#free bed! free climbing wall! free bean bag! free Getting Tossed Around!!!!
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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 19
It’s been a while but here is the next part. Kind of simple but it gets the story out of limbo zone and into the meatier part of the flow i wanted to get to anyways. :D
All –
@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars
X all Rich. A - @abiwim, @deepestfirefun, @thestorybookmistress
@evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen
…
Back to the routines you melded easily feeling a bit colder with your father now gone too back to fulfill the final leg of his contracted season before stopping in the end of August to fly out to New Zealand to be with you. A brief week was what you had to deal with yourself alone and groggily on your feet you had finished packing up. The bulk of all you needed in hand for your flight out to LA. It was a shock but with the press and such noteworthy people knowing your name and singing your praises you got landed for a magazine shoot that would land you out there to fit nicely with a spot on a show far from memorable no doubt.
All the same you had to lower your phone when you had told Lee, who was beside himself with worry on his film as the dates neared. The show bits would be the first to film and in the few days you would be in town just like his blankie he wanted to cling to you to get through it. The flight went easily and just as soon as you’d landed it was off to work no matter if you were near to needing a wall to hold you up.
Dolled up in the $600 dress they let you keep, purple with a bell like layered skirt that dipped low in the front you didn’t care of people were staring. Tall heels didn’t help but hell the $300 pair were yours for free and with bag and violin case in hand you finally checked into your hotel and promptly headed down again to hop onto a cab to meet up with Lee.
A tall blonde in platform boots reaching up to the thigh in a leather two piece with freckled shoulders you would know anywhere had the already gawking fellow stage actors drop their jaws more as you said, “Bitch..”
Turning with wide eyes and a minor pout Lee I hard sharply watching your crouch to get a better look at his boots and say, “Damn it all, if you didn’t have such big feet I would be stealing these when filming was through. Legs for days and they still make you taller. Selfish.”
Chuckling lowly he offered a hand to steady you as you rose again and turned to say, “Everybody, this is Jaqi.”
“The infamous girlfriend,” rippled around the room and in the sea of awed people who had caught your show and others who had seen bootleg copies of it filmed and shuffled around you were quickly honed in on by the director who added a minor non speaking role to your resume. Lee was timid on the dancing aspect but with you on site his confidence burst out and that cemented the tiny unasked favor to keep the young star calm through this harrowing role to debut in. A spot in the crowd at the shows and a flicker of a spot at a barbecue later you mingled and blended in causally.
All between your three hour stint at another set for filming and Lee’s stolen bouts of cuddling before you were off to England you were glad you made it to the proper plane on the right day to make it just on time.
.
School was amazing, just like a glove you melted back into it and soaked in all you could of what you had aches for at having to graduate from Julliard so soon. Yet the London Ballet was different. An hour train, both ways there and back with long rehearsals in a sea of women and men built far different than you hard didn’t come close. It was stunning how amateur they imagined you and how much harder they pressed you to become more like the others when you had surpassed a great deal in skill even on your first day.
All the same the title role got gifted to their perfect star and you graciously accepted your minor role allowing you to nap more once you weren’t needed any longer in the month long show. To then it was paying your dues until you’d fit the mold but to the people expecting so much more from you after hearing such heartwarming compliments on you those buying tickets let it be known they didn’t care they demanded more than a five minute blip for the ticket fees. And of course the press heaped on when they caught wind only adding to your lulling urge to keep up in this place.
Not even mentioning the friends of your grandparents who had far from subtly hinted on higher challenging role set for someone with your pedigree and training leading to your latest role.
.
“Woof.” You stated taking another bite of your revenge triple order of chips after the first show you had been put into one of the three main female lead roles as a compromise to the noise about your place in the company. “Pedigree, they actually said pedigree, I’m a dog now.”
Dean’s cousin smirked stating in a pinch of your cheek while Richard hid his smirk behind his pint raised for a sip, “And what a cute doggy you are.”
In the roll of your eyes and Dean said, “You didn’t even share the best part.”
“Ooh,” rippled around the table making Chris smirk as he sat beside his brother with a refill on his drink. “Just grow five inches, and I could be their lead all the time, that’s what he,” in a cocky shake of your head and careless swipe of your hand you mimicked the snooty accent of the casting director, “If you could just grow five inches that would be swell and we would not be in this mess.” After a disgusted grunt you said, “I can’t grow five inches, no clue how I would, magic beans or buttons I guess that do that.”
One of the guys smirked, “I can grow five inches,”
And his brother patted his back, “And your bird is so proud of you for that.”
After another bite finishing off the chip you mumbled over your packed cheek behind your raised hand, “Besides, I got hired because I’m this size. I can’t grow or I’d lose the job.”
Dean, “The dream job.”
Another teen smirked saying, “Yes the mystery job none of us can know of yet.”
In a faked whine his brother said, “I hope it comes out soon. The wait is killing me.”
You rolled your eyes and Dean said, “Lads, we shall have to be patient and simply watch our dear Bunny puff up until it explodes out of her.”
Richard chuckled asking, “Is it really that terrible dancing there?”
Lowly you sighed, “It’s not. I love it, it’s just the people in charge. And honestly, ballet is so different, from anything else. Theater, singing, playing the violin, even musical theater. It just,” you sighed again, “I just really hope this film goes well, because, I mean, ballet was never my end all be all career. It fucking hurts. All the time, and you have to look a certain way and act a certain way and then there’s the director expecting favor for their ‘gifted roles’ I love ballet, but I don’t think I can do another season here.”
Dean, “Well if you word it right you know your grandparents would hire you.”
“I know. And I do like it at the Bolshoi Company. They offered for after I graduate Oxford for a season. Even when they bring the team on tour of the States.”
Chris, “That sounds better, they would be family.”
“And it’s Bolshoi, not trying to be like Bolshoi. I can be as fucking short as I damn well please and as long as my ass gets up higher than the girls in line under me who gives a flying fuck.”
The men chuckled and raised their glasses making you giggle and lift yours to clink them together, Dean led them in saying, “Here, here.”
Richard, “Have you called your dad about it?”
You nodded after your sip, “He’s happy for me, says to do what makes me happy. Told Gramps when he called the other day, he thinks a season off would do me good. Gran is livid beyond words that I would be treated like this. And now they have this show to honor their careers in January they want me to be a part of. Whole company is insisting, apparently someone had been sending them the press on my career from New York, so, yay.”
Chris, “Not mad at you I hope,”
You shook your head after another sip, “No. they said the same about her when she came to the States as a teen visiting her mom, then she went back home and blew their critics away. Just pent up, stuff.. Plus she said something about a show coming up she wanted me to join them for.”
Dean, “Well we love you no matter what you choose to do.”
Your grin split wider in the nudge of an elbow from one of them making the men chuckle again as you ate another bite of your fish refusing to starve yourself to date the anorexia mongering men in charge of casting.
.
Richard smirked in tossing his shirt away after his ungrateful plop onto the bed making you smirk in his attempt at alluringly sweeping his hand over the bare spot beside him. In a giggle you climbed in beside him and melted into his offered kissing tug to lay you out against him. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
In a low hum he said, “I’m glad you’re finding what you’re comfortable with. I just wish I could have been around more to help you through it.”
“Ugh,” you scoffed making him chuckle deeply, “You have your play to prep for. Of which I am not missing opening night.”
“Don’t-,”
“Hey, I am not missing it for the world.”
“We only have two weeks left, I’d rather focus on-,”
After stealing a kiss you said, “I’d rather focus on you in those tights of yours,” making him smirk, “And those puffy shorts and that cinched shirt with all those buttons-,”
“So many buttons,” be murmured against your lips then claimed another kiss while he folded around you.
.
Inspiration. That was why you were here. A one night only show with most of the audience being the cast of an upcoming indie film ‘Billy Elliot’ formerly a play called Dancer now set to be captured for the big screen. And all centered around a boy and his growing love for Ballet and the struggles he faces fro it in a mining town in the 80’s.
The ending called for a rendition scene capturing him grown and performing in Swan Lake with a great amount of hard earned prestige and admiration from his fellow dancers. It would only be a snippet of the full show, and yet to prep the young cast and their assigned on screen relatives they would sit through the classic show of which the Bolshoi Ballet would be performing, all around you as Odette/Odile, the role that Sir Ian had put you on the map for. Press would be there and it would be recorded for the film to remind the cast of the performance and to be sold separately as well.
