#stop it uncle its the fifth time today!! i know you love me!!!

[umossu]

[buck-nialled]

Butcher's Daughter - A. Russell Imagine

NOTE: a lil' imagine about arvin crushing on the local butcher's daughter. idk how to feel about this one, and it's also barely proofread but I hope some of you still like it. I've never written for arvin before but if you're interested in more please let me know!

TAGLIST: @niallberry​ @swiftmendeshoran​ @theshyspy @clarabsevero @golden-hoax @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @organicpurplepants @wowitsel @sunwardsss @lovely-blackinnon @tomsirishgirl @tomsirishgirlx @whoeveniskendall @multihoee @haterpenny @highontomholland @nxtty-m

Next to his mattress, Arvin’s favorite spot in town to visit was the local butcher. Any opportunity to drop by the small store, the boy exploited. Maybe a little too much. He recalls his uncle Earskell giving him an earful on how he spent nearly all his monthly allowance on a chicken breast. An unnecessary one at that, as Emma had concluded the family’s grocery trip a day prior.

The Russell boy did not know how you carried such a charm with you that urged him to drop in that day and purchase the cold, naked bird on impulse. One could take a guess that your daddy had brought you up well in business talk. But all you had exchanged with Arvin was greetings before he sputtered out his order and slapped a bill down onto the counter. Even with sweat collecting on your forehead from the afternoon light beaming into the shop, and the strands of hair that were never obedient enough to be kept in your up-do, Arvin still found you as gorgeous as the sunset offering your profile a heavenly glow.

After hearing word of the new preacher in town and Emma’s invitation to visit the butcher, Arvin was the first to stand up from his seat at the dinner table as a volunteer.

“Not at this hour, boy. Sit down.” Earskell shook his head.

Lenora leaned up from her chair a tad, closer to Earskell, and mumbled like it was a secret. “He just wants to go and see Y/N.” Her voice carried to everybody present though, including Emma who had a knack for meddling.

“Ooh, who’s Y/N?”

“She a friend of yours, son?” Earskell inquired. The boy’s eyes narrowed at Lenora, who held a satisfied smile.

“Barely.” She interjects.

“Nora.” Arvin hisses, cheeks growing red beneath the dim light hanging above the oak table. The girl only continues chatting, knowing from experience that facing Arvin’s wrath would be little to nothing of a whine or complaint of her blabbermouth.

“She’s a classmate of ours that Arvin never stops staring at. I wonder how she hasn’t noticed.” The red-cheeked boy emits a groan, placing his bent arms on the table and burrowing his face into his hands.

“Elbows off the table, Arv.” Scolds Emma, who swats at his plaid-covered arms with her napkin.

“Well, maybe she has noticed. She might be waitin’ for you to say somethin’ son.” Suggests his uncle.

“Yeah right. The girl hardly knows my name. She probably only knows me as the freak who bought a whole chicken breast.” He stares down at his half-empty plate, fork picking at the white meat as he glances back on that day.

“Well, the offer’s still open if you’d like to join me tomorrow,” Emma says. And as embarrassed as he was, Arvin knew he could not pass up the chance to see her face again, instead of just the back of it in class after class.

The next morning, his heart was lurching from his chest as he parked the car and went around to the passenger side to collect Emma. He was blanched, palms sweaty and constantly removing his baseball cap to run fingers through his greasy tendrils.

“Arvin, honey, calm down. Just go in and be yourself, the girl ain’t gonna kill you for saying she’s pretty.” Emma encourages with a small pat against the boy’s shoulder.

Whiffing the stench of meat descending from the other side of the door, he tries gulping down the feeling of his stomach tying itself into knots and nods his head. Time to grow a pair, the Russell boy thinks to himself.

He holds the door open for Emma and follows in behind her, observing the small shop he practically memorized the layout of by now. He could name each of the select meats they offered from the top of his head. He turns his head and recognized another classmate of his, Jared Y/L/N, otherwise known as your brother.

“Hey, welcome.” He nods his head towards Emma, who perused the options. “Fine mornin’ we’re havin’.” He turns his head and spots Arvin.

“What you got planned after school today, Arv.” Due to the countless times the brunette dropped in to ‘say hello’, all small talk went out the window between himself and your family by his fifth trip.

“Cliff Baker says he can get me on the crew laying blacktop on the Greenbrier stretch off Route 60. I’m probably just gonna do that. You?” Jared’s answer fades and turns muffled to Arvin, as his eyes catch you descending from the freezer, donning an apron.

“Mornin’ Emma.” You spare a smile towards the woman. “Lookin’ for a dish for the sermon, too?” You lift an eyebrow. Arvin gazed as the two of you made casual conversation on what would be best to serve within budget.

“You know, I think Arvin had something he wanted to ask you about a school assignment.” Emma implies with a smirk towards you. Upon hearing this, Arvin’s eyes grow impossibly big as he spins in each direction, yearning for a hiding place to magically appear.

“Hey, you.” You fold your arms over one another on the store’s counter with an angelic smile.

“Y/N...h-hey.”

“Here to buy another chicken breast?” You giggle, cueing something in the boy’s insides to flutter uncontrollably.

“Not today, unfortunately. Just dropping in to…” he takes a few brave steps closer towards you.

“Say hi? You do that a lot here. I don’t see you goin’ anywhere else in town but here to do that.” Arvin digs his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, sharing a quick shrug of his shoulders.

“Guess I just got a soft spot for the girl behind the counter.” He bends his head down to meet your eyes and quickly heating cheeks. The two of you shared proximity so minimal a conversation could be shared in whispers. The kitchen doors slamming open pulled the two of you away, however. Arvin cleared his throat as he eyed the owner of the establishment—your father—saunter over to the two of you.

“Why, hello there. Can I help you boy?” The bearded man spoke in a gruff voice. Unlike Y/N and Jared who worked the store regularly, Mr. Y/L/N manned the truck and kept his priorities on picking up the meats and delivering them. Therefore, neither had been introduced to one another up until now.

“Uh, daddy this is Arvin. Arvin, this is my father. He and I go to school together.” She informs the brooding figure.

“Nice to meet you, Arvin.” The man sticks an arm out over the counter to reveal a large cleaver in his clutch. The boy, ready to shake the older man’s hand flinched at the sight.

“Ah, my apologies.” He tries his other hand, which was thankfully bare of any potential weapons. Arvin feels clammy by the action, wondering if the flaunting of the utensil was truly an accident on your father’s part. “So, you two have school together, eh?” His eyes flick back and forth between you and Arvin.

“Daddy-“ you begin.

“Ah, no worries sweet pea. Why don’t you give us a few moments alone. I want to talk to the boy.” Rolling your eyes, you meet Arvin’s brown ones, which are now swimming with fear. Before you trade places with your dad to go speak some more with Emma, you manage to mouth a small apology to him for the interrogation he was no doubt about to face.

“Now, look boy. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s no secret you like makin’ googly eyes at my daughter...and you probably think you’re real sly about it too.” Arvin’s cheeks become painted scarlett yet again underneath your father’s hard eyes. “Am I right?” His crows feet become more defined with his hardening glare.

“Y-yes sir, but—“

“Ah, ah, let me finish. Emma raised you, and I’ve seen you helpin’ your sister around the church and such...you seem like a good kid. So if you’d like to go steady with my daughter, you have my permission.” The boy lets a large breath of relief out and feels his heart begin reaching its normal pace again.

“But...if you so much as hurt or disrespect her, I will not hesitate to put your hand through the meat slicer. You understand me, boy?” Again, his heartbeat reaches his ear with every thump, clouding the man’s hearty chuckles as Arvin vigorously nods.

“Good.”

[edie-baby]

Les Fleurs du Mal Chapter 1| Pierre Gasly

Summary: Sava Dvorakova had big dreams for Formula One. An opportunity of a lifetime comes around, so she takes it and runs. She proved just about everyone wrong, and is awarded a very controversial seat on the F1 grid. There’s smiles and grins, hugs and kisses, love and laughter. There’s tears and sobs, fights and break ups. There’s evil where you least expect it, hidden in the garden of eden. The Flowers of Evil.

Warnings: a lot of swearing, shitty parents (they’re a recurring theme), sexism, i ignored a lot of actual f1 rules because i couldn’t be bothered writing it into the story tbh, yuki is fcking adorable, a lot of smut eventually, like a lot.

There were hundreds, thousands, maybe even a million girls who have dreamed of making it into Formula One. It is the pinnacle of motorsport, the highest calibre and the most competitive of its many engine-based counterparts. Many women over the years have tried to make their way into the sport, but as each season becomes more competitive, it seems as though the women of motorsport keep slipping through the cracks. Perhaps it’s a timing thing - they weren’t in the right place at the right time - or perhaps it’s a sexism thing, or maybe the female drivers just simply are not at the same level that a lot of the men are at.

Sava Dvorakova feared being one of those women. One that would try their hardest, but were still unable to make their mark on a sport they had very clear passion for. The seventeen year old had been karting since her fifth birthday, progressing through the levels the Czech Republic had to offer before she moved onto European championships. Nearly every weekend of the year, Sava was in her kart, racing against boys three years her senior and thrashing them each time. However, she didn’t get the opportunity to progress into single-seaters for many years.

It was September 2020, just like any other race weekend when it happened, Sava piled into her kart as the marshalling for her heat was called. Her uncle patted the top of her helmet for good luck, a tradition the two had kept for about twelve years at this point, and she made it out onto her starting place - pole position as usual. Sava pulled clean moves the entire race, defended her position without being reckless or desperate, and had perfect pace. As she pulled back into the pits under her team’s marquee, she spotted her uncle speaking with an older man in a button up and slacks, something quite odd for a normal karting weekend. Sava hopped out, practically ripping her helmet and balaclava off as her footsteps increased in pace to get to her uncle. He scooped her up into a hug, spinning the girl a few times and congratulating her on another victory for the season.

“Bunny, this is Doctor Helmut Marko, he’s the director of Red Bull Racing. He’d like to speak with you about a driving opportunity.” Sebastian, her uncle, stated clearly, his excitement spilling into his eyes as he stared at his seventeen year old niece. Her dyed-pink hair sat matted to her forehead, the majority of it spun into Dutch braids down her back that would be tucked into the back of her race suit before the next race, her cheeks were flushed red, and her bottom lip was cracked in places from how much the Czech nibbled on it on and off track. Sebastian almost laughed at the situation she had ended up in.

“Dr Marko, it’s lovely to meet you. I have an hour until my next heat, so if you would like to speak urgently, there is a small cafe about a hundred metres from the track. If you’d like less of a time constraint, I will be completely free after 4pm today.” Sava told the man in front of her, Czech accent so thick the Austrian could barely understand her.

“It should only take about 10 minutes, so if you’d like, I can buy you and your uncle a coffee at the cafe while we speak.” Dr Marko offered. Sava nodded calmly, her uncle much more vocal about his excitement. Sava excused herself to change into less sweaty clothes, returning in a halter-neck singlet and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. Her trusty combat boots stepped over all of the tools, debris, and shit that was scattered around the pits as she made it back to the two men.

“So, Sava, what is your goal in karting?” Dr Marko began almost immediately after the trio had sat down in the cafe.

“To make it into formula one and win multiple world championships.” Sava responded confidently, barely a second between the question and her reply as it was something she had thought about for a very long time.

“So why aren’t you already driving in single seaters?” Dr Marko questioned further, and from the corner of her eye, Sava could see her uncle tense up.

“Because no one’s willing to give me a chance in the big leagues because they know I’ll do a lot better than half the boys on the grid.” The seventeen year old replied. Helmut seemed impressed with the rapid fire, confidence laden responses he was receiving.

“Well, I’m willing to. Jehan Daruvala, a Red Bull junior currently driving for Carlin in formula two is unable to attend the last three races of the season because of health issues. I want you to take his seat for those races, and if you’re as good in a single seater as you are in that kart, I’ll make sure you have a seat for next year.” Helmut laid out, and Sebastian audibly choked. Sava smirked at her uncle’s reaction, and stared into the eyes of the man offering her a fast track to her dreams.

“I’d love to. When and where is the next race?” Sava chuckled, her uncle’s recovery from his choking fit was slow, and Helmut looked on in amusement. He had seen many similar reactions from the drivers he was propositioning, but it seemed as though this duo had reversed the normal roles.

“The weekend begins on Thursday in Italy. You’ll be racing in Mugello.” Helmut told the pair dryly. Sebastian began coughing once again, Sava simply rubbing his back soothingly while she nodded.

“I’ll need to make arrangements with my school, but I presume you’ll make travel and accommodation arrangements from Prague to Mugello?” Sava continued her calm conversation, though she could feel her natural bubbliness and excitement ready to burst through.

“Yes. There will be a Carlin race suit and boots in Mugello when you arrive, as well as a helmet and teamwear. You’ll have a personal assistant for the time you’re in Jehan’s seat, to keep up with the media and to navigate the paddock. I’ll have all of the relevant information forwarded to you tonight, and there will be a contract for you to sign upon your arrival in Italy.”

“Then I’ll see you there, sir. I best be on my way, I’ll need time to change back into my race suit before my heat is called in about half an hour. It was lovely to meet you, and I look forward to meeting and exceeding your expectations.” Sava concluded, standing up to give her new boss a handshake before she turned on her heels and practically sprinted out of the cafe. She speed walked back to the track and into the changing rooms before letting out the ear splitting squeal she had been holding in since she won her race forty five minutes ago.

It was easy enough to sort out her absence with her school, as there were no assessments due and Sava was already miles ahead of the rest of her peers, so her teachers had no qualms with letting their champion out to represent the country.

The issue however, was with her parents. Her father, a man she had been emancipated from for over a year, decided he would give her grief for throwing away her education to take someone’s spot for a few weeks before they would inevitably drop her once they realised how bad she was. Her mother wasn’t much better. As her legal guardian, she technically did have the right to stop her daughter from going into the F2 seat, but after a gruelling discussion and many threats from Sava to emancipate from her mother as well, she conceded.

So, on a very sunny, very early Thursday morning in September, Sava hopped onto a plane with an overnight bag to begin catching her dreams. Unfortunately, Sebastian had work during the week, but would be flying out to Italy on Friday night to watch his niece’s races on Saturday and Sunday. But, Sava arrived in Italy as bubbly and excitable as ever. Her pink hair was split into her iconic high pigtails, a white crop top, and pastel pink pleated skirt and trusted combat boots covered her form, black duffel bag thrown over her shoulder with some clothes for the weekend, and all of her travel documents. The PA standing with her name printed on a sign was very confused when a very small, very pink teenage girl bumbled over to her and said ‘Hi, I’m Sava. But everyone calls me Bunny’.

“I’m sorry, I expected someone a little more gritty.” The twenty-something woman spoke, her blonde hair in a high ponytail with a Carlin shirt and dark wash jeans. Sava guessed the PA expected someone who looked more like herself.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot. Most people don’t recognise me out of my race suit, so I definitely don’t expect someone who’s never seen me to anticipate my looks. What’s your name?” Sava’s Czech accent, combined with her hyperactivity meant she talked extremely fast, and often it was all nonsense, and she simply spoke for the sake of speaking. The PA took a few seconds to process the words Sava had spoken before finally replying with a simple ‘Amelia’. The two made it to the car that was waiting and travelled to the track in silence, Sava taking in the sights, and Amelia tapping away at her phone. When they got out, Amelia handed Sava a paddock pass, explaining the importance of it and demonstrating how to use it at the gates. They walked through to the Carlin garage, one half working away excitedly, while the other side seemed rather dead.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please? This is Sava Dvorakova, she’s our reserve driver for the rest of the season. Make her comfortable, and make sure she feels welcome!” Amelia yelled, very quickly causing silence to spread over the entire garage.

“Hi! I’m Sava, but most people call me Bunny, so feel free to do either! Or if you’d like, Dvorakova works just as well, but it’s a bit of a mouthful so I understand if you mispronounce it. I’ll also probably respond to ‘hey you’ so anything works. I’m really looking forward to working with you all and giving you some good results this weekend!” Sava giggled at the end, her fists clenched in front of her chest as she gave a small cheer with her hands and the entire garage remained silent for a few moments before breaking out into whispers, their eyes trailing over the teenager’s body. The anxiety in Sava’s belly bubbled, and she began playing with her hands until she was approached by a boy who was a little taller than her with a friendly smile on his face.

“Hi, I’m Yuki. I drive the other Carlin. It’s nice to meet you Bunny.” Yuki introduced with a smile and fist bump. He was unbelievably pleased to meet a driver who was smaller than him, though he supposed that her being a girl wouldn’t ease all of the teasing he got from other drivers on the grid. The two chatted about their background in racing, and Yuki gave Sava a few pointers on handling the car she was about to drive for the first time ever.

“Sava, I have all of your race gear to try on, and later on you’ll need to do a seat fitting as the mechanics are just going to modify one of Yuki’s seats since you two are similar height.” Amelia stated, breaking up the conversation between the two youngsters. Sava apologised to her new friend before practically skipping behind Amelia. She received a few weird looks from others in the paddock, including a few F1 drivers she recognised from TV and her Instagram feed. She wasn’t sure why they were in this paddock, but supposed a few of the younger guys had only recently come out of F2.

When she got into a Carlin motorhome, race overalls and her flame-retardant undersuit were thrust into her hands by Amelia, and then pointed toward a tiny bathroom within the motorhome while the PA continued scrolling through emails, updating social media, and answering calls. Sava pulled the suits on excitedly, and though it was a bit tight in the hips, thighs and chest, she thought it looked pretty damn good.

“So, I think this was definitely made for a guy with less boobs and smaller hips, but the fit is still really good.” Sava joked to Amelia when she stepped out, only to see Helmut Marko standing alongside her new assistant. She went red instantly, her shoulders tensing and sliding up toward her head.

“Yes, well, we can certainly fix that before the next race, but right now, I believe you’re needed for fittings in the garage, so throw on your helmet and get down there.” Helmut ordered. Sava quickly snatched up her balaclava and helmet, threading the two onto her arm as she began undoing the pigtails to braid them on her way back to the Carlin garage while Amelia and Helmut stayed behind to talk.

If Sava thought she was getting weird looks on her way to the motorhome, she was getting even weirder ones on the way back from it. From what she could tell, it seemed more like mechanics, engineers and other personnel from other teams and she couldn’t see any drivers she recognised before she slipped into the Carlin garage, one braid half finished, and her helmet banging against her head every time she moved her arm. Yuki laughed at her struggles, ambling over to thread the helmet and balaclava off her arm while she held the half finished braid precariously. Sava thanked him with a quick smile and continued braiding, her tongue occasionally poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. One she was finished, and the long braids were tucked into the back of her suit, she pulled on the balaclava and helmet in record speed, and then was ushered into the F2 car to begin the tedious process of trying and changing one of Yuki’s seats to suit her height and posture. 

After about an hour of fiddling, she was allowed to take the helmet off, and was beginning to doze off in the cockpit while a few of the employees debated different ways of measuring and fixing the seat nearby. Amelia came into the garage to find the new driver fully asleep in her car with everyone still talking around her. She took a photo and uploaded it to Carlin’s Instagram story, tagging the driver and writing a quick word about the reserve driver they hadn’t officially announced yet. She giggled slightly, and when two of the mechanics came back over to lift the seat out of the car, they accidentally lifted the driver out with it. Amelia took more photos of the seventeen year old comfortably in her race suit, curled in her seat while two mechanics held the entire ensemble up above the car.

Suffice to say, Carlin’s Instragram was flooded with adoring new fans, angered stans, and a few cheeky formula one drivers on private accounts. 

[megalony]

Teacher’s pet- Part 17

I haven’t written this series in a while but it feels so good to get back into it, thank you for all the lovely messages asking about this series, I hope you will all like this next part. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​  @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh​

Series taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @gwilymleeisbae​ @k-k0129​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @glittrixvibe @youngpastafanmug​ @ultraviolencezs​

Series masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) teaches at the school Ben’s boys go to and they soon start a relationship. But they have their ups and downs with the problems Ben faces with his boys and how quickly the relationship progresses.

Enjoy.

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"When daddy gets back, we go home?"

(Y/n) turned on her heels to look behind her when Finn's voice could just be heard over the radio. The four-year-old had been pottering around upstairs for a while but (Y/n) had started to focus more on the songs playing on the radio than the sound of her youngest boy hurrying about, unsure what he should do.

(Y/n)'s eyes glanced over to look at Gwilym before she headed over to where Finn was standing in the doorway, either too anxious or simply unsure about whether he should enter the room or not.

This was the family's fifth day in their new house but both Carter and Finn needed more time to get used to it. Carter didn't like change, it unsettled him and a new house meant getting used to a new room and different surroundings. The living room had a strange layout, he had to get used to the utensils in the kitchen being in different drawers, the dining room was different and so was the garden. (Y/n) and Ben were wallpapering and painting the house so every room was new and foreign and Carter didn't like it yet.

He got to choose what colour he wanted his room, where he wanted his bed and his tv and where he should have a shelf for his figurines and books. But it was figuring out the right place for everything that was unnerving Carter. He didn't know where the right place for everything was, he had to work it all out and have it looking perfect.

For the last four days Carter had scarcely come out of his room, mainly staying put to watch tv and rearrange everything. His room was the only one in the house so far that he was getting used to so it was the only room he wanted to stay in.

With Finn it was different.

He didn't mind that the house was being decorated or that things were in different places and it was new surroundings, he cared that it wasn't home. Finn had been too young to remember the first house he lived in with Ben and Lucy and his brothers but their old house was the one he had grown up in, it was a safe place for him and he had to feel safe. This new house was somewhere he would have to get used to and try and make it feel safe, he wanted to go back to their home, he didn't want to stay here.

Getting the house and moving into it had been done quickly but quietly, the boys were told they would be moving but Ben and (Y/n) had sorted everything and started moving things before telling the boys exactly what day they were moving to try and make it easier. They didn't overthink or panic about it because they didn't have much time to panic.

"Baby, I know you want to go back to the old house, but this is our new home, when it's all finished it will feel better I promise. Why don't you stay in here and help decorate with me and uncle Gwil?"

It had been a little easier for Finn to try and adjust because he was still sharing a room with James. Someone had to share a room and Carter needed to be on his own so he didn't lash out and the baby could hardly share with any of the boys because it wouldn't be fair. James and Finn were close and James didn't mind helping Finn when he was unsettled or panicked so it was the best option for them to share a room. Carter had one of the smaller rooms to himself, the boys shared a bigger room, (Y/n) and Ben had their room and then there was another small room that was for the baby.

Finn looked around the room as he stayed stood on the threshold like he was too afraid to actually take a step forward into the room. The boy's rooms had been decorated first to try and help the three of them settle in, now they were working on the baby's room before doing their own room and then working their way downstairs. It was going to take a while to get the whole house decorated the way they wanted it but at least if they got the bedrooms done it would be easier and more settling for the boys.

With Ben being called into work today due to being short staffed, Gwilym had offered to help with the decorating. The baby's room was being painted dark cherry blossom with one feature wall that had already been painted magnolia to give a bit more light into the room.

"No." Finn shook his head, staying put in the doorway. He wasn't too keen on painting, it seemed rather boring and very time consuming.

If James was still at home today then Finn would have been more settled, he could have watched tv or played games with him but James was with Ellie for the day since he hadn't seen her in over two months. And Finn knew better than to try and play with Carter when he was unsettled as it was.

"Why don't we take a break and get something to eat?" Gwilym spoke up, putting down the paint roller in his hand. They were about due a break by now and it might settle Finn if they watched some tv and had something to eat. "You go down and pick something out to eat and I'll come down in a minute."

They watched the youngest boy nod, looking a bit calmer as he turned and headed to the stairs and disappeared from sight.

"One more coat of paint and it should be done." (Y/n) spoke quietly as she rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead. With Gwilym being taller than (Y/n) it was easier for him to paint the top of the walls where (Y/n) couldn't reach, stretching up wasn't an option either with the weight of the baby. Both Ben and Gwilym had tried telling (Y/n) to take it easy but she wanted to paint because the quicker it got done the sooner they could get on with the rest of the house.

"I think another coat should do it, but I think you need a break. Me and Finn will make some dinner, you sit down."

Gwilym ran his hand through his hair, brushing the curls out of his eyes before he moved to put his glasses back on that had been stuffed into his pocket to prevent them from being coated in paint.

"I'm fine-"

"Ben said you didn't feel well this morning, you think I want the wrath of him if he finds out you've been overdoing it today? Sit down and rest, please."

Gwilym and (Y/n) had been friends since she started at the school and he and Ben had been friends for years, they were both close to Gwilym's heart. On the one hand he knew that (Y/n) would stop and rest when and if needed, she wouldn't push herself too far. Gwilym would never want to try and control her or tell her what to do. But on the other hand he knew that sometimes she would push through phases of feeling unwell or under the weather and he knew how protective Ben was about his family. Gwilym wouldn't want to be around if Ben got annoyed that (Y/n) hadn't taken it easy like she should.

"Hmm, fine." (Y/n) narrowed her eyes playfully with a tired but playful smile as she took a few steps over to sit down on the rocking chair in the corner that was draped with an old paint-stained sheet.

(Y/n) wouldn't admit it but it did feel better to sit down and rest for a bit, stretching up to paint the walls or bending down to get the bottom near the skirting boards was tiresome. And she couldn't allow herself to stop until the first coat of paint was done or it would dry funny and patchy and that would grate on her nerves.

Her eyes followed Gwilym as he raised a brow at her before he made his way out of the room, leaving her to sit and listen to the radio which she had forgotten was still playing in the background. She leaned her head back until the wooden back of the chair was resting lightly against the base of her neck to support her head. Her eyes fell closed to try and relieve the headache slowly beginning to form behind her eyes and she slowly shifted her weight from her heels to her toes to slowly rock the chair.

All morning (Y/n) had felt her headache come and go like it was testing her, visiting her to see how she would react to the intrusion and it didn't help matters how much the baby was shifting like she couldn't seem to get comfy.

A sigh passed through (Y/n)'s lips before she pushed herself to stand up, wondering if having a drink might take away her headache in case she was starting to get dehydrated. Weaving around the pots of paint and rollering boards, (Y/n) moved to get her drink that rested on the windowsil next to the radio. The room was starting to look more homely now that the first coat of paint was finished and (Y/n) knew once they'd got some pictures put on the walls and everything in its place, the room would look much better.

The one thing that (Y/n) didn't like about moving was how impatient she became. She wanted to paint and decorate the whole place in one day, she wanted to put up pictures and place books on shelves and make it feel like home. Downstairs wasn't even started yet so there was no way (Y/n) could start putting up pictures yet which made her agitated and impatient.

There were three canvas pictures that (Y/n) was desperate to put up in the living room, they were of Ben and the boys and all four of them were smiling and laughing in the pictures and they were something that would make it feel more like home for them all.

(Y/n) also knew that once their girl was born, she wanted to get a canvas picture of her and have it on the wall above the cot.

Putting the glass back down, (Y/n) took a moment to look out the window which showed the drive and front garden. Her hand moved to rest on her lower stomach when she could feel the baby shifting again proving that she simply couldn't get comfy today which in turn made (Y/n) uncomfy.

Her eyes focused on the light grey carpet she knew they needed to change and her feet slowly padded around the paint, not wanting to spill any since they had gone ahead and painted without any sheets being put down on the floor to protect the old carpet. But her free hand quickly reached out for the cot resting unused on her left when she could feel the room starting to spin.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) tried to breathe deeply and see if it would take away the feeling that was as if a fog was clouding her mind and stirring trouble behind her eyes. She slowly shuffled her feet to try and get to the rocking chair, knowing it would be better to sit down than to keep standing and let the blood drain from her head.

(Y/n) didn't know what her foot got caught on, she didn't see what snagged at the toe of her slipper but whatever it was made her toes bend completely under her foot which felt like it snapped in half as it folded over itself. The top of her foot scraped against the carpet as the bones clicked either into or out of place before her body was suddenly tumbling forward off balance.

There was nothing around that she could use to steady herself and her eyes immediately snapped closed from both the pain and shock and from instinct when she started to fall. Some sort of gasp or even a screech instinctively left her lips before it felt like everything was turned off.

She could hear the static in her ears like the radio had lost its signal but turned its sound up to the max. Her eyes were tightly closed to the point they were stinging but it took (Y/n) a moment to realise she was no longer falling.

She knew for certain that she was motionless now and she was no longer flying forwards through the air, but she didn't remember stopping.

Opening her eyes was a struggle, they felt like they were weighed down like coins were pressed down on her eyelids to prevent her from seeing something. And the rest of her body felt heavy and was trembling like she was feeling the after effects of an electric shock. She could see the painting tray a few feet in front of her and the curved foot of the rocking chair was next to her. Everything felt numb and heavy but (Y/n) forced her arms to move so that she could shakily grab the seat of the rocking chair, she needed to pull herself up from the awkward way she was laying. She had to get up and check herself over to make sure she was okay, she couldn't lay here like this.

"Mum, did you knock something over again?" Carter's voice barely reached (Y/n)'s ears that still felt like they were full of static.

The eldest boy walked out of his room and up the three small steps that led to the upper two rooms. He leaned his head around the room on the right before moving towards the nursery room since he knew they had been painting that room this morning. But Carter froze in his tracks, his eyes blown wide with confusion and fear when he looked at (Y/n).

She was on her knees in front of the rocking chair which her arms were heavily resting on and she was trembling. It looked as if she was going to be sick or even faint and Carter could see that her eyes weren't seeing everything properly like her vision was blurring.

"Mum?" There was a lot of concern in Carter's voice but his expression was rather neutral. He didn't seem able to express any emotion but anger in his face and right now he looked unfazed but sounded scared and was stunned and unmoving.

(Y/n) wanted to talk, she wanted to try and tell Carter she just felt dizzy and had tripped. She wanted to calm him down and reassure him she was fine, but the only thing she could do was close her eyes and let her head fall onto her arms that were resting on the chair. Her throat was constricting and her head couldn't formulate a sentence or allow her to even move any more than this.

Carter's brows sank down until they were almost resting in his eyes as he pressed his lips together tightly. What was she doing? He could feel a bout of anger burning through him because she wasn't telling him what she was doing, she was kneeling like she was praying but she looked ill. Curling his hands into fists, Carter huffed his next breath before he turned on his heels and jumped down the three steps to get onto the hallway. He took long strides and rounded the corner to the right before he stormed down the stairs and swung round the bottom of the bannister.

He skidded a few times when running through the hall to reach the kitchen where he could hear Gwilym and Finn chatting away.

"Uncle Gwil, mum's sat on the floor and she won't talk to me. It sounded like she kicked something but she won't move."

A frown etched onto Gwilym's features and his eyes narrowed at Carter behind his glasses. It was always necessary to take Carter's words with a pinch of salt, especially when he tried to explain something because he could never say what he meant or explain what he had seen. He sounded cryptic a lot of the time like he did right now and he looked angry as if (Y/n) was purposely ignoring him which Gwilym knew she wouldn't do.

"Um, right... Finn why don't you sit and eat at the table? I'll go talk to your mum."

Gwilym didn't know what was going on but he knew he didn't like the sound of it, there was a bad feeling in his gut telling him that this wasn't going to be good. He headed over to Carter, resting a hand on his shoulder before he bypassed him and made his way upstairs to go and see (Y/n).

The moment Gwilym reached the nursery his body recoiled in shock and his lips parted but no words came out. He moved like he'd been pushed into the room, stumbling forward but catching himself before he moved to bend down on his knees beside (Y/n) who felt more awake than she did moments ago. He cautiously moved his arm to wrap around (Y/n)'s upper back and placed his other hand on her arm, trying to coax her to look at him and tell him what the problem was.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" He sat back on his legs and leaned up a bit straighter when (Y/n) slowly straightened up and moved so she was no longer resting her head on the chair.

"I- I tripped a-and fell..."

When her eyes locked with Gwilym's it was like he was trying to have a silent conversation with her because he knew Carter was stood in the doorway, but (Y/n) couldn't work out what he was trying to say.

"Let's sit you down and make sure you're okay." Gwilym took it as a good sign that she wasn't sobbing in pain or cradling a part of herself that was hurt but he still didn't like how she seemed like her mind was somewhere else. She looked drowsy which told him she had blacked out or fainted even if it was only for a few seconds. He knew that look well, he had experienced it a few times in his life.

