#because the reveal for high roller made me crack up so much

[baalzebufo]

high roller is a hoot so what if Other Manager Fusions... :^)

[saiilorstars]

Metamorphosis

Ch. 1: A New Beginning

Current Masterlist // Previous Story //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​

[If you would like to be added to this specific OC’s taglist, let me know!]

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Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to my 3rd OC/Doctor pairing story. This is the second story of the 'Home Saga' involving my Time Lady OC Renata and the (now) 11th Doctor. I recommend that you go back to the first story "The Beginning of Everything" listed on my porfile for a better understanding of Renata's history and her story with the Doctor. Now this story will be a rewrite of Season 5 and some canon Doctor Who comic stories as well as my own original chapters. This story will also feature a canon Latinx Doctor Who comic companion, Gabby Gonzalez. She is NOT my creation.

Couple of fun things: Renata's and the Doctor's main theme song is "Home" by Gabrielle Aplin. Renata's personal theme song is Butterfly by Luna Mae. (There's a specific playlist for them on my profile)

Chapter summary: Renata and the newly regenerated Doctor have crash landed into a little girl’s backyard where they dive headfirst into another adventure.

Renata had never seen a more disastrous regeneration unfold. Of course only the Doctor could make that happen. She shouldn't even be surprised. It was only a matter of time until one of his regenerations caused the TARDIS to nearly explode. She furiously ran around the console, trying to calm the box without getting her hands burned in the process. Parts of the console room were still in flames and where was the culprit!?

"DOCTOR!" Renata's yell could almost go above the thuds and sparks from the lit console.

"Busy!" the newly regenerated Doctor called back only to have Renata snap.

"No you're not! You're…" she trailed off after poking her head around the console to see the Doctor pulling himself back inside the box.

"You left me dangling out there!" He exclaimed, flapping a hand at the open doors. The TARDIS had lurched to the side, throwing him out like a ragdoll.

Renata's dark eyes widened indignantly. She huffed and stepped away — or stumbled away because of the bouncy ride — from the console. "I did not! I'm trying to fix your mess! You can't even regenerate properly!"

Now it was the Doctor's turn to be offended. "What!? Excuse me for not dying the right way!"

Renata stalked over to him, intending on pulling him away from the doors that he irresponsibly left open as well. "The TARDIS needs to land so it can properly repair itself but I can't do that because—oh no!" She had gasped at something past him out the door. The Doctor whirled around to see them about to hit Big Ben. He used his sonic screwdriver to pull them to the side, a rather harsh turn that sent them both flying.

Only this time it sent the Doctor away from the doors and Renata out the doors.

"Renata!" the Doctor panicked. Oh, if he killed her, she would definitely kill him.

Like him, Renata had managed to hold onto the edge of the entrance. Now she dangled and was terrified for her lives. "GET ME UP! I HATE HEIGHTS!" she cried.

The Doctor scrambled to the doorway and looked down at her. He felt absolutely terrible because this wasn't the first time she was in this situation. She had her eyes screwed shut and her hands gripping the TARDIS as much as she could.

"You need to stop doing this to me!" she shouted when she felt his hands grab her arms. Last time she dangled from a terribly high height was on the first day she met Donna Noble in the Adipose building, and just like then she screamed for help now.

"Up you go!" the Doctor pulled her up and into the TARDIS. She was far too terrified and wrapped her arms around his neck as if he would stop her from falling again. Despite her clinging to him, the Doctor managed to shut the doors behind them.

The TARDIS continued to spin and lurch, throwing the two against the door. Renata's back hit the door with a thud and because she still held onto the Doctor, she brought him with her. Now she was locked between him and the door.

Despite their situation, the Doctor still found time to smile at her. "Hello," he greeted her for the first time since regenerating.

She was right, he hadn't regenerated properly. All the physical injuries he sustained in his previous incarnation carried over and it meant that the regeneration process had to work twice as hard to heal everything. The poor TARDIS never stood a chance and Renata had to work hard to keep them alive. There'd been no time to say hello and make sure she was alright. He would take these few seconds to do at least one of those two things.

Renata froze under that new gaze of his; she swallowed out of nervousness. Though he had a younger face, his emerald green eyes still held all the love and intensity he confessed before regenerating. It was still enough to calm her in the midst of a scary situation. But the TARDIS shook them again, reminding her pilots that she needed help or else they were all goners. The pair headed — a bit zig-zag from all the lurches — towards the console. They had to stop it before somebody got hurt. As it was, there was somebody below them who was asking for help from a higher power...the only higher power a seven year old could think of.

Little Amelia Pond didn't know what else to do with the ugly crack on her bedroom wall. It didn't look right and it didn't sound right either. Cracks shouldn't be making sounds. That's why she was scared of it. If it was a normal crack like her aunt Sharon told her it was, then she wouldn't hear noises from it.

Santa Claus had to help. She was just so sorry that she was waking him up during Easter. But just as she was once again asking for his help, she heard a crash in her backyard yard. Her ginger hair whipped to the side when she made the quick turn. She dashed to her window and looked below to see a dark blue box on the ground. She didn't understand power a lot, but she thought if Santa sent them then it must mean it was good enough to help her with the crack. Now she just had to be brave enough to go see it up close.

She grabbed her red jacket and the first shoes she saw - a pair of wellies - then ran out of her room. She ran as fast as she could down the stairs, thinking if she delayed then the box would disappear and she would be back to step one with the crack. She had just made it into the yard when the doors of the box flung open. The grappling hook that was thrown out and latched onto her lawn roller stopped her for a moment. What kind of box did that? Then she saw hands grabbing onto the edge of the box. A man's head popped out first, revealing incredibly wet hair.

"Can I have an apple?" he asked as soon as he met the girl's gaze. That was the first thing that his mind had thought of after such a ride. It was odd what regeneration did. "All I can think about - apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving. That's new - never had cravings before!"

Amelia swore she heard somebody screaming from inside the box. She was sure when the man flinched and looked below to respond to whatever had spoken inside the box.

"Sorry, love," he climbed out of the box then reached for something inside — somebody inside.

Amelia blinked when he pulled out a dark-haired woman from the box. Like him, she was soaking wet. "Are you okay?" the question blurted from Amelia's mouth.

"No! I am not!" Renata answered without even looking at the girl. She didn't even register that the Doctor hadn't been the one to ask the question. She wouldn't straddle the TARDIS like the Doctor was, she wanted to step on actual ground. She wanted to confirm that she was no longer dangling in the air.

"It is freezing out here! Where are we!?" Renata hugged herself wet body and began to look around. With such a landing, she didn't have the opportunity to see where the TARDIS had deposited them in. All she saw was water from the swimming pool.

They were in a garden, probably a backyard, that could honestly use some work. The grass was unkempt which meant somebody had neglected to give it a proper mowing. There were abandoned tools to one side — she winced when she realized that they had inadvertently smashed the shed — and then a park bench that could use some cleaning. Finally, she saw a swing set…

Oh. Renata glanced at the girl, eyes wide when she finally realized there was a child present. A child had asked her if she was alright and she'd been so rude. "So sorry," she quickly apologized. "Uh...bit off my rocker thanks to…" she threw a sharp look at the Doctor who couldn't seem bothered. His grin was a sign alright.

Amelia looked between them and wondered how Santa thought they were capable of helping her. Then again, if they were this strange then perhaps they were the right ones to handle a strange crack with noise. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"We just had a fall," the Doctor said, patting the TARDIS under him. "All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of a climb back up."

"Yes, my library is ruined now," Renata came back to the box and peered inside, though as soon as she did she pulled away. It was an outright mess in there. "And Gabriella's going to be furious that her art room is basically nonexistent."

The Doctor winced. Up until now, their companion Gabriella Gonzalez hadn't ever been properly angry with him, so he was really hoping that he could keep that streak when they went back to pick her up.

Amelia hadn't understood what they were saying, but she could still make sense of what she saw. "You're soaking wet."

"Yes, we are," Renata glared at the Doctor again. She hugged herself and cursed the dress she wore.

"Yeah, you are," the Doctor repeated but he wasn't so upset like she was. He was staring at her with a growing smirk.

Renata blinked when she finally caught on to the fact he was checking her out. Her pretty flower-patterned dress was hugging her body in just the right way. He was loving the fact he could see her curves, her new curves that she would otherwise probably never show.

Her face went mad red, probably almost the shade of Amelia's hair. She turned away in an attempt to focus on Amelia, but there was a tingling feeling running up her backside. You are not going to do that right here, she scolded herself. But she may have sneaked a glance at the Doctor. He was still staring at her appreciatively.

Renata bit her lower lip and forced herself to pay attention to Amelia for real this time. "I am so sorry for the mess we've made here. I, uh, can tell that you've worked hard to keep this...garden clean…"

Amelia smiled in amusement when Renata had to practically force herself to finish that sentence after checking out the garden again. "Nobody takes care of the garden. But how come you're wet?"

"We were, uh, in the swimming pool," Renata walked back to the TARDIS, discreetly pinching the Doctor's arm. When the man yelped she smiled sweetly at him. He needed a good snap back to reality.

"You said you were in the library," Amelia reminded after she herself thought over the last statements the pair had made.

"That's because my library is now ruined as well because the swimming pool is inside it," Renata folded her arms again.

"Are you police?"

That question was enough to reel the pair in. They stared at the little girl who shifted on her feet, anxiously waiting for their answer.

"Why? Did you call the police?" the Doctor asked her.

"Not exactly, but I did want help. Did you come about the crack in my wall?"

"A crack?" Renata repeated, giving the girl a strange look for her question when suddenly the Doctor yelped in pain, falling to the ground.

"Agh!" the Doctor pulled himself up but was only able to kneel in the meantime.

Renata was at his side in a second, trying to ease his lingering pain. "You haven't regenerated properly thanks to the little old flight we had."

"Are you all right, mister?" Amelia asked, staying right where she was. Usually adults didn't want kids around when one of them was sick. Plus, the dark haired woman seemed to be on it.

"No, I'm fine, it's OK. This is all perfectly norm…" the Doctor trailed off and had the urge to open his mouth. When he did, regeneration energy drifted out.

Renata sighed. "Yup, definitely wrong. You'll need to rest."

"Did you?" the Doctor asked. By his calculations, it'd been about two days since she regenerated and he didn't see her taking a rest. She rolled her eyes at his weak attempt to argue.

"Who are you?" Amelia couldn't help herself from asking. They were so strange, especially the man.

"By the time we finish explaining, you'd be an adult," Renata offered the girl a soft smile.

"And to be fair, I'm still cooking," the Doctor was proud to announce. That was the one good thing he could remember from each regeneration: the thought of who this incarnation would turn out to be. What would he like? What wouldn't he like? What would his personality be like?

"Are you afraid?" Renata asked the child.

"No, it just looks a bit weird…" Amelia's gaze lingered on the Doctor as if he would release more energy.

"Well, that's good to hear, but I was talking about the crack you mentioned."

The answer was evident before Amelia even answered. She looked over her shoulder up to her bedroom. "Yes."

The Doctor jumped from the ground, missing Renata worriedly trying to stop him from doing anything else. "Well, then, no time to lose. I'm the Doctor, this is Renata. Do everything we tell you, don't ask stupid questions and don't wander off."

"Doctor…" Renata tried stopping him again but she was too late. He'd walked straight into a tree. She gasped at the terrible smack she heard. That's the last thing he needed!

The Doctor had fallen to the ground on his back, a terrible headache soon to come. When he opened his eyes, he saw Renata already with him while Amelia stood behind his head. "Early days. Steering's a bit off," he excused himself but winced with Renata's scoff.

"Think it's more than just early days," she mumbled as she helped him stand up. Though before she completely let him go, she grabbed his head and pulled him closer to inspect any scratches or cuts on his face. She ignored - or rather did her best to ignore - the Doctor's following eyes on her.

"What's your verdict, my nurse?" he asked her quietly.

She blushed and let him go. "You're fine. But do me a favor and try not to crash into anything else. I will need you when I go back for Gabriella. Don't want to explain to her how you died once more by running into a door."

The Doctor grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

~0~

Amelia had brought the pair into her house, an action that Renata wasn't sure how to feel about. Did nobody teach this child never let strangers into her house? Amelia came into the kitchen with two towels for them to dry up. Renata gratefully took hers while the Doctor practically snatched his distractedly. He was busy studying the solitary kitchen.

"If you're a doctor, why does your box say "Police"?" Amelia asked him before glancing at Renata. "Are you a policewoman?"

"More like his caretaker," Renata dried her hair and flashed a smirk at the frowning Doctor.

"Lies," he promptly said. "Where's my apple?"

Amelia went off to the fridge and hid her smile when Renata scolded him for not saying 'please'. She came back with an apple in hand but once the Doctor took only one bite, he spit out in disgust.

"That's disgusting. What is that?" he wiped the lingering remains off apple from his lips.

Renata was frowning at him for that bit. "You've been asking nonstop for an apple - what do you think she gave you?"

The Doctor heard her, he did, but he also heard his taste buds and they did not approve. "Apples are rubbish. I hate apples."

Amelia could not understand how easily he could change his mind. "You said you loved them."

"No, no, I love yogurt! Yogurt's my favorite. Give me yogurt!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together at the thought of creamy yogurt.

Beside him, Renata watched Amelia run back to the fridge to get the yogurt. Just like before, Amelia returned with what the Doctor asked.

"Thank you," Renata was about to take the container so Amelia could get a cup but neither ever got the chance. The Doctor snatched the container from Amelia's hand and ripped the container off to pour a massive amount into his mouth.

Renata gaped that it almost looked like her mouth would hit the floor. "Doctor!"

The Doctor spit the yogurt out as well. "Ugh! I hate yogurt, it's just stuff with bits in!"

"You said it was your favorite!" Amelia frowned. Some of the yogurt was on her wellies!

"Doctor, you are being very rude right now!" Renata was so close to smacking him. This was too much, even for him!

"What? New mouth, new rules!" He sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Renata shuddered.

Amelia chuckled. Renata looked incredibly funny right now.

"It's like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wro—agh!" the Doctor insisted but Renata grabbed him by the tie of his shirt and pulled him up to her.

"Stop making up stupid excuses and—" But the Doctor had another fit, ending whatever threat she'd been about to make. Renata let him go with a gasp. "Are you okay!?"

"What's wrong with him?" Amelia watched Renata lean the Doctor against the cabinets behind them. One moment he was arguing and the next he was sick? That didn't make sense.

"Oh, he, uh, just has—" Renata meant to construct a good reason that wouldn't scare Amelia off, but the Doctor had a very different idea in mind.

"Wrong with me? It's not my fault!" the Doctor exclaimed as he got off the wall. "Why can't you give me decent food? You're Scottish - fry something!"

"Doctor!" Renata scolded him while Amelia once again went to the fridge. "You don't have to, sweetheart!" she quickly told the girl but she was already pulling out a pan.

Amelia was a quick cook and in five minutes she presented the Doctor with two strips of bacon.

"Ah! Bacon!" the Doctor, to his credit, did look excited about this one.

However Renata wasn't very fond of the scent she got from it. I guess this incarnation won't like bacon, she concluded.

The Doctor agreed. He took one bite from a strip and spit it right out. "That's bacon. Are you trying to poison me?" he shot an accusing look at Amelia.

This time the girl took it a challenge. There had to be something this man would like and she would find out.

Meanwhile, Renata was close to steaming. "You are being incredibly rude!" she hissed at the Doctor as Amelia brought baked beans to them. "She's a child making food for you!"

"Well let's see if this is it!" the Doctor said. "Plus, you need to eat as well. When's the last time you ate since you regenerated?"

Renata rolled her eyes. Truth be told she didn't remember when she last ate. Things had escalated pretty fast after returning to Earth and finding the Master.

"Ah, you see, beans!" the Doctor happily exclaimed when Amelia came around with a plate. He took a spoonful of it and immediately decided she'd gotten it wrong again. He spit it back out on the plate and marched to the sink to throw it all away. "Beans are evil. Bad, bad beans!"

Amelia made a face and glanced at Renata. "What does he like?"

"At this point...not living!" Because with the glare she had on the Doctor, he might have just met his end.

Amelia sucked in a sharp breath and marched towards the cabinet. Her next attempt was simple. Maybe he was a simple man who liked simple food.

"Bread and butter. Now you're talking!" the Doctor rubbed his hands together as he prepared to eat.

This time, he thought it was so bad that the contents shouldn't even stay inside the house. He stormed towards the backdoor and threw the plate out. "And stay out!" he yelled as if it would really come back.

Amelia was frowning by this point.

"You are about to die again," Renata warned him when he returned. "She's done making food for you!"

"I just need something!" the Doctor argued as he went for the fridge.

Amelia followed him, offering other things she had in the fridge. "We've got some carrots?"

The Doctor scoffed. "Carrots? Are you insane? No, wait, hang on!" He flung open the freezer and searched through the contents. "I know what I need. I need... I need... I need…" He concluded that he needed two items that, if it wasn't for him, would never see each other. "Fish fingers and custard."

Both Renata and Amelia crinkled their noses with disgust. The Doctor happily went ahead with his odd creation.

"This time I get to make dinner for you," he proudly said to Renata when they sat down.

Renata tried her best not to look so disgusted at the bright yellow liquid inside the bowl. "Um...thanks?" Part of her laughed because he was actually trying to make dinner for her, but he'd chosen such a wrong combination. "You're so proud, aren't you?"

The Doctor dipped his fish finger into the bowl, eyes practically dazzling as he saw the gooey custard spill back into the bowl. He took a big bite and hummed with approval. "Good!"

Amelia chuckled from her spot. She'd chosen ice cream as her midnight meal.

"Oh, you are leaving quite an impression," Renata propped an elbow on the table to rest her cheek against her hand. The Doctor smiled proudly. He thought he was making a good one.

"Have some," he picked up a fish finger for her.

"Look Doctor, I appreciate your intention but...that does not look appetizing," Renata chuckled at it.

"But it's good!"

"Fish fingers and custard? I don't think so," Renata playfully rolled her eyes. The Doctor dipped the fish finger into the custard bowl as she went on. "I think I'll just grab an apple or something but you will not have me trying—" the Doctor had popped a fish finger into her mouth. Her eyes widened in alarm, quickly flashing anger at him. "Doc…"

"Ah! Chew!" the Doctor pointed at her with a wagging finger. "You always say you chew your food and swallow before talking at the table."

"That's what aunt Sharon says," Amelia said.

"See, Renata is very fond of routines and rules so I hope she wouldn't break them because it's her," the Doctor set a very smug smile on the Time Lady.

She returned the gesture with a sarcastic smile, but she started to chew to get rid of the foul combination. And then suddenly...she cocked her head and began chewing slower. When it came time to swallow, it wasn't forced at all.

"Well?" the Doctor asked, even though he had already assumed her opinion changed on the meal.

"Uuh...that was...that was actually kind of good," Renata said slowly as she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact. "That can't be right. It shouldn't work!"

"The oddest things sometimes work," the Doctor reached over with a thumb to clear off a lingering spot of custard on her lips. "Sound familiar?"

Renata blushed. "You think you're so smart, don't you?"

"I like to think I'm a genius," the Doctor said as he returned to his bowl.

"You are so modest," Renata sighed and reached for another fish finger, completely ignoring the Doctor's smug smile widening. She wouldn't hear the end of this one, she knew! She checked on the little girl who, up until now, hadn't shown any trauma from everything they'd put her through. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked when she realized they hadn't even asked her yet. They were there, sitting at her table, eating her food, and they didn't even bother asking her what her name was!

"Amelia Pond," the girl said.

"Ah, that's a brilliant name. Amelia Pond, like a name in a fairy tale," the Doctor said, making the girl smile a bit wider. Everyone always seemed to pick on her for her odd name, but what could she do about it?

"Are we in Scotland, Amelia?" Renata asked. She didn't even know where they were because of the TARDIS' crashing.

"No. We had to move to England. It's rubbish," Amelia crinkled her nose as if she'd only just moved in yesterday.

"So what about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs?" the Doctor leaned a bit in his chair to catch sight of the stairs. Up until now, no one had come down to check on them. "Thought we'd have woken them by now."

"Oh, what would make you think that?" Renata sarcastically asked him. "You screaming at a plate of beans? Or how about the big old box crashing in the garden?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, we'll fix that for them."

"The least we could do," Renata mumbled.

"I don't actually have a mum and dad. Just an aunt," Amelia answered when she thought they were done bickering again.

"We don't even have an aunt," the Doctor said, giving her a wink.

"You're lucky!"

Renata gave an odd look at the girl. "Why would you say something like that? Is your aunt not nice?"

Amelia didn't answer right away, but Renata could tell the girl was upset by something. "She's nice, but...she's not here, is she?"

Renata hummed as she looked around. "Right. Of course she wouldn't be here. She really leaves you alone?"

"I'm not scared," Amelia raised her head up high, making the pair of Time Lords smile.

"Ooh, we know," the Doctor said. "You're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man and woman fall out of box, man and woman eat fish custard, and look at you, just sitting there. So you know what I think?"

"What?"

"Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall."

Renata agreed with a silent nod. And if she was guessing, Amelia must have told her aunt about this crack but the aunt hadn't listened. Amelia must be terrified and yet the aunt still left her alone!?

~ 0 ~

Amelia brought the Doctor up to her bedroom when they were done with dinner. Renata had insisted on washing everything before she could join them. How could they have dinner in someone else's home and not clean up after themselves? So, the Doctor began examining the crack on the wall by himself. At first glance, it did look like any ordinary crack. He might have even turned away if he'd only looked at it for a few seconds.

"You've had some cowboys in here. Not actual cowboys, though that can happen," he murmured as he worked along the crack.

"How are we doing?" Renata walked in a few minutes later and dropped an apple into Amelia's hand. "No seven year old should have ice cream at midnight. Have one."

Amelia scrunched her face at the apple she now held, though she did smile when she saw a carving of a butterfly on it. "How'd you do that?"

Renata smiled secretively as she bent down in front of the girl. "You want to know a secret? I'm like the Mother of butterflies." She turned her palm around and let golden energy rise from her skin, gently swirling until they formed miniature butterflies."

Amelia's green eyes expanded to the point of bulging from her head. She was enchanted with the butterflies flying around her. "That's so cool!"

Renata chuckled. "You think so? You want to know another secret?" Amelia nodded excitedly. Renata leaned a little closer and whispered, "I just learned how to do that downstairs."

The Doctor looked from the crack to see the sight. He smiled softly at the two. Renata was just so good with children, with people in general, that it seemed like no matter what incarnation she was in, this was a part of her core personality.

Renata straightened up on her feet and turned to the Doctor, catching him in his act of staring. She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning why he was wasting time, but he just continued to smile at her. Before she could blush again - she was beginning to think that this body would be doing that a lot easier now - Renata cleared her throat and walked up to the wall. "So, have we got anything on this menacing crack?"

"Uh, sort of…" the Doctor gave the crack all of his attention now. "This wall is solid and the crack doesn't go all the way through it. So here's a thing - where's the drought coming from?"

"Let's find out," Renata reached for her sonic screwdriver in her dress' pocket and aimed it at the wall. The Doctor took the chance to scoot closer to her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder while she took in the readings. Renata concentrated really hard on the sonic and not the sensation she was feeling from his closeness. "Interesting…"

"What?" Amelia wanted to get closer but she still was kind of afraid of the crack.

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey!" the Doctor thought that was the perfect explanation. He moved away from Renata and stopped at the start of the crack. "You know what the crack is? It's a crack, clearly." He began to run his fingers along the crack, bringing him back to where Renata stood. "I'll tell you something funny. If you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, 'cos the crack isn't in the wall."

"Where is it, then?" Amelia made a face. Half of his words weren't making sense, but she was pretty sure that the thing on her wall looked like a crack.

"It's everywhere," Renata said quietly, her face growing more grim by the second. "In everything. It's a split in the skin of the world. And that is not right. Two parts of space and time that should never have touched, pressed together...right here in the wall of your bedroom. How could that happen?" she glanced at the Doctor for some ideas, not that she didn't have her own.

Her first assumption was that this was a direct consequence of the Master and the Time Lords breaking out of the Time Lock. There was too much tampering with that time period, from both sides, that perhaps Time itself finally had enough.

"Sometimes, can you hear…" the Doctor actually meant to think this but since he said out loud, Amelia quickly jumped in with the answer.

"A voice!? Yes!"

Both aliens paused to look back at the anxious girl. It was clear that she'd been waiting for somebody to believe her.

The Doctor reached for a glass of water on the nightstand. He chucked the water to the side and pressed its rim against the wall. Soon as he put his ear against the end of the glass, he heard an echoing voice on the other side.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped'

The Doctor stepped away, nose crinkling as he repeated what he heard. "Prisoner Zero?"

Amelia once again jumped in. "Prisoner Zero has escaped. That's what I heard!" She wasn't the only one hearing the voices now! If they believed it then it meant things would finally get fixed. "What does it mean?"

"Be subtle," Renata whispered to the Doctor. This was still a child they were dealing with and they shouldn't terrify her.

Of course that's what Renata thought, because despite her warning the Doctor still went ahead and answered with the blunt truth. "It means that, on the other side of this wall, there's a prison and they've lost a prisoner." Renata rubbed her forehead wearily. So that incarnation also had a loud mouth. Great. "You might need a better wall," the Doctor concluded as he went for the desk nearby. He pulled it away so that the wall was free of any furniture. "The only way to close the breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert and it'll snap itself shut. Or…" Renata once again made an attempt to remind him Amelia was still a child. This time it seemed like he got it. "You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?"

