#litre like girl … that would last me 2 DAYS !!!

[bibleofficial]

i’ve only had 2 cups of coffee today & im pretty sure that’s why i’ve had a killer migraine all fuckin day

[motomamita]

Blood, Sweat and Ice.

Part. 2

Pairing: Dark!Eddie Munson x Female!IceSkater!Reader

Summary: Before finishing her off, eddie is determined to fuck her one way or another, even if he has to fake his identity to get it done.

Warnings: smut, +18, false identity, unprotected sex, creampie, mask sex, mentions of drugs, alchohol and blood, violence, idk sis.

A/N: Somewhat inspired by the Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan scandal. Ofc, this is more dark.

Do not translate or copy this!

With a joint dangling from his fingers and several litres of alcohol inside of him, Eddie Munson thought his afternoon was going to end the same as all the previous ones: with him sleeping on the bathroom floor, a puddle of vomit around him and his album favorite playing all the way in the background. However, Nancy Wheeler knocked on his door with a favor she needed from him.

"I just need it to be a scare, like an warning that makes her miss the competition this Saturday." The girl clasped her hands in front of her chest, as if she were praying. "Please, Eddie! I'll pay you a good dough!"

Nancy Wheeler has been ice skating since she was 8 years old. She was good, she tried hard and, just like in school, she was diligent. However, that was not enough to guarantee a place in the competition that would take place that weekend. It wasn't if she had to compete against that girl.

"What do you mean 'a little warning'?" Eddie leaned against the old refrigerator and took a drag on his joint before speaking again. "Do you want me to send her a threatening email? To bug the wheels on her bike? To shit on her doorstep and leave a sign saying 'don't you dare enter the competition, bitch'?"

"Yeah, it could be something like that. As long as it ensures it doesn't steal my first place, it's fine." The calmer Wheeler spoke "Please, Eddie. I know you've done worse in the past, Mike told me about it."

And yes, he had.

Alcohol and drug abuse, along with the fact that he dropped out of high school, had given Eddie a need for constant adrenaline. That adrenaline was obtained by carrying out unlawful and unethical acts. He first started stealing cars that were staying late in the Starmall parking lot. When he didn't get something of value, he had fun breaking the windows and scratching the doors. Then he went on to steal inside houses and spend hours hiding inside them even with their owners going about their daily lives. That unleashed in Eddie the interest to watch people closely without them knowing it. It was amazing how much one could find out about a person just by following him for a couple of hours in his day.

Last but not least illegal were street fights. Eddie had become addicted to them. When he felt boredom eat him up, he'd grab his truck, a couple of beers, and wait outside the town's strip club for some old or young man who wanted to fight him. As the weeks passed, Eddie stopped having opponents and that led him to look for other ways to have fun. He waited for his, now, victims in some dark alley and silently pounced on them. In a matter of minutes he left them almost dying in a pool of blood until some citizen found them the next day. Sometimes he used a weapon like a baseball bat or a heavy wrench that was used to repair his truck, other times he only used his hands.

Soon those acts alerted the entire town to the existence of an individual who beat his victims almost to death. Nobody knew who it was, just a few people, like Mike Wheeler. For that very reason, he wasn't surprised when Nancy visited him days ago in his trailer with a tempting offer, and not just for the money.

As he drove downtown to the ice skating rink that Thursday, Eddie Munson thought about his next victim. He knew quite a bit about her, all kinds of information he could get in a whole day of following her around. He knew her hours, where she lived, who she was dating and her weaknesses that would serve him for his 'mission'.

She was the only child of a middle-class family. Her parents moved to Hawkins when the little girl was 6 years old and continued to live there, with no plans to leave. Her parents both work at the mayor's office in not so high positions but enough to be able to travel every summer to Houston, where she was from. She had practiced ice skating since she was 4 in almost professional rinks, which favored her compared to her other opponents in Hawkins who had to settle for their most basic rinks. She was an excellent skater by nature, Eddie could see as he watched her skate from a dark corner of the place.

From the way her coach gave her instructions, he assumed that this routine full of jumps and somersaults was the one she was going to present on Saturday in front of the judges. Nancy Wheeler definitely had no chance against her.

He stayed until she was the last to leave the track. By that time, the other girls had already left several minutes ago, leaving his target alone for a few minutes on the track.

Walking out, Eddie caught a keen eye of the conversation she and her coach were having as she walked to the locker room. She planned to stay the next day, Friday, a few more minutes on the track to prepare as much as possible for the big day. Her coach, a woman with curly hair and brown skin, agreed with her decision but informed her that she would train alone because she had paperwork to do. They talked a bit about topics not very relevant to him and then they said goodbye. Eddie a few meters behind the coach and prepared to smoke in one of the seats outside the place while he saw how the woman got into her car and headed home.

After 25 minutes counted by the clock, she left the place with her wet hair and her heavy bag. The instant she stepped into the parking lot, a blue Camaro pulled out of the parking lot and came up to where she was standing. Billy Hargrove. Eddie laughed bitterly. She and Billy had been dating for a few months. It was not known if they were already a couple but evidently something was going on between them and it was very intense. They were like 'Beauty and the Beast'. She was a flower, so delicate and fragile, while Billy was anything close to a boundless animal.

Billy grabbed her bag and put it in the trunk and then opened the passenger door for her, like a real gentleman. The couple avoided all physical contact until they reached the lovers' lake, where the show for Eddie began several meters away.

As the temperature rose in the blue Camaro, so did Eddie's truck, who was not only seized by fever but also by jealousy. It had been weeks since he had been with a woman intimately, and years since he had fallen in love with one. Of the girls he had met in high school none had managed to capture his attention, not even Chrissy Cunningham who on more than one occasion had tried to reach more with him. Getting so involved in that skater's life had awakened such a strong desire within him, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to feel her the way Hargrove was doing right now. The memory that he had to hurt her at some point crossed his mind and it made him a little sad. However, his own body called his attention to the growing problem forming in his pants and he had to take charge.

...

That Friday he arrived at the track around sunset and stayed in his truck for a couple of minutes. Soon, the same people who had been yesterday were now leaving the place with their bags in the direction of their cars. He waited a few minutes before getting out of his truck and stealthily entering the area. Luckily for him, despite wearing long hair and unusual clothes, Eddie had always managed to go unnoticed everywhere. That served as an advantage in situations like this.

From a distance he saw her on the track, alone and without the slightest idea that he had been watching her for minutes. She was wearing a light green sweater and black leggings that accentuated her figure. Her white skates kicked up the ice with every hop and turn she took. Eddie smiled seeing her so focused on her routine, as if that were the only important thing in the world.

He walked to one of the vending machines when he noticed how she left the track and collected her things with the intention of going to the locker room. Eddie lowered his gaze and counted 3 times the few coins that lay in the palm of his hand, acting disinterested when she passed behind him and was lost among the aisles. He put two coins in the machine and took out a Dr. Pepper which he drank carefully as he looked around. He was practically alone in the place, him and her. The manager who closed the track was now up on the machine that cleaned the track and which in turn made an annoying and loud noise. It was perfect to carry out his mission. No one was going to hear her scream.

Eddie tossed the can into a nearby trash can and walked purposefully toward the women's locker room. The sound of water falling from the shower led him through the wide space to the area where she was. Eddie stood in the middle of the hallway, motionless until the sound of the water stopped completely. Delicately, he took out a ski mask that he kept in one of the pockets of his jacket and put it on, hiding his characteristic long hair and revealing only his lips and eyes.

She wrapped herself in her towel and got out of the shower. A scream escaped her throat at seeing him there, standing with his face covered and staring at her. The shock lasted a few seconds, seconds in which she hugged her towel even more and looked around in search of something or someone that would help her. Eddie remained silent, forcing her to speak for the first time.

"What... what do you want?" She asked, not quite sure that he would answer her. "Please don't do anything to me." She whispered taking a few small steps back and walking to her clothes on a bench.

Eddie didn't answer and watched her movements carefully in case she tried to run away, although he was going to catch her anyway before she went out the door.

"Aren't you going to answer me?" Unanswered. "Who you are?" Unanswered. "Billy?"

Bingo. She had fallen into his trap.

"Billy, this is not funny. Stop right now." She asked a little less upset but still with her agitated voice.

Eddie had discovered more about the couple than he would have imagined. He knew that her parents didn't want Billy and that's why they saw each other in the lake of lovers after each practice. She knew that Billy was annoyed when she drenched the seats of his Camaro with her wet hair and that's why he placed a towel on the seatback before looking for her. As he also knew how much she liked him to fuck her with a ski mask he had under the seat of his car.

The place wasn't fully lit and Eddie had taken it upon himself to dress in the most similar way to Billy's. So he could easily fool her.

"Didn't you hear me? Wait for me in the parking lot." She removed the towel from her, exposing her body.

Eddie swallowed hard and carefully admired the body of the naked girl in front of him. Now the distance between them was shorter and that made it possible for him to memorize every curve of her body. Soon his member woke up and he knew he had to act fast before someone discovered them.

He approached and hugged her from behind, placing his hands on her stomach, caressing her wet skin. He brought his nose to her hair and discreetly sniffed at her hair and the sweet shampoo she had used minutes before.

"Billy, stop!" She spoke now laughing when Eddie's hands tightened on her hips, digging his fingertips into her skin. "Do you really want to do this now? Here?" she asked as she felt his hard erection against her bare ass.

She turned to look at him, not closing her distance. Eddie nodded and prayed to all the saints that she wouldn't notice the chocolate color of his eyes, very different from Billy's blue. The girl let out a loud sigh and looked at the clock hanging on one of the walls.

"Okay, we have some time."

Eddie didn't wait any longer and pushed her slightly against the wall causing her to let out a moan almost in surprise at the abrupt movement. He knelt in front of her and brought one of her legs up to his shoulder, leaving her pussy available to him. Without thinking twice, he brought his mouth to her clitoris, sucking lightly on it and then massaging it with his tongue. She moaned loudly and then covered her mouth with her hand, she didn't want them to be found out. With his hands he massaged her thighs, supporting her from the way her legs trembled.

"Shit, Billy..."

Gradually, his ski mask began to soak with her fluids, impregnating her sweet taste and aroma into the fabric. Eddie went from the clit to her entry which was already fully weat. He licked her with his tongue, collecting all the fluid and bringing another wave of pleasure to the girl.

He glanced at the clock and knew he had to hurry. As much as he would have loved to continue savoring her, he wanted to feel her even more. He quickly got up from the ground and she had to grab the wall to keep from falling from how weak her legs were. She tried to kiss him but Eddie dodged her, avoiding any contact that would give him away.

"Baby, let me feel you..." she begged with her breath coming fast.

Hearing her, Eddie whispered a 'shit' only audible to him, he was too hot. He approached her again, grabbed her by the thighs and supported her again against the cold wall. For her part, she began to unbutton his pants and lowered the same along with his boxers, releasing his hard cock. Eddie rushed into her before she realized it wasn't Billy. She moaned again when Eddie's member mercilessly entered her and began to move at an accelerated pace. The girl tried to kiss him again but this time Eddie had to place one of his hands on her cheek, moving her head to the side and avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

Eddie's gaze was now fixed on the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, inviting him to taste them, which he did.

"Mmh, so good.." Eddie's wet tongue tasted first her left nipple and then moved to her right, continuing to move inside her.

The sound of their skins colliding and her moans were enough to drive Eddie to the extreme, who had been dreaming of that moment for days. He would have liked to have given her more pleasure, massaging her clits and whispering dirty words to her but it was not the moment. The only thing that was going through his mind was the need to come, even though he knew that he would have to break her legs later.

Eddie did his best not to make a sound but to no avail, the walls of her were sucking him so deliciously that when he came inside her, her name slipped from his mouth.

It took him a few seconds to understand what had happened and how much he had screwed up, all to fulfill his sexual desire. Eddie came inside her and released her without any finesse, letting her fall on the locker room floor. He pulled up his pants and adjusted his ski mask that had moved slightly from all the action. When he lowered his gaze, he met hers, she was scared.

"Who you are?" She whispered on the verge of tears, covering her body with her towel and feeling how the hot semen of that stranger came out of her.

Again Eddie didn't answer and stared at her. So fragile, so defenseless, so corrupted. He smiled slightly as he imagined Hargrove's face when he found out that a son of a bitch had ended up inside his girlfriend, and in the amount of money that Nancy would give him tomorrow after the championship.

She tried to get up from the ground but Eddie stepped on her hard on one of her ankles. The girl screamed that went unnoticed by the manager who was still cleaning the skating rink. Eddie provided more pressure on her, who was trying to get his foot off of her unsuccessfully. He was much stronger than her, it was clear. Eddie looked around for something that would hurt the girl even more, and he found it.

Eddie slipped his foot off her ankle and walked over to where her skating shoes were. The girl tried to stand up and escape but she couldn't, her ankle was already beginning to swell. Eddie grabbed one of the shoes and removed the safety band that covered the sharp metal blade.

She whimpered when she saw how he approached her with her shoe in hand, she knew what was going to happen to her. She had no escape, she was finished.

Eddie gripped the shoe tightly and landed the first blow on one of her legs, cutting her both clean and deep. He repeated his action several times with both legs, making sure not only to make her unable to walk for a long time, but also to leave marks for a lifetime.

When he was satisfied, eddie left the place with a smile and the sweet scent of her on his face.

[the-autistic-agoraphobe]

Autistic April Day 7: Safe Foods.

I have always been able to eat plenty of different foods without any sensory issues however with drinks it's a different story.

When I was one or two years old my parents attempted to introduce me to drinking water instead of milk but there was a problem I didn't like water. My parents were worried about how I could get hydrated because I couldn't go drinking only milk forever. So they tried me on all of these different kinds of drinks. At last they had success with Cottees Orange Crush cordial. Which I have included a picture of with this post here.

I remember being upset because water didn't quench my thirst like cordial did. I had meltdowns when I was thirsty and cordial wasn't available and I remember crying and saying that water only made me more thirsty. My parents than learnt that I had to have cordial available at all times.

One time my mum couldn't find the cottees cordial in the supermarket so she brought another brand of cordial and put it in my drink bottle for school. At school that day I noticed that my cordial tasted different to usual. So I told my mum about it. She told me about what happened and I had a meltdown.

I also had cordial at school camp in 2008. I was away for 5 days and there was a lady who was a carer to me because of my disability. She made the cordial up for me. Her cordial was drinkable but only my mum could get the perfect cordial to water ratio that I liked at the time. I have attached a photo of me at school camp in 2008 fishing.

Sometimes in high school I would get thirsty and run out of cordial and need more so I went to the office when they called my mum or my grandparents and they would bring cordial to the school.

In 2015 I went on my first overseas holiday to Bali. They didn't sell cottees cordial in Bali so we had to bring cordial with us in my suitcase. We also brought a doctors letter explaining the situation to the Indonesians. Despite the language barrier we didn't have any problems. I had a wonderful time in Bali.

In 2016 I was 20 years old and I decided to experiment with drinking a set amount of water each day. I thought water was neutral and maybe if I drink a set amount of water each day I won't get thirsty. So I drank a set amount of water each day and found myself needing cordial less and less until I didn't need it at all. Nowadays I drink about 2 litres of water each day.

Image Descriptions:

1: There is  cordial that is in a plastic bottle with a handle that has orange liquid in it. On a sticker on the front of the bottle it says "real fruit juice cordial cottees orange crush" it has a picture of a slice of orange on it.

2: This is a picture of me when I was 12 years old on my school excursion in Victoria Australia. I am a white girl and I am wearing a long cream coloured hooded coat. I have dark brown hair that is covered by a hood. I am wearing a navy blue knitted scarf and red woolley gloves. I am holding a blue fishing rod and I am smiling. I am standing between a wire fence and a lake. There are people behind me fishing in the lake. I have placed a purple heart to cover their faces.

3: There are a list of prompts for each day of the month for Autistic April. The top and bottom of the image is light purple and the middle part of the image is white with black text on it. The black text says "Autistic April 2024 Prompts: 1: Special interests 2: How you found out you were Autistic 3: your favourite stim 4: alternative forms of communication 5: your favourite fidget toys 6: textures you hate 7: safe foods 8: other disabilities you have 9: LBGTQI+ 10: childhood special interests11: comfort items 12: your favourite Autistic celebrities or characters13: unmasking 14: sensory aids 15: misdiagnosis 16: Autism friendly places 17: Disability support you have received 18: animals 19: favourite thing about being Autistic 20: echolalia 21: idenity first or Person first language 22: the spoon theory

23: colours that represent Autism (not blue) 24: Autistic owned small businesses 25: meltdowns and/or shutdowns 26: Your clothing prefences 27: Self care 28: Relatable Autism memes 29: Accessibility 30: routines" There is an infinity symbol that is half red and half gold on the top right corner of the white section. End Descriptions.

[luveline]

self preservation, part 2 | remus lupin x reader

“Just tell me,” he murmured, big hand on your face now, “tell me how much you wanted me to fuck you in my car. Tell me and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I wanted you bad,” you swallowed, words shaken, “I wanted to - to ask you to pull over again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And then I thought, even your fingers would’ve been enough. Anything I could get.”

summary Remus struggles to understand why he wants to kiss you so often. [5.4k]

warnings smut, fem!reader, coworkers to friends to friends with benefits to friends with benefits who kiss just to kiss and hang out together but not lovers lmao, muggle reader secret wizard werewolf Remus, anxious reader, 18+ please

read part one | two | three | four here

Remus Lupin watched you stacking bottled water and wondered how a girl like you was working in the supermarket when you should’ve been on film. Dirty, transatlantic, silent noir or indie — any film would do. A small part of him said he’d prefer dirty, but he wasn’t so sure. He could imagine you fresh-faced and smiling on the big screen, saw your face plastered on posters in street corners and across bus banners, your charming smile on the huge London billboards.

There wasn’t anything theatrical about you, the opposite; you were shy and a little quiet but you were real. In this theoretical ideal, the people loved you because of your authenticity. In his reality, he was the only one stark raving mad for you, and selfishly, that was how he liked it.

You were balancing on the shop's stacking ladder reloading sparkling litre bottles. He crossed his arms to lean on the small platform, smiling at you in what he hoped was a cool way. “Nice legs,” he said.

You huffed a small laugh where you were tucked up and put your hand out. He passed you a bottle and then a second and you didn’t say much until you’d finished. The both of you paused, empty handed. Your hair was tied back. He wanted to push the baby hairs flat to your face. You wiped your eyes and sat down at the top of the wide podium ladder. Remus looked up at you and tried to keep the admiration from his face, your legs at his eye level. They really were nice legs, and your work trousers - form-fitting, nicely shaped - were a distraction at best and an agony the rest of the time.

"What are you supposed to be doing?" you asked him.

He'd finished for the day. "Bedding. I've run away."

"Not you risking Sue's wrath to come help lil ole me," you said musically, peering down at him with your pretty movie smile.

He grabbed hold of your ankle lightly. "I can take Sue."

You laughed and he squeezed your skin, hand travelling absentmindedly up to your calf. "I don't think you can, Lupin. She's fierce."

"Just cos you're scared of her doesn't mean we all are."

"I'm not scared of her!" you protested, giggling.

"No, course not. You only hide everytime you see her."

"I can't help that. If you hadn't left me for dead last Friday I wouldn’t! She's still mad."

"What's worse," he began, rubbing your leg in apology, "Sue finds you and thinks you're bunking off or she comes round the corner and finds me with my dick in my hand?"

It was profane for him but it had the desired effect. You dissolved into a puddle of laughter that made his chest burn, folding over in the middle. If he leaned up he could reach your face, put his hand over your cheek.

"You have to stop apprehending me in silly places," you whispered, sounding like it was the last thing you wanted.

"You have to stop wearing these trousers to work."

"Remus, that's ridiculous."

He shrugged. You went to stand to climb down the ladder and he put his hands out in offering. You let him help you down the few feet to the floor and exhaled when your feet touched the floor. He kept his hands on your waist indulgently.

"I'm serious. They're awful," he flirted.

"And what would you have me wear instead?" you asked, words heavy with meaning.

"I'm afraid only one thing would discourage me."

"And what's that?"

"My grandma used to wear these billowing, dreadful skirts like she was heading a funeral procession. Just heaps of fabric, so heavy my dad would drag her-"

You pushed out of his grip, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous. Truly."

He followed after you, grinning to himself, eyes on your thighs. You really were a silver screen dream.

-

"When do you get off?"

"Same time as you, usually,” he said from across the table, both of you hidden away in the furthest reaches of the break room, enjoying the scarce privacy.

"Remus."

He looked up from his sandwich reluctantly. “How can you find error in that?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t mean it the way we both know you did.”

He grinned — god, you were sick of his smirking — and took a bite of his food instead of answering. You stole one of his crisps and sighed. “Just tell me if I’m getting the bus or not.”

“No bus,” he said, swallowing. “Stop thieving my snacks.”

“Stop bringing my favourites.”

“Where’s your lunch today?”

“I forgot it.”

“Well don’t.”

He looked legitimately cross. He had proved himself a good friend over the few months you’d known (and fucked) him, caring, kind, over-attentive. He liked to drop by with a fresh bottle of water or to help you finish your tasks when he was done, though often he was tracking you down to half-seduce you in some way. Half, because it didn’t take much effort on his part. Sometimes catching a whiff of his cologne was enough to make you dizzy for the rest of your shift, and you’d found yourself a handful of times seeking him out first. These times were usually the best times. If you took the initiative it drove him mad. Lucky for both of you that you enjoyed winding him up.

You pushed your foot onto his foot, the toe of your shoe into his ankle. He put his sandwich down in defeat and fixed his steady gaze on you, eyes intense as you travelled up the length of his leg.

The door opened. You dropped your foot and Remus returned to his sandwich, both of you trying to appear casual. He did a better job than you.

“Wassup guys?” Germ asked.

You silenced a groan. Remus cleared his throat. “Nothing, just lunch. You alright?”

“I’m great,” he said, disappearing behind the cul-de-sac of cubbies. You and Remus made eye contact, yours screaming to be saved from the oncoming assault of your senses and his full of mirth. Germ appeared with his lunch and slid smoothly into the seat beside yours, unnecessarily close. “Fucking Daniel won’t leave me alone.”

“How come?” Remus asked, eyebrows raised.

“Poultry. I asked Isabelle to front the old stock for me and she said she would. Long story short, she forgot, Daniel’s pissed and we have a ridiculous amount of turkey on discount.”

“That’s rough.”

Germ opened his container of egg salad and your stomach turned. “Fucking Isabelle.”

“Are you?” you asked. Remus laughed and pretended to cough, turning away to swig his drink.

“What?” Germ asked. You knew he hadn’t heard what you said, he never really listened to you, he was just being as polite as he could manage. “Where’s your lunch?” Then, before you could answer, nodding. “Dieting. Gotta get your summer body ready, huh?”

You spluttered. Remus rolled his eyes and pushed his crisps towards you. “We’re sharing.”

Germ missed his mouth, egg salad falling onto the table. “Right, right.” He crunched. You didn’t think egg salad was supposed to be crunchy. “You guys have any plans this weekend?”

Remus shrugged. You sighed,“Not that I-“

“Hey, we should do something tonight. Grab a drink, celebrate the Friday feeling.” He was looking at you, teeth full of salad, forehead shiny under the fluorescents.

“I can’t, I’m-“

“She’s helping me move.”

This ran off him like water off a duck's back. “Maybe next weekend.”

Remus frowned, and you realised with pleasure that Germ had finally said something that affected him. “Probably not,” he said. Germ blinked, eyes wide like maybe something had finally sunk it. Then he nodded, looked between the two of you with new eyes, and clipped his empty lunchbox shut, leaving in a hurry.

“Fucking Daniel,” you imitated.

“Fucking Isabelle,” Remus said back. You both laughed.

-

“Was that really necessary, with Germy?” you asked later, sitting in the passenger seat of Remus’ car. He was messing with the radio, a cigarette already hanging unlit between his lips. He turned the heaters up and finally turned to you, smiling around the cig.

“Yes.”

You groaned and lay back into the seat, head tipped.

“He’s gonna tell everyone.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” you asked him, too hopeful.

He lit his cigarette and breathed out the side of his mouth, careful to bat away the smoke drifting toward you as he manoeuvred into the right lane, 20 minutes out from your flat.

“Well, no. Do you?”

“You realise you won’t be able to — to fuck me in the storeroom anymore. Or the bathroom. Or the break room.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why not?”

“Cos when people realise we’re more than friends, they’ll keep a closer eye on us.”

He looked over at you with his eyebrows slowly climbing his face, then his eyes softened. “You’re getting anxious.”

“No,” you said, wiggling against the seatbelt, uncomfortable. “Alright, yes.”

“Unplug your seatbelt.”

“That’ll stress me out worse.”

“I’ll pull over,” he said. He did, and when he was in park he unclipped your belt for you. He watched your chest rise and winced apologetically. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew it would upset you.”

“I’m not upset I just - I just worry. Can’t help it.”

He sat back too. “If we get in any trouble, I’ll take the blame. We likely won’t,” he added placatingly, “but if we do. So don’t worry, alright?”

You hated how seriously he took you. He never ever treated your worrying like it was childish, or melodramatic. And you hated it, because he made it seem so easy - and if it was that easy, that simple to validate your worrying, why had nobody else ever bothered?

“Okay?” he asked. Only when you said yes did he touch you, rubbing his hand roughly down your arm, up your shoulder, this way and that until you were smiling again.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I make little things so big.”

He took a drag, held it. “You can’t help it,” he repeated your words through an exhale of smoke, starting the car again. He had his left hand on the wheel, his right coming away from your side to take the cigarette from his mouth. You missed his hand. He held the cig out to you. “Finish this?”

Normally you wouldn’t.

“Might help you calm down. If you don’t want it you can put it out for me, I need my hand.”

You nodded and took it, cracking open the window to blow lines of white. He’d ‘needed’ his hand to press into your leg, thumb making firm semi-circles against your thigh. By the time you got to your flat you were feeling much better, calmed by the smoke, by his touch, by the warmth of the car and the fresh air on your face.

If he were your boyfriend you might’ve kissed him goodbye as you got out. He wasn’t. You got out, erred by the door, leaned your head back in. “Do you want to come up?”

-

“Are you hungry?” you asked him, dropping your house keys on the kitchen table.

“Are you?

“No.”

