#and my parents r like. obviously she will be distracted from your studies

[ohmeowmy]

.

[foxy-not-pirate]

YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DISTRACT YOU SO THAT I CAN ATTACK YOU WHILE YOUR BACK IS TURNED.

A-Z FANDOM RELTAED QUESTIONS (YOU DON'T ALLOW LINKS): ALL OF THEM. IN OTHER WORDS: A, B, C, D, E , F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, AND Z!

Sweet baby Jesus what have I gotten myself into

Ok let’s go!

Otp: i have a special place in my heart for Lumity

a pairing I just can’t get behind: I actually don’t have one. I either really like a ship or I don’t like (at least in toh)

my very first fandom contribution was on here! I just saw people making posts that were half fic, half au and idea collaboration and just kinda. Joined in?

I have never made a crack fic

The longest I’ve ever been in a fandom might be toh, I remember reading fics right around the end of season one, but otherwise probably gravity falls

My first fandom was definitely gravity falls. I continue to love thinking about the shenanigans Pacifica and the twins could have gotten up to if they were friends earlier on when I’m bored. I prefer animated tv over live action

I don’t think tumblr has ruined any fandom for me, but I love the block button

I didn’t particularly care about any game fandoms until I saw them on tumblr, but I bought hollow knight today and I bought Stardew Valley a month or so ago and I’m having lots of fun

I feel pretty good about the people I choose to interact with in fandom, but like I said earlier, the block button is a good friend of mine

I actually did have someone I really like make a fic I wanted, but that was more a we put together an idea together and then he wrote a fic for it. (Hi, Teddy, if you’re reading this, I’m talking about you)

An irl friend of mine, @fizzywizzard, (their Christian parents found their tumblr, rest in peace) peer pressured me into watching the first anime I ever watched, so thanks dude

my favorite fandom to interact with is my single pjo mutual (hi again teddy) and their mutuals circle, whom occasionally enjoy my deranged bullshit

I know it says pick a song at random but I don’t care I think the song I do adore by Mindy Gledhill is pretty Solangelo

Invent a random au: hoo au that’s a typical uni au except that every character is a different type of nonhuman: Will is a med student vampire, Nico is a mortuary student ghost who’s been trying to pass one of the core classes for the last decade, Leo is your basic demon while Jason is your basic angel and they are studying engineering and architecture respectively, Percy is, obviously, a Mer studying marine preservation, Grover stays the same and is studying nature preservation with Percy, Piper is a Siren (which is different than a Mer) studying business, Annabeth is a harpy (she looks like an owl) and is studying architecture with Jason, Reyna is a witch studying politics, Frank is a shapeshifter studying psychology, and Hazel is a Fae studying archaeology. Hedge is a staff member who is fed up with their bullshit.

I’m going to stop here because I’ve been writing for about an hour but if you made it this far feel free to send me an ask from the list. A single letter though, or I’ll just delete it

[heyhey-heyward]

attention

summary: you give Pope all your attention one Boneyard party, and he loves it.

word count: 2.3k

based off of the first half of this blurb I did a while back!

The Boneyard, though named ominously, was actually one of the least scary spots in Kildare County. Well, as long as a crowd of drunk teenagers didn’t scare you. It was one of the only spots where class didn’t matter, no one cared who filled their cup as long as they had a good time.

Pope Heyward didn’t drink, at least not often, but he frequented the parties on the beach. His friends were usually the ones to throw the parties and he was content to spend his time with them. Usually.

“Uh, guys? Who’s that?”

Pope interrupted John B’s story. His attention was no longer on the brunette, but instead across the beach on the group of Kooks that had just arrived. He recognized most of the approaching figures, Topper, Kelce, and Sarah, but then he spotted you trailing beside the blonde girl.

Kiara told him your name, and Pope repeated it quietly. He liked the way it fell past his lips, the way it tasted sweet on his tongue. His gaze stayed on you, even when JJ swung an arm around his shoulders.

“She’s hot.” That got Pope’s attention, because you were so much more than hot. His head swiveled toward the blonde so fast he might’ve given himself whiplash, only to find JJ looking at him with a smug look. “You should go talk to her.”

“What? No, no—” Pope started to deny, stepping away from JJ and sliding out from under his arm, but Kiara perked up.

“You should! She’s really nice, I promise.” The dark haired girl nodded, and Pope raised his brows in a silent question. Kiara didn’t talk about her Kook year often, and she definitely hadn’t mentioned you.

“If she’s so nice, then why is she hanging out with—” Once more, Pope started to deflect but was cut off, this time by what he saw across the beach. He was trying to use you hanging out with the very Kooks that made his life a living hell, but shut his mouth when he spotted your annoyed expression.

“Do you ever shut up, Topper?” He overheard you huff. In the short time that Pope’s attention had been on his friends, the group that you arrived with had taken up residence on some logs around a bonfire that someone had set up. Topper had sat next to you, and Pope turned back around at the exact moment you shoved the dirty blonde’s arm off from around your shoulders. He watched as you crossed the beach, a sour look on your face as you headed towards the keg.

“Yeah, you’re going to talk to her.” John B decided. He had never seen Pope so enthralled by someone before, and he wasn’t going to let him pass up the opportunity to get to know you. He nudged Pope in the direction you were and continued. “Go on.”

Pope shot his friends a nervous look, but continued towards you anyways. He tripped on the sand, stumbling a bit as he approached. He spun around in embarrassment, ready to give up completely but Kiara, John B, and JJ were all gesturing for him to continue on. With another nervous look, he turned back towards you, and he thanked whatever higher power was above that you hadn’t seen any of his mini freakout, too busy pouring yourself a drink.

You felt Pope’s presence before you saw him. At first, you thought it was Topper coming over to continue trying to convince you that Pogues were really as dangerous as he claimed, and you looked up to the newcomer with an annoyed expression.

Pope nearly retreated with his tail between his legs when you looked up from your cup with a scowl on your face. But then your expression softened to an almost apologetic smile as you seemed to take him in.

You realized quite quickly that it wasn’t Topper chasing after you, and instead another boy. He wasn’t a Touron, you could tell by the way he didn’t look completely lost—a little nervous, yeah, but he knew what was going on. He definitely wasn’t a Kook, but you had seen him somewhere before.

Pope still hadn’t said anything. He had been standing in front of you for what felt like hours without saying a word. It had honestly been a few seconds, and somewhere deep in his mind he knew that, but it was like alarm bells were going on in his head, screaming ‘you’re blowing it!’ the longer he stayed quiet.

“Heyward’s!” You exclaimed, a look of realization crossing your face. Pope honestly would have been surprised that you knew his name, but he was too distracted by the sound of your voice. It was sweeter than your name, and Pope knew he was completely hooked. “You work at Heyward’s, right? I swear I’ve seen you delivering groceries.”

“Yeah, that’s my dad’s business.” He nodded, probably much quicker than he needed to, but at least he was talking. Maybe he had a chance with you after all. “I’m Pope.”

But then he extended his hand. For a handshake. He had practically doomed himself. In the distance, he could faintly hear JJ’s raucous laughter at his expense.

By way of miracle, you didn’t laugh in his face and run back to your friends. Instead, you gave him your name and shook his hand with a grin. He felt like he was going to combust with your hand in his, and only when you retracted your touch did his mind clear.

“Do you want to go sit?” You boldly asked, and Pope nodded, not trusting his voice. You smiled at him again, taking a sip of your drink as you watched his jaw drop for a second. It was cute, you thought, how obviously you affected him.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.” He stuttered, feeling his heart beating nearly out of his chest. You thought he was adorable, and led the way to a sparsely populated bonfire. You didn’t know the Tourons that sat opposite you, but were more focused on the dark haired boy sitting beside you.

“So, tell me about yourself, Pope.” You tested out how his name felt on your tongue, and you were pleasantly surprised by the butterflies that erupted in your stomach. You listened with a smile as he told you about how he wants to go into forensic pathology, and though he thought he ruined it once more when he talked about the specifics of the job. Though he expected you to run off, you did the opposite by turning the conversation to his scholarship.

It was going great until Topper approached.

“If you’re done trying to prove a point, we’re heading home.” Topper looked at you with a bored look on his face. You scowled, knowing he was referencing your previous argument with him about Pogues.

“I’m not proving anything, Topper. And I’m not going back with you guys. I’ll walk.” You told him, turning away from him and back to Pope, wanting to go back to your previous conversation. Pope looked a little confused, but you could tell that he was mostly stressed about Topper’s presence. You knew there was a history of bad blood between the two groups, and though you had never been witness to anything, you had heard stories of Topper getting into fights with John B and JJ, Pope’s closest friends.

“Are you sure?” Topper asked, gaze flicking to Pope with a look of disdain. The dark haired boy felt a surge of courage run through him while under your gaze.

“Yeah, I’ll walk her home.” Pope cut in boldly. Then, as he realized his own words, he worried that he might have overstepped. There hadn’t been any indication that he would be doing so, but he really wanted Topper to leave and that was the first idea that popped into his head.

And for what felt like the thousandth time that night, you eased Pope’s panic with an unexpected move.

“See, I got it covered. Bye, Topper.” You waved sarcastically. While you spoke, you placed your free hand on Pope’s knee, an action that had his eyes widening. He was grateful you weren’t paying attention to him, because he was certain he looked like a fool.

Topper didn’t say anything else, instead he rolled his eyes and retreated back to the rest of the Kooks who were waiting for him. To Pope’s dismay, you removed your hand after he left, but it was probably for the best. He couldn’t think straight under your touch, and he had to put all his focus into not saying something stupid and embarrassing himself.

“Thank you, for that.” You genuinely smiled at him. You were in too good of a mood to deal with Topper, and the prospect of getting to spend more time with Pope was not unwelcomed. “He can be such a dick sometimes, you know?”

And because things had been going so well, Pope decided he needed to put his foot in his mouth.

“Yeah, I do know. He beat the shit out of me and some of my friends a few days ago.” He figured it was probably so unattractive to you, that he couldn’t hold his own in a fight like JJ or John B could, and there he was, advertising the fact he got his ass handed to him. You frowned, and he thought he was done for, but then you were glaring at the back of Topper’s head as he retreated off of the beach.

“I can’t stand him, our parents are business partners so they think we’re going to be best friends, but he’s intolerable.” You groaned, turning back to Pope. Your expression had morphed into one of concern, soft eyes studying his face for signs of damage. You drank just enough to not question your actions as you reached a hand out to brush your fingers along his jawline, while Pope himself felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. “Are you okay?”

“I’m, uh, I’m fine.” Pope cleared his throat after stuttering, and you grinned as you once more retracted your hand. Thankfully, conversation turned to a less embarrassing topic for Pope, and you chatted for another half an hour before there was another interruption.

“Yo, Pope, we’re headed back to The Chateau.” John B called out as he, JJ, and Kiara approached. You smiled at the girl, having had a few classes with her at the Kook Academy.

“Yeah, are you coming or what?” JJ was smirking, much to Pope’s horror. You stood up, brushing sand off of your clothes from sitting on the beach for so long.

“Are you still going to walk me home?” You turned to Pope with a questioning look, and before he could respond, his friends spoke up for him.

“Yes, he will.” Kiara replied at the same time as JJ and John B nodded their heads. You laughed at their antics as Pope climbed to his feet beside you. He shot his friends a glare, and after a short goodbye the two groups parted ways.

The walk back to your house was filled with mindless chatter, the both of you much too focused on the way your hands slightly brushed together. Your heart felt like it was leaping into your throat everytime your fingers brushed against his, and he was certain he was going to pass out. After what felt like an eternity, you gathered the courage to take his hand in yours.

Pope was so shocked he lost his footing and stumbled.

You giggled, but didn’t acknowledge it.

He felt like he was on top of the world, and simultaneously wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.

Eventually, you did reach your house, and Pope followed you to your front porch. Your parents were off on some business trip, so you weren’t worried about them interrupting. You took your time finding your keys, hoping that Pope would make a move. Instead, he said goodbye and waited until you slipped inside to head back towards the road.

Pope felt like he was missing something, like he shouldn’t be leaving without telling you how much your company and attention meant to him. But it was too late, you were inside already and he didn’t have the courage to go back and knock. He’d just have to pray that you’d show up at the next party where he would be able to—

“Hey, Pope?” Your voice had him spinning around to find you standing on the bottom step of your porch. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard the door open and shut.

“Yeah?” He questioned moving to stand in front of you. You smiled at him, hesitating just a moment as a result of being under his soft gaze.

“You should probably ask me on a date now.” Your tone was light, though you were completely serious. You chuckled at the way his eyes widened, and he was nodding before he could formulate words.

“Uh, yeah, Yeah. I should.” He stuttered, a surprised smile making its way onto his face that made your heart leap. “So, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“Yes, I do.” You grinned, letting your own smile grow. You leaned forward, pressing kiss to his cheek before saying goodbye again. You had already exchanged numbers earlier in the evening, so he knew how to get a hold of you.

Pope watched in awe as you retreated back inside your house, and as soon as the door shut behind you, he was pumping his fists and cheering out of pure glee.

You leaned against your door as soon as you shut it, pretending not to hear Pope celebrating on your front lawn.

You both were smiling like fools.

[twinkleallnight]

Marshmallow

(Part-9) Bewitched

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC, Drake x ??

For previous chapters: catch up here

A/N: This fic is my submission for this week’s @wackydrabbles prompt. The prompt is: “Okay, wow, you just dumped a lot of information on my lap and gave me no time to process it.” and will appear in bold.

A/N 2: Thank u @lizzybeth1986 Lizzy, your essays are amazing. Thank u for the quick brainstorming.

Tags: @ao719 @aloneautumn @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordonianroyalty @daisydancer12385 @drakewalker04 @gardeningourmet @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog-blog @islandcrow @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @ritachacha @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @queenrileyrose @sanchita012 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @wackydrabbles @yourmajesty09-blog @xpandabeardontcarex

I stay back on the yacht, while Riley joins Max and Bertrand for the official speech and the opening ceremony of the Regatta- the ceremonial boat race.

I enjoy my time gearing up, listening to the music with my earphones on.

Riley climbs the yacht after about an hour with Max and Bertrand.

Bertrand seems to be in worse mood, and acknowledges my presence only with a nod before he starts handling the ropes.

“Did you hear that?” Riley has an astonished look.

“What?” I ask curiously.

“The king just now announced he is stepping down at the end of social season.”

“What?!” A whirlwind of thoughts flood my mind suddenly. All topped up with the thought of what Liam must be going through right now. He is being burdened with one responsibility after another since past year and this is a heavy one.

“Earth to Walker! Earth to Walker!” Riley’s funny robotic sound brings me back to present.

“Yes, Brooks.” I try to smile at her. “I am pretty much here. Let’s get ready for the show-off race.” Bertrand raises his eyebrow at me. I know he doesn’t like a word against the royal events but he is stuck with me right now.

The race starts with the king pulling the trigger of the starting pistol. The suitors stand on their yachts, while the crew struggles hard to make them win the short race.

Obviously with no trained crew we lose the race and Penelope from Portavira wins, having an upper hand with sea activities. Bertrand is upset again and disappears from the scene soon after the race.

The suitors and other nobles join Livy's yacht party to enjoy rest of the festivities. Official races are to begin soon. I excuse myself, to meet Liam at his booth at the harbour.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask him with concern. The announcement must have been hard.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It is a lot to take in.”

“He did not tell you about this, earlier?”

“I had no clue. The news is as fresh to me as it is to you.”

“This will bring lot of change. Are you ready for it?”

“I don’t see that I have an option. I think I will speak to father after this day’s event.”

“I will be around. We can meet in the study after you talk to him.” I try to reassure him.

“That sounds good. I may need it.”

I pat lightly on his back and we both turn to face the sea. I see Livy's yacht is lively with the ongoing party. Some movement on another boat catches my eye. It’s Hana's yacht with just Hana and Riley standing there. I smile and look at Liam. His eyes are following the same.

“Your girl has a knack of walking against the wind.” I tease him.

“She is a fighter. You know, the media and press are very much impressed with her. I see a bright chance for her to claim this social season.” Liam speaks with lot of affection.

“That’s great! So, you may get to marry a girl you love and not just have a political alliance to call it a marriage!”

“Well it’s a very complicated situation. Being a crown prince, I can’t just express my love openly to anyone. But yes, I may have a chance, after all!” He says flashing a grin.

“But why are these two not with the rest?”

“Hana’s parents are quite pushing. They forced her to throw her own party. Since Livy is a local person, people know her better and so, they accepted her invite and not Hana's. I guess, Riley couldn’t let Hana be alone. So, there they are, just the two of them.”

“How is Hana related to Cordonia?” She is a mystery to me.

“Her mother, Lorelai belongs to a minor noble family of Cordonia and is married into a noble family from China.”

Just then the sound of a trumpet distracts us. The official race begins and we get busy with it.

The event is followed by a private beach party for the suitors where they get to interact with the prince. I leave Liam with Penelope, and join Max, Hana and Riley for the buffet.

After our food we relax down, I get ready for a swim. “ I am dipping in. Girls, are you coming?”

Riley tries to coax Max one last time to join us, “Max you sure don’t want to come with us?”

“Let him rest Riley, let’s go. Bye hippo!” I twit over his hidden tatoo and he glares back at me.

As we stride to the water Riley questions, “ Why did you call him hippo?”

I knew that would come up. Now I try to cover up. “ He was a chubby child and his mother used to call him that lovingly.” Though this was true too.

“That’s so cute.” Hana replies. “May be if I had a brother my mother would have called him panda!”

“Why panda?” I question.

“They have been managing a panda reserve since the time I remember. So, may be….” Her voice trailed into a sudden silence as her mind reeled into some thoughts.

Before I can react, I am hit with a splash of water by Riley. Soon, we three are swashing and plashing. Riley and I do our favourite thing together – The race! It’s swimming race this time.

After about an hours play we get back on the beach. Max whisks away Riley to meet others, while I relax down for a nice sunbath.

Hana settles down close by. I don’t know why I am so curious to know about her. May be because I know the rest suitors, who r all from Cordonia, I give myself a reasoning.

“So, Pandas huh?” I try to continue our conversation that was left.

“Xióng - māo”

“What mao?”

“Panda…in Chinese.”

“Chinese, hmmm, you are missing home?”

“A tiny little bit!” She gestures with her forefinger almost touching the thumb.

“How different it is to be here in Cordonia all alone away from your family?

“ I miss them but it’s good. I am getting a chance to experiment and explore. I have never done anything without their permission or out of the rule book.”

“Seems you hardly had fun as a child.”

“I have heard few of your stories from Liam and I can definitely say my childhood was unlike any of those fun moments you had. I never had anyone to play with.”

“How did you play alone then?”

“I was not allowed toys except for a tea set as that would train me to be a proper hostess. So, I had my own imaginary games with imaginary friends. Prince Snickerdoodles and Miss Lemon curd, Miss Napkin and Mr sock.” She sounds a bit embarrassed, her eyes down on the circles she is making in the sand with her slender fingers.

“That is some great fictional work there.” She raises her eyelids in surprised look at me. “Tell me more.” I encourage her.

“My childhood was more about grooming me to be part of the court someday. To be perfect at every skill that will help me win my love one day.” I raise my brow puzzled. “It sounds crazy, I know.” She continues, “ My younger years were full of all skill lessons like horse riding, ice skating, dance, music, culinary, you name it.”

It leaves me shocked to imagine a child being put through so much. I don’t know how to react. She is looking at me for some response. “Okay, wow, you just dumped a lot of information on my lap and gave me no time to process it.” I manage to say something sensible.

She gives me a weak smile “So, there was no running around the palace like you all did.”

“So, you never played tag?”

“Never.” She says with a frown.

An idea comes to my mind, and I jump up suddenly. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up!” I insist giving her a hand and pull her up. “It is never too late to have some fun.” I make some distance and get ready to run “Now, catch me. You are it!” while she processes what just happened.

She gives out a sweet laughter, and starts running after me, over the soft sand. As I take a lead, I hear her giggle.

There are few tall rocks ahead and I circle them and hide behind one of them. When she comes searching for me, I pounce and scare her. She lets out a scream and I catch her and pull her into me before she loses balance. We both are soon laughing and rolling on the sand.

We relax there catching our breath, both quiet, gazing up into the open sky. It’s a moment of bliss and we lose the count of time until there is a shuffling sound and then…

“No, you can’t come here.” Livy's sharp voice comes from behind us. We turn to see that it is coming from behind the rock, where we are lying, hidden away from her view.

“I know. I am missing you too.” It seems she is talking over phone. “I will call you as soon as I get back.”

I turn to Hana and open my mouth to speak. But she covers my lips with her small hand and gestures to keep silent.

“I love you more. Bye.” Livy finishes her call. Hana’s doe shaped eyes go wide and are transfixed on me.

I keep looking back into those honey almond eyes, Bewildered or Bewitched?

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Little Big Secrets (Sriracha, Part 16.)

Description:  A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: Living on your own in a lonely trail in the middle of the woods was like a living a fairy tale. And the prince charming was taking good care of you.

A/N: I just want to say that the Murray Bauman scene leads to the "Get awaaaay from me" scene in season two since he gets mad at him.

Word count: 2.8 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​ @creedslove​

Master list: H E R E

It was a crazy idea... But somehow... You managed to make it work during September, so October was somehow even better. It took a while to accept the fact that Hopper leaves pretty early in the morning and comes back pretty late in the evening and that you have a whole day for yourself. You became Hopper's little secret no-one could find out about. And this time for real. You practically went under voluntary lock-down, sometimes leaving to Bloomington for groceries.

You had officially started the semester at the university of Hawkins, because the dean, Mr. Clarke, was your parents‘ good old friend. You straightaway lied to him - you told him that you have a really bad illness and that you had to stay in Hawkins because of that. Every Friday, you met up with Aiden, who gave you the homework professors were sending you and every Sunday, he came back for it. Your mother obviously tried to find out where you are and who do you live with now, but Aiden kept his mouth shut. 

He, in the end, was a proud younger brother, because not everyone had the balls to actually do something as bat shit crazy as you did. You were one crazy motherfucker and Aiden couldn't but adore you. You never took him near the trail, you never told him where you live at the time - he just knew that you're alive and well and that Hopper's looking after you. Honestly, that was everything Aiden needed to know. You definitely looked happy, clean, nicely dressed, which told him that the man wasn't abusing or hurting you; in fact, he was treating you like a damn princess.

Since Hopper was out most of the weekdays, you made a small pact - it was okay to go on a walk around the quarry or go to grocery shop in Bloomington to keep you socialized and not feeling isolated. In the end, Hopper wasn't holding you in his trail against your will and he made sure you're free to leave every time you wanted to. But you agreed that going into Hawkins would be a dumb idea. So you didn't ride your bike there.