All the same between shows with the London company you had fit in two rehearsals with all of your company and the managing team watching you flow in effortlessly with their chosen cast all thrilled to see you again. On the big night you could hear the chatter outside of the few well known actors settled to the film waited for by the press to snap pictures as you moved past them with the dancers to get warmed up. Truly you could do the role in your sleep, and honestly you wished you had gotten more sleep but grumbling to yourself while another dancer stepped on your back helping to pop your hip while in full splits you pressed your forehead to your crossed hands hoping you wouldn’t have to dance another night with the throbbing bother.
A painful pop later and up you got hugging the dancer gratefully before moving on with her to help the male lead pop his back after his lingering stiffness from the long flight he was finally recovering from fully. Painted and feathered up with slippers laced you tapped your toes one at a time behind you testing the tips of the new slippers on their give while you waited for the cue to enter onto the stage for the opening curtain.
Hours of stolen pictures and the dazzling scene of ‘adult Billy’ leaping onto the stage in his feathered pant body painted glory later the curtains closed again at the final scene. A pause came then the applause erupted from even the most initially bored children who had sat through the show. The mixer after found you showered and with a smile wearing your expensive dress and heels. All round you speaking with others the cast mingled until a wide grin split across your face as Julie Waters walked up to you after you had finished speaking to a set of dancers who were leaving to get some sleep before their next flight.
“Hello,”
“Hello,” you replied.
“I was wondering if I might as you some questions?”
Anxiously you answered with a broken giggle, “Absolutely,” after a momentary clearing of your throat you said, “What’s on your mind?”
Your held grin and gentle nods egged her on in asking her full list broadening her view of the art form and how the studies are handled and how a teacher would actually handle courses. Though the more you shared with the after lesson regimens and show effects on you it took away the glamour of things easing her own version of a teacher who was nowhere as strict as those monitoring in prestigious ballet companies fitting more to the town it was set in.
The boys were the last to come up, with the girls all having been so eager but with Dean and your friends coming up to talk to you Jamie Bell, the young Billy, especially loved hearing how you and Dean had struggled into dance lessons at Oxford and you also in Julliard while working steady jobs. Emails were traded for questions to be answered as they would come up later. And somehow you had managed to wiggle your way under Richard’s arm in an unaccountable shower and change into one of his shirts while he slept in his briefs not even caring to pull anything else on after his day of rehearsals and your show after he insisted on attending.
.
More and more Richard seemed to be worried about how the time apart would go after the last time when Tiffany had found him in a night of weakness while September neared. But after sharing his own call with his agent where he had heard of casting for a certain Elven Prince he was laughed out of and nudged away from trying for he came home to share the news only to see you bite your lip and explode himself in excitement for you at finding out what role you had gotten. Even in not being able to join you on the filming of a lifetime he was thrilled you could experience it with your father and hoped to sneak out for a visit himself.
It was secured, once you had told your grandparents about the job to explain why you couldn’t fly out to Russia for a season at the company they leapt at the chance to help you feel more secure in your dream job even they were excited for you to have earned. A large patch of land with seven cottages sprawled in a ring across it, the smaller ones split into separate apartment suites all joined in a stone courtyard with a fire pit and outdoor cooking area meant for plenty of guests was where you would call home.
It all looked so picturesque and near to dream like you were almost certain the pictures were a lie and you would walk into a raccoon’s nest without a roof and only half the walls and a giant wasps nest in the chimney. Honestly that would help to ease you into the role, if something outside the job was wrong so you couldn’t mess it up. If anything else went wrong then you had an amazing chance of this working out perfectly for you. Wine and dining was your final goodbye on the weekend after your final classes you bit your lip and entered the airport gate Chris had dropped you at with a tight hug Richard couldn’t give while warming up for the second night of his play.
24 hours including boarding time you were to be stuck on this plane and once again you poured through your tolkien collection well worn with taped spines and a shoddy glue job on a few of the pages coming apart at the seams with notes scattered throughout widening your smile. Richard’s play had gone wonderfully and you couldn’t help but keep smiling all through it even if he wasn’t the lead. You could almost see his future self leading an ensemble of his own when companies would have more faith in his name to draw in ticket sales and you’d be lying if you didn’t want to miss all the days in between his shoot to stardom. It hurt not having him here but all the more it was perfect to have your dad here, just a matter of weeks now and he would be joining you.
.
It was annoying how early you had shown up, that was your impression, but a check in call after having to adjust the date of training camp on the original date you had arrived not wanting to risk a fee to shift the date. Two full weeks you were early and outside the gate Peter and Fran chuckled helping you load your bag into the open trunk and guide you into the backseat beside their two children.
Chuckling to himself Peter stated, “For all the eagerness in the world I for one am glad you arrived early. Now we can give you the full tour. The workshops, our model scales and also through camp we can show you some of the locations we’ve scoped out for certain cities and traveling shots you would love. But first, I think we should take you for some food. There’s a great place by the studio lot, and we can help you stock up on some grub after, the house you mentioned it is furnished?”
“Gran said it would be. If not it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept on the floor.”
Fran, “You aren’t sleeping on any floor. If it isn’t we are taking you home with us until it can be furnished.”
“I couldn’t-,”
Peter, “Can and will. Your first time in New Zealand you need some family to show you round and keep an eye out through camp, I know your dad will surely appreciate us treating you like the family you are.”
That made you smile wider and while Fran asked you on if you had brushed up on Tolkien your books were brought up and even out for the lunch in the small eatery they had brought you to. A small hole in the wall with ample space on the booth table for you to show them plenty of your notes, all of which were consulted again when you were shown through the workshops stirring more and more elated squeaks from you.
And it truly was perfect, two story log and stone cabin style home with an amazing view stunning Peter as well who said, “The other cottages are yours as well?”
“Ya, they said it was the only one with enough space. Though what I need twenty five acres for I have no clue. It’s not far, guess I could find a bike shop for some wheels.”
Peter, “Well if you’re up for renting I know a few of the younger guys had said they were finding trouble locating rentals.”
“Sure, long as they don’t eat the pipes and such,” making him chuckle as you let out a weak giggle, “We could have a sort of Tolkien campground out here.”
Peter, “Exactly, nice and private and we could send out vans for you all to make it easier. I’ll make some calls. I know Ian and Sean would love the peace and views especially.”
Fran gave you a smile as you led the way into the largest cottage to bring in the food to fill the fridge and cabinets in the cozily furnished home in which Peter set down your bag and his wife said, “Now, tomorrow at seven sharp we’ll take you in for all the molds and final measurements and we can get you started on the weapons and movement training.”
Peter, “No worries our other size doubles are here early as well.”
And that was it, you were in new Zealand. Cocoa in hand you welcomed your first sunset and tried to sleep on your chosen bed, the second largest, as the room with two King beds pushed together clearly was your dad’s. You had your own bathroom and somehow the texts and emails off to friends and family had calmed you down enough to sleep.
.
Molds were first, with hair braided back your whole face was coated in blue goop you tried to remain as un giggly as possible until it was peeled off. Face, neck, ears, hands and even your feet were molded with every inch measured easing the varied sketches of the fifty possible characters you could play in varied locations to be joined by a great number of the crew when casting extras had run thin for certain locations. Sweats and a tank top were your go to with new converse nearly worn through by your second week of physical training where everyone could see just how toned you had made certain to build yourself up to ensuring you could survive the filming.
Straight from the airport exhausted actors in vans were unloaded for their tours while you worked with a few of the stunt doubles on a complicated fight scene in varied actor’s places. Eyes landed on you and familiar low chuckles had your final sword swing planting faked into the chest of a goblin before your head turned from the chuckling stunt actor and you smirked in your stroll over to Ian already walking out to greet you. A tight hug later and one by one each actor beginning with the Hobbits were introduced to you noting your spreading grin, with Elijah being he widest.
Peter, “And for Frodo, Elijah Wood. I take it you’re a fan?”
In a giggle at his weak chuckle looking you over you replied, “Oh I have a friend that will die hearing I get to work with you.” Subtle squeaks came out in introducing Sean, David and Hugo. John gave you a nod of his head, clearly uninformed of your role just yet and at the wide eyed brunette beside him you said, “Hey Orlando,”
Peter, “You know each other?”
“Oh ya, year or so now,” you looked to Orlando again, “Let me guess, Legolas?”
After clearing his throat he nodded, “Yes,”
Curiously between you Stuart Townsend looked you over in his own introduction as Aragorn before he asked, “So, who are you playing?”
Peter laughed saying, “Haven’t named all her roles yet, for now, it’s a surprise.” Making you giggle again and head back to rehearsals.