“Didn't think so,” he said. You were in the doorway to your small living room, flicking the light switch on when you felt his hand in your hair, baring your neck to him. He wasn’t gentle.

His mouth danced over your skin, spare hand at the waistband of your trousers. You gasped as he moved, figuring he’d untuck your shirt to mess with your chest, his usual move, when he pushed down, over your underwear. He was rushing, really rushing, and you had to wonder what had turned him on this badly. His fingers ghosted over your cunt, pushing down your slit to toy with the more than damp fabric.

“I fucking knew it,” he said, sounding triumphant.

“What?” you asked weakly, dizzied under his touch. He was pushing your underwear aside. You looked down to see the amorous sight of his hand in your trousers, enjoying his rough treatment too much.

“You were turned on in the car.”

And you had been, calmed down from what could’ve been a nervous cry, his hand had pushed closer and closer towards the apex of your thighs, his pinky ghosting incredibly close but never close enough.

“Not gonna defend yourself?” he asked. As if he’d let you. He pushed his middle finger past the beginning of your entrance, just once, a mere pass over, then two, burying his long, thick fingers in your slick cunt.

The fabric of your trousers restricted his movements. He didn’t care, fucking at the hilt of his fingers, curling and curling until your legs went weak. You could’ve swore he was the only thing keeping you up, hand in your hair. You covered his hand at your cunt and moaned feebly.

“How’s that, sweetheart? That what you wanted?”

You nodded fervently.

“Use your words.”

You could’ve cried. “Yes.”

“Tell me how much you wanted it?” he requested, rubbing the sweet spot inside you emphatically with the tips of his fingers.

“Remus,” you began. He pulled his fingers out, turned your face to his. He was glowingly handsome and his eyes were bright in the dim light of your living room.

“Just tell me,” he murmured, big hand on your face now, “tell me how much you wanted me to fuck you in my car. Tell me and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I wanted you bad,” you swallowed, words shaken, “I wanted to - to ask you to pull over again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And then I thought, even your fingers would’ve been enough. Anything I could get.”

He squeezed your face, obvious delight lighting his features. You looked between his warm brown eyes and frowned, missing his fingers in your cunt, shifting. Like he could sense it, he turned your body so you were kissing, rough and frenzied. He didn’t always try to kiss you even though you’d never deny his mouth, never say no to his open-mouthed brushes against your neck, his spiteful nips, his markings on your inner-thighs. You were more than eager to kiss him as he walked you back, footsteps fast, ‘til your calves hit the sofa cushions and he was pushing you down. He broke the kiss, breathing hard. His fingers came to your unbuttoned trousers and pulled them clean off, eyes alight at your naked legs. He had an obsession with them. They were smattered in hickeys from previous hook-ups and bruises from where he’d pushed you over a pallet of bagged fertiliser in the storeroom the last time you’d both been on nights, had fucked you so hard and so well you’d left a little puddle where you’d been standing.

It was a similar travesty now as he pulled your underwear off, slick strings and a wet patch evidencing your obvious arousal. You were cushioned high enough to see as he collected the wetness and covered his hand with it, pushing three fingertips against your entrance teasingly.

“This similar to what you were thinking?” he asked, easing to the first knuckle, then the second, other hand flat on your stomach to keep you flush to the leather of the settee.

“Yes, yes,” you admitted, trembling. “Exactly like this.”

“You like it?”

“Yes,” you repeated, word all warped in pleasure, end drawn out and high.

“Good girl,” he cooed, second hand coming up to push into your clit, listening for your hitched intakes of breath. “There you are.”

You moaned unabashedly at his words. He looked at you, gratified, adjusting so he was leaning over you and kissing you, kissing you so much your chest burned and your cunt burned hotter and everything movement he made was like a match had been lit at your skin.

You ran your hands down from his shoulders, over his chest, down to his trousers. He made a fuss about your uniform and his was worse, tight-fitting. Remus had the kind of cock that couldn’t be hidden; his uniform was a constant reminder. You ran your hand over his cock and found him hard as steel. He moaned into your mouth, hand stuttering at your stretched out pussy while he collected himself. You refused to let him, squeezing gently along his length through stiff fabric.

He moved out of your reach and pulled his fingers from your beating cunt, using both hands to pull your shirt over your head, chucking it to the side.

“Respect the uniform,” you murmured.

He answered by pulling his own shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the same direction. His chest was covered in scars, you’d see the, all before, and you never asked. He didn’t volunteer any answers, even when new ones appeared. To your relief he was completely healed and ready to be kissed, which you did. If he minded he didn’t say, pushing the hair away from your face as you went. He didn’t allow you many kisses before he was taking up your lips with his, opening your mouth wide to deepen the kiss searchingly.

You got inpatient and went looking for his zipper. He laughed like you’d told a really good joke and did it himself, falling back onto his haunches. He pushed his boxers down enough to expose his achingly hard dick, the head wet with precum, veins standing out.

You had goosebumps, the hairs on your arms standing up as he dragged his thumb down the line of your wet cunt. He grabbed you bodily by the thighs, big hands encapsulating the soft flesh to pull you down so you were on your back, cunt spread and now centimetres from his cock.

“You remember,” he said, pushing his cock up against your slit, digging the head into your slick clit cruelly pushing circles, hitting your skin, pulling away, “when we first fucked, you remeber what I said?”

“You said I was louder than you expected,” you said, naked chest heaving with the effort to constrain your excitement.

“Yes, that, but you remember the first thing. You were sat on my lap all dolled up, grinding this pretty pussy,” he slid up against you again, you gasped, “down into me all innocent. And I said-“

“How you thought I’d ruin you,” you finished, hoping to hurry him.

He nodded, pleased. His cock was at your entrance now, pressing in, slow and then not. He was halfway in when he leaned down, kissed you dead centre in the chest and then laughed again, forehead pressed to your sternum. You, despite your general cockdrunk brain, pulled his face up to study him questioningly.

“I was wrong,” he said, pulling out. “You won’t ruin me.”

He thrusted all the way in. His cock hit something soft inside you, had you crying out in pleasure. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he said firmly.

Thankful there was no one to hear you but the neighbours you found yourself not even attempting to hold in the intense expressions of pleasure you were releasing, found the keening sounds were too much work to hold back as he fucked into you hard. He must’ve appreciated the relative privacy for once as well, as his own moaning was plentiful and ruinous. His hitching breath, his gasps, they had you doing things you never would’ve done before you met him. You were whispering expletives and pleading and praises, hands fluttering over his body as he shaped you around him.

He snapped his hips forward and liked the sound you made, groaning, his hands tightening on your knees. “Fuck, fuck sweetheart. You’re so fucking tight.”

You bit your lip, eyes slipping shut as he rutted into your core. He grabbed your thighs and hugged them to his chest, splitting you up, his pelvis hitting your cunt bruisingly with each thrust. You were too fucked to mind as he bit the skin just below the back of your knee. When he’d mottled your leg he slowed, encouraging you onto your side with your legs both pushed one way, the new angle forcing you to clench down on his cock. He hissed with every thrust, the new tightness an obvious pleasure.

You played with your tits as he worked, rolling your nipples and smiling at his pinched expression. He was easier to rile up than you were, you thought, sliding the bead of your nipple between your fingers and pushing your breasts up tantalisingly.

He leaned his weight into his hand on you leg and ousted you hard into the sofa, body rocking, the sound something pornographic as he hammered into your quickly over sensitive cunt.

“What happened, sweetheart? Where’d those pretty moans go?” he asked. You were too busy catching your breath to moan, or explain. He took it as a challenge and spread your legs wide again, grabbing your hips and elevating them off of the sofa to spear you open on his cock, rolling your hips against his cock like you were a toy for him to fuck. The grip on your hips was knew leverage for his lace and he fucked into you so hard you saw stars, moans loud enough that you pressed your face into the fabric and prayed your neighbours weren’t home. He chased your pleasure with his fingers at your clit rubbed a series of quick lines that had you cumming, orgasm white hot. Your thighs clenched, your fingers tightened around his wrist hard enough to bruise and you pressed your open mouth into the fabric to muffle your shout. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you time to come down even when the sobbing started, overwhelmed by his touch and enjoying it too much.

If you’d asked him to stop he would’ve, no questions asked, but you didn’t ask him to stop and he made good on his declaration, ruining your cunt with a fierce, inescapable determination. Once your sobbing had quieted to a whimpering and your cunt was twitching around him he grabbed both hips again and finished what he started, fucking into your heat until he was cumming inside you, white cum pumping into you and leaking out in rivulets when he pulled out.

You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon. He pushed his cock back into your full cunt and fucked slow with no high to chase, plastering your chest in gentle kisses. His hands were doing damage control, running over your bruising hips soothingly.

“Pretty girl,” he said against your skin, finger catching one of your hard nipples and pinching. “Pretty, pretty girl. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded, light headed as he latched onto your nipple and sucked hard, swirling his tongue around you wetly. He pulled back after a few moments to kiss the quick-forming contusion.

His hand cupped the side of your face. “You’re a never-ending wet dream, I’m telling you. So fucking pretty, such a good girl.”

You cleared your throat, wanted to be close to him suddenly enough that it had a lump forming in your throat. You held your hands out and let him pull you into his lap, softening cock inside you, a warmth spreading through your whole body. You wrapped your arms around his chest and let him kiss your forehead, rocking you from side to side with his big arms across your back.

“You okay, lovely?” he asked quietly, lips pressed to your temple.

You kissed his chest and hoped he got the message.

-

“Jeremy told me something interesting,” Daniel said that Monday, eyeing you up in what could only be described as a look of betrayal.

“Yeah?” you asked. You and Remus had already agreed to act like Germ was way off base. Cruel, but necessary if you wanted to keep fucking at work, which you both did.

“He said Lupin’s getting territorial.”

“Like a dog?”

“Don’t play dumb!”

You held up your hands in surrender. “I’m not. I just have no idea what he means.”

Dan took the stanley knife from your hands and set about cutting the plastic wrap open himself, as you were doing a terrible job. He was sighing dramatically as he did. “I thought we were work besties, Y/N, I really did.”

“We are!” you rushed to assure him. “You’re a great friend, work or not. But I really don’t know what Germy means.” You felt bad for lying to him because it was true — you couldn’t survive this job without his comforting presence and helpful, kind soul.

His eyebrows came together. “Germy?”

You made yourself very, very busy.

-

Remus Lupin could not stop thinking about you. There was a cavernous difference between fucking in forbidden places and having his way with you in private. He felt like he’d tried black tar heroin. He searched for you everyday that week and you never once denied him, but, he thought, with his hand pressed over your mouth to stop from being discovered, nothing could calm his withdrawal.

For one, he’d been a little more gentle with you than he had been the Friday before. He knew he couldn’t get away with how rough he’d been every time. You’d both enjoyed it but it was an unrealistic standard, and he liked having his way with you slowly anyhow. You were as amorous whether you took it hard or slow, soft or hard, sight illicit and the sounds you made bordering on torturous, muffled by his hand or his chest.

You did bruise on your hips, to his horror, finger shaped contusions. You loved them, you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. He wondered if it was true or if you were shielding his feelings and found that both options were endearing.

So, you were hot, you were pretty, every fuck left him reeling and wanting more, so why did privacy matter so much? Why was he chasing a fuck like the one in your flat again?

He realised, bright and early Thursday morning when he’d come in early and found you facedown in your book, that it wasn’t the privacy that had mattered, it was the intimacy. The openness. You’d given him everything you could, had moaned and pleaded and said things that had him half-hard in recollection alone.

If anyone else ever saw you like he’d seen you that night, he thought, you’d be elevated past movie star status. You’d been pornographic, you’d been cinematic. He couldn’t believe it was his life, couldn’t believe he’d been the one fucking you into a tizzy. He resolved to be a little nicer, not that he’d ever been cruel, but at this point he was sure you were godly. He felt reverential. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from hugging you close on the settee and couldn’t stop himself now from dotting a kiss on your snoozing head before rousing you with a hand on your shoulder.

“You alright, lovely girl?” he asked. You blinked at him tiredly. He patted your shoulder. “Tired?”

You yawned behind your hand and nodded. “I was up watching… uhm…” your head started leaning to one side. He shook you as gently as he could and you snapped up. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“You should go home if you’re this tired, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine. And, you know, stupid games get stupid prizes. I shouldn’t have stayed up.” You said all this looking pretty as a peony, eyes half-lidded. He wanted to kiss each eyelid.

He nodded and turned away to shove his coat into his locker as well as his rucksack. He stood there for a moment and had to really debate his next move before reaching into his back and taking the little bar of chocolate he’d brought in for you in his hands. He was going to leave it in your locker like he always did when you were busy.

He offered it to you. “Eat this.”

You blinked at it. “They’re from you?”

“Don’t know what you mean.” He squeezed your shoulder. “Eat it, you’ll feel better.”

You nodded. He watched with a pleased eye as you nibbled at the corner. You caught his eye and smiled back. You had toothpaste in the corner of your mouth. He wanted to kiss you, kiss you and take you home and tuck you into his bed and let you sleep for days if you wanted to.

-

Remus had been fucking you silly all week, mostly bathroom romps where he could make you cum way quicker than you’d care to admit and then spend the rest of the time getting himself off at his own leisure. He liked to play with your clit and leave the rest untouched whilst he whispered how he was going to fuck you, how pretty you looked today, how tight your cunt was. You’d ruin your underwear and he didn’t care, and wouldn’t give you any relief even as you came hard from his figure-eights.

Only after you came would he fuck you, and if he could he’d have you cum again. If he couldn’t he’d kiss your cheek and beg forgiveness before tucking his shirt back in and running off to wherever he’d been radio’d.

But today he hadn’t yet. It was Friday, you’d come in early by accident and fallen asleep at the table. Remus had woken you up with his nice hands on your shoulders and you’d worried for a second you were dreaming. Then, he’d given you a bar of chocolate. You’d thought he was your secret gift giver for a moment. He’d played stupid and you’d believed him, and it had all worked out well for him until you gave in and asked Daniel if he’d been leaving you chocolates.

“No, babe, not me.” And then, as an infernal gossip. “Why, someone’s leaving you gifts? Who? It’s Lupin. It’s definitely Lupin.”

You weren’t stupid. It was definitely Remus.

He didn’t come looking for you until the end of the day. He’d been busy during lunch and you hadn’t seen him otherwise, he hadn’t sought you out for anything and you’d felt a little crushed until you’d gotten into his car at the end of the day and he’d asked you to come over to his flat. You’d agreed, grinning, excited for a second round of what you’d had together the previous week.

You woke up in his bed. Confused, you pulled back the sheets and stared down at your socked feet and uncomfortable trousers that had left lines embedded in your skin.

“Remus?” you called. It was dark out.

The man in question came barreling around the corner. “What?”

“What time is it? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, doll. You fell asleep in my car.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologised shyly, wondering if your hair looked as awful as you feared.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t…” He hesitated, biting his cheek.

“What?”

“Well, you don’t have to come over only to fuck.” He seemed uncharacteristically shy as he said it, standing in his own doorway like the room didn’t belong to him. You thought maybe he was going to ask you out, felt the excitement in the tips of your toes, when he said, “We were friends first, weren’t we?”

“Right,” you agreed, slipping back down under his covers. “Still, you could’ve woke me up.”

“You look cute when you sleep.”

“Grow up, Lupin.”

“Be nice or you can’t have any pasta.”

You shot up again. “I meant: Thank you, Remus. I do look cute when I sleep. I totally agree, and you’re always right. What kind of pasta is it?”

He sighed, long-suffering. “The one you mentioned before, with the cherry tomatoes.”

“Yes!” You squealed and scrambled onto sleep-heavy footing to hug him briefly before pushing him back, forcing him to lead you into the kitchen.

You didn’t see how he watched the back of your head, missed his pensive sigh as you ate pasta and watched a movie. He didn’t try to do anything except kiss you quickly when he dropped you off.

You frowned as he drove away. Where did kissing lie on the friends with benefits scale? It certainly wasn’t friendly.

-

it’s been a while! lol

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[dauntingatdusk]

Jeffrey Dahmer - The Milwaukee Cannibal (pt.2)

DAVID THOMAS (23) – September 24 1990

David Thomas aged 24 was murdered and dismembered by Dahmer. Dahmer begins to take photographs as he dismembers the body and while the murder is in progress.

CURTIS STRAUGHTER (19) – February 18, 1991

Curtis Straughter engaged in oral sex with Dahmer, he is later murdered and dismembered. His bones were crushed but Dahmer kept his skull.

ERROL LINDSEY (19) – April 7 1991

Errol Lindsey is drugged and strangled by Dahmer before he is used to perform oral sex. Again Dahmer dismembers his body and keeps the skull.

ANTHONY HUGHES (31) – May 24 1991

Anthony Hughes, who is deaf and mute, is passed a note from Dahmer at a club. In Dahmer’s usual routine he invites him back to his place for photos. Dahmer murders Hughes and dismembers him, keeping his skull also. However before Dahmer dismembered the corpse he left the body lying around the apartment.

KONERAK SINTHASOMPHONE (14) May 26 1991

Konerak Sinthasomphone is offered money from Dahmer, and he follows him back to his place. Dahmer drugs the child and assaults him while he is unconscious. Dahmer experimented on Konerak also, drilling into the back of his skull and injecting hydrochloric acid. He did this in attempt to cfeate a “zombie” that he could have complete control of. At some point Dahmer leaves the apartment and Konerak stumbles from the building. He is spotted, bleeding from his anus, by two girls who call the police. The police investigate while Dahmer returns and explains that the child is actually his 19 year old lover. The police leave without any further investigation and Konerak is later murdered and dismembered. Dahmer also kept his skull. If the last name sounds familiar he is the brother of the 13 year old Laotian who got away from him.

MATT TURNER (20) – June 30 1991

At a gay pride parade young Matt Turner meets Dahmer. Turner would become another victim of Dahmer’s and his skull is placed in the freezer. His body is also one that Dahmer left lying around his apartment as he was dismembered.

JEREMIAH WEINBERGER (23) July 5 1991

Weinberger and Dahmer meet at a nightclub and Jeremiah actually spends the entire night at Dahmer’s apartment. When he requests to leave the next morning Dahmer became enraged and treats him not unlike Konerak. Dahmer uses boiling water in place of hydrochloric acid. Turner was left in a coma like state for two days. Dahmer would later strangle him. Weinberger was dismembered and his head was placed in the freezer alongside Matt Turner.

OLIVER LACY (23) July 15 1991

Lacy spends some time with Dahmer at his apartment engaging in consensual sexual activity. As he had done with his previous victims Dahmer drugs Lacy and murders him once he is unconscious. Lacy is dismembered and both his heart and head are placed inside Dahmer’s fridge.

JOSEPH BRADEHOFT (25) July 19 1991

Bradehoft becomes Dahmer’s last murder. The two men have consensual sex at the apartment before Bradehoft is drugged and murdered. He is dismembered with his head and torso being placed in the freezer. His other remains however were placed in a large barrel of acid that Dahmer had purchased in Early July.

TRACY EDWARDS (31) July 24 1991

Tracy Edwards is the last man who Dahmer brought back to his apartment. Tracy was given a cocktail to make him drowsy. Dahmer tried to sexually assault Tracy. Tracy had began to struggle when Dahmer put a handcuff on his right arm. As Dahmer reached for a knife Tracy ran for the unlocked door. Dahmer attempted to pull the man back inside and a brawl broke out. Tracy hit Dahmer on the side of the head which knocked him to the floor. Edwards escaped and ran into the street where he was able to flag down a patrol car. The Police returned to Dahmers apartment and began their investigation. Police found photos of various states of dismemberment, a severed head on the ground, the fridge and freezer containing a heart, flesh, and a portion of muscle. The freezer contained 3 heads, a human torso, a bag containing more flesh and internal organs. The cupboard contained various chemicals and 2 bleached skulls. Also on the floor was a large kettle holding 2 hands and set of genitals. Police found 3 more skulls in a filing cabinet. The wardrobe was opened to show a complete skeleton, dried human scalp, and more genitals. In a small box they found 2 more skulls and next to the box was a 260 litre vat containing acid. Inside the acid police found 3 human torsos in various stages of decomposition. Dahmer is arrested.

AFTER ARREST

Dahmer is charged with four counts of homicide, from the evidence police find in his home. Dahmer admits that his crimes were wrong and did not shift blame. His bail was set for 1 million dollars. On January 13 1992, Dahmer changes his plea from innocent, to guilty with an insane defense. While Dahmer admitted to killing the fifteen identified victims he continued with his defense that he suffered a mental disease and as such should not be held responsible. On February 15 of the same year Dahmer is found guilty of 15 counts of murder and sentenced to 941 years in Jail.

DEATH

On November 28 1994 Dahmer is sexually assaulted and murdered in prison by Christopher Scarver at age 34. Scarver was a convicted murderer. Dahmers body was cremated, per his request, and his ashes were split among his parents. After Death in December 1995 a judge ordered the cremation of Dahmer’s brain, which had been preserved at the request of Dahmers mother who hoped to have it studied. Joyce hoped that studying the brain would determine whether or not biological factors were behind her sons behaviour. However, Lionel sought out the cremation because that is what Dahmer requested.

PYSCHOLOGY

Conditions: Necrophilia: Lionel Dahmer noticed four year old Jefferys fascination with animal bones collected from beneath the family home. Dahmer also collected dead animals from the sides of roads. Dahmer however did not enjoy the act of killing animals, a big difference from most seriall killers in their youth. He merely was fascinated by their bodies. In High School Dahmers interest would persevere. It is believed that this fascination grew into something erotic in adolescence. Dahmer would gain another obsession at this age: compulsive masturbation. His two biggest interests would slowly began to coincide. Dahmer found the warmth from a recently deceased body arousing, however similiary to how Dahmer took no joy in the killing of animals, Dahmer claims to not be a sexual sadist. He states that he derived no pleasure from his victims’ terror or pain. Dahmer would frequently keep pieces of his victims and use them in his masturbation. He even went so far as to keep on the heads in his locker at Ambrosia Chocolate Co. Dahmer also planned to build a shrine of sorts with the skulls and skeletons of his victims. This was supposed to be a kind of supernatural shrine and help Dahmer stay connected to his victims. Cannibalism: While Dahmer initially admitted to eating one victims bicep because he wanted to try it Dahmer put another victims head and heart in the fridge to eat later. Coworkers reported that Dahmer brought meat from home with a “special gravy” but refused to let any taste it. Dahmer would also keep chopped human meat in his freezer which he shaped into patties. He would later state that he ate his victims to keep them with him forever, similar to why he kept their skulls. Pedophilia: Dahmer was arrested numerous times for exposing himself to minors or molesting them. He somehow avoided capture for these crimes. His adult victims all shared a boyish appearance and were young in age. It isn’t clear whether the allegations that Dahmer was molested by a teenage neighbour are true, but it is common in most pedophile’s background. His father has claimed he was but Dahmer denied it and no charges have been made. Denial is not unusual, however and even more so among men. Exhibitionism: Dahmer’s exhibitionism could be seen as an outgrowth of his pedophilia. In August 1982 Dahmer was charged with drunk and disorderly conduct after exposing himself to a crowd, which included children. Four years later he would be arrested for lewd behavior after he was caught masturbating infront of two twelve year old boys. He confessed to five previous incidents of public masturbating and was sentenced to one year of probation. He was also ordered to seek therapy, which he failed to do. Depression: Paraphilias are frequently comorbid with depressive symptoms. Right before he was arrested Dahmer sought and killed victims while he reported his depressive episodes to his probation officer. Dahmer also alluded that losing his job would be a good reason to kill himself. Substance Dependence: Dahmer had a long, long history of substance abuse. He abused alcohol frequently beginning in high school where a classmate recalled Dahmer drinking scotch in class. Dahmer would continue this behaviour into college where he would often pass out drunk on his way back to his dorm. His alcoholic behaviour also got him dishonourably discharged from the army. According to defense expert Carl M. Wahlstrom M.D, Dahmer had to drink in order to murder his victims and that he did not enjoy that act of killing. Asperger’s Disorder According to Lionel (Dahmer’s father) Jeffery as a young child did not hold eye contact, showed blank facial expressions, was stiff and rigid, and had trouble interacting with other children. Quote from Dahmer “The subtleties of social life were beyond my grasp. When children liked me, I did not know why. Nor could I formu- late a plan for winning their affection. I simply didn't know how things worked with other people.... And try as I might, I couldn't make other people seem less strange and unknow- able. (Silva et

al., p. 1349). “ Silva et al. (2002) belive that Dahmer’s fixation on corpses and body parts allowed him to reimagine them as love and sex objects. Morever, his meticulous fascination with bones and body parts from a young age is also a sign of Aspergers – as much as his social and emotional impairments. It is noted however that borderline personality disorder and Aspergers is difficult to tell apart in adulthood since both impair interpersonal relations and share several core symptoms. Several facts and events in Dahmer’s life seem to actually argue against an Aspergers diagnosis. There was an incident where police caught Dahmer chasing a naked and bleeding 14 year old boy. Dahmer was able to convince the police that nothing was wrong – even though he had a decomposing corpse already in his bedroom. SOURCES A&E Biography Video: Jeffrey Dahmer https://murderpedia.org/male.D/d/dahmer-jeffrey.htm Baumann, Edward, Step into My Parlor: The Chilling Story of Serial Killer Jeffrey Dahmer. 1991. Dahmer, Lionel, A Father's Story. William Morrow and Company, 1994. Davis, Don, Milwaukee Murders, Nightmare in Apartment 213: The True Story. St Martin's Paperbacks, 1995. Martingale, Moira, Cannibal Killers. St. Martin's Paperbacks, 1993. Tithecott, Richard and James Kincaid, Of Men & Monsters: Jeffrey Dahmer & the Construction of the Serial Killer.

[ficsnroses]

Workout - Keanu Reeves x Reader

We really need more shirtless content I’m running out of gifs oof. Anyway, Enjoy!

Word Count : 3.1k

Warnings : Smut, fluff. Unprotected Sex. Intercourse in a public place. NSFW. A few F bombs.

Summary : Reader and Keanu are in the middle of a workout session together at their gym, when Keanu starts to feel a bit frisky, resulting in a quickie in the gym restroom.

*Thank you so much for the birthday wishes this morning, you all made my day ❤️

Huffing, a few beads of sweat trickling down your forehead, you groan quietly, lightly, barely audible, on your second set of dumbbell seated crunches.

The cool breeze of the air conditioner kisses your skin from all around, the music thumping with each beat, the sounds of throaty groans and sulks coming every now and then from around the complex.

Your boyfriend, Keanu, watches you through the wall mirror, as he progresses through his round of bar pull ups. Sweat has seeped through his gray muscle shirt, his perfectly bulked arms defined and tensing each time he pulls himself up for a rep. Admiring, slightly intoxicated by the way his broad muscles look beautifully toned, the movement and definition prominent in each pull, you bit your lip, momentarily forgetting the pain burning in your abs each time you move.

Keanu and you decided to have your morning workout together today, in the gym you both attended regularly. Often, you’d have to come separately, due to your conflicting schedules, however, on fortunate days like today, you both were free from any work in your respective careers, allowing you to accompany each other.

You preferred to have Keanu as your gym buddy, both being able to push each other harder than you may normally go. Of course, the added bonus of seeing each other work out was always a plus.

Biting your lip, your eyes squeeze shut, taking in deep, low breaths as you struggle to finish the last 5 reps of your set. Keanu sees you through the mirror, smiling at how fierce, yet simply beautiful, almost completely adorable you looked trying to finish.

“Almost there, babe! You can do it.” He encourages, eyes shining as they watch you.

Throwing your head back in discomfort, eyes tight shut, you rasp. “I don’t think I can, Ke.” You almost yell.

The gym is occupied by a few more scarce patrons, mostly people from the higher end of society, or people working in the entertainment industry. The complex was one of the more private, secluded ones for people of Keanu’s celebrity status. If he had it his way, he would be fine with attending any other gym. However, unfortunately, that didn’t always guarantee his safety, or privacy.

Keanu and you had been dating for 4 years now, and were completely committed to the relationship. Rarely, people find the one person who makes everything fall into place, everything so much more special, providing the companionship everyone dreams of. Keanu and you had found that in each other, and neither of you were willing to ever compromise it.

The way he treated you with the upmost respect, the upmost care, the upmost affection brimming in each touch, the way he showed you each and every day how much you meant to him, it all felt as if a dream.

A beautiful, magnificent dream, you never wanted to be awaken from.

Snapping out of your impromptu stargaze, to the sound of Keanu’s snicker, your ears perk up.

“Huh?” you ask, brows furrowing.

“I asked if you were alright, sweetheart.” He repeats, picking up the weighted dumbbell from in front, to put it away for you.

You wipe your hand across your forehead, tightening your ponytail in the process.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, was just thinking about something.” You respond, smiling at him. He kisses your shoulder, rubbing your forearm lightly.

“Want me to grab you a mat?” he proposes, taking a drag of his water bottle. It was one of those monstrous 2 litre big ones, which you found incredibly extra on his part. Nonetheless, your petite, 16-ounce regular sized bottle looked pretty cute next to his.

“Yeah, I’m almost ready to go home honestly.” You sigh, lacing your hand with his, leaning your head on his shoulder for a brief exhaustion break. His toned bicep muscles felt hard under your head, a quality so easily, astoundingly attractive. Planting a kiss on your head, he moves to grab a black, shining yoga mat for you.

Even at a place like the gym, where the entire point is to move around, Keanu still brought things to you, being the gentleman he was. You’d often tell him to stop, as you’re perfectly capable of doing things for yourself. He wouldn’t budge though; it was almost a habit at this point.

A habit of always making his girl’s life easier.

Taking position, you watch Keanu revert back to his place by the bench, using an incredibly massive sum of weight to complete some bicep curls. Gosh, his arms look so fucking good, glistening with a thin layer of sweat, pumping the weights…

Exhaling with a shake of the head, you begin to work on some squats, making sure your stance and form were perfectly proportionate, flawless. The seamless fabric of your jet black workout tights stretches to accommodate each movement, your ass looking heavenly in the complex mirror.

You see Keanu staring from his place, clearly biting his lip. Unable to control, you let a small smile creep to your lips, realizing this was definitely turning him on. You make sure to stick your ass out a little more, enjoying the effect you had on him, knowing there was nothing he could do until you got home.

Still mindlessly pumping the weights, you would’ve swore you saw him lightly, briefly palm his bulge. The veins in his arms had become more prominent, the outlines so breathtakingly protruding with each lift, breathing in deep with a shaky exhale as his eyes gloss over your sensually perfect figure.

With your legs bending again, arms held out front with a clasp, you smirk his way.

“Stop staring, babe.” You mouth to him, simpering, never stopping your reps, eyeing the other patrons thoughtlessly routining around.

His eyes divert to your behind, watching how perfectly plump it shows on display each time you bend. No matter how many times he’d been with you, no matter how many times he’d had you, browsed his hands over each part of your divinely sculpted body, you’d still had a perplexing effect on him, flaunting your figure, knowing he wanted it, but couldn’t have it right in this moment.

Setting the weight down with a shaky breath, before trudging over to you, his sweaty palm lays warm against the small of your back, as his hoarse voice speaks into your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I need you. Now.”

You furrow your brows, expression disorderly, borderline shocked.

“We’re in public, Ke.” You mouth, emphasising.

He comes closer, his front bushing against yours, head resting on your shoulder, close enough to whisper, as his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings on your behind.

“There’s a single use restroom in the back, darling…”

You pull back, to look him straight into his obviously insane, earthy eyes. He couldn’t be for real.

Keanu and you had a very healthy sex life, despite his older age. His experience accumulated made him an ideal lover, you’d be lying if you said the thought of him taking you didn’t send your knees weak each time. Being with him was one of your favourite feelings in the entire world…but in public? At the gym?

It seemed a bit too wild.

“We’ll get caught. And not to mention, it’s illegal.” You affirm, whispering so only he could hear.

“We’ll be quick, baby. I need my girl…” he kisses the crook of your neck, whispering, lacing his fingers with yours, the other hand smoothing your hips. Against your stomach, his bulge pokes, making you swallow in anticipation.

He really had a way with his words.

Glancing around for a clear coast, you feel yourself giving in to the feel of his large palm on your skin, smoothing up and down. Running a hand swift through your hair, a mutter breaks under your breath.

“Fine.”

Lacing his hand in yours, you wait until the people around are completely occupied in their regime, Keanu trailing behind you as you stride to the back restroom. Feeling a rush of adrenaline cast over you, peeving in, you suddenly become increasingly excited, aroused.

You quickly open the door, eyes still glancing around on the lookout, as you enter, pulling Keanu in behind you to the small restroom. With a thud, the door locks securely closed, you unconsciously nip at the skin on your bottom lip, staring Keanu.

Within seconds, he’s backed you up against the wall, his lips taking place on yours, kissing hungrily. Intertwining your hands in his lengthy, raven mane, tugging ever so slightly, his bulky hands roam your body, sneaking into the band of your sports bra.

“You have to be quiet, okay sweetheart?” he breaths, breaking the kiss, never breaking eye contact. You tend to be quite vocal while you’re active, expressing how amazing he makes you feel each time, he knew that darn well.

You nod your head rapidly, bringing your hand to rest over his, guiding it over to repose on your sports bra clad chest, urging to feel him touch you more. Placing a quick kiss to your lips, he brings both hands to tug the bra over your breasts, allowing them to fall free, completely unrestricted, exposed for him. They bounce beautifully, so plump, making his bulge only grow bigger.

He leans down, hands still secured on your waist as your rest on his shoulders, to place a few wet kisses over your modesty.

“So fucking beautiful, baby.” He breaths into the dip of your cleavage, placing another kiss on the soft skin.

“We have to be quick, Ke.” You whisper, palming his now very prominent erection, biting your lip in eagerness. In a swift movement, you snake your hand into the waistband of his sweats, into his boxers, grabbing a hold of his swollen cock. Stroking him with your soft, petite hand, you see him glance down, throwing his head back, eyes clasped shut in relief from your touch.

“Feel good, baby?” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his chest, still stroking his generous length.

“So good..” he barely manages to choke out. With his stocky digits, he returns the favour, trailing them into the waistband of your panties, rubbing along the seams of your drenched cunt. His touch is deliciously blissful, sending the pit of your stomach drifting with butterflies of pure liberation, but not enough. You needed him. All of him.

You buck into his touch, still stroking his generous length, as two of his thick, sturdy fingers explore your entrance, barely thrusting in. The sounds of your wetness can already be heard, saturating, dowsing his fingers as they move.

“So wet, princess.” He remarks, placing a few more wet kisses to your neck, as you both touch each other, preparing for the taking. “Can you take these off for me, sweetheart?” he probes, free hand smoothing over the fabric of your tights.

In a swift motion, you slide down your tights, pooling at your ankles as your hands remove from Keanu’s boxers.

“Ke, I can’t wait any longer. Please.” You murmur. Sliding his own sweats down slightly, just enough to allow his member loose, seeping with clear, liquidly pre cum, Keanu immediately pumps himself a few times, before setting his hand on the back of your thigh. Leaning in close, his gruff voice whispers,

“I need you to bring this around my waist, darling.”

Adhering, you wrap your leg around his waist, tight, fixating him in place. His herculean arms wrap around your waist, propping you up slightly to allow himself better access. With the tip of his cock close to your entrance, he confirms.

“Ready, love?” He presses a quick kiss to your lips. Keanu could be rough, animalistic, demandingly dominant when you wanted him to, however, much of the time, he was caring, gentle, and loving. He’d focus entirely on making you feel good, leaving his own needs second.

But right now wasn’t the time to be gentle.

“So ready.” You smile, bringing your hands to plant on his ass to urge him in. Slowly, gradually, he takes hold of his large, sizeably thick cock, guiding himself into you with one hard thrust.

Inch by inch, he’s big, beautiful, and warm. You simultaneously moan in unison, sighing in relief as he fills you whole, throbbing between your soaking walls. He halts once fully in, allowing you to adjust to him. No matter how many times you’d had him, you always needed a few moments to stretch, accommodating him.

Once primed, you nod your head, letting out a breathy exhale, nodding you head, urging him to thrust.

Rapidly moving his hips to the constrained time you both had, he makes sure to thrust up into you fully each time, slipping out entirely coated in your slickness, before plummeting back in. Rocking his hips perfectly, flawless, he hits the sensitive bundle of nerves in your mid each time, leaving wet kisses all over your skin, your breasts, your neck. He’s effortlessly gliding in and out of you, your slickness, sleekly coating his cock so wholly. The sound of his skin slapping yours fills the room, your nerves threatening to snap at how expertly he’s working you.

“Do you think there’s.....oh god.....fuck, Ke...” Stuttering, you stifle to finish your sentence with him bouncing you on his cock against the wall. “Cameras? In here?” you finally choke out, whimpering as his movements pick up pace, heaving breathy exhales.

His lips part slightly, barely managing to string a sentence together. “I.....don’t care, darling.......fuck... I won’t be able to stop when you feel this fucking...” his words cease as he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing his jaw & muscles. “This fucking tender, wet. You feel fucking amazing, sweetheart.”

You moan breathlessly against his skin, one of your arms wrapped around his neck, your other hand fixing on his shoulder, holding desperately as he thrusts hastily up in you. You’re sure you looked a hot mess, hair falling out of your perfectly fashioned ponytail, breasts hanging out of your half taken off bra with your bottoms sprawled on the floor, your boyfriend’s hands planted firm on your hips, holding you in place as he drills in and out of you.

“Ke. Fuck…oh Ke...” you moan as he moves out diligently, the sound of your wetness audible in the four walls of the restroom. You hate how much the sound of him sliding in and out turns you on, his skin slapping your skin so flamboyantly, knowing how good you’re making him feel. He lets out grunts and mumbles, muttering a few obscenities, watching his rock hard cock pump you firm.

With his movements bouncing your entire figure up and down, you looked just as deliciously lewd as any unkempt goddess. Each curve, each crease of your femininity, captivatingly ambrosial, a striking siren sending him spiraling out of reality.

With a particularly loud moan sauntering out of you, Keanu brings his fingers to your lips, gently inserting his index and middle fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, muffling your whines. 

“Shhh baby, we gotta be quiet.” He rasps, as you bury your face in his chest, eyes threatening to burn at the feeling of complete paradise he’s channeling into you.  

“I’m trying…” you moan, eyes snapped shut as his thrusts shake your entire body, your breasts bouncing beautifully to the rhythm he’s set.

“You’re fucking me so good, Ke. So fucking good.” You whimper through clenched teeth, hands holding onto him tighter now, the burn between your legs threatening to spill over any moment.

He lets out shallow, breathy moans laced with incoherent gasps as he slips himself in and out, lips chanting your name nonchalantly, calloused fingers digging into your hips, possibly brusing. He sucks in a sharp breath when you bring your hand down to toy, massaging his balls, knowing it helped send him over the edge.

Keanu fastens his eyes shut, resting his forehead against yours, as he thrusts in and out at an arduous pace. Groans and moans escape his mouth, his searing breath kissing your skin, so close. You twist your hand in his silky, dark locks again, pulling him closer. They’re damp with sweat, dripping almost at the ends, only turning you on more. You’re almost in astonishment at how well he’s pouring his might into you, each thrust so appreciative. You both breath heavily, lost in each other’s touch. Cradling the back of your neck, he shudders, while speaking.

“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you, sweetheart?” With his forehead still pressed against yours, the sweat lingering between your skin, pleasurable shocks sauntered your entire bodies, each coming closer to letting go completely. “Sticking your ass out like that for me to see, you knew exactly what you were doing, babygirl.”

With your nails grazing, raking across the dense, well-defined muscles on his back, you hum back.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

He lets out a particularly hefty grunt when you clench around him suddenly, your cunt tightening around his cock.

“You probably made every other guy in that room drool,” he groans, watching the way your eyes are shut, mouth slightly a gape as he rams in and out of you, leaving you flustered with each thrust. “But none of them get to fuck you like I do.” He declares, sucking a mark into the skin of your neck, as you rest against the wall, sinful looking. 

With a whine, you buck your hips forward, into him greater. Your lips drop tongue tied, muddled whispers, “deeper, more Ke, more”, you send him gulping with shock waves of delectation growing through his body.

“Harder, baby, please, I’m so close.”

“Harder, princess?” his is voice deep, groaning, pouring more of himself into you now, briskly. He opens his eyes to see you, your eyes still closed, flustered, taking in shallow, moany breaths. Every now and then, a gasp of complete pleasure and inclination leaves your rosy lips, as his hands explore each part of your body, pouring heaps of affection. Your skin is glowing, glimmering with sweat as he rocks you, his own face glistening under the twinkling pot lights of the restroom.

He’s burying himself gaping, deep, profound inside, fully, each time, you feel him twitch and throb immensely now, knowing he’s nearing completion. You silently admire his figure, each feature, thanking the universe for allowing him to be yours.

As he brings his finger down to toy with your clit, knowing it’d snap the last nerve, Keanu presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, speaking. “I want you to let go for me, sweetheart. Come all over my cock.”

His deep, intense voice is enough to help send you over the edge, paired delightfully with the feel of his thumb circling your clit, each vein in his hefty erection providing more and more pressure as you feel yourself clenching around his girthy cock, practically screaming into the skin of his chest. In an instant, you wail out a cry into his chest, trying to muffle the sound so patrons of the club wouldn’t hear, as your orgasm consumes you whole.

Without Keanu’s resilient arms holding your frame tight, you swore you would have collapsed. Your body falls dainty and flimsy, still panting in attempts to come down from your ethereal high. He pumps in and out of you still through your climax, as his own approaches.

“I’m…I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe.” he whispers against your hair. You begin the feel yourself oversensitive, huffing and puffing as you lean your head back on the wall, watching his eyes roll back as his end is near.

Jerking his hips rapidly, he shudders with his cock twitching, his damp hair falls in his face as he releases. Within an instance, his cock is shooting his creamy, heavy load deep, deep inside you, resting as all his seed spills out into you. His head finds comfort, your breasts providing him a safe haven as you bring your hands to wrap around his head, massaging his scalp gently as he collects himself.

Chest rising and falling heavily, both your breaths struggling to return to normal pace, Keanu wraps his arms tighter around you now, his cock still buried inside you, as his head rests on top of yours, fingers stroking your hair comfortingly as you snap back into reality. Pulling your gaze up to stare at him, you both giggle once your eyes lock.

“You alright, love?” he inquires, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Of course. Fuck, that was fun.” You chuckle quietly, resting your hands on his shoulders. He looks divine, so perfectly gorgeous, skin flushed a light shade of patchy pink, sweat beads glistening, peppering his pale skin. His gray muscle shirt has erupted darker patches of sweat now, the action you both had just endured much greater of a workout than anything you did outside.

Slowly, cautiously, Keanu pulls himself out of you, his cock dropping flaccid, hot and heavy against his thigh. You kiss him quick, before pulling your tights back up your legs. “But we need to get out of here, quick before anyone sees.”

He runs a shaky hand through his tangle of locks, catching his breath. With collection of a few spare paper towels, he wipes himself off, handing you a few to follow suit. 

A chuckle bypasses his lips, as he gathers himself back into his sweats. You lick your lips watching him store away his length, baffled still, at the thought of that monstrosity of a cock attaining to fit inside you. 

“Fuck, you never fail to make me weak. 3 squats in and you had me throbbing in my pants.” He helps you pull your bra back down over your breasts, tucking them perfectly back into the fabric. He finishes by placing a kiss to the valley of your chest, bringing your hand up to lace with his.

Soothing your hands over your outfit one last time, making sure everything was in place, you inquire.

“Do I look okay? Can you tell I just got fucked senseless in the bathroom by my boyfriend or…?”

Keanu lets out a louder than intended laugh, bringing your palm up to kiss. “You look perfect, sweetheart. Do I look…collected?” he asks in return.

You giggle, cupping his cheek. “Handsome as ever.”

-

The doorknob turns open with a creek, as you poke your head out, checking the coast. When all seems clear, you tug gently on Keanu’s hand, urging him to come out with you. Walking casually, you keep an eye out, hoping you weren’t in there for too long.

Much to your dismay, a gym employee catches glimpse of you both hand in hand, rushing out of the washroom, looks of flushed, rosy skin glistening as if you’d just endured an intense cardio session.

“Excuse me sir, why were you both in there together?” he questions, staring you down, as you both continue to trek towards the exit doors.

“My girlfriend needed help with her zipper.” Keanu replies unconcernedly, as you lead him to the end of the exit.

The gym keeper diverts his gaze in confusion, returning to organizing the equipment at hand,

before realizing, much to his shock,

That Y/N wore a simple outfit of tights and a sports bra,

With no zipper

in sight.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

A/N : okay maybe not my best piece, but I hope it was alright 🖤

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[rediscoveringmichelle]

An Apple a day keeps the cravings away

January 2021, back in London after spending Christmas at home in Ireland with my family. This time had been a very different experience to the last. Freer, both mentally and physically. The last time I had been home was at the beginning of the global pandemic, restricted to the 2km radius of my home in Clontarf, North Dublin. However, on this occasion not only had restrictions been lifted by the Taoiseach for the Christmas period, I had lifted my own restrictions too. The beginning of the pandemic was the turning point of my recovery and now, 9 months later, I was no longer limiting myself to 3 healthy meals per day, with no snacks and a strict schedule of two 10km runs per week and a minimum 2 and half hours of walking per day. I felt happier and healthier than I had been in years, able to relax and enjoy late night glasses of wine and mince pies with my parents, meals out with friends and the odd day of rest and relaxation with nothing but a few hours of TV to pass the day. It didn’t matter how much weight I had put on; I had gained my life and laugh back, and I would be forever grateful for the lesson I had learnt thanks to this awful pandemic. That making myself thinner and fitter, didn’t make me any happier. And that being physically healthy is nothing if you destroy your mental and social health too.

January 2018 was really where it all began. Recently single and having spent a lot of my newfound freedom on nights out, eating takeaways and drinking large volumes of alcohol, I had understandably put on a bit of weight. The guy I had been seeing, suddenly stopped texting me and I felt rejected. My parents were back to living their lives after their run-ins with poor health. Dad back to smothering his toast in thick layers of butter and Mum loving her newfound ‘real-Mum’ life of Pilates and coffee catch ups since selling her practice for good. I was no longer needed. Mum didn’t need me to drive her to chemo or cook my Dad his no red meat, no oil, no salt dinners. I felt anxious as they went back to living their lives. No longer able to control them, especially my dad. I couldn’t force him into living a by-the-book healthy lifestyle. But I figured what I could control was myself. I could be the healthiest person I could possibly be. And with the added benefit of making that guy wish he’d never let me go. My perfectionist self would ensure that I would be the perfect picture of health. No cheating, no dieting, just a new lifestyle. A new me. One I could love.

I scoured the internet for all the advice on changing your lifestyle, getting fit and losing weight. Running apparently boosted your metabolism and was an efficient way to burn calories and fat. So, I started by running 5km, three times a week. Weights would help then to reduce my body fat and tone up so I coupled the running with strength training in the gym, also three times a week. I pounded out Kelsey Wells workout routines, while listening to ‘This is me’ from The Greatest Showman, a song about not being afraid to show the world exactly who you are, as I was ironically punishing my body into a shape that was not naturally me. I strictly followed Dad’s cardiologist’s advice and cooked everything from scratch, substituting beef mince for turkey mince and not using oil, butter or salt in my cooking. I cut out all snacks and limited myself to three meals per day. Social Media became my home ground for weight loss advice. ‘You’re not hungry, you’re thirsty. Drink some water.’ ‘No pain, no gain.’ ‘Ignore your cravings and they will eventually go away.’ ‘Craving sugar? Have an apple instead’. Each day would end with eating an apple to stave off the cravings and to quieten the rumbles in my stomach.

I started weighing my food, tracking everything from litres of water drunk and then steps walked and active minutes of exercise. I upped my runs gradually to 10km, twice a week because social media told me that after running for 35 minutes, you no longer just burn calories, but also fat. And yes, I do realise that anyone who has a degree in anything science related would quickly realise these were all completely made up and not based on fact, but I guess I wanted to believe them. I would believe anything that forced me to push (or punish) myself more. I stopped going out for drinks or dinner with friends. Too many calories and too worried that I wouldn’t be able to get up and run in the morning, unable to flex from the specific days I went running, for fear I would never run again. When I moved to London, I spent my weekends walking 40 thousand steps so that I could then earn a slice of banana bread from Deliciously Ella’s Vegan & Gluten Free Deli. I felt a rush of joy wash over me each time I saw the number on the scales or the minutes of my 10km runs decline, but like a drug, the high didn’t last long. I was addicted. I had no trust in myself. ‘You’re so controlled’, they complimented me. But deep down, I felt like there was a lazy, sugar and fat loving girl inside me. An imposter in a gradually reducing body. Fearing that just one biscuit and I would be back as that unhappy and overweight rejected girl.

I really believed that being thinner and looking like those girls I idolised on Instagram would make me happier. They were all smiling, surely that meant they were happy? As the compliments turned to concern, I felt that surely people were just jealous of how much weight I had managed to lose. Weight loss was something to be proud of, wasn’t it? The truth of it all didn’t hit me until the pandemic. As I sat up in my bed struggling to breathe on the night of the Taoiseach’s first lockdown announcement, I started to wonder what I was really fearing. During a time when people were dying, all I could fear was not being able to exercise enough and being locked up in a house full of food. I feared putting on weight and relinquishing control. I felt trapped with nothing to look forward to. Holidays cancelled and my boyfriend of two months at home with his family 167km away in Belfast. That was my rock bottom.

In an effort to cheer myself up I started to make a list of all the things I wanted to do post lockdown. Have date nights in with my boyfriend, making pizzas, ordering takeaways and eating breakfast in bed. Then the excitement of getting to do these things started to dwindle as the anxiety crept in, as I tried to count up how much exercise I would need to do in order to earn those nights. A day in bed with no exercise? Nope, that’s a no go. And that’s when it hit me. I had made myself thin, with the thought that then I would be lovable and that then I could enjoy my life. But I was thinner, thinner than I’d been since I was a preteen and I still wouldn’t let myself go enough to do the things I deeply wanted to do. To let myself enjoy life. How freeing it would be to just, let go!

My love for learning kicked in and I made the decision to start reading up and educating myself. I came across a book my mum had not so subtly left lying around the house. ‘Just Eat it – How Intuitive eating can help you get your shit together around food’ by Laura Thomas. I didn’t believe I had an eating disorder until I started reading her book. As she listed off the disorders, she then came to Orthorexia – defined as an unhealthy obsession with healthy eating or over exercising. ‘When was the last time you even asked yourself what you’d like instead of what you ‘can’ or ‘should’ eat?’ she queried. The sad reality was that I couldn’t remember. ‘We trust our phones more than we trust our bodies’. Well that was certainly true for me. She used science, showing that weight was in fact not a determinant of health but that by exercising, eating healthy and not smoking we could be healthy, regardless of our size. That eating a donut didn’t in fact negate the nutrients of the carrot we ate earlier. And that white flour was actually infused with calcium and that those carbs are what give us energy to move and enjoy life. My eyes gradually opened to all the lies diet culture had taught me and I felt empowered.

I moved on to more books and podcasts and started culling my social media feed of anyone that didn’t make me feel good. I started following intuitive eating dietitians and anti-diet advocates. Following people of all shapes and sizes and realising how biased our society is towards people in smaller bodies. Not just the size of airplane seats but assuming that all health issues experienced by fat people can be solved by weight loss. I learnt that the night sweats I had been experiencing, the pretty much non-existent sex drive and the inability to maintain body heat for any length of time were in fact all side effects of the restricted eating and over-exercising. Half the time I didn’t even look as thin as I had become because I was wearing so many layers of clothes in order to keep warm. Walking around the house with a hot water bottle strapped to my waist and wearing a fur coat indoors while out for dinner with friends. Only now can I laugh at the image of it. I started to make a list of all the things I would gain through gaining weight and glancing back over it now, I have gained all of these and more. My headspace, my laughter, my body heat and a fantastic relationship that I thankfully didn’t destroy because of my restrictive, anxious mind-set.