Moving his arms, Gwilym made sure they were securely around (Y/n)'s waist as she slowly moved her trembling arms until her hands were holding Gwilym's upper arms. She nodded and closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to plant her feet properly on the floor so she could stand up. Gwilym took most of her weight to help stand her up but he froze in place when a moan left (Y/n)'s lips and her head fell forward into his chest.

"Does something hurt?"

"N-no... oh no..." (Y/n) breathed through her words before it sounded like she was choking on a sob. Her words sparked worry in Gwilym and he shifted her in his arms so he was holding her against his chest, not wanting to risk her falling to her knees and hurting herself again. But he could feel himself starting to shake when he saw that (Y/n) had moved her hand to press to her stomach.

She didn't?

"Gwil i-it- oh, it hurts."

She'd fallen and hit her stomach on something. She could have hurt the baby, the pain might be something to do with the baby.

"Okay, (Y/n) listen to me it's okay, let's get you sat down and then we'll take things from there. You could have just grazed yourself, it might be nothing." She may have just caught her stomach on something very lightly, it might just be something that would bruise and cause no problems so there might not be a reason to panic yet. If they got her sat down and calmed down, they could see if the pain got worse and then take things from there, probably go and get her seen by a doctor just to make sure.

When he felt (Y/n) nod against his chest, Gwilym took a deep breath before slowly shuffling (Y/n) back and carefully setting her down in the chair she had been leaning up against moments ago.

"Carter, why don't you go-"

"No! I wanna stay with mum." Carter took a few steps into the room to show that he didn't want to leave in case (Y/n) wasn't well but at the same time, he didn't want to get too close in case she didn't want him to be here. She might be like Ben and wouldn't want Carter to see her in pain, he didn't want to go but he didn't want to upset (Y/n) either.

"Why don't you go and check on Finn and then bring me my phone so I can call your dad, let him know what's happened?"

Carter debated Gwilym's words, wanting to stay desperately but he also wanted Ben to come home. Ben always said that he took care of everything and that he looked after them all, if (Y/n) wasn't well then she needed Ben here so he could look after her. He pursed his lips before he nodded and turned to hurry downstairs, the thought of Ben pressing on his mind more and more.

"Can I take a look?" Gwilym crouched down beside (Y/n) before he motioned to her stomach, not wanting to touch her or try and check her over if she was in too much pain or felt too uncomfortable.

When (Y/n) nodded through gritted teeth, Gwilym slowly moved her shirt up so he could see her stomach. He pressed his lips together into a thin line as his nails dug into the palms of his hands so he could trya nd remain calm. The left side of her stomach was starting to mix red and white in an odd but large shape. If he had to guess, Gwilym was rather sure that she had fallen hard and smacked her stomach straight into something. There was no graze and no cut but she was bleeding under the surface of her skin, but there was no way for him to see if it had done any damage to the baby except for the pain that seemed to be getting worse.

"I think we should get you checked out, just to be safe."

(Y/n) didn't have the will or the nerve to argue because the pain was getting worse and when the baby moved it only made the pain increase and an uncomfortable feeling start to arise. It felt like her side and her lower stomach were on fire and the fire was slowly starting to spread and get worse. It was overpowering the pain in her foot which was throbbing from how awkwardly it had bent when she fell.

"Finn's watching tv, can we call dad now?" Carter's sudden interruption made them both jump before Gwilym nodded and reached his hand out for the phone in Carter's grip.

"Yeah, I'll call him now but I need to stay up here with your mum while we sort a few things so can you go and stay with Finn please? If he comes up here and sees your mum's hurt he'll get scared and we don't want that."

If they were going to take (Y/n) to hospital then they needed to sort out the boys. James would be coming home later this afternoon and none of the boys could be here on their own. If Ben couldn't come home from work then Gwilym needed to take (Y/n) to get checked out and taking the boys with them wouldn't be the best idea. Gwilym didn't want Finn finding out just yet because he would get unsettled and frightened and he also didn't want Carter listening to him talking to Ben because that would unsettle him too.

Gwilym pushed himself to his feet, trying to smile at Carter to calm him down before the eldest left the room, slamming the door behind him to show he wasn't happy about being told to leave.

Anxiety started to dwell up in the pit of Gwilym's stomach, he'd never had to call Ben before when he was at work. (Y/n) had only done that once and that was a few weeks ago when he had to come straight from work to the school to talk to Carter. Gwilym had no idea if Ben would actually answer or if he would be too busy and if he didn't answer then they would have to find someone to look after the boys so Gwilym could take (Y/n) to get checked over.

If that happened then Ben would be a nervous wreck when they got through to him and said they were at or had been to the hospital.

A sigh of relief left Gwilym's lips when he heard Ben's voice on the other end of the line, he had answered.

"Hey mate... look, I know you're at work but something's come up... no, the boys are fine, um, (Y/n)'s had a fall... well I think-"

Gwilym stuttered through his words, trying to stay calm and not overpanic Ben because they didn't know if something was drastically wrong yet or not. But he stopped himself short when (Y/n) made a noise that sounded like she was stuck between crying and wanting to scream. When he looked at her, she was doubled over in the chair to the point she was surely going to fall off and land on her knees. Her right hand was pressed tightly against her stomach and her other hand was gripping the arm of the chair, her chin tucked tightly into her chest.

He tried to follow her line of sight, pulling the phone away from his ear so Ben's concerned words didn't deafen him. But when Gwilym tried to see what was wrong and he looked to where (Y/n) was looking, a shiver ran down his spine and he jumped when (Y/n) started to sob.

"Ben, I think (Y/n)'s water just broke."

[greycappedjester]

If it’s ok, could we get a small clip of the next chapter?

Sure!....which story?

Um, here’s one for all of them. It’s long (very, very long) so I’m putting it under “Read More”

(All story segments are not fully edited and may change)

Tooru Oikawa and the Triwizard Tournament

Yamaguchi squinted towards the other side of the Great Hall. “So have they….made up now?”

A few tables down, Kageyama and Hinata seemed to be in the middle of a very loud and very spirited argument on whether condiments could ever count as side dishes. Grievous insults to intelligence had been made and threats of murder were likewise issued.

“I think so.” Ennoshita didn’t sound confident.

Hinata attempted to tackle Kageyama off of his bench.

“But, they’re still not playing together for Quidditch,” Yamaguchi confirmed

Kageyama shoved an apple in Hinata’s face.

Asahi watched wide-eyed. “They said they couldn’t yet.”

A resulting debate over the term 'breakfast fruit’ emerged. It was somehow even more heated.

“But, they’re not fighting?” Yamaguchi had to confirm.

“Suga says they aren’t,” Daichi said.

They had now decided to share the apple. Yachi beamed from beside them. Lev booed.

Yamaguchi decided there and then. “I’m never going to understand their relationship.”

“They’re idiots,’ Tsukishima concluded.

And, thus, the most watched and highly contentious fight of the entire school year--Tournament included--finally came to its baffling end.

--------

After the Fall of Olympus

(Sorry, it’s a depressing one--partly because I can’t take out much from the chapter without giving away a really major spoiler that’s revealed in the first scene)

Dick and Donna have this thing they do. 

It started maybe three years after the invasion, before Kory’s ship landed, and when everything was still raw but finally slowly trying to get better. 

They’d been in the tower alone, both on monitor duty, when Donna had turned to him and out of the blue asked, “Dick, tell me about Wally West?”

“What,” Dick had asked, too surprised even to feel the pain that sharply.

“You and Roy mention him every now and then. He was your best friend, right? I want to know more about him.”

Dick had just stared. Stared until Donna had admitted in a too quiet voice. “I’m tired of not being able to talk about them.”

So Dick had talked. At the start, it wasn’t even about anything important. Just about what a huge chemistry nerd Wally was. How he flirted with girls non-stop. The time he’d tried to phase through a wall and got half way through before panicking. And then, slowly, Dick moved on to important things. When Dick first told him his secret identity. How Wally had wanted to grow up to be just like his uncle. What Dick had felt when he saw his body.

Donna talked, too. About her sister. About growing up with Diana, about the numb shock watching her death on the news, about wondering if her sister would be proud of her and the a million and one times she was scared of living up to the reputation.

It became a routine. Not every day. Not even every few months. But, now and again, one of them would seek the other out and Donna would talk about Diana or some of her other Amazonian teachers lost in the invasion and Dick would talk about Wally and M’gann and Artemis and Connor and Kaldur and….and Bruce. One time, Dick even talked about Superman.

They talked and the pain didn’t go away--not fully, not ever--but eased until they felt like they could breathe again, until they could remember a past that was colored by more than just the pain of their deaths.

-------

Walking With My Eyes Open

Gen wasn’t a kind man; he was pragmatic.  And he’d long decided he’d do absolutely anything, sink to any kind of low, be however ruthless he needed if it meant saving Senkuu’s life. 

So….

Decisions, decisions.

He shredded a petal under his nails and tossed it down.

“Gen?” A blonde head popped up beside him. “What are you doing?”

He smiled, making sure it was a soft one despite his mood. Because he absolutely believed in playing favorites and when it came to the village--to his entire life, actually--it wasn’t hard to guess the people that rested on top.

Suika smiled back, a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining through the shadows of her mask. Then, she tilted her head and lowered her voice. “Are you hiding from work?”

Gen laughed, pressing a finger to his lips. “Maybe a bit. Don’t tell on me, okay?” He winked. “Besides, I was considering some options. Thinking counts as work, too, doesn’t it?”

Suika nodded, glancing down at the growing pile of mangled petals then to the daisy Gen was still steadily demolishing. “And the flowers are helping you think?”

Actually, Gen had just been feeling murderous towards flowers lately. Call it enacting justice vicariously.

“Not particularly.” He picked up another flower from beside him and instead of shredding it, started to fold. “You’re right. I think there’s a better use for these.”

A few more quick movements and he wove a flower bracelet, just small enough to slip over Suika’s wrist. 

Her grin brightened, looking at it like it was the next great marvel--so, at least Gen had accomplished one thing today.

“It’s so pretty,” Suika said, looking up to see it closer. “And the flowers are so close together. Can you teach me?”

“Sure, once we get some more flowers.” He picked up the last one, winding his fingers around the stem. “You know, now that you mention it. There is an old game about flowers and decisions. Want to hear it?”

Suika sat patiently in front of him, eyes fixed on the daisy because of course, she wanted to learn. What other village could this be?

“It’s very simple.” Gen counted off with one hand, flower in the other. “Two phrases, you pick a petal on each and the one you land on is your answer.” Gen picked a petal. “He loves me.” Another petal. “He loves me not….” 

Suika gave a small gasp. “Flowers can tell you if someone’s in love?”

Gen didn’t laugh because he knew it would be bitter.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s just a game. Back before--ah, before even me and Senkuu, that is--ladies would play it to see if their beloved would ever return their affections. It’s silly.”

“So…,” Suika thought a bit, “it’s like a wish, then?”

“I think I’m using it more as a hex,” Gen muttered as he got to the last petal and glared.

He loves me.

Well, fuck. 

Gen supposed that’s what he deserved for trusting flowers.

He gave his largest, most theatrical sigh for Suika’s sake. “Ahhh, Suika-chan, look at that! It seems like I lost. More’s the pity for me!”

Suika grinned up at him, hopping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his hips. “It’s okay! I still love you.”

Gen patted her head, smiling despite himself.

“Maybe you were using the wrong flower,” Suika told him.

“Could be.”

“I’ll go get more,” Suika promised. “Then, you can find one that’ll work.”

“More flowers is a good idea,” Gen agreed. “But, I think I’m tired of this game. Why don’t I teach you how to make the best flower crowns in the entire stone world? Then, we’ll both have to be the most beloved people in the whole village, won’t we?”

Immediately, Suika ran off to the woods and Gen watched her go.

At least, flowers could do good somewhere. 

He looked down at the mangled flowers. A daisy, purity and innocence.

With a shift of his heel, he ground them a little further into the ground..

Flowers were an awfully pointless thing to blame; but, Gen was petty and they were easier than the alternative.

Still. He taught Suika how to make flower crowns and when she pressed one last bloom into his hand, so excited to find the last one of the season, he took it like his heart hadn’t plunged to his feet.

It was hard to look at black nightshade and forget it was a poison.

-------

Call Me Your Home At Night

(Note: very, very subject to edit. Part of the reason this one has taken awhile is rewrites while I work on tone)

Atsumu was shouting--voice tinny over the phone speakers--and Hinata’s blender was doing its best impressions of death throes while Hinata frantically tried to keep both the chord at the one angle it worked and hold the blender’s lid down so the entire kitchen didn’t end up coated in a weird grey mix of protein shake and bananas. Again. For the fifth time. 

In other words, it was a normal morning. 

From the part of his mind that noticed these things, Hinata thought it was kinda funny that Atsumu had learned to time his complaining to coordinate with the aggressive disaster that was Hinata’s morning routine.

Like the world’s weirdest symphony, the opposite of harmonizing. A disharmony! That was it!

“Seriously, what the fuck is a ward court and how is it different than a family court? Why do we even need two courts for divorce? Huh? Why not just shove a paper at us and have it done!” Atsumu’s voice got increasingly petulant. “Shouyou, it’s like the entire country is trying to keep good, decent people married! Why does it hate us?”

It was a close call; but, in a competition between one aggravated setter on speaker phone and the relentless whirring of the cheapest blender Hinata could find on the internet, Atsumu still managed to fight his way through.

Hinata gave the phone a sympathetic look even if he knew Atsumu couldn’t see it. He turned off the defeated foe and mentally crowned Atsumu the winner of Disharmony 2016: Blender vs. Atsumu edition. Not that he had much doubt. 

“Find anything you like with grounds for divorce?”

Atsumu grumbled which meant no.

Then, Atsumu huffed which meant no and the world wasn’t fair!

So, apparently, divorce was harder than it looked. Actually, a lot of things about this “being married” thing were more complicated than they thought and, in the month since they’d been technically married, Hinata had frequently and strongly fantasized about grabbing his past self by the shoulders and shaking him while screaming ‘WHY?!’ right at his face.

Like taxes!

Who knew how to do taxes? Who knew that taxes were apparently due this month? Including married people taxes which apparently were more complicated and had things like joint filing or separate and dependants and a bunch of other words that Hinata still didn’t understand completely. It wasn’t like he could ask his Mom for help after everything or even beg Yachi or Kenma like usual because that would bring up the whole marriage thing and, ugh, no, no, no, no.

Hinata was pretty sure he and Atsumu had figured it out. Enough, at least. Getting arrested for tax evasion seemed like something that only happened on the news so it was probably fine.

Uh, so, yeah, between the whole moving to Brazil thing and figuring out stuff like rent and utilities and meeting the indoor volleyball team he’d be working with plus some of the beach volleyball players and trying to get his new roommate Pedro to talk to him about things other than laundry and groceries and trying to remember the difference between bolo and bola and finding a job and Atsumu dealing with MSBY promotion stuff and interviews and getting ready for pro-volleyball next season and then them both having to deal with stuff like taxes and still being weirded out about all the accidental wedding stuff in general, they…..well, they hadn’t gotten much done about the whole divorce thing.

Okay, more like they’d gotten exactly one thing done and that was figuring out a time to freak out about all the things they hadn’t gotten done. The good news was that the exactly twelve hour time difference was sorta perfect since it meant Hinata got back from his morning jog about the same time Atsumu came home for dinner, which meant that quickly became their agreed time to call with updates.

….which usually tailed off into both of them talking about volleyball instead because volleyball was a whole lot more fun.

Hinata very carefully pushed aside the resulting mental montage of sand scraping along his arms on a missed receive and feet sinking into the ground and landing face first in burning sand that was happening way more than he’d expected.

Hinata shook his head, scraping the not-very-blended protein shake out of his blender. “I’ll try to look some stuff up this afternoon.”

“Isn’t your laptop still being screwy?”

“...Maybe.” It was more like Hinata’s ancient laptop had given a sudden death kneel--complete with hisses and the screen flashing--and Hinata was sorta scared he’d get electrocuted if he even touched it. “I’ll use my phone.”

“I could just buy you a laptop, you know,” Atsumu muttered. It wasn’t the first time; Hinata even knew his next line.

Hinata grinned. “That’s really sweet, Atsumu. Absolutely not, you’re already doing enough of the research anyway.”

“Shut up,” Atsumu grumbled. “I am not sweet, this is a trade. Your laptop’s a piece of crap, like actually the worst and I--like any normal human being--am doing my part in putting it out of its misery. Basic compassion right here.”

“But, I don’t need a new laptop,” Hinata insisted like he always did. “I’ve got my phone. That’ll work until I get a job.”

Which he was totally going to get. Soon, too. It was just a little harder than he thought when he didn’t really have a great grip on the language yet.

“Hinata, I’m begging you as a friend here, please don’t resort to selling your organs on the black market.”

Hinata rolled his eyes. “I would never do that. I need them for volleyball.”

“Is that seriously the only reason?”

“Think about how long surgery recovery would take,” Hinata teased. “I only have two years here.”

“I worry about you. Like fundamentally.”

Hinata tilted his head. “But what if I could get like super organs instead.”

“Like Terminator?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I read a manga where that happened once.” He paused. “Oh my gosh, Atsumu, imagine how amazing volleyball would be with superpowers!”

“There’s no way the V.League would approve that.” Atsumu breathed in. “But, what if…”

“I’d get super speed,” Hinata broke in excitedly, “or maybe flying. Oh, or super strength! Imagine hitting a spike with super strength!”

“Awesome!” Atsumu’s voice was speeding up. “What if I had one of those specialty powers like super precision or something! It could get around so many blockers; Suna would be so pissed off! I could set the ball anywhere!”

Hinata huffed. “You already do that.”

Atsumu broke off, sounding pleased. “Really?”

“Of course,” Hinata said. “Hey, wait, how was practice? You got to meet the new libero, right?”

“Yeah, Inunaki--he’s pretty cool. He was mainly working with--” Atsumu cut off, “Fuck, Shou, I gotta tell you about this thing Barnes and I did!”

Atsumu started rambling--words choppy and quick as he got deeper into the retelling of practice in a way that had Hinata hanging off every word. In an abstract sense, Hinata knew that he himself was a people person; he’d always been good at making friends and deeply appreciated every single one he was able to hang onto.

He’d never had a friend like Atsumu.

-------

Shuffling the Deck

(Since it’s late, have an entire opening scene)

ooooooo- 30 Years Prior -ooooooo

Once there was a girl who grew up with her grandmother in a barely patched house, closed in by cliffs.

She was a quiet girl, a pretty face and delicate hands always kept clean despite the threadbare clothes that hung more like rags. The girl did not like to play with the other children which was fitting as they didn’t much like to play with her either.

Instead, she liked to read.

And, more than that, she liked to watch the garden.

Which is what she chose to do, one day at eight years old on the same morning a prominent merchant staggered in to see her grandmother--a terrible illness spreading through his veins and blood in his cough.

The girl was fine with blood but didn’t care for coughing so she stayed exactly where she was, laying on her stomach with head propped in hands while she took in the delicate threads of a spider web.

She always thought the webs were the prettiest part of the garden. They were so very thin and frail that one could barely notice them until they got up close. And, then, once they saw them, they could see the patterns and shapes so carefully woven as if by an artisan.

Sometimes, she even saw the spider. 

Sometimes, she tried to get it to crawl to her hand.

 It never did though. No matter what she did. The spider was too cautious, too scared of what it believed had power over it.

That was how spiders worked, really. They spun their masterpieces with so much care and precision and, then, they waited patiently for the art to be observed.

The girl was not the only one who found the spider web this morning.

A fly had come across the threads first--likely by accident but the girl liked to imagine that it was the beauty that had drawn the fly in the same as it had done her.

She wondered if the fly still appreciated the art of the web.

It was still alive.

She watched it struggle. Its wings beat uselessly, its many legs trapped in the delicate threads, and a buzzing cry sounding so frantic for such a small creature.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

But, that would mean tearing down the gorgeous web that she adored.

But, that would mean the spider may starve and there would be no new web tomorrow.

And, besides, why did she care about dirtying her hands for the sake of a dying fly.

The door of the cottage opened and the girl glanced up idly.

The merchant was stumbling out, gratitude and lavish promises on his breath and a healthy glow back in his cheeks. Her grandmother was smiling kindly, accepting the praise yet turning down the offers same as she always did until eventually the merchant went away.

The girl looked back to the web.

The fly was dead, quickly being wrapped up by the spider to save for later.

She turned back to her grandmother. “He was rich, you know? I heard the other kids talking about him in town. His shipping business goes all the way up to the wealthy islands in the north. If you let him do even half the things he offered, we could live in a mansion and you wouldn’t have to hurt your fingers so much mending clothes.” The tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious. “Why did you say no?”

“Oh, my dear,” Her grandmother leaned down to kiss her hair and the girl allowed it, “because our powers are a gift. They’re not meant to be hoarded and offered for a price. They’re meant to be shared. Besides,” the woman sighed as she watched the road, “what kind of price would that be? Who would I be to demand it? Those who are desperate--for their lives, for those they love--would pay anything. They’d do anything. Who could ever put a price on such a weight? It’s beyond human measure.” 

She smiled down at her granddaughter. “Do you understand, my darling Mimi?”

Maemi frowned before nodding, looking down at the spider web. 

“Yes, I understand.”

There was no way to know what would have happened if the old woman took up the merchant’s offer. Likely she never would have. She was not that type of person. All that there was to know is that the grandmother and the little girl remained at the patched up cottage, just like they had the girl’s whole life and her grandmother’s life before hers.

They were there six months later when the oceans swelled and brought the waves into shore. 

They were not both there after.

Six months later, a man and a girl waded through water as they searched a broken down cottage for survivors.

Well, the man searched at least.

The girl had stopped beside a tree, tall and strong enough to survive a tsunami.

On the bottom branch, at the lowest hanging twig, was a spider’s web just barely managing not to be swept into the water.

The spider was still alive.

But, it wouldn’t be for long.

It struggled, trying to climb up faster even as the bottom of its beautiful web was destroyed by the current.

For a moment, she debated on saving it.

She could, of course.

So, she did.

She snapped a twig from another branch and held it out for the spider to crawl, too. It did willingly, anything to avoid the water below.

It had never crawled to her hand before.

Not like it did now when it was desperate for life.

Maemi watched her dear spider crawl into her open hand.

And, then, she plunged her hand into the water and watched her dear spider drown.

“Yes, grandmother, I understand completely.”

[southslates]

Sorry I accidentally posted this as a note instead! I absolutely love your work! How about Zutara + “Betty” from folklore!

“I'm only seventeen I don't know anything”

i.

Katara stands in front of him. And then she blinks; and then she keeps staring. Zuko's features look utterly, completely, unreservedly terrified. He looks like he is about to fall apart, right then, as she takes him in.

He has tracked her and Aang across the entire world, and she does not know what he is doing here, but she feels, for some reason, guilty. Her heart beats against her chest wildly.

She should go tell the others about this. She lifts her foot up, and the prince looks like she has just started stomping on all of his hopes and dreams. She knows that gaze, marred as it is, all too well.

So she steps forward, feet pounding the pavement until she is truly right in front of him. Her voice wavers.

"I'd like some tea, please."

ii.

The girl keeps coming back to the teahouse. He wants her to leave. She is just a reminder of his past and she holds so much power over him. He doesn't like that. He wants her to leave.

On her fifth day she reaches a hand out and grabs his arm. She has been wearing this strange facade, acting absolutely nonchalant, and his fingers flex as his mind readies him for a fight. But her grasp is light and she lets go when he turns around.

"You owe me an explanation," she says.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he shudders out.

"I know." Her cool eyes are blue but they bear fiery holes into him. She gestures towards the kitchen, where Iroh is watching this strange conversation. "I still want to know."

iii.

He shudders when he's near her, and she finds that strange. But some part of her feels at peace when she flops up onto the kitchen table. He had moved away when she had come close to him -

She wonders, briefly, who has ever touched him; the ugly skin across his face looks like a hand mark.

"You're not trying to capture us."

It's a statement, and he doesn't respond. Iroh exits the door and slams it shut behind him until it is the two of them, just them, facing each other amongst roaring teapots.

"No."

"Why?"

"This - this is fine."

"That's not what I - why did you want to capture us, in the first place?"

His left eye is slanted and his lips curl down. She doesn't think she has ever seen him smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now. You should leave."

"I don't want to."

"Look, waterbender -"

"My name is Katara," she lilts, so curious; he glares further.

"Look, Katara. Let me go. I don't want to cause any trouble."

She slides off the table and heads to the backdoor, pausing to give him one last long look. It seems searching. "It's my turn, Prince Zuko."

iv.

"Moonpeach bun today," she requests, and he doesn't say anything to that, just stands there with his brow tilted quizzically. She looks up a moment later. "What? I'm hungry."

She has never bought food here, before; something is changing, but the metal clamp over his heart almost releases itself.

"Okay," he says.

"Okay," she replies.

v.

One day she comes in and he is not here. She knows his schedule, the patterns; she walks up to the desk and asks the old man there what has happened. He seems to note her interest with a quirk of his lips.

"Lee is sick," he tells her. "He isn't here today."

She has seen this boy in both poles, has frozen him intimately. It's strange to think that the warrior who kept fighting with his eyes bruised and body aching would succumb to the ills of the flesh. "Where is he?"

"Should I trust you, Master Katara?"

"You know -"

"I know a lot of things. And I care for my nephew," he frowns, but she feels validated. "Come back."

vi.

"How did you manage to get an infection here?" a voice sounds from above him, and he winces in pain at its high note. That does not sound like Uncle.

"W--what?"

His right eye blearily opens and he wants to jump away when he's faced with that deep, startling blue. Katara does not seem angry over him. Now that he is alert his nerves are tingling, and he looks down to see her hands on his bare chest. Color rises to his cheek, but she seems unaffected.

"You seem to enjoy hurting yourself," she says almost teasingly, but she does not even know half the truth. Zuko is not good at taking care of himself, and he had left this wound to fester. He does not always mind being Lee, but sometimes he feels that this life will never be enough.

Now, he is slightly lucid. "Why are you here?"

Her hands glow, clinically, on his chest. "I'm healing you."

"Why?"

Her features, gorgeous in the night's light, dim. "That doesn't matter."

vii.

He is different, now. He is calmer at a surface level, but she sees a fire that lives within; his blood feels like it is boiling.

She's curious about what lies further; she knows she should not be.

viii.

"That girl knows we're firebenders," he whispers, and Uncle turns.

"Of course Master Katara knows the truth. What is the problem?"

"I wasn't talking about her -" But she's here, still, and she walks right up to him at the counter. It has been different, after the day she showed up to his apartment. It has been something tentative, something like friendship.

"Hi," she says breathlessly, and he can't help himself.

"Hi."

They stare at each other before Iroh's sharp whistle draws them out of this; a brown head turns and leaves the shop in the distance.

ix.

There is some sort of festival in the streets, and she avoids dancing performers to wander into an almost empty shop. Pao is not there, so she steps into the kitchen freely; neither men inside are surprised to see her there.

"What's going on?" she asks. Zuko reaches next to him and places a steaming cup of tea in her hands. He is not wearing his apron right now; he looks different. He looks less broad and more defined, and she likes looking at him. She does.

"The Celebration of the Lotus Sky," Iroh says cheerfully. "A nice parade, no? You should be out there, Master Katara." Something lies unspoken; where is the Avatar? Aang would love this, but he is busy with Toph. She frowns thinking about it and almost drops the cup. Zuko places his hand right in front of her, and she smiles at him.

A strange sort of hope is blooming in her chest. "It sounds fun."

Zuko looks like he is struggling with something for a moment. Iroh takes that time to leave. But then he looks at her, golden eyes looking strangely innocent, and speaks. "Yeah, it does."

x.

Something comes together under that sky; lanterns float by them, and she gets him to actually speak once they find a vendor selling Fire Nation cuisine.

She pays for him, and he does not know how to feel about that. He is distracted as they walk through the streets, as she seems young and jubilant. Here, she is just Katara. Not a master, not calculated; she is just here. She is not playing games with him.

It feels nice, because everyone plays games with him.

She pulls him to a fountain after they've exhausted the path, and his cheeks are hurting with laughter for the first time since . . . since his mother had died. She had tried to make him dance and accepted his shake of a head; she had laughed over noodles with him, had made funny faces in mirrors until his smile moved. She had tried, and that makes all the difference.

The sconces are unlit, and she looks at them wistfully. He wishes he could light them, but he cannot risk that, and that leaves him disappointed in himself.

And then Katara leans herself up against his shoulder, and he feels like he could burn down this entire city with the fire that rages within him.

He does not know if there is something here. He almost wishes that there was.

xi.

Nothing good ever lasts. She feels like she had something fragile, like she is about to break it here, sitting on the floor of the Crystal Catacombs.

"That's something we have in common," he says, and she cannot resist walking over to him. She places her hand on his scar, and he does not look scared when her thumb skims his lip. He does not look resigned. He looks peaceful.

Then something breaks and she turns away, and he sees the Avatar, and his heart stops beating.

xii.

She sees him look at her, at his sister. Isn't the choice obvious? She is right here. They have created something here, carved it out in the tea house. She is right here. But Aang is also right here, and she does not know how to verbalize her feelings like that.

That is her mistake. He asks her a question with his eyes, and she freezes.

xiii.

He wants her to tell him that this will not be worth it. He wants her to lay her head on his shoulder and stop him from doing this. Because he remembers the fish in the pond, and he thinks about good and evil, and he does not know.

He needs her to have faith in him.

She hesitates, and she looks at the Avatar, and all he can feel is rage.

xiv.

"I trusted you," she screams.

xv.

"Not enough," he doesn't say.

/

“The worst thing that I ever did Was what I did to you”  - Taylor Swift, Betty

(Indulgence & an S2 AU that got away from me. I’m not a hundred percent sure what you were looking for, but I hope this works aha. Thanks for requesting @colourtheworldwithrainbows​ & I’m so glad you like my writing & I hope you enjoyed this :) Even though I definitely bungled the prompt aha.

If anyone has a Zutara request/prompt you’d like to see written, leave it in my ask box and I’ll write it!)

[talesofealdancynedom]

Morgan in invisibility robes, holding Icarus; This will be important latter, and beats a generic picture of a wagon.

Tale 21: What The Wagon Was For (chapter 1 - Old Junk 1/7 ) part 6. Stories of wizards

no warnings

A red plastic wagon; Something you might find at a toy store. Used to carry children, and their things, on family outings. Like maybe a zoo or park. Its primary colour scheme is nearly offensive, in it’s obvious and off-putting simple design; Possibly intended to spark joy.  It is worn, scratched from years of use, and a bit dirty form being left outside. The noble wagon is but neglected, old, wise, and beloved.

           A pale blue antique styled bike. White leather on the curved handles, to match the worn seat and accents. The bell that was once painted red, but does not ring as it should; Yet, this instrument is satisfactory in its performance. It is a good bike; a quinte dutiful bike. There is a latch for a basket, weaved of thin strips of pastel, and there were tassels on the handles, before you inherited it. It was once belonged to your mother.

           A winter Nordic crocheted hat; in speckled ivory, navy, and red. Made by your uncle. The pompoms at the ties and top, still in mint condition. It goes with the worn flannel navy trench; you think it looks cool. It actually makes you look impoverished. A cotton t-shirt, with argyle on it; A satisfying geometric pattern, that can convey numerous colours that would be atrocious together in any other circumstance. It was custom made, and you own many; just in different equally terrible colours. But mostly white, navy, blue, red and pink. These Garbs are not lone, for there are a pair of worn runners, that you will soon outgrow. Once white, but now beige. Once tidy, but now torn. Purple and red along the sole and sides, because a designer that year thought that was a good idea; it was the only colour scheme that didn’t offend you. You settle. Often. This outing attire is not complete without ripped worn jeans, that you shouldn’t wear; The knees are green and ripped, and the ankle hems torn off.

           Band-aids and gauze, on your face and wrists. Maybe you should buy some foundation. You don’t want people to notice. You want them to stop noticing. There are so many scars, scrapes, and bruises; You don’t know where, when, or who gave them too you. You spend a lot of your allowance on first aid. The rest is for books of fantastical tales.