Changed into workout clothes the men started on their own movement courses while you continued with Peter and the stunt men finalizing the fight scenes to train the men on later the guys kept stealing glimpses of. Lunch however freed you up for a chance to possibly meet with John again only to turn around and grin seeing Orlando with another quick grin. “Hi,”
Giggling you replied, “Hi.”
“Listen, I, um, meant to call…”
With a nod you teased, “You mean after we made out in the theater for hours and you promised you would?” at his nip at his lip you nudged his arm, “Hey, water under the bridge. You’ll be seeing a lot me, near daily I bet, I would love to be friends. Certainly would help things.”
“Yes it would.” Anxiously he wet his lips, “So who are you playing?”
Widening your grin you said, “You’re just going to have to wait and see there pointy eared princeling.” Winking at him in your path around him making his eyes narrow a moment in watching you trot over to John beside Peter, the pair of whom were already talking about you. That was the beginning of a timid friendship, to your charms he certainly had fallen with Ian and Peter smoothing the way and by dinner at your home the guys all excitedly inspected and accepted a suite at you had all gathered around the fire pit Peter helped to teach you how to use it and the outdoor kitchen properly. That first dinner began it all and friendships started to brew up with the puzzling female in their midst making all but the amused John wonder just what role in the testosterone packed film could be taking.
All the same the men in archery, swordsmanship and movement came between your cherished horseback lessons enabling you to bond with the steeds you would be working with through the films. The more you got into training camp it became obvious something wasn’t fitting, as talented as he was the actor for Aragorn had to be older. A few minor traveling scenes had been filmed with no dialog at all and the 87 year old future King had to be recast. Visiting Peter on your day off you were privy to the table of headshots and resumes, a single ‘ooh’ from you and with a smirk Peter and Fran felt their own personal preference confirmed and the calls were made.
Within two days the new hire was on the ground and curiously looking you over beside Peter and Fran when you went to pick him up from the airport. An excited ‘hi’ later and he was wrangled up as you had been and invited to the dinner that night at your campground for the cast he loved at once. Ample space for himself and his son when he could be brought out for a visit while being close to the main cast. Still he was curious why you were in your own house alone until Fran had mentioned your dad was coming to film as well in a couple weeks.
Instantly in your aiding him through catching up on the history and any physical training he would need freshening up on a solid bond was formed and by the third day he had fully taken you on as a baby sister assigning himself to look after you until your dad got there. But nothing was funnier than hearing how you and Orlando had known one another explaining why he was still so awkward around you.
Though the final week of training camp when you should have been getting word from your dad on his arrival your stomach couldn’t seem to unclench and an odd day of silence from you came after headlines of an oil rig hit by a terrible storm. Again you had to take a moment off in the hall to calm yourself down after another hour had passed without word. Silently Peter kept hold of your phone you didn’t want to leave alone allowing you to pull yourself together, glad you weren’t alone but still hating that you had refused to take the day off at the news. His eyes rose when Viggo slipped away from a stunt rehearsal to ask, “Something’s wrong with Jaqi?”
Inhaling sharply the Director answered lowly, “That oil rig on the news,” Viggo nodded with curiously furrowed brows, “Her dad was on it.” He lifted her phone, “Hopefully he’ll send word soon they got out safe. Swears she just needs a moment. I tried to get her to stay home.”
Viggo, “She’s certain it’s his rig?” Peter nodded and nipping at his lip the actor went back to his scene seeing you inhaling sharply in a trot back up onto the cushioned platform the guys were on, only now having a hint that you would be doubling for John at your ax you had been rehearsing with for the past few days. Pink eyed you nodded to the stunt men readying to go again lulling the men back to regretful silence wondering what was going on until two hours later at lunch your phone rang and Peter called you over taking you into a side room.
Against the wall you slid down in tears talking to your uncle who had spent the night having your dad flown out to Texas to be seen at a hospital there. Still in scans to see what was wrong with his burned and swollen arm he swore he would call again before he would head back to their house to pack the rest of his things from the house there added to his bags he had loaded onto the escape ships when the rig caught fire to fly out to you. Information through Fran was traded to confirm the flight number and times before you were given the phone to sniffle your way through hearing your dad fresh back from a scan saying he had a minor arm sprain he had to be given a brace for and mild burns on his arm. Fully able and willing to just get to you after his days of hell in the middle of the ocean. Tightly in Peter’s arms you were held until you calmed fully and wiped your cheeks to join the others for lunch where the reason for your tears had bubbled out leaving all the men eager to spread the love and eagerness to welcome your dad as well.
Pt 20
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1x16: Shadow
Previously on Supernatural:
Sam and Dean are hard at work looking for their dad.
Now:
Down an empty city street, a lone woman walks into a dark, foggy alley. A sudden wind storm sweeps through the area and shadows dance across building walls. The woman starts running (and like, seriously, I don’t care how late at night this is, there’s no one else around??) and makes it back to her apartment, sets the alarm and locks the door. Whew, she’s safe, or at least that’s what the music is telling me. She then plays messages on her ANSWERING MACHINE. Lol, sometimes I laugh at how old this show is.
Anyway, a shadow creeps along the wall and SPLAT, we have a cold open victim after all.
One Week Later
Sam and Dean, professional cosplayers, are dressed as alarm system employees today. Dean is a tad incredulous they have to play dress-up (but secretly LOVES it, let’s admit it.)
He ribs Sam a little bit about a play he did in high school (Dean’s such a supportive brother to go watch that. Poor Sam can’t act himself out of an alternate universe where he IS an actor.) They enter the victim’s apartment. The landlord tells them their company sucks. The windows were locked, the door was bolted, and the alarm system was still on. Hmm. Everything was in order, but Meredith. She was in pieces all over the floor.
The brothers start looking around the apartment. Dean previously spoke with the police (and ofc he’d hit it off with a Sagittarius) and reveals that the victim was missing her heart. They speculate about what they’re dealing with until Dean sees a pattern in the blood splatter on the floor (My sweet, smart son). He starts laying tape to form the pattern. It forms a symbol that neither brother recognizes.
Later, at a bar, Dean is busy talking up the bartender when Sam wanders in with notes from the case. Dean checks in, and normally at this stage in the game I am eye-rolling hard at overcompensating Dean, but he is SO proud about getting the bartender’s number. (Like, why Dean? You’re an A+ charmer and you look like Jensen Ackles.)
Honestly, though, Dean was doing the job. He gathered a heck of a lot of info on Meredith. They have another victim but there doesn’t appear to be a connection, except with how they died.
Suddenly, Sam takes off. He finds his old travel buddy, Meg. WHAT A CRAZY COINCIDENCE. (Also, <insert old WB joke here>) She yells at Dean for making Sam do things he doesn’t want to do. Look at Dean’s face when he looks at Sam! Guh. Then he pulls the classic Dean move and makes light of the comment and walks away to get a beer. AND then he looks back at Sam again as he’s walking away. This gives Sam and Meg some time to talk and Sam gets her digits.
Later, when Sam and Dean are leaving the bar, Dean asks about Meg. Sam doesn’t really know her and finds it weird to have run into her again. Dean wants to know more about the shit talk Sam was spreading about him but Sam is trying to talk about how weird it is to run into Meg again. He tasks Dean with learning more about Meg Masters and the symbol at the victim’s apartment. Sam is going to watch Meg, and Dean finds this infinitely funny.
Later, Dean calls Sam, who’s outside Meg’s apartment, to tell him that she checks out. He encourages Sam to ask her out. And at the end of the day, I can’t help but love Dean’s way of helping Sam. Maybe it’s not the most understanding but he really wants to help Sam move on and heal. Anyway, he also learned about the symbol. It’s a Zoroastrian demon sigil. Sam wonders how Dean learned all this, and Dean makes it clear that HE READS TOO.
For Science:
But Dean realizes that he’s not performing enough and tells Sam that he asked a friend of John’s. All the same, Dean says that from the info he (NOT CALEB) gathered, the demon has to be summoned and that means someone is controlling it. Anyway, Dean gets gross and Sam hangs up on him. Then Sam gets gross and watches Meg change through her window.
Meg leaves her apartment and Sam follows her to an old warehouse. Once inside, he finds that she’s set up a nice little summoning altar. She talks to someone/thing in a chalice. She’ll await their arrival.
Sam sneaks out of the elevator shaft he was hiding in. He sees the altar and is literally like, “What the hell?”
“Dude, I gotta talk to you,” is how these two giant nerds simultaneously greet each other back at the hotel.
Sam fills Dean in on Meg. She’s the one who’s been summoning the daeva. Dean reveals his own new intel. His police contact got him the victims’ files: they’re both originally from Lawrence, Kansas. Dean calls their dad and tells them they might be close to the thing that killed their mom. (“That’s where everything started.” Crying noise. Crying noise.) Before they head out to the warehouse, Sam dumps a big bag of weapons on the bed.