Every day, Hopper rode home with an uneasy feeling in his chest - what if he would open up the door and you would be nowhere to be found? He slowly grew to accept and to look forward to the fact that every time he comes home, there's someone who will spend time him, who would ask him about his day and well being, who would care about the man under though jokes and swearing. And his heart was pounding rapidly every time his car turned to drive into the driveway in front of the trail.

But every time he stopped the engine, the lights were on and he saw you opening up the door, coming towards him with a big, lovely smile on your lips to kiss him and tell him that you've missed him there.

Sometimes he had to stay longer at the station. Every time, you promised him that you'd wait for him but every time he entered the door, you were dead asleep on the couch with your homework and books everywhere around you, or the book you've been currently reading on your thighs. Every time he saw you there, he didn't know how the hell he got so lucky because the laundry was always done, the trail was perfectly tidied up and there was a home-made cooked meal waiting for him. And you, a beautiful and smart young woman, were waiting for him to come home. He, of course, carried you to bed - he got pretty handy with that.

Your presence was a kind of personal talisman to him. Since you started being a part of his life, living with him and accepting the role of being his actual girlfriend, his usage of Tuinal was less and less frequent. You knew that sometimes, he took a pill but both of you sometimes sat down and drank a beer or two or smoked and it almost seemed that the demons inside his head are getting quieter and quieter.

Sometimes, he woke you both up when he had nightmares about Vietnam or Sara, but usually, as soon as he felt your body pressed into his, your lips whispering him sweet nothings and calming phrases, he really cooled down rather quickly. You made him talk. Every single time, you made him talk so you could understand better, hugging him the whole time.

And you never turned away. You were fighting those demons by his side, not leaving him in the dark for a minute. You went to sleep only when he said that he's ready to go to sleep as well, sometimes distracting him with making him make love to you.

Nights of furious fucking were mostly far behind you; except when you had a shower together, which was almost every other morning before he left for the station. The nights spent away in his bed now felt more emotional, deeper than ever before. He could last for hours when he was in the right mood, not missing a single opportunity to eat you out as if he hadn't got a chance to do so in weeks.

Sometimes you argued, because every normal couple did, and honestly, he knew better than arguing with you since you got into his head in no time every single time. He could pinpoint name the moment when he had an argument coming his way - you had a long ass monologue, ending it with a mocking question. Sometimes you told him that he's a jerk (and many other names you could think of), sometimes he told you that you're just a small girl and brat, but usually, the arguments were thrown out of the window in no time as Hopper undressed you and fucked you literally everywhere he could - on the terrace, on the dinner table, in the waters of the quarry, on the couch, on the ground, literally everywhere.

Needless to say, you had your demons as well, you just wanted to live in the fairytale for a little longer - your mother was reporting you missing every other Friday and Hopper pretended to look for you meanwhile having you in his trail.

"Chief. Chief! Mr. Hopper!" - Your mother called out at him the first time, running after him as soon as he parked his car in front of the station. He was terrified for a second. Did she know? Did she find out? Did she know what you two were up to and that, in fact, you're in a secret relationship?

If she did, he was fucked up in the butt. Hopper, as every grown-up man, did know that one day comes to a really embarrassing situation. That day when you both will have to say it out loud, to tell the secret to your parents, to your friends, his co-workers, people in the town... And Hopper was sincerely afraid of that day. Yet, when she looked at him with her face completely clueless, he understood that she doesn't know. To be honest, he was terrified of the day she finds out.

He was sure that he castrates him in the most horrendous way possible and that even you, no matter how bat shit crazy or tough you were, won't stop her from doing so.

"Mrs. Y/L/N. What happened? Is everythin' alrite?" - Hopper asked worriedly, pulling the best acting so he could just lead her into his office. Flo immediately knew that it's your mother and her look was definitely concerned. His co-workers liked you, you were a little sunshine. What if something happened to you?

When your mom sat down in his office, he took a deep breath in, offering her a cup of coffee or water. She accepted the water, gulping it down in no time at all.

"It's about my daughter. Do you remember her? She was helping you out at the station during the summer." - She asked. Hopper could see that it's breaking her heart.

Do you mean that sweet little baby girl who's cooking and making laundry at my trail? The beast who makes me fold every piece of my damn clothes? That angel who stays up with me until I'm not too scared to go back to sleep? You mean that sunshine who screams my name and moans so loud that you have to hear it here in Hawkins? He could ask all of these questions, instead, he went...

"Yeah, the annoyin' kiddo who threw up on my Blazer. Hard to forget. What happened to her? Is she alrite?" - He asked seriously, showing some actual concern. He was playing on really thin ice. One dumb joke or wrong word and she knows where you're at and with who you're living.

"She ran away. She was supposed to study in Indianapolis, but she called me and told me that she decided to stay in Hawkins. She's living with someone, but... I'm just concerned, you know, Chief? What if anything happened to her?" - She asked with tears in her eyes. Aiden told her million times that you're alright and doing well and your father told her that you're a damn adult and you can do whatever you want to. If you fell in love and stayed in Hawkins, damn, you had every right to do so. He loved you no matter what. Only your mother was paranoid and scared out of her mind.

"I'm afraid that I can't take any actions against this, ma'am. She's a legal adult, she has the right to live her life the way she finds appropriate." - Hopper said, crossing his arms on his chest. That was right. You were an adult who could actually decide what you're going to do with your life.

"I know, I know... But, Chief, I beg you. If you or your colleagues see her and talk to her, please, tell her to come home. We miss her." - She leaned in to hold his shoulder with honesty and before Hopper could answer something, she stormed out of the office.

Powell, Callahan, and Florence asked about your well being because of course, they did.

"She ran away? Wow." - Callahan answered honestly while Jim leaned his ass into the counter in their office while eating Flo's homemade pie. - "She never seemed to be the type to do so."

"Come on, you shit head, I know you wanted to ask her out. You're just surprised that someone has done it first." - Powell hummed from his crosswords and that caught Jim's attention.

"You were pinning after that kiddo, Callahan?" - He asked rather quietly, showing some actual disgust. Any of the men had a clue that he's pissed because you're his girlfriend, they just figured out he's pissed about Callahan so blatantly speaking up about crush on an actual student.

"She's a really fine woman and I'm a simple man, what can I say, boss? She's smart, damn cute and can bake the best pies in Hawkins. No offense, Flo." - Callahan looked at the old lady who furrowed at him.

"I just hope that she's fine. She was more responsible than the three of you combined." - She told him and focused on another book in her hands, this time a book about gardening. And yes, she was probably right.

"I hope she comes back one day. No matter who that guy is, I bet she would be happier with me." - Callahan said courageously and Hopper grinned at that claim.

As he walked back to his office, he mumbled Keep on dreaming, lover boy, but not quietly enough, so Powell heard him and pretty much chuckled at that. That day, Murray Bauman also took the station by a surprise, storming directly into Hopper's office.

He was talking and talking while Jim just spaced out, his mind stuck on one thing - giving you a nasty call on his personal line to assure himself that men like Callahan won't even get near you. But at one moment, Murray just slapped his desk to bring Hopper back.

"Can you, at least for a moment, stop thinking about sex and pay attention to what I'm saying?" - He asked rather politely, making Hopper rather uncomfortable and unable to speak.

"Excuse me, Murray?" - Hopper asked back unbelievably, staring Murray down.

"I said that no matter what chick's on your mind, you have to let it go for a while. She obviously has some good influence over you, I'm sure she has to be great, but I have some really alarming information for you." - Bauman hissed at Hopper ironically, making him not uncomfortable, but straightaway mad at him. - "I told you I saw a UFO flying by Hawkins middle school earlier this morning!"

"Out of my damn office, now." - Hopper muttered out and massaged his nose. Murray hasn't moved an inch, so Hopper stood up, ready to help him out of that damn chair. - "I said get out of my fuckin' office immediately." - Hopper hissed back and this time, Murray left in no time at all.

Hopper could ignore your mom for the first two Fridays she came to beg him. But when she came the fourth time, he knew that you both need to talk about it already. You had to tell her no matter how much it will change your relationship. He was encouraging himself for almost an hour before he turned right at you while you sang Talking In Your Sleep while cleaning up the dishes.

"Baby, I think we need to talk somethin'." - He mumbled into the back of your neck, gripping one of his shirts you stolen in his hands, pressing his body on yours. It was still fascinating him - you were so small, gentle, lovely and adorable and yet you chose him from all the boys that you could have.

"Something on your mind?" - You whispered back, turning around to sit on the countertop next to the sink, hugging his waist with your knees. - "Do you want me to change the washing powder again?" - You hummed while untucking his shirt so you could unbutton it and kiss his chest. You were one greedy creature and honestly, Hopper couldn't have enough of it.

It made him properly terrified when you got your period for the first time in his presence. You were grumpy, in pain and curled up into a small ball. Hopper did his best to brighten up your mood - he bought you ice-cream and candy, made you his Triple-Decker Eggos Extravaganza just the way he loved it, brew you cups of coffee the whole weekend, but you still seemed to hate him every minute of your period.

Although, when you hadn't got the red alarm going on, you were the most nuzzling and caring creature he has ever seen. And now, you were distracting him with fucking, again. But he let you continue and watch your lips slowly kissing every inch of his chest you could reach.

"It's about your mom." - Jim whispered and caressed your temple as your fingertips slid down to the hem of his jeans.

"What about my mom?" - You hummed back, working on his belt. You never fucked on the countertop. It was an inconvenient place to do so, but you were willing to try everything.

"This needs to end, baby. You have to tell her." - Jim said in a serious tone, pinning your wrists to the wall, leaning in to kiss you properly.

"Of course." - You whispered back when he let you catch your breath. - "I was thinking about next Wednesday, dinner at their place. How does that sound, big guy?" - You moaned when you felt as he spread your legs even wider than before. There was definitely hot fucking on the countertop coming your way.

"Will you tell them about all of this? About us?" - He asked a bit worriedly as you wiggled in your wrists to slide the shirt off his wide shoulders.

"You can correct me if I won't. You're coming with me." - You mumbled when he took off your shirt and smiled as his hands palmed your breasts, playing with the nipples. - "You have to keep her from... Oh my Lord... From killing me."

"Do you think she won't kill us both, huh?" - Hopper hummed back as he leaned in to slowly kiss a trail down your chest.

"Let's hope she won't." - You breathed out before your panties disappeared and Hopper got on his knees.

[avengerscompound]

Snapshots - Three

Snapshots: A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1897

Rating:  M

Square filled: @buckybarnesbingo, C3 Free Space

Warnings:  sex talk, smut on the series.

Synopsis:  Before Bucky Barnes became the Winter Soldier he had a life and plans for the future.  A lot of them involving you.

During an art lesson you, Bucky and Steve find out about the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  Bucky and Steve go to enlist in the army.

Three

Bucky had been making faces at you for half the art class.  It was distracting, to say the least.  The little quirks of his eyebrow as he whispered to the boys around him.  Occasionally he’d bite his bottom lip as he gazed in your direction and then start actually doing his work.  You were about to start up an actual paint war in the classroom so you could cover that smug look on his face.

Only just when you were about to snap, a boy came in.  “Japan just bombed Pearl Harbor!”  He announced loudly.

The room broke out in chaos, everyone talking at once.  Bucky and Steve huddled together whispering and when the teacher dismissed the class, they grabbed their stuff and rushed out.  Normally it was impossible to get Steve or Bucky out of art class.  Steve always had one more thing he wanted to add to whatever he was working on and Bucky would hang around flirting with any girls still around.  Today they couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

You packed your bag and headed out.  You expected to see them somewhere during your trip home but they were nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t until the next day that you saw him again.  He showed up at your apartment a little after midday, knocking on the door like the place was on fire.

“Is your dad here?”  He asked when you opened the door to him.

“No.  He’s gone out for the day.”  You said.

“Can we talk?”

You nodded and led him down to the living room.  He sat down on the sofa chair, perched on the edge and tapping his hands impatiently on his thighs.  “What’s going on?”  You asked as you took a seat.

“I enlisted in the army yesterday.”  He said.

“You what?  Why?”  You said, shocked.  There was so little time before the end of school, and he was smart.  You’d gotten into Barnard and were starting the following year and he’d always had similar marks to you.

He sighed and collapsed back into the couch.  “I kinda thought I might anyway.  I got into college but… I can’t afford it.  If I served then it’s a job, I might even be able to study.”

“There are other ways.  Scholarships.”  You said.  “I have a scholarship.”

“I was looking into it.  It was a long shot.  I always knew that. That’s why I was boxin’.  I was putting my winnings aside.  But, darlin’,”  He rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands.  “I can’t just sit here and do nothin’ while the world is falling apart.  Steve and I went to enlist after school.”

“Steve enlisted?”  You asked dumbfounded.

“Yeah.  I mean… he tried.  He was 4F.  He was obviously going to be 4F.”

He sat up again and looked at you as you stared at him, not even sure what to say.  You weren’t even sure exactly why he’d come to tell you.  You were friends, but not exactly the closest of friends.  You most just studied with him and Steve once a week and maybe you’d see them on weekends.

“I go on Monday.”  He said.  “They're sending me to Wisconsin.”

“James!”  You gasped.  “Why… why didn’t you wait until school ended?”

“It pretty much has.”  He said with a shrug.

“Oh, James.”  You sighed, patting your chest.  “I don’t… I don’t know why you’d just put yourself in harm's way like this.”

He sat forward and put his hand on your knee.  “Yes, you do.”  He said.

You nodded and frowned a little.  “I guess so.”

He moved beside you and took your hand, playing with your fingers, quietly while you leaned against him.  Neither of you wanted to say it, but you knew you were both thinking about the fact that there was a strong chance he might never come back if they sent him overseas to fight.  “I want you to do some things for me.”  He said, finally breaking the silence.

“What are they?”  You asked.

“Well, first, I don’t want you to let anyone stop you from doing something amazing with your life.  Get your degree and do something with it.  You were right not to ever say yes to me.  Don’t get fooled by smarter boys because they have degrees or fancy cars.”  He said.

You felt tears prick your eyes and you shook your head.  “Don’t talk like this is going to be the last time you see me.”

He chuckled.  “Don’t worry, darlin’.”  He said, putting your hand against his chest.  “I’ll be back.  It’s just training first anyway.  Besides, I told you I was gonna marry you.  You gotta be my rich scientist wife so I can be your pretty toyboy, right?”

You snorted and he wrapped his arm around you.  “In your dreams.”

“That’s right.”  He said.  “I will be dreaming about it.”

A tear escaped and he cupped your jaw and wiped it away with his thumb.  “What else did you want me to do?”

“Keep an eye on Stevie.  Since his ma died he only agreed to live with me and my folks ‘cause I begged him to.  I don’t think he’ll stick around when I’m gone.  He’s mad about being rejected by the army too.  I know what he’s like and he’s gonna start picking fights with everyone.  I know you’re going to be in Manhattan, but I don’t know.  Just check up on him from time to time.  Make sure he doesn’t do anything too dumb.  He doesn’t have anyone else.”  Bucky said.

You nodded.  “I can try.”

“Thanks, doll.”  He said.  “My folks are having a going-away dinner, thing, tomorrow.  Will you come?”

“Sure, Buck.”  You said.

The following night you had dressed up.  Putting on the nicest dress you owned and spending that little bit longer perfecting your hair and makeup.

The event was a strange and surreal mix of somber and excited.  His dad was extremely proud of his boy and kept going on about how many of this or that person he was gonna end up killing while he ruffled Bucky’s hair and put him in a headlock.  It was a little morbid how he kept going on about it.

His mother, on the other hand, looked like she was attending a funeral.  She kept bursting into tears and needing to be reassured by Bucky that everything was going to be fine.

Despite the fact Bucky had been having dinner at your place every week for a year now, you’d actually never met his parents before.  It was weird doing it under these circumstances.  They both definitely seemed to be under the impression that you were dating or something.  His mother kept telling you, that the two of you would have to look after each other while he was gone and his father had very quickly thrown out that there was a chance you could organize the wedding before he was deployed.   You hadn’t wanted to argue with them.  Not under the circumstances at the very least.  Thankfully Bucky was at least smart enough to look embarrassed when it happened.

His siblings were mostly fine though his youngest sister, Rebecca wouldn’t let go of Bucky’s hand for anything and ended up falling asleep in his lap.  Steve kept to himself most of the night and was a little surly when engaged.

“I just want a chance to do what everyone else gets to.  People are out there risking their lives and I’m stuck here watching.”  Steve scowled as you sat beside him.  “Bucky taught me how to fight.  I know how to fight.”

“I know, Steve.  But it’s better this way.  You don’t actually want to be there.”  You said.

“Don’t tell me what I want!”  Steve shouted.

Everyone turned and looked at him.  He puffed out his chest and stood up storming off to the bedroom he shared with Bucky.  Bucky sighed and went after him.  You sat awkwardly with your drink.  He emerged a little later and smiled at you.  “That kinda put a damper on the whole thing.”  He said.  “It’s late, can I walk you home?”

You nodded and stood up.  “Thank you for having me.”  You said.

“Of course, dear.  It was lovely to finally meet you.”  His mother said getting up and coming over to hug you.

“Don’t smother her, ma.”  Bucky teased.

“You’ll visit while James is away?”  She asked.

“Of course, ma’am.”  You said.

“Good.  That’s good.”  She said.

She followed you both to the door and you waved when you got to the bottom of the steps.  When you were sure she was back inside you elbowed Bucky.  “What have you been telling your family?”

“Just the truth.”  He teased.  “About how you were my future wife.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and you elbowed him again.  “You are incorrigible.”

“Sorry about Steve.”  He said.

You shrugged.  “My fault.  He obviously has strong feelings about going.”

Bucky nodded.  “He doesn’t like bullies.”  He said.  “He’s gonna get in trouble.”

“Can’t be worse than the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.”  You said.

“No.  You’re probably right about that.”  He said.  “I’ll be okay.”

You reached over and took his hand, linking your fingers with his.  He looked over at you and smiled.  “What’s this?  Pity handhold.”

You shook your head but you wouldn’t look at him.  The truth was, you had started to wonder why you had kept rejecting him.  You weren’t some notch on his belt he was waiting to carve.  You had been important to him.  Why could you only just see that now?

He stopped walking and turned you to face him.  “I will be okay.”

You nodded and his hand went to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.  “I will.”

“Yeah, you will.”  You said.  More for him than yourself.

“I’ll be back soon enough.  We can explore whatever this is before I ship out if you like.”  He said.

You let out a soft breath.  “This is a momentary lapse of judgment.”

“Oh, I see,”  Bucky said.  “Well, I should take advantage while I can.”

He leaned into you, his lips slightly parted.  You bridged the distance, bringing your lips to his.  He kissed you slowly and tenderly.  There was nothing lewd about it.  He kept his hands on your arms, they didn’t roam or try to take any more from you.  He pulled back slowly and you chased his lips for a moment before opening your eyes, to see his blue ones twinkling down at you.

“We’ll definitely explore that more when I get back.”  He said.

You shook your head.  “I’ll be in my right mind by then.”

He chuckled and put his arm around your waist and continued the short walk to your door.  “Thanks for coming tonight, doll.  I’m glad you were there.”

“Of course, Buck.  Travel safe tomorrow.”   You said.

“It’s not the travel I’m worried about.”  He said and kissed your cheek.  “If you wanted to wait for me, I’d be okay with that.”

You smiled and rubbed his arm.  “Might have to if your ma is going to be planning our wedding.”

He chuckled and you headed inside, a tight feeling in your chest.  You knew he’d be back, but nothing about this felt good to you at all.

// NEXT

[wildegreenlight]

Just

A/N: Hello lovely Romione fans! It seems I have returned from the dead! Ghost!Wilde strikes again! It feels like a million years since I wrote something, and for a while I honestly thought that I may have forgotten how to do the things with the words. It feels good to have had a little time with these two, I had missed them terribly. 

Thanks as always to my DEM crew for keeping me in the loop and for always encouraging me in real-life and in the world of R/Hr. Special thanks to @callieskye for helping my knock the rust off and beta this thing...I owe you a cider! (And if we’re lucky @trademarkblue will join us again!) I love you all 3000!

It was late, too late really. She should have gone down to Ginny’s room ages ago, but she just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving, not quite yet.

Ron sat across from her on the worn rug, bending over a book. The soft glow of the lamp shone from behind him-around him. The warm halo of light made him look like a sunset, or a painting of a saint, Patron Saint of Crossed Signals. For a long moment a smile bunched her cheeks, and she could not tear her eyes away from him- abandoning her customary caution.

“You alright?” Ron had closed the book and was staring at her with an adorably furrowed brow.

“Oh! Yes...sorry...I was just,” yes, Hermione, please, do tell! What were you “just” doing? Just imagining how soft those little wisps of hair curling around his ears would feel? Just fighting the urge to crawl over there and snog the adorable off his face? “Uhhh...thinking”

“Yeah.” He definitely didn’t doubt her answer, and honestly, he probably thought that she was thinking about all the things she should have been thinking about: Harry, Horcruxes...her parents.

Her parents…

Ron had been so, so...well, beyond words wonderful since she had shown up on his doorstep, a barely contained mess. It made her a little lightheaded just thinking about how tenderly he’d held her as she sobbed into the thin fabric of his t-shirt. It felt so right to have him comfort her, reassure her. How was it possible that he could make her feel so strong even at her weakest moments? 

It had really started with the funeral, now that she thought about it. After Dumbledore’s death she knew that the time had come to put her “worst case scenario” plans into action, despite her fears over the sanity and morality of her idea. However, when she had finally told him about the new life she would make for the soon-to-be Wilkinses, his sincere support soothed her anxious nerves. Instead of trying to talk her out of it, or offering to shield her from it, he had listened and agreed and ultimately, best of all, trusted her judgement. That kind of faith in someone else was a rare thing, and she had just begun to appreciate it fully. More than anything, Hermione wanted to be worthy of his faith in her.

The silence settled between them as he conceredly studied her face. He gently placed the book beside him and scooted closer to her, taking the book she had been pretending to read and moving it next to his recently discarded one.

“Why don’t we take a break, yeah?” 

“Sure,” she prayed that he would attribute the tremor in her voice to anything other than her distraction at his fingers brushing against hers. 

“It’s been ages since dinner, want me to go grab you a bite of something, a sandwich maybe?”

Something in the way he asked the question reminded her so much of Molly that she almost looked around for her. She smiled in spite of herself at the image of Ron, apron-clad, enthusiastically offering second servings to a boisterous table of copper-haired children. 

“Not doubting my sandwich making skills are you? I’ll have you know that I’m a genius with two slices of bread, and Mum’s roast, of course.”

Her smile became a chuckle, “I have no doubts...actually that’s what I was thinking about just now.”