“Morgan, I asked you to bring objects that spark joy to therapy. To explore positivity in your life. These are very odd and specific items, that probably tell interesting tales. But you’re a book worm, and those things are for adventures.” Leo Greenwood asked. He was both curious and desperate. This was his fifth meeting with Morgan, and all he knew was that the boy jittered from anxiety, didn’t speak, and was a mage. Leo couldn’t help this poor boy, if he didn’t know him. Leo was hoping his request would be catching Morgan with honey, and would make him open up. Leo knew Morgan was knowledgeable of magic, and practically a historical encyclopedia; But this private counseling room was not a class room. Leo didn’t want to hear about magic, he wanted to hear about Morgan; Something Morgan was obviously less encyclopedic about. That was why he was there. As accurate as Leo’s assumptions about the objects Morgan brought were, the conversation remained one-sided.

           Morgan sat twiddling his thumbs. Icarus, his golden eagle familiar, was perched on his shoulder. Icarus would talk for Morgan, but Leo forbade it, as he wanted Morgan to have the confidence to speak for himself. Leo’s familiar was Dolly, a Maine Coon cat. Familiars say something about inner nature. This suggested there was a regal, brave, and polite something underneath that cowering youth. Also, that there was a large, soft, tame someone inside Leo’s seemingly professional exterior.

“What about the wagon? We can start with one object.” Leo inquired. Morgan shrugged. The wagon and bike were leaning against the bulletin, next to the door. There was a motivation poster with inspirational vapid photography on it; And another with cartoon animals.

“You brought so many things; it makes me think you have a lot of meaningful things in your life, and thus a lot of love to go around. I hear from professor Fyrstan and Woodwick, that you are a passionate young man,” Leo pushed. Morgan stayed silent. “It is full of a variety of loot today. Is that important too?” Leo continued, trying a more upbeat tone. Morgan looked destroyed, but nodded a little. Progress. Leo smiled.

“This place is confidential right?” Morgan murmured. Leo adjusted his seat and leant in with excitement. The boy was indeed, not mute. For now.

“By law! This office is a safe place, Morgan.” Leo said sweetly. Then Morgan took a deep breath and looked off to the side, at the succulent terrarium. Leo’s smile faded. Morgan was so anxious all of the time, Leo had never seen him take a breath. More over, he was a seer, and when magic seers take a breath like that, it means a lot of information is coming your way.

“Each week, for years, I put the same things in the wagon.” Morgan said. That was an anticlimactic answer, For such a deep breath. Leo looked around, tapping his pen. He nodded for Morgan to carry on.

“Tucked neatly in the wagon, each week, are the following assortment of things:”

A worn brick red plastic container; full of thumbprint cookies

A large glitter encrusted brand name coffee tumbler; with mermaid logo.

An empty six-gallon jug

A 1L of half and half

A freezer bag full of homemade dog treats

One of the old tabletop games found in storage

A cassette player, and tape, filled with a playlist of catchy children’s songs

A therapy bullet journal

A six-meter garden hose

Large bronze bridle

Hathing fyords Celtician tea: rich black

Foxer’s box take out and all-day dinner double fish and chips with times two extra chips

Half a packet if cherry losings

Baby Blue’s perfectly pressed sugar cubes

A counterfeit alchemized rhinestone and silver men’s business watch

Thick hemp rope

The gossip page of The Weekly Passing’s newspaper

An opaque athletic water bottle filled with skim milk

The Pony Paradise Boutique hand crafted equine grooming brush

A 12” hard wood dowel

A bag of plastic party kazoos

“Goodness Morgan; What in the two veils are you doing each week, as a mage, with such an assortment of oddly specific, and very mundane, things?” Leo asked. He was completely stunned and perplexed. Morgan looked up and made eye contact with Leo for the first time. Then he shrugged, but this time with personality; suggesting the answer should have been obvious.

NEXT--->

[birthdaytoast]

c o f f e e s h o p

@ang3lba3 and I combined this ask with @rockpapertheodore ‘s request for “cumbending.” It takes place in the republic city housewives AU, which you don’t need to know to understand (it’s literally just a republic city au)> Also, it’s NSFW but like, barely. 

The thing about Sokka, is that it’s easy to forget how smart he is. Between his terrible sense of humor, his dedication to slapstick, and his general disdain for academia, he’s pretty easily underestimated. 

“It’s a simple question, Zuko, yes or no?” Sokka asks, obstinately. His arms are crossed, and he’s pouting.

“I— it is not a simple question, and I’m not qualified to answer it,” Zuko says. “And this isn’t the place for this.”

They’re in public. Somehow, through sheer cleverness, Sokka’s managed to engage Zuko in another outrageous argument where people can hear it.  

“Sounds like someone’s not as good a bender as he says he is,” Sokka sighs, slouching in apparent defeat.

It’s not even a particularly clever manipulation on Sokka’s part, is the thing. Sokka’s smart enough to play him better, to be more subtle. But he doesn’t need to be, because he plays Zuko like a harp. 

“NO!” Zuko snaps. “No, okay?!” The entire shop twists to look at him, but it’s just for a moment. They’re used to him.

He lowers his voice anyways, leaning forward to hiss at Sokka. “No, I don’t think there are cumbenders. The fifth element, if it exists, would be— spirit, or life. Not semen.”

Sokka’s eyes glint in victory, and he matches Zuko’s pose, leaning his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his palm thoughtfully. “I never said a thing about any fifth element. Jizz is made of liquid, right?” 

“Why—” Zuko asks, desperately. He was going to ask why Sokka hasn’t asked a waterbender about this, but then he realized he didn’t want to hear about it if he had. “I’m a firebender. That doesn’t mean I can bend— hot air. Mercury is a liquid, but it’s not water.”

“Hm,” Sokka says, eyebrow arching. “But-- you can bend heat. You do it all the time, when you make your hands cold and put them down my--” 

“My heat,” Zuko emphasizes, and then puts his face in his hands. “Shut up. Shut up. Don’t fucking say it.”

Sokka doesn’t need to, grinning huge as Jin strolls over with a wooden tray in her hands. 

“Hey guys!” Jin says, cheerfully. “Whatchya talking about?”

“Zuko just raised a very interesting point about how waterbenders can bend their own cum,” Sokka answers cheerfully. 

Jin, bless her and damn her both, is completely unfazed. “Wouldn’t they be able to bend all cum?” she asks, leaning the tray at an angle against her hip. “I mean, it’s liquid, right?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sokka says, snapping his fingers decisively. 

“This is a nightmare,” Zuko mutters. “I’m going to wake up.”

“Aww, you dream about me?” Jin asks, twirling her hair on her finger.  

Sokka opens his mouth and Zuko knows, he knows that he’s about to say something humiliating. So he jumps to his feet and shouts, eyes drawn to him again, “I WOULD LOVE TO TRY YOUR NEW DRINK PLEASE.” 

“There’s a new drink?” Jin asks Sokka, intrigued. Sokka mouths special sauce at her. She mouths nonsense back, to indicate she hadn’t caught it.

“How perceptive,” Uncle says from the drape that hangs over the door to the kitchens. “I wasn’t sure if I would try it. Here, we can try it together.” 

“I will get you for this,” Zuko tells Sokka in an undertone, finger jabbing at him furiously. Then he turns to his Uncle, grimace fixed firmly on his face. “Sounds great.”

“Uncle!” Sokka says happily, eyes on Zuko’s. “We’re having a debate. What have you got for us?” He pulls out a seat for Uncle, taking the tray from his hands and setting it on the table in front of them. 

The tea set is a deep brown, the cups larger but more shallow than the ones he typically uses in the teashop. There’s a strange, indecipherable scent trailing from the spout of the teapot in a misty swirl. 

“Hmm,” Uncle says, settling in with a huff. Zuko, resigned, sits down. The shop returns to their own, probably blissfully cum free, conversations. “I would be willing to trade one honest opinion for another. What is the topic?”

“Wheth--” “Whether or not benders can bend things outside of their elements,” Zuko interrupts, stomping on Sokka’s foot. 

“It’s not outside of their element, it’s a liquid,” Jin insists. 

“Don’t you have customers?” Zuko asks meanly. 

“I don’t work here,” Jin says dismissively. 

“What?” 

“It’s true, she doesn’t,” Uncle says casually, patting the chair next to him. Jin sits down, settling her serving tray on her lap. She’s wearing one of the Jasmine Dragon’s aprons, identical to the one that Uncle has on. 

“Well, if you want the good coupons, raw sexual appeal will only get you so far,” Jin says, reasonably. 

“So if I were to sneeze,” Sokka says, and Uncle scowls at him and puts a protective arm over the tea-set. “Hypothetically! Hypothetically sneeze, would a waterbender be able to--” “I don’t think that’s better,” Zuko moans, making a face. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” 

“Ah,” Uncle says, wisely. “Piss. Yes, they can.”

Zuko grabs the pot of tea, and pours it directly into his mouth, managing to mostly empty it. It’s disgusting, bitter and burnt.

“Alright, there’s Uncle’s opinion,” Zuko says. “Uncle, my honest opinion is this tastes horrible.”

“Yes, I thought that might be the case. Some enterprising individuals assure me that this drink is gaining popularity in Ba Sing Se, specifically for its medicinal purposes. Alas, ground beans did sound too good to be true.” Uncle sighs, stroking his beard. 

“It’s not even leaf water?” Zuko asks. His skin is starting to feel strange, buzzing slightly. His face flushes. 

Sokka and Jin are staring at him. They stare at him a lot, but this is different, like they’re judging him. He scowls, and blushes more, and crosses his arms. “WHAT,” he asks, too loud. He twitches. His fire feels— odd. It’s sliding through his veins so easily. “What. Medicinal properties?”

Uncle is also staring at him now. So is everyone else in the shop, and Zuko’s heart pounds in his chest as he slides further down the seat and pulls the collar of his robe up and over his mouth. 

He can feel every hair on his head. He thinks he can feel hairs he hasn’t grown yet. 

“Hm. Perhaps I should have investigated that aspect more thoroughly,” Uncle says. Sokka’s expression has gone from gleeful to worried, and he leans forward, reaching for Zuko. 

“I’m fine,” Zuko says, high pitched. He moves to his feet, dodging Sokka’s hands. “Stop— don’t look at me. Stop looking at me. Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here, isn’t it.”

He bounces on the balls of his feet, flapping his hands at his face to try and get some circulation.

Sokka frowns and looks to the other cups of brown, stinking liquid. Then, in slow motion, horror dragging through Zuko’s veins, he shrugs. And. Downs one. “BLECH,” Sokka says, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Why is it so thick?” 

“Bottoms up!” Jin says, holding her nose as she gulps hers. She gags a little, but pushes through it like a real champ.

The bean-tea in the pot had been less thick. Probably. Zuko rolls his tongue over his teeth, briefly absorbed by the sensation. 

“Gritty,” he says.

“Sandy,” Sokka agrees. 

“That would be the ground beans,” Uncle says. “Hm. Do you think that earthbenders can bend ground items?”

“There would have to be earth in them,” Sokka says, blinking rapidly. Jin is sitting completely still for the first time Zuko’s ever seen. 

Zuko forces himself to sit back down. 

“Beans come from the earth,” he says. 

“And cum comes from the soul,” Sokka says sagely. “So, the Avatar--” Uncle stands abruptly, takes the tray, and heads back to the kitchens while Zuko’s still trying to process the words cum and Sokka’s mouth and Uncle, sitting right there. 

“Hey!” Jin says, and follows him. “Wait, I think whatever it does is working on me!”

(Safely ensconced in the kitchen, with only Jin to see, Iroh lets himself break into giggles. Zuko’s face.)

“Wow,” Zuko says, wonderingly. “I guess I’m going to kill you and then myself.” 

“Aww,” Sokka says, and puts a hand over Zuko’s. Zuko’s fingers twitch feebly. Murderously. “You’re a real romantic, Zuko. Did you know that? Have I told you that today?”

“I believe all cumbending should be saved for committed relationships,” Zuko says, trying to convince himself not to dig his nails into Sokka’s hand. He digs them into the table instead.

“I kinda wanna cumbend right now,” Sokka grins. His legs are shaking under the table. Zuko knows, because it’s shaking the table, their actual leaf-water teacups tinkling as they shudder against the little clay plates. 

“I’m gonna cumbend you into a dumpster,” Zuko says, and threads their fingers together. He stands, because he can’t stand to sit any longer. “My room’s an acceptable substitute. Unfortunately.”

“Your room is a dumpster,” Sokka agrees, skip-hopping over to the stairs, dragging Zuko along behind him. “This stuff was gross. We should let Katara look at it. Does your Uncle have more? See if your Uncle has more, I want some for myself. I bet I could make it taste good.” 

“Uh huh. Keep talking. See if I bend anything for you,” Zuko says, unlocking the apartment. “I need to move out. I can’t ever speak to him again.”

“I know I say that I can make anything taste good, but I truly mean it. This won't be like that spicy bread bowl thing, I’m pretty sure that if I add--”

“Sokka,” Zuko sighs, opening the door. “Stop calling it spicy.”

“Do you think that you can bend my cum if it’s spicy?” Sokka asks, and Zuko gives into the temptation and shoves him back against the couch. 

“You’re pretty hot,” he says, toppling him. “Why don’t I just bend you?”

Sokka doesn’t answer. Instead he just-- giggles. A lot. It’s adorable. “I thought you’d never ask,” he finally says, and Zuko realizes-- he’s been played. Spirits, but it’s easy to forget how smart Sokka is, sometimes. 

“That is not acceptable foreplay,” he says, climbing on top of him. It’s a ‘do what I say, not what I do’ kind of situation. He rests his ass on Sokka’s stomach, so that if he wants any kind of friction he’ll have to grab his hips, move him. He points threateningly down into Sokka’s face. “This isn’t going to work again.”

“I’m thinking, more water, less heat,” Sokka says conversationally. His hands settle on Zuko’s hips, fingers twitching, tapping an erratic pattern against his skin. “Maybe something sweet? Or, something creamy? Lots of people don’t like sealcow milk, I wonder--” 

“Shut up,” Zuko groans. He kisses him, entirely out of self defense. Not because this is working on him.

“Mff, Zuko, I think I’m onto something,” Sokka says against his mouth. He’s laughing, though, and his hands clutch more forcefully at Zuko’s hips, obviously having him on. 

“No, I’m on some thing,” Zuko says, twitching his hips teasingly, bumping at the head of Sokka’s erection.

Sokka’s eyes shine, all squinty and cute with the force of his amusement. “Not yet you’re not, if you don’t stop wasting time talking.” 

Zuko slides further up Sokka’s stomach. “Actually, no, why don’t you tell me about how you’re going to fix the horrible bean juice? I don’t know what I was saying earlier, it’s a real stimulating top—”

“I’m a stimulating top,” Sokka says, and there’s a gasp and a giggle and lots of movement and then, not very much talking at all. 

At one point, lost in ecstasy, Zuko thinks he hears Sokka murmur, “cumbending, go.” 

He pretends he doesn’t. 

That’s what love is, sometimes.

[dickspeightjrs]

Raindrops on Roses - (sequel to NERD / 1.7k words / au)

ao3 link

Castiel was so tired he could feel it in his bones. Everything that could go wrong today, did. 

First, the projector in the lecture hall wouldn’t turn on, so he’d had to only give half his seminar. Then, Anna had called in sick and asked Cas to cover her class, which he did gladly because Anna was a good friend (and because it was only an Intro to History class - he could do that in his sleep). But she’d told him the wrong room number, and by the time he’d arrived at the correct room, half of the class had left. And then, as if the day couldn’t get any worse, his beloved car - a Lincoln Continental - had decided it’d had enough. He left it in the university staff parking lot and got the bus back home at the end of the day in the pouring rain. 

By the time he made it to the front door, he was soaked through to the skin. He sighed wearily, at least Dean would be home from work and would easily be able to cheer him up. Just being in the man’s presence was enough to fill anyone with overwhelming joy (though Castiel might be a little biased).

Castiel unlocked the door and shook off his dripping trench coat. He frowned when he noticed the darkness engulfing the house. Where was Dean?

“Dean?” He called out. 

No answer.

Trying to avoid getting the carpet wet, Cas moved into the kitchen and flicked the light on. The room was the same as he and Dean had left it that morning. They left the house together before saying their goodbyes and headed off in opposite directions. The only thing that was different, Cas noticed, was the note left in the middle of the kitchen table with what looked like a gift card placed next to it. Cas slid closer to inspect it. 

‘Happy Anniversary babe!

Come meet me x’

Attached to the note, wasn’t actually a gift card but a hotel key card with ‘Room 401’ printed on it. 

Fuck! Crap, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Castiel had completely forgotten. Today was his and Dean’s fifth anniversary. He was meant to pick up Dean’s present during his break in classes but that didn’t end up happening because he’d taken Anna’s class. 

How could he forget? It had been five years since the day that they’d met properly for the first time. Cas couldn’t believe he’d been so nervous, looking back. Everyday with Dean since then had been wonderful. 

Within a year of that day in the airport, Cas had finished his degree and moved straight out to Kansas as soon as he could. He got a job at the university and had been working his way up to teaching a few of his own classes in the history department. 

Dean still worked at the same garage he’d been at when they met. Except now, he’d bought out half of it from his uncle Bobby and they worked together with the idea that Dean would one day buy him out fully when Bobby wanted to retire (though Castiel suspected the old man planned to just give it to Dean no matter what the younger man said).

They were happy.

Castiel was definitely happy. He’d even been thinking lately that he might pluck up the courage to propose to Dean, and maybe suggest a couple of kids down the line. He hadn’t brought any of this up with Dean though. And now he wouldn’t have a chance. Dean would probably hate him now. 

Without a second’s more thought, Cas grabbed the key card and ran back out of the house into the rain. 

The card was for the Imperial Hotel, which was only a couple of blocks away. It’d be faster to run it than try to get a cab at this time. Plus, he was already soaked through, what’s a little more rain gonna do?

As he darted around people on sidewalks and jumped over dogs on leashes, Cas went over in his head how he’d try to manage to convince Dean how sorry he was that he’d forgotten their anniversary. 

When the Imperial came into view, he increased his speed until he reached the front doors and stopped dead in his tracks. This place was incredibly fancy, somewhere Dean and Cas would never even think to go. Dean really had made an effort. 

Castiel looked down at his dripping clothes. Was he really about to embarrass Dean even more by dashing through a posh hotel, dripping water all over its floors? He pictured Dean sitting upstairs in one the many rooms, waiting for his boyfriend to appear. 

Cas would run through fire for that man. The hotel managers would have to get over a bit of water. 

Before he could rethink his choice, Castiel dashed through the front doors and eagerly tried to find the elevators. Luck seemed to finally be on his side because the elevators opened right out into the lobby. 

Ignoring the looks he was getting from other guests, Castiel dashed again to an open elevator. Thankfully, it remained empty as he hurriedly pressed the ‘4’ button until it lit up. The doors closed slowly as if to tease Castiel. 

The elevator journey was not nearly long enough for Castiel to calm his nerves. As he stepped out and made his way to the right room, he pulled the key card out of his pocket. He made quick work of locating the room and scanning the key card, slamming the door handle down and pushing the door open urgently. 

“Dean, I’m so sorry. I forg-” Castiel was stopped in his ranted apology by the sight of Dean knelt down by a bed scattered with rose petals, with something in his hands. 

Once Dean’s eyes took in Cas, he immediately threw the item he was holding onto the bed and raced over to his boyfriend. 

“Cas, babe, what happened?” He asked as he put a hand to Cas’ white shirt, which was now see-through. “You look like you took on a rain cloud and lost. Where’s your trench coat? Did you go out in that rain in just this?” 

Castiel’s chest still heaved from all the running he’d just done. He took one look at his boyfriend and the day’s stresses all came flooding out. “I’ve had such a bad day. Nothing was going right at work. Then Anna called in sick so I covered her class and forgot all about your present. Then my car finally died so I had to get the bus home in the rain. By which time, I’d forgotten all about our anniversary altogether. I saw your note so I ran here. I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel’s eyes pleaded with Dean to forgive him.

Dean looked at Cas with awe and love. Before he could say anything, he pulled Cas in for a warming, loving kiss. When he pulled away, he didn’t let go for long, pressing himself against Castiel and putting his face in his boyfriend’s neck. “You have nothing to be sorry for, beautiful.” He whispered against Cas’ cool skin. 

“But, Dean! Look at all the effort you’ve gone to!” Castiel protested. He stepped away from Dean and took a closer look at the decorations around the bed. “Look at the petals on the bed.” 

Now that Cas had a closer look he could tell the petals weren’t randomly scattered at all. Dean had shaped them to spell the word ‘NERD.’ Cas’ heart melted. That had become their little inside joke since that day in the airport. Cas was even saved as ‘NERD’ in Dean’s phone - with a heart emoji next to it, of course. 

“And look at the candles!” Castiel continued looking at the beautiful atmosphere Dean had created. “And the - wait, is that a ring?” Castiel grabbed what looked like a ring box off the bed. This must have been what Dean threw over his shoulder when Cas had stormed in. 

“Well, yeah, I guess I was planning to propose.”

Castiel whirled around to face Dean, ring box still in hand and unopened. 

“What?!”

Dean smirked at his boyfriend getting flustered again. “I was down on one knee ready to propose when you came in.” He walked over to Cas and took the ring box out of his hands, placing it on a side table and gripping hold of Cas’ hands with both of his. “But then I saw how exhausted and, well, wet you looked so I just sorta hurled the ring away to check you were okay.” He squeezed Castiel’s hand. 

Cas looked down at Dean’s hands in his. “So you were going to propose?” Dean nodded and let out a hum in confirmation. “So I ruined it?” Tears started forming in Cas’ eyes. He could feel Dean’s gaze on him but couldn’t bring himself to meet those beautiful green eyes. 

“Cas.” Dean whispered, raising Castiel’s chin to make him meet his eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything. And even if you had, you could ruin a million proposals and I’d still go for a million and one.”

“But I forgot your present too.” Cas protested, tears falling down his cheeks. 

Dean caught the tears with a finger and wiped them away. “Castiel Novak, you wonderful, beautiful, frustrating idiot. You are my gift. Today and always. I love you, Nerd.” 

Castiel finally let out a watery chuckle. “I love you too, Dean.”

“Good.” Dean smiled. “Now, I’m gonna pick up that ring; I’m gonna get down on one knee, and ask you to spend the rest of your life with me. Is that okay?”

Castiel chuckled again and nodded - he couldn’t trust himself to speak right now. 

Dean did as he said he would, not letting go of Cas’ hand once (though it was a bit tricky opening the box one-handed). 

“Castiel Novak, I’ve known I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you since the day you ran into my arms at that airport. I love you even more everyday. Will you marry me?”

Cas let out a sob and fell to his knees, pulling Dean in for a kiss. “Yes, of course I will.” He whispered against his fiance’s lips. 

Thank you for reading!

If you’d like to be tagged any of my future stuff just drop me a message and let me know. :)

[goldengypsy7]

Late Nights and Cold Coffee

No intended copyright on the image (just found on Google Images)

Just a fluffy one-shot with Jubal working extra late on a case and his girlfriend trying to stay up until he gets home. Dash of angst-Jubal for good measure.

As another ad for the "innovation in home cooking" appears on the TV, I glance at my phone again for the fifth time in the last hour. 10:04 blinks at me and the No New Notifications words mock me. The light from the TV seems brighter than it did a minute ago and I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute against the glare and the urge to keep them closed tugs at me. Opening them again to glare at the very happy women on screen who was apparently loving the cooking device that would "change my life forever". Snorting at her fakeness, I go in search of the sure thing that would keep me awake - caffeine.

 I lean against the counter watching the kettle boil. I could just go to bed, the little voice in my head reasoned. There was really no need to stay up and wait for him to get home. But I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep - the bed would be too big without him hogging three quarters of it, too cold without his arms curled around me and far too quiet without his heartbeat in my ear. Even as I nod to myself that that was definitely the reason, I was staying up the smaller voice in my head whispered that he might not come home at all, that the idea of going to sleep and waking up to him not being here was just too horrible to contemplate. Squashing that voice hard, I shake my head and pour the hot water over the coffee granules, reminding myself that he was good at his job.  

Hugging the steaming mug to my chest, I wander back into the living room, dropping my phone back onto the coffee table, I settle backwards against the corner of the sofa, feet curled underneath me, as the cop show I had been watching restarts again. The case is solved, the murderer is in custody and the credits role on the TV a short while later and just as I go to turn the TV off, the next episode starts. Glancing again at my phone and the lack of messages, I sigh and settle back to watch the next one and somehow the episode after that too. By the first ad break of my fourth episode however, my memory kicks in and I remember this episode – it was the uncle who was the killer I nod to myself. Untucking my legs to lean forward and grab the remote off of the table, and as the TV screen goes black, I hiss in pain. My legs protest at the movement off of the couch and as I stand up the loud crack from my back shows my body’s hatred of being curled up in one position for so long. Rolling my shoulders, I stretch my legs out in front of me on the sofa hoping to ease the aching in the joints and just watch the sky go from dark blue to black outside of the window. With that transition, bright lights fill the outlines of the buildings across the street illuminating the view out of the window.  I turn my attention to the road below and my eyes start to grow heavy as I watch the stream of car lights flickering along the streets outside, winding their way downtown. The swoosh of cars and the occasional horn of a taxi are the only sounds that fill the apartment for a while, lulling me.

 I muffle a yawn and, grabbing my coffee off of the table, I swig the stone-cold liquid.  I wince at the rancid taste of cold coffee and dumping the cup back on the table again, I pick up my book to try and distract myself from the sleep that was invading my mind.  It takes another hour for me to get the realisation that the words just aren't going in. I have no idea how the heroine has suddenly got from Chicago to Moscow and I conclude that I should probably re-read the last chapter and a half to find out and stop kidding myself that I am paying attention. With a sigh I dump the book downwards onto my chest and rub my hands across my eyes. As I open them again, I cushion my head on my left arm against the side of the sofa and watch through half-closed eyes as one by one the lights in the buildings opposite start to turn off until the buildings are plunged into black shapes in the night. I turn my attention to the red light on the skyline watching it blink on and off, on and off. I try to force my eyes back open but the red light has a hypnotic effect and sleep claims its most unwilling victim.

 Unsurprisingly at 2am, the subway car is empty. In fact, except for a few teenagers scantily dressed in car one and what looks to be maintenance workers in fluorescent jackets in car two, Jubal is alone on the train. Co-ordinating three different and very unhelpful agencies, 25 FBI agents and 2 teams out in the field through a bomb threat on downtown New York is his job and a job he enjoyed very even if it had taken the better part of 18 hours to finish – but hey just another day at the office. The late-night subway train journeys home had become a staple part of his job over the years. The click click of the car going over the tracks is soothing, the station announcements were familiar and the silence of the car settled his brain down more than any other stress-relief techniques he had tried over the years. He no longer needed to listen for the announcement of his station, getting off instinctively on his stop. At the top of the steps up to the street, he paused to pull his coat further around him as icy wind flicked at the ends of his scarf.

 The walk home is short and untroubling. New York it seems is the city that was asleep tonight – no taxi horns or sirens break the night air, the hum of cars on the streets are quiet, even his breath silent puffs of fog on the air. He pulls off his gloves and stuffs them in his pockets as he takes the stairs in his building two at a time. His front door looms into view in front of him and suddenly the thought makes him pause. So unused to having someone to come home to after the divorce, without the art of not waking the kids or in later years Sam, he was out of practice at sneaking into his apartment in the dawn hours.

 Jubal eases the front door open wincing at the squeak of the hinges. He pauses for a minute when the click of the lock echoes around the hallway loudly, listening for any kind of movement in the apartment. Nothing stirs and his coat and scarf shrugged off and hung on the back of the door. He toes off his shoes, leaving them where they are in the hallway, as he tiptoes down the hallway to the bedroom door. Pushing the door open he is confronted with an empty bed - the pillows are still plump; sheets are flat and unrumpled. He moves further forward, blinking like she will appear in the bed when he opens his eyes again – a trick of sleep deprivation. The bedroom is empty, in fact there is no sign she has been in here at all. The apartment is quiet, too quiet and fear grips his stomach. Irrationality overtakes his brain and he moves further forwards into the room quickly, yanking open the wardrobe to find… their clothes - her dresses and jeans intertwined with his shirts and trousers. He blows a breath out; he mentally berates himself at his insecurity as he shuts the wardrobe door and goes out of the bedroom. The kitchen and living room are both clouded in darkness, confusion furrows his brow as he moves forward into the living room and that’s when he sees it – a coffee cup on the table.

 Rounding the sofa, he sees her.  She’s laying on the sofa, a book open on her chest and her chest rising and falling gently. Her head is on her arm, her neck at a funny angle that’s gonna hurt like hell tomorrow – well he supposes later today now when she wakes. Her face is calm, strands of hair fall around her face and as he watches she murmurs in her sleep, shifting on the sofa. He moves forward then, crouching down in front of the couch and smooths a hand across her cheek. Her eyes flicker open at the contact and connect with his. Jubal braces - for the glare, for the hissed barbed words. After all its 2:30am, Sam would have been livid with him for being this late, no matter what the emergency at work had been. There would have been unbearable heavy tension as she ignored him and then, when the kids had gone to school or day-care, there would have been the screaming argument that he would never be able to win – the argument that his family should be more important. Yet his answer never seemed to satisfy – his job wasn’t 9-5, he couldn’t just turn his computer off at 5pm and have done.

 He waited, but there is just silence, she blinks at him, unseeing for a minute or so and then her eyes focus on his face properly. Again, he tenses and holds his breath… in vain. A smile lights up her face, warmth shines out of her eyes and her hand comes up to cup his cheek. He lets out a breath and presses a kiss on her forehead as he helps her sit upright, putting the book on the table,

 “Why aren’t you in bed?”

 His voice is loud in the apartment, raspy from all the shouting around the JOC that he had done that day. She moves, poking his arm until he moves it upwards and he smiles as she shuffles into his side,

 “I was waiting for you.”

 Her sentence ended in a big yawn as she laid her head on his shoulder. His arm settled on her side, pulling her against him gently, feeling her warmth seeping through his shirt.

 “You didn’t have to”

 He counters quickly – not wanting her to feel like she had to stay up for him. After all, this was one night of many that were going to be late and she also had to work in the morning.

 “I know. I couldn’t sleep without you”

 Her voice had gone quieter, almost to a whisper and she ducks her head at the last sentence hiding her face in his side. Warmth spreads through his chest at her confession and he moves her head upwards out of hiding to press a soft chaste kiss on her lips. He feels her squirm slightly next to him as his beard scratches at her skin. He pulls back to look at her. Her eyes are already sliding back closed again and she is leaning a lot of her weight against his body. Shaking her shoulder slightly he says,

 “Come on – lets go to bed huh”

 “Well Mr Valentine, I’m not that kind of girl!”

 She teases gently, laughing at him as she stands, grabbing her phone off of the table.  Jubal wraps an arm around her shoulders as they head for the bedroom and blissful bed.

[rora-s]

The Derivative Chapter 1: Sixteen

“Abbs come on time to leave” Janice called into the back room at the diner. 

“Coming” the teenager replied and grabbed her backpack from the floor. Waving bye to the diner chef she followed her mother out the door. 

Janice and Abby loaded into their small sedan. The vehicle was packed full of stuff from clothes to random bit and bobs. They practically lived out of their car for the last couple years until they settled down in the latest apartment and even then they had been hesitant to finally make the move. 

“Okay so I was thinking” Janice began as she pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Oh that’s dangerous” Abby murmured with a smirk as they drove. 

Janice shot her daughter a look. “Well in a few months you’ll be turning the beautiful age of sixteen. And I was wondering what you wanted to do to celebrate? Cause if you want something big I’ll have to start saving now. But of course if you would rather run your mouth-” 

“Hey hey hey I had to get this sarcasm somewhere” Abby pointed out.

“Yes your father” Janice replied. 

“Yes blame it on the non-existent father in my life” Abby scoffed. 

Janice sighed “alright anyway you want to have a celebration or what?” 

