#jeff please just take pity on the old man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

this-is-all-unreal · 11 months

Text

My Dear Friend

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Warning: mention of death, and injury.

—Bruce, Tim and Dick had split up in the night. Bruce decided to see what he could find out about Margaret's first adopted family. He changed out of his batsuit and changed into his business suit. He walked up to the house of Loyd and Kelly Jefferson. It was the perfect example of the middle class dream. Nice white picket fence and all. It was one house of many similar looking ones in a suburb a few miles outside of Gotham city limits. Bruce walked up and knocked. A woman in her 50s answered. She was the picture perfect house maker, white apron and all.

"Hello ma'am I'm sorry to disturb you so late but I was looking into adopting a girl named Margaret Arthur and I found your name on an old adoption form. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?" As soon as the woman heard Margaret's name her eyes hardened. She told him she didn't care who he was; she didn't want to hear anything he had to say about her and slammed the door. Bruce was walking off the steps when a man opened the door. He was bald and looked like any man you'd see working a 9 to 5 in an office building. He asked if he heard him right. If he was asking about little Margie. The man let Bruce in and told him how happy he was to hear someone was wanting to take Margaret in, especially by the Wayne family. The name had meaning even outside Gotham.

The two men laugh and enjoy a talk about their children. Mrs. Jefferson returned with drinks and listened to the two chat. It was killing Bruce. He finally asked why they gave her up after 10 years. They both stiffened when they were forced to remember.

"If you are really interested in adopting her don't let us ruin that." Mrs. Jefferson said wanting to wash her hands of it all.

"Kelly honey" Mr. Jefferson said in a sigh. Bruce pressed the matter and it was Mrs. Jefferson who broke first.

"Do you like the Omen Mr. Wayne? Because that's what she is." She snapped. A small argument broke out between the married couple. they bickered about how serious some event Bruce wasn't aware of was.

"Please tell me all you can." Bruce asked, sounding almost desperate.

"Well you know about the poor thing's mother. She was a few screws short of a set God rest her soul. I'll never understand how she was legally able to keep a child. Or how she got to husband but according to the case worker she was in and out of state run facilities her whole life. Schizophrenia maybe?" The man asked, looking at his wife who shrugged her shoulders.

"I think she set the fire that burned the house down but no one really knows what started it." She interjected. Bruce nodded

"I understand what got her to you two but what made you give her up?" The couple looked at each other. Then the wife spoke.

The neighbor next door had some kind of accident and Margaret found him right after it happened. The cops think he was cleaning his gun when it misfired. Margaret was home alone. She heard the shot and went over there to check on him. She saw him lifeless in his chair." she stopped speaking as she looked up at him. Her expression was unreadable, maybe it was pity or possibly guilt.

"After that she didn't act like our little girl. She lashed out. We had a little dachshund at the time and Margaret tried, well she tried-" the man was interrupted by his wife.

"The little bitch put him in the oven! We are lucky I work from home. I got him out before it got too hot. She kept screaming that her stupid imaginary friend who did it. That he wanted to make a hot dog. Seeing that body messed her up. She just wasn't right. She never slept. Her grades were plummeting and forget about her helping around the house. I didn't feel safe! She would stare at me with this blank look."

"Excuse me, I need to get a stiffer drink." Mr. Jefferson said as he got up and walked to the kitchen. It was obvious he was crying. Mrs Jefferson looked at Bruce and leaned forward. She asked if she could tell him something that sounded crazy. And she asked that he not judge her. Bruce agreed and she continued

"After we gave Margaret back I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I didn't know I was even pregnant till Margaret told me. She also knew the baby wasn't my husband's. I don't know how she knew." She paused to study his face. Bruce encouraged her to keep going. "The man I had an affair with was the neighbor. My husband had no idea. Margaret had no way of knowing we were very careful but somehow she knew. I asked her how and she lied like she always did and said Felix told her. She threatened to tell Loyd about the affair if I didn't tell him. I lost my temper and hit her. That's when her voice changed. I don't know what it was but it wasn't Margaret. I woke up in a hospital bed Mr. Wayne. She's a danger. I know I wasn't in the right but did I deserve this?" She took off her glasses and pulled out a glass eye. "She bashed my head in. I don't remember her doing it but It had to be her. It took 7 surgeries to save my other eye and put my skull back together. I have more metal in me than some cars nowadays." She quickly popped her eye back in as her husband returned. Bruce thanked them for their time and returned to his patrol. Telling no one about what he learned. He knew that would be a conversation for him and Margaret.

When Bruce met back up with Dick and Tim he learned there was a riot at Arkham earlier in the night and that some of the patients broke into the director's office and he didn't survive the encounter. The patients don't remember what happened or what they did to the director. Bruce was allowed to look at the CCTV. All the patients were calm, some were even under sedation until 9pm when they all left their rooms. At the same time the fire alarm was set off opening up all the rooms. No fire was ever found. In the confusion the patients slipped into the offices. It was an odd situation to say the least. Bruce decided to call it a night.—

I felt arms under me. Carrying me somewhere I was scared to open my eyes. What if it was that hag from the TV again. I smelt the familiar smell of Bruce's cologne and I opened my eyes to see the underside of his chin. I relaxed a little and moved, letting him know I was awake.

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up. I was trying to move you back to your room." He said as he looked down at me. I realized we were almost to the room I had the nightmare (or whatever that was) in. I tried to sit up in his arms and he adjusted his arms to make it harder.

"No, I don't want to go back there. There was something under the bed."

"I know Jason already told me about the nightmare. It's alright they happen to all of us."

"No you don't understand Bruce it was real. She was in the TV. She had this horrible smile!" I say wiggling more as I try to get loose from his hold.

"Margaret just calm down you don't have to if you're that scared." He said effortlessly keeping his grip no matter how much I tried to get free. I stop moving as he stops in the hall.

"What if I sit in there?" He says looking down at me. I think for a second. If anyone would be able to stop that thing it would be Batman I guess and if I am dreaming then he will be able to see there is nothing and tell me definitively. I nod to him.

"I guess that's okay. Didn't bring a Batarang, did you?"

"No but I think I'll be able to manage." He says with a chuckle. He walks into my room and sets me down on the bed. I crawl to the center of the bed.

"Can you look under there?" I ask as I pull the blanket over me. He smiles and crouches down. He looks for a second then stands up and flips on the bathroom light and looks inside there. He turns back to me and shakes his head.

"Not a thing." He says as he sits down in the big plush chair next to the TV. I nod and get settled in. He pulled out his phone and looked down at it and scrolled slowly as he read something. It took a while but soon I fell asleep.

"Why is he here?" I almost leaped from the bed when I heard him. I had never been so excited to hear his voice. It was light out now and Bruce was fast asleep in the chair. "No I'm serious, why is he sleeping in a chair?" He asked again

"I'm so happy to hear you, Felix. I was so scared." I whisper as I hear him laugh.

"Yeah well I was a little busy."

"Doing what?"

"Don't worry about it but you're welcome." I wasn't sure what he meant but I wasn't going to question him right now. "So you really missed me so much?"

"Of course I did. There was this lady on the TV. She was taunting me and then she attacked me. Well I think she did."

"Who are you talking to?" A very sleepy sounding Bruce asked. As he sat up in the chair.

"Felix he's back!" I say with a smile.

"Oh good." He says as he stands up and stretches. "I'm going to go shower. I'll see you at breakfast. Are you okay to be alone?" He asked as he stopped at the foot of the bed.

"I am now that Felix is back."

"Well good welcome back Felix." He says as he scratches his side and yarns. He walks out with a wave. I jump out of bed to show Felix the room.

"Look, we have our own bathroom and TV. I'm only a little scared of it." I say with a laugh.

"I thought we weren't staying?" He asked. I settled down and nodded.

"You're right. Let's have breakfast and say goodbye then we can go."

"No trust me Margaret we should go now. He talked to the Jeffersons. He's going to have questions."

"But all that was you!" I shout back at him. I was so upset to have all this brought up again. I shook my head trying to get the image of the body out of my head. And Mrs. Jefferson. Whatever she had to say wasn't going to be nice.

"They will think it was you just like the Jeffersons did. They raised you for 10 years and didn't believe you. You have a snowball's chance in hell of this family believing you. We got to go." I hated it but he was right. I started my way downstairs. It was much easier with Felix directing me. I got to the front door and pulled on the handle. It didn't open and the keypad beeped at me.

"Felix help. What's the code?" I ask as I pull hard on the door. I see the numbers lighting up like he was pressing them.

"Hold on I'm trying." He said. He had tried to guess. Soon it makes an angry beeping sound and a lid closes over the keypad and a little circle opened up. I think it was a retina scanner like from a spy movie. I heard heavier footsteps coming from down the stairs. I turn around and see Jason walking over. My mind raced with excuses but also questions. I was terrified of what he could possibly want.

"Do you really want to go outside? No shoes or coat?" He asked. He wasn't smiling or even looking at me like I was crazy, he was just staring. I look down at my bare feet then back to him before nodding yes. He leaned forward and scanned his eye. The keypad opened back up and he typed in the code. The door unlatched and I opened it. I started to step outside. The sidewalk had been shoveled and the driveway was plowed. The bitter cold snapped at my skin as I started to run across the driveway. I came to a large hill covered in fluffy white snow. I got down on my butt and slid down. I had never been so cold in my life. I gained speed as I slid. I hit a bump and fell on my side making me start to roll down the hill on my side. I thought I was going to be sick. Eventually it stopped but I was covered in a thick coat of snow. I could feel Felix brushing it off me as I got up.

"Maybe we should go back. Your skin is getting really red." My jaw was chattering too much for me to answer but I wasn't going to stop. I felt like this was my only chance. I wasn't sure how far I ran but I started to see big buildings. I couldn't feel my feet or face. The fleece pajamas didn't keep me very warm once they were wet from snow. I found my way into the city. I got strange looks from everyone I passed. I felt someone tug on my arm. It was a lady not much younger than Bruce.

"Oh sweetheart you shouldn't be out in the cold like this." She said as she gently pulled me inside a coffee shop with her. I was shaking and shivering. "Gino get me a tarp or something from the back to warm her up?" She said looking at the old man behind the counter. He quickly went to the back and came back with some kind of packing blanket. They wrapped it around me.

"I'll make her some hot coco or something." Gino said as he started heating up some milk.

"Can you talk? What happened to you?" The lady asked as she tried to dry me off. I warmed up pretty quickly and nod. "Where are your parents? Can I call someone?"

"Tell her you're from Metropolis. Ask her for bus money."

"I got lost. I need to get back to Metropolis. My mom's gonna be worried." I say through shivers.

"Let me call the cops they can-"

"No please! No cops, my dad's in trouble with the law and if they drop me off at home they might try and take him away again." I say pulling it out of thin air.

"Nice touch."

"Okay okay ummm" She looked around for a second trying to figure out what to do.

"Deb, get her on a bus." Gino said as he pointed to the bus stop outside the shop. She looked down at me unsure then nodded.

"You know your address?" She asked. I nodded quickly. I couldn't believe this was working. Gino hurries and hands her some money from the tip jar than the hot coco. I felt bad but I had to get out of Gotham at any cost. The bus was pulling up so she quickly helped me up and we walked out to the bus. She asked if Metropolis was one of the stops and to her surprise the bus driver said it was so she handed the bus driver the money and helped me on the bus and made sure the packing blanket was around me. She let me take a few sips of the coco before she had to take it. The bus had a strict no drinks rule. She got off the bus and stood at the curb. I sat next to a window and waved at the woman and man as we pulled away. I relaxed into the seat. I wasn't sure how long the ride would be but the bus was heated and I had a horrible thick blanket now.

"Good job. So from Metropolis will go to Central City or even Star city maybe."

"Then what?" I ask, looking at my own reflection in the window.

"Then we lay low, make some money somehow and from there we can do whatever we want No case workers, no shity foster homes, no Arkham, no Wayne family. We will be free." He says as I feel the seat press down next to me. Then I feel his head lay on my shoulder. I almost felt bad. Bruce seemed so nice but if Jason said was true it wasn't going to end well for me. He wasn't going to let me leave and that scared me most of all.

People came and went, the bus made alot of stops but no one said anything or seemed to notice me. Eventually it was the last stop and we were at Metropolis. I got up and hugged the packing blanket around me tighter as I left the bus and felt the cold air again. I coughed and hid my face in the blanket. I walked for a little bit. It was much more windy here but at least the snow wasn't so high. I cut through an alley to get out of the wind. My cough was getting worse.

"Don't tell me you are getting sick."

"Shut up, it's just the air drying my throat." There were two men at the end of the alley. I didn't pay them no mind. I just wanted to find a clean place to sit. Felix moved some cans to the side and pulled over a milk crate for me to sit on. I plopped down and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes for a second. I hear feet approaching so I open them and see the men much closer now.

"What's a kid in such nice PJ's doing out here?" One man asked. I didn't answer.

"Hey, my friend asked you a question." The other said.

"I guess you don't need this then." One said as he pulled at the blanket. I just let it go but Felix didn't. Unfortunately for the man Felix pulled so hard back the man fell forward and almost hit his face against the wall. I wasn't sure if they were on something or just missed the fact it wasn't me who pulled the blanket. The other started to laugh at his friend. I stood up and pulled the blanket with me so Felix wouldn't get aggressive and try to pull the blanket from them again.

"No one would miss them"

"No" I say flatly.

"No, what?" One of them asked. I backed away as one took a few steps closer.

"I think my buddy deserves that after what you did." The guy was completely fine. He just stumbled. I looked up at him hoping Felix wouldn't have to do something. My back hit something hard. I figured it was the wall so I stopped moving. The men looked above me. They looked horrified. I thought it was Felix so I didn't say anything.

"Is there a problem here?" A deep voice asked from above me. I turned around and almost screamed in surprise. It was Superman himself.

#batman #dc comics #fanfic #oc stuff #platonic batman #slight yandere #bruce wayne #jason todd #metropolis #gotham #superman #clark kent

23 notes · View notes

princehrry-writings · 3 years

Text

Daddy?

happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.

word count: 5180

please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!

warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.

Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.

Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.

She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.

And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.

And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.

He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.

“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.

When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.

“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.

One page, in particular, caught his attention.

Golden, Golden, Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus

So you take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Brown my skin just right

“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.

“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.

“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.

“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.

“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.

“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”

“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”

“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.

Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.

“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.

“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.

“Looks just like you as well,”

“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.

“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.

“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.

Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.

---

“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.

“Ok,”

“Come open the door,” He said.

“Wait what? You’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”

“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.

The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.

“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.

This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.

---

Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).

The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.

“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.

Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.

But life is full of surprises.

“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.

Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.

“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.

Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.

“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.

“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.

Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.

“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.

“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”

“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.

“What?”

“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”

“Harry, I-”

“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.

It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.

“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.

He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.

---

“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.

“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).

Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.

“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.

“Stella, baby-”

“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.

“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.

“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.

Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.

“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.

“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.

How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.

---

“Daddy!”

“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.

Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.

No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.

What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.

“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.

“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.

Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.

“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.

This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?

So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.

“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.

---

Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.

Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.

Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.

Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.

“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.

“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.

“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.

She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.

---

Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.

Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.

“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.

“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.

“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.

“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.

“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.

“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her

“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.

“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.

“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.

“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.

“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.

So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.

“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.

“Yes, it is baby!”

“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.

“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.

The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.

“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.

“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.

“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”

“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.

“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.

“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.

He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.

He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.

“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.

“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.

“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.

Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.

1K notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

Text

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

tag list: @sunflowerryvol6 @trulymadlykiki @kaybee87 @thurhomish @tpwkhoney @70s-harry @la-cey @sing-me-a-song-harry @morethanamelodyy @theresnooneheretosave @ihearthemcallingforyou @sunfloweratheart @g0bl1nqueen @millennial-teenybopper @rainbowparadiseharry @justsaying20 @andwhenshesays @harryinsweatersandbandanas @harrys-cherriesss @harrys-cherrry @cronias13 @burberryharold @15christyxoxo @dayxoxodreamer @stepping-into-the-light @mvaldez7821 @barnestann @styles217 @fineelineee @ursamajor603 @tayrenea @hayyyayy @mellamolayla @lovelylemonadaddict @harrystyle-ish @harryspirate @apples2019 @rainbowbutterflyboy @goldeng1rl8 @elisassblog @staceystoleyourheart @themonsterheloved @greatestview @splendidsunsetsx @awomanindeniall @bequietdee @greeneyesandtea @sonofabitchstyles @sunsetcurve-h @dangerousdelusiondreamland @hsfics @abundanceofsoph @golden-asoab @giveyourheartabreak-xx

320 notes · View notes

anti-plexus · 3 years

Text

Slenderman x Child!Reader:

Title: Shadow In The Night

Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: Blood, pain. But awesome Slenderdad vibes.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 80 FOLLOWERS! I FEEL SO APPRECIATED! 😁

—————

The forest was quiet, only disturbed by the occasional crackle of the frost-kissed trees swaying together in the wind.

A crow cowed, it's throaty cry bouncing off the frozen trees. It's beady eyes silently scanned over the forest until they landed on something quite curious.

A human, pathetically stumbling through the snow. The human's clothes were torn and spotted with crimson blood. The snow left in their wake was also stained vermillion in some places.

Huff... Huff...

Your breath came out in frantic puffs as you stumbled along. You felt numb, cold, hopeless.

Suddenly, your legs buckled, sending you crashing down into the snow. A wave of icy pain washed over you as you lay there, completely helpless. Black spits danced before your eyes, blotting out your sight. You gritted your teeth, not from the pain, but from the crushing defeat you now felt.

I... I will not die!

That was a silly thought. Your chances of death were steep in this barren forest. But still, there is always a chance.

Huff... Huff...

Your eyelids began to sag.

No no no no no-

Your chest heaved as your lungs attempted to suck in more life-giving air.

Thump.... Thump....

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you fought to stay awake. Your eyelids fluttered shut, then open again.

I can't...

Crushing defeat won. Your whole body's sense of feeling spiked, the became numb. So numb. So cold.

So alone.

————��

Slenderman did not expect to find anything of interest on his morning patrol. However, he was less-than-surprised when he found a half-dead child about a mile into the forest.

The most logical thing to do, he reasoned, would be to kill the child where it lay, forever ending it's suffering. But Slenderman rarely did anything logical, so in a stroke of pity for the small human, he picked up the child and carried it back to the mansion.

"Who the fuck is that?" Jeff, one of his pastas, asked as soon as Slenderman teleported into the mansion living room.

"I do not know, Jeff, but they are not to be harmed."

Jeff scoffed. "Whatever, you killjoy bastard."

Slenderman chose not to answer. Jeff was a rather volatile being, picking a fight with him was something Slender did not want nor wish to do. After all, he had more important things to do.

Without speaking another word, Slender teleported to the medbay. Eyeless Jack was there, per usual, and looked a bit startled by Slenderman's sudden appearance.

"Jack," Slender rumbled, laying the child down on one of the available cots. "Please patch up this child. No harm is to come to them."

Jack looked between Slenderman and the motionless child on the cot. This is new, he thought, Slender usually eats any children he finds. But it was not for Jack to decide, if Slender wanted the child alive, it would stay alive. That was all to it. “Uh, sure. As you wish.”

Slenderman nodded approvingly. “Good.”

As he was not required to speak anymore, Jack reached for the first aid kit on a chair near the child’s cot.