Sam is like me packing for a trip at 2 a.m. Uh, idk, maybe I’ll need this? Better pack it just in case. Holy water, ritual books, and just about every weapon he can think of. “I’m not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything?” I feel you, Sammy.
Then the boys talk about how NOT nervous they are - how totally chill they feel about possibly confronting the thing that killed their mom. If they succeed, Sam would go back to school. Dean, though? He’s in the life for good. “There’s always gonna be somethin’ to hunt.” Sam asks Dean if there’s anything he wants for himself (crying intensifies) and Dean bursts out that he doesn’t want Sam to bail on him again. “You and me and dad. I want us to be together again.” Oh, Dean Bean.
On that fun note, let’s go kick some ass! Sam and Dean climb back up the warehouse elevator shaft. Meg stands on one side of the room facing a wall and muttering incantations (as one does). They creep into the room while she chants and take up defensive positions. Without even turning around, she calls them out. “Hiding’s a bit childish, don’t you think?” (Meg, the proper word to tell them to stop hiding is olly-olly-oxen-free.) She tells them that she was waiting for them. It WAS a trap! She commands the daeva to attack.
The daeva slices the hell out of Sam’s face and hurls the boys across the room, knocking them out. They wake up a little while later, trussed up to beams.
Sam tries to unravel why Meg targeted the two victims. It turns out their deaths were meaningless; killing people from Lawrence was simply bait for her Winchester trap. Dean tries to cut through the villain monologue and find out why they’re still alive, but Meg tells him that the trap she set isn’t for them…it’s for their dad. “He has one weakness,” Meg says. “He lets his guard down around his boys. Lets his emotions cloud his judgment.” BOOM. Cue the feelings.
Meg lets her snarky demon flag fly around Sam. She taunts him about watching her, wanting her. Meg starts to kiss Sam (gross gross yuck gross) until she hears a snick of a blade as Dean tries to break free. She tosses away Dean’s knife and goes back to Sam, who head butts her, revealing his own released hands.
On Dean’s direction, Sam topples the altar, freeing the daeva. The daeva goes after Meg, dragging her to the window and tossing her to the ground below.
Back at their hotel, they open the door to find a mysterious shadow. It’s their dad! It’s Hugchester time.
Dean apologizes for not spotting the trap and John tells them that a) he knew it was a trap so no worries and b) he was in town as well. HEY John, thanks for warning your kids. John reveals that he’s working on a way to kill the yellow-eyed demon for good. But he’s (tosses hair back dramatically) got to do it ALONE.
It’s Hugchester time AGAIN, when suddenly John gets hurled across the room. The daeva’s back in Daeva’s Revenge: Part Two: The Wreckoning. The daeva proceeds to wreck the hotel room, and toss Dean and Sam around as well. Outside, Meg approaches with a daeva sigil necklace. It’s looking bad for our heroes, when Sam lights a flare to chase away the shadows (including the daeva).
They all stumble from the room, bruised and bloodied, and make their way to the Impala.
They’re about to head out together when Dean tells them that John can’t go with them. Meg was right - John’s vulnerable when he’s around his sons. Sam begs John not to leave but John’s already got both feet out the proverbial door. They give each other the worst sort of goodbye hug - a manly pat on the shoulder, and then John takes off in his truck.
Meg watches them leave town. It’s not over, boys. Not by a long shot.
________________________________
Only the Shadow Quotes:
You think credit card fraud is easy?
I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what’s-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar.
Maybe you’re thinkin’ a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?
What’s the significance of Lawrence?
What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I’d sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again.
Things will never be the way they were before.
Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He’s stronger without us around.
Alright, you little pervert
You don’t have the corner on paper chasing around here.
________________________________
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#spn recap#spn rewatch#spn 1x16#shadow#dean winchester#sam winchester#meg masters#john winchester#supernatural season 1
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so in love with simple things (branjie) - holtzmanns
A late night snack excursion and running through the summer rain like nothing else matters, not really.
AN: Did I write this instead of applying for jobs like I should be doing? Yes. I regret nothing. For writ, who wanted some softness and instead got whatever this is. Thank you bean for betaing and being the best. Title from ‘Free Spirit’ by Khalid.
Vanessa’s sure that the grin on Brooke’s face, the one all spread across his features and crinkling at his eyes when he opens the door mirrors the one on his own.
“Hey,” Brooke says.
“Hey yourself.”
“What brings you here?” Brooke leans against the doorway, clad in sweats like every other single day on the road. At least he fucking bought a new pair - Vanessa had been ready to do it himself if Brooke hadn’t.
Vanessa shrugs at his question. “I’m hungry.”
He’s not that hungry. He just needs an excuse to spend time with him.
Brooke sees right through it, by the glint in his eye. Doesn’t care, apparently, as he grabs his wallet from the hotel room bedside table. Ignores the clock that reads 2:42 am.
“Snack run?”
“Now that’s what I’m talking about, bitch.”
It’s like they can read each other’s minds. Would this be considered a Nicholas Sparks movie moment? Probably not. But still. It’s nice.
Their hands brush each others’ as easy as breathing. It shouldn’t feel so natural, so simple, the way Brooke’s hand squeezes his as they cross at an empty intersection.
It’s like no time has passed at all.
Except that it has.
That’s for Vanessa to turn over in his mind another day. Not tonight, when they’re in a dingy 24-hour convenience store and grabbing stupidly sugary snacks that will definitely give both of them a headache.
Tour feels strangely easy, strangely right. Vanessa had thought that they’d be doing an intricate dance around each other the entire time, avoiding the feelings and pain and longing and fucking pining that he knows he’s been experiencing, at least.
But they’ve never been that way. Not ever.
Not after they first broke up, when they ended up back in each other’s beds after only a week. Not after their season premiered, when rare nights in hotel rooms felt like heaven. Not after the reunion, with their baggage and their hearts ripped clean open for the world to see, to comment on. Not when they sought comfort in each other, the only other person who could understand.
So, it makes sense. Touring and ending up beside each other on the bus, borrowing eyeshadow palettes and wigs and jewelry in the dressing room to wear a piece of the other. Hamming it up on stage for the screaming fans and laughing along because it’s a joke; it’s their schtick. Or so they let everyone think.
Vanessa looks at him when he thinks he’s not paying attention and sometimes he swears that he catches Brooke glimpsing his way, too.
He lets out a grunt while attempting to balance the bags in his grip as they walk back, filled with pop and chips and candy and all the shit that neither of them should be eating. Hell, they can pass it off to Silky and A’keria. It don’t matter. He looks up at Brooke, whose arms are similarly full. He’s already cracked open a Red Bull, and the bob of his Adam’s apple when he takes a sip is enough to make Vanessa want to look away.
The obnoxious neon glow of the hotel sign is visible from blocks away as they walk, a beacon that’s pulling them not only back to tour, but back to each other. It crackles under the dark sky, illuminating the street in purples and pinks as it blinks on and off, the bulbs from the 90s that sit inside close to burning out, never to be fixed again.
The only thing that shines brighter is the tendril of lightning that illuminates the sky, the crack of thunder following loud enough to make both of them jump, look at each other.
“We didn’t bring an umb-”
The rain falls hard and fast. “Shit!”
Vanessa’s yell makes Brooke cackle, grab onto his hand in response and tug on his arm, breaking into a run. Vanessa’s about to drop the bags but he doesn’t care, not when their shoes are soaked and their hair is wet and their clothes are sticking to their bodies like they just fucking rode Splash Mountain, cause it’s so much fun. It’s like he’s twelve again, when he ran home from the bus stop without the raincoat or umbrella that his ma has yelled to take with him that same morning.
Who needs protection from the rain, anyway? Not gonna kill you. Not like other things can.
He’s always loved it. Tampa’s humid as hell, the stuffiness of the air all heavy and moist but not quite refreshing. The occasional rain had always felt like a fucking cleanse back then, more so than showers ever did.
And now, as they reach the hotel in breathless laughter and shaky hands that can’t quite open the side door of the building with their keycards, he feels clean.
Brooke’s room comes before his, in the hallway. 407. His 412 lies ten steps farther, three doors down and on the other wall, facing Brooke’s. It feels ten steps too far.
Brooke pushes the key card into the door, gets the green light. Opens it. Doesn’t go in.
He turns towards Vanessa, instead, when the blast of air conditioner sends shivers through both of their bodies. Their soaked clothing now feels heavy, like cold sheets of ice that burn the skin.