My recovery hasn’t been easy. The steps toward eating intuitively start with banishing your food rules and allowing yourself to eat what you want. A process that takes time before you can start tuning into your hunger and fullness cues again and introducing gentle nutrition. It involved allowing myself to devour entire tubs of Oatly chocolate fudge ice-cream, multiple evenings per week. Making my way through all the delicious Deliveroo takeaway options London had to offer – Honest Burgers red meat beef burgers with rosemary salted fries, Franco Manca pizzas, with all the toppings, and Kin & Deum Thai curries, with full fat coconut milk. Gradually I started being able to listen to my body and trust it. Whether it hungered for a salmon stir-fry or was seeking out a slice of chocolate cake. The interesting thing being, that months later it now craves nutritious food the majority of the time. And that by allowing it to have higher sugar or fat containing foods whenever it wants, I no longer feel out of control around them. I no longer find myself devouring three large sized bags of crisps in one sitting, overtaken by the fear that I will never let myself eat them again.

I have days where I find myself critiquing my larger thighs in the mirror but instead of allowing the thoughts consume me, I allow them float by with curiosity and continue about my day knowing that the way I look doesn’t define me and that the greatest things about me have nothing to do with my body shape or size. I am a thoughtful friend, who prides herself at remembering important moments in friends’ lives. A courageous girl who isn’t afraid to try new things, whether that be travelling solo across Vietnam or signing up to a surf and yoga retreat in Cornwall. A creative person who loves to draw and a lifelong learner that is open to new ideas and wants to challenge her way of thinking. My body will change a lot over the next 50 plus years of my life, but the great thing is that thanks to freeing myself from the disease, I get to look forward to the possibility of being alive for that long and to enjoying every waking moment, no longer postponing life for when I look or am a certain way.

© Michelle McCarthy January 2021

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – HANGING ON (S01E05)

Hallie Thomas: Hello? 

Matt Casey: Just checking in.

Hallie Thomas: I’m fine…

                          Really… I should be checking on you.

Matt Casey: Not a care in the world.

                      Turn here.

Hallie Thomas: Some gang cop breaks into our cars, and you  

                           don’t have a care in the world?

Matt Casey: That’s right. Just another day. 

Hallie Thomas: I want it noted for the record that I don’t believe a  

                          word you’re saying.

Matt Casey: Good thing you’re a doctor and not a lawyer, because 

                      I’m just gonna let this blow over. Call you later.

                      I’ll just be a minute.

Peter Mills: Lieutenant.

                                        [truck door shuts]

Lady 1 (lady on the phone): Sir, um, you can’t go in there. Sir?

                                      [door swings open]

Hank Voight: Listen, I have a visitor. I’ll get back to you.

                                         [receiver clicks]

Matt Casey: Stay away from me.

Hank Voight: Excuse me?

Matt Casey: I’m telling you to back off. 

                     I’m telling you and whatever garbage you have   

                     working under you to stay the hell away from 

                     us.

Hank Voight: Sir, I don’t know what this department did to…

Matt Casey: I mean it. 

Hank Voight: Get your ass out of my office before I throw you  

                       through that window.

Matt Casey: The threats don’t work, Voight. 

                      I’m not some scared banger begging for a look the  

                      other way. Know this…I’m not retracting my 

                      statement. Ever.

                      What, you all afraid of this guy? Huh?

                      Someone tell me why.

Hank Voight: Alright, come on, get back to work. Show’s over.

(Over radio): Truck 81. Factory accident, Ogden and Ash.

                                            [engine starts]

Matt Casey: Drive.

                                          [truck door shuts]

                                                  cutscene

Man 1: He’s over here.

             Move out of the way. Move! Move!

Kelly Severide: How we doing?

Victim 1: [panting] I just need some help getting it out.

Kelly Severide: Okay, well, just stay with us.

Christopher Herrmann: The power’s off, it’s locked out. Holy cow.

Mouch: Bone saw.

Gabby Dawson: What do we got?

Leslie Shay: Excuse me.

Kelly Severide: Trapped arm,

Gabby Dawson: How are you feeling?

Victim 1: Not so good to tell you the truth.

Gabby Dawson: [whispers] That’s a lot of blood.

                            What’s your name, hun?

Victim 1: [clears throat] Garrett.

Gabby Dawson: Garrett, how long you been stuck, hun?

Victim 1 (Garrett): [groans & whimpers] I don’t know.

Gabby Dawson: [yelling] How long’s he been stuck?

Man 1: Going on 15.

Victim 1 (Garrett): [groans]

Firefighter: Here it is.

Leslie Shay: There we go.

Gabby Dawson: Okay, we gotta get him out now.

Kelly Severide: Alright, I loosen it up a little bit.

Victim 1 (Garrett): Good. 

Gabby Dawson: Garrett, we’re just gonna put some morphine in  

                            alright? Give us a minute.

Leslie Shay: You good?

Firefighter: Mmhmm. 

Leslie Shay: Alright sweetie, I gave you some morphine. You 

                     should feel better soon, okay?

Gabby Dawson: Garrett, we’re gonna try to ease your arm out now, 

                            okay?

Victim 1 (Garrett): [whimpering]

Gabby Dawson: Here we go. One…Two…three.

Victim 1 (Garrett): [screams] No! Stop! I can’t! I can’t!

                                           - Title Screen -

Matt Casey: Gear segments come right off. 

Hadley: What do you need?

Matt Casey: Wait. If we get the gears off, we can separate the  

                      casing and travel with it. We need power drills, 

                      ¼ inch hex, an Allen key. 

Capp: Excuse me, Sir.

Matt Casey: Mills, do the gears.

Capp: Here you go, Lieutenant.

Gabby Dawson: Okay?

Victim 1 (Garrett): [grunting]

                               God.

Kelly Severide: Let me in.

Peter Mills: Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Victim 1 (Garrett): God!

Matt Casey: Come on.

                                           [drill buzzes]

Victim 1 (Garrett): [groaning]

Kelly Severide: Watch out, buddy.

                          Come on, Mills.

                          Support it, support it.

Gabby Dawson: Ready? Gurney’s coming in, guys.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Hadley: Back up, back up, back up.

Leslie Shay: Behind you.

Peter Mills: Clear?

Firefighter: We’re clear.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Gabby Dawson: You good?

Matt Casey: Take it.

Hadley: Got it.

Victim 1 (Garrett): [screams] Oh God!

Kelly Severide: Watch it, watch it.

Firefighter: Got it, got it.

Leslie Shay: Sit down, sweetie. Sit down. Sit down. 

Kelly Severide: Do his legs. Do his legs.

Peter Mills: Just lay down. Lay down.

Victim 1 (Garrett): [groans]

Gabby Dawson: Alright, let’s get him out of here.

Leslie Shay: Casey, Severide, we need you guys. We gotta get this 

                     rig off.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

                                          [train horn blaring]

Victim 1 (Garrett): [groans]

                               God!

Gabby Dawson: Grab the I.V., set it to 5 millilitres drip.

                            We need 4x4s to stop this bleeding and call  

                            Lakeshore and tell them…[continues 

                            indistinctly]

Matt Casey: Ugh.

Kelly Severide: You all right?

Matt Casey: I didn’t sleep well.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, let’s go.

                                             [sirens wailing]

Leslie Shay: Possible crush syndrome, gave four of morphine,   

                     heart rate 130, his BP 110  palp, 2 litres of saline.

Victim 1 (Garrett): Call my boss, tell him…tell him that I’ll be there 

                               tomorrow, so don’t worry about… covering my 

                               shift.

Kelly Severide: Dude really loves his job.

Gabby Dawson: Ready on three.

                            One, two, three.

Victim 1 (Garrett): [screams] Oh, God!

                               [mumbling]

Nurse 1: He’s out. 

Hallie Thomas: Tourniquet’s on. 

                           And we’re ready here.

Matt Casey: Alright, let’s get this thing off.

                     Okay. This piece should just slide out.

                     Here. Ready?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Matt Casey: Thank you.

Hallie Thomas: Ease his arm.

Matt Casey: There’s two pieces.

Kelly Severide: I’ll grab it. I got it.

Hallie Thomas: Type and cross four units stat. I need  

                           compression. Get him to O.R. five. 

                           Go, go, go.

                           What a way to start the day.

Matt Casey: Not exactly.

Kelly Severide: Good to see you, Hallie.

Hallie Thomas: You too.

                           Well?

Matt Casey: Went to the CPD this morning; talked to Voight.

Hallie Thomas: You two talked it out?

Matt Casey: No.

                     I yelled.

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

                          Don’t suppose you could point me towards the  

                          Toradol? I might have twisted my shoulder again.

Leslie Shay: You’re dreaming.

Kelly Severide: Alright, don’t point. Just look toward it. I’ll do the 

                          rest.

Leslie Shay: Ugh.

                     [sighs]

                     [grunts in frustration]

Hallie Thomas: You don’t have to do it yourself.

Matt Casey: Then who else is gonna do it?

Hallie Thomas: The system…[continues indistinctly]

Leslie Shay: We ready?

Hallie Thomas: I want you to come home to me, Matt.

Gabby Dawson: Whatever.

                                               cutscene

Mouch: So wait, this bioactive refreshment can only be found on   

              what, Chebeague Island?

Christopher Herrmann: No, genius, it starts there in a natural  

                                        spring. They infuse it with the protein  

                                        and enzymes after in a laboratory. 

                                        Listen, all I know is this kid that I grew up  

                                        with is making a mint hocking this stuff.  

                                        You should see his status reports on 

                                        Facebook or whatnot. 

Otis Zvonecek: I’m sure he’s got a brand new Mercedes and a hot 

                           wife. 

Christopher Herrmann: Something like that.

Chief Boden: Hey, where’s Casey?

Christopher Herrmann: Guy got his arm buried in a machine,   

                                        so he went with Shay and Dawson to 

                                        the hospital to unbury it.

Chief Boden: You guys know anything about a visit to the CPD 

                        today?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, we made a stop coming back from Caldwell, 

                           said he needed to talk to somebody.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: [gulping] That’s pretty good, actually. 

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, sells itself.

                                         I got plenty more, guys. Drink up.

                                                [chuckling]

                                                 cutscene

                                            [water running]

Kelly Severide: You were good under there…with that machine.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

                                                cutscene

Mouch: Dawson.

              A little thank you from the paramedics regulatory board for 

              saving the Madeline girl last month. That’s your copy.

Gabby Dawson: Unbelievable. 

                            [exhales] “This serves as an acknowledgement   

                            that you have read and understood why this 

                            written reprimand was issued.”

Leslie Shay: Dawson, I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again. You did the  

                     right thing, you know that. That girl would have died.

Mouch: Hey, it’s barely a slap on the wrist.

              I know Carla over there. I’ll make sure this goes right into  

              her circular file.

Gabby Dawson: Thanks, Mouch.

                            Oh, chives in the eggs. My day is getting better 

                            already.

Peter Mills: Thank you. Look.

Gabby Dawson: Hot sauce? Ugh, sorry.

Peter Mills: Lieutenant Casey, you eating?

Matt Casey: No.

Peter Mills: Okay.

Chief Boden: Casey, come with me.

Chief Grogan: The allegations are unfounded.

Chief Boden: Unfounded? I’m sorry, Chief Grogan, this has got 

                        Voight’s name written all over it.

Chief Grogan: There are no witnesses that Detective Voight was  

                         anywhere but on the job Halloween night.

                         Do you know how many tires got slashed that day?

Chief Boden: 15 years he worked gang unit. You don’t think he’s 

                        got a few locals who can do his dirty work?

Chief Grogan: And that is exactly why we have Internal Affairs and 

                        the A.S.A.’s office investigating. But I gotta tell you, 

                        without a direct link, what do you suggest we do, 

                        Chief Boden?

Chief Boden: I suggest you handle your precinct.

Chief Grogan: Wait just a damn minute.

Chief Boden: My Lieutenant and his fiancée are being harassed.  

                       Don’t you tell me to wait.

Matt Casey: Forget it, Chief. CPD isn’t gonna help. 

                     I’ll do it my own way.

Chief Boden: Casey, no. 

Matt Casey: Give me a better alternative.

                     Something.

Antonio Dawson: I’ll be the primary.

                              I.A., A.S.A., they got fish frying all over the city. 

                              I’ll take the lead on this. 

Chief Grogan: That’s fine by me.

                         We good here?

Chief Boden: Yeah, we’re good.

                                                   cutscene

                               [phone unlocks, keypad beeping]

Kelly Severide: [grunts] Anna, hey, it’s Kelly Severide. Sorry I  

                           haven’t called you back sooner. I changed 

                           cell phone numbers, and it was a big hassle. 

                           Anyway, look forward to hearing from you. 

                           Um, give me a call back when you have a 

                           chance.

                                               [phone locks]

Kelly Severide: [exhales and inhales sharply]

                                    [alarm sounds, PA buzzes]

Kelly Severide: [sighs]

(Over PA): Squad 3, Truck 94. Construction accident, 6248 South 

                  Francisco.

                                 [sirens wailing, horns honking]

Victim 2: [screams] Help! 

Victim 3: I can’t hold him!

Victim 2: Hurry! Help me! 

Victim 3: He’s slipping!

Victim 2: I can’t hold out! Help!

Kelly Severide: I’ll need your aerial on the other side of the church. 

                          Do the best you can, we’ll do the rest. 

                          Let’s gear up.

Victim 3: I can’t hold it!

Kelly Severide: Vargas, when they lock it down, have the rope bag   

                           at the ladder ready to go.

Jose Vargas: Got it.

Kelly Severide: Get that truck over there! Let’s go!

                                             [horn blaring]

Victim 3: I can’t…I can’t hold him.

Victim 2: Help! Please!

                                   [chatter on emergency radio]

Kelly Severide: Talk to me.

Victim 3: He’s slipping.

Victim 2: I’m loose!

Kelly Severide: Try to stay still. 

Victim 2 & 3: [whimpering & grunting] Hurry!

Kelly Severide: Coming to you. You hold tight now.

Victim 3: I can’t – I can’t hold him!

Victim 2: Help! Please! 

                                     [indistinct chatter on radio]

Kelly Severide: Alright, hang on me.

Victim 2: I-I can’t move.

Kelly Severide: Can you reach out with your other arm?

Victim 2: I can’t move it, no.

Victim 3: It’s my fault.

Kelly Severide: It’s alright. Just be calm, okay. We’re gonna get  

                          both of you down.

Victim 2 & 3: [whimpering]

Capp: This blue line’s for you. Gonna hook you up, take you down 

           first. 

Hadley: Line secure!

Kelly Severide: Okay, you can let go of him, we’ve got it.

Victim 2: [grunting]

Capp: No need to push off. Small steps.

           Here we go.

Kelly Severide: Keep it steady up there, Hadley.

Victim 3: He told me not to walk along the top, and I didn’t listen. 

Kelly Severide: What’s your name?

Victim 3: It’s Ty.

Kelly Severide: All right. Well, hold on, Ty.

Victim 3 (Ty): No, don’t, don’t, don’t! My leg! My leg!

Capp: All the way to the pavement. You’ve got it. 

Kelly Severide: Give me your hand.

                                            [creaking]

Hadley: Kelly!

Victim 3 (Ty): [screams] Ahh!

Kelly Severide: Hey, hang on!

                          Hadley, get that rope up here!

Capp: Doing great, doing great.

           (over radio) All clear. Pick it up.

Kelly Severide: Hang on.    

Victim 3 (Ty): [groaning] 

Kelly Severide: Aah! 

                          [groans] Aah!

                          Ty, reach up. In my right leg pocket, there’s a knife. 

Victim 3 (Ty): I can’t.

Kelly Severide: Ty.

                           Hey, listen to me. You have to. Gotta lose that  

                           extra weight.

Victim 3 (Ty): [groaning]

                      Come on.

                      Ahh! 

Kelly Severide: Cut the line.

                          Watch out below!

                                                     [thud]

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

Victim 3 (Ty): [groans]

Kelly Severide: Ty, grab the line. Clamp it to your harness.

Victim 3 (Ty): I got it, I got it, I got it.

Kelly Severide: [yells] Okay, Hadley.

                           Ty, just slow now the rest of the way, alright?

Hadley: [grunting]

Tony & Capp: I got ya, I got ya.

Victim 3 (Ty): Ah, ah.

Kelly Severide: [silently groaning]

                                             [sirens wailing]

Kelly Severide: [breathing heavily & grunting]

                                                 cutscene

Jose Vargas: Hey Lieutenant, just so you know, I’ve completed all 

                       the descent rescue training. 

Kelly Severide: When I think you’re ready, you’ll be the first to know.

Jose Vargas: Right, I just didn’t want you to waste… 

Kelly Severide: Hey!

Jose Vargas: All your resources.

Kelly Severide: Let it go. I’ve got other things to worry about 

                          besides your career track.

Jose Vargas: [sighs]

Phone Operator: Please leave a message after the tone.

Kelly Severide: Hey, Anna, it’s Kelly again.

                          Listen, I really need you to call me back. If I don’t 

                          answer, you can just leave me a message. I’ll get 

                          back to you. Thanks.

                         [sniffs]

                                              [water running]

                                                 cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Red carpet treatment. I like it.

Cindy Herrmann: Mmhmm.

                                            [car door shuts]

Cindy Herrmann: My dad wants to know when he can put his  

                              snow blower back in the garage.

Christopher Herrmann: Oh, yeah?

Cindy Herrmann: Mmhmm.

Christopher Herrmann: Mm. 

Cindy Herrmann: Mm.

                                               [kissing sound]

Christopher Herrmann: We’ll be running through that water faster  

                                         than a blizzard in December. Trust me.

Cindy Herrmann: Just don’t put too much pressure on this idea, 

                             please?

                              We’ll be okay.

Christopher Herrmann: We’re getting a house, Cindy. The kids  

                                         need their own space. We need our 

                                         own space, hmm?

Cindy Herrmann: Mmhmm.

                                             [kissing sound]

Christopher Herrmann: Tell your dad to sell that metal lathe.  

                                         There’ll be plenty of room in there.

Cindy Herrmann: Don’t even mention the lathe.

Christopher Herrmann: Your mom uses it as a drying rack. 

Cindy Herrmann: Don’t.

                                           [car door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Anyone home?

Cindy Herrmann: No.

Christopher Herrmann: [growls]

Cindy Herrmann: Oh! [laughs]

Christopher Herrmann: Get over here!

                                          [door slamming]

                                                 cutscene

Matt Casey: [grunting]

                     [groaning]

Masked Men: [grunting & groaning]

Matt Casey: [grunting]

Hallie Thomas: No cracked ribs. You’re next in line for the CT scan.

                          Will you sit up for me?

Matt Casey: Yeah [groaning] 

Hallie Thomas: I need you to take some deep breaths, okay?

Matt Casey: Okay [breathes deeply]

Hallie Thomas: Again.

Matt Casey: [breathes deeply, raggedly] [groans]

Hallie Thomas: It sounds clear. That’s good.

                          You can lay back.

Matt Casey: [whimpers]

Chief Boden: Casey, how are you?

Antonio Dawson: So, no faces for these guys? Markings? Anything

                              distinguishable?

Matt Casey: One of them had a tattoo. Forearm.

Antonio Dawson: Left? Right?

Matt Casey: Left. 

                      Oh, God, maybe right.

Antonio Dawson: Think.

Matt Casey: I am thinking!

Antonio Dawson: [sighs] All right. All right, rest for a few.

Chief Boden: Matt. Matt! Believe me, I know what you’re going  

                       through, and I know what you’re thinking but we 

                       are gonna figure out how to do this the right way. 

                       Do you hear me? 

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Okay.

                       Okay, talk to me. What are you gonna do? 

Antonio Dawson: For starters, we gotta identify at least one of the 

                              attackers.  

Christopher Herrmann: Doesn’t matter. It was that Detective  

                                         yanking those kids’ strings. 

Antonio Dawson: I’m sure it was. But if I can’t connect the hitters  

                              to Voight, and Voight knows this better than  

                              anyone, we don’t have a thing.

Peter Mills: What can we do now, Chief?

Mouch: Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do. Grab a halligan and ring that  

              son of a bitch’s doorbell.

Chief Boden: You guys, keep your eyes forward, and you stay out  

                       of it. Support your Lieutenant. Have his back, that’s it.

Hallie Thomas: Think the Chief’s right. 

Matt Casey: I am not gonna sit back and take it. 

Hallie Thomas: I’m not saying that you should. But you make one  

                          wrong decision, and suddenly you’re the bad guy,  

                          and that’s exactly what he wants. 

Matt Casey: [ragged breathing]

Hallie Thomas: Promise me you’ll be careful. Promise.

Matt Casey: I promise.

                                            [kissing sound]

                                               cutscene

                                           [razor buzzing]

                                            [door chimes]

Chief Boden: Oh my god, how long’s the wait?

Terrance: [chuckles] What? Did I screw up that do of yours?

Chief Boden: No more than you usually do.

Terrance: Oh, [laughs] now you’re just begging for a long wait. 

Chief Boden: [laughs] 

                       Can I see you for a minute?

                                        [razor stops buzzing]

Terrance: Be right back, DJ.

Chief Boden: I got me a problem with a cop. White cop.

Terrance: Not the first time I’ve heard that complaint around here.

Chief Boden: He’s a dirty cop, Terrance. I need me someone who’ll  

                       wear a wire.

Terrance: Dirty white cop.

                 I’m into it.

                                                  cutscene 

Kelly Severide: Hey. 

                                             [kissing sound]

Anna: I about died when your name came up on my phone.

Kelly Severide: Yeah? Well, I’m glad you didn’t.

Anna: Are you still fighting fires?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, most of the time.

Anna: We were good together. Am I right?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, sure. We had our moments. For a while.

Anna: The coat room at the Drake.

Kelly Severide: Definitely a moment.

                           I have a favour to ask you, Anna.

Anna: I knew there was gonna be a catch.

           I’m staying at the Peninsula. Conference B.S. for the next

           three days. Pick a night, and ask me for your favour then.

                                                 cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs]

Otis Zvonecek: What’s up, Herrmann?

Christopher Herrmann: Nada.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah? You look like your dog just died.

Christopher Herrmann: That’s just insensitive.

                                         Alright, look, it’s just when I…

                                         Hey, Lieutenant.

Mouch: You should take a few more days, Casey. Well within your 

              rights.

Matt Casey: Eh, I’d just be staring at the ceiling. I’m going to look  

                     at mugshots.

Antonio Dawson: Speaking of, where do you wanna do this?

                              The guys who assaulted you have a record, 

                               guaranteed. Means they’ve been processed,  

                               and we have those tats on file. See if you can 

                               recall one of those.

Matt Casey: [grunts]

Gabby Dawson: Oh, sorry to interrupt. I’m just grabbing my stuff.

                            [whispers] Hey, any progress?

Antonio Dawson: We’ll get there. Unless you got a magic wand on 

                              you.

GabbyDawson: [laughs]

                                                 [phone rings]

Matt Casey: I gotta…[grunts] I gotta take it.

                      Hi.

Hallie Thomas: I, um, I’m just holding to our agreement.  

                          I’m checking in with you. You okay?

Matt Casey: Just looking at photographs of tattoos. 

Hallie Thomas: You never know.

Matt Casey: That’s right. 

Hallie Thomas: I love you.

Matt Casey: I love you too.

Gabby Dawson: [sighs]

Hallie Thomas: Do this the right way, or I may have to come down 

                          there. 

Matt Casey: [chuckles] 

                      So maybe the right way isn’t so right.

Hallie Thomas: Maybe not.

                                   [alarm sounds, PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61, head injury. Northwest corner of Hyde 

                  Park.

Gabby Dawson: Gotta go.

Antonio Dawson: Go get ‘em.

Gabby Dawson: Mmhmm.

                                                   cutscene

Leslie Shay: What’s his name?

Teen 1: What the hell difference does it make? His name’s Vince. 

             Fix him.

Leslie Shay: Vince, can you hear me?

                      All right, if you can hear me, don’t move, blink twice.

Gabby Dawson: C-collar.

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Teen 1: How long are you gonna leave him lying there? Get him in  

             the damn ambulance already!

Gabby Dawson: What happened?

Teen 1: We rode it off down this ramp, we flipped, he hit first.

Gabby Dawson: You on something, huh? What are you on? 

Teen 1: You need to shut up. Fix him, not me.

Gabby Dawson: Come on.

                            Here we go. On three. One, two, three.

Gabby Dawson: We’ll see you at the hospital. Lakeshore.

Teen 1: I’m going with him.

Gabby Dawson: No you’re not. 

Teen 1: This ain’t up to you lady.

             [groans]

Gabby Dawson: On behalf of the Paramedics Association of 

                            America, I offer my sincerest apologies for  

                            the forceful actions I exhibited here today.

                                                 [engine starts]

                                           [onlookers laughing]

                                                [sirens blares]

                                                    cutscene

                                                   [moaning]

Anna: My God I missed that.

           [exhales deeply]

Kelly Severide: I need a favour, Anna.

Anna: Can we just order a little room service first?

Kelly Severide: You asked me to meet you here, and I did.

Anna: Fine, go ahead. You want a favour, let’s hear it.

Kelly Severide: I need something…okay? Something strong.

                                                 cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Ah! Whoo.

Peter Mills: What is that?

Gabby Dawson: This is my leftovers. Chicken mac and cheese. 

                            Whoa! Hey! 

Peter Mills: No, no, no. That smell, I can’t be held responsible. 

Gabby Dawson: [scoffs]

Peter Mills: Where’d you get this?

Gabby Dawson: Oh, screw you, Mills. I made it.

Peter Mills: Okay, well, name the ingredients.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] I’m not gonna tell you that. It’s handed  

                            down from my grandmother – hey! It’s a secret.

Peter Mills: I will figure it out. 

Gabby Dawson: Many have tried, young Peter Mills. All have failed.

Peter Mills: Come on! Let me get one more bite at least.

Christopher Herrmann: (on phone) What? Wha…you accepted the 

                                        shipment?

                                        No, it-it’s okay. Just don’t open any of

                                        them. I’ll deal with it when I get back. 

                                        Thank you.

                                        In-laws are single-handedly cutting my life  

                                        expectancy in half.

Otis Zvonecek: What is going on with you?

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs] Just hanging on for dear life.

Otis Zvonecek: Spill it.

Christopher Herrmann: I have cases of this damned energy water  

                                         sitting in my in-laws’ garage, and I’m 

                                         never gonna be able to off-load. I’m in for 

                                         a grand already, and they just keep 

                                         coming. They call it multi-level marketing, 

                                         but it’s a pyramid scheme. 

