I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.

Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.

Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.

Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.

Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!

Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.

Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.

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

Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.

"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"

It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.

So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.

Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.

Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.

He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.

Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"

Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.

The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.

"Kla-"

"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."

Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."

Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.

"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"

"Look at these snacks."

"These accessories don't look to bad..."

His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"

The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.

"My mom is planning to visit me."

"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.

"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."

They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.

"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.

"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"

"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.

Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.

They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.

All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.

"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"

"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.

Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....

"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.

"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.

"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."

"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"

Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.

Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...

Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.

"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.

Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.

Slice Of Life - Non AU - Masterlist

A Day In The Life of Married Dan And Phil (ao3) - umathurmanjustwatchedmehavesex

Summary: It's Autumn 2018 and, after having both come out soon after they tied the knot, Phil uploads a Day In The Life of them celebrating their first anniversary.

Feat: pancakes, Napstablook, Legend of Zelda, a romantic dinner, whether or not Sherlock is still relevant in 2018, other youtubers, a musical, prank calling, two dorks in love

a room full of my safest sounds (ao3) - snsk

Summary: day five: domestic fluff

Boomer Karen (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: “What do they mean, I look like a Boomer Karen?”

Phil reflects on getting older.

Bub (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: It’s a normal Saturday night when Dan lets it slip.

Connect The Dots (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: It's been years since they first met, and Phil still works out little white lies Dan told to impress him at the start of their relationship.

Even in the Dark (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: The power goes out for an evening and Dan and Phil have some quality alone time.

How Phil finally got a Cat or Why Dan and Phil really moved out of their first London Apartment (ao3) - sky_fish

Summary: Dan said “no” to a cat already for a thousand times, but Phil still does not give up on the idea of getting a pet. The day after a severe fight over the topic, Phil disappears and while Dan borders on another existential crisis, he finds an adorable black cat in their flat…

In The Absence of Light (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: After the Australian tour, things slow down. Dan's mental state gets bad again, and Phil takes care of him. It might be a little more complicated than either wish to admit.

Memories (ao3) - dayevsphil, intoapuddle

Summary: Memories can be flawed, but Dan definitely thinks he remembers their first kiss correctly. Phil thinks otherwise.

my light in the dark (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: He wishes that someone would swoop into his bedroom and make him well, to rub the ache from his back while wiping his face down with a cool flannel. He longs for cool fingers to run through his messy hair before massaging his scalp. He wants Phil.

Pure (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Experience and learning isn’t a place. It’s a person. It’s Dan.

Sun, It Will Rise (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: Phil gets blue-lighted into hospital after sort of, possibly, maybe swallowing superglue. Dan stays up for him.

The Cuddle Sutra (ao3) - strawberrysunflower

Summary: It’s taken the better part of ten years for Dan and Phil to figure out the best position, but they’re pretty sure that by now they’ve perfected the art of the cuddle.

The Other Side Of A Loop (ao3) - dandrogynous

Summary:

“Well, but you're brave,” Phil says. Dan smiles slightly and leans his head on Phil’s shoulder again. “Braver than I am.” “I’m scared of the dark,” Dan tells him. “Not brave.” “I’m scared of putting new shoes on top of tables. Even more not brave.”

2011 slice of life - moving in and dropping out title from Seigfried by Frank Ocean

The Worst Kind of Friendship Bracelets (ao3) - Emptylester (timelordangel)

Summary: Dan and Phil accidentally handcuff themselves together, shenanigans and important conversations ensue.

this is the place (where i don't feel lost) (ao3) - commonemergency

Summary: He loved it here. He loved being with Phil and his family. He loved not being on the internet or thinking about what people are saying online, he loved the walks and the talks and the freeness that being here brought. Or Dan spends Christmas and New Years Eve with the Lesters.

together: a tale in five board games (ao3) - dieofthatroar

Summary: Dan in his BBC LGBT interview: "I had friends who honestly would be like, 'so, are you going to get a girlfriend at some point?' and I was like, 'so you have no idea, even though we've been friends for five years.'"

Dan and Phil have this friend that comes over for monthly board game night.

Where Nothing Bothered Us (ao3) - realeyesrealize

Summary: These are some of Dan’s favourite mornings, just Phil and him. This is when he feels the most grounded, just a normal man and his partner, making plans about their future.

or: a much needed lazy morning amidst tour planning.

One

I am going to tell you a story. It’s a confusing and most of all a story you might not believe. My life took a turn, in a way I never expected it would.

The last couple of years in the summer, my friend and I, took road trips. We took like two weeks of work, and traveled around countries. We have been to France, Belgium and Italy. And this year we decided to go to Germany, the Black Forest area. We will drive like a day, find a motel to stay and next day we hit the road again. We tried to avoid the high ways as much as we could. The landscapes are so much better to see when you are driving the country roads. When we find a town we like much, we stay like two days, but never longer. We both drive, and it was just at the beginning of our trip. Day three if I remember correctly.. We were just an hour on our way. We stayed at a motel, but the food was bad, the bed was hard, and we’re lacking some sleep. That’s why I was so confused when we past a road sign. But I did order Amber to stop. She pulled the car aside the road, confused why I wanted her to stop.

 

My excitement took over my confusion. You see, I downloaded a game maybe a year ago, but stopped playing or looking at it just a few month back. It said a new update would be there soon, but nothing came. So I lost a bit of interest. A murder mystery game called Duskwood. I was aware the town in the game was based on a real town in Germany. But I didn’t know the town Duskwood actually did exists. At least not that I could find on google. But this was pretty cool, how many times do some get the chance to see a the real town a game took place? I had stepped out of the car to take a picture of the sign. And then I got back into the car. “Amber, this is our next town to visit” it told my friend. She started the car looking at me a bit annoyed, but she took the right turn towards the town. “Why do you want to go to this town, Layana?” still confused “We are just driving an hour or so. And now you want to stop already?”. A huge grin appeared on my face “I will explain everything when we find the Rainbow Café. If I am correct it must be in the center of the town.” Amber shrugged her shoulders and shakes her head “Fine, you and your mysteries” she mumbled.

 

The drive to Duskwood took about twenty minutes. Again I ordered, to Ambers annoyance again, to stop at the welcoming sign Jessy had showed me in the game, when we took the digital tour through Duskwood. I wanted to take as much as pictures as I could. As we continued the road into town, we passed the motel, just as on the map. And we finally arrived at the town center. We parked the car, and walked towards the Rainbow Café. And just as I hoped, there is was. The outside sitting was open, and not very busy. So we took a table, sat down and ordered some coffee. “You better explain to me why we are here. Sure it’s a nice town. But not that impressive with the haste you wanted to see it” Amber looked at me demanding to explain. So I took out my phone. “You see, I played a game few months back, and this town where we are right now, is based on the town in my game. Isn’t that awesome!” my voice pinched a bit too high in the excitement. “Here let me show you!”. I opened the app. It took a while before the oh so familiar screen should appear. But it didn’t. It went straight to the chat history. With multiple unread texts. From Jessy, Cleo, Lilly. Even Dan tried to contact me. I was confused, like shocked confused. Jake had send me messages as well, and those are the ones I opened first.

 

Jake: Layana?

Jake: Where are you?

Jake: Are you ok?

Jake: I found something interesting to our investigation. You have time?

Jake: I am worried sick about you. Please come online

 

I couldn’t figure out how many time has been between the texts. That was always a thing, with this game. There wasn’t really a timeline. Only the real time of my phone was known. Also there was no option to respond. As I read all the texts, an earie feeling crawled up. Like a knot in my stomach. It was weird, it didn’t add up to the game play. I scrolled through all the texts send by my fake game friends. But also there was no option to respond. And all the text where kind of similar. Where I was, that they were worried. And that I needed to come online as soon as possible. It didn’t make any sense. I went back to the chat with Jake. I stared to the screen still trying to process what was going on.

 

Jake is now online

 

Jake: Hello?

Jake: Layana is this you?

Jake: Why are you not responding?

 

“I want to Jake, but I cant. There is no option to respond” I talked to my phone.

 

Jake: Wait let me help you with that.

 

“You can hear me? How?

 

Jake: I will explain later. Give me a moment

 

I saw my phone flickering, then my WhatsApp gave a notification. And the game app disappeared.

 

Jake: This must be working right?

Layana: Yes, this is working, but how?

Layana: WAIT! This isn’t real, you can’t be real. How is this happening?

Jake: What do you mean it isn’t real?

Layana: You are not real. How can you be in my WhatsApp? How did you do that?

Jake: ?

Jake: I am real, just as you are.

Layana: No, I can’t believe that. You and all the others, it is a game. This all was a just a game. Some sort of puzzle murder mystery game. And now you are saying you are real? It is impossible, I do not know who you are. But you need to quit playing this creepy game with me. I am going to block you right now!

Jake: NO

Jake: Please don’t.

Jake: Layana?

 

I tried to process everything what just happened as quick as I could. But there were to many questions. It was too confusing. But I couldn’t take the risk of blocking Jake. If he was really real, my wish came true. I had already given up the idea of meeting him in real life. Of course I never really thought that would ever happen. But a girl can dream right. So I can’t risk losing him for real, and even though I can’t process what’s happening right now, I will play along. And then it hit me.

 

Layana: Jake if you are real. And the others are real. Than … oh god

Jake: What is wrong?

While standing in the middle of the town center. I looked up from my phone, scanning arround. Realizing that the man without a face is real too. And I am in the most dangerous place I ever could be.

Jake: NO! You promised me you wouldn’t go.

Layana: That was before I knew it was all real.

Layana: Please believe me Jake. I never lied to you. It was a game, I downloaded it. And I never knew it was real. If I only knew it was..

Jake: You need to get out of there, right now! They never caught the culprit.

Layana: Jake, I am standing in the middle of Duskwood. With coffee at the Rainbow Café. I don’t think leaving will help me now. I am a stranger here, and everyone will have noticed the new face by now.

Jake: No! NO! There is no way I can protect you if you are there.

Layana: Jake I need a moment to order my thoughts. I will text you later.

I hate to end our conversation, but Amber was looking at me with worry. "Layana, tell me whats wrong? Your face is white as a sheet." She grabbed my arm while leading me back to our seat. "You need to get out of here! Take our car, and leave. Go as far as you can. Or go home even." I didn't want her here. She needed to go. "Are you crazy?! Why would I leave you here alone. No way!!" She started to speak louder. "Sst quiet. Listen, I cannot explain why. You wouldn't understand... sorry that sounded to harsh. But, your life will be in danger if you stay. I am going to be fine. I need to finish somethings here. But I can only do this if I am alone. Don't stay." I begged her. "I don't like this one bit. Has this something to do with this game of yours? Because thats rediculous, it's just a game. Don't get so worked up about it" she rolled her eyes at me. She never like games in general. But seeing me freaking out over one, is to much of nonsense for her.

I know she can't understand this all. Hell I don't understand it even. But she needs to leave, right now. "I don't care what you think Amber! You. Need. To. Go. Right. Now! Our paths will split here. You go your way and I will go mine." I put some change on the table. Grabbed my bag and walked towards the car to get my suitcase. "Fine! If that's what you want. I will go. But don't come crying to me, when bad things happen. I warned you!" Her words came out as fire. When I got my stuff from the car. She got in, amd drove off.

Great, where to go now?

I have a fic request, pretty please! Andreil (ofc!) Anyway Neil not answering his phone (cuz it died, again, oops) and Andrew losing his shit and hunting him down!

Okay it’s 2am and this is finally, finally being posted. It should have gone up like a week ago but Tumblr wouldn’t let me answer asks at the time. I’ve changed this around so many times and I don’t know if this is what you were hoping for but I tried my best! I tweaked it a little too, so sorry.

Full Masterlist.

—————

This is Josten, I don’t want to talk to you so don’t leave a message.

This is Josten, I don’t want to talk to you so don’t leave a message.

Andrew had now called Neil’s phone about twenty fucking times and he still hadn’t answered; he always answered when Andrew called him. Everyone was in the lounge at the court since it had been at least four hours since anyone had heard from him. Nicky was almost in tears, Dan and Matt looked like they were two seconds away from calling in a search party and of course Aaron the asshole looked like he didn’t care that Neil was missing. Abby was tucked underneath Coach’s arm, her face etched with worry and taking comfort from the man. It was about fucking time they got their shit together. The man in question cleared his throat just when Andrew was about to leave and search the campus himself. “Minyard sit the fuck down, we will find him we just have to piece some things together first.”

All he did was sneer at the command but stayed nonetheless. He was itching to pull out his knives and bury them in something but Renee gave him a look as if she knew exactly what he was thinking and she shook her head at him. Nicky really was crying now and Andrew had to force himself not to roll his eyes. Yes they all cared about Neil, they were all his family, but with the reactions they were giving it was like they expected the worst. Andrew could not think like that, wouldn’t think like that because even though he hated when the idiot said it, he had to believe that Neil was fine.

“Who was the last person to see him?” Allison spoke up from the other side of the room, and so now it looked like she was getting worried. When they’d first gathered here it had only been an hour and she figured he’d turn up in the next few minutes. Oh how wrong she was. Matt forced out an answer, his leg bouncing non-stop, just like it had been after the riot two years ago and Neil had been taken to Baltimore.

“Uh I did. We walked to our first class together after morning practice.” Well that didn’t really help because the junkie had his Spanish class right after that one and then he usually went on his run after that. No one would have seen him at Fox Tower after that, because no one else was free. Actually that was wrong because-

“He was talking in Japanese. He was talking in fucking Japanese.” Because the coward that was Kevin Day had one of his classes cancelled and he’d told everyone he’d go back to the dorms and figure out a new drill they could do, not that anyone really cared. Before he could do a repeat performance of choking Kevin out, Renee was on him in a flash, restraining him from any movement. When Kevin turned to look at Andrew, he’d gone as white as a sheet, as if he realised what he’d just said and visibly swallowed. Andrew was going to kill him, and then bury his body where nobody would find it. Just as soon as the good Christian girl let go of him.

“What the fuck do you mean he was talking in Japanese, Day?” Andrew’s voice was low and smooth, promising a whole lot of pain if Kevin didn’t respond in the way he was expected to. The spineless coward looked around the room at the foxes, eyes lingering on his father, before turning back to Andrew and wringing his hands in front of him.

“When I got back to the dorms, Neil was already there. I was going to ask him if he wanted to help me come up with new drills and plays when I heard it. He didn’t sound like he normally did, it was like he was someone else and was talking in whispered Japanese like he was worried about someone hearing him.”

The fucking stupid asshole.

He was dealing with Moriyama bullshit and hadn’t even bothered to tell Andrew. They had agreed on no more lies, to trust one another. Looks like Andrew had made a mistake on that front but really, it was bound to happen. That was a lie, Neil was most likely in meltdown mode and had forgotten he had people who could help him now. Nicky was hysterical now and started yelling at Kevin, tears falling down his cheeks. “Well you speak Japanese too dickwad, what the fuck was he actually saying or are you going to wait another four hours to tell us that?”

“I don’t know what he was talking about! There were a few quick ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers and an ‘of course’ but he wasn’t actually giving information. He probably didn’t want to get into trouble.”

Oh Andrew was going to enjoy being responsible for the death of the great Kevin Day. Just as he was about to fight Renee to get to him, the sound of the door opening pushed through his senses and he swivelled to see Neil walk into the room. Nicky gave a cry of relief, getting onto his feet and joining Matt as they ran over to fuss over the redhead. Neil tried meeting Andrew’s gaze and smile, but all he could do was glare at the sight of those piercing blues. Andrew was quite angry with him, and he’d soon find that out. Wymack was also quite angry by the looks of it, arms now crossed over his chest and a face like thunder. “Where in the actual fuck have you been, Josten? And don’t give me any of your usual bullshit because it’s not going to be good enough.”

Andrew watched Neil gently extricate himself from his cuddly giants and sighed as he looked around the room at everyone. It was Wymack who’d asked for answers yes, but Neil didn’t look at anyone other than Andrew, as if it was just the two of them.

“Ichirou called. He wanted an update on his assets and to make sure we weren’t doing anything stupid. He also wanted to reiterate what would happen if we didn’t manage to attract pro teams that weren’t to his liking. I told him that he wouldn’t be let down.”

Aaron piped up for the first time since they’d all walked into the court hours ago. “It’s been literal hours Josten, a text to say ‘I’m still alive, unfortunately’ would have been great. I’ve wasted my whole day.”

“I know how long it’s been, jackass.” Neil snapped, glaring daggers into Aaron’s skull. Andrew was still vibrating with anger and couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Everyone get the fuck out.” When they all just stared at him, not moving, he emphasised his point by unsheathing a knife and giving a firm, “Now.”

Nicky and Kevin moved like lightning and were the first to leave. Allison smirked for some stupid reason, winking at Neil as she strode out of the room. Matt and Dan looked weary but still left, Aaron on their heels. Renee gave them both gentle smiles and nodded her head. Wymack gave Neil a stern look like he wanted to say more but thought better of hit, rubbing his forehead and mumbling about being ‘too old for this shit’. Abby gave Neil a few motherly touches, which the redhead flinched away from for the first time in a long time, and then she too was gone.

Now that they were alone Neil tried explaining with an, “Andrew I...” but he trailed off, seemingly lost for words. He didn’t have a chance to think of anything else before Andrew flung himself at his stupid junkie, fists gripping at Neil’s- no Andrew’s –t-shirt and burying his head into his chest. He smelt of apples and sweetness and god, Andrew felt like he could finally fucking breathe.

“You didn’t answer your fucking phone. Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Neil’s arms moved, one wrapping around Andrew’s waist the other holding the back of his neck, keeping him against his chest.

“Ichirou had a few extra words before the call ended. He said he was ‘sorry for my loss’. I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about at first but then I remembered. It’s the anniversary of mom’s death. I turned my phone off after and just ran. I came back when I turned my phone back on and saw the missed calls.”

As much as he hated Mary Hatford, he knew why Neil still mourned her sometimes. He was slowly beginning to understand that what his mother had done to him was wrong, that she had abused him for years, but she was all he had known and was the only safe thing for him. He hated it but kept quiet, not wanting to get into an argument on the matter right now. “Just let me know you’re alright next time. Kevin heard your call, heard the Japanese. I thought, I thought...”

Neil suddenly cupped his face in his scarred hands, tilting his head back so they were looking at each other, before leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I’m right here ‘Drew and I’m not going to disappear again. I’m right here.”

The kiss that followed was soft, gentle and slow, so unlike them but it was what they needed just then. They need to be able to feel everything and to be able to feel each other. Andrew didn’t want to let go, he wanted to stay and kiss Neil until his lips went numb but exhaustion was a bitch. He pulled back, looking at Neil’s lips which were swollen from their kisses and he had a pretty red flush that had blossomed on his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry and you owe me ice cream after what you just pulled.” Neil just laughed and nodded, taking one of Andrew’s hands in his own and linking their fingers together, walking them both towards the door.

“Whatever you want ‘Drew, whatever you want and I’ll give it to you.”

—————

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Witch in the Woods

A bit (lot) late but life happens. Thanks to Library Forest for giving me the inspo to write more for this :)

(Find Chapter One with a search of “Fk ch 1″ on my blog) 

Come chat with me on discord: https://discord.gg/nwwcSQSUjh

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Seth slunk through the bushes and trees until he reached a faint crooked path.

He was glad that there hadn’t been any brambles, that would’ve sucked. But he’d finally gotten on the path, even if it was just a small one. Barely there, like animals had wandered through here enough to cut a path but not enough to clear it.

He paused on the path, studying his sleeves for ticks. There didn’t seem to be any, he’d basically drenched himself in bug spray so hopefully that worked well enough.

He hadn’t seen any ticks so far, so high hopes!

He stooped then and stacked some rocks into a small pyramid to mark the point where he joined the path.

He was pretty sure he’d be able to find his way back regardless, but better safe then sorry. If he did end up taking too long, then he might get caught by Grandpa.

He hummed as he rummaged through his cereal box, studying the compass he pulled out.

The path seemed to be running northeast, though he’d started off heading east. The undergrowth was getting thicker though, so the path was a good reason to head off course a little. It would be far easier than trying to cut through the shrubbery with his pocketknife.

His dad said no to buying him a machete.

Life was unfair.

Seth straightened once more and studied the path.

He shivered despite the warmth, it seemed almost foreboding. The tall trees stood close together, letting through very little sunlight. The bushes waved, and he eyed the large spider crawling up the side of the tree. A gnarled black tree with thorny leaves almost seemed to reach for him.

The forest almost seemed alive, but that was silly. He wasn’t living in a fairy tale.

Seth straightened. It was fine! He was going exploring in a cool forest and he’d bring back a shiny rock or something to show Kendra that it was perfectly safe.

He paused, glancing at the rocks he’d collected.

Yeah none of them were shiny enough for Kendra, she liked sparkly, pretty things.

He’d find something.

He definitely did not jump when something rustled in the bushes but did dig out a small pair of plastic binoculars from his cereal box.

He scanned the area slowly but didn’t see anything interesting.

He shrugged and headed down the path, not making it twenty feet before an animal emerged from the undergrowth onto the path.

He froze, it was a porcupine. It’s bristles gleamed in the faint light and it’s eyes seemed too sharp and intelligent.

It studied him for a moment, then started towards him.

He quickly backed up, it’s slender quills shiny and sharp and very very close.

Weren’t animals supposed to be afraid of humans? Maybe it had rabies? That was bad right? Kendra would definitely tell on him if he got bit by an animal with rabies.

Maybe it just didn’t see him, he was perfectly camouflaged with his camouflage shirt after all!

He stopped backing up and straightened up, trying to look big. He stomped a foot hard and growled at the porcupine.

It stared at him for a long moment, seeming almost unimpressed a it’s nose twitched, but then it turned away and scurried off the path.

He let out a breath, that had been a bit scary. If he’d gotten bitten, or worse covered in those quills, he would’ve had no chance of hiding his excursion into the woods.

And worse, Kendra would stop him from coming back out.

He wished Kendra had come, she might’ve screamed, or spouted some boring fact about porcupines that would’ve made it seem tame. He could have made fun of her instead of being frightened.

Not that he was very frightened of course, but it felt… exposed being stared down by the porcupine with all those bristling quills. He should probably be careful to not step on one in the undergrowth.

He wavered for a moment, wondering if he should head back. He’d come a long way though, and if he went back with nothing to show for it Kendra would say she told him so and then make him stay in the yard for the week.

He nodded, he needed to find something interesting first, to show off to her. Then he’d go home. It wouldn’t be hard to find his way back.

Seth headed off down the trail again. He studied the trees and growth as he passed, noting the trees with moss and lichen growing on them (don’t some mosses only grow on one side of the tree? Or is that all of them? Or something else? He swears Kendra talked about it on the car ride). There was ivy twisting around some trees too, he’d have to be careful cause they might be poison ivy.

He frowned as the path forced, before checking his compass. The right one went northwest, and the other due east. Seth decided to stick with East.

Slowly the trees began to space out, and the shrubs grew lower and more spread out. The forest slowly grew brighter as well, and he was able to see around much further.

He was studying a cool red bird that was watching him from a tree when he noticed something strange.

There was what seemed to be a wall of ivy just sitting in the woods to the left of the path.

That certainly seemed interesting, maybe there was something cool there he could bring back to show Kendra. That would show her, she’d definitely come along next time and he could show her the ivy wall.

He grinned and headed off the path.

The dense undergrowth almost seemed to cling to his legs, the plants darker than the rest of the forest, and he was pretty sure that the one bush was covered in poisonous berries. He shoved through it all, pausing by a tree as he realized that the wall of ivy was actually some sort of structure, overgrown with ivy.

He shifted, something seemed off.

The forest was quiet.

He shook his head, it was fine, it was just some ivy. Honestly why was he so worried.

He trudged closer, studying the ivy. He wasn’t sure what the structure (a shed maybe?) was made of, probably wood but he couldn’t see it beneath the ivy.

He managed to walk around the shed, and faltered when he stumbled onto another path, with a circle that stopped right in front of the opening to the shed.

“Hail, young master,” crooned a silky voice.

Seth spun, looking into the shed and seeing an old woman.

He resisted the urge to shudder. She looked bad.

She was old and wrinkled, with matted white hair that almost seemed yellow. In her wrinkled hands she clutched a knotted rope that seemed to be covered in blood and saliva.

Seth wrinkled his nose as he glanced at his face, trying not to cringe when she smiled, showing missing teeth. Her filmy bloodshot eyes were locked on him and her smile stretched the purple scab on her face, which was matched by more on her arms.

She stood up, supporting herself on the stump.

“What brings you to my home?” the woman asked.

Her voice was lovely, like a song, and did not match her appearance.

He swallowed, noting how tall she was despite her state.

“I’m just out for a walk,” he said carefully. “Do you live out here?”

She nodded, “I do indeed. Would you care to come inside for some tea?”

Seth almost stepped forward, almost, but he caught himself.

Something was off.

“No, sorry, I need to get back in time for lunch or my sister will be upset.”

A fool proof plan: blame Kendra. It always worked for getting out of stuff at school.

“Oh of course,” she crooned. “It’s just been so long since I had a guest. Strange for you to be wandering about alone, what about your sister?”

“She’s doing summer homework,” Seth said immediately. “And it’s my grandpa’s land so I get to wander some.”

“Oh?” she said. “You’re old Stan’s kids then?”

“You know my grandpa then?” Seth asked.

“Oh, certainly,” she grinned. “He’s my landlord after all.”

Seth nodded sagely, “Well nice to meet you, what’s your name?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to not introduce yourself first?” She chided lightly.

Something told Seth he shouldn’t give her his name, he was reminded of the old tales from his grandpa.

“I’m-“ Seth wracked his brain for a name. “I’m Aaron.”

Sorry Aaron his friend from school, first name he could think of.

“A pleasure, Aaron,” she said with gleaming eyes. “I do wish I had known you’d be stopping by, I must look frightful.”

“You look fine,” Seth lied. “Ms…”

She ignored his question, reaching behind her stump.

“Let me show you something interesting, in apology for being so unprepared for a guest.”

“I’ll send a note ahead of time next time.”

She smiled, somehow looking dangerous despite her appearance.

Seth blinked at what she pulled out from behind the stump. A little wooden man.

It was less than a foot tall and made entirely of dark wood. It was plain, not clothes or painted features, just wood held together with tiny gold hooks where the joints would be. It had a stick in it’s back, that the woman took hold of.

Placing a paddle on her lap, she began to make the puppet dance by moving the stick. It was rhythmic and reminded Seth of Kendra when she did tap dancing, before she picked up piano.

“That’s a cool… puppet,” he said.

He should really get out of here, it felt wrong.

A rat scurried behind her stump and Seth looked away.

“It’s not a puppet, dear Aaron, it’s a limberjack.”

“Where’s his ax?”

“Not a lumberjack, a limberjack,” she chided. “It’s known by other names, a clog doll, or a jigger, perhaps a dancing dan?”

Seth shrugged.

“Well, I call him Mendigo. He keeps me company in this old shack of mine. Why don’t you come over, I’ll let you try him out.”

“I better not,” he said, something was very off. Her eyes were too bright, her smile too sharp, the doll too smooth. “I need to get back; my sister won’t be happy if I get delayed by crazy old witches in the woods.”

Her eyes flashed, “Old witches in the woods give the most interesting presents to those that treat them with respect.”

Seth shrugged, “I don’t need any presents. I’m just wandering. It was nice to meet you-“

“Leaving so soon?”

“I’ll come by another time,” Seth offered, having no intention of ever coming back. “Bye, Ms…”

She didn’t give her name, “Perhaps one last game before you leave, Aaron?”

His instincts told him to leave now, “Sorry, no can do.”

“Just one moment,” she crooned. She put the wooden doll away and pulled out a box and a shining gemstone. “I’ll even show a prize now. Simply touch the back of this box, and you may have this gem.”

Seth hesitated, he could sell the stone, after showing it off to Kendra, and have a lot of money.

But…

But this lady seemed crazy, dangerous, unhinged. And she still hadn’t given him her name.

“I’d rather play with the puppet,” he said. “I have to go. Bye crazy witch.”

“So insolent,” she mused. “Children these days really do as they please. Should you leave on this note your journey home may not be so pleasant, young adventurer.”

He shivered, her tone was dangerous, the air seemed heavy.

“I’m in a hurry,” he offered as he inched around the shed. “Lunch is soon.”

She hummed, her eyes closing as she raised a hand.

He didn’t take his eyes from her though she made no move to follow, her mumbling making his hair stand on end even when she was out of view.

As soon as he reached the far side of the shack he bolted.

Plunging through the undergrowth he dashed back to the path, pushing past the poisonous and dark plants that seemed to mirror the shed of the witch lady.

He glanced over his shoulder and though he saw no sign of her he couldn’t help but shiver. She had looked so wretched and smelled so foul and her challenge…

It reminded him scarily of one of Grandpa’s stories.

A witch in the woods.

But those were just fairy tales, everyone knew they weren’t true.

Seth couldn’t help but feel unsafe as he reached the path. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t following, or that he knew she couldn’t be a witch because witches weren’t real. Something was off and he needed to get back to the house.

Compass in hand he hurried down the path, glancing down at it to confirm the path he winced at the sudden sting in his ear.

He spun, seeing a pebble fall to the ground.

Who-

He looked around, but no one was there.

Could it be the old woman?

Another object struck him in the back of the neck, making him spin again, just in time to find an acorn flying at him.

He dodged it, tense as he noticed a rat scurrying through the bushes.

That was from two different directions.

He flinched, jumping back as he heard a cracking noise, like wood splitting.

A huge tree limb fell where he’d just been standing, a few leaves and twigs swishing him as it did.

The blood drained from his face.

If he hadn’t jumped back-

That could’ve killed him.

He swallowed, looking around, but the dark forest offered nothing.

A large spider crawled up the side of a tree, a rat scurried through the bushes.

Vague murmurs seemed to follow him as he took off at a sprint down the path.

Whispers crawled up his spine, stones and acorns whizzed at him as he ran, stinging his arms, back, legs. He ducked and wove and then cried at as something snatched at his ankle.

His hands ached as he tried and failed to catch himself. Rocks dug into stomach, his cheek was wet, blood? He scrambled for his ankle, finding nothing there. His ankle throbbed with pain, did he sprain it?

That had felt like something hard and thin, like a strong cord. A trip wire? But how? There hadn’t been one earlier, and the woman couldn’t have done it even if she’d started running the moment he’d passed out of sight.

There was a cracking noise above him, and he rolled over just in time for a branch to hit the ground where he’d just been.

Stumbling to his feet he winced at the pain in his ankle, wiping his cheek and swallowing hard at the blood on his hand.

There was a rustling noise behind him, and something that sounded almost like a laugh.

The bushes seemed to stretch out, dark and foreboding.

He flinched at the cracking noise of a dry branch behind him, and then he took off again.

He tried to watch where he put his feet, flinching at ever stone thrown at him.

He raced past the place where the trail forked and sprinted back the way he came.

He wondered if the fairy tales held some truth to them and he’d angered a witch.

But no, those were just tales. This was ridiculous, the lady must’ve had a friend close by or else this wouldn’t be possible.

His breathing was labored, gasping for breath as he felt his lungs struggle to draw. No, not having an asthma attack now, worst outcome.

He forced himself to keep going, ignoring his own wheezing, the heat in the air, the seat on his forehead. He had to get to the house.

He stumbled to a halt, breath a strangled wheeze. He knew that gnarled tree on the side of the path. He’d seen it when inspecting the path.

He used it as a reference to find the pile of rocks, but they were gone. He knew this was where he’d made the pyramid…

Leaves crunched, a cracking noise echoed above him.

Seth took a quick look at his compass to confirm that he was heading West, then dove into the forest.

Earlier he’d walked this at a leisurely pace, studying all the trees and bushes and flowers and toadstools and every unusual rock he could find. He’d even saved one or two. Now he tore through the forest at full speed, his vision blurry and his breathing strangled. The undergrowth clawed at his legs, thorns that hadn’t been a concern before tearing at his pants. Branches whipped against his face and chest, more blood dripped from his face.

And that’s not even counting the continued pebbles striking him, nor the second time he fell (his ankle throbbing, definitely injured now, and the trip wire made of a hard cord sitting innocently in the trees).

Finally, wheezing and gasping and clutching his chest, the energy his panic wearing thin and his strength lagging, he glimpsed the house up ahead.

The sounds of pursuit faded away as he stumbled into the yard, safe at last.

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

The wall opposite the windows in the playroom had multiple rows of bookshelves and a few wardrobes.

She had searched the wardrobes, thinking of Narnia as she searched through them.

Though she found no secret passages, she did find some very nice jackets, a few even fit her!

There were also little drawers built into the inside of one of the wardrobes, and it held all kinds of jewelry, hair pins, and assorted beauty supplies. There was even one drawer that just seemed to have hidden weapons.

The one bracelet with a skinny blade hidden inside was very pretty and Kendra wanted. Seth would probably find them super cool too.

She’d thrown a few of the jackets that were his size there (there were even cloaks and she’d absolutely claimed one cause… cloak).

The books on the shelves looked very interesting, and Kendra was definitely gonna devote time to reading them, but they didn’t reveal a secret door either.

She’d searched with a stool tool, reaching even the highest shelves.

They did reveal something else though.

Now Kendra was holding a leather covered blue book, with gold letters on the front and edging the pages. The Journal of Secrets.

It was very fancy, and held shut by three sturdy clasps, each with a keyhole. The final key from Grandpa didn’t fit any of the keyholes, but the two she’d found earlier did.

She heard someone stumbling up the steps and quickly put the book back on the shelf and pocketed the keys. She didn’t want Seth joining in the puzzle, that was her thing.

Seth charged through te door and slammed it shut behind him.

She opened her mouth to chide him but faltered when she took in his appearance.

His face was bloody and so were his hands. His pants had tears in them, and his knees looked a bit bloody as well. He was covered in dirt with leaves and twigs stuck in his hair.

Most worrisomely, he was wheezing hard.

“Seth!” she hurried over to him. “What happened? Oh no, lets get some water, and bandaids. Can you breathe? Do you need your inhaler? Stars how did you get so torn up?”

Seth dug through his emergency kit, struggling to breathe and his hands shaking.

“Here,” Kendra said, taking it from him. “I got it.”

She found his emergency inhaler buried at the bottom, and the spacer and shook the inhaler before putting them together, then handed it to Seth.

He struggled for a moment, letting out a strangled cough as he tried to hold his breath.

In, out, in, out, in, and he breathed out all his air, then quickly put the mouth piece in front of him and hit the inhaler, breathing in.

He held his breath for a few seconds, counting silently, before he let it out and broke into a coughing fit.

After a moment he repeated the process.

Kendra turned away, digging through her own bag to find the heart rate monitor.

“How did this happen?” she asked, handing it to him to check his oxygen level.

“Uh, was in the forest-“ he coughed “-and found… found- old lady. Like a witch, she lives in the woods-- in this old hut-“ he paused to catch his breath, coughing more.

“An old lady living in the forest?” Kendra wondered. “Did she attack you?”

“No, but-“ he coughed “-seemed like… whatsername, from grandpa’s stories, the witch in the forest. Stars what’s ‘er name.”

“Muriel?” Kendra asked. “The old wife from like 160 years ago?”

“Yeah- the one locked, in a shack, with the magic rope. The lady, had a rope, and uh-“ he coughed and winced when Kendra shot a pointed look at his inhaler.

He shook it, then copied what he’d done earlier, letting out a breath after about ten seconds.

“Well uh, had a creepy doll too. Wouldn’t say her name.”

“You didn’t tell her yours, did you?” Kendra sked worriedly, checking his oxygen and frowning when it was at 92. That’s lower than it should be.

“No, I said my name was Aaron. But-“ he paused for breath “-but I left, cause she creepy with  creepy box and stuff, there was something, someone? Multiple people?” he broke into a coughing fit and paused to take deep breaths.

“People did something?”

“Threw rocks,” he got out. “Lots. And a trip wire… and branches fell, almost hit me. Big ones.”

Kendra frowned, Seth didn’t have asthma attacks very often anymore, so something definitely happened, and he’s bleeding…

“Did you see anyone?”

“Just some… spiders… and rats… no people- ‘cept her.”

He stood straight, and a check of the monitor said his oxygen was 93.

Good, he’s recovering.

“Do you think Grandpa Sorenson knows he has a creepy old lady on his property?”

“She mentioned him,” Seth said, his breathing still strangled but he could talk easier. “And if she is’a witch then-“

“Those are fairy tales,” Kendra argued. “She definitely sounds creepy though, you shouldn’t go back into the woods.”

“You should come with next time.”

Kendra frowned, “Next time? Seth you’re bleeding! You apparently got attacked by a creepy old lady!”

“Yeah but-“ he paused “-I found a cool thing. And you said if I found a cool thing-“

“I said if you found a witch in the woods you weren’t going back,” she pointed out.

“Okay she’s not’a’witch then!”

Kendra huffed, “Lets get you cleaned up.”

Seth frowned, “I wanna explore more later. I’m gonna.”

“If you come back again scratched up and bleeding and having an asthma attack I’m telling Grandpa,” Kendra said. “That’s dangerous.”

“Fine, sure,” he coughed. “I’ll stay ‘way from the place I found the lady.”

Kendra frowned, but pulled out a water bottle and some napkins from her bag.

Seth brought exploration tools, she brought medical supplies.

“Stay still so I can clean up the blood.”

“You wanna come next time?”

She hummed, getting to work, “We’ll see.”

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and leave a review, they feed my soul.

What did you think of Seth's encounter? What about Kendra's looking around the room? How about what they talked about at the end?

I had to cut out the treehouse scene, it didn't fit but I'll put it in a bit later.

Heart of a dog.

An OC for BSD no one asked for? It’s more likely than you think. A day in life of an original character by Yokelish no one asked for? Absolutely. I don’t have to, I know, but Misha has been on my mind recently, which worries me. Mostly, worries me about me. Anyway.....Here he comes. I just want to make sure for myself that I can tweak my writing style a bit. I am very humorous.You can read it, of course, and you can take it as an example of how not to write an original character. 

Anyone, here’s a thing I made for my kouhai, check that if you are more interested in canon characters. 

✏ Universe: Bungou Stray Dogs  ✏ Characters: Mikhail Bulgakov OC ✏ Word count: 3,094 (too many tbh) ✏ Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, drugs, smoking, and a dead animal.

Heart of a dog.

If there was a god above, then he must know how awful it felt to wake up in the morning. There was nothing as worthy of collective loathing as mornings. Extra sprinkles of revulsion get the mornings involving work. Mikhail covered his eyes when picking up the ringing phone. The light hurt him just as much as the idea of getting up from the bed. The ringing was tenfold louder and more annoying in his head, hitting the walls in his skulls like a smith’s hammer. Every sensation felt like an assault on his already shaky sanity.

“You have a patient in an hour,” said familiar voice on the line. Misha groaned. It wasn’t her voice that grinding on his nerves, it was the idea of having to do work today. The woman on the phone sighed with deliberate loudness just to let him know all about her frustration. She was the only person who could stand having him. Mostly because he payed her a pretty sum but that wasn’t the only reason.

“You have no option,” Nadejda reprimanded. There was a sound of typing on the other side, but it ceased quickly. “It’s Olga Danilovna.”

He took a deep breath. There was no mental exercise to prepare for that. “Dear, I don’t pay you for ruining my day the moment it begun.”

“Right, you pay me to do my job,” she spoke sternly. “And if my job ruins your day the moment it begins, I’m sorry, get a better life.”

“Understood, the blame is mine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You better be here in an hour.” Nadya hang up the phone first. The annoying sound of a call ending assaulted his hearing. The sensations of the outside were coming on too strong, they were attacking, they were frustrating. Everything was too sharp, too bright, too loud. His head was pounding with the reminders of how Misha had spent the last three days. It was nothing close to productive.

Mikhail got up from the bed with a groan of a man who was drinking for days straight. He wasn’t dry for an hour, as the saying was. He sighed, and groaned, and regretted the drinking. He would do it again. The clothes on the floor didn’t bother him. There was never anyone to pass judgement. There was never anyone to tell him to get his life together either. There was simply no one. Barefoot he walked across the room, picking up and collecting articles of clothing that would go in the wash now. There was an hour for him to get to the office, which wasn’t impossible, but it meant he had to move around his small apartment faster. And he doubted his mind and body could comprehend moving faster without sending the surroundings spinning. Everything was too overwhelming now. It wouldn’t get better for a while.

The cold water splashing against his face brought some sanity back. It felt good to be reminded the drinking had yet to kill him. It was nice to be reminded he had a job only he could do. It felt good that he was alive and capable of doing something. It was all a comforting lie to get over himself and his hangover.

The cold air of the outside smelled like that of a big and polluted city. The sounds were loud but distant, multiple but common. Nothing new was added to the picture he witnessed day after day. It’s an old painting he studied for hours, every stroke, every shade, every perspective too familiar. Nothing about it was new or surprising or remotely pleasant. It simply was and it was only ever changing in ways that didn’t matter. The city he got too familiar living in. The air, the sounds, the broken pavement underneath. The sun was hiding or finding comfort in the heavy grey clouds foretelling rain. The sun, too, didn’t want to see the city. This weather was for the better. The bright and shiny would sulk the mood. That would go against his already ruined day. Bulgakov stopped walking only to get the cigarettes out and start one. The smoke felt good in his lungs. It smelled better than the city too.

Fortunately, it didn’t start to rain while he was trying to get to his office on time. Doctor Bulgakov appeared in a somewhat acceptable state in. Unfortunately, he didn’t make it within the given time frame. And, unfortunately, there were no excuse for him available either.

“Late.” A stern, annoyed, but factual statement. The voice belonging to the woman of the hour. Mikhail shook of his coat and carelessly hung it. Nadejda was sitting at the receptionist table looking very annoyed herself, staring daggers at the other woman. Such were the days featuring Olga Danilovna.

“Hey there, Dan. It’s been a while,” Mikhail shifted his attention to the child in a wheelchair. He was a blonde boy, aged eleven, with a pet cage on his lap. The cage covered up with a blanket. By the size of it, Misha would guess it was fit for a rabbit.

“Hello, Doctor Misha,” the boy replied slowly, patting the blanket-covered cage as if the animal could feel it.

“I guess it’s your leg this time.”

“It hurts.” As honest as a child could be. Nothing wrong in admitting being in pain. Danila was staring at the wall mindlessly, repeating the same motions with his hand.

“Just hold on a little longer,” the doctor assured. “It will be over soon.”

Bulgakov unlocked the door to the examination office. It smelled the same as always: sickeningly familiar smell of disinfectant that turns sweet to senses over time. It smelled more like home that anything else. Nadya was always a good keeper. She kept his office as pristine as she kept his dirty secret. Well, the secret wasn’t awfully dirty but, as all secrets are, problematic to keep in check. It had to be controlled who knew and who didn’t. If too many people knew about it, life would become very uncomfortable very quick. And Mikhail was a person of comfort.

For the sake of formality, he put on white medical coat over his sweater. He took the cage off the boy’s lap and placed it on the table. Danila barely reacted to the change, dropping his hand on his lap the moment the cage was gone. Bulgakov peeked inside. Inside was, indeed, a rabbit.

“You really like animals, Doctor Misha. Where do you keep them all?” Danila asked. It was a gift of being a child to be so oblivious to the obvious.

“Me? No. I have a friend who lives on a farm. He adores them,” Bulgakov lied and did so naturally. At some point, he even thought of a name for said friend, how big the farm was and what animals lived there now. A well-repeated lie was a believable lie. The more it’s told, the more it turned into the truth of things. It wasn’t a stretch of intellectual thought to count all the pets that came into his office along with the patients and conclude a remarkably simple outcome: those pets never went home with him. But he wouldn’t break a child’s heart so cruelly. In six weeks, Dan’s leg would be perfectly healed. And the rabbit would be six weeks older. But six weeks is too long for his mother to wait. A broken bone is a note in the medical history of an upcoming sports star. Mikhail never bothered to remember what exactly Danila played.

Mikhail came to inspect the boy’s leg. The safest bet in his line of work is to assume the worst possible injury: broken. But on the plus size, it seemed to be broken only in one place.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on as tight as you can,” he said to the boy. Tiny hand grabbed around his neck without much force behind it. “On a count of three. One.” He carefully hooked his arms under Dan’s legs. “Two.” The doctor mentally braced himself. “Three.”

It wasn’t terribly difficult. It was only the weight of a child, after all. But Misha was having a terrible hangover and, thus, everything seemed more difficult than it should have been. Danila was now sitting on the exam table. Not that there was anything else to examine. And even if there was some injury unseen to the naked eye, he hardly had the equipment for it. Taking care of the child was a job for the mother. Bulgakov offered the headphones to the child. A useful thing to protect the child from a conversation that a child should not be privy to.

“Well, you know the drill, Dan,” Mikhail said, helping the boy to lie down comfortably on the table. “Headphones on, eyes closed, full relaxation.” The patient nodded, putting on the noise cancelling headphones on without questions. Danila was a good child just not equally blessed with good parents.

After making sure that Dan couldn’t hear a thing, Bulgakov returned to the rabbit in a cage. Lovely animal: calm, big, with a shiny fur. Misha took the rabbit in his arms and started to gently stroke the animal to calm it. It was warm, and alive, and completely defenseless.

“You look like you’ve been drinking for two days straight,” Olga Danilovna observed. Misha couldn’t tell if she was judging or simply stating. Not that he cared for either of those things, it was mere curiosity. He rarely could decipher any emotion within her unless it was anger and irritation.

After a quick mental math exercise, he forced a smile on his face. “Actually, it was three. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“You think you are funny,” she mocked him. “Nothing worse than a man thinking himself funny.”

“I thought there was nothing better than a man acting like a clown,” Misha replied, grinning. “And nothing worse than a man thinking himself awfully charming.”

Olga shook her head, fake blonde hair perfectly styled with too much spray, and rolled her eyes. And that was the end of that conversation. However, there was something else on Bulgakov’s mind, something he doubted was worth mentioning. After all, it wasn’t any of his business. The last thing he needed to do is to pass any judgment on people who paid him. It was an excellent advice, most importantly, it was an instruction he gave himself. He couldn’t be wrong about that. And so, he didn’t listen.

“You drugged him,” he stated simply. There was barely any judgement in his voice. There was no point in judging a client, least of all, a client that wouldn’t listen. But a warning wasn’t something Olga Danilovna would accept either. A challenge, however, she could listen to.

“I gave him painkillers, yes,” replied Olga.

“No, I expected painkillers, that’s why he wasn’t crying by the time I showed up. I am saying you drugged him. I noticed the slowness in his reaction time. I saw his eyes up close.”

“What did you expect me to do? He is still a boy and can’t handle pain very well.”

Bulgakov sighed. What was he expecting to get by starting this conversation, anyway? Danila was his patient and nothing more. And the only reason the kid even was a patient was because his mother could afford to pay. It really wasn’t any of his business. He should forget about it. Mikhail continued to stroke the animal in his arms, offering whatever little comfort he could. And taking in all the comfort the rabbit could provide. It was alive, and warm, and with a soft fur. It felt lovely to hold a rabbit in his arms.

“I have to ask, though,” Olda Danilovna started to speak again, “would you be able to treat a concussion?”

“A concussion? Are you serious, Ol’?” he could even tell why he was getting riled up. “He’s eleven. Get him into swimming or some other Olympic sport.” Never mind, after some quick digging, he remembered that he had a personal dislike towards Olga Danilovna. Money can buy a service; it cannot buy positive personal bias unless for testifying in court.

“And what of it? Even if he wins the Olympics and brings home gold, he will peak before he’s twenty-five and then what?” Olga crossed her arms on her chest. Cold-blue flame flickering in her eyes dangerously — a warning. “Be a PE teacher? A swimming coach? No, thank you. And answer my question, damn you.”

“Sure, I can,” Mikhail answered, giving up. Arguing with a woman such as herself would only bring headache. Her voice was as sharp as her glare. And he was still recovering after a hangover.

“Would a rabbit suffice?” she continued to question.

“Depends on the severity,” the man shrugged. The rabbit in his arms was acting like a perfect companion. Perhaps, whatever little comfort he could offer was just enough to keep it calm. “If there is an open wound gushing out blood from his head, then no, you’ll have to find something bigger.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there are plenty of stray dogs on the streets.”

“Screw you.”

“Understandable.”

Cutting the conversation short, Bulgakov took his seat behind the table. The rabbit still cradled in his arms. He knew the pain that would follow render him useless, he’d collapse on the floor and then live with the embarrassment of such memory. Not that he cared for it, but for the sake of formality. The pain intensified and was only made worse by the remains of the hangover. If it made his head pound and body feel weak, now he could safely say he knew exactly what getting hit by a car felt like. It was a pain to the tips of his fingers, clouding his mind, rendering him mute and weak. The only positive about this state was that he was familiar with this. It was a pain that never got better; it never got worse. It was stagnant and familiar, which means he got used to it over time, with each use. He learned to live with it. Today just happened to be a little worse due to careless hangover. His hand rested on the still warm rabbit’s fur.

“You can take him, Ol’,” Bulgakov rasped as if dying from thirst. “Nadejda Andreevna will process the payment.”

Olga Danilovna didn’t waste a second more, running up to her son and getting him up from the table. In a hurry she could pass for a warn and loving mother, she even examined the previously broken leg. She asked if anything hurt. Olga could pass for a caring mother and not a woman who wanted to live out her ambitions through her son. With his leg perfectly healed, Danila wheeled the chair himself.

“Thank you, Doctor Misha,” the boy said with a smile before leaving the room. His reactions were a little faster this time around.

Mikhail, however, barely had the mental capacity left free from the pain to comprehend the words and offer a reply. Nonetheless, he managed. “Be careful next time, Dan.” He offered a feeble wave of his hand before the boy left. When the door closed, Misha slouched on the table, resting his forehead against the cold wood. It was offering no relief whatsoever, but it felt grounding. A sensation to tether him to reality, otherwise, he would allow himself to drift away from it. The rabbit’s fur felt less warm. That was even less of a comfort. It stopped mattering the moment he picked his phone this morning.

It was all a little useless. Nothing but a play of a repentant man. One actor theatre: he is on stage and is the audience. He didn’t count seconds, cared not for minutes it took for Nadya to come in through the door with a glass of water. He heard the door opening, her light steps, but didn’t want to raise his head just yet.

“You’ll survive, right?” Nadejda asked with amusement in her voice. He was rendered useless, true, but not helpless.

“Bastards live a long life.” A glass was placed on his table. Mikhail chuckled, amused by the thought that rushed through his pounding head. “Careful, dear, I’ll start to think you are a warm and caring human being.”

“That will be your grave mistake,” she replied.

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Take your pills and, please, with water. It’s not in my interest for you to choke on them.”

“I shall.”

“You want me to take care of that?” she asked coldly, uncaring. That was why their arrangement was most perfect. That was why he hired her and why she remained by his side. There were few reasons why she could stand to work for such a horrible, irresponsible boss. Not only because he could pay her a pretty number. Not only because they were legally bound by a contract, preventing Nadejda from getting her hefty paycheck in case of Bulgakov’s strange death. It wasn’t only because she could keep her pretty mouth perfectly shut. But because Nadejda was aware of her self-serving nature and did not care. Nadejda Andreevna did not, in fact, care for anything but herself.

Mikhail placed the rabbit on the table and took out a cigarette from inside his pocket. He put one in his mouth. Nadya wordlessly offered a lighter. The smoke felt good inside his lungs: warm, calming, and perfectly harmful.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it,” Mikhail replied, evenly breathing out cigarette smoke. He reached in the drawer to get the pills out. Something to dull the pain, something to bring more senses back to life. Nadya was leaving the room in her usual catlike steps.

“You’ll lock up, right?” she asked, stopping in the doorway.

“Sure,” Misha nodded.

“See you when I see you.”

“Right back at ya.”

The door closed behind her. Soon, the office would be completely empty. He would leave, locking up for the day. Soon, the pain from his body would disappear completely, gone without a trace. His state would return to what it was when he woke up. Soon, there would be nothing bothering him but the hangover. The pounding would get less intense as time passed. By the end of the day, he should fell relatively fine. Soon, he would be heading home where he’d get to be as miserable as he felt like to be. Soon. Right after he would bury this obviously very dead rabbit on the table.

Long Way From Home [Part Five] | Arin Hanson X Reader

After almost 20 years, you finally find the childhood friend that you were forced to give up, but would reconnecting now be a good thing?

Word count: 1339

TW: mentions of blood/wounds

Your head hurt, your heart hurt, the palms of your hands stung and were covered in gravel and blood. Your wet clothes allowed the cold night air to bite. You couldn’t believe the seemingly never ending lies that your parents had told you, the rest of your family, Arin… 

What could you even believe anymore? Your life started feeling more and more like a sad cosmic joke.

“(Y/N), wait! (Y/N), I-...” Arin’s voice carried across the parking lot. He sounded frantic, almost like he was panicking. His footsteps started fast, but quickly slowed to a more hurried walk. By the time he was in front of you, they were slow and careful. You didn’t want to look at him anymore. Somehow, the gentle hand that he placed on your back made you cry harder. He could barely make out your words through the sobbing.

“I’m so sorry, Arin. I never wanted this. I never wanted to move away, I never wanted to leave you behind. They gave me no choice. They lied to you, they lied to both of us. I don’t know what’s real anymore, and I’m so sorry.” 

The hand on your back remained there for what felt like hours, the silence between you cutting deeper than the wounds on your hands. 

“You’re bleeding…”

“I’m blee-... fuck…” You finally took a good look at how bad your hands really were. Your palms were almost completely red, aside from the black spots of gravel that remained stuck in some places.

“There’s probably a first aid kit on the bus,” he offered. He sounded so nervous. He had been so excited and bubbly practically the whole day before this. It was almost unsettling. You nodded and wiped your eyes on your upper arm, allowing him to help you stand. The two of you made your way across the parking lot, your arms held out awkwardly to avoid bringing them into contact with anything.

It was a bit loud on the bus. Practically the whole group was chatting loudly about the night’s event, as well as the plans for their next destination. Someone was playing music from their phone and singing along. You stood awkwardly behind Arin as you entered, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

“Hey Vernon, pass me that first aid kit,” he cut in, gesturing to the small white box on a wall towards the back. The man you could only assume was Vernon removed the box from the wall and tossed it to Arin. “Great, thanks. I’m gonna be out for awhile. I’ll be back before we head out.”

“Two hours, homie!” you heard Dan yell from somewhere in the back that you couldn’t see. Arin gave a silent wave to the crowd of people on the bus before gesturing for you to step out. Unsure of whether you were ready to face your coworkers yet after your odd exit, you decided that going back to your jeep was the best course of action.

Despite the fact that they were covered in blood, your fingers were unscathed enough to press the unlock button and pop the trunk open. The two of you sat yourselves in the empty space of the trunk, making sure to face each other so it was easier to fix your hands. 

“Son of a motherfuck-!” Your teeth clenched together as the water poured over your hands, taking some of the blood and gravel with it as it flowed onto the ground. “God, that’s so much worse than I thought it was,” you admitted, forcing yourself to laugh. Several small, deep cuts littered your palms. 

“I’m gonna have to put pressure on this,” he pointed out. You nodded, confirming you were ready, and for him to get it over with. The thick pads of gauze pressed into your left hand, sandwiched between yours and Arin’s. His free hand brought the wrapping around your wrist and winding around the rest of your hand. The burning pain continued as he wrapped the other one. 

“What a fun night.” Arin glanced up at you, seeming to smile a bit at your sad attempt at a joke. When the last of the bandages were properly fastened, you flexed your fingers to test their limits. It wasn’t very much. “Do you want to talk about this? Or would you rather we just go our separate ways and pretend like none of this happened?”

“I mean, considering I basically chased you out here, I’d say it’s safe to assume I want to know what the hell’s going on.”

“You and me both,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 

“I really thought you were dead or something, and now I’m sitting in your car with you after you worked one of my events, like… what the fuck is- what happened to you?”

“God, where do I even begin…”

Exact details were difficult to remember. You tried to give him the bullet points, telling him how your parents sent you to your aunt’s, how you were never allowed to contact anyone but your aunt and those in your new school after you arrived, your aunt’s resentment towards you, her sudden death while you were away at college… the most difficult part to piece together was the truth about what your parents had done, and why they had done it.

You tracked the emotions that passed over Arin’s face while you rambled on about your life story. The confusion, the sympathy, the anger… none of this would’ve happened had your parents just waited three years for you to move out.

“They lied to everybody and cut you off from everyone that gave a shit about you just so they could live out their bullshit dreams of living without kids in fucking Europe? That’s actually fucking disgusting. They had a funeral for you. I grieved your fucking death. That’s a huge part of why I moved here a while after that. I couldn’t be there anymore because of what happened. I-...”

“They had a funeral?” 

The look on his face was painful to see. His expression seemed somewhat far-off, as if he was reliving those moments in his head.

“It was probably one of the worst days of my life,” he admitted. Tears started to well up in his eyes. Both of you were snapped out of your confusion and sorrow by the sudden buzzing coming from Arin’s pocket. You could hear the words ‘fucking kidding me’ muttered under his breath as he read the text. “There’s bad traffic. We have to leave early so we can make it to our next show on time.”

“Where is it?”

“Albuquerque. It’s tomorrow night, but we have a lot of prep and shit to do during the day.”

“I can be there,” you blurted out. The words were out before you had the chance to think about what you were saying. “Nope, nevermind. That’s fucking weird. Shouldn’t have said that, that’s-”

“It’s a seven hour drive, I can’t let you do that. You just worked over twelve hours.”

“Wait… you’re not like, weirded out that I said that?”

“I’m kind of weirded out by a lot right now, but getting more time with you is the best thing I can imagine right now.”

“Ok, um… maybe I can find a flight? It’s pretty last minute, I don’t know if I’d be able to get there-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll find you a flight and pay for the ticket. You worry about packing what you need to bring. Actually, shit, we have a day between tomorrow’s show and the one after that. If you have the next two days off we could… here, I’ll give you my number so we can talk more about this. I have to get back to the bus, but I really want to see you in Albuquerque tomorrow.” His last few sentences were rushed as he wrote his number on a strip of gauze with a sharpie he had in his pocket. “I’m glad you’re alive, (Y/N).”

radio show au (p5)

yall are thirsty

p4

*

Neil awoke to a rapping on his front door: Momentarily scared shitless, he scrambled out of bed, wished he had a gun, but resorted for a sweater over his thin white t-shirt and padded out into the hallway.

He glanced through the peephole and immediately unlocked the door.

“Andrew?” It was a Saturday night. Eight pm. Andrew was already meant to be at work. “What are you doing here?”

Silent, he nudged his way inside Neil’s flat and continued down the hallway. How he even knew what floor Neil lived on was a mystery: He locked the door anyway and tucked his hands into their sleeves, following Andrew out into his living room.

The man in question was gazing around with mild distaste, and Neil flushed. “How long have you lived here?”

“Almost a year.” He wiped sleep from his eyes and tried to flatten his hair. “I know, it looks empty and lifeless. Dan and Matt never shut up about it: It’s why they got me the rug. I just don’t see the need for material possessions.”

Andrew’s foot nudged the rug in question. It was blue and fluffy, with odd shapes. Neil liked it: It was soft.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to judge my home.” Neil said flatly, crossing his arms. “I have to leave for work in half an hour anyway. Speaking of, shouldn’t you be at yours?”

Andrew looked out onto the balcony, where there was only a plastic chair and a bowl for cigarette butts. “I got there. Then left.”

“Andrew, what’s wrong?” Neil stepped a little closer.

He took out his phone, pressed a few buttons, and then held the thing so carelessly Neil though it’d fall out of his hand.

“Andrew. It’s Wymack. I want you and Neil in the prime weekday slots, every evening. I’ll give you until Friday to give me an answer.”

Neil sighed. “I told you to keep an open mind.”

“You told me to keep an eye out.” Andrew reminded him. “That did not entail getting hounded.”

Neil simply glared. “One voicemail isn’t hounding. All you need to do is think on it: It’s an opportunity. One you shouldn’t miss.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Wymack.” Andrew reached out and curled his fingers into the collar of Neil’s shirt. Neil wasn’t scared. “You’re the problem. I don’t know what to do with you.”

“What, because I believe in you?” Neil accused.

Andrew’s brow furrowed as he leaned closer, lips turned into a snarl.

“Have you always been so self-destructive?” Neil wondered. “Because you always act preemptively, as though the world is out to get you. Did it ever occur to you that -”

Andrew shoved a hand over his mouth. “Shut up. Yes or no?”

“Am I shutting up or answering the question?” Neil spoke through his fingers: Andrew removed his hand to pinch Neil’s chin between his forefinger and his thumb.

“I hate you.” Andrew growled, leaning up to press a bruising kiss to Neil’s lips. It was chaste, Andrew retreated just as abruptly as he’d arrived, but he was warm, his skin softer than Neil expected. Neil wasn’t sure what he expected but it really wasn’t this. He kept his hands balled into fists at his side, an unbeknownst suspicion that this all rested very gently on a scale of Andrew’s tolerance: Getting handsy would be the last thing Andrew wanted.

“Think on that.” He said blithely, and marched out of Neil’s flat.

He stood, blinking like a goldfish, unable to rid himself of the memory of Andrew’s lips upon his own. It’d been unexpected but not unwelcomed.

Neil didn’t have time to dwell on it now. He had to get to work.

*

Wymack had rectangular frames perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down a schedule, pinned to his clipboard. Neil manned Allison’s lines, sitting cross-legged on an office chair whilst he fiddled with the sound board and managed the contestants across two different phones.

Dan, having just completed her hourly news update, was perusing the news for more. She was lounging across the well-worn loveseat in the sound studio, humming gently as she searched.

Allison held a contest every friday evening, something pop-culture related that Neil didn’t particularly care about. He was there to accumulate contestants to participate and queue music as Allison grilled her latest victims on their ignorance.

“Anything?” Neil asked, when one woman was on hold.

Wymack looked at him and shook his head.

Neil hummed softly, displeased. It was Friday, the window Wymack having provided for Andrew closing rapidly. Neil had suspected that there had been more truth to his words on Saturday than he’d initially suspected: Now he’d pushed Andrew away. 

It was fine. He didn’t need to be the centre of attention anyway, nor did he need the pay rise. 

And yet - 

Hosting with Andrew had felt natural. Everything about Andrew had felt natural, from teasing over the phone when he called in, meeting him for the first time, meeting up with his the dozens of times afterwards, and then finally sitting across from one another at the sound booth and spending hours talking about anything and everything, good music filling the not-awkward silences between conversations. 

The door slammed open, and Neil couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he glanced over his shoulder. Speak of the damned devil. 

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.” Andrew warned. “If Kevin finds out about this I’m quitting.”

Wymack rolled his eyes, going back to his clipboard. Dan didn’t have the same caliber of indifference, glaring at Andrew with abject distaste. “Minyard? Is that really you?”

“The one and only.” Wymack grunted. 

“Can someone explain why the psycho freak from college is here in our station studio?”

“Neil’s leaving with me.” Andrew said, aptly ignoring Dan’s confusion. “Give him the night off.” 

“Thank god.” Wymack acknowledged. “I can’t get rid of him.”

“I don’t need to -” Neil protested, but it was too late: Andrew had hooked his fingers in the sleeve of his jumper and dragged him towards the door. 

Neil let himself be funnelled into Andrew’s car, which was sleek and far more expensive than his salary would permit. They’d both agreed on don’t-talk-about-past rule, but maybe there would need to be a little more censure if there was going to be a this.

“What are we doing?” Neil inquired lightly, intrigued. When Andrew didn’t answer, he twisted in his seat to look at him. “Come on.”

“Shut up.” Andrew said, lacking his usual edge. Neil hummed, switching on the radio and settling into his chair. 

Allison’s voice filled the space between them as she introduced a new song. Or, an old song.

“We can’t start the weekend right without some Mac, can we?” 

Neil pushed his knuckles into his lip, trying not to laugh as the music filtered out of Andrew’s speakers. 

tell me, tell me, tell me lies:

tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies

“She thinks she’s funny.” Andrew huffed. 

“She knows she’s funny.” Neil objected. Andrew simply responded with a dismissive flick of his fingers. 

They swerved into the parking lot of a HomeDepot, which was close to closing. Neil dawdled behind Andrew and his trolley, ignoring the man as he picked out a lamp and a fluffy blanket. The trolley filled with stuff like cutlery and mugs, candles and photo-frames. 

Only when Andrew paused by the throw pillows did Neil ask what the hell the man thought he was doing. 

“I’m trying to decide which pillow matches your rug more.”

Neil gave him a quizzical look. 

“You’ve been living in that place for a year and it feels like a storage unit. Choose.” He pointed between two square pillows that were pretty much the same, and when Neil started fighting him, he chose instead. Neil tittered angrily all the way to the counter. 

“Keep whining and I’ll make you pay.” Andrew warned. 

Then Neil threw a fit about Andrew paying for his own house decor, but he was having none of it, pinching Neil’s wrist when he reached for his wallet. 

“You guys are adorable.” The cashier commented, sheepishly apprehensive when Andrew turned a glare on her. Neil gave her an apologetic shrug when Andrew stalked off, running after him. 

“This really was unnecessary,” Neil started again. 

Andrew pointed a butter knife they’d bought at him. “Quiet.”

“But -” 

“Shh.”

Neil huffed. 

*

Andrew had pretended not to notice Neil’s stares all evening. The way his gaze had changed since last Saturday. He didn’t want to point it out. Pointing it out was acknowledging that something was different and that they should act on it, and right now Andrew could only deal with one major change at a time. 

Namely, his job. 

After all this time avoiding presenting, he’d upped and got himself a prime-time slot anyway. It was a curse. 

The shitty movie they’d been watching dawdled to a close, credits scrolling down the screen. Neil was fast asleep on the couch beside Andrew, tiny snores infuriatingly adorable. 

They’d gone out to HomeDepot, then come home and set everything up. It was, in Andrew’s humble opinion, far better. Neil had photos for the frames, tucked away in a drawer, and Andrew had lit the candles to smother the scent of mildew with something more fresh. 

They’d ordered takeout, queued a movie, and spent the almost two hours paying absolutely no attention to it. Neil’s eyes had barely moved off Andrew’s cheek, and Andrew was zoned out completely, shocked by how comfortable this domesticity was. 

He’d like to have blamed chance for having this all work out, but he didn’t believe in fate. He’d picked up that phone and called Neil’s radio station. He’d rocked up after his shift with coffee and zero expectations. He’d chosen to come back, time and time again, just to see the knowing glint in his blue eyes. 

Now he was here. 

“Josten,” He said quietly. Neil stirred but didn’t wake, shifting in his sleep. 

Andrew sighed, getting up from the couch and collecting empty containers. Neil was still asleep by the time everything was clean, despite Andrew’s efforts to be loud. He had to be truly exhausted: He’d mentioned once he was a light sleeper. 

Carefully, he fitted Neil’s head against his shoulder and scooped up his legs with his other arm, slowly traversing over to Neil’s room. Andrew had never been in here, cautious as he shouldered the room open. 

Careful, gentle, cautious: None of these words could be used to describe Andrew. And yet, it was all he could fathom being, laying Neil down on his bed. 

His room was a little messy. Untidy sheets, a sock hanging off the washing basket, oddities strayed across surfaces. Scar cream, cologne, deodorant, a pair of running shoes peeking out from under the bed frame. Andrew shut the grey curtains and toed out of the room, refusing to look back at Neil’s sleeping figure before he left. 

This was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Let yourself heal, Betsy had once said. 

Look at me now, Bee, he thought scathingly, giving the apartment a once over before he left. Finally proud?

*

That night, Andrew couldn’t sleep. He’d already quit at the bar, but he wasn’t starting at FM-OX until Monday. Neil’s last night shift was tonight, seeing as Wymack wanted him to get a full night’s rest tomorrow night for Monday. 

He laid on his bed until the thought of trying to sleep had his scars itching, so he got up and snatched his car keys from the bench. 

He didn’t bother with shoes but pulled on an extra hoodie, pattering down the stairs till he arrived at the garage. The smell of leather lacquer and fuel was comforting. He let himself sit in the driver’s seat for a little while, till he grew bored and started the engine. 

He had a quarter of a tank left: He’d drive till he needed to refill before going home. At first the silence, underlined only by the muffled roars of the engine, was cleansing. As always, he found his fingers reaching for the radio dial. 

“...You all better be safe out on the roads right now, going to or coming home from work.” Neil said. “Don’t need to be doing traffic reports at this hour, do I? Anyway, this next track is by a brand-new artist, heralding from Augustus, our neighbouring city...”

Andrew let the tension bleed out of him as Neil’s voice washed over him. By the time he’d filled up the tank and driven back to the garage, he was well sleepy, and had been listening to Neil for hours. 

Before he could even acknowledge what he was doing, he was on the phone to FM-OX’s line, his phone at his ear. 

“Neil Josten’s Mid-Nights,” Neil opened. 

“Goodnight, junkie.” Andrew muttered. 

The man’s voice softened. “Andrew. Hey.”

“You’ve got that look on you, don’t you. Quit it.”

“Rude.” Neil snorted. “Goodnight, Andrew.”

Andrew hummed and hung up, clambering out of the car. 

He’d be lying to himself if he said Neil’s voice wasn’t comforting. He tuned into the chanel from his phone, put it on charge, and let the mellifluous tones lull him to sleep.

*

we’re almost there i promiseeeeeee

watch out ive got a lot: 1, 3, 5, 13, 14, 20, 24, 29, 36, 45, 71, 72, 74, 91, 95, 102, 108, 113, 129, 135, 144. and here‘s a bonus: tell me about the most atrocious outfit you ever wore and why you were wearing it 🌿

Holy shit, thats a lot.

Ok, here we go, buckle in...

Who was the last person I held hands with? My wife, unsurprisingly enough haha. Although we don’t actually hold hands often.

Who am I looking forward to seeing? It would be nice to meet up with the twins after this pandemic crap has calmed down. Its been a while. And seeing Lexi would be good.

If I was drunk, would the person I like take care of me?

You mean... my wife? My wife, the nurse? Also I’m an ex alcoholic, I don’t drink enough to get drunk anymore, as much as I sometimes want to.

Do I like when people play with my hair? Hm... yes, I do. But only people I trust. Apparently its good to braid.

Do you believe in luck and miracles? In terms of magical interferance from fate? No. But I am somewhat supersticious. I suppose I believe in luck, but not miracles.

Do I like my neighbours? 

There’s a young lesbian couple upstairs who are great, and the old man across the hall is strangely endearing in a grumpy old person sort of way. The family underneath us who smoke inside the building and yell at all hours? No, not so much.

Favourite part of my daily routine? Not sure. Wouldn’t entirely say I have much of a set routine. Cooking dinner can be nice if I have the energy. Waking up early and just laying in bed, or doing nothing in the evening is also nice. And working out, I enjoy that.

Have any of my exes told me they regret breaking up? No. I tend to fall out of contact with people I’m no longer in a relationship with. And then my most recent ex made it VERY clear she wanted me gone. I know I’ve wished things had gone differently with some of them in the past... I’ve told one of those stories... I’m happy now though.

Have I ever liked someone and never told them?

I am a bisexual man raised by bigoted parents. Of course I have. I’ve liked people and not even told MYSELF that I liked them.

What makes me get out of bed in the morning? I go stir crazy if I don’t. Its also necessary for looking after my family.

Craving something? What? Actually yes, I’ve been craving fruit ice-lollies lately. What are they called... those Calippo things? No fucking clue why.

How many pillows do I sleep with? I have teo on my side of the bed, so one or two.

How many stuffed animals do I think I have? None. Never have, past age 3 ish.

Is there anyone I want to punch in the face right now?

The Fucker comes to mind first. Ususally there’s someone I’m pissed at, but it changes frequently.

Last movie I watched? Oh it would have been a while ago... Crimson Peak I think? On Netflix.

Do I regret anything from my past?  Seriously? You’re seriously asking me that? Yes. A lot.

What should I be doing? Like... what? Things I’m meant to be doing right now? Nothing really, its a lazy day.

What was my childhood nickname? Uh... the only thing I can think of is Danny... I mean Dan is technically a nickname too.

What’s my zodiac sign? Libra. Just turned 36. Getting old.

Dumbest lie I ever told? 

I’m sure I must have tried to tell stupid lies when I was very small, but I suppose I learnt pretty quickly that I’d be punished wether I lied or told the truth. I got more satisfaction out of looking the bastard in the eye and being honest. And a dumb lie in my job can be fatal so they tend not to happen.

Dark, milk or white chocolate? Milk or white. Dark tastes like someone turned soot into a chocolate bar. Milk is the best middle ground.

And to answer your “bonus question”; I consider the horrible formal clothes I was forced into as a nipper to be horrific. But I guess I wore that sort of thing for my wedding so maybe its just my memories of it. I vaguely remember wearing a variety of absolutely awful stag-do type outfits (cheap wigs and costumes and the like) for various birthdays, stag nights, and hazing type events.

Oh god the hangovers...

Thank you for the ask, Feo. You certainly put the effort into that haha.

Why Jonsa does not work in the books.

This post is where starts the conflict. Jonsa thoughs. My toughts.

What makes a lot o people ship Jon x Sansa is because of the show, and I can understand it. Ship what you want. It's your right.

It does not mean that people can lie about what happens in the books, or what is cannon by GrrM himself.

D&D gave part of Arya's history and traits to Sansa in the show. Fact.

Jeyne Poole was using Arya's name. She was the one that was abused by Ramsay Balton. This false Arya was the one that the North went into a War, and the one that made Jon Snow break his vows. It was not Sansa who Jon fought and died for.

Ship what you want. You are free to ship. Making paralelles about Cat and Ned with Jonsa. Okay. I am a Jonrya shipper. I make parallels of Jonrya and Lyanna/Rhaegar and Alyssane/Jaehaerys. We are passionate shippers after all, in a fandom where morality is not a big deal the most part of time. You have a mean to make your point, then use it.

But whatever. GrrM said that the show and the books are like different universes. Words of the author. You can't discuss that.

What I can NOT take is people lying about canonic things, and my mind explodes when I read a lot of lies of the books to justify Jonsa.

Like Sansa is Jon's type. Like Jon remembers of Sansa when he met Ygritte. Like Jon and Sansa were always close. Lies!

He compares Ygritte to Arya, tought he addmit they don't even look alike, he never, never tought about Sansa while with Ygritte. He compares Val to Arya.

"They had always been close. Jon had their father’s face, as she did. They were the only ones. Robb and Sansa and Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with easy smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her." (Jon, A Game of Thrones).

"And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him." (Jon, A Game of Thrones)

"The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north." (Jon, A Game of Thrones) 

"Gods of my fathers, protect these men. And Arya too, my little sister, wherever she might be. I pray you, let Mance find her and bring her safe to me." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

"Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

“I have no sister.” The words were knives.

"The girl smiled in a way that reminded Jon so much of his little sister that it almost broke his heart." (Jon, A Dance with Dragon)

"What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister? "(Jon, A Dance with Dragons)

The Ygritte comparation:

“Jon could see fear and fire in her eyes. Blood ran down her white throat from where the point of his dirk had pricked her. One thrust and it’s done, he told himself. He was so close he could smell onion on her breath. She is no older than I am. Something about her made him think of Arya, though they looked nothing at all alike. “Will you yield?” he asked, giving the dirk a half turn. And if she doesn’t?” - Jon VI, ACoK 

“Ygritte watched and said nothing. She was older than he’d thought at first, Jon realized; maybe as old as twenty, but short for her age, bandy-legged, with a round face, small hands, and a pug nose. Her shaggy mop of red hair stuck out in all directions. She looked plump as she crouched there, but most of that was layers of fur and wool and leather. Underneath all that she could be as skinny as Arya.” - Jon VI, ACoK

“Ygritte trotted beside Jon as he slowed his garron to a walk. She claimed to be three years older than him, though she stood half a foot shorter; however old she might be, the girl was a tough little thing. Stonesnake had called her a “spearwife” when they’d captured her in the Skirling Pass. She wasn’t wed and her weapon of choice was a short curved bow of horn and weirwood, but “spearwife” fit her all the same. She reminded him a little of his sister Arya, though Arya was younger and probably skinnier. It was hard to tell how plump or thin Ygritte might be, with all the furs and skins she wore.” - Jon II, ASoS

“If you kill a man, and never mean t’, he’s just as dead,” Ygritte said stubbornly. Jon had never met anyone so stubborn, except maybe for his little sister Arya. Is she still my sister? he wondered. Was she ever?” - Jon III, ASoS

When he received the letter of Ramsay

"Jon saw no reason not to tell him. “Moat Cailin is taken. The flayed corpses of the ironmen have been nailed to posts along the kingsroad. Roose Bolton summons all leal lords to Barrowton, to affirm their loyalty to the Iron Throne and celebrate his son’s wedding to…” His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King’s Landing, with Father."

"Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton’s bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she’ll fight him."

"His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton’s throat as easily." (Jon, a Dance with Dragons).

"Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard’s heart. He’d had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo’s blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he’d told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life." (Jon, A Dance with Dragons).

• In books the quote “Love is the death of duty” by Maester Aemon is used when Jon decidesld break his vows from nights watch to save “Arya”. Arya is the character Jon loves the most and he thinks on her in every moment.

He dies thinking about Arya:

"Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whitspered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold…" (Jon, A Dance with Dragons).

George's Interviews:

“At some points, when [Game of Thrones showrunners David Benioff and Dan Weiss] and I had discussions about what way we should go in, I would always favor sticking with the books, while they would favor making changes,” he said. “I think one of the biggest ones would probably be when they made the decision not to bring Catelyn Stark back as Lady Stoneheart. That was probably the first major diversion of the show from the books and, you know, I argued against that, and David and Dan made that decision.” - Time Magazine, 2017

“You have to remember that I started writing this story in 1991 and I first met David and Dan in 2007. I was living with these characters and this world for 16 years before we even started working on the show. They’re pretty fixed in my mind and I’m not going to change anything because of the show, or reaction to the show, or what fans think. I’m just still writing the story that I set out to write in the early 1990s.” - Time Magazine, 2017

My conclusion:

Like I said before. You are free to ship everyone, but not lie about Canon things written by George RR Mantin himself. This is the canonic verse. Jon and Samsa rarely think of each other. Sansa was always distant from him, she regreats it later, but still is a fact. I am not an anti-Sansa. She is not my favorite, i addmit, but anti, for me, is somente idiot that says stupid arguements with insults just to put another character in glory, only because they dislike another, and even refuse to aguement as adults. In another words, those antis are childsh.

There is a lot of people saying that Jon would be good for Sansa and take him out of her is something cruel, as everything that is good for her is fanservice. We agree in disagree. There is no way we could try taking Jon from Sansa, if he was not hers in first place. Like I said, they rarely think of each other, she bullied him when they lived together, she kept distance following Cat's personal opinion. Sansa's fault? No. She was a child seeing her mother's opinions, and following it. It does not change what she have done. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying that Jon hates her, but the memories he shares with Sansa during his childhood are not the best. It doesn't mean they won't get along. They will! Of course they will, by all they could know, they would be the lasts of the Starks alive. Sansa might go to Winterfell in TWoW before Arya. Would they get closer? Probably. Will they share the same bond showned on TV show? No. This is bad for her? No. She would be home, with her family. This is bad to you? Sounds terrible? Does it sounds harsh?

Like, other thing that I hate about Jonsa-stans (just a part of them) justifies that she needs someone to make her happy. With all respect, if you think this way about Sansa, you do not like her. Not really. Sansa is much more complex of a character to say that only a romantic relationship with a man could make her happy. She does not need someone else in a romantic way to make her happy. She passed through a hell in King's Landing, and Petyr actions with her can be described only as disgusting. To say the only good thing that could happen to her is a man, you are reducing her character to a simple one. Everything she wants it's to go home. She is smart, kind and clever. Sansa is making Petyr Baelish play in her hands. I don't want Sansa to end up alone. She deserves a lot. She is really strong, in so many ways. Her strengh is not like Arya, Ygritte or Val. It's subtle and delicate, like Margaery in someway. Sansa deserves a man who respects her, a man who loves her with all his heart, a man that carries for her the same way Jon carries for Arya. Uconditionally.

Other thing that I hear is that Jonsa stans always says that, we, Arya-stans, look to Jonsa as threat to Arya, and we all get mad about it. I can't talk in the name of the others. For me, fuck the show. I don't care. I don't even look at the show as part of GrrM work anymore. But what gets me mad as an Arya stan, and a Jonrya shipper is not Jonsa itself. They had chemistry on screen, but in the books they don't have any of it. This is what gets me mad.

It's trying to stole something that belongs to Jon and Arya alone that gets me mad. One of the strongest and purest bonds I have ever seen in books or screen. It doesn't belong to Sansa all this devotion. It's not canon in the books, and annoys me to see tons of people lying and self inserting Sansa in Jon's heart just because they want the books to happen the same way in the show. Forget it. It's not going to happen. A lot of other characters and relationships have been destroyed by D&D, not only Jon & Arya. Write and read fanfics. Ship whatever the hell you want, but don't lie about cononic things. If Jon and Arya get along as a romantic couple or not, does not change that this bond is theirs. Sansa has her own history in the books. Her own importance. She wil be part to take Winterfell back, not the same way she did on the show, but she will be a big part of it. And she is a Stark! The end! Sansa is a southern lady in many ways, but she is Sansa Stark and a princess by her own right, dammit! She says it herself that her strengh comes from the walls within Winterfell!

Thank you to read. I have to be greatful to another posts that helped me to write it. I have to say sorry about my grammar. English is not my first language, but I hope what I wrote was clear to understand. See you soon.

45

Have you ever started reading a book and wondered if you’d read it before? yes i have. What has been bothering you a lot lately? the fact that i’m sick and super behind on all of my homework but can’t do anything about it. What (or who) have you been missing lately? i’ve been missing home lately since i’m going home this weekend for the first time in a few months. Are you trustworthy? i’d like to believe so. Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? they never specified but i was taught that lies in general are bad. Have you ever hallucinated? yes. Do you sleep with your door open or closed? i sleep with my bedroom door open, but i sleep with my dorm door closed. What flags do you have in your room, if any? i don’t have any flags. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? i’d probably say beginning to play music in fourth grade, as that really set me down the path that i’m on right now as a student in music school. What is the worst decision you ever made? probably beginning to let my anxiety control me -- it led me down a path that i’m still recovering from, a year later. Do you miss college? no, given that i’m in college right now... Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? i once called my french teacher “mom” because i accidentally said “madame” without the d so it sounded like “ma-ame” = “mom.” What is your favorite arcade game? probably skee-ball. i used to play that all the time growing up. Do you feel neglected? no. What school subject(s) are/were your best? definitely french and english. Are you allergic to grass? no. Do you remember to water plants? no... hence why i don’t own plants anymore. What season is your birthday in? it’s in fall. Name 3 creative people you know. my friend sophie, my friend danielle, and my friend dan. Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. i’d say aspen ovard, jasmine from tbhstudying, and ava jules. What color was your first car? i’ve never owned a car. What year did you graduate? i graduated this year, 2020. When was the last time you saw the person you currently have feelings for? last saturday. Have you ever been scammed? yes. Are you allergic to pollen? yes :( What style of wedding dress do you like best? probably ballgown. Are you over your first love? i’m like 90% there. Do you talk on the phone a lot? pretty often. Would you rather call or text? probably text. Do you always answer your phone? no, i only answer if i recognize the number. When was the last time you went to a party? there really haven’t been any parties since quarantine started, but my friend did have a birthday in may, so probably then. What was the last thing you ate? chicken noodle soup. What’s the last book you checked out from the library? i checked out like nine books, all young adult fantasy. Do you have a twitter? no. If so, what was the last thing you tweeted? nothing. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? the guy i’m seeing. What’s the last thing you cooked on the stove? pancakes. What color is the cover of the last notebook you used? white and gold. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? a girl on my snap. Who sent the last e-mail you got? my flute professor responding to my email about a rental. What song is currently stuck in your head? “look what you made me do” by taylor swift Do you have a favorite shape? probably circle. What color are the sheets on your bed? at home, they’re yellow. in my dorm, they’re pink, What time do you usually go to bed? usually, i go to bed between 11 and 12. Do you ever use coloring books? no. Are you planning on watching the Olympics? when they actually happen, yes. Do you pronounce the word “often” with or without a “t” in the middle? with the t. Have you ever been on a trapeze? no. Do you enjoy popping bubble wrap? yes of course. Are there any waterfalls near where you live? no. Do you like seafood? not particularly -- i do like shrimp, though. Have you ever had to wear a uniform for anything? yes, for marching band. If so, what did it look like? it was a maroon jacket, black bibbers, black long socks, black marching shoes, white gauntlets, white gloves, and a maroon shako. and under we had to wear our tour shirts and spandex/leggings. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? yes, my dad is. Do you own a Polaroid camera? nope. Do you enjoy baking? i love baking! What’s your favorite type of flower? right now, daisies. Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? home from florida. Do you know anyone who is left-handed? i have a couple left-handed friends and family members. What is something you think is underrated? probably classical music. too many people think it’s boring but there are some really amazing pieces. Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? probably around 85 degrees. In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? i expect covid to not be as big of an issue. How often do you travel outside of the state/province you live in? probably around once a month at most. What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? definitely reading. i used to read all the time, and now i just don’t have the time or motivation. What has been your favorite job you’ve had so far? i’ve never had a job. What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? probably guacamole. Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? i don’t have a car. Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? alaska. Farthest south? florida. East? russia. West? again, alaska. How often do you run the dishwasher? at my house, we run the dishwasher every night. Do you wash your face at the sink or in the shower? i wash it in the shower. Name a stereotype about your gender that you don’t fit. i don’t enjoy wearing dresses whatsoever. Name a stereotype about your age that you don’t fit. i don’t have any interest in trying drugs or smoking. Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? we have a “butler” named jeeves, a family of elephants on a window sill facing away from the front door for good luck, and a couple other things. Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? we have a panini maker and other things like that. What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? my mom majored in psychology while my dad majored in business. Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? nope. What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? precalculus. How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? probably around 7. How old were you when you learned how to swim? i’d say 10ish. How do you react when someone is rude to you? i get annoyed but try to remain sweet and kind so i don’t stoop to their level/they don’t have anything against me. Have you ever had a friend who was too clingy? yes, and it was annoying. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? probably snowstorms/blizzards. Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? i hate winter because it’s cold and depressing. Do you have a Netflix account? yes. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? yeah, occasionally that happens. Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? i enjoy traveling to europe since there’s so much history there. How long does it take to get there? it’d be about a six hour flight. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? this fall when i started college. What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? i’d say our downstairs bathroom -- i never use that bathroom. What is the last random act of kindness you did? i can’t really remember since i’ve been alone and sick for the past few days. Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? not really... Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? yes, but if it’s some type of body part (like liver) then no. Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? no. Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? nope. Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? not currently. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? no. If your Facebook status doesn’t get any likes/comments, does it bother you? i never post on facebook. Which friend do you confide in most? the guy i’m seeing haha. Do you wear a cross? no. What is your opinion on Arby’s? it’s good and their fries are amazing. When you have your own kitchen, how will it be done? i’d like an island definitely, and lots of counter space. i’d want it to be an open layout too. What is your favorite doughnut? probably jelly. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? no way. Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? i have never read the entire series or been interested in it. What is your favorite party game? wii party or cards against humanity. Do you or your parents rake your yard? my parents do. Were you pro-Obama? nope, but i couldn’t vote anyway. What is your favorite scent from Bath & Body Works? i think a thousand wishes?  What was the last illegal thing you did? probably speeding when i was driving. Who did you last go to the movies with? i think my sister, her boyfriend, and my ex. What color was the last vehicle you were in? white. Do you have any family members in the military right now? nope. Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? no. When was the last time you wished time would move faster? during my class earlier today. Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? nope. Have you ever heard voices? Audibly? no. Do you believe in angels and demons? yes. Who is the worst neighbor you have ever had? we have neighbors that accuse us of things we don’t do and get into fights with us over stupid things. Did your Barbies go on dates? yes! If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? i’m straight. Where did you meet your first crush? school. Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? nope. Do you ever go places with wet hair? occasionally, but i try not to. Who is your favorite little girl? probably my cousin. What do you want the most in life? happiness. What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? my college decision. Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you? occasionally, yeah. When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? yep, i keep it closed and locked. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? maybe ariana grande. What are your top 3 favorite genres of music? classical, jazz, and electroswing. Where did you buy your dishes from? i’m pretty sure my mom gets them from williams-sonoma. Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime? not in my lifetime. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money? probably some type of appliance that i never use. What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? my shower shoes! Have you ever been on a ship? yeah. Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media? nope. Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? i don’t know what you’re talking about lol. Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes? maybe dumbledore from harry potter? i can’t think of anyone off the top of my head. What’s a class you did not take in school, but now wish you had? forensic sciences. Have you ever been to either of your parents’ workplaces? all the time. What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy? no... not every size is healthy bruh. Have you ever been bitten so hard that their teeth marks were there after? yes. Ever been given a hickey? (Love bite) yeah. Ever gave one? nope. Are you more of an outgoing type or shy type? more shy. Do you think it’s weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner? nah. Are you self conscious? If so what are you self conscious about? a lot, but mainly my height and paleness. Are you flirty at all? sometimes. Are you racist at all? no. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) depends on the disability, but more likely than not, no. If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do? probably look around for parents, and if they’re not there, contact authorities. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? i’d rather have my own. What would you class as cheating on someone? purposefully seeking a romantic relationship/interaction with another person. Do you try to be politically correct? i try to. What’s your favorite kind of sea critter? maybe starfish. Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before? no. As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? hoops! Do you find P.E. humiliating, or think schools shouldn’t teach it? i don’t think it’s humiliating, but from my experience, i don’t know if it’s worth teaching. Do you recycle? yeah. Are you interested in current world issues? for the most part. Do you think you are mature, or immature? mostly mature. What kind of career are you interested in? i’m interested in teaching or performing music. Do you own a pair of sunglasses? yes. Do you use bobby pins, hair clips, or elastic hair ties? Which? i use all of the above. How badly do you get acne? (If at all) i barely get any acne. What’s the best way to cope with a breakup? remember all the things you hated about them and distract yourself. also, a glow-up and showing off your successes never hurts. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? probably because they think i’m egotistical. How many text messages do you have in your inbox atm? 72. When was the last time you had a difficult decision to make? probably deciding whether or not i should stay with the guy i’m seeing. In school, what subjects do/did you find the most difficult? math! Do you still speak to the person you had your first kiss with? not really. Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with? here at college. Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook? a kid from my theory class. Who was the last person that asked if you were okay? my roommate, because i’ve been unhealthy. What does your handwriting look like? it’s pretty bubbly and very neat. Do you use any products on your hair, other than shampoo and conditioner? yes, i use dry shampoo and dry conditioner. Who were your best friends in primary school? lindsey. Do you still speak to any of them? nope. What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine? i think candy. What color hair did your first crush have? blond. What type of shoes do you find the most comfortable? moccasins! Are you more masculine or feminine? more feminine, definitely. If you could design your own mug, what would you put on it? something minimalist, like a tiny illustration. What is the best beach you’ve been to? the beach at ocean city, maryland. What is one thing you physically can’t do? i cannot do a pull-up, nope. Have you ever been to a funeral? yep. Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building? no. Have you ever visited your nation’s capitol building? yes. Do/did you have a favorite seat in church? yeah, the one on the left close to the front. What is your favorite park? probably six flags? or disney? Have you ever felt an earthquake? nope. Do you chew gum regularly? no. Where did you go on your first train ride? i think when i was a baby. Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? yep. What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) i don’t root for any sports teams. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? no ma’am. What is something you are confident about? my eye color. Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What? i’ve been addicted to afrin during colds, but i always manage to tear myself away. How do you feel about needles? they’re not great, but i’m not particularly scared of them. What is your favorite accent to listen to? i love scottish accents. What was the reason you last got dressed up? church. Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? not really. ^ What were they? -- Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? more form-fitting. ^ What about on your preferred gender? more form-fitting as well. What do you do when you are really, really mad? i go somewhere to be alone so i can cool off. Would you rather go naked than wear fur? i’d rather wear fur, but i wouldn’t like it. Do you put a line through your 7’s? no. ^ What about your Z’s? nope. What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable? cheat on me if we’re in a relationship. Are you able to forgive and forget? it’s hard, but sometimes. Do you like cold pizza? no. What is your favorite fruit? pineapple! What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit? white grape juice has my heart. Do you like broccoli and cheese? i’ve never had it but it sounds yummy. What about potatoes and cheese? oh yeah that’s good. Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom? yep, to the guy i’m seeing. Toaster or toaster oven? toaster. What are you most known for? being a musician haha. Do you have any reputations? What are they? i don’t believe so. Do you wear band shirts? nope. ^ What band was on the last one you wore? -- Do you own any hats? Describe them. yeah, i own a black adidas cap and a white cap. What about masks, you got any? Describe those. oh, i have plenty... thanks covid. i have a black one, a white one, a pink one, a brown one, a green camo one, and a blue floral one. What was the last thing to leave you speechless? probably my flu since it hurts to talk LOL. Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not? yep. Have you been called a bad influence? no way. Describe your favorite pair of socks. i like all my pairs of black socks. Have you experienced any life-changing news, events, etc, lately? not really. Have any self-done piercings? nope. Ever pierced someone else? nooo. Do you get distracted easily? sometimes, but not if i’m focused on homework. Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful? it’s stressful usually. How do you feel about getting new neighbors? it’s exciting! How many ceiling fans are in your home? one. Do you tweet your life away? nope. How do you feel about shameless self promoting? i don’t mind it if it isn’t too in the way. When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods? yep. What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS? uh-huh.

Everything I Watched in 2019

Movies

The number in parentheses is year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. 

01 The Death of Stalin (17) does a neat trick of building goodwill for Steve Buscemi’s Krushchev, then brutally pays that off in the last few minutes. 

02 Sorry to Bother You (18)

03 Support the Girls (18)

04 Paddington (14)*

05 Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (16)

06 Eighth Grade (18) probably the most terrifying movie I watched all year, if you didn’t watch it through your fingers, who even are you?

07 Morvern Callar (02) much less bleak than the book, but then, nearly anything would be

08 The Favourite (18) revolting and beautiful. 

09 Columbus (17) a really lovely movie about architecture and parent-child relationships.

10 Bring it On (00)*

11 The Land of Steady Habits (18) feels wackier than your average Holofcener, but still a good watch. 

12 Spotlight (15) i was really bowled over by this, and wasn’t expecting to be. Workmanlike filmmaking, but an extraordinary story, well-told.

13 The Killing of a Sacred Deer (17) Barry Keoghan is a blank, but somehow compelling screen presence. This one has an ending that made me bark with laughter.

14 Legends of the Fall (94)

15 Moneyball (11)* if you don’t feel like watching anything in particular, you can always watch Moneyball

16 If Beale St Could Talk (18) very beautiful, but I failed to connect with it on any other level. 

17 For Keeps (88)

18 Abducted in Plain Sight (17)

19 Oscar Shorts (Animated) (18) the offerings were very sappy this year, but the winner was decent! Lots of Toronto content (weird). 

20 Oscar Shorts (Live Action) (18) *unquestionably* the worst one of these won ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

21 Velvet Buzzsaw (19)

22 Vice (18) ugh

23 Friends with Money (06)

24 Can You Ever Forgive Me (18)

25 Bohemian Rhapsody (18) haha what. was. that.

26 Mars Attacks (96)*

27 Paddington 2 (18)

28 Buffy the Vampire Slayer (92)*

29 Shoplifters (18)

30 Blindspotting (18) jacked Ethan Embry in a supporting role?! Whither? Howso? Wherefore?

31 Witness (85)

32 Harry & the Hendersons (87)*

33 The Matrix (99)*

34 T2 Trainspotting (17)

35 Blockers (18)

36 The Slums of Beverly Hills (98)

37 Can’t Hardly Wait (98)*

38 Avengers: Infinity War (18)

39 Iron Man II (10)

40 Isle of Dogs (18)

41 Chinatown (74)*

42 To Live & Die in LA (85)

43 Age of Innocence (93) Daniel Day-Lewis manages to make Newland Archer compelling, where in the novel he’s...the worst?!

44 Shopgirl (05)*

45 The House (17) didn’t sustain all the way through, but then, that’s how mainstream comedies often go. 

46 The Beguiled (17)

47 Badlands (73)*

48 Poetic Justice (93)

49 The Empire Strikes Back (80)*

50 Calibre (18)

51 The Kindergarten Teacher (18)

52 Hounds of Love (17) a nice little Aussie thriller, set in the 80s

53 Kicking & Screaming (95)*

54 Octopussy (83)*

55 Jaws (79)*

56 Lover Come Back (61)

57 Frenzy (72)

58 Always Be My Maybe (19)

59 Certain Women (16) took a while to get to this one, but it’s as great as they say it is. 

60 Baby Driver (17) all flash, little substance.

61 Sneakers (92)

62 Roadhouse (87)*

63 Bull Durham (88)*

64 Ghostbusters (84)*

65 Booksmart (19) I think this will improve on multiple viewings, though I loved the soundtrack and the mix of characters. 

66 Hereditary (18)

67 Rebecca (40) George Sanders as Rebecca’s cousin is BRILLIANT

68 Vertigo (58)*

69 The Dead Don’t Die (19)

70 Crawl (19)

71 Dazed & Confused (93)* If you don’t watch this once a summer, what is wrong with you?

72 Jackie Brown (97)

73 Talk Radio (88)

74 The Guilty (18)

75 Killing Heydrich (17)

76 Lady Bird (17)*

77 Billy Elliot (00)*

78 White House Down (13)* Channing Potatum saves the White House!

79 The Film Worker (17)

80 Whitney (18)

81 Mascot (16)

82 Apocalypse Now (79)* technically I’d only seen the Redux version from the early 2000s, so the regular cut is new to me. 

83 Apollo 13 (95)*

84 Psycho 2 (83) the twist is very guessable, but there are a couple of nice-looking scenes.

85 Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (04)*

86 The Bodyguard (92)*

87 Murder Mystery (19)

88 Wildlife (18)

89 The Stepford Wives (75)*

90 Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (71)*

91 The Natural (84)

92 The Other Boleyn Girl (08)

93 Speed (94)*

94 Opera (87)

95 That’s my Boy (12) haha what?!

96 The Big Short (15)

97 Elizabeth the Golden Age (07)

98 The Glass Castle (17) when I read the book, I genuinely thought it was fiction, it’s so insane. 

99 Dawn of the Dead (78)*

100 All About Eve (50) lady on lady violence is a special thing

101 La La Land (16)

102 Morning Glory (10) remember Rachel McAdams?

103 Casino (95)*

104 Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby (06)

105 Pet Sematary (19)

106 Clue (85)*

107 Her Smell (18) amazing soundtrack and the songs were well-chosen. Heartbreaking musical moment in the final act. 

108 Bobby Sands: 66 Days (16)

109 She’s Gotta Have it (86)

110 Good Morning (59)

111 Hustlers (19) I didn’t connect with this as much as the reviews led me to believe I might. 

112 Nocturnal Animals (16)

113 Kill Bill Vol 1 (03) I’d only ever seen the second one before, being a non-Tarantino completionist.

114 Fried Green Tomatoes (91)* I watch this more than anticipated...

115 Steel Magnolias (89)

116 Notting Hill (99)*

117 A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood (19) the tiny city models were inspired!

118 National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89)*

119 Let It Snow (19)

120 Frozen (13)

121 The Irishman (19) most interesting as a sort of pastiche/reckoning on the part of Scorsese about his other gangster films. Really outmoded view of unions. Definitely could have been edited down if anyone were able to come to it without undue reverence, but I did love the bit about the fish.

122 Girls Trip (17) actual plot is beside the point. 

123 About a Boy (02)* I always think of this as the “vomit and sweaters” movie, anyone else?

124 Animal House (78)*

DOCUMENTARY : FICTION - 4:120

THEATRE : HOME - 9:115

TV Series

01 Russian Doll - I think I would have enjoyed this more if it hadn’t been bingeable - would have made a nice week-by-week discussion sort of show. I loved to watch the changes between re-ups of our major characters, and I think the actual plotting would reward re-watches. 

02 Catastrophe S4 - A satisfying ending to an excellent show, with very charismatic leads (and deeply weird supporting characters). Had to write around Carrie Fisher’s death, and I’m sure did a better job of it than Star Wars did. 

03 Friends from College S2 - More of the same, which is what I was after. A show like cotton candy (but with more infidelity). 

04 High Maintenance S3 - A lot more of this season took place outside of New York City, which was a great change of pace. And a great deal more information about The Guy and his own life; both difficulties and successes included. 

05 Losers - This was a great little docuseries on Netflix that I didn’t hear a lot of people talking about - it’s about sports losses, but unusual sports ie curling, figure skating and the like. You’d think it would get repetitive, being as it’s always about recovering after loss, but it doesn’t! I wish they would make another season….

06 Shrill - a tight six episode dramedy about an alt-weekly journalist in the Pacific Northwest, based on Lindy West’s memoir of the same name. John Cameron Mitchell as her boss (based on Dan Savage) stands out of the ensemble cast, as does Annie’s roommate played by a British standup Lolly Adefope.

07 Broad City S5 - I haven’t always kept up with Broad City, but I came back to it for its final season, and thought it did a good job of setting its characters up for big changes in their lives. 

08 I Think You Should Leave - It’s easy to assume that all sketch comedy is terrible and always will be, but then you see this, and throw your TV out the window (due to all the laffs)

09 Fleabag S2 - Everything you’ve heard is true, this season is goddamn hilarious and ridiculously sexy. A huge step up from the first season, which was already pretty fantastic and incisive. 

10 Fosse/Verdon - Musicals are not particularly my bag, so I’m sure there was a lot that I missed in terms of references, but the lead performances ably carried me through all of the time jumps and various performances. 

11 Stranger Things S3 - Say it after me: d-i-m-i-n-i-s-h-i-n-g r-e-t-u-r-n-s! Maya Hawke kills it, though. 

12 Big Little Lies S2 - Unnecessary, and (if possible) even sillier than the first season.

13 Lorena - Part of the ongoing quest to rehabilitate the maligned women of the 1990s, this gave me tons of context that I had no idea about at the time, due to being a dumb kid. 

14 Glow S3 - I felt like I was losing steam on this series this year, but episodes like the camping ep kept me coming back. A great ensemble, though some unusual character choices (like a certain kiss *cough*) took me out of it by times. 

15 Lodge 49 S1-3 - I’d kept hearing about this show, so I finally sought it out. I can’t say it was amazingly compelling (I almost dropped it after the first season) but it’s definitely an oddball of a show, slipping from setpiece to setpiece with little regard for logic. For me, a background show. 

16 Chernobyl - This show really gave me the Bad Feeling, humans were definitely A Mistake.

17 On Becoming a God in Central Florida - Kiki in a trashy mode, not as infinitely appealing as the version she pulled off in the second season of Fargo, but scrappy and industrious nonetheless.

18 Show Me a Hero - I’d put off watching this for years, it felt like it was going to be too dull (housing policy in Yonkers?) but it’s great, and larded up with Bruce Springsteen songs, obvs.

19 Great British Bake Off S9-S10 - I’d also held off on watching this for a long time, out of loyalty to Mel, Sue, and Mary Berry. But I needed some comfort viewing towards the end of the summer, and the new hosts and judge do an able job, although the show’s tropes are feeling a bit well-worn at this point. 

20 Righteous Gemstones S1 - A rollicking ride for sure, with a great cast. Your mileage/patience with Danny McBride may vary, so keep that in mind, naturally. 

21 This Way Up S1 - A small show starring the fabulous Aisling Bea, about mental health and families and some nice comic physical acting. Oh, and in case you were watching The Crown and crushing on Tobias Menzies’ version of Prince Phillip, he plays a hot dad love interest in this, which gives you all the Tobias you’re looking for, without the PP racisms. 

22 The Crown S3 - This is the first season of the big cast switchover, and I thought it stuck reasonably well, once we were in it an episode or two. This season concentrated even less on Elizabeth herself, preferring her sister, husband, and (newly!) her children.

The Good Mourning

A/N: Took me long enough! Here’s the next work in the Ghost!Jake AU. I hope it’s enough in character, but this one…got a bit out of hand. Over 6000 words, twelve pages, and the plot, well– you’ll see. Happy birthday, Em! I hope 23 is a great year for you. Thank you for all those sweet birthday wishes a couple weeks ago, too. 

Without further ado, here is The Good Mourning!

                        👻

Jake has been dead for ten years.

For Milo, Jake has been dead for about 147 minutes.

–

Of all things that did him in, Jake’s ultimate reveal was innocuous and accidental.

It could have been on another ghost hunt with Jake swooping in to save the day at the last moment. It wasn’t Cody accidentally spilling the beans in the hospital when Jake couldn’t show up to check on his son. It could have been Jake finally sitting down with Milo, Dan sitting nearby for support, confessing the truth after all these years.

No, no.  

It was cedar oil.  

It was a cold and damp autumn morning. Milo just happened to there, sick again. Nothing too serious, sure, but his fever was high enough to make him stay home from school. Milo was sitting on the couch, bundled in blankets and watching old taped Shark Week specials that he had probably already seen a dozen times. The sound carried to the office where Jake was rubbing his temples, trying to remain composed.

Jake forced himself away from the computer. A difficult client was pushing back against the edits Jake made, demanding he fix the piece in another way. Jake had spent two hours that morning already explaining why he made the edits he did and why, but it wasn’t enough. He stood up and stretched, feeling some tension release. He had to get away.

Of the many things that helped him calm down, cleaning was one of the most rewarding. It let him focus on the task at hand and shut out the world, focusing instead on the grime that seemed to just come with living with a teenager—especially with one as curious about the world as Milo. The floors needed a good cleaning anyway.

Jake raided through the cleaning cabinet, jumping slightly as he knocked over a container he didn’t immediately recognize or remember. He flipped the bottle over to look closer at the label and groaned.

Cedar oil. When Jake was… out of commission while Milo was in the hospital, Dan attended one of the PTA meetings in his stead. He hit it off well with all the other parents, but how could he not? It was Dan. When Jake returned, he felt eyes bore right into him. He sat quietly almost the entire time, but a middle-aged woman pulled him aside after the meeting.

“Is Dan not coming back?” She asked, peeking over his shoulder like saying Dan’s name would suddenly summon him. “Or, will he be with you next time?”

“No.” Jake swallowed down a mild pang of jealousy. “He, uh, is always pretty tired after work. He only was here last time because I was sick.”

            “Oh.” The lady didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “Well, um, tell him I remembered the kind of oil to use! It was cedar. Oh! And-“

            “I’ll pass on the message.” Jake cut her off, heading for the door. “I’ll see you next time.”

            The next time while at the supermarket, Jake stumbled across the container and remembered the conversation. It mentioned that it was good for hardwood floors in the product description, so he put it in the cart in a rare moment of impulse. He didn’t put a lot of thought in the purchase; it picked at an old wound that Jake liked to believe was recovering nicely through the years.

And here it was. The bottle (can? Container?) was unopened. Jake rolled it over to reread the description before setting it on the table. He took another deep, unnecessary breath before beginning to scrub the floors, allowing his mind to go blank and instead focus on getting into all the grooves.

 By the time he was finished, he had no idea how much time passed. Milo was watching another documentary; Jake recognized the soundbites as the megalodon special. He wiped his brow out of habit before frowning at the floor. He wasn’t ready to get back to work just yet, so polishing the floors wasn’t out of the question. Jake poured some of the oil onto a rag and began to rub it into the floor, letting his mind wander again.

—

            Milo was getting restless. While the documentaries were perfect, watching sharks hunt—or, in the megalodon’s case, how it probably hunted—reminded him of the stocked kitchen. He picked up the blanket, wrapping it over his shoulders, and paused the film. He went into the kitchen and cracked open a ginger ale.

“Hey Dad?” Milo called as he started heading toward the sound of Jake’s furious-yet-careful scrubbing. “I know you said popcorn is bad for a sore throat and all but hear me out: it sounds really awesome just about nowaaaAAAAH-!”

Jake snapped back to the present at the sound of Milo yelling, shuddering slightly. He turned up to see Milo paling.

“Milo! You scared me. What’s-“Jake followed Milo’s gaze to his hands. “-Wrong. Oh.”

The skin had faded away, leaving two skeletal hands blatantly obvious. Jake lifted them both and forced a laugh.

“Milo! I’m fine. I’m fine! This is just-“ The hand holding the rag vanished entirely, leaving the rag to fall to the floor. Milo screamed louder, taking a step back toward the door.  “Shit.”

Milo swallowed harshly, his face turning from white as a sheet to green.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

–

Jake leaned against the sink, occasionally leaning over to rub Milo’s back with his still-existing skeletal hand as Milo hunched over the toilet. Milo was done, but the room was filled with a silence so dense it could be cut with a knife.

“So…” Jake started, unsure how to continue. Parenting books didn’t describe this. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Milo laughed hoarsely which turned to a choked sob. “Your hand’s gone!”

“It’ll come back.” Jake responded quickly. “It always does.”

Milo didn’t immediately respond. His brow furrowed as he seemed deep in thought.

“If it always does…how long have you been-how long has…?”

Jake shrugged, trying desperately to retain his composure.

“I’ve been- I’ve been like this for ten years.”

He turned on the faucet with his good (?) hand, sticking both the skeletal and non-existent hand under the stream of water. Gradually, skin began to reappear on one hand as the missing one turned skeletal. Jake splashed his face with water before taking a deep and unnecessary breath. Milo watched quietly before the silence was too much to bear.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

There was a moment of silence as Jake ran through the options in his head. He could lie again, sure. But at this point, wouldn’t that make it worse? He already dug himself in a hole. There was no need to make it a crater.

“I- Cody showed me.” Jake admitted.

“Wait.” Milo fell entirely from his kneeling position over the toilet and onto his butt in surprise. “Cody knows?”

Jake nodded once before looking to the floor.

“Does- does everybody know but me?”

“Oh! No, no. This has been—no one really else knows. Just Cody and-and Dan, and the Fullers.”

“Oh.”

“…Yeah.” Jake sunk onto the floor as well so he and Milo were at the same level. “I’m- I’m sorry, Milo. I didn’t want you to find out. Especially like this.”

The bathroom was silent again except the still-running faucet. It was like that for a few minutes before Jake forced a smile in Milo’s direction.

“Well, do you have any questions? After all, you and Cody are pretty much ghost-hunting extraordinaires, right?”

“Paranormal investigators,” Milo corrected without thought.  He fidgeted slightly, as if trying to figure out the right way to say something.

“…You said ten years, right?”

“Yes?” Jake asked, already feeling uneasy about where this was going.

“Did my dad know?”

With that, Jake lost control just for a moment. His whole form shuddered and glitched just once, flashes of cyan and red light briefly overtaking his eyes. Jake inhaled sharply and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. By the time he pulled his hands back, he gave Milo a stern glance, seeming as…normal and alive as ever.

“Milo, you know we don’t talk about Milo, Sr. