we brought cake and lemonade. We could drive down to the lake and have a picnic there.”

“Aw, a picnic sounds absolutely perfect right now,” you nodded enthusiastically, and allowed Gerard to slip his hand into your free one.

“We’ll make quite a sight, down there between all these teenagers, while we’re all dressed up,” Mikey giggled following Gerard and you, who lead the way through the hall.

Looking over your shoulder you realised he was right. All of the men were wearing either dark jeans or dress pants, and dress shirts. Mikey was even wearing a tie. And you were dressed in an elegant skirt with a cute blouse and a cardigan. You really would stick out between the high schoolers who were doubtlessly hanging out at the lake around this time on a Friday afternoon.

“And after the picnic, I thought the five of us could commemorate the good old times by grabbing pizza over at Giovanni’s,” Gerard continued making plans, causing Frank to cheer quietly at the prospect of getting some tiramisu there.

You turned your head to look at him, and found he was already looking for your reaction.

“What are you trying to do,” you wondered, “Flowers, picknick, pizza,… you don’t need to convince me you’d be a great boyfriend, I already know that.”

“Hey! I just wanna spoil you,” Gerard defended, “We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you’ve just graduated, so I think I should be allowed to spoil you.”

You let go of his hand, and instead wrapped your arm around his back, which caused him to chuckle, and wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

“What about L.A., is that still on,” you wondered, as you stepped from the crowded hall into the emptier hallway that lead to the main entrance of the building.

“Of course it is. We managed to schedule the shows so we got today and the weekend of, but the L.A. show on Monday is still on as planned,” Ray explained from behind you.

“And I still hope you’ll come with us,” Gerard added, looking down to you expectantly.

“Not like we’d give you much of a choice,” Mikey added, before you could even answer.

“He’s right, we can’t have Gerard mopping around because he misses you so much for another two months,” Frank agreed.

“I wasn’t mopping!”

“Yes, you were!”

“Oh, you were!”

“Nooo, not at all!”

All his bandmates spoke at once, making you laugh.

“It really seems like I have no choice, do I,” you giggled, linking your thumb into one of the belt loops on Gerard’s trousers.

“No, you don’t,” Gerard agreed, and nuzzled his nose into your hair.

Pushing open the heavy door to the old building, the five of you stepped out of the university into the warm light of the afternoon sun. Stopping in your tracks you leant your head back a little, and felt how the sunbeams warmed up your face. Taking a deep breath, and closing your fingers around the bouquet Gerard had given you, you opened your eyes again. Realisation washed over you; you were free. For four years you had fought your way through the system, just to please your parents, and now you were free. If these four years had taught you anything, then that you would never be happy if you always did what others expected you to do. You needed to do what you wanted to do. The long term plan? No idea. The intermediate plan? Go on tour with the boys. Actually you could maybe do that as a long term plan, too. But right now? Picnic and pizza with Gerard.

“Everything alright?”

You turned your head and looked into hazel green eyes that worriedly glanced down to you.

“Yeah, yes. Actually. I’m just- I’m happy.”

Gerard smiled and leant down to kiss you quickly before the others called for you.

“Let’s go,” he grinned, and arm in arm you followed your friends to the van.

Taglist (if you want to be added or taken off, please let me know):

General: @justawriterinprogress @robinruns @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrosty @butterfly-writes @angelevansfalls @rene-royale @starduststyx

MCR: @deadlovers

[wherearemyglassesbro]

So uhhhh lawyer au. Who's locked up and why? (like Prussia) Also are there any characters who have side jobs that come into play even if they're not regularly in the office or court? (like how N. Italy(?) was in charge of suits)

Yes....lawyer Au again... :D I’ve missed it

Inmate 44671-E-8: Alastair Kirkland is the eldest of the Kirkland brothers. As they grew up, he set a terrible example for his brothers. He still gets himself in trouble but is slowly trying to better himself. He’s in the middle of a four year sentence for an armed B&E, where he also injured three officers while resisting arrest. Prison isn’t very fun but he’s learning to mellow out and control his inner rage. He tries to keep in contact with Arthur but he usually refuses to see him. Ali also tried to hire Art to defend him in court but he refused then too. Ali was prosecuted by Natalya Braginsky two years ago. Arthur sat in the public viewing area with a coat and hat on so he wouldn’t be recognized. Alastair has a girlfriend who he met through a prisoner dating site but when he gets out, he plans on dumping her and moving far, far away.

Peter Kirkland: Peter’s a freshman in highschool who’s been to juvie twice, both for assault. He thinks Arthur is a kiss-ass and he thinks his delinquent brothers are awesome. He goes and sees Alastair in prison every other week and calls him from home if Ali’s alllwed to have phone time. Arthur rents a car to drive up to his family’s house every month or so just for peter, to check in on him. Peter’s an ass though. Last time Art went to see him, he hotboxed Art’s rental car and left burn marks in the car seats...on purpose. Deep down, Peter is afraid of being sent to prison for real but he craves attention. So he acts out. He’s gonna get a taste of reality soon enough...cause once he turns 16 he can be tried as an adult...Uh oh. Arthur is very worried but he doesn’t show it, instead he just yells at Peter or lectures him endlessly with his lawyer talk. Lammmeeeeee

Łukasiewicz, the magician: Feliks ‘Ken Ka-Dazzle’ Łukasiewicz is a traveling magician who won an American talent television show. He travels around Europe and the Americas to perform his act with various circuses or (occasionally) a cirque show. He had his own show in Las Vegas for a summer and performed in another casino for a few nights in the fall while another act fell ill. Feliks was suspected of robbing and killing another magician! He hired defense attorney Herdarvey(did not spell that right lmaoooo) to defend him!! His case was all over the news and people still believe he committed that murder despite the judge and jury ruling him ‘Not Guilty’ after a gruesome full three day trial. Because Eliza defended him so greatly, Feliks pays the rent for her law firm and the rent for her house! He also sends her flowers and cards often despite her husband hating it.

Firefighter Oxernstina: Tino is a firefighter! I talked about him a bit before! He was a firefighter in Finland before moving to LA with his parents! He went though the fire academy there (again) and was quickly hired by the Los Angeles fire department! He was welcomed in without a hitch!! His coworkers love working with him. Tino loves his job too, he works seven nights a month and gets paid very nicely. He loves saving people, it just!!! Makes him feel so good. He met Berwald at a city worker event and married him about a year and a half later. They’ve been married for a little over six years now and they’ve got an adopted son, Oscar, from Sweden! Tino’s side job is coaching the highschool hockey teams! He loves those kids! Berwald comes to every match he can to be supportive. He also brings Oscar to hopefully spark an interest in hockey for him

Eduardo Sousa-Carriedo: Eduardo is Antonio’s step brother. The two do NOT get along but when they’re forced to go to a family gathering, they act very friendly. Eduardo is a private investigator who works out of San Francisco. He lives there but he isn’t around much, he spends a lot of time in Brazil working for big businessmen there. It’s all under the table of course! He makes a pretty penny doing that but he doesn’t live like a rich guy. He has an average house, a nice car...he flaunts his wealth subtly. Diamond earrings, expensive watches, custom briefcases, sleeve tattoos, designer sunglasses. That kind of stuff. He has a handful of clients in Los Angeles so he’s forced to go sometimes and avoids his brother like the plague. And speaking of avoiding, he also has his ex-wife to worry about. She isn’t really tbag important though. After their bitter divorce, she’s been after him trying to get more and more money. Ugh. What a pest. Eduardo plans on moving to Brazil eventually, disappearing without a trace so she can’t find him. That’s how badly he wants her out of his life.

Angelique Dieudonne: Angelique is a casino chain owner! She has multiple locations, the biggest being in Monaco, Vegas, LA, Madrid and NYC. She’s never in one place for too long, she hops locations constantly. Many believe that she’s hosting a huge money laundering scheme but no one talks. She’s practically untouchable. She’s got a team of lawyers, social media managers and advisors on her side. She strikes down videos about her, she refuses on-the-spot interviews, makes employees sign contracts to keep them quiet. All kinds of stuff!!! She’s very powerful. She buys out casinos in popular areas and makes them her own. Her casinos are large and glamorous! Casino goers are usually too busy being drunk and feeling like royalty to realize how much money they’re REALLY spending on games. But that’s all a part of her plan. The prosecutors have a blast talking conspiracy, Ivan gets especially heated about it. He can’t wait for her downfall and claims that he’ll throw a party when she goes to prison

Gianni Vargas: Feli and Lovi’s younger brother. He’s a highschool student who works at the shop with Feli on weekends! He is not allowed to go to work with Lovi because he’s ‘hazardous’ and ‘inattentive’...which may be true. He has little interest in Lovino’s job cause he thinks working with dead people is gross. He looks up to Feliciano though! He wants to be stylish and suave like him! He plans on going into art school after he graduates. He wishes he could drop out of highschool to work in the clothing store with Feliciano but that would never be allowed!!! He goes with Feli to deliver suits so he’s a familiar face at the prosecutors office!! Francis is especially kind to him when he comes around “Awww! There’s my favorite style icon!!” It’s embarrassing but he thinks that Francis dresses cool so he puts up with it. When he turns 18, Gianni’s gonna get his own custom suit from Feli and their grandpa!! Only four more months!! He dreams of his soon to be suit every night!! The fitted pants...the padded shoulders....the fancy buttons...oh boy!!

((There are spelling errors but I am too lazy to fix them lmao sorry :) and there is more to add but I have fake nails on and it’s a muricle that ive managed to type this much haha

[nickysurfer28]

I’ve been working on this for a little bit.

Hope you like it. Be kind I’m not sure if there’s any mistakes. I try my best. Enjoy!

Summary: Dr. Nicky Ransom is on search for her lost cousin Denise Ames. She is determined to find her at all cost. But something happens along the way....

Warning: 18+ only

Chapter 1

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you look at your surroundings.

“My cousin Denise has been missing for a week now, and I’m ready to confront the man who last saw her.”

For weeks, Denise’s been dating some “mystery man” who’s been nothing but a bad influence on her. “I finally caught a glimpse of this guy at Denise’s art show last week. It was the last time anyone saw her.”

You spot him immediately. He’s in a corner booth, reading a book.

Chris “...”.

“That’s him, all right . Chris Evans, the last person who saw my cousin.”

He looks up as you approach, his brilliant blue eyes meeting yours.

Nicky spoke “ Chris Evans, I presume?”.

The man gives you a polished smile. He’s poised, his expression pleasant with a old-world kind of charm. Chris spoke “ You presume correctly.” His low, smooth voice carries a strange lilt, like a cross between an American and British accent. “What can I do for you?”.

Thinking to yourself, “I should handle this...Calmly”.

Nicky calmly answered, “ Could you please tell me where your girlfriend is?”.

“I... My girlfriend?”, Chris answer confused.

“ My cousin, Denise Ames. Where is she?”, Nicky asked.

“Wait, you say Denise missing? I...I’m afraid there must be some mistake, Miss...?, Chris still confused.

“Doctor Ransom”, Nicky answered him.

“Well, doctor, you’ve been misinformed.” Chris spoke with a stern voice.

The man sets his books down and motions for you to sit. When you don’t move, he sighs.

Chris spoke, “I’m acquainted with Denise Ames, yes, but I had no idea she was missing”, And we are not, and never have been, romantically involved.”

Nicky look in disbelief “That’s textbook gaslighting.”, Mr. Evans, I saw you at her art show last week. You and I made eye-contact.”, “ Don’t pull this” don’t believe your eyes” crap one me”.

He regards you with those discerning, brilliant blue eyes.

“That’s impossible “,Chris answered.

“And why is that?” , Nicky answered him back.

“Because I’ve been out of town for well over a month.There’s no way I could have even seen Denise.”, Chris spoken with confidence.

“What?” , Nicky answered in shock.

Chris sighs heavily, reaching into his breast coat pocket for a slip of paper.

“No, not paper. A plane ticket “. Nicky thought to herself.

You inspect the ticket.

“It’s real, I assure you.” Chris answered.

You hand it back to him feeling your brow crease in confusion.

Nicky answered still in disbelief, “But I swear I saw you. You were at the gallery last week with her, I’m not buying it unless you have... A doppelgänger, or an evil twin or something”.

Chris’s expression darkens for a moment. He takes his fingers through his hair, looking agitated and concerned.

“This boyfriend of Denise’s. How much do you know about him?”,Chris asking with concern.

Nicky answered “All I know about Denise’s boyfriend is that he looks exactly like you, Do you have identical twin, Mr. Evans?”

Chris’s eyes flash, and he ducks his head, frowning into his coffee cup.

“Any family I have is dead, doctor.” Chris answered coldly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not Denise’s mystery man.”

“What I am, however, is her friend. And if she’s gone missing, I want to do everything in my power to help you find her.” Chris spoke with concern in his voice. “Please let me help you. For Denise’s sake.”

You bite your lip, considering. Nicky thought to herself “He seems sincere. And he clearly wants to help me.” “ I should hesitate.”

“There’s no way I can believe you. I’m calling the police “, Nicky answered still in disbelief.

He sighs.

“Fine. That’s fine. But I assure you, you’ll find nothing “. Chris spoke sternly.

He hands you a card with his name, address, and phone number.

“Give me a call when my story check out, doctor “. Chris answered. “And let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you find Denise.”

“I... will consider it” Nicky answered.

“Thank you” , Chris spoke politely. “ I don’t believe I ever caught your first name.”

“It’s Nicky.” You answered.

“Well, Nicky, despite the circumstances, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Chris spoke with that raspy voice. He extends his hand and regards you expectantly.

Nicky thought “I should be polite.” You reach up, taking his hand in yours. However, as soon as your hand comes into contact with his, you jump. You feel something, then. A strange warmth in the center of your chest that makes you pause.

“Nicky? Is something wrong?, Chris spoke with concern. Nicky thought to herself “Focus, Nicky”. You clear your throat and offer him thin smile.

“No. Nothing.” , you answered quickly. “It was nice to meet you, too.”

“Until we meet again,Nicky.” Chris answered back.

“Goodnight, Chris. I’ll keep you posted.” Nicky answered.

You give him a nod, turn on your heel, and walk out.

By the time you arrive at your home, you feel exhausted. Your eyes are heavy, your limbs numb. You sit down on the couch, sighing as you sink into the cushions.

“Where are you, Denise.” . You close your eyes, and before you know it, you drift off to sleep.

Red. Everything is red. Denise spoke , “N...no. Please...”

Your little cousin, the last family you have left, lies helpless on the bed. Above her are two men with identical faces.

Chris spoke “ Brother, stop this madness!”

??? Spoke , “Haha...” . Denise spoke helplessly “Nicky... help me...”

“Denise!” , Nicky yelling for her . One the twins bends over her, baring his bloody fangs. Vampire’s fangs.

Nicky thought to herself “Maybe I can save her if I... attack him!”. You try to move, to fling yourself at him. But no matter how hard you struggle, your feet are rooted to the spot.

Chris yelled “Brother, no!” . ??? , he laughed....., the vampire plunges his fangs into Denise’s neck. “No!, Nicky yelled.

You wake with a start, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“W-what happened?, How did...? Nicky spoke to herself. you take a long breath, shock overthinking you. “A...a dream? But how?. You place a hand over your hammering heart.

You haven’t had a single dream since you were a child. And now... of all the things you dream about... You sit up, your resolve strengthening. “I’m getting to the bottom of this. I’m going to find Denise and I’m going to figure out what Chris Evans is hiding.”

The next day is your day off, and you head straight to the police station. Your posture stiffens as you speak with the detective in charge of Denise’s missing person case.

Detective answers “I’m sorry, Dr. Ransom, but the alibi checks out. His travel papers are all in order, and we have security footage of the airport. There’s no way Chris Evans was anywhere near San Francisco in the past month.”

“That’s...shocking”. Nicky answered in disbelief. “There just no way.”,” I swear I saw him with Denise.”

Detective answers, “We can keep looking into it, but I’ll be honest. I think it’s a dead end.”

The detective sighs, scratching so thing on a notepad. “Dr. Ransom, it’s been over a week since she’s gone missing. You need to prepare for the worst.”

“I see.” , Nicky answered sadly.

You groan in frustration as you get into the car. For a long moment, you do nothing but stare at the San Francisco street. Then, you pull out Chris’s card and stare at the number.

Nicky thought to herself,”what should I do?. Rush over to his house right now! “Forget it. I don’t owe him anything.” He’s GOT to have more to do with this than he’s told me.”

Your mind races as you drive through the city, following the directions to Chris’s home.

Nicky kept thinking, “ I swear I saw him. I ... I know I did.”

You gather your thoughts back to your car and back to the road in front of you.

Finally, you pull up to large black gate, you feel your jaw drop.

“This place is huge.”Nicky thinking to herself. “He’s loaded...figures.”

You park outside the gate and walk up to the iron bars. There’s a small keypad nearby, but the bars are just slightly ajar. “What should I do?” , “ I’ll try the keypad”.

You press green button on the keypad.

Nicky spoke “Uh, hello?”.

Luckily, a voice speaks through the speaker. “Dr. Ransom?”.

Nicky hesitating,” Yeah?..”.

That seems to be enough, and soon the gate opens for you to enter.

You walk up the path to the mansion, suddenly feeling nervous.

You give the door a short knock.

Nicky thinking to herself “No answer...is he not home?,But the gate opened.”

Then, just like the gate, the door swings open on its own.

Your jaw drops as you take in the enormous foyer.

Nicky spoke shockingly, “C-Chris?”.

You walk inside, looking around in awe. Then you see him. His blue eyes are focused on you as he descends the stairs.

“Hello, Nicky.” Chris greeted you.

Here in this mansion, he outshines even the finest piece of artwork. His beauty is too unreal, too inhuman.

Chris spoke, “Lets find your cousin , shall we?”.

Nicky thinking to herself, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Tags: @denisemarieangelina @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @ohmy-captain @patzammit @daliaevans @lovinevans @mizcaptainphoenix @thatgirly81 @jtargaryen18 @southerngracela @katiew1973 @deidrashouseofpain @pine-fresh-kirk @littlefiercequeen @shellbilee @star-spangled-beard-burn @kirstie-evans-writes @thinkxlovexloud @luvinchris @wintrcaptn @kelbabyblue @americasass91 @comebackandhauntme21 @nomadevans82 @nbarnes @brilliantkey @bellaireland1981 @worksby-d @captaincrazyexlover @shadowcatsworld @chris-butt @chrisevansfanfic @blvck-liquorice @kailyndavillier @what-is-your-plan-today @captain-rogers-beard @waywardodysseys @captainchrisstan @twittytelly @gothamlovr91 @jennmurawski13 @imma-new-soul @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @amazon-x @thatsxamericasxass @chrisrogerscap @ok-buchanan @denissjmaddox @jms358 @xlanawriter

If I missed any tags forgive me it wouldn’t let me add more.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {32}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Slow, Smoldering, Torturous Burn 😊, 

Word Count: 7.2K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

Note: Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️  ❤️ ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 32: The Big Two!!!

-Vixen-

  “Everyone ready?”

  Your parents, Nexus and Chris all nodded. You opened the door, and all of you walked into Ella’s room. She was still fast asleep. As you approached, you all just gawked at her sleeping frame. She was sheer perfection. You had a flash of the last two years and every milestone, every smile, every ounce of joy she’d brought you and you teared up. Nexus nudged you, and you looked around at them as the tears fell.

  “Sorry. Okay, let’s go.”

  Everyone began singing “happy birthday.” By the time you got to the third repetition, Ella stirred and opened her eyes to look at all of you sing. Her smile lite up her face, and she slid to the headboard of the bed to watch all of you. Her big eyes went to each of you. She was only two, but you knew her soul was much older. She saw with more than just her eyes. When the song finished Dodger bounded in leaping onto the bed and licked at her face. She giggled and squirmed around the bed. Chris took hold of Dodger trying to get him under control through his laughs.

  “Happy Birthday Kristella,” you said holding out the extra large cupcake to her that had two lit candles sticking out. She smiled widely.

“Make a wish lucky charm,” your father urged. Ella put a thoughtful look on her face then smiled again.

  “I want a pony.” Everyone laughed and shook their heads.

  “Nice try.” She giggled and blew out the candles. Everyone around her clapped their hands and cheered. Even Dodger got in on the noise and barked to his heart’s content. You handed her the cupcake, and she wasted no time devouring it. Dodger licked at her lap catching every crumb that fell then jumped on her again licking at her mouth, trying to literally take the food out her mouth.

  You stood there watching her and looked around to your family, Chris included. This was his first birthday with her, and despite everything you were happy he was around. His eyes met yours, and he scrunched his nose as if asking if you were okay. Nodding you focused back on Ella and sat beside her.

  “So, birthday girl, what do you want to do?”

  “Poowl.”

  Again, everyone laughed. The next several minutes were spent in her room, chatting and laughing and just enjoying being together. Last year this time it was just your family and a few of your friends. This year things would be a lot different and a lot more crowded.

  Every time your eyes met Chris’,  you could tell he was full of emotion. You worried he was thinking about the fact he’d missed two birthdays before this one. You hoped he wasn’t resenting you for it. When he was the first to look away that worry turned into a deep fear. It had to have been a lot, you thought to yourself. As easy as you wanted the day to go you had a nagging feeling that today would not go as planned.

  After everyone sat in amazement just watching her, breakfast was on the agenda next. You made your father’s famous cornmeal porridge, and everyone enjoyed it even Chris, who admitted it was his first time having the staple dish from your childhood. Everyone joked because he’d never had any black in his life until now, then teased him about that old tired line “Once you go black you never go back.” You rolled your eyes at them when their eyes fell to you and made sure to refrain from looking at Chris. He was gracious about the teasing and even slid in a little joke about “once you go white you just might take a second bite.” You thought back to the same thought you had three years ago when you first saw him in the bed. Everyone loved it and hollered with laughter. That was when you knew your parents and even your sister had fully accepted him into the fold. Yet another chain was secured around you and Ella.  

  After breakfast and a little pool time, you, Nexus, and Chris went to the venue to inspect the grounds leaving Ella behind with your parents. What you saw when you got there blew your mind. It looked like a two-year-old’s dream come to life. Everything she could possibly want was there, balloons galore, bouncy houses of plenty, games, and sweets. That was just the beginning though. When you saw the actual living pony your jaw dropped. You knew just who to look at.

  Chris pinched his lips and tried to give you an innocent look. You weren’t buying it. “A pony, Chris, really?”

  “Look, my daughter said she wanted a pony for her birthday, and I am gonna give her that darn pony.” His tone was assertive but playful all at once. Everyone snickered around you. You simply shook your head.

  “Two and already you’re wrapped around her pinky. It’s sad, Evans.” He smiled wide and fanned you off.

  The inspection continued, and everything you saw was perfect. It was just how you’d imagined, and the venue itself was so beautiful. Nature was Ella’s thing. She loved flowers and being out on the grass and sunshine, so this place was a no brainer. Not to mention it was private and secure. Chris made sure to hire plenty of security for the day and made sure this was kept top secret. You both were on the same page about keeping Ella protected at all costs. Fame was a disease, and it spread quickly if precautions were not taken—Chris’ words.

  You spoke with the catering manager who was setting up and inspected all the dishes. If you weren’t doing the cooking you wanted to remain as hands-on as possible when it came to the food. It was tough for you to just leave it up to someone else; it was an important day. After fifteen minutes of checking and overseeing, you stepped away tried to get away from momzilla mode. You made it to a nearby creek and stared into the water at the Koi fish happily flitting in the water. It was relaxing, so relaxing you didn’t hear Chris approach.

  “So, everything to your liking?” You nodded.

  “Yes, they did incredible. Ella will love it.”

  “Good, I’m glad. I’m really excited for her to see it. I can already imagine her big ol’ eyes,” Chris said while bugging his eyes for emphasis. He looked just like her.

  “It’s insane how much you two look alike. That was all her just now.” He smiled wide again.

  “Was it hard?”

  “Was what hard?” He was staring into the creek; then, he looked to you.

  “Was it hard having her look so much like me?”

  You held his gaze and bit your tongue. What were you going to say?

  “Hell yeah, it was hard. You try looking at your child and seeing her father who shredded my self confidence and trust I had in my ability to read and assess people.”

  You cleared your throat and looked away back to the fish. “I uh—I don’t think I know what you mean.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  You scoffed, he’d just called you out and seen right through your façade. You didn’t know how you felt about that. Again, you cleared your throat.

  “I mean—it wasn’t easy.” Chris nodded but kept quiet. After almost two minutes, he began again.

  “Vixen, about that night and yesterday--.”

  “Vix!”

  The two of you looked back to see Nexus waving you over. You nodded. “Come on.” You walked off first.

  The five of you finished looking over the venue and signing off on everything then made your way back to the house. On the drive, your mind was a thousand miles away. You wondered what he was going to say before he was interrupted. It could have been anything, and that was what made you think even harder about it. Was he going to apologize for it? Maybe, say he regretted it?

  Before you knew it, the near forty-minute drive was over, and you were again back at the house. Once you climbed out Ella was running toward you completely naked with a massive smile on her face. Your laugh was the loudest it had been in weeks. Back in San Francisco Ella loved to walk around naked. At any given moment she would rip all her clothes off and just chill in the nude. It was hilarious when you were home but not so funny when you were out, and she had the urge for freedom. You lifted her in your arms and tickled her.

  “She literally jumped out of the bath when she heard the car,” your mother informed. Laughing, you kissed her all over her face.

  “Naked again, huh.” Ella smiled wide and nodded.

  “No cwose.”

  “Really? So that means you’re not going to wear the amazing dress I got you for your big day?” Ella looked to you with curiosity shining in her eyes.

  “Yeah, it’s gorgeous. Pink. Poofy. Oh so cute, and did I say unicorns?” Her eyes lit up, and you smiled.

  “But if you don’t want to wear clothes, then we’ll just have to throw it in the garbage.” You put her down and continued to walk. She stood there in the front yard, and you knew the look on her face was a focused defiant one. She was weighing her options. You knew before you got to the door she’d be whistling a different tune.

  Sure enough, once you stepped off the grass, she screamed.

  “Mama, no thow way, mine.” You smiled.

  “You have to catch me to get it.” You ran back onto the grass, and she chased you. Every time she was close you evaded her. The defiant look faded, and she was soon laughing and squealing.

  “Da-da, hewp!” As if on command, Chris chased after you with serious intent in his eyes. You took off and evaded him as well.

  After a minute, the two of them had ganged up on you and were coming from either side of you. Chris ducked down and grasped your legs then threw you over his shoulder, forcing a scream from you.

  “Got her!” Ella squealed and ran to his side. With his other hand, he took her up and threw her over his other shoulder.

  “Gah oo mama, gah oo.”

  Another ten minutes found you and Ella in her bathtub together, just like old times. As you washed, you played and chatted about random things. You loved moments like these with her. Loved when everything slowed down and nothing else mattered but you and her talking, laughing and cuddling. You were so in love with this little girl you doubted you could love another living soul this way.  A little more than halfway through, the bathroom door opened and Chris stood there half dressed. When he realized what he’d walked in on he immediately turned his back.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you were giving her a bath, not taking one.”

  You didn’t feel embarrassed or even shy. You should have, the last time you’d been this naked in front of him was the night at his house. You felt the opposite of shy or embarrassed. “It’s fine. You can turn around. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  “Where the hell did that come from?”

  Chris’ back remained turned. “That was a long time ago. Time changes everything.” You smirked.

  “Are you saying--.” Chris cleared his throat loudly.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  “You can turn around, Chris.”

  Slowly he turned to face you. You saw his eyes quickly roam lower than your face, but they snapped right back up.

  “I um—I actually came to give Ella a gift.” You nodded, and he proceeded and approached the side of the tub then stooped down.

  “Um—Ella--.” He froze and looked like a deer caught in headlights. You wondered what he was thinking or what was wrong. You couldn’t decipher the look, but you did recognize something that looked like fear.

  “Chris?”

  He shook his head, took a deep breath, and released it. “Later.” He stood and walked out the bathroom leaving you stunned and confused. Ella, on the other hand, went right back to playing with her toys.

  “What the heck was that?”

  ~~~~~~~~

  When you all walked downstairs, everyone was waiting for you. “May I present, Kristella Raelle the official birthday girl.”

  She came downstairs decked out in her unicorn birthday tutu outfit with a bright smile. Everyone let out an audible “aw.”

  “It meeee!” She posed with her hands high in the air. Just like that, she stole the show. Chris came forward and dropped to one knee and gently took her hand.

“You’re a beautiful princess.” Ella smiled shyly, then hid her face on his chest and latched her arms around his neck. Chris wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. Your eyes met Nexus’ who smiled and looked near melting. She was supposed to be the strong one.

  When you all walked outside a bus, and another car pulled up. Once they parked, Anthony got out the car and walked toward Nexus, and all the Evans’ poured out the bus that was playing some kidz bop playlist. You looked to Nexus who was hugging onto Anthony before she let him go to shake your father’s hand and kiss your mother’s cheek. When he came up to you he hugged you.

  “What a surprise.”

  “Is it really? Wherever she is, I’ll go,” Anthony responded with a smile and wink to your sister. You smiled.

  “Thank you for coming, man.” Chris greeted him with a brotherly hug.

  “Of course. Am I officially the godfather yet? I’d make an amazing black godfather right.” You laughed and shook your head.

  “Play your cards right, and you might be uncle instead,” you hinted. Anthony gave a wide toothy smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Really, the “not the settling down kind” is settling down?”

  “Enough about me--.” He bent down to Ella, took her hand, and shook it. “Hi there birthday girl, I’m Anthony. Happy birthday!” She smiled and nodded.

  “I two.”

  “I see. A great age. Your auntie Nex has your gift for later, okay.” Ella nodded just as Chris’ family came over.

  “What are you guys doing here?

  “We talked with Vixen, she thought it would be nice to have everyone arrive together, that way the kids can all get some time together,” Carly informed. Chris looked at you, and you smiled and nodded.

  You watched Chris’ niece and nephews run to Ella and hug her. Surprisingly she accepted the hugs and didn’t cry. When Chris’ niece took her hand and led her toward the bus, Ella walked off with them. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back at you. Giving her a reassuring nod, you fanned her off. She smiled and continued walking. The rest of you followed and climbed onto the bus that was decked out with everything a kid could want. It didn’t take long for the pre-party to start and you were relieved there was no tension in the air.

  ~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god, it’s perfect,” Lisa exclaimed taking in every detail.

  You had to admit it was even more astonishing completed. There were already quite a few people there, and you guessed they were friends of Chris and his family. As you walked around, you were relieved when you saw some of your friends from San Fran. Drea, Jia, Joan, and Angie pulled you into a group hug. It was a hug you didn’t know you needed, a hug you were grateful for. They all spoke at once about different things; Drea talked about the venue, Joan about the other party guest, Angie talked about the cute guys, and Jai about how cute Ella looked.

  All of them played a significant role in making you who you were now. You and Joan went to culinary school together and became thick as thieves. Jai and Drea were your college friends, and they were the ones to credit to your wild party ways back in Vegas. Angie was a mutual friend of yours and Nexus who you’d met her through. All of them knew you before you had what you had now. All of them were there for you when they found out you were pregnant and all of them had remained by your side. You were nervous to have them here to officially meet Chris. When all the revelations began you’d told them over group Facetime and all their jaws hit the floor. None of them spoke badly about you, they joked about how much of a freak you were, but they never degraded you.

  Ella ran to your legs giggling. All your friends dropped down to her and fawned all over her and how cute she looked. Ella ate it up. She loved being the center of attention, loved being complimented. You watched on adoringly and shook your head at her antics. When she’d had enough, she ran away again, finding one of her cousins. From across the grass your eyes met Chris’. He smiled warmly, and it made your heart pound.

  “Let’s hit the bar,” Angie’s voice broke through before you were pulled away, breaking the eye contact.

  You passed several people and welcomingly smiled at each of them. Once you got to the bar and ordered your drinks, the six of you then found some seats away from any groups.

  “Finally. Girl, there are a lot of white guys here.” You laughed loudly and shook your head.

  “You are in Boston.”

  “Speaking of Boston. Vixen! Your baby daddy is Chris fuckin’ Evans!”

  Nexus clasped her hand over Jai’s mouth. You hoped no one heard her.

  “Sorry, but my god. Who knew you had that much fun in Vegas.” Again the six of you cackled.

  “No wonder Ella has blue eyes. Like how we didn’t put two and two together is unfathomable,” Drea added.

  “So, how are things going with you two?”

  “Fine. He’s adjusting. He’s really good with Ella. She told me the other day she likes him. things are—surprisingly great.”

  “And how are things down—there,” Joan signaled to your crotch. You gasped and gaped at her.

  “Oh hell no, that is how we know the situation is dire,” Angie exclaimed. The five of them laughed at you. You weren’t amused. Glaring at Nexus she pinched her lips.

  “Hey, hey, we can’t all gang up on her.”

  “Maybe that’s what she needs to finally, finally, finally get a nut.”

  Your jaw dropped. You could not believe they were ganging up on you about your sex life—or lack thereof.

  “On second thought, I can believe it.”

  You sipped your drink and sat quietly with your nose turned up like some uppity housewife.

  “Okay, Vixen. What is the problem?”

  “There is no problem? We are parents; we share a child. Neither of us want anything beyond that,” you flat out lied through your teeth. You were surprised the good lord didn’t strike you down.

  They all just stared at you, not speaking one word. Each of their expressions equated to one collective thought.

  “You are a damn liar, and we know it,” Jai voiced. They all nodded collectively.

  “Vixen?” Looking back, you saw Chris approaching with his hands up.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Oh you are not interrupting at all. Chris let me introduce you to our friends--,” Nexus began as she stood. “This is Drea.” She took his offered hand and curtsied like he was some royal. “Jai.”

  Jai took his hand with the tips of hers and shook it. “Charmed.” You pinched your lips together, trying to hold in the laugh.

  “This is Joan.” Joan was the sensible one who just smiled wide and nodded her head profusely as if she were a bobblehead. “Angie.” Angie was the one to pull him into a tight hug.

  “Oh my god, he’s really that muscular in real life. His shoulders are built for gripping as you--.”

  You cleared your throat loudly, shaking your head at your friends. Chris looked amused. When he looked back at you, you gave a demure smile.

  “It’s very nice to meet you all. Any friend of Nex and Vix is a friend of mine. Thank you all for coming.” Again, your friends nodded as if their mouths didn’t work. On second thought, you were glad they didn’t speak again. You never knew what was going to come out next. Chris turned to you.

  “I came over because I uh—wanted to introduce you around to my people so everyone knows who you are. Hopefully, after today, they’ll no longer just be my people, but ours—yours.” It was a sweet gesture. You smiled and nodded.

  “Yeah. Give me a second. I’ll be there.” Chris nodded, looked back to your friends, and smiled warmly. “It was great meeting you guys again; I hope we have time to talk later.”

  “Bet your ass we will,” Jai responded. Nexus stood there snickering while doing a lousy job trying to hide it. Chris walked away smiling.

  “You heifers are the worst!”

  “And you are a damn liar if I’ve ever seen one! Vixen Star Giovanni, what is the problem?” Angie cornered with her arms crossed. The others looked equally as confrontational.

  “What?”

  “You said neither of you is interested in more. That man is clearly interested in more,” Joan took over.

  “What?”

  “And so are you,” Jai added.

  “Mmm, this tea is delicious,” Nexus remarked as she sipped from her glass.

  “Oh shut up, that is not tea, you not slick. Look I have to go. All of you behave, don’t make the white people uncomfortable. Remember your home training,” you joked before you turned and walked away.

  Chris introduced you to so many people; there was no way you were going to remember them all. There were aunts, uncles, cousins, best friends, distant relatives, old classmates, acquaintances. It seemed everyone who had every brushed past him was at this party. As he spoke with them, they didn’t seem like strangers. They all seemed like family. He spoke warmly to them all, laughed and joked and embraced them all. It was here you saw he was a charming and likable guy. Everybody loved Chris.

  “You never had a chance. It was inevitable.”

  After nearly an hour, you were in the middle of conversation surrounded by quite a few Evans’ and it really did seem like bygones were bygones and you were grateful. When you drifted away on your own, you looked around at everyone and everything, and it felt like such a perfect day. Ella happily played with a group of children including her cousins, your parents were talking to Chris’ mother and a few other grownups, your friends were mingling and even looked to be enjoying themselves, and no one looked angry, or uncomfortable it was like everyone seamlessly fit together despite everything.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” His voice was deep and low ad without turning around you knew it was his. A chill ran up your spine, making you shiver. When you turned around, he had a slight smile on his face.

  “Just a penny? Aren’t you some mega-superstar movie actor? Shouldn’t you be able to afford a lot more than a penny?”

  He smiled wider and held out one of the glasses he held. “I can; I can afford to give you the world if you want it, Vixen. Say the word.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Just like that, your mouth ran dry, and you were sure you were going to pass out from the lack of oxygen flowing through you. They were words, but they packed a hell of a punch. You quickly took the glass and downed its contents in one breath.

  “Woah, slow down, that was Whiskey.”

  Pressing your hand to your abdomen, you tried to slow the butterflies, but they wouldn’t stop.

  “I could use another.”

  “You sure?” You nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He walked off in the direction of the bar, and you turned your back and took a few deep breaths and focused on slowing your heart and stopping the fluttering taking over your being.

  Before you realized it, you were walking into a separate building with glass-domed ceilings and walls. As you walked inside you marveled at the sight of the flowers and fountains. It was unbelievably gorgeous. You got lost taking it all in; you didn’t even realize he’d walked in.

  “There you are.”

   -Chris-

“Holy Christ, she’s gorgeous.”

  The sight of you standing in the middle of all the flora and fauna made his hands shake. You were breathtaking.

  “This is where I should have married her.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know I’d wandered off until I got here.”

  He looked behind him, making sure you were alone, then he forged ahead.

  “This place is incredible. I love flowers,” you informed.

  “I know, I remember.” He held out the glass filled with double whiskey. You smiled as you took it. Your hand grazed his, and your eyes met again. After a few seconds, you pulled back and walked away further down the cobbled path. He gulped his drink and turned to walk on the other side.

  Neither of you spoke. You gawked at all the flowers and looked to be lost in your own head. He wondered what you were thinking about. He wondered at the possibility that you were thinking about him and everything that had transpired between you. He wanted to ask, but again, the disconcerting emotion of fear gripped him. For some reason, he felt he had a lot to lose if, in fact, he put himself out there, and you shot him down. He looked away from you and ahead of him and got lost in his thoughts.

  “The world, huh.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Do you want it?” He chanced a look at you and found your eyes were already on him. You walked staring at each other, and the humidity in the room seemed to rise.

  “She has to feel it too.”

  “I do.” He smiled remembered the last time you’d said those two words to him--once upon a time in a little white chapel. “But I want to take it for myself,” you added. He expected it and smiled. Her independence was one of the sexiest things about her, but it was also the most intimidating thing.

  “Would you let me help?” You smiled, looked away, and sipped your drink as your path converged with his. You came to a stop just as he did in front of you.

  “Why?” He slowly trailed his eyes over every feature of your face then raised his hand to brush your hair back from your jaw. His fingertips crazed your skin, and he took notice of it shaking.

  “You deserve it,” he whispered. You smiled and walked to the stone steps and sat.

  “The day Ella was born was insane. She was a week late, so I thought I could get away with getting some work done and take one of my final assessments. So against everyone’s advice, I snuck off to take one of my assessments. I had to cook a ten-course meal in two hours. So I waddled and grunted my way around that kitchen and handled my business, not accepting any sort of help with reaching things despite my huge belly always getting in the way.

  “I see where Ella gets her stubbornness.” You looked at him with your eyebrow crooked. He smiled and motioned as if he were zipping his lips.

  “Thank you, peanut gallery. Anyway, a little more than an hour into the assessment I started to feel some pain. I wasn’t sure what it was. It felt like heartburn, so I pushed through it. Twenty minutes after they first began I was bending for something in the oven and splash my water breaks right there. Everyone gasps and comes to me asking if I’m okay if I need to go to the hospital. I tell them no, I’m fine. I am going to finish this assessment come hell or--.”

  “Amniotic fluid?” Again, your eyes shot to him like darts, this time they were narrowed. He smiled and raised his hands in surrender.

  “So I continue cooking. Ten minutes after my water breaks, the real pain starts, and I shit you not, it was the worst thing I have ever felt in my entire life. I felt like someone was trying to pull my exoskeleton out of my body through my crotch. It was excruciating, but I refused to fail my assessment. I pushed through it and fought the urge to roll in a ball and cry. By the time I finished my assessment I was ready to pass out, but I’d be damned if my face betrayed that. They judged the food, my techniques, and kitchen management. After they gave me the best scores of the entire class I politely asked for them to call an ambulance. Forty minutes later I was pushing her out and boom, she was out.”

  He smiled as he watched you.

  “She was so beautiful, so small, six pounds but damn were her lungs strong, she cried and cried and cried.” A laugh escaped him.

  “When they put her on my chest and her eyes locked on to mine, she stopped crying and just stared at me. It was like she recognized my soul; she recognized me. When I first looked in her eyes I saw you. I don’t know what emotion ran through me, but it was so strong all I could do was bawl. I felt so many things, but it was a strange mix of joy and sorrow. I wished you were there, looking at her I wished it so damn hard. I wanted you there.”

  He didn’t know what to do with that. A tear streaked down his cheek, and he reached out and took your hand. You looked at him, and he saw the tears in your eyes.

 “I’m so sorry Chris. I really, really am. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to rob you of that day, the pregnancy, her first year, or this last one. I am so, so sorry.” You were sobbing now; your body shook with the power of your grief.

  “It’s okay.” It was all he could muster.

  “It’s not though. You’ve been so good, so kind, and I don’t deserve it.”

  Your head was down. He cupped your face turning you to him. He used his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

  “Of course, you deserve it. Are you looking at me? You deserve so much. Yeah, I wasn’t there for the pregnancy or her birth, and you had to go through it alone. That sucks, I would have loved to be there for it all, even though I probably would have screwed something or everything up. I’ve told you I understand why you did it. I’ve moved on from it, Vix. You’ve been such an amazing mom to our baby girl. It’s because of you she is such an incredible child, so smart, funny, loving, sweet, carefree, funny, and caring. She learned it all from you; she took your grace, your beauty, your kind heart, and beautiful soul. You deserve more than the world, you always have. You just have to let me give it to you. I want to give it to you.”

  Your chest was heaving, and his heart was racing. He’d really said that. He hoped you didn’t pull away as you’d been doing since reacquainting. He didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want, but he didn’t know what he’d do if you pulled away.

  “Let me give you the world and so much more.” Slowly your faces moved closer, and the closer they got, the faster his heart pounded. He was sure you could hear it. Just as your lips were about to touch he heard someone loudly clearing their throat. You both turned your head to see his mother and your sister.  After a few seconds you shot to a standing position.

  “Ehm, Nex.” You descended the steps and began walking back down the path to them. He dropped his head and tried to control his emotions. Your father’s words echoed in his head.

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day. It was a long strenuous, complex, infuriating task. It wasn’t for the faint of heart or the weak.”

  He rose and followed you down the path to his mother who had an apologetic look on her face. You were long gone.

  ~~~~~~~~~

She was so happy; he thought as he sat and watched his daughter eat a third slice of her birthday cake, a cake you’d made. You said you could hand over the reins of cooking for the event, but you could not or would not hand over the cake. It was Ella’s favorite, coconut with a mixture of vanilla and pineapple filling. He could tell, her face was covered in icing and filling, and she looked thrilled about it.

  While he was slightly disappointed he hadn’t been there for her the last two years; he was grateful to be there now. This morning watching you sing happy birthday to her he felt the sorrow of missing out, felt the pain of it, but it wasn’t pain that was laced with resentment. It was pain of what could have been. It was longing. He felt it again in the solarium only it was stronger.

  As the day continued and everyone mingled around and enjoyed themselves, he was always wrapped up in his thoughts and feelings. Even seeing your family and friends and his mixing he felt happiness he’d worried that something might have gone wrong, but everything was holding steady, and the day was almost finished. Every time his eyes met yours you were the first to look away. He had to fight every urge to throw you over his shoulder and finish your conversation, but instead he thought about how he could make you stop pulling away.

  By the time everyone said their goodbyes, it was well past ten, and Ella was fast asleep in his arms. When the party bus dropped the seven of you back to the house he was mentally exhausted. He allowed you to tuck Ella in while he got a needed drink. He wandered off to the backyard and to the pool. After rolling up his pants and taking off his shoes and socks he dipped his feet into the cool water. As he drank he stared at the sky. Here the only stars that mattered were always visible, unlike LA. He’d always been such a space and science nerd and spent many nights staring at the sky and all the stars. He loved finding them and studying them, wondering what it would be like to see them up close.

He didn’t realize how long he’d been sitting there staring at the sky until he heard the French doors open. When he looked back, you stood there.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you began.