                                         And I don’t know what I’m gonna tell 

                                        Cindy.

Otis Zvonecek: So return it.

Christopher Herrmann: It’s non-refundable.

Otis Zvonecek: Non-refundable is a word made up by lawyers.

Christopher Herrmann: I signed a contract.

Otis Zvonecek: Give me the number.

                                               cutscene

Gabby Dawson: That is absurd!

                            Well, then, fine. I guess you’ll know where to find 

                            me.

                            On the job!

Leslie Shay: What was all that about?

Gabby Dawson: That frat kid, he filed a complaint with the city.

Leslie Shay: Oh, the kid’s just embarrassed. No way he’ll ever  

                     follow through on that.

Gabby Dawson: Well, he just did, Shay.

Leslie Shay: Well, that’s ridiculous, and screw them.

                      You know I would have done the same thing.

Gabby Dawson: Well, you didn’t. I did.

                            And…that makes two, for everyone keeping score.

                            County said that they could suspend me this time.

                                [alarm sounds, PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61, Altered mental status. West Madison 

                 Street.

Chief Boden: Dawson, I rerouted that call to 34. 

                       Dawson, I need to see you.

                       Come on.

Gabby Dawson: Reckless infliction of emotional distress? Are you 

                            kidding me?

Chief Hatcher: You have a bit of a track record lately, wouldn’t you 

                          say?

Mouch: Apples and oranges. 

Gabby Dawson: Except both involve me saving a life; which I did.

Chief Hatcher: Both involve violations in a very short time span. 

Mouch: But…

Gabby Dawson: That…

Mouch: This isn’t enough to warrant suspension, Chief. No way.

Chief Hatcher: Well, be ready for the possibility. And be absolutely  

                          certain that your memory of the event is accurate to 

                          the best of your knowledge. 

Gabby Dawson: Like what? That I kicked the belligerent jackass  

                            with one foot or two?

Chief Boden: Is there a date set for this hearing?

Chief Hatcher: Not at the moment.

Mouch: There won’t be one, Chief. This will be a written warning  

               just like the other. One call.

                                               [phone rings]

Chief Boden: Well, whatever you need to do. You take care of this.

Gabby Dawson: [sighs]

Mouch: [whispers] It’s fine.

Chief Boden: I have someone. 

                       I know a guy who lives in Voight’s neighbourhood   

                       who knows a kid who’s willing to wear a wire.   

                       We’re gonna meet him at the end of the shift.

                                                  cutscene

                                               [siren wails]

                                     [indistinct radio chatter]

                                           [car door shuts]

Hank Voight: Evening, ma’am. Got you rolling through a stop back 

                       there.

Hallie Thomas: What stop?

Hank Voight: I can let it go with a warning this time. 

                      Just do me a favour. Talk some sense into your man. 

Hallie Thomas: Excuse me?

Hank Voight: I’d really hate to see things get uglier than they 

                      already are.

                      Thank you, Hallie. Have a good night.

                                                   cutscene

Chief Boden: So what’s the process here? 

Antonio Dawson: If the kid’s willing to go on tape, we’ll set up a 

                              sting. 

                                              [phone rings]

Matt Casey: Hey baby. 

                     What’s wrong? Everything all right?

                     I get it. Just why didn’t you call me last night when it 

                     happened?

                                            [car door shuts]

                                                cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Manager.

                          Man-a-ger.

                          Speak…to…manager.

                          Yes.

                                                 cutscene

Leslie Shay: Come on, let’s get out of here.

                      Where do you…where do you wanna go? Someplace  

                       loud? We can go to Jenson’s? They have good 

                       music. Wanna go someplace quiet, get coffee?   

                       Library maybe? Want to peruse a novel or flip  

                       through some microfilm? [chuckles] Do they 

                       even make microfilm anymore?

Gabby Dawson: I think I already have a plan.

Leslie Shay: Yeah? What?

Gabby Dawson: I’m gonna cook.

                                                 cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: (sighs) Well, the terms of the note are 

                           misrepresented.

                           Why, yes, I am an attorney. Are you?

Christopher Herrmann: [whispers] No…[continues indistinctly]

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, you’re in marketing. Perfect. So you should  

                           know that the basic premise of a pyramid 

                           scheme was found to be illegal in accordance 

                           with the case of Landers versus Holcroft 1985. 

Christopher Herrmann: [mouthing] Stop it…

Otis Zvonecek: And so, if you are illegally refusing my client’s rights 

                          on page one, trust me, [chuckles] it’s not getting  

                          any better on pages 10, 11, or 12, guaranteed.

                          I-I-I do this for a living, sir. All it’s gonna cost me   

                          are the filing fees.

                          That’s right. Small claims, better business bureau.  

                          I can turn this into a real, three-ring circus and not 

                          lose a minute of sleep. 

Christopher Herrmann: [mouthing] Don’t. Stop it.

Otis Zvonecek: I am gonna drain your pockets of 10 grand so fast,  

                          all the fake energy water in the world won’t 

                         rehydrate them.

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs]

Otis Zvonecek: Uh, huh. Yes. 

                           Overnight it, please. 

                           They wanna know where to send the refund.

                            Non-refundable [chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: Hello? Yeah.

                                                cutscene

Kelly Severide: You seen Vargas?

Hadley: Yeah, he’s heading in. Oh hey, you got a phone call a few  

              minutes ago, by the way. Some woman, name was Anna?

Kelly Severide: Oh, okay, thanks.

                          Hey Vargas, grab your rappelling gear.

Jose Vargas: What? Shift’s ending.

Kelly Severide: You heard me.

                                             cutscene

                                         [train passing]

Terrance: This is Darell. 

Chief Boden: This is Detective Dawson.

Antonio Dawson: What have you got for us, kid? 

Darell: Voight bad, man. Whole West Side up and down know to 

            step back.

Antonio Dawson: You done favours for him?

Darell: Yeah. Hell, enough to get tight.

Antonio Dawson: Yeah? What’s he told you?

Darell: Mess with the lady, expect a payday. But go after you? 

            He said he’s take care of all of us. “Anything you need,”  

            he said. ‘Get out of jail free’ passes for me and some 

            others.

Matt Casey: So you’ll wear a wire? 

Darell: Hell, yeah.

Antonio Dawson: When did Voight reach out last?

Darell: Two weeks ago.

Matt Casey: Two weeks?

Darell: Maybe a week.

Matt Casey: Which is it?

Darell: A week then. 

Antonio Dawson: Ay-yi-yi.

Darell: Whatever you want it to be, you tell me.

Matt Casey: This guy’s full of it. 

Darell: Look, I get paid, I get you what you want. Everybody makes 

            out. Problems go away. It’s capitalism man.

Chief Boden: Get the hell out of here.

Darell: It ain’t gotta be like that.

Chief Boden: I said get the hell out.

Darell: Right.

Terrance: I thought he was legit.

Chief Boden: Casey!

                                                cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Sorry for the wait, Peter Mills.

                            Bon appetit.

Peter Mills: Thank you.

                    [sniffs] So good.

Gabby Dawson: Good luck.

Peter Mills: Yeah?

                     Mmm. Chicken…rotisserie?

Gabby Dawson: Mmhmm.

Peter Mills: Bacon, red peppers, sweet onions, a tablespoon of 

                    butter?

Gabby Dawson: Mmhmm.

Peter Mills: Uh huh. Uh, oil…olive oil.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Peter Mills: Uh…[sniffs]

                    Gruyere cheese?

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Peter Mills: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: And parmesan…

Peter Mills: No, please don’t spot me. I can get it.

Gabby Dawson: I gotta spot you ‘cause you’re not gonna get it.

Peter Mills: What won’t I get? What am I missing?

Gabby Dawson: The thing that makes it a family secret.

Peter Mills: Ah.

Gabby Dawson: Ah. 

Peter Mills: Tell me what it is.

Gabby Dawson: No [chuckles]

Peter Mills: Look, I will tell my mom to put it on the menu 

                    tomorrow. 

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

Peter Mills: We can call it “Grandma Dawson’s mac and cheese.”

                    Come on.

Gabby Dawson: Another one bites the dust.

Peter Mills: Ah.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. Bam.

Peter Mills: [chuckles]

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

Peter Mills: All right. 

                    [sniffs]

                    Nutmeg.

Gabby Dawson: Nobody ever gets that. Ever.

Peter Mills: Ooh!

                    Yes, yes! 

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] How did you do that?

                            You are lucky.

Peter Mills: Nobody but me, baby.

Gabby Dawson: Oh my God [laughs]

                                            [phone rings]

Gabby Dawson: That’s just…that’s friggin’ luck.

Peter Mills: That is talent. That is all that is.

Gabby Dawson: One sec.

                            Mouch, what do you know?

Mouch: Yeah I’ve got bad news. They’ve scheduled a hearing.

               I tried like hell to fight it off, but that’s the way it stands.  

               I’ll call you later with more.

Gabby Dawson: Mills, where do you keep the liquor?

                                                 cutscene

Capp: There he is.

Kelly Severide: And time!

                          6:42, ladies. He obliterated your old time.

Hadley: [laughs]

Kelly Severide: Get up here.

Capp: I’m not helping his ass up here.

Jose Vargas: [exhales]

Kelly Severide: Now sit your ass down, Vargas. You earned it.

Jose Vargas: [panting]

Kelly Severide: Welcome to the squad.

Jose Vargas: [sighs] Before breakfast?

Kelly Severide: After shift.

                                              [cans clinking]

Kelly Severide: Have a seat.

Jose Vargas: [groans & panting]

Hadley: Did you ever call Anna back?

Kelly Severide: Nah.

Hadley: Oh, now I remember.

              Anna. Yeah, she was a pharmaceutical rep or something 

              like that. 

Kelly Severide: Was she? I don’t…We never talked.

                                               cutscene

                                          [train passing]

Anna: I know I shouldn’t have called the firehouse.

           Here.

Kelly Severide: Thank you.

Anna: Be careful with these. Take them only when necessary.

Kelly Severide: I will.

Anna: I’m in town two more days.

Kelly Severide: Cool. I’ll let you know.

                                          [train passing]

                                         [car door shut] 

                                          [engine roars]

                                             cutscene

                                    [cell phone vibrating]

                                        [car door shuts]

Chief Boden: What?

                       Give it to me.

                       I’m only gonna tell you one more time, Casey. 

                       Give it to me.

                       Go on and get out of here.

                       Go home.

                                            [engine starts]

                                                 - end -

Definitions:

¼ inch hex = Also known as an Allen key, is a small handheld tool that’s used for driving bolts and screws with a hexagonal socket.

4x4s = Emergency first aid 4x4 gauze pads

BP by palp = This means that the systolic (maximum pressure your heart exerts while beating) blood pressure was measured by palpitation rather than auscultation (listening to sounds typically with a stethoscope). You find the radial pulse, inflate the cuff well past the point where the pulse disappears and let air out until the pulse returns.

Type and cross = Blood typing is the process of determining the blood type and rH factor (Rhesus factor is a type of protein found on the outside of red blood cells. This protein is genetically inherited. If you have the protein, you are Rh-positive; if not, you are Rh-negative) of a sample of blood. Cross-matching involves finding the best donor for a patient prior to blood transfusion.

Toradol = Is a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug. It works by reducing hormones that cause inflammation and pain in the body. Toradol is used short-term (5 days or less) to treat moderate to severe pain.

A.S.A.’s office = Assistant State Attorney

Metal lathe = Originally designed to machine metals; however with the advent of plastics and other materials, and with their inherent versatility, they are used in wide range of applications, and a broad range of materials. Lathes remove material from a rotating work piece via the movements of various cutting tools such as tool bits and drill bits.

Altered mental status = is a broad category that applies to geriatric (refers to medical care for older adults, usually > 65 although most people do not need geriatrics expertise in their case until age, 70, 75, 80) patients who have a change in cognitive level of consciousness (LOC is a measurement of a person’s arousability and responsiveness to stimuli from the environment)

[thewhumperinwhite]

Cafe: Clinic 4

Previous:  Teaser 1 / Teaser 2 / Hospital/Squad Car / No More Squad Car / Empty Bar / Used Car Lot 1 / Used Car Lot 2 / Gas Station / Roadside 1 / Roadside 2 / Forest / Treetops / Cottage (1) / Cottage (2) / Interlude: Police Station / Cottage (3) / Cottage/Car Ride / Clinic / Clinic 2 / Clinic 3

aka Dr. Russ O’Brien’s Awful No Good Very Bad Day.

TW for: implied/reference homophobia, referenced gun violence, referenced eye horror and gore, guilt, alcohol mention.

@whumpitywhumpwhump, @gottalovethemwriters @stephsspilledthoughts

----

Russ O’Brian has run this country clinic for fifteen years, since he left the hospital and his husband in the same year for about the same reason, and he’s seen some horrors—some reckless drivers and kids with unsecured guns in their homes who made it to his clinic but didn’t make it into the hospital airlift. It isn’t common—he spends a lot more time passing out safer sex pamphlets to kids who think he’s the only queer adult in town, and a lot of grueling but less firework-spectacular hours referring people to substance abuse programs in the next town over— but he’s seen some terrible things in that time.

He’s never had a day like today.

By rights the first bleeder—that’s what they’re calling them, apparently, in the city Greg ran off to when Russ made it clear he was no longer welcome in Russ’s home, “bleeders,” and Russ guesses that is the showiest thing they do, bleed—should have killed him. He was leaning right in the woman’s face to take her temperature when she suddenly coughed a mouthful of horrible bloody phlegm right down the front of his shirt and then stared at him with what he would discover was a characteristic look of blank confusion before Sara, the tech who’s worked for him part time for five years now made a loud sound with equipment in the corner of the room and the woman lunged for her instead of Russ. And then when Russ, having about a hundred pounds on her, hauled the woman off, she thrashed in his grip like a captured wildcat, kicked him in the crotch, and ran out of the exam room.

And the bite didn’t even look that bad.

Russ has worked on enough desperate people to know that human bites are among the most prone to infection of any, but thankfully he does have the equipment to thoroughly disinfect a bite like that, and when Sara—who was only twenty three, and lived on her own—asked if she could stay on for a while, loiter in the clinic kitchen and breakroom until she’d calmed down a little, Russ had seen no reason not to let her stay.

Sara’s a sweet kid, and a good assistant; the only time she’s missed a planned shift in all the five years she’s been working at the clinic is when she was in a real low place two years ago after the collapse of a long relationship that had been wearing her down for years after that time anyway— and she had come to Russ about that, because she didn’t have any more family in the area than he did.

All of which is to say, well. Russ doesn’t own a gun or anything anyway, but he is a hell of a lot bigger than Sara. Probably he could have stopped her, after she raised her face from her hands where the tears she’d been covering had suddenly started running red. He sure could have at least tried. But she bowled him over easy, launching herself at him and burying her pointed skinny-girl shoulder in his stomach, and he hit the floor of the clinic kitchen hard, and then she panted into his face like a mad dog, blood dribbling from her mouth, and then someone in the waiting room screamed and she went rocketing out there to make whatever chaos had already erupted worse.

Which is—all of that should have been enough, was enough to cement this as the worst day in a career and life full of terrible days, but it isn’t the worst part.

The worst part is that Russ is a goddamn doctor, whether he works at a fancy hospital or not, and he knows he’s supposed to run out there, keep Sara and whoever else is falling apart in his waiting room from tearing each other up, he can picture himself doing it, picture them turning on him instead, and that should be fine, he’s a fucking sad old man, he should be happy to give up a life he doesn’t even like that much in the service of doing the right thing, of keeping the oath he made a thousand years ago when he had a family and a home and a job he loved, and.

And what he does instead is run to the shitty little backroom office he’s always hated and slam the door shut and lean against it. What he does is sit on the floor with his back to the door and put his hands over his eyes. The office is in the back, with the kitchen and the exam room between it and the waiting room, and with the door closed, he can’t even really hear his patients ripping each other to shreds.

That all happens at 3 PM. It’s almost 3 AM, now, the clinic quiet while three strangers and the daughter of a high school bully sleep off a days worth of trauma presumably miles worse than his.

If only they’d had an office to cower in and a dozen people to sacrifice.

Russ sweated the last whiskey out of his system fairly early on in the process of keeping a stranger from bleeding to death on his table, and now that he’s finished that particular piece of penance, he figures he’s earned a little more. 

He stops in the kitchen doorway. Dan Rochester’s daughter is in the middle of rifling through the staff-kitchen fridge, inspecting and rejecting lots of food that isn’t hers. He watches her grab a two-litre bottle of coke and close the fridge, and then she turns back to the table, sees him in the doorway, and goes fully deer-in-headlights still, visibly picking between fight and flight.

They stare at each other for a second. Then Russ sighs and crosses to the cabinet above the microwave; the girl’s shoulders relax as soon as he stops blocking her exit.

“Here,” he says, grabbing an old tupperware cup and tossing it underhand to the Rochester girl, who catches it easily, looking startled. He plops down in one of the mismatched chairs around the rickety kitchen tables, sets down his own cup, and holds out a hand for the coke bottle, raising his eyebrows.

The Rochester girl flushes and hands over the bottle. After a minute she slowly sits down at the table, too, eyes darting at Russ and then away.

Russ fills his own glass, and then he fills her glass too, setting the mostly-empty, mostly-flat bottle aside. “Not planning anymore sleep tonight, huh?”

She frowns down at her glass and then knocks back a big swig, half the cup in one go. As she sets it back down she shakes her head, not looking at Russ.

“Had bad dreams,” she admits after a second, in a quiet scratchy voice.

Russ doesn’t ask what about. It’s hard to tell cause it’s so dark, but he thinks some of the tacky filth in her hair is probably blood.

“You’re Dan’s oldest, huh?” he asks instead, and her face creases immediately and she takes another too-big glug of coke.

“Uh-huh,” she says after she’s choked it down. Russ looks at her. She’s probably— what, twelve? Dan was an asshole; he’s not sure he’s actually spoken to any of his kids before.

“I’ll be honest,” he says, “I got no fuckin’ clue what your name is, kid.”

She blinks at him with wide eyes, maybe startled by the swear. “It’s, uh.” She clears her throat, and then she sticks her hand out stiffly across the corner of the table at him. “I’m Sam.”

Russ looks down at her hand, which is dirt-caked and small, and feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. “Russ,” he says, engulfing her tiny hand in his grown one and giving it a very professional shake. Then he hooks his thumb over his shoulder in the vague direction of the exam room. “You wanna tell me what you’re doin’ with these...” He’s not sure how to ask “how did the daughter of Dan Rochester end up bringing me the three most visibly queer kids I’ve ever seen in this godforsaken town,” so he finishes with a half-hearted “...people?” instead.

Sam flushes again. “Oh, I, uh. Well. I shot the, um, the red-haired one.” Russ— knew that, at least vaguely, but still feels his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Only it was a, an accident, so I felt... bad.”

Russ blinks at her, and then finds himself laughing; it’s just a short little huff but it does feel good, eases a little of the tension in his jaw and back. “You even know their names, Sam Rochester?”

Sam turns very red at that, and Russ is laughing for real, now, leaning back in his chair with the strength of it, and when he turns his head he sees the short guy, the one who pointed a shotgun at him, hovering awkwardly in the doorway, clearly debating whether to interrupt or slink away.

Russ is feeling generous, at the moment, a mix of spite and warmth at the idea of Dan Rochester’s daughter having such an uncomplicated, dumbass desire to do right by people; and the kid with the shotgun is currently included in that warmth by virtue of being in sight at the right time. Russ waves him over, gesturing broadly with his half-empty cup.

“Come join us, eh?” he says, grinning. “Cups above the micro. We’re committin’ to eight more hours without sleep.”

The kid blinks his big dark eyes, clearly startled. “Uh,” he says, and moves mechanically to the cabinet and sits down with his own cup, looking dazed.

“You got a name, by the way?” Russ says while he fills the kid’s cup.

“Oh, it’s, uh— Solemn, I’m Solemn, it’s—” He clears his throat, hiding behind his cup a little. “Sol’s my name.”

Russ laughs again, and raises his plastic cup toward the kid, who mirrors him automatically; Russ taps their cups together with a dull click.

“Russ O’Brien. Cheers.”

Solemn—Sol—takes a big swig, not like he’s decided to do it but like it’s a reflex, and then makes a face, looking down at his half-empty cup.

“Jesus, this is flat as fuck,” he says, and Sam audibly gasps; Sol blinks up at her and then clears his throat again, even more awkwardly. “Sorry, kid.”

Russ leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, grinning. “Rochester here was just telling me how she has no idea who you people are. You wanna share what brings y’all to our,” and he gestures vaguely around, indicating the clinic and the trees and farms and confederate flags outside of it, “thrivin’ metropolis?”

“We’re just passing through,” Sol says, a little defensive. “We’re on our way upstate.”

“Upstate where?”

Sol stares at Russ for a second, and then he looks down at the table, fiddling with his mostly-empty cup, and says, “I actually don’t... a hundred percent... know.”

Russ listens to the boy explain with— well, he oscillates between thinking the story is funny and thinking its horrible. When Sol is no longer talking, Russ massages his temples, feeling the headache he’s had all day creep back up on him.

“Now, all right,” he says finally. “You’ve known this kid for a total of— what, three days?”

Sol blinks, and then looks down at his hands like maybe he’s counting hours on his fingers. “I guess so?” the boy hazards.

“And now you’re just dyin’ to wander off to an undisclosed location with him through who-knows-what, huh?”

Sol flushes deeply, sneaking a look up at Russ and then back down at the table.

“Well,” he says softly, wrapping his hand around his cup like it’s a security blanket. “I just, uh. I just didn’t wanna leave him on his own, is all. And it wasn’t like I had a lot of other plans, either.”

Russ looks at the kid, who’s now playing with his cup, like it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

“Sure, kid,” Russ says, and pours him another glass.

[stealinghero]

Okay so imagine this! The Lupin crew are relaxing at a cafe after a successful heist. The s/o says they have to use the bathroom and they leave. But after about five minutes, the s/o comes running out of the back door with a dehydrated body in their arms yelling that they need to go, there’s no time to explain and it’s not their fault, all while some shady looking people chase after them.

Finally.... after losing my first draft (about 4 pages) because of my stupid self overwriting it, it’s finally done!!

I did it a bit different than before to get the vibe of an episode, showing a few more aspects than just the view of the reader.

I hope you all enjoy it!!  It’s under the cut for length.

It had been a busy week. But now it was time to finally relax and come down. You were sitting in your favourite café, surrounded by your friends.

“I dare you to eat a whole Sundae in under 5 minutes.”

“Do you think I can’t do this?!”

“Hundred bucks against it.”

You snorted and had to laugh out loud when Jigen showed you the Sundae in question on the menu. It was huge!!

“Excuse me for a second. Don’t start without me!” You had to see Lupin try this dare, but nature called you with an urgency you seldom had.

“If I win, I’ll get a kiss!”

You turned around to your boyfriend and grinned.

“And if you lose, I get a kiss from Jigen!”

The gunman snickered and nodded. “Deal.”

“No deal! Don’t touch my precious love!”

You let the guys bicker while you made your way to the restrooms.

 A moaning was heard as soon as you entered. Some people had no shame! But something was off with it. Didn’t it sound painful? All stalls were open but the last one. Another moan, this time a man, more breathless but also kind of… breathless?

Curious about those sounds you got into the stall next to it and thought about taking a peek over the wall into the next cabin.

“That’s a good girl. Die for me.”

With a jump you pulled yourself up the wall of the stall and looked into the next cabin, only to see a black dressed guy with a syringe on the neck of a young girl.

“Unhand her, you freak!” you demanded.

He was quicker than you, already running out of the restrooms when you got down and hurried into the stall with the girl.

“Are you okay?!”

She was unconscious and very pale. The small holes at her neck almost looked like a vampire bite. Who was that freak?!

An uproar let you just get the girl out of the stall and run. Not a second too late as you could see the black dressed guy and a couple of his friends drawing their weapons, aiming for you.

 “Get up! We need to run!!” you shouted at your friends as you hurried past them with the still unconscious girl in your arms.

“What did you do?!” Lupin asked, already on his feet and fumbling for the car keys.

“No time to explain!!”

You heard a shot and felt the pain when the bullet hit you in the calf. Those guys were serious! Limping, you made your way to the car, followed by your friends, Jigen already shooting back and Goemon protecting you from a hail of bullets.

 Breathlessly you had told them everything on the way to the hospital where you had laid the girl in front of the emergency room. Just like the rest of the gang you were wanted so you couldn’t exactly just walk into any building without the fear of being arrested.

During the dressing of your wound, Jigen questioned you about the scene.

“This is crazy. Tell me again, did you recognize anything?”

With a huff you told him the story once more. You knew it was crazy! A side-glance towards your lover made you aware of the mess you had brought yourself into. He had decided to call Inspector Zenigata to get some information. It seemed quicker than to get into a disguise and just get to the nearest police station.

“A vampire? In broad daylight?” Goemon seemed incredulous.

“It wasn’t a vampire, Goemon! It was a man with a syringe. I saw it,” you replied.

“But where was all the blood? Even a kid her age should have at least 4 litres of blood. And she lost at least 2 of it.” Sometimes Jigen scared you with his medical knowledge.

With a grim face Lupin joined your round.

“You disturbed a serial killer. Pops says there were at least 5 different cases of this vampire. It’s always the same. A kid is lured away from its parents and sucked dry.”

You suddenly felt uneasy but you had to know.

“They survived, right?” you asked.

He shook his head.

“The girl is the first to survive. All of them had marks like a vampire bite. All of them sucked dry.”

Jigen spat and lighted a cigarette. A sure sign he was getting irritated.

“This is a disgusting thing to do to someone,” Goemon decided and grabbed his Zantetsuken. His own form of irritation.

“Pops is thankful for your information, but he also says there aren’t enough facts to get to a clear culprit. To think there were 4 of them...,” he left it unsaid, but you felt his uneasiness as he watched you.

“I will be okay. It’s not like they followed us.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Jigen slowly raised his hands, followed by Lupin. Both of them stared at a point behind you.

“I hate this,” you mumbled and turned around to find yourself surrounded by black dressed men, all of them aiming their guns at you.

 “I still don’t get why you don’t simply kill them.”

“It’s an order from above.”

“Fuck this. I know a bit about them. They can be dangerous.”

“Do you doubt your superiors?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then shut the fuck up and do your work.”

“Yes, Sir!”

You looked around in the dark cell to find something to get a clue where you were. After getting threatened you had to follow their orders. A blindfold, different cars, you were separated from the others. Were they in the same building as you? Were they already dead?

You swallowed your tears. Lupin wasn’t that easy to be killed. He would come and rescue you, right? He would hug you and kiss all those fears away. He would… maybe… surely… no! You had to get out of here! Think! What information do you have?

A dark cell, 3 metres long, 2 metres wide. A bucket in the corner. The door was solid metal, a small flap in the middle. No lock to be found. It had to be outside on the door. Maybe something simple as you hadn’t heard a key turn when you were thrown into this cell. You didn’t have a window. No blanket to cover yourself with. And it had to be soundproof, because the only things you could hear were the guards directly in front of the door even if you pressed your ear to the other walls.

 ~~~~

He gasped for air and coughed when he chocked on his own breath. Water ran down his face, soaking the bag over his head, making it harder to breathe.

“You will do as we say.”

He shook his head and tried to fight the strong grip on his neck as it pushed him down, into the water, once more. He was a good diver and counted the seconds with a clear head. But it was longer and longer, his lungs started screaming for air and he was still under the water. Two minutes had passed when he was pulled up again, again gasping for air in a desperate fashion.

“You will kill Lupin the Third.”

Again he shook his head. He was a stubborn idiot, getting drowned for his convictions.

 ~~~~

A sharp pain rushed through his whole facial nerve system as the wound opened and the nerves were exposed to the fresh air. Still, he wouldn’t admit it with a sound. It had be a short hit but still hard enough to rip open a huge gash on his cheek.

“It is easy, Lupin. You will steal the disc and we won’t hurt your little lover.”

He watched his partner through a monitor. They were collecting information on their cell, listening to sounds, checking the stability of the door.

“No.”

He had known it from the start. The whole day had been spent with an uneasy feeling. Why had he proposed a visit to the café?! By now he should know to trust his gut. But the face of his partner had been so gloomy and he had wanted to cheer them up… and he had endangered them with his recklessness.

“I will kill them,” the shadow promised.

Lupin shook his head. He had to trust them now. And he had seen a familiar face around those guys. What was more important to this person? Friends or the job?

“You’re right! I won’t kill them. He will,” the shadow laughed a bit while saying this, showing Lupin the familiar face getting tortured.

“Let them go!”

“Get me this disc and I will let your friends leave.”

The disc in question was unknown to him. Surely it was dangerous enough to destroy the world if people like the shadow wanted it. He had calculated the outcome and still hadn’t found a way out of it. Normally he would swap the disc with another, fooling those idiots. But with his friends in their hands? He would risk the death of his beloved ones. Manipulating the data on it was also out of the question, he had seen their work before. One or two skilled hackers were in this team, he knew. They would know any tampering before he could get away.

He had to trust his friends to save themselves. How could he gain time for them?

“Still no answer, hm? Fine. Then you’ll get to know the consequences,” the shadow threatened, pushing down a button.

Jigen appeared on the monitor. He was bound and gagged and seemed to be seriously hurt. Lupin snorted. It was likely the gunman had given his captors a rough time and got himself into trouble.

“Kill him.”

A gun was pressed to Jigen’s head. Lupin wanted to close his eyes but couldn’t.

The trigger was pulled and Jigen fell out of the reach of the camera.

 ~~~~

Was that a shot?! It had been too loud to be far away. Some clattering. You pressed your ear harder to the door but couldn’t hear anything. Silence fell. Maybe your friends came to your rescue??

After 5 minutes there was still silence and you fell down into sitting opposite of your prison door, staring at it, willing it to open with your thoughts alone.

 ~~~~

They had enough of drowning him. Wet and cold he was submitted into a cell, next to their other prisoners. He knew those cells. They were constructed specifically to be escape-proof. What a bullshit.

They had broken two of his fingers and this made it harder for him to work on the small gap between door and door frame. He was sure they watched him through the camera system. It was a game of time to get out of here.

A jolt of electricity rushed through his fingers and threw him on the floor, muscles cramping from the current. Damn, they had upgraded the security system.

 ~~~~

“One down, two to go. Get me the disc.”

He still couldn’t believe it.

“Your answer?”

They had shot him. Point blank, no room for tricks.

“Do you prefer to see the next death?”

“Don’t.”

“Get me the disc.”

He let his head hang and swallowed. They would kill the rest of his gang with him watching.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let me give you a gift before you go.”

Another button was pushed and he stared at the monitor. A hand, a leg…. A severed head staring back at him.

He threw up, emptying his stomach on the floor before him. He couldn’t stand the accusing stare of Goemon’s lifeless eyes.

“Please…,” he begged in a small voice.

The monitor went black.

“You have 24 hours.”

 ~~~~

You rubbed your temple as the flap in the door opened and a small tablet was shoved through, falling down, spilling all your food on the floor. A harsh laughter was heard and the flap closed. At least the water was bottled and didn’t spill.

You crawled towards the door, smelling iron. Blood on the other side of the door? You placed your face on the floor, trying to see through the small gap between the door and the floor. With a scream, you scrambled back to the opposing wall, shaking with fear. Did you… the… hi… you couldn’t understand what you just had seen. Lifeless brown eyes staring at you.

 ~~~~

It had been a matter of time until they had grew bored with him sitting in his cell, doing nothing. He was prepared when three of them came to get him. Two of them were entering his cell, getting him up on his feet, the third pointing a gun at him, ready to shoot without a warning. A really good work and he felt a small pride. He had been one of their instructors after all. And they were doing a good job, he had to admit.

“Are you ready to kill?”

He spat into the face of the man before him and earned a fist to the face for it. Blood dripped from his broken nose.

“Lupin is on the way already. There’s no need to be so hostile, old man.”

Damn. How had they made him go?!

The man before him laughed and hit him again, this time the fist hit his solar plexus, making him throw up in pain.

“You still have a chance to kill him if you’re fast enough.”

“I won’t.”

“I gave him 24 hours. And there is no rush.” A short gesture and the two men dragged him into another room, making him dread the things he and the other instructors had taught them, when he saw the instruments.

 ~~~~

Interpol headquarters. It would have been easier if they had allowed him to disguise himself as Zenigata!

Cursing he checked his uniform he had taken from a passed out officer. Well, passed out wasn’t that right, he admitted with a grin.

He would get the disc, bring it back and take his partner and get out of there. Far away from those maniacs.

“Officer, what are you doing there?”

He snapped back into reality, donning a smile and saluting in front of the captain.

“I was checking the premises as I was asked to do,” he answered.

A nod from the other man and he was free to go. He would need to be fast to get to the right floor. The shadow had told him the exact coordinates of the disc, making him suspicious. Why did the ICPO hide a disc with nuclear codes in their best guarded safe? Why did they have something like this in the first place? Something wasn’t right.

He thought about it the way through the building. Maybe the disc was something else? Briefly he remembered a different disc, containing the secret identities of all the MI6 agents. Maybe the ICPO had something similar?

No time to think. He had to get to the right floor and find a way to get into that safe, guarded by a difficult security system.

 ~~~~

You had enough! There had to be a way to get out of here?! Those bastards had killed Goemon! You threw yourself against the door for the fourth time when it swung open.

Shocked you couldn’t even react and fell to the floor, surprised by the sudden change.

“You wanted to get out?”

You blinked, silent – were you dreaming?

Zenigata grinned at you with a bruised face, missing two teeth.

“We need to get you out of here,” he told you, grabbing your arm.

You blinked again, and then the memories came back. Frantically you searched the floor for the head you had seen.

“It was a puppet. A scheme to break you. And Lupin.”

You shook your head. How!?

“Interpol’s special unit. They are specialized in anti-terror… well, I thought that.”

“Interpol?!” you had found your voice and were now eyeing the Inspector in front of you. He was a bloody mess, shirtless and bruised. Several deep cuts were on his body and you thought that a few fingers of his must be broken.

He growled before answering.

“I had a feeling about that case you were involved in. Seems I was right.”

“Inspector!”

You and him turned your heads towards the voice, seeing Yata dragging a half-conscious Jigen with the help of a hurt Goemon.

With a heavy weight falling from your shoulders, you rushed to your friends, hugging them and carefully looking over them for injuries.

“I found them where you told me. Inspector, what is going on?!” The young assistant seemed distressed.

“Doesn’t matter. Get Jigen and Goemon out of here and keep them safe,” Zenigata ordered, taking a short glance at you. “And you will need to help me here.”

You nodded. He had saved your friends and there was no sight of Lupin.

“They told me Lupin is on his way to steal something they want. We need to know where he is. And what they want.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Your brain was too slow to catch up.

“What bad feeling with the case I was involved in?!” you asked him.

He began to walk and you followed him, curious.

“After the second dead kid I had a hunch and followed a trace. A man of the Special Unit had been sighted near the crime scene.”

“They were 4 men,” you told him.

“Five. A sniper to keep trouble away.”

“But he didn’t shoot.”

“Then why are you limping?”

You stopped and stared at him. You were a sniper yourself and knew the priorities.

“Why didn’t he shoot me then?”

“He wanted to be found out.”

You shook your head in disbelief but Zenigata grabbed your hand and dragged you with him.

“His brother was the one to come to me after the fourth case. He was killed before he could confess his crimes. The sniper was the younger brother, I think he wanted to end the secrecy of this.”

“Why kids?! Why the blood?”

Zenigata dragged you into a room full of monitors and flicked through the different cameras, searching for something.

“To sell it to some rich guy. They all had the same blood type. Some special thing from India or something. I am not a scientist.”

“The Bombay Blood group.”

He turned around and looked at you surprised.

“Lupin is the same. He can give blood to anyone but he needs a donor from the same group to receive blood from.”

“And how do you know that?!”

You grinned a bit, remembering him telling you one evening and your search for a few pints of this blood group to have a stash safe if he would ever need it.

“He’s my love after all.”

Zenigata rolled his eyes and turned back to the monitors.

“Stupid love-bugs,” he grumbled.

 ~~~~

There hadn’t been a problem so far. The guards were wearing masks but he still had gotten around them and used the sleeping gas he preferred. Right now they were in the land of dreams, leaving him the peace to deal with the security system.

Modern electronics, an elaborate laser system and an old fashioned safe that was safe from the newer generation of thieves because it was too outdated to be used anymore. Luckily his grandfather had taught him his first steps in cracking a safe with a similar model. Even then this model had been old.

“Show me your secrets…,” he said to the computer as he was cracking the codes and disengaging one system after another. The instructions of the shadow had been precise and worked. He must be an insider. But still the main thought of the thief went to the disc. What was on it?!

 ~~~~

He had found a camera in front of a door that he wanted to investigate.

“If I’m right this is the main office. And we will find our…”

His voice was drowned in a siren.

“Don’t tell me we were discovered,” you said, growling. He said he knew the Unit! Then he should know their security, right?!

A gun was thrown into your hands.

“You have the permission to kill.” His voice was toneless and you knew how heavy this decision was on the Inspector.

“Because they won’t hesitate to o the same to you,” he explained and loaded another gun.

“Are you really okay?” you asked him, eyeing his still bleeding wounds.

“I won’t back down now.”

 ~~~~

“My, aren’t you a beauty…,” he purred and let his fingers caress the metal of the safe. A quick glance on his wristwatch told him he still had 12 hours. He would need 5 to get back to his captors. 2 hours were planned for escape and getting on a plane or hijack a helicopter. Something like this. This left him with a good few hours to crack this safe. And he would need them.

Kneeling in front of the safe, he got out his equipment. Those old models were often rusted but this was clean and cared for. The lock would be easy to pick, but any mistake would reset the code of the safe, making it harder to crack each time it was resetted. Those old safe makers sure were a crazy bunch.

A brief thought to his lover made him smile. He had to be extra gentle with this lock, just like with them.

 ~~~~

So far you had killed 3 men and still hadn’t left the floor. The office was still far away and those men pestered you with their skills.

“Trained by the best.”

“Didn’t you say you trained them?”

He had the nerve to grin at you.

“I taught them…” his grin vanished as he remembered who he was talking to.

“We should hurry.”

You nodded and took cover in another room, watching out for any guards. Gaining metre by metre you made your way to the stairs, followed by Zenigata.

 ~~~~

The door swung open without any sound. He whistled by this care. Whatever was in there must be really important if they took such good care about the safe and the security. Maybe his theory on the missile codes was right after all?

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the contents of the safe. There was nothing. Just the disc. No money, no important documents, not even a weapon. What the hell was on this disc?!

He took it and turned around.

“This is as far as you go, thief.”

He grinned at the guards in front of him.

“I am not a thief. I am THE thief,” he told them as he activated a button on his shirt, enveloping them with a smoke screen and slipping past them.

“The great Lupin!” he added as he activated the security system behind him and trapped the guards inside the safe room.

 ~~~~

Zenigata pointed to the door in front of you and you nodded. The plan was simple. Storm the room, get as many hostages as possible and try to find Lupin. Or at least a way to communicate with him.

After counting down, you two moved as one as Zenigata kicked in the door.

A single man lifted his gaze from the papers on his desk, watching you two.

“I underestimated you, Zenigata,” he simply said as a shot cracked through the room.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move much. He just broke down on his knees, falling forward, leaving you to catch him before he hit the floor.

“Zenigata!” His name escaped your lips as you held his heavy body. The blood flowed from the wound and in a few seconds there already was a pool of it under him.

“Do you care to follow him?” the man asked you. You stared at him. He hadn’t even flinched!!

“Who are you?! What do you want?!”

“Of you? Nothing. But I need your lover to get me something that is mine.”

The way he spoke the word ‘lover’ was disgusting. He seemed emotionless.

“My friends will come back and you will….”

He snapped his fingers and a huge curtain was lifted behind him, revealing a cage with Yata, Jigen and Goemon inside of it.

“Will do what exactly?” the man asked with a raised brow.

“Fuck you!” You raised your gun and shot at him without properly targeting. Even if the magazine was empty and the gun just clicked at your efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself to pull the trigger time after time at this unmoving man.

“I spared you from torture in order to get this stupid thief to move on my will. But now that he’s moving, I don’t need you anymore. Do you know what that means?”

You growled.

“Your men are dead!” you told him.

“Do you really think I need help to deal with you?!”

He got up and walked around his desk towards you, pointing the gun at you which he had use to shoot Zenigata with.

“You pissed me off. I won’t give you a quick death. And there won’t be tricks anymore.” He turned and shot in the direction of the cage, hitting Goemon in the shoulder.

“I will deal with you properly.”

You screamed your frustration out of your system and launched yourself against him.

 ~~~~

The whole building was in high alert and he had to change his disguise three times to leave it without raising any suspicions. What a work! He scratched the Interpol headquarters from his list of buildings for a planned heist. He would never get into there again if he could avoid it. Too much trouble.

By now there had to be a warrant for him to all the officers on patrol, right? He should avoid the crowded streets and stick to the alleys to get away unnoticed. This would cost him another hour at least! Slowly it was becoming a hassle to work in such a short time.

He cursed and quickened his pace. From a man he stole the hat, a woman lost her scarf while passing him. A new shirt was snagged from a clothes line and he changed while running though the streets. He would need to steal a car to get to the airport on time.

 ~~~~

Everything hurt. You had trained with the gang on most days and you weren’t weak either, but still you were struggling to keep up with a trained soldier. He was fast and stronger than you, but you used your quick reflexes to avoid the heavy punches. He had lost his gun during the fall and had resorted to a fist fight with you.

A punch hit you on the side on your head, making your ears ring and your head spin. This would leave a bruise… or worse. You felt the nausea and tried to ignore it.

A knee to his side had him grunting in pain and you threw your weight on your side to roll him over and get him under you.

His fist punched your side and left you breathless while you worked on his face, landing a few hits there.

Was he a monster?!  You were sure you had broken his nose and most of his ribs and he was still beating at you like a fresh man!

“Kill him.”

You heard the order from behind you and nodded. There was no other way anyway!

Slowly, with a bit hesitation, you placed your hands on the throat of your enemy and pressed them into the flesh.

 ~~~~~

He had seen the roadblock from far away and decided to test his luck. After all this would bee the fourth time he turned the stolen car around to find an unblocked road. He would never mess with Interpol again, Lupin swore. How could someone like Pops join such a stupid thing?! He would need to talk to him about that.

He accelerated and held the steering wheel in an iron grip with the eyes glued to the roadblock. Hopefully the officers there would get out of the way of his car… he closed his eyes in the last second and broke through the roadblock.

 ~~~~

He didn’t move anymore and still you pressed your hands on his throat until your knuckled turned white.

“He’s dead. Let him be.” A bloody hand reached for yours and when you looked up you could see Zenigata’s pale face mere centimetres away from yours. Slowly he eased every finger each away from your victim. You had shot people. You had seen them die at your hands. But you never had killed someone so closely. It changed you and you could suddenly understand why Jigen had sometimes scoffed at you for saying killing was quite easy. You would never say that again.

“The others. Help them.”

Blood ran over the Inspector’s chin and you wiped it away with your bare hands. He flinched a bit, leaving it to you to judge the reason.

The nausea had started to push into your consciousness and left you crawling towards the cage to free your friends. Where was the key…?

 ~~~~

From then on it was easy. Get to the airport, steal an unguarded helicopter, start it. He still had enough time to make it back to them, to give them the disc and just run. He felt like shit. What would happen if he came back? His partner would hate him for obeying those terrorists. For letting his friends die… Jigen’s execution and Goemon’s dismembered body came to his mind and made him sick to the bones. He was scum for letting this happen. The lowest point in his life had been reached today.

With numb fingers he tipped the coordinates of the hideout into the GPS and let out a sigh. He had seen Zenigata on the monitors. At least the Inspector was still alive to arrest him for his sins.

 ~~~~

You watched the sunset with a cigarette and the hip flask of Yata while the man himself cared for the injuries of the others. You had seen enough blood for today.

The alcohol burned its way from your mouth into your stomach, making you feel alive and to warm you from inside.

You got up when you heard the helicopter and strolled back to the makeshift sickbay.

Yata looked at you and you had to stifle a laugh. His hair was a mess and his clothes had stains of blood and grass.

“Seems like the missing thief is back,” he said, also hearing the helicopter.

You nodded and kneeled next to Goemon, placing a hand on the bandage around his shoulder. The Samurai huffed and said nothing. He was ashamed of being caught like that and had a puppet made of him to make Lupin believe he was dead.

“How’s Jigen and Zenigata?” you asked the officer opposite of you.

“Jigen’s stable and I stopped the bleeding of the shot wound of the Inspector… what about you?”

He had offered to take care of your wounds but you had dismissed him to care about the more severely injured.

An engine roared and several cars appeared on the horizon.

“And here’s the cavalry,” you said surprised at how slow Yata’s colleagues showed up after his cry for help before storming the secret base of his former associates.

“Better late than never,” he replied but you could see the disappointment clearly written on his face. He had to be saved by someone of Lupin’s gang instead of the police. That must have hurt.

 ~~~~

He was surprised to see the small group on the ground after landing. And two of them were supposed to be dead…

Not caring about the police cars coming at him, he went straight for his friends. He wanted nothing more than to hug his partner and never let them go. He would never let them go again. His walk broke into a run and he closed the distance to them.

 In the end the Police let them go. There would be no case regarding this slip-up. The disc was safe with them again and they had other problems than to deal with a third-class thief and his band of misfits.

All of you were checked into a hospital with completely false names and history, courtesy of Interpol. The cracked skull of yours would need some time to heal up, but when you saw Lupin standing in the doorframe to your room holding a huge get-well-basket, you had to smile. The time would fly faster than you would like.

[riding-alpacas]

The definition of wind

Let's see what Google says when you search for a definition of wind:

Wind is the perceptible natural movement of the air, especially in the form of a current of air blowing from a particular direction.

My definition so far has been something like this:

Wind is when your clothes are flapping in the air and it's generally harder to move forward.

Now, after hiking the O circuit, this is my new definition:

Wind is when rain covers detach from high-quality backpacks, rain jackets rip apart, people blow over like sandwich boards and experienced hikers crawl on all fours in a desperate effort to move a little forward.

And whilst I've literally been blown away in the last 8 days, figuratively I'm not.

Let's start with a look at a map. The O circuit and the W trek are multi-day hikes through the Torres del Paine National Park. Most people do the popular W trek which usually takes 3 to 4 days and can be walked in both directions. The W trek is also part of the bigger O circuit which can only be walked in anti-clockwise direction due to the windy John Gardner Pass. The O circuit usually takes between 7 and 10 days and is considered to be a bit less crowded due to a limited number of permitted hikers in the Northern section.

How the O and the W are connected

When researching the O circuit (or "the O") I found lots of different descriptions, but most of them included words like "challenging", "demanding", "rewarding", "remote" and "breathtaking". Obviously this caught my attention and soon I was in the complicated process of trying to book campsites along the trail. This turned out to be quite difficult and the fact that the camps are managed by three different organisations that don't talk to each other didn't make it any easier. Then I stumbled upon an alluring offer: Pay someone to book all campsites for you, have the tents already set up and be fed in the mountain huts (or refugios) along the way. Given that I wanted to enjoy Mother Nature as much as possible, I like minimalistic travelling and I had some cash at hand, I decided to take up that offer. The only downside was that the first part of the hike would be guided and I expected that this would cause some issues due to different walking paces. At the same time it's always nice to have someone that you can ask questions about flora, fauna and the history of the park.

Fast forward I found myself in a great hostel in Puerto Natales - the closest town to Torres del Paine - packing my 24 litre daypack for the big trip. Some people found it hard to believe that I'd do the O with this little backpack, even though I didn't have to carry a tent and food. And everybody else from our group had at least a 50 litre pack. But I can already spoil that it worked perfectly fine. Seriously, you simply don't need so much stuff, you just need the right stuff. This is all I took:

Sleeping bag (5° and I should have taken a warmer one)

2 breathable shirts as a base layer (wearing one)

Fleece jacket

Insulated jacket

One pair of convertible, water-resistant hiking pants (wearing)

2 pairs of Merino wool socks, one thick, one thin (wearing one)

2 pairs of Merino wool undies (wearing one)

Rain jacket

Windbreaker

Beanie

Bush hat

Buff (one of my most valuable pieces of gear, it's so ridiculously versatile)

Waterproof gloves

Camera

A big, big power bank

Kindle

Sunnies

Toothbrush

Toothpaste

Deodorant

Small soap bar

Small towel

Insulin pens

Glucometer

Glucose tablets

A few protein bars

Headlamp

Inflatable solar lantern

Flip flops

Water bottle

Steripen

The key is to have clothes that are quick-drying, breathable and have as much Merino in it as possible. People might be grossed out by the thought of wearing the same underwear for multiple days but it really isn't a problem. Merino wool is antibacterial and it takes ages for it to smell, it is perfectly fine.

Let's move on to the actual hike: Our group consisted of five people and our infectiously cheerful guide Debbie. The other four were Gail & Alisha from England and Julie-Dodd & Marie-Laurie from the States. Walking pace was definitely an issue from day one. Gail and I were the fastest walkers, Alisha a little in between, Julie-Dodd and Marie-Laurie were the slowest. We never really got into the same rhythm as a group which turned things into a bit of a stop-and-go activity for me. But as I said before: I expected this and could live with it.

The first three days were generally a bit unspectacular. The trail was fairly flat and we mostly walked along some beautiful coloured rivers & lakes through picturesque valleys. Things got a little more interesting on day three when we started to see a few glaciers in the distance which gave us a first taste of the famous Southern Patagonian Ice Field. Wheatherwise it was fairly sunny on day one but it became gradually more cloudy and windy. We also had a few periods of rain and the mornings were quite cold, so all layers of our clothing were used all the time.

Paine River

Paine River

Mountains that separate Chile and Argentina

Did I mention that I like a good waterfall?

Lago Dickson

The wind was particularly strong on the lookouts. To our amusement, one Canadian couple put it quite nicely when we got to a point where I didn't want to pull out my camera because I was concerned the wind would take it. The girl was yelling to the guy:

This is not a good place to make a sandwich.

This line became a running gag for the rest of the trip.

At the end of day three we got up close to a glacier for the first time and the wind picked up again noticeably. Debbie told us that the next day would be quite challenging: Fierce winds and lots of rain was forecasted and there was a high chance that the John Gardner Pass - which we were supposed to cross - could be closed. She suggested to start early. Not only did we have to hike 1,200 metres up, we also had to hike about 22 kilometres to our next camp.

Glacier Los Perros

The host of the refugio overslept, so after a very sparse breakfast we hit the trail at about 5am. It already started raining and we spent the first hour walking in the dark through a muddy forrest before getting to an exposed & rocky area above the tree line. The rain turned into a mix of hail and snow and the wind pushed us all to the limits. It was here that the first rain covers flew off and people started being blown over. Gail, Alisha and I had to take quite a few breaks to wait for the other two to catch up. As a result we became very cold very quickly and Debbie noticed that we simply can't continue as a group. Even though I had my full waterproof layer on, most of my clothes were soaked in water - the rain was simply too much. The only thing that was dry were my hands, so it looks like my gloves are my most reliable piece of gear (a rather unresearched purchase from Amazon about a year ago). My feet were soaking wet and due to the wind chill became so cold that I couldn't feel my toes anymore.

Debbie sent us three ahead and it definitely helped that we didn't have to stop anymore. I wouldn't go so far to say that we were warm, we were just less cold. When we reached the top plateau of the pass we battled a constant stream of 100 km/h wind. It. Was. Unreal. And surely not a good place to make a sandwich...

Every step became a hard push - this wasn't walking anymore, this was a full-on pulling rope exercise. Alisha fell on her knees, all of us were walking bending over trying to give the wind as less surface as possible. Reaching the main pillar I climbed it with a victorious feeling but this thing was far from over. Getting to the other side we had an astonishing view of the Southern Patagonian Ice Field but we had absolutely no time to enjoy it or even take a little photo. I didn't feel my feet anymore and had to start running downhill for about 10 to 15 minutes in an effort to get warm. I reached some shelter behind some bush, the bush turned back into forest, we were finally much more protected and it became a lot warmer now. My toes came back to life and for the first time we were able to properly speak to each other again. There was a sense of achievement in the air, we hugged each other, we felt like we went through something together. At this point Alisha noticed that my rain jacket wasn't in as good spirits as I was: The hood and parts of the upper back got totally ripped apart. The irony is that I thought about replacing it before the trip but I figured it would do it for one more year.