A quick visual assessment revealed a multitude of small cuts dotting the kid’s frail-looking body.

“What happened to you?” Jack mumbled as he pulled a thick stack of bandages and antiseptic from the kit.

“I do not know.” Slender answered, though Jack’s question was not directed towards him.

Jack remained silent, choosing to focus on the task at hand. The child laying in front of him was small, too small. They were smaller than Sally, even though they had to be older.

Poor kid, Jack thought as he finished bandaging them up.

"Thank you, Jack," Slender rumbled.

"Anytime."

"You may go now, I will take over here."

Jack found it preposterous that Slender was ordering HIM out of HIS own medbay, but he obeyed regardless. "Call me if anything happens."

"Will do."

With that, Jack silently exited the medbay. After all, it was around lunchtime.

—————

The first thing your tired body registered was that you were warm. The comforting heat that enveloped you was nothing short of amazing.

You slowly opened your eyes, half-hoping to see your old bedroom. However, your eyes were met with a blindingly white room.

Where... Where am I..?

"I see you are awake, child."

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice.

You gasped in fear.

Before you was a tall man. A tall, faceless man.

"W-Who are y-you?"

"I am Slenderman." The man's voice was deep, yet strangely soothing. If not for his facelessness, you might have hugged him.

You gulped and forced your voice to remain steady. "Where am I?"

"The Creepypasta Mansion. Well, the medbay, to be exact."

Confusion replaced fear. "Where is that?"

"I am not at liberty to share where we are exactly, but this is Earth."

Well, duh-

"That's good to know." You tried to joke, somehow feeling more and more comfortable in 'Slenderman's' presence.

"Tell me, child. What were you doing out in the snow? Wounded, no less."

"I ran away from home." You answered truthfully.

"Why?"

You grimaced. "Abusive parents. As cliché as that is. I'm sure you've heard it all before."

"I have, but that doesn't make it any less disgusting. Human parents are terrible."

"Agreed." You giggled.

Strangely enough, the more you talked with Slenderman, the more you wanted to hug him.

—————

I'm not sure if I should make a part two or just leave y'all hanging on this miserable cliffhanger 😅

I'll make a Part 2 if I get 5 comments asking for it. :)

39 notes · View notes

misssquidtracy · 4 years

Text

The Sweet Smell of Manly Pride

Written as part of @gumnut-logic SensorySunday: Smell. Set just before the boys re-enter Earth’s atmosphere in the Zero-XL after rescuing Jeff from the Oort Cloud. Being stranded in deep space for eight years without even a can of deodorant must have left the Tracy patriarch smelling pretty ripe xD.

Raw humour. Sorry not sorry.

Starring Gordon, because he’s the husband and I loves him <3

-x-

Gordon’s tolerance for body odour was surprisingly high.

It had to be.

Considering the aquanaut spent a good portion of his life two to three thousand meters below the ocean’s surface, he’d become intimately familiar with a variety of fruity nasal cocktails. His habit of skipping showers in favour of re-watching seasons one through twelve of Into the Unknown didn’t help either.

Eh, what the heck. Being sandwiched inside a tight suit and at the mercy of Thunderbird Four’s air conditioning would leave even the most fastidious person smelling a little ripe.

Plus, it wasn’t like Lady Penelope could smell him at the bottom of the South Sandwich Trench anyway.

Of course, there was body odour and then there was body odour.

“Eugh!” Gordon clamped a hand over his nose and glared accusingly at his brothers, “Okay, who just let loose?”

Four pairs of eyes locked onto Alan, who quacked in outrage.

“Why are you all looking at me? I’m trapped inside a pressurised suit over here!” the youngest snapped, his face the same colour as Thunderbird Three.

“We all are, Alan,” John countered, his eyes narrowing to turquoise slits, “Gordon, can you be a bit more specific? An unpleasant odour could be an indication that the charcoal filter needs replacing.”

Gordon elevated his nose and began to scent the air like a bloodhound, “Whatever it is, it’s pretty nasty. Seriously, am I the only one getting it?”

Over on Alan’s right, Scott shrugged, “Apparently. Care to elaborate on what exactly ‘nasty’ smells like?”

On guard in case anyone dared to throw the ‘he who smelt it dealt it’ line at him, Gordon spent the next three minutes offering a variety of olfactory diagnoses for the unknown smell. The options ranged from ‘donkey’s armpit’ and ‘skunk’s butt’, to perhaps the most insulting of all, ‘Virgil’s socks’.

Of course, Virgil was thoroughly offended.

Just when had Gordon sniffed his socks?

He would never sleep again.

“Ugh, man! It’s getting worse!” Gordon wheezed, wafting the air frantically with his hand, “Alan, how long until we’re home?”

“About forty minutes, depending on turbulence,” Alan replied, absently flicking a button on the dash, “I’ve just requested clearance from orbital patrol.”

Gordon’s eyes widened in alarm, “I won’t last that long. John, can you pull up my will? There are a few things I need to change before I become unsound of mind.”

While John was preoccupied with ignoring Gordon in favour of cataloguing a few nearby asteroids, a new voice piped up.

“What you’re smelling is me, Gordon. Sorry for the trouble, but there ain’t a whole lot I can do about it at the moment.”

Virgil sighed before throwing a playful glance over his shoulder, “Dad, you just sit back and relax. I swear, we can’t smell a thing.”

Gordon begged to differ. After unclipping his safety belt, the aquanaut pushed himself free from his seat and drifted over towards his father. Indeed, the stink intensified the closer he got.

“Ugh, dad!” Gordon turned his face away before pinching his nose, “You reek! When was the last time you had a shower?!”

Jeff’s blue eyes twinkled in humour, “About eight years ago. Unfortunately the Oort Cloud doesn’t offer its residents indoor plumbing. Reckon I went noseblind after the first five months,” Jeff smiled as he extended his arms above his head in a fake stretch, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would you rate me, son?”

“Thirty!” Gordon gagged, groping desperately for the oxygen masks the Zero-XL was equipped with, “Seriously dad, I’m amazed you’re not the epicentre of a fully functioning ecosystem!”

Jeff smiled proudly, “Jeff Tracy Vintage, available at select stores only,” the Tracy patriarch hesitated for a second before offering Gordon his armpit, “Take a whiff, son. It’ll put hair on your chest.”

Scott shared a look of amusement with John, Virgil and Alan as their father snaked an arm out and yanked Gordon in for a hug. The aquanaut made a sound of muffled distress as he whacked fruitlessly at the arms enveloping him.

“Careful, Gordo,” Virgil warned with a laugh, “We just got him back, don’t break him yet.”

Gordon made no indication he’d even heard Virgil, his energy focussed on trying to escape the noxious grip he was imprisoned in.

“Seriously, I can’t smell anything,” John declared, sticking his nose in the air and sniffing for emphasis, “It must have something to do with the direction of the air circulation.”

Brains adjusted his glasses before swivelling to face Jeff, “I must say I’m incredibly p-proud of your suit’s durability, M-Mr Tracy. It managed to keep you warm in the Oort Cloud’s f-freezing temperatures for over eight years and hasn’t suffered any m-major damage aside from the t-tear on your thigh.”

Jeff inclined his head in gratitude, “You build things to last, Brains. I knew my suit wouldn’t give up until I did.”

Enveloped in the stinky wonderland that was Jeff’s armpit, Gordon felt very much like giving up.

“You done teasing your old man yet?” Jeff asked, affectionately rubbing his knuckles across the aquanaut’s scalp, “Because we’ve still got thirty minutes of flight time remaining if you haven’t.”

“Please!” Gordon begged, his tone pitiful, “At least let me amend my will!”

Jeff was about to reply with something smart about Gordon’s lack of valuable possessions, but was stopped by a weird smell assaulting his nose, “Hold up, something pongs around here. Gordon? Have you been forgetting to floss?”

Almost on cue, a can of easy cheese rolled out of the storage compartment above Gordon’s empty seat and clattered onto the floor. The aquanaut’s caramel eyes widened as an idea hit him.

“No dad, I take great pride in my oral hygiene,” Gordon replied, twisting his face towards Jeff and taking extra care to exaggerate his a’s and h’s.

“Eugh, Gordon! Your breath!” Jeff rasped, holding his son at an arm’s length before glaring accusingly at the can of cheese rolling innocuously past John’s foot, “Don’t tell me you still eat that junk?”

“It’s his go-to deep space snack,” Alan informed, “If you think the cheese breath is bad, wait until the cheese farts start coming. We’ll all be amending our wills if one of those escapes.”

Jeff grimaced as Gordon blew in his face, “Maybe we should confine him to the airlock for the remainder of the flight. Brains? Can we rig up a safety belt in there for him?”

“I’m s-sure I can organise something,” Brains replied, before unclipping himself and drifting towards the rear hatch, “J-John, could you kindly give me a hand?”

“F.A.B,” the redhead replied, freeing himself from his shoulder restraints and floating across the control deck, “Dad, you get Gordon inside. I’ll help Brains stabilise the door.”

With Gordon tucked under his arm like a roll of carpet, Jeff nodded and pulled himself through the airlock’s doorway. He was just preparing to release his hold on the aquanaut when the door suddenly slammed shut.

“John?” Jeff called, his brows knitting together in confusion, “Brains? Open up! You locked me in as well, you fools!”

Back at the helm, Scott shared a look of relief with Virgil, “Ah, thank goodness. I couldn’t have kept that up for much longer.”

“Tell me about it,” Virgil muttered, reaching into the compartment above his head and retrieving a can of air freshener, “Things were going so well until Gordon opened his mouth.”

“It was the right thing,” John exclaimed, pointedly ignoring the bangs and screams that were starting to emanate from the sealed airlock, “Dad may be medically stable, but we won’t know the exact state of his mental health until we’re back home. Until then, it would be wise to refrain from making direct comments about his physical state.”

“Agreed,” Alan replied, before twisting around to gaze in amusement at the airlock door, “Think they’ll be okay in there?”

“Of course,” Virgil replied, popping the top off the air freshener and spraying a liberal amount around the chair Jeff had been sat in, “What better way to bond after eight years of being apart than being locked in an eight foot by eight foot airtight room together?”

John cringed as he made the final preparations for the Zero-XL’s atmospheric re-entry, “I think I’ll stick to a catch up over coffee.”

-x-

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds tag #thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #scott tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy

61 notes · View notes

caprina-mints · 4 years

Text

The Creepypasta Turning Into Kids for 1 Week and Their S/O has to Take Care of them:

Ask me if you want a Part 2 :3

Toby :

◈ Lots of cuddles and smooches from you

◈High Key loves to be carried by you and wrapping his arms around your neck.

◈ Will Cry and have terrible Panic attacks when you put him down and leave.

◈ " Toby what's wrong sweetie? I just went to the bathroom"

◈ " Y-you l-l-left M-me! D-Don't l-leave p-please I I-I L-love Y-ou"

◈ Your heart going so soft for this sweetheart that you scoop Toby up and give Toby soothing hugs .

◈a lot of pecks and small kisses landing on his cheeks.

◈This Little Toby is always hungry so he asks you to make his favorite food all the time.

◈ He watches you cook while sitting on his stool in adoration.

◈ Starts yelling I Love You for no reason and startles you everytime.

◈ Constantly asking you to give him a kiss.

◈ Bath time was His Favorite time of the day because you two bathe together.

◈ He likes to wash your hair for you and secretly uses your shampoo so you two will smell the same.

◈ You Two always hang out in the living room and he always falls asleep every time while laying on your tummy.

◈ One Time when you two fell asleep on the couch he suddenly turned back to normal and when you woke up you found a very naked Toby wrapping his arms around your waist.

Jeff the Killer :

✧ " Noo! Y/n! I'm a fucking Kid! My Dick is so small! "

✧You had to Comfort Jeff Because the poor smile child was traumatized by what he had become.

✧ " How the fuck am I supposed to make people go to sleep when I'm this tiny!? "

✧It consist of him being a brat and complaining all the time.

✧He still acts the same unlike Toby. But took advantage of his current form to boss you around.

✧So you got back at him by forcing him to wear a fairy costume given by Sally.

✧Revenge had never been this sweet.... Until he started crying.

✧Wtf he actually cried so now you're carrying him around while slowly cradling him and giving him soft kisses on his forehead.

✧He took advantage of it again and he was groping your boobs while sobbing and acting pitiful.

✧You let him have his way but you immediately dropped him when he slid his hand inside your shirt.

✧He started crying again and this time you shoved a candy inside his mouth to shut him up.

✧He kept spitting it out but you shove another one every time he did it.

✧" Jeff Put the Knife down! "

✧ You ended up treating him since he cut himself with his knife multiple times.

✧" But I wanna go out! "

✧He was being sulky because you took his knife away and now he won't eat so you had to feed him.

✧ Days later During Bath time where you were supposed to bathe him he suddenly turned back and let's just say he snuck up behind you and the two of you didn't just take a bath inside the bathroom ;3

Kagekao :

✤You didn't know about it for the majority of the days until he suddenly sneaked up on you when you were in your bed and stole a kiss.

✤" Look y/n! I'm a kid now! I can pull even cooler pranks like this! "

✤ He started pulling pranks on everyone and it took you a lot of persuading to stop everyone from burning kagekao.

✤ " kagekao! No wine! "

✤ " But I'm Thiiirsttyyyy! "

✤You were his next Victim and it ended so Bad that you had to ignore him and locked yourself in your room for the whole day.

✤ You Ignored him and he stayed outside your door knocking and saying sorry.

✤ Soon he started banging on your door violently and you were taking none of it so you put on your earphones and listened to music.

✤ You felt bad but what he did made you so angry that you wanted to strangle him even if he was a kid.

✤ You felt really guilty when you woke up and 4 hours had passed but you could still hear him banging outside.

✤ You opened the door and acted tough but once you saw him with his teary and heartbroken expression you melted.

✤ You felt even worst when you saw his tiny clawed hands bruised and bloody from knocking on your door.

✤ When you hosited him up he wrapped his tiny arms around your neck and started crying and saying sorry.

✤ It broke your heart and you started soothing him and telling him it was fine and you were sorry too for being too hard on him.

✤ While treating his bloody hands you couldn't help but start shedding tears at how bad his hands were.

✤ He panicked and thought he did something wrong and started saying sorry again you shushed him with a kiss on the cheeks. You gave his knuckles a kiss after you Bandaged his hands.

✤ It didn't take long for him to turn back and luckily you two were in your room when he turned back. He was asleep and naked at that time and you were awake.

✤ You climbed on top of him and gave him a long kiss even though he was asleep but it didn't take long for him to respond.

✤ " I love you " You muttered after the kiss and he replied immediately and everything was nice until he decided to grab your hips and grind you on 'that' area a devious smile on his face.

Masky :

✵ You were happy when you found out about it because how bad could a child masky be instead of his usual self?.

✵ Oh boy, You have never been so wrong in your entire life. He was as difficult as before and he keeps snapping and bossing you around.

✵ and of course you had the courage to taunt him and tease him because he wasn't big or strong enough to man handle you and fuck you to next week.

✵ You were happy about that fact but little masky was so demanding. If you refuse to carry him he stands on something and jumps on you.

✵ This happened a lot of times and he never stops until you carry him...

✵ Like Jeff he starts groping and getting all touchy with your boobs and you had to rip him away from your chest every time.

✵ He's still the same and keeps giving sarcastic and snarky remarks.

✵ Masky and Hoodie were incharge of grocery shopping but since Masky was too little you had to tag along.

✵ guess what? Masky was still the jealous and possessive man as he was before and demands that you carry him while grocery shopping.

✵ And when a man gets too close to you he starts yelling 'mommy!' Or ' Mommy why do you have AIDS? ' and ' Mommy you were a man before? '

✵ And you were so embarrassed and annoyed with his bitch ass attitude so you shoved him towards hoodie and grabbed the cart so you could do the shopping yourself away from masky.

✵ Everything was going well for you but Masky on the other hand kept squirming and struggling against hoodie's hold. And he even threatened hoodie to let him go.

✵ Hoodie had the chance to let him go but after what masky had done Hoodie was more afraid of what You could do to Masky if you were pushed too hard. So he didn't let go.

✵ And the most unbelievable and surprising thing happened.

✵ Masky Cried , whined and wailed like a baby.

✵ He had Big round tears running down his cheeks and you and Hoodie couldn't even think straight because--

✵ What the fuck he knew how to cry? Like what????.

✵But knowing Masky he was doing that so he could get his way so you ignored him. But he got Hoodie in trouble... Also you.

✵ " Help this man is kidnapping me and my mommy doesn't Care! " He shouted while crying and pointing at you and hoodie

✵ Oh shit you and hoodie are in for some deep trouble because of how bratty masky was. You heard a lot of nasty commented from old aunty gossipers in the crowd that was piling up. And those nasty things were about you being a terrible mom.

✵ Hoodie immediately let go of masky when two guards approached him and he ran towards you hugging your leg and he bit your damn leg.

✵ You winced and held back your voice. You were even interviewed by the guards and how irresponsible you were for being so unaware.

✵ Masky had a smug grin the whole time. Hoodie gave up and waited on the counter while masky rode on the Shopping cart.

✵ He kept nagging and ranting about how he's going to get you back but you were so angry and tired with his bullshit that you didn't even have the energy to talk to him or even look at him.so you just continued shopping.

✵ Masky noticed it and when he bit your arm to look at him he was shocked when you glared at him coldly and just pulled your hand away from him .

✵ He tried so many ways to get you to talk and you didn't. He even tried insulting you but it made it worst and this time you didn't even care about him.

✵ Once you were done shopping hoodie was driving the car and you sat on the back seat while Masky sat on the passenger's seat. You stayed silent for the rest of the ride and didn't let masky in your room that night.

✵ You didn't Talk or look at him for the following day and he threw so many temper tantrums that everyone was begging you to talk to him. But you didn't. He fucking deserves it.

✵ A few days passed and you noticed how dark circles were forming under his eyes and he even stopped eating. And one time in the bathroom when you passed by he was drinking an unhealthy amount of pills in one go.

✵ He Kept throwing temper tantrums but one day he just collapsed and you are now worried to death and blamed yourself.

✵ He just lacked sleep and he wasn't eating and the pills didn't help either that's why he collapsed.

✵ You stayed in his room and when he woke up you felt so bad and your heart was crying when he held a crestfallen expression and started crying while sobbing he managed to say " I'm sorry please don't hate me. Don't leave me... I won't do it again don't hate me please" .

✵ He sounded so heart broken and sincere that you couldn't help but hug him and whisper gentle and loving words until he calmed down. You fed him and made sure he slept properly this time .

✵ While sleeping this idiot shoves his hand in your shirt and starts groping you.

✵ you were asleep when you felt a tickling and wet feeling on your chest and when you woke up it was grown up masky on top of you sucking your... Uhhhh.... *winky face *

✵ " I've been through a lot of shit cause of you... And I need my reward "

✵ You knew you were fucked when you found out that your hands were tied on the headboard.

✵ and for the next week he had to carry you around because your legs were as wobbly as a spaghetti.

Jason The Toy maker :

✿ You honestly didn't get to give a proper reaction when A tiny Jason suddenly came running in and clinging on your leg.

✿ You screamed while yelling ' Get away!' expecting that it was Grinny cat again going for your leg because it happened last time cause Kagekao got catnip all over your leg.

✿ When you looked down you saw a very Dejected and hurt Jason who looked like he could cry any minute now

✿ " You don't... Want Me Y/n?..."