"Yes," Amelia nodded with a roll of her eyes. That was so annoying.

"Everything's going to be fine."

Amelia's face fell flat.

Renata shut her eyes for a moment, wondering which one of his lines was worse.

"Renée?" the Doctor called to her, in the process letting it be known that he would still be using that nickname for her as well. He was holding his hand out for her.

"Yeah, alright," the Time Lady moved up beside him and took his hand. Funny, it seemed to slip in so easily with his. Renata then glanced back to where Amelia stood and did the same like the Doctor. "Amelia?"

The girl grinned when Renata offered her other hand to her. She moved around the bed and took Renata's hand.

"Alright then, let's get this big, bad wall shut!" the Doctor held his sonic to the crack.

Amelia turned her head at the sonic when it started making that whirring noise. Renata's sonic hadn't made that noise, she wondered why the Doctor's did. Amelia soon forgot about that detail when a bright light started shining through the crack. It was opening! While Amelia shielded her eyes, Renata squinted hers to see prison cells on the other side. Her hand squeezed Amelia's when she realized that the child had been sleeping next to a prison, an alien prison.

'Prisoner Zero has escaped,' a voice announced on a loop. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.'

The Doctor took a step towards the crack, hoping to end things without much trouble. "Hello?" At the second call, a giant blue eye surprised him and the others.

"What's that?" Amelia frowned at the creature. It kept swiveling its eyeball at them.

Before either Time Lord answered, a ball of light shot out from the crack and struck the Doctor. He landed against the bed just as the crack sealed up.

"Doctor, are you alright!?" Renata let go of Amelia's hand - though she ushered the girl away from the crack - and rushed to the Doctor.

He was getting back on his feet with a bit of struggle. The regeneration was still going. "There. You see, told you it would close. Good as new."

Amelia wasn't sure if she was supposed to be relieved or scared. But at least the crack was gone. "What was that thing? Was that Prisoner Zero?"

"No. I think that was Prisoner Zero's guard. Whatever it was, it sent me a message." The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper from his pant's pocket. "Psychic paper, takes a lovely little message. 'Prisoner Zero has escaped.' But why tell us?"

Renata dreaded the answer as she glanced back at the wall. "Because maybe this is where he escaped through…" If the crack truly was what they thought it was, then this was a weak point in Time. Anything could get through if it tried.

"But he couldn't have. We'd know!" the Doctor argued initially. They would have noticed something like that.

"No, we wouldn't," Renata said calmly to him. "It's like you said. I just regenerated 2 days ago and I haven't slept or ate since before and you just regenerated an hour ago. We're not functioning the right way."

The Doctor would concede with that point, several points. "Brand-new me, nothing works yet," he mumbled with annoyance as he headed out of the room. "Still, I feel like there's something I'm missing…" he stopped by the staircase banister and thought, "...in the corner...of my eye." He and Renata jumped at the sound of the cloister bell ringing.

"Oh, great," Renata sighed while the Doctor broke into a race for the TARDIS. She and Amelia hurried after him into the backyard.

"We've got to get back in there!" The Doctor exclaimed as he came up to the TARDIS. "The engines are phasing, it's going to burn!"

Amelia couldn't quite see that happening since it was just a box. "But... it's just a box! How can a box have engines?"

The Doctor struggled to free the grappling hook while Renata hurried to gather the rope around them. "That's because it's not a box. It's a time machine, sweetheart," Renata explained as she returned to the Doctor's side with the role in her arms.

Amelia blinked at her then checked the box again. "What, a real one? You've got a real time machine?"

"It's his, not mine," Renata gave a nod at the Doctor. "Mine wouldn't have landed like this."

"Oh!" the Doctor stopped working altogether to frown at Renata. "It's not like I planned this! I didn't see you doing a better job!"

"What!?" Renata dropped the rope with an indignant cry. "Your spasm of regeneration didn't exactly give me the time! Honestly, I have never seen a messier regeneration!"

Amelia's head once again turned from Renata to the Doctor as each of them took their turn responding to the other's comment. She smiled, though, when Renata sprouted golden butterfly wings. It definitely halted the argument.

"So...that's a thing now?" the Doctor was just as surprised as Amelia. He eyed the admittedly beautiful golden butterfly wings that were made out of pure Vortex and Osiran power. To Amelia, it looked more like fairy dust (Renata just needed to be blonde to be like Tinkerbell!). Bright, golden sparkle dust!

Renata was mortified to see them back. She looked over her shoulder with a loud groan. "Go away!" She shouted at them as if they actually had ears.

The Doctor chuckled at her. "C'mon my beautiful butterfly," he tugged her towards him by the hand. "We really have to get the TARDIS stabilized. I think a 5 minute hop into the future should do it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Renata forgot about the silky argument and gathered up the rope she let fall.

Amelia watched the two work together like they hadn't been arguing a minute ago. It was rather funny. They were funny. Nothing around her was ever funny. She always spent most of her time alone. Who could she be funny with? Definitely not aunt Sharon. "Can I come?" she asked the two after they'd looped the rope through the door handle.

"Not safe in here, not yet," the Doctor told her, making her hopeful smile falter.

Renata walked over to the girl with a soft smile. "Listen, it'll just be 5 minutes and then we'll be back, right Doctor?"

"Absolutely!" he gave a thumbs up in the air.

"People always say that," Amelia frowned.

The Doctor walked over as well and looked her in the eyes. "Am I people? Do I even look like people? Trust me, I'm the Doctor. And, if you want extra assurance, that's why I have Renata."

Amelia's hope returned. "Really?"

"Have you ever seen a star in outer space?" Renata asked her and couldn't help chuckle at Amelia's widened eyes. She really did have big eyes. "Start picking a constellation. We'll work out permission with your aunt after." She had quite a few words to exchange with that Aunt of hers who just left her on her own.

The Doctor led Renata back to the TARDIS. They climbed over the edge again and, with one last look at Amelia, they jumped inside.

"Geronimo!" Amelia heard the Doctor's scream before the TARDIS doors closed. A few seconds later, the box disappeared into thin air.

Amelia continued to grin and hope for their return as she ran back home to collect her things. She had no idea what she would need to see a star in outer space but she would be very prepared!

~0~

The TARDIS returned to the same spot as before, but its inhabitants wouldn't notice straightaway something truly important. Renata came out of the TARDIS first - shoved out by the Doctor - coughing from the smoke billowing out of the box.

"We've got to let her repair!" Renata said in the midst of her coughing. The Doctor could only nod for a moment as he got over his coughing. "It's day time…" Renata realized as she looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Oh my God...it's day time! We told her 5 minutes — Amelia!" She raced into the house with the Doctor right behind her.

They hollered for Amelia to get out of the house. For this one moment, Renata would forget her rules about breaking in for the sake of Amelia's well being. They went directly to the one door they couldn't catch before but this time the sonic wasn't working.

"Is she at school!?" Renata tried to guess with the most logical idea. If it were that then at least she would be safe.

The Doctor struggled with the door but stopped when he heard a loud smack behind. He spun around and barely got a second to see Renata on the floor before he too was whacked across the head.

The next time they came to, the pair found themselves handcuffed to a radiator. A female police officer in a short skirt stood off to the side, speaking into her radio.

"White male and female, mid-20s, breaking and entering. Send me some back-up, I've got them restrained." The woman shot the pair a glare. "Oi, you! Sit still."

"Cricket bat. I'm getting cricket bat!" the Doctor felt the throb where the bat had hit him, but he was more angry at the fact Renata had also gotten the hit.

"Call me crazy but I think…" Renata paused to scrunch her face at the lingering pain she felt on the back of her head, "I think that was some uncalled police brutality." She tried moving her hand and found she was handcuffed to the same handcuff the Doctor was. "Oh, really?"

The Doctor nodded over at the policewoman. "I don't carry handcuffs, love!"

"You were breaking and entering," the policewoman said in a manner that would leave clear she used the appropriate amount of force against them.

Renata gasped with offence. "I have never broken into a place! Usually he—" she pointed at the Doctor with her free hand, "—is the one that drags me into it! My record with the authorities is clean!"

The Doctor stared at her with a flat expression. "Thanks, dear. Really appreciate your defense right now." His voice suddenly turned into a shout that startled the police woman but not Renata. "I literally died 2 hours ago and some woman just hit me with a cricket bat! You're not even going to mention that fact!?"

"What do you want me to do about it!? Kiss it and make it better!?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to snap when he suddenly tilted his head with consideration of the proposal. "Actually yes, that would make it so much better." Renata rolled her eyes but she turned her head away to hide her smile.

The police woman banged a hand against the staircase banister to get their attention back. "Do you want to shut up now? I've got back-up on the way! You both broke in!"

"But what are you doing here? Where's Amelia?" the Doctor asked, or rather demanded. He doubted this was the aunt Sharon that Amelia mentioned.

The police woman tilted her head at them. "Amelia Pond?"

"Adorable little Scottish girl," Renata said. "Where is she? We promised her five minutes but the engines were phasing." She craned her head up at the window where the sun was shining was through. "I suppose we must have gone a bit far. Perhaps a day? Has something happened to her?"

The officer folded her arms, seeming like she was enjoying their momentary panic. "Amelia Pond hasn't lived here in a long time."

"How long?" the Doctor dared to ask. Renata had assumed they'd been late by a day but if turned out to be more, he wasn't sure Renata could take it.

"Six months."

Renata gasped. "No, no, no! We can't be six months late! We said five minutes. We promised!"

The police woman turned away with zero interest in their guilt.

"What happened to her? What happened to Amelia Pond?" the Doctor now demanded from her.

"Sarge, it's me again," the police woman spoke in a hurried, hushed tone into her radio "Hurry it up, this guy knows something about Amelia Pond."

"What!?" Renata fully panicked now. Why would the police woman say something like that? Had something happened to Amelia!? What if she got hurt while waiting for them to come back!? Had she wandered off into the streets on her own to search for them!?

"Renée? Calm down," the Doctor struggled to move his cuffed hand closer to hers. He could see her beginning to panic and he wanted nothing more than to ease her. His free hand was the one to finally touch her face. "This face will be easier to read." He noted her widened eyes and the way her light skin paled up a bit.

"We told her 5 minutes and now something might have happened to her," Renata whispered. She directed her eyes to the police woman. "Please, you have to tell us what happened to Amelia? Is she missing?"

The police woman seemed to shift under those soft eyes of Renata. The Time Lady was so concerned, her voice cracking as if tears would roll down her face anytime soon. "Well…"

"Look, we need to speak to whoever lives in this house now," the Doctor cut in sharply. "And I'd like some information on Amelia Pond as well."

"I live here," the police woman snapped.

"But you're the police!"

"Yes, and this is where I live. You got a problem with that?!"

"I've got a problem with the fact you're keeping your mouth shut about Amelia!" snapped Renata. "So here's a little something for you, dear, how many rooms you got in this house?"

The police woman rolled her eyes. They were just trying to have her, weren't they?

"How many rooms?" Renata repeated the question, her tone growing harder by the second. "On this floor. How many rooms on this floor? Can you count them for us?"

"Why?"

"Because it will change your life," the Doctor left it at that. She didn't know what was living next door to her and once she realized it, she'd be in for the shock of her lives.

The woman decided to humor them. So she turned around and started counting the doors. "Five. One, two, three, four, five."

"Wrong," snapped Renata, making the police woman flinch. She sounded like a teacher.

"Six," the Doctor said, softer than Renata but it wasn't like he didn't understand her current feelings.

"Six?" the woman shook her head. "What do you take me-"

"Just look!" Renata insisted.

"Look where?"

"Exactly where you don't want to look," the Doctor told her, nodding at something behind her. "Where you never want to look, the corner of your eye. Look behind you."

The police woman sighed and turned where he was pointing to. She was about to chalk them off as crazy when she finally realized they were right. There was a door right there. "That's...that is not possible. How's that possible?"

"There's a perception filter round the door," the Doctor began to explain. "Sensed it the last time I was here. Should've seen it."

"But that's a whole room. That's a whole room I've never even noticed."

"That's because the filter stops you," Renata told her. "Something came a while ago to hide. It's still hiding. You need to uncuff us now!" She yanked on the handcuffs, hissing each time the metal dug into her skin.

"I don't have the key. I lost it." Because she was walking towards the door, she missed Renata's and the Doctor's dumbfounded faces.

"How can you have lost it?!" Renata shouted in outrage. She yanked on the handcuffs again, ignoring the Doctor's cry for her to stop doing that.

"Hey you! Stay away from that door!" the Doctor shouted at the police woman who was just going straight for it. "Do not touch that door! Listen to me! Do not open that-" the woman turned the knob and effectively opened the door. "Why does no one ever listen to me? Do I just have a face that nobody listens to?" He met Renata's gaze and saw her teasing smile. "Again?" he asked, disheartened over the problem repeating itself in a brand new incarnation.

Renata laughed. "I think that's just part of your personality, my dear."

The Doctor would've smiled more if he hadn't remembered the police woman wandering into the forbidden room at the end of the hallway. "Hey!"

"Sonic!" Renata exclaimed. "Mine must have dropped with that tumultuous TARDIS trip!"

The Doctor came up short with his own sonic. "My screwdriver, where is it?"

"Oh, great!" Renata rolled her eyes. Maybe her luck was beginning to change into something similar as his. That wasn't good at all!

"Silver thing, blue at the end. Where did it go?" the Doctor continued searching his pockets to no avail.

"There's nothing here!" the police woman called from inside the room.

"And who told you that it would let you see it!?" Renata snapped. She tried turning her body to where she would be able to see a bit into the room, but the only thing she did was lean on the Doctor too close.

"Seriously, you could keep doing that," he wasn't at all shy to say.

Renata paused to give him a sharp look. "Well, this new you certainly has no problem flirting."

"I said I learned my lesson last time," he said, referring to his last words before regenerating. He was done wasting time with Renata and because he knew how shy she was, he would be the bold one (not that he ever had a problem with that). He would be the one to flirt with her, do the touching until she learned how to come out of her shell - or cocoon, given her butterfly abilities - and do the same. Renata was too used to hiding herself, hiding her feelings and not expressing how she felt at moments. It was the way she was raised on Gallifrey and after 11 regenerations, it would be a hard habit to break, but not impossible.

"You said silver, blue at the end?" the police woman's call cut into the pair's moment. They looked at the open doorway and saw she was way too inside.

"My screwdriver, yeah…" the Doctor said slowly.

"It's here!"

"Must have rolled under the door," Renata reasoned but the police woman said a very interesting response.

"Yeah. Must have," the policewoman said. "And then it must have jumped up on the table…"

"Get out of there!" the Doctor yelled frantically.

Renata started yanking on the cuffs again. That policewoman really was naive to think she was safe and sound in that room. She frantically pulled and pulled, feeling desperate as the Doctor vainlessly called to the woman to get out. Suddenly, her golden energy tangled around the cuffs, snapping them in two. "Ha!" Renata laughed, totally surprised but loving the fact she could do that. The Doctor was stunned but he would take whatever worked right now. Without thinking, she grabbed the cuff still around the Doctor's wrist and watched as once more the energy wrapped around it to break it.

"Loving it!" the Doctor exclaimed and scrambled up to his feet. Just as he helped Renata up, they heard the police woman scream from the room.

The police woman ran out of the room, terrified by whatever she saw in there. The Doctor marched over the rest of the space between them and snatched his sonic from her. "Give me that!" He used it to lock the bedroom door.

"Will that door hold it?" the police woman asked them, still slightly out of breath from bolting. The creature had stared her in the face!

"Oh, yeah, yeah, course! It's an inter-dimensional multi-form from outer-space - they're all terrified of wood!" the Doctor sarcastically snapped.

A bright light flashed around the edges of the door.

"What's that? What's it doing?"

"It doesn't matter, just go!" Renata ushered the woman towards the staircase. "Your back-up's coming, we'll be fine."

The woman spun around, forcing Renata back. "There is no back-up!"

"What? But we heard you on the radio, you called for back-up!"

"I was pretending. It's a pretend radio!"

"What!? Impersonating a police woman is a crime!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm a kissogram!" she pulled her hat off and revealed her bright ginger hair that fell over one shoulder.

Renata was stunned but then a new thought popped in. "What's a kissogram?"

At that moment, the door of the room fell down to reveal a man in blue overalls holding a leash to a very large Rottweiler.

The ginger woman blinked at them. She had no idea how those two got into her room, but they at least seemed harmless. "But it's just…"

"No, it isn't. Look at the faces," the Doctor knew what the woman had been thinking and urged her to pay better attention.

The man was growling and barking instead of the dog.

The woman couldn't take it. "What? I'm sorry, but what!?"

"It's all one creature. One creature disguised as two! Now you really must go!" Renata tried turning the woman away, missing the way the man and the dog turned their head at them.

"Are you kidding!? I'm not leaving that there! In my house!"

"I am curious how it's pulling that psychic link if it needs a live feed," the Doctor admitted while he continued to study the man and dog. "How did you fix that?" He got a snarl as a response, followed by a threatening step towards them.

Renata yanked him back. "Please don't question the enemy when it can kill us! Am I also going to have to constantly repeat that in this regeneration!?"

"Well, I won't lie…" the Doctor swayed his head, figuring this was just another core personality trait for him.

'Attention, Prisoner Zero. The human residence is surrounded. Attention Prisoner Zero. 'The human residence is surrounded.'

The ginger woman's eyes widened in alarm. She spun around trying to find the source of the voice until Renata stopped her. Good thing she did because the woman was near dizzy. "What's that?"

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

"Okay, now we run!" the Doctor ushered Renata and the woman down the stairs. He used the sonic to lock the house door, hoping that would buy them some time.

Renata studied the woman while the Doctor made sure the door was actually locked. His sonic was acting a bit wonky. "Seriously, what's a kissogram?" She eyed the odd uniform, bobbing her head side to side. "And does it always involve short skirts?"

The ginger woman gave her a look. "Seriously?"

Renata innocently shrugged. She had only lived on Earth from 1913 to 1969 and the one year in the modern world that she spent with the Master against her will — she was mostly locked away. She didn't have a lot of time to truly get to know the humans in modern times.

"I go to parties and kiss people!"

Renata cocked her head to one side. "And you get paid for that?"

"Yes!"

Renata considered what that must be like and she soon crinkled her nose when she decided that would not be a job she would be interested in. "And the costume is from these parties?"

"You broke into my house! It was this or a French maid!"

"Makes sense," Renata concluded. The Doctor finally got some handle on the sonic and yanked her and the woman away from the house.

"What's going on? Tell me! Tell me!" the woman rightfully demanded as they crossed the yard towards the TARDIS.

"An alien convict is hiding in your spare room disguised as a man and a dog, and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house. Any questions?"

The woman flipped her head to Renata, but the Time Lady confirmed the story with a nod. "Sort of it, sorry."

The Doctor groaned at the TARDIS who wouldn't open her doors. "No, no, don't do that, not now! It's still rebuilding, not letting us in!"

"Well what'd you expect after the number we put her through?" Renata gave the TARDIS and sympathetic glance. "We'll just have to make do until she's ready."

'Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.'

The Doctor flapped an arm at the house behind them. "We need the TARDIS! How can we stop them if I don't have the TARDIS!?"

"Never stopped you before," Renata smiled at him. The Doctor stopped fussing with the TARDIS to meet her smiling gaze.

The woman groaned at them and grabbed each of the pair's arms. "Come on!"

The Doctor would've let her take them to the street had he not seen the new-looking shed on the side of the garden. "No, wait, hang on, wait, wait, wait. The shed!" he got loose from the woman's hold and rushed up to the shed. Renata blinked at the sight of it as well. "We destroyed that shed last time we were here, smashed it to pieces!"

"So there's a new one. Let's go!" the woman tried pulling Renata with her but now the Time Lady was suspicious as well. She pried the woman's hand off her wrist and studied the shed.

"It might be new but it's also old," Renata said as she noticed the darkened spots of the shed's wood. The Doctor ran a hand down the wood. "It could be—" she stopped mid-word when the Doctor licked his finger to taste the wood. Renata scrunched her face, eyes shutting close. "Doctor—"

"12 years!" the Doctor whirled around with the right answer, stunning Renata in the process. He marched back to them, specifically to the ginger woman. "We're not six months late, we're 12 years late!"

"It's been 12 years," Renata felt her stomach churn wondering how angry little Amelia must have been with them. They broke their promise to her!

Meanwhile, the woman seemed more nervous than a few seconds ago. "He's coming!" she made a nod at the house still in danger of being incinerated.

"You said six months. Why did you say six months?" Renata got right in her face, demanding to hear the truth. She knew that the woman was hiding something. She knew the way people kept secrets because that had been her main job not too long ago.

"We've got to!" the woman insisted but Renata grabbed her arm tightly. The woman knew something about Amelia, what with those big eyes—

"The big eyes…" Renata whispered with her own wide eyes.

The woman only stared at her, mildly confused, but otherwise still nervous. "Look, we've got to go!"

"Not until you tell us!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Why did you say six months?"

The woman's thin eyebrows furrowed together as pain flashed across her face. "Why did you say five minutes?!" she shouted at both of them, pulling her arm out of Renata's hold.

"What?" the Doctor practically froze in his spot, only moving his head to see Renata staring sadly at the woman.

"She has the same big eyes," she told him. "Amelia's big eyes."

The woman, who was indeed Amelia, glared at her. "They are not big! C'mon!" She led the way out of the house, figuring if they wanted to continue with the conversation they would follow her into the street.

"You're Amelia!?" the Doctor was right behind the woman, forcing her to stop just to look at her again.

"You're late!" hissed Amelia and continued to walk.

"You were a little girl," Renata did her best to keep up with Amelia's fast pace. "Amelia Pond!"

"I'm Amelia and you're late!" Amelia hissed directly at Renata's face, eyes blazing with anger. "Five minutes my a—"

"I'm so sorry!" Renata threw her arms around the woman, hugging her tight.

Amelia had been expecting anything but that. Her big, green eyes flickered all around while she awkwardly stood there being hugged. She met the Doctor's gaze who was smiling softly at Renata.

"We didn't mean to be late! I'm never late!" Renata pulled away from Amelia, looking her over one more time. She was a complete adult now! Renata sighed and brought a hand to her forehead, letting her fingers dig through her black hair. "Amelia, I am so sorry. We really did mean to come back but the TARDIS is just…" She trailed off and shook her head, deciding that Amelia probably wasn't interested in excuses. She'd been wronged and she was rightfully upset. "No excuses. We're sorry. I did think of a star for you, though. I thought the Big Dipper might have been good. It's a popular one amongst the humans. I'm sorry."

Amelia arched a confused eyebrow at the Time Lady. She looked so guilty that it made Amelia feel like she was wrong for being so angry. How did Renata make that happen!? She glanced at the Doctor and while he looked pretty guilty himself, it was nothing compared to Renata. She was horrified.

Amelia wondered for the first time in 12 years, who really are these two aliens? She spent all her life imagining them in adventures that now that she had them actually in front of her, she had to rewrite everything she knew about them. Who was the Doctor? And who was Renata?

Author's Note:

And there's our first chapter! I am SUPER excited to move onto this story (I think some of yall may have noticed before). We've already seen a glimpse of what Amy thinks of the Time Lords and how they see her, specifically Renata. Their relationship will be a little more complicated because of Ren's drive to maintain the rules buuuut we'll see how it goes ;)

[nerdypinupcrystal]

Every Breath You Take - Chapter 12: Send Me An Angel

MASTERLIST

I’m back y’all!!! Sorry for the wait, I really would’ve gotten this up sooner, but with finishing classes before spring break and this coronavirus hysteria going on, it’s just been insane! But here I am with chapter 12, quite a bit happens in this one, be prepared for a roller coaster of emotions. There may be tears. Enough of my rambling, onward to the chapter!

Chapter 12: Send Me An Angel

The air was tense with silence as we entered my apartment. Matt lingered in the doorway, hesitant to step inside. 

“Well, come in.” I demanded. 

He let out a sigh and entered further inside, closing the door behind him. I locked the door to ensure our privacy and pulled a couple water bottles out of the fridge. 

I turned to him and saw he still had the black mask on. “Please take off your mask. There’s no point in having it on in front of me anymore.”

Matt reached up with shaky hands to remove the mask, revealing his familiar sweet face that was filled with remorse. 

“Iris-”

“Say it.” I cut him off. 

“What?” He asked, stepping closer yet still keeping a respective distance. 

“Who you are.” I clarified. “I need to hear you say it, so I know this is real. That it’s not just in my mind. Say it.”

He let out an exhale as he handed me his mask.  “I’m Daredevil.”

The tension in the air was so thick and heavy, I had to take a seat on the couch. I held his mask tightly as I looked up at him, he stood still in the same spot. 

“How is that possible?” I asked, scooting back on the couch to make room for him. “You’re blind. How are you able to do all those things when you can’t even see?”

He tentatively walked to the couch, hesitant to sit down. I grabbed his hand and pulled him down to the seat next to me. 

“New couch?” Matt asked as he took off his gloves and felt the soft, unfamiliar material of the seat cushion. 

“Huh? Oh yeah, I redecorated.” I replied, thrown off by the question. 

“I like it.” He gave a soft, sweet smile. 

“Thank you, quit changing the subject.” I replied, getting a little annoyed. “I told you everything about me, Matt. And you know how hard and painful that was for me to do, so please extend me the same courtesy. I deserve that much after what you put me through for the past two weeks.”