“I knew it! I’ll be back in a mo’,” he started to get up, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No, don’t go,” his look grew worried, perhaps she had said it a bit too desperately, “I mean...I was thinking about...you...and well, your Mum...and how,” she searched for the words to make him understand.

“Yeah, I know she’s been right barmy lately. Wedding would have her a mess during the best of times, but pile on the extra dose of mortal peril and it’s like a billywig and a pixie had a very high-strung baby,”  he bumped her with his shoulder playfully.

“True, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so wound up before, but I was actually thinking about how good she is at looking after everyone, and well,” she determinedly continued, afraid she might lose her nerve, “how good you have been about making sure I’m okay, about keeping me okay even when I know that it’s hard for you too.”

“Hermione,” the playful look from mere seconds ago was replaced by something that she couldn’t quite name, “I’m glad that you think I’m helping, you don’t know how much I want to,” he looked down at the floor, searching for the right words, “take care of you...well, not that I think that you can’t take care of yourself...I mean...fuck, I am so bad at this, sorry.”

She dipped her head slightly, drawing his eyes back to hers, “What exactly do you think you are so bad at?”

“Well obviously I’m bad at explaining what I mean, so that’s one thing.”

“Trust me, you are no worse at that than I am,” he shook his head, but she continued, “not to mention that everyone has trouble with that sometimes. What else?”

“The ‘making sure you’re okay’ part,” he put up his hand to stop her automatic rebuttal, “you can’t change my mind...I know we kinda agreed to just forget about it, but I can’t.”

Oh.

She had not expected this. Not at all. They never did this. Once a row was sorted, or was at least adjacent to sorted, they never spoke of it again. Ever. She was instantly conflicted: did she have the courage to hear what he might say? The courage to say what she dreamed of saying?

“I was a shitty friend, there’s no way around that. Even though you don’t need me,” his pause was so small that she almost missed it, “to look after you...you should at least be able to count on me not being a giant arse to you.” 

She knew that at least part of what he said was true; she wouldn’t insult him with a lie, “How about we agree that we were both horrible friends,” the word friends left an odd taste in her mouth: bet Bertie Botts doesn’t have that one!

“You were only horrible because I was more horrible.”

“It’s not a competition, Ron,” she tried to use humor to lighten the intensifying mood, but his look of earnestness did not fade.  “Seriously, you can’t take all the blame, I was just as much at fault.”

“I should’ve never let it go that far.”

Let what get that far, exactly? Their argument? His relationship with Lavender? She didn’t want it to matter to her which he meant, she had worked so hard to be mature about it, but she couldn’t deny exactly what her preference really was. 

“Well, it’s not like you were the only one,” her whole body strained forward, desperate to consume the last few centimeters between them. 

Since his poisoning they had been like two people trying to cross a frozen lake, unsure if the surface would hold, fearful of what lie beneath. Each step they took was tentative, always listening for the telltale crackling sound. She had learned to look for weak spots, and steer clear of them. But now...were they pushing their luck? 

“Sorry, I don’t...I just...want you to know that I’m trying to do better...to be better.”

“You are,” before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out and placed her hand on his knee, “there is no way I could have gotten through the last few weeks without you.”

Covering her hand with his own, he continued in a more confident voice, “You would’ve though... you can do anything you put your mind to...but I do want to make it easier for you if I can. I know what it’s like to be worried about your family...to want to protect them.” 

“And you are! We both are...just in different ways,” she made no attempt to move her hand.

“Yeah, but in the same way too,” when she looked puzzled, he continued, “you know...by helping Harry end this.”

That was it wasn’t it? In the end, they had to get it right, so that they would all be safe.

“Ron, I’m scared. What if I...what if we are in over our heads? I mean, we have so little to go on and so much against us,” she felt her confidence slipping, her voice shaking. 

“Honestly?” after she nodded, he gathered both her hands in his before he continued, “ ‘mnot as worried as maybe I should be, but that’s only because-”

“Because of what?”

“Look, I may not be the smartest bloke in the world,” he continued in spite of her narrowed eyes, “but I do know this.. if I’m gonna be in over my head, there’s no one that I’d want to be there with me, no one I would trust more to make it work.” 

“Really?”

“I may be a prat sometimes, but I have never lied to you...never will.”

“What about Harry?”

“He may lie to you, but I have no control over that,” his eyes twinkled while hers rolled at the joke. “You know I love Harry, but it’s just not the same, ya know?”

Hermione’s heart was hammering in her chest, no, it is not the same with Harry, not at all. “How so?” She knew she was playing thick, leading the witness, but she wanted to actually hear his own words, not the ones she thought he might mean. 

“It’s like Harry is always out there you know? On this “Chosen One” mission, not that he ever asked to be... and it’s like our job to keep him from imminent danger and to keep him from letting that stuff go to his head, to keep him “just Harry” sometimes. But with you,” he glanced down at their joined hands, “with you it feels like sometimes you’re the only one in the world that sees past Harry...to me.”

“I feel the same way...I love Harry too, but I could never tell him the things I tell you,” it was so close to saying what she really wanted to say, “he never makes me feel this...safe.”

“I will do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

“Me too...because I learned something really important this year.”

“That Luna is the best Quidditch announcer Hogwarts has ever seen?” Not even her attempt  to kick his shin made him stop holding her hands.

“I’m just not half as good at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you.” 

For just a moment, she chided herself for saying too much, but the look of pure joy on his face quieted her. Maybe those signals are not as crossed as I thought. She was also fairly certain that if she leaned forward just the tiniest bit that he would meet her in the middle for that kiss she had dreamed about since she was fifteen. Yet somehow this was better. 

“Thank you,” his voice was softer than it had been before.

“For what?”

His thumbs made lazy circles across the backs of her hands,  “For not hating me, for letting me take care of you, even if it’s just a little.”

“Just don’t let it get around; I have to keep up my swotty, know-it-all reputation.”

Ron’s laugh was loud in her ear as he pulled her into a hug. Making him laugh, a real, genuine laugh, was one of the most satisfying feelings; it wasn’t as great as resting her head against his chest, and the two combined were making her giddy. She knew that soon she would have to go downstairs, and soon they would have to leave with Harry to find Horcruxes. Soon they would make a world safe enough for all of them, a world safe enough for that kiss she had dreamed of since she was fifteen.  But for now she was just Hermione, and he was just Ron, and it was just right. 

[flowrxchild]

I was tagged by the sweet @moonchildwildheart thanks lovey! I love these kinds of tags they’re so much fun!! ❤️

What was the last thing you read?

My study notes for an essay T-T

Favourite movie?

Moonrise Kingdom!

Favourite book?

It’s been the Goldfinch for a long time but as of recently I’ve fallen in love with Jenny Slate’s Little Weirds

Dream date?

Ouu like a picnic or stargazing of something like that. Laying face down in the mud under a full moon could be romantic if you rlly think about it.

Do you have a crush?

I don’t think there’s been a moment of my waking life that I havnt...

What are your hobbies?

I love to paint! I used do a lot of art but life’s kept me really busy as of recently and I don’t get to do it as much as I’d like :(

What’s your favourite time of day?

Late afternoon/golden hour! Ik it’s corny but it’s so pretty how could you not be in love???

If you could look like anything, what would you look like?

The Celestial Seasonings Sleetime Tea bear. That’s literally all I want for myself.

Are you romantic?

*leans dramatically on a staircase clutching my forehead* yes.

What’s your favourite type of weather?

Warm and lightly breezy. The opposite of whatever hell it is now in Canada...

What do you like talking about?

Movies and music always. I’m obviously a dork about it.

What are your turn ons?

Attentive affection like when someone touches you when they talk to you or eye contact I’m like 👁👄👁

Turn offs?

Rudeness. If someone’s mean or pushy yuck

If you got a tattoo what would it be and where would you get it?

I have a lot of stick and pokes everywhere that are super random lol but if I had to get an official one it’d probably be something floral on my arm?? I’m too indecisive to be a tattoo person :/

Do you have any pets?

I have a stinker of a black cat named Odin and he’s the loveliest boy to ever be

Dream job?

Something in the film industry...still to be determined

Dream place to live?

In the country? I’ve lived in a big city all my life and I’ve always wanted to be somewhere quieter and more serene

Dream vacation?

I don’t really know tbh...I love traveling anywhere so any trip would be a dream!

Do you have any piercings?

My ears and my cartilage. Used to have my septum but rip to her :(

If you had kids, what would you name them?

I really don’t know I always feel like the only person who doesn’t have a list I think...

What are your best traits?

My sense of humour has gotten me through a lot...Something bad will happen and I am forced to laugh in its face. Call it what it is: big goblin energy...Also I cherish my artistic eye aahasksk

Worst traits?

I’m a horribly distracted person lmao which makes me maybe the worlds worst reciever of information... I’ve been called flightly and disinterested because of it :( im also super anxious and i let it get the best of me sometimes...

What’s your worst fear?

Losing the people I love. Not being able to experience certain things.

What do you want to eat right now?

Im always craving brownies. I could eat a brownie rn I would not complain.

What’s your best vacation you’ve ever been on?

I’ve not traveled a ton but I went to London when I was 16 and I loved every minute of it!

Favourite city?

Gotta be biased and say my home Toronto! Even though I complain about it a lot, it’s raised me well!

Favourite social media platform?

Tumblr and twitter for sure! They’re kind of addictive

Favourite article of clothing?

Right now, it’s my black turtleneck. Gotta love a classic turtleneck ammirite?

Do you play any sports?

Bold of you to assume my bones are able to carry my akward ass in any other form besides walking. When I was a kid my parents forced me to play soccer and I literally used to lay in the field and pretend I was too sick to stand. Like during the game. The melodrama has not toned down since.

Favourite meal of the day?

Dinner I guess? It’s got the most yumminess possibility. The yummy levels are over 9000

What are you excited for?

Christmas break! This semester is beating my ass and I can’t wait for it to no longer be

Not excited for?

My finals.

When was the last time you cried?

Last night over the amount of work I had to do LOL

Dream house?

Omg a cabin or like a cottage home!! uGh itd be a dream!! Jus me and the trees

What’s something you hate about the world?

Injustice, prejudice and ignorance. I have no tolerance for it and there seems to be a lot of it. Wish a lot more people would just have less hate in them.

What’s something you love about the world?

It’s beauty!! Even outside of things that make me frustrated or terrified, the world always shows us reasons to love and reasons to live and I gotta remember that!

What scents do you like?

I love spicy “musky” smells lol I wear a unisex perfume cuz I love warmer smelling stuff like vanilla etc..

What kind of sleeper are you?

Not a good one ahahsjssk

Are you a cat or dog person?

Typically, I’m a dog person but I love cats just the same!

How long would you survive in a zombie apocalypse?

Literally like a couple hours I’d see a singular zombie and immediately fart and die from fear 😔✊🏻

Are you trusting?

I think so? But I have a really strong intuition when it comes to people so i give trust where it’s due

What fictional character do you identify with?

Idk this is a hard one I’m never good at picking one for myself lol

What labels do you commonly get?

I get sensitive a lot.. especially when I was little and I used to hate it cuz I used to see the negative in it but I think us sensitive people have got to start using it as a strength! (And maybe people should be less mean also ahshag)

What song would be your life anthem?

This is another hard one but I guess just my fave song: Jimi Hendrix’ Voodoo Chile?

What issues are you dealing with rn?

Erm school and being anxious I guess...schools been stressing me out and it’s hard going to class when you’re just terrified of everything but I’m working on it so 💩

How can someone win you over?

Literally just be nice I am not hard to win over Loool

What’s something about you people don’t know?

I don’t really talk about it a ton but I’m adhd and was diagnosed super late in life so I spent most of my childhood and teens thinking that I was just a spaz who had a lot to think about but my brain was straight up goofing the whole time lmao I’m slowly starting to learn to cope with it but it’s been a tough journey especially being in uni and trying to do adult things. So I’m sending a hug to anyone else who also suffers because it is not an easy ride <3

I’d like to tag (and ik this is a long one so feel free to ingnore me if u don’t want to) @cantbehandled-ever @satans-helper @seven-seas-of-hi @karrotkate @v-i-d-e-n-o-i-r @lazingonsunday @thatflowerpower @eatmyshiftsticky @shes-outta-sight @pvre-mourning @aint-no-denying @dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade ⭐️✨⭐️✨⭐️✨

[snickerl]

Of Monsters and Men, and a Woman - Part II.

- Wine smells better than smoke. -

I was asked to write a sequel. I’m sorry it took me so long. Life, work, and a three-week-vacation in Scotland got in the way but here it is now. If you want to familiarize yourself with part I, you will find it here. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

————————–

Jackson didn’t know how long he had been looking outside lost in thought. Next to him in the back seat of the car, Dana was sleeping peacefully. Her head was tilted to the side so her face was turned to him. Jackson studied her face and recognized features he saw when he looked in the mirror: the freckles on her nose, the high cheekbones, the angular jaw. His hair had been reddish as a child but had become darker once he had hit puberty. The color resembled Mulder’s more now, who was sitting in the front steering silently. Jackson looked at the back of his birth father’s head and realized their hair was pretty much alike: dark brown, thick, shiny. He hadn’t shared any resemblances with his mama and pops. Of course not, they had been his adoptive parents, these were the parents whose genetic material he shared. 

Maybe he should stop talking about them like this, labeling them his adoptive versus his birth parents. Maybe it was time to accept he had two sets of parents. One that had raised him and had given him the best childhood he could think of, and one who had always been there and had always cared about him but only now had the ability to act as parents. It broke his heart when he thought about how cruelly the Van De Kamps had been murdered but it also filled him with immense relief to know that he wasn’t alone. And this Mulder-and-Scully duo (he still found it a bit weird that they called each other by their last names) gave him the impression they knew what they were doing. They seemed capable of standing up to his enemies. They sure stood up against that smoking jerk, especially Dana, no matter how hopeless their situation had appeared to be or that she was so much smaller physically.

The car was coming to a halt in front of a steel gate. Mulder turned around and looked at him. “Would you mind opening that gate for me, Jackson?" 

"Not at all,” Jackson said unbuckling his seat belt. “Do you see the input box at that pole over there? The code it 1013. And close it again behind us, please. Make sure it’s securely locked.” “Yes, sir,” Jackson couldn’t help replying to the more than explicit request. He jumped out of the car and pushed the gate open. It was heavy and creaked quite a bit. He wondered where they were. It was pitch dark, the headlights of the car were the only source of light, they hadn’t come by any sign of human habitation for the past half hour, and now these security measures. Jackson asked himself where they were taking him. Mulder drove slowly through the gate Jackson was holding and waited until he had pushed it back shut. The boy heard a click and rattled it a little to check if the bolt had latched completely. The light at the input pad, which had turned green when he had typed in the code, switched back to red. Everything seemed fine, so he hopped back in the car. “When Dana said you had a house in the countryside I didn’t expect it to be that far away from human civilization,” Jackson deadpanned while buckling up again. He had no idea how much longer the trip would be. Mulder chuckled. “Yeah, well, we’ve come to appreciate a certain quiet and isolation from the rest of the world. There was a time we didn’t want to be found. By anyone.”   Jackson let the words sink in. What was he to make of them? Had they been in a situation like this before? Having to flee and hide from people pursuing them? He didn’t have time to ponder about it much longer as a few minutes later a house came into view. A nice two-story building with gray roofing shingles, green wooden window frames, and a porch. A lamp illuminated the steps leading up to the front door. The place looked cozy and inviting. It actually reminded Jackson a bit of his first home, the Van De Kamp farmhouse in Wyoming, only that it had been much larger with stables for cattle and pasture lands surrounding it, but the place had evinced the same emotions in him: homecoming, comfort, safety. 

Mulder parked the car in front of the porch and cut the engine. He turned around in his seat, looked at Scully who was still sleeping, smiled, then squeezed her knee gently. “Hey, sleepyhead, wake up. We’re home.” It was inconceivable that she was able to sleep after what had happened, Jackson thought. She either had been totally drained or so full of trust for that Mulder guy. Said Mulder guy obviously knew what Jackson was thinking. “She can stay awake for more than 36 hours straight if need be, on a stakeout or at a patient’s bed in the hospital, but in a car when she’s not driving or reading a case file, she’s asleep in no time. It’s a gift. I wished I was able to do that. I am a notoriously bad sleeper.” Mulder got out of the car, opened the door in the back and bent down to pull her sleeping form out when she stirred. Her eyes opened abruptly, she lifted her head and straightened herself up. “Mmmm, I must have dozed off for a second,” she said, her voice a sleepy mumble. “Yes, sure, Scully. Just for a second, as always,” Mulder said. Jackson bit back a chuckle. This was obviously a well-known, recurring pattern in their lives. Scully shook her head a little to get rid of the last remnants of sleep and swatted Mulder’s hand away from her knee. “Now let me get out. You weren’t thinking of carrying me, were you?” Mulder put his hands up as if he had been told to freeze. He got up from his bent posture, stepped back and sighed. “No, of course not. Heaven forbid that you are not in charge for a split-second.”   Mulder was annoyed for a moment. Why was it so difficult for her to let him carry her, either figuratively or literally? She had allowed herself to be weak in his arms a few times lately: in the morgue after she had given her speech to what they had believed was their long-lost son in a body bag or in the motel when she hadn’t been able to sleep during that hangman case. She had even admitted her fear that he might find someone else one day. Someone else…what nonsense! As if there could ever be anyone else for Mulder than Scully.   Jackson noticed the slight tension between them but was distracted from thinking about it by a high-pitched barking. “You have a dog?” he asked, his memory going back to the dog he had as a child: Champ, a Golden Retriever who had followed his every step.

“Yes,” Mulder answered, “his name is Daggoo. He’s Scully’s actually. She stole him from a crime scene.” “I didn’t steal him. I saved him from the animal shelter,” Scully defended herself. “Secretly scheming to move him in with me because you weren’t allowed to have pets at your place.” “Oh come on, you’ve got so much more space and you can’t deny that walking him three times a day is doing you good.” “I’ve always loved how you’re able to manipulate people into thinking something’s good for them when it’s actually good for you,” Mulder said with a smile on his lips. “I don’t have to remind you what happened to Queequeg, Mulder, do I? You owed me.”   Mulder only sighed at Scully’s stern look. 

Jackson had followed their banter, glad on the one hand that the moment of tension had subsided, but also irritated that they had been talking of my place/your place. He had thought they were living together, that they were a couple. They had had him, made him ‘in an act of love’ as Dana had said, they had to have been together at some point. Had they ever been married? Their different last names left him guessing.   Mulder had opened the front door in the meantime. A white/brown terrier was jumping down the stairs yelping happily and wiggling his tail so much that his whole body was shaking heavily; as if he knew they were coming home from a dreadful endeavor and needed some cheering up. Jackson’s eyes lit up when he saw him and because dogs sensed instinctively who liked them and who didn’t he made toward the boy immediately and jumped up against his legs. “Daggoo, down!” Scully berated him but Jackson wasn’t minding the animal’s affection one bit. “It’s okay, I love dogs,” he said kneeling down petting him behind his ears. “Good boy,” he cooed, “you’re such a beauty, do you know that?” Daggoo licked his hand in return. It was love at first sight between them obviously. Mulder and Scully exchanged a short glance, relief written on their faces. Their dog (they could banter as much as they wanted about 'my dog/your dog’, he really and truly was theirs) had conjured a bright smile on their son’s face for the first time since they had been reunited and they enjoyed seeing him so cheerful. Each of them made a silent promise to themselves to do everything in their power to make Jackson’s life happy and carefree again. They watched the boy and the dog for a moment longer, then Mulder ushered everyone inside. Jackson looked around and felt instantly at home. The living room wasn’t tidied up, there were magazines lying around everywhere, a greasy pizza carton resided atop a coffee table and a blanket had been thrown haphazardly on the couch, but that was exactly what made the place homey. Scully saw it slightly differently though. “Goodness, when did you last clean this place up, Mulder?” Bang! Another sign she wasn’t living here. Jackson slowly familiarized himself with the idea that his birth parents - his parents - weren’t a couple. What would this mean for him? Would they take turns caring for him? Like his best friend Pete spent his weekends alternately at his mom’s and dad’s? Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to have called for them after all. But where would he be now without them? With the Smoking Man? Believing this asshole was his father? Jackson’s insides tied a knot. No, he was definitely better off with them than without, no matter what the status of their relationship was. In any case, they were on good terms with each other, that much was clear. They would have to join forces to make this work for him. They owed him that much after they had given him up for adoption, didn’t they? “I don’t mind the mess,” he came to Mulder’s rescue. “No, of course, you don’t,” Scully mumbled more to herself than to Jackson, “you’re also a man. I will never understand how one can live in such a mess. What has gone wrong in evolution to burden us with such a neglectful gender when it comes to housework?” She sighed deeply, picking up the pizza carton and throwing it into a trash can. She opened a cabinet, took a cleaning rag out, opened another one which contained the cleaning agents, soaked the rag with water and dishwashing liquid, wrung it out above the sink, then started wiping the coffee table. At least she knew her way around the place, Jackson thought. If she really didn’t live here, she was a frequent guest at least. She definitely moved around as if she was at home. She was folding the blanket now and placed it on the couch’s backrest before she took care of the throw pillows, shaking them out and arranging them in an orderly fashion. “See, this is something we men will never understand. What is the purpose of an exact arrangement of pillows on a sofa?” Mulder asked shedding his dirty jacket and throwing it carelessly on a chair. “Can you explain to me the scientific nature of pillow arranging, Dr. Scully?” “It looks nice and tidy, Mulder. It’s aesthetic. It makes the place appear maintained instead of neglected and run-down,” she explained slightly irritated. And as if to strengthen her point, she lifted the jacket off the chair with two fingers and left the room. A moment later a loud thud could be heard, most likely the door of the washing machine.  