What's left of my rain jacket

For the remainder of the walk, the massive Glacier Grey stayed on our right and we finally had some time to stop and snap some pictures. We had a rest at a ranger station and waited for the others to catch up. When they arrived, they told us their story and apparently they had to tuck their arms into each other and crawl over the pass. Later we heard that the pass was indeed closed a few hours later and the wind gusts were around 120 km/h. Needless to say that this was the bloody highlight of the whole trip. Unfortunately we don't have any photos from this epic crossing, so I really hope these memories will stay in my head for quite some time and Alzheimer's won't get me too early.

Southern Patagonian Ice Field

Glacier Grey

To our luck the rain started easing up after the pass and the rest of the day was quite cruisy. We crossed a few nice suspension bridges before reaching our camp for the night. You could clearly feel that we now joined the W trek. It was quite busy and the refugio even had a little café with couches and stuff. I wanted to treat myself with a hot chocolate and realised that all my cash that I took with me was gone. I only used a little bit for a hot drink on day one, after that I didn't take my wallet out again. Which meant that someone must have gotten into my tent on one of the other campsites and stolen my cash. I have to say that it was also partly my own fault. Whenever I arrived at my tent, I completely unpacked my bag and spread everything out for easy access. If somebody opened the tent, it would have been a five second job to take out the money. It is a shame though - the back area of the park wasn't crazy busy and it felt a bit like we were all a big family moving from camp to camp. Debbie was also shocked and it turned out that some other people from other groups had some of their stuff stolen, too. I was way too trusting.

This crazy day was also our last day with a guide: The next morning Debbie would leave us and each of us would continue at our own pace.

Debbie drew a little comic for me as a farewell

For day 5 I didn't have any high expectations. On paper it did look like a rest day with only 11 kilometres to walk and not many highlights on the map. But it turned out to be quite interesting. Most of the trail led through exposed areas which I like a lot more than forest. There were wonderful views of Lake Grey and the surrounding mountains but it was still super windy and I couldn't stay long on any of the many many lookouts.

Glacier and Lago Grey

Bye bye Glacier Grey

Hello Lake Pehoe

Day 6 was another big day with more than 20 kilometres to hike. It was the middle part of the "W": French Valley. The first section was quite steep and rocky but the reward was worth it. Reaching the first lookout I had a wonderful view of the valley to the left and the French Glacier to the right. Moving on, the trail became less steep and I barely felt that I was still going up. The second lookout offered another stunning view of the mountains further back. What a lovely little side trip.

Beautiful mountains everywhere

Lake Pehoe

Los Cuernos

French Glacier

Close to Mirador Británico

French Valley

On my way back down I stumbled upon Alisha who started the day a bit earlier than I. The one word that comes to mind when having to describe her condition would be kaputt. She had very sore muscles (or a muscle hangover as Germans would say) and as it turned out later also had two gigantic blisters on her heels. I decided to walk with her until we would reach camp trying to support her mentally as much as possible. The five minutes strategy from Snatch didn't work very well by the way.

To our surprise the trail was leading down to one of these wonderful glacial lakes and we even walked along its pebbly beach for a few metres. We ended at my favourite campsite of the trek (Los Cuernos). It was very close to shore, the showers were fantastic and the buildings quite rustic with great food (the portions were way too small though). Ironically I did not sleep very well at all that night. The wind picked up again in the afternoon and strong gusts woke me up again and again. At times I thought the tent would take off and I'd fly to the Torres. When we walked past the lake earlier, the wind was actually whirling up water which almost looked like little tornadoes. Fascinating to see.

Nice pebbles

A bit of wind

I have to say a few more words about the water (again). I'm now at a point where I would say that the water here is the best water I ever drank in my entire life. Usually I like to add a little bit of flavour when I drink plain water but here I just couldn't get enough of it. If there is one thing that I will miss most about this place it is the ability to just go to one of these natural taps and drink this wonderful water. My Steripen was only used a couple of times when I knew that there were lots of horses in the area, other than that I never had to treat it at all.

One of the many natural taps

The seventh day was another rest day with only 11 kilometres to walk. Gail and I decided to walk it together and for the majority of the time the trail was just parallel to Lake Nordenskjöld. Towards the end we took a turn at another lake that was named after my second-last car (Inge) before getting back to where it all started about a week ago.

Lake Nordenskjöld

There were a few mountains around

More Lake Nordensköld

The last day was reserved for the hike up to the towers that the park is so famous for. I was hoping that we'd have a clear morning, in which case I would have started in the middle of the night to see the Torres at sunrise - unfortunately the forecast said it would be a cloudy morning, so I rejected that idea. It was supposed to clear up during the day though. A lot of people do this hike as a day hike due to its proximity to the main entrance of the park. I wanted to at least avoid these crowds, so I started two hours before they arrived, hoping for some solitude. It kind of worked. There were already quite a few people on the trail when I made my way up but it was a lot less compared to the masses of people I encountered on my way back. And the forecast was actually true: When I arrived at the base of the towers, it was still a bit cloudy but when I left, I managed to snap a photo of all three towers not being surrounded by clouds. The whole way down it was finally super sunny and I soaked up the much needed sunbeams like a sponge. The towers itself were absolutely breathtaking and I highly enjoyed just sitting there, starring at them for two hours. As you might sense there actually weren't that many jaw-dropping moments during the hike as I originally hoped for, but this was definitely one of them.

The famous towers

On the way back

I guess the first bus has arrived

Beautiful water

What a lovely last day it was

All in all I am a little torn about the O. My expectations were definitely a lot higher in terms of everything. I expected it to be a lot more challenging but most days were actually quite cruisy. I also expected it to be a lot more remote - in reality you would never have to wait longer than 5 to 10 minutes until you'd see another human being, even on the back side. Another expectation I had was more wow moments. Don't get me wrong, it is absolutely beautiful and this is complaining on a very high level but I was very rarely blown away by what I saw. Would I do it again? Probably not. Was it still worth it? I think so.

To wrap it up, I quickly wanted to list my top positive surprises and top disappointments.

Top 3 positive surprises:

I fell in love with glaciers

Walking along the beach of Lake Nordenskjöld on the way to Los Cuernos

The hot chocolate at Camp Serón was the bomb

Top 3 disappointments:

Apart from the John Gardner Pass it wasn't very challenging at all (and that part was only challenging due to the weather)

Overall there were too many people

My cash was stolen

Next I will go back to El Calafate in Argentina and hike on the Perito Moreno Glacier on my birthday. After that I will go up North and spend some time in San Carlos de Bariloche which apparently looks like Switzerland and also has amazing chocolate. I will surely put that statement to a test.

[petersshirts]

To New Beginnings | Part 3

MASTERLIST || PART 1 || PART 2 ||

summary: a mental breakdown and a confession

words: 2722

a/n: part 3 is here guys!! it’s pretty long, please let me know what you think! love you x by the way, my requests are always open and if you ever need someone to talk to, just send me a message, I love talking to you guys x

„Y/N? Are you still there??“

You stared at the white stick in front of you, wishing for it to completely do it itself. It had been three weeks since the fateful night you and Tom had shared. You thought that it would be awkward, but it was the complete opposite due to Toms absence. He had a film project in the US for nearly two months and left two weeks ago. Since then, he had been calling you every night, asking how you were feeling. You always rolled your eyes at his constant questions because you knew that there was nothing happening in the first month.

But now your period was late for two weeks so you decided to buy a pregnancy test to confirm your hopes. And now you sat in your bathroom, too afraid to pee on the pregnancy test. You knew that Tom was getting annoyed on the phone, he had another scene to film.

„Yes, I’m here.“ You mumbled, still not able to get up. You drank four litres today and you really needed to pee, but your heart was not ready to face your fate.

„Did you do it?“ You shook your head but realised that he couldn’t even see it. „No, I feel so weird.“ Tom sighed. „Come on, Y/N, they are all waiting on me. I didn’t even say it was an emergency, I just ran offset! Don’t be such a baby.“ Now you were the one to sigh.

„I know, you’re right. Hold on.“ You put your phone on speaker and laid it somewhere safe to move to the toilet. You grabbed the little plastic cup you had specially bought for this occasion. After only a few seconds, you had enough pee and rushed to put the pregnancy test in there for a few seconds. The packaging said that you now had to wait for 5 minutes, so you grabbed your phone and the little white stick to go back to your living room.

„Okay, I did it. We have to wait now for five minutes.“ Anxiety was raising inside of you and you wished that Tom would be here beside you, experiencing this with you together. „I’m so excited, you have no idea!“ Tom literally yelled and you could only smile, still not believing that you were really doing it.

Sometimes you were still thinking about your night together. You still remembered his lips on yours and the soft touches between you two. He had been so gentle with you and you were sometimes even dreaming about it. Something was going wrong with your mind because you had always been best friends. Best friends that could possibly have a child together.

You were ripped out of your daydreams by Toms loud voice. „Is it showing something??“ You hadn’t even paid attention to the pregnancy test in your hand and when you looked up, there was a big fat plus.

Your eyes widened and there was a feeling in your stomach you could not describe. „O - oh my god.“ „WHAT? WHAT IS IT?“ Tom screamed at you like a maniac, but you couldn’t answer him, you were too shocked. There was a miracle growing in your stomach.

You finally found your voice back. „I’m - I’m pregnant, Tom. I mean, we’re pregnant.“ You breathed, not believing your own words. Tom yelled on the other side, making you grin.

„IM GONNA BE A FATHER!!“ You just listened to his shouts, completely overwhelmed by the situation. You wished you were with him, hugging him close and celebrating this together. Two friends, one baby.

This could go down a few different roads.

___________________________________________

It took a few minutes for Tom to calm down, but you could completely understand him. If he had been with you, you would have jumped around too, but since you were alone, there was no one to celebrate with. Sadly, Tom had to hang up only after a few minutes but he promised to call you right after he was finished with work. Not a lot of words came out of your mouth when he said bye, but you were still not comprehending what was going on. You were pregnant.

You would be a mum and have a little family together with your best friend who meant everything to you. When you sat there all on your own, you were not sure if you should call your sister and tell her about the good news, even if you wanted to desperately.

But you had read that the chances of a miscarriage were still very high at this point of your pregnancy and with Tom being famous, how could you tell everyone that you were finally getting a child? So you just sat there, with a stupid grin on your face, stroking your stomach softly. There was a living being inside of you and you would take care of it with everything you could do.

The rest of the day, you drank a lot of tea and read a lot about pregnancies online and looked up some useful tips for being a mother. You just could not wrap your head around it - after such a long time of always wanting to be a mother, you were finally going on this journey with a loved one.

Tom called you around three hours later. It was already getting dark outside but the two of you talked for a long time about what would happen next - first thing was an appointment at your gynaecologist Ms Roseville for the first screening. But Tom also went a lot further -

„Should we get a house or an apartment?“ You spit the tea out you had just drunk.

„A house?? We’ve agreed on living together but I can’t afford a house, Tom! That’s way too expensive!“ Tom sighed, knowing that you never wanted to spend so much money so there was nothing left anymore. On his side, he never had that problem before.

„Don’t you want the best for our child, love?“ Your heart fluttered when he called you by that nickname. Why did you get so emotional with so small things? Maybe it was just the hormones.

Now it was your turn to sigh. „Yes, of course, T, but a house is a really big investment. What if there’s a really huge fight and one of us leaves? I would like an apartment much better.“

„Why is my best friend such a pussy?“ You laughed out loud, hating his teasing. „Hey, take that back! I’m the one that’s carrying your child around!“

„Fine, fine. I will look around for any apartments around London. But we will talk about a house later.“

You just rolled your eyes, hating the stubbornness Tom always had.

„We will see.“

_______________________________________

Nausea and emotional breakdowns started to kick in in the tenth week. You had been to the doctor twice and everything looked very good; Ms Roseville told you that for the next checkup you would be able to see the real baby.

It still felt all too surreal to you-you were feeling completely fine and Tom was still away - he would be coming home in two weeks for a month until he had to leave again.

One morning, while you walked to the kitchen to grab a tea, your stomach suddenly did a somersault and you rushed to the bath to throw up. You hated throwing up and there was not even your mum, stroking your back and telling you that everything would just be fine. She was still unaware of your situation, living her peaceful life in Brighton, your hometown.

You threw up all morning, but you were too embarrassed to tell Tom how you were feeling - it was normal for a pregnancy and he shouldn’t worry about you while he was working.

But then it got even worse - you got horribly emotional. Nausea stopped at midday but when you sat down on the couch and started to watch a rom-com, you started to cry really, really badly.

You were a sucker for good romantic movies but the one you watched wasn’t even that sad, so that was - weird. You had to stop because your view was blocked from the tears. You started to walk around the house but because all you could think about was that you would get bigger and bigger with a baby growing inside you, you called Tom. You had been calling him a lot in the past few days but you needed his support. Even if you wished he was right here beside you, but that was just a wish.

„Hey Y/N, you alright?“ That’s how all your calls started - he was always worrying about you and you felt so special, happy that someone was constantly thinking about you.

You sniffed. „I - 'm fine, I just watched a rom-com on Netflix and now I’m a complete mess.“ You heard rustling on the other side, and then Toms' voice spoke up again. „Hey, it’s just a movie. Nothing like that will happen in real life, I’m right here.“ You started to cry even harder. He was right there, on the other side of the world.

„But it’s just so unfair - I don’t wanna be all alone here.“ You whined, completely out of your element. You had been living on your own for around ten years now and there had never been any problem with you spending a long period of time all by yourself. You liked it that way.

But oh, what hormones could do to you.

Tom sighed. He had been researching a lot about your pregnancy and he knew that you were in the phase where everything was just a bit dramatic and you would cry all day. He knew that you needed something or someone to hold.

„I think I’ve got a solution. Just wait for an hour, Y/N.“ And with that, he hangs up and left you, a little crying girl, alone. But just like he had said, there was a ring at your door just about half an hour later. When you opened the door, there were two familiar faces in front of you that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

„Haz! Leila!“ You hugged them both, overwhelmed again. Since Tom came into your life, there was always Harrison around him, so you became friends with him too. And when he met his wonderful girlfriend, you two were a pack, always together.

Friends are just the best.

The last two weeks where Tom was still filming in the US, Haz and Leila were with you all they could. You went to the park and they tried to distract you from the emotional wreck you were. You knew that Tom had already told them the big news right after you got them, but the two didn’t judge you. They were so happy and Haz believed that the two of you would be a couple once.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one imagining that.

_____________________________________________

You stood at the airport, with a big sign in your hand and a huge smile on your face. Tom was finally coming back home and you were so excited to finally have him back. It was hard to do this all alone - constantly thinking about the baby’s health. You were so happy that you had a partner to share this with; someone who would always help you and not let go, even if there was just a friendship between the two of you.

His flight was a bit delayed but you didn’t mind because it was the weekend. Finally, people started to fill the arrival hall and you stood on your tip toes, trying to find your best friend. You recognised a brown mop of curly hair and Tom finally came into your sight. He looked really tired due to his long flight but when he saw you, a smile replaced his frown. You had butterflies - no, more like bees in your stomach when he walked towards you with open arms. When he reached you, he pulled you close and you hugged him tightly, not ready to let him go anytime soon.

When you finally let go, his eyes wandered to your stomach, that was still as flat as it used to be. You could see his frown but caressed his shoulder slightly.

„It’s too early to see it, don’t worry. How was your flight?“

_______________________________________________________________

With Tom being back, everything came back into the right order. He spends most days and nights at your home, getting you everything you needed even if you were still able to do everything by yourself. And then it was time for your prenatal appointment - you saw your baby for the first time.

„Oh my god,“ Tom whispered, staring at the screen and pointed at it, even though you were focused on it as well. „That’s our child right there.“ You saw the tears in his eyes and the happiness. You had definitely made the right choice. Your heart pumped a few beats faster, but you were not sure if it was because of the baby on the screen or the happiest Tom you had ever seen. Maybe you knew it, but you would not tell anyone.

„He definitely has my nose,“ Tom said when you sat in the car on the way back home. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes. „Oh, it’s a he now? I think he has my belly button.“ You two laughed out loud, like the good old times. You looked at him, admiring his profile and his happy self.

„You’re staring.“ You blinked and looked out of the window, trying to find another occupation.

„But I don’t like to call the baby it - it sounds like it’s an object and not a human that’s gonna be in our life very soon.“ You nodded, understanding where he was coming from. „What if we give it an animal name, so it’s maybe a bit neutral?“ Toms' eyes were glowing while he thought about a name.

„What do you think of Bear?“

_______________________________________________

The evening was spent with the two of you on the couch watching one of your all-time favourites, the Notebook. You loved the passion in this movie and you also loved Ryan Gosling, so there was that. And with you being highly emotional again, you started crying after five minutes and you didn’t stop until the credits started.

Tom rubbed your back through the whole film, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled at his help and felt so happy again, that he was here with you. So, of course, you started crying again.

„Hey, what’s wrong love?“ Tom whispered, knowing that it was not the movie that was finally ending. He had seen that movie way too many times.

You sniffed, not daring to look into his eyes. „I just really missed you.“ You had always missed him when he was away, but how could it be so much worse?? Damn, this pregnancy had just started and you were not coping with it at all. This would b so much fun.

Tom hugged you from the side and pressed a light kiss on your forehead. „I missed you too, boo. It was weird leaving you all alone.“ You turned your head towards him and now he was so close, that you could feel his breath on your neck. Your eyes wandered to his lips even though your head was telling you that you were just friends just friends just fr - but it stopped completely when Tom pressed his lips on yours and pulled you even closer.

______________________________________________

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[beyainica-blog]

Guess who’s in the 230’s?

A bit bittersweet considering I could have been this weight monday. But I will take it and stop beating myself up.

I am literally 9lbs away from the 220’s. 13 days left until valentines day.

My goal is to get to 220 on valentines. I mean I want to be lower but I will take that. I’m 18lbs away with 13 days left. I need to lose 1.4lbs a day for 13 days to get there. I think I can do it.

Lets start with the bad.

Heart?

Even though I only workout 7-14 mins every day I have been STRUGGLING to get through my workouts. Like it takes me an hour at the gym to complete 14 min workouts. I have no idea what it could be. It honestly could be a whole host of things. I had pneumonia last week, even if the virus is gone. I read that you will feel fatigue for weeks after. Also, I’m on a liquid diet, I’m going to be tired anyway. And on phentermine. My heart is literally racing which it didn’t before, just after pneumonia. Like during my workout I can feel my heart beat out my chest. I guess the caffiene doesn’t have a buffer because I don’t eat

I am extremely weak. At work I try my very best to hold it together. But I feel faint. Luckily it hasn’t been so busy so I don’t have too much to do but still. I’m lucky I have my powerade, it gives me a LITTLE energy and there is enough sugar to keep me standing. I honestly think I’m burning too many calories for not eating anything. Like I don’t count the calories I burn at work standing, I only count when I work out. But yes I do burn calories standing everyone does. Idk if I should shorten my workouts on days that I work. It would be pretty dumb of me to drive to the gym for a 4-5 min workout. It’s already stupid of me to drive there for a 7 min workout. But I will do it. Maybe not workout days I’m working. Idk. I’m losing weight rapidly. I don’t want to give up working out because I want to be toned by the end of it. All of this stress I’m putting myself in is taking a toll on my heart so I need to take it easy.

Take little steps to make it better.

1. Take phentermine AFTER my workouts. See if my heart beats less

If that works thats how I’ll do it. I only took phentermine before because it helped my energy. Thats when I was restricting with food not liquid.

To help with energy. HONESTLY. I don’t drink enough. I think I’m cute and dainty when I don’t finish my powerades because I never do. Like not on purpose I just dont feel like it. Powerade is the only source for electrolytes for me. So I HAVE to drink it. Electrolyte imbalance can also affect heart rate. Honestly I don’t drink powerade or enough electrolyte water which I special order and have been since my water fast. My regime should be to drink a litre of electrolyte water and a whole powerade. Thats enough electrolytes I feel. Tommorow, I’m bringing my 50fl ounces Assentia water that I got for .79 cents which is normally $3. I am drinking that entire thing. You know what I can start doing drinking my water in the car. On my way to work start on it. Don’t start at work. Its less stress to finish. Start finishing my water before I even touch my powerade.

I have to bear with the weakness. I’m fine somewhat its not unbearable yet. I feel the most exhausted after work. I feel like because I’m in a public setting my body just knows to keep it together. I hope I don’t faint until I’m in the 180’s at least. I won’t be THAT heavy but still a complete fat ass.

I plan to keep this liquid diet going. If I become overwhelmed the first thing I will stop is exercise. Even though the workouts are short af. Thats the first thing to go. On days I don’t work. If the problem continues I may have to alternate. One day liquid. One day 500 calories + exercise. I want to be skinny but I want to be alive with minimal damage. Eating isnt binging. Binging is ordering 16 tenders and an X large pizza from Papa Johns with chocolate and a litre of coke. I didn’t plan to eat at all during feburary, but you bet your ass I will if I ABSOLUTELY have too. Honestly I feel like it would make the weight loss faster. Eating 500 is higher than what my body is accustomed to now, so my metabolism will get faster. Like I said, only when I feel like I HAVE to I will eat. The worst thing is having to exercise everything off. Thats what I hated the most about restricting. I love on this liquid diet I only have to workout 7-14 mins a day. Imagine. 14 mins of exercise to burn off a powerade. 5 chicken tenders at 108 calories each would take 32 mins. Thats insane. But at least I’ll have the energy for it.

I am addicted to this FAST weightloss though. I woke up at 240lbs honestly. After work I was 238lbs exactly. We love flunctuations.

Sweating

I have always been a sweater. Like this is genetics. Even when I was younger and skinnier I sweat. But as I’ve gotten bigger I notice that I sweat ALOT more. Its so fucking emberrassing. I’m so scared at work. Literally was getting slight vagina sweat. I can’t even think about it. Everyone will think my vagina is diseased. Its just sweat. I wear a waist trainer. 1. To hide my belly. 2. So it can catch my back sweat. It only goes to my back so I have to wear a tank top under neath. I don’t have a good one because I refuse to spend money on it. Maybe I should start wearing my sports bras and tank until I lose a bit of weight. I started wearing a long sleeve to hide my bat arms but I get so over heated its not even funny. Like I start to sweat everywhere. Yeah having three articles of clothes will make anyone sweat. Of course the heater is on in the resturant I work at because its winter. Mix that with running around to tend to guests you have a sweaty bitch. Being fat doesnt help at all. Neither does being gentically proned to sweat. It makes it 10x worse. So I had to take off my longsleeve at work today because I just clocked in and vacuumed and could already feel the sweat accumulate. AND I JUST GOT THERE. I said nah.

But I guess good news my work shirt is a lot bigger on me, hides my bat arms better than before. The only thing I hate is you can still see my stretch marks on my arms. But they have cleared a bit, it use to be deep ridges in my arm but I lost almost 70lbs. When I get to 200lbs I don’t think they will be there anymore. I’m certain by 180lbs they won’t I bet my life.

My work uniform is black so that makes it worse though I’m thank ful. Today I had to shave my vagina and armpits to stop the sweat some what. Only to wear polyester under wear because again. I don’t wear underwear and I refuse to buy them unless they’re a medium or small. Right now large gives me wedgies so maybe I can fit into a M/L idk but I gotta get more under wear don’t have a choice because I can’t work without underwear. You know Idk if its because I had pneumonia, or if its the phentermine, or if its the liquid diet. But weeks before I didnt sweat this much. I went to work frequently without underwear. I wore my long sleeve shirt no problem. Now its a problem. Sweat can also be caused by fighting an infection. Maybe I’m still fighting the pneumonia. The thing about pneumonia is even after the virus is eliminated by antibiotics its still going to kick your ass for a few weeks. Fatigue and cough

Another thing is I move so fast at work by the time I get back to my post I’m sweating its good but, bad at the same time

Weight is still an issue and why I sweat so much so this is just an incentive to lose more weight.

Goals

I see my doctor on the 22nd or 23rd a week after valentines. I hope to be 209 or lower. By then and if I can keep on this diet I think I can. Last time I was there I was 254 (260 on their scale) so 209 will be a PLEASANT suprise and they will be very happy. Thats a 51lb weight loss and thats ALOT of weight. They will literally worship my feet and give me more phentermine they’ll give me anything I want. Though I gotta do blood work so thats like $168 but its okay it has to be done I understand. I made alot this pay period and the only thing I have to pay is, registration, tax, inspection, gym $10, mom and buy more water and powerade. I should have like $200 left. If not I deffo get paid again the 15th of this month. The 2nd of March. (The day after my cheat day) so my cheat day is on a thursday. Good. Maybe I’ll push it to saturday. Or the day I’m off. Definetly want to be out of the 200’s by the end of feburary thats my top goal.

Valentines day

I hope I’m not hyping it for nothing. I hope I get something from someone.

If I lose 2lbs for the next 13 days I’ll be 212lbs on valentines. (Could have been 207)

If I lose 1.5lbs for the next 13 days. I’ll be 218lbs (could have been 213)

If I lose 1lb a day for the next 13 days I’ll be 225lbs (could have been 220 exactly)

I hope I lose at least 1.5lbs a day consistently. So far I been losing 2-3lbs everyday. 3lbs mostly I would love to lose 3lbs a day for 13 days that would be EXCELLENT. That would put me at 199lbs exactly (could have been 194) imagine if that actually happened. I would DIE. I’m 39lbs away from getting out of the 200’s I’m excited. I just hope I’m losing weight for a reason. Honestly lose 1kg a day is reasonable I eat less than 300 calories a day, and I bet you my starting weight was more than this girl whoever she is. If I get to 199lb by valentines. Bitch. I will be 180lb by the end of feburary. Plateau nor metabolism will stop me.

Boss

Lately I noticed that every time I go to work I work with my one manager that likes me. I can tell he likes me because the other manager which is his friend is always around. They giggle and stare at me. He makes the schedule so that I only work with him. Its kind of cute. I like how I make him shy. But sometimes I get flustered. He catches me off guard. He walks REALLY slow towards me its kind of nerve racking. I purposely dont look at him because its emberrassing. He keeps coming up to me but saying ABSOLUTELY nothing. Adorable.