“We can eat some of this stuff together?” Brooke phrases it like a question as he lifts a bag up, the tentativeness a contrast from him in the daytime. All self assured and unbothered and shit.
Vanessa feels the smile on his face. It’s obnoxious, really, the way Brooke’s strange quirks are so fucking endearing. At least, to him. No one else ever seems affected.
“Yeah sure, why not.” As if he wasn’t jumping on saying yes in the first place.
So Brooke holds the door open for Vanessa and he ducks under his arm as he enters, dropping the bags on the table. Brooke shakes out his soaking wet curls the way that Vanessa’s dog does, droplets peppering nearby surfaces. He then tugs off his shirt with complete disregard for Vanessa’s feelings, really, not noticing the way that Vanessa can’t keep his eyes from roaming along the ripple of his back muscles as he tosses the shirt on top of one of his suitcases.
Or maybe he does notice. Maybe he’s doing it on purpose.
Vanessa’s always been too weak to resist a response.
Brooke still has his sweatpants on when he turns to Vanessa, head cocked sideways just a little bit as he stands in the bathroom door. “You don’t want to stay all soaking from the rain, do you?”
“What are you playing at?” He’s gonna make Brooke spell it out. Doesn’t wanna assume shit the way he always does.
Brooke turns on the shower in response, looks at him with those stupid blue eyes as the bathroom mirror starts to steam up.
Oh, what the hell. Why not. It’s already almost three. Might as well get no sleep at all.
So he tugs off his shirt too, catches the way Brooke’s eyes linger.
Nice to know it’s not just him.
Well, he knows. But he needs the reassurance sometimes. That it’s not one sided.
From the way that Brooke tugs on his pants, his boxers, pulls him into the cramped shower, it can’t be.
Brooke dots his back with kisses in the shower, nips which will make his skin bloom into constellations by the next morning. He doesn’t have it in him right now to stop it from happening. Brooke is warm and thaws Vanessa from the inside out when he leans his head forward for a second, resting it on Vanessa’s shoulder.
Brooke tugs the shampoo bottle out of Vanessa’s hand when he goes to grab it, instead opening it himself and lathering up a bit in his hands. Vanessa can’t help but let out a noise when Brooke massages his scalp, fingers in soft circles through his hair that make him close his eyes and lean into the touch.
Vanessa grabs the bottle again when it’s his turn, building up bubbles in his hands but then Brooke is too fucking tall, he can’t reach. Skyscraper. He can’t help but pout when Brooke lets out a laugh, especially when going on his tiptoes doesn’t make him tall enough to reach the top of his hair either.
Brooke takes pity on him, leans against the wall and crouches down. Much better.
Brooke’s curls have darkened under the water, all weighed down and flopping on his forehead. Vanessa brushes them away from his eyes, watches Brooke let out a little hum as the bubbles roll down his shoulders, down his body, down the drain.
They have nights where they don’t talk, can’t talk about it. Where the only way they can get their messages across to each other is through quick fucks and bruising touches that leave ghostly imprints on their skin that they try and ignore in the morning. Those nights always leave Vanessa feeling worse off, trying to grasp at something that he feels is slipping out of his fingers, disappearing fast. He pushes extra hard during the performances that follow such nights, letting the resulting sore muscles and gasps for breath distract him, make him aware of sensations other than the one in his heart that won’t stop thinking about Brooke.
This night feels different. Maybe it’s because it’s nearly 4 am (thank fuck they don’t have a show the next day, nowhere to be, no call time) and they’re both holding back yawns while they dry off, but when they’re done and Brooke gestures to his bed, Vanessa follows.
Neither of them stay the night, most of the time. It’s easier that way, helps to separate the satisfaction of their physical needs from the cracks in their hearts that so desperately want to be fixed. But climbing into Brooke’s bed, curling into his side when an arm is wrapped around his torso feels so fucking easy, snacks long forgotten on the table. Makes him wonder why they haven’t been doing it the whole time, broken hearts be damned.
Vanessa feels the rise and fall of Brooke’s chest underneath his fingers, the way that it grows deeper with every breath. It matches his own, the synchronicity making it feel like they’re on the same wavelength, for once.
It feels right. Like where they should have been the whole time.
He’s not sure if he’s dreaming when he feels the ghost of a kiss brush against the top of his head - could be his own mind making things up, not that he’d admit how much he wants it to be real. But then Brooke’s arm around him squeezes his side gently, pulls him in closer until they’re both defrosting the icicles that have been lanced through both of their chests.
Maybe it’s the late time (fucking crack of dawn), the exhaustion from travelling between cities and not staying long enough to remember their names. But falling asleep with Brooke’s arm around him, legs slotted between his like gears that fit together perfectly makes his heart calm down, feel safe. Feel appreciated.
Feel loved.
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#branjie#s11 tour#canon compliant#fluff#not really angst#holtzmanns
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Moving Out
(YAY, my first fic! I tried my best and honestly, I think it turned out pretty good. So basically, when I see fics involving Borrowers leaving, I haven’t seen a single fic describe exactly what a Borrower does when they move to a different location. I don’t wanna take up most of your time reading my thoughts, so I’ll continue my little drabble in the tags. Enjoy!)
Your stubborn mind had finally decided that it was too unsafe to stay in the human’s house any longer. Actually, you were surprised you had managed to stay alive for this long. You had been seen almost a week ago, after all.
It all began when you were out on a borrowing session. It was just a regular Thursday night, which meant the human had gone to bed early, leaving the whole house to yourself for at least a couple of hours.
So far it had been going pretty well, since you managed to snag a whole packet of salt crackers. A whole packet of those things would barely be filling to a human, but for you? One cracker alone would be a whole meal! And even better, you didn’t have to worry about the human noticing, because they only touched plain snacks like this when there was absolutely nothing else available.
You were in the process of getting a paper towel (it worked wonders for spills, dirty dishes, messes in general, or if needed, cleaning up blood) then, and the moments that followed were clear in your mind: At long last, you managed to rip off the paper towel, and were well on your way home, thoughts of another successful borrowing in your head.
You would’ve been fine had the human bean not come downstairs for a glass of water. The two of you made eye contact for a full second before your mind screamed for you to book it.
Your legs moved as if they had a mind of their own, and everything felt like they were nothing but a blur as you ran. You finally, finally disappear from view after jumping down the space between the refrigerator and the wall. This all happened in the span of about five seconds.
The first thing you did wasn’t panicking. You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and your hands released themselves from their viselike grip on your pack.
Your heart pounding behind the fridge, a million scenarios begin playing out in your head. Stuck in a jar, exterminated, or caught in a mouse trap, the possibilities were endless. But either you were always somewhat optimistic, or your mind was in a crazy state of denial that you were seen. Maybe the human bean would pass it off as a result of interrupted sleep (they had gotten up at an ungodly hour in human standards, after all) or something like that. Trick of the light, hallucinations, anything but actually being seen! But then again, they didn’t do anything to capture you, so you figured it was still somewhat safe, as long as you took more care in staying hidden.
But it definitely didn’t seem like it was safe now. Too conveniently placed pieces of cereal or bread on a napkin proved it. So did when human’s free time seemed to fall right on your usual borrowing hours on weekends. And just yesterday, you had a too-close call right where you had been seen that fateful night. They were desperate to get you.
This was bad. This was really, truly, definitely bad. If you stayed any longer, you’d most definitely be seen again sooner or later, your existence confirmed, and snap crackle pop, just like that, your days as a Borrower are over, for better or (more likely) worse. You had to leave.
But how?
This was something you had never had to do before. Your parents (rest their souls) never brought the subject up, in fear of jinxing all of your lives. So what did Borrowers have to do to make it seem like they’ve never been there?
You had to get rid of the furniture. That much was obvious. Most of your morning was spent breaking makeshift chairs in half, scattering your fabric pile (which was your sorry excuse for a bed), and the general disposing of evrything you couldn’t bring, that could give the human any hint of suspicion, like beads or “lost” playing cards, be it by tossing it out a window or returning it somewhere inconspicuous, so that they’d find it the next time they spring cleaned. By the time you were finished, you were tired and sweating despite the chilling December air, your lovely hideaway now resembling a mouse’s nest.
Next came the packing. Much to your disappointment, you had spent the last of your rations five minutes after demolishing your formerly cozy abode, meaning you wouldn’t have any food for the long trip to a new life, unless you got some on the way out. On the bright side, you didn’t have to bring as much stuff... but what stuff did you need to pack?