Jackson threw Mulder a glance who only shrugged. This was all very familiar to the boy, he had witnessed interactions like this a million times between his parents. His other parents. Jeez, having four parents instead of two wasn’t easily put into words. Scully re-entered the living room where Mulder and Jackson were still standing at the same spot, only Daggoo had moved and was making himself comfortable on one of the cushions she had just arranged. She looked at him and sighed, “et tu, Brute?” Jackson didn’t know what that meant and he also didn’t care that much. He was hungry. He hadn’t had a decent meal in days having been on the run from his pursuers. “Uhm, you said we could have something to eat,” he reminded them. “Right, sure. I’m afraid the fridge isn’t well-stocked,” Mulder said and Scully chuckled loudly enough to strengthen her point about men and housekeeping. “But we can order something in. What would you like, Jackson? Italian, Thai? Or a burger maybe?” “A burger would be great. With bacon and cheese, if it’s possible.” “Sure. Fries?” Jackson nodded and watched how Mulder pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Wasn’t he going to ask what Dana wanted, he wondered. She didn’t seem to ask herself the same though. Uninvolved in the process of deciding on the food, she slipped out of her shoes, put her feet on the coffee table, reached over to Daggoo and started petting him gently. Jackson listened as Mulder placed his order. “Two deluxe double bacon cheeseburgers, please. Onion rings, two large orders of regular fries and one of the sweet potato fries. Make the sweet fries unsalted. A mixed salad with extra arugula instead of the radicchio, no onions but mushrooms, and the non-fat Italian dressing. …  Deliver, please. The name is Mulder. 227700 Wallace Road, Farrs Corner. …  Yes, I know how far out it is. Tell Pete to give me a call when he’s at the gate. I will meet him down there. He knows the procedure. … Thanks. Bye.” He winked at Jackson when their eyes met and added, “Pete knows he gets a generous tip.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Jackson that Mulder knew exactly what to order for Dana, and her choice wasn’t exactly mundane. The sweet potato fries were also for her, he presumed. Which real guy ate sweet potato fries? Unsalted, to top it. And if messy homes were typical for men, salads with non-fat dressings were typical for women. No wonder she was so tiny and thin. If her diet had consisted more of greens than anything since her youth, her body had simply lacked the nutrients to grow. At least that was what mama had always told him. “Eat your steak and potatoes, Jackson, so you grow up fit and strong!” He was glad he had inherited his height from Mulder and not from Dana. Small women were cute and evoked a man’s protective instinct (Jackson was sure though that she hated her stature had this effect on men) but small men were a target of mockery. He was even taller than Mulder, and he was only seventeen. Maybe he would still grow a couple of inches. When Mulder got back with dinner, Scully and Jackson had already laid the table. They ate mostly in silence, Mulder and Jackson eating with their hands gobbling down their food like hungry wolves, Scully picking listlessly at her salad with a fork. The unsalted sweet potato fries remained untouched but Jackson watched how delicate manicured fingers made their way into the box with the regular fries. She put a handful of the salty, greasy food into her mouth, chewed and swallowed, licked her fingers with relish, which was then followed by a satisfied hum. Mulder didn’t even look up as all of this happened, he registered it out of the corner of his eye and just smirked slightly. Jackson couldn’t help but think that they acted so much like a married couple; as if they had known each other for years and years. How could they not be living at this place together? Well, he would get more hints about their relationship once the sleeping arrangements were discussed. When they had finished their food and Scully got up to clear the table, Mulder grabbed her wrist and made her sit back down. “Nuh-uh, Scully, let the neglectful gender take care of this. How about you make yourself comfortable on the sofa with Daggoo?” “Nice idea, Mulder, but someone has to change the sheets in the guest room. I can’t see you taking care of this after my last sleepover.” With this, she vanished into the hallway and left Mulder and Jackson alone with a very uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jackson addressed the elephant in the room. He needed clarity anyway, he might as well ask. 

“I thought you guys were married.” “Uh, no, we’re not.” “So you’re divorced.” Jackson simply assumed they had to be divorced if they weren’t married. They had a child together, him, so they had to be married sometime in the past. He wasn’t prudish or anything, he knew people had sex without being married, but where he came from people got married when they wanted to have children. “No. We…erm, we never got married.” “Well, it makes sense then,” Jackson said. “What makes sense?” “That your last names are different.” “Our last names don’t have much to do with it, actually. Even if we had gotten married, I doubt we would ever have been Mr. and Mrs. Mulder. I guess we simply missed the right moment to tie the knot. I asked her once to marry me but she didn’t believe I was serious.” “Were you?” “Hmm…I don’t know. Maybe not a hundred percent. But if she’d said yes, I wouldn’t have regretted asking.” “And the topic has never come up again?” “No.” “Not even from her?” “No.” “Strange. I thought all women wanted to get married and have kids.” “Scully isn’t like other women. Her independence is very important to her. We weren’t any less committed to each other because we weren’t married, that’s for sure. Maybe that’s why. Our commitment to one another was so strong, we didn’t need a wedding certificate to prove it.” “Whatever, you spared yourselves an ugly divorce with your separation.” “What makes you think we’re separated?” “Well, you’ve been talking about 'mine’ and 'yours’ a lot, like separated people do. Daggoo is her dog that cannot stay at her place but needs to stay at yours. The mess we stumbled into also was yours, Dana made that clear. And she sleeps in the guest room. All of that cries out 'separation’. I have a good power of observation.” Jackson had seen it happening to a friend’s family. Everything that had belonged to the family before became branded with 'mine’ and 'yours’ all of a sudden. His friend’s mom even sawed through the leather couch with a chainsaw just to get even with her former husband who had cheated on her. “Hmm, you have a point but…uhm, how is the fact she’s called this our house when we were in the car fit into your theory?” “Freudian slip?” Mulder chuckled. “That would never happen to Scully.” Looking at Jackson’s puzzled face he added, “I’m sorry, pal, this must all be very confusing. This is our house, we bought it together and lived in it together. We lived like a married couple for many years and people mistook us as married many times but we never actually were married.” “Lived. Not live. Like in we did that in the past but not anymore.” Mulder sighed heavily before he answered. “Right, that’s over. Look, Jackson, our lives have always been…difficult and complicated. Due to our work. There was a time we thought we could leave it all behind us, at least Scully did. She wanted a restart so badly. She’d lost so much because of our work, most importantly you, and all she wanted was normalcy. A job, a home, a partner to share her life with. And I tried to give it to her, all of it, but I failed her. I couldn’t let go of my quest for the truth, and I ruined everything. So, one day the inevitable happened: she packed her things and left to save herself from being pulled underwater with me. She needed to get out of here to be able to breathe. But Scully wouldn’t be Scully if she left me to my fate. She still cared. She looked after me and helped me find my way again.” “And what’s your status now? I mean, you take care of her dog, you know exactly what food to order for her, she stays over…” “We’ve never stopped being friends. We’ve never stopped…caring deeply for each other. She just doesn’t live here anymore.”   Mulder felt a bit awkward talking to his son so openly about his romantic feelings for Scully, that they had never stopped loving each other, but the boy deserved to know, didn’t he? “I just don’t want to impose.” “Impose?” Mulder didn’t understand. His face apparently showed his puzzlement because Jackson explained, “I don’t want to force the two of you together, you know. I don’t want you to think you have to do all this,” he was fidgeting with his hands in the air making clear he meant what was happening at this very moment in this house, “just because of me.” “Just because of you?” Mulder parroted, disbelief threaded into his voice. “Are you crazy, Jackson? You are the best thing that ever happened to us. You’ve been our miracle. The time you were with us was the happiest time of our lives. It was much too short, especially for me, but neither of us ever wanted to miss it. We’ll figure this out. We’ll figure us out. You simply have to trust us. I know it’s not easy after what we’ve done but…” Mulder stopped abruptly when Scully’s purposeful steps could be heard on the floorboard. She was making her way back to them and he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know of Jackson’s concerns about their relationship and his staying with them. “Your room is all set, Jackson,” she said entering the living room. “It’s upstairs on the right. I left a towel on the bed in case you’d like to take a shower. Is there anything else you need?” The delight in her eyes told Mulder how much she enjoyed doing this and the thought that their son felt uncomfortable about it clasped his heart with a cold fist. “Thanks,” was all Jackson mumbled. He didn’t even look at Scully. She either didn’t notice or didn’t want to acknowledge it. She continued undeterred, “if you need anything, we’ll be down here. Just ask.” He did ask, laying his finger right into the wound. “Where are you guys sleeping? Just in case I need something at night.” The question was dangling between them for a moment, both Scully and Mulder taken off guard by the directness of it. Jackson held his breath, quite aware it was a delicate issue. He wondered who would take the initiative and answer, and, of course, how. It was Mulder who was able to find his voice again. “The master bedroom is also upstairs, at the other side of the hallway,” he answered, avoiding the issue of who would be sleeping in there. He wasn’t sure what Scully’s sleeping arrangement would look like. They had shared a bed a few times recently - platonically and two times not so platonically - but she hadn’t moved back in. On her nights over she had always insisted they slept apart, Mulder in the master bedroom and her in the guest room. They were far from resuming their romantic relationship. He wasn’t even sure if they were in anything other than a relationship of friendly co-workers. Or co-working friends? Well, they were co-working best friends formerly lovers, if he was precise. To him, she was still his constant, his touchstone, that had never ceased to be the truth, but he wasn’t sure what she saw in him. Well, he could go around the status of their relationship over and over until he went mad, whatever it was, it was so them: complicated, in-flux, undefined. Mulder caught Jackson’s questioning look and held it, hoping he would leave it at that. He didn’t want Scully to feel obliged to explain or even defend herself. They were all exhausted from what had happened in the factory, now wasn’t the time to discuss their long-term future. They needed sleep and when they were replenished, they could have a talk. To Mulder’s immense relief, he watched how tiredness was overwhelming Jackson. His eyelids drooping, he yawned extensively. Mulder let the breath out he had been holding when Jackson finally acquiesced. “Okay, I think I should get some shut-eye.” With this, the boy turned around and headed for the stairs. Mulder and Scully looked after him. Their eyes remained trained at the top of the stairs until their son disappeared from their view. They listened to a door open and close and eventually to the shower being turned on. “Goodnight, my son,” Scully whispered to herself, hiccuping a sob which awakened Mulder from his trance-like state. He looked at her and realized she was shaking. The last few weeks were finally taking their toll on her. Mulder knew how much it took to make Scully break down. What had happened since she had realized her seizure was caused by her lost son who tried to communicate with her definitely was enough to make her falter. She was inches away from shattering into a million pieces, like a crystal glass bursting to a high note sung by an opera singer. Mulder turned toward her and pulled her into an embrace. The willingness with which she was giving in told him he had assessed the situation correctly. She melted into him, laying her head against his chest. She wasn’t wearing her heels anymore and their height difference was at its maximum expression. Mulder had always loved it when she was like that, bare of all the paraphernalia of Professional Scully. She allowed only a handful of people to see her without the makeup to hide her freckles and the sensual mole on her upper lip, the business suit to cover her feminine curves, and the heels to make her taller than she actually was. And he was lucky to be one of those few people. They stayed like this, mute and still, for a long time. Eventually, Scully took a deep breath and pulled back, a clear sign she had regained her strength. But she didn’t let go of Mulder completely. She looked into his eyes and smiled. “How about a glass of red wine, Mulder? I think I’m too stirred up to be able to sleep although I’m totally drained. Do you have a nice bottle somewhere?” “What about the one Skinner gave us when we signed the sales contract for this house?” “You still have that bottle?” “It’s a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, it needs to rest a long time. Wine of this quality gets better with age. Just like us,” he added with a smile. “I’ve waited for the right moment to open it and if this is not a good moment to have a first-class wine I don’t know what is. You make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll go and fetch it.” He knew exactly where the bottle was, where he had put it all those years ago when Skinner had handed it to him with a smile on his face. Their boss had been as happy and confident as them that settling permanently into a house would be the beginning of a new life for them. It hadn’t come quite as they all had hoped. With Mulder sliding into a depression and Scully thriving as a doctor in her new job they had slowly grown apart. Funny that a relationship so unique as theirs had been susceptible to a development so cliché. But that had been then and now was now. Their son was sleeping peacefully upstairs, they were on the right track repairing their relationship, this was the perfect moment to open this bottle. When he returned from the pantry where he had indeed found the 2008 Châteauneuf-du-Pape exactly where he thought it would be, Scully had already resumed her place on the couch next to Daggoo who was snoring slightly in his sleep. A corkscrew and two red wine glasses were waiting for them on the coffee table, most certainly placed on coasters. Scully hated stains on the table’s surface. Mulder placed himself next to her and leaned his back against the backrest. He was holding the bottle in his hands and looked at the label. Skinner had written something on it which had faded over time and was hardly legible anymore. He pulled his new glasses out - progressives, no bifocals - and tried to decipher the words. He had never been good at reading Skinner’s scribble, Scully was so much better at it. “Scully, can you read this?” he asked, passing the bottle to her. She looked at the label and squinted. “I think so,” she said. She didn’t even need glasses. “What does it say? Are you going to tell me?” “It says, 'Always remember who your friends are. Skinner.’ That’s it.” Mulder took the bottle back to open it. He carefully inserted the corkscrew, cautious not to damage the cork which could be brittle after such a long time. After he had pulled it out, he checked for a corky smell but it seemed fine. He poured some of the red liquid into their glasses, the rest into a decanter. The wine would need time to breathe to develop its full taste. He handed a glass to Scully, they clinked, then put the glasses to their lips. Scully only hummed when the liquid was running down her throat, Mulder clicked his tongue. “Jeez, this is good,” he said. “It sure is,” she agreed. “What he wrote on the label makes me think, Mulder.” “Think what?” “That Skinner has always been our friend. That we’ve been unfair to him probably, having thought he betrayed us. Remember when he came to the hospital after my seizure and you started a fight with him?” “He’d acted weird and he did smell like smoke.” “Yes, he did, but we should’ve given him credit instead of assuming he’d be working against us. Looking back at it now, I believe that he was indeed coming to us after a meeting with the Smoking Man, a meeting where he had probably been told about Spender’s deluded idea that he was Jackson’s biological father. Skinner tried to keep this information from us, Mulder. He tried to protect us from it. He has always been our friend, and we were too paranoid to see it.” “We weren’t paranoid, Scully. The threat was real. I had just stopped a man from suffocating you by cutting his throat and then Skinner came stumbling in after having been unreachable for hours, smelling like smoke and wearing a face so explicitly blank…what were we supposed to make of it?” “And still, we should’ve known that he would never switch sides. He’s an honest soul who’s covered our asses more than once.”

“That’s true enough, but when it comes to you, Scully, I will never risk trusting the wrong people.” “Trust no one, huh?” “That motto saved our lives a few times.” Some of the occasions he was referring to came to Scully’s mind. She put the glass to her lips with a sigh and took another sip. The wine had breathed enough already to develop some of the rich, red-fruit aroma and herbaceous note for which it was famous. Scully hummed delightfully. “This really is a good wine, Mulder. I’m glad you remembered you had this in your pantry. You’re not stocked as badly as I thought,” she teased him.   Under normal circumstances, Mulder would have taken her remark as the opening of one of their casual banters but the circumstances weren’t normal. His son was resting safely upstairs in the guest room, or rather the son he had always believed was his. He had heard things tonight that made him doubt his fatherhood. “Is it really true, Scully?” he asked abruptly without any adequate introduction. “Is what true, Mulder?” “That I am his father?” Scully took a sharp intake of breath. She set her glass aside, turned toward Mulder and looked him in the eye. She then took his glass out of his hand and placed it next to hers on the coffee table. Taking his hands in hers, feeling his slight tremor, she gave them a reassuring squeeze before she started speaking.   “Yes, you are his father. I’d been feeling it so strongly from the moment I was told that I was pregnant. You were missing, then gone, and for so many months I believed the baby growing inside me was to be my only connection to you. I knew it was yours.”   “But you ran multiple tests anyway.” “You know me, I seek proof of what I want myself to take as fact. And I got myself proof. I am a thorough scientist, Mulder, my proof is one hundred percent reliable. You are Jackson’s father, the DNA doesn’t lie. If you want, and if Jackson is okay with it, we can do another paternity test.” “No, I trust your scientific evaluation, Scully. I always have.” They smiled at each other briefly before Scully’s expression changed. Mulder’s face had been the one marked by worry a moment ago, now it was hers. “Do you think he will stay with us?” she voiced her concern. “I hope so.” “We just got him back,” Scully whispered close to tears, “I don’t want to lose him again.” “Me neither, but I guess him sleeping upstairs is a good sign. He trusts us. He protected me when he…erm, got rid of those Purlieu people coming after us.” “You mean when he made their bodies explode?” “Yeah, well, our son does have extraordinary abilities. Given all the weird stuff I’ve seen, this wins first prize but what I was getting at is that he made sure I wasn’t harmed. And today he also got us out of there. He wants us to able to be there for him.” “I hope you’re right. If I could be his mother again…” Scully hiccuped. “You have always been his mother, Scully. Maybe he isn’t aware of it, but I am.” “Thank you, Mulder.” They gazed at each other and Mulder’s heart was overflowing with compassion for Scully. How much had this woman had to endure? How come she was still sane and hadn’t gone completely mad after what life had burdened her with? He admired her so much for her strength.   “Jesus Christ, I so want to kiss you right now, Scully. May I?" 

Anxiety over possible rejection was creeping up Mulder’s spine when a tear started running down her cheek but he had to finish what he had started. When she nodded, more tears spilling, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her as softly as he could. This wasn’t about passion but about companionship, about a life lived together, about an unwavering feeling of love for her. 

"We will make this work, Scully. I am sure of it. You, me, and Jackson. We will make this…this family thing work. Maybe he will never call us mom and dad but somehow we will manage to be parents to him.”

Scully leaned into Mulder and put her head on his shoulder. She hummed silently and took another sip of wine. 

“This is nice, Mulder. You and me together here on this couch, this wonderful wine, our son upstairs in the room I had always thought would have been his if things had been different.” Mulder thought back to his earlier conversation with Jackson, how insecure the boy had been about their current relationship and how he fit in. 

“Let’s give it try, Scully. Let’s give Jackson a stable structure, something which comes close to what he had with his adoptive parents. He still is a kid, he shouldn’t have to doubt where he belongs. I want him to feel he belongs to us. Move back in.” His words echoed in the silence that followed. Mulder couldn’t see her reaction to his bold suggestion as Scully’s head was nestled against the spot where his shoulder met his neck. He already feared he had pushed too hard when he heard her whisper, “but there’s no extra room for me anymore.” “Do we really need an extra room? The guest room has always been intended to be his, not yours. Our bed is too big for me alone, it never felt good sleeping in it on my own. I wish for nothing more than us being together again. Not only as co-workers but as partners. Life partners. We could make it legal even, maybe adopt him back if we can. We could be a family. Officially, for everyone to see. The Mulders. Or the Scullys, if you want. I don’t care. I only care about us, us three being together.” Scully straightened and pushed herself back from Mulder. She looked at him with wide eyes. Putting her hand on his forehead, she stammered, “are…are you running a f-fever, Mulder?” “I’m in my right mind, and I am serious.” “Fox William Scully?” she offered, giving him her trademark arching eyebrow. “Mr. Dana Scully,” he replied with a boyish grin, “sounds good to me.” Scully brushed a tear off her cheek and laughed. “I’ll ask you again tomorrow when you’re down from your high; whatever caused it.” Mulder left it at that. He knew there was no use arguing now. She probably needed time to let his suggestion sink in, or rather his proposal. He had really and truly proposed to her! How many years had he waited now to pop the question a second time? What an irony that again she didn’t believe he meant what he said, that he was under the influence of something clouding his judgment. She couldn’t be further from the truth. He was as sober and clear in his head as humanly possible and he had no problems at all asking her again tomorrow. He would ask her as often as necessary until she considered his proposal to be credible. Scully nestled back into Mulder’s side and put her feet on the coffee table. He placed his long legs alongside hers, his thigh touching hers. When her head was back at its prior resting place on his shoulder he kissed her hair. This was exactly how it was supposed to be, he didn’t need more to be happy. Scully in his arms, hopefully, his wife-to-be, his son upstairs in the second bedroom, and the prospect of a family life. It almost ached physically to imagine a happy future was waiting for him around the corner. And then Scully said something that made his heart skip a beat. 

“You should ask Skinner to be your best man.” Now it was Mulder who dissolved their snuggling position. Sitting up straight with eyes wide as saucers and his heart in his mouth, he stammered, “what? Was…was that a yes, Scully? Do I have to check you for fever now?” She laughed wholeheartedly, a sound which had always made his heart swell. “If you could only see your face, Mulder! There’s terror written all over it. You haven’t seen this coming, have you, Mr. Scully?” “You always keep me guessing.” Mulder resumed his prior position next to her. He took her free hand which rested on her thigh and intertwined their fingers. “So? Are we engaged now?” he asked tentatively. “I think so,” Scully answered. “Wow.” “Yeah, wow.”  

On the landing at the top of the stairs, there was another person thinking the same: Wow! They are doing this for me! Jackson had been on his way down to get a glass of water when he had heard his name. He was touched by how anxious they were about him and how much they wanted to make this work. And suddenly they had been talking about marriage and Mulder had even suggested reinstating their parenthood by reversing the adoption. Jackson wasn’t sure what he thought about it, if it would feel like he betrayed the Van De Kamps if he became a Mulder. But no, wait a minute, if at all, he would become a Scully. Jackson Scully…it sounded unfamiliar but okay. Another idea sneaked itself into his mind on its own accord. What if…? No! That wasn’t really an option, was it? Maybe, it was. Maybe it was exactly the right thing to mark this new phase of his life. What if he took his old name? His birth name? If Mulder was willing to let go of his name to mark their family bond, he could do the same, William Scully didn’t sound so bad. William Jackson Scully. He let the name roll off his tongue in a whisper. Fox, Dana and William Scully. The Scullys. It would be the three of them against the rest of the world. It was a soothing thought that made Jackson smile. He abandoned his plan to get some water and retreated to his room. He didn’t want to disturb them downstairs. If they were to kiss again, he didn’t want to be ogling. Jackson had just left his observation post and was closing the door to the guest room behind him as Mulder was cupping Scully’s face and leaning in to kiss her. The boy had escaped his parents’ caresses for now but was doomed to witness them over and over in the time to come.

[lovehugsandcandy]

Who Killed Jason Shaw? Chapter 6: Logan (RoD, Colt x MC)

Summary: Ellie visits Logan as her dad’s investigation moves along.

Rating: R (discussions of death)

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: ~1900 words

Ellie was shocked, astounded, when she entered the silent dining room the next morning to find her dad sitting there, obviously waiting for her, table set with two full cups of coffee and two heaping breakfasts.

“Sit.”

She sat. Waiting.

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked. This was definitely not how she thought this conversation would start.

“I apologize. I lost my temper at your friend-”

“My boyfriend.”

Her dad winced. “Boyfriend, then. Planning on bringing him around for dinner?”

“Not anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked in front of her. She could hear her stomach rumbling and would die for a sip of coffee, fingers twitching, aching to reach for the food in front of her. She waited, not moving.

“Ellie. You just....you don’t know what I see. Out there, gangs feuding for no reason, kids wrapping themselves around trees. I just worry...it’s why I make sure my old cruiser in the the driveway when I drive by on night shift. It’s why I didn’t let you go out in high school. It’s why you can’t date a gang banger.”

“It’s why you forcibly pulled me out of the car?”

“I lost my head and I apologize.” He leaned closer, eyes intent on her. “But Ellie,  one of them killed Shaw and Kaneko has all the motive in the world. You can’t associate with that!”

She stood up. “I’m an adult and I’ll associate with whoever I want!”