✿ You frowned at his adorable and sad reaction and was about to pick him up when his skin color changed and his arm began to rot and turn black. He gripped on your leg with sharp claws and his hair turned white.

✿ He looked up at you with glowing green eyes and said " You want me to get away from... You?.... Never... You're Mine! " His voice echoed through the mansion making you gulp.

✿ He was still scary and possessive and knowing how he still has his abilities you bent down and hosited him up giving him a kiss on his nose, forehead and cheek.

✿ That calmed him down and his appearance turned back to normal.

✿ He was with you the whole time and when you try to leave expect that a raging child demon entity is already clawing on your very being while chanting how you belong to him.

✿ You did everything together and on bath time he insists that you should use his shampoo and every hygiene products he uses so he could smell his scent on you.... A very weird act of scenting.

✿ He asked for a kiss on the lips every time but you would always say no even if it is dangerous... Hello you felt weird kissing a kid.

✿ But he threw a tantrum and started yelling how you didn't love him and lookie here his creations came alive and he was already one step away from destroying everything in the mansion.

✿ So you quickly gave him a quick small peck on his lips and it was good enough to calm him down.

✿ Laughing Jack mistaken Tiny Jason as yours and Jason's Child.

✿ Tiny Jason didn't mind it but when you try to deny it... He goes beast mode.

✿ After the whole ' almost destroying everything in the mansion ' thing. Slenderman asked you to take Jason out for a walk.

✿ You Took him for a walk and brought him to the Park. You thought it was a good idea

✿.. No it was a terrible Idea. a little boy came up to you and told you , you were pretty.

✿ Jason didn't like that and tackled the kid and was attempting to gut him with his claws.

✿ He was successful in killing the child and you ran away with Jason before anyone could notice.

✿ Once far away you scolded him and how he shouldn't do that to innocent and cute children.

✿ He saw your scolding as an act of defending kids that tried to take you away from him so he ran away from you and back at the mansion.

✿ You followed him behind and he stomped to his room locking himself in.

✿ He didn't come out for almost 3 days and you grew worried.you tried knocking before but it was no use. He kept himself in. Even when you pleaded for him to go out he didn't.

✿ You figured that he may be sulking so you used the only way you knew he'd come out... Make him jealous.

✿ You start off by saying how cute The kids were in the park and how you wanted to bring them home . And you didn't even finish what you were saying...

✿ He was already out his door crying and clinging on your leg. And of course you felt.. Terrible.

✿ You carried him back to his room where it was a complete mess with everything wrecked and destroyed. And when you took a closer look at his face it was obvious that he and been crying a lot. Wow kids are really sensitive...

✿ He started saying how bad you were for trying to leave him and that you never really loved him and it ended with Nobody is going to love me because I'm a monster. that was a critical blow to your heart so you clearly explained to him why you did that.

✿ Luckily he was being cooperative and was being understanding for some reason which slightly creeped you out.

✿ He wanted to make toys so you brought him to his creation room where he keeps everything that should be hidden.

✿ you sat him on his chair and turned your back at him facing the table to prepare his tools but...

✿ You felt two cold hands brush against your sides and it had sharp claws that dug on your skin.. It wasn't the same tiny hands that would usually cling on your leg... It was a hand bigger than yours...

✿ you were pulled against a hard chest and a his lips were nibbling on your ear while his clawed hands ran up and down your sides and squeezing your sides occasionally.

✿ " You really enjoy teasing me my little temptress~ Let's see how you'll like it~"

Eyeless Jack :

❋ You Two were out in the woods when he suddenly shrunk down his clothes piling down.

❋ You were Squealing of how adorable Jack was when his head peeked out to look at you.

❋ " Aww, Jack you're so Tinyyyy! "

❋ " Y/n get me outta here "

❋ You offered to carry him but he was being stubborn and insisted to walk on his own.

❋ he still had his hoody on and he was so adorable when he struggled to walk with his baggy hoody.

❋ He kept stumbling on his Hoody and you couldn't take it anymore. You walked even slower than normal because of him.

❋ So you bent down and carried this tiny growling demon.

❋ He was pouting and he even tried showing his tiny fangs to scare you but you found it adorable.

❋ You couldn't help but rub your cheeks with his .

❋ Tiny Jack is a bit of a Tsundere. When you got home he squirmed to get away from you which upset you greatly.

❋ He didn't mind it when other pastas touched him but he'd turn feral when it was you.

❋ You were a bit offended so you gave him what he wanted. You didn't go near him when he was around.

❋ To your surprise he was trying to get your attention. But you didn't give him the satisfaction to have your attention.

❋ Ben had turned to a child 2 days after and you and Ben happened to be close. So you spent your time playing games with him seated on your lap.

❋ E.J didn't like that and he came to the extent of fighting with Ben trying to Tear him away from you.

❋ " Don't touch her! Stay away from her! "

❋ " Jack! Get away from Him! "

❋ He was upset that you defended Ben instead of Him.

❋ " Waaaah! You don't love me anymore! You Like him! "

❋ You had to carry him to your room because he wouldn't stop crying and his tears were black and gooey so you had to give him a bath.

❋ During bath time he kept sniffling and he had his arms crossed.

❋ You didn't say anything about it so you proceeded to wash and massage his hear, scratching the back of his ears since it would always calm him down.

❋ You knew you won his favor when he started purring like a kitten and pressing further onto your touch.

❋ Once you were done he began to act clingy and wouldn't let you leave him.

❋ He even started growling and baring his fangs at the other Creepypasta males who came near you.

❋ If he had the chance he would scent you rubbing his head on your chest and neck.

❋ He cried one time when you couldn't handle his cuteness and bit his cheeks gently.

❋ You kept doing that for the rest of the week and he'd run away everytime but come running back almost immediately.

❋ You woke up at midnight because you were thirsty and tiny Jack was asleep snuggling close to you. So you had to gently move him away. And you went straight to the kitchen.

❋ You were still drowsy and when you placed the glass on the counter a hand gripped onto your wrist and you were spun around aggressively.

❋ You were faced with an Angry looking Jack, he had turned back and he was shirtless but he wasn't completely naked. He had pants on.

❋ " Why'd You Leave? Did I tell you to? "

❋ Anger was radiating off him and you couldn't bring yourself to answer so you kept silent.

❋ He lifted your chin up with his finger and roughly pressed your lips with his cold ones.

❋ He bit down on your lips making it bleed and when he pulled away he had a smirk on his face.

❋ " It's Payback time~"

❋ The next morning you had hickies and bite marks all over your body and you could barely move without flinching.

Hoodie :

❒ You were happy that Brian wasn't as Demanding and Bossy as The others.

❒ He acted more mature and timid and he refuses to let you do anything for him which you found really lovable.

❒ He was a tiny sweetheart and is contented with just having you beside him.

❒ It was nice having him as a soft tiny bean instead of the usual intimidating , cold and a bit forceful Brian.

❒ But don't be fooled though, He still has his clingy side around and when you try to leave;

❒ He'll Threaten to break your legs when he turns back.

❒ which you didn't expect to hear from his cute plump lips.

❒ He has big chubby adorable cheeks that had you swooning and pinching his cheeks.

❒ You couldn't keep your hands away from him. He was so cute and tiny minus his death threats.

❒ When you two eat he always asks to sit on your lap and have you feed gum which makes you laugh everytime.

❒ He likes it when you play with his hair when he sits on your lap .

❒ This tiny fluffball always buries his face on your chest... Ehem.. Boobs.

❒ He appreciates it if you start complimenting him about being the cutest kid you've ever known.

❒ You two had an argument when he killed a man in the convenience store knocking the mountain of canned goods on him.

❒ Because the man had complimented you on how good your ass looked and he didn't mind dating a woman who had a child.

❒ Brian was so pissed at that and he was still as dangerous as he was before.

❒ He was being so unreasonable during your arguments that you walked off leaving the mansion for a walk.

❒ When you came back and it was already dark you saw Brian sitting on the small flight of stairs on the porch holding a flashlight .

❒ When he saw you he was brought into tears and ran towards you full speed tackling you. Which almost knocked you down on the ground.

❒ This kid is heavy. You scooped him up and started apologizing for walking away and he was still trying while scolding you because he was so worried.

❒ masky came out and explained how he and Toby had to hold him down so he won't go chasing you because it was unsafe for someone his size.

❒ You felt sorry and went is due with them and Brian had his face buried in your chest not moving at all.

❒ He had his tiny hands clutching tightly on your shirt like he was afraid you'll run away again.

❒ You took him to your room where you comforted him and promised to stay by his side for as long as you could and you'll always love him.

❒ he was still on your lap facing you with red glassy eyes making your guilt swallow you.

❒ you cupped his cheeks and gave him butterfly kisses all over his face until he started chuckling.

❒ Once you finished , a puff of smoke appeared on Brian and when the smoke cleared he was no longer tiny.

❒ He was big and naked now and he was still on your lap .

❒ He cornered you with a smirk before tearing your top with ease along with the rest of your clothes.

Doctor Smiley :

♢ You honestly didn't know how to react when you opened the door to his torture chamber and saw a tiny Doctor Smiley dismembering a dead body butt naked.

♢ " Ah y/n darling would you mind looking for some clothes for me? "

♢ You just left and came back minutes after holding bear pajamas given by Trenderman.

♢ He didn't like it but he didn't have a choice.

♢ He cleaned himself and wore the bear pajamas and he looked normal for once.

♢ Even though he acted the same he still had the childish spirit that came with his transformation.

♢ He didn't like it when other people carried him but he loves piggyback rides but there was no way he'd actually say it out loud.

♢ He keeps on asking you random questions and if you liked him better that way.

♢ He was energetic and hyper which you never expected from him. But it's understandable he was a kid after all.

♢ He hated bath time and will only take a bath if you join him.

♢ But he gets really bloody and messy because of his 'job' so you had to take a bath at least 7 to 9 times a day which irritates you very much.

♢ You had it with his job and didn't let him work for the following days because he would always get hurt clearly because his tools are way bigger than he expected and he was tiny.

♢ You always had him around you since he was pretty reckless and would try to sneak away and work with every chance he had.

♢ So you kept him on your lap everytime to keep an eye on him and this tiny smiley got even weirder because he lives to grab your hand and nibble and suck on your finger.

♢ He seemed to do this unconsciously when you two are watching a movie in your room.

♢ He was so cute and harmless it was hard to believe he killed people on daily basis.

♢ You didn't expect that he would turn back so soon.

♢ You felt a pair of cold hands brushing on your thighs and you yelped when you saw an adult smiley spreading your legs and latching his lips on your thighs and he began to travel further...

♢ He began to suck and nip your thighs and you did try pulling back... But resistance was futile. That night you didn't get any sleep.

#creepypasta headcanon #Creepypasta #Turnintokids #imagine #creepypastaimagine #Ticcitoby #Kagekao #Jeffthekiller #Masky #Brian #Hoodie #Jason #Jasonthetoymaker #DoctorSmiley #JasonMeyer #TobyErinRogers #TimWright #Caprina_Mints

80 notes · View notes

eirabach · 4 years

Text

Interregnum

1 : the time during which a throne is vacant between two successive reigns or regimes. 2 : a period during which the normal functions of government or control are suspended.

This one is for @gumnut-logic‘s final(?) Sensory Sunday challenge “Sixth Sense” AND it’s canon to Savages (a missing scene between chapters five and six, so, chapter 5.5). I’d say you don’t have to know what’s going on to enjoy, but it would probably help? Otherwise just have at some sad kids being starcrossed in a liminal space. Love you all.

The thing about is knowing, is that it’s an art.

Not like music or painting, not a portrait of a lady or a soft serenade, no, nothing so simple nor so easy as that.

A man can be taught to draw, a child trained to sing, a woman can write ream after ream of nonsense, fill pages with dreams and desires until her fingers bleed and her heart falls into the page an empty husk, her life's work a thing to cast out on the wind.

Knowing is different.

Knowing is being four years old, and a man coming to your door in the dead of night.

It had been the door of the manor, not the door to her room, but it was her door even then. Her mother had been long gone, her father already hardly more than a ghost, and she, the Lady of the house, had tucked herself away on the grand staircase, watching as the dirty faced man in the torn jacket had spluttered in a language she didn't understand, a sack of tools at his feet, a crowbar held tight in his grubby fists. The stranger hadn't seen the narrowing of round blue eyes as he'd concentrated on the lock to her father's study.

He hadn't known, but she had.

She'd known her father would come, known the butler would drag the stranger from her sight, and Nanny would carry her away.

She'd already known what would happen when her father called her down that morning, that he’d tell her, "This is Parker, he's a friend."

The man had smiled at her then through newly broken teeth, and Penelope had nodded, sure and certain, because she is, was, will always be, because knowing is something you're born with. It's a prickle up your spine. The skipped beat. A hum that no one else hears, and Penelope has always known. Good or evil, friend or foe, love or hate. Always. It’s what makes her so very good at her job, so perfect a hostess, so subtle an interrogator. That well honed ability to look a man in the eye, just once, and be utterly and entirely certain of the content of his soul, and it has never failed her, not once.

Until now.

Now the only thing she knows is that she absolutely cannot be seen to cry. Far too unseemly. Weak. Pathetic. The paparazzi smother her as she leaves the hotel, buzzing like mosquitoes as Parker opens the door and she offers them a media smile -- sweet, coquettish, slight -- that she has no idea if she actually achieves.

"Lady Penelope! Lady Penelope do you have any comment on Jeff Tracy's return? Do you --"

The door slams closed, a sign of Parker's wavering restraint, and cuts the reporter off.

Does she have any comment? Not one fit for publication in a family paper that's for sure.

Family, and just the thought sticks in her throat, makes her chest ache and her eyes burn, because God, but she’d thought she’d known that at least. Pitiful, silly girl.

"Milady?" Parker's gentle, because he knows her, and she must look frightful all flustered and wet eyed because when he looks in the mirror she sees the way his brows draw low in concern. "Where to?"

And she doesn't know that, either. Doesn't have a clue, only, "Anywhere, Parker. Anywhere but here."

---

Gordon loves his father.

Loves him with a fierceness that pounds through his veins, that thunders his name in time with the rhythmic smack of the duffle against his spine, the thud of feet against asphalt.

Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

He loves him so much that he hates him.

He hates the way he's so sure, so certain of every damn thing all the goddamn time, and hadn't Gordon been sure? Hadn't Gordon been certain? And then he'd died and then he hadn't --

Two hundred yards ahead of him FAB One merges into New York City traffic, just a pink blur lit by camera flashes with a pull on his heart so hard he feels like it might be torn in two.

Might.

Two just seems kinda restrained, kinda delicate, compared to the crushing, sickening feeling behind his breastbone. Seems like something that might be fixed, somehow, stitched back together when all Gordon's doing is falling apart.

Falling apart and catching the damn car.

Scott's the runner in the family, old skinny legs can eat up the miles like Alan gobbles brownies, but Gordon's no slowcoach. The traffic's on his side, keeping Parker at a crawl, but the pack of salivating paparazzi aren't. They crowd between him and his goal, dark shades and darker grins sharp as shark teeth as he struggles his way through.

"Is that --?"

"Yeah! The one with the rocket?"

"Nah man, the other one, the swimmer."

"What the hell is he --"

He doesn't hang about for the end of that one -- wouldn't know the answer if he did -- instead he barrels through the chattering crowd and launches himself at the back of the car.

He realises, half a second too late, that Parker has ways of dealing with people who are stupid enough to stay on FAB One's tail.

"Aw shit."

---

“What in the blazes?”

She has her compact open, drafting the letter that she absolutely must send to Colonel Casey but has no idea how to write, and the jolt as something slams into the rear of the car sends it skittering to the ground at her feet, the screen cracking as it bounces off the console.

“Parker?”

“Already on it, Milady,” her erstwhile Chauffeur states grimly, his hand moving toward FAB One’s defences as she twists her body round to try and get a better look at whoever has been foolish enough to ram them.

“Oh my -- Parker don’t!”

But it’s too late. She catches a last glimpse of tow-headed blond as thick, dark oil arcs out, and then she’s launching herself at the door of the still-moving car, Parker’s squarks of displeasure blending into the furious clattering of two dozen paparazzos all throwing their cameras up at once.

Gordon lies amongst them, just two huge brown eyes in the pool of filth she’s left in her wake, and, lord above, if that isn’t a thought she doesn’t want to examine too closely.

“Gentlemen,” she says it like she was taught to, like she means it, like she wants all those cameras to turn on her and this time, only this time, she actually does. “Please, do excuse us. Darling?”

It’s a considered choice, the pet name. Chosen because she knows the ways their minds work, can already see the cogs turn into credits in their eyes, already read her name in the headlines, not his. Gordon blinks up at her, perfectly forgotten, and she lets her next smile reach her eyes.

“Get in.”

---

She feels Parker’s shudder, FAB One shaking under the force of it as Gordon slips and squelches his way into the backseat. He leaves perfect dark hand prints on the cream leatherwork and drips, morosely, onto the merino wool carpets.

“Milady --”

She cuts him off with a sharp tsk, her own hands coming away hopelessly filthy as she wipes her thumbs across too-damp cheeks where oil and something else have mixed into a horrid black paste. Gordon says nothing, only leans into her touch before backing away, skittish, at Parker’s groan.

“Ignore him,” she assures him, “It’s entirely his own fault.”

Parker makes another, ruder, sound, but neither of them pay much mind. Gordon’s breathing heavily, heavier than he ought to be after such a short sprint, and she finds herself patting at his shoulders, his sides, worried eyes scanning for whatever injury must have spurred him after her.

“Penny?” He’s holding his own hands up, surrender style. “Pen -- you’re getting -- Penelope, stop it!”

“You’re hurt?” It’s a question that isn’t, not really, because Penelope is good at knowing, and she knows that twist to those lips, the shadow in those eyes, knows them as well as she knows her own name. “Let me see.”

Gordon huffs, something that might have been a laugh, once, but now sounds half a beat from a sob. “Nah.”

She rolls her eyes, and makes nimble work of his shirt buttons. He snatches at the edges, head swivelling toward the windows, and hisses a scandalised, “Hey!”

“Oh do relax,” she mutters, slapping at his wrists until he lets her pull the sodden material away from his shoulders. “This is New York, sweetheart. This is nothing.”

“So you say!” But he lets her continue, shifting his weight and kicking his own jeans off, until he’s sat in nothing but his boxers, body streaked with sweat, hair black, surrounded by discarded rags and wearing a smile that makes her heart seize.

“See?” he flings his arms out as far as he can in the confined space. “I'm fine.”

It's an invitation, an opening she doesn't take, and the silence lingers a moment too long -- long enough for him to shiver, to reach for the duffle he'd dragged in after him and pluck something soft from its depths. Long enough to wonder.

"What 'appened?"

They both move to answer, both their jaws snapping shut as they realise, and Gordon pulls a marl hoody over his head, taking his time to work his arms into the sleeves as Parker's eyes narrow in the rear view mirror.

"A misunderstanding," Penelope says breezily, far too breezily. "That's all."

One bushy eyebrow rises out of his reflection.

"Is that so, Master Gordon?"

The hoody is too long, too tight in the shoulders. The sleeves hang over his hands and the hem sits around his mid thigh. He’d clearly left in a hurry, although she should have guessed that by how quickly he caught up to them, and he refuses to meet either of their eyes as he rummages deeper into the bag muttering invectives about stupid lanky brothers.

“Gordon?”

He pauses, his hand leaving marks on the waistband of a pair of NASA sweats. "Yeah -- no. I don't know."

"You didn't 'arf run." Parker says it conversationally, an observation. Penelope only hears the pauses in Gordon’s answer.

"Yeah. Well."

"In fact seems as if we're all running, Milady."

She balks at that, offence at the very notion ingrained into her bones. "Nonsense. I don't run."

Her broken compact has come to rest beneath the duffle, and as he tosses he bag to one side to work the too-long sweats up over his knees Gordon spots it, leaning down to pick it up as he wriggles his backside into them. “Oh Lady Penelope,” he says with something of his usual humour. “Brains is gonna be cross!”

She snatches it, or tries to, but her hand slips and the cracked screen lights up, reveals immediately what she’d been doing -- what she’d been trying to do -- in the moments before Gordon had thrown himself bodily into her vehicle.

Colonel Casey,

Despite all my efforts it would appear Mr Tracy has taken against my advice and plans to move TI further in the direction we have previously discussed. I am sorry that I have been unable to convince him of the folly of such choices, and as such I am forced to resign as --

"So this isn't running?" He runs a hand across his face and lets it lie there, covering his eyes. "Jesus, Pen. What's happening to us?"

Carefully, terribly carefully, she peels his fingers away until she can twist her own between them and bring their joined hands to rest in her lap. Her business suit is ruined, but it isn’t as though she hasn’t half a dozen others. There’s only one boy -- one boy with callouses on his palms and oil under his fingernails. One boy that she absolutely cannot keep but oh -- oh --

She doesn’t look at him. Can’t. Because she knows herself, knows the streak of absolute selfish want that runs right through the very core of her, and it’s all she can do to keep her voice steady.

"Your father will no doubt be arranging further investor meetings, we can drop you at Heathrow. By the time they get back you'll --"

"Whoa, hang on -- I'm not going back!"

"Don't be ridiculous! What are you going to do instead?"

He stares at her.

"I thought -- you and me --"

He thought, but god, she wants.

And wanting makes her mean. Makes her scoff when all she really wants to do is say yes, yes of course.

“You’re going to sit in my house and watch your family save the world? Don’t be obtuse. You’ll go mad.” Then, quieter. Truer. “You’ll hate me.”

“Never.” The vehemence surprises her, though it shouldn’t, not really. She’s never seen Gordon do anything that wasn’t with his whole heart, has she? “I will never regret choosing you.”

“Over everything?”

“Anything.”

At that moment, and only for a moment, she lets herself imagine it. The two of them, and nothing, no-one else. The two of them and their own choices, their own dreams, and she knows -- she knows it will never happen. Can never happen. Gordon covers the hand holding the compact with his other, lifts it and drops a kiss to her knuckles that cracks her heart right down the centre.

"No. No, Gordon. Don't let him be right." Her voice cracks right along with it. “If he thinks I’m trying to steal you away --”

"What, like some kind of pedigree puppy? Forget it, what am I gonna do, let him get away with speaking to you like that? No chance. Never. Not happening okay, so don’t even bother."

"Your brothers --"

There's hesitation there, just as she knew there would be, but it doesn't last, doesn't work the way she'd thought it would.

"Are big enough and ugly enough to cope without me. I'm just the pool boy nowadays anyway it's not like I can do anything useful."

"That's not true."

"It's completely true, and you know it. He wants me to, what? Choose between you and brunch meetings in a penguin suit?" He grimaces. “It’s not you or the job, Penelope. It’s you and the job, or it’s him.”

“We’re on the same side, Gordon,” she says quietly. “We all only want what’s best.”

“Do we?” He shakes his head. “I dunno, Pen. I don’t know anything anymore. Dad’s --” he takes a deep breath. “He’s not the same.”

Parker scoffs at that, breaking the spell that seems to have befallen the two of them before gesturing rudely to a fellow motorist with poor lane discipline. “I’ll say. He’s spent eight years alone in outer space, young Master Gordon. If he was the same man, he’d be a blummin’ mirage.”

“I know that,” Gordon insists. “I do, I get it. But -- people will die? People are dying and we -- my dad, he’d have helped them. He’d have let us help them. I just -- I don’t even know him anymore. I don’t even know if I ever did.”

And Penelope may have lost a little faith, somewhere between Tracy Industries and the oil-slicked backseat of her car, but she hasn’t yet lost her tact.

She knows, still, just enough. Enough to recognise fear in a man’s eyes. Ambition. Dread. Lust. Courage. So she doesn’t tell him, doesn’t dare, that when she looks into his father’s eyes she sees nothing. Nothing at all. Instead she tightens her grip on his hand, on the broken compact, and says;

“Take us home, Parker.”

---

(Gordon loves his father.

He does.

His father is a dead man.)

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds #sensorysunday2020 #sensorysunday #gordon tracy #penelope creighton-ward #pen & ink #clare vs writers block #savages

35 notes · View notes

twoblueheartslocked · 4 years

Text

Seblaine Para- Present Day (NYE1)

Para: Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: New Year’s Eve- Present Day. (1)

Location: Manhattan, New York

Info: A former Dalton Academy Warbler throws a New Year’s party for any former Warblers that can make it to NYC. Sebastian and Blaine haven’t seen each other in almost four years. They haven’t spoken for over two years. Both of them are changed and damaged in different ways. Feelings pushed down by time that never went away flare up in the worst way.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of drug use, death, smoking, drinking, cursing.

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Under a cut because of length.

Blaine’s POV:

Breathe in and back out again, Blaine. Count to ten. You’ve got this. Most of these people here have your best interest in mind. You don’t need to worry. Everything is going to be alright. You can get through this night in one piece and you’ll be back home, in Brooklyn, in your cramped, shitty apartment, in your cramped, shitty bed, in your closet of a bedroom before you know it.

Blaine’s inner monologue, something his therapist thought him to do, did very little to quell the nerves and rampant anxiety that seemed to be chewing through the pit of his stomach as he made his way into the crowded New Years party. Former Warblers- from ages 18 to who knows, graced the walls of the rooftop Manhattan apartment that some Warbler, whose name kept escaping him, owned. For the third time since he tousled his loose curls with product that night he wondered what the hell he was doing here. He’d only been at Dalton for two years before he made the stupid, yet admittedly valuable, jump to McKinley High. He felt like a fraud among the alumni that had spent all four years within it’s halls. Still, he’d told Sam that he would try and with a promise from David and Nick to not abandon him, he managed to follow through.

He just hoped and prayed to a god he wasn’t sure existed that Kurt didn’t decide he wasn’t too good to call himself a Warbler and show up. His stomach gave a painful lurch at the recurring worry and the back of his neck throbbed, a phantom of clenched fingers squeezing too tight to make a point. And it was so intense that Blaine could swear Kurt was there, right behind him. He ducked his head, shame washing through him as his eyes darted around the room, wide and on full alert. Why hadn’t he worn a scarf? He’d been promised by David, who was promised by the host, that Kurt had turned down the invite, but he couldn’t shake the fingers and the ringing sound of disappointment in his ears that always sounded a lot like his ex-boyfriend’s voice.

He wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of attention he’d get as he was spotted by the first of his class of Warblers. Trent, and Wes were clapping him on the back, and pulling him into hugs. Jeff throwing an arm over his shoulders and shouting over the thump of bass- something about him being the man, the myth, the legend himself. Causing Blaine to tense up at the sudden contact, his cheeks flaring up red and hot at the words. He forced himself to smile, and give a gentle laugh to shake off the attention. Most of these people hadn’t seen him since high school. They didn’t really even know him anymore at all. Few did. These guys- they still thought of him as Blaine Warbler, the face of Dalton- with his easy smiles for everyone, and charisma and charm. If his old friends noticed his unusual quiet they didn’t address it. Blaine was glad for it. He didn’t think he could handle a look of pity for his losses or any of his plights.

He let himself be handed a clear plastic cup, someone must have remembered that he liked whisky, probably David, and he took a cautious sip. He didn’t need to get drunk and uninhibited around people he hardly knew anymore. Someone offered to take his short black pea coat from him and he politely declined, pulling the fabric around him like a shield. He felt a little like his teenage self, putting too much gel in his hair as if it would protect him and all at once he cursed himself for not giving up his coat. He made himself take another drink, hoping he could loosen up just a bit.

Twenty minutes in and he had managed to truly laugh at a few memories his old friends brought up. He even managed to talk about a few without second guessing himself. A little of his old confidence rising to the surface. He hadn’t even noticed that David had left his side until his friend gently tugged on his sleeve, his handsome, dark features looking stressed. Blaine’s body instantly froze, his eyes wide as he mouthed Kurt? to his second closest friend. But, David shook his head and sighed regretfully before he pointed to the balcony and time seemed to stop for Blaine because he wasn’t supposed to be here either.

There, on the balcony, framed by a snowy New York City skyline in a halo of cigarette smoke, looking bored even though Blaine couldn’t see his face, as he was facing the city, stood Sebastian Smythe. Clothed in a thigh length black pea coat, the grey hood of a hoodie peeking out over the collar, his long legs holding up a thin frame, too thin, actually. Did the man ever eat? As if Blaine were one to talk… And suddenly, just like that, seeing his absolute asshole of an ex didn’t seem as bad as this. Nor would it feel as bad. And for a second Blaine couldn’t breathe properly. And his heart throbbed at the sight of him and all at once he truly wished it was Kurt instead. He’d take feeling small and useless over the pain of regret and heartbreak any day.

Suddenly he was newly seventeen again and both of his parents were still alive and he was happy as his fingers laced with a uncharacteristically shy Sebastian’s. And Seb’s trademark smirk was gone and replaced with an imperfectly perfect toothy, wide smile that made his impossible green eyes crinkle in delight. And that smile was new to Seb and seemed made up just for Blaine for a little while and Blaine was giddy and free in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. They fit together in a way that Blaine had never felt and would never feel again and Blaine’s heart had ached to just stay with him… and-

A slight shake from David brought him back to present time and Blaine dragged his eyes from the balcony to look into David’s deep brown gaze. David assured him that Sebastian hadn’t seen him yet and that they could just leave, but how could Blaine do that? It had been so long… He licked his lips and took a long pull on his drink, draining the rest in one go. He handed the cup to his friend and assured him that he’d be fine. He’d regret it if he didn’t say hello. Right? He stood up, feeling the heat of whisky course through him as he made his way through the crowd and to the open balcony door. He pulled his gloves on before pushing outside, liquid courage making him feel brave for a moment. He hadn’t noticed at first, but Hunter Clarington was out here too, looking like some sort of guard dog with raised hackles protecting his friend and Blaine almost turned back because what must Hunter think of him? Would he stop him before he even had the chance to speak? He braved it and gave Hunter a nod and a twitch of his lips that was meant to be a smile.

With each step towards Sebastian his heart pounded as if it were in danger. Boom, boom, boom... When his voice came out, he hardly recognized it as his own and when Sebastian turned to face him his booming heart ached all over again because god dammit he was still so beautiful.

“Hey, Seb.” It was soft and unsure and he prayed to see his smile, but knew he’d get the same old, I don’t care about anything, smirk.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian didn’t care about this stupid Warbler party. He couldn't care less about pretending and parading around talking about majors and future plans and cramped dorm rooms and sketchy roommates. He hardly checked his Facebook let alone keep up with fucking Trent or some other random wasp from BFE Ohio. Sebastian didn’t even really know if he considered himself a Warbler anymore. Of course, Hunter insisted that he was. It was Seb, after all, who helped him climb out of his Steroid problem and who was dance captain for his short time at the school. He didn’t really have any friends from Dalton, just Hunter and Seb couldn’t decide half of the time if that was out of “bro code” or “owing him one”. He had run away to Paris after his heart was broken by every good Dalton boy’s favorite guy and he never went back. Sebastian’s heart wasn’t in Westerville, it wasn’t in Paris, either. Sebastian would know, he had spent countless nights chasing gold in the blue and brown eyes of Parisian men. His heart wasn’t even in his own body that he filled with expensive alcohol and nicotine, that he gave away to random boys under the flash of blue and pink lights, in graffitied bathroom stalls, in the back of expensive cars, in rooms where wives were gone for the weekend.

Hunter had begged, and Sebastian hated it when he begged. “C’mon,dude. Don’t make me go alone. Everyone will ask about you.” “Man up and go. Don’t be a dick.” “Bas, please go.” Sebastian kept insisting in texts and phone calls that he found the party to be a waste of time even though he and his friend both knew he was afraid of seeing a certain somebody there. “What’s the point? It’s a party for people who had their peak in high school. How pitiful.” Hunter ignored him and told him that Blaine probably wouldn’t show up. Suddenly it was the evening of the party and Sebastian was being shoved into an Uber by Hunter who was visiting from Cambridge for the weekend. He chainsmoked the entire way to the party much to the chagrin of their disgruntled driver. Sebastian kept his eyes locked on the rear view mirror to make distinct eye contact with the grumpy man driving, he’d take a long drag anytime their eyes met and the man would huff. Hunter left a big tip, Sebastian winked on the way out with a dry laugh. “That was probably the most fun I’m going to have tonight.”

He walked into the party, the apartment was nice enough and lit with white Christmas lights strung everywhere. There was generic pop music throbbing through the walls and plenty to drink, nothing too crazy expensive but nothing cheap that would cause a terrible hangover the next morning. There were more than just former Warblers, there were some girls and some random guys. Maybe Sebastian could score tonight and leave early, lock Hunter out of his apartment that he did not remember inviting him to stay in.

Seb poured himself a shot of vodka and tossed it back before Jeff made eye contact with him and tried pulling him into a hug. He held his hands out and simply deadpanned a “No way.” before he turned to pour himself another shot as the blonde prattled on about whatever Ivy League he was attending. Sebastian nodded towards the balcony, Hunter followed and Jeff got the hint. Hunter started to reprimand Sebastian about how he could at least try to be nice but all he could focus on was the light snow that began to swirl in the air and the itch in the back of his throat for another cigarette. He waved his hand dismissively and lit another one, tilted his head back and exhaled into the dark sky.

Seb flicked his cigarette into the New York night. Maybe the ashes would settle among the stars. He tried to focus on that thought rather than listen to the familiar voice he had heard slip through the crack in the balcony door. He knew the minute he turned around, he was going to be Blaine’s fool all over again. Sebastian became aware of everything at once. He could feel Hunter shift his weight, he must have seen him through the windows. He could hear the conversation get louder over the excitement of Blaine being there, could feel the air trying to escape from his lungs, the butterflies fight against his rib-cage, his heart pound in his fucking ears. He swallowed a thick gulp that he hoped the other man didn’t see and took a shaky drag as he stared at the snow gathering on the buildings around them. Blaine loves this shit, he thought to himself. Sebastian hated the cold but he would stand in a blizzard if it meant listening to Blaine wax poetic about snow globes and winter magic. He’d never say any of that out loud, he’d rather throw himself off of the balcony into the busy streets of the city.

Sebastian bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes for a moment when he heard the door creak, the sounds of the party drift on the cold winter air. He needed to suck it up and turn around. He could do this. Sebastian spun around, his green eyes on Blaine’s giant golden ones immediately as if by some magnetic force. He took a slow, deliberate drag of his cigarette, prayed that nobody could hear the rapid thud of his give away heart in his chest. Sebastian noticed David’s tall figure behind him, felt Hunter’s nerves and heard him mutter “fuck…” under his breath. He flicked his cigarette, “Relax, David. I won’t hurt him.” Sebastian smirked, couldn’t look away from Blaine. He looked...well obviously he looked wonderful, he always did. Snowflakes were starting to collect in his black curls and his cheeks were red from the bitter winter air.

Sebastian hoped his voice sounded even and cool, hoped his chill ‘I don’t give a fuck’ demeanor that he worked way too hard on was evident, even though he felt like he was sixteen and stuck in the midst of a raging crush all over again.

“Hey Killer. Long time no see.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s brain buzzed at the use of his old nickname. The one that had gotten him in trouble with Kurt, the first time they were together, every single time it was used by Sebastian. Blaine had always secretly liked it, liked that it was his and no one else called him that. He’d never tell Seb, even as they had gotten closer, he always rolled his eyes and shook his head as if it miffed him when in reality it sent the butterflies fluttering around his belly. It was almost as nice as when Seb would eventually whisper B... into his ear when he’d let Blaine kiss his neck… Best not go there, Anderson. That was years ago. So, he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Not that same old tune again.” He tried to make it sound playful, but really it just made him ache more. He turned and looked over his shoulder at David, giving him a small smile. “It’s okay- I’m okay.” He wondered if David knew he was lying. He nodded as if that would forced the point. David sighed and stepped back into the party, but Blaine could still see the outline of his body close to the door. He was thankful.

There was a snowflake clinging to Seb’s cheek like a lifeline, no wait, it was ash from the careless flick of Seb’s cigarette and Blaine wanted nothing more than to take his glove off, reach out and swipe it away with his thumb. Once upon a time Blaine had been on to him about this bad habit, and how dangerous it was, but couldn’t deny it’s attractiveness… This was absolute insanity. Blaine had only had Sebastian for a short time, but that was all it took to completely ruin him. Perhaps he ruined himself in the process, it was his fault they cracked in the first place. Right? His heart gave a painful thump as he let himself think back to their months spent getting to know each other, the real person behind their facades. He remembered his first taste of Seb’s mouth against his and how he thought, in that moment, that he’d be happy just kissing him for the rest of his life, but then their one perfect, intimate night together proved him wrong. He’d just wanted to touch him forever.

And for a moment, lost in his thoughts, Blaine almost smiled at the memories. That was until he remembered what came after, the news that ripped his happiness apart and left him gutted, the loss that rendered Blaine useless to himself and everyone else. The loss was his downfall in more ways than one and the reason Blaine allowed himself to go back to Kurt and the reason he was skittish now, the reason he hadn’t kissed anyone in nine months, the reason he was stuck in this shell of himself in the first place. Phantom fingers squeezed the back of his neck again and he swallowed hard, hoping it wasn’t noticed. Breathe in, breathe out. Count to ten. You’ve got this, Blaine. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping they’d think he was shaking from the cold.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself out of his memories, memories that did nothing but hurt him like they no doubt hurt Sebastian, even though the other man seemed to be doing fine on the outside, Blaine remembered the stricken, pained look and the welling of tears in too bright green eyes. Blaine knew you couldn’t fake that. He took another deep breath, and made himself smile up at the taller man, it was small and meek, but it was a smile nonetheless. He couldn’t bring himself to look Sebastian in the eye, so he instead focused on the little fleck of ash on his cold flushed cheek and tried not to think about how Sebastian was more breathtaking than the snowy city skyline he adored so much.

“I’m surprised you came, it’s not really your scene, is it?’ He forced a laugh, noting how Hunter was flicking looks between the two of them and over his shoulder where David was still no doubt lurking. “I didn’t even know you were in New York.” A lie- and it just rolled off of his tongue as if to prove something. But of course Blaine knew Seb was here, had been for maybe two years. “Are you going to school here, or just visiting?” The small talk would be the death of him. He’d give anything to just be in his shitty, yet cozy apartment where he wasn’t on display and where he could at least try to pretend he wasn’t miserable with a Netflix and donuts distraction. Midnight felt years away.