  “It’s fine. You’re not. Want a drink to celebrate a successful second birthday and the successful merger of our family and friends?” You smiled and walked to him. When you sat beside him he handed you his glass. You didn’t hesitate to take a sip from it.

  “Oh my god, what a day.”

  “Yeah, this was my first time going to my child’s birthday party, and I have to say I think I loved it as much as she did. that bouncy castle was so fun.”

  You snorted and laughed. When he looked at you, you didn’t stop; you just kept laughing.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You are such a big kid.”

  He smiled and nodded as he took his glass back to take a sip.

  “You’re right, I am. Guess I’ve always been one.”

  “It’s great, so—wholesome.”

  “Was that a compliment?” you rolled your eyes and took the glass back and took a mouthful.

  “I’m shocked. I didn’t think you were capable of giving me compliments.”

  “Shut up. I give you plenty of comments,” you defended.

  “Ha. Give says present, and I can attest that you have never given me a compliment.”

  “Out loud. I give you plenty of compliments in my head.” You took another mouthful.

  “Like what? Tell me one.” You looked as if you were thinking or debating if you should. You took another drink from the glass and scrunched your face.

  “You’re a great father to Ella.” Your eyes met. This was the only compliment he cared about. This meant the most.

  “You’re kind. You’re talented. You’re gentle. You’re patient. You’re—great.” The last was a whisper, and your eyes fell to the pool.

  He slid off the floor and into the water, fully clothed. You sat there with your eyes wide. “Come on; you know you want to.” You shook your head. he motioned again and approached you to wade between your parted legs. He hooked his hands around your waist and lifted you into the water, all the while never breaking eye contact.

  Once you were in the water, neither of you moved away. He drifted closer closing the distance between you. Your back pressed to the wall of the pool, and his hands held onto the edge of the stone floor right beside either side of your head. You were boxed in. Slowly he moved his lips to yours. Still, you didn’t move. When he was centimeters from your mouth he stopped. He needed you to travel the rest. His confidence and heart needed the reassurance. You didn’t move for what felt like eternity, and just when he was about to back off and dwell in disappointment you closed the distance and touched your lips to his and took lead of a slow, timid kiss. He didn’t move and allowed you this time to figure out what you wanted to do—how far you wanted to go.

  Slowly your timid kiss turned teasing. Your tongue flicked against his lips before your teeth nibbled. By that time, he was having a hard time restraining himself. When he felt your tongue tangle with his, that was the end of his control. He dropped his hands not the water, grasped your thighs, and lifted you onto him. You wrapped your legs around him, and he pressed into you. Your moan vibrated on him, and the need for you was unmistakable. He noted it went past physical though. He didn’t just want to get you into his bed. He didn’t actually want that at all. He almost lost his balance when he realized it. This wasn’t about sex.

  He pushed off the wall and took you with him gliding through the water. Your lips danced the passionate tango of desire. Neither of you were fighting the other for control, both of you were just allowing the moment to unfold how it would. Your arms wrapped around his neck to dig your fingers into his hair. Your grip on his hair tightened as you pulled his head back to look into his eyes. The moment was hazy, but you both knew an important decision was being made this very second. You could have blamed the first few kisses on accidents that the both of you got caught up in the moment; this one though, was a conscious decision. This moment was the both of you admitting and accepting that there was something here—something neither of you could ignore any longer. Something that was there three years ago, something that both of you’d thrown away all those years ago.

  You placed a soft kiss on his lips while your eyes remained open. He slowly engaged in the kiss keeping his eyes on you as well. His back collided with one of the walls of the pool, and your legs adjusted to hang at his side. He moved his hands to hold you better against him spreading his palms across your backside. It was then the kiss intensified. Neither of you cared if you were being watched, all that mattered was everything he was feeling in just this simple kiss.

  “It’s always been like this, Vixen. Tell me you realize that.” You searched his eyes and bit your bottom lip.

  “Tell me—please,” he whispered, and all the vulnerability he felt came through in his voice.

  “Always.” He placed a soft kiss on you then pulled back.

  “Do you feel this? Or am I crazy and imagining things?” You kissed his cheek, then his jaw and finally his neck. He closed his eyes to fully enjoy the feel of your lips on his skin. He’d forgotten what if felt like. He’d dreamt of it, but he’d forgotten. His groan betrayed how good it felt. You softly bit him and then his earlobe.

  “You’re not crazy,” you whispered. He moved his hands from your ass to cup your skull and pull your head back so he could see your eyes.

  “I’m not?” you shook your head and crashed your lips to his. This was an urgent kiss, one that said you wanted him. Your moans wafted through the air together, and the water served as the bouncing board. Before he could make a move to lift you out the water to make it inside he heard crying. Your lips pulled from his.

  “Ella.”

  “I’ll go.” You pulled yourself from him as he walked out of the pool and dripped his way to the door.

  He quickly made it inside the house to Ella’s room to find her tossing and turning.

  “Ssshh, it’s okay, princess. I’m here.” He placed his hand on her forehead and gently rubbed. After a few moments, her whining settled, but she still tossed and turned. He began humming what he’d heard you hum more than a few times. Slowly she settled and drifted back to a restful sleep.

  When he reemerged, you were sitting on the stone with your feet in the pool. Somehow he knew things were different now. You turned to him, and the look on your face said it all. His absence gave you time to conceal and pull away—yet again.

  “It’s late; I’m exhausted.” He nodded, unsure what hurt more, the chill of your pull away or the heat of you pulling him closer. Maybe they both hurt the same, he thought. You stood and walked to the door.

  “Tomorrow night, will you have dinner with me?”

  “Dinner?” You looked at him with confusion. “Are you asking me out?”

  “Yes, I am.” You looked shocked and speechless. He liked speechless you.

  “Uh—okay.”

  “Okay.” You nodded, turned, and walked inside only to reemerge a few seconds later.

  “Wait, like a date?” He smiled. It was as if you’d never been asked out before, or you couldn’t believe he was doing it.

  “Yes, like a date, with me tomorrow night.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.” Again, you were gone leaving him standing there.

  It had taken him three years to ask for this date. He’d jumped past everything. He’d done marriage, then baby carriage, then love. This date was three years overdue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[airadam]

Episode 142 : ...If You Hear Me

"We all need...some fresh air."

- Tobe

This month has been pretty exhausting, but I did have some good ideas for this episode, and once I hit stride with the recording I decided to try and keep the pace up and get it released on a weekend day! The selection has turned out to be heavy on artists who are no longer with us, but left us some great music to remember them by. Get yourself comfortable and press "play"...

Twitter : @airadam13

Twitch : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Evidence ft. Raekwon and Ras Kass : The Red Carpet

How is this track ten years old already? Time has flown since the 2011 release of "Cats & Dogs", the second solo Evidence album after four LPs as part of Dilated Peoples. While Evidence is an excellent producer in his own right, the reins here are taken by his future partner in The Step Brothers, The Alchemist. He further shows his confidence by bringing in California's Ras Kass and Raekwon from the Wu to guest, both legendary MCs, and holds his own next to both. A great collection of talent to kick off the show!

[DJ Premier] Gang Starr : What's Real? (Instrumental)

I just had to go back to "One Of The Best Yet" for another Preemo beat! Definitely get the instrumental release if you can, especially as you get the previously-unreleased "Glowing Mic" as a bonus cut.

The Notorious B.I.G ft. DMC : My Downfall

As I say on the voiceover, it feels weird playing a good chunk of Biggie's catalogue given how he ultimately died. This track from "Life After Death" is a perfect example, and feels like a mix of the creative writing he was famed for and maybe a realisation of exactly how much negativity swirled around him even after he had made the transition from the streets to the music industry. The legendary DMC of RUN DMC guests, only on the hook - but he does it well.

Agallah : Slaughter

Just a few bars, just a taste, as I needed something to bridge a track with no instrumental outro and the other with no open bars on the intro! Big respect to Agallah though, who has been putting in work since the mid-90s and will probably have yet another new project out by the time I finish typing this sentence. Find this beat on "Propain Campain Presents Agalllah - The Instrumental Vol. 1".

Sean Price and Small Professor (ft. Rock and DJ Revolution) : Refrigerator P

Heavy business! Ruck (Sean Price) and Rock, formerly the duo Heltah Skeltah, reunite on this killer from the "86 Witness" LP. Small Professor makes the beat dramatic, and DJ Revolution seasons the mix with his trademark super-sharp cuts.

Fred The Godson : Presidents

The Bronx-born-and-bred MC Fred The Godson sadly passed away last April at just 35 - one of the relatively early US casualties of COVID-19. During his lifetime, his catalogue consisted of some highly-rated mixtapes, but only after his death do we finally hear his debut album, "Ascension".  This track of course is built (by Hesami) around the same sample as Jay-Z's "Dead Presidents" as Fred expounds on the drug game.

Broke 'n' English : Tryin' (Calibre Mix)

"Tryin'" was one of the standouts on the 2007 debut LP "Subject 2 Status" from this respected Manchester crew. Both Strategy and DRS have a long-standing history in the drum & bass scene, and so it made sense that the remix of this track would be handled by someone like Calibre. Sharp, crisp drum action and a smooth bassline drive this one along, with DRS' vocals being woven in as a refrain. You can hear in this one track how DRS then went on to make several excellent D&B albums - his vocal versatility allows him to shine on any production.

Marco Polo : Cindy

The "MP On The MP" (see what he did there?) beat tape is inspired by a Youtube series he was doing, and features a host of new and unreleased beats. Marco Polo is one keeping this style of production alive, which I'm thankful for.  I still think of him as a "new" producer, but he's a veteran with over fifteen years in the industry!

Le$ : Out To Cali

Le$ is a great MC to go to if you want lyrics about just living life and having fun - almost like a Curren$y, but without the extreme high-end references. Right here, he's going to Cali, buying some weed, riding around, and enjoying the view - sometimes it doesn't need to be more lofty than that. Mr.Rogers goes to a familiar sample as a basis for the beat, and if you want more, the whole "Summer Madness" will give you these vibes - and exercise your speakers in the process.

O.C. : What I Need (Keelay Remix)

The "Smoke & Mirrors" LP is a bit of a forgotten one for many, but I really enjoyed it, and when acapellas became available, it was expertly remixed by the Sole Vibe crew out of San Francisco. The classic soul sample (which you may recognise from tracks like "Deeper" by Bo$$) is the foundation, with a heavy kick and skipping hi-hats providing the rhythm. O.C. never lost a step from his first LP, and he's never afraid to put his feelings out there on wax.

Sadat X : Stages & Lights

This is one of those tracks I was stunned to realised I hadn't already played on the podcast, so here it is at last! This Showbiz-produced cut from the 1996 "Wild Cowboys" LP, Sadat's solo debut, was also a B-side on the "Hang 'Em High" single - but definitely stole the show. If you ever find the original sample, you'll be amazed at how Show plucked that one small piece for this beat!

Phife Dawg : Thought U Wuz Nice

Killer B-side action from Phife Dawg, on the flip of the Superrappin "Bend Ova" 12", with J Dilla on the bouncy production. Still can't quite believe that both of these icons are no longer with us.

Saib : Beyond Clouds

The Chillhop label seems to put out endless amounts of beats from producers specialising in sounds inspired by greats like J Dilla and Nujabes, but with their own spin. This one comes from the "Chillhop Essentials Fall 2020" compilation, one of any number that are perfect for soundtracking study, work, or just a lazy day!