So you’d bring your grapple, of course, can’t go without that, and... of course you’d need your clothes and personal belongings, in the bag that goes... maybe it wouldn’t hurt to bring the “broken” pocket watch the human tossed out (it was really just out of batteries, how’d they not notice?!) and oh! The thimbles and bottle caps for cooking and eating, matches were a problem for another day, and... the broken scissors. For defense. And... that was it? Wow, you expected to bring much more. Well, the lesser the better, you figured.
And, taking one final glance at what you would be leaving behind, you exited your home for the last time.
You figured it was around three in the afternoon, because the human still hadn’t come back from work. Which was good. You needed all the time you could get. Your planned escape route was up on the counter, scale the wall, and out the kitchen window you’d go. The human always kept that window open a bit while they were at work.
Climbing the hand-and-footholds you had carved into the wooden back of the counter would be a challenge with your pack. But somehow, you manage to make it up with only three available limbs. You throw your pack of belongings onto the counter before hoisting yourself up. That took a little more energy than you expected, you think as you catch your breath. You decide it’s best if you tie your pack to your grapple if you want to save energy. Next would be to toss your curtain hook-and-thread equipment onto the windowsill, so you could climb.
After making it to the top, you pull your luggage up. Yeah, much easier this way. The last obstacle in your way was the window. You look outside, at the world so much bigger than anything you’d ever seen.
Out there were more dangers, more humans... maybe... maybe even more Borrowers like you.
It was a chance at a new beginning.
The feeling was... you don’t know how to describe it. Was it nervousness? Excitement? Or fear of the unknown? You were leaving behind everything you knew, after all. But you didn’t have much of a choice now, did you? It was a unspoken rule of people like you: If the humans know, you have to go.
Well, you couldn’t stay contemplating your desicion for the rest of the afternoon. The human bean would be home soon. With a final look at the place that had been your home, you push open the window and let yourself be introduced to the outdoor world.
#g/t#alright where was i#so I know that moving took up like a fourth of Arietty#but then the Clock’s house was partially destroyed by Haru if I remember correctly#so yeah#I might continue this#the lily writes
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Not A Murderer
Warnings: none that I know of but if I missed one let me know please
~
The room was dark and the sun had set what felt like hours ago, but Buttons hardly noticed. The rest of his family was on a small vacation, and he had the whole house to himself. So what did he do? He sat on one of the two bean bags in his room, and watched Buzzfeed Unsolved all day. A blanket was thrown over his shoulders and snacks and a few bottles of water were sitting by the bean bag.
Something hit his window and Buttons jumped, pausing the video and looking out into the darkness. He just realized how late it was. Maybe somewhere around twelve or one am. That didn’t exactly calm him down. What hit his window? A ghost? Was someone coming to try to kill him? Oh god, he sure hoped not.
He fumbled around in the dark, searching for his phone. It was laying on his bed, fully charged and kinda cold from the cool fall air. Buttons grabbed it and quickly unlocked it, dialing the first person he could think of.
“Buttons? What’re you doin up?” Elmer asked, his voice hoarse and groggy.
“Look, I know it’s late but I’ve been watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and… can you come over? Please?” Buttons really didn’t want to bother Elmer, but he didn’t want to be alone, and he just so happened to like Elmer better than his other friends.
There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then Buttons could hear the sound of a blanket being pushed to the ground. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Elmer yawned, “keep yourself sane until I get there.” Buttons thanked him and ended the call, pacing around his room. The house creaked as it settled, the sound of the dryer scared him, and he refused to see what hit his window.
Something else hit his window, and Buttons jumped backwards, stumbling into the door. He couldn’t see what it was, and he never planned on seeing it. He just didn’t want to get murdered.
When something else hit his window, and created and loud bang, he pushed the door open and ran downstairs, flipping on the lights as he ran. The living room was dark, the hall was dark, and the kitchen was dark. Well, not anymore. Buttons turned the lights on. He jumped on the couch, grabbed a blanket, and covered himself up so he couldn’t see anything. Which made things better, but at the same time worse.
He shut his eyes tight when there was a knock on the door. The door gently swung open, quietly hitting the wall. Buttons tried to ignore the person who walked up to the couch. But when the blanket flew off of him, he screamed. Someone grabbed his wrists and started shushing him. After a moment or so of wiggling, he realized it was just Elmer.
“Dude, it’s ok, it’s me,” Elmer sat next to Buttons on the couch. He grabbed Buttons’ hand and gently squeezed.
“Thanks, sorry,” Buttons sighed, dropping his head into his free hand.
Elmer yawned, “it’s fine. Can we go to bed please?” Buttons nodded and pulled a sleepy Elmer off the couch. The two headed up the stairs to Buttons’ room. It was still dark, and kinda creepy. Elmer immediately face planted on Buttons’ bed. The two of them got comfy, chatting about their day and a few things that happened between their friends. Buttons was almost asleep when something else hit his window.
Elmer sighed and got up, walking over to the window and opening it. Leaning out of the window a bit, he grabbed something off the window sill.
“It’s an acorn,” he yawned, tossing it at Buttons. Buttons caught it and threw it back. “Looks like a squirrel decided to use your window for target practice.”
“Did he have to use it when I was watching the Keddie cabin murders episode though?” Buttons asked, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Whatever, didn’t make being home alone any less terrifying. I thought I was gonna get murdered when you walked in.”
Elmer laughed and climbed over Buttons, wrapping his arm around the other boys waist, “well, it’s a good thing I’m not a murderer then.”
“Well, you could be,” Buttons rolled over to face Elmer, yawning. “Hopefully you’re not.”
“Why not?” Elmer asked, grinning. Buttons was clearly tired, and looked like he was about to pass out.
“You’re to cute to kill someone,” Buttons shrugged, playing with the hem of Elmer’s shirt. “And to cute to go to jail.” Elmer laughed.
“Goodnight, Buttons,” he said, grinning at Buttons.
“Night, Elmer,” the boy yawned.
~
@booksbroadwayandbagels
it's not a pairing I usually write
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Bound By Ink -- Chapter 34
Disclaimer: Fiction.
Warnings: Smut
Tagging: @hazeleyedleto @msroxyblog @letojokerownsme @miss-shannanigans @snewsome756 @maliciousalishious @nikkitasevoli@meghan12151977@sanellv@ambolton@bradlea23@spillinginkwithlove@alexis7215@dezmarz@pezziecoyote@whoistheprettiest@avaj99@iridescxntsolitude@pheenixpeterson@guccilowell@blondiefrommars@rowen1976@phoebehalliwell1984@thathipstaninja@darthjokerisyourfather@letsbemybatman @prettymisc@lylabell2013@mandyglam@pandaliciouz@just-me-obsessing@echelon-1969@carolinapb-me@marilyndioncre
Shannon’s POV
I was spending more and more time at Scarlett’s apartment as our connection continued to grow. I made dinner and after eating, Jayce plopped onto the bean bag on the floor while Scarlett and I cuddled on the couch. We let Jayce pick the movie and the only sounds in the apartment were coming from the TV for the next two hours.
Once it was over, he disappeared into his room to finish homework and I washed the dishes while she hopped up on the countertop to dry them. “You seem like you’re really enjoying this.” She stacked the plates and glasses next to her.
“What? Washing dishes?” I joked, crinkling my nose. I knew what she meant, but loved to pick with her.
“Shut up! You know what I’m talking about. You know, you will make a great father one day. You’re so patient and fair with Jayce and God Shannon, do you even know how rare that is? To find a guy who respects you and treats you like a princess, but is also good to another man’s child?” Her eyes met mine and I smiled.
And I did love Jayce. He was part of her, and who wouldn’t love him? He was so smart and talented and I loved how protective he was of his mom. It reminded me of how I felt about my mother. “Yeah, well, I can’t take all the credit, he’s polite and well mannered and if he hated me, he didn’t show it. I saw how protective he was of you at first, but he was still respectful, and not all kids in his situation would be.” I grinned, staring down at the glass in my hand. “I never really gave much thought to having children. All of my past relationships have been a disaster and that’s why I’m determined not to make the same mistakes with you.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job and you should have at least one child. The world needs more men like you. I mean, Mark is a good father and a good person, we just weren’t meant to be, but he’s good to Jayce.”
I turned the water off and pulled the towel from her hands, drying mine and nudging her to move so I could put the dishes into the cabinet myself. “What about you? Do you want more children?”
She blinked rapidly and began twisting her fingers in the neckline of her white RI T-shirt, like she was deep in thought. Chuckling, she furrowed her brow. “Wow, um, Jayce is fifteen and that’s kind of a big gap there, but.... I’d definitely be open to it if the opportunity presented itself.”