Sebastian’s POV:

“Well, you’ve always had an effect on me, B. You have me feeling a little nostalgic.” Sebastian took another long drag and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth, one arm folded across his chest to clutch at his arm, cigarette at his side. He heard Hunter scoff and could see the shake of his head as if to say ‘you never give anything a rest, do you?’ How could he give anything a rest when his biggest regret was standing in front of him with nervous tension in the crease of his forehead?

Sebastian finished his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, stomped the flame out with the tip of his boot. It would be a little gift for the random Warbler who owned the apartment. He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded as Blaine spoke. Sebastian noticed that he wasn’t making eye contact, which was strange for him. Blaine was charismatic and talkative and charming, he could sell paper to a tree. The warm light that normally seemed to follow the other man everywhere he went seemed dimmed, his smile didn’t reach those perfect eyes. Sebastian knew hurt, he knew quiet pain and it was written all over Blaine.

Hunter mumbled that he was going to grab them some drinks and left the balcony to just the two of them. Seb could hear New Years party goers yelling in the streets, could what laughter and dull music and car horns. It would be midnight soon and he wished he was lost in a crowded bar right about now rather than faking small talk with somebody he used to adore. Sebastian hated small talk and he hated faking how he really felt and here he was, failing at both.

“Okay, small talk. Here we go. Yeah, it’s not my scene. Hunter begged me to come. I’ve lived here for a couple years. I go to Columbia. How about you, Blaine? Living your wildest dreams? Married yet? Starring on Broadway? Breaking hearts? What’s new?” He cleared his throat and forced a smirk. He knew he sounded abrasive. Sebastian shoved his hands in his coat pockets and rocked back on his heels, ducking his head to try and get the other man to look at him, to really look at him. “See something you like?” He couldn’t wait for Hunter to come back with a drink to distract his hands and quiet his mind for a brief moment.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine let out a mirthless laugh, it sounded small and timid in his ears and he cursed himself for sounding that way. He opened his mouth to reply, to say something that could match Sebastian, to keep up with him the way he used to be able to, but nothing came out. He just nodded, his shoulder coming up in a shrug as if he’d forgotten how to use his mouth. This was hell for him. This tension, this emotion that was threatening to take hold of him. Why the hell had he come out here? To say hi? What kind of bullshit was that? Did he think that it would prove something to himself? That he could do it without falling apart? There was a reason he hadn’t spoken to Sebastian in over two years. There was a reason Sebastian’s stance was defensive right now. There was a reason Blaine was internally falling apart all over again, after he’d done such a bang up job putting himself back together. He should have just left. It would have been better for him than this...whatever this was.

He watched as Hunter left the balcony, leaving him and Sebastian, miraculously, all alone. Seriously, why wasn’t this spot running wild with party goers? Midnight wasn’t even twenty minutes away and the people of New York would usually kill for this spot. Up high in the grey black skyline of NYC, he could even hear the faint sounds of Taylor Swift singing in Times Square in the silence that lay between him and Sebastian. Perfect melancholy soundtrack for this kind of night he guessed. He opened his mouth to try again, to maybe fill the silence but Sebastian beat him to it seeming annoyed and irritated that Blaine had asked anything at all. The use of his name caused him to tense for a split second and wonder what he’d said to warrant that when he remembered this was Sebastian. Sebastian’s default was usually annoyance. Or seduction.

He tried to make himself relax, and found that his first thought was to wonder how insensitive Sebastian could be to joke about Broadway and marriage, but he had to remind himself that Sebastian had only been around for the first part of his battle. He only knew half of what had happened to him. He didn’t know that he’d lost the music inside of him or that he felt every single day like an impostor in his own life and that love apparently was not for him. He took another deep breath and tried not to notice how Sebastian’s head dipped down for him, ducking so that he could see him. Or so that he could make Blaine see. It was familiar and a call back to younger years and it made Blaine’s heart flip. Yeah, Seb, I do. I see you. But, he didn’t say that because that wasn’t fair. Instead he stumbled over his words.

“I- N-no, I’m a Sophomore at NYU. I, um, I took a year off after high school because, um, well, you know.” He shrugged. Yeah, blame it on the dead parents. Sure, it was partially true, but Kurt and his “helpful” suggestion to take a break and stay with him for peace of mind was the real reason and it had done nothing but damage his mind. He took another deep breath and forced himself to finally look up at Seb. To look at his face properly, his eyes meeting an intense and familiar green that were hiding their emotions very carefully. Same as always. Blaine had spent months, once upon a time, gently tugging those walls down and with regret he remembered how they snapped harshly back into place within seconds, blocking him out completely.

His anxiety was on the rise again with those kinds of thoughts and he visibly swallowed and took another deep breath. His mantra repeating in his head over and over. Breathe in, breathe out. Count to ten. You’ve got this, Blaine. Maybe it didn’t really work, maybe he was kidding himself but it was currently keeping him from his urge to cry. To obsess over Sebastian’s flippant and annoyed words because maybe Blaine had broken Seb’s heart, but he’d also broken his own in the process. The fucking thing was still in pieces that never seemed to want to fit back the way they were supposed to. But his therapist had helped him see that while his actions when he was younger were warranted, given the circumstances, he maybe could have done it in a better way. Explained himself better to Sebastian. Then maybe the two of them would be someplace else right now and Blaine would have never gone back to Kurt. He also should have stayed in therapy in high school and not stopped going for years when Kurt told him he didn’t need it. His head might be someplace else right now as well.

He tried at sarcasm. “If you consider a cramped Brooklyn flat with a closet for a bedroom and working two and half jobs on top of classes The Dream then sure, yeah, I’m living it.” The sarcasm fell flat and he only ended up sounding self deprecating which made him want to kick himself because he didn’t want Seb’s pity. He ignored the marriage question altogether and instead chose to focus on what was actually new in his life. What could he even say? Hey Seb, I’m super fucked up, I’ve been in heavy therapy that’s breaking my bank for six months now. I take a shit load of meds that make me want to sleep for days sometimes, or keep me awake for days at other times. And sometimes they make it so I can’t eat, not even my sweets, you remember how I liked those, right? Yeah, and sometimes they make it so I can’t cry and then some days I can’t stop crying. Oh yeah, after my parents died and I lost you I went back to Kurt and he ended up being a bully this time around, like the worst kind. Can you believe I allowed myself to get abused? He struggled even thinking that word. Fuck.

No. No, he couldn’t say any of that. But, he needed to say something. Something that was good and positive about himself. Just fucking make something up, Blaine. “Ah, well, as I said, I’ve moved to Brooklyn. Like seven or so months ago. It’s cramped, and weird living alone after, um, never living alone before but it’s mine and I get a lot of time with my music now.” Never mind that he wasn’t writing or even playing at all. Only when it came to his school work and even then it was mostly uninspired.

“What about you? Is New York treating you as good as Paris does?” Suddenly he wanted to just tell Sebastian that he missed him. That he thought about him all the damn time and that over the course of the last four years he’d picked up his phone to call him and tell him and to beg him to come back to him over a dozen times. The one time he actually did it didn’t really count because he had been intoxicated and it was messy. Instead he lamely asked, “How’s your mom?” because he’d always liked Sabine and it was the furthest thing away from I miss you as possible.

He turned and looked back into the sliding glass of the apartment door, wanting to break the eye contact in some way, feeling trapped in the emerald hue. He didn’t want to feel trapped. It made him anxious. He could make out the shape of Hunter and David bent together conversationally as they slowly made their way back towards them. Both of them carried drinks in each hand. God, he wished they’d hurry. He could feel himself crumbling. The facade of happiness he’d painted on for his old friends falling apart the longer he stood out here talking like nothing had happened. He always did this with Sebastian. Always gave way too much of himself away to him. He let him see everything. And maybe it was because with Seb, he was allowed to be too much. Or he used to be allowed anyway. Now he had nothing. Just memories that ate him up all the time. Making Blaine feel the other shitty things in his life even more intensely.

He wrapped his arms around himself to try and hold himself together. Midnight was close. It would arrive and then leave and Seb would, too. Probably putting the thought of Blaine back into whatever locked compartment he kept him in. And Blaine would go home and feel the chance meeting way too much and all at once and fuck he needed more to drink. His head was already throbbing right along with his heart at the thought of having to sit alone and feel this little conversation.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian could see a million little emotions flit across Blaine’s face. Sebastian had kept track for a little while on social media but, it had hurt him to see that he had gotten back with Kurt. He had taken a step back after that. He stopped checking his Facebook obsessively, stopped staring at his Instagram, didn’t send texts or snaps. Blaine had drunkenly called him one glorious, hopeful night but it was all taken away from him the next morning. Sebastian noticed that Blaine mentioned moving and living alone. He had heard that the two of them had split and kept that information folded up like a secret love note in the back of his head. Sebastian couldn’t keep his stomach from flipping in excitement to basically hear it confirmed out loud. He reprimanded the butterflies battering his ribs, had to silently remind them that simply hearing words didn’t really mean anything and they were all just going to be let down again. “Isn’t it strange? We’ve both been running around the city for about the same amount of time and haven’t ran into each other? I suppose it’s because you’d never find me in Brooklyn.” Sebastian threw in a trademark eye roll for good measure, trying his best to keep his voice blase. His fingers itched to light a cigarette, his nerves were on fire from the specific spike of adrenaline that only a past heartbreak can cause.

He ran a hand through his hair to shake away the snowflakes that had gathered there and shivered, he wasn’t sure if it was from the nerves or from the weather. “New York treats me just fine. There are so many beautiful men, so many parties. I stay busy.”

Sebastian’s face fell slightly when the other man asked about his mother. Part of him felt angry, like how dare he? Maybe if he cared so much he could have reached out a few times. The other part of him understood because Blaine grew close with Sabine in the short time they were involved. Seb knew that if she were there, she’d pull the other man into a lavender scented hug and tell him in her accent that she had missed seeing him around. “She’s good.” He shrugged his shoulders. Sebastian wasn’t about to get into any of the messy details of how their relationship had become fucked up since Blaine was in his kitchen baking Christmas cookies with her. He loved his mother, she was his closest confidant. But he had messed up so many times in the past few years that she had developed little worry lines in her beautiful forehead, sounded sad on the phone with him more often than not, cried for him and begged him to slow down.

Sebastian heard the door slide open, saw Hunter and David appear with drinks behind Blaine. “Fucking finally.” He held out his hand for his drink. “Took you long enough. We could use the pick me up, couldn’t we, B?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried to smile, but it came out more as a wince.”Yeah, I guess you’re right.” In reality Blaine knew it was relatively easy to avoid someone when you knew they lived around you. Blaine would often find himself checking in on Hunter’s Instagram or Facebook or Twitter to see if he was in town. Hunter was much more active on socials and would often post some of the places he and Sebastian would frequent. Blaine knew places to avoid in Manhattan for the most part. Plus, it wasn’t like Blaine had spent his first years here going out and about by himself all the time. No, that was difficult when where you went and what you did was mostly dictated by someone else. When you mostly only did things that they wanted to do.

“Hey, Brooklyn isn’t so bad. I’ve been working at a local coffee shop and a bar there for the last few months and it’s been pretty therapeutic. And sure, the apartment is shitty, but it beats the overpriced ritzy places in Manhattan.” He rolled his eyes, trying to come across as playful. His apartment in Manhattan had actually been incredible. Just not the people he had to share it with. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive Rachel for denying what was happening right in front of her. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thought before he was engulfed in more anxiety about it. “Besides, I lived in Manhattan for the first three years I lived here, so there was always the chance we could have run into each other then. Guess fate wasn’t having it.”

Beautiful men and parties. Of course Blaine knew Sebastian did that sort of thing. He did that sort of thing when he was fifteen. But, he could feel that this was meant to sting him a little and if not, it stung anyway. He didn’t like thinking about Sebastian with random men every weekend, but he wasn’t stupid. Not about this anyway. And Sebastian had never been shy about his sex life. It didn't matter if he already knew though, he could feel his face fall at the confirmation, could feel the sudden stricken look and did his best to cover it up. He bit his lip and forced himself to nod. “It’s good that you’re keeping busy. I’m happy the city has been good to you.” the words tasted rotten on his tongue and where the hell were Hunter and David?

Blaine noted the way Sebastian’s face fell at the mention of Sabine and knew that he’d messed up by asking. Blaine had been incredibly fond of her, he found her glamorous and lovely and admired the way she loved Sebastian so much. But Seb’s short answer and stiff shrug made Blaine wonder if maybe she hated him now, too. Hated him for hurting her son even though Blaine hadn’t wanted to. He wouldn’t blame her. He still hated himself for it. “I’m glad to hear that.” The words felt hollow even though they were true.

David waited until Blaine could see him before he nudged him and handed him his drink. The cup was full and Blaine had to fight the urge to down it in one go.He shouldn’t be drinking anything at all. It would work against his medicine and probably make him sick but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he took a gulp like the whisky was water. Yeah, Seb had been right, the pick me up was needed. He smiled and thanked David for the drink, his friend asking if he was cool before he moved to lean against the railing on the balcony with Hunter. The two of them were turned toward each other and seemed to be picking up their earlier conversation which left him alone with Sebastian again.

He turned towards his old friend- friend? Lover? God, what even was Sebastian to him? Neither word seemed good enough. He lifted his cup for another drink, his eyes catching on Seb’s cheek again. The cigarette ash was still there. Still kissing Seb’s cheekbone and Blaine opened his mouth to tell him about it when the sounds of thousands of people started counting from the streets below joined by the crowd in the apartment. He froze, the voices blending like a choir in perfect harmony.

They had gotten to from eight to five and Blaine shot Hunter and David a look because why didn’t they tell them what time it was? Blaine had been hoping to excuse himself before midnight, was hoping to have himself hidden away in the bathroom so he didn’t have to hug a bunch of strangers or have someone kiss his cheek and he didn’t have to pretend he was excited for the new year. But, here he was, standing not even three feet from Sebastian Smythe and he didn’t know what to do. 4-3-2… and suddenly there were fireworks bursting overhead, it was a new year and there was confetti billowing in the winter night to the melancholy tune of Auld Lang Syne as it rang out. Snowflakes danced in the air while the people below kissed and laughed like they'd never feel sorrow again. He wished he could relate.

Sebastian's POV:

Sebastian’s stomach fell, fell through the apartment building floors, the butterflies gone. Guess fate wasn’t having it. His mouth stiffened and he took a sharp breath. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick of his when he got frustrated. Sebastian fought against his own body, the acidic sick feeling in his stomach, the jittery adrenaline running through his veins, the trapped 16 year old in his brain yelling and screaming and begging Blaine to just fucking take him back. Just tell me you miss me, please. I miss you. I feel like you hate me and that makes me hate myself. “It was fate, sure.” Sebastian’s voice was dry and he fought the urge to laugh. You know that maniacal laughter when everything is just too much and your lungs feel like they might explode and your skin is burning and all you want to do is scream and laugh and tell everybody to just fuck off? “I guess fate has never favored me.”

He was so over this small talk. He was disgusted by the reactions happening under his skin that nobody but him could feel. Blaine was Sebastian’s first and only heartbreak. He was disgusted by how sprung he still was, had lied to himself and told himself that he was over it. Sebastian had never been over it and that realization was so embarrassing that he could hardly stand himself and he wanted to tear himself out of his skin. Most of the words Blaine was saying were just floating over his head at this point, he was so disappointed with the direction of this meeting. Sometimes when Sebastian got drunk or sad or high enough he would let himself imagine reuniting with Blaine. That Blaine would tell him he missed him and Sebastian would say that he loved him and they’d patch each other’s wounds and kiss in pools and hold hands in parks and share french fries and Blaine would tackle him in his mother’s backyard and kiss him all over his face, his neck and they’d laugh until their stomachs hurt again.

Sebastian took a much needed swig of his vodka cranberry that Hunter had made a little too weak and rolled his eyes to himself. Of course Hunter wouldn’t make him a strong drink. He was probably too worried about him. It didn’t matter, Sebastian already planned on ditching the party for a bar anyway. Suddenly, the world seemed to explode into noise. Sebastian could hear the countdown echoing all around them. Hunter and David distracted and cheering, clapping each other on the back. The people inside of the apartment wrapped in the golden glow of Christmas lights left up from the days before, some of them were kissing strangers or old lovers, shaking hands and hugging and laughing. A few of the party goers exploded onto the balcony in a burst of noisemakers and music but Sebastian felt like he was alone, just staring at Blaine as he awkwardly clasped his plastic cup. He felt like he was stuck in the worst snow globe ever produced. Such a sad scene; two damaged boys too afraid to fix anything surrounded by kissing strangers and dirty snow and cheering partiers. They say that the people you’re with at midnight on New Year’s eve were who you would spend your year with. The thought made Sebastian feel so alone because he didn’t really feel like Blaine was really there.

In the back of his head, where he kept his most guarded secrets, Sebastian knew he would give anything to be wrapped in the warmth of Blaine, the glow of cheap lights on their skin, kissing the taste of New Year’s champagne away.

The words were out of his lips before he could stop them. Sebastian knew his eyes looked pained, and that his flirty voice didn’t match his sad but eager body language.

“You don’t wanna kiss me, B?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s body tensed even more at Sebastian’s words. He knew Sebastian didn’t believe in fate or any of that sort of thing, but the way he said seemed so sad. No Seb, I’m the one that fate doesn’t favor. I’m the fuck up and the reason we’re in this awkward, forced conversation. I’m the reason you’re making yourself stand out here in the cold that you hate so much. You’ve never liked it, only tolerated it for me. Blaine used to love the wintertime, it was magical and it made him feel so full of wonder but he’d lost so much during the winter that the magic had turned harsh and had made him bitter towards the season. No, it wasn’t Seb’s fault or fate’s. It was all his. Why were they doing this? Sebastian hated small talk. He’d always hated the way people scrambled for answers to questions he didn’t give a shit about.

It’s my fault you’re out here, making yourself do things you don’t like doing in the first place. I’m always making you do that. Pushing you out of your comfort zone... Always making you feel and hurt and god, you should hate me. The only thing you ever did wrong was let someone like me see how good you are. You wasted it on me. The words were there, threatening to push past his teeth. He could remember the hurt, no the heart wrenching look on Sebastian’s face when he’d broke it off with him. It didn’t matter why he did it. But he would face a thousand insults and bruises every single day again over seeing that face ever again. He ignored the little voice that sounded a lot like Sam, telling him that he had been forced to face that anyway. A voice sounding like his own told him he must've deserved it.

You don’t wanna kiss me, B?”

Hunter and David were suddenly paying very close attention to the two of them now. And the words sent a spike through his heart and at first he thought he might have been being cruel. Taunting him, and turning what they had into some mockery, but the tone didn’t match his face. Seb’s eyes were full of a pain that Blaine knew well, and his face was eager and open and Blaine could, for just a moment, read him like a book. God, how much are you hurting, Seb? And for a second Blaine ached to just pull him into his arms and hold him close. To reassure him that their time together was so much more than just a fling. That he had loved him wholly and completely and still did. He wanted to kiss his face and tell him that he was so fucking sorry for how it ended and that he deserved the world. He wanted to tell him that even when he had gotten trapped by Kurt and manipulated into a three year relationship of insecurities, and head games that he was unable to dig himself out of, he'd thought about Sebastian. Seb wouldn’t have done those things to Blaine.