213 : Run On Up

That beat by Tha Chill and the delivery of "Shut the f********ck up and ruuuu-uuu-uuuun" by the late great Nate Dogg is enough to make this an absolute classic in my ears, but the full picture is even better. Way before "Doggystyle", "The Chronic", or even "Deep Cover", 213 was the group formed in Long Beach by Nate Dogg, Warren G, and Snoop, before any of them had got their big breaks. Years later, after all of them had become stars in their own rights, it was heart-warming to see them reform for the "The Hard Way" LP, from which this is taken.

Sporty Thievz : Angel

The Sporty Thievz deserve to be remembered for more than "No Pigeons", as much as we enjoyed the whole thing at the time. The "Street Cinema" album may not have quite lived up to the name, but there were some solid cuts on there, and this was one. Produced by King Kirk of the group alongside Ski, this track has all the foreboding, and while the singing on the hook may not be Marvin Gaye level, it absolutely works here.

Jean Grae : My Crew

One of the great underrated MCs - not because her skills are in question, but simply because not enough people know her! She's in fine early 2000s form on this cut from the "Bootleg of the Bootleg EP", produced by China Black. Straight boom-bap, and she cuts through with clarity and dexterity. Jean Grae raps, sings, produces, acts...one of the true talent of the culture.

Bronx Slang : Just Say No

New single from Jerry Beeks and Ollie Miggs, who have really been on a hot streak the last couple of years. It's nice to hear some protest music in an era that really calls for it, and if this is a marker of how good the upcoming second album is going to be, then you need to reserve a space in your crates right now! Jadell on production brings an appropriate heaviness to the track, no lightness on the beat!

[Ron Browz] Big L : The Heist (Instrumental)

All these years and I'd never looked to see who produced this beat from Big L's posthumously-released LP "The Big Picture" - come to find out it's one of Ron Browz' first credits. He's much better known for "Ether" by Nas, which came in 2001. The vocal version of this track is what the name suggests, a robbery tale, and you can hear the sound effects that punctuate the narrative still here in the instrumental.

Tobe Nwigwe : Fresh Air

Tobe Nwigwe and his collective (including his wife Fat and his producer Nell) have been quietly on the rise for a while, but in very recent times their profile has elevated noticeably. "The Pandemic Project" is a short six-track album from last year, and another quality addition to the catalogue. This man is an amazing MC, and Nell's often-unconventional beats are the perfect canvas. Don't sleep! 

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!

[still-niall]

Favorite Lyrics from Heartbreak Weather

So, I was tagged by @wheretogofrmhere for this which I’m happy with cause I’m a sucker for lyrics haha. Anyway, this is gonna be hard cause I have lots of faves for this one I think, so here we go! 

Heartbreak Weather -  

“all of my life, I’ve been sleep walk living” 

“it can be so lonely in this city, but it feels different when you’re with me”

Black and White - 

“in all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life”

Dear Patience -

“feels like you don’t even know me, just me and the stars can get lonely”

“cause the situation, is like a mountain that’s been weighing on my conscious”

“the way you make time disappear, I hope that I find you my dear”

Bend the Rules -

“'cause on paper, you don’t break them, but it hurts so bad the way you bend the rules”

Small Talk -

“'like wolves we’ve run wild, let passion get too much, and let ourselves get burned by the fire”

“we’re walking on wire, but nothing feels higher, then when I see that look in your eyes”

Nice to Meet Ya -

“everytime I turn around you disappear”

“one minute you’re there, the next one you’re gone” 

Put A Little Love On Me -

“is it wrong that I still wonder where you are, is it wrong that I still don’t know my heart”

“I’ve still got so much love hidden beneath this skin”

Arms of A Stranger -

“you’ve known someone for a long time, but you never really know who they are”

“I chase an old love just to feel love, but it gave me nothing that was real”

Everywhere -

“feels like the world locked us on an island, an island without waves”

“when I think I’m all alone, and my heart’s under control, why is loving you not fair?”

Cross Your Mind -

“it’s your world I wanna live in, it’s your ocean I wanna swim in”

“love the way your hurt me, and it doesn’t even cross your mind”

“leaving me in pieces, but I swear it’s worth it every time”

“pull my heart right out of my chest, drive a train through, still get up and forgive you”

New Angel -

“too many feelings in the light, I just need a new distraction”

“you give me something outta reach, just keep doing what you’re doing, cause you move me when you’re moving”

“I give you what’s left of me, cause you feel so heavenly”

No Judgement -

“even though we don’t talk for a couple of months, it’s like we didn’t lose any time”

“I can be your lover or your shoulder to cry on, you can be whoever you like”

San Francisco -

“I want to kiss you like the first time, hold you like it’s not goodbye, before you fall for someone new”

“say I’m done running from the one that I want so bad”

“I want to let all my defenses down, scream until you hear me out” 

Still -

“my mind is complicated, find it hard to rearrange it, but I’ll have to find a way somehow”

“if honestly means telling you the truth, then I guess we lost our focus”

“so tell me you want it, a thousand miles away from the day we started”

Dress -

“when we lose our temper, you’d look at it for hours, do you still want it?”

“maybe it’s time that I give you space, but I just want to see it, back on your body, watch you dance around, tell you I’m sorry”

Nothing -

“what holds me when I’m alone, what makes the tiger tame?”

“what turns the sky from black to gold? what sends my tears up in flames?”

Tagging @niallspringsteen @niallchins @starkniall @spellniall @unrealatmosphere :D 

[mustardprecum]

Hi! If you’re taking harringrove prompts: fake dating. One of my fav tropes lol

This is a minor au where Billy and Max showed up from Cali, but there were no monsters and no confrontation at the Byers house. 

Billy had been completely silent since Steve started talking, his eyes were half lidded and sleepy looking, which Steve didn’t know how to read, so basically he just kept talking and talking in the hopes that there would be some positive sign.

“－so yeah, I have no fuckin’ clue why my mom thinks I’m gay, but she’s really excited. And it’s weird, and it’s worse because my dad is really excited? Which is weirder? I don’t know what’s happening. But I got a D on my last math test, and I panicked, and I don’t know why announcing that I had a boyfriend made it suddenly okay, but it did, and now my parents want to meet my boyfriend, but I don’t have a boyfriend. And now it’s going to be Friday, tonight you know? And I’m not going to have a boyfriend to bring to dinner, and they’re going to get mad at me and, and, and,” Steve choked on his own spit and started coughing.

Billy was in much the same position he’d been in when Steve approached him in the school parking lot. Leaning against his car, unlit cigarette lazily hanging between his lips.

The silence was deafening; Steve was deafened. Then, Billy smiled, it was way worse than the blank stare. How could someone look so incredibly, gleefully, mean with such a pretty smile?

“So you want me to be your boyfriend.”

“Yes!” Steve paused. “I mean, for tonight. For pretend.”

“Uh huh,” Billy finally lit his cigarette and saunted toward Steve. “What’s in it for me?”

“I mean, the fact that I have money is one of my few redeeming qualities,” Steve said. Dustin had said it once as a joke, it had hurt, but he thought Billy might appreciate the joke.

Billy snickered; Steve was a genius.

“So money, $200,” Billy ticked off his fingers ignoring Steve’s splutter. “What else?”

“What else, what the fuck, $200 isn’t enough?” Steve raked his hands through his hair. “What else could you want?”

“You drive my shitty stepsister to and from school.”

“Fine.” Steve didn’t point out the fact that after joining the gaggle of middle schoolers who followed him around, Max ended up getting rides from him most of the time anyway.

“If I ever use you for an excuse, you go with it no matter what.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, brain concocting several worst case scenarios that could happen. Begrudgingly, he nodded.

“Great,” Billy did that thing with his tongue that Steve didn’t know how to react to. He held his ground as Billy stepped up to him and offered his free hand. “You got a boyfriend.”

“Oh thank god,” Steve shook Billy’s hand. “Thanks man, you’re saving me.”

Billy hummed and dropped his cigarette. Then he yanked Steve closer and purred, “so what should we practice?”

“Practice?” Steve squeaked.

“Every movie I ever seen says they’re going to make us kiss at some point,” Billy’s eyes practically glittered.

“I’m pretty sure my parents aren’t that weird.” Steve tried to pull his hand back but Billy held fast. “Oh god, you’re going to be really weird about this, aren’t you.”

Billy threw his head back and laughed. Steve edged back a couple steps until Billy stopped and looked at him mirthfully. “Yes. I’ll be at your place in an hour.”

An hour later, Steve was listening to his parents in the kitchen. He was completely baffled by them. The moment Steve was assumed ‘gay’ all the fighting suddenly stopped. Suddenly his dad wanted to help in the kitchen. Suddenly his mom was following the directions on her pill bottles. SUDDENLY STEVE WAS ALLOWED TO GET A D ON A TEST.

He was reeling, with his face pressed to the window, listening for Billy’s loud ass car. Asking Billy had been a mistake, Steve knew that now. All he’d been thinking was that he was desperate and Billy was from California, and people were supposed to be cooler in California or something, right? Hence why Steve’s grandpa refused to vacation in San Francisco.

Steve yelped when he heard Billy’s camaro, and he heard his mom comment that he sounded ‘excited’.

Stupid Billy had taken off so fast, Steve hadn’t gotten to coach him on what to say, how to act, or how to dress. He hurried out the door as Billy got out of his car. He looked...nice, actually, in his red shirt that was buttoned up like a human, and jeans that were fitted but not nearly as tight as Steve knew Billy’s jeans could get.

Billy swagged up to him with a lazy smile. “Hey Princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” Steve wrinkled his nose. He never thought he’d miss the derisive ‘King Steve’.

“Boyfriends have pet names,” Billy leaned in and Steve let him out of sheer curiously until Billy kissed his cheek.

Steve’s cheek burned where Billy’s lips touched but he managed to keep his composure. “Boyfriends don’t use pet names that the other boyfriend hates,” he said in a bratty voice. Christ, Billy smelled nice, why did he always reek of cigarettes and hairspray if he could smell like this?

“This one does,” Billy brushed past Steve and smacked his butt. “Introduce me to your parents,” he said over Steve’s squawk.

Billy was going to ruin everything.

Billy was incredible with parents. It was unnerving, bringing him inside and introducing him, only for Billy to dial up the charm to 11. Pretty smiles, respectful behavior, appropriately bashful as he took Steve’s hand.

Before that night, Steve would have never expected his dad to get along with someone like Billy. But there they were, sitting at the patio table, chatting about baseball while Steve’s mom asked for his help bringing in the food.

“He’s gorgeous,” she whispered happily, pinching Steve’s cheek. “I always knew you inherited my taste.”

There was a joke about her taste in marrying his dad on the tip of Steve’s tongue. Instead he smiled and settled on, “I never thought I’d bring him over.”

“I’m glad it’s all out in the open,” she sighed dreamily. “Your father and I love you. You know that?”

“I love you too, mom,” Steve followed her back outside with a big summer salad. It was a nice day out.

Billy had come up with a story all his own about how they started dating. It was better than Steve’s so he went along with it. He kept his leg pressed against Steve’s while he spun lies around Steve’s parents.

“Do you parents know?” his dad asked.

“No,” Billy’s voice dropped. Steve looked at him, his face was solemn. “And they can’t. My father is...not open minded that way.”

Steve’s parents made the appropriate sympathetic noises, and Steve rested his hand over Billy’s. He’d heard some horror stories about Neil being an asshole from Max, it wasn’t until just then that he considered how Neil might have reacted to Billy being with a boy.