“I don’t know” Abby shrugged. “It’s not like I want a party or anything maybe us just hanging out?” 

“How about a picnic?” Janice suggested pulling up to a red light. Abby gave her a perplexed look. “Lay out a blanket on the floor in the apartment. Get some nice food it could be great” 

“Yeah that sounds great Mom” Abby agreed “you’re the best” 

“I try” Janice replied.

They both laughed as the light turned green. There was the sound of a blaring horn. The car filled with bright light Abby felt her mother’s hand collide with her chest. She heard the screech of brakes and the crunch of metal. 

“Mom!”

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“Abby!” Bang! Bang! Bang! “Come on get up! Your alarms been going for the last ten minutes!” 

I groaned in exhausted annoyance and rolled over in my blankets swatting haphazardly at the alarm on my nightstand. There was another round of banging on my bedroom door “I’m up! I’m up!” I yawned sitting up in my bed.

“Listen I got to get to work and you have to get to school so start moving” the man on the other side of my door ordered. 

“I am moving” I responded around a second yawn. 

“Yeah you totally sound awake” I heard him mutter. 

“Hey I heard that” I called and got a scoff in response as he headed on down the hallway. 

With a deep breath I got up and started getting ready. My room was pretty plain with a dresser and bed and a couple knickknacks strewn about. I’d only been living in it for a little less than a month which was quite apparent. Though I didn’t have much stuff in the first place. I threw on a t-shirt, jeans, plaid button up, and my well loved and sharpied sneakers. 

I headed downstairs with my backpack over my shoulder tossing it on the couch. My biological father was pouring himself some coffee in the kitchen. “Morning” He muttered as I began fixing myself some cereal. 

“Morning Don” I replied. 

“Listen with this case I’m working I’m probably going to be home late” he started. 

“Am I staying at Grandpa’s then?” I inquired. 

“Maybe not staying but you’ll be going there after school today” the FBI agent explained. 

“Awesome” I responded sarcastically “maybe I’ll get some decent food then” 

“Ouch” Don joked as his phone rang. He answered it and went into business mode “Eppes… yeah?” his face fell as he listened to the person on the other line “when? Where?” he checked his watch and I knowingly started eating faster. “Yeah alright I’ll be there as soon as I can… yeah” he hung up and started moving faster grabbing his things. 

“Case?” I asked, finishing my cereal and sliding my bowl into the sink. 

“Yup come on I have to get you to school and then go to a crime scene” he explained. 

“But I haven’t brushed my hair or my teeth yet” I objected standing up as he walked past me to grab his jacket. 

“Chew some gum and I don’t know, wear a hat” he offered. 

“They don’t allow hats in school” I explained, not dropping the sarcastic edge from my voice.

Don seemed rather frazzled. “Well then I don’t know what to tell you. Now come on” I sighed and grabbed my backpack as we headed out the door. “Since when do you care about your hair anyway?” 

I rolled my eyes running my fingers through my short brown hair “you’re the worst parental guardian ever” 

_____________

3rd POV. 

“Silber’s at work right now at the hospital” Terry informed as her and Don loaded into the truck. 

“Alright let’s get heading that way then” the man muttered. Pulling out of the FBI car lot. 

They drove for only a couple seconds before Terry spoke up again. “So you were late to the crime scene this morning” it was a cross between a statement and a question. 

Don sighed “yeah Abby had a late start and I had to drop her at school” 

“Right being a dad’s not that easy huh?” the woman voiced. 

Don scoffed in response. “Well I don’t know if I even qualify as a dad yet.” he explained “she definitely doesn’t call me one. This morning I was dubbed the worst parental guardian ever”

“Well she called you her parent sorta” Terry offered.

Don chuckled lightly “yeah sorta” 

“Relax Don, she's a moody fifteen year old girl who just came to live with her birth father. She needs some time to adjust” the profiler explained as they turned onto the street with the hospital. 

“Sixteen this weekend actually” Don informed. 

“Really?” Terry looked to the man in surprise. “You guys doing anything? Party? Something?” 

Don shrugged “I got her a present. A ball cap.” Terry shot her partner a pointed look “what? I don’t know what teenage girls are into these days. And as for a party with what friends?” The two agents climbed out of the car in front of the large hospital. “She hates school, never really even talks to anybody.” 

“She’s gifted right? Like your brother the mathematician?” the woman inquired. 

“In a different way but yeah” Don nodded. “Took college algebra in fifth grade from what I understand and can remember anything she’s ever read. Actually she reads anything you put in her hand faster than the average person” 

“Well then it makes sense she would hate school. She’s not learning anything” Terry voiced. 

“Yeah well they won’t put her in an advanced program cuz she doesn’t have a solid school report history” Don explained “I don’t even think she was ever in the 1st or 2nd grade even” 

Terry nodded as they entered the hospital elevator “you know it might help if you actually talk to her about it.”

“Yeah” Don sighed as the doors closed. 

______________

Abby POV. 

I sat in yet another class bored out of my mind. I was two chapters ahead of my teacher and classmates in all of my classes and most of the topics they discussed I had learned about already. 

“Now the derivative is a way to show the rate of change. That is, the amount by which a function is changing at one given point. For functions that act on the real numbers, it is the slope of the tangent line at a point on a graph…” 

I tuned out my teacher and rested my head on my desk. I had positioned myself in the very back corner of the classroom as to attract the least attention from my teacher and peers. Reaching into my backpack I pulled out my blinders. My medical grade sunglasses like eye cover that I put on to block out all visual stimuli. They were given to me by a doctor that examined me for my memory while I was in the foster system. 

As I rested there isolating my mind from the world I began to dwell on the various things that rested in the back of my mind. However one topic I tended to shy away from. A topic that was getting harder to avoid. My birthday.

It was coming up and I wasn’t completely certain I wanted to do anything for it. Me and my mom had talked about how we were going to celebrate it. But she was gone now and Don. I doubted he even remembered it was coming. 

The bell rang pulling me from my thoughts. I slipped my blinders to the top of my head and grabbed my stuff. Heading for the door. “Abby” I turned to the teacher who was sitting at her desk. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

I shifted in my path for the door and walked over to Mrs. Clive’s desk. “What do you need.” 

She gave me a look and picked up a book from her desk handing it to me. “I saw your birthday was this weekend. Got you this” 

I took the book from her and looked at it. The book was Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket. A book I had been after since its release earlier this year. “Thank you” I murmured. 

“Ms. Rampart from the library said that you had been pestering her about it since you joined us so I figured it must be something you’re interested in” Clive informed. 

“Yeah I got hooked on it and read up to current last year,” I explained. 

“You know with the monster stories you come in here with I wouldn’t have figured you for the series of unfortunate events” Clive voiced.

I scoffed “yeah and what would you figure I’d read?” 

Clive grinned back “war and peace” 

I shrugged “read that years ago” 

The woman nodded “well go on or you’ll miss your bus” 

“Thank you Mrs. Clive, for the book” I told her. 

“You’re welcome Abby and happy birthday” she smiled. 

“Thanks” I nodded heading out of her classroom. Mrs. Clive was probably my favorite teacher at this school though she was a little too observant on some things. She always took the time to ask me how I was and never got mad at me for not paying attention in class. Of course she did get annoyed when I didn’t turn in homework on time. She knew I could do it. 

I had to jog to get to my bus on time and as I was one of the last ones on I had to sit next to some kid who was half standing on the seat turned around talking to his friend. I was thankful that my stop was quick on the route. 

Hopping off I walked up to my grandfather’s house and let myself in the front door. “Abby! Is that you?” he called. 

“Yeah gramps” I called back. 

He appeared shortly after “ah hey how was your day?” 

“Fine” I shrugged, tossing my backpack on the couch. “Is uncle Charlie here?” 

“Uh yeah upstairs I think” he replied. “You want a snack?” 

“No I'm good” I settled onto the couch and opened the book Clive had gotten me. 

“The grim grotto” Alan read aloud. “Sounds interesting” 

“Yeah it’s from Lemony Snicket's series of Unfortunate Events” I explained. 

“Seems like a light read for you” the man commented sitting down in one of the chairs nearby and picking up the paper. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I exclaimed exasperatedly. 

“Because you read twice as fast as the average person and have an Advanced Eiaditic memory” Alan explained. 

“It’s Advanced Eidetic” I corrected “and just because I read faster doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a small book like this” 

“If you say so” Alan sighed seemingly annoyed with me “so what’s so fascinating about this book series anyway” 

“I don’t know” I replied honestly as I shifted on the couch pulling my feet up “I guess I can relate to being bounced around all the time from place to place under unfortunate circumstances” My grandfather made a humming noise and finally ended his questioning as I turned my attention back to my book. We both returned to our normal after school reading silence. 

____________________________

“Donnie!” I heard my father’s announced arrival from gramps before I saw the man himself  

“Brisket. Must be Friday.” Don murmured as I came wandering out of the kitchen to see him.

“What’s up?” Alan inquired of his eldest son.

“I didn’t have time to drive home. Can I catch a shower here, maybe borrow a clean shirt?” the man requested.

“Yeah, sure, be my guest.” Alan agreed easily.

“So much for 'not staying'” I commented knowingly. 

Don sighed, turning to look at me. “Yeah sorry kid. Case took a turn” 

“It’s fine” I muttered in reply. I knew Don’s work could be trying sometimes and keep him away from home for long periods of time. Which led to me spending half my time staying at my grandfather’s house. 

“Yeah well it’s nice having you around the house anyway” Alan told me as Don turned to head upstairs. “And tell your brother to come down for dinner” Gramps called after his eldest son. 

“If the food’s done he’s probably on his way already” I joked taking a seat at the table.

Alan scoffed and turned back to Don. “you want some there’s plenty” 

“No, I can’t.” The FBI agent objected, removing his tie and tossing it on the table “I got to get back to work.” 

As Don left to go upstairs Charlie appeared. “Abby? When did you get here?” 

I exchanged a look with Alan who was pouring water into everyone’s glasses. “A couple weeks ago Uncle C” I called in a sarcastic reply. Which earned me a look from my uncle. 

I saw the man’s attention shift to the maps my father had brought in with him. I got up to go look over his shoulder at them. “Hey you two that’s Don’s work. Probably be better if you not mess with it” 

“We’re just looking at the map gramps” I responded over my shoulder as I took in the information surrounding the thirteen little red dots on this map. My brain kicked into autopilot as it began various calculations. 

“Well then just the map then none of the files” Alan ordered “you hear me”

“Yeah dad we hear you” Charlie responded this time. However from his tone you could tell his mind was somewhere else. 

“You think there’s something here?” I asked.

“Maybe” Charlie breathed out as we both continued to analyze the data. “We could help” Charlie was talking lightly both our minds processing the information on the maps with mathematical precision. “Crime scenes”

“Tracking, rating, origin point” I muttered looking at the scattered red dots. Me and Charlie looked at each other both realizing the same thing at the same time.

“Charlie, Abby, what do you think you’re doing?” I turned as Don’s voice came from behind. He was done with his shower.

“Crime scenes” Charlie replied seemingly unaware of Don’s obvious annoyance “what kind of crimes?”

“Get away from here” Don snapped folding up the map quickly “these are confidential case files”

“I already saw the map it’s imprinted on my memory” I replied pointedly. “It doesn’t really matter whether you put it up now or not and we didn’t get in the files.”

“She’s telling the truth.” Alan called from where he was feeding his pet bird. “They just looked at the map. I made sure they didn’t go through anything else.”

“Good,” Don grumbled, grabbing his tie.

“Thirteen crime scenes spread over a contained region. You guys are analyzing the significance of those locations?” Charlie inquired of Don as the older brother tied his tie in the mirror on the wall. I stayed over by the table Charlie followed him.

“Yeah, it’s called predictive analysis.” Don explained “the FBI pioneered it. I trained in it at Quantico, and it doesn’t work on sado-serial crimes. There’s no way to predict the location of the next attack.”

“You know, I helped you out on that stock fraud mess,” Charlie began and I rolled my eyes at his obvious bid. “And the IRS extortion case.”

“Yeah. This is different.” Don objected finishing his tie and turning away from his brother “it’s not about numbers”

“Everything is numbers” Charlie stated and looked to me as Don grabbed his jacket. I shrugged beyond a couple theories there was nothing that I could see us being able to help with or at least not that I could with my limited knowledge. Uncle Charlie sighed and turned to the backyard something caught his eye and I watched as the gears turned in his head. “Don. Hey.” he turned quickly and went after his brother. “Um, can I show you something really quick?”

“No, Charlie I got to get-” Don attempted to argue but his rebellion was futile. As Charlie continued to pester and managed to draw him over to the window facing the backyard. I followed behind them curious to what the mathematician had come up with.

“Check this out.” Charlie gestured outside “you see the sprinkler, yeah?”

“Yeah I see the sprinkler” Don muttered clearly uninterested.

“You see the drops?”

“Yep. See the drops”

Then it clicked in my mind what he was thinking “Even using math there’s no practical way to predict where the next water drop will land” Charlie began his explanation and I walked closer. “There’s too many variables. However, say I couldn’t see the sprinkler. From the pattern of the drops, I could calculate its precise location.”

“The origin point” I voiced.

Charlie flashed me a proud grin then turned back to Don who seemed to slowly be getting the idea “it’s not about predicting the next site. It’s finding what the sites have in common. The point of origin” he nodded to me.

“Charlie, you’re saying you can tell us where the killer lives?” Don inquired.

“Yeah” the mathematician nodded.

“And I can help,” I added.

____________________________

“The movements of a serial perpetrator are defined by his needs. He watches potential victims. Avoiding detection, he’ll frequent public areas, parks, streets that don’t get a lot of traffic, waiting for moments of isolations.” Don explained pacing back and forth in the dining room. 

“Isolated areas, high probability of attacks.” Charlie murmured scribbling on the pad of paper in front of him. 

“Tv distracting you?” Alan inquired as he passed by the table from the kitchen. “I could turn it off” 

“No, it's fine, dad.” Don objected, he glanced over at me sitting in a chair in front of the tv and I quickly diverted my eyes as the brother’s continued to talk. 

Moments later Alan came over and sat down in the seat next to mine. I sighed and turned to my grandfather “This is so unfair I can help” 

“You’re a teenager Abby not an adult” Alan replied with his eyes on the tv. “Let them work” 

“I'm a teenager with a near genius IQ living with an overprotective jerk” I muttered. 

“I heard that” Don called from where he sat on the table. 

“Yeah well it’s a fact” I called over to him. 

“She is capable Don” Charlie agreed “and her help would be valuable”

“I said no I mean no. You’re just a kid. You don’t have clearance and I’m not letting you get involved in a criminal case” The agent put his foot down. “Now can you just listen to me for once?” 

“I listen I just don’t follow” I muttered scooting down in my chair. Alan shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. 

“I get the sense that this is about more than just you wanting to help on this case” the elder man inferred. I crossed my arms and tried to focus in on what Don and Charlie were saying. “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with your birthday being this weekend.” 

“It’s not about that” I objected in a tone that was probably more snap than I intended. Sitting up I saw Don looking at me. I sighed, getting up and heading out to the backyard I couldn’t deal with this today. 

__________________

3rd POV. 

Don left Charlie to do his equations and settled to watch the baseball game with his father. “You going to go talk to her?” Alan inquired after a moment.

Don sighed glancing over to the back door Abby had stormed out of. “No she needs to cool off” 

“Still” the grandfather muttered. 

“Still what? She’s a teenager, you really want me getting her involved in a criminal case?” Don voiced. 

“No, no that’s not what I’m saying Don” Alan sighed “listen it’s her sixteenth birthday this weekend” 

“Yeah” Don muttered “I know I got her a present” 

Alan let off an annoyed breath “Donnie it’s her first birthday without her mother. It’s her first birthday with a father.” Don sighed and looked to the ground. “Have you even talked to her about Janice at all?” 

Don shifted in his seat “I don’t know dad she doesn’t want to talk what am I supposed to do?” 

“Donnie there’s a difference between not wanting to talk and not knowing how to,” Alan explained, “and unfortunately it’s a trait she seemed to have inherited from you.” 

___________________________

“Let’s go” Don ordered the gathered group of agents. Heading for his desk as they dispersed to get everything done. 

“Another day” Terry voiced over his shoulder he glanced back at her before refocusing on his files. “That means the case cuts into Abby’s birthday this weekend doesn’t it?”

“Yeah well she’s staying with my dad” Don muttered, closing the file and tossing it aside. 

“Are you at least going to call her or something?” Terry inquired.

“It’s too late now I will in the morning” the man replied, rising from his desk and heading off. 

Terry sighed watching him walk away. “Yeah if you remember” 

________________

Abby POV. 

White light filled my view, tires screeched, horns honked, a hand slammed into my chest, the crunch of metal, a scream. “Mom!” 

I startled awake sitting up on the couch. Thunder crashed outside. I removed the blinders from my eyes. “Abby are you alright” I turned as Alan came into the living room. “I heard you yell.” 

“Uh yeah” I replied as my heart rate slowed back down. “It was just a dream” 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” the man inquired further. However just then the door opened and in came Charlie. He looked like a drowned rat. “Aw Charlie don’t tell me you went biking out in this weather” 

“I had to go by my office” the man replied as he settled down at the table pulling the FBI case files out of his bag. He was obviously shaken by something. 

The front door opened again and in came Don. “Hey guys, what's up?” he asked, seeming deflated. “Charlie you’re soaked” 

“Yes I’m aware” the younger man replied. 

Don removed his jacket and went for the coffee in the kitchen as I wandered over to the dining room. Which seemed to be the place everyone was congregating. Our reflections shown in the darkened rain streaked windows. Don reappeared shortly after with a mug of coffee. He placed it on the table and began pacing the room. 

“I can’t get my head around it.” Charlie voiced after a moment. 

“What are we missing?” Don ran along the same thought “where’s the problem? And how do we make it work? We need to make it work” he stated the last part more forcefully. 

It was weird watching him work. The gears turning in his head. “We need to retest it. We need another run.” Charlie declared standing and going up to Don who was still pacing. 

“Well that’s not going to happen” the agent objected, turning to his younger brother. 

“Well, look I know that it’s gonna be hard for you to talk your boss into doing it again,” the mathematician tried “but we can’t stop after one attempt-” 

“Charlie” Don tried to interrupt however the professor continued to truck on. 

“New methods require repeated trials-” 

“Charlie, I’m not on the case anymore.” Don explained finally. “Okay?” 

“Why?” Charlie inquired. 

I sighed and watched the look exchanged between Alan and Don. “because my supervisor wanted fresh eyes on it.” I could tell he was lying. 

“Well, maybe the math is not the problem” Alan suggested suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” Charlie questioned. 

“Well, you just said that there was something you couldn’t get your head around,” Alan elaborated further “and I know for a fact that it can’t be the math.” 

“What else is there?” Charlie sighed. Then it clicked like it was obvious.

“The people” I voiced causing all of them to look at me like they had just realized my existence. “The math can only predict what people will do acting within certain parameters what if this guy acts outside of your preconceived notions of human behavior?” I offered. 

“Hey, maybe they’re right” Don nodded walking past me back to the window to point at the water spraying outside. “I mean, this sprinkler. That totally made sense. That you could track back from the location and find out where the guy lives. Right? Totally made sense.” he turned from his father and brother to look at me. “Maybe we’re thinking about this guy in too narrow a focus.” 

“Are you saying I need to consider more than his criminal activities?” Charlie seemed confused. 

“No not exactly” Don explained “I’m saying we maybe need to consider more than just where he lives. Like Abby said. You know look at me. If you designed an equation to find my origin, you wouldn’t get my apartment ‘cause I’m almost never there. My base would be my office.” 

I looked to Charlie as he meandered over toward the window the gears in his head spinning. The math forming in his mind. “Which means we use his home and his work as points of origin.” 

“Exactly” Don agreed. 

“I can design an equation to identify two hot zones.” Charlie muttered eyes still transfixed on the window. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he questioned, turning back to us. “Don… Dad… Abby.” he looked to us each individually. “That’s brilliant” 

It wasn’t long before the boys were packing it up and heading back to Don’s office. Both invigorated by the discovery. Once they were gone Alan turned to me. “You should get to bed, it’s late and tomorrow is a rather important day.”

I nodded slightly as he turned to head to the kitchen “Do you think he knows?” I voiced almost not meaning to. “Do you think Don remembers that it’s my birthday tomorrow?” 

Alan sighed looking back at me. “Abby, Don can get wrapped up in his work but uh, he’s never been one to forget what’s important.” I bit my lip and looked to the floor thinking. “Alright now up to bed” 

“Goodnight gramps” 

“Goodnight Abby” the man smiled at me as I headed for the stairs. 

I reached the room that had at one point been Don’s and collapsed on the bed. My world had been a lot smaller when it was just me and my mom. A lot scarier and a whole lot less normal but definitely smaller and less complicated. 

_________________________

I was startled awake again from the same dream, the same memory. I slowed my breaths and got up from the bed. Dawn had barely set in and light wasn’t very prevalent outside. I paced back and forth in the room. Thinking over everything before finally making a decision. 

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my backpack and headed out of the room. I crept through the house quietly as not to wake Gramps snoring down the hall. As I reached the front door I paused looking back at the house before ducking out and running. 

____________________

3rd POV.

Don sighed as he packed away the last couple files on his desk. The case was finally closed and he was exhausted. He glanced over and saw a small stack of books on his desk wrapped in a bow. He pulled it closer to him and looked at the card on them. To: Abby From: Terry. 

“Figured you could give it to her for me” the female agent spoke up causing Don to turn to her. 

“Yeah sure” he agreed. 

Terry gave him a smile. “Go home Don and celebrate your daughter’s birthday” she instructed him. 

Don nodded as she left. He sat there for a moment thinking about everything today meant. Sixteen years ago today he had become a father and he hadn’t even known it. Then a couple weeks ago he had been told and expected to start acting like a Dad. Don sure didn’t feel like a father. Anytime he talked to Abby it felt weird like he couldn’t find the words or she would just give him sarcasm. It was easier just not to talk at all. He had no idea what he was doing and she certainly didn’t seem to want him around. 

Don let off a breath and rose from his seat gathering up his things. Then his phone rang glancing at his caller ID he was surprised to see it was his father “hey dad what’s-”

“Abby’s missing” Alan interrupted. 

Don immediately felt like he couldn’t breath. His heart rate picked up and his lungs felt empty. “What?” 

“She’s missing. Gone.” Alan repeated he sounded scared himself “I went to wake her up this morning and she just wasn’t there” 

Every worse case scenario started shooting through Don’s mind. Where could she be? Could she be hurt? Kidnapped? Lost somewhere? Scared? He couldn’t think straight as fear coursed through his veins. 

“Alright call the cops put out an Amber alert” Don suggested “see- see if she’s with Charlie or something. I’ll try her cell and go look at- ah the library, the apartment. Places she might go” 

He was talking extremely fast he realized as the cop side of him battled with a side of him he’d never felt before. A kind of pure terror and concern that he couldn’t even begin to quantify as he grabbed his coat and bolted for the elevator hanging up on his father and speed dialing his daughter’s number. She didn’t answer. He tried again and again as he reached his car. This couldn’t be happening. Where was she?

___________________________

Don was driving away from the library as his phone rang. He answered it without even glancing at the caller ID hoping to hear his daughter’s voice on the other line. He was disappointed. 

“Don”

“Charlie I can’t talk right now. Abby is-” 

“I know Dad told me” Charlie informed “He also said she was upset-” 

“She’s always moody Charlie what are you saying?” Don snapped probably a little more harshly than he meant to. 

“I think I know where she is” Charlie spoke quickly as not to be cut off by his frantic older brother. 

________________

Don cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. After all his worrying and frantic searching why hadn’t he looked here first? As he pulled to a stop and got out of his truck he felt himself slow as relief washed over him. 

Sitting in the grass not too far off was Abby. She was staring at one of the various stones of the cemetery. Don sighed and walked over to her somberly. 

Nothing was said as he sat down next to her. He didn’t need to read the name of the stone to guess whose it was. Janice Calvin. His ex-girlfriend and Abby’s mother. 

“You know you scared everyone half to death” he finally stated after a moment. 

“Sorry” the girl replied, looking to her feet. “I should have left a note or something. I just wanted to be alone here for awhile.” 

“Yeah” Don let off a breath just relieved she was okay.

“It’s my sixteenth birthday” Abby muttered, turning back to the stone but still not looking at him. 

“I know I got you a present,” Don replied softly. 

“Mom and me had been planning my sweet sixteen before..” Abby trailed looking to the ground. “It was just going to be the two of us. We were going to cook and have a picnic in our apartment. We couldn't do much because you know we didn’t have a lot of money. But we were going to have each other.” 

“I’m so sorry Abby” Don told her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders hesitantly. “Your mother loved you” 

“I know she did I just- I just miss her” Abby sniffed and for the first time. Don saw his daughter cry. He felt a part of him inside falter. Like something had broken or shifted. 

“I miss her too.” Don explained. “Your mother was an incredible person. And my biggest regret was letting her go” 

“Do you think if she would have stayed- if she would have told you,” Abby questioned. “That things would have been different? That we would have..” The girl trailed but her question was clear. 

“I don’t know Abbs but” Don sighed and finally he understood what his own father had been trying to tell him all this time. “Abby I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’ve missed so much of your life to the point I- I didn’t even know what to get you for your birthday. I just-” he paused biting his lip. “I just feel like we’ve both been living with each other these last few weeks and not actually trying to have a relationship because it’s scary and complicated but Abby.” he sighed “today when dad called and told me you were missing.. I’ve never been more scared in my entire life.” Abby looked up at him as tears streaked down her face. “Now I know your mom loved you and Abby so do I alright?” 

“Alright” she managed but in the next second Abby wrapped her arms around Don’s middle as she broke into sobs. Don just held her in his arms holding back his own tears. 

__________________

Abby POV. 

It was late. After the cemetery Don had called and told everyone that I was safe. I felt bad putting them through all of that. I just hadn’t realized how many people would freak out had I gone missing. I was sitting at my desk in my own room reading one of the books Terry had gotten me quietly. 

There was a knock on my door. I paused in my reading and rose from my chair. Opening it I wasn’t exactly surprised to see my father standing outside. “What?” I inquired with minor annoyance at being disturbed. Though after everything that happened today I didn’t have much energy left to be annoyed. 

“Come on I’ve got a surprise for you” Don replied ignoring my sarcasm. 

“What?” I repeated exasperatedly curious for what this surprise could be. 

“Come on” Don scoffed, ushering me out of my room and toward the living room. I dragged my feet and had to practically be shoved out by my determined father. 

My irritated rebellion ended however as we exited the stairs. The coffee table had been moved and various colorful lights were hanging all around. In the center was a blanket laid out with something like a picnic setting. “Now I know it’s probably not exactly what you and your mom planned but..” Don sighed stepping around to look me in the face as I stared around in awe “Happy Birthday Abby” 

“Thanks D- Don” I replied. Stumbling on the name as the word Dad nearly slipped from my mouth. He smiled and we settled down on the blanket to eat. Talking and laughing and joking. It was a fun night and after all of it I was really happy to have my dad in my life. 

Chapter 2->

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part sixxty three/

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: in honor of our lord and savior Nikki Sixx being born AND cause I got my tickets to the show, here’s a cute saaawwftt chapter before I ruin it :))))) enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated! 

Warnings: ooey gooey fluff, language, drug talk

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @xstarryeyes , @aryssav , @miserablecunt  @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol , @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless @venus-calum, @justjodeye,  @m0rnlngstar, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @slowandangry, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @swoopygorl, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @wheresmyvodkabitch, @waywardprincess666, @duffshairdye @iluvmesomemarvelndc @zoenicoles,@vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer@electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @cranberribread, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe,  @sleepyjunhong @lovemythsworld @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks  @unknownoblivion @siliwanoel @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17, @kellysimagines, @xpoisonousrosesx, @kaitieskidmore1, @oskea93, @love-struck-aries, @idumpyourgrass, @minxtruck, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @xsixxx, @cruesixxlover1991, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @dogmom2014, @sinningsixx, @motleycrueprincess​, 

*Nikki’s POV*

I parked across the street from Vanity’s place. I drove around the block five different times, deciding if I should stop by without asking. I reached for the bouquet of sunflowers and the elephant plush toy that rested in the passenger seat. I was also deciding if I should toss the flowers out the god damn window. Was this to much?

I shook off my thoughts before locking up my car and walking across the street. I pushed through the doors just to see Vanity coming out of the elevator.

“He-hey Van!” I said as it seemed like I had pulled her from her thoughts.

“Nikki-I-what are you doing here?” She asked looking at me as she fumbled through her purse to grab her car keys.

I cleared my throat, “I uh came by to see you and Arianna...here, for you.” I offered her the yellow flowers as she looked at them and then at me.

“I gotta go, I’m running late.” She said, trying to push past me but I followed her out the door, she was walking really fast, almost a jog as I had to keep up with her.

“I overslept and I have to go pick up Ari from school. It’s her last day and she’s out in ten minutes and it takes me twenty minutes to get there.” She explained as she unlocked her car door.

“Can I come with you?” I asked nicely, giving her an award winning smile. She rolled her eyes before getting in the car. I frowned until she unlocked the passenger side door. I slid in and she started driving before the door was even closed.

“I got you flowers. Sunflowers, your uh favorite.” I coughed nervously as she grabbed her sunglasses and put them on before turning up the radio.

“Thanks.” She said quietly before taking them and putting them in the backseat. I glanced over at her, seeing the pale face and circles under her eyes. Wonder if she was on a bender?

“I also got her a pink elephant..I saw she had other animals except for an elephant.” I muttered quietly as she nodded and changed the radio station.

“How are you doing?”

I saw under her sunglasses she looked over at me for a brief second, “I’m fine, you?”

“I’m fine too.”

Vanity exhaled deeply as she turned the radio up louder. I groaned out loud when I realized it was Bon Jovi.

I fucking hate that guy.

Vanity had a smirk imprinted on her lips, “What’s so funny to you?” I questioned as she looked over at me.

“Nothing. Anyways, why were you on your way to my place?” She asked as she dug out a pack of gum taking on for herself before offering a piece to me.

“I don’t know. I was in the neighborhood and I don’t know, guess I just wanted to see you.” She looked over at me, “I mean, see you and Arianna.”

“But you didn’t call?” She clarified as I messed with the bracelet I was wearing.

“Yeah, no, I know. I guess I should have called first...” I mumbled as I reached over to change the radio station, “Do not change it.” She ordered as I slumped back into the chair.

“You look nice...” I told her as she scoffed and looked over at me, “My hairs a mess and I’m dirty leggings because I haven’t caught up on my laundry, Nikki. I look like shit.”

I shook my head and kept my mouth shut the remainder of the drive. Vanity sped through the streets and I’m pretty sure she even ran a stop sign. She pulled up alongside a yellow painted curb and put it in park, “I don’t think you can park here...” I mumbled pointing to the ‘no parking’ sign.

She glared at me, “I park here all the-“ I jumped in the chair when there was a platinum blonde haired women tapping on the window.

Vanity sighed heavily before rolling the window down, “Yes Ginger?”

She smiled at me and then at Vanity, “Good afternoon Vanity, I see you are still parking here.”

“Do you have a tow truck to move my car?”

“Well, Uh no but-“

“Then don’t worry about it.”

Gingers smile faltered for a moment before she quickly regained it, “Are you and Arianna coming to our end of the school year PTA BBQ at the park?”

Vanity sighed in annoyance as she looked over at Ginger, head rested against the seat, “Probably not.”

I smiled at Ginger, “We’re actually going out to lunch when Ari gets out. I just met her and everything so I thought it would be nice and all that.”

I groaned when Vanity backhanded my stomach, “Oh, so you’re her father? I thought it was that one guy who picks her up sometimes...”

“I already told you Jason wasn’t her father, Ginger.” Vanity retorted, rather bitterly, “He just gets her from time to time to be nice..”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Nikki-“ she leaned a bit closer, “Big fan by the way...saw you guys back in ‘87.”

I nodded, “Thanks for that...”

“Well maybe next year Vanity, you’ll be more willing to participate in our activities. I’m sure Arianna would love to hang out with the kids and we’d love to get to know you better.” Ginger continued to explain as Vanity turned up the radio station and rolled up the window.