Letting out a sigh, Matt turned to me and reached for my hand. “You’re right. And I’m so sorry for putting you through that. I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me the truth about you, and it wasn’t fair to you that I wouldn’t do the same.” 

He cleared his throat before he began. “You remember how I told you I lost my sight?” I nodded and told him yes before he continued. “That chemical did more than take away my sight. It enhanced all of my other senses. My hearing, my sense of touch, taste, it all increased to an extremely high degree. They were so sensitive to the point of it being painful to even hear the sound of footsteps. It was unbearable until I finally got control of it.”

“Are your senses still sensitive?” I asked. 

“Extremely.” He replied. “It’s just less painful now. They help me when I’m out at night. I can hear the cries of someone in distress clear across the other side of the city. I can hear people’s heartbeats and how they change when they lie, or get scared, or...excited. That’s how I knew from the moment we met that you were lying about your name, and that you were scared.”

Oh fuck, that means he definitely heard the things I was saying about him to Lucy when I was drunk. But that’s not important right now, I’ll just cross that bridge when I get there. 

“And the fighting?” I asked. 

“You remember when I told you I lived in an orphanage after my dad died?” He continued when I nodded. “Well not too long after dad died, I met this man. His name was Stick. He was blind. He taught me everything I know. How to control my abilities and use them to my advantage, how to fight. He helped me.”

“What happened to him?” I asked, noticing the emptiness in his voice. 

“He left. He abandoned me.” His voice cracked. “I started getting attached, I saw him as a father figure. He said I was being weak. Emotions and attachments were signs of weakness to him. So I was alone again.”

I reached for his hand, which made him eagerly grasp onto mine. “I’m so sorry, Matt.”

He held up my hand to place a gentle kiss. “I continued training myself as I got older.” He continued. “When I became a lawyer, I saw just how flawed and corrupt the justice system can be. I couldn’t just let crimes go unpunished and not get any justice for the victims. I work for the law, but I decided to take it into my own hands.”

“And Daredevil was born?” I interjected with a slight smirk. 

“I didn’t pick that name, but yeah.” He replied with a chuckle. “So that’s it. Now you know.”

I reached for my water bottle as I processed everything.  “Well...it certainly explains a lot. So I’m guessing part of the reason you disappeared from me for two weeks was because of the cuts and bruises you got from that night?”

He winced. “Part of it, yeah…..”

“What?” I asked, starting to get annoyed again. “What else is there?”

Matt looked guilty as he hesitantly replied. “I had a concussion after all, and I passed out in my apartment-” He was cut off by the sudden splash of water in his face from my now half empty water bottle.  “I deserved that.” 

“You’re damn right you did.” I growled. “I knew I should’ve checked your stupid, stubborn head!” I smacked his shoulder repeatedly. “Anything else? I know it takes around a week to recover from a concussion, but what about week two?”

Matt went silent. His jaw tightened and his sweet, stupid face was stuck in a deep frown. It felt like a minute before he replied. “I was...I was scared. I ran out on our date like an asshole without even thinking about how it would look, or how it would make you feel until it was too late. My mind was clouded with what we were doing, and then I heard someone being attacked, and I just left without a second thought. I didn’t plan on you seeing me like that. I was gonna make my way to Claire’s-”

“Claire knows?!” 

“Shit.” He muttered. “Yeah...I kinda fell into her care the same way I fell into yours. I had put her in harm’s way just for helping me, I almost got her killed. You just got out of a horrible situation, I would never forgive myself if I put you in another one. So I tried to stay away and just make sure you were safe from a distance. I kept telling myself it was for the best, that you would be safer not being with me. But I realized that I was hurting you already. I didn’t know how to face you after everything. But Iris, I lo-I care about you too much, and I want so much to be with you. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for doing this to you. I never meant to hurt you. I hate myself for keeping all this from you, but this is who I am. And it’s okay if you hate me. I would understand completely.”

I sat in silence, digesting everything Matt just told me. I looked at his beautiful face, he looked so drained and forlorn. Like he expected me to never want to see him again, to hate him. 

“I don’t hate you.” I finally spoke. 

Matt sharply turned to face me, his brown eyes widened. “You don’t? Why not? I deserve it.”

I grabbed his hand. “Matt, I faked my own death and changed my identity to get out of my abusive marriage. I’m the last person who should judge you for keeping a secret like this. I meant everything I said that night. You are a good man, and I support what you’re doing; as long as you don’t get yourself killed and take care of yourself.”

Matt’s body relaxed as he let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you, Ir-”

He was cut off once again with a sudden splash of water in his face. 

“But I’m still pissed at you for the disappearing act you pulled on me for two weeks!” I growled through gritted teeth as I hit him with the now empty water bottle  Matt just sat there and took it. “I was so depressed, and you made me insecure thinking that I drove you away! I was fucking miserable, you asshole!”

He quickly pulled me into his arms. “I know, I’m so sorry!” His voice cracked. “Iris, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re right, I am an asshole. I was so fucking stupid, and I will to whatever it takes for however long it takes to make it up to you, I swear to God.”

I hugged him back tightly as tears ran down my cheeks. He rubbed my back and kissed my head while saying “I’m sorry” repeatedly. I lost track of how long we sat there in each other’s arms, but we sat like that until my breathing slowed down and my tears finally ceased. 

I pulled away slightly to look at him. “Who else knows? You said Claire knows, right?” He nodded. “So who else?”

He cleared his throat before replying. “Foggy….”

I noticed the hesitation as he trailed off. “And?”

He looked at me guiltily. “And Lucy.”

“What?!” She knew this the whole time?! And she let me say all of that embarrassing shit that night knowing he was listening! “I’m gonna kill her.”

“It’s not her fault,” Matt replied, trying to ease my anger. “I didn’t even want her to know, but Foggy decided to tell her. I made her promise not to say anything.”

I took deep breaths to calm myself. “Okay, I guess that makes sense. But I’m still mad at her. She is so gonna hear it from me at work on Monday.”

“I’m sorry Iris. I really didn’t mean to cause you more pain.” Matt spoke softly as he held my hand. 

I looked at his sweet face once more. “I understand why you didn’t wanna tell me, Matt. Your tactic was terrible though. It’s just gonna take a while for me to forgive you for that.”

Matt’s eyes widened as if he was hit with an idea. “If you give me this one chance to do so, I think I know how to make it up to you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What do you have in mind?”

---------------------------------

The Next Day

“I don’t know about this, Matt. What if someone sees me?” I shifted nervously on my feet as I kept checking my surroundings. 

Matt gently held me by my shoulders to face him. “Iris, I promise you, it’s gonna be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you. You just stay hidden behind the bushes, and I’ll help you get inside when I know the coast is clear, okay?”

I let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay. I trust you. I don’t know why I’m so scared, I feel silly.”

Matt kisses my forehead. “Don’t feel silly, it’s okay to be safe. That’s what I’m here for. I’m gonna go inside, wait for me to signal you.” 

He squeezed my hands before leaving me behind  to enter the familiar building. 

------------------------

“Welcome to Amsterdam Nursing Home. How may I help you, sir?” The middle aged woman at the front desk greeted Matt as he entered. 

Matt smiled, “Good afternoon. I’m here to visit Violet Williams, I called earlier.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Murdock. Glad to see you’ve made it, I’m Jane.” The kind woman smiled as she walked over to him. “I’ll take you right over to Violet’s room, she just finished her lunch. Would you like to hold my arm for assistance?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you though.” Matt replied with his charming smile. 

“I must say, it’s so nice for Violet to finally have a visitor. Poor dear has been here a little over six months now and hasn’t had a single person come to see her since. I just wish your visit was under better circumstances.” She finished with a saddened frown. 

“I know, I truly wish her daughter was here instead. I know she loved her mom very much.” Matt replied, sticking to the lie he told. 

“Did you know her well?” Jane asked. 

“I did. We had been friends for a couple years before the...accident. I never had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Williams, but Ir- uh Lily talked about her so much, I feel like I know her already.” Matt wanted to kick himself for almost slipping up. 

Thankfully Jane didn’t seem to notice. “Yes, I remember meeting Lily when she checked Violet in. Such a sweet girl. But very sad. I remember how sad she was when she left. I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

The crack in the kind woman’s voice made Matt feel a twinge of guilt for the deception. 

“Did you tell Mrs. Williams?”

Jane nodded softly. “I did. She’s been taking it really hard, the poor dear.  She’s just devastated. I hope your visit along with Lily’s possessions will give her some comfort.”

“I have a feeling it will help a little.”  Matt replied with a knowing smile. 

They stopped in front of Violet’s door. Jane gently knocked, causing a sweet and somber voice to call out. “Jane?”

Jane opened the door and ushered Matt into the room. “Hi, Violet.” Jane greeted. “You have a visitor. This is Mr. Murdock; he was a friend of Lily’s and he wanted to meet you.”

“Oh yes, I remember you told me. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Murdock.” Violet replied, holding her hand out in their direction. 

“She has her hand in front of you, Mr. Murdock.” Jane whispered helpfully. 

“I’m pleased to meet you too, Mrs. Williams. And please, call me Matt.” Matt smiled as he gently shook Violet’s hand. 

“Only if you call me Violet.” She softly smiled in return. She then cocked her head in curiosity. “I don’t mean to pry, but Jane told you where my hand was. Are you blind as well, Matt?”

“It’s okay, Violet. And yes, I am.” Matt replied with a light chuckle. 

Violet faintly giggled in reply, “What a pair we make, huh?”

Jane cut in, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have to go make my rounds. Will you be alright, Violet?”

“Oh yes, Jane, thank you. Take all the time you need. We’ll be just fine.”

“Okay, dear. Mr. Murdock, there’s a chair and a table three steps to your right, make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a little bit to check in.” Jane replied before exiting the room. 

The moment Matt had been anticipating had finally come. 

He listened for Jane and any other person’s heartbeats near the door as well as the window to ensure that the coast was clear. 

“Is everything alright, Matt? Jane told me you brought some of Lily’s things to give to me.” Poor Violet’s voice cracked at mentioning her daughter’s name. 

Matt set down his cane and briefcase to kneel down in front of Violet in her wheelchair. “Violet, I’m going to be honest with you. I’m here because of Lily...but I’m not here to give you her possessions.”

“I don’t understand.” Violet warily replied. 

“Trust me.” He simply said, patting her hand before stepping towards the window. 

----------------------------------

I knelt behind the lush bushes hearing the rapid, anxious beating of my heart. I could hear the muffled voices of my mom, Matt, and another person in the room. 

There was silence. 

Then the window opened. 

My heart paused when Matt stuck his head out the window, smiling that beautiful smile down at me. 

He held out his hand to me and whispered. “Come on, it’s okay.”

I eagerly grabbed his hand, and he helped pull me through the window to my mom’s room. 

I had to hold onto Matt’s arm tightly to keep my knees from giving out at the first sight of my mom in six months. Still so beautiful, her face radiating sweetness, her bright blue eyes my own resembled; her shiny strawberry blonde hair that was once down to her shoulders was now in a cute, short pixie cut. She still looked so young; too young for a nursing home. 

“Matt? What’s going on?” Mom asked, her nervous voice snapping me out of my thoughts. 

I let out a shaky breath, Matt rubbed my back in encouragement. I pulled away from him to slowly walk towards my mom. My mouth opened and the first words I could think of were to the song she used to always sing me to sleep. 

“Stars shining bright above you” Mom let out a gasp, her eyes widened with tears. 

“Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’” She shakily reached out her hand to me, which I quickly grabbed. 

“Birds singing in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me”

“Lily!” Mom cried out, smiling through her tears. 

“Mommy!” I cried back as I dove into her arms, being mindful of her left side. 

Mom held me as tight as she could, saying “My baby, my baby” over and over. She rubbed her hand up and down my back, her hand reached up to my head to run her fingers through my hair. She paused her motions when she noticed my much shorter length. 

“Did you cut your hair, sweetie?” She asked. 

“Yeah...I dyed it too. I needed to change my look.” I took a deep breath for the hard truth. “I finally got away from him, Mommy.  It just got so terrible.” I held her hand that was now on my cheek. “But we’re gonna be fine. God, you look so beautiful! I love your new haircut.”

I ran my fingers through her short locks. She held my cheek, her thumb ran across my bottom lip, feeling the cut on my lip that’s now healed into a scar. 

Her eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Is he after you?”

I let out a sigh. “I don’t think so. But I’m not sure. That’s why we told them here that I was dead, so he couldn’t find me.”

“God, what did he do to you?” Mom started to cry. “What did he do to my baby?”

I wiped her tears, ignoring my own as I tried to console her. “It doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter now, Mommy. I’m okay now. I’m far away from him and that awful place. I have my own apartment now. I have it decorated the way I want. I get to listen to the music I want. I got a job, I’m making my own money. I work in a bakery, so I can bake you all the sweets you want. I’m playing the piano again. I play with other musicians. I have friends now, Mommy. They’re wonderful, you’ll love them.”

Mom smiled, tears still in her eyes. “So you’re not alone anymore?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m not alone anymore. I get to start over. I’m happy. For the first time in a long time.” 

“And how about your friend, Mr. Murdock here?” She asked with a light smirk. 

I blushed as I turned to look at Matt, who was standing against the wall smiling at us. “Matt’s really special to me. He was the first friend I made here. We live next door to each other, so it’s like he’s always by my side. He makes me feel safe.”

“Could you come here please, Matt?” Mom asked him. 

“Of course, Violet.” He walked over and knelt by her side next to me. 

“This sweet, beautiful girl is the light of my life. So I must ask, what are your intentions with my daughter?” I let out a surprised laugh at her question. 

Matt smiled sweetly and replied. “I intend to treat her like a Queen, like how she deserves to be treated. I will respect and cherish her. And I will protect her till my last breath.”

“Will you make her happy?”

“Yes, I hope so. I will do my absolute best to make her the happiest woman in the world.” He replied, reaching for my hand. 

Mom turned to me with a grin. “I really like him.”

I giggled. “I really like him too.”

Mom laid a tender kiss on  my forehead. “I am so proud of you, Lily. You are so strong. I know you probably don’t think so, but you are. You were trapped with that monster Paul, but you never gave up. You protected me when I should have protected you. You saved yourself. You are so brave and so strong, nobody can take that away from you. Not Paul, not anyone.  You’ve survived all this time, now you have the chance to live. Live and be happy, my sweet flower.” 

I struggled to control my tears as I replied. “I will, Mommy.”

“Matt?” Mom turned to face Matt again. 

“Yes, Violet?” He replied, his voice cracking. 

Mom raised her hand to his face, he took off his sunglasses already sensing what she would do. Her fingers lightly traced the features of his sweet face as she spoke. 

“Please be good to my baby girl. She’s been through so much pain and fear because of that monster, I blame myself for not realizing sooner how bad he was for her. She’s such a precious soul with so much love in her heart. Please don’t break it.”

“I won’t break it, Violet. You have my word. Nothing’s gonna harm her while I’m around. I swear on my father’s soul that she will never go through that nightmare again.” He replied with such conviction. 

Mom kissed him on the cheek with a soft reply of “Thank you. Thank you for bringing my baby back to me.” 

She turned to me and said. “I really really like him for you. And he’s so handsome.”

I let out a laugh seeing Matt blush at the compliment.  

For the first time in years, my heart felt so full and happy. It was like a wonderful dream that I didn’t want to wake up from. 

After spending a couple hours catching up with Mom, and promising to visit again soon, Matt snuck me back out the window and we took the next cab home. 

I laid my head comfortably on his chest with his arm wrapped around me, feeling absolutely relaxed and content. 

“Thank you for today. It meant a lot to me.” 

“You’re welcome, I’m happy to do it. I know how much you wanted and needed to see her.” He replied softly, laying a kiss on my forehead. “I just want you to know, I didn’t really do it to make you forgive me. I just really wanted to make you happy.”

“I know.” I replied with a faint smile as I closed my eyes to the sound of his comforting heartbeat. “But I forgive you anyway.” His heart skipped a beat. “Just don’t do anything that stupid to me again.”

His arm tightened slightly around me. “Never again, I promise. I shouldn’t have done it to begin with. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you like that-”

“Shhh.” I cut him off and whispered for only his ears. “Enough with the self loathing, Mr. Superhero.”

Matt gave a light chuckle. “I’m not a superhero.”

“You are to me.”

--------------------------------

Annnnnnnnd that’s it!! Iris and Matt now know the whole truth about each other and everything is okay. I got teary writing the reunion between Iris and Violet, not gonna lie. I hope you guys liked it and I’ll do my best to get chapter 13 out a lot sooner. School’s closed for at least 2 weeks now so I have plenty of free time to work on it. The next chapter is gonna be a little bit of a time jump to Iris’s birthday, and things will really be picking up after that. Thanks to all who are reading this story of mine! Please be sure to reblog and leave a comment, I love reading your thoughts on the chapter, you can ask to be added to the taglist, and follow me to stay updated on the upcoming chapters. Well that’s all for now, until next time...*kiss noise*

@jobean12-blog​​​​ @cametobuyplums​​​​ @tomhollandeu​​ @emilymarie0422​​​​ @lullabylike​​​​ @persephone-of-tartaros​​​ @softpeachbarnes​​​ @redrehab​​​ @writeyourmindaway​​​ @probably-a-velociraptor​​​ @andrasta14​​ @spidey-babe-parker​​ @redheadonfire20​

[theauthenticcommunicator]

10 Tips To Vastly Improve Your Public Speaking

As a coach of speaking and communication skills, I've learned that the same strategies apply to almost every situation where we're sharing our thoughts and ideas.

Graduation speeches, job interviews, eulogies, first dates, sales pitches, monologues and scenes for theater and film, wedding speeches, keynote speeches, and presentations at work are all made better by applying the following recommendations.

01 Breathing

It's the very first thing and the very last thing we do in this life. Improving the quality of your breathing on a daily basis can lead to better physical, mental and spiritual health. How you breathe in the ten minutes before you speak in front of a room full of people will make or break your presentation. Calming your breathing through exercises is something you can start to work on today, so that later when you are called upon to make an impromptu speech you'll be able to master your physiology.

Simply defined, breathing is the interchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the body. When we have too much carbon dioxide in the bloodstream, we begin to feel dizzy and experience shortness of breath. Chronic shallow breathing causes anxiety, high blood pressure, digestive problems, sleep disorders, and more. Re- learning to breathe more deeply is one of the most valuable skills to improve.

Unconscious thoughts can sometimes bring to the fore ideas one might easily dismiss as unrealistic.

02 Nix the Notes

If you're a hard worker and you want to get things exactly right, you are likely planning to work with notes during your presentation. You'll rehearse over and over with the goal of getting it exactly right - maybe even close to perfect. The problem with using notes is that it becomes too easy to start reading from them when we're nervous. This will result in a pretty flat presentation. If you memorize your speech word for word, you'll be stuck in your head - remembering. You might get every word right, but you won't be present with your audience because you'll be chained to the script. Structuring the framework of your speech in a way that you'll easily remember is a better approach.

Investigate how you structure your ideas. Get feedback about how you organize your thoughts. This will help you to become more comfortable when you have to speak on the fly without any prep (and bonus: you'll sound smarter). You should absolutely prepare your speech, but there is a point in the preparation where you must trust yourself and put down the index cards.

03 Stand And Deliver

What we do with our bodies tells a story. Crossing your arms looks closed off and defensive. Putting your hands behind you will cause people to distrust you. It's important to allow people to SEE you, which can feel incredibly awkward. You don't want to appear too stiff. You also don't want to seem too casual. The best thing you can do is to get balanced on your own two feet.

Stand with your feet a little more than hips-width distance apart. Roll a little forward onto your toes, and then rock back toward your heels. Then, side to side. Find where your body feels the most centered and balanced. Stack your bones. Your knees over your ankles. Hips over your knees. Shoulders over your hips. Balance the weight of your head over the structure of your bones. Then relax your arms by your side, palms facing slightly forward.

Do this often. In the grocery store. In the kitchen. When it becomes second nature you will start to feel confident in this sturdy and solid stance. This neutral, ready-for-anything posture is your home base.

Unconscious thoughts can sometimes bring to the fore ideas one might easily dismiss as unrealistic.

04 Remember Who Is Listening

The speech you're giving isn't for you. You've been selected to give it, and all eyes are on you, but you are meant to be talking TO other people. If you lose sight of that you will find yourself talking AT them. Youtube videos and Zoom presentations are rife with this talking AT business because we lose the sensory feedback of our audience and have only the tiny red or green dot of the camera to address. It's easy to disconnect from the listeners.

How can you connect with your listeners? With your voice? With your eyes? With your intentions? This is also related to allowing people to SEE you. Awareness is half the battle. A coach can help you activate your presentations.

Sometimes we forget to talk with all of the people in the room. At weddings, the Best Person or Person of Honor often forgets to address the family and friends of the new partner in their toast (I did this!). Executives speak at a company-wide meeting but are often just addressing upper management and not the entire supporting staff.

Work to be inclusive of every body in the room.

05 Watch Yourself

Record yourself as you practice a speech and then watch it a few times. Look for the good stuff. Repeat this. This isn't so you'll hate what you're doing and fix and fix and fix. This is so you'll get comfortable watching yourself.

The more you watch yourself, and accept yourself - your voice, your body, and your presence - the more you'll accept that others will appreciate what you have to offer.

Unconscious thoughts can sometimes bring to the fore ideas one might easily dismiss as unrealistic.

06 Be Truly You

I receive a good many queries about Accent Reduction training and cultivating Executive Presence. I urge you to be thoughtful about these pursuits.

If you're speaking English as a second language, you are a rock star because English is a tough language to learn. In terms of accent reduction, how much is sufficient to reduce? What does it really mean to sound more "American" or "British"? Is it to sound more "white"? Why should you sound more "white"? If you are pronouncing a great many English words incorrectly, you will need to buckle down in your ESL work. But your accent is a part of YOU.

If anyone asks you to develop Executive Presence, press them for a very specific actionable definition. Are there specific skills you need to develop?

An Executive is someone who can be trusted to lead in the good times and the lean times. Executive Presence = Confident Leadership. There are many kinds of leaders out there. What kind of leader are you? Cultivate this.

You are enough. You are delightful. You are better off being you than trying to pretend you're somebody else. Humility and authenticity are more highly-valued than a suit jacket you can barely afford.

07 Bring In The Funny

It feels risky to reveal our sense of humor. Humor shows people who we really are and how we see the world. There are more appropriate times for humor than others, but sometimes nudging the boundaries a little is good for letting down our collective shoulders.

When our audience is distracted they are many separate people. When they are tuned in to a speaker they become a collective and present entity. Laughter connects us.

As a speaker, you control the energy in the room. It's important to read the room. Who are these people? Why did they come here? Are they hot? Are they hungry? Anyone in the theater or comedy biz will tell you that every audience is different. If a joke flops they will still connect with you more for trying. A planned recovery line ("Tough crowd, tough crowd...") can win them over.

Humor in a speech will humanize you. It's worth the risk and if you bring down the house you have everything to gain.

Unconscious thoughts can sometimes bring to the fore ideas one might easily dismiss as unrealistic.

08 Say Nice Things

If you beat up on yourself all the time with harsh thinking, you are going to be hard-pressed to believe yourself when you're mustering up the confidence to give a speech or to walk in proudly for the job interview.

If the messages you are always receiving inside yer noggin' are critical and damning, it's time to switch things up. We wouldn't talk to a child in the same way that we often talk to ourselves. It's incredibly important to change your self-talk immediately.

Start by writing a mini-speech called "My Favorite Things About Me". Give this short speech to yourself often. Recite it out loud. Recite it silently. Say good things about yourself when you're talking to other people. Say good things in your mind while you are brushing your teeth. Say good things a lot so you'll always know that you have YOU in your corner.

09 Skip the Sweet, the Sour, the Salty, the Spicy, the Sloppy, and the Stimulating

Sugar, chocolate, onions, garlic, dairy, pepper, chips, french fries, citrus, booze, and caffeine are ...amazing. They are also terrible dietary choices for presentation days.

Sugar, dairy, spice, and salt can create a bad scene in your gut and when that comes back into your throat at some point (sometimes you aren't even aware of it returning - it can be subtle), you'll find your voice sounds weaker, and will even begin to crack more. Citrus or dairy will put you into an alternating cycle of a dry throat and excess phlegm production. Booze is a bad idea for a number of reasons. Caffeine and nerves are a sweaty combination.

Eat some simple protein. Some rice. A few cooked veggies. Stop eating a couple of hours before you speak. Drink a whole lot of water up to an hour before your presentation. After that, just small sips.

Unconscious thoughts can sometimes bring to the fore ideas one might easily dismiss as unrealistic.

10 Feel The Feelings

You're nervous. You just are. Folks reach out to me to figure out if there's a way to stop feeling nervous. There really isn't. The reason why you're feeling this way is that there are so many unknowns. Public speaking is truly heightened uncertainty! The fear of public speaking has a name: Glossophobia.

It's like a roller coaster. You wait in line and start to psyche yourself out. You feel like you want to change your mind and RUN. Then there's a point of no return - you move forward - you're gonna DO this! And then you're a couple of minutes away from speaking and things get realllly uncertain.

Feeling fear can be a really fantastic way to get to know yourself. Feel it in your body. Relax your shoulders. Unclench your jaw. Breathe your calming breaths. See yourself in this moment. Tell yourself you're into it and that you'll enjoy the ride. You're gonna DO this thing - this crazy thing! You might even find yourself smiling about being in this crazy situation. That's exactly when you know you're ready.

Speaking and communicating well will benefit you in all areas of your life.