What I wouldn’t give to turn back our timeline and keep you with me. Make you feel all the love and attention I have for you. I’d make you see that you deserved all of it and none of the bullshit I did. I’d let you help me though what I lost and I wouldn’t have pushed you away, no matter how much it hurt to bring you down with me.

Still the words were locked in his brain, he couldn’t say them. He didn’t deserve that peace of mind. Telling him how much he missed the summer nights and autumn weekends and winter touches wouldn’t do shit. The damage to them and then to Blaine had already been done. Blaine had started it and then Kurt had seen to the rest. He’d messed Blaine’s mind up completely and manipulated him into thinking he wasn’t good enough for anyone. Therapy only went so far and even Blaine knew that if he wasn’t so stupid he would have left Kurt before it got as bad as it did. And then maybe he’d have found a way back to Sebastian and begged him to give him another chance. But Blaine had been stupid and and wanting to tell Sebastian all of this stuff was unfair to the other man because even if Seb gave him a chance Blaine was so fucked up he wasn’t sure he knew how to do any of it anymore. Nor did he deserve the chance. His hands had gone clammy in his gloves thinking about his relationship with Kurt and he wanted to scream. The cheering and the music and the blood rushing in his ears was all too much.

Maybe Blaine was wrong and he was misreading everything. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t hurting and was only being polite to him because he felt sorry for him. Maybe someone had told him about the last few years of his pathetic life and Seb was taking pity on him. Maybe he and Hunter would go home later and laugh at him. He swallowed hard, biting into his lip hard enough to feel the pain, his breathing picking up as he really looked at Sebastian. No, Blaine wasn’t wrong. Sebastian was hurting, the pain was truly written all over his face. In the way he stood, in the way he tried too hard to sound casual. He didn’t need to try, casual was as easy for Sebastian Smythe as breathing. This was different. The man in front of him was feeling some of the same things as him and it made Blaine feel even worse about himself.

He wanted to run, he wanted to scream but most of all he wanted to walk over and kiss Sebastian. The words had left him with an even bigger ache than he had when he’d first spotted him that night and if he didn’t leave soon he’d embarrass himself not only in front of Sebastian but in front of the rest of his old friends. Some legend, huh? He took a deep breath and lifted his cup to his lips and finished his drink, trying to figure out how he could leave. But, as he was setting the empty cup on the ground and his feet were instantaneously carrying him towards the taller man and his fingers were shedding his gloves. And while Blaine knew he couldn’t kiss him, he wasn’t brave enough nor was it fair to Sebastian, he knew that he needed to at least touch him. Show him that he missed him and that he was happy- or as happy as he could feel right now, to see him.

He tucked his gloves into his coat pocket and stepped up to his person. His eyes were level with Seb’s shoulders and he couldn’t bring himself to look up for a moment. Finally, after what felt like hours but had probably only been seconds, Blaine lifted his eyes to meet Sebastian’s. The other man seemed frozen in time. Blaine’s left hand, shaky and freezing, came up to rest against the side of his face, his thumb softly brushing the little flecks of ash that had made a home on Seb’s cheek away. How easy this felt to him. Standing here with Sebastian’s snow cold face in his hands. It felt so good and Blaine’s lips twitched into an almost smile… And what was he doing? All at once Blaine was overwhelmed. His breath hitched and his eyes were suddenly blurred either from the cold or tears either way it made him drop his hand and shake his head.

“I- I- fuck, um, you just h-had something…” He lifted his hands to show that Seb had something on his face but it seemed silly now and he shook his head, frustrated that he couldn’t get the words out. “I’m sorry. I should go. I have to work in the morning.” A lie. He ducked his head, feeling his anxiety overtake him and why he hadn't brought anything to calm himself down? He looked up, but not into Seb’s eyes, his arms wrapping around himself as he felt like a deer in the headlights. He nodded a goodbye to Hunter and shook his head at David. “I’m good David, I can get an Uber. Stay and have fun, okay?” He turned, head dipped and looked up at Seb through his lashes so that the other man couldn’t really see his face properly. “It was good to see you, Seb, I really hope you have a good night.” He swallowed hard and nodded, as if that would prove he meant it. “Happy New Year.”

Blaine turned on his heel and before David or anyone else could stop him he made his way into the crowded party. He kept his head ducked, bee lining it toward the front door, hoping to god that no one noticed him. He managed to avoid everyone’s hands but not their eyes as his name was called out over the music a few times by random voices, he nodded politely but didn’t stop. He hoped they’d understand and even if they didn’t it didn’t matter. It’d be months before they reached out to him again. The elevator was muggy as he rode down, which made the cold air that hit his heated face seem even more cold when he stepped out of the building. There was already a text from David asking if he was okay, and Nick had sent a series of question marks. Blaine ignored them, his eyes blurry as he pulled up the Uber app and tipsily tried to type the address of the party into his phone.

Breathe in and back out again, Blaine. Count to ten. You’ve got this.

It wouldn’t be until he was home an hour later, tucked into his creaky bed and numb with a dose of sleepiness via an Ambien bottle and the whisky from the party that he’d allow himself to really feel the events of the night as the emotion and pills pulled him into sleep. His eyes would be red and his head would be pounding in the morning.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian knew it was cliche but to him it suddenly felt like the world had stopped. Blaine was moving towards him, he was taking his gloves off, reaching for him. The snow fell slowly, slowly, slowly and his music-worn hand was on his cheek. He knew those hands so well once upon a time, knew the calluses at his fingertips, had felt them drag across his belly underneath his tee shirt, felt them on his lips. He blinked and stood silently as Blaine’s thumb wiped at a spot on his cold cheek. Sebastian became aware of Hunter and David watching, he could feel the hush that fell over their conversation. He wondered if Hunter regretted begging him to come. Hunter had stood by on the sidelines when the two of them were involved, and had tried to pick up the pieces at their abrupt end. Hunter got to, once again, witness Sebastian’s downfall.

Just as fast as Blaine’s rough hand cradled his cheek, it dropped back to his side and Sebastian felt colder than he had all evening. “Thanks for that.” He muttered the words mostly to himself as he rubbed his own hand over the spot. “Same to you.” Sebastian watched as Blaine hurried through the party. He noticed that he didn’t stop to say goodbye to anybody. Blaine had changed a lot in the past few years, that was for sure. Sebastian never thought he’d witness Blaine shy away from attention or the chance to work a room with his bright smile and easy going charm.

Sebastian decided that he had had enough of the party and the reunions and took off as Hunter tried to walk over. His friend was talking but Sebastian had ignored him with a hand up in the air. Sebastian weaved through the bodies inside of the apartment and ignored everybody that called out to him, though it was only a few people since most knew better. He could feel Hunter following but didn’t turn around, instead he chose to basically throw himself down the stairs and run into a cab that was waiting for somebody else. Sebastian was faster than Hunter, he could lose him. He shoved a fifty towards the driver and gave him the address of a random club he knew he could score boys and free drinks and drugs at, “and hurry.”

He lit a cigarette outside of the club and exhaled into the bitter air. He shoved his free hand in his pocket and let the nicotine wash over his nerves. Sebastian could hear the bass from the club reverberate through the air around him. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to scream or send any shitty messages. He was going to finish this cigarette, get some guy to buy him a few rounds, maybe do a few lines in the bathroom, dance until his thighs burned in a wash of colorful lights, and end up in the bed of a guy with dark hair but not the right eyes.

/fin.

#seblaine #seblaine canon divergence #seblaine para #para: memories #seblaine rp #para

8 notes · View notes

clumsyclifford · 4 years

Note

“i just lost the Celebrity X Lookalike Contest (I AM Celebrity X) and threw a tantrum about it, you’re the security guard who escorted me out and doesn’t believe me” au

thank u anon for this gift it’s precisely what i needed. literally just whacked this out instead of doign my lab final please forgive me if it sucks at least i finished something for once lmaoo (also me?? being brief?? nah)

Calum’s done security for plenty of these events, but he’s never seen a blowup quite like this one.

“Sir,” the host (Jeff) says, “please step off the stage.”

“This is bullshit,” the Michael Clifford lookalike says. He’s wearing a five around his neck and he looks positively enraged about it. “You’re telling me I lost a lookalike contest for my own face? Do you even know who this contest is for? I’m Michael Clifford! I can’t lose a lookalike contest against myself!”

Calum squints. He supposes Michael #5 looks roughly like the real Michael Clifford — not that Calum, like, knows what he looks like, not that he follows him on Instagram or likes all of his Tweets or anything like that, because Calum is a normal 24-year-old man — but some of the other Michaels onstage have him beat. And anyway, Calum’s pretty sure Michael isn’t even in Sydney today. His show isn’t until tomorrow. (Not that Calum would know. He’s not going.)

(Not on his measly security guard paycheck, anyway.)

“Sir, we appreciate your participation in the contest, but if you don’t calm down we’ll be forced to remove you from the premises,” Jeff says, belatedly realizing he’s speaking into the microphone. Michael #5 laughs wildly.

“This is insane! I literally have my driver’s license right here, I can prove it. I’m actual Michael Clifford and you’re going to let this —” he grabs the number plate of the winning Michael (Michael #12) — “this guy win “Best Michael Clifford lookalike”? This contest is not, by the way, Michael Clifford-approved!”

“Security,” Jeff calls, and that’s Calum’s cue. He heads for the stage as Michael #5 looks around and seems to realize he’s not going to win this battle. Calum watches that thought pass over him and sees him decide not to care.

“Brilliant,” Michael #5 says, “call security on me, the real Michael Clifford. Look, it’s not a fame thing, honestly, it’s just a pride thing. You can’t say you know what I look like and then let me lose in a lookalike contest for myself.”

This guy’s really lost it, Calum thinks. He really, properly thinks he’s Michael Clifford. But the brown in his roots has grown too long. It can’t be him.

“Sir,” Calum says, hoping he won’t have to use force. Michael #5 may not be the real Michael Clifford, but he’s just as pretty, and it would be a shame to hurt him. Calum’s not above it, but he’s largely opposed. “Please step off the stage and come with me. I won’t ask again.”

Michael #5 groans. He sounds frustrated. Calum thinks he’s a little bit crazy. “This is insane,” he says again, but at least he gets off the stage. “Congratulations, Michael #12. Are you Michael Clifford?” Michael #12 shakes his head. “Thought not,” Michael #5 mutters as Calum puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him to the exit. He’s almost embarrassed for Michael #5. Calum’s more of a fade-into-the-background kind of guy. He’d never have a meltdown like that, and certainly never over such a delusion.

Michael #5 turns to Calum as they leave the building. “You don’t have to hold on to me, I’m not going to make a break for it,” he says bluntly. Calum lets go. “I am Michael Clifford, you know. Those guys don’t believe me, for some fucking reason, but why would I lie?”

“If you were Michael Clifford,” Calum says, disbelieving, “why would you enter a Michael Clifford lookalike contest?”

Michael #5 throws his hands up and laughs incredulously. “For fun! To see what would happen! Look, some of those people really did look like me. But I swear up and down, I am Michael Clifford.”

Calum shakes his head. The inside silence had felt like everyone was holding their breath (which they all had been), but the quiet outside is peaceful, and the cool air of the night feels like a refreshing reboot on Calum’s brain. He’s been sitting in there, watching contest after contest, for what feels like forever. He needs water. Or a smoke.

“To be fair, you do look like him,” he says kindly. This seems to further upset Michael #5. “If I were in charge, you’d have won.” Michael groans and rubs his face, aggrieved. “Look, mate, I’m really not trying to step on your parade or — I mean rain on your parade, or whatever. If it’s, if it makes you feel better to, like, embody Michael Clifford, I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

Michael #5 looks like he’s at war with himself, stuck somewhere between entertained and dismayed. “Jesus Christ, I’m losing it. What’s your name?”

“Calum,” Calum says, because whatever. Calum’s a common enough name that if Michael #5 turns out to be a maniac, he should still be safe. And he feels a little badly for this guy, to be honest.

“Calum,” Michael #5 says, “I swear on my life that I am really Michael Clifford. I can call Ashton — my manager, Ashton Irwin — right now and have him confirm it. I can literally call James Corden and have him tell you, if that’ll make you believe me.” He sounds desperate. A very, very small part of Calum thinks, what if it is him?

It’s not, the majority of Calum’s brain insists. It can’t be.

Yeah, but you’ll be really humiliated if it turns out to be him.

“Michael Clifford’s not due in Sydney until tomorrow,” Calum says, ignoring the voices. He’s almost embarrassed to know that, but it’s not like Michael #5 doesn’t know that. Anyone who’s willing to go to such lengths to pretend to be rockstar Michael Clifford is clearly acquainted with his schedule.

Michael smirks. “Oh, so you know my schedule to the minute, then? Coming to the show?”

If this were the real Michael Clifford, Calum wouldn’t engage. But it’s just some random person who’s had a bit too much to drink, maybe, or a few too many fantasies, so whatever. It’s better than sitting in there watching the next lookalike competition (Selena Gomez), even if that is technically his job.

“No, I wish,” he says. “Like I can afford concert tickets on my salary. Are you going?”

Michael #5 sighs heavily. “I’m performing, mate. It’s my show.”

“You’re awfully committed to the role,” Calum remarks. “I have to say, I admire your persistence. What’s your name?”

“My name is Michael Gordon Clifford, and I’m embarrassed for you,” Michael #5 tells him, which is funny, because Calum had been thinking the same thing about him. “God, this is literally the strangest day of my life. I thought it would just be a laugh, enter, see what happens. What can I do to prove it to you that I’m the real Michael? Can I show you my license? Will that do it?”

Calum thinks. He’s seen his fair share of fake IDs, but some people are willing to go to great lengths to pretend to be someone they’re not. And Michael #5 had been willing to use it as evidence against the host, so it’s probably a prop.

Michael #5 has already taken out his license, though, and is holding it in Calum’s face. “Please, please believe me,” he begs. “I’m starting to lose my sense of self, honestly.”

“What does it matter if I believe you?” Calum asks, looking bemusedly at the driver’s license in Michael #5’s hands. “I’m just security.”

“Well, for one, you’ve been nicer to me than anyone else here,” Michael #5 says. “And for another, I’ve never been flat-out told that I’m not the person I am. So that’s weird. Admittedly, I’m not used to anonymity on this level, and it probably won’t last very long. But moreover, I was going to invite you to my show. You know. The actual show that I actually have tomorrow, at Sydney Opera House, where I’ll be performing my own music.”

Calum takes the license and looks closely at it. He’s a very good security guard, he likes to believe. And he can tell when an ID is fake. He can.

This one is absolutely real. Michael Gordon Clifford, it says, and then a picture of this guy — of Michael —

Oh, holy shit.

Calum looks up, and Michael #5 — no, this is Michael, real Michael Clifford — is looking expectantly at him.

Somehow, all he can think to say is, “You were right. I’m extremely embarrassed.”

Rock star Michael fucking Clifford laughs at him, amiably. “Oh, that’s alright,” he says. “You seem like you’ve had a long day.”

“The longest,” Calum agrees, somewhat dazed. “You think that was boring? Imagine sitting through seven hours of that.”

“You should try my job,” Michael says.

“Oh, I did,” Calum says. “Didn’t really take off for me. Way to complain about fame and fortune, though. I really pity you.”

“Hey, you didn’t even think I was really me,” Michael shoots back. Which. Fair enough. “Wow, I must have sounded like an asshole, huh? That’s not me, I swear. I’m usually super chill. It’s just…imagine entering a contest for Calum lookalikes and losing. Wouldn’t that just throw you?”

“You weren’t so bad,” Calum says, and then amends, “Okay, you were a little bad, but only because nobody believed you. In retrospect, your anger is justifiable.”

Michael looks gratefully at Calum. “Thanks.”

Okay, Calum’s cool. Calum’s totally relaxed. He’s just having a chat with his favorite musician of all time. This is fine. Calum’s a security guard, for fuck’s sake. He’s practically known for being stoic. That’s his whole gig.

He tries a smile. Okay, he’s not cool at all. Michael is gorgeous and Calum is weak and he doesn’t even know how to talk. He can’t remember any words. Relevant topics. Calum sifts desperately through his brain. “Uh, you’re in Sydney early?”

Michael laughs again. It’s a wonderful sound that Calum’s heard many times in radio interviews and the like, but never in person. He wants to hear it again and again forever. “Yeah, well. It’s home, you know? And I didn’t have anything else going on. Plus, I heard about this,” he gestures vaguely behind them to the building which is housing the lookalike contests, “and thought it’d be a good time. You know. Funny prank, or something.”

“That went well,” Calum says, joking.

Michael shrugs. “Could’ve gone worse. Met you, didn’t I?”

Well, if Michael’s trying to stop his heart, he’s succeeded. “I’m not,” Calum says. His tongue fails him. He tries again, smiling feebly. “I’m not, uh, usually the one people are excited to meet, out of the two of us.”

“Well, I’ve already met me,” Michael says. “And honestly, I could take me or leave me. You’re nice, though. And very handsome, which helps.”

Calum hums. “I thought Michael #12 was a bit better-looking than you.” Oh, don’t mind me, just FLIRTING WITH MICHAEL CLIFFORD OVER HERE.

Michael fakes looking hurt, impressively well. “Unbelievably rude of you. Here I am, being charming and delightful, and you say that shit?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” Calum says. Michael eyes him suspiciously, but Calum can’t resist: “Michael #8 actually did it for me.”

“That’s it,” Michael says. “I take back the invite. You can sit at home and eat chips and feel sorry for yourself tomorrow night.”

“What invite?”

Michael raises his eyebrows. “The…the show, Calum. I was serious. Unless — if you were joking about wanting to come…” This time he really does look hurt, and does a bad job trying to hide it.

“No,” Calum says hastily. “No, no, I meant it, I just — I thought you were joking. Of course I’ll come, that’s — that would be amazing.”

Michael bites his lip. “If I asked you to get dinner tonight, is that too forward?”

“Too forward?” Calum echoes, because that’s the only part of that sentence he’s able to process without his brain melting.

Michael nods. “Yeah, like. We just met, and you’re a fan, which is cool, but you just, honestly, seem like a really good guy. And you’re cute. I’m not trying to leverage power or anything because you like my music. You can totally say no, I won’t, like, have another meltdown. Just, I don’t know. I guess I could stand a few more good guys in my corner.” He looks down at his shoes, scuffing the ground.

It makes Calum (the part of Calum that’s still chugging along and not frozen solid at being asked on a date by Michael Clifford) wonder if Michael is lonely, or something. He’s clearly nervous. He’s nervous. He’s Michael Clifford, and he’s played to sold-out stadiums hundreds of thousands of times, and he’s standing here, nervously asking Calum on a date.

“I’d love to,” Calum says sincerely. Michael’s face lights up. “But, uh, I work until midnight. So unless you want, like, midnight pizza…”

“Midnight pizza is exactly what I want,” Michael declares. He glances back at the building. “You should probably go back in, right? Without me, since you were supposed to escort me out and, like, discipline me.”

“Discipline you? What do you think my job is?”

Michael waves him off. “It’s fine. Here, let me give you my number. You can just call me when you’re done here.”

Calum tries to blink the stars out of his eyes as he unlocks his phone and hands it to Michael. Michael puts his number in and says, “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Calum says. “I’m starving. Midnight pizza sounds fantastic.”

“If one of the other Michael lookalikes showed up in my place, you reckon you’d notice?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Calum says. “None of them are as pretty as you.”