Billy took Steve’s hand and swiped his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. When he smiled, it was soft and sweet like cotton candy. “I was really happy when Steve said how supportive you both were.”

If there was any doubt before that, it was completely gone. Even his dad looked teary eyed.

At the end of the night, after so much fawning that it made Steve sick, he walked Billy back out to his car. “So,” he drawled proudly, “you were wrong.”

Billy raised an eyebrow.

“My parents aren’t creeps who made us kiss in front of them,” Steve clarified. Billy kept his eyebrow raised, which was annoying because it made Steve less victorious. “Anyway, so, see you at school?”

“Yep.” Billy pushed Steve up against his car and crowded against him. His eyes shifted all over Steve’s face, and his hand moved slowly as he grabbed Steve’s chin.

Were his parents watching and Steve hadn’t noticed? Was Billy just messing with him? Steve was very unprepared for Billy’s behavior the whole night. Most of their interaction was Billy heckling him at basketball practice and at parties.

Steve stayed relaxed, expecting a short little peck.

Billy kissed the way Steve expected, forcing Steve’s mouth open and practically kissing the life out of him. Steve was overwhelmed, he’d never had so much tongue and teeth in a first kiss but by the time Billy pulled away Steve was panting, blushing, his knees were shaking, and he felt like a swooning heroine.

“Christ,” he whispered as Billy pushed him harder against the camaro. They kissed again, this time with more participation from Steve.

He’d been single for a long time, hadn’t realized quite how much he missed making out with someone. Billy was really fucking good at it. His body felt so different from Nancy, so much broader than Steve’s, hard and so stronger that the camaro actually rocked when Billy ground against him.

“Stop fucking with my hair,” Billy muttered against his mouth. Steve may have had both hands tangled in the blond curls. He tugged for good measure and Billy bit his cheek.

Then Billy stepped back so suddenly that Steve almost dropped. He pushed his hair back, casual as though he wasn’t very visibly hard. Steve had his eyes on it as he adjusted himself.

That was confusing; Steve was confused.

“See you Monday, Princess,” Billy reached around Steve to open the drivers side door.

Pushing away any thoughts that were hard to process was something Steve could do. “Have a good weekend, uh, pookie?” He winced at Billy’s dumbfounded look.

Then Billy laughed, “abso-fuckin-lutely not.”

“Whatever.”

Billy left and Steve went back inside, unsure he actually had a boyfriend or not.

[hbostolemysoul]

Fluff alphabet: Joe Liebgott

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

When you and Lieb first met, the thing you found most attractive about him was when he shut the hell up. Joe has a temper, and a mouth to match. You two mixed about as well as water and flaming oil, both working desperately to consume the other, but ultimately never succeeding.

Yeah. You found it most attractive when he shut up. (his hair was definitely not attractive…or the way his mouth would quirk when he smiled…or how animated he gets when talking about superheroes...)

Yep definitely him shutting up…absolutely nothing else…

Joe on the other hand had no problem admitting you had a pretty face, “Too bad every word that leaves your mouth makes you uglier”

Lieb is an asshole, and he knows it. In fact, he is pretty sure that is just his default setting. Which is how he justifies being an ass to you. (he absolutely isn’t nastier to you when he sees guys from other companies flirting with you…and all he wants to do is fucking deck them). He feels that he is doing the rest of guys a favor. Bros before hoes or something like that (except that you definitely are not a hoe, and he will gladly square up with anyone who says that…other than him).  

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Joe talks a pretty big game about finding a ���nice Jewish girl with big tits, to make tiny Liebgotts with’. Maybe that was something that helped him to cope during the war but finding out you were pregnant actually broke something in Joe. You two had gotten into a fight about god knows what and ending up sleeping together…and then hooking up almost every time you two got into a fight after that (which was frequent). It was fiery, and passionate, and fueled by your mutual hatred/love for each other.

You found out shortly before you shipped off back home. You told him a few days before you left and he just…up and avoided you. You had searched desperately for him the day you shipped out, with no luck. You ended up writing a brief letter to him, leaving your address and phone number. Giving it to Web you asked him to pass it to Lieb.

You moved back home, 7 months later you gave birth to your daughter. Still no word from Joe.

You had been everything from sad, to scared, to furious. When you found out that he had cut ties with literally everyone from Easy you thought it would make you feel…well better. Instead, you found yourself worrying about him.

Word spread to the guys that you had a kid. Most knew that it was Joe’s. Some of the guys were furious (Guarnere, Babe, Roe of all people) most were sympathetic and supportive (Winters, Toye, Webster, Malarkey, ect.)

Your child may not have had a father for some of her life, but she had an army of uncles who would move mountains for your little girl.

Your daughter was three when you received a letter from one of Joe’s sisters. The letter explained that Joe had refused to talk about the war (fair enough) but one night she found him drunk as a skunk and crying. He told her about you. About the baby. About how he didn’t “know what to fuckin’ do anymore”.

She had left a phone number. That was how you met the Liebgotts. It took some convincing on their part, a bit of encouragement from Winters and Webster, and a sharp fucking shove into the back of Malarkey’s car for you and your daughter to make your way down to San Francisco (Buck had also decided to come along, because “Mal can't be trusted with kids, c’mon”)

You had decided to leave your daughter with Malarkey and Buck when you first went to visit Joe.

Things went about as well as the entirety of Operation Market Garden.

He was not okay, clearly not coping well with the effects of war. You had left shortly after getting there, leaving a picture of your daughter on the table. His mom was in tears as she saw you out.

Going back home was more somber than either Buck or Malarkey would have liked, but they did everything they could to cheer you up. It helped.

About 3 weeks after arriving back home your phone rang, it was Joe.

It was at that moment that he began to make…well an effort. It was a slow process, but your daughter deserved to know her father, and Joe deserved a chance at love and peace.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

While you two were hooking up it was usually rushed, clothing righted shortly after. But in moments where you two had a bit more time, his hands would sometimes linger as he gently rebuttoned your clothes.

Later in life cuddling often consists of the two of you in bed, arms barely touching as a few small humans squeeze their way between the both of you.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Joe likes to drive, its one of the few things that give him peace. Sometimes Joe would drive you all down to the beach, or to a drive-in. Somewhere a bit outside the craziness of the city.

E = Everything (You are my __ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“You are so much more than I deserve”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Joe knew he loved you back in Toccoa. Not that he ever admitted it fully to himself.

During the entire war, he loved you. He loved you when you told him you were pregnant. He loved you enough to push you away so you wouldn’t have to deal with the broken man he was trying so desperately to hide from everyone.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

While you two were sleeping together pre-daughter, he was intense. His touches bordering on painful until after the act, then his touches would gentle, lightly caressing your skin in a way that he could say was accidental if you ever called him out on it.

Once you and Lieb reconnect, it’s a slow process. He has a lot to make up for. Touches of any kind are minimal at first, but over time a hand on your back or fingers running through your hair become gentle parts of everyday life for the two of you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

No. Joe just does not like hand holding. He doesn’t want to look like a ‘sap’ in front of strangers, let alone people he knows. He will, however, sling an arm along the back of your chair when you go out. He finds comfort in knowing you are there without having to physically put his hands on you.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He thought you were fucking beautiful, and so fucking stupid for being in the god damned paratroopers. Everyone took to you like a moth to a flame. You were kind and tough as hell, and he wanted to hate you so much.

When he didn’t hate you, it made him want to hate you more. It wouldn’t do well to get attached to a fucking broad who would be jumping into a warzone. Pushing you away and being an asshole was Joe’s way of trying to convince himself that he didn’t care about you. (It never worked)

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Oh lordy yes. Training was a bitch, you couldn’t enter the same room as Lieb before he was spouting off some remark to piss you off.

Looking back now you realize his comments came more frequently when you were around other men.

Even now, married with a few kids Joe still gets mouthy when another man looks at you for longer than a second.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You honestly don’t know who kissed the other first. One minute you are screaming in each other’s faces, the next your lips met in an aggressive clash of teeth and tongue.  

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He does. It takes him about a year of being back in both your lives, but he does say it. Your daughter had fallen asleep on his one side, you were smiling down at her sleepily. He gently brushed your bangs back muttering the words almost silently. Looking up into his eyes you smiled tiredly, “Love you too Lieb”. It took a lot for Joe to cry, but that did it. Something about that moment healed both of you a little bit more.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

His favourite memory is pretty mundane in comparison to most. It was the first time he came ‘home’ from work. He had just moved in with you two, entering your home, his home, after work was nerve-wracking. His nerves settled moments after he stepped through the threshold. Your daughter was sprawled on the floor, scribbling relentlessly on a piece of paper, while you sorted through work documents at the table. It was so domestic, and so much more than he ever expected. He was home.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Joe works with you to provide for your small family. You two are never rich, but you make sure your children want for nothing when it comes to the necessities.

Joe struggles a lot with having anything to do with the guys. You got him writing to Winters occasionally, and that was a HUGE step for Joe. The best gift he ever gave you, was calling the guys personally to tell them when you gave birth to your second child. It was hard for him. So terribly difficult. But he knew how much the guys mean to you, so he swallowed the grief and panic that came with anything that reminded him of the war. Seeing Luz, Perconte, and fucking Webster with a shark stuffed animal crash into your hospital room a few days later made the gesture all the more special.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

You remind him of the sky during the sunrise. You are both an infuriatingly bright and absolutely beautiful.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

He uses ‘babe’ a lot, which was kind of funny when Uncle Babe came over for your daughter’s birthday. The confusion on poor Heffron’s face and the fury on Joe’s was priceless.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

(I know its still modern) Hersey bars. He likes to share them with the kids on Friday evenings. They will sit on the back porch, share chocolate and talk about their day. Its pretty cute.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Joe is usually driving his cab, if the rain isn’t too bad he will continue on with his day. If the downpour gets ridiculous he will pull off and park somewhere he can see the ocean, watching as the tiny droplets disappear as they meet the waves.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Before you and Joe reconnected he smoked a ridiculous amount. Something about the burn of each inhale helped to settle his mind.

While he has cut back on smoking, you still sometimes find him hunched outside in the middle of the night smoking. The sweat from his nightmares still gathered on his brow, in these moments you just hold him and wait for him to finish.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He talks a lot about work, he has some pretty entertaining stories that he will share with you and the kids to get you all to laugh. Your family had brought life back into Joe.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Driving. Every June your family will pack up and head to some camping destination, or off to see one of the guys from Easy. Around D-day Joe gets anxious, so you two decided to make something that marked so much darkness for the two of you, into something positive to share with the kids.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

You best believe that Joe carries around your kid's drawings in his wallet. When Harry and Kitty come to visit it's almost comical to watch as they have a ‘dad off’ on who’s kids are most artistically inclined. You and Kitty often hide in the kitchen and drink.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

You had been having a rough time at work, a few of your co-workers had just quit and the work was piling up while the higher-ups tried to find replacements. You came home late one night, Joe had made dinner for you and put the kids to bed. Kissing the top of your head he ushered you off to have a bath while he cleaned up. Entering your bedroom almost made you cry. On your pillow was a small box and one of your favourite flowers. Walking over you opened the box, tears coming to your eyes, Joe had come to lean against the doorframe. Rubbing the back of his neck he just grinned at you, “So uh- what do ya’ think?”, He asked.

You just nodded as you walked over to him, his arms soon pulling you close to his chest as you cried.