“Ellie, you’re making a stupid mistake!” Her dad stood as well, eyeing her. “He’s not worth your time. You need to go back to school and-”

“I get to decide what I do, dad. Not you. Not anymore.” She crossed her hands over her chest. “It’s my life. My choices.”

“You live under this roof, you-”

“We’re not doing this again.This didn’t end so well last time. For either of us.” She shook her head and grabbed her things. “I’ll talk to you later.” She attributed it to personal growth, the fact that she gently closed the front door behind her and he surprisingly refrained from screaming at her. Baby steps.

~~~~~

After an emergency stop for coffee, she headed out of the city proper, where the air got fresher and the homes bigger with every block, every step. Finally, she pulled up in front of a gleaming auto body shop, stopping for a second to marvel at the two-story building, definitely a leg up over Kaneko Auto Body. At this point, Colt’s shop was a clean, if mostly empty, room that housed a motorcycle and a loft bedroom; this looked like it could house a mansion.

She jumped when someone knocked at her window. Rolling it down, she stared at the lanky teenager in front of her. “Dropping your car off, Miss?”

She blinked. “Are you a valet?”

“I can drive your car through the bay doors for you if you would prefer to head right into the waiting room, where we have a television, magazines, and coffee waiting for you right though-”

“Jesus, stop.” She held up her hands. “I’m just here to visit a friend. Logan? A mechanic?”

“Ah, of course, miss.” He nodded, a obsequious mini-bow that made Ellie flinch. “I can park your car for you in the visitor lot, if you prefer.”

She blinked. If it were her car, she wouldn’t allow it, would only allow a select few, hand-chosen individuals the privilege of driving her bright pink European import. But her dad’s old cruiser? She hopped out and tossed over the keys before traipsing away. He could wrap it around a tree for all she cared.

When she floated through the automatic doors, she had to stare. The inside was as polished as the outside, cool metal as far as the eye could see. Damn. Apparently, this was how the other half lived. And, at the far bay, a familiar figure in a white t-shirt was hunched next to the grill on a pristine white Lambo.

Ellie let out a whistle as she got closer. “This place has a valet?”

“And the best mechanic in all of LA.” Logan stood up, wiping his hands on a rag before wrapping her up in a hug. She leaned in, hands tight around his waist, squeezing him tight. “ Hey, Troublemaker. How are you?”

“I’m good.” She could feel the stress leaving her body; it had been far too long since she had seen him. “How are you? These are impressive digs!”

“I mean, I can’t take any credit for it. It’s alright.” He shrugged, looking around with a grin. “Sure beats Kaneko's shop, though.”

She poked his rib. “Hey. Watch it. I happen to have a soft spot for that place.”

“You have a soft spot for the owner, you mean, one that he definitely doesn’t deserve.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”

She followed him, past the eager valet at the front desk, out onto the street and down a block, closer to the ocean. She could smell the salt in the air and they sat on a bench in a quiet neighborhood, overlooking a small park. As she watched a pair of kids play tag, she could almost believe that everything was normal, that they were just a couple of friends enjoying the spring day, with no murder investigation hanging over their heads.

“Alright, Trouble. How are you really?”

“I’m ok.” She studied him, the dark underneath his eyes, the way his teeth dug into his lip. “How are you?”

“I’m ok, too. How’s your dad’s investigation?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed, leaning back against the faded wood. “He doesn’t tell me anything, especially not now. He and Colt almost got into a fist fight yesterday.”

“What? When?”

“I was staking out the wake and Colt showed up and then my dad did.” She tipped her head back with a groan. “It was a mess.”

“Does he think Colt did it?”

“I think so?”

“Do you think Colt did it?”

“No. I don’t.” She opened her eyes to see him staring at her. “What?”

“He would be my prime suspect. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time he tried to kill Shaw.”

“Logan.” She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She considered her options and realized that there was no nice way to say this. “Logan, you would be my prime suspect.”

“Wait, you think I did it?”

“No, no no no, Logan, that’s not what I meant.” She studied him, carefully. “But you would be the most obvious suspect. I have the phone records and, if I have them, you know the cops do too.”

“Ellie, I’m telling you, I didn’t do it.” He pivoted to face her, eyes earnest.

“I know. Aren’t you relieved he’s dead, though?”

“Hell, Ellie, of course I am. He fucking threatened me. He said he would come after me, said he still had friends in the force.”

“I know-”

“He just kept calling me and threatening me about his trial, about wanting to know where Mona was, wanting to talk to her before they both went to court.” He ran his hands threw his hair, tugging roughly on the strands; Ellie felt her heart break. “I didn’t know how to stop him but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t do kill him.”

“Logan-”

“Ellie, you know I couldn’t give up Mona. You know I wouldn’t. He wanted to kill her! And then he was gonna kill me and then he wouldn’t stop...”

The kids had moved on from tag, apparently done chasing each other around, now climbing a tree, daring each other to go higher and higher. She wondered how high they would go before one fell, before a bad decision and gravity caused them to plummet to the earth.

“I didn’t do it, Ellie, I swear.”

“I know. I know.” Could she possibly keep them all from falling? As she watched the kids climb higher and higher, laughing as they went, she didn’t know who would climb and who would fall.

~~~~~

“My dad tried to apologize.”

Colt scoffed, disdain dripping from the phone line. “Great. I guess my apology will come in the mail any day now.”

Ellie rubbed her temple and settled in deeper into her couch. “You didn’t exactly keep your cool either.”

“He dragged you out of the car. You can’t expect me to sit there for that shit.”

"Not the best ‘meet the parents’ situation.”

“C’mon, El. You know it wasn’t gonna go well regardless.” She could hear his footsteps, heavy on the concrete floor of the shop. “How’s his investigation going?”

“No idea.” The television was showing some procedural; men in black suits flashed across the screen. “He said today was the day.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said the ME would be able to make a determination on cause of death today.” The television was not captivating her attention; she didn’t want to know who went free and who was jailed on a fake crime on some fake Hollywood set. 

Colt hummed. “Does he know who did it?”

“I don’t know.” She wanted to know who went free and who went to jail in her own life. 

“Do you?”

“It could be anyone. Everyone.” Her thumbnail was almost completely gone, stress and worry and nerves all multiplying in her head and over her body.

Colt hummed again.

“I saw Logan.”

“Huh.” She could hear Colt’s eyes rolling over the phone. “How was that?”

“Fine. Works at a shop outside Manhattan Beach.”

“High class. What a tool.” His disdain was evident. “Do you think he did it?”

“I don’t know.” She heard a car turn down the street, closer, and turned her head, as slowly as possible. There were lights in her driveway. Her heart leapt; her dad was home. “He’s the one who talked to Shaw, I mean.”

“What did he say about that?”

“Not much.” Her dad turned off the engine and the hair on Ellie’s arms stood straight up. She turned, as unobtrusively as she could, to see out the window. “Said Shaw threatened him.”

“Wait, Ellie, Shaw threatened Logan? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.” Her focus was solely on her dad, closing his car door, thick manila envelope in his hand. “He told me, called a week ago, before break. I knew that,” she answered idly.

“Wait, what?” His tone was sharp but it wasn’t enough to break through, as distracted as she was. “You knew?” She had to know what was in that folder.

“Colt, I have to go.” She could hear the key in the lock. Crap.

“Wait, hold on-”

“My dad’s home, I have to go. Sorry.” She ended the call and threw the phone on the couch, pivoting to face the TV, ears intent on the footsteps behind her. 

“Hi, Dad.”

He stopped and looked at her, hard. She forced herself to take a shallow breath. She was gonna throw up, every nerve in her body doing battle in her stomach. After an eternity, he nodded and headed upstairs to the study, folder held tight by his side.

Her exhale was shaky and she turned to look out the window at his cruiser, dark and forbidding in the dark of her driveway. Was no news good news?

She waited and waited but he didn’t come downstairs again. Finally, with her stomach churning, she went to bed and fell into a restless sleep, nightmares returning in full force. She could see Jason behind the wheel of his car, chasing and chasing her, gaining as she frantically pushed on the gas, red and blue lights filling the night sky around them. When she woke up, the tears had streamed down her cheeks, damp pillowcase a visual reminder of her fears.

[edsbrak]

let the light in

pairing: Steddie word count: 3k summary:  Eddie wants to have his first kiss. Stan unexpectedly volunteers.

Read on Ao3 here!

(a short n sweet little steddie drabble bc I love them and I couldn’t stop thinking about this prompt for weeks! I hope you guys like it! enjoy! xx)

Being in the Kaspbrak household always keeps Stan on edge – mainly because of the woman downstairs he and their group of friends all call ‘The Terminator’. Not in front of Eddie though, of course. Stan knows that even with how crazy she is, Eddie would still take offence to it, his small stature figuratively growing in what Stan believes is just Eddie defending himself instead, not her.

It’s only himself here at the moment, perched precariously on Eddie’s desk chair as said owner of the chair sits comfortably on his bedsheets, legs crossed as he nibbles absentmindedly at the end of his pencil. Stan wants so badly to rip it out of there, watching as the thin layer of mental bends with each bite of Eddie’s teeth.

Eddie had asked him earlier that morning at school if Stan could come over and help him with an assignment. He’d agreed, knowing Eddie must really be struggling if he was asking just Stan.

They’d ditched the other Losers and watched as they made their way over to the Aladdin as he and Eddie turned the other way. These days Mrs. K only ever let Eddie have friends over if it was for study purposes, and they’d both shown their math textbooks as proof when they’d walked through the front door not an hour ago.

“How are you going with question five?” he asks after a few minutes of silence have passed. Stan himself finished up 10 minutes ago, but Eddie hasn’t written anything down in that time, which Stan guesses means he’s struggling again.

“Fine,” Eddie lies.

Eddie knows how Stan feels about lying, so he must really be determined to work this out by himself. But it would only defeat the purpose of inviting Stan over to help him in the first place, so slowly Stan gets up to walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge.

“Really?”

Eddie huffs quickly before shifting his book up further to his face. Stan sighs gently and reaches out to lower it.

“Where are you stuck?” he asks.

Eddie’s mouth twists, and that’s one thing about Eddie that is like Mrs. K: they’re both stubborn in nature.

“Here, let me show you…” Stan says tentatively, trying not to sound pitying, knowing Eddie hates it whenever anyone treats him incapable of doing things.

He begins going over the numbers, being cautious not to talk too fast. The Losers were all in junior year at the moment, and both he and Eddie were taking advanced mathematics. Eddie because Mrs. K had it out for the other maths teacher at school and demanded he be transferred, and Stan because his parents discovered how well he could calculate when he was 10 and in his dad’s study counting up the bills.

When he’s done, Eddie mumbles out a small ‘thank you’ before he tries his hand at it. Stan watches on, shifting sideways on the bed so his back isn’t twisting uncomfortably anymore. Eddie’s nose scrunches up as he works, the end of his tongue peeking out occasionally as he writes down each equation. It’s endearing enough that Stan becomes distracted and misses the moment Eddie finishes writing the answer and he’s looking at Stan with a proud smile, eyes deep and wide.

Stan clears his throat before reading over Eddie’s reasoning, finding that it all checks out.

“Nice job,” Stan smiles back. “Pretty soon you’ll be making linear inequalities your bitch.”

Eddie fake gasps. “He swore.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m funny either, or else I’ll have to kill you,” Stan whispers dangerously, and it only puts Eddie in a state of giggles. Stan finds he enjoys it very much.

They work on finishing up the next 4 questions together, each one longer than the last, their shoulders touching as they lean up against the wall. Eddie thinks if he can get them done quickly they can still meet up with the other Losers and maybe head down to the quarry and soak up the remaining hours of daylight. In a perfect world it might be possible, but Stan isn’t sure about Mrs. K letting their little club interrupt her son’s precious dinnertime.

By question 8 Stan gets up to use the toilet, going through the process of washing his hands three times before closing the door behind him. As he’s walking back, Eddie appears stuck again, looking anywhere but his textbook as he chews on his bottom lip.

“Everything okay?”

Eddie’s eyes snap up to meet his, and he looks away just as quickly. Stan frowns, wondering what could have happened in the time he was in the bathroom.

“Nothing, ‘s fine,” Eddie mutters.

“Clearly,” Stan challenges.

Neither say anything else for a beat, until Eddie’s shoulders unclench and he releases a deep sigh. He looks slightly uncomfortable and Stan can’t help but be a little on edge about it.

Finally, Eddie says, “Have you had your first kiss yet?”

Stan blinks, not expecting that to be the cause of Eddie’s stress. “What?”

“I feel like I’m the last one in the group to have a first kiss,” Eddie continues as if Stan hadn’t said anything. He’s twisting his pencil around, obviously nervous. “We know Bev, Bill and Richie have all kissed someone, right?”

Stan sighs softly. He sits down again where he’d been before, thinking over his next words carefully. “Well, I can’t say for sure about everyone. But…” he stops to swallow. “No, I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

Eddie doesn’t react with surprise like Stan had thought he might. He’s still biting his lip as he looks at something across the room, as if deep in thought. Stan is about ready to move on with this conversation and return Eddie’s focus to his homework, but Eddie isn’t finished with it yet, apparently.

“Stan, I…” he starts, gaze darting every which way before he shakes his head. “Um, never mind.”

There’s a feeling deep in Stan’s gut, an inkling to what might have been on the tip of Eddie’s tongue. It sends a shiver up his spine; unexpected, but not unwelcome. Mind working a mile a minute, he goes through all the ways in which this could be damaging territory; instincts yelling at him to let it go. But there is a small part of him, hidden deeper; a part he isn’t sure he was even aware of until right now, as if Eddie had unlocked it with his perfectly innocent question.

Breathing through his nose, Stan exhales with a tremble before uttering, “We can try it.”

Stan’s suspicions are confirmed when Eddie’s expression morphs into surprise.

“We can kiss.” Stan isn’t sure why he repeats his statement. To assure Eddie or himself, he doesn’t know. “That’s… would you like to?”

Almost in slow motion, Eddie nods in answer. His eyes are still blown wide, like he’s waiting for Stan to yell ‘Ha! As if I’d kiss you, weirdo!’ To show he’s serious, Stan removes the textbooks in Eddie’s lap and places them carefully off to the side out of harm’s way. Eddie is still frozen, and Stan stops to ask, “Eddie?”

Instantly he’s snapping out of it, but still looking unsure. “Right. Yep. Okay.”

“We don’t have to,” Stan offers gently.

Eddie is shaking his head again before Stan even finished. “No, I want to.” And he sounds genuine this time, eyes set as he glances down to Stan’s lips occasionally. “I trust you.”

Stan feels another thrill, trying to keep it under wraps because it seems like he’ll be taking the reins on this one, despite the both of them being unfamiliar in this area. The most Stan has ever seen of kissing is from his parents and the various movies they all watch together. Eddie on the other hand, Stan thinks, is less aware, only having Richie’s less than tact descriptions about him and some girl going at it behind the school’s sports shed.

“Okay, well…” Stan stops to think again. “Let’s get comfortable first, right?”

“R-right,” Eddie answers, but when he makes no move Stan takes initiative and scoots back to the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. Eddie follows, his hand brushing against Stan’s as he goes. “Now what?”

“I guess we just… kiss?” At Eddie’s small noise that directly translates to ‘And?’, Stan clears his throat. “Alright. Well, when kissing, you close your eyes just before your lips touch.”

“Right,” Eddie nods, licking his lips almost subconsciously.

“And it’s best of your lips aren’t too wet, either,” Stan adds, hating when his aunts greet him at family gatherings with a spit-slick kiss on his cheek. Immediately Eddie is wiping at his lips with the back of his hand and Stan inwardly smiles. “Okay, we’ll start with a small kiss first; closed mouth.”

Eddie releases a slow breath, hands fisted into the sheets by his sides. Stan keeps one hand in his lap and the other on the bed next to Eddie to maintain some balance. Tentatively, he leans in, eyelids dropping halfway as he watches Eddie copy his movements. There’s no denying how badly Stan’s body is shaking right now, not wanting to screw this up as he puts on a front of faux confidence.

When their noses brush his skin tingles, and this close up, Stan can see Eddie’s freckles ever clearer than usual. Before he can chicken out, Stan closes the remaining gap and blindly finds Eddie’s lips in a soft kiss.

It lasts maybe 3 seconds, but for Stan, at least, it felt like a lifetime. A good one at that.

Simple, quick, foolproof.

They both draw back, and Eddie still has his eyes closed when Stan opens his.

“Was that okay?”

Eddie’s eventually flutter open, and Stan notices his cheeks are slightly flushed, eyes practically sparkling. “Yes.”

That one simple word is enough to have Stan boasting on the inside, completely chuffed he was able to give Eddie a nice first kiss after all. Feeling accomplished, he pulls back further to give Eddie his space, only Eddie doesn’t look relieved that it’s over, more like he’s shocked that Stan is moving away at all.

“Wait,” he says, his hand landing on Stan’s forearm quickly.

Stan gives him a curious look, trying not to linger on the heat emitting from Eddie’s skin. “What is it?” Perhaps he read the signs wrong and Eddie actually isn’t satisfied with that being his first kiss experience.

“Do you think…” Eddie’s hand grips tighter, almost fidgeting. “Can we… do it again?”

“You… want to do it again?” Stan repeats, more so making sure for his own sake.

“I mean, we don’t have to—” Eddie murmurs, withdrawing.

“No!” Stan interjects, lowering his voice when Eddie jumps slightly. “I mean – yes, I – I would like to.”

Eddie almost appears to sag in relief, energy giddy if Stan had to describe it somehow. They resume their previous positions, this time slightly closer than before.

“I know people begin to move their lips when they get more confident, right?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Stan says. Despite having just kissed each other, the thought of kissing Eddie again suddenly has Stan even more nervous than before. “Keep it slow and steady. Remember to breathe through your nose while you do it.”

“Okay.”

Stan’s pulse quickens when Eddie grabs onto his arm again, shifting in as close as they can possibly be while sitting side by side. They begin to lean in, eyes slipping shut when their lips are close enough, and it’s just as electric as before when they press together.

Stan tilts his head marginally, his free hand twitching with a need to grasp something. And then Eddie opens his mouth slightly and Stan follows suit, lips parting as his bottom lip slips in between Eddie’s own naturally. He can feel Eddie’s breath hitch, obviously forgetting to breath with his nose, but Stan can’t bring it in himself to stop and remind him, so incredibly overcome with glee as he slowly becomes lightheaded from the feeling of… everything.

He can hear the small wet sound when their lips separate, slow and intimate, and without realising what he’s doing, Stan reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek to angle Eddie to his other side. Stan reconnects their mouths again, working in tandem as he guides Eddie through the motions of it. Stan can’t believe they’ve managed to get this far, and from the sounds of it, Eddie is pleased with the results.

Eddie makes another small noise, a happy one, Stan’s sure, and Eddie’s other hand moves up so he’s gripping both of Stan’s arms tightly, like he’s scared he might fall.

Only when an unexpected touch appears in the form of the tip of Eddie’s tongue does Stan draw back, slightly startled as he looks at Eddie questioningly. Eddie seems embarrassed until he starts to panic at Stan’s expression.

“Sorry, I’m—” he says through short puffs. “I didn’t know if – I – I thought that was the next step. At least, that’s what Bill and Richie say—”

At the mention of their friends names, Stan can’t help but fixate on it. The entire Losers club, sans Bill, are all aware of Eddie’s childhood crush on their unofficial group leader. Stan’s never stopped to ask Eddie if he still likes Bill, and now he’s wondering why that’s even something to worry about at all. But the thought of Eddie kissing someone else after this, of maybe just using Stan as a means to show Bill that he’s more mature and grown up now doesn’t sit right with Stan.

Mind clouded with Eddie and Eddie only, Stan shocks himself and reacts purely on impulse as he dives back in to claim Eddie’s lips. He ends up hitting the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and there’s a small struggle as they rearrange for a better fit, lips moving more urgently than they need to be as a wave of need and want washes over Stan unexpectantly.

Eddie releases his grips on Stan’s arms to grab the collar of his shirt instead, pulling him in impossibly closer as Stan cups both sides of Eddie’s face.

Lips detach and reattach, sharing breaths and teeth accidently bumping together. Feeling bold, Stan tries what Eddie had done and pokes his tongue out, slowly grazing over what he thinks is Eddie’s top lip. Eddie produces a noise that makes Stan’s blood pulse, buzzing all around him. Finally their tongues both touch, not delving deep but sliding together occasionally as Eddie’s hands roam up closer to Stan’s hair.

Stan doesn’t know how it got to this point and isn’t sure he cares. “Eddie,” he manages to whisper between their mouths, and Eddie takes this as a sign to draw his feet off the floor and twist, desperate to keep their lips connected as he moves.

Stan isn’t sure where he’s going until Eddie is trying to get one leg over Stan’s to land in the middle. Instinctively Stan allows it, nerves overwhelmed as Eddie towers over him and sucks all of the air out of his lungs, fingers pin-points of warmth along his skin.

It’s nothing like Stan thought it would be and everything he’s glad it is.

Just when Stan’s sure his heart is about to jackhammer right out of his chest, a shrill cry booms from downstairs.

“Eddie! Dinner!”

They practically jump apart as if they’ve been burned, Eddie stumbling back on the carpet as Stan stays locked on the bed. They’re both panting hard, faces flushed and lips shiny with spit. When Eddie makes no effort to answer his mother, she predictably calls up again.

“Eddie-bear!”

Eddie visibly swallows. Stan is thankful Mrs. K never wants to trek the short walk up the stairs, otherwise she might have caught them in the act, and there is no way that could ever end well.

“Coming, ma!” Eddie manages to get out.

As if his ass is suddenly on fire, Stan shoots up from the bed and begins to pack up his things at the same time he tries to calm his body down.

“I’ll, um…” he begins, zipping his bag all the way over and hiking it over his shoulders. “I should go.”

“Right,” Eddie says, voice small.

Neither make a move for a few seconds, just staring at each other like their brains were just now finally catching up on everything that just transpired. It honestly felt like a fever dream, like stepping out of the twilight zone and back into reality after years without it. Stan can’t believe his first ever kiss was with Eddie of all people, and even more surprising he can’t think of one single fault in that knowledge now. It just feels right.

Clutching his backpack straps, Stan nods and begins the walk downstairs with Eddie in tow. Mrs. K is in the lounge room, dinner set up on the small table next to her, and she looks over at the two boys when they pass.

“Did you get your homework done, Eddie?” she asks.

“Yes, mommy,” Eddie mumbles.

“Good boy.”

There’s a lot Stan wishes he could say but knows he can’t. Instead, he says his goodbyes to Eddie before reaching for the doorknob, heart still beating fast even when he steps outside into the fresh air. He takes a moment to compose himself, straightening out his collar and hair as he sucks in several deep breaths.