Michael blushes, lips wide in a smile, and Calum had been kidding, but now he really means it; there’s no mistaking the sheer beauty of Michael Clifford. There never will be again.

(When he goes back in, the other security guard, Emily, gives him a sympathetic smile, and Calum almost breaks down laughing.

“Sorry you got stuck with the crazy one,” she says, grimacing.

“Oh, that’s alright, he turned out to be more misunderstood than anything,” Calum says cryptically. “But we worked it out.” Emily looks confused, and Calum grins. “You can take the next one.”)

#fic #malum #ur a goddamn hero for sending me a prompt #i needed to break out of my writing slump or whatever was going on with me #did i need to do it TONIGHT?? instead of MY LAB FINAL???#no #yall are gonna hear a lot about this lab final tonight and then never again #bc i believe it's due tomorrow #so if it's not done tomorrow....hmmmm #anyway #i love u for sending thissss #my fic #Anonymous #ask #answered #5sos

13 notes · View notes

shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

Text

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #fanfiction #PearlJamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #MikeMcCready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

12 notes · View notes

vegetacide · 4 years

Text

Cloak and Dagger

Veg●notable: Okay, I had a little fun with this and took a few liberties with one of the boys… It worked for I wanted but I am not sure how it will be received... ::ducks behind a Tracy so she doesn’t get hit with anything...::

Also I am kinda being a pantser with this chapter.. I have a general idea of where I want it to go but I didn’t suss it out like I have in other chapters so please excuse if the pacing if off. I kinda let the Boys tell me where they wanted to go and what sort of interactions they wanted to have….and they may have gone a bit off course..

As per the norm.. All errors and such are my own.

Read, review, like, reblog.. Whatever the platform, it is very, very much appreciated and it all acts as my motivational fuel.

Previous Chapters

Intro | One | Two

Chapter 3: Games

Enjoy!

o0o

Scott drummed his fingers along the careworn surface of his father’s desk, his gaze lost to the middle distance as he thought over the information that had just been brought to him. Not that there was much, which was the problem in and of itself.

Kayo and Lady Penelope had had very little to tell him. After Fuse’s botched attempt at the old, disused power plant to obtain nuclear material he’d just up and disappeared. Their security expert and London agent had been traipsing around the globe trying to track down leads for weeks now but there was no sign of the Chaos member, his sister or for that matter the Hood… anywhere..at all.

For the Hood on his own, it wasn’t that unusual. The criminal would go quiet for a spell and not resurface for months. Now that he was with the Crew, that was an entirely different story.

Normal some tidbit of information would crop up of a sighting in some far corner of the world, or a rumour of some heist or another would drift about on the dark web. Either Lady P would poke at it to figure out if it was worth further effort or Kayo would get a call from the GDF to check with some contacts but everything had gone silent. There was nothing, no where.

Scott looked up at the muted holo-cast. A variation of the same headline scrolled along under the chrome anchors’ desk and something in the pit of his stomach tightened. This eerie feeling of foreboding had been dogging him since the plant and he just knew this wasn’t going to end well.

Picking up an old school stylus that for some reason his father had kept even with the advent of modern computer interfaces, Scott examined its length. His father had owned it for as long as he could remember. He’d once asked Jeff why he insisted on keeping it and his father had smiled in that way he did and had said that ‘somethings were just worth keeping.’ He hadn’t elaborated in any other way or given any other hint to his reasoning after that. It left Scott scratching his head in confusion.

Even now all these years later he still didn’t understand though as he looked at the smooth finish and felt the weight of it between his fingers, he could understand its appeal. It provided something tangible to hold on to, tactile.

In his case not only physically but it also provided him with a psychologically connection to the man they all missed so much. A man he truly wished was with them right now.

Maybe the great Jeff Tracy would be able to wrap his head around all this, come out with a master plan so at the end of the day the world was a better, safer place. Scott certainly didn’t think he had the chops to do it himself. Self doubt was a bitch especially when there was no supporting hand to guide you.

His father was going to come home, Scott knew that for sure. WIth Brains basically locked away working on the zero-x engine it was only a matter of time. Scott just hoped that when they got their father back…. Why was he even thinking about this? Setting the stylus back down, he rubbed at the back of his head in hopes of dispelling the direction of his thoughts. This was not helping.

Snagging his forgotten cup of coffee, he took a swig and grimaced. Cold and it was the good stuff from Virgil’s hidden stash behind the lima bean in the pantry. Eyeballing the drink with its thin layer of cream film on top, he sighed and tossed the rest back. It was too much effort to haul his ass downstairs for a fresh cup, besides his brother would kick his butt if he were to find out he knew of the existence of the rich, smoky ground beans and had wasted it. Better to just suck it up and deal with the cold brew then risk the engineer’s wrath.

“Thunderbird 5 to base.”

“Hey John,” Scott greeted with the raise of his now empty coffee mug. “What’s up?”

“Just letting you know Grandma is on approach. Will be there in t-minus 5”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

John nodded in return and they sat in silence for a moment. By the controlled look on John’s face Scott could tell that the monitor was working up to say something more. Leaning back in his chair, he cocked a foot over one knee and steepled his fingers as his brother processed whatever it was that was on his mind.

Scott didn’t want to push but time was ticking. “Johnny….?” He knew the use of his brother’s childhood nickname would get the ball rolling.

John’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the moniker but the redhead let it slide. “How’s it going down there?”

Scott dropped his hands, pushed up to his feet and walked the short distance to the sunken seating area. “As well as can be expected.” Taking the steps down he parked on his usually couch with a heavy sigh. Sinking into the cushions with a slouch and tossing an arm up and over the back.

“That sounds...” John paused as he searched for the appropriate word, “to steal a phrase from Alan.. craptastic.”

One shoulder went up in a shrug and Scott dragged in a deep breathe. “Ya, well. Shitty situation but you know how these things go. Time and space and all that.”

“Time and space?” A smirk settled on John’s face. “This coming from you. Eos mark down the time and date. Scott is being reasonable”

“Time and date noted, John.” Came the young voice of the A.I. “I have also taken the liberty of recording this interaction for posterity in the likelihood that you want to revisit the momentous occasion.”

John chuckled as the light ring came into the view field of the camera. The array of little lights flashing in what Scott could only conclude as amusement at his cost. The A.I was learning and learning fast and Scott didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Hardy har.” A dry sound, accompanied by an eye roll. “Am I really that bad?”

The stare and awestruck look he received by way of answer should have been enough.”Aw, come on…”

“If smother hen was in the dictionary, Scott. You would be the picture beside it.” It was said rather frankly and that irked Scott into yet another eyeroll. “Matter of fact, it might actually already be in Urban Dictionary..”

“Okay. Okay..I get it. Enough already.” Scott’s boredom and disdain at the direction of the conversation wasn’t hard to miss. “I can’t help it. I worry about all of you.”

John took pity on his elder brother, the smile leaving his face. “I know you do, Scott. Especially when it’s Virgil.”

Scott sagged further into the couch.

“We all need to fall apart every now and again. The same applies to Virgil.” John spoke, his voice carrying across the distance. “As much as we rely on him to be the family rock, even a rock wears down over time when enough stress is applied.”

“Ya, I know. You’re right.” Scott leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees as he looked at the floor. “I just wish…” He didn’t finish his train of thought.

“Scott, he’ll be fine. Just give him the room to breath and in a day or two he will be right as rain again. He needs to stew this over a bit.” John shifted his gaze away from the cam, his projected hand skimming over something off screen.

“Well from what Brain’s has told me, Virgil has him doing system checks on all the wash-bays. Maybe an answer will be there for him.”

“You talked to Brain?”

“Yes, just before calling you. He wanted me to look at some computations. Double check his math and he didn’t want to bother Virgil with it” Floating about the space station some 22,000 kilomitres above them, John glaced backup a moment. “Why? Haven’t you talked to him?”

Scott sat up a bit straighter, sheepishly ashamed that the yelling the night before had sent the mousy genus into hiding in the bowels of the island. “Not since we got back..”

“Oh,” John failed to hide the nonplussed expression that flashed across the screen. “Glad I was off world last night than..:”

“Jay, you’re always off world”

John couldn’t say anything to counter that and Scott knew it. The star obsessed Tracy rarely made landfall and Scott tried to think back on how long it had been since the astronaut had been forced to submit to some down time.

“Scott, you’re getting that look in your eyes again.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I need to smother’ look that comes with the forehead wrinkles of the elderly.. Don’t you dare set your sights on me. I am needed up here with full access to all of 5’s systems and you know it.”

Scott put his hands up in surrender, not wanting to have another sibling forcibly shutting him out. “Message received and watched the old person jokes. They are laugh lines not stress.. The hair though, that’s all from you guys.”

John looked off camera again and his expression changed from brotherly bemusement to curious. “Aunt Val is reaching out. I’ll patch her though.”

Scott cursed under his breath and ignored the admonishing glare from space. Seemed he hadn’t sworn as quietly as he thought, good thing Gran….

“Scott Bartholomew Carpenter Tracy!”

Scott flinched at the sudden loud bark of reproach directed his way as his Grandmother marched into the room, fire and brimstone in her wake. “You were not raised in a barn, young man.” Crap, his diminutive elder was not impressed, especially if she broke out the little known and seldom used ‘Bartholomew.’

He was the only brother out of the five to be graced with the additionally middle name, gifted to him as the first born from his great, great Grandfather. A Tribute to a war vet that his father had been blessed with as well and one that made Scott shudder every time he heard it.

“Well technically… “John piped up earning him a warning glare from Scott.

“Gee John, thanks for the warning.. “ Scott grumbled with little enthusiasm and dripping with sarcastic annoyance.

“I did,” John blinked.

Scott contemplated several ways to seek revenge over the tirade of the fierce and feisty Sally Tracy and most of them involved airlocks and a module full of moldy bagels.

John did his level best to hide his smile at the misfortune of the eldest. “I told you she was on approach and you know she has the ears of a bat, Scooter.”

Scott glared at the space nut but all he got in return was a very large grin before the monitor disappeared and the 3D rendition of his Godmother materialized.

“Colonel Casey” Scott acknowledges, his Grandmother patted his knee in greeting and settled down on the couch beside him, the vexed look still sparking in her cerulean gaze.

“Valerie,” His Grandma piped up. “You’re a sight for sore eyes”

“Scott. Sally.” A crisp, formal acknowledgement. Definitely a business call.

The tone made Scott straighten his spine, posture ramrodding as his years of military training kicked in. Pushing to his feet, the Commander of International Rescue took up the forefront of his mind. The dilemma of the current Tracy drama brushed aside as the call to arms; so to speak, was issued by his honorary Aunt’s projected persona.

“What can I do for you, Colonel Casey?”

“Orders come down the pipe, Scott. General Abner informed me this afternoon that World Council has declared Kazakhstan a no fly zone. All personnel, both combative and civilian are on evac orders effective immediately. As of 23:00, anything in or outbound found crossing restrictive airspace will be termed hostile and dealt with accordingly.”

“And as our liaison..?” Scott asked, bracing for the answer that he feared.

“I’ve been advised to inform you that the restriction extends to International Rescue as well. Under no circumstance is International; Rescue to enter that airspace. Any action will be seen as an act of aggression against the WC and those perpetrating said act are to be shot down.”

“Noted.”

“Scott, you need to abide by this ruling. This is from way up the food chain. There will be nothing I can do to help you if these orders are disregarded. “ Casey stressed. “You will be on your own.I’ve also been instructed that anyone aiding and abetting is to be brought in and prosecuted under the full force of the law.”

Meaning, the whole family would be under threat and the whole might of the GDF would be pointed in their direction. Even though they claimed no allegiance to any known entity, International Rescue and by turn the Tracy’s would be marked as traitors “I understand Colonel.”

Essentially the country has been walled off and Scott wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He just hoped that there would be no call out for iR in the vicinity of the damned country but he knew from experience hopes and wishes were very seldom taken into consideration.

-o-o-

Some 6,500km away, tucked under a remote mountain village on the furthest edge of Kazakhstan a display monitor beeped to life with the flow of garish, green text. Servos hummed, fans ticked on and a smile crept across the harshly angled face with amber eyes.

Piece by piece plans that had taken months to arrange were finally starting to come together. Money had passed hands, people had been bought, information exchanged and like pawns on a chessboard, the players were shifting into their places.

Looking at the board, the queen slipped into place and unbeknownst to all but one, the king now sat vulnerable. The end was in sight.

Let the games begin.

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfic #Virgil Tracy #Tanusha Kyrano #Kayo Kyrano #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #Lady Penelope #Pen and Ink #Grandma Tracy #Colonel Casey #Cloak and Dagger #international rescue

17 notes · View notes

navalcriminalimagines · 5 years

Text

Comfort zone - 4

Tag list (if you want to be tag, just let me know!): @madpanda75 @zombz78 @zoeykaytesmom @mommakat32@hannahlouise98 @imaginecrushes @cold-blooded-girls @sweetsummertime99 @solleblu

At 4am, you were still wide awake on the couch. You considered sleeping next to Sonny - or maybe just watching him sleeping but by the time you went to the bathroom and came back to the bedroom, he was extended on the bed like a sea star. The man really has long arms and long legs. You took the sight of him, asleep here, on your bed. You could have stayed there for hours. But you had to sleep, or at least try.

Sonny woke up before you did and he felt awful. His head was hurting and his mouth felt so dry. He entered the living room and saw you sleeping on the couch that you converted into a bed. It was his turn to take a sight of you. You look even more beautiful when you were peacefully sleeping. He quickly took a big glass of water and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you, your face, your hair, your lips, your neck, your shoulder, your back… no one ever made him feel this way. He realized that what he felt for his exes wasn’t true love. You are true love.

He thought he saw you shivering, so he pulled up the covers to your neck. Your body reacted and searched for his. You curled your hair on his abs and put your arm around his waist. Sonny leaned into your touch and laid down next to you, slowly. He didn’t fall back to sleep, he simply enjoyed every second of this moment. It could be over the moment you open your eyes.

Few hours later, you woke up to the sensation of a soft skin against yours. For a quick second, you wondered who joined the other, but you were still on the couch. He joined you. Laid next to you. Watched you sleep? “Morning,” you heard from above your head. You looked up to meet his ocean blue eyes, smile and messy hair. He looked even more beautiful. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and sat up.

“I’m sorry I joined you, I-” you seemed unhappy to wake up next to him, maybe he shouldn’t have listen his instincts.

“Shh, Sonny. I’m not a morning person,” you reminded him. He knows you don’t like to talk before your first coffee.

“Let me prepared you a coffee,” he offered and went to the kitchen. You watched him walking around in your apartment only in his boxers. You had to restrain yourself from jumping out of the bed into his arms and kiss him like you never kissed anyone before. Or at least, Jeff.

The two of you silently drank your coffee. Once you were done, your mood literally changed. You smiled for the first time today and put some rock music. You started to clean a bit th living area, dancing and singing around. Sonny followed your good mood and helped you, before offering his hand to have a dance together. “Should I stay or should I go” field the apartment, and Sonny was trying to have a seductive dance. You laughed from the surprise but it made him sexier and irresistible.

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go, there will be trouble

And If I stay it will be double

So come on and let me know

He sang with his Staten Island accent, while looking deep in your eyes. You got closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should stay,” you said. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you could feel it in your temples. Sonny’s face light up at your words. His hands got in the small of your back and he put his forehead against yours. Your phone randomly played “Shy” from Sonata Arctica. Both of you kept slow dancing. Sonny never heard this song before, but it feels like he knows it from hearing you singing it a lot.

Obsessed by you, your looks, well, anyway I would any day die for you,

I write on paper & erased away

Still I sit in diner Citylite, drinking coffee and reading lies

Turn my head and I can see you, could that really be you

Sometimes I'm wondering why you look at me and you blink your eye

You can't be acting like my Dana ?

I see your beautiful smile and I would like to run away from

Reflections of me in your eyes, oh please

Talk to me, show some pity

You touch me in many, many ways

But I'm shy can't you see

“Was it a call when you sang this around me?” he smiled. This song appeared to be full of sense right now. You returned his smile and stayed silent. Sonny decided to follow his instincts and bend his head so his lips met yours. It was finally happening. Sonny was kissing you. You can’t remember how many times you thought about it but nothing can compared to the reality. His lips are softer than his skin, his tongue tastes like coffee. You could kiss him for the rest of your life.

The kiss quickly became intense and passionate. Sonny held your body against his as much as it was physically possible. You got lost into his kisses and touches for a while, until you felt nervous about all of this. You obviously wanted to have sex with Sonny but you only have been with one man until then. You and Jeff tried a few stuff in the past but it always stayed pretty simple. Sonny will be disappoint. He had exes. Not a lot from what he told you but more than one. What if sex is miserable between the two of you? He probably will never come back to you.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him. You thought he would be mad or frustrated but he smiled at you and gently hugged you. “How nervous are you?” he whispered in your ear.

“Stop reading me like a open book, I hate it,” you sighed and Sonny laughed.

“It’s all your fault, you’re so real and honest,” he paused, “how about we have a proper date? Tonight? And I don’t want you to feel like you have to do something you don’t want, okay?”

You thought for a second, “Dominick, are you single to ask me out?” you teased.

“That’s going to be my shortest period as a single man,”

After choosing the time and place for your date, Sonny did what he had to in the afternoon and you paid a visit to Rafael. On a saturday afternoon, you surprised the famous ADA in his sweatpants and old harvard shit. His hair was messy and you could tell he hadn’t shave yet. “Rough night?” you laughed when he opened his door. You let yourself in and offered one of the iced coffee and donut you brought. Your good mood disappeared when you saw how sad he seemed. “Rafa, are you okay?” you asked, worried.

A single tear rolled over his cheek but Rafael quickly dried it with the back of his hand. “Mi abuela-” he tried to say but his voice broke and you could tell he was fighting against more tears. You didn’t have to a detective to understand. You closed the gap between the two of you and hugged your friend. “I’m so sorry, Rafa,” you whispered.

“It’s- my fault,” you heard him say and you pulled him away to look at his face.

“Why are you saying this?” you asked, “It’s not,”

“I wanted her to leave her apartment- even though she made it clear she didn’t want to- but I’m a stubborn dumbass,”

Spending weeks with Rafael made you understand who he was inside and what he was trying so hard to hide. You knew trying to convince him otherwise was pointless. “Rafael Barba, if you don’t stop thinking that way, I’m going to tell your mami,” a sad smile crossed his face.

You spent the rest of the day with Rafael. He told you didn’t have to but it was obvious he shouldn’t be alone. You listened to his thoughts, dried his tears and hugged him when he needed too. But you also said dumb things, made jokes and talked about anything to changed his mind from time to time.

Around 6pm, Lucia Barba showed up to her son’s apartment. She explained to him everything about Catalina’s funeral. Lucia seemed to handle this better than her son but you knew the two of you were suffering. It has been just the three of them for years now and one is gone. That leaves just Rafael and his mother. When you offered to make them dinner, you totally forgot about your date with Sonny. Lucia was in the living room, and Rafael was helping you in the kitchen. “Thank you for everything,” he kissed your cheek.

“Not long ago, someone told me, that’s what friends are here for,” you softly smiled.

“By the way, how are things with your partner?” he asked.

“DAMN!” you exclaimed, “Sonny!” panicked, you searched for your phone all round the kitchen.