You can make great progress and get to a place where you aren't dreading presentations, meetings, or speeches. Communication skills are just that: skills to learn and practice. It might even become fun. It might even become something you love doing.

Reach out to me with questions. It would be a treat to hear from you.

Good luck to you!

aimee@theauthenticcommunicator.com

[stoopsbookstore]

Kinktober Day 14 (10/14/2019)

Kinks - Dacryphilia (Crying) & Hybristophilia (Fetish of knowing your partner just commited a crime a.k.a. Bonnie and Clyde)

"Did you hear about the possible theft happened in town?"

"No, but do you think it's the same hooded guy who's been all over the wanted posters?!"

"Oh my God, what if he tried attacking the princess?!"

"Is that why she's being locked in a tower?!"

"He killed that vanguard, maybe he's escalating to the princess!"

Rumors spread throughout the kingdom, not letting up for even a second. They said that the princess was attacked by a hooded man, or that she was pregnant by one of the butlers.

"Do you think it was Jaemin?"

"Hell no, he's too much of a child. Maybe it was Johnny, the stable boy."

"She does go to the garden a lot and he is always th-"

The gossip stopped as Y/N walked by the two slackers, Yuta and Jaemin in tow.

"Don't you think you should focus on cleaning the palace instead of whose cock I'm jumping on or if someone wants to slash my throat?"

The four servants were stunned at the mood changes in Y/N, she never had been this mean, even if she was scolding or busting them. It was like she had been possessed. The flowers in the garden wilted and were eventually taken over by weeds. The entire atmosphere of the palace felt drained. Y/N walked the halls like a ghost, floating through the corridors. Letters in her hands that she refused to let anyone even look at.

Yuta and Jaemin watched Y/N walk up the stairs to her temporary tower, the tall, winding spiral staircase hopefully a deterrent for any who try to attack. Yuta noticed one of the letters at the first step, picking up and reading the contents.

"Do you think he went after her?"

"No," Yuta looked at the younger male, patting his back in assurance, "he's a criminal, but Taeyong said something like he's chaotic good, he steals from the rich and gives to the poor. He wouldn't have attacked Y/N. Also, based on these letters, it seems like they have a relationship."

"Why do you think she's been so quiet then?"

"Broken heart?" Yuta shrugged before Chaeyeon came up, ripping the letter out of his hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with that letter?"

"It was on the ste-"

"It's meant for Princess Y/N and no one else," Chaeyeon barked at Yuta, her eyes with a glint of annoyance, walking up the stairs to deliver the note.

"So you know about the boy on the wanted poster?" Chaeyeon stopped as the younger male bared his teeth, "do you know him?!"

"I could ask you little shits the same question," Chaeyeon bit back, "now if you excuse me, I need to deliv-"

"Get back to work, you three."

Shindong, the head butler yelled at the trio at the base of the tower, breaking up the impromptu meeting. Yuta and Jaemin kept their heads down while Chaeyeon walked up the staircase to the princess.

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

In the tower, Y/N didn't do much except read or sleep, hours upon hours of nothing. Night had begun, the sun going down in the sky causing a glow in the room that comforted the princess, the sky a golden bronze turning into a deep void.

Y/N walked over to the desk pushed up against the wall, the wanted poster and a familiar face. Tears begun swelling up, falling onto the parchment, causing it to shiver up even more.

A knocking on the floot entrance made Y/N jump back.

"Y/N, it's Yuta! We only have a few minutes until someone checks in on you, open up!"

Y/N bent down and reached for the handle of the hatch, opening it only for three boys scattering in the small space.

"Have you been cryi-"

Jaemin was cut off by Doyoung's cloak engulfing Y/N, the girl audibly sobbing as the criminal swayed back and forth, comforting the princess.

"What happened?" Y/N asked Doyoung, her voice weak and breaking as she noticed the blood on his neck.

"I'll tell you all about it, I just needed to see you," Doyoung brushed his thumbs over Y/N's cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Yuta, Jaemin, what's going on?" Y/N broke out of her lover's hold to scold the two servants, the duo looking around for any sort of answers.

"Your highness, please don't be mad."

"We've been helping him," Jaemin's confession spilled out of his lips like a waterfall, Yuta contorting his body in discomfort as he tried to hide himself, "we've been taking some jewelry and goods so he can give them to his friends. We helped him come in through the kitchen every night. He's a good guy, we prom-"

"I know he's a good guy, Jaemin," Y/N's eyes red and cheeks itchy from the tears, "I just didn't realize you've been helping him."

"Are we in trouble?" Yuta looked up from the floor, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, but there was no need to plead.

"Go get bandages and antiseptic," Y/N lifted the hatch once more, "be quiet and careful, don't let anyone know what's going on."

Yuta and Jaemin hurried down the stairs, the opening now closed as Y/N went back to hugging the hooded figure. Doyoung's arms squeezed Y/N's waist, trying to bring the girl impossibly close to him.

"I've been worried about you, Yuta told me they put you in a tower because of me," Doyoung walked the pair out to the small bed, just barely big enough for the two, "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Did you really kill that man?" Y/N was straddling Doyoung's lap, her arms around his neck, her nightgown bunching up, "Doyoung, please tell me the truth."

Doyoung tilted Y/N's chin up, their eyes meeting each other, "do you want the truth?"

Y/N bit her lip, scared to know the answer, but wanting the truth.

Running her hands through his hair, he was debating on what to tell the girl in his lap. He was panicking, the room now only lit by a few candles on the walls, Y/N looking more ethereal. Doyoung didn't realize his mouth had opened until Y/N gasped.

"Yes."

Y/N stood up, half in shock, half in acknowledgement, her eyes growing glossy again.

"Y/N, it was self-defense," Doyoung mimicked her actions, standing up, tears falling on his cheek, "I didn't want to, but he attacked som-"

"Chaeyeon."

"She told you?"

"Who do you think has been bringing me the letters?" Y/N let out a breath of relief, "she told me about that night, I pieced it together when I saw the posters going up. I thought the worst."

Doyoung walked up to Y/N, kissing her in a moment of passion, "I don't ever want you to think the worst of me. I promise I only do good when I'm being bad."

Y/N smiled through the tears, Doyoung standing in front of her in comfortable silence. She pulled off her nightgown to reveal her body, only panties covering her. Doyoung took off his cloak, new wounds covering his arms, her hands tracing over each one.

"I know I'm not the prince you thought you would be in love," Doyoung helped Y/N to the bed, moving papers and books out of the way, Y/N sitting on the wood as Doyoung began kissing her body, "but I promise I will be the best man I can be, god you're so beautiful."

Y/N responded to Doyoung's touches with whines and moans, his praises felt sll throughout her body. Y/N kept her head on Doyoung's chest, her hands scratching down his back as his fingers began to play in her panties. Doyoung instantly started working on Y/N's clit, his other hand on her back, holding Y/N close to him, her tears still flowing.

"Don't cry, I'm here for you," Doyoung pulled his hand away from Y/N, "come on, not on a desk."

Y/N hopped off the desk, following Doyoung as he gently laid her down on the mattress, kissing and loving her body.

"You just killed someone," Y/N's voice cracked.

"To protect another," Doyoung kissed up Y/N's stomach to her neck, snuggling into the flesh, "I don't do anything horrible."

"You're a wanted criminal," Y/N pulled on Doyoung's hair, a growl coming out of his throat.

"Who you're in bed with," Doyoung pulled down Y/N's panties, throwing them aside, burying his face into Y/N's slit as he began to eat her out.

"Doyoung," Y/N's body was drained from all the crying, everything already sensitive, "I don't wa-want you t-"

"You want me to stop?" Doyoung halted his actions, confused, "I thou-"

"Just make love to me please," Y/N's voice cracked again, Doyoung untying the lace on his pants and chucking them to meet Y/N's discarded panties.

Doyoung pumped himself, rubbing his cock up and down in Y/N's essence. He pushed into her, bottoming out as he pulled her closer to him. His thrusts began almost immediately, Y/N keeping her mouth shut so they won't get caught, her hands on his lower back.

"My princess, I never want to see you crying again," the passion in the crimnial's thrusts meeting Y/N's hips in beat with the starting rain, "I want to see you happy forever, I want you to be mine forever. God, I wish I could fill you up without the kingdom knowing."

Y/N let out a ecstatic moan, Doyoung's dirty talk bringing her closer and closer to the edge she was ready to jump off of.

"Having children with you would be the best thing, they would have an amazing life," Doyoung felt Y/N clenching around him, "just a little bit more, princess."

Y/N felt her legs shake as Doyoung moved his hand to her clit, rubbing at the same pace of his hips.

Y/N came with a silent moan, her eyes shutting tight as she felt Doyoung's semen leak out of her, the liquid feeling warm on her thighs.

"You're so perfect," Doyoung kissed her forehead, pulling out, but holding Y/N in a calm aura, the only noise coming from the downpour that suddenly emerged outside.

Y/N got herself out of Doyoung's grasp, laying down and wrapping herself in the blanket. Doyoung uncovered her for a second, grabbing her discarded night gown to wipe her down. Y/N's eyes started to flutter shut, Doyoung kissing her cheek before spotting the wanted poster.

'Fuck, I have to go,' he wanted to say, he really did, but with the entire kingdom looking for him, he couldn't risk himself and potentially Y/N for his own selfish wants.

As Doyoung was about to leave, his wrist was held by Y/N's hand, her body covered by the blanket, her eyes tired from the roller coaster of emotions.

"Stay, please."

Doyoung grabbed his cloak, placing it over Y/N's shoulder before crawling into bed with her.

"For tonight and forever."

[afriendlyphobia]

“Got My Ion You”

pairing: Spider-man/peter parker x reader

genre: flufff

warnings: none :)

Request?

word count: 2.6k

A/n: tbh i got this idea while i was cleaning my room. so idk if it even makes sense and i haaaate itttt also this is the longest one shot fic i’ve ever written lord help me

—————————————————————————————————-

You looked up from your homework, chewing on the end of your pencil lightly. It was a habit that you had never been able to let go, but you claimed it helped you “think better”. You eyes narrowed in on your best friend who was currently lounging next to you on his phone.

“Hey Pete.” The brunette looked over at you, eyes wide with a puzzled expression.

“Exactly how does being on your phone help you with studying for finals?” You questioned him jokingly. After all, he was the one who had begged you to come over and study claiming that he couldn’t focus alone.

“I already know all the material.” He shrugged, going back to scroll through his feed.

Your eyebrows bumped together and confusion. “Then why did you beg and plead to come study with me?”

“Is there a problem with me wanting to hang out with my best friend since second grade?” He questioned you innocently, rolling onto his stomach. He placed his head on his palms and blinked at you with puppy eyes.

Okay, you had to admit he had a point. The two of you were practically inseparable. From spending almost everyday together or on video call to constantly texting, you almost considered him your brother.

Almost.

See, you happened to have a rather huge crush on none other than Peter Parker. You’d started having feelings for him nearly two years ago, and assumed that the butterflies would die in a few month. But you were wrong...so wrong.

The butterflies had seemed to multiply and now you were in love with the curly haired, starry-eyed, beautiful boy whom you called your friend...and nothing more.

But there was nothing you could do to fix your problem. You risked a lot by telling him about your feelings. Peter wasn’t the type to stop being friends with you just because you liked him, but you didn’t want to ruin things and make it awkward.

It was cliche, you knew that. But this was real life. Things don’t work like those movies and books do...right?

What you didn’t know is that Peter wasn’t much better off that you. He had liked you since, well, you first met him. He had just never said anything due to the same reasons you had.

That and recently Peter had started having a growing attraction to someone he could never tell you about in a million years.

You shook your head, coming back to reality, and rolled your eyes at him. “What are you doing anyway?”

He showed the screen of his phone to you before moving it back. “Reading science pick up lines.” He said, as if the pastime was completely normal.

“Oooooh~ Peterrr wanna tell me about her?” You cooed, mimicking a basic highschool girl while moving closer to him.

“Nahhh.” He rolled over onto his side so his back was facing you. “Don’t think I will.”

You’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that you’re heart dropped for a second. But how could you not expect him to have a crush on someone else. Honestly you were surprised he didn’t even have anyone in the first place considering how beautiful and perfect he was.

You didn’t reply, only going back to study your notes. Your answer being in the form of the sound of you writing.

“Do you wanna hear one?” His soft voice asked after a few seconds of silence.

You signed and slowly nodded without looking up, but you could just tell he was beaming at the moment.

“Ok ok... So. My love for you is like the universe.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Never ending!”

His face almost made you laugh, but just for the spite of it, you kept a straight face and slowly shook your head in fake disapproval.

“Not feelin it?”

“Try another one, Champ.” You rolled your eyes, a tiny smile pulling at your lips.

“Fine.” He sighed, scrolling through his phone for another second before glancing at you. “Do you like science? Cuz i’ve got my ion you.”

The joke was bad enough, but Peter, being the little shit he is, added a wink into the mix. To avoid blushing madly from the tiny gesture, you picked up a pillow and threw it at him as hard as possible.

“What the—Ouch!” He flailed off the bed, exaggerating his pain and rolled around on the floor. “Oh i’m wounded!” He groaned before picking the same weapon up and chucking it back at you.

You ducked, missing his attack completely. You smiled widely at him, holding up two middle fingers innocently.

“You’re the worst.” You rolled your eyes, a tiny giggle still detectable in your voice. “You and your pick-up lines.”

“Hey, I’m just warming up.” Peter sat up, pushing the messy curls from his eyes. “You must be a 90 degree angle because to me, you look just right.”

“PETER!” You yelled, once again chucking the pillow back at him. This time however, you were giggling at his stupid self. It wasn’t long before he too joined you as a laughing mess. All which was music to your ears.

~•~

The next day was an absolute roller coaster for you. It started out like any normal day, but after getting an Avengers alert in the middle of AP Chem, things got a little crazy.

That would be your third unexcused absence that week. If you kept your side job up, your mother would start to wonder what you were doing instead.

Of course it wasn’t your fault, it was either get perfect attendance or save the world. You chose the latter.

Stumbling out of school, you ran into a abandoned alley way and began hurriedly stripping out of your school clothes, revealing the slightly armored spandex suit that was hidden beneath. You shuffled through your bag, pulling out the black, red, and silver mask.

You stuffed your school back in its normal hiding spot before running down the alley, failing to notice the webbed (in plain sight) backpack also there.

“Hey. F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You tapped your temple.

“Yes, Ms. L/N?” The automated voice responded.

“Pick me up.”

“Already on it, look behind you.” You glanced over your shoulder, smiling under your mask as your similarly colored motorcycle approached from behind.

Doing a backflip at exactly the right moment, you landed perfectly on the seat of your ride. Gripping the handles, your sped up, moving faster towards the indicated spot on your mask’s digital map.

“Incoming call from: Spider-Man.” You raised your eyebrows at the notification but told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to answer it.

“Hey Webhead!” You greeted your partner. Without the original Avengers around to protect Manhattan, the two of you had become the next generation. The dynamic duo. Partners in fighting crime. “How’s downtown looking?”

You heard incoherent sarcastic mumbling before getting a reply. “Looks like a giant mechanic thingy.”

“Thingy? Very professional.”

“—Shut up. You’re late anyway.”

You swerved hard around a truck, leaning in order to make it in time before oncoming traffic reached you. “Sorry we live in Manhattan. Traffic isn’t always ideal.” You rolled your eyes at your partner.

“Wanna take the high route?” You could hear the ‘thwip’ sound of his webshooters, knowing that he was already in his way.

You didn’t reply, just ended the call and gave F.R.I.D.A.Y a quick command. “Hey take over for me, will you?”

“Of course.”

You let go of the handle bars, raising one arm, knowing your spider-friend wasn’t far away.

A gloved hands clasped your semi-covered one and pulled you into the air.

“Yoink!” You looked up at the hero, knowing that he was grinning behind his mask.

“Really? Every time?” Your mask’s eyes narrowed at him in faux disapproval.

He shrugged, using the momentum of swinging to pull you up against his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to let go of you and use both hands to swing through the city. You could feel his heart beat, and it was racing. You could only assume he was nervous about the fight; you were too.

The two of you were close, fighting crime together for almost a year now was one of the factors. However, you didn’t really know who he actually was.

It was a promise you both made when you signed up for the job. You weren’t gonna let your personal lives get mixed with your hero lives. It was sensible, but it didn’t keep you from wondering what he looked like under than mask. You’d be naive to assume he never thought the same.

Not long after, the two of you were standing on a rooftop, watching as the giant mechanical monster worked it’s way towards the heart of Manhattan.

You breathed out an exasperated breath as you watched it. “Hydra again?”

Spider-Man crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged. “I’m assuming so. Looks tougher than last time though.”

“Don’t be a whimp.” You shrugged, attempting to mask the worry in your own voice. “You ready to go, Spidey?”

He looked from you, to the machine, then back to you. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He held out his hand, ready for your famous handshake.

You smiled, following his lead before jumping into action.

~i can’t write fight scenes help~

Nearly two hours later, you sat on the same rooftop from before as a bruised, sweaty, and bloody mess. You could feel the wounds healing due to your healing factor, but it hurt none the less.

Spider-man has dropped you off (per your command) and was dealing with the clean up and press. but you expected him to be back at any moment.

As if he had heard your thoughts, the masked web-slinger showed up. He landed on the rooftop, his body language showing how exhausted he really was.

He stumbled over to you, sliding down the same half wall you rested against.

“Back from the red carpet?” You quipped, trying to control your heaving breathing.

“Har. Har.” He mock laughed, placing a hand over the burned scar on his abdomen while wincing.

He glanced at you, one of his fiberglass eye-lenses was cracked, giving you the first look at his real eyes you had ever seen. But there was something else, the tiny part of his cheek you could seen was...pink? Was he blushing?

You shook your head. No, of course not. He was probably just worn out.

But his eyes didn’t leave your figure. They were searching you, even though most of your face was covered (except for the parts now exposed from cuts and burns).

But there was something familiar about those eyes. Something that you couldn’t put your together due to your hazy, tired mind.

Your partner seemed to be thinking something similar as you. But he gave up, resting his head back against the wall and sighed heavily.

“Hey.” He breathed, not looking at you. You didn’t verbal reply, just looking at you with tired eyes. “Do you like science?”

You raised you eyebrow, mouth moving to open as you finally began to piece two and two together.

“Cuz I’ve got my ion you.” Laughing breathlessly at his joke, the hero attempted to lighten the mood. the effort caused him to wince several times during the process.

“Wha...what the?” You slowly sat up, eyes widening. “Peter..?”

The visible eye widened in shock. “Uh, uh.” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. “What are you talkin—“ You pulled off you mask, eyes still wide with surprise. “Y/N?!!”

Spider-man reached up and pulled up off his own mask, his eyes nearly as wide as yours.

There sat your childhood best friend, bruised from battle, with his mouth hanging wide open.

“How can this be?” He asked, his voice going an octave higher as he stuttered. “My best friend is also my hero partner? That’s crazy, i mean, what are the chances of that? And to think I stopped liking you because i thought i had no chance and I started liking your alter ego—wait, shit.” He covered his mouth with his hands.

“Peter...?” Leaning towards him, your voice fell to just barely above a whisper. “You like...me?”

“Well I...” He glanced at you and pushed back his messy curls from his forehead. “Yes...I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we met.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked softly, already knowing the reason.

“Because...you just seemed so out of my league.” He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting nervously with the webshooters. “You’re amazing, sweet, kind, and absolutely beautiful. Plus we have such an amazing friendship I—“ He took a deep breath when you placed your own hand over his, slowly interlocking them.

He looked up at you, a sudden wave of boldness washing through his veins. “—I don’t wanna just be your friend.”

His free hand moved up to cup your cheek; his eyes glanced from your eyes to your lips. “I want to be more.” He breathed.

You didn’t reply, your actions speaking for you as you leaned closer to him.

“Can I..?” Peter asked, unsure suddenly as doubts began to flood his mind.

You could tell he was about to say something else, but before he could say anything, you gently pressed your lips against his.

And suddenly a beautiful feeling washed over you. Those butterflies you had been holding onto seemed to burst into freedom. Your lips moved in sync, like they were made to be together.

Peter’s hands found your hips naturally, holding onto you as if you were his lifeline. You hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twirling gently in his soft hair.

Pulling back for hair, your chests heaved, but you kept your forehead pressed against his.

“Hey Pete?” You asked softly.

He hummed in response, face still red and heart pounding.

“I think...I love you.” You whispered now only a few centimeters from his lips.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat when you said those words. Those magical words he never thought he would hear you say. He bit his lips, savoring the sound of you saying it play over and over in his mind.

“Can you..” He hesitated. “Can you say that again?”

Your eyebrows bumped together as you leaned back to get a better look at him. “I love you?”

Like a giddy middle school girl, he fell backwards, nearly giggling from all the emotions that were coursing through him.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He laughed, covering his face with his hands before jumping up.

“I love you. I love you. I love you!” He laughed, forgetting all previous pain. You looked at him, smiling at how genuinely happy he was. He reached a hand out to you, pulling you up.

He twirled you around, causing you to giggle at his pure reaction to the event. Coming back in from the twirl, you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly.

He laughed softly, resting his head in the crook of your neck, beaming like a little kid in a candy store.

“Are you less than 90 degrees?”

“Peter, don’t you dare—“

“Cause you’re acute girl!” He laughed, and you pushed away from him, punching his chest (lightly of course). He laughed, giving you the biggest grin possible. “You know you love me.” He smirked, winking at you.

You blushed, shaking your head as you crossed your arms. “Yeah..” You huffed. “Yeah I love you..”

You smiled at each other, getting lost in the magic of the night.

[basic-cable]

Fic Rec Bingo

I saw this making the rounds on Twitter and decided I’d like to try it (mostly because I enjoy going back through my list and reminiscing about the ones I love but haven’t read in a while), but didn’t feel like Twitter was the best place to post mine. I’ve got both Dreamwidth and Pillowfort, but I haven’t really used them. This is probably the kind of thing that should go there, so maybe I’ll post it there, too. We’ll see. 

Anyway, I only read in four fandoms, so maybe my recs will be boring to most people. But they’re good stories, and maybe there are even some people out there who haven’t read them. 

I don’t expect any reblogs or anything, but maybe people will see it and decide they’d like to take part, and then there will be more fic recs out there making the world a better place.

I put them under a cut because the descriptions and stuff take up so much space.

1. A fic you love without knowing the source material Take the Pieces and Build them Skywards by quarterturn Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 44,816 ** Explicit ** Character Death Gerard's not happy with his life, but that doesn't mean he's particularly thrilled when he wakes up dead. To add insult to injury, he finds out that instead of crossing over, he's been chosen to join the ranks of the grim reapers. Things get more complicated when he falls for one of the living, a waiter named Frank Iero. And just when everything finally seems to be falling into place, Frank's name shows up on the list of souls to be reaped. Loosely based on the TV show Dead Like Me.

I don’t know anything about the TV show Dead Like Me; when I first read this fic in 2009, I had never even heard of it. I’ve wondered since then if I like it even better because I don’t know anything about the source material, but I’ll never know.It made me laugh and cry; it’s an emotional roller coaster, and I love it.

2. A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but does

An Inexplicable Occurrence of Angels by stele3

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 35,192 ** PG-13 ** No Warnings

I've messed with the band timeline, clearly. This is set in summer of 2005... but it ain't the Summer of Like. This is a story about second chances and gutting through your own failures, but never letting them defeat you. Take that, bitches.

Frank (Frank!) is a literal angel, okay, but there is not a thing I don’t love about this story. It’s angsty but still manages to be cute and charming as fuck, and the characterization is great.

3. A fic you’ve reread several times

Seeds by thesardine

Sherlock ** Gen, supposedly ** 5,475 ** PG-13 ** No Warnings

In a fit of boredom Sherlock plants some seeds, may or may not eat one cracker, and definitely waxes dramatic on the sofa for a while.

Sherlock struggles with a bit of depression caused by boredom, and accidentally discovers a hobby he slowly learns to allow himself to enjoy. I love this a lot; the author takes us into Sherlock’s headspace, so you’re painfully aware just how much he needs a distraction, and how much better off he is with John in his life.

4. A fic you still remember many years later

In Care Of by Fangs_Fawn

Harry Potter ** Gen ** 45,319 ** PG-13 ** Child Abuse

During the summer before sixth year, Harry finds an injured bat in the garden and decides to try to heal it...and an unwilling Snape learns just what kind of a person Harry Potter really is.

Between the Dursleys getting what’s coming to them, and the redemption of Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore in each others’ eyes, this story has really stuck with me through the years.

5. A comfort fic

Nature and Nurture by earlgreytea68

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 203,273 ** Mature ** No Warnings

The British Government accidentally clones Sherlock Holmes. Which brings a baby to 221B Baker Street.

Thousands of words of fluff. Literally. There’s not a lot of conflict in this story, which makes it a great comfort fic when your mind is too busy or real life is too depressing.

6. A cathartic fic

The Quiet Man by ivyblossom

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 157,369 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

"Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?"

Post-Reichenbach John is walking the line between fantasy and reality, choosing to stay with the Sherlock in his head rather than deal with the reality where he no longer exists. He eventually manages to attempt a normal life, but he’s bored and basically sleepwalking through his days, so when Sherlock finally reveals himself, it’s the best kind of relief. They go after the last remnants of Moriarty’s web, in hopes of a second chance at the life they should have had together.