Tossing the towel on the countertop, I pulled her against my chest. “You never know what can happen. One day, not so long ago, I was single, and then I literally ran smack into the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She’s had me wrapped around her little finger ever since.” I gave her a wink.
“Okay, that was so sweet, but you suck at that. Just saying. No more winking, winkie.”
“I suck?” I asked, raising her T-shirt slightly and started to mercilessly tickle her sides. She tried to block me, but there’s no way, since I could hold both of her wrists in one hand. I leaned in laughing at her giggling wildly and twisting as she slid all the way to the floor. She managed to pull my cap off, but I still brushed my fingers along her soft skin.
Jayce drummed his fingers on the wall as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. We both froze and she glanced up, a few strands of blue hair falling into her face as her mouth dropped open. Jayce spoke in an authoritative voice. “I would appreciate it if you two could keep it down! I’m trying to do homework in there. Don’t make me come out here again!”
I pulled Scarlett’s hands, helping her up. “Alright dude, we will be quiet, I promise.”
“You better!” He narrowed his eyes and nodded with a huge grin. “Hey, I like being the boss.”
“Yeah? So, that’s why you and Jared get along great.” I teased him. “Goodnight man.”
He moved closer and bumped my fist before going back to his room. Turning off the light, I followed Scarlett to the bedroom. “You staying?” She asked and I quickly locked the bedroom door, pinning her to the wall behind it. The music from Jayce’s room wasn’t loud, but we could hear it from her bedroom and I knew that he could hear what was happening in her room too.
She stared at me, giving me a pleading look and I brushed my lips against hers. We had been together almost every day and I was loving it, but I wanted her so bad. Scarlett had been putting off the makeup sex for over a week now and I was starting to lose my mind. “Baby, Jayce is in the next room,” she reasoned.
“I know,” I whispered, making sure my wet lips still touched hers as I spoke. “Shhh.” My lips moved down her jaw and I pressed myself against her even harder. I wanted her to feel what being this close to her did to me. Without a word, I raised her left leg and moved it around my hip.
I sucked along her neck, trying to find that one spot that made her crazy. I could immediately tell when I found it because she let out a whimper. Biting down, I groaned as I felt her fingernails sink into my skin and she spoke in a hushed tone. “Shannon... don’t.”
I swiped my tongue over the indentation left by my teeth and let go of the leg I had been holding. Trailing my fingers along the waistband of her cute little shorts, I moved swiftly, covering her mouth with one hand and shoving the other directly down into her shorts and panties.
Her eyes widened and she glared at me, but made no move to stop me. The second my fingers slipped between her folds her eyes closed. I pumped my fingers a few times and released her, guided her to the bed. With a swift spin, I forced her to lean over the bed, kicking her feet apart and raising her shirt. I shoved my pants down, freeing myself from the tight material. “We can’t...” she protested, but I kept going.
Damn, she smelled so fucking good, like coconut or something. I trailed kisses all the way down her back. When I reached her shorts, I got to my knees and gave them a tug, making sure the panties came down too.
I continued to plant kisses along her spine, granting one to each cheek along with a gentle bite. Her legs quivered and she knew what was coming next. My hands gripped her legs tightly as my tongue found its way to her wetness. I lapped at her tender skin, enjoying the way her legs started to shake uncontrollably. Her muffled moans were music to my ears. She pushed back, grinding herself against my face even harder.
Releasing my grip on her leg, I reached down to give myself a few strokes, hoping I’d be able to hold back. I sucked her flesh into my mouth, knowing she was about to come apart any second... and she did. Her entire body shook as she collapsed onto the bed and shoved her face into the duvet. The muffled cry that escaped her lips was loud, but I was certain Jayce couldn’t hear it over the music.
Standing up, I leaned over her back, my hardened flesh poking into her leg. “Come on baby.. I need you.”
She turned and stood up, glancing down and quickly dropping to her knees. Her warm, sensational mouth engulfed me and making me realize how fast this will be over. “Jesus Scarlett...” it came out in a hoarse tone.
She released me and slid her tongue along the underside of my shaft. I twisted my fingers in her hair as her mouth moved down to my balls. Licking and sucking like a professional, she had me at the edge much faster than I wanted.
Staring up at me, she moaned, sending vibrations through me. I rocked my hips faster, feeling the heat spread quickly. “Oh God..” I was so wound up and my body started to tense. Unfortunately, I wasn’t young anymore and couldn’t hold back any longer. “Scarlett... I.. “ I groaned, panting like mad and struggling to remain quiet. Her grip on the back of my thigh grew tighter and with a string of curses, I let go. Lapping up every drop, she swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and sucked her finger into her mouth as she stood.
“I’ll be back, I’m gonna shower.” I watched her pull her clothes back on and grab something to change into before exiting. Climbing into bed, I was out within a matter of minutes. Eventually, I felt her arms wrap around me as she pressed herself against my back. I could so get used to this.
We all had breakfast together in the morning and Scarlett and I left not long after I dropped Jayce off at school. I had practice with the band and she was working all day. We didn’t see each other for a few days with our crazy schedules, but were constantly texting and had a date planned.
On Friday, I arrived at Scarlett’s apartment early, specifically to see Jayce before his date. After a talk with Mark, she finally agreed to let him take Sara out to the movies. The deal was, we would drop them off on our way out to dinner, and Stephanie and Mark would pick them up, then drop Sara off at home. Jayce would stay the night at Mark’s and all would be wonderful.
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Crysta-cubs Lamia Experience: New Home New Names
AO3
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I bring both the Lamias inside the yellow home. They are greeted by a humble living room with blue plush couches, a bookcase full of knickknacks and books, a TV with an Xbox and a classic Nintendo and a fireplace on the far wall on the left. Both lamias make excited noises at the TV set up, bringing a smile to my face. To the right of the fireplace is a round papasan chair, with a few ferret tubes weaved in the bottom, and left is a DVD rack full of movies and games. A fake Christmas tree sitting on top of a TV tray with nicely wrapped presents placed under it.
Over on the right side of the room is a short set of stairs leading to the bedrooms and the bathroom and to the left, on the adjacent wall of the fireplace, is the doorway to the kitchen. “Let me show you around.” I say as I walk to the nicely sized kitchen and dining area.
The kitchen has granite counter tops with a breakfast bar and stools. An array of normal kitchen appliances and another book case hold more random items. “You’re free to help yourselves to food if you get hungry, just let me know if we start to run out of anything.” The Honey-bo makes a happy noise and rubs his belly while the King shakes his head.
There is a doorway that leads downstairs next to the fridge to the right. In the dining room, is a rarely used table and a fish tank with guppies swimming about. A sliding glass door brings in the light from the back wall.
I walk over to the sliding glass door, which that leads to the porch and backyard. The yard is fenced in though part of the fence has small gaps but a large hedge follows the outside of the fence. A barn looking shed sits to the right, which I call my art studio.
I point out the apple and plum tree and tell them that they are free to enjoy once they are in season. A hummingbird feeder hangs from the plum tree. “If you desire hunting them, please don’t do it too frequently, as I do enjoy their presence.” I inform them. The king lamia nods in understanding while the honey-bo gives a lazy shrug. “Oh, if there are any mice that do decide to enter our house, please feel free to hunt them. Ones already gotten in once and ate my cheese.” The King Lamia looks interested in that.
Heading back inside we cross the kitchen and head down stairs. “I don’t like to come down too often, the stairway is just a bit tight.” I chuckle. “Don’t worry I haven’t fallen yet on these stairs… The other one, by the rooms… Well, first night, I turned off the lights too early, missed the last step.” I hear the Honey-bo chuckle as I proceed to showing off the laundry room, a small hangout room with a chair, another tv on an entertainment stand and few bean bag chairs.
We then enter the ‘garage’ which isn’t big enough for a car but makes perfect storage. In one spot there is a few mouse cages. “I have them down here so they can live quiet lives without knowing that there are predators in the house. There’s enough to keep a sustainable breeding population for you two.” The Honey-bo licks his teeth, the King nudges him with a scolding look.
I Climb up the stairs and return to the stairs in the living room. I open the door to the right to reveal my room. “You are welcome to come in here whenever you like, just be careful about letting the ferrets out, I have to place a baby gate in the doorway to the kitchen cause there are areas in the kitchen that I don’t want them getting into.”
In the middle of the room is a Queen size bed up against one of the windows in the room. To the left of it is a cluttered nightstand and a large plush cheetah and to the right is a tall, ferret nation cage. On the opposite wall is a dresser and other storage containers. Under the bed peaks out a few ferret tubes and small cat trees for the ferrets to use. “The ferrets free roam when I’m asleep and are kept in the cage while I’m at work, mostly for their safety and to reduce places for them to poop. When I’m home I let them have access to the living room, where they like to play but since they are older, they sleep most of the time”
Turning around and closing the door, I point to the bathroom between the rooms and then open the door to their room.