“Y/N, back pocket,” Rafael reminded you. You were supposed to meet Sonny ten minutes ago. He hadn’t texted or called yet. Maybe he was late too? You were typing a text to him when he called.

“Sonny!” you answered.

“Y/N!” he returned with the same ton.

“Are you already at the restaurant?” you asked.

“Yes, the waitress just brought me my beer. Where are you?”

“At Rafa’s- Something happened, um- I-” you heard him sarcastically laugh over the phone.

“I leave you for an afternoon and you run to him, huh?”

“Sonny, it’s not-”

“Nevermind,” he cut you off, “Have a fun night with Rafa,” he hang up.

You froze where you were, blankly staring at your phone. “Is it my fault? Do I need to interfere again?” Rafael asked, concerned.

“No, no- that’s a stupid jealous reaction. Anyway, your mum is waiting for us,” you took the plates and brought them to the table where Lucia was already sitting.

The beginning of dinner was quiet and actually, no one was hungry. Rafael and Lucia were sad and you felt anxious. You had to tell Sonny why you stayed with Rafa all day long.

[To Sonny] : Rafa’s grandmother passed away. I’m with him and his mother. Can I come over when I’m leaving his place?

Sonny never answered that night, and you stayed at Rafael’s.

#law and order svu #rafael barba #svu fanfiction #sonny carisi #svu fic #svu imagine #amanda rollins #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #sonny carisi fic #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit

84 notes · View notes

crisscolferfanforever · 5 years

Text

Milwaukee Law after Shock

We see the wapuan correctional facility we see a man named Larry Edwards who was found guilty 2 years ago of a murder of a boy that he raped in

Milwaukee country a case that peters and Megan prosecutor and ray and his detectives investigate we see him eating his breakfast she has a

conversation with another rapist

MR. Scott

“Heard you did okay last night”.

Larry Edwards looks at Scott

Larry

“Meatloaf and mash”.

Scott

“A couple of Dr Peppers”.

Another man name Jeff who is serving a 25years to life for a murder in

Merrill Wisconsin

Jeff

“I would've gone with a pizza, sausage and pepper”.

Larry looks at the guys

Larry

“I am not on death row “

Jeff

“Maybe I should start over”.

Scott

“I bet you get a real kick out of that.

Now's not a good time to go crybaby, Mickey.

Yeah, right.”

Larry leaves to go back to his cell

Larry

“In your dreams”.

He goes to his cell which he is approach by a guard

Jason

“You sure about the priest?”

Mr. Edwards goes to Church every Sunday trying to find his faith

Larry

“I’m sure”.

Jason

“How about the curtain? “

Larry

“What about it?”

Jason

“It's your choice, Mr.

Edwards. Open or closed?”

Larry

“What would you like?”

Jason

“Closed.”

Larry

“Then close the sucker “

Jason

“Fine.”

Jason leaves as Larry meets in his cell with a priest as they began his

service

Larry

“Like a damn fish in a barrel”.

Eric

“Want to say anything?”

Larry who is dying of aids drops his pants in front of the priest and he

snaps Larry

“Do it.”

We approach Ray’s office Ray is talking to Jerry and char on a case that

end when the phone rings

Ray

“Curtis here”

Ray looks at Char and jerry

Ray (counties)

“Thank you, MR. Stone, “

He hangs up the phone

Ray

“that was Mr. Stone at appoxirity 8:00 am guards at the Green Bay Prison

Larry Edwards was found dead in his cell they believe he killed himself

after he forced himself on a persist “

Jerry

“ok after that I need a bit to eat “

He leaves

We see Megan and Peter driving on Water street in a traffic jam

Peter

“They should ban cars in Milwaukee “.

Megan looks at him

Megan

“What”

Peter drinks

Peter

“no pithy response”

Megan

“You leave me speechless”.

Peter

“Nobody forced you to watch it”.

Megan gets stop on Wisconsin Ave

Megan

“I can't imagine what it must be like, staring at a clock, knowing the

exact moment”.

Peter

“Adele Saunders thought she was going to work.

She ended up dead.”

Megan “Your pity's misplaced.

I'm tired of arguing, peter “.

Peter

“Good.”

Megan

“You know, I'm not feeling too well.

Must be the flu.”

Peter

“Yeah, The flu.”

Peter

“Want to take the day? No, I've got Silverman”.

Megan

“I'll cover”.

Peter

“What? You sure? Okay, fine”.

Peter gets out of car

Megan

“I'll drop you off at the office”.

Peter

“No problem”.

Megan

“And you've got Schwinger”.

Peter

“She'll wait. I’ll take a cab.”

Megan

“Maybe you'll feel better”.

Peter

“I'll call you later.”

We go back to Ray’s Office we see char and ray Char

“Hell, of a way to spend your day off.”

Ray sits down

Ray

“He just twitched”.

Jerry

“his eyes were wide open, case closed.”

Char

“What did you expect, a dozen archangels strumming their harps?”

Ray

Well, Larry Edwards going to have nothing to do with angels.

Who knows? Maybe somebody somewhere will learn something from this.

Yeah, the 30 friends and neighbors that cheered when he ripped off Greg

Boyce pants and raped him.”

Jerry

“You want to get some Chinese, char? I guess death make me hungry.”

Char

“Actually, I've got some files I've got to finish up.”

Jerry

“Hey, watch out, Lieutenant.

This kid's gunning for your job”.

Ray

“Yeah, well, it doesn't get her any overtime.”

They go outside to their office where the clapping begins

Steve

“So, where you are going, to Disneyland?”

Jerry

“Knock it off, Profaci.”

Mike

“What's up with him?”

Char sits down

Char

“He lost the lotto.” Ray

“Takes it personal.”

Steve

“Beginning of a new era, huh, Ray?”

Jerry

“We're just lucky that Edwards kept his lawyers out of it until the

bitter end.”

We go into Peter’s office where they are discussing a plea deal and

talking about today

Kim

“So, what's it like, man? What? was the guy green when you saw him? Does he lose control of his bodily functions or what? That would be cruel and

unusual.”

Peter

“Yeah.”

Johnny gets his brief cases out

Johnny

“For the poor SOB who had to clean up the vomit when they found him.”

Peter gets to business

Kim

“Man, two peters? Three-to-nine?”

Peter

“Not a chance Man one. Five-to-15.”

Johnny

“Is that the best you can do? A bird in the hand, David.

Right.”

Peter

“My mistake.”

They look at Peter

Kim

“you guys give us a moment “

They leave

Kim looks at her friend from Law school

Kim

“what’s going on”

Peter

“I don’t think I should have came to work “

Kim

“is it because of your father “

Peter

“just a little bit “

Kim

“I forgot how easy this job is for you when you don't have any choices.

Marissa and Kevin Mandalay.”

The come back in

Peter

“Nothing to talk about, Man one all around.”

Kim

“Come on, peter.”

Johnny

“Marissa's an honors student, a member of the math club.

Who likes to hold up bodegas?”

Peter

“Oh, that was Kevin.”

Johnny

“Marissa just thought they were going in for Ding Dongs.

With an Uzi?”

Kim

“She's a good kid, peter.”

Johnny

“Give her aiding and abetting.”

Kim

“Kevin, he goes the distance.”

Peter

“Sorry.”

Kim then calls Peter out of the office

Kim

“I love as a Friend and as college friend and co-worker please what’s

going on “

Peter

“I am just not in the mood “

Kim

“did you call Stacy”

Peter

“she won’t help”

Kim

“I get it you hate losing and I know she needs take reasonability for

her actions so let’s talk about it on Monday “

Peter nods

Kim

“when is Megan going to be in the office “

Peter

“she’s thinking of quitting “

Kim

“so that’s what’s bothering you “

Peter

“yes”

They walk into peter’s office

Peter

“I will make you an offer on one condition”

Johnny

“were open ears peter “

Peter

“we wait until Monday morning “

Johnny looks at Kim

Johnny

“deal”

We see Jerry eating lunch without char with a bunch of guys

Buddy

“So, me and Jerry are still in uniform.”

Jerry eats his Chinese

Jerry

“yeah and in 25 years on force in Milwaukee I have never seen a dumb

crime “

Buddy

“tell them about the case that happen 3 years ago “

Jerry

“oh, so we had a simple assault case and the mother came to bail him out

and “

Buddy

“the bail was 650 and she paid all of it “

Jerry

“in Nickels “

They all laugh

The waiter comes in

Glen

“so, do you guys want any more “

Jerry

“I am leaving I got go see my son”

Glen

“that will be 12.50”

Jerry

“here’s a 20 and keep the change handsome “

They all laugh

We approach the 2-9 where Ray and Char are working on the Larry Edwards

case for paper work

Char

“I can’t do this anymore”

Ray

“what’s the problem “

Char

“why are we still working on this “

Ray

“unknown victims “

Char

“I can’t take this right now”

Steve comes in

Steve

“what’s the matter “

Ray

“let’s go home for the day and come back later I think this whole day is

getting us where we are now “

Steve

“ok”

They leave

we approach the DA office Ryan comes into peter office

Ryan

“I got to do a news conference to do and I don’t want to do it “

Peter

“It will be fine “

Ryan

“it’s not New York city where it’s a death sentence “

Peter

“I know my Father was the DA there for 25 years “

Ryan

“ok, where is Megan”

Peter

“she’s got the Flu “

Ryan

“alright what are you doing “

Peter

“I am going have lunch with J.K and Liz “

Ryan

“ok”

They leave the office

We approach Peter who is at a lunch with the two

Olivet

“so, they found him hanging “

Peter

“yes “

J.k comes in sits at the table

J.k

“well how is the family of Greg Boyce and John Kohler doing “

Peter

“I spoke to Linda and James and they don’t want to talk about it “

Olivet

“well I can see that after 3 years you think they got the courage to

talk “

Peter drinking his water

Peter

“no “

J.k

“how many killings was he suspected of “

Peter

“30 Killing , 60 rapes , then these are all boys “

Olivet

“well I got a patient at four about this “

Peter

“what’s good here “

J.K

“the pasta is “

Peter

“good I’ll have that “

Olivet

“oh speaking that , I got the Kimberly Neweman file for you “

J.K

“that is brutal “

Olivet

“she kills her husband simple because she didn’t get what she got in the

Divorce “

Peter

“sounds Like Diane Brochardt “

J.K

“copy cat “

Peter

“can we just eat”

They look at peter

Olivet

“you saw a man dead and you were supposed to do nothing “

We approach Jerry eating Lunch with his son at Beans and Barley where they talk about life in general starting with the Whitehouse

Jerry

“Can you believe Richie? “

His son James looks at him

James

“I am voting for Bartlett “

Jerry

“I am too”

James

“well my basketball season went well “

Jerry

“tell me about it “

James

“well We lost in the Sectional Finals to Pewaukee finished 20-6 “

Jerry

“they should add two more games “

James

“ha-ha, I miss when Division 1 Had three days at Madison “

Jerry

“same “

Jerry keeps on eating

James

“what’s going dad “

Jerry looks at his son

Jerry

“this morning I was called to Dodge County and I saw a body of an inmate that I arrested, and I wasn’t supposing Invest age my Job is to see dead people daily and then fine the son of a bitch who did it and today I

didn’t “

James

“dad don’t feel bad “

Jerry

“thank you “

We see Peter at a bar on Milwaukee’s Brady Street where he is still waiting to hear from Megan he talks with the Bartender

Peter

“it’s a Bitch? who the wife the husband, the kids, and then he’s like

yeah all of those things”

Mike

“you Ben Stone’s son “

Peter

“yeah “

Mike

“I have never seen you before here but only on tv “

Peter

“My old man was a DA in New York for 30 years he has worked notable cases like the case involving Frankie Boy Jordan “

Mike

“the Mob of New York”

Peter

“yes, and his down fall was the mob”

Mike

“tell me about it “

Peter takes a drink and starts talking

Peter

“he was trying a case that had a wittiness that was in fear for her life and when he return after the not guilty verdict came in the men that were on trial went after her and shot her so I was about 16 my mother was home and she heard the door slam my father was down stairs drinking he did not come up my mother was worried it was 11 pm she found him dead

“

(the Music gets tense)

We approach the 2-9 where we see ray on the phone with Steve wife

Ray

“hey how are you doing I am good, he left but I will check and get back

to you “

Ray walks out and see Jason

Ray

“hey Soderberg where did Steve go off too “

Jason

“I think he went get away “ Ray

“well his wife is calling “

Jason

“I will call him “

Ray

“Thank you “

We see Steve out in Bayshore Mail just reading a book and eating a

pretzel where he gets a call on his cell

Steve

“hello”

It’s his wife

Steve

“hey what’s, I am in Whitefish Bay right now you want to come up,

alright see you in bit “

He keeps on reading

We approach Jerry and his son walking in Walker’s point

Jerry

“so, who are you playing for non-conference “

Ken

“we play two games in New York then we play Tosa West , Tosa east ,

Wisco , and Milwaukee Washington”

Jerry

“you trying to get a one Seed “

Ken “yeah”

Jerry

“do you know who your playing in New York “

Ken

“We are playing Buffalo East and La Luleuime “

Jerry

“wow “

Ken

“I get back to work if you need anything just let me know “

Jerry

“thank you “

We approach Marquette Law School where Megan’s Brother Max is teaching

she enters as

Max

“how is it possible that DOMA and Prop 8 where struck down in the courts, while other cases had the react opposite holding? Miss Johnson?”

Johnson

“the 14th Amendment “

Max

“you are partly correct “

Johnson just looks dumbfounded

Max

“remember class what did the people that were fighting case want, Miss

Johnson try again “

Johnson

“Equal protection “

Max

“that is correct, class the people wanted to be treated just like everyone eles it wasn’t about a social event that they were going to

remember that now “

Class is dismissed

Megan waits for her brother

Max

“you here for a re do “

Megan

“some things never change, you pulled equal rights stuff on me “

Max

“no, we are talking about the 14th Ademenht, what do you want to talk

about “

Megan

“Larry Edwards “

Max

“I heard he committed suicide”

Megan

“I still wish Wisconsin had the death plenty “

Max

“I can tell you why I am not for it and why I am here instead of the

court room in Chicago “

Megan

“why are you against it “

Max

“let’s go up to my office “

We approach the Bar where Jerry comes in

Jerry looks at the bar as peter is on the phone probably to Adam

Jerry

“is this seat taken “

Hank

“yes, my friend “

Jerry

“who is your friend “

Hank points

Jerry turns around

Jerry

“oh great, this guy is trouble you do know that “

Peter

“Jerry how’s it going “

Jerry

“I need a Club Soda “

Hank

“long day”

Jerry

“no depression “

Peter

“hank Cheer him up “

We go back to Max’s office where he and Megan are discussing Larry

Edwards

Max

“so, he died “

Megan

“yes “

Max

“why do you care “

Megan

“because my Boss and I had a fight”

Max

“your fighting with Stone “

Megan

“yeah “

Max

“remember what Penn taught you, and you will be fine “

Megan

“yeah, “

Max

“your mother and father want you to come and visit “

Megan just looks and leaves

We approach Ray and Megan at the 2-9

Ray

“man, I order way too much “

Jake

“well what do you want to do “

Megan comes in

Ray

“hey you what’s up “

Megan

“not much “

Ray

“I order the orange Chicken and general Tso with Pancakes do you want

any of it “

Megan

“sure, Death makes me hungry “

Ray

“what do you want you pick “

Megan

“give me that general “

They start eating

Ray

“so, how’s the office “

Megan

“I am good “

Ray

“it’s a mess trying to get Larry Edwards confession in writing for the

court it’s so brutal”

Megan

“Ryan did a Press conference “

Ray

“I saw that “

Steve comes in

Steve

“hey sorry to bother you but Kate is doing a press conference “

They turn it on

Ray and Megan watch the confessions

Ray

“ok change the channel “

Megan

“it’s so brutal “

Megan eats a pancake

Megan

“how’s Jess doing “

Ray

“busy with the kids they so adorable “

Megan

“I had a reunion today”

Ray

“with who “

Megan

“my Brother Max he teaches at Marquette “

Ray

“how did that go “

Megan

“very Painful “

Ray

“I am sorry to hear that “

Megan

“I went to Law school at Penn and he went to Law school at Marquette “

Ray

“I went to Uw-Milwaukee with a background in ASL,what is the difference

”

Megan

“he always thinks I am better “

Ray

“I know give it time “

Megan

“my mother was always struck towards him”

Ray

“why”

Megan

“cause he’s Hard of hearing “

Ray

“well maybe I can sign back and forth to him “

Megan

“you have deaf family members “

Ray

“my Mother and my mother In-law”

Megan

“he tried taking ASL and tried being in the deaf community but everyone

rejected him”

Ray

“yeah it can be a tough journey “

Megan phones ring

Megan

“I got take this “

Ray

“you know Jerry needs a driver “

We approach Ray and his wife Jess ray is just tired after a long day and

writing a letter

Jess

“hey Darling “

Ray

“hey”

Jess

“what are you doing it’s almost midnight “

Ray

“writing a letter to my mother “

Jess

“read it for me “

Ray

“Hey mom it’s almost midnight and I don’t know why I am up it was a day like not many happen expect the state of Wisconsin got it’s wish when an inmate killed himself he deserved what happen to him , a 16 year old boy walking down the street he raped and murdered him I suppose I should feel great about the man’s death or bad or guilty I don’t know “

Jess

“don’t lie to Dorthey “

Ray

“I am not trying to lie “

Jess

“darling “

Ray just looks at his wife

We returned to the bar where Jerry and hank are playing pool Megan walks

Hank

“man, you guys should quit your job and join the pool team here “

Jerry

“I like my job “

Hank

“you do “

They laugh

Megan walks in

Hank

“hey you know her “

Jerry

“let me see “

Megan

“you know me don’t play me”

Jerry

“oh yes consular what’s up

Megan

“Peter called me.”

Jerry

“Peter? peter turned into a basketball.”

He sits his drinks down

Jerry

“Can I buy you a drink, Counselor?”

Megan

“No, thanks”.

Jerry

“Okay

I got one for you.

Jerry

“How come California has the most lawyers, and New Jersey has the most

toxic dumps? Because New Jersey got first pick.

You don't get it.”

Megan gives him the look

Megan

“Look, why don't you get your coat, and I'll drive you home?”

Jerry

“Home”

The drunk jerry keeps going

Jerry

“Where in the car Where to? I used to know”.

Jerry and Megan in the car jerry is still talking

Jerry

“So, this morning really bummed you out.”

Do I look bummed out to you? You know, it wouldn't be so terrible.”

Megan looks over at jerry

Megan

“What's that?”

Jerry

“If you were my kid.”

Megan sort laughs it off

Megan

“I guess I should take that as a compliment.”

Jerry keeps rambling

Jerry

“Hey, you're smart, you're pretty, you got a good job, and you don't

hate my guts.”

Megan looks at her passenger

Megan

“Jerry, I doubt your son hates you.”

Jerry sighs

Jerry

“No, you don't know. You don't know him.

I don't even know him. I never will”.

A car droved by drunk driver slams into Megan’s Car as it honks at her

Ray (voice over)

"A crowd of people stood and cheered when he raped him.

"They were supposedly good people, "and they didn’t do anything.

"Then he beat him to death with a baseball bat.

"And today the state of Wisconsin and the city of Milwaukee got its

revenge. "It's not enough, and it's not too much”

Jerry just watched as he injured and a dead body lays in the car

End of 1.8

3 notes · View notes