“Damn V, can’t you play nice with the other kids?” I teased as she hit my chest this time, “What was that for?!” I groaned, rubbing my skin.

“We’re not going out to lunch after this. I’m going home and then you can leave too. I’m not in the mood to deal with you today.”

I chuckled, “Too damn bad.” I looked over at her as she got out of the car when a whole bunch of kids came running out of the building. I saw Arianna smiling and giggling with her little friends, “Mommy!” She ran over to Van as she scooped her up and smothered her cheeks with kisses

“Hi babygirl! I missed you so much did you have a good day!” Van cheered as she looked at with her with a smile full of joy across her lips.

Arianna nodded furiously, “Yes! I colored all day! And I made you this!” She held out a piece of paper with yellow and pink swirls all around, and a lot of glitter.

Vanity gasped, “it is so pretty babe, thank you!” Van looked over at me as she glanced down at Ari, “You remember Nikki right? You met him a few days ago...”

Arianna smiled at me, “Yes, uncle Tommy’s brother.” Van put her down as she showed me her art.

“Pretty fuckin-I mean, it’s really, really neat.” I cleared my throat as Vanity shook her head.

“I think Nikki got you a little present...” She explained as Arianna gasped before peering up at me with a huge grin.

“Oh! Yeah-“ I reached into the car and handed her the stuffed animal, “Do you uh, like it?”

Arianna snatched it from my hands as she examined it from front to back, “I don’t have an Ellie...” she whispered to me as I nodded.

“That’s why I got you one. Everyone needs a pink elephant. Ari, are you hungry?” I questioned, my eyes flickering to Vanity as she just watched us.

“I always have a snack when I get home.” She explained as I knelt down to her height. Vanity nudged Arianna from behind then pointed at the toy, “Thank you Nikki.” Arianna laughed before covering her mouth with her hands.

“Anytime princess, how about we maybe go get i don’t know, candy or something?” I asked her, but also looked up at Vanity as she nodded in return.

“Candy“?!” Arianna exclaimed before grabbing Vanity’s hand, “Please mom! Can we go with Nikki!?”

Between both of us giving her our best pouty dog eyes, I knew she couldn’t say no. Vanity chuckled before opening up the side door, “Get on in there.” Arianna climbed into the car before Vanity buckled her up. When she was done, she closed the door and looked at me.

I grinned, “Sorry...mom.” I laughed as she rolled her eyes, “Just get in and shut up.”

“There’s a candy shop and it’s also a diner and there’s an arcade in it tool. Its over off of-“

 “...Off of  fifth and Lincoln, it’s down the street from my house. Trust me, we go there all the time.”

“It’s like a cute little family date.” I whispered to Van as she ignored me and turned up the radio a little bit louder. I chuckled and turned it down.

“Arianna, what kind of music do you like?” I asked as i heard her giggle, “I dunno...”

“Baby, yeah you do. Who do we like? We like Queen and Kiss and-“ “Guns and uh daisies?”

“Roses...”

“Guns and Roses! And, and we like um Michael! Bowie! And uh...oh! Uncle Tommy’s drums!”

I looked over at Vanity, “She cries when I turn off MTV so she’s exposed to a lot of different music...” she explained as she glanced at Arianna through the mirror.

“Well Ari, you and I like a lot of the same people. Except for Guns and Roses..” i told her as Van looked over and smirked.

“But...but that guys hair is so cool!!” She exclaimed, “You hear that Nik? His hair is so cool.” Vanity teased as I shook my head.

“Nikki has cool hair too sweetie pie. You’ll have to see it one day when he’s playing his guitar alongside Tommy.” Vanity nudged my arm as I smiled a bit.

“His hairs messy...”

“Arianna, be nice.” Vanity spoke sternly. I couldn’t believe my own damn kid was making fun of my hair, “Nikki is famous for his hairstyle.” It took me off guard when Vanity reached over and ran her fingers through it. I felt my whole body tense up when her nails grazed over my scalp.

Good thing for self control or I would have made a mess in my pants.

“It’s not as messy as it use to be or as long, what a shame.” Now I knew she was fucking with me by the tone of her voice and the way she gave my hair a slight tug. She slowly took her hand back and placed it on her lap.

Who new one single fucking touch for her could send the fire ablaze.

Why would she do that? What does that even mean?! Does it even mean anything?! Is she flirting with me?! Or is she teasing me?! What’s the fuckin difference, honestly?

“I guess it’s cool...” Arianna mumbled, “Mommy’s hair looks like yours in the morning.”

I chuckled, “I know it does.”

Vanity pulled alongside the candy shop. We got out of the car as I beat her to Arianna’s door, obviously, “I got it...” I told her as she nodded and took a step back. I unbuckled her from her booster seat and helped her out of the car.

Arianna peered up at me before she grabbed my hand and pulled me along, “Nikki! Walk faster!” She exclaimed, now tugging on my hand with both of hers. Vanity held the door open for us as Arianna started running to the arcade, “We take her here all the time.” Vanity explained as motioned for me to go play with her as she started heading to the bathroom.

“Which one do you want to play, Ari?” I asked as I followed her into the arcade area. She looked back and forth at all the games

She pointed to a game that had two guns and a zombie on it, “That one. Uncle Tommy lets me play it. But shhhh...” She brought her little finger up to her lips, “We can’t tell mommy.”

I glanced over to see Vanity was still in the bathroom, “Okay, fine. But if you have a bad dream blame it on Tommy.”

“I need quarters, Nikki.” She stared up at me and then pointed to the machine, “Oh right. Of course.” I mumbled before putting a five in and getting change.

“I hope you aren’t gonna cry when I kill more zombies then you do.” I told her as I handed her some and she laughed at me.

“I always beat Mommy at other games but that’s because she sucks.”

I watched as she reached for the toy gun and I followed after her, “You have to shoot them in the head! That’s the only way they’ll die, okay?!”

“Okay, sounds reasonable.” I shot one in the head and she gasped, “Wow, you’re good!”

She gasped again, “Except for him!” She pointed to the giant and even uglier zombie, “You have to shoot him everywhere and use the booms!”

“The booms?”

She imitated explosions sounds, “The booms!!”

“Oh! You mean the bombs!” I watched as she dramatically groaned and started shooting at him, I helped her and pushed the button for the booms, I mean the bombs to blow him up.

“Uncle Tommy is always dying first.” She puts down the gun, “Ari the game isn’t finished-“ I stopped talking when she walked away from me, “Okay then...”

“You can pick the next one.” She told me as I nodded and looked around, “Do you want to race?”

She shook her head,

“Claw machine?”

She did it again,

“The uh...rubber ducky game?” I pointed at it as she stared at me, “Air hockey?” I saw her eyes flicker over to the table.

“I’ve never played that. Tommy calls me a shrimp and that I have to wait till I’m taller.” I laughed a bit, I can’t believe Tommy would say that. But then again I could.

“Well maybe your mom can hold you up? Or we can pick something else?” I don’t know why I continued talking as she walked away from me and went over to Vanity who was sitting at a table sipping on a soda. I saw Arianna attempt to explain to Van what was going on as she pointed back at me and the hockey table. Arianna then grabbed Vanity’s hand, tugging on her to come with her.

“You have to hold me so I can play hockey.” She told her as Vanity nodded, “Okay, okay up you go.” Vanity held her, kinda at a lopsided angle so her arms were free to move around freely.

“Ready?”

“Ready, Nikki!”

We gently passed the puck back and forth to one another for a solid five minutes, but Arianna is laughing and smiling and that makes me happy and that makes Van happy, and everything’s okay, “You gotta get it into the slot babe.” Van said as she put her hand on top of Arianna’s and immediately shot the puck into my goal box.

I smirked as I put the puck back on the table, “Mommy isn’t suppose to be playing.” I said, forcefully hitting the puck into their goal box.

Vanity smiled, “I’m just holding her-“ she took control of the handle and smacked in across to me but I blocked it, “That was all Arianna.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure that’s what happened.” I chuckled before tossing the puck in the middle as she put Arianna on the floor, “Mommy, Nikki’s really good at games...you don’t want to loose...”

Vanity looked down at Arianna, “Don’t worry baby I-“ she was cut off when I shot my puck back into her goal box.

“That is cheating!” She grabbed the puck and it hit it towards me , but I blocked it just for me to push it back to her and her to block it. The game went on and on as Arianna watched us. She’d cheer for me and then she’d cheer for Van. I made it in another time as she made it in another two times.

“Ha! I win!” Vanity cheered triumphantly as she got the winning goal and tossed the hockey puck handle down onto the table.

“I let you win.” I corrected her as she scoffed, “Don’t be a sore looser Sixx.” She rubbed it in even more as she shaped her fingers into a ‘L’ on her forehead.

I glared at her as Arianna was doing the same thing as her, “Nice, Van. Really nice.” Vanity chuckled as she held Arianna’s hand.

“You hungry yet, baby?” Van asked her as she shook her head, “Can I get a sticker?” She points to the toy machines.

“Well how about a tattoo? That way you can be like me.” I pointed at one as she immediately put her hand out for more quarters. I gave her some and she put them in before I pushed the lever in for her and out came the design.

“We can do it when we get back home.” I told her as she nodded and showed me, “It’s a flower!” She ecstatically shouted as I nodded. It was a red rose with a thorny stem.

“Mommy, you get one! You don’t have any tattoos!” Vanity and I both looked at one another and she scowled at me as she saw my grin.

I wonder if she still has that ‘property of Mötley Crüe’ tattoo on her ass cheek?

Vanity held her hand out for quarters, “What’s the magic word?” I snorted in laughter as she rolled her eyes, “Nikki, may I please have some quarters?”

“Since you said please...” I gave her a few As she put them in and then grabbed the paper that came out, “Its a butterfly.” Vanity was so unenthusiastic.

“You’d look cute with a little butterfly.” I laughed as she rolled her eyes at me.

“Can I have chicken strips now?” We both looked down at Arianna, “Of course.” Vanity said, holding out her hand for Arianna to take but she brushed her off and grabbed my hand instead.

“Thanks babe. I feel the love.” Vanity muttered as she followed behind us as we walked to the counter.

“Nikki, I get a toy.” She pointed to the sign that accompanied a child’s meal. I nodded, “Yeah of course you’ll get it angel.”

Vanity ordered for Arianna and herself before turning towards me, “He’s paying.” She patted my shoulder before taking the soda cups for Arianna and her and went to fill it up.

I found them sitting at a booth as I slid in and sat across from them. Arianna was staring at me as she sipped through her straw, “Did you get my toy.”

I chuckled, “Yes Princess, I made sure you got it.”

“But I want it now.” She demanded as I was taken back. Vanity looked at me  with an amused smile on her face.

“You’ll get it soon-“ I showed her the receipt, “See that number? We are only a few people away from being called out. You wanna listen to the number for me?”

“No I want my toy.” She pouted as she tried staring me down.

“Well doesn’t that suck for the both of us.” I shook my head, a quiet grunt being forced from me as Vanity kicked my shin.

“I can only count to twenty.” Arianna mumbled as she pointed at the receipt.

I sighed, “Arianna, just wait a few more minutes.”

She started to glare at me, “You’re not the boss of me.”

Oh hell no.

Vanity quickly covered Arianna’s mouth with her hand, “You do not talk to him like that. Behave Arianna, or you won’t get the toy at all.”

Arianna then started pouting even more, “But I want it now…”

Vanity shrugged, “I don’t care if you want it now, you’re going to be patient and wait.”

Vanity gave me a weak smile, “Sorry, she’s a bit of a brat sometimes.” she explained as she combed her fingers through Arianna’s hair.

I smirked, “Just like mommy.”

“And you gotta keep her happy or she will freak out like mommy.” Vanity laughed as Arianna pushed her hand away from her head.

“Quit pouting.” I’m guessing that was Vanity’s mom voice as she lowered her mouth down to Arianna’s ear and she nodded, “Sorry…”

After lunch, we arrived back at Vanity’s place. I made a funny face towards arianna as I helped her out of her car seat again. She laughed and crawled out as she started running towards the steps.

“Now she’s gonna be crazy all afternoon until she crashes.” Vanity chuckled as I reached for the sunflowers and handed it to her. She deeply exhaled before smiling, “Thank you Nikki, they’re pretty.”

“Anything for you princess.” I followed behind the girls as we walked inside.

“Oh miss Blackwood! You have a delivery!” The woman at the front desk spoke as he grabbed a huge white vase that was filled with at least two dozen red roses.

“A very handsome man dropped these off for you.” She explained as Vanity smiled widely

“Wow! These are absolutely gorgeous!” Vanity cheered as she put the flowers I got her off to the side and touched the petals of the elegant roses. I watched as she plucked a card from the top of them, reading it as her smile grew.

“A secret admirer?” The concierge questioned

Vanity shook her head, “No, my boyfriend sent them to make up for our fight the other night. Nikki could you carry these for me?” She asked, giving me a sweet smile.

Through gritted teeth, “Of course.” I picked them up, every fiber in my being to not lash out verbally. If Arianna wasn’t standing next to me I probably would have said something along lines of your arms ain’t fuckin broken.

I followed behind Vanity, the roses completely blocking my view as I stepped into the elevator with her and Ari.

“Those are so beautiful.” Vanity swooned over them, “They look so fresh.” She smiles as I forced one.

“Yeah, the dude has great taste.” My voice was monotone as I downplayed my eye roll. He had a shit taste in flowers, wonderful taste in women.

We stepped out of the elevator as I followed Vanity to her front door, she unlocked it for me and I set them down on the counter, “No, no on the table.” Vanity ordered as I glared at the back of her head. I did what she said anyways.

“Can I watch cartoons?” Arianna asked Van as she nodded and turned the TV on for her. I watched as Arianna climbed onto the couch and wrapped herself up in a blanket.

“Well thanks for lunch.” Vanity said as she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her hoodie, leaving her in a tiny little tank top. I guess it’s a bit nipply in here, I mean nippy.

I averted my eyes to the photo frames on the wall, “Yeah, uh anytime.” I cleared my throat and pointed at the sunflowers, “I think those need water.”

I sat down at the table as she grabbed a vase and filled it up with water before coming back over to the table and standing in front of me.

“Since it’s summer time and you’re gonna be here for a while or whatever, we should teach Arianna how to swim. She was terrified of the pool last year, wanted nothing to do with it.” Vanity suggested as I nodded.

“Yeah, got you over your fear of water So I’m sure I could do the same with Ari.” I assured as she smiled, “Okay, good.”

I tapped my fingertips against the table as I watched her straighten up a bit before she went over to her answering machine.

One new message:

“Good afternoon Vanity, it is Dr. Watson, haven’t heard from you in a while so I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I have a few openings this week if you would like to come in for a session. Give the office a call if you would like to schedule an appointment. Hope you have a wonderful day.”

“Therapist?” I muttered under my breath as she looked over at me and nodded.

Message deleted.

One new message:

“Hey baby, it’s Jason-“

I exhaled deeply as I glared at the roses in front of me.

“-I am very sorry for my behavior the other night. In no way did I mean to upset you or cause harm. I dropped off some roses for you a little while ago , I really hope you like them. I miss you and I can’t stop thinking about you. Just give me a call whenever you get this, alright? Bye babe.”

Message deleted.

“A real charmer.” I laughed as Vanity sighed and came over and sat across from me at the table.

“He’s a nice guy Nikki.”

I rolled my eyes at her statement, “The dude called you a whore Vanity. Plus he’s constantly giving you crap to shove up your nose, he isn’t nice.”

Vanity shook her head, “You’ve done those things too…” She mumbled as I shook my head before running my hand over my face.

“I’m nothing like Jason, and you know that Vanity.” Her eyes flickered to me as I saw the wheels turning in her head, but nothing malicious fell from those pretty pink lips of hers. I sighed as I relaxed in the chair, “How’d you meet him?”

She shrugged, “Met him at a club one night then met him again when I started working at the strip joint a little while after that.”

I furrowed my eyebrows together as I looked down at my rings and messed with them, “Have you always done drugs with him?”

She sighed, “Nikki-“

I cut her off, “I just want to know.” My voice was almost a whisper as she nodded.

“Yeah, always. Constantly. I don’t think I’ve ever been sober while being with him-“ She looked at me, bottom lip between her teeth, “When I first met him, he stuck a needle full of blow into my arm. He didn’t force me to do it, I wanted too.”

I felt my stomach twist into knots. I felt like I was going to throw up knowing she had picked up a needle, yeah it wasn’t Persian, but still. It fucking hurt.

I scooted the chair back loudly against the hardwood floor as I got up and quickly wrapped my hand around her elbow, extending her arm out to me, “So this explains the bruises and the little prick marks.” I snarled through gritted teeth as I towered over her. She tried taking her arm away from my grip but I held on.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, V?” I whispered angrily at her as she shook her head, “You have such a perfect fuckin body and you’re gonna ruin it by doing this to yourself.”

“…it’s not-“ I raised an eyebrow, “It’s what? Not all the time?” I smirked in her face as I slowly let go of her arm, “Are you really going to tell me, a junkie that?”

She shook her head and looked over at Arianna who was engrossed in whatever she was watching, “I have it under control, Nikki. I am fine.”

I would have been stupid to believe her, “You get check up calls from your therapist and you truly want me to believe you are fine? Vanity, I don’t give a shit that you don’t wanna hear it but I still care about you so god damn much.” I confided as she nodded.

“I’m fine Nikki. Really. I’m good.”

You’re definitely not all good doll.

*a few days later, Vanity’s POV*

“Yep, I’m all good. Haven’t had too much happen to me. Still using but I have it controlled. I’m good, I’m happy.”

I was currently sitting across from Dr. Watson as I decided to take her up on the offer of having a quick therapy session.

“Happy?” Dr Watson asked, “What has changed since a month ago? Because a month ago you were sitting across from me crying and hyperventilating and having a bloody nose from your drug use.”

I looked at her, “Well, I’m okay. I don’t know if I’m happy but I feel happy.”

“When was the last time you used? Did you go to any drug counseling classes like I had suggested?”

I shook my head, “No I haven’t, and last night at work, or this morning or whatever.”

I leaned forward and grabbed a handful of pretzels that were sitting in a crystal bowl on the table, “So, I have really big news. I don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

Dr Watson gave me a look, silently saying to continue as I sighed, “So, Nikki is in the city. And I ran into him and we already met up and I told him about Arianna and he met her, but we haven’t told her that he’s her dad so we introduced him as uncle Tommy’s brother and all three of us hung out the other day and we had lunch together and went to this little arcade and it was actually a lot of fun.”

Dr Watson raised her eyebrows in surprise, “This…this is wonderful! Vanity! This is such great progress!” She scribbled down notes on her notepad as she smiled at me.

“Is it? Because I don’t know how I feel about it.” I mumbled as I cracked my knuckles, “He keeps trying to talk about what happened and I don’t want too.”

“Well why not?”

I shrugged, “I’m not ready to talk about it. And I don’t know if I could talk about it without screaming and throwing a fit…he almost told me he still loves me when we went to get coffee, but I stopped him from saying it.”

She went to talk but I cut her off, “because I don’t understand how he still could love me after doing that, ya know? Like how could you say you love someone after dragging them through the dirt like that? I think he’s just lonely because he’s divorcing Brandi.”

“He’s divorcing her?” I nodded, “Yeah, she lied to him about wanting to get pregnant and was still taking her birth control. It’s totally dramatic, almost like a bad soap opera.”

She hummed, “Well, hows he doing with Arianna?” I smiled, “Way better then I expected, she really likes him I think. She keeps asking when we can hang out with him again. Between you and me, I think she already knows he’s her father. The bond was instantly there the moment they met. But I’m not sure how to approach her with it. Do I just tell her Nikki’s her dad?”

“Kids are very smart, even from a young age. I would suggest a few more dates with-“

“They aren’t dates.”

Dr Watson chuckled a bit, “Okay, well whatever you want to call them. I suggest a bit more of them before you tell her. I wouldn’t get all technical with it either. Just get straight to the point.”

“Do you still love him?” I glanced over at her and stared for a solid minute.

“I-I don’t know. It’s nice to be around him again, but I, I just don’t know.” I confessed as she nodded.

“Well, how about you come back next week?” She reaches across and held out a white card for me to take.

I nodded, “Of course. Thank you Dr. Watson.” I gave her a kind smile before I left her office and walked to my car.

I sat in the drivers seat for a moment, keys in hand as I stared out the window. Did I still love Nikki? That’s a pretty loaded question to be asking me. Sure, it’s nice to see and laugh with him and see him and Arianna bonding, but I wouldn’t jump the gun and just spew out I love yous to him.

The heartache and turmoil was still there every time he pops up and is smiling in my face. Every time those sweet little remarks have fallen off his lips the last few encounters, it was like a knife being driven through my body in one swift motion.

Nikki Sixx had given me three things in my life: wonderful, irreplaceable memories. Our daughter who is just the gift that keeps on giving and a lifetime of brutal, heart wrenching, excruciating pain.

[bandyisdandy]

Persona 4 Golden - The Rainbow Connection (2/10/21)

Anyone who knows me within the space of gaming knows that my favorite game of all time is arguably Persona 5 Royal. The game just oozes personality and fun from the get-go. It is easy enough to pick up and check out, but also deep enough to keep you engaged for hours upon hours, hungering for more even after the credits roll on your 80 to 120 hour experience. Saying this, I also have to admit that, while it is the fifth entry in the franchise, I had never played another Persona before vanilla 5. Whenever hardcore players of the series I met over the years heard this, they insisted I play 3 and/or 4 before I go on saying that 5/Royal is my favorite in the franchise. This past January, I decided to finally pull the trigger and check out Persona 4 Golden on Steam. After playing the game for about 70 hours, I defeated the true final boss and finally put the controller down for a bit. All I can say is... what a god damn magical experience this was.

Persona 4 is a JRPG (Japanese Role-playing Game) that puts you in control of Yu, a high schooler living in the middle of Tokyo who is moving in to the country with his police officer uncle and young cousin while his parents go away for a year on business. While there, you meet a young man named Yosuke and a girl named Chie who tell you about a mysterious phenomenon known as the Midnight Channel that shows up when a heavy fog rolls into town and the clock strikes midnight. One night, while viewing this phenomenon, a girl appears in the screen who looks an awful lot like a senior to the students at their school. The next day, her corpse is found strung up on a telephone pole, baffling the police due to the fact that a similar death took place around the time of Yu’s arrival. While investigating the murder of their senior, Yu and Yosuke discover they can enter a special television at a department store, where they meet Teddie, a living teddy bear who can lead them through the fog-dense world within the TV. Upon finding a space where their senior once was, they fight beings known as Shadows and awaken Persona, living embodiments of their fighting spirit as well as their own belief and acceptance of themselves in order to do combat with the Shadows. After their victory, they figure out that someone pushed the upperclassman into the world within the television and the Midnight Channel prophesizes the deaths of those who appear on it. Using this knowledge, Yu and Yosuke continue to make friends, investigate the case, and do their best to uncover the culprit before a year is up and Yu must return home.

... That seems like a lot, right? Well, crazily enough, that is probably the first 5 hours or so at most, and there is another 65+ to go in your first playthrough. Now, this game, at first, is a tough sell especially if you are like me and played 5/Royal first as those games have spoiled our perceptions of what the franchise is and can be. Persona 4 Golden is definitely a step down visually as well as design and music-wise in comparison to 5. It just does not have the same substance that game does and the gameplay, in comparison, feels a bit dated here. The Shadows you encounter in 5′s dungeons are also the enemies you actually fight this time around and the Tarot Card system makes collecting and recruiting Persona much more annoying than the way 5 handles it in combat. However, while it sounds like I am being quite harsh on the game, in reality, this is by and far one of the best JRPGs I have ever played and cannot be recommended by me more. Since I got all the negatives out of the way, let’s look at the heaps of praise I have for this triumph of a game.

First and foremost, what really sets this game above and beyond a lot of others, maybe even doing this better in many respects than Persona 5/Royal, is the characters. Every character is just so damn interesting, and really adds so much charm to what is already a rather charming game. They bring the story as well as the countryside town you now find yourself in that much brighter and bigger. Each one has goals, values, idealizations, and realizations that flesh them out more than most games I have played, all of them having incredibly satisfying conclusions to their stories. Some stand outs for me are your young cousin Nanako, who is lonely due to her father always working as a police officer and her mother passing away in a car accident a few years prior to the start of the game, Kanji Tatsumi, a punk who uses violence and fear to mask his incredibly soft, caring side that enjoys arts and crafting more than he would care to admit, and Naoto Shirogane, a young detective hiding her femininity in order to find power and prestige in the world of private investigation which, in Japan especially, is a male dominated field - these are just some of the memorable characters you will meet. I am currently doing a second playthrough and have already met two characters I never encountered in my first playthrough that are honestly becoming some of my favorites in the series! Building relationships (yes, even romantic ones with your female classmates) is key to not only finding out more about them, but also key to getting stronger, unlocking abilities and weapons for you to use in your playthrough that will seriously make the game not only easier but I would go as far as to say more fun in regards to what possibilities open up to you in combat. Growing the bond between you and your friends within your party is also the only way to strengthen and evolve their Persona to bigger and better forms, making combat flow easier but also giving one a true sense of power, purpose and meaning in the memories you create with Yosuke and the gang.

The other thing that really made me fall in love with Persona 4 Golden is its story and location. While the bustling cityscape of Tokyo and Shibuya really makes Persona 5 and Royal feel big and grandiose in its vision of what a modern JRPG can be, Persona 4 Golden, while feeling smaller in comparison, feels much more unique and, weirdly enough, nostalgic - at least for me. The town of Inaba is small with little to do at first, but it still has some beautiful and honestly quite intriguing sights to see (I’m looking at you, Greedy Shrine Fox). As you become more accustomed to the town and what it offers, it surprises you and opens up even more based on your time within the game, the weather outside, and even the time of the day you are out and about exploring. I grew up in a small town outside of Boston and while it’s not exactly like Inaba, the parts I spent most of my days remind me of it - areas covered in trees near streams with small restaurants and bars nearby, nature trails to walk, seeing mostly the same people each and every day - it really sent me back to life growing up when I was the age of the characters and truly made the game something memorable and instantly connected me to what was happening. As for the plot, I am a sucker for a murder mystery - I love true crime and have always loved police or detective shows growing up. Being able to work towards a case and have your decisions, investigations, and choices up to certain points have merit and weight behind them in regards to what ending you get is absolutely amazing and really sets the tone for a game that shrouds you in mystery and keeps you at the edge of your seat at all times, all the while still finding the time to help you enjoy the ride with laughter, tears, and dialogue that just really gets to you from beginning to end, sticking with you even after you’ve beaten it. Throw in some seriously fantastic boss fights, great music, and top notch voice acting for the time and it all adds up to a package with so much content and so much to tell you along the way that you just can’t help but keep playing until you absolutely have to put it down, only to continue for hours and hours later on.

All in all, Persona 4 Golden is a seriously fun game. While I still think Persona 5 Royal is a better game than it, I cannot stop thinking about the journey it took me on. The places I saw, the people I met and became friends with along the way - it’s a surreal, dream-like game that really gets you thinking right from the beginning and keeps you on your toes until the bitter end. I found myself engrossed in the lives of these characters, worried for them anytime something happened to them within the context of the game’s narrative and only hopes to see them come out on top, and thankfully this was usually the case in my playthrough thanks to the choices I made. I can only wonder what would have happened if I chose things differently - where would my characters have ended up at the end of all this? Would things have gotten worse for them? Who knows - all I know is that once the game was over, I had nothing but smiles and happiness going through my head as I saw my friends say goodbye and I loaded up my stuff onto the train. All those precious moments, etched into my mind forever; the hardships of the dungeons, the toughness of the Shadows, the mystery of the killer - that’s how you create a great game narrative, and finish it with an even greater, satisfying ending. Check out Persona 4 Golden on Steam TODAY if you liked this review! https://store.steampowered.com/agecheck/app/1113000/

[saiilorstars]

Stars Dance

Ch. 13: The Writer

Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: 11th Doctor x Original Female Character

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Chapter summary: The Doctor and Avalon get thrown out of the TARDIS and are forced to stay with Craig Owens, a man who can't seem to figure out what he was literally has right in front of him. At the same time, the Doctor finally learns what has been preventing Avalon from finding peace in her sleep. 

(Previous chapters)

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

The TARDIS materialized in a modern day city of London, unbeknownst to the trio inside. Avalon hurried up to the doors with a long, shoulder brown bag dangling on her side. She was expecting something grand as the Doctor promised but when she poked her head out, all she saw a boring old park. "Oh, nope not that fifth moon of whatever," she called and hopped onto the grass.

"It's the fifth moon of Sinda Callista," the Doctor corrected as he headed for the doors.

Avalon scoffed, "You do realize how terrible your piloting skills are, right? I keep telling you that you need to teach me so that I can one day teach that River Song woman."

"The day I do that is the day pigs will fly," he poked his head out and looked around, "Is that a Ryman's?" he blinked.

"I should punch you," Avalon muttered.

However, a blast from inside pushed the Doctor forwards. Avalon stepped to the side in time and watched him fall to the ground with a small laugh, "That's what you get," she teased. "I bet the TARDIS agreed with me!"

The Doctor groaned on the ground, about to believe that once again his TARDIS chose to side with Avalon, when the doors shut abruptly. Avalon blinked in surprise and even more so when the box began dematerializing.

"Amy!" the Doctor shouted as he sat up, "Amy!"

"What's going on?" Avalon frowned and put a hand in the air where the TARDIS had just been in, "Why'd it just...go? Is Amy alright?" she looked down at the Doctor, the man confused as much as she was.

~ 0 ~

"Are you sure this is the house, Amy?" Avalon was asking as she hurried down the street, speaking to her friend through an ear piece the Doctor had come up with earlier to communicate with her in the TARDIS.

"Yes, that's the place," Amy answered, "Now hurry please and get me out of here!"

It seemed like something nonhuman was preventing the TARDIS from making a proper landing and therefore was keeping Amy inside. The Doctor had found its origins in a flat owned by a Craig Owens. They'd found an advert in a shop with a note saying to go to that flat, written by Amy apparently. But, the Doctor being himself wanted to go straight to the house and pose as lodgers. Avalon reminded him that they needed money and would therefore go to take out some money from her account. And being impatient as usual, he went first to the flat while Avalon went to take out money. She only hoped that he hadn't ruined it for them yet.

Avalon knocked on the door of the designated flat and waited for someone to answer. Eventually, a man with brown hair and blue eyes opened up, and by the face he had Avalon could tell the Doctor had already made his usual impression.

"Hi," Avalon politely smiled, "I'm-"

"Ginger hair," Craig mumbled.

And immediately Avalon went into a fit of irritation, "Is that how that stupid bow-tie, floppy haired man introduced me?"

"And there's the temper," Craig nodded.

Avalon frowned even deeper, "DOCTOR!" she shouted and went inside.

The Doctor casually came out of the living room and smiled, "Avalon, nice of you to make it."

Avalon controlled herself from strangling him right there and then, "You introduced me how?"

"Just the basics," the Doctor shrugged, not even realizing how much worse that made it for her.

"You introduced me as the temperamental, ginger haired woman?" Avalon's mouth dropped, not sure whether to feel more angry or be hurt. But if it was true, which she knew it was, why would it 'hurt' to be introduced like that? Lots of people used to do that back in Leadworth. Why was it such a big deal now? And upon coming to an inconclusive answer, she let the entire thing go and simply cleared her throat and turned to Craig, basically starting all over again, "Hi, my name is Avalon Reynolds," she extended her hand and waited for it to be shaken.

"Craig Owens..." the man slowly shook her hand, being cautious not to upset her again.

"Um, I'm with him," Avalon gestured to the Doctor, "Heard about the room...um, we've got money to cover the month," she picked up her purse and took out a paper bag, "Here you go," she handed it to Craig.

"Yeah, but I was explaining to him that...I only just put the advert today," Craig was eyeing them oddly, probably suspicious which Avalon couldn't blame him for.

"I shop a lot," was her excuse, "Saw the advert myself and told him about it."