Jeans

I really wanted to wear size 9 jeans, on valentines. But it wasnt because of my binge. I dont think I was going to fit in them anyway until I get to 180’s but its okay.

My size 16 wide are so fucking loose. The day they fall off my body is the day I stop wearing them period. Until then we gon wear it sis.

Belly

Despite the weightloss I don’t think my bell has been affected at all granted. I’ve only lost like 15lbs I just dont see it in my stomach which is my first problem area. I hope by valentines day at, atleast 212lbs it will reduce. Seriously I’m tired of looking at it. When I was in college at 22, I was 213 and my stomach was FLAT. I remember because I weighed myself. So these next 26lbs better be fucking good to me or I’m FIGHTING. A pound of fat in terms of physical is huge. On the scale its nothing. I’m tired of having a pouch in my jeans. I’m tired of looking at it hang. It needs to go. Arms next. At 180lb I better not see a fucking bat wing in sight.

[shiro-sensei-14]

LWA Chariot and Croix: first meeting

LWA Chariot and Croix first meeting

This is a story I wrote for the Charoix week. I had fun imagining their first meeting. I will probably add one or two chapters later. English is not my mother tongue so there might be some inaccuracies.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from LWA.

Charoix First Meeting

Spring had returned, offering the students of Luna Nova a new school year. Chariot du Nord was walking on the path looking at the trees, admiring their rebirth after that long cold and snowy winter. Some buds had already popped up on their branches and Cherry trees were blooming. The thin pink cherry blossoms were flying all around her each time the wind blew. With her messy hair, she could bet she would bring a lot of them to class. She did not mind, she loved that season and cherry trees alleys were her favourite. So if she could carry a little bit of the beauty with her that would be just heart-warming. It was a warm and sunny day, the sky was deep blue without clouds. Ay, if only she could have spent the whole day outside instead of going to class. Alas, this was out of the question anyway. And her joyful mood turned a little gloomy while thinking of all the boring classes that were awaiting her. Especially the magical potion class; she was so bad at it that her teacher kept scolding her. She could be considered a danger since she had already provoked minor explosions.

Lost in her thoughts, not looking where she was walking, she suddenly stumbled on a root and fell heavily on the ground.

"Are you OK?" a voice asked behind her. Chariot turned her head in the direction of the voice and saw a girl about the same age gazing in her direction with a worried look on her face. Chariot felt embarrassed of the situation and laughed nervously, brushing the back of her head.

"Yeah, it happens to me all the time" She immediately regretted to have said that, she should have looked dumb. The girl, however, did not laugh at her but inclined her head and observed Chariot's knees.

"You hurt yourself, I might have something for you." She fumbled in her bag and took out a bottle of water, a handkerchief, a patch and a tiny spray.

"Wow! You are well organized" Chariot observed with admiration.

"You never know what might happen"

While the girl was cleaning and disinfecting the scrapes, Chariot was glaring at her. She was taller than her, quite thin with nice figures. Her hair was long curly lavender and smelt of lilac; her big droopy green eyes were hiding behind glasses. Her moves were soft and precise. Her low voice matched perfectly with her maturity.

"There, it's done!" She offered her hand to help Chariot standing up. When she held it, Chariot felt a sudden flash in her chest, her ruby eyes met the jade ones and she gasped.

"does it hurt?" asked the unknown girl.

"N... no, I'm alright, really..." she babbled.

"Ok, Have a nice day then." The girl was about to leave when Chariot called her.

"Wait... Thank you." She said blushing.

"It's ok. Goodbye" And the beautiful stranger turned heels and walked in haste. Chariot was startled, she was wondering why her heart was fluttering that way. She could not get her eyes off of the silhouette disappearing afar.

The first period was about to start, all the students of the class 2 –B were chatting in small groups except Chariot. Usually she would be the one animating the class with her transformation skills, but today she was sitting at her desk, spacing out and looking through the window. She could not help thinking of this fortunate morning encounter and regretted not to have even asked for her name. She sighed heavily. When the all class stood in a military manner, she understood that her homeroom teacher had entered and she had better do the same.

"Sit down." Ms Anne Finnelan ordered firmly. "Today, I would like to introduce a transfer student, would you please come in?" Everybody was looking curiously towards the door when a lavender-haired girl came in with assertiveness.

"Good Morning, my name is Croix Meridies. I have been studying at Edwards Academy until last year. I want to develop my skills in traditional Magic; that is why I enrolled Luna Nova. I am glad to meet you."

"Ms Meridies, there is a seat available in the back of the second rank. This will be your desk for this semester."

"Thank you Professor Finnelan."

Chariot dropped jaws when she recognized the beautiful stranger. Her eyes were wide open and her look observed each part of the transfer student to make sure she was not hallucinating.

Croix sat at her desk without giving a glance to Chariot. She was two seats above her on the first rank on her right. Chariot could not focus on anything else than the newcomer. Her heart had started pounding again at her sight. She decided that she would properly introduce herself at the break but the students sitting around her monopolized her and she could not even approach her. The situation repeated itself after the second period. She would get her chance before the potion class since they had to change room to go to the labs. But once again, the class representatives and a bunch of noisy girls surrounded her, harassing her with questions. Croix politely answered but seemed annoyed by the situation.

They reached the lab and in groups of three they started working on a healing potion.

"Dear students, follow the recipe in the correct order. You were supposed to find the ingredients let's see what you have here. You will be marked on the quality of your components." The teacher analysed meticulously each ingredient before authorizing the manipulation. If one ingredient was missing or not correct, the students would lose marks but would be able to use the lab materials. Croix was not belonging to any group for the lesson so the teacher let her use the ingredients of the laboratory. She started on her own to melt raven blood, with oil and salt, then she added weeds from the enchanted swamp, a slice of cherry wood, a dose of wise person ashes and two litres of water from the same swamp. She heated the potion and mixed it all for the next two hours.

In the meantime Chariot and her team were having a hard time. They had not been able find the correct ashes so they had burnt a piece of wood and brought the remains to class. The teacher, who had a huge nose, immediately recognized the smell and yelled at the girls.

All the attention was focused on the trio and Chariot met Croix's look. She would have liked to vanish in an instant, shame invading her. She gulped and obeyed the teacher who had told her to fetch the correct ingredients. She was looking at the jars but the ink had faded and it was hard to read the name. She finally took something looking like ashes from the shelf and brought it back to her team. They could start the manipulation with relief. But when Chariot heated the mixture, a terrible smell came out of her cauldron. This was so awful that the teacher asked the students to evacuate the class for a moment. She used a magic spell to return the potion to something decent and opened all the windows with a single move of her wand. A whirlwind twirled above the cauldrons and the teacher pushed it in the direction of the windows. The atmosphere became breathable again.

The teacher called Chariot and shouted at her once more in front of the class. She was looking at her feet, shaking and feeling nauseous. She could not help imagining how Croix would be despising her and this thought made her even more desperate.

"You should ask for tutoring, it is unthinkable for a second-year student to be so careless! But I am not sure any of the students here would like to teach you."

"I will!" the low assertive voice came from the back of the class. Chariot once again felt that flash shooting through her heart. That voice was the one she had heard this morning. Croix was standing for her. She could not believe it, nor could the other students. Even if Chariot was popular among her peers, everybody knew that teaching her potions was hopeless. Only a newcomer could take the risk.

Chariot was all flustered and muttered a "thank you" in Croix's direction before looking back at her feet and joining her group.

After classes, the students were either joining their clubs or went to the library to make research. Chariot was collecting her books and notes when Croix walked in her direction.

"Let's go to the lab."

"Wh... now?"

"Of course now; you need practice. Don't worry I'll be there to help you. The teacher told me that we could use all the ingredients in the lab as long as we wrote in the registry exactly what we had used."

"Aren't you scared that I blow up the lab?"

"It's going to be alright, I'll be there and I have always been the ace of my class in Potions."

"huuh, How much did you get this afternoon?"

"100/100, as usual; I used to teach my classmates. I was the professor's assistant at Edwards. So I am not scared teaching you, even if you screwed up this afternoon." Chariot gritted her teeth at the last comment.

They walked to the lab and Croix opened her tablet. Chariot opened her eyes, she was not used to this modern device, especially in school. Of course she had a mobile phone but it was forbidden to use it at Luna Nova.

"Wow, does the Head know that you are using this device here?"

"I am a modern girl, I believe in technology. I am sure that we can mix the benefits of traditional Magic with new technologies."

"Well, don't claim that too loud, Luna Nova is very conservative you know, you'd better hide this."

"Nobody will see us here, and all my notes and books are recorded on the hard drive. Look, this is my favourite book of potions. Select one recipe from the first chapter."

Chariot browsed the pages by flipping her finger on the screen and selected "enhanced speed potion" Croix sat beside her and started explaining the importance of the choice of the ingredients. Chariot was feeling the heat of her body and had difficulties focusing on the lesson. She wanted to touch her but did not dare. Croix was passionate when it came to science and without thinking she put her hand on Chariot's thigh, the latter letting escape a gasp of surprise. Croix did not expect that reaction and looked a little embarrassed. She wiped her glasses to try to appear composed.

"Now, find what you need to prepare the mixture and write this down here." Chariot was climbing on the ladders, reading each pot, each jar until she found the components

"Very well, now I will show you the importance of the moves. Potions are not just adding elements together, there is a way to do this, let me hold your wrist."

"heee?" Chariot was destabilized; never a teacher had talked about the importance of the moves, even less had physically guided her to make a potion. Croix stood behind her and leaned on her, her arm following the shape of Chariot's.

"You are so tense, relax. I want to see this wrist become lax. Come on!"

"So...Sorry. Hem uh... li...like this?"

"yes, let's mime it before..." and like a choreography, Croix guided her partner with her natural elegance. "Up and down, up and down, softly, softer, yes, like this, go on, don't stop. Without me now." Croix released Chariots wrists but remained clung on her, her hands on her shoulders. Chariot could feel her breath on her neck and started being nervous again. Croix caught immediately her hand and led her once again. Then she stepped back and observed her student.

"Now with the elements, don't be scared, you've rehearse the move enough." And Chariot repeated the hand choreography with the ingredients this time.

"Good now, you just need to heat it up. 100 degrees, no more ;for two hours. Yes done! So I will go to the library and come back in two hours. Don't make a mess!" Croix winked at her while Chariot had opened her mouth to protest.

"Croix! You are not going to leave me like that, are you?"

"there's nothing more to do than to check. I'll leave you my tablet if you want to read more about potions." And she left without listening to her classmate.

There was nothing else to do so Chariot decided to follow Croix's advice. She browsed the book and found a chapter concerning emotions. "Love Filter". She suddenly thought that could be something fun to create. The image of Croix invaded her; she was totally under her spell. Her heart started bouncing again at the remembrance of her embrace while guiding her. How hard it had been to remain focused while her entire self wanted to hold her back. She started dreaming of the moment she had felt her breath in the neck and had longed for a kiss. There was no doubt, she had fallen for that newcomer, and it was love at first sight.

"Maybe if I could make that potion, she would feel the same." She was thinking aloud with a cunning smile on her face. She looked carefully at the recipe; it was quite simple with few ingredients, maybe the teacher would not even remark she had taken a little more. The heating time was short as well, forty-five minutes.

"come on Chariot, let's go!" she started rushing all over the lab, found easily the ingredients and started to place them before a second cauldron. She repeated the moves several times before starting the mixture.

"Ok, we're ready, let's heat it... 120 degrees. The timer is here, Go!" Chariot was going from one cauldron to the other, from time to time, giving a little twirl with the spoon. She was looking anxiously at the door; she had suddenly thought that Croix could come back earlier.

But the first timer rang. She used a pipette to transfer the liquid in a tube she hid in her bag. She washed the cauldron, hid all the materials she had used and cleaned the bench. Everything was tidied up as if she had never used anything else.

Five minutes before the end of the second timer, Croix came back to the lab. Chariot was pretending to be focused on her potion. Croix took her tablet and consulted the history of the pages visited. She realised that Chariot had spent more than an hour on the Love filter page. She smirked and put the tablet on the table. The timer rang.

"Ok, then turn off the gaz. Take a pipette and the tube rake. Fill in the tubes. Now your potion is ready."

"wow, I have destroyed nothing today."

"Let's test it!"

"Oh... shall I drink it?"

"Are you crazy? Never use it on yourself first, test it on a mouse."

"A mouse? Do you want me to turn into a mouse, this is one of my specialties!"

"Baka! No way! We are in a lab, I suppose there are mice for your biology lessons."

"hem, I have never worked on them personally, I am against animal testing!"

"Well, my dear, when you are a scientist, you have no choice if you want to make research."

"I am sure there are plenty of other ways to test especially with your new technologies."

"There are but not for everything, not yet. I am working on it on my spare time. Well in the meantime, let's find a mouse"

"The Professors lab is over there but we cannot... hey how did you open that door?"

"New technologies... no I'm joking, the door was unlocked." Croix sneaked in the lab and found a second room with hundreds of mice in cages. She opened a cage and stole a mouse.

"Croix! If we are caught we might be expelled!"

"Tsk, there are almost a thousand mice over here; they will not make the difference. Ok now take a pipette and give the potion to that little buddy."

Chariot executed the move reluctantly, her hand was shaking. A drop fell in the mouse's throat. Suddenly it escaped from Croix's hands and rushed like a rocket all around the lab!

"It worked! It actually worked!" Chariot was ecstatic. Croix was observing carefully the little living being when it abruptly stopped and fell on its flanks. Chariot wondered what was going on. Croix took the little mouse listened to its heart.

"It's over, she's dead."

"WHHHHHHHAAAAATTTTT?" Chariots eyes started filling up with tears

Croix put the mouse on the bench and rushed to Chariot and took her in her arms

"There, there" She patted her head while pressing her against her body.

"I killed her, I killed her..."

"We did, and I am responsible."

"How did that happen, I followed strictly the recipe, you followed me, why? Why?" she said crying.

"Because there was one last step that you neglected, it's the amount of product compared to the size and weight of the user. Even a drop for that little being was too strong, she had a heart attack. Do you understand now why I forbade you to use it on yourself? Your potion is a success, for a Human being, but you need to calculate accurately the dose before using it."

"You knew and you let me do it!" She yelled.

"I know this is cruel, but with this shock, you will not play with potions anymore. Now give me that love filter and let me destroy it before you kill someone."

"HEEEEEEEEE?" she stopped crying all of a sudden and quickly wiped her eyes.

"I know everything dear, erase the history of my tablet if you do not want me to find out. Who did you want to use it on?"

Chariot was startled and could not articulate a word, she was all flustered.

"Hey, relax, I won't tell anybody. You shouldn't need a love potion, you are just adorable as you are."

"Stop mocking me."

"I am not, Chariot du Nord. I like you. When you fell this morning, I immediately fell...for you. There was something disarming in you that attracted me."

"You are making fun of me, how could you fall for somebody so clumsy, useless... and a mouse killer!"

Croix burst out laughing.

"You see, that's exactly why I have fallen in love with you. You are real, Chariot, sincere, and super cute."

"huh? You think I am cute?"

"yes, indeed!"

"well, to be honest, I think you are hot and I kept thinking about you all day."

Chariot tightened her embrace.

"Why do you think I offered tutoring. I wanted to be with you."

"So why did you leave me for two hours?" Chariot whined.

"I am taking my tutoring seriously; this was part of the lesson. I had let my tablet on purpose, knowing that you would have tried something. I did not expect the love potion though. Well, wait... You intended to try it on ... ME?"

"Huh em... yes." Chariot answered with a little voice hiding her face in Croix's shoulder.

"BAKA!" Croix lift Chariot chin and kissed her lips. Chariot blushed at first but kissed her back. they held each other, their hands rubbing softly one another's back. The kiss became more intense, Croix bit from time to times Chariots inferior's lip. Their tongues were dancing and playing hide and seek. Both of their hearts were racing and desire growing.

"Let's go to my room, I have no roommate."

"Me neither... maybe we could ask the administration to be together."

"It would be fantastic."

Chariot this time was the one to kiss Croix first with all her passion. She then held her hand and led her to her room.

[perkoform]

SKITS

Title:

The WHOLE-SALE

Characters:

Shipping God

Middle Man

Customer

Plot:

Okay so middle man is on the phone to shipping God the whole time. Customer is trying to buy a beauty product that makes you look EXACTLY like Grace Kelly, through this shipping company. But middle man keeps refusing.  It is one act.

*note on recitation: watch youtube video called: Zuikin Girls – take anything you want! For tonal value.

Dialogue:

Shipping god: we can’t sell that. Tell her that.

Middle man: I’m sorry ma’am we can’t sell you that product today.

Customer: come on, I have the money. (Pause). Trust me sir, I know about the side effect, how it makes you look EXACTLY like Grace Kelly.

Middle man: (turns away from customer) she says she has the money and that she knows about the side effect, what do I say.

Shipping God: don’t tell her anything. Say we do not sell this product.

Middle Man: I’m sorry ma’am we do not sell this product, you will have to try somewhere else.

Customer: (to audience) contrary to popular cinematic convention, (whips out giant gun) I’m not going to whip out a giant gun and threaten the guy, because I can’t get what I want. (throws gun over shoulder)

Customer: it’s a beauty product! I mean, can’t I for a moment take my own health into my own hands…?! (scoff)

Shipping God: tell her, it’s her health.

Middle Man: it’s your health, ma’am.

Everyone laughs

*Someone holds up a sign to the audience that says, ‘LATERS, ON…’

On stage is a girl with her hair in a towel, wearing a GRACE KELLY mask.

    Title:

I ordered ‘The Rest of Eternity’ Online

Characters:

Shipping God

Customer

DIALOGUE: Customer: hi, I ordered ‘someone else’s life to live’ the other day from your company, but some part of the product was still a drag to experience, and I’d like my money back please.

Shipping God: I’m sorry sir, there must have been some kind of mistake. I would like to inform you that we have just received a new shipment of, ‘Krishna’s Own’ Good Karma, ‘Corrupt Cops’, ‘Colonial Values’ and ‘The Original Scapegoat’ that comes in ‘the body and the blood red’,‘Twin Towers were an inside job grey’, and ‘the dingo stole my baby blue’. The blue one comes with an ‘assumption’, on the house. Would you like to try one of these products today sir?

Customer: Why thank-you, I might try ‘Corrupt Cops’. Do you still stock Solipsism? Yes? Thank-you, I’d like to order 22 of this product if that’s possible.

Shipping God: Okay sir, the items will be shipped out just in time for the next mention of a social revolution.

Customer: tank-you.

             Title:

The Punch-Up: Season 1

Characters:

Fred

Jim

(played by women)

Plot:

Fred and Jim are having a rational conversation about how they do not get along at the moment and about how they used to be friends.

*NOTE: Jim and Fred both wear one boxing glove each. Fred is holding a beer can the whole time. Jim is holding tongs and wearing an apron.

Dialogue:

Fred: oh my god I hate youuuuuuu…(said like, hi how are you?)

*throws a punch

Jim: you have no idea (said like, its been a while how are you? Using fake smiles.)

*throws a punch

Fred: I’m going to kill you over that incident with my wife.

*punching each other

Jim: haven’t you heard of polyamory, maybe you should branch out and actually live a little.

*remove their punching gloves and stop punching

Fred: you know…you make a good point. I actually can’t fight you there…I agree, but you see I’m channelling Barbara, (turns to crowd and says, ‘she’s my wife’) and she needs me to be jealous, so you are gonna fuckin’ pay for what you did. I am pissed.

*put gloves back on and start punching again

Jim: tell her I’d knock her up, that’ll do it. .  

*cease punching for a moment, jim and fred grab each other by the shoulders and say

Fred: we should all just have kids withal the wimmin. Leave no womin unimpregnated. 24/7.

Jim: yeah, what kind of society is this? What are we even doing here, I mean why isn’t 24/7 baby making like, the norm??

*resumes punching. Jim continues punching as Fred stops to contemplate

Fred: I’m gonna try and answer that. Perhaps it’s just not the right time in earth’s geological cycle to support that kind of reproduction, the food plants are not growing enough. They are sending us an internal, instinctual message that this is kind of life is not supportable at the moment.

Fred continues punching as Jim states

Jim: very logical, I think that’s the reason. So again, why do you hate me? Because Barbara needed you to be jealous so that she feels valued?

*fight stops for a second

Fred: I’m not the type to say to her, ‘but hey Barbara, you scored me and Jim!’

- maybe I should say to her, ‘you’re an individual’, that wouldn’t go down that well, maybe ‘you’re special, there’s only one of you’.

Jim: try saying, ‘you suit me uniquely’

Laughter from Fred and Jim

*resume punching. They punch for a while. Jim goes down cold, Fred states

Fred: it’s just like I don’t even know, there’s no one like her or anyone for that matter. Even twins are different. So like, I can’t value her anymore at the moment.

*Jim is lying on the ground, he states

Jim: I get it you have to like, show her that you value her, without getting into a brawl, show her that jealousy is not the answer! Free love is the answer!

Fred: I don’t know how that’s possible, all reason aside.

Jim: okay Fred, okay.

 PROPS:

Boxing gloves

A moustache (for Fred)

Face paint (to paint a beard on Jim)

Beer can

Tongs

Misogynistic apron

*note must be wearing wife beaters and short shorts

    Title:

Get A Way With It

CHARACTERS:

Jimmy

God

PLOT:

*Jimmy is reciting the following text, while doing the following things:

 Jimmy shoots Satan

Jimmy shoots God

Jimmy dowsing the Great Barrier reef with bleach.

Jimmy cuts down the oldest tree known to man.

Jimmy dressed as Captain Cook, shooting Aborigines

Jimmy dressed as Bob Marley, shooting the sheriff.

A baby born doll with giant lollipop. Jimmy steals the lollipop.

Jimmy is wearing a shirt that says, ‘Get-a-way-with-it’

 DIALOGUE:

*Jimmy smokes a bong.

God: And so it was told, (Jimmy shoots Satan)

Jimmy: (said with an efficient air) Shit in one hand, wish in the other and see which one gets full quickest. (shoots God)

This is what my mother used to say. (Shoots aborigine)

Because everyone knows that if you can get away with it, (bleaches the reef)

it’s legal. Because, well, it happened. (steals candy from baby) No one stopped you right?

and so, It. Is. legal. (licks the lollipop, then throws it away)

So, aim for the heart, stab once, and tell ‘em, down the street. Because (shoots the Sheriff)

you only get one chance, and if you fuck it up, it’s your head on the chopping block. (cuts down the tree)

 PROPS:

Hitler moustache

Bandana (for aborigine)

Face paint – black and white

boomerang

Fork and horns

Toga and beard

Captain cook hat

A map

20 Litre storage container/round fish tank with coral statue in it. (to label with a sign that says ‘the great barrier reef’)

Bottle of bleach

A bong

Baby born doll

Giant carnival lollipop

Dreadlock wig

Sheriff badge

Potato gun

Potato

Cardboard cut-out of a tree

A saw

A t-shirt

Black marker

          Title:

Poignant Sculptural representations #1: The Winning Diorama at the Primary School Fete

Plot:

20 litre storage container full of black water with a layer of dirt and astro-turf stuck to the lid. Jimmy sticks a pump in the turf and pumps out the “oil” into a jerry can, by sucking on the pipe. Meanwhile, an automated voice reads out geological facts about oil and its lifespan and how it’s the nutrients for the forests of the future.  (in a really poignant way.)

Title:

Poignant Sculptural Representation #2: The Prospective Sculpture

Plot:

On a table is 30kg of clay with a scroll in a canister, hidden inside. Participants have 5minute to search through the clay for the canister with the scroll inside. If they find the scroll they get a free beer. This will be on stage by the way, in the interval.

              Title:

Track Marks and Pigeonholes

Characters:

‘Main Character’

‘Other people’

Plot:

*this is a video work

‘Main character’ is not a heroin addict.

‘Other people’ believe that ‘main character’ is a heroin addict. ‘Other people’ won’t stop treating ‘main character’ like a heroin addict.

‘Other people’ are constantly trying to catch ‘main character’ in “the act” of taking heroin but ‘main character’ actually never takes heroin so they will never catch them.

‘Other people’ cry and wail and state “when do you do it, I know that you do!” and grab him by the arm, to check for track marks.

‘Main character’ always begs ‘other people’ to believe that “I don’t do that, seriously. I don’t know what else to say.”

SCENARIOS:

‘other people’ bust in on ‘main character’ and accuse him of taking heroin:

-          On the toilet

-          In the shower

-          In bed asleep

-          At the corner store at 11pm

-          Driving

-          Praying in an empty church

-          Helping an old lady across the street

-          While watching television, the people on the television are accusing him.

-          Running from crazed fan grrls.

-          In china from inside a bowl of rice.

-          After he drops a hanky and a crowd swamp him ‘Perfume-style’. He blurts out over the top of the crowd, I don’t take heroin!

Haha

 *ALSO:

Idea: Making Mighty Boosh Into a SERIOUS DRAMA about father-son bonding psychology

Title:

Initially Undetected

Story:

“You’re Not allowed to Draw Me While I’m Raping you emotionally with This Other Girl,” he said, sounding a bit annoyed. “it totally ruins the point.” He got up and pulled out his dick, no no, he pulled it out then got up and walked over to me. He grabbed the computer I was using to draw him with (on paint) and clipped me in the head, with the computer. I went down cold, hah hah. Funny story.

 Title:

Last in Winning Backwards #1

Plot:

A girl wakes up in her backyard one morning. She is lying on her back on the grass. She thinks, “it’s a beautiful day, I might go for a walk”. She goes for a walk in the park. As she’s walking she contemplates life. The end.

Dialogue:

*Birds twitter. The sun is shining.

Girl: hmm I think I might go for a walk.

*Cut to park. Girl is walking

Girl: I think that I might believe today that I was born along time ago. And it was before anyone I know in this life were ever alive. I had decided shortly after I was born that, I would never fuck and live forever. So I guess it makes sense that larger society marginalise me. I ignore it when they marginalise anyone else, really it’s just me. The point being, for the third time, they marginalise people. They hate. They are murderers. They don’t get shit. They don’t honestly do it with the same vengeance to everyone else, and and, hell is hierarchical. Not heaven. So I’m the top dog around here. Do you get shit? Hah hah respiratory I fucking will wake up in this bed cunt tomorrow morning. You will NOT get me out of bed, CUNT.