7. A fic you’d print and put on your bookshelf

Saving Sherlock Holmes by earlgreytea68

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John Mycroft/Greg ** 139,494 ** Mature ** Underage

Okay. So. This was literally supposed to be, like, three or four chapters as a prologue to the show. Sort of a "what happened in the Holmes childhoods to make them the way they are today." That's why it's set in the time period it is, because I thought I was eventually going to leave them to go on to the show. And then...I got a bit carried away and thought, Here I have established the two young Holmes boys. Now what happens if, instead of making them wait twenty years, I give them everything they need to fix themselves right now? Forty-three chapters later, you have this story.

To be honest, I would like to have most of my favorite fics in book form, with actual pages, that I could pluck from my actual shelf and sit and read without the glare of a screen between us. But I do enjoy the feel of this story, and I do believe it would make a good actual book.

8. A fic you associate with a song

Unholyverse by bexless

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 186,764 ** Explicit ** Violence & Character Death

“He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out.

“Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.”

Every time I so much as think about this series, MCR’s Heaven Help Us starts playing in my head.

9. A fic that inspires you

Turn by Saras_Girl

Harry Potter ** Harry/Draco ** 306,708 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Frankly, I love every single thing this author has ever churned out, but this one is my very favorite. Harry gets a glimpse into what his life could have been, and a chance to make big changes he desperately needs. 

10. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

So, So Fucked by Anonymous

Bandom ** Pete/Patrick ** 12,565 ** Mature ** No Warnings

Pete accidentally "outs" himself and Patrick on Good Morning America. Only problem? They're not gay. What now?

I was reading strictly in Harry Potter at the time, and wasn’t interested in bandom at all, but my best friend was doing betas for someone who was writing in bandom, and she ended up getting into it and then wrote this one, and kept calling me about it to bounce ideas around, and the story was so cute, and Pete and Patrick were so cute, and I suddenly found myself totally invested. Honestly I think it may have been one of the best things that ever happened to me.

11. A fic you wish could be a movie

The Anatomy of a Fall by novembersmith

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 107,525 ** Explicit ** Violence & Character Death

The unholy union of a high school AU and a ghost story. Gerard's life takes a strange turn when his family moves to a small town in Vermont and he discovers the locals aren't all what they seem to be. Also includes: unexpected nature walks, murder, pining, improper treatment of crime scenes, a number of bone-related puns, high school bullies, and a short-range shrub named Ferdinand.

This story has excellent imagery that I think would work really well on the big screen. Plus I can’t even hear the name of it without my heart doing flip-flops.

12. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Seven ficlets for Valentine’s Day Part VII by RedOrchid

Bandom ** GSF ** 1,042 ** Mature? ** No Warnings

Panic-as-cleaning-equipment-AU Valentine's Day GSF.

I technically don’t have a fic for this bingo square, but this one comes close, I guess. The author was already in my larger circle of friends, but we didn’t actually talk to each other? She wrote this crack ficlet around the same time we started talking to each other more, and I still vividly remember it because of the genius involved in turning band boys into literal cleaning equipment. The line “Ryan bristled” has stuck with me to this day.

13. free space

Elf ‘Verse by mokuyoubi

Bandom ** GSF ** 103,247 ** Explicit ** Underage

Modern AU where Ryan is a famous poet, and he and Spencer are fiercely private and insular and stupidly co-dependent until Jon shows up and effortlessly breaks down all their walls.

Or

Wherein Brendon and Frank are Christmas elves who, inspired by Will Farrell movies, venture into the real world to become rock stars. Or something of that nature.

I’ve got a lot of love for this universe for various reasons, but it’s also fun and heartwarming and honestly, I don’t really need anything else.

14. A fic you’ve gushed about irl

Harry Potter and the Battle of Wills by Jocelyn (and her mum)

Harry Potter ** Mostly Gen ** 137,385 ** Basically PG-13 ** Character Death

Harry mourns his godfather as the war finally begins in earnest, bringing tragedy and new struggles for all those on the side of Good. If they hope to win, all quarrels must be set aside, new alliances must be forged, and Harry Potter must find the courage to face down dark wizards, his own emotions, and a destiny he did not choose. Snape blows his cover as a spy to save Harry from Voldemort.

This begins after Order of the Phoenix, and the story and characters read more like canon than any other HP fic I’ve read, so because of that and because it’s so, so good, I like to rec this one to people who are new to fandom.

15. A fic you associate with a place

Stately Homes of Wiltshire by waspabi

Harry Potter ** Harry/Draco ** 57,582 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Wiltshire! I’ve never actually been there, but this author is really good about details. The story is also lovely and funny.

16. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Home is a Name by Arsenic

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 39,314 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

MCR Clinic of Love. Companion fic to Wednesday Night Boys.

Okay, so this one is actually a sequel, and the first installment, Wednesday Night Boys, should 100% be read first. It must be said, though, that while the sequel doesn’t have any warnings, Wednesday Night Boys is about the Panic! kids as prostitutes, and has warnings for graphic violence, rape/non-con, and underage sex. The MCR guys work at the free clinic, and Home is a Name focuses on them. They’re honestly both gorgeous stories.

17. A fic you found at the right time

real or not real by thearkdelinquents

Anne with an E ** Anne/Gilbert ** 11,587 ** PG ** No Warnings

“I could do it.” Gilbert said, looking straight ahead.

Anne stopped. “What?”

He turned to look at her; they were just outside Green Gables now. “I could do it. I could court you.”

“What- We- You- I- You don’t like me like that.” Anne sputtered.

Gilbert smirked at her. “Well we could pretend. I could court you and be your fake boyfriend.”

For one of the few times in her life, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was speechless.

-

a fake dating fic but it's basically just a shirbert To All The Boys I Loved Before au.

I really, really loved Anne with an E. When the final season was released, I spent a weekend binge-watching the entire show, and then it was over and I was bereft, so I decided to see what was available on Ao3, and I found this, and it was exactly what I needed. And now I have another fandom.

18. A fic that you would read fic of

Left by lifeonmars

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 45,153 ** Mature ** No Warnings

John Watson is left-handed.

He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

In this universe, all right-handed people have some kind of power, or ‘knack’, most of which are mild and easily categorized. Sherlock’s is rare and believed to be the only one like it in the world. John is left-handed, part of the 10% of the population without a knack. I would read all kinds of fics of this fic.

19. A fic that made you laugh out loud

What to do When Your Flatmate is Homicidal by hyacinth_sky747

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 58,650 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

Sherlock takes Molly's advice when dealing with his dangerous flatmate.

Heartwarming and hilarious. I laughed a lot.

20. A fic with a line (or two) that you’ve memorised by heart

A Necessary Requirement by Bexless

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 3,759 ** Mature ** No Warnings

Right, here is the extremely silly storylet I wrote BY HAND on holiday. On PAPER. With a PEN. My god. The things I do when I'm separated from my beloved net. It is set during the Summer of Like (Warped '05, for those of you who don't know) and is basically a product of my reaction to various pictures of Gerard groping himself on stage, which led to me obsessing about his dick and what it might look like. As usual, I chose to work this obsession out through Frank.

This fic could have gone to multiple other squares, but I am not usually the kind of person who can quote lines from things, and I have many lines from this story committed to memory. I’ve read it multiple times, because I read it every time I need a pick-me-up or a good laugh. Or if I’ve read something scary and I need something lighter before I can actually get up and move around my house...

21. A fic that gave you butterflies

Pretty Much A Sex God by adellyna

Bandom ** Spencer/Jon ** 3,985 ** PG-13 ** No Warnings

Jon and Spencer’s first date.

The Jon in this story is so soft and warm and fluffy and his character makes my heart and stomach do weird things.

22. A fic that embodies something you value in life

A Marauder’s Plan by CatsAreCool (Rachel500)

Harry Potter ** Harry/Hermione ** 865,520 ** PG13 ** Violence/Death/Underage

What if Sirius decided to stay in England and deliver on his promise to raise Harry instead of hiding somewhere sunny? Changes abound with that one decision...

ALSO

Harry’s New Home by kbinnz

Harry Potter ** Gen ** 318,389 ** PG-13 ** Abuse

One lonely little boy. One snarky, grumpy git. When the safety of one was entrusted to the other, everyone knew this was not going to turn out well... Or was it? AU, sequel to "Harry's First Detention". 

In these two stories, Sirius and Severus throw everything they have into creating the best possible world for Harry, as he is their number one priority, because that is exactly how parenthood should be. 

23. A favourite AU

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 156,714 ** Explicit ** No Warnings

Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world?

This has got quite a bit of schmoop, which isn’t usually my thing, but this story is so, so good, and I always love stories that describe Sherlock realizing and appreciating how extraordinary John is.

24. A fic you stayed up too late to finish reading

Collared by VelvetMace

Sherlock ** Sherlock/John ** 83,028 ** Explicit ** Violence & Rape/Non-Con

In a world where the British Empire is still strong and slavery is her economic backbone, John has become a terrorist for the abolitionist movement. He is caught by Mycroft, enslaved, and given to Sherlock for training. The goal: To test a new kind of slave collar with the power to break even the strongest willed fighter. One that will make even John learn to love being a slave.

Dubious consent, and humiliation. I remember staying up very late reading this one, even though I had to work early the next morning. I just couldn’t put it down. 

25. A fic that made you feel seen

Buy Handmade by jjtaylor

Bandom ** Frank/Gerard ** 18,755 ** Mature ** No Warnings

He knows something else is going to happen; his life isn't always going to be this. He just doesn't know what has to happen for that change to come, for him to wake up and become an artist with an Etsy page and a home studio, and to never have to see a cubicle again.

This is the story of my heart. I have felt Frankie’s feelings and thought his thoughts, and I love that he does something about it, and I love Gerard so, so much. I first read this in 2009, and my love for it has never wavered. I could have used this one for a good half of the bingo squares, but it’s the only one that could go here.

[heechulhamster]

Speed Dial- Park Chanyeol

PARK CHANYEOL X READER

Angst, Fluff, College!AU

Trigger Warning: The character has anxiety and self harms. Do not read if you are triggered by any of those. Please. And if you experience such, remember that we are here for you. You matter, you’re important, you are loved. And don’t be afraid to seek professional help. Your feelings are valid, your thoughts matter, and you deserve to be heard.

It wasn’t something that’s easy to notice but Park Chanyeol had a very keen eye. Seeking something you made sure to be extremely obscure. If it wasn’t for the new rules of the laboratory you’ve been partners at, your secret would’ve been still safe. 

You’ve hidden your scars under the long sleeves of your jackets. The scars that have shown how you coped with the stress, the sudden flood of emotions, the pain that you thought you deserved. It was all a secret beneath a piece of cloth. But when your new Biology instructor changed the rules and regulations in the laboratory, that secret was at high risk to be revealed. 

Chanyeol always knew something was up with you. You’ve always been silent and reclusive, which most can mistake as you being aloof. But he was quick to sense that it wasn’t the case. Every Wednesday and Friday, he inched closer to your soul in little ways. He sparked short conversations prior to and after the said class. Random things from questions regarding your other classes or your upbringing, which you answered with a short and direct to the point reply. It was when he joked about the hair, or lack thereof, of your Biology instructor that he saw the first time you smiled. And it was the day he promised himself that he’d do anything to see it again. 

But after that day, the roller coaster ride that was your life had more downs than ups. The situation in your own family snowballed into problems that affected your daily life. You’ve been kept awake at night by the thoughts that flooded your mind. All the what could, what will, what ifs, and whys that rang like a morning bell never gave you rest. Reaching a point where you could only blame yourself, and you believe that you deserved the pain you inflicted yourself. 

You were able to conceal the truth under jackets for a good number of weeks. But when your professor said that you are only supposed to use the half sleeved white lab gowns during the hour, you knew that your partner was going to notice. 

It was the very same day that Chanyeol took notice of the pain you put yourself through. He was unsure if he should address the elephant in the room. It was surely a sore topic, so he tried to approach you as discreetly as he can. 

“What have you been up to lately?” Chanyeol blurted after the class was dismissed.

“Same old things, school, home, and re-runs of Gossip Girl.” You added a faint laugh. 

“Hmm, how about breaking the cycle? I’m gonna play on the nearby cafe tomorrow. I’d appreciate if you’d come!” He suggested, being his sunny, happy, self.

“I’ll try, Chanyeol. But I’ve been lagging behind schoolwork lately and I really need to catch up. Tell me the next time you’ll play okay?” You said with a small smile as you grabbed your bag and started walking. You felt a hand over your shoulder and looked back at your lab partner. 

“Don’t stress yourself too much, okay?” Chanyeol donned one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen. And you knew what exactly he was talking about. Of course he’s seen your arm when you held the microscope, how careless could you just be?

You were nervous of showing up that Friday. Someone already knew your secret, and he could easily report you to the guidance counselors. Just thinking about the endless interrogation about your current state, the invasion of your hard kept secrets, telling out the stories you never even wanted to experienced stressed the shit out of you. 

You tried to cover the lines on your wrists as much as possible on that span of two hours. You don’t even know why you still bothered when he already seen it. It was a manifestation of how anxious you just were. And another is that you covered the lines by habit.

The moment your professor dismissed the class, a small paper was beside your elbow. 

“Happy Hotline ^_^” followed by a phone number was written messily on the paper. You looked at the face of the source, you’ve been faced by the innocent smile yet again. 

“What’s this for?” You chuckled a little on his adorable demeanor. 

“It’s the happy hotline for you. If you need a little dose of cheering up.” You appreciated the effort he showed, but felt a little uneasy of your unusual behavior being the obvious reason that this was happening. 

“Chanyeol can we keep this thing a little secret between us two? I just don’t want being counseled - just the thought stresses me out and I.. and I...” You started spiraling into the panic vortex. ‘

An all too familiar hand touched your arm, “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, promise? Call me when it hits. Call me in the middle of the night, I won’t mind. Seriously. Wait - ah. Give me your phone.” Your phone was already on your hand and unlocked so it was easy for him to snatch it away. 

You saw Chanyeol type into the phone and he returned it in your hands afterwards. 

“I’m on speed dial. Just please, promise me. You’ll call okay?” He said with pleading eyes. Concern ridden in his face. 

“I don’t want to bother you.” 

“You won’t. Seeing that bothers me even more. Knowing that I could do something. Please, call.” At this point, both of Chanyeol’s hands were now situated on your arms. And you nodded, somehow you gravitated towards his warmth. His smile, his eyes that never failed to show emotions, his humor, maybe you needed a little bit of it in your life. 

You found yourself using the speed dial later that night. The wave of school works and the lack of sleep messed up with your hormones and you needed to calm down. You needed another voice to hear except the noise in your mind. You needed to lean on something before you collapse on your own. You needed Chanyeol.

“Hey, who’s this?” His voice resonated sweetly in your ears. You blushed at the thought that he picked up in less than three rings. 

“I figured that I needed a little bit of happiness..” You said with a smile on your face.

“Oh it’s you! I’m glad you called. I thought you’d just delete my number and mark me off as your weird lab partner for the rest of the semester.” He joked. 

“I think I’m the weirdo between us two. But yeah, I called so your number is still residing on my phone.” You chuckled. For whatever reason, his vibe was contagious. Chanyeol really deserved to be called a happy hotline because his jolly attitude just transmitted through the phone. You needed this, you needed someone to divert you from your dark thoughts. You needed someone to shed you some light. 

“So, what’s up?” He asked. And when it took you a minute or more to respond, Chanyeol realized that he pulled on the wrong strings and spoke once more. “What about I share first? You okay with listening on my endless chatter?” You laughed at his self deprecation, nodding on the other end of the line as if he’d see. 

He started telling stories about his last gig. How he cracked his voice due to the cold environment but ended up singing more songs. One topic led to another and it went to his favorite cartoon in childhood. Chanyeol cannot be stopped once he started sharing, and he was a delight to talk to for you. It was like he opened a new dimension with light, an area that you were eager to explore. Somehow the more he told about himself, the more you wanted to know. 

You looked at the clock and realized you’ve been talking for two hours non stop. You glanced on the paperwork that sat atop your desk and realized that you’ve been really slacking off, and the criticism you’ll give yourself afterwards would be worse if you don’t start accomplishing things now. 

“Hey, Yeol.” You started with the nickname he asked you to use. “I realized that we’ve been talking on the phone for hours now and I still have paperwork to do.” 

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for bothering.” He said with a concerned and guilty tone. 

“No, if anything it’s me that bothered you. I’m thankful for the good talk. Save your childhood stories for the next time okay, I want to hear more.” You could feel as if your wide smile, something that has been so rare on your face for the past few months, could rip your face in two. But again, Chanyeol had that effect. 

After a few goodbyes,you hung up the phone. And it was one of the nights that the noise in your mind has been silent, for all that rang in your head was Chanyeol’s laugh. How he giggled when he talked about his hobbies. His enthusiasm when he talked about the songs he’s written. 

It carried on for days, somehow calling Chanyeol has become part of your daily schedule. Sometime’s he’s the one who would initiate the call. You started opening up to him. There were nights where you were talking about trivial, yet happy things. But there was the inevitable moments where your thoughts got the best of you. You’d just cry on the phone as he listened, muttering a few assuring words and letting you speak. 

The Wednesdays and Fridays became the highlight of your dreadful week. The two hours of each day that you got to be together was like a safe time for you. Void of all the monsters in your head, as the hero who killed them for you was right by your side. And it gave birth to another monster, another voice that kept you awake. 

You knew that you were falling for your happy pill. It plagued your mind how his voice became your safety. How the late night calls became the reason you’re excited to wake up in the morning. And the way the dreadful Laboratory meetings became the best part of your week. 

The fear started building up, what if he was just doing this out of pity? Out of charity? That Chanyeol stuck with you because he saw the urgency in your eyes, in the lines that filled your wrists. But the moment you’re okay, he’ll realize that his act of kindness was over. You feared that moment. 

Yet you still found yourself on the University green house where he asked to meet you. He told you he was playing for a special audience and he wanted you to be there. But there was no audience there. The only sight to see was the lot of plants that blossomed in the glass covers, and the tall, handsome, sunshine of a man that sat on the bench with his guitar. 

You approached Chanyeol and laid your bag on the bench. 

“Where’s the audience? Don’t tell me they stood you up.” A hint of sadness in your voice. You know how passionate Chanyeol was about his music and the thought of him being stood up by an audience just made your mouth turn sour. 

“Nah, they’re here. They’re complete.” He said with a smile. 

You looked around, still no one there to accompany you two. 

“Uhm, Yeol there’s no one else here.”

“Exactly, you’re my special audience since you always concoct an excuse when I ask you to come to my shows.” You laughed with the guilt. 

He started playing a song, one that you knew because he put it in a playlist he sent you. It was Up&Up by Coldplay, one of his favorite bands. His voice wasn’t the best, but it was all you wanted to hear. You let yourself be lost in the sight and soud of Chanyeol, letting go of all worries that he might be aware of your feelings. This time you wanted to spoil yourself, indulge yourself in what makes you happy. And it was the man in front of you. 

“Thank you so much, Chanyeol.” You said the moment he finished his song. The smile after the bliss of performing still wandered in his face. 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. It was just what I wanted to do.” Somehow, you understood that he wasn’t just talking about playing a song. 

“But why? Why do this? Why carry my burden? Why me?” The questions flew out your mouth in a great speed you weren’t even able to control. 

“Because I want to.” He said in a matter of fact tone. 

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to help me, Yeol. I’m a mess, I’m a sad piece of failure that is unworthy, unlovable.” Your voice shattered in front of him. His smile slowly faded as his hand slowly find its way to yours. 

“Unlovable? Then tell me what’s wrong with me.” Your forehead formed a knot on his choice of words.

“Unworthy? I wouldn’t waste all my nights for something I don’t see worth in, you know. And if you feel as if you’re unlovable, I might have been doing a bad job.” A frown marked a place on what used to be a smile. 

“Chanyeol?” You asked, signaling him to clear up his point. 

But instead of using words, his lips formed another explanation when it landed on yours. His hands cupped your cheeks as he planted a soft kiss on your lips, moving sweetly and slowly, as if letting the motion make up for the lack of words in his explanation. You felt all the blood rise up your cheeks, this moment was one of the things that kept you awake at night. You wondered so much how it would feel, but now it was happening. 

Breathless, Chanyeol parted his lips from yours. “If you’re unlovable, how come I’ve fallen so madly inlove with you?” He said as he held your face and rested his forehead on yours. 

He slowly grabbed your hand and flipped it over, revealing the lines that held the place of what used to be your wounds. He brought it closer to his lips and chastely planted kisses on it. 

“I wanted to make this fade away. To help you forget the pain. I want to be there because I want to be with you. And you hurting yourself hurts me too.” His hand went back to your cheeks. 

“And I can feel it, that you feel it too. So just let me love you. Let me show you the things, the beautiful things I see in you.” And this time, it was your time to initiate the kiss. And it was an answer good enough for him. Because you were in a dark place, but Chanyeol was the one who shined the light back in your life. Chanyeol was your sunshine. And with that light, you felt saved. You felt loved.

[mateasers]

— Welcome to Wade, Illinois!

Voted “Best Place to Live” in some magazine circa 1974. It hasn’t changed much since, which might explain why it never made the list again. 

There are rows, and rows of homes that all look the same on each street. They all have vinyl siding, and they all have black mailboxes. The lawns are well taken care of, and the blinds are tightly shut. If you keep riding your bike from street, to street, you might begin to think you’re lost. Have I been here before? Did I make a wrong turn? You can’t tell. Everything looks the same. You can’t even pick out which house is yours anymore. It all looks the same. By some miracle you manage to get home just before it begins getting dark. Perfect timing. Your mother is happy about that, and she let’s you know, doting on you as soon as you walk through the door. People haven’t been staying out past dark since Josie went missing. Better safe than sorry.

Whenever you go into the grocery store you are assaulted by the bright, fluorescent lights that line the aisles, and by the girls you went to high school who never made anything of themselves. You two pretend that you don’t know each other’s names, but you shared a homeroom three years in a row. Your father used to work with her father, and so on, and so-forth. She checks you out wordlessly, with minimal if any eye contact, but you know she’s judging you for buying condoms when you’re not in a serious relationship. Either she’ll tell her mother, and the ladies who play bridge on Tuesday at Tanya Redding’s house will deem you some kind of hussy, or she’ll tell her girlfriends, and they’ll whisper other things about you when you pass by them at the mall. “Why buy something you don’t need?” Giggle, giggle. Those types of girls are always giggling. It’s a shallow, and an empty sound. There’s nothing behind it. You don’t stop them because that giggle is the only thing they’ve got. They’re rotting.

You run into your neighbor on your way home. You’re always running into your neighbor. She is simply unavoidable. You wonder if she waits by her window just to know when you step outside your door. She always has some type of plan to tell you, some kind of message to give your parents, some kind of condolence to give… Some kind of comment about the way you look. You wish she wouldn’t concern herself with any of it, especially with you. “That new haircut sure looks nice.” You know she doesn’t mean it. She’s always lying about stupid things like that. You wish she’d save her breath. Sometimes you wish she’d disappear. But don’t speak too soon, now, because you can’t take that back. And you’d hate to see her go the same way as Josie.

Speaking of Josie, the old men at the diner are talking about her again. They think she must have been in some kind of a cult, and they wonder if Red is a part of it, too. You wonder if they should be talking about the man in his own establishment. They certainly shouldn’t be doing it when he’s in earshot. They look down at their plates (meatloaf, it’s the special) with mild concern as to exactly WHAT type of meat they’re ingesting. For some reason, they don’t push their plates away in disgust, as you would expect, they simply keep on eating. You feel your stomach doing somersaults. You just came in for a coffee. You probably won’t eat anything at Red’s Diner ever again. On second thought, the pancakes, and sausage that the waitress is bringing to the next booth over look awfully good. And those rumors PROBABLY aren’t true, anyway.

 There’s a thirty year old man who works at the roller rink on the edge of town, and sells weed to kids behind the dumpster on the side. People talk about him like he’s some kind of legend because he procures the only thing that makes this town at least somewhat bearable for the restless youth. You think that pot is laced with something because they’re all so wild eyed. Their pupils turn to pin pricks, and they can barely form sentences when you try to speak to them. You can’t believe the police department hasn’t cracked down on this guy yet. What are they doing all day, twiddling their thumbs? 

Maybe if they worked a little harder, Josie wouldn’t have gone missing at all, and everyone in town wouldn’t be acting like they’ve got something to hide. Yes, this town is chock-full of people who you pretend you know like the back of your hand, but you’ve never really known them at all. You wonder if you even know your parents– as you sit across from them at the dinner table, and they’re wearing those tight-lipped grins again. You’re having meatloaf tonight, too. They tell you they love you, but it falls flat to the ear. You can’t tell if they were always like this: beautiful, but so two-dimensional, like cardboard cutouts. They don’t feel like real people. But then again, you’ve never left this town, you probably wouldn’t know a “real” person if you met one.

 A familiar feeling comes over you again, and you feel like you have to escape. You jump up from the dinner table, but your parents don’t budge. Your mother is staring straight ahead at your father, though she speaks directly to you without eve looking towards you, “… Won’t you say excuse me?” You practically want to scream, a real horror movie scream, but instead you say excuse me in a calm voice that you’re sure isn’t yours. The people in Wade have good old-fashioned American manners. You run towards the door, and you grab the keys to the used car you got for your sixteenth birthday. It’s raining out, and the station wagon stalls when you try to turn they key. It feels like a horror movie again, but there’s no one chasing you. At least from what you can see. You turn the key once more, and again, until finally the motor starts to hum. You breathe a sigh of relief, and begin backing out of the driveway, and onto the street. You’re certain you know the way to the highway, and you begin driving in that direction.