"Yes, so...who lives upstairs?" the Doctor had been staring up at the door of the second level. Avalon followed his gaze and found it creepy with the flickering light bulb.

"Just some bloke," Craig answered, still eyeing them.

"What does he look like?" the Doctor asked.

"Normal. He's very quiet," Craig said and soon after they heard a loud bang from upstairs.

"Sure about that?" Avalon raised an eyebrow.

Without another word, the Doctor entered the living room again, much to Craig's irritation as the man seemed to like wandering about in a place that hadn't even been rented to him yet.

"Excuse me!?" Craig went to follow him in.

Avalon sighed and entered the living room afterwards. She saw the Doctor once more looking up and followed it to a corner of the ceiling where a stain was prominently set. "Is that...dry rot?" she guessed, not entirely sure it was even close. To anyone else it might seem like a normal stain, herself included, but knowing that there was something alien in this house was a bit of a cheat.

"Or damp. Or mildew," Craig shrugged.

"Or none of the above," the Doctor mumbled.

"I'll get someone to fix it," Craig waved it off and turned to the pair.

"No, I'll fix it. I'm good at fixing rot," the Doctor began, "Call me the Rotmeister. No, I'm the Doctor, don't call me the Rotmeister..."

"Before you say something more stupid-" Avalon turned and looked around, "-this is the most beautiful parlor I have ever seen, you're obviously a man of impeccable taste, Craig," she complemented and walked around a bit, "Not many men can manage living on their own and still have a nice house. I mean, the only reason my house was clean was because I cleaned it. My dad is lovely and all but he was not a cleaning man, much less my brother," she rolled her eyes, "So kudos to you, really," she smiled, "Can we stay?"

"You haven't even seen the room," Craig felt the need to point out.

"The room?" the Doctor repeated, not quite there yet.

"He means the room we'd be staying in," Avalon sighed and walked up to Craig, taking charge of the situation, "Can we see it, then?"

"Uh, right," Craig nodded and walked back into the hallway.

"Take us to our room!" the Doctor cheerfully exclaimed. Avalon looked back at him and stared for a moment, "What?" he frowned.

"You are really lucky that box of yours can serve as a home because quite frankly...you stink at being human," she shook her head and led them into the hallway where Craig awaited them by the door of the room they'd be taking.

He unlocked it for them and opened the door to reveal a simple room with a bed in the center, pushed up against the wall, wardrobe pieces set around with a couch chair at the far end. Craig allowed Avalon and the Doctor in first while he explained the details, "Yeah, this is Mark's old room, he owns the place, moved out about a month ago. An uncle he'd never even heard of died and left a load of money."

The Doctor was testing the bed while looking around, "How very convenient. This'll do just right. In fact..." but he stopped when they heard more noise upstairs.

"We'll take it," Avalon said quietly as she looked up.

The Doctor stood up and pulled out his psychic paper, "You'll want to see our credentials," and he started listing each as he swapped the paper from hand to hand behind his back, "There...National Insurance number... NHS number... References..."

"Is that a reference from the Archbishop of Canterbury?" Craig pointed as the Doctor put away the psychic paper.

"I'm his special favorite," the Doctor informed casually and put a finger to his lips, "Are you hungry? I'm hungry."

"I haven't got anything in," Craig said but the Doctor was already halfway out the room.

"Believe me that won't stop him," Avalon shrugged and went after the Doctor.

The Doctor was raiding the fridge and cabinets as if it really were his home, "You've got everything I need for an omelette fines herbes! Pour deux!" he cheered and started to cook, "So who's the girl on the fridge?"

Avalon looked at the fridge and saw a picture of Craig and a blonde, blue-eyed, woman set on the top door. Alright, so maybe he did notice some things...

"My friend. Sophie," Craig said.

"Girlfriend?" Avalon asked.

"A friend who is a girl. There's nothing going on."

Avalon narrowed her eyes with an amused smile, "Okay," she sarcastically said.

"We met at work about a year ago at the call center," Craig hadn't even noticed the look of Avalon as he was still staring at the picture.

"Oh, really, a communications exchange?" the Doctor mused, "That could be handy."

"Firm's going down though. The bosses are using a totally rubbish business model. I know what they should do, I got a plan all worked out, but I'm just a phone drone, I can't go running in saying I know best," Craig suddenly stopped and stared at the pair, "Why am I telling you this? I don't even know you."

"I've got one of those faces. People never stop blurting out their plans while I'm around," the Doctor shrugged.

"He wishes," Avalon scoffed and went into the fridge, feeling hungry herself but not in the mood for omelettes.

"Right, where's your stuff?" Craig asked.

"Don't worry, it'll materialize, if all goes to plan," the Doctor looked around.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor and Craig sat down in the living room after finishing up their food, Craig surprised by the talent of the Doctor had for cooking, "Oh, that was incredible! That was absolutely brilliant. Where did you learn to cook?"

"Paris, in the 18th century," the Doctor said without thinking then shook his head, "No, hang on, that's not recent, is it? 17th? No, no, no, 20th. Sorry, I'm not used to doing them in the right order."

"Stop talking before you really ruin it," Avalon joined them holding a bottle of yogurt in her hands. She managed to find it all the way in the back of the fridge.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a bit weird?" Craig had to ask. Avalon seemed far more normal which then made him question how the two worked together.

"They never really stop," the Doctor shrugged. Avalon gave him his credit for not being fazed by the question. "Ever been to Paris, Craig?"

"Nah, I can't see the point of Paris. I'm not much of a traveler."

"I can tell from your sofa," the Doctor gestured, Avalon wondering where the hell he was going to take that.

"My sofa?" Craig repeated, confused.

"You're starting to look like it."

"I have half a mind to throw this at you," Avalon sighed as she played with her spoon in her yogurt, "But I'm hungry so I'll settle for this," she whacked the Doctor's arm. The Doctor still didn't seem to understand what she was so upset over, Craig didn't seem upset. He was laughing.

"Thanks, mate, that's lovely! No, I like it here..." Craig seemed to get distant as he fondled a bright pink key chain in his hand, "I'd miss it, I'd miss..."

"Whoever owns those keys, I'm assuming," Avalon stared with amusement as she moved over to sit on the long couch with Craig.

"What?" Craig snapped out of his nearlike trance.

"You're fondling the key chain," the Doctor pointed.

"I'm holding them."

Avalon quietly scoffed, "Right."

"Anyway..." Craig stood up and walked to a table by the entrance of the room to grab some keys, "These are your keys."

"We can stay?" the Doctor stood up and went to take the keys.

"Hooray," Avalon gave a pretend cheer and continued to eat her yogurt on the couch.

"Yeah, you're weird," Craig began but was cut off by Avalon clearing her throat.

"Him," she pointed at the Doctor without looking back, "He is weird."

Craig chuckled while the Doctor rolled his eyes, "And you can cook, it's good enough for me," Craig continued then held up each key and explained its function, "Right, outdoor, front door, your door."

"Ha-ha! Yes! Me with a key!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"Oh boy, that can't go right," Avalon mumbled to herself.

"And listen, Mark and I, we had an arrangement where if you ever need me out of your hair, just give me a shout, OK?" Craig said quieter to the Doctor, nodding over to Avalon and winking.

The Doctor, not understanding, winked back, "Why would I want that?"

"In case you and your girlfriend want some time alone, I don't know..."

And then they heard Avalon coughing loudly from the couch, "Sorry," she stood up and scarfed down the yogurt in her mouth, "Sorry, we're not…" but she continued to cough. Before she made a further fool of herself, she rose to her feet, "It's not like that," she pointed at Craig and went for the kitchen to throw away her yogurt.

"Is she okay?" Craig asked.

The Doctor, who was also in a fit of blushes, averted the human's eyes and instead focused on the stain on the ceiling, clearing his throat, "I've got the strangest feeling we shouldn't touch it."

"Wasn't planning on it..." Craig looked back at it for a minute, seeing no relevant point of the stain. And when he looked to the Doctor he saw the man was gone. That was odd, then again the Doctor was odd as a person.

~ 0 ~

Avalon was returning to Craig's flat holding her journal in her hands, her long purse hanging on her shoulder. She'd taken a day out with her journal, going through every last page she'd ever written on to see just how many blank spaces there were. It had taken her all day but she'd finally come to the conclusion that she had forgotten something entirely big, something that had messed with her head. She entered the flat and quietly walked to the room designated hers, stopping a moment as she heard Craig speaking to someone over the phone in his room, assuming it was that Sophie woman again. She shook her head and entered her room just as the Doctor was heading out.

"Where are you going?" she asked, confused.

"I've got to go gather things for a makeshift scanner!" he cheered.

"Right, okay," she ignored it and walked further into the room, "Have you talked to Amy yet?"

"She's um...doing alright," the Doctor winced, preferring not to tell her about the TARDIS jolting poor Amy around each time there was a 'time loop' which originated from their upstairs roommate.

"By the way, there was something odd I saw at the park," Avalon let her purse fall on the bed, "People kept repeating themselves, like, um..."

"A time loop," the Doctor sighed.

"Yeah, what...what's that exactly?"

The Doctor pointed up and made Avalon look up, "Lovely gift from our roomie," the Doctor said, "The earpiece protects you from it. Don't take it off."

"I won't," she assured and opened her journal, hearing the Doctor begin to head out again, "Fairy tale man, can we...can we talk for a moment?" she turned to him, her journal still in hands.

"Oh, this is serious," the Doctor noticed the ginger's face. She rolled her eyes but let him have this one.

"Look, I don't know...maybe it's just me...I don't..." she bit her lip, the words were beginning to get strained. She didn't like asking for help, she never asked for help. It was who she was; asking for help meant she couldn't take care of herself and her problems.

"Avalon," the Doctor noticed the severity of what ever was she was trying to say and so he closed the door and walked over to her, "It's okay," he cautiously put a hand on her back, "You can tell me."

But Avalon sighed and shook her head, dropping her journal on the bed, "No, I can't. Forget this, forget I ever mentioned, I just..." she closed her eyes and rubbed the side of her head, "I'm tired."

"You are," the Doctor agreed.

He had grown worried to full blown morbidly concerned with her lack of sleep. Insomnia was one thing for humans but Avalon seemed to never want to sleep. He'd was tempted to simply knock her out and force her to sleep but then he would think of the big temper she'd throw after waking up and realizing what he'd done. He was not prepared for that kind of anger.

"I'm just...confused," Avalon mumbled, "There's things that don't make sense and with the lack of sleep I'm probably just making a big deal out of nothing," she pushed her journal and purse to the side.

That was also another possibility, she thought. Amy had also pointed that out and it could very well be true. Avalon couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten decent sleep. The lack of sleep could be making her over think the blank spaces in her journal.

"Look, why don't you lie down for a minute and I don't know...sleep?" the Doctor suggested ever-so-casually.

"Yeah, that...that doesn't sound so bad," Avalon admitted, "But don't you need help gathering the, um...what was it that you were going to get?"

"You leave that to me," the Doctor said and walked her to a side of the bed, "You just sleep, please."

"Okay, I get the memo," Avalon sat down, "I'm slowly losing it. I'll try to sleep, but...please stay out of trouble."

"I will...genuinely, try my best."

Avalon smiled and shook her head, "Please do. I don't want to get a call from the local police station. Although, it would be different being on the receiving end of the call this time," she mused of how odd it would be to be the good person for once.

"Try to get sleep, alright?" the Doctor said as she laid down, "I'll be back..." he trailed off as the ginger had her eyes closed and practically on the verge of sleep.

He sighed and quietly walked to the door, making sure to close it as quietly as possible. He looked up at the door at the top of the staircase while he backed to the entrance door of the flat. He didn't feel very comfortable leaving Avalon on her own, asleep, with the an unknown evil entity. He'd rather she come with him but he would also prefer for her to actually get some sleep. The only thing he could do now was hurry up and get back as fast as possible.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor kept true to his word and returned a mere hour and a half later...with a trolley filled different objects he'd found from random trash bins in the streets. He was being extra careful not to make any noise for Avalon as he entered their room. He closed the door and looked over at Avalon, disappointed to find her fussing in her sleep. By the looks of it, she was having a dream. He left the trolley and started walking for her when he spotted her journal and purse on the floor, probably knocked off by her fuss. He bent down and picked up the opened journal, about to shut it when he noticed empty spaces in the middle of her writing. He made sure not to read any lines for her privacy. He too had books about himself that he never wanted anyone to see and so he followed the same expectations with Avalon's journal. He shut it and looked at the cover. It was a dark brown leather bound journal that looked old and tattered. It bore Avalon's initials on lower bottom 'A.H .R.' and was covered in stickers he assumed she'd posted as a child. He smiled only for a moment before Avalon screamed and sat right up, scaring him enough to drop the journal.

"No! No! No! No!" Avalon was in actual sobs as she repeatedly swatted invisible things on her neck, "Get off me!"

The Doctor hurriedly moved on the bed to calm her down, trying to catch her swatting hands as she continued to shout in terror, "Avalon! Avalon it's me!" he tried to say but she was too much in a frantic mode to listen.

"No! No! Get off me! Get off me!" she sobbed with her eyes shut, "Please!"

"AVA!" the Doctor finally shouted in a louder tone that overpowered Avalon's.

She stopped and opened her eyes, breathing rapidly and heavily, and finally took a look around to see where she was again. She was in the flat, yes, she remembered now. She tried to sleep again...and had another nightmare. Again.

"It's okay now," the Doctor whispered, watching her eyes flicker from one thing in the room to another in such fear it actually pained him. Was that...was that normal?

"I'm sorry," her breath hitched as she spoke, "I...I had a dream..."

"Nightmare," he corrected, "And I'm guessing that's the reason behind your sleepless nights," she nodded and he recalled the other nights she'd appeared in the kitchen with more or less of the same appearance she had now, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"N-no," she managed to say.

"I bet another reason you can't sleep is because you've been bottling this up to yourself," he sighed, "You can tell me, I've had plenty experience with nightmares."

"You have?" Avalon sniffled, hating how she must look to the Doctor at the moment. Her face was covered in tears and her hair was (and felt) like a mess. This was not how she ever wanted anyone to see her. She was Avalon, the girl who never cried. What was she doing?

"Yes, I have had terrible nightmares in my life," the Doctor sighed. He never told Avalon nor Amy what exactly happened with the rest of the Time Lords and Gallifrey, only that there'd been a war and they'd lost. He didn't want them to fear him nor look at him any different. He supposed that was probably selfish of him to let them believe he was a good man but...he just couldn't find it in him to actually sit down and tell the gingers what had happened.

"What about?" Avalon asked and wiped some tears off her face.

"Nothing you need to know about right now," the Doctor waved it off, "But you need sleep, Avalon. Now I would really like to know how to help you but I can't do anything unless I know what the problem is. Have some trust in me, Ava. I promise not a word about this will leave my mouth."

Avalon looked at him for a good minute as she pondered what he would think of her after she told him what kept her up every night.

"Trust in me, Ava," the Doctor insisted.

He knew that nickname was something she used with Rory but after visiting Mary Costa, the name had simply stuck as the name of Avalon's professional debut. He saw it as the moment their relationship had grown into actual friendship.

"It's about Venice..." Avalon suddenly said, her eyes looking down as if in shame.

"What about Venice?"

"It's, um..." she sniffled, "...I can't..." she quickly closed her eyes, "...it's hard to, um..."

"If it's too hard to say, you could just show me," the Doctor suggested as he saw the heavy struggle Avalon was in to utter a word about her nightmares.

"H-how?" Avalon looked up to see him holding his fingers to motion a telepathic exchange. With a sigh, Avalon she nodded and allowed him to place his fingers on her temples.

"I won't look at anything, just show me your dreams," the Doctor instructed.

"Okay," she swallowed hard and closed her eyes, doing just what he asked.

Immediately, the Doctor saw her nightmare...different moments in which she had been bitten and fed on by the Saturnynes. His hearts broke to see her so terrified and defenseless against them. He'd heard that Avalon never showed fear for the sake of Lena so she always kept it bottled in. He understood how difficult it must have been for Avalon to deal with what happened to her in Venice on her own. But because she never showed an ounce of fear to the others, the fear found another way to express itself: nightmares. And, because she kept the nightmares to herself and never asked for help, the nightmares increased in quantities and in strength.

"Avalon..." the Doctor took back his hands and looked at the ginger before him.

Avalon teared up and started sniffling louder and louder until she couldn't keep it in anymore and burst into sobs, "I was scared! I was really scared!" she clung onto him for a hug.

The Doctor, though startled by the outburst, hugged back. He felt this was probably something she used to do with Rory, and well...since he'd taken him away from her as well...she felt truly alone with no one to talk to. He hugged her back and let her cry all she needed to do in order to start overcoming those nightmares of hers and finally get some needed sleep.

"I'm sorry, Ava," he rubbed her back, "You should have told one of us. We would've helped."

"I didn't want to worry," Avalon tried to say through her sobs.

"Don't try to lie, I saw it, remember? You didn't want to talk about it because 'Avalon Reynolds does not get scared'," the Doctor sighed, "Everyone gets scared, Ava. It's natural, normal. But it stops being normal when you keep it bottled inside," he pulled away and made her look up at him, "Your fear found another way to express itself. Now it's harming you for real."

"Wh-What can I do? Please tell me, I can't take it anymore," she shook her head, "I'm tired. Every time I close my eyes I can feel them on my neck," she shivered and swatted her hands over her neck, "They're drinking and I scream over and over and-"

"Sh, sh, sh, it's okay," the Doctor said and pulled her hands from her neck, "It's very simple, actually."

"It is?"

"Yes," the Doctor nodded, "Just talk about it. Admit you were afraid. And I promise you, little by little, those pesky nightmares will fade away."

"I have to talk about it?" Avalon hesitated as she took her hands from his, "I...I can't. It's embarrassing," she mumbled.

The Doctor sighed, he should've guessed she'd feel like that, "Well, then...don't look at me," he offered, "I'll sit here," he moved to the other side of the bed, "And you lay down where you were," he admitted he was a bit surprise to actually see her obeying and taking her place back for sleep, "Okay, um, just...talk, tell me what happened. Tell me how you felt and I'll listen."

"Um..." she stared at the window across her spot, "...I was mad cos I was caught sneaking down to the chamber, the one where you'd be coming through. Then I saw Francesco, and I...I don't remember much," she paused as she thought, "...I slapped him. But I can't remember why I did it. I just know that I was really, really angry with him...cos he did something."

The Doctor knew that it had to be because of what Francesco had done to Lena. He could see Avalon angry as hell and slapping the man, triggering his instinct to fight back...and biting her.

"Then I was brought into another chamber and they...they strapped me down to this chair and...I met Rosanna, and we argued...and..." Avalon swallowed hard and shut her eyes.

The Doctor noticed her breathing picking up and gently put a hand on her arm, "It's okay," he whispered, "Deep breath," he instructed.

Avalon took a deep breath and waited a moment more before she felt enough to talk again, "They bit me...both of them, the Saturnynes, they...the fed on me like I was a dinner plate," she sniffled, "I can still feel their hands on my neck...pushing my hair away, and I just..." she quietly cried, her hands clutching the blanket underneath.

The Doctor didn't know how to help her at this point. Should he hug her? But it would be a bit awkward considering she was laying down. But he just didn't like hearing her cry and needed a way to stop her. He reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over Avalon, "I promise you nothing like that will ever happen to you again," he whispered, "And whenever you feel scared, please tell me, or even Amy. You don't have to pretend anymore."

Avalon looked back with red eyes and managed a small smile, "Thank you, Fairy Tale Man."

"I didn't really do much," the Doctor admitted, "Sort of acted like a psychologist."

"Well it's been long since I had a 'psychologist'," she chuckled lightly, "I don't...I don't really have anyone to talk to anymore..." she paused, the Doctor saw confusion spreading on her face the more silent she continued to be, "...I..I don't think I really had anyone to begin with," she mumbled, "My mum, Amy...Mels. But Mum died and then I...no one."

The Doctor found it difficult to look her in the eye and not feel guilty. On his watch he'd let Rory and Lena die, leaving Amy and Avalon alone.

"I was scared," Avalon took a breath and turned back to her side, "I admit it," she closed her eyes, "And it actually...feels better."

"Try getting some sleep," the Doctor offered, smiling when she pulled the blanket closer to her.

"God I really hope there's no more dreams tonight," she whispered as she closed her eyes.

"Dream yourself up a knight in shinning armor or something to keep the bad people away," the Doctor said and got a laugh from her, "Meanwhile, I'll be as quiet as possible for you."

Before he got up, Avalon reached back and took his hand, "Thank you," she whispered.

The Doctor smiled back, "You're welcome," he surprised her, and himself, by giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She blinked but nonetheless smiled, "Goodnight." She let his hand go and finally decided to try once more to sleep.

~ 0 ~

The next morning, Craig stood outside the bathroom where he'd been waiting a decent amount of time for the Doctor to come. The Doctor was singing at the top of his lungs, making it just a bit hard to hear Craig's calls from the other side of the door.

Craig gave one particularly loud bang against the door. "Doctor!"

The Doctor stopped his singing for a moment and heard Craig's next call. "Hello?!"

"How long are you going to be in there?" Craig called, sighing.

"Oh, sorry, I like a good soak!"

Craig was about to tell him to hurry up when he'd heard a loud banging above, "What the hell was that?"

~ 0 ~

Inside the bathroom, the Doctor poked his head out from the curtain, "What did you say?"

~ 0 ~

"I'm just going to go upstairs, see if he's OK," Craig headed for the stairs.

~ 0 ~

"Sorry?" the Doctor called but received no answer, "What did you say?"

~ 0 ~

Craig was finishing coming up the stairs and went right ahead to knock on the door of the upstairs room. An elderly man opened up the door by a creak, "Yes? Hello?" he asked.

~ 0 ~

"Craig?" the Doctor called one again and decided to go check what was happening. He grabbed a towel as he got out of the shower but ended up slipping on the floor with a loud thud.

~ 0 ~

"It's me from downstairs. I heard a big bang," Craig was saying to the elder man.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor sat up on the bathroom floor and with soap in his eyes, "No choice...it's sonicking time," he reached out to grab his screwdriver placed in a toothbrush holder but ended up grabbing a toothbrush due to the soap in the eyes.

~ 0 ~

"Thank you, Craig, but I don't need your help," the elderly man closed the door on Craig.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor ran out the bathroom only for the towel wrapped around his waist to slip to the floor, "Oops!" he quickly picked it up and tied around himself again. He needed to get out there because he was sure Craig said something about going upstairs. He reached the stairs and aimed his 'screwdriver' up the stairs, "What happened, what's going on?"

"Is that my toothbrush?" Craig raised an eyebrow as he came down the stairs.

"Correct. You spoke to the man upstairs?" the Doctor stared up at the shut door.

"Yeah."

"What did he look like?"

"More normal than you do at the moment, mate," Craig smiled in amusement, "What are you doing?"

"What is going on!?" they heard Avalon's call as she emerged from her bedroom. She came round the staircase, rubbing her eyes and with a big yawn. "Between shouts and..." she yawned again.

"I thought Craig was in trouble," the Doctor winced. He'd tried keeping his word of being as quiet as possible while she slept. Throughout the rest of the night she slept peacefully while he worked on the makeshift device that would help them with the upstairs flatmate. When morning came by, Avalon wasn't giving any indication that she'd be waking up soon so the Doctor got himself out of there before he did something to wake her up.

"And you couldn't have gotten dressed to go and save him?" Avalon tried not to laugh when she'd finally opened her eyes and saw him with the towel and his hair in the worse state ever. She reached over to flick some of his wet hair off his forehead. "Might wanna go easier on the shampoo next time."

The Doctor swatted her hand away from him, making her laugh again. At least she seemed chipper than usual.

"And with my toothbrush," Craig pointed and headed off to answer a ringing phone in the living room.

"What's going on?" Avalon looked up at the stairs, "Did I miss an attack or something?"

"No, no...suppose not..." the Doctor frowned, "...you should go back to sleep."

"It's past noon," she smiled, "Plus, I want breakfast," she shrugged and moved for the living room when she saw the front door opening.

It was Sophie, coming in with another key. She walked in and lightly gasped when she saw the two, a bit more startled by the Doctor due to his lack of clothing, "Oh...Hello?"

Avalon sighed, "Avalon Reynolds," she waved and entered the living room, "I want breakfast."

She went straight into the kitchen and started raiding the fridge. Knowing men when they said they had nothing it really meant they only had healthy food and didn't actually eat it. She went through that with her father and brother. If there were things like apples and oranges for them there was 'nothing to eat'. She took out a plate and took out a celery stick with a bottle of ranch. Just like she'd guessed, there were things to eat.

"What are you doing?" she sighed when the Doctor came over to the fridge and took out a milk carton...to drink from it.

"The better question is what are you doing?" the Doctor moved to her side and grimaced at the celery.

"Breakfast," she snatched the carton from him and placed a glass in front of him.

"Past noon?"

"Shut up," she muttered, "I never sleep past noon. Barely sleep past six in the morning."

"Well I wasn't going to wake you. It looked like you were finally getting well-deserved sleep."

"I did, actually," she smiled as she took a piece of celery and bit into it, "For the first time..."

"Followed my advice, then," he nudged her, turning her smile into confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Dreamed up some sort of savior," he reached for one of her celery sticks.

Avalon started coughed unexpectedly for a second as she gave a small smile, "Yeah, actually...I did," she quickly turned away, "...and it helped."

"Let me guess, Prince Charming?" the Doctor smirked as he bit into the celery, quickly spitting it back out into the sink, "Bad, very bad," he mumbled.

"Um, yeah, yeah...Prince Charming," Avalon rubbed the side of her neck, "Knight in Shining Armor," she cleared her throat and looked at him with a smile, "Thanks. For real. I'm not used to this kind of treatment."

"Kind of treatment?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Do you mean you're not used to people treating you kindly? ...cos you're not a 'nice person'?"

Avalon looked at him, "Where did you hear that?"

"Look, I'm going to be honest here..." he looked back at Craig and Sophie, making sure they weren't listening. They seemed to be having a conversation while Craig held the phone, "...I heard what you said to Vincent," he spoke quietly to Avalon.

"You eavesdropped?" Avalon blinked.

"I didn't mean to, but...the voices sort of carried out and I...I heard," the Doctor winced as if he could already feel one of her slaps that were sure to come his way. But instead, Avalon stepped back her head turning to the side as if she were avoiding his look, "Ava, I'm sorry, I...I know how reserved you are with your things," the Doctor sighed, "I promise I won't say anything."

Avalon scoffed quietly, "Oh please, it's nothing no one's new to. At least now you know who you brought into your home," he opened his mouth to remark on his confusion but she continued without noticing, "I don't need the pity, I get that from Amy at times. Mels is...well...she's the only one that doesn't really care, actually."

"Hold on, I'm not telling you this because I pity you," the Doctor frowned, "I'm telling you this because I'm sorry for what you've been through."

"Isn't that the same?"

"No, it's not. I'm, frankly irritated and upset you've been treated like that for so long," he stepped up to her, "And, I share some of those feelings."

"What? They did that to you too?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Have you met me?" he challenged and she chuckled, "On my home planet, Gallifrey, things were strict. There were rules and laws and I...sort of didn't follow them. Everyone knew who I was, I had an infamous legacy..." he laughed bitterly, "...the infamous child, actually."

"You understand," Avalon realized.

"Of course I do," he nodded.

"But you weren't a criminal like me..."

"Actually," he didn't want to bring up the manner in which he'd ended a war she didn't even know about yet. but perhaps he could mention briefly the object that he used, "...I stole something from my people, and I used it for something bad."

"You don't look like a criminal," she remarked, making him smile.

"I could say the same to you," he shrugged, "But the thing is Avalon, the thing I want you to get from all this is that I try to have my hope, to be happy and to have some friends. I'd like for you to try that too."

"I do have friends," she said quietly, "And I am happy..."

"You've known Amy all your life and yet she doesn't even know what your favorite color is, what you want to be in life...you never talk about yourself," he sighed, "I don't even know you that well. And I'm not that big of an idiot to miss the fact that you're not truly happy."

"Why do you insist so much on this?" Avalon had to ask as she thought of the many times he'd talk to her like this, about things that she didn't even talk to Amy about, "We have a pending alien flatmate to deal with and your wasting your time with a hopeless case?"

"Because it's not hopeless and I clearly care for you," the Doctor casually shrugged.

"You care for me this much?" Avalon whispered.

"Yes," he answered slowly so she would get it through her head, "With your violent ways, your sarcasm, preppiness-"

"I'm not preppy," she crossed her arms.

"Have you seen what you're wearing?"

Avalon opened her mouth but then looked down at her clothes. She wore a buttoned up, pink and white vertically-striped blouse with a high-collared, yoke-styled neckline. It had ruffles around the sleeveless hemlines on each arm. She wore dark blue jeans and brown leather boots with small heels. "Okay so maybe I'm a little preppy..." Avalon reconsidered with a sigh.

The Doctor laughed, "And that's just fine."

"You are one weird alien," she whispered, "But a very helpful one."

"Oh, I've moved up ranks," the Doctor joked and got a laugh from her.

"Don't get too cocky on that, just because you helped one insomniac sleep for the first time doesn't mean anything...ish,"

"Oi?" they heard Craig call, "The game is in an hour, remember Doctor?"

Avalon sent an odd look at the Doctor. "What game is he talking about?"

"Did I forget to mention?" he beamed, "I'm playing football!"

"Oh no..." she whispered and stepped back.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," Craig said and looked over at the pair again, "Doctor, like I said, the spare kit's in the bottom drawer."

"Right," the Doctor nodded, "Best get dressed now."

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit too," Craig said goodbye to Sophie and hurriedly went for a shower.

Sophie looked around a bit awkwardly as she noticed Avalon silently eating in the kitchen. Avalon then turned to her holding the plate she was eating from, "Celery, Sophie?"

"Um, no thanks," Sophie shook her head.

"So, you don't play or anything?" Avalon walked into the living room and sat down on the couch chair.

"Nah, I just watch," Sophie sat down on the large couch.

"Well, it's not half bad of a date," Avalon smirked as Sophie gasped with a flushed face.

"It's...it's not a date," she quickly shook her head, "Craig and I, we're not..."

"I never said you and Craig," Avalon's smirk widened as Sophie blushed even deeper.

"Oh! U-um, well...um...I, uh..." Sophie looked around in plain embarrassment as she tried figuring out what to say.

"You know," Avalon went on like nothing happened, "People who aren't dating don't usually have two sets of keys to a 'friend's house but yet yours are in your purse," she pointed to Sophie's purse on her lap, "And then Craig had those over there," she then pointed to the table near the threshold, "It's also yours, which he's been holding by the way."

"What's the point of this?" Sophie asked, confused.

Avalon shrugged with a smile, "Nothing, I just guess you must really like it here."

"Um, yeah..."

"It's not bad," Avalon said, "I gotta say back in my house with my dad and brother, they're total slobs at time. If I don't do a regular clean up," she did a whistle, "They are lucky to have me."

"You still go back and clean for them?" Sophie wondered.

"Oh no, they don't even know I'm gone," Avalon shrugged, forgetting for the moment that while for her it was still the night she'd gone off with the Doctor and Amy, for Sophie it looked more like a runaway.

"Don't you think you should've mentioned to your father you decided to go and live with your boyfriend?"

Avalon nearly choked on her celery stick, "Seriously, we're not," she looked at Sophie, "Just friends."

"So you ran away with your 'friend'?" Sophie raised an eyebrow.

"We didn't run away!" Avalon exclaimed and finally scarfed down the rest of her celery stick, "I didn't run away!"

"Then why are you here...?" Sophie asked. She wasn't trying to be rude but it was confusing and a bit odd for two friends to go and rent a room when the logical thing would've been to rent out an entire flat and simply be flatmates like Craig had done with Mark, the anterior flatmate.

"Because we're..." Avalon looked at the ceiling with the spreading stain, "...we're um...you know what, conversation over," she sweetly smiled and stood up, placing the finished plate of celery on the table, "I'm gonna go help my...friend, out," she hurried out of the room.

That conversation probably could've gone better.

~ 0 ~

"No it's not the one with the sticks," Avalon muttered to the Doctor as they followed Craig and Sophie through the park towards the field.