As he starts to walk away, the shocking revelation in the pit of his stomach only seems to grow, desperate to find out exactly what was going to happen now that he and Eddie shared a moment together that Stan would argue was anything but a friendly lesson of kiss-and-tell. And before he can fester anymore on it, he hears the familiar creek of the front door opening and small, fast steps running after him.

“Stan!”

Stan turns around, about to ask Eddie what could be wrong, but his words are silenced when Eddie leans up to kiss him swiftly.

“Oh,” Stan says when it’s over, unable to think of anything else.

Eddie is already stepping away, expression shocked like he’s surprised by his actions, and he leaves Stan with these parting words: “See you tomorrow in class?”

Stan simply nods, watching as Eddie disappears back up into his house.

Maybe it’s not the exact answer his fast-working mind wants right now, but in his heart, he knows it’s the best one he could have gotten.

Stan smiles all the way home.

[purplesurveys]

382

-What was the last song that you sang out loud? I played a Destiny’s Child playlist when we were out for a bit earlier so I was most likely rapping along to Bug A Boo before we got home. -If someone has bad breath, do you tell him or her? I don’t think I can. I’d rather just not have my face directly on them when talking. -With which friend are you most likely to share a secret? Angela. She knows e v e r y t h i n g. -Do you have an item that comforts you when you are sad/scared? My...phone? Haha. If I get anxious I need to watch videos to distract me. My phone has YouTube. Also bracelets that Gabie has given me over the years. -When are you likely to hide your emotions? When I’m with people that don’t really know about my anxiety. People I’m not close to, in general.

-Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I think both are equally terrifying??? Both put the body in immense pain and it goes through a slow, agonizing shutdown and I don’t even want to think about experiencing other lol. -Who was the last person to take your breath away? MY GIRLFRIEND -When you turn on the TV, what channel do you flip to? Probably a movie channel but I legit have not watched television in yearssss. I watch everything on Netflix now. -Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? No. -What was the last comment someone made on your music taste? I don’t have much of a music taste so it’s not really something people tend to make comments on. -Where do you go/what do you do when you need to calm down? My room. Or to my best friends. -What was the last mess you cleaned up? I had a stack of readings and stationery scattered all over the dining table last night when I was studying, so I cleaned everything up before going to bed. -Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? Yes I had to talk to Toby because he made a series of disturbing tweets a couple of weeks ago. We aren’t close per se, but he’s an orgmate and therefore a friend, so I messaged him immediately. I’m happy it worked, cos he showed up to school the next day and gave me a bear hug. -When you think of tomorrow, what feelings come to mind? Work. -Who, in your opinion, has an amazing voice? Hannah sings a lot, and I really like it when she does because she sounds great. -Would you ever camp out on a beach, under the stars? Of course.

-What is the last thing you complained about? I need a printer to print out my readings (I absolutely cannot study from an e-book) but ours has been broken for years and there’s no Internet/printing shop nearby. UGH I’m serious about complaining over not being able to study haha.   -What was the last curse-word you said? Fuck. -When you fake sick to get out of school, what do you say or do to convince your parents that you are sick? I would never fake sick to my Asian mom.  -How did you recover from your last bout of tears? I slept. As is always the most effective way to stop crying. -Do you still talk to your very first best friend? Yes. I talked to her last night. -When was the last time something went terribly wrong? Well a couple of weeks ago Gab and I had a huge, really serious fight that had just been unfixable–it was the kind of fight that you just had to wait. And the wait was torture. I was really scared then and I stayed in bed for what was probably 48 hours and ate like two times in that period. -How do you console someone when he or she is upset? I stay with them and listen to them if they have to let things out. -Have you ever seen either one of your parents cry? Just my mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw my dad cry. -Choose one: Trip to outerspace, or trip underneath the oceans? OUTER SPACE. I’d do anything to have a glimpse into my astronaut dream. -How often do you feel overwhelmed? 7 days a week. -How do you deal with everyday life? Get by. Aren’t we all forced to? -Do you have any secret obsessions or guilty pleasures? I don’t think so. I’m never guilty of whatever it is I’m obsessing at the moment haha. I am into serial killers, like reading and watching docus about them; and obviously I never announce it the world unless it comes up in conversation. -Aside from on this survey, what was the last thing you wrote about? I was writing down notes on my readings from my Southeast Asian history class. -Who in your family do you act like the most? I’m a mix of my mom and dad. I seriously can’t tell you who I act more like. There are certain phrases my mom says that I say, and certain intonations and mannerisms I got from my dad.  -What is the most romantically sweet thing someone has done for you? I’m into intimate, more between-the-two-of-you kind of stuff, so I always appreciate it when Gab volunteers to drive my car if I ever drink a little bit too much for the night. She helps me get to bed and gets me some clothes to wear too, which is always sweet.

-When you go out to the mall, do people stare? Not me, but my girlfriend and I obviously will get stares from time to time for holding hands. -Have you ever been confronted by a mall cop for your behavior? No. -What just tears at your heartstrings? Videos of dogs reuniting with their owners, abused dogs getting saved and all groomed up, or dogs getting adopted. -Is there a show you swear that you will never watch? GAME OF THRONES -What was the last topic that you ranted about? The lack of a printer that I delved on several survey questions ago. -Is there someone that makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells? Jane lol. She’s the president of our org and will easily get pissed the fuck off sometimes, and it never does my anxiety any good. -Were you ever afraid of one of your past teachers? Yes. We had this monster of a PE teacher in 2nd grade who would literally kick down doors if she gets angry and would yell at 8 year olds. How she ever got employed in the first place still baffles me. -Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? That’s a huuuuuge no-no in our school, so no. Plus I came from an all-girls’ Catholic school; it just wasn’t in anyone’s nature to pick a fight. -Have you written anything in a bathroom stall? What, if anything? No, I feel so iffy about vandalizing in public. -Is your school like the drama capital of the country? HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You can say that, damn. -A homeless man asks you for 50 cents; how do you respond? I give them a little more and a snack if I had any. -When was the last time you visited a thrift store? I don’t remember. I don’t think I have? -Was there ever a time when you wished you'd never been born? Always. I didn’t even choose to be born lol. -Can you handle constructive criticism? Uhhhhhh only if it’s from someone I truly respect. Otherwise I can honestly be a big baby about criticism. -Who is the most sensitive person that you know? ME. Also one of my friends, Mils. -Have you ever had a tooth (or teeth) pulled? Nope. -You can have one famous person's wardrobe; who do you choose, and why? Kate’s!!! She dresses so well and looks pretty in all of her outfits. -When was the last time you wrote someone a note? I think December? Aya was down in the dumps pretty bad so I dropped her a short message on Facebook to let her know that I’m always around for her. -Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I ask permission. Duh. I’m Asian.  -What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? Agatha’s birthday party. She’s a good friend, but I’m not friends with any of her friends and I just can’t relate with the college block we both belong to. I scheduled a date with Gabie’s dad on the same night because I didn’t want to go to the party. -On average, how many surveys do you fill out in one day? If I had a lot of time, I could fill out three. Nowadays it’s like once a day/a couple of times a week. -How many hours a day do you spend on Bzoink? I don’t stay on Bzoink; I just go on there to look for surveys. -Which season do you dread the most? I hate Philippine summers. -Do you ever brag about your achievements? Oh god never. I hate putting any attention on me. -If someone makes fun of you, are you able to laugh it off? Tbh no, I’m pretty sensitive and serious in that aspect. I mean I’d smile to be polite but will most likely be whispering something evil about them in my head hahahaha. -When was the last time that you watched the sun come up? Three years ago, in Sagada. -What did you do last Halloween? I think I went out with Gab that day, but it wasn’t to celebrate Halloween. -Last Thanksgiving? -Last Christmas - if you celebrate? I like how Christmas has the *if you celebrate* disclaimer but the North American-centric Thanksgiving doesn’t. Anyway, we had several family dinners and we ate and drank and caught up with one another. -How did you celebrate the arrival of the new year? Also saw some relatives and ate and drank and bonded with my cousins. -Is there a foreign culture you'd like to learn more about? I’d like to know more about all of them if I had the time and the chance. -Have you ever (purposely or accidentally) played with someone's heart? I possibly might’ve with Mike but I don’t want to be an ass and assume. -Has anyone ever played with yours? Sure, you can say that. -Have you ever seen a famous painting and thought "I could have done that?” Not famous, but expensive ones. The ones that are paint splatters hah. -Fire drills: Did you ever wish they were real ... just once? LOL YES. I’m terrible for thinking that but yes. Mostly because everyone was such kids about it and never took the drills seriously. I secretly wanted a real one to happen just to see those people regret not being any more serious.

-What is the scariest thing about attending your school? Nothing’s scary about UP. If you’re scared to be in UP you can’t survive in it. -Are you a good judge of other people's intentions? Meh. I can tell sometimes. What was the last thing that you felt strongly about? I’m not so sure, it’s been a while. -Shopping: best with friends, parents, bf/gf, or alone? Girlfriend. -What is one insecurity you have about your body? Teeth. -What is one part of your body that you are proud of? My overall figure. -When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? Ages ago. I’m getting old myself and don’t want my music too loud lmfao. -When you don't know how to spell a word, do you look it up? Yes, of course. -Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? Nope. I hate making people wait. -Have you seen the movie Super Size Me? No. -Do you still eat at McDonald's, regardless of that film? I’d probably continue eating at any fast food establishment even if I watch a billion documentaries exposing them, being completely honest. -Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a different race? Sometimes. -Do you ever consider the challenges other races go through? Of course. Except for one snowflake race out there, lol. -When was the last time you doubted your abilities? Now? -At your favorite restaurant, what do you order? I don’t pick favorite restaurants. -What was the last thing you wished for? A DAMN PRINTER. -How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? Too many. I’m perpetually impatient.

[ellanainthetardis]

Enter the in-laws...

[ff] or [ao3]

Chapter 47 : The Dragon’s Lair

“Remind me why I have to go with you again?” Haymitch winced as Effie lined the pink convertible car up the curb. The moment she turned off the ignition he stopped clinging to his seat.

He had never known she could drive before because the Capitol always provided cars and Avox drivers for them during the Games and the Tour. Those privileges had ended when they had left the penthouse though and, unless it was for an official matter when a car would be sent to collect them, they were left either ordering a private car with driver from an obscure company or driving the – very – pink convertible Effie kept secreted away in the underground garage of her apartment building.

He wasn’t exactly a fan of her driving style. She clearly liked speed and abrupt jerking of the car into a line or another.

“Because…” she snapped – for the third time that evening – pulling down the sun visor to check her reflection in the small rectangular mirror. “I cannot avoid Mother anymore and she has expressly ordered me to bring you with me.” She popped the visor back into place and flashed him a confident smile that seemed very fake to him. “You are the Capitol’s darling right now, it should grant you some leeway. Just… Don’t bite when she baits.”

She climbed out of the car before he could object one more time that he really didn’t want to do this. Being officially introduced to her family during a dinner that seemed so formal he had been forced to wear an expensive suit and a tie wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. And with the Tour just around the corner, he really didn’t need any more hardship.

He supposed her parents had a point in wanting to meet him though. Things were different in the Capitol but if they had been in Twelve… It was only natural to want to know the man who was living with their daughter.

Even if it would mean a whole evening of torture – Effie had warned him not to expect any less.

With a sigh, he got out of the car, not forgetting the bottle of wine he had been tasked with carrying, and inspected the huge house while she locked the convertible and made the keychain disappear in her small clutch. It looked… very neat. White walls, gleaming black door with a golden number on top and a door-knocker shaped like a roaring lion.

Effie’s hand slipped into his and squeezed.

“I am sorry for dragging you into this.” she offered. “They won’t be pleased once they understand we are serious about… Well…”

“Being together for better or for worse?” he snorted, brushing his thumb against the iris shaped ring. It was half hidden by a monstrous pear shaped diamond. On purpose, he figured.

She looked a little nervous and it didn’t help making him feel at ease. He knew her family wasn’t exactly all warm and fuzzy but he didn’t like the spark of panic he could see dancing in her eyes. This was something she would really have avoided if given a choice.

“Come on.” he smirked, nudging her shoulder with his and steering her up the small alley that led to the porch stairs. “We faced worse sponsors, yeah?”

“I am not sure, truth be told.” she whispered, clutching her small purse so hard her knuckles went white. “You must understand… I am not in any habit of bringing my boyfriends home. I only did that a couple of times.”

“That bad?” he asked, distracted by how imposing the house was once you stood directly in front of the door. Not that he was impressed but it was clearly meant to make the visitors feel crushed by its greatness. Capitols and their need to establish their position…  

“The ones who didn’t fall in love with Lyssa usually ended up agreeing with my mother just to please her.” she gritted through her teeth. “And my mother loves nothing more than criticizing me.”

He shot her a disbelieving glance, unhappy to notice she seemed to be shrinking on herself. “Yeah, well… At least with me you know you’re safe from that, sweetheart.”

Her smile was small but amused. She lifted her hand to knock and then let it fall, biting down on her bottom lip. “How do I look?”

He gave her a lazy once-over. She had a red dress on, a short little number made out of crisscrossing broad bands of fabric that formed thicker patches in the right areas and showed off some triangles of skin here and there at her waist, shoulders and back. She knew he liked it on her even if he had never really admitted as much aloud. The heels were impossibly high shiny red  things that made her legs look even longer. The wig was a dark blue, almost black, bob trimmed with gemstones - it was also a favorite of his because unlike her colorful numbers this one could have actually looked natural. And the make-up was just over the top as usual, her skin had golden hues, the thick fake eyelashes adorned with smaller gemstones looked heavy and the navy blue lipstick was too dark for his liking. And, of course, there was the open voluminous fur coat he would never run out of jokes about.

“Ugly as ever.” he mocked.

Instead of whacking his shoulder and narrowing her eyes at him though, she looked worried and immediately started fumbling with his tie as if it needed urgent straightening.

“Do not joke about this tonight.” she begged. “I need to know if something is wrong with my appearance before I enter the dragon’s lair because…”

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” he frowned, gently wrapping his hand around hers and nudging them away from his tie. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“I will consider it fine if there are no murders.” she muttered. “Whatever you do, do try not to antagonize my father before I  have secured the country house.”

Before he could answer that, she used the door-knocker. The door opened so quickly he was sure the man had been standing right there the whole time, ready to make them look like fools who had dawdled in front of the house for no good reason.

The butler – he assumed he was a butler – respectfully bowed at them with a quiet “Good evening, Miss; Good evening, Sir.” that immediately made Haymitch uncomfortable. Avoxes, he knew how to deal with by now, but members of staff… He always felt awkward around them, not sure how to act.

“Thank you, Jenkins.” Effie answered, handing the man her coat as if it was completely natural. Haymitch followed her lead after a small hesitation.

“Euphemia!” a woman exclaimed with obvious theatrics, appearing in the hallway with enough flair that she must have rehearsed her entrance. “At last! I am very crossed with you. One would think you were cutting off your own mother.”

Elindra Trinket looked every bit the stereotypical Capitol he had expected her to be. Puffy turquoise blue hairdo, outrageous make-up, a face and a body so pumped with plastic it was difficult to say what she had originally looked like and an outfit that would have been more appropriate on someone ten years younger.

“What in Panem are you wearing?” the woman hissed, swooping on them only to walk in a wild circle around Effie, apparently horrified by her outfit. “I did say it would be a family dinner but, still, I expected you to make an effort. Lyssa is wearing the most darling evening gown. Do ask her for her stylist’s address.”

“Don’t blame her. I chose her dress.” he cut in with clenched teeth, angry at the way Effie took everything on the chin without even trying to protest, as if she was not only expecting the dressing-down but also somehow thought she deserved it. “I happen to like it.”

Effie looked up at him with wide incredulous – and maybe slightly reproachful – eyes but he kept his attention on her mother. He knew how to recognize a threat and that woman was one. Not a physical danger, maybe, because he could have snapped her neck in record time but she was obviously a menace.

Blue eyes identical to Effie inspected him from head to toe in very much the same fashion he had studied the house. Displeasure and loathing flashed on her face but it was so quickly hidden behind a polite curious interested mask Haymitch could have almost believed he had dreamed it.

“There is no accounting for taste, I suppose.” the woman answered after a few seconds, in a controlled voice in which harshness clearly peaked. “I am delighted to meet you, Haymitch. You do not mind if I call you by your first name, do you? After all… You are a special friend of the family now.  It is such an honor to have you over for dinner… Why, the two-times Quarter Quell victor… My friends are quite jealous. I promised them I would organize some sort of get-together soon. I was confident you would not mind.”

“Really, Mother, that’s…” Effie hissed.

“Quiet, Euphemia.” the Capitol interrupted. “Mind your manners.”

Haymitch felt such a wave of fury that he found it wiser to simply hand over the bottle of wine he had selected and carried under Effie’s instructions – despite the fact it had been torture to choose it, but he had walked into the store and he had come back without having touched a drop, leaving the tasting to her, and there was some pride to find there.

“How very thoughtful!” the woman exclaimed, immediately passing the bottle to the butler who was lurking nearby, probably for this exact purpose. “Jenkins, see that this wine is served with the roast. Now, follow me to the living-room. We were having some amuse-bouches.”

He grabbed Effie’s hand and tugged her closer to his side as they walked behind her mother, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “Wouldn’t discount murder, after all.”

“If you try to defend me every time, you will spend the night arguing with her.” she warned. “It is easier to let it go.”

“No, it’s not.” he scowled, squeezing her fingers.

There were more people in the living-room than he had expected. Mrs Trinket graciously waved them in, placing a falsely affectionate hand on Haymitch’s shoulder as he passed. “You are already acquainted with Lyssandra and her husband Rufus Flavershym, I believe?”

“Yeah.” he answered, smiling at Lyssa and nodding a little less genuinely at the man with the slicked back black hair who he had crossed path with once or twice when the guy had been playing Gamemaker. Effie hated his guts and that was good enough for him. He turned to the other man who was currently sitting in a white armchair, his pale blue eyes watching him. “You must be Effie’s dad.”

He knew he was violating every rule of good society but he rejoiced in it. He had listened to Effie rant enough times to know he was supposed to wait after being introduced to call out to someone. It wasn’t because he pretended to be deaf to her lectures that he didn’t remember a few things.

Effie visibly tensed next to him.

“An astute observation.” the man chuckled without any amusement, gracefully standing up from his chair to outstretch a hand. “Tadius Trinket. You may call me Tadius if you wish.”

It wasn’t an open invitation to do so but Haymitch shook the hand and took great pleasure in repeating the man’s name as if he had known him forever. Those people were already irking him and he would delight in pressing their every button.

Lyssa cut through the obvious tension by embracing her sister with genuine warmth and then air kissing Haymitch’s cheeks as if they were long lost friends. Followed a few minutes of chaos when Effie greeted everyone properly only to latch on his hand again as soon as she was able to. He wasn’t sure how they ended up sitting on a couch or how he ended up being forced to eat disgusting slimy things he was quickly informed were snails with garlic.

“So refined.” he deadpanned.

It was unlucky Elindra mistook it for a compliment.

The conversation remained strictly limited to the weather, Lyssa and Rufus’ sons and the new art exhibit that would soon open. Haymitch didn’t speak unless spoken too, slightly taken aback by what appeared to be, for all intent and purposes, a well-rehearsed play in which everyone knew their lines and when best to deliver them. Effie remarked on how cold it was getting, Lyssa observed it had been colder the previous year, Rufus sighed with obvious regret and lamented that the Controlled Weather Center wasn’t better supervised, Elindra agreed with her son-in-law wholeheartedly and asked how his dear – and notably wealthy – parents were doing. At that point, Tadius redirected the conversation on his grandsons’ school success.

Everything seemed so cold and distant… Even the decoration looked that way. Classy – or what Capitols considered classy – but austere, lacking any warmth… The style was so clean and white he understood why Effie was so obsessed with putting colors everywhere. She was such a cheerful positive warm person it was chilling to realize she had been forced to grow up in that kind of environment.

The only real mishap happened when Haymitch refused a flute of champagne and Mrs Trinket seemed to take it as a personal affront. Despite his insistence that he didn’t need a drink, she persisted in having a maid fetch him some liquor-free cocktail, making such a great show of it not being a problem that it was obviously meant to make Haymitch feel like a nuisance.

Effie was embarrassed but he couldn’t quite tell on whose behalf.

It was almost amusing, the way they treated him. He was a victor – not just any victor either but the current one and a two-times Quell winner at that – and it conferred him a certain status they couldn’t just dismiss. He was famous after all and in fashion - two things they revered. However he was also from a District and very much not from their world and yet he was standing with their sister-in-law or daughter as if he was her equal and it clearly riled them up the wrong way. The only one who treated him fairly was Lyssa, something Effie seemed both grateful for and a bit suspicious of.

He was relieved when they were invited to pass into the dining-room but it was short-lived. It seemed they had exhausted all the safe topics and the conversation was now turning to the Games. Elindra and Tadius were presiding and he was sitting between Lyssa and her mother, facing Effie. Although given how wide the table was, she could have been sitting at the other end of the country. He couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t really discreetly talk to her…

They were on their own and he was sure the separation had been on purpose.

“When does the Tour start again?” Rufus asked Effie who didn’t look thrilled to be sitting next to him.

“In two weeks.” she answered evenly, cutting the tomatoes in her salad in small pieces.

“You must be impatient to go back home, Haymitch.” Tadius remarked casually. “You have been away for a long time. You will stay in Twelve at the end of the Tour, I assume?”

“That’s not really the idea, no.” he denied. “I’m coming back with Effie.”

The announcement was followed by a small displeased silence that Effie abruptly put an end to by clearing her throat. “The Tour promises to be grand, this year. Be sure not to miss it.”

Haymitch’s mood darkened even more with that comment. It had been made clear to them that the Tour wouldn’t be like the previous one but would go back to being what it usually was: propaganda. Riots and rebellions must have been subdued for good in the Districts because the schedules and instructions Effie had been given included sightseeing and greet and meet with other victors as well as speeches and the usual dinners with the mayors. He wasn’t looking forward to it. At all.

“You must be so happy to retire on two victories…” Lyssa replied, smiling at her sister. “I am really proud of you, Effie.”

Effie smiled back and Haymitch dared hope that this would be the end of that but as soon as the ballet of maids had taken away the empty plates and replaced them with others full of roast and – admittedly – delicious looking vegetables, Elindra attacked again. “I heard through the grapevine you had taken a job for Lavello Miclay, dear?”

Effie briefly met Haymitch’s eyes and there was a note of warning in there that told him he was supposed to stay out of the conversation. He focused on cutting his meat. He knew she had agreed to go on the catwalk as a guest model for some stylist the following spring… He didn’t quite care. She liked modeling, it made her happy and it wasn’t like it was any of his business.

He also knew what it was she really wanted to do next and he knew why Harwyn invited her to lunches and dinners so often – it was possible the stylist had mentioned it to him and requested he tried to out-stubborn her on the question – but Effie refused any discussion on the matter.

It wasn’t like she could hide her sketches from him. Not when it was something she liked to do on the quiet nights when they were watching TV or when he was reading a book… She had pads full of dresses, suits, outfits and the likes… He wasn’t certain how Harwyn had gotten his hands on them but he knew the man thought she could do something with them. Except she was determined to dismiss them as a mere hobby that didn’t deserve any attention.

“That’s true.” she confirmed. “Although it has not been officially announced yet.”

“Effie…” Elindra sighed with tangible frustration and a touch of disappointment. “You should know better, darling. You are thirty-five now… Who keeps modeling at thirty-five? They will turn you into a joke if you are not careful…”

“What’s her age got to do with anything?” Haymitch growled, irritated on her behalf. “She’s more gorgeous than any of those other chicks.”

Mrs Trinket recoiled a little, clearly not used to being addressed that way.

“Love makes you blind.” Rufus laughed but quickly backtracked when his wife glared at him. “No offence, Effie, you are lovely. But those models… Why, I am always impressed by how many beautiful girls there are in the city…”

“Might be ‘cause your city wouldn’t know beautiful if it knocked it on the head.” he spat.

“Haymitch, enough.” Effie snapped quietly.

He glared at her, not keen on being scolded like a child in public. “Easy, sweetheart.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him before turning her gaze to her mother. “Your concern is touching, Mother, but I know what I am doing. Thank you.”

“You intend to go back into modeling, then?” Tadius clarified with obvious disinterest, as if she had just expressed a wish to take up pottery classes.

“Do not be preposterous.” Elindra objected. “She cannot. She is too old. No… Now she is going to do the sensible thing and settle down with a nice husband.” The woman waved a dismissive hand toward Haymitch. “No offense, Haymitch, but this affair cannot last forever, you surely realize. It is all well and good for now but I am fairly sure you are both aware it will have to end sooner rather than later.”

Haymitch kept his features schooled into a blank sort of detachment.

He had expected an intervention of some kind but maybe not such an open one. It lacked subtlety. They must either be very scared of Effie being reckless enough to intend to make it permanent or very fed up with her ignoring them for so long.

“Mother.” Lyssa winced. “I really do not believe…”

“It is not for you to believe or not.” Elindra scolded. “We are all civilized reasonable people here, after all.”

“Are we?” he scoffed.

“For the most part.” the woman huffed, leaving no doubt as to whom the other part referred to.

“Actually…” Effie hummed, after neatly crossing her fork and her knife in her mostly empty plate. “I do intend to work in the fashion field once more.”

“Not as a stylist.” Elindra begged, her worries suddenly switching course. “You have had that folly in your head for years and I told you times and times again…”

“I lack talent. Yes. I understood you loud and clear.” Effie interrupted her. Haymitch’s hand clenched into a fist but he forced himself to relax, filing that away for later consideration. “Faun Harwyn is looking into someone to replace the current manager of his designer house. He is retired but he keeps a keen eye on his legacy, as you all know. He wants me to take the position.”

There was a long silence. Haymitch figured she had impressed them at last.

He wondered how more impressed they would be if they knew it wasn’t just the managing Harwyn wanted her to take over, but the designing department as well. He wanted her to become the main stylist, something she kept dismissing as a joke to everyone’s growing frustration.

“That is excellent news!” Tadius congratulated her after a few seconds. “Well done, Effie.”

“Thank you, Father.” she beamed and then took such an innocent tone Haymitch immediately became mistrustful. “Oh, this reminds me… I meant to ask you if you still owned the country house?”

“I never got around to sell it.” her father confirmed with a frown. “Although I cannot vouch for the state it is in. It would need repairs, I wager. Did you want to borrow it for a party?”

The Capitol said that in the bored resigned tone of a man used to such requests from his wife and daughters.

“I was actually hoping you would rent it to me. A change of scenery is in order, something quieter but within easy reach of the city for obvious reasons… I would like to move in after the Tour.” she announced cheerfully. And, as if the news hadn’t shocked the others enough, she added with a bright smile: “With Haymitch.”

Haymitch rubbed his mouth to hide his smirk but he couldn’t help his eyes from sparkling with mirth as he met her gaze over the table. You could have heard a pin drop.

“Of course.” Tadius replied in an even voice. “I will have it ready by then.”

“Tadius!” Elindra protested in a shrill squeal.

“Yes, dear, I do believe it is time to bring in the salmon.” the man nodded, gesturing at the staff to proceed to the next course, ignoring his wife.

Lyssa quickly launched a conversation about some movie she had just seen and when Elindra tried to voice her protests, Tadius firmly and politely made her understand it wasn’t welcomed. While Elindra fumed over her untouched plate, Haymitch and Effie exchanged triumphant but amused looks.

Dinner went on like this for the next two courses and dessert – at which point Haymitch was completely full – and he was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel that had been that evening when Tadius stood up and invited him and Rufus to follow him to his study for some digestives while the ladies retreated to the living-room for some tea and light conversation.

Haymitch honestly wondered in what century those people were living in.

Effie’s small wince told him to be wary of the earlier easy compliance of her father.

This reeked of a trap he had no choice but to willingly enter.

[littlesamsonthedragonewtblo-blog]

Study Session

((Based upon my friend’s pic, @caelusprime, though it’s loosely based off of it. Enjoy))

High School, many call it the “creation of your future careers” or “root of your careers.” Some find it ridiculous, but others find it a serious matter; colliding these two, there might be problems. Obviously. Most/Some schools are technically self-separated by known social groups like the jokes, tech-savvy geeks, hipsters/hippies, the drama geeks, & of course Goths.

You maybe asking, “who is the main thing on this story.” Well first of all, it’s not the social group. It’s one person, one male in this school. He goes by the name of Max.

Maxim or Max qualifies himself “not belonging to the spectrum” of his peers. The reason is unknown, but he’s a nice kid in general, then again he does have his mean nice. His peers call him weird at the most, but he prefers eccentric.

Max is a geek of History, he’s decent on anything involving Reading, Language Arts, & English Writing. Despite that, he has a problem with things like Science & Math; he finds those subjects not interesting enough for him & he tends to do poor on them.

His parents & teachers are worried about him, so every end of the school day he goes to tutoring in his school’s library. His tutor, named Ellody Nakajima, is indeed smart & very understanding upon Max’s troubles. She make sure that he gets the certain key points & all she cares about if he gets a good degree when he graduates.

But one problem: Max has a crush on Ellody.

Whenever Max is aroused, he usually tries his best to hide it & suppress it, but of course that’s bad for his health. Whenever he’s near her, he just started to think explicit thoughts about her. Though she is older than him, but he doesn’t care, he wants her. Only her.

Even though she’s married.

Max’s tutoring is settles at Ellody’s house, her home was nice & feels comfortable for him; of course, he feels more “comfortable” around her. When he got there, he see’s that only one car is left on the drive way. Indicating that her husband left. He knocks on the door, he waits till an answer, which was Ellody opening the door. She smiled, seeing him, she was wearing a her usual clothing of a black shirt & jean shorts. Her shirt was rather a bit tight that show off her cleavage.

She said, “Hi Max, ready for some tutoring.”

He nodded in response,”Mmhmm.”

“Awesome! Get inside.”

She stepped aside to let him in, he went inside & then she leads him to her office; Max placed his working stuff on the desk, Ellody sitting next him. They went to work.

After an hour of tutoring & Max having some “distractions” of work, things was about to wrap things up. When Ellody was talking to him about Geometric functions, he was “staring into space” or in this case: staring into her cleavage.

Ellody noticed that he wasn’t paying attention, she snapped her fingers around his face, “Hey, hey, pay attention please.”

He shook his face a bit, “S-s-sorry Mrs. Nakajima.”  

“Good, okay so getting back to this. So, the 3 triangles are scalene. All three have an X, we need to find the X on all three. Do you know how to find the X on all three.”

“Ohh..uhhmm..”He flustered a bit, stammered, trying to get an answer out of his mouth. Though, he did had some quick glances on her cleavage, he blushes. He looks down a bit, “M-m-mmaybe to see if they a-add to one 180?”

“Good, good & what are the rules to do find the actual number?”

He thinks for a bit, after a long minute, he said, “Is one of them the ‘Sin’ rule?”

“Yes, & the other one is called?”

“Uhhhmm...C-’cosin rule’?”

“Yes, good, now let’s solve.”

After the questions, Ellody helped him with the rest of Geometry work. Max gathered his finished work & was about to stand up, but Ellody grabbed his arm & looks at him. “Max, I...I know you have feelings for me & I know you’ve been looking at my cleavage for half of these sessions.”

Max blushed madly in embarrassment, he thought that his tutor thinks that he’s a pervert for doing those things.

“Is there something you want to tell me? Be honest.”

Max was blushing more, looking down again, he came out, “I-i-i loved you s-since I saw you for the first day. I didn’t mean too, but I just c-can’t help myself. I think you’re a beautiful lady...” he looks up at her, “P-please don’t tell my parents, I promise not to do it again.”

Ellody took his answer, she inhaled deeply. “Max...you’re cute & all, but I’m married & an adult. You’re 17 & I can’t do--”

She was cut off by Max grabbed her by the waist, pulls her towards & he gave her a big kiss on the lips. Her eyes widen by the sudden action. Max pulled back, looks at her. Realizing what he did, he gathered his stuff & left the room. But before he could, he was pulled back & Ellody returned the kiss by a slap on the face. After a second, she kissed him back, but hers was longer.

As the kissing came along, Ellody was grabbing his groin, giving it a soft squeeze to get him erected. He was grabbing her by her rear end, groping her plush, buttcheeks; making her moan.

Each other lead to the bed, Max was the first one to fell onto the bed. Ellody pulls herself away from the kiss, looking at his face. “Ready for it big boy?” she said in a seductive tone. He nods in response. Ellody sexually smirk, she lowers down, kneeling in front of him as he sits up; seeing her undoing his belt.

She unzips his pants, gets her hand in his boxers, gently stroking the base. “I can feel you got a nice girth, but I guess that’s usual for a teen.” she says, looking at him. Max stuttered, “Uh-uhh, yeah I guess, never r-really pay attention to that stuff.”

“Pfft, you did pay attention to my breasts rather than your work silly boy.” she giggled, he blushes more, face being red. She smiles, pulling his penis out. Looking impressed by the size & width, “Nice length & nice thickness, but let’s see you know how to use it.” she jerks him off as licking upward on the shaft to the tip. Licking circular on it.

Max softly placed a hand on her head as she toys around with his member, moaning softly, feeling heated from all the pleasure that his tutor is giving him. Ellody massage his balls as sucks his tip, which she then slides her head down further on it. She bobs her head along the shaft, making a deepthroat.

Though, Max was a virgin, & he was taking it real nice. Enjoying the pleasure with each second of it, “O-oh God...Where did you learn how to do this?” he asked, which Ellody pulls out & answered, “Well, my husband of course, but I did also had a bit of a phase back in College. Y’know, gloryhole & all that.”

“Whoa, never knew you were like that.”

“It’s a secret, but don’t tell my husband, he might flip.”

Max nodded in agreement. Still being hard, Ellody removes her glasses, & her shirt & her bra to expose her wondrous curves. Max’s reaction, “Wow, nice rack Mrs. Nakajima.”

She giggled, “Call me Ellody, silly” she slides her breasts to sandwich his cock, he moans a bit, “These are really soft..E-Ellody.”

“Why thank you, your member isn’t bad as well”, she smiles moving her breasts up & down on his cock. Max moans as she does, leaning back, enjoying the pleasure that an adult woman is giving him. Ellody’s suction was hard, but delicate. Her tongue was, in her mouth, licking all around his shaft to. She can feel his penis twitch & throb. Max was about to tell her, but she placed a finger on his mouth. She pulls out & looks at him, “Don’t think about it cumming yet.” she says in a seductive tone again, but this time it was like she was wanting it.

Max gulped, as he see’s her standing up, thus in a teasingly matter removing her shorts & her panties in front of him to excite him more. She smiles as getting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His cock is in between her well-rounded buttcheeks & her soft breasts up close to his chest. “Ready for it big boy?~”

Max nodded. Ellody lifted herself up & then slide his cock in her warm, wet vagina. Max hold her waist as he moans, Ellody moans as well as she slid down further. She pants as she rides him, moaning & panting in bliss. She then push him by his chest to the bed, “Enjoy the ride, but next time you’re taking lead.”

“O-okay.” he was still holding her waist even if he was laying down. He watched as his tutor rides him, seeing her breasts bounce makes him more arouse. He was having problems holding it in, but he didn’t want to disappoint his tutor.

Ellody moans & pants as she jumps up & down, making his cock rubbing her sweet spots in her vagina.

They were going at it for a few minutes, longer than five minutes though, more than 10. Max started to speak, “Ah shit, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Ellody pants, looking down at him, “It’s okay, just release it all. Do it together.”

“Okay Ellody.”

Max sits up, grabbing her waist & thrusts up faster. Ellody clings onto him, moaning more. “Ah! yes! fuck me good!”

He grunted, thrusting more & more. Then with one hard thrust, balls deep, he releases his sperm in her. Both let out a sigh in bliss, Max panted. Still holding each other.

“Good boy, Max. You’re a good boy.” she commented, Max smiled a bit.

After some time, they both cleansed, Max put on his clothes back on & Ellody just remained nude, since she wanted a shower. “Hey, ever thought of having sex in a shower.”

Max answered as he was buckling his belt, “I-I dreamt of it, but I can’t for now. I have to get home or my parents will get suspicious, I’ll just tell them that we did extra work. Okay?”

Ellody nodded, “Okay, I understand. But remember, we are not gonna do this every time okay? It has to be a ‘rewarding type’ thing. If you got good grades, we’ll do it, okay?”

Max nodded, “Okay, I understand...Though, do you usually do this type of thing with your husband?”

“We used to, but since he had cancer, the only thing to make him live is by getting an operation that involves him getting a sex change operation. Ever since then, we tried to do things to make it work; even sex, but it always never been the same. Though of course now it’s good, but sometimes I need a dick once in a awhile. Dildos are fine, but...I need the real thing.”

“Oh.” he looks down a bit, rubbing his shoulder, “Sorry to hear about your...wife, but I hope you two will manage to do it.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” she smiles, going up to him, kissing his cheek. He smiles lightly, blushing. “Umm, i-is it okay If umm..We do this, with..your wife?”

Ellody giggled, “I don’t think ‘she’ wants to do it right now, but maybe next time; she’s still getting used to it.”

Max nodded in agreement, he gathered his stuff. Saying good bye to Ellody. As he walks out of the room, he bumps into Matsuki. “Oh-oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Matsuki crossed her eyes, “It’s okay, I just got home. You usually left before I got here, is there something up?”

Max answered quickly, “N-no, we just thought of we can squeeze in extra time with my work y’know. See you later, Mrs. Nakajima.”

Matsuki rolled her eyes, “Call me Matsuki, ‘Mrs. Nakajima’ is my mom.”

“Oh sorry, well I gotta go home now.” he walked out of the house & went home. Matsuki watches him go, & enters the room to her wife in the shower.

Technically, Matsuki knows what the two don’t know, yet. She happens to arrive home early & heard the moans of the two in the bedroom. She peeked on them & saw her own wife having sex with a 17 year old. She wanted to confront them, but instead she enjoyed it. She hid herself, & she started to self-please herself as she hears the moans of the two are going at it.

Typically, she reached climax when the two did, she heard about them talking about her & him wanting to do it with her & Ellody. The thought made her blush, & excited.  

She acted like she got home & she went along with Max’s bluff. When she entered the room, heard that Ellody is in the shower. She stripped off of her clothes & went in with her.

Matsuki surprisingly spoken, “Hi there sweetie, was the kid good?”

Ellody jumped, but she calmly answered, “Oh, he’s doing okay, progressing like any other teenager these days.I just wonder why is it hard for him to understand geometry.”

Matsuki snorted, “Hey, some people are like that. They need people like us to make them feel great.” she smirks when she said “great”, which was in a seductive tone. She went up to Ellody & grab her breasts. Ellody yelped, “Ohhh, frisky huh?” Ellody says it seductively. The two smirk & then they made out in the shower. Though they did ended up being intimate in the shower, but they continued it on the bed.

Max walked home & his day went by usually. He went to bed.

Happy, at least.

[fever-dream-journal]

Freedom?

I awoke in the same room as I always did, on the same bed as always. Alone, like always. The same rotting metal bed frame with an old mattress lay under me, the heat register next to it. The window was above the heat register. The light of the moon shone through my window on the lone desk in the corner of the room, highlighting some chipped paint on the walls. I think the desk was there to write letters to your loved ones then the managers would send them off. I never bothered. I’ve been here for 10 years. I’m 17. My parents obviously don’t care that much about me. I’m just glad Lorelei managed to make it in here with me. We’ve been able to grow up together, like she always promised. I don’t know how I got here though. The last thing I remember was I was in my bed after introducing Lorelei to my parents.

FLASHBACK START

I ran to my parents excitedly, Lorelei following close behind me. Just before we got to my parents, Lorelei had stopped me.

“Cera, I don’t think this is the best idea. Wh-what if your parents don’t like me?” I shook my head.

“That’s ridiculous! They’re going to love you! Come on, come on, come on!”

I grabbed her hand and dragged her to where my parents were in the kitchen. It looked like they were looking over some letters from the mail. They glanced up at me with curiosity.

“Mom. Dad. I want you to meet Lorelei! She’s my best friend and I met her in class. Well, not really in class, more like on the playground, but it doesn’t matter!” I turned to Lorelei. “Lorelei, these are my parents!”

I looked to my parents, who looked to each other, then back at me. My mom was the first to speak.

“Darling, you’re a little too old to be having imaginary friends.”

I felt my heart shatter. “Mother! What are you talking about? She’s right here! That’s not very nice.” I had let my head fall, looking to the ground. My father was the one who spoke next.

“Your mother and I are very busy. Go play imaginary upstairs. We don’t have the time right now.” “B-but Da-” I stopped as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to see Lorelei was the source. “Let it go. There’s no use in trying..” I sighed, knowing she was right. “Alright. Let’s just go to my room. I can show you some of my favorite toys!” I started heading to the stairs, then noticed Lorelei still standing near my parents. “Are you coming?” I asked, trying not to sound rude. Manners are important as my parents always taught me.

“I’ll catch up with you, I just need to use the bathroom.”

It took her longer than a few minutes before she came back. She didn’t look concerned, but she did ask me a weird question.

“Do you know a place called Scalebor Park? I heard your parents talking about it, but I don’t know what it is.” I had never heard the name before, but it sounds fun. “No, but if there’s a park nearby I wanna go!” I laughed a little.

Lorelei smiled softly at me, as if she knew something. “Go to sleep for now, maybe we’ll go tomorrow, it’s getting late.”

END OF FLASHBACK

Lorelei never told me the truth about that night. I’ve always been curious. She’s very smart and knows more than I ever did. She’d help me study sometimes. I couldn’t take my curiosity anymore though.

“Lorelei… I know you heard something and didn’t tell me, 10 years ago, the night I introduced you to my parents.”

I watched Lorelei as she walked in from the corner of a room. A small crawl space. I’m pretty sure it’s a trap if anyone tries to escape.

“How long have you known this?” I can’t help but smile. She underestimates me sometimes.

“Well, I could tell something wasn’t right that night. You never get me to go to sleep so quickly, and you were kinda pale faced when you came up from the ‘washroom’. What really happened..? I need to know.”

Lorelei sighed. “I knew this day would come. That night, after you went to sleep, they called this place. This is Scalebor Park. This place takes phone calls and comes into the callers houses to get the patient. This is Scalebor Park Asylum. You’ve been in an asylum for 10 years.”

I stared blankly at Lorelei, not wanting to believe her. “Th-they put me here..?” I manage to choke out.

Lorelei speaks softly, trying to calm me down. “They say you have schizophrenia, your parents. That’s what they told the guards on their phone.”

I shake my head and grip at my hair, trying to get the thought out of my head. “N-No! I’M NOT! I'm NORMAL!”

Lorelei, as always, pulls me into a hug and rocks me slowly, letting me cry on her shoulder. “I-I don’t belong here Lorelei. Y-you know that! R-Right?”

She nods at me sympathetically.

“Of course I do Cercie. But it’s not like you can break out. No one has ever broken out of this place before. It’s nearly impossible. I’m sor-”

“It’s not impossible! Nothing is! Everything has to be possible or else it wouldn’t exist!” I shout at Lorelei. She takes a step back.

“Relax. Breathe. In through the nose, out the mouth. Hum a song.”

The usual tips. I take a deep breath in through the nose and out the mouth, like she told me, and after a few times, I feel relaxed.

“I’m sorry Lorelei.. But you know I don’t belong here.” I pause, thinking of something. “I got it! Once the guards come in to check on us, we ditch this place. We just need to be careful.” I point to the small crawl space. “That's where we go. We crawl through there to the end, then get to the window. Once at the window, we crawl out of it. Careful not to scratch yourself, or bleed. They caught someone two years back by a blood trail. We need to stick to the shadows. If any guards come, hide. Whether it’s under a truck or around a wall. Don’t get caught. Then, once we get to the gate, we need to keep going. We can’t stop. They probably have people patrolling through the closest town. Don’t let me stop. No matter what. I know I’m not in any condition for this, considering they don’t exactly feed us properly, or give us enough liquids. Tonight we get a small bottle of water for the upcoming week. If I can get out of here and tell someone how we’re treated, I should be safe!”

Lorelei looked at me as if I were crazy. She didn’t talk for a while.

“Are you sure? It’s extremely dangerous, you could get hurt.” She mumbles something, but I ignored it, thinking over the consequences of trying to escape.

“If we got caught, would they just bring us back here, or would they kill us?”

Lorelei shook her head.

“Let’s think on the positive side. You’re Cera Flaire! You can do anything!”

I felt my cheeks heat up a bit. “Th-thank you Lorelei. You’re truly amazing.”

I pull Lorelei into a hug, feeling her wrap her arms around me. Maybe when this whole situation is over, she and I can become closer.

“Alright Cera. Try not to be too excited about your plan. If the guards see any change in your attitude, they’ll know something's up.” I nod, knowing she’s right, as usual, and lay down in my bed, waiting for the guards to show up.

After what seemed like days, the guards came in and gave me my small bottle of water, then checked around the room to make sure I hadn’t tried to make an escape. I’m glad they never check under my bed. That’s where Lorelei hides whenever someone comes to check up on me. I’d go crazy if they found her and made her leave. I stared at the guards as they finished their search and left. It’s what I normally do.

I waited for them to be gone for a few minutes before quickly hopping out of my bed and getting Lorelei from under the bed. We smile and nod at each other, understanding the mission and dangers that lay ahead of us.

“It’s now or never,” I say, grabbing my small bag, tossing my water bottle in it. “If we get caught.” I shake my head, not wanting to think about that. I take a deep breath.

“Ready Lorelei?”

She nods. “I’m ready, Cera. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

“You know just as much as I know that I don’t belong here. They think I’m crazy, but I’m not. I need to get out.” I quickly speak, not wanting to have to stay here anymore. The people who brought me here were called because they think I’m schizophrenic, but I know I’m not, and neither is Lorelei. She’s really sweet. Her long, curly dirty-blonde hair flows down onto her shoulders and frames her pale face perfectly. Her bright blue eyes help light up her face, next to her perfect smile.

“Cera?” Lorelei shook my shoulder, calling my name. I must have fallen into a daydream. I’m usually able to multi-task easily, but I guess not this time.

“Yeah, sorry,” I say, starting to head to the crawl space. “I got…” I’m not sure what to say. “Distracted.” I managed to say.

We head down the small crawl space, pack on my back and dirt and rocks digging their way into our hands and knees. I wish we could make the space larger so we didn’t have to crawl. We eventually got out of the canal and onto the streets. This is it. We’re going to break free. No one has ever fully broken out of this place before, from what I’ve heard. We go to take a step out from the corner when I see a guard doing his patrol. Shit! I quickly pull Lorelei down to the ground and put a hand over her mouth so she doesn’t scream. “Quiet.” I whisper as I remove my hand. “Why?” “Guard.” I barely let her finish her question.

The guard walked past us, not seeing us on the ground. I wait a moment before getting up and running around the corner, Lorelei following close behind. We run a couple blocks before I see another guard. I stop dead in my tracks, Lorelei presumably doing the same. I pull her to the ground and see a truck next to us. I roll under it, motioning for Lorelei to follow. Just like before, the guard walks by us, his heavy army-like boots stomp past our heads. Once I felt it was safe, I motioned Lorelei out from the truck and soon followed. We started jogging again. I won't lie, I was exhausted/ I hadn’t done this much running since gym class in elementary school. Before I was, you know. I was broken from my thoughts as an alarm went off. We must have set off a trap!

I turn to Lorelei and we both yell in unison. “RUN!”

We both start running for dear life, not wanting to be caught, or find out what happens when we get caught. The gates got closer into view and I could taste freedom. As we reached the gates, I saw my problem. They were closed.

I turn to Lorelei, then turn fully around. The guards were running towards us. As they got closer, everything started to fade to white. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to clear my view. Everything just got more and more white. I close my eyes fully, not sure what else to do. As I slowly open them again, I’m in a room. All four walls are white. I'm even dressed in all white! There’s a white jacket on me though?

After a near panic attack, I calm myself down and look around.

Someone came into my room.

“Ahh, the medication kicked in.”  

[disrepairhouse]

Chapter 12 - Valentine’s Day

"I thought you didn't like these 'silly' things."  RK grinned down at the other bot, watching him turn a hateful eye up at him from the couch.  Metal Sonic was sat, crossed-legged in the middle of the couch, a controller sat on one knee so he could reach all the buttons with one hand.  The TV sat on a pause screen with an older, lightly scuffed game console connected to it and placed beside it on the stand.  RK pulled off his boots as Metal returned to his game, resisting the urge to laugh at the lack of response and, instead, decided to watch.

The game was a pixelated platformer that RK had picked up in a bundle deal with the console online.  Someone was selling it on a resale site along with two games and two controllers for far cheaper than any store listings.  He was originally going to have to wait until his next paycheck to pick anything up, but it had been a lucky find.  Itara had been thrilled by its appearance, and spent equal amounts of time dodging homework to play the handheld simulation game and the console platformer.  Metal Sonic, on the other hand, had spent several weeks scoffing at it before RK finally caught him playing it when he came home from work.

"I don't," the other bot insisted, still glaring at the screen, "I'm just studying. Your tiny child seems to greatly enjoy these so obviously they're some form of mental training.  I refuse to be left behind in these strange training tactics."

RK almost audibly laughed.  At least Metal Sonic had stopped calling her an 'anomaly', but to insist that she was training rather than just enjoying the games was so utterly ridiculous he doubted Metal actually expected him to believe it.  "Sure, Metal, it's training," he grinned, turning back towards the kitchen, knowing Itara would be home from school soon and wanted to have an afterschool snack ready for her.  Metal cast him another sideways scowl, but returned to the game quickly enough. It was something at least.  Now he wondered how often Metal came up from the lab to play while no one was home.  Maybe he would ask Kipper.

Just as expected, Itara got home almost as soon as he finished making her a snack, setting it out on the table as the front door closed and looked over to let her know it was there.  He stopped when he saw the frustrated look on her face, though.  "What's wrong?"  Metal looked over from the TV to study her, but said nothing and returned again to the game.  He couldn't be distracted from his training.

"There's some kind of event coming up at the school and I don't understand it," she explained, glancing at Metal Sonic and the TV, eyeing him suspiciously, before continuing to the table, "RK, what do you know about Valentine's Day?"

"Let me find out."  Motioning to the snack at the table, he opened his internal browser and searched the term, scanning through several articles, histories, and common modern practices to give her a full explanation.  Well.  Almost full. There were some apparent facets of the holiday he would not be explaining, since they were more adult-based than something someone her... well, physical... age should be concerned with. "It appears to be a holiday for couples, mostly.  Depending on the region and culture, one side of a couple gives the other some sort of edible gift and card, sometimes a toy of some kind.  They can either be homemade gifts or store bought.  For younger children, it's seems more customary to give out cards to classmates, as well as a potential future mate." Looking down at her again, he questioned, "What did the school say regarding this?"

"They said we could hand out cards but only after school to keep distractions to a minimum. But chocolates were to be left outside school."  She poked at the carrots on her ‘snack’ plate, having been hoping for a cookie but at least the dipping sauce was sugary.  "I don't really have any interest in any of it but if someone's giving out free chocolate I want some."

"Did you... want to make cards for you classmates?"

"No, not really.  I don't like any of them that much."

RK contemplated it, wondering whether he should force the subject further or not but shrugged and let her be.  It did, however, give him an idea.  "Very well, then finish your snack and do your homework."

Itara mumbled incoherently under her breath at the mention of homework, but side-eyed Metal from the table, "I thought those were 'silly mortal things', Sparky?" RK smirked again while Metal Sonic glared over his shoulder.

"As I told RK earlier, I will tell you now.  I am studying your tactics, child.  Just because you use strange systems to train with doesn't mean I haven't caught onto it. Now silence and let me train."

"What? Those aren't-" But RK stopped her, shaking his head with a slight smirk.  He wanted to see how long Metal Sonic thought that excuse would last and having Itara explain it outright would cut his fun short.  She eyed him when he did, but shrugged and went back to her snack, mumbling again while RK headed down to the lab.  He needed to charge for a while; it had been an active day at work.

“And you’re absolutely sure you don’t want to pick up some cards on the way to school? It’ll be last minute but…,” RK began, helping Itara into her jacket and backpack.  No matter how many times he asked to be sure, she always refused, but he figured he would give it one final check before she headed off for the day of.

But just as she’d done every other time, Itara rolled her eyes and pulled her shoes on, “I’m sure, RK.  I don’t care enough.  I doubt I’m going to get anything, why should I bother with them?”

“You never know, you might.”

She scoffed and turned for the door, reaching up for the knob, “I don’t need my powers to know. I’m leaving now.”

“Alright, see you when you get home.  Try not to fight any monsters or set any robots off on your class today.”  He stood back up and followed her to the door, getting a ‘hardy har’ from the little girl as she stepped carefully off the porch.  It had been a few days since the last snow and the temperature was beginning to up-and-down its way towards warmer days, but there was still no end to the slippery slush.  The snow had reached a high point of four feet and there were several inches of pure ice underneath the thickest parts.  The ice was kept mostly off the sidewalks and roads, but even a bit of slush offered a precarious trip for someone as clumsy as the tiny hedgehog edging her way down to the station.

RK watched her for several feet, as he often did, before turning back around and closing the door.  Metal was lounged across the couch again, the controller resting within reach on the floor, clicking through the limited channels the antenna offered.  RK made a quick reminder about looking into cable or satellite TV as he walked to the closet to grab one of his longer jackets to pull on, returning as Metal finally decided on a news report.

“More monsters sited outside of Soleanna today.  Officials are warning citizens to be cautious of these monsters, and are urging anyone with potential information to report it to the proper authorities. Rumors have started that the Royal Family might be seeking out the help of Sonic the Hedgehog to deal with these threats, though an unknown figure has been spotted taking out a number of them, as well.  Today we’ll-.”

“Tch.” Metal scoffed, flipping the channel and reaching for the controller to turn the console on, instead.  “Idiot hedgehog.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to fight him again someday,” RK commented on his way to the door, getting a side-eyed glare from the other robot, though only for a quick second before the starting screen of his game drew his attention back to the TV. “In any case, I need to make a run into town but I won’t be long.  Did you want anything while I’m out?”

“The rest of my body.”

“Hopefully soon, Metal.”  RK closed the door behind him, debating whether or not to lock the door, since there was technically someone home, but thought it best to lock it just in case. He didn’t want to chance anything. Tossing his keys in his jacket pocket, he headed down the driveway, pulling up the directions to his destination. As per usual, he walked far enough to be out of sight of the neighborhood, and then took off on a careful run.  The slush and ice made it difficult even for him.

While doing his research regarding the day for Itara, RK had realized that Valentine’s Day, while mostly reserved for romantic—generally organic—couples, offered an opportunity for people to grow closer and bond more.  He’d read that many friend groups often celebrated the holiday with each other, as well, and even parents sometimes bought candies or toys for their children.  Much like any other holiday, it seemed to spread beyond one, singular, purpose and therefore gave him an idea.  He’d already bought a pack of the brownies Itara liked for when she got home, now he wanted to pick something up for Metal Sonic.

Itara would be at school for the bulk of the day, and he didn’t have work today, so he thought he might spend some time with Metal.  He was hoping, between the gift he was picking up and the plans for later, it might improve Metal’s mood by at least a small margin.  The other bot really was just always grumpy and, having made a list of likely reasons, RK planned to run them down to see what would finally pick his partner back up again. He didn’t remember Metal Sonic always being such a grouch, after all.  Destructive, sure, that was the core of his programming: to annihilate anything that stood in his way.  But not always so angry.

He was sure working under Robotnik had sparked much of that animosity, going back to the doctor after going rogue once before and then continuously not being used for your main purpose.  He wasn’t sure what was worse: being misused or being inactive, but either way, it was a sore spot for either of them.  But while he’d finally gotten mostly over it, Metal Sonic hadn’t.  RK didn’t blame him, there was more there to hate for him, but it made the top most reason for his anger hard to combat.  So, instead, he would start on the rest of the list and maybe after some time, and repairs, Metal Sonic could feel more at ease.

Getting him active again and able to move was step one and two.  The boxed item tucked away under his arm was step three.  It hadn’t been an easy item to find by any means, he hadn’t planned to even start looking until the snow melted more, but the holiday gave him the push to look.  It had been the first time he’d ever relied on anyone from work for anything, normally he didn’t talk to anyone, but he remembered a guy he worked with a couple times before that could be of use and got in contact with him.  He was shockingly helpful.  RK would need to do some work on it, himself, once he got it home, or Metal could, but that wouldn’t be a problem for either of them.

It was an hour’s run out, with the inconvenience of the ice, and another hour’s run home for the same reason.  Luckily, the actual pick-up was an in-and-out job with no delays.  It was barely ten by the time he reached the neighborhood again and the present for Metal was still safely tucked away in its long, wrapped box. He hurried down the street… but had to resist a cringe as a woman’s voice called out to him as soon as he passed the third house down from theirs.

“Oh! RK!  I was just going to head over to your place to see if you were home,” Lynda called out in her ever-cheerful voice.  RK inwardly sighed, but turned around to face the woman cautiously jogging up to him.  She was as heavily made-up as ever and wrapped in a thick, white, wooly sweater, her hair smelled heavily of a bleach scent, which RK learned was a tactic organics used to lighten their hair or fur.  It was more common for humans than mobians as mobians were more sensitive to the chemical.

“Hello Lynda. What can I do for you today?”  Please let it be nothing.

“Did you hear the news this morning?  More attacks in the city, isn’t it just dreadful?  I’m so afraid for my Simon sometimes, with everything that’s happened,” she frowned, her hand going up to her mouth, “do you worry for Itara as well?”

The side of RK’s mouth pulled back as he considered the answer.  Well, he worried for Itara plenty, but usually for other reasons.  “I suppose I do, but she knows how to take care of herself.”  Mostly.  As long as Mephiles isn’t around.

“Oh, what a strong girl she must be,” Lynda responded, continuing for several minutes about topics RK only vaguely paid attention to.  She went on about the school, the attacks, Simon’s various allergies, even mentioning Sonic at one point and causing RK to change the subject when she questioned him about his view on the hedgehog.  He didn’t loathe Sonic quite like Metal did, but he was no fan of him, either.  When Lynda went on a tangent about the blue hedgehog, the news report earlier that day sparking her sudden interest, RK finally stopped her when she mentioned Knuckles.  He still had the same knee-jerk reaction to his mobian counterpart, much as Metal Sonic did, and didn’t want to provoke a reaction in front of the human woman who seemed otherwise entirely oblivious to the concerns of mobians.

“Listen, Lynda, as much as I don’t mind standing here chatting with you,” he interrupted, though he actually minded quite a bit, “I need to get this home and out of the cold.”  He motioned towards the box under his arm, drawing her attention to it and seeming to remind her of her initial reason for coming out.  “So if there’s nothing-.”

“Oh!  Right, I’m sorry,” she laughed, waving a hand, “there was something I wanted to ask you, though.”

Great.

“So, you know what day it is, right?”  There was a strange coyness to her tone.

“Valentine’s Day, correct?  Itara asked about it in regards to school.”

“Yes, I bought Simon some little cartoon cards to hand out to his class.  Did Itara bring anything for it?”  RK shook his head and she continued, “well, anyway, the kids are gone until much later and, as you know, I’m a single woman these days. There really aren’t many other single dads—or uncles, I suppose—around here.  I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come celebrate a bit at my house. We could have a Valentine Lunch, with the house all to ourselves.  What do you think?”

Oh.  So that was it.  RK looked away from her, mentally grimacing at the offer and narrowing down the best possible response.  Of course, he couldn’t actually eat and that was a problem in and of itself, but more than anything he already had plans to spend time with Metal. Maybe that was a sufficient enough response.  Looking over again, he studied her expectant expression before explaining, “I apologize, I’m afraid I can’t.  I already have plans with… Sparky today.”  Motioning towards the box again, he continued, “This is a present for him, in fact.”

Lynda’s expectant face dropped to confusion as her eyes darted from him to the box to him again. She seemed baffled and RK worried he might have upset her.  She was incessant, for whatever reason, but it seemed she had a fair bit of control over the neighborhood, it would likely be unfortunate to get on her bad side. As he considered another form of apology to hopefully lessen whatever reaction she was having, her expression changed again and she looked over at him with uncertainty.

“The, uh, blue mobian, huh?”

“Uh… yes.”

She crossed her arms, appearing to consider his response, shifting her weight to one leg as she stared at the ground.  Eventually she looked up again and smiled, “oh, I see.  I should have asked sooner, sorry for asking so last-minute.  So what’s the present for?  Is his birthday near?”  RK’s brows furrowed in confusion.  Did she not realize it was a Valentine’s gift?  That was the holiday, after all.  But when he explained, she laughed again, “You must be the kind of sweetheart that gets presents for all your work buddies.  How precious.  Did you get something for Itara as well?”

“Well, yes, I got her some brownies.  She likes the ones with the little colorful candies.”

“Good on you. I suppose I should let you hurry on home, then.  Next time I’ll remember to ask you earlier so you don’t make plans beforehand.  Have a good day, RK,” Lynda waved, turning around and finally heading back to her house, leaving a perturbed and slightly concerned RK behind.  It would apparently be harder to get out of her plans next time.  He briefly considered making daily plans with either Metal or Itara to ensure he always had an out as he turned around and continued back to the house.

As soon as he entered the door, he sighed and dropped his shoulders, “how tiring.”

“Don’t tell me a short run tires you out now, RK,” Metal mocked from the couch, not taking his eyes off the screen as RK shot him a glare.

“No, the run did not tire me out, Sparky,” that got exactly the response RK was looking for, to which he only grinned and set the long, thin box up against the wall to pull his shoes off.  “I ran into Lynda on my way back.  Or rather, she came after me.  I don’t understand why, but she is determined to bother me as often as possible.  She invited me over for a Valentine’s lunch and only barely accepted my excuse that I already made plans with you.”  Metal narrowed his eye further.

“I don’t trust that human, she’s up to something.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

“There’s a reason for that.  You should take note.”

RK rolled an eye, picking the box up again and moving over to the couch, sitting down beside him, reaching over and shoving the other bot’s legs off the cushions, gaining him yet another scowl.  “In any case, it wasn’t just an excuse, I was hoping to spend some time with you today so turn your game off for a bit.”

Metal hesitated for a brief moment, looking between RK and the game with reluctance, not wanting to turn it off but eventually doing so.  “What do you want?”

“While I was looking into the holiday for Itara, it occurred to me that it could be used as an opportunity to bond with others.  We haven’t actually done much together in years, centuries if you consider the multiple timelines we’ve all experienced.  Even before everything with Mephiles happened, I was inactive for years, but I did enjoy working with you so long ago.  You’ve likely worked with a number of others, being the first of our series and in use for so much longer, but you’ve always been my best partner. I want to try and get some of that back, without Robotnik controlling our every move.”

Metal remained silent, studying him, so RK held the box out to him, continuing, “I thought we could start with this.  I’m sorry it took me so long to get ahold of, and it needs a bit of work, but it’s a start. It shouldn’t be difficult for either of us to get up to our standards and it should help you out a fair bit.”

Still, Metal remained silent, but shifted his position to set the box in his lap, studying it cautiously but then reaching around to snap the tape around it.  The box, itself, was about two feet in length and about six inches in width and height.  It was a thick cardboard wrapped tightly in packing tape and a shipping sticker on one end.  Once Metal had the tape cleared away, he pulled the lid off to reveal a long, slender, shiny metallic arm.  The shoulder and elbow was the same ball joint as his other arm and the material looked flexible and lightweight.  The hand was fully jointed and ended in sharp claws, much like his current hand, though the style was slightly different.

“There’s a guy I work with whose wife is an engineer and they were looking for a way to test a new material.  I told him about your missing arm and she agreed to make it for you as long as I send the results back.  I figured it was a small price to pay for getting you a functional, high quality arm,” he explained, watching Metal pick the arm up and inspect it.

“You told them we were robots?”

“No, I used Itara’s excuse that you were just injured at work and lost an arm.  I told them you had a prosthetic built in once but it was cheap and fell apart so you have the nerve connection already, you just needed the robotic parts.”

“Hm. Clever.”

The room remained silent for several minutes as Metal studied the arm, testing the weight and balance and material, while RK studied Metal, waiting for his response. After some time, Metal looked up again, “well, I suppose we should find out whether this engineer is worth anything.” RK smirked, but nodded and got up, following him down to the lab to get the arm attached.

Once they were down in the lab, RK instructed Metal to get set up on one of the chairs near the computer while he went to grab the tools necessary to connect the arm. They would have to do a bit of work to get it situated properly, considering both how intricate of a robot Metal Sonic was to begin with, but also the work they did in removing the previous damaged arm.  It would be no quick process and thus RK decided to throw in his secondary idea while he was working to reopen the shoulder for the new ball joint.

He told Metal to hook into the computer, telling him he had more files to transfer and wanted to keep track of the installation.  Once Metal was hooked up, he plugged into the computer, as well, getting a strange look from the other bot, but initiated a file transfer while he continued working on the shoulder.

The new arm was entirely for Metal’s sake, both wanting his fellow robot to have full range of motion again but also hoping it would improve his mood.  The files he was transferring, however, were a number of memories he still held regarding both him… and Itara.  He’d already shared a number of files regarding Itara up to that point, but he hadn’t showed him all of them, for a number of reasons.  He was hoping, by sharing them now, it might convince Metal she was hardly any threat to them and that it was, in fact, thanks to her that the timeline wasn’t destroyed completely.  Because she had that relationship with him and Kipper, her memories caused a rift in Solaris as a whole.  Metal should have remembered that from the fight.

Metal hardly seemed pleased with the attempt at first, realizing what RK was up to again, but stored the memories, nonetheless.  Besides, they weren’t all about Itara, either.  Some of them were memories regarding him.  When he was broken and unable to function, the pieces he had been in.  It was frustrating, realizing he had been so badly damaged, but knowing RK spent so much time and effort repairing him, even putting his own systems at risk to get him back online… well, he was still dysfunctional.  He’d consider thanking them when he was fully repaired.

He glanced down at the new arm, looking between it and the old one, giving it all a good bit of thought.  Suddenly it occurred to him which arm was the new one.  One eye flashing at the realization, he looked at the new arm again, holding it out as soon as he had control over it.  The scar.  His constant reminder of his failure.  It was gone. The only damage Robotnik refused to let him repair, the lighting scar on his right arm, it had been on the removed arm. Looking back at RK, he questioned warily, “My other arm, did you find it?”

RK looked up from where he had been working on his shoulder and shook his head, “no, otherwise I would have tried to repair it, rather than just removing the whole thing. There were a number of parts I just couldn’t find.  I found pieces of your other hand, but the arm was gone.  Why?”  Metal looked forward again, dimming his eye as he thought it over.  So it was gone for good.  That constant reminder was gone.  “Metal?”

He shook his head, turning his optics on again and explained, “No reason.”

RK raised an eyebrow but went back to work.  It was another hour of work before he finally stood back and crossed his arms, “Okay, I think that should about do it.  Test it out and let me know if there are any kinks.  It might be rough from the get-go but as your systems integrate it should get smoother.”

Metal pulled his hand up, curling his fingers and moving his arm out and back in again.  He made a fist, rolled his shoulder, and stretched the arm out, testing every movement and function and ensuring he had full control of it.  Satisfied, he grinned, “finally.”

RK returned the grin, nodding and moving to put the tools back, “congrats, you have two working arms again.  You can challenge Itara to another game of pinball without my help.”  Metal shot him a glare at the comment, getting little more than a side smirk from the warbot.  Once the tools were put back away and the bots disconnected from the computer again, they headed back up to the main house.  Itara would be home from school soon and there were investigations to conduct before she returned.