It’s nearly been two hours since you burst out of the house, and you still haven’t moved an inch. You swear you’re driving, but all you see are the same houses. You pass them, one by one, and than you pass your own. You make a left turn, you make a right turn, but you always end up back on your street. Why can’t you just leave? Chicago is only a couple of hours away, you could make it there by morning if you could just find the highway. After what feels like an eternity of driving, you turn back into your driveway. The light in the neighbors’ living room is on, and you can see something poking through the drapes. You know it’s her. When your eyes meet, she steps back quickly, out of embarrassment, you assume. She’s such a gossip. You know she’ll be talking about why you were out so late.

Your parents are still sitting at the dinner table when you enter the house. It’s nearly two in the morning, and they haven’t touched their plates. Tomorrow you’ll try leave again, but you never do.

                                                              ~

MIDDLE AMERICA is a literate, skeleton roleplay, which chronicles the lives of the all too normal residents of Wade, Illinois, a seemingly sleepy suburban town, practically set back in time, where nothing ever happens… except for when it does. The group will play heavily on the gothic, and science fiction genres—aiming to spook, confuse and thrill all those involved throughout the course of the gameplay. It is for this reason that the roleplay does not have a typical “plot line” as one might expect to see, where all the facts are laid out for writers – rather there will be a series of plot drops, and events as time goes on that will help everyone develop their own theories, and ideas as to what the hell is going on in Wade. The truth will slowly be revealed (or maybe it’s been there all along). 

WHEN WE BEGIN: As Middle America opens up, Wade can be thought of as your typical American small town. There aren’t many chain restaurants, or stores, and you have to drive about a half an hour to get to the nearest mall, or Walmart. Everyone knows their neighbors, and secrets aren’t exactly well kept. The town itself is a troupe, and its filled with characters that are heavily influenced by small-town-y troupes as well, so if you have any basic ideas about what the suburbs are like, you’ve basically got Wade nailed down. The houses are too close together, the people are highly critical of each other, and everyone is deeply invested in the “safety, and sanctity” of their neighborhood. Everyone’s itching to get out of town, and make something of themselves… But they never do. The most exciting news on any given day is typically what’s on the menu at the local diner, or some he-said/she-said story that one of the soccer mom’s has been telling anyone who’ll listen to her. 

Though in recent years, there have been some unsettling developments that have caused something of an outcry from longtime citizens of Wade, such as permits for building large, commercialized plazas, and exclusive housing communities. The average house in Wade is a moderately sized raised ranch, but with the influx of young, wealthy professionals, some “McMansions” of sorts have begun to spring up towards the outskirts of town. This has resulted in general discomfort on the part of older residents who are more set in their ways, and distrustful, and jealous of the upper crust. These newcomers are often blamed for the wide array of weird, creepy, and inexplicable things that have been taking place in Wade for the last year– all of which seem to have culminated in the death of Josie Johnson, a local town treasure, gone too soon.

She used to bake the best cherry pies, and give the warmest welcomes; she would even speak to complete strangers as if they were some of her oldest friends. The gruesome, almost unfathomable details of her death have left the people of Wade wondering whom they can trust, and how well they really know each other after all. It’s still very much the talk of the town, though it’s been a couple months now since her passing.

Before Josie’s death, there had been a few unusual occurrences as well, but those seem mild in comparison; however, in a dull town like this one, things like this are considered incredibly unnerving, and downright shocking. Days before Josie’s death someone drove their luxury car into the pharmacy because they fell asleep at the wheel, but had no memory of the incident when they were questioned, glowing eyes have been seen frequently spotted in the dead of night, and one of the three little Williams girls wandered off into the lake behind the recreation center, and nearly drown though she’d been taking swimming lessons for three months. Weirdest of all, only days before Josie’s death, one of Wade’s police officers was found dead in his car, in his garage in an apparent suicide with a singular hole to the head… a perfectly circular hole. Though ultimately the cause of death was determined to be carbon monoxide poisoning rather than a gunshot wound; his police issued weapon hadn’t been shot within twenty-four hours of his death, and wasn’t even in the car with him.

All undoubtedly STRANGE considering the craziest thing to happen in town prior to this year was a massage parlor on Main Street closed down for offering “happy endings” to its customers under the table in the late nineties. This is not to mention that some of the locals have been acting different, and calls about short disappearances of the same nature as Josie’s are coming in quicker than the police department can manage to investigate them. Everyone is constantly looking over his or her shoulder; everyone is suspicious of one, and other. Any irregular behavior, no matter how small, or how easily explainable could be misinterpreted as dangerous, and anyone may be written off as part of Wade’s “ great, big problem” so to speak. The town is truly on edge, and something has to give before it descends into utter chaos… unless it already has.

What is happening, and why it’s happening in Wade (or if ANYTHING is happening at all) remains to be seen. More answers will be coming throughout the course of game play. Patience, and curiosity is appreciated. 

[dramaplustautology]

Double Kill

I got Yuel from the SSR draw ticket from Guild Wars today and I wrote a small fic to celebrate! I’m so happy and I love Erune!Heroes.

The candy made a dull jingle inside its box as Ash sadly made his way to the inn. Hero’s Heart day prep had been fun, and he had appreciated the suggestion he got from the letter his mom sent him so much that he didn’t really think about…allergies? Was it right to call it an allergy?

“Ash, you know what can kill a dog?” Aria had asked him when he was stuffing pink and red grass into the box, cushioning the gift. “A big bite of chocolate.”

“Oh,” He had paused, feeling his heart sink into his stomach. “Ah well, that’s ok. I can just peel the chocolate off.”

“You know what else can kill a dog?”

“Not grapes?”

“Grapes.”

“Maybe Serenity can eat these with me,” Ash sighed, turning over the box of chocolate covered grapes. The kind innkeeper would surely like them. She was the one who picked out the green bunch and helped candy them after all.

Slinking through the door, Ash accidentally stepped into a flurry of soft black fur.

“I heard you! My radius is ten meters, remember?” Ty scolded him, circling so closely to him that her long tail wrapped around his legs. “What are you doing not sharing with your best friends?”

“Ty, don’t tease him so much!” Ryunn ran up to her friends, grabbing Ty’s shoulders. “Look at Ash. You’re giving him a fever!” She said, her own fluffy white tail curling around Ash’s stomach protectively.

It only served to wrinkle his clothes, swathe them in fur, and give him heat stroke.

Stammering, Ash held the box high above his head in the hopes that the two adventurers wouldn’t reach it.

Both of them were much taller than him of course.

“Huh, are you mad at me or something?” Ty asked, plucking the box right out of his hands. “That’s got my name on it and you’re giving it to Serenity?”

“N-no, that’s not it!” Ash shook his head, hopping to grab at the white box. He couldn’t jump far, with Ryunn’s tail securely keeping him grounded and got a face full of Ty’s tail for his efforts.

It wasn’t unpleasant but Ash wanted to cough and sneeze.

Elsewhere, underground and in some forest, the grinding of teeth drowned out every other noise.

“Then talk it out instead of flustering him so much.” Ryunn said, before Ty turned the box over to reveal her name.

“Look, he’s mad at you too.”

“Wait, are you?” Ryunn’s white ears and tail shot straight up and she practically tackled Ash into Ty’s back, sandwiching the unfortunate boy between them. When he tried to explain himself, a strange honk escaped his throat and paired with his tomato ripe face, Ryunn assumed rage. “You are! Was it because I overreacted when Aria asked if we hunt and eat Clawkins?”

Overreacting to Ryunn was her tail drooping and wrapping around her leg as Ash tried his hardest to not breathe like a weirdo. Then Aria got very angry for some reason.

“I actually might try to chew on one of those Clawkins one day. No one’s allowed to be fluffier than me,” Ty joked, undoing the gold ribbon on the box as her tail wrapped around Ash’s leg. “But first, I want a chew of this.”

“Buh?” Ash blinked, overwhelmed by the fluffy prison. “BUH-WAIT!”

“Oooh!” Ty’s tail wiggled in excitement, and she plucked a milk chocolate grape from its neatly trimmed stem. “Right, I can’t forget this is for both of us.” Reaching over Ash’s shoulder, she pushed the candy past Ryunn’s wobbling lip.

The chocolate skin cracked under one of her fangs when she chomped down in surprise.

Ryunn’s mouth twisted and a muffled scream suffocated behind her hands.

Ash’s own scream was far from muffled, and about broke the windows when Ty bit into a white chocolate grape.

“I’m dying!” Ty exclaimed. “This is really good, it’s killing me! How much was – You doing okay, Ash? Dead bodies look healthier than you right about now.”

Could dead bodies cry? The whiplash from the situation escalating so fast shoved Ash through all five stages of accepting death in rapid succession. His knees had buckled, and he was leaning against Ryunn’s shoulder for support.

“Mmm, they really are good,” Ryunn blushed, cupping her cheeks and chewing on the gummy for as long as she could. “But oh no, are you still mad at us? Ty, that’s wasn’t very nice!”

“B-but, dogs…” Ash let out a slow breath. “Is it safe for you to eat chocolate and grapes?”

“We’re erunes, not doggies,” Ty leaned her arm on Ash’s shoulder and held the open box of candies in front of him. “But just to be safe, give me another one so you can see,” Winking at Ryunn, Ty opened her mouth. “Ahh~”

“Hm?’ The joke Ty was trying to share bounced off of Ryunn’s head, but she really wanted another one too. “Uh, aaah~”

As Ash stood there dying, Nythera opened a window by her table so she would be able to leave without having to go past the mess at the front door. She would have ordered another coffee if Serenity wasn’t busy searching a closet for five lint rollers.

[hmhteen]

Cover (Re)reveal + HMH Teen Teaser: YOU OWE ME A MURDER by Eileen Cook!

Thrillers are the best at providing twisty endings you never saw coming...so it makes sense that YOU OWE ME A MURDER would start thrilling readers with a cover switcheroo! That’s right, this YA perfect for fans of GENUINE FRAUD and ONE OF US IS LYING has a new cover. 

And here’s a plot twist: in addition to sharing the cover below, we’re sharing an excerpt, too. 

***

ONE

AUGUST  15

16 DAYS REMAINING

I plotted murder in the Vancouver airport while waiting at gate D78 for my flight to London.

Based on the expressions of the people around me, I wasn’t the only one thinking of how to do someone in. Our flight was delayed and everyone was irritated and restless. The couple at the end of the row were fighting about which one of them had forgotten to lock the bedroom window before they left. Then there were at least a half-dozen people wanting to take out the toddler wearing the SpongeBob T-shirt, who vacillated between shrieking at a decibel normally used to torture dogs and running around slamming into everyone with his grimy hands.

The old guy across from me snarled, baring his yellowed teeth, every time the kid whirled in his direction. You’d think that would freak the toddler out, but it didn’t seem to make any impact. Maybe the little boy got his ability to ignore unpleasant things from his mom. She stared down at an issue of People magazine, her lips moving as she read, completely ignoring the fact that people in the gate area wanted to club her kid with their roller bags. The only way you knew it was her child was that when he would slam into her, she’d hold out a limp plastic baggie filled with rainbow-colored gummy worms and then drop one into his clutching hand. She was like an apathetic mama bird.

I tilted my head to the side to crack the tension in my neck. I wished I could block things out that well. Instead I found myself continually looking over at Connor. My back teeth clenched, tight enough to crack. Miriam was perched on his lap. I told myself to stop staring, but my attention kept being pulled back. He slid his hand under her shirt and rubbed her back in tight circles. I knew that move. He’d done that to me.

Before he’d dumped me.

Miriam ruffled his hair. He couldn’t stand it when I’d done that. He’d push my hand away or duck out of my reach. Connor had gone deaf after a bout of chicken pox as a kid and had cochlear implants so he could hear. He wore his hair a bit shaggy because he didn’t like to draw attention to the proces- sor behind his ears. I’d found it fascinating. Not just because it’s a pretty cool piece of tech, but also because I wanted to know how he felt going from a silent world to being able to hear. But he didn’t like to talk about it, or for me to touch his hair. 

Apparently, he didn’t have the same hang-up with Miriam. I reminded myself that I didn’t care. Connor meant nothing to me now. I swallowed hard.

Toddler SpongeBob slammed into me. His sticky fingers, streaked red and blue from the candy, clutched my jeans. He stared up at me with his watery eyes and then, without look- ing away, slowly lowered his drooling, slobbery mouth to my knee and bit me.

“Hey!” I shoved him hard without thinking. He teetered for a moment and then fell onto his giant padded diaper butt, letting out a cry. I glanced around guiltily, shame landing on my chest with a thud. His mother didn’t even look over. The old man gave me a thumbs-up gesture. Great — that’s me, Kim, the kind of person who beats up preschoolers when she’s not stalking her ex-boyfriend. I crouched down to help the kid up, but he pushed me away and returned to running wildly up and down the aisle.

I peered down at my phone, wishing I could call my best friend, Emily. She always knew how to cheer me up. She was spending the entire summer working at a camp on the far side of Vancouver Island. She didn’t have any cell service or WiFi, so there was going to be no quick “everything will be fine” text or call. Granted, if I’d been able to reach her earlier in the sum- mer, I might not even have been in this situation at all. Com- municating old school — by letters — might be vintage and nostalgic, but it does you no good when you have an emotional disaster that needs immediate BFF interaction.

We’d been friends since elementary school and this was the longest I’d ever gone without talking to her. So far, my summer was proof positive that I shouldn’t be allowed to handle things on my own. I fished the last card she’d sent me out of my bag. Inside she’d scribbled, “I know you can do this! Your trip’s going to be amazing!!” Emily never met an exclamation point that she didn’t like. Despite the positive punctuation, I was pretty sure she was wrong on both counts. I felt far from capable, and although the flight hadn’t even left, I already hated everything about this trip.

I took a deep breath, counting in for three and then letting it whoosh out. I can do this. I wasn’t going to let Emily and my parents down.

A few rows over, Miriam laughed, tossing her head back as if Connor had just told the best joke of all time. She playfully punched him in the chest with her tiny little hand. Everything about her was miniaturized. She told everyone she was five feet tall, but she was four eleven at best. She looked ridiculous when she stood next to Connor. He could have put her into his backpack and carried her around like a Chihuahua.

I had to admit Miriam was pretty, other than being freakishly petite. She had long dark hair that could have starred in a shampoo commercial. Her only flaw was that she wore too much eyeliner. She was addicted to the cat’s-eye look, accentuating the slant of her eyes. She had a flair for drama; she always made huge gestures, sweeping her arms around, flicking her hair over a shoulder, or talking loudly as if she was constantly trying to make sure everyone could hear her. She was in the theater crowd, so maybe she couldn’t help herself.

I never would have guessed Connor would date someone like her: showy. I thought he’d enjoyed that we didn’t always have to be talking, but if we did, it was about important stuff: Philosophy. Science. Politics. We met once at the coffee shop in the morning before work and split up the Globe and Mail, silently passing the newspaper sections back and forth. He was the only other person I knew besides me who liked to read an actual paper. I’d caught our reflection in the window and thought we looked like adults. Like people who lived in New York or Toronto, with important jobs, a fancy high-rise apart- ment with lots of glass and chrome, and a membership to the local art museum.

Miriam had no volume control, but she wasn’t stupid. I didn’t know her well — she hung with the drama crowd — but I wouldn’t have thought Connor was her type. I would have seen her liking a guy with an earring and some kind of social justice agenda. She wasn’t in the hard sciences but still took a bunch of AP courses. She’d written some paper on Shakespeare that won a national award for English geeks. No wonder I wanted to kill her.

I sighed. I didn’t want to kill her, I wanted to be her. Miriam hadn’t stolen Connor. Someone can’t steal what you don’t have. He didn’t dump me because he’d fallen for her. What had happened between us was complicated. More complicated than I even wanted to admit. He had his own reasons for stomping on my heart. If I was going to take anyone out, it should be him. But no matter whom I blamed, it didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t looking forward to spending the next few weeks watching the two of them make out in front of me. I shook my head to clear it. As everyone kept reminding me, it would be for only sixteen days.

I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see them, but I could still hear Miriam. Her drama teacher should be proud of how well Miriam’s voice carried. She was four feet eleven of all lungs. Her voice filled the entire gate area and spread down the hall like toxic lava. I could tell already that the sound would be like fingernails on a chalkboard by the end of the trip.

The worst part was that I’d pleaded to go. I told my parents if they let me attend, they’d never have to get me another gift. Once Connor had announced he was going — before we’d broken up — I’d been instantly consumed with images of the two of us walking hand in hand through narrow cobblestone streets. The program was advertised as if it were a great edu- cational opportunity, but the truth was, there weren’t any real demands. We’d be “exposed” to culture, as though it were a cold we could catch. I didn’t really care about the chance to travel, or what I might learn from the sights of London; what mattered was going with him. I didn’t want him to be away for almost three weeks, doing all these things without me. I loved the idea of starting school in September with the two of us chatting constantly about “remember the time we were in London?” until everyone around us was annoyed.

In retrospect, I know he wanted to come because he didn’t think I was going. He signed up without talking it over, telling me only after it was a done deal. I pleaded with my parents for days, never admitting that I wanted to go because of Connor and instead laying it on thick how it was a great way to expand my horizons, how amazing it would look on my university apps, and how I’d suddenly developed a fascination with British history, until they gave in.

Then, after things with Connor blew up in my face, I’d begged my parents to let me bail, but they wouldn’t budge. They insisted it wasn’t the deposit, it was the point. My dad called it a chance for me to “build character.” As far as he was concerned, Connor had never been worth my time. He made a snide comment about Connor’s overbite, which, coming from a dentist, was some serious trash talk.

My mom had made a dismissive sniff and told me “he’s not worth bothering over.” She acted as though she didn’t like him, but when I’d first told her about Connor, she’d been as excited as me. He was exactly the kind of boy she would have liked at my age, and the exact kind of boy she assumed would never know her awkward daughter even existed. She looked at me differently, as if her ugly duckling had finally hit possible swan status. We went shopping together and got matching hot pink mani-pedis. We’d never gotten along as well as we had for those few weeks.

Then when things went bad with him, my mom acted as if she were the one who’d been humiliated. She might have said she wanted me to go on the trip because it was a chance to travel, but she also wanted me to be the kind of person who held her head high to handle the situation the way she would have done. And I wanted to be that person too — the kind who would have a fantastic time regardless of a breakup and, by the end of the trip, see Connor desperately sorry he’d broken up with me. All while making a pack of new friends.

However, if I was going to go full fantasy, I might as well add in that the queen would invite me to the palace, and Will and Kate would ask me to baby-sit, and Harry and Meghan would offer to hook me up with some minor count or a duke. The truth was, the next few weeks were going to suck.

And I was going to be stuck strapped in directly behind the lovebirds for the entire flight, watching them crawl all over each other in the tiny coach seats. I squeezed my eyes shut as if I could block out the mental image playing on the big screen of my mind. I’d told myself a thousand times since we’d all checked in and I’d heard our seating assignments that I could handle this, but with every second that went by, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that I wouldn’t make it. I’d snap somewhere thirty-three thousand feet up and beat the two of them over the head with the in-flight magazine.

Or start crying again. I wasn’t sure which would be worse. You would think there was only so much crying a person could do before she got completely dehydrated. I’d told myself I couldn’t stand him anymore, so why did my heart still seize and my throat grow tight every time he was around?

I stood up so suddenly that my bag fell to the floor. I snatched it up and strode over to the airline counter. The gate agent didn’t look up. She was too preoccupied typing into her computer. Her fingernails, which had a thick layer of bright red gel polish, made a strange clacking sound on the keys. I cleared my throat, but she still didn’t stop.

“Excuse me,” I managed to get out before she held up a fin- ger to silence me.

She finally finished whatever she was doing and glanced up. “If you’re asking about the delay, I don’t have any more information. As soon as we get clearance, we’ll start boarding.” There was makeup creased on her forehead and I suspected she was on her last nerve. She was a walking reminder to never go into a customer service occupation.

I leaned forward even though logically I knew Connor couldn’t hear me from where he was sitting. “I wondered if I could change my seat?”

 She scrunched up her face. “I don’t think —”

“See the guy back there?” I yanked my head in Connor’s direction. “That’s my ex-boyfriend. We’re going to England on a travel program. I’m supposed to sit right behind him.” I paused. “For nine hours.”

Her perfectly arched eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she looked over my shoulder.

I sensed I was getting somewhere. “He was my first boyfriend.” My voice cracked and I had to swallow over and over to keep control. “He dumped me just a couple weeks ago.”

Her eyes softened, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but

I can’t —”

“That’s his new girlfriend. She used to be my best friend.” The gate agent sucked in a breath and looked over at Connor as though he were something she’d scraped off her shoe.

I felt bad as soon as the words were out of my mouth. Mir- iam and I had never even hung out before this trip, let alone been friends, but I needed the agent to help me. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

I don’t lie to hurt people, or to pull something over on them, but I guess sometimes I . . . make up stories to make myself more interesting. As long as I can remember, I’ve done it. On the playground in elementary school, I told the other kids that fairies lived in my backyard. In junior high I let everyone think I’d been adopted. I didn’t want to lie. I wanted to be normal and interesting, but I wasn’t.

I hadn’t lied with Connor. With him I’d been one hun- dred percent honest about my feelings, and look how that had turned out.

The agent clacked away on the computer. “Your name?” 

“Kim, Kim Maher.” I spelled my last name.

“I need your old boarding pass.” I slid the limp piece of paper across the counter. She tore it in half as the machine spat out a new one. She passed it over to me with a wink. “He doesn’t deserve you. Have a good trip.”

The tight band around my chest loosened. “Thanks.”

I wove through the crowd clustered around the gate and plopped back down in my seat. I pushed the New York Times I’d already read out of the way and pulled out the magazine I’d brought. I hid between the pages, blinking back tears. The gate agent was right. Connor didn’t deserve me. It was the same thing Emily told me. But even if I knew it was true, it didn’t hurt any less. All I had to do was figure out how to get my heart to catch up to the fact that my head didn’t like him anymore.

A girl slid a few seats over to be next to me. “Did she say anything about the delay?” Her English accent made me feel as if I’d dropped onto the set of a BBC historical drama.

I shook my head and quickly wiped my eyes so she wouldn’t notice the tears. “No news.”

The girl sighed. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She tugged the thin cream cashmere sweater sleeves over her hands. She glanced down at the stack of paper on the chair next to me. “Your Times?”

I nodded.

“Did you read the article about the changes to the space program? I saw it earlier this morning.”

I jumped slightly in surprise. She seemed like someone who would spot a copy of InStyle at a hundred meters but wouldn’t know a shuttle from a rocket if she were whacked across the face with one of them. “Uh-huh.” I picked up the paper, look- ing for the Science section.

“I think that’s what I like about a real paper,” she said. “It’s like a knowledge Easter egg hunt. You never know what you’re going to find.”

I nodded like a bobble-head doll. That was exactly why I

loved reading a paper too. “Yeah. Are you into space stuff?” She shrugged. “Just find it interesting.”

I held out my hand. “I’m Kim.”

“Nicki.” She smiled as we shook. “How come you aren’t hanging with the rest of your group?” She motioned to a cou- ple rows over. There were eight of us on the trip and we were all on this flight. A few had busted out cards to play a game on the blue carpeted floor, and the others were clustered around Jamal’s laptop checking out his music.

“How did you know —” I got out before she flicked the blue

and white student scholars for change tag attached to carryon. I’d forgotten I was branded. “Ah. I’m not really friends with any of them. There are just three of us from my high school. It’s complicated,” I said.

Nicki nodded. “Story of my life. I was here visiting my dad, and the reason he lives here, instead of in London with me and my mum, is all sorts of complicated too.”

Nicki tucked her hair behind her ears. Her bob wasn’t quite long enough, so as soon as she did, the hair fell free and swung forward again. “Sorry, that came out a bit pissy. I just find other people . . . ugh. I don’t know. Disappointing.” She shoved her hair back again.

“Story of my life,” I said, echoing her words. She laughed and it reminded me of scales on a piano.

Nicki tapped the robotics magazine on my lap. “You plan on going into robotics at uni?”

I shook my head. “Not sure. I’m leaning toward engineer- ing, maybe computers.”

She waited until an announcement about a flight to Phoe- nix stopped blaring on the PA. “I’m thinking psychology. I’m interested in research. This is my gap year.” She watched the unsupervised toddler fish a booger out of his nose and rub it into his hair.

“What kind of research?”

“Human behavior. I don’t have any interest in being a coun- selor. People blathering about their problems all day would drive me barmy. But I’m intrigued with why people do what they do, why they don’t do some things, what they could accomplish, that kind of thing.”

I traced the pattern in the carpet with my shoe. Under- standing other people was one of the great mysteries in my life. “If you ever figure people out, you’ll have to let me know what you discover. Math I can make sense of, but people are more confusing than quantum physics. Give me a robot any day.”

She laughed. “Don’t give up on humanity just yet. Maybe

you haven’t met anyone worth figuring out.”

The overhead speaker chirped to life. “Attention: Passen- gers on Air Canada flight 854 to London. Due to aircraft main- tenance issues, this flight will be further delayed. We apologize for the inconvenience.” The crowd groaned. The screen over our gate flickered and a new departure time, three hours from now, blinked on.

Connor stood and stretched. “Who wants to find a place to

watch the Whitecaps game?”

Our group began to gather up their stuff. He was like the pied piper of nerdy people. Everyone was willing to follow him. Miriam walked over toward me.

“Do you want to come?” she offered. Her legs were so small that her size extra small leggings were baggy around her thighs. She must buy her clothing in a kids’ department.

“No thanks,” I managed to say, willing her to walk away. Or

she could disappear completely — I was open to that, too.

“You can’t want to just hang around here for the next three hours.” Miriam nudged my tote with her foot. “C’mon, we’ll all get some fries or something. It’ll be fun.”

Fun wasn’t even in the top ten words that I would think of to describe the situation. “I’m fine,” I insisted. It was bad enough that Connor wanted nothing to do with me. It was worse that he started dating someone else right away. It was a nightmare that I was stuck on this trip with them. But her being nice to me was a layer of shit icing on this crap cupcake. I didn’t even know how much Connor had told her about what had happened between the two of us. I wasn’t sure what I preferred: that she knew and felt pity for me, or that he hadn’t told her anything because he didn’t think I was worth mentioning. I slouched lower in the seat.

“Leave it — she doesn’t want to come. Trust me, no one will miss her with that attitude.” Connor strode over and took Mir- iam’s hand without even glancing at me.

I flushed. He was right. I was a walking black cloud of doom. I hadn’t bothered to get to know anyone else coming on the trip and now I was going to be miserable and alone.

“Gawd, he’s a tosser,” Nicki said, loud enough to carry.

I wasn’t entirely certain what it meant, but it sounded both hysterical and insulting. I burst out laughing.

Connor and Miriam walked off down the hall, the rest of the group following behind them. He glanced over his shoulder at us, and when he saw we were still staring, he whirled back around.

My chest filled with air. I felt like one of those large balloons at a parade — ready to float away. “I don’t know what you said, but you’re my new favorite person on this planet,” I said. I meant it, too. My BFF couldn’t be reached except by letter. Emily might as well have been in space for all the help she could give me.

“That guy is a loser.” Nicki pulled me from my seat. “I can tell, because as we’ve already established, I study people. You can pay me back for correctly identifying him as a wanker by keeping me entertained for the next few hours.”

“How would you like me to do that?”

Nicki’s smile spread across her face. “We’re smart women, we’ll think of something.”

 TWO

AUGUST  15

Nicki stopped short outside the duty-free store, causing me to nearly slam into her back. She seemed entranced by the bright lights bouncing off a display of jewel-colored perfume bottles.

“Let’s go in here,” she said.

“They won’t have gum,” I noted. “There’s another store down just a bit further.” I pointed, but she’d already started to weave her way through the aisles. She randomly picked up items: a stuffed bear holding a satin heart, a giant Toblerone bar, and a box of washed-out pastel-colored saltwater taffy. She inspected each one as if she worked for quality control and then put each back down. I trailed after her.

My mouth still burned from the jalapeños I’d had at lunch. Nicki claimed the best thing to eat before a big flight was huevos rancheros. She insisted the combination of protein from the eggs and cheese, along with the spice from the salsa, would ensure a good sleep on the plane. When I pointed out the entrée wasn’t on the menu, she’d raised one perfectly tweezed eyebrow. “Ordering off the menu is for the common person,” she’d declared. When the waiter came over, she turned on the charm, and before I’d known what was happening, he dropped off two custom plates just for us. And she was right — the huge meal made me want a nap.

Nicki grabbed a stuffed zebra and gave it a squeeze. “Things like this make me wish I had a kid brother or sister. Let me guess, you’re an only child too.”

My mouth fell open. “How did you —”

“Only children are different. They have to amuse them- selves growing up. They’re independent, better problem solvers. There’s tons of research on it. I could tell by the way you’ve been talking. You’re just like me.”

Technically, I wasn’t just like her. I never knew what to say when people asked if I had any siblings. “About a half-dozen fully frozen” seemed too flip and required an explanation. Saying I was an only child felt like lying about the existence of my parents’ cryogenically suspended embryos. They were my brothers and sisters, just in cold storage in a medical lab.

My parents hadn’t had an easy time getting pregnant. Thanks to the fact that my mom was an early blogger, the whole world knew about their struggles. Then after three rounds of IVF, I took. My mom called me MBK on her blog — Miracle Baby Kim. She said she used the initials to protect my privacy, but how private could my life be when she plastered every one of my development milestones in cyberspace for the whole world to see?

Somewhere on the Internet there’s a picture of me as a three-year-old, wearing a tiara and giant pink fuzzy slippers, sitting on the toilet with the caption “MBK Finally Masters Potty Training!” The “finally” is a nice touch; nothing I like bet- ter than people thinking I was delayed in the hygiene depart- ment. My mom’s name was all over her blog; it didn’t exactly take a Mensa-level IQ to figure out that I was MBK. The truth was, she didn’t care how I felt about the blog. What she cared about were all the people who read it and gave her nonstop “you’re the best mom ever” feedback.

The year I turned ten, my mom wrote a long blog post where she announced to her legions of fans that she and my dad were officially giving up their efforts to have more children. They couldn’t keep up the nonstop cycles of IVF. It seemed Mother Nature didn’t have it in the plans for my mom to be the mother she wanted to be, with a minivan and the ability to construct something out of Legos while simultaneously preparing an organic dinner for her large happy family. And while she wanted to focus on her blessing (Beautiful MBK!), she could still grieve for what could have been and she would always see those frozen embryos as her babies. The Huffington Post picked up that blog post and ran it on their site. It’s one of their most downloaded pieces. They rerun it on Mother’s Day most years.

It was around that time that I started to become aware that I was a disappointment to my mom. When she’d imag- ined having children, none of them were like me. She wanted a daughter who liked to play with dolls and whom she’d punish with a wag of her finger, all while smiling at how adorable it was that I stole her makeup. My desire for tangle-free short hair and passion for books and blanket forts befuddled her. Why didn’t I want to skip rope outside with the other girls? Why didn’t I let her braid my hair into complicated patterns befitting a Disney princess? Why wasn’t I similar to her at all? How could she be a mothering expert when her own kid was so . . . awkward?

My mom was one of the first mommy bloggers. Thousands of people still read her site daily. They comment on her reci- pes (Super YUM Crock-Pot Meals!) and reviews of baby items (Bugaboo Strollers Worth Every Penny!). She’s blogged about how motherhood is hard and disappointing, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. I can’t be the only one who realizes that she’s trying to talk herself into that fact. I believe that my mom loves me, I just don’t think she likes me. If she’d had more kids, maybe it would have made a difference. I guess neither of us will ever know.

Nicki sniffed a bottle of Burberry Brit perfume and then spritzed a tiny bit on her wrist. She held out her arm for me and I leaned in.

“Nice,” I said, but she’d already moved on to the next display.

 She stared up at the tower of Grey Goose vodka. “Want some for the flight?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t think even you can talk this place into selling us booze.”

Nicki winked and I noticed she was wearing a hint of a shimmery eye shadow. “Who says they’re going to sell it?”

My heart picked up speed. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we were alone. “You’re going to steal it?” I asked, lowering my voice. My heart rabbited into overdrive.

“No, we’re going to steal it,” she said, her light brown eyes sparkling. “No one ever suspects the nicely dressed girl with a British accent. They think I’m too posh to sink to thievery.”

A swarm of spastic butterflies tried to take flight inside my lungs. I was pretty sure I didn’t look too posh to be arrested. “I don’t know . . .”

“Up to you.”

The chatter from the two clerks at the front of the store as they debated the merits of Ryan Reynolds seemed unnaturally loud to my ears. I bit the inside of my cheek. “What happens if we get caught?”

Nicki’s lips curled up, Grinch-like. “Bad things. That’s why we’ll do it so we don’t get caught.” Her head tilted slightly toward the bottles of booze. “They haven’t put on the plastic antitheft devices yet, and I don’t see any cameras.”

She was right. Every other bottle in the store had a black plastic disk attached around the neck, but the display of Grey Goose was naked. I could almost hear the angel and devil perched on my shoulders. One advising me to do the right thing and go on to the next store and buy a pack of Trident like a good girl, and the other telling me that it wouldn’t kill me to take a risk now and then. Where had playing it safe gotten me? I wanted to be someone else, anyone else. Maybe if I wanted to change the course of my life I needed to change the things I did. Be someone who did daring things, like Nicki.

“What do we do?” I whispered.

Nicki poked my leather tote bag. “When it’s time, grab the closest bottle and drop it in.”

“How will I know it’s time?”

She tapped me on the nose. “You’ll know because you’re smart.” She turned back to the perfume display and grabbed a small bottle. “I’m going to check the price — my mom loves this stuff.” She’d taken only a few steps when her foot hooked into the handles of a brightly colored canvas bag stamped with a maple leaf and the words canada forever, sitting on the floor among other similar bags.

I opened my mouth to warn her, but she’d already jerked forward with a loud oomph. Her arms flew up as she fell and the bottle of perfume collided with the ground with a brittle smash. A cloud of a citrus and musk scent filled the air. The clerks flew to her side.

I was about to do the same when I realized this was it. My hand jerked out as if it were under the authority of another force and yanked a bottle of vodka off the display, plopping it into my tote. I jammed my elbow over the top of the bag to pinch it shut and hustled to where Nicki was now standing between the two clerks. My heart beat out of control.

“Are you okay?” I asked, surprised that my voice didn’t crack with the electric tension filling every inch of my body, zapping down my nerves, lighting me up from the inside.

“I’m okay. I think.” Nicki looked down at the broken glass on the floor and her eyes widened. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“You’ll have to pay for the perfume.” The tall clerk pointed to a you break it, you buy it sign by the entrance.

Nicki drew herself even straighter. “But I wasn’t being careless. I tripped on your bags, which were all over the floor.” The mouth on the tall clerk pressed into a tight line, like a slash across her face. “If you don’t pay for it, we have to call a manager.”

Panic flashed like a bright white light. I had to do something. I kicked the canvas bags now strewn across the floor. “You should call a supervisor. Maybe if you hadn’t been so busy talking, and instead had straightened up this mess, it wouldn’t have happened at all. You know, if she’s hurt, you’re liable. My dad’s a lawyer — he deals with this stuff all the time.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to swallow them back down. I hoped I was right. My dad was a dentist. Any legal knowledge I had was from watching The People’s Court when I stayed home sick from school. What had I done?

Nicki’s lip twitched. “Now that I think about it, my back is quite sore. I hit the floor pretty hard.” She rubbed the base of her spine.

The tall clerk looked ready to clobber Nicki, but the shorter woman with her hair tied up in a mountain of tiny braids put her hand lightly on the arm of the other. “We’re certainly sorry you fell.”

Nicki met her gaze. “And I’m sorry that the bottle broke.” The short clerk smiled, her white teeth as bright as the wall

tiles. “Well then, why don’t we just decide that no harm’s been done?” The tension that had been coiling inside me released.

“Are you sure?” Nicki asked. Her eyes were so wide, she looked like an anime character. When the clerk nodded, Nicki reached for me. “We should get back; our flight will be leaving soon.”

I nodded solemnly as if I were very concerned about time- liness. Every muscle in my body clenched as I walked over the threshold, anticipating a piercing alarm going off, but nothing happened. Nicki gripped my elbow. “Don’t look back. Only guilty people look behind them.”

My neck stiffened and I kept moving forward down the hall. The adrenaline that had rushed through my system seconds ago was now bailing ship and I felt lightheaded. My bag weighed a hundred pounds. I half expected every person we passed to develop x-ray vision, see through my tote, and point me out as a shoplifter. Nicki seemed to sense I was barely hold- ing it together, and she pulled me along until we reached an empty gate area. We both started giggling as we dropped into a row of seats.

“I can’t believe I did that,” I said. I opened the bag expecting the vodka to be missing, a figment of my imagination, but the bottle was there. I glanced quickly at Nicki to see if she was impressed that I’d actually done it.

“Since we’re headed to England it would have been more fitting to have nicked some gin, but a girl has to work with the opportunities she’s got.” Nicki patted the side of my leather bag. “You were perfect. When you said that line about how I could sue them, I wanted to cheer.”

I shook my head. “Are you kidding? As soon as I took the bottle, all I wanted to do was run for it. I felt like I was going to freak out at any moment.”

She laughed. “But you didn’t. Being good at something doesn’t mean that it isn’t hard or scary — it just means that you keep moving forward when other people quit.”

I laughed. “I tend to be a quitter. I’m scared of everything.” “Like what?”

I rolled my eyes. “I could make a list a mile long. For start- ers, I’m terrified of heights. I won’t even go to my grandparents’ new condo in Miami because they live on the twentieth floor. Usually when things scare me, I’m the first one to bail. I won’t go skiing, kayaking, or anyplace that looks like it will have spiders, and I get hives when I have to go to the dentist and my dad’s a dentist.”

Nicki wrinkled up her nose. “Now, I get the dentist phobia, but heights? If you’re going to be scared, be scared of something good.” She laughed. “You were scared to take the liquor, but you did it. That’s the difference between ordinary people and extraordinary. Extraordinary people might be afraid, but they do it anyway.”

My chin lifted slightly in the air. The shame over stealing was mixed up with pride in doing something risky. I wanted to brag about what I’d done and apologize all at the same time. Most of all I wanted her to keep talking. “I still can’t believe I did that,” I said. I wanted her to understand I wasn’t some- one who did things like this. Heck, I wasn’t someone who did things at all, but maybe it was as simple as deciding that I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

Nicki threw an arm around me and gave me a half hug. “Think about it. I wonder what you might do if you let yourself really go? You know, every accomplishment starts with the decision to try. And then keep trying, even when it’s hard.” She smirked. “And of course, if life gives you an opportunity, take it before it disappears. Or at least before they put the antitheft device on it.”

I packed up what she said and placed it carefully into my memory. It struck me that her advice was important. Not because I wanted to become a master criminal — I felt bad about taking the booze and couldn’t imagine doing it again. But . . . I liked that I’d done it at least once. Been like Nicki. Daring. Not afraid. She seemed to have figured out the secret to life. All the brochures for the Student Scholars program had stressed how travel made a person grow. I’d secretly thought it was a bunch of marketing bullshit. How could a change in geography make a difference? But maybe it was possible: I could evolve into someone else. I could almost picture my mom’s approval . . . and the blog post she’d write about it.

The public-address system squawked and announced that our flight would start boarding. I couldn’t believe how the three hours had flown by. I pulled the bottle slightly out of the bag. “Do you want this?”

“You keep it. I don’t know the whole story with the guy and girl back at the gate, but I suspect you need it more than me.” She pushed herself up from the seat with a ladylike grunt. “We should get going. I still want to get that gum.”

I reached for her arm before she started to walk away. “Thanks. I was feeling really down before.”

“That’s what friends are for!” She poked me in the side as if I were being silly.

“Well, I appreciate you making me a friend after only a few hours.”

Nicki smiled. “Don’t you know? I decided we were friends the instant we met.”

***

YOU OWE ME A MURDER will be available on 3.12.19! Pre-order from any of the links below.

Amazon

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IndieBound

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[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 20 (light fluff)

Warning: harsh language, violence

I had just arrived at the hospital when my phone rang. I turned it off without looking, being in a hospital, and all, which was a very stupid mistake. I visited Bee and sat with her for an hour, talking about this and that, and left her in a much better state than she had been in yesterday. There had been no news from the police (and I very much doubted they’d be actually able to catch the culprits), but she didn’t seem to care too much.

“It’s not the first time I start over, you know”, she had said, and given me one of her mischievous smiles.  But she still got drowsy pretty quickly from the meds, so I didn’t have a guilty consciousness when I left her that early.

When I started my phone I saw I had about 35 missed calls from Penny. I phoned him back, but apparently he didn’t have a signal. He had just written me a message that he was in the cistern. I headed there as fast as I could, and arrived at the place where it all started covered in dirt (because of course I had to slip a couple of times), with gashes all over my arms and faces (hugged some trees too) and completely out of breath.

As soon as I could I screamed for him, increasingly worried something might have happened to him. My voice echoed through the large cistern, jumping between the piles of junk, and mingled with the clouds of white breath as I kept on huffing. I didn’t see him, but once the echo died out I heard noises behind the huge pile in the middle of the cistern. Relieved, I started to make my way over the discarded items, shifting them around to avoid tripping once more. But, once I got to the other side, there was no one there.

“Pennywise?”, I shouted again. Still, there was no answer, but the noises grew louder. I turned toward the garbage mountain, and briefly noticed a large wooden screen. It bore fading letters and a portrait, but before I could read them it fell forwards, revealing a stage with some fiery backgrounds. Merry organ music started to play and fireworks went off, adding their own rhythm to the creepy melody. And then he jumped on the stage, dancing around while his eyes looked crazier than I ever had seen them before. He cackled and giggled, shaking his head, waving at me, and performed some sort of jig. Faster and faster did the music play, faster and faster he went.

Then he lunged at me.

“Penny, are you okay?”, I managed to gasp as he picked me up and started  swinging us around in a tempo that could rival any roller coaster.

He laughed in my ear. “Don’t you know I’m the dancing clown?”

“Well, that’s how you introduced yourself to me…”

He only stopped briefly to gently place me on my old favorite spot, before he took up jumping around like crazy. Of course he splashed me from head to toe. By now he was going so fast he almost seemed to blur.

“What’s the matter with you? Are you sure you are okay?” I mean, he was laughing and all, but there definitely was something else going on.

“I am lightning, I am speed. I am everything you need”, he sang with a cracking, high-pitched voice, once more increasing his pace. “Try to catch me; no, you won’t. Now you see me, now you…”

All of a sudden he was gone.

“Don’t!”

Before I could react his arms wrapped around me, squeezing me so hard I could no longer breathe, and hurled me around once more. If he kept on going I’d throw up for sure.

“Pennywise! I’m worrying here.”

“My little human pet is worrying, how cuuuuuu~te!”

“Was it that meat I gave you? Are you having some sort of allergic reaction to it?”

“Oh, it was boooooring. But eadible. But booooooring!”

“Okay, well, please let me down then, I’m gonna…”

Too late.

But it made him stop, and he steadied me while I was retching.

“My poor baby’s sick”, he crooned, “Pennywise was bad, Pennywise must be punished.”

I would have loved to tell him to stop that nonsense, but my mouth was still busy with other things. I couldn’t even shake my head. He kept on blaming himself, and the minute I was done he started running around again, rambling about proper punishments.

“There’s no need for any of that”, I assured him. “Just tell me why you are so jittery. I’m worried it might from some stuff in the meat (it’s not exactly high quality). Have you ever had problems with junkies?” He technically hadn’t confirmed that he actually ATE humans, but I was 99.9 percent sure he did, so there was no point sugarcoating it.

He shook his head so quickly I could see nothing but a red streak.

“Nonono, never had a problem. I’m fast. I’m superfast. I’msofastmygirldoen’tevenunderstandhaha…” He spoke so fast his words slurred together until his speech resembled a monotone hum.

“Well, did you like it, then? Are you less hungry?”, I interrupted.

“Hunger never goes away, little one.” His eyes flashed yellow as he stared at me.

“Well, what else could it be?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just reallyfastreallyreallyfast…”

Here we go again. By now he was shifting forms again, and it was fascinating to watch. Tentacles blossomed on his face, which in turn grew thorns as they slithered all around him. Fins in all colors popped up.  His hands changed to furry claws, only to be replaced by pinchers in the next second. He grew extra legs that suddenly became skinny wings. It was absolutely mesmerizing and distracted me for several minutes.

But when he trampled over the empty white boxes, I was reminded of the problem at hand. An idea crossed my mind.

“Penny, could it be… that the mocca was too strong for you?”

He stopped dead, the horns slowly retracting into his forehead again.

“Nononono. Impossible. It was delicious.”

“You just had one, though, right? I mean, caffeine shouldn’t have so much impact on you…”

My voice trailed away as I stared at Penny. He had cast down his eyes and a little wrinkle had formed between the two indentions that replaced his eyebrows. He definitely looked guilty.

I mustered all my strength, straightened my back and asked him with the severest voice I could muster: “Pennywise? What did you do while I was at the hospital?”

He mumbled something.

“A little louder, please.”

“I went back to that room…”

“And?”

“Had more?”

I stared at him. He had actually gone back to the coffee shop? What had he done to the employees? And how did he pay? In response a hundred-dollar-bill appeared in his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He held out the bill to me, and I took it. It looked, felt and smelled like real money to me. The cistern started spinning around me.

Penny was able to produce money.

What. The. Heck.

Something like a whimper escaped his mouth. He very much reminded me of a puppy that had been caught doing something forbidden.

“I had another 40”, he finally admitted.

I had to clutch at the junk next to me to keep myself steady.

“YOU DRANK 40 CUPS OF MOCCHA!?”

He just nodded, quick enough to once more blur into a red streak.

“Jeez, you do realize that you would be in hospital now if you were human, do you?”

I pressed my hands into my temples. Apparently immortals do not differ that much from us after all. Pennywise just had a real bad caffeine high.

“Okay, listen, that’s the caffeine from the coffee. That’s why we drink it in the first place – it gives you energy and wakes you up. That’s why you feel so… fast, do you understand?” I sighed. “There’ll be no other choice then to wait till the effects wear off.”

He nodded, looking slightly relieved I was no longer yelling at him.

So I spent the next two hours in the cistern with a Pennywise on speed (well, not exactly). He continued jumping around, dancing and singing. (Something about blood on the streets, and yummy kids, and about coming to get me – I didn’t listen to intently.) At least he didn’t spin me around again, but he came up to cuddle for several seconds before running off to use his extra energy. He rearranged some piles of the junk (meaning he turned into different creatures and wrecking through them), tried playing one of the games on my phone, asked me to read to him, and then, when I finally found a book amongst the trash, he was running around again.

It was exhausting, and not really in a good way either.

When he finally seemed to calm down for a bit, I invited him over to my house. Auntie wouldn’t come home till midnight, so there was no worrying about a second take on the embarrassing morning  meeting. Penny was really eager to hang out in my room again, and so we were on our way.

By the time we reached our little house ( he had assumed his human form again, though very grudgily), the last effects wore off. He collapsed on my bed, not exactly changing form, more like slowly melting out of it, and sighed.

“I think I’m dying, little one.”

“No, you’re not. That’s just the caffeine going away. You’re probably very tired now”, I chided gently. He looked at me sadly, entirely unconvinced this wouldn’t be the end of his existence. I cuddled up next him and started stroking his cheek.

“But that’s a good way to die”, he purred and leaned into my hand.

“You’re not dying, silly, You can’t, right? You are a part of Derry.”

I wasn’t exactly sure where that came from, but it just felt true. Penny closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around me. In the warmth of his embrace I drifted away into comforting darkness.

The next chapter will be a long one, I promise!

[lalast0ne]

The bad penny

Layla

*Sin City was definitely living up to its name. Our first night in Vegas had been one I’d never forget .. what I could remember of it. After leaving the “Art Gallery” which I’ve decided was not a legit gallery at all, we hit the shops then made our way back to the hotel room to get ready. With the key safely deposited in the safe, we headed out for dinner. Tao was amazing, the service, the atmosphere and the food. After dinner we paid well over the odds for a 5 minute ride in a gondola thru the Venetian then made our way to the hotel casino. Judging by the pounding of my head this morning we were in the casino a looooong time.  The last thing I properly remember is Wilder tugging me to the high roller section .. after that it becomes hazy. I look towards the bathroom where the sound of the shower running and singing can be heard which makes me smile as I collapse back into the pillows groaning. The fact he’s in a seemingly good mood must mean he beat the house. Thank God. I look around the enormous room, my eyes landing on the safe. The safe that houses the most expensive key known to man and a flurry of questions rush thru my mind. We didn’t discuss it last night, I refused to taint our first night with talk of business (which is exactly what that was) and Wilder wasn’t forthcoming with the information, so I still remained clueless. I just couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing ...*

Wilder

*Vegas was growing on me. I had won big last night. At the tables and with my wife. I knew her mind was working in over drive but sometimes it was best to leave her guessing. All would be revealed in time. I towel dry, got dressed and stepped from the bathroom to find her lazy ass still in bed* Little Ball of Fire, time to get ready for the day. We have Vegas shit to do. I know you have things you would like to see that I ruined yesterday. *Smirking, I check the time.* You have 15 minutes or the party bus is leaving without you. No aquarium though. That’s not Vegas. *I pour a cup of coffee and wait as you scramble from the bed.* Make that 14 minutes.

Layla

*I see the way you look at me and know exactly what you’re waiting for my body isn’t ready to move at a fast pace yet .. I don’t even think it’s ready to move. I roll from the bed, my shoulders dropped slightly and my walk slow as I head to the bathroom* You’re so mean to me .. always putting me on a timer. How are you not feeling like shit this morning? I’m sure you drank just as much as, if not more than, me. *I step into the shower and wince as the water hits me, the cold feels like a thousand needles pricking my skin until it warms up and I relax a little. Even with no intention of rushing, I shower as quickly as possible then emerge feeling a little fresher.* I swear I’m never drinking again .. *I mumble as I pass by your to the closet and roll my eyes when you tap the face of your watch. I don’t waste anytime messing around. I slip into comfortable clothes and a pair of sneakers, tying my still wet hair back out of my face and stand in front of you and shudder as I say what I’m thinking.* Please don’t tell me today’s the day we’re going up the Stratosphere...

Wilder

*I finish the last of my coffee and eye you up and down.* Is that what you are wearing today? You should have switched to ginger ale after the first drink like I did. *I avoid the death glare you are giving me and hold the door open.* Was the Stratosphere not on your list? I’m catering to all things Layla today so smile Little Ball of Fire. You don’t always get me so accommodating so I recommend you take advantage.