All the way there the Doctor had tried narrowing down what kind of game football was and so he had burdened Avalon with all the questions he could think of. While it had been amusing in the beginning for Avalon, she was beginning to grow tired of answering questions that were clearly not relevant to the sport...especially when the Doctor held the football in his hands.

One of Craig's teammates, Sean, came over to greet them as soon the group had arrived, "All right, Craig. Soph. All right, mate."

"Hello, I'm Craig's new flatmate," the Doctor shook his hand and gave another Gallic kiss, making Avalon sigh as she'd spoken to him about that habit, "I'm called the Doctor. Oh, and that's Avalon," Avalon gave a nod for a greeting.

"All right, I'm Sean," he smiled, "Where are you strongest?"

"Arms," the Doctor said.

Avalon shook her head, "He meant what position, genius," she mumbled to him.

"Oh, not sure," he shrugged, "The front? The side? Below?"

"Are you any good though?" Sean raised an eyebrow.

The Doctor spun the ball on his fingers and grinned, "Let's find out," he kicked the ball into the field and ran to catch it.

"It'll be a real lottery," Avalon warned and moved to go sit on a nearby bench.

"You don't play either?" Sophie came to sit beside her.

"Um, no...not really," Avalon shook her head and sighed, "As a kid I, um, I actually liked sports but you know how it is. 'Girls don't play sports' and all, never really got to do it."

"I like watching," Sophie admitted and looked out to the field.

"Could only guess why," Avalon mumbled and caught the woman blushing again.

"Has anyone told you you're a bit bold?"

"The cops," Avalon shrugged, "My dad...lots of people," she concluded and got a laugh, "Makes it a bit harder to make some friends, though."

"Ava!" she heard the Doctor calling as he ran towards her, "Apparently, you don't play with this." He held out his tweed jacket to her.

"You don't say," Avalon sarcastically gasped and took the jacket from him.

"You could've said something," the Doctor huffed at her sarcasm.

"I did," she reminded, growing serious, "But I do recall you saying 'it's cool'."

"It is!"

Avalon rolled her eyes, "Oh go out and play. And please try not to hurt yourself or the other players." The Doctor beamed and ran off.

"Why did you tell him that?" Sophie wondered, "Isn't he good?"

Avalon opened her mouth but let out a nervous laugh and looked at the field, "Oh look, the game's starting," she pointed, "Let's watch."

Sophie thought the ginger was acting weirder than was the normal but agreed and turned to watch the game begin. As the game progressed the Doctor began to show some genuine skills that helped score some goals for Craig's team. As little as she knew about the sport, Avalon found herself actually getting more into the game along with the onlookers. Together, they cheered for the Craig's team, but more specifically the Doctor who scored the winning goal, and most of the others goals. At the end of the game, Sophie went to congratulate Craig on the team;s win, though the more Avalon looked at the man the more she thought Craig looked upset for some reason.

"Ava!" Avalon heard the Doctor call to her. She barely had time to react when she was taken into a great, big hug. "We won! I won! Did you see that!?" the Doctor spun her around like crazy.

"Wow! Yes, I did! Gotta say, I'm surprised." Avalon laughed as she was set down, actually feeling a blush for his surprise hug, unbeknownst to her the Doctor was also in the same predicament. He'd just been so happy that he'd won and since all the other team members went to hug their friends, he thought he should do the same.

"Ha! Another win! Impressed yet?" he flashed her a smirk that made her roll her eyes.

"You wish! You just had a lucky streak, that's all," she chuckled when his face went flat. "Oh c'mon, just kidding. Congrats! You did win!" She gave him another hug, completely ignoring his sweaty state - she'd let it slide this time. She actually thought he played a good game for somebody who had no idea how to play the game.

The Doctor was always happy to get a hug from Avalon. She always smelled so nice, so floral and...nice.

"Hey!" Sean called to the pair, breaking them apart. "You two just gonna stay there or come join us?"

Avalon quickly untangled herself from the Doctor's arms and pulled them towards the rest of the team. Since neither of them looked at each other, they didn't notice the same blushes they sported on their faces.

"You are so on the team!" Sean immediately said to the Doctor after giving them their drinks. "Next week we've got the Crown and Anchor, we'll annihilate them!"

The Doctor took the words quite literally and moved up to Sean, "No violence, not while I'm around, not today, not ever. I'm the Doctor, the oncoming storm-"

Avalon yanked him back and laughed nervously, urgently motioning him to shut up. "He's just joking," she said to the group and shot a look at the Doctor, "He meant you were totally going to win the next game."

"Oh..." the Doctor blinked and looked back to Sean, the man was overly puzzled with his reaction. "Lovely, what sort of time?"

At that moment, Craig had opened up a can that spilled over, making everyone laugh. However, the action started to repeat itself over and over as a time loop.

Quickly, the Doctor took Avalon away from them and activated the earpieces, "Amy?" he called.

Avalon activated her earpiece in time to hear Amy's scream, 'It's happening again! Worse!'

"What does the scanner say?" the Doctor urgently asked.

"A lot of nines. Is it good that they're nines? Tell me it's good that they're all nines!"

Avalon studied the face the Doctor had and sighed, "Not good, is it?" she asked him.

"No, no, it's...it's good," he tried to say to her and Amy, "Just um, the zigzag plotter, zigzag plotter, Amy," they heard another scream, "Amy? Are you there?"

"Yes, hello," she finally called, the TARDIS seeming a bit better now.

"Ah, thank heavens. I thought the TARDIS had been flung off into the vortex with you inside it, lost forever."

"You mean that could actually happen!?" Avalon blinked with wide eyes, "That's the sort of things you need to mention!" she whacked his arm.

"You have got to get me out of here!" Amy exclaimed.

"How are the numbers?" the Doctor made her focus on that again, not able to handle two alarmed gingers.

"All fives."

"Fives?" the Doctor looked back at the human group to see them acting normally, "Even better. Still, it means the effect's almost unbelievably powerful and dangerous, but don't worry. Hang on, OK? I've got some rewiring to do."

"Hey! You...'hang on'!"

Avalon scoffed, "Great comeback, Amy."

"Oh...shut up!"

Avalon shook her head and followed the Doctor back to Craig's flat.

~ 0 ~

The travelers were lucky that no more time loops happened for the rest of the day. The Doctor set back to work on whatever he was building and since Avalon had zero clue what he was doing, she decided that the best thing she could do for him was to stay out of his way. Today was the first day in a very long time that she was wide awake and she wanted to take advantage of it.

She went out and did a bit of exploring without making herself known. She visited a few shops, bought nothing though since the TARDIS' wardrobe pretty much beat everything they had, and then headed for the local food shops. Since the flat basically had no food, and she couldn't eat healthy forever, she went in for some groceries.

She returned to the flat by evening and had found Craig and the Doctor conversing something in the foyer. The first thing she noticed - because how could she not notice - the great big orange cone the Doctor was holding. A street cone. He literally went out and got a street cone.

"Oh dear Lord," she muttered as she wobbled her way towards them with the grocery bags in her hands.

"Need some help?" Craig offered his hands to which Avalon was very grateful. He definitely seemed in a better mood than he was earlier at the game.

"Thanks," Avalon pushed her purse's strap back over her shoulder and gave the Doctor a look for his chosen cone. "What were you talking about? Didn't get into trouble did you?"

"Oh nothing, I was just telling Craig he shouldn't mind us. Won't even know we're here."

"Right," Avalon nodded then let her eyes linger over the cone. "Doctor, why the hell do you have a street cone? Most guys bring beer or, I don't know, something that's not street cones!"

"Why would I want beer of all things? That smells disgusting," the Doctor scrunched his face, even shuddering as if he was smelling it right now.

"It's actually pretty good. Craig, I'll put the stuff away!" Avalon turned for the living room but before she could even step inside, Craig hollered that he got it and that she and the Doctor could go off.

"Go off where?" Avalon barely asked when the Doctor yanked her for their room.

The Doctor quickly opened the door for Avalon and pulled her inside before Craig could see what laid inside. Avalon was stunned to see the bed covered with a spinning machine-type-wheel.

"Isn't it a beauty!?" the Doctor gestured quite proudly to his creation.

"It's a machine," Avalon said and hushed him, "You may want to speak quieter before Craig or the flatmate upstairs hears you."

The Doctor merely shrugged and returned to work. Apparently, he wasn't done yet. "So, where did you go? Besides the grocery store apparently."

"Places," Avalon moved towards the couch chair, genuinely smiling as she let herself fall onto it. "Today's the first day that I'm actually awake so I celebrated by going to the shops and the park again. I busied myself with more writing." She pulled her journal out of her bag and gave it a sigh that distinctly sounded sad.

The Doctor stopped working to shoot her a suspicious look. "You don't seem too happy about it. And I do believe we talked about that."

"It's not that I'm unhappy, it's just..." she shook her head, "...it's nothing."

"No, c'mon, tell me," he glanced at her with an encouraging nod.

Avalon closed her journal and stared at the cover, "My mum gave me this journal for my fifteenth birthday," she swallowed hard, "Also known as the year she died. So...this is kinda the last thing I have from her," the Doctor stopped working and turned to her as he sensed the importance of her words, "I've been writing in thing for six years and...I've used up all the pages now," she looked up with a sad smile, "I've got no where else to write anymore."

"Um...it's called buying another journal," the Doctor said, feeling like now she was missing the obvious and she rarely did that.

"Doctor, were you not listening? My mother gave me this journal," Avalon clutched the journal to her chest, "I wanted to be a writer, still do, actually," she whispered, "She gave me the journal so that I could start practicing."

"But after her death it turned more into sentimental value for you," the Doctor started to understand.

"It's silly, I know, but...to buy another journal is like replacing my mother and I don't want to do that," she smiled sadly, "I don't want to start a new journal anymore because then I'd have to stop carrying this one," she waved her journal, "And that would be like that forgetting about my mum."

"So you're just going to stop the writing?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged, "I guess...I just can't let go of these pages...pictures..." she opened up the front cover and turned it around fo him to see, "See? My mum wrote me a letter and put a picture of us together, I can't buy a new one."

The Doctor smiled as he saw the teenage version of Avalon with her mother, "I understand," he nodded, "But hey," he beamed, confusing Avalon for a second.

"What?"

"I just learned something about you," he gestured, "And I mean something that not even Amy knows about."

"What?"

He laughed at her genuine confusion, "You want to be a writer!"

"Oh," she looked to the side, "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing!" the Doctor exclaimed, "I'm just happy to know something about you that you've told no one else."

She playfully rolled her eyes, "Oh don't make such a big deal about it. And get back to work," she pointed back to the device he'd left alone.

"Yes, ma'am," he pretended to salute. She laughed and leaned back on the chair, opening her journal to reread some of the pages. The Doctor looked at her for a minute and softly smiled, she actually looked genuinely happy. That was a version of her he hadn't seen just yet so it was more than special for him.

~ 0 ~

"Hello," the Doctor poked his head up from behind the couch where Craig and Sophie sat on.

"What?" Craig blinked at the sight of the man.

"Whoops, sorry, don't worry, I wasn't listening, in a world of my own down there," the Doctor quickly said and winced when he heard Avalon shout his name.

"I thought we were over this," she entered the living room, noticing Sophie and Craig, "Sorry, sorry, he's a bit of an idiot when it comes to tools and he thinks I was lying," she looked at the Doctor, "Which I am not!"

"I thought you were going out!" Craig said to both of them, Avalon sensing an irritation in his tone.

"Why would we go out?" she crossed her arms.

"Because I told him we needed...space," Craig answered quietly.

"This is the first time I hear any such statements," Avalon shrugged and walked up to pull the Doctor up to his feet, snatching the screwdriver from his hand, "This-" she held it up to him, "-is a regular screwdriver. No buttons, no nothing. Have you finally gotten it?"

"What's going on?" Sophie looked between the two, finding a bit irrelevant to be talking over a screwdriver.

"They're really on their way out," Craig tried to say.

"No, I don't mind, if you don't mind," Sophie cut in, smiling at the pair unlike Craig.

"I don't mind, why would I mind?"

"Then stay, have a drink with us," Sophie gestured for the pair to move over and take a seat.

"What, do I have to stay now?" the Doctor looked at Avalon who just sighed.

"Do you want to stay?" she countered.

"I don't mind," he shrugged, completely oblivious to the fact he'd ruined a moment between Sophie and Craig.

"Okay then," Sophie once again gestured for them to move over.

"Great," Craig muttered.

Later on would find the Doctor sitting in the couch chair, still with the wires wrapped around his neck. Avalon had brought a chair from the kitchen and placed it across the couch as she didn't want to intrude even more on poor Craig's night. They'd started to talk and while the Doctor continued working on the wires, Sophie had taken to talking about them of the routine of life and slowly getting more and more upset about it.

"Cos life can seem pointless," she went on, "Work, weekend, work, weekend. And there's six billion people on the planet doing pretty much the same."

"Six billion people? Watching you two at work," the Doctor gave them a small look, "I'm starting to wonder where they all come from."

"What? What do you mean by that?" Sophie became alarmed.

"So that call center," Avalon cut in before the Doctor said something else he shouldn't, "You don't think that's good enough?" Sophie gave a small shrug, "What do you really want to do?"

"Don't laugh. I only ever told Craig about it. I want to work looking after animals. Maybe abroad? I saw this orangutan sanctuary on telly."

"And what's stopping you?"

"She can't, you need loads of qualifications," Craig finally looked down from the ceiling he'd been staring at ever since Avalon and the Doctor had stayed.

"Yeah, true. Plus it's scary, everyone I know lives round here," Sophie gave another shrug, "Craig got offered a job in London, better money, didn't take it."

"What's wrong with staying here? I can't see the point of London," Craig shook his head.

"Well, perhaps that's you, then. Perhaps you'll just have to stay here, secure and a little bit miserable until the day you drop," the Doctor suddenly said, getting the eyes of everyone of horror, "Better than trying and failing, eh?"

"You think I'd fail?" Sophie softly asked, sounding so disappointed it almost made Avalon smack the Doctor for it.

"Everybody's got dreams, Sophie, very few are going to achieve them, so why pretend?" the Doctor grabbed a wine glass he'd been given and took a sip. Although once he tasted it he spat it out quickly into the glass and set it back down, "Perhaps, in the whole universe, a call center is where you should be?"

"Why are you saying that? That's horrible!" Sophie gasped.

"Is it true?"

"Of course it's not true. I'm not staying in a call center all my life, I can do anything I want!" the Doctor stayed silent and only smiled, making Sophie realize she'd been tricked, "Oh! Yeah! Right!" Sophie fist-bumped the Doctor and chuckled, "Oh my God," she glanced at Craig, "Did you see what he just did?"

"No, what's happening?" Craig, heavily alarmed, looked between her and the Doctor, "Are you going to live with monkeys now?"

"You're good," Avalon complemented the Doctor, feeling a bit guilty she'd actually thought he meant every word he said to Sophie.

"It's a big old world, Sophie," the Doctor said to her after giving a wink to Avalon, "Work out what's really keeping you here, eh?"

"I don't know. Dunno..." Sophie mumbled and discreetly glanced at Craig.

~ 0 ~

"And you're sure this is going to work?" Avalon stared at the finished device on the bed, now spinning endlessly.

The Doctor stood beside her with overbearing excitement, "Shield's up! Let's scan!" he announced.

"What are you getting?" Amy asked both of them through the earpieces.

"Upstairs," the Doctor looked at a converted digital clock, "No traces of high technology. Totally normal. No no, no, no, it can't be! It's too normal."

"Only for you could too normal be a problem," Avalon scoffed.

"You said I could be lost forever. Just go upstairs," Amy ordered him.

"Without knowing, get myself killed, then you really are lost," the Doctor informed, "If I could just get a look in there... Hold on," he stopped the device from spinning, "Use the data bank, get me the plans of this building - its history, the layout, everything. Meanwhile, I shall recruit a spy," he de-activated the earpieces.

"And when you say 'spy', what exactly do you mean...?" Avalon crossed her arms.

"How do you feel about animals?" he turned to her with a grin.

"Oh no," Avalon dreaded it as she was pulled out of the room towards God knew where.

~ 0 ~

Avalon was pouring more ranch onto her plate when the Doctor suddenly ran into the kitchen holding the tea pot she'd given him for the breakfast they'd prepared for Craig.

"What are you doing?" she grimaced as he stuffed more tea bags into the pot.

"Craig was oh-so-smart to touch the stain!" the Doctor exclaimed as he ran around the kitchen, even taking her celery stick to drop it into the pot.

"Oi! That was mine!" she frowned.

"Going to reverse the poison, bye!" he dashed out.

"Poison?" Avalon ran after him and came into Craig's room where the man laid on his bed, barely conscious and with an odd streak running on his arm, "What happened to him?"

"He touched the stain," the Doctor sighed.

"What, so he's been poisoned?'

"Yes, hence the tea pot," the Doctor gestured to the pot he held.

"I can heal him," Avalon moved up to the bed.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Doctor frowned.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm from New Earth, remember? My family line descends from the livestock you saved, the same one that carries antibodies in their immune system," she smiled and held her hand to her mouth, gently blowing on her palm. The Doctor watched in awe as small little particles emerged from her mouth. Avalon gave him one more smile before pressing her hand on Craig's arm.

"Is that how that works?" the Doctor mused as he watched the glowing particles take over the streak of the human's arm, "Never seen it in action."

Avalon looked up, "It's through contact of the skin. It can be hands, feet, lips, etc. Though most people prefer the hands," she waved her free hand, "Unless your married."

"That's amazing," the Doctor remarked as he set down the no longer needed pot on the bed stand.

"I've got to go to work," Craig hoarsely tried to say.

"On no account. You need rest," the Doctor pointed.

"It's the planning meeting, it's important."

"You're important. You're going to be fine, Craig," Avalon hushed, "I'm bit rusty on this so it'll take some hours before he'll actually feel better. But the antigens should start taking over again."

The Doctor nodded and led her out of the room.

"Poor Craig, we haven't been making his life easier," Avalon crossed her arms, "Don't you think we should call in to his work so they'll excuse him?"

"Nah, I'll just fill in for him!"

Avalon's eyes widened, "Um...let's not...do that...no..."

"Why not?" he frowned, "I'll be great!" and headed for the doors.

"No! Stop!" she ran after him.

"It'll be fine," he assured.

"It really won't!"

"It will!"

Avalon sighed, "I guess I'll have to go with you or you might get Craig fired," so she followed the Doctor out to the call center where Craig worked.

~ 0 ~

And just as Avalon suspected, things had taken a rather bad turn...for Craig. She was actually surprised to see the Doctor doing well at a human job. He'd managed to do the planning meeting for Craig and get his ideas approved. Even the boss seemed to like the Doctor as he was placed in Craig's seat to manage some customers who were quite rude. Despite barely knowing anything of the job, the Doctor managed to get even more customers for the company which only made the boss like him even more. It was going fine until Craig had come in thinking he'd missed the meeting. Avalon felt guilty the way the poor man was sent back home to 'rest' and especially after he'd blatantly ignored Sophie's request of advice. She'd spoken to Avalon earlier in the day when they first arrived at the center, telling Avalon about a wildlife charity she'd applied for. Though Sophie felt nervous about leaving and so Avalon had advised her to talk to Craig about it, hoping she could give them back the moment she and the Doctor had taken from them last night. But Craig was too upset to notice what Sophie was saying and had accidentally told her to go ahead and do it.

Avalon had never found herself in such chaos.

She'd talked to the Doctor about it on the way back to Craig's flat, trying to make him see that they were actually ruining Craig's life in literal terms. But the Doctor, being himself, didn't catch it.

They returned back to the flat where the cat they'd brought in last night was just coming down the stairs.

"Have you been upstairs?" the Doctor immediately questioned it.

"You speak 'cat'?" Avalon crossed her arms and laughed when he mimicked a meow as a response to the cat.

"You can do it. Show me what's up there? What's behind that door?" he ignored her and continued talking to the cat, "Try to show me. Ohh, that doesn't make sense! Ever see anyone go up there? Lots of people? Good good. What kind of people? People who never come back down. That's very bad."

Craig opened the door for the living room and stalked towards the Doctor, "I can't take this any more. I want you to go!" he returned into the living room and gave back the bag of money Avalon had given him as rent, "You can have this back an' all."

"What have I done?" the Doctor frowned.

"I told you," Avalon mumbled.

"For a start, talking to a cat," Craig pointed.

"Lots of people talk to cats," the Doctor shrugged and handed the money back to Avalon.

"Everybody loves you, you're better at football than me, and my job, and now Sophie's all "Oh, monkeys, monkeys-"

"Woah, hey, that one was all your fault!" Avalon cut in, "You ignored Sophie when she tried talking to you about it," she crossed her arms, "That one's not the Doctor's fault."

Craig frowned and moved to their bedroom, "Yeah, well, this is his fault!" he opened the door and pointed to the device on the bed, "What the hell is that!?"

The Doctor ran over to the device while Avalon quickly shut the door behind them, "It's art! A statement on modern society," the Doctor exclaimed, ""Ooh, ain't modern society awful?" he stopped the device from spinning.

"Me and you two, it's not gonna work out," Craig declared, "You've been here three days, the three weirdest days of my life."

"Your days will get a lot weirder if we go!"

"I thought it was good weird, but it's not, it's bad weird! I can't do this any more!"

"I can't leave this place," the Doctor stalked up to him, "I'm like you, I can't see the point of anywhere else. Madrid, hah, what a dump! I have to stay."

"No, you don't, you have to leave!"

"I can't go!"

"Arguing isn't going to help," Avalon could not believe she just said that. She, the one with the biggest, baddest temper had just said that! What was going on!?

"Right," the Doctor agreed with Avalon and looked at Craig, grimacing as he thought of the oncoming pain, "I'm going to show you something, but ssh, really, ssh! Oh, I am going to regret this. OK, right... First, general background!"

Avalon jumped when the Doctor head-butted Craig, actually hearing the big smacks. However, Craig immediately saw the Doctor's set of past incarnations and his actual identity.

"You're a..." Craig pointed at him.

"Yes," the Doctor groaned as he rubbed his forehead.

"From..." Craig pointed up.

"Sh!"

"You've got a TARDIS!"

"Yes. Ssh!" the Doctor pointed at his face, "Eleventh! Right... OK, specific detail!" he head-butted once more and showed Craig the reasons why he and Avalon were in the flat.

"You saw my ad in the paper shop window," Craig gasped.

"Yes, with this right above it," the Doctor pulled out a note signed by Amy they'd found in the shop of the advert, "Which is odd, because Amy hasn't written it yet. Time travel, it can happen."

"That's a scanner! You used non-technological technology of Lammasteen," Craig moved up to the spinning device.

"You're both so mad," Avalon concluded after the spectacle she just saw.

"Shush," the Doctor pointed at her, making her roll her eyes.

"How's the forehead?" she smirked.

"Never doing that again!" he declared and turned on the earpiece, "Amy!"

"That's Amy Pond!" Craig turned to them.

"Oh, someone's happy they caught up," Avalon smiled.

"Got those plans yet?" the Doctor was asking Amy.

"Still searching for them!"

"I've worked it out with psychic help from a cat."

"Cat?"

"Yes, Amy, he talks to cats now," Avalon shook her head.

"I know he's got a time engine in the flat upstairs," the Doctor cut in before they mocked as was expected, "He's using innocent people to try and launch it. Whenever he does, they get burnt up, hence the stain..."

"From the ceiling?" Craig grimaced.

"Well done, Craig," the Doctor glanced back, "And you, Miss Pond, nearly get thrown off into the Vortex."

"Lovely!" Amy sighed.

They heard a loud crash from above and they could only guess what was going on.

"People are dying up there?" Craig said...only to keep repeating it, "People are dying. People are dying."

"Amy!" the Doctor called as the ginger screamed over the communicator.

"They're being killed!" Craig came out of the time loop.

"Someone's up there so we need to go!" Avalon rushed out of the room with the two following behind.

As they headed up the stairs, Craig stopped and looked at the opened front door to see Sophie's keys in the lock. Avalon and the Doctor noticed them too and ran faster up the stairs.

"It's Sophie. It's Sophie that's dying up there, it's Sophie!" Craig cried and followed them up.

"Doctor! Avalon! Stop!" Amy shouted to them as they arrived at the door of the upstairs flat.

"What is it, Amy?" Avalon asked.

"Are you upstairs?"

"Just going in," the Doctor said.

"But you can't be upstairs!"

"Amy, what the hell are you talking about?" Avalon frowned.

"I've got the plans, you cannot be upstairs, it's a one-storey building. There is no upstairs!"

"Oh..." Avalon and the two men looked down the stairs with nervousness.

Quickly, the Doctor used the screwdriver to entered the 'flat' and came face to face with spaceship room instead, a control panel in the center.

"What?" Craig looked around, dumbfounded.

"What is this?" Avalon stepped further inside.

"The time engine isn't IN the flat, the time engine IS the flat!" the Doctor blinked with surprise, "Someone's attempt to build a TARDIS."

"No, there's always been an upstairs," Craig looked at them surely.

"Has there?" the Doctor challenged, "Think about it!"

"Yes. No. I don't..."

"A perception filter, right?" Avalon turned to the Doctor, "I learned about those, very tricky to spot...cos they can't be spotted. It tricks your memory, like the Angels did."

"Sophie emerged from the other side of the room, screaming as she was forced to walk towards the control panel by energy tendrils.

"Sophie!" Craig shouted and ran towards the woman, the Doctor and Avalon rushing to help.

"Sophie! Oh, my God, Sophie!" Craig grabbed Sophie's hand to keep it from touching a glowing large button on the panel.

"Craig! It's controlling her. It's willing her to touch the activator," the Doctor concluded as he checked the panel with the screwdriver.

"Solutions would be really helpful, then!" Avalon exclaimed.

"Ah! Deadlock seal!" the Doctor stopped with the sonic, meanwhile Sophie's hand had now reached the large button.

"You've got to do something!" Craig said just as Sophie was set free from the panel.

"Wait, why's it let her go?" Avalon blinked, confused, "All that trouble to set her free?"

The Doctor agreed with her and started to look around, grimacing at a dried up skeleton in a corner of the room. He walked to the other side of the panel when suddenly a hologram of a man appeared behind him.

"You will help me," it announced.

The Doctor turned to face the hologram, "Right! Stop! Crashed ship, let's see. Hello, I'm Captain Troy Handsome of International Rescue. Please state the nature of your emergency."

"Really?" Avalon crossed her arms, rolling her eyes at the fake title he'd given himself.

"Sh!" he waved her off as the hologram responded his request.

"The ship has crashed. The crew are dead. A pilot is required."

"You're the emergency crash program. A hologram. You've been luring people up here so you can try them out," the Doctor used the sscrewdriver on the hologram and watched it go through a series of appearance changes.

"You will help me, you will help me, you will help me."

"Craig!" Sophie exclaimed weakly, "Where am I?"

"Hush! Human brains aren't strong enough, they just burn," the Doctor said to the hologram, "You're stupid, aren't you? You just keep trying."

"17 people have been tried. 6,000,400,026 remain."

Sophie stood up now with a bit of irritation, "Seriously, what is going on?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake," the Doctor shook his head, "The top floor of Craig's building is in reality an alien space ship intent on slaughtering the population of this planet."

"In other words now, be quiet!" Avalon shush es the woman.

"The correct pilot has now been found," the hologram said.

The Doctor stiffened, "Yes, I was worried you'd say that."

"He means you, Doctor, doesn't he?" Amy said through the earpiece.

"Why am I not surprised?" Avalon sighed but flinched when the energy tendrils pulled the Doctor towards the panel.

"The correct pilot has been found. The correct pilot has been found."

"What's happening?" Amy cried.

"It's pulling me in! I'm the new pilot!" the Doctor struggled to stay away from the panel.

"Could you do it?" Avalon rushed over to him, "Could you fly the ship safely?"

"No, I'm way too much for this ship. My hand touches that panel, the planet doesn't blow up, the whole solar system does."

"Figures," Avalon sighed and started helping him by pulling with him.

"The correct pilot has been found," the hologram continuously said.

"No...worst choice ever, I promise you," the Doctor looked up, "Stop this!"

"Doctor!" Amy shouted, "It's getting worse."

"It doesn't want everyone," Avalon pointed out and so the Doctor immediately looked at Craig.

"Craig, it didn't want you!" he remembered.

"I spoke to him and he said I couldn't help him," Craig shrugged.

"And it also never wanted Sophie before," Avalon thought, "I don't understand, what's changed?"

"I gave her the idea of leaving!" the Doctor realized the problem, "It's a machine that needs to leave, it wants people who want to escape! And you don't want to leave, Craig, you're Mr Sofa Man. Craig, you can shut down the engine. Put your hand on the panel and concentrate on why you want to stay!"

"Craig, no!" Sophie quickly shook her head.

"Will it work?" Craig looked at the button in doubt.

"Yes!" the Doctor nodded through his pain.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"...Is that a lie?"

"Of course, it's a lie!"

Craig shrugged, "It's good enough for me. Geronimo!" he slammed his hand on to the button and immediately screamed with pain.

The Doctor was set free and ran to Craig's side,Craig, what's keeping you here? Think about everything that makes you want to stay here!" he gave Craig a small slap to get him to focus away from thr pain, "Why don't you want to leave?"

"Sophie! And I don't want to leave Sophie! I can't leave Sophie! I love Sophie!"

Sophie's half widened, "I love you, too, Craig, you idiot!" she slammed her hand over his on the panel. The ship began smoking and sparking upon the second hand's touch.

"Honestly, do you mean that?" Craig blinked at Sophie.

"Of course I mean it! Do you mean it?"

"I've always meant it. Seriously though, do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"But what about the monkeys?"

"Oh my God," Avalon pressed a hand to her forehead, "Don't turn this into something annoying!"

"Craig, the planet's about to burn! For God's sake, kiss the girl!" the Doctor had to agree Avalon, even Amy shouting the same thing through the earpiece.

Craig and Sophie kissed and were able to take their hands off the panel. Even the TARDIS was able to calm and finally materialization, leaving a very relieved Amy to call to her friends, "Doctor! Avalon! You've done it. Aha, you've done it! Oh, now the screen's just zeros! Now it's minus ones, minus twos, minus threes...Big yes!"

But the hologram in the ship started changing appearances again, its voice becoming high pitched as it shorted out.

"Big no," the Doctor stepped back towards the doors, pulling Avalon with him.

"Did we switch it off?" Craig questioned, noticing the still worried face the Doctor had even when they'd just shut down the panel.

"Emergency shutdown, it's imploding, everybody out, out, out!" the Doctor tan out with Avalon, the other humans quickly following in suit.

They ran out the house to the next street and watched as the second floor reverted to the ship and then completely disappeared without anyone noticing a thing.

"Look at them," Craig watched people walking by the house, "Didn't they see that? The whole top floor just vanished."

"Perception filter. There never was a top floor," the Doctor reminded them.

~ 0 ~

After cleaning up the mess in the room they rented, Avalon and the Doctor stepped out the room and walked towards the living room to hand back the keys to Craig. Unfortunately, they entered to find Craig and Sophie kissing and so quickly hurried out. The Doctor left the keys on the sideboard and moved to leave when Craig called for them and halted them on their steps.

"What, you're trying to sneak off?" Sophie raised an eyebrow as they joined the pair.

"Yes, well, you were sort of... busy," the Doctor weakly supplied the word..

Craig picked up the keys and held them to the Doctor, "I want you to keep these. Thank you."

"Thank you," the Doctor took the keys, "Cos I might pop back soon, have another little stay."

"Yeah, in 14 years," Avalon smirked, "Or, if you're really lucky, in 12."

"I said I was sorry!" the Doctor exclaimed with a frown.

He had fully apologized to her and Amy, (and Lena unbeknownst to them) about his tardiness. Unfortunately, it had turned into a more joking matter for Avalon in which she used it to tease him and and irritate him. He supposed he should just be content with the fact Avalon wasn't angry about the 14 years. But, it wasn't fun being teased!

Avalon laughed at his comical expressions and turned back to the others, "Now then. 6,000,400,026 people in the world. That's the number to beat."

"Yeah," Sophie chuckled, "That's what my friend Lena tells me."