“So this is your room, you’re welcome to rearrange it to how it suits you. You can to let the ferrets in if you want.” I kneel down to show off the smaller door within the door itself to allow them to enter and exit, a similar door is found on my bedroom door as well. “They may get hyper cause it's an off limits area for them and they love to explore. Just be careful cause they may be difficult to remove from your room and they may choose to sleep in one your nests and hammocks.” Both Lamia seem interested at the door feature, the King looks at his Honey-bo with a mischievous grin which is returned with a lax shrug.
The room itself is well lit, one window face the backyard and another facing a hedge. A few desk, with plush round beds and blankets, align with the windows to allow viewing with ramps and towers to aid in getting up high. A few hammocks dangle from below the desks, one with a curtain for privacy.
“We can get more stuff in here later for you guys.” I set the carrier down, allowing them to crawl out. “ Well, make yourselves at home, I’ll introduce you two to the ferrets later when you’ve settle in.” I take out the blanket from the carrier and place it on one of the hammock, one with starry pattern, that I hope they’d like.
“Well, I’ll let you two get settled. I’m gonna release the ferrets so they have their living room time and I need to start dinner. Feel free to come out and hang out and meet the ferrets, or you can chill out here until you both are comfortable.” I give them each a gentle pet, receiving an appreciating chirp from both of them before exiting the room.
Both the Lamias watch me leave before turning to each other with large grins on their faces. They begin to look around their room, finding all the various sleeping spots and heating pads placed around the room, some out in the open and some tucked in hiding spots.
A nice water fountain sits in the corner of the room, providing fresh water to the room. Cupping his hands, the King lamia pulls up a bit of water, offering the Honey-bo the first sip. The Honey-bo is amused by the King’s sappiness as he drinks from his hands, though mischief plays in his eyes as the King, goes to get some water himself. Honey’s tail slips into the water and, with a flick, Splashes King. King jumps in surprise and glares at the Honey before splashing back at his bond mate. A small water fight ensues with both of them chirping and laughing.
After a while King lifts his hand to signal a stop, earning a wave of water splashing on him. He sighs and glares at his mate before looking around and finding some hand towels to dry them off. He tosses the first at Honey before drying himself off. He proceeds to try to dry up the wood floor, though it seems to have some water resistance. Honey seizes the moment to make a flirtatious pun at King, causing him to flair his hood and blush at the same time.
Suddenly a sniffing sound could be heard from the doorway. The Lamias turn to look at the door. The sniffing continue in earnest and is joined by a second sniffing sound followed by scratching. King’s hood flares at the door, while the Honey-bo lays low to peak under the door, two pink noses where checking the door, while a dark paw tries to dig the door open with no success. Honey laughs and informs the King of that, causing him to relax. After a moment they can hear footsteps approach and both are lifted away. “Hey, leave the door alone… come on let’s play over her” I say as I carry them away from the door.
Soft pitter-patters could be heard from afar as the ferrets begin to play, with small squeaks and dooks being made. My own footsteps could also be heard as I get them to chase me. Honey-bo takes his king by the hand and pulls him to their miniature doorway. Eager to meet the ferrets, King pulls ahead and opens the door only to get face to face with a dark sable ferret.
The ferret begins to sniff King’s face, causing him to pull back a little. This ferret has a wide face, white and black mask with a bit of while that trails through the mask like a cheetah tear mark. His fur is a bit dense but seems soft to the touch. King reached out to pet him, causing the ferret to follow his hand a bit to sniff it. King looks back at the Honey-bo in excitement, before the ferret pushes through to invade the room and begins to sniff around.
A scurrying can be heard and two more ferrets nearly trip over themselves getting up the stairs and rush for the door. One is white with small hints of black on his paws and tail. His back fur seems to have thinned out but this doesn’t seem to bother him and his hops and bounces in pure uncontrollable joy as he enters the room, bumps into Discord and they begin to tussle and war dance with each other.
He is joined with a smaller ferret, looking very close to the first one but sleeker, smaller and lacking a bit of fur on her tail. She skips and bunny hops over to King, giving him very quick sniffs before attacking his face and hood with little kisses. King squeaks in surprise, hood raises, giving the smaller ferret more access to his hood. After a bit she moves from him and does the same to Honey-bo who chuckles but pushes her away after getting enough kisses.
I hurry over to the room, worried that the ferrets were being a bother. “Sorry, they really wanted to meet you.” I pick up the smaller one who doesn’t seem to want to leave Honey alone. King waves me off, watching the two larger ferrets play fight, bobbing his head at their movements. The Honey-bo slithers over to King, pulling him towards the door, then looking at me to to motion that he wants to go out.
“Want me to remove the ferrets” I ask, receiving a firm nod. With the small ferret occupying my hand, licking it to her delight, I realize I don’t have enough hands for the two playful ferrets. I reach into my pocket to find and squeeze the squeaker ball I had. The large dark sable ferret Immediately disengages, listening for more squeaks before running over to me with obsessed attention to the ball. I walk out the room, still squeaking the ball, with ferret in tow. The white ferret bounds after him, still wanting him to continue to play. Both lamias follow after, allowing me to return to close the door for them.
The White ferret stops at the stairs, going back to the lamias and sniffing between the two, going up and down their bodies. He pulls back a bit, as if surprised, gears working in his brain before he play pounces king to invite him to play. King’s hood flairs of which Honey pets him to calm him down, reminding him that the ferret only wants to play. King nods before lunging at the ferret, wrestling him and tumbling down the first step. He ferret bounces up and retreats backwards down the stair, bouncing and dancing in excitement. King follows after to join in the play.
Honey descends slowly, noticing that I am now watching King play with the white ferret like a hawk. After a moment I relax before setting the smaller ferret down who bounds off to go to the tunnels under the papasan chair. I sit on the couch and offer Honey to be lifted onto the couch when he approaches. Honey crawls onto my hand and I lift him up. The other male ferret joins King and the white ferret in their battle.
“Not interested in rough housing, huh?” Honey shakes his head, watching his mate play, jerking his head in a curious matter at the two ferrets. “That’s, Discord and Papyrus,” I reply figuring that he was curious about their names. “The White one is Papyrus. He might have adrenal which is causing his hair loss, though it usually also causes fur loss on the tail, which he recently grew back from having blackheads on it.” I inform him. Honey nods, tongue flicking in the air, something catching his attention.
A quick scurry is heard from the tunnels as the smaller ferret rushes out to scratch at herself. “That’s Xena, she’s a sweetheart and loves to kiss” Discord accidentally bumps into her and she turns to hiss at him, curling in preparation to protect herself. Discord just looks at her before slinking away to go back to Papyrus and the king.
“I should really give you some names.. Can’t just keep calling you king and honey-bo now, can I? Do you have any prefered names” I look back at the honey-bo, only to find that he wasn’t right where I last saw him. In the corner of the couch is a bag with a few candies in it. I open the bag to find the Honey-bo stuffing a butterscotch candy into his mouth. “My Butterscotch!” I exclaimed in surprise. I laugh at his expression, removing him from the bag. “I’m gonna have to hide these better aren’t I?” The Honey-bo wiggles as he enjoys to candy.
I think for a moment and smile. “What if I called you butterscotch? Would you like that for a name, you definitely have a bit of a sweet tooth.” Honey-bo considers it for a bit before nodding. I turn my attention to the King playing with Papyrus and Discord. He seems to be trying, and failing, at getting them to listen to him.
“He’s a bit bossy, ain’t he” I ask the newly dubbed Butterscotch. He nodded with a soft smile. “He kinda likes being a leader and protector correct?” I inquire, receiving another nod. “So he’s kinda like an Alpha to a pack… what about Alpha? Think he’d like that?” Butterscotch seems interested in that and calls out to the king. The King snake looks over, listening to Butterscotch explain what I wanted to inquire to inquire. The king snake gets all excited, flexing is bony arms to show off how strong he is, before being pounced on by Discord.
“I guess he likes it, Alpha and Butterscotch, my two little lamia bitties. I love it.” I smile as I relax into the couch, watching as the ferrets and Alpha tire themselves out
#vex-bittys#vex bittys#lamias#lamia bitty#Crysta-cub's lamina experience#honey bo bitty#king bitty#butterscotch#Alpha#home tour#Ferrets#this is way too word#I type to much#Hope you all didn't fall asleep
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