Your wedding was small, just immediate family. Some of the guys were bummed, but they understood as Joe was still struggling with being around them, let alone a bunch of other people.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Found- Trenton

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yep. Lieb talked about it lots during the war, but actually doing it was another story entirely.

It took him a long time to ask you, he had a lot of healing to do after the war. While things didn’t play out in the most ideal way between you two, you are both happy with where you ended up in the end.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

No. Your gaggle of children is more than enough. After all “we own a house, not a fucking zoo”, as Lieb so lovingly puts it. 

* Okay...so things got a bit angsty. Please forgive me*

[littlemonstersau-blog]

The Feels Awaken, Interlude 2: One Rogue Thought

Written by @jkl-fff

PART I - PART II [Interlude] - PART III - PART IV [Interlude] (you are here) - PART V [FINAL]

——————————————————————————————–

Bill, putting DVD back in case: Well, now you’ve seen ‘em all (until they finish the new ones, of which only Renegade 6 will be stupendous, and that largely thanks to everyone dying—much pathos by meatbag standards, much comedy by mine). So … Whaddya think, Fordsy?

Ford, taking in a deep breath: I think … I think I’m personally going to make a working lasercutlass (with SCIENCE!), drive to wherever the hell George Dufas lives—

Bill, helpfully: That would be Skyjogger Ranch, not too far north of San Francisco. I know, because I know lots of things.

Ford: Alright then, I’m going to drive to Skyjogger Ranch, and then I’M GONNA SHOVE MY HOMEMADE LASERCUTLASS RIGHT UP HIS SCRIPT-SPEWING ASS AND ACTIVATE IT!

Stan, startling awake in easy chair: Wha?! Huh?!

Ford: THAT WAS THE BIGGEST WRECK OF TRAINS THAT WERE LOADED WITH ASS-SHIT THAT I’VE EVER SEEN! [rises to his feet, stamps around, gestures emphatically] AND I’VE BEEN TO SEVERAL DIMENSIONS WITH EXTREMELY SHODDY RAILWAY INFRASTRUCTURES AND BOOMING, FERTILIZER-BASED ECONOMIES! MEANING SEVERAL DIMENSIONS WITH FREQUENT AND NOTABLE WRECKS OF ASS-SHIT-LOADED TRAINS!

Stan, rubbing eyes: Yeah, we picked up on your meanin’ there. [yawns, scratches self] What time’s it, anyway?

Bill, grinning at this development: What’d you think of the acting?

Ford: WOODEN! FLAT! LIFELESS! LIKE THIS FLOOR!

Bill: All George Dufas’s fault. Those were all highly acclaimed, highly trained actors, and highly gifted actors. He insisted as Director they act like they didn’t know how to. Like I said before.

Ford: WHAT?! WHY?! RRRAAARRRGHGHGH!

Stan, yawning: Moses, it’s past midnight already …

Bill, egging it on: Heh. And the depiction of non-human meatbags?

Ford: MOSTLY INFURIATINGLY RACIST CARICATURES OF HUMAN MEATBAG CULTURES—er, “human cultures”, I meant just “human cultures”—AND BLANDLY UNIMAGINATIVE OR INSUFFERABLY ANNOYING (LIKE JERKJERK)!

Stan, heaving himself upright: Hey, Sixer?

Bill: Hehehe! George Dufas’s influence again. And the use of the Force? The lasercutlass duels?

Ford: THE FIRST WAS SO UNDERUTILIZED AS TO BE FUCKING POINTLESS, THE OTHER SO OVERDONE AS TO BE SHITTING BORING! THEY MADE SWORDFIGHTING WITH LASERS BECOME BORING! HOW?! WHY?!

Stan: Sixer?

Bill: Hahaha! Still George Dufas! And the script?

Ford: THE SCRIPT?! WHAT SCRIPT?! THAT WAS USED, BARGAIN-PRICED TOILET PAPER! RRRAAARRRGHGHGH!

Stan: Sixer!

Ford: WHAT?! … Er, sorry. What?

Stan: It’s past midnight. Meanin’ it’s bedtime. You comin’ or what?

Ford: Gah! I couldn’t possibly sleep now! I’m too enraged!

Stan, shrugging: Well, I am. So … keep the nerd-ragin’ at, y’know, an “indoor voice” level of volume. ‘kay? [kisses him goodnight, shuffles out]

Ford, momentarily taken aback: Um … Where was I?

Bill, helpfully: The script. Which was also George Dufas’s fault. Basically, the whole prequel trilogy is a case study of what happens if you give a man who had one or two good ideas in the past— when there was an entire team of more talented people to shoot down his one or two thousand bad ideas and sculpt the few good ones— complete creative control of a project.

Ford, remembering how disgusted he is: No, it’s a case study of what happens if a tornado picks up a barn full of diarrhetic animals— A LITERAL SHITSTORM—hits a warehouse of blank paper, then some fuckwattle decides to gather up the pages and use it as a script! It made exactly 0.0 sense as a story! According to SCIENCE! itself there wasn’t even a measurable amount of sense made in this story! And, believe me, I understand that writing isn’t easy, but they had … How long exactly to work on the scripts?

Bill, promptly: Almost exactly16 years to work on the first one, then almost exactly 3 years for the second one, and another 3 for the third.

Ford, trembling with self-control: S-sssixteen years for one script? And that mmmakes … t-t-twenty-two years total to come up with … with that p-pile of hot, fffffuck-juggling shhhhhhhhhhhit … [loses it, explodes] OH MY VARIOUS ENTITIES OF COSMIC POWER FOR WHOM THE TERM “GODS” COULD REASONABLY BE USED AS A SHORTHAND, EVEN IF IT IS SOMEWHAT MISLEADING!

Stan, from the other room: Indoor voice!

Ford, stomping around: WE COULD COME UP WITH A BETTER PLOTLINE FOR A PREQUEL TRILOGY IN ONE NIGHT THAN THAT MOVING BAG OF NEGATIVE FUCKGUZZLE DID IN TWENTY-FUCKING-TWO FUCKING YEARS! AND Y’KNOW WHAT?! [takes Bill by the shoulders] WE WILL, GODSDAMNIT!

Bill, disbelieving: Really? You wanna do something with me?

Ford: AND IT’LL HAVE COMPELLING CHARACTER ARCS, AND SUBTLY DEEP WORLDBUILDING FOR THE GALAXY, AND THE FORCE’LL BE SHOWN—

Stan, from other room: IF YOU DON’T KEEP IT DOWN, STANFORD PINES, I’LL COME OUT THERE AND SHOW YOU MY FORCE RIGHT UPSIDE YOUR FOOL HEAD!

Bill, excited: Mabel left a bunch of … of arts and crafts stuff upstairs. We can use those for this! I’ll just … just run and get them! Hang on! [scampers up the stairs]

Ford, suddenly alone: … wait a minute … [stops short, looks around deserted room) What the freeze-dried hell am I doing?

Stan, grouching back in: What you’re doin’ is bein’ a pain in my ass—a loud pain in my ass!

Ford, almost panicking: No, I’m … about to write better plots for the prequels? With Cipher? I think?

Stan: And? What’s the problem?

Ford: And I don’t … I can’t trust him! That is the problem!

Stan: You can’t trust him to help write what is essentially gonna be a Cosmos Conflicts fanfic? [rolls eyes] C’mon, Sixer, it’s not like he could write anything worse than what we just watched. You were just goin’ on about that.

Ford, faltering: No, I mean, he’s still planning to takeover! No one can trust him, so what am I—

Stan: Just be the scribe yourself; that way, you maintain creative control of the fanfic and he can’t take it over.

Ford: I mean the planet! Er, the galaxy! Gah, no, the dimen—

Stan, deadpan: Oh, yeah, that’s a real dilemma right there. Can’t have Farth Bill takin’ over that nerdlinger galaxy, or we’ll hafta write a whole ‘nother generation of whiney Skyjoggers masterin’ the Force to confront him.

Ford, irritated: Damn it, Stanly, you know what I’m talking about!

Stan, rubbing eyes: Look, I’m gonna share some Old Wisdom™ I learned as a professional conman with you. And which, in fact, you yourself told me rather recently. [lays hands on brother’s shoulders, looks him in the eyes] You don’t hafta trust someone to work with ‘em, ya dumbass. And don’t hafta trust ‘em to be nice to ‘em, neither, ya dumbass. Or even to like ‘em, ya dumbass. You can do all that, while still not trustin’ ‘em … ya dumbass.

Ford, blinking owlishly: … What? I told you that? But—

Stan, slowly: Listen, I didn’t trust Bill at the start of the summer, but I still talked to him. Still interacted with him and was nice … ish and such. And only a week after? I had him workin’ for me. [gestures dismissively] Yeah, he caused some trouble at the start, but I didn’t lock him up ‘cause of it. I was patient with him, I showed him I’d work with him, and I showed the l’il bastard he can’t beat me at my own game— I always got an eye on him, so he can’t get anything major past me. And now? He’s just like any other employee I’ve ever had (except for Soos) … Slacks off and shoplifts about the same amount, too.

Ford: … And you’re bragging about that?

Stan, smugly: Heh. Yep. Think about it, Sixer. For him, that’s huge progress.

Ford, reluctantly: I guess, but—

Stan: Listen, you don’t hafta trust Bill. Okay? You know already he’s up to something (or so you’re convinced, anyway), so he can’t trick you. You’ll be suspicious of absolutely everything, so he won’t be able to get something past you in the middle of, say, writin’ your stupid, nerd fanfic. Or talkin’ ‘bout an anomaly. Or just havin’ a civil conversation every now and then. Okay? This gettin’ through that metal plate in your skull? I mean, it should be able to since—not to put too fine a point on it—you suggested it to me not too long ago.

Ford: I don’t … need … to trust Cipher … to be nice to him …

Stan: Exactly. And—Moses on a moped!—his name is Bill. [turns, goes to leave, pauses in doorway] And for fffffuck’s sake, keep it down while you two do whatever. Some of us are tryin’ to actually sleep.

Ford, standing lost in thought: … can’t believe it … so simple … really have been a silly, old fool not to see it all along …

Bill, returning: Sorry that took so long. I got buried in an avalanche of Mabel’s spare sweaters while digging this stuff out. [unloads an armload onto the table, pulls up paper and pencil] Where do we start, Fordsy?

Ford, a little overwhelmed: Um … honestly, I’m not sure …

Bill: Hmm … Well, what’re the big problems that gotta be fixed? Let’s start with that. What made you mad in the movie?

Ford, after only a split second of thought: Midi-chlorians firstly. Those go, because the Force is a mystical power-energy thing— damn it all!—and not some sorta bacterial infection!

Bill, making a note: Good. Good. How about that Rule of Two? Speaking as a megalomaniac, I can say it’s stupid to only have one agent working for you. You’d get nothing done!

Ford: Um …

Bill: What? Oh, Yog-Sothoth’s sixth soleus, that was a joke.

Ford, deciding to believe that: R-right. Um … None of that immaculate conception or prophecy crap, either. That’s gone. Came out of nowhere, served no purpose, we don’t need it.

Bill, making a note: What, you don’t like the idea of Space Jesus? How about rewriting the romance so that it doesn’t just … happen, y’know? So that there actually is a romance, and not just two straight characters who bone ‘cause they’re the opposite genders?

Ford, getting excited: Moses, yes! And rewriting Otherkin so he isn’t some whiney kid who just … just does stuff because the plot needs some action! We could do that for all of them! We could make it all as great as it deserves to be!

[hours and hours of excited fanboy collaboration transpire …]