Avalon stiffened and blinked, "Wh-What did you say?"

"We'll just be going now, bye," the Doctor waved and hurried out the door with Avalon.

Avalon continued to ponder on the name she'd heard. It was a nice name, pretty, but she couldn't help but feel like there was more to it than just a pretty name. Was there?

~ 0 ~

The Doctor finished starting up the TARDIS and already had a destination, "Back in time! You need to go to the paper shop, leave that note for us," he pointed at Amy.

"Right little matchmaker, you two turned out to be," Amy laughed as she moved up to the Doctor, "Can't you find me a fella?"

The Doctor had a stethoscope on rhe console and quickly pulled it off when he'd heard something wrong, "Oh, rectifier's playing up again...Hold on," he eyed Avalon sitting on the console chair with her journal open. She'd not shaken off the name Lena just yet and the Doctor feared she could be actually remembering, "Amy, you write the note and I'll change that will," he walked off go another room in the console.

"You got a pen?" Amy called.

"Make sure it's a red pen!"

Amy went over to his jacket hanging on armrest of the chair Avalon was in, "What's the matter with you?" she eyed Avalon while searching for the pen.

"What do you think of the name Lena?" Avalon blurted rather urgently. She was racking her head for any possible connection to it but was coming up with nothing. But Amy hadn't answered as she took out a jewelry box from the Doctor's jacket, leaving her stunned. "Amy?" Avalon asked and looked up to see her holding the box, "What is that?"

Amy gave a small shrug and moved closer to her, opening the box to find an engagement ring inside. Avalon raised her eyebrows as she looked at the beautiful ring inside. With no answer, the two gingers stared at it wondering what the Doctor was doing with an engagement ring.

[nour386]

Ballad of the Past

My gift to @lyeox for the @pinesconessecrets 2019 event! I apologise for the wait. I hoe you enjoy your youtuber au.

(also on ao3!)

“It’s so beautiful.” Dipper’s fingers trembled as they neared the golden plaque. “If I were to die right now, I would have no regrets.”

“Hey! No dying yet. You still owe me dinner.” Wirt placed his hands on his hips. 

The pair stood in Dipper’s bedroom, hastily cleaned for their impromptu recording. Dipper had just received his 1 million subscriber award. The golden plaque had arrived that very morning, and every person and cryptid within a 3 mile radius was made well aware of its delivery. But in this present moment, Dipper was hoping to let his fans know how grateful he was for their help in reaching this milestone.

Dipper pressed his finger to his lips. “Hush, I’m celebrating.”

“This is what I have to deal with.” Wirt said. He turned to the camera at the foot of the bed and pointed to his boyfriend, who had started to weep over the golden plaque.

“I’d like to thank the academy,” Dipper sobbed.

“Okay, we’re going to cut recording for now. Dipper needs some time,” Wirt said. “See you guys in a few minutes. Or an hour if his uncle sees the gold plaque and tries to pawn it off.”

Wirt clicked off the recording and turned to his boyfriend. “Are you feeling okay?” “Yeah, yeah, I just need a second.” Dipper wiped his eyes.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were just being dramatic.” Wirt withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket. He gently pressed it against Dipper’s cheek, wiping away his tears. 

“I’m fine.  No, really.” Dipper took the handkerchief and wiped his eyes. “I haven’t been able to cry properly for years.” “Yeah…that doesn’t sound anywhere near the definition of fine.” Wirt crossed his arms.

“Don’t get your antlers in a twist.” Dipper punched Wirt’s arm. 

“Rude!” Wirt gasped.

“Says the man who speaks in demonic tongues when he stubs his toe.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

 Wirt stomped his foot. “Your cabinet is made of redwood! It hurts!”

“Well, good to know what the biggest weakness of a tree demon is.” Dipper rolled his eyes.

“I refuse to be insulted this way,” Wirt said.

“How would you prefer to be insulted then?” Dipper smirked.

“Not at all. Thank you very much.” Wirt sat down heavily on the bed, making Dipper jump.

“Guess these are sticks in the mud then.” Dipper tugged at Wirt’s antlers.

“That tears it.”

Wirt tackled Dipper onto the mattress. He mercilessly tickled the other boy, smirking wickedly as Dipper begged for mercy between giggles. Dipper tried to fight back, but Wirt was wiggly, like a palm in a hurricane.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Dipper cried between giggles.

Wirt stopped his assault, giving his boyfriend a chance to catch his breath. Dipper took  this moment to attack Wirt back. Reaching under his boyfriend's arm and tickling his sides. 

“That isn’t fair!” Wirt gasped. “You gave up.” “All’s fair in love and war,” Dipper grinned. He decided to grant Wirt some mercy and got off the bed. 

“That has to be illegal,” Wirt said after a few deep breaths.

“Under the Geneva Convention, probably, but in the Pines house hold it certainly isn’t.” Dipper stuck out his tongue.

“Ugh, my own boyfriend assaulting me in my time of need.” Wirt rolled over, turning his head away in faux disgust. “I knew I should have stayed in the forest.”

“Sour puss.” Dipper flicked Wirt’s ear before sitting back down onto the bed. 

He laid the plaque on his lap.  Inside the rectangular frame was the Youtube logo, a play button. Below were the words, warded to Cryptid Hunters Anonymous for passing 1,000,000 subscribers”. Not to mention the most important detail: it was entirely made of gold. Dipper gently ran his hand over it. The cool metal reflected his own teary eyed grin.

“So, do you have any plans for your big one mil commemorative video?” Wirt asked. He sat up and rested his chin on Dipper’s shoulder. “A special cryptid hunt? A behind the scenes tour?”

“Bleh, I’ve already shown my recording equipment. Although, I guess I could try an AMA for the multibear. He seemed to enjoy the interview last time.” Dipper furrowed his brow.

“What about unreleased hunts?” Wirt asked, wrapping his arms around Dipper’s waist.

“I already posted everything,” Dipper said. “Well...there is one. But, um...”

“Yes? What’s the problem? It can’t be the video, you’re a wonder on your laptop.” Wirt flourished his hand. “You colourised an old video that was dyed grey from those monochrome goblins.”

“It’s not that.  I did need to replace the camera after that one, though. And funnily enough, I also couldn't edit the footage whatsoever.” Dipper shrugged awkwardly. “I guess it’d be easier to show you. But you have to promise to not make fun of me.”

“Dipper, please. I would never. I’m a respectable tree monster.” Wirt nuzzled into Dipper’s neck. “Besides, I watched your earlier videos. I’ve seen you at your worst. How bad can  it be?”

Dipper brought his laptop to the bed. With a couple of clicks, he opened up the video he had hidden away from the public eye. He gave a heavy sigh as he sat back and cuddled up to Wirt.

“So, remember when we met up at that cafe on Fifth Street for the first time?” Dipper asked. “And how you said it was really lucky that I decided to sit next to you that day?”

“Yes, I remember Mabel waving to you from across the cafe and pushing us to spending the day together.” Wirt tapped his chin.

“It worked out, didn’t it?” Dipper grinned. “You even said yes to a date with me by the end of it.” 

“What could I say? You were adorable. Especially when you snuck looks at that script you wrote on a napkin,” Wirt teased. “Who even does that?”

“Someone worth dating, quite obviously.” Dipper raised his nose in pride.

“C’mon, start it up, Francis Ford Coppola.” Wirt nudged him with his elbow.

“Fine, fine.” Dipper reached forward and started up the video.

The screen was dim. A squelching noise came out of the laptop’s speakers as the image focused on the muddy ground. Leaves lay strewn all across the forest floor while Dipper detailed his goal for that day’s hunt. Mabel occasionally called out her opinions to ‘lessen the nerdiness,’ as she phrased it.

“It’s been raining really heavily for the past few days, so I decided to check out if this affect anything in the forest. I mean obviously it would, it’s not like rain was invented yesterday.”

He kept talking, leaves squelching underfoot as he walked.

“I know the gnomes are probably not too happy about this. They had an outdoor barbeque planned for today. They handed out invites and everything.” Dipper flashed a crudely drawn greeting card. It showed a crayon drawing of a short man with a pointy red hat and a white apron standing behind a smoking red barbeque. 

“But no one shows up to their barbeques!” Mabel’s distinctly cheerful could be heard behind the camera.

Dipper turned the camera to show his sister sticking out her tongue. “When the only thing on the menu is pinecone, roast pinecone, and pine cone steak, I doubt you’d have crowds flocking over.” 

“Maybe they’d have more people come if they didn’t kidnap people all the time,” Mabel teaseded. 

Dipper turned the camera around and continued his hike through the woods. He would occasionally stop to point out different tracks and markings he came across. Mabel would drop in a comment or two, often at her twin’s expense. After concluding that the venture was uneventful, the pair agreed to head back.

“Dipper, if it starts raining on me and my hair gets ruined. I will never forgive you,” Mabel said from off screen.

“Let me just check that next clearing.” 

“Fine, only because I know you need the exercise,” Mabel teased.

The camera was pointed at the clearing in question. It looked rather dark, much like the rest of the woods, thanks to the dark clouds above. As Dipper neared, a figure came into view, standing in the centre of the clearing.

“Hey, I see something over here!” Dipper cried, walking further into the clearing. 

Before him stood a wooden statue of a gnome no taller than his knee, including the hat. The statue’s face was caught half way through a scream of terror, mouth openwide, eyes half closed andarms raised defensively.

“Is it petrified?” Dipper tapped the statue with his finger. “It’s too detailed to be handmade.”

“Dipper, look out!” Mabel’s voice was distant.

Before he could realise what his sister meant, Dipper bumped into someone he hadn’t noticed. The camera fell to the ground, pointing upwards, showing a tall, shadowy figure with antlers that seemed to meld with the branches of the trees above. They stared Dipper down with shining eyes.

“Oh no, he’s hot,” Dipper muttered just before he was dragged out of shot. “Wait no the camera!”

“Camera later. Staying alive now!” Her voice faded out.

The creature looked down at the camera before the picture cut to black.

“And that was that,” Dipper said. He did jazz hands.

“That...oh, no.” Wirt rested his head in his hand. “Oh cheese and crackers. Please tell me I didn’t chase after you.”

“No, we got back to the Shack safely. The camera, on the other hand, showed up on our doorstep a week later, covered in oil with the SD card being the only thing still intact.” Dipper rubbed the back of his head. “This footage was kinda messed up, so I couldn’t really edit out that last comment at the end there. So I kinda shelved it.”

“Oh no. I can’t believe this is happening right now.” Wirt’s face was now completely buried in his hands. “Please just kill me now.” 

“Sorry, fresh out of holy water,” Dipper said. “So, um you wanna explain what was going on there?”

“Okay, so long story short, I was working off some steam and petrified a gnome in the woods.” Wirt had laid back on the bed.

“Wait, that was an actual gnome?” Dipper asked. “You just petrified someone?”

“He was a fairy dust dealer.” Wirt rolled his eyes. “It was a moral freebie.”

“Right.” Dipper didn’t sound convinced. “And why were you so peeved?” “Oh my gosh you would not believe.” Wirt sat up fingers rubbing his temples. “Alright so, the elves in the wood hold a poetry competition once every 5 years. So I enter, all wide-eyed and hopeful thinking that my poetry has a chance of making it in, right?” Dipper laid back, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s enthusiastic narration. A soft smile spread across his face as he leaned against Wirt.

Wirt started waving his arms as he spoke. “I walk up to the stage, my nerves making me feel sick after waiting 3 hours for my turn. I stand up with my ballad. I had spent months writing, re-writing, re-writing again and re-writing one more time for luck. Not to mention rehearsals. And then after sitting through the extravaganza of elvish poetry, which can last for days at a time, I leave the competition wish last place! The judges said my entry was ‘too short’.”

“What was an acceptable length? 2 weeks?” Dipper chuckled.

“Apparently! “ Wirt threw up his arms. “I thought for sure I would have scored higher than the one elf who just stood there and gave a failed improv routine. He didn’t even rhyme! Not even once! And he somehow left with third place.” 

Dipper leaned over and lightly pecked Wirt’s cheek. “I would have given you first place.”

“You’re my boyfriend. That would be cheating.”

“How about you read your poem to me and I’ll judge it,” Dipper said. 

“Interesting.” Wirt tapped his chin. “It would give me the opportunity to show off my prowess. Sure, why not. I’ll be back in a few.”

As he watched his boyfriend scurry out the door; Dipper smiled fondly. He grateful for that fateful day in the woods. And while he made himself comfortable in bed, he wondered if he could have poetry reading be his one million subscriber special. His fans were interested in his love life, so maybe a small preview wouldn’t hurt.

[anosmi16]

a story

I felt neither good nor bad… A giant television on a metallic coffee table in the Hall Leopard print seats Wallpapers decorated with white roses Buffet full of colorful drinks A giant black air conditioner Wall mounted antique turntable setWe tied up on a handmade rug with a burgundy pattern. Stars were falling on us from the bright stones of the chandelier above us. For the first time in the light, I had the opportunity to examine everyone.If you ask me I'll tell: I'm 19; I'm not national yet. I made a living making french fries at McDonald's for a while. I make breakfast with milk and biscuits. I say I drink tea without sugar, but I don't drink much. My grandfather said I didn't have as much intelligence as open yogurt. Maybe he's right; my grandfather was a yoghurt man.

Every fall he falls in love again, chasing after racy women; I'll finally sleep in the bosom of honest women. When the rain comes down on the city, the wet bridge bottoms, I think of hazy parks. Although I'm very sorry, I don't like to give money to a beggar.

*

My boyfriend and I had been separated for a week. I worked for the White Pages cleaning company on minimum wage. That's where we met the trust. We were sent to wipe the window of a skyscraper.

The trust called me home on a cloudy April day. I set off at sunrise in the morning. The bus was full of breath. I put my head against the glass, wandering among the colorful flowers of the Rising Sun, I watched him cover the horizon with curtains between wine liquid and gold dust. My uncle next to me drove the worst Cologne on the market. Suddenly it started raining. Why does the rain suddenly start in my stories?..

My companion wiped the misted glass with his hand and created a space the size of a turtle. We were just watching it together. The rain descended into the city like a wall of water. Rainwater that fills the hole in the concrete, he ran Mother Nature, who made coffee with milk, like a “barista.” The same waters, in the soil, were a visual feast of chocolate pudding. Water gushed from both sides of the bus, which went like a knife. So to speak, his city was flooding; and so to speak, … I got off in Hatay and walked home. The rain stopped, and a silvery rainbow appeared. The last silver drops were creating Mercury-colored balls where it fell. The water dripping from the eaves to the tin roofs kept the rhythm. It was the oldest building in the area, with cracks in the wall in places.Trust Fish-stamp blue eyes, Auburn blunt hair, he was a boy with angular facial features, bright skin, a bird of prey look. The trust had interesting moves: He would turn his eyelids upside down, showing off his bloody skin. We went out on the balcony and watched the boys play ball. The ball was drawing muddy pictures on T-shirts, with the natural palette the street offered. At that moment, I loved those children more than he did.A sweet sun opened, caressing the hair of my arms. As the Rays descend in a yellow wave, a lemon butterfly flying upside down hit a clothesline and took off again. It was like I started life today. A happy baby giggled inside me. I hung from the balcony and looked down. On the lower balcony was an aunt who sang songs to the lovebirds. A grey cat was rubbing its nose against melted house slippers. As if at that moment, there was a softness of cat hair all over the city.

The floor was full of bait, and birds were placed on our balcony. His mother used to feed birds. The balcony was a dump. I got an idea! I collected all the bait and poured it all the way to the Hall. He came in eating about ten pigeons. We jumped them ... but one of them was caught. He fluttered his tail like a dying fish. We cut off his head and plucked his feathers and cooked and ate them.

*

Two hours later, his mother came home. She was one of the old Istanbul women. Her hair was Golden like a wet kadayif sucking sorbet. He wore glasses with a pink frame that were appropriate for this Color. He had an aquarium on his lap. A coral-colored goldfish was swimming in it. His mother looked at us with her blurred face after the cambered glass. His face was bigger than it was; or so it seemed to me. He didn't like slang, blasphemy, he was an obsessive type. When he saw me, he showed sweet kindness, which is trust.; - A few people from the apartment when we caught the pigeon. he was rude and swearing, but don't worry, we fucked them, too. quoth. 🙂

I showed the trust the fish; it raised one eyebrow and said, " Never Mind.” he made a sign like a der. Her mother told me when she went to her room: - Since the fish died last month. I think he thinks he'll die if he doesn't.

I was ashamed to see loyalty to the covenant that I had not seen in anyone in this woman… "Didn't you see the prayer necklace around his neck?, ” my mother is extremely distressed at the moment, " he said. 🙂 Substitute dementia drug Dozyl Easy she said she often took birth control pills. She lamented that she still couldn't forget her husband, who died of cancer. He made an arrow and showed me the photo on the wall. It was a picture of a man with a mustache in a striped short-sleeved shirt. He was a member of the Butchers ' Association. A meaningless expression sat on the trust's face.

I noticed that until that moment, he never mentioned his father.; I didn't know what to say. Did he expect me to laugh or be upset? It annoyed me that he determined my actions. I'm not sure I left the house and locked the door, I was in that moment of ambivalence between leaving and coming back. Fortunately, he dropped his eyes on the ground and moved on to another topic. I sucked my lips so I wouldn't laugh.

It was like our classic mothers.… Clicking on the icons in”quick launch " many times before opening… Bank passwords are 1234… He doesn't know the email passwords and gets a new one every month… Who never throws away yogurt containers… "Eat stale bread today, eat fresh tomorrow” what he said, entered the endless cycle of bread at home… Even for fresh bread to come in line, or guests to come or a few weeks had to pass…

They can't focus on anything but what they think! It doesn't matter what you ask, it matters what you think. That's why the answer you get with your question is completely irrelevant.

He said his mother locked the bathroom even when he was at home. - What, I said, Everybody does that. - He said I wouldn't. - But you love her, right? I said. - It doesn't matter to me! quoth. - How can it not matter, I thought it meant so much to you? I said. - He's important to me, not his thoughts! To see your dreams more clearly, do you know he's been sleeping with his glasses on for three days? quoth.

Suddenly his mother called out from the kitchen: - Guys, come on, I made tea!

I was so surprised when I walked into the kitchen. His mother filled the glasses with hot water and looked at us with candy in her hand. When I saw the empty water in the bottom and top teapot, I knew you didn't put the tea in. But he kept asking how many sugars we were going to throw in the water, as if nothing had happened. Confidence began to scream: - Mom, are you hard to tell, or is the signal late?

Apparently, until this age, he lived like a plant in a pot… If I'd stayed in that house a little longer, I'd have lost my mind!

*

2 Months Later… The fact that we rarely saw each other prevented our friendship from deteriorating. On a hot June night, my phone rang at three in the morning.

Güven: Brother, we're coming for you! “Yihuuuuu” sounds and shouts from behind… Girls with cracked, detonated voices mixed with road noise…

I'm wearing my best clothes; I think maybe I am. An hour later a grey Audi braked bitterly in front of me. There was confidence at the wheel. Because of two girls dancing in the back, Foundation, sweat, underarm, crushed lipstick scents wrapped the car like black tulle. Inside the car was so dark, their faces were mice, his eyes looked like a pinhead. A Midsummer Night's car that gives me goosebumps, he was moving forward, knocking down the trees he had dismantled on the windshield. The dark blue cool of the morning gave me the creeps, licking my face. He was driving full of confidence. He just turned and; – I have good news and bad news to you. Which one would you like to hear first? quoth. - The bad one, said one of the girls. - We're almost out of gas! - So, what's the good news? he shouted, another one. - But it's not over. When we arrived in the rich district of Hatay, Nokta, we got out of the car. The building was like a bright star rising stubbornly to the houses next to it. There was another bug-black Audi outside the door. Handan, - It's dad's spare car, they're in the summer, he said.Girls by word of mouth: "He left the key at home!"they shouted. The apartment was on the fifth floor. The balcony door was closed. - Is the balcony locked? I asked. - No, it's open, they always said it.The famous " free dynamite, let the ass explode!"I remembered our proverb. It was a marriage to climb that apartment for free. I hugged the ground floor irons running. I crossed the first floors like a spider. As I rose, an invisible, malignant hand hung down my shoulders. The month of June, the depth of the apartment… In that purple night that moves inside me… Rusty balcony irons soaked in moisture in the air…I wanted to go to the inside of the balcony on the last floor. I hung so hard on the iron that I watched tiny dust flow from the wall. I jumped in and looked proud from high to low. They raised their arms and applauded me. I was a rock star greeting fans on the concert platform. And they are poor "groupie"… Why didn't I fly at them? Only the shadow of that thought passed through my head!..I was afraid the balcony was locked. Fortunately, it opened and I barged in. The house smelled of fried apple peel. Completely different feelings in this rich house… Would I feel the same way if I went into a slum? Or would I feel patetic? I greeted them like the flirtatious Prince of the rich house.Trust my ear, when you see me climb Handan - Oh, I am doing sex with this guy, and he said he curtsy. I felt neither good nor bad… A giant television on a metallic coffee table in the Hall Leopard print seats Wallpapers decorated with white roses Buffet full of colorful drinks A giant black air conditioner Wall mounted antique turntable setWe tied up on a handmade rug with a burgundy pattern. Stars were falling on us from the bright stones of the chandelier above us. For the first time in the light, I had the opportunity to examine everyone. Handan He was medium-sized, fat, sparse red hair, with tiny eye sockets. His eyes looked like cigarette ash. He pulled a tight pair of shorts under a lion-patterned T-shirt. He had a Band-Aid on his heel. Her lips were purple and superimposed. His voice was”contralto". There was a” Hasbian " side. It was as if it had been cut from an old village photo and glued to this world. You know the story of the Red Chief's ransom: Guys kidnap a rich banker's kid. But the boy is such a pain in the ass that in the end, bandits, they pay the banker to get the boy back.That's what this girl had. He was the kind to love with gloves if he was a son…

Dilan She was a medium-sized brunette beauty. His shiny temples were dislocated. Her dark hair was falling out like a black stick of pasta. From him I smelled a clean aselbent. When you said his name, his black velvet eyes were wide open and greased. Her pink lips were healthy. The lip pit extending to his nose was as deep as a plain. She was a smart chick with a stupid look. His nose was upturned and bony. It was possible to see the bone from the skin of the nose. She wore a red dress that showed off her waist thin and spilled over her hips. Her well-groomed nails were transparent nail polish.

If you looked at him hard, a maddening smile would settle on his face. Maybe he was laughing to suppress his stress. His vervain-white teeth were as bright as candlelight. His voice was”soprano, " and his harrowing vibrations were sweet. You were afraid to touch the baby through the window because it would break. It was ringing like a crystal in the sun. Immediately after crying so as not to upset you, he looked like a woman laughing and wiping her eyes. It was a sharp and biting beauty. He noticed it when I took a picture of it with my eye and recorded it in hidden places in my memory. But he laughed again… It was locked in my eyes for ten seconds. All night long, I went crazy for him to do the same thing again.

One of the girls was sent by angels, the other was the devil's seventh daughter who ran away from home. I don't want to talk too bad, but, a homeless man who drank three bottles of wine could have slept with him when he was in an alcohol coma. I don't want to break your heart, but if you were left with him on a deserted island you'd jump in front of the Sharks and swim away. I don't want to overtax you, but, anyone who had sex with him would be sexually angry and asexual. If he slept with his math teacher, he'd be out of numbers. If he was a bodyguard, the teacher would be crippled. If he slept with a doctor, he'd quit the profession, if he slept with a cop, he'd shoot himself., if he'd stayed with the guard, he'd have agreed to life in prison. I don't want to exaggerate, but if he slept with a gorilla, he'd cool it off., if it had entered the zoo, it could have caused the shelter to move. If he fled the country to another continent, they would bomb the continent so that he would never be discovered again. If he went to Mars ... … They poured dry grass into a cloth and wrapped it in white paper. Handan burned the cylinder he made a cigar and handed it to me. When I pulled it out, I got red needles stuck in my throat. It was as bitter as a hard stove smoke. Handan Was Next. He drew a huge breath and blew a cloud of blue smoke. He was always shouting. His voice was so loud and he wanted everyone to hear him. Tropical fruits were on the table. He stopped drinking and spat the cherry core on the floor like a bloody tooth. I wasn't really interested in what he said. I was drinking cool drinks in colored glasses. I wasn't even interested in fruit. I Had My Eye On Dilan. His eyes were marijuana. He pulled his tongue out of the edge of his lip and drew half a moon in the air and pulled it back. With his sharp facial features, he was a real Amazon. Handan explained that he started a new book and solved telekinesis. He said he could influence people far away with his power of thought. It didn't even affect those nearby. With red lettering on the black cover, It said” techniques for developing spiritual powers." I felt like laughing when I saw the book come out of cross-border publications. 🙂At one point, he decked out and ran and hung out the window half to his waist! Only his butt in shorts could be seen “I am in love with love, as Zeki Moren said: I love it!.."he shouted.I was thinking about where it came from to Zeki Müren!…"Where is the strong man who will take this noble woman! HAAA, TELL ME! WHERE'S MY WHITE HORSE RICE?"he blared. "He's definitely not here!” I said to myself. 🙂 Returned to us. He was sweating like an appendage. He was the type to be a goalpost when he played ball in the street.He looked deep into my eyes: He had a side that humiliated people. It was as if he was looking from the opposite side of the binoculars to see them as small. I looked like a solid object.And then he started complaining about the hairdresser who cut his hair wrong. Filhakika's hair was cut like crazy girls in the neighborhood. Trust and I made eye contact. “You're getting the evil eye, girl, the evil eye!"he faded. He was comforted by taking refuge in this secluded port. I put a drink in Dilan's empty glass. He raised his head slowly and pinched his eyelashes. The heat wave in his eyes melted a grain of ice in my mouth. From the crease on the back of her dress, pink lacy underwear was visible. He had a provocative sexuality…*Handan suddenly turned on the TV. He changed channels so fast., one jumped to the other before it opened. He wanted everyone to see his satellite TV with hundreds of channels.So we like Güven ... "he has expensive TV"? We didn't have a TV in our house when we were kids. We were so poor that the word “poverty” came into the country after us. As he sleeps, he looks out the window and likens the rain to movie frames. I'd dream and just sleep…*I didn't see a clock on the wall; we didn't have the concept of time. In one canal, guests were like dogs barking into the opposite garden. The end of the argument bothered me that they hugged and came home. And at home, it was chaotic. I was in a good mood; I was singing a song I changed in a hoarse voice: When I say I want to tell a joke; Guven made a phone call with his little finger and scratched his ear hard. Dilan spoke little, listened with extreme interest. He was sensitive, like putting cream on a child's scrawny shoulder. Handan was playing with his phone. It was about shopping, jewelry, luxury cars, sex, and football. No one talked about poverty. Maybe this was the last place he would talk. I wish I'd been born fifty years ago and not seen today! Because that night, my head was like Ashura, and a Dostoevsky book flew out of my brain!*Everyone began to retreat to the rooms…We're alone with the trust; in a whisper; - I said I want Dilan. - He said My son Dilan had his period, or I'd have arranged it anyway. - Then we don't have to do it with Handan, even if we stick it in him, he won't feel it, chubby. He said If you don't sleep with Handan, you'll close our door in this house, you have all my hope. - Son, am I an English Kemal, what hope, what mission? Everything's gone, and I have to stick it in Handan? I said. And why aren't you going to bed?- My son is very close friends with my girlfriend. Then we'll break the plan. Brother, lay the pipe, please!I found the bedroom. My hand turned slowly on the knob of the door. As the Gladiators entering the arena said to the Great Emperor: “The man who will soon die greets you!” Every unwanted sex meant a little dying… He lay in his bed like a consul's dog. In the room, the Red Night Light was burning to death. The closed curtains were bindall red. The golden satin cover of the round bed was on the floor. ” You know how unworn underwear smells, and you smell like it, " he said. It turned and stuck to my lips. His mouth smelled of rotten straw. It got harder and harder; there were teeth marks all over me. He was eating me alive. His tongue went in and out of my mouth like a little snake. Enthusiasm is ecstatic and makes a person insensitive to the outside world. I patted his ass, like he was growing all the time.Her breasts and vagina were slowly bubbling like Well-fermented dough. I sucked your chest and wanted to split it. He was one of the infinite; he could not be cut off. Then it could be razor-sharp!For him, life was to go to bed, change men, and suffer. His excitement rose from his toes to his alarmed lips. Everything he touched seemed to warm up; he was obviously impressed with me.He took my dick in his mouth, and after a while he came out on top of me. It was narrower than I thought; I was rubbing it with sandpaper. It was an irritation of inverted hair. I just started sliding in. Fortunately, he came right away. Then I came too. I've always counted your reflex: 1-2-3… 19-20-21… The curtains of the room from the wind are like a cinema decor, he disappeared into the Red night and came back.Then I got up and washed. He was looking at me when I came in.I sat on the bed and I said,” Are we going to do it again?" “How is that a word, shame?" said. Right, it was a shame if he was asked, but it was good if he fucked up… I went quietly to the balcony; My Shadow did the same: Suffocating air approaching dawn Neighbor's noisy running air conditioner Television that no one watches Moneyed partisans with dung brains arguing on screen Baby crying from next door Primate who listened to arabesques in the park and broke bottles Spiritual fatigue collapsing on my shoulders Longing for my old blanketI put my back against the wall and fell to the floor. On the balcony, air conditioning water dripped where I was sitting. Listening to these life-shortening noises, I began to wait for the morning. I left the house this morning while everyone was asleep. I got on an empty bus and went to the back. My soul was crippled, I was humiliated. But I had a strange pleasure in pain.He was always going to live in that luxury house. The time will come, he will move into a skyscraper. And I was just a fingerprint on the window of that Skyscraper. I was a minimum-wage Nefer for a cleaning company.He had never suffered from misery; he did not know what absence was. He read books, but it was just licking pages with his eyes. Some think it's a fight book without reading Fight Club; others read the back of gum paper and discover the secrets of the universe.I was a baby rabbit that escaped from a snake. But the poison needed time to take over my body. Faced with this fact, the bodies of orphaned children cut me off. I could feel it, even my fingertips were aching with pain. And this action was against my team.*Flower dust from the garden The smell of food covering the apartment Ashy garbage barrel A gray cloud of flies resembling dust Dedicated to making you happy, more precious than first love That dirty stray animal that loves you more than your mother, waiting for you every day Feveran eden puberty cravings Here I was back in my friendly neighborhood, where I belonged. Actually, I didn't miss them, I missed myself in those years!.. A week later… Looking for trust: - Why haven't you called for how many days? - I'm the one who doesn't call when the phone doesn't ring. - One more word and I'll kill you!!! Don't even sneeze! - Why? - I know you slept with her! 3 if you entered the Oro*pu kids competition. I said You will. He walked away from the handset to avoid laughing. - Why 1. not? quoth. - Because Charlie Chaplin Is In Monte Carlo., He entered the Charlie Chaplin-like contest and finished 3rd. It has happened. I said. And I added: Trust ... I wish I hadn't returned your calls. I said, Maybe you'd come to see me, and I unplugged the phone.Human beings have beautiful periods of suckiness. All of us we tried. First barbecue with the Dragon, and then say, “my hair is on fire”! I chased a rich girl for one night!.. And it was my fault!So, which one tells me better: “If you can't figure out who the sucker is at the gambling table for the first half hour, that means you're the sucker!"the Rounders movie?He drove the royalties from his unwritten novel to the gambling table; and to himself, “When are you going to write a novel?"said the casino owner, “Here I am writing!” Dostoevsky, who can?“A woman presents herself as an idol to the powerless, an object to the strong.” he said and burned all his notes in his hotel room in Turin, Pavese, who committed suicide with 21 sleeping pills?Virginia Woolf, the mermaid who entered the River Ouse with stones in her pockets?Cut off the earlobe and put it in a napkin, Van Gogh who sent it to a fah thing in blood?“I was told I should be afraid of whites, but here all the crimes are committed by my race."the black artist who said" 2Pac? Tell me which one?..We're mad at them, but... aren't my brothers responsible? Doctrine: "when you're young, you think you can connect with anyone. And then you realize it's only gonna happen once in a lifetime.” – Before Sunset