Layla

*My eyes narrow at your treachery. If I’d known you’d switched to ginger ale I’d have made my cocktails virgin. I cover my mouth at the thought* What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? *I look down at my t-shirt, shorts and sneakers then back to you* Comfort is the aim of the game today, husband. And while the Stratosphere is on my list, I don’t think the people on the rides, or the good people of Vegas standing below, want to see the contents of my stomach. *I move to where you sit and position myself between your legs, my fingers teasing thru your hair* We can make our way to old Vegas this morning. Go to Fremont Street and check out the Mob museum?

Wilder

I don’t care to see a jail cell if you throw up on people and we need to fight. *I laugh and lift you up, taking long strides to leave our room.* First lets get some food in you to soak up all the alcohol and then find some mobs. Maybe if you are lucky, we can buy that thing you could not stop staring at last night. *The elevator takes us down and I keep a tight grip on your hand.* Don’t take any of those cards people try to hand you. We are not hitting up those places here.

Layla

*I wrap my legs around your waist and bury my face in your neck, humming softly as you walk us to the elevator. My feet hit the floor when the doors open and I pout at the loss of contact until your hand is on my hip and your pulling me close* I don’t think they’re for places to go .. I think they’re for girls *Chuckles* to come to your room .. so don’t you be taking any of those cards Mr *I reach down and pinch your cheek, laughing softly as the doors open* I hear Serendipity do the most amazing pancakes .. let’s head there .. because now I honestly feel like I could eat a horse.

Wilder

I think they cater to all baby girl. No discrimination. *I growl against your ear and head in the direction of pancakes, my hand firmly gripping your ass. Vegas might be growing on me but I will never understand the lengths one city goes through to steal your money and make you lose your entire life. I can do that in a heartbeat back home and feel no guilt. You will be as rich going in the ground as you were above. Life really is simple.* We should take in that volcano show tonight. Feel the heat from that fire. *Smirks as we stop at the restaurant and wait to be seated.*

Layla

If you want heat .. I can got you hot under the collar, baby *I smirk across to you as we stand and wait (im)patiently to be seated. I grab my stomach as it grumbles and thank the Lord, 10 minutes later, when we’re finally shown to a table for two on the terrace. Before the waitress can even ask if we know what we like, we’re reeling off our order and handing back the menus she’s just given us. I cross my arms and lean forward slightly, grinning at you as I admire the sight of Caesar’s Palace behind you* So what are your thoughts of Vegas so far, husband? Are you enjoying it?

Wilder

*My eyes cut in every direction since our chairs are out in the open on the terrace and I can’t see who is approaching from behind, landing back on yours. I reach up and flick your nose playfully.* It’s loud, dirty, has this smell you can’t wash off, everything is way too big. I think I would need need to see the seedy side before I can give you my honest opinion. It might be ok. *I lean back as the waitress brings our drinks, nodding my hand in thanks.* What is your opinion of all this sin?

Layla

*I laugh when you give me your opinion, not at all surprised, then smile at the waitress when she places our drinks on the table. I load my coffee wit way too much sugar and take a satisfying sip, smiling with I feel the caffeine taking immediate effect* This world of sin ... I love it. I couldn’t live here but for a trip, I’d happily return a couple of times a year. Whether Vegas would let us return .. well that remains to be seen *i smirk at you over the top of my cup*

Wilder

*My head falls back, booming laughter filling the terrace.* Mrs. Steele, I don’t know why you assume I will get us kicked out this city or even state. I have been on my best behavior. *I lower my voice.* I have not felt the need to pull my knife even once. I would say that is a record but the day is still young. I make no promises.

Layla

*I laugh and shake my head at your declaration* we’ve not been here 48 hours yet, there’s plenty of time for us to get thrown out. *I lean in and whisper back to you* Please try to keep your knife in your boot *I sit back when the waitress approaches with our food and thank her as she places the hugest plate of pancakes down in front of me, then look back to you* for a little longer, at least.

Wilder

You have my promise Fire. No knife will come out of my boot while we are here. *Stabs a huge bite of pancakes and shoves it in my mouth, not promising about the knife in the back of my pants.* I’m being accommodating remember. *My eye catches a profile that seems familiar as I continue to eat.*

Layla

So accommodating that you’ll even agree to come to the aquarium *I smirk taking a mouthful of pancake, nodding my head* Such a good husband. *My smile falters when I lose you for a moment, your eyes widening slightly when you clearly see something. I turn my head in the same direction and search the crowd to see what you’ve spotted and then I do.* What the hell ...  *My head spins back and my mouth goes dry, the pancake suddenly feeling like I’m chewing cardboard* Is that ..?

Wilder

Carlos. All the way out here. *My fork drops to my plate and I push back from my chair. I stand to my full height and make my way across to the terrace and his table. He gives me his eat shit grin as I stare him down. My jaw clenched and I crack my knuckles to form a fist.* You are always one step behind Carlos. I already have what you are looking for. You can scurry back into your hole with your tail between your legs.

Layla

*I follow behind you and grab your hand, aware of eyes on us and not just Carlos’s* Wilder ... maybe we should take this somewhere a little less ..

“Well, what a pleasant surprise this is” He waves his hand away dismissively as I try to pull you away “Now now Mrs. Steele, there’s no need for that. We’re all friends here, Won’t you both join me? We can discuss ... business.” He smirks as he sips his coffee.

*I scowl, and it’s not a playful one, at the man who has just ruined this entire trip.* No, thank you. We have our own table that we should be getting back to. *I tug on your hand again a little more forcefully*  Wilder ..

Wilder

You are a fucking asshole. *My words not loud enough for anyone else to hear.* I’ve played nice but not anymore. I will run you from this town and mine. *I take Layla’s hand and we head back to our table, sitting down. I slice through my pancake like I would the skin on his body and shovel another bite in my mouth. Trying to ignore the annoyance of his appearance.* Let’s forget about him Layla.

Layla

*i don’t look back when you take my hand and pull me away. Your words make me smile though when I take my seat and watch you* I don’t think I’m the one who needs to forget about him *I sit forward and lower my voice* but why the he’ll is he here? Now? The same time we’re here. That’s not a coincidence is it. *Its not a question, it’s a statement.*

Wilder

It’s Carlos. He is a thorn in my side. *I snag a piece of bacon from your plate, a smirk growing across my face.* Plus I got what he came here for. The key.....

[from-red-string]

Goodbye

Lutteo ficweek - Day 1

Hey! I hope you enjoy it.

Ps: Aleja @silveranchor thank you so much! You are incredible 💛

For a full experience: You can read while you listen to this.

Prompt: It’s raining and you forgot your umbrella so I offered for us to share but this was a mistake because you’re tall and I’m not and the wind is blowing water in my face and goddamit get down here.

What was I think when I offered for us to share the umbrella?

Matteo is gigantic and I’m just a normal sized person. Okay, it’s the other way around, he is average height and I’m bit below average. Anyway, I’m getting wet holding the umbrella above Matteo’s head: it is too high for protecting me from the water.

The wind is blowing it right on me, not even my face is safe, and Matteo can’t notice because he doesn’t look at me. We are awkward with each other. To say we aren’t on good terms would be to say too little. The start of our ending was when his father stated he wouldn’t support some wanderer dreamer. This changed Matteo’s whole life; he started working at Jam & Roller and moved in with Simón. In the beginning, it was pretty fun, we’d loved spending so much time together. Although, we forgot you can’t change your whole life and still be the same living it.

That came unexpectedly. After a while, everything around Matteo was gray and miserable, nothing was able of making Matteo’s smile appear. He trapped himself within so many barriers, soon, it was impossible to reach him.

Matteo doesn’t show his real feelings for anyone anymore, just how hugely annoyed he is by your presence. He wore a mask, faking every day. I know him well enough to know that the main reason for this huge act is that Matteo misses his family, which is perfectly normal, but he doesn’t admit it is happening to him. His mask didn’t take long to began to crack, all the pretense failing, he began to easily lose his calm with both customers and friends.

It was unbearable, we couldn’t be in the same room for long without yelling and hurting each other. Matteo stopped messaging me and I stopped calling him. We skated one last time, but Matteo seemed to have lost all his rhythm, his swing, his love.

Our last date was sorrowful. We were supposed to chill, Netflix and pizza, we were trying to save our relationship, but the two of us were so full of grief. The love we felt was lost in all the soreness we were feeling.

We collapsed.

“Life is not a dream, Luna. It’s childish of you to believe something will happen just because you want it so bad.” That was the last thing I heard from him that night.

After that, I ran from the apartment. I was suffocating being the same room as him and only distance could make me breathe properly. I was crying, blubbering on the sidewalk.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. He is making his life miserable and pushing everyone out. I couldn’t stand watching him destroying his life.

I’m so useless next to him.

That was our end.

But our breakup wasn’t the last time I saw him, we kept working in Jam & Roller, so we saw each other every day. Painfully, the following days were easier to work with him, our break up made his mood a bit better, his calm improved or at least that was what I thought because, some days after, he proved me wrong.

He provoked his dismissal by throwing a smoothie on Ámbar on purpose.He did that, then walked out of Jam & Roller, without saying a word.

“I only asked how this dumb was doing today!” Ámbar complained, whipping the smoothie away from her hair. I didn’t believe it was just that.

“Yes, he lost control at the question,” Nina confirmed, shocked. I sighed; it was only a greeting and he blew up. After a while, Nina pulled me a side. “Luna, he didn’t seem sober.”

Only hearing this phrase was already enough to make me go crazy with worry about him.

A fact about my feelings for Matteo: they didn’t change too much, I still worry about him, I still like him, I still want him around and  I don’t want to forget what we had, or him. The thing is, I missed him.

Simón assured me Matteo was fine later that day.

“He wanted that, Luna.” Simón comforted me through the phone. “Matteo need some space.”

“Matteo will move out?” I asked, shocked, as he finished his sentence. Matteo couldn’t move out, he had nowhere, no one besides Simón. Yeah, he even got Gastón away from him. Simón is the only one who is able of managing their weird friendship.

“No.” He answered only this. In his silence, Simón was revealing he couldn’t tell me more.

It’s been two weeks.

Today Matteo came to the rink when I was closing it, to get back his things from his locker. It was already late and raining a river, Matteo forgot his umbrella and I offered for us to share. I needed to speak with Simón, so I was going that way... And they say benevolence heals the soul. Plus, it’s just an act of charity toward Matteo, it means nothing.

On the other hand, my body doesn’t agree that this is nothing. My heart is racing and my lungs failing, not enough air rushing my system. My legs are weak and trembling like their bones have completely vanished, my stomach found its own rollercoaster and is riding it on repeat and my eyes are able to capture the world with much more colors than 15 minutes before.

But it all can absolutely be the rain’s fault. I’m totally soaked now. A sneeze comes. Good, I’m catching the flu.

“Bless you,” Matteo whispers and I think he thought I wasn’t going to hear, but I shockingly heard. He eyes me and sees I’m soaked. “ How…”

“You’re tall. I’m not. The Wind isn’t very merciful on our height difference,” I answered already knowing his question. Matteo leans in closer, lowering so the umbrella cover all of me. This short distance gets me struggling. I need a bigger distance or none at all. With the way he is leaning into me, it’s hard to keep logical sense. Luckily, we are walking, so it’s little easier to focus on anything else.

“Now you are safe.” He states and a small smile escapes through his lips when he notices it is too late, I already saw him. It made me breathless, if before I’d thought that not enough air was reaching my lungs, now I feel like no air is getting at all. I missed his smile so much.

Matteo looks away as I watch him like he is a ghost and will disappear once I blink. I don’t what to do. Should I say something? Ask how is he doing? I can’t, he threw a smoothie on Ámbar for asking it.

I can’t be afraid of Matteo, he wouldn’t do it to me. Plus, he doesn’t have a smoothie to throw on me, so no danger, at least physically. Although he still can hurt me seriously in other ways.

I’m not scared. Matteo would never do something on purpose to hurt someone. I haven’t heard his side of the story yet, I can’t unreasonably judge him and be scared. I need to hear him first.

“Matteo-” “-Luna-” We call at the same time, looking into the other’s eyes until he looks away.

“You can go first, Luna.” He says but I’m so surprised he’s talking to me that I give up my question.

“I want to hear you first.” I insist, anxiously waiting for his voice. He takes a deep breath before speaking,“I’m sorry.” I’m shocked. “I condemned you for the chaos in my life. I didn’t know what to do and you were slipping away. Then I lost my parent’s support, I lost a place to call home, I lost control, I lost…” He pauses. I know what’s coming and my eyes are blinded by the tears. “I lost you.” And the first tear streams down, followed by many others.

When Matteo faces me, I can see he also has tears running down his face.  He pulls me into his chest, embracing me tightly, the umbrella already landing on the ground, his hands holding my body, strong but delicate as if I was going to break at the smallest movement.

I missed him so much. His strawberry smell, his familiar warmth, his big hands on my waist, his curls being tangled in my fingers, his height that always makes me tiptoe to get more contact with his body. I could always come to his arms and forget the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry…” Matteo sobs in my hair, I caress his hair slowly.

“Don’t worry,” I answer, moving away from him a little, staring into his brown eyes. “We will be okay,” I nod in reassurance.

“You don’t hate me?” He asks the fear shining in his eyes, making my heart feel heavy. ‘veI never seen Matteo this broken.

“How could I ever?” I reply. He leans in and I turn my face. Another sneeze comes. It wouldn’t be so easy.

“You’re getting sick.” Matteo drops to the ground slowly reaching for the umbrella, he picks, it but it is soaked on the inside since it was laying on the ground upside down. I feel a bit bad for the way he is acting like nothing happened.  “Come on.” He entwines our fingers and pulls me along to run with him.

He’s acting so weird, first he appears on the Jam & Roller, then says he’s sorry, tries to kiss me and now runs with me. Something is definitely wrong.

We reach his building soon. Without saying anything, we head to the apartment. Once he opens the door, many boxes and two bags are in the center of the living room, I frown.

“Are you going to travel?” I ask, praying to all the gods and the stars that his answer is different from my biggest inner fear.

“I’m going back to Italy,” Matteo says, eyeing the floor. My stomach drops and desperation consumes me. “Guess what? My dad was right about me. I can’t live like this.”

“No, Matteo…” I exclaim, already crying again. I’m such a baby next to him.

“This our goodbye, chica delivery.”

“No!” I was hysterical. Breaking with him was hard enough, but at least he was here. Even if I didn’t see him, I knew he was here, he was near. Italy always meant uncertainty for us, I never knew if it was the last time I would look into his brown. I need to know when he’ll come back. I hate this question. “When will you come back?” By the look in his face, I already knew the answer.

“Luna, I’m not coming back.” Hearing that made me see how broke Matteo was, how broke I was. Only a sentence was enough to bring me on my knees, I wasn’t able of keep standing, I was too weak for handling this. There I was crying on the floor of his apartment. Matteo got closer.

“Don’t touch.” I moved away screaming. I couldn’t take his touch now. Maybe distance will be good.

“Don’t do that to us.” Matteo said coming closer again. “It’s hard enough to do this already.”

“To do what? Give up on yourself? Yeah, it must suck so bad.” I exclaimed eyeing the ground. I was getting angry at him, realizing he threw everything he lived for away.

“Give up on us!” He yelled turning back, I looked at him shocked. “I’m not giving up on me going to Italy, I already tried to live my dream and nothing happened. The only thing that got me stuck in here was you.”

The only thing that got me stuck in here was you. I could feel that phrase would follow me for sometime. I never wanted Matteo to feel trapped in Buenos Aires for me. He said he wanted to follow his dream, not just be the Bálsano’s company heir. I supported him. Did I mess that support for pressure? Am I the reason he stayed? I made Matteo’s life so miserable? How could I not notice? I rush of tear streamed down my cheeks.

“Luna, I’m sorry,” He took my arm while apologizing and I couldn’t recognize his touch, it felt so cold, ice cold, so I flinched away in the same second. “Luna...”

“You’re right.” I whispered shaking my head.

“Chica delivery...” I’m always gonna miss it, but I needed to do what is best for Matteo.

“You’re right. I can’t keep you here, you should go.” I said standing up and wiping my tears. “You should go.” Moment to be brave, Luna. “It’s for the best.”

Matteo gasped and looked disappointed. I hoped for all the good things in the world to gave up and just run into Matteo’s arms, but I shouldn’t. That’s right way.

“Yes. For the best.” Matteo repeat. During the following quietness was pretty awkward, it was everything I wanted to say but it was about to be lost in the limbo forever. We kept our eyes locked on each other’s. Although, fortunately the moment didn’t last enough for me to take back my choice.

“No, Ámbar, that doesn’t mean,” Simón giggled coming from the room with Ámbar following him. They stopped when they saw us in the living room, we must be terrible because no of them said a thing for awhile.

“My flight is in a hour, so I have to go.” Matteo said finally looking away, moving for his bags.

“Do you need help?” Simón offered. “We can go with you to the airport with you.” Ámbar took his arm and murmured something to him, he nodded.

“No, I need to be alone.” Matteo answered taking all his bag.

“You’ll have more than enough time for being alone in that flight. You will handle me for some more minutes.” Ámbar stated walking toward him when he was at the door. I thought she was mad him for the smooth but looks like that is in the past. Matteo turned to her. “Just accept it.” He sighed hearing it.

“Bye, Simón.” Matteo came to Simón and they hugged. They hugged! Most unexpected scene in my life.

“Bye, Matteo. Good luck in Italy.” Simón said. Then Matteo walked to me. My breath failed. He didn’t spoke, we hugged. It would be our last hug. Remembering this, I couldn’t hold myself when I got on my tiptoes and crashed my lips on his. I needed a last kiss on my memory. This kiss was exactly like our first one. Everything around us seemed to fade away, the only feel I had was his lips on mine, the warmth of his hold, the main difference was that it tasted salty for the tears that we two had running down our face. We broke the kiss, he caressed my cheek. “Bye, chica delivery.” He pulled me into his chest again. “Take care of yourself, Luna.”

“Goodbye, chico fresa.” I said into his chest. We untangled, he kissed my forehead and walked to the door waving.

“Come back later?” Simón asked when Ámbar was closing the door, she came back.

“Sure. See you later!” She answered blowing a kiss and disappearing, shutting the door. As it shut, my knees failed and I got to the floor crying, soon Simón’s arms were around me.

“Luna!” He called me. “It will be okay.”

“I lost him. I lost him.” The only words I was able to say in my blubbering. Even if no one could hear it, I felt all my sobs coming forming a name: Matteo. I was too tired to fight against myself, so slowly I fell asleep. And went to the place where I still could find Matteo everyday; my dreams.

[additionallysad]

My New Favorite Front Door Paint (& Tips For Painting A Door) http://bit.ly/2WX0UjH

You know we painted our front door a new color back when we painted our brick house white in October, and I even mentioned back in that post that I used a new-ish specialty paint that’s made for front doors. It’s called Grand Entrance by Benjamin Moore and the paint color is Tranquility also by Benjamin Moore, and it can either be made in a satin base or a super hyper glossy mirror finish base.

Based on all of those excited adjectives I used to describe the latter option, it should be of no surprise to you that I jumped at the chance to buy and try “high gloss” for the first time.

Photos don’t do it justice. I mean the picture above is nice, but you don’t get the shiny and luxe effect at all (which is especially awesome in contrast to the super matte paint that we used on our bricks).

This paint is so shiny, you can see your reflection in it. Basically Cardi B would scream MONEY if she saw it. It’s amazing and EVEN THE FED-EX GUY NOTICED AND SAID IT’S SUPER COOL AND RAN HIS HANDS ACROSS IT LIKE A DOOR PAINT AD! (Have I mentioned that I paid for this and it’s not sponsored or anything? I’m just really into this stuff).

In the picture below you can kind of see how glossy and mirror-like the finish is. See how my fingers are reflected in the paint? They would’t do that with semi gloss paint, which is what’s typically used for interior and exterior doors.

Not only did I take this paint for a test drive on both sides of our front door, I’ve slowly been working my way around the rest of the house, repainting all of the exterior doors. And after so much door painting (I’ve done four doors and counting in this same color with this same product) I have a bunch of tips & tricks to share, as well as a video of the process. Videos always seem to help me when I’m looking for a tutorial online – and best of all, it captures the shine on the door in a way that these photos don’t.

You can kind of see the light gleaming off the right side of the door panel above the handle in the photo above, but again, the glossiness is kinda lost in these pics, so make sure you watch the video. That’s where these doors really shine. Har har.

There’s actually a super premium brand of paint called Fine Paints of Europe that costs $110 to $150 FOR A QUART OF PAINT, which sounds insane (is it made of GOLD?! Will it FOLD YOUR LAUNDRY?!) but it does look amazing. Super shiny. I just wasn’t ready to make it rain that hard with my painting budget, so I thought I’d try Grand Entrance, which it’s basically Benjamin Moore’s take on that same look, and it runs $44 a quart.

That’s still a TON OF MONEY FOR A QUART, but I still have about 1/4 of the quart left and I’ve painted four doors (one on both sides, and the other three on one side since the other side of the door is staying white) so around $11 a door feels completely fine to me.

Ok, so that’s why I love it. Now let’s get into the HOW of applying it. I just need to stress something I have already said, but feel like I need to say again, with emphasis. It’s really great looking…. but you can mess it up, so you have to do it right. Or you’re not going to be shout-it-from-the-rooftops-happy with the results like I am right now. You might actually hate it and have to redo your door. So this is one of those prep-and-diligence-actually-matters projects!

To further explain what I’m getting at, let’s go back to that Fine Paints Of Europe brand for a second. My friend shelled out over $120 for a quart to paint her front door a glossy red color up in DC. And even hired a handyman to paint it for her so she’d get the best result… and it was bad. Like so bad he had to sand it off and repaint it with regular paint.

The paint itself wasn’t bad, but applying super high gloss paint is not for the faint of heart. It can magnify every last flaw on a door, so with improper prep, it can look battered and bruised and MUCH MORE dinged up than it did with regular old semi-gloss paint on it. You have to sand every last bump down before you paint, so that is lesson numero uno. Fill any crack. Sand any raised part. Scrub it down so it’s not covered with dirt or cobwebs. This paint shows no mercy if you skip that step.

After my friend had that experience, I got super wary of high gloss paint (literally every expert says it’s the hardest to use since it magnifies flaws) but something compelled me to give it a try when we painted the house white. I walked into the paint store and I just felt like I needed to try it because I knew it would look amazing next to the extra matte brick paint we chose. And I’m SO GLAD I went for it.

Here I am painting the kitchen door that leads out to the garage, which had been a lighter and more chalky blue, but with the foyer door repainted, I wanted the kitchen one to match and have that same high gloss texture (which also looks great next to the tumbled marble tile). P.S. I paint with my clothes inside out, hence the tags you see below.

As for WHAT to use to paint with this stuff, I used a brush on every single part of every single door that I painted. I know that sounds weird. You’ll be tempted to ask me if you should spray it or use a small foam roller for a better result. The answer is no, use a high quality 2″ angled brush (this is our favorite kind), which will leave some subtle brush strokes, which you can sort of see here…

… but you’re bound to end up with SOME sort of stippled texture from your roller or sprayer with high gloss paint that shows this much of everything, so the long smooth brush strokes are actually much more pleasing to the eye when it comes to a project like this. We love how ours turned out.

In fact, the pro painter who did our house’s brick exterior told me he only uses brushes for doors with high gloss paint. So there you go. Your girl $herdog & Lance The Pro Painter are Hashtag Team Brush for this project.

As for the process, when I’m painting any door with panels on it, I follow this order:

Paint the recessed areas first (in the direction of the arrows below)

Then I paint the raised panels (in the direction of the arrows below)

Then I tackle the large cross sections last (filling in the horizontal rails and vertical stiles in the direction of the arrows below)

If you want to see the process in action (and see the super shiny result much better than in a still photo), John shot a quick video of me putting the first coat of the very last door on my list:

NOTE: If you’re viewing this post in a reader, you may need to click through to see the video. You can also watch it here on YouTube.

Oh but one thing to note, if you’re using this on doors with glass windows, I’m a fan of the paint-on-the-window-and-razor-it-off-later method, but this paint dries as hard as a diamond. Like for real. It’s Housewives tagline would be: “Diamonds might be shiny and hard, and darling, so am I” (*spin to camera to reveal super glossy shine*). So my big tip is that scraping it after waiting too long is super difficult. It was dulling my new blades in about a minute. So if you get paint on the glass, don’t wait a week to scrape it off like I did – attack it within a day or two if you can.

You can see in the picture below that the door that leads to our garage used to be white when the house got painted. I’ll take a wider shot in the spring once the back yard doesn’t look all bleak and wintery, but it’s really nice to have a hit of shiny blue paint on that door, as well as on the french door that leads into the living room on the other side of the house.

Here’s that other back door up close, which is under our covered porch and leads to the living room.

So there ya go. I hope hearing about this paint is helpful, and the video demystifies how I tackle a project like this. Most of all, if you’re my friend or neighbor who is reading this, you are totally invited to come pet my front door like the Fed-Ex guy. It really is my happy place to sing this paint’s praises to anyone who will listen.

Oh and to revisit our post about painting the house’s exterior brick (what we used, how long it took, how much it cost) you can click here. And who remembers when we converted the back room off of the living room from a stinky sunroom into a covered porch and lofted the ceiling? Here’s a post about removing the sliding doors (and one about planking the ceiling and one about tiling the formerly carpeted floor).

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post My New Favorite Front Door Paint (& Tips For Painting A Door) appeared first on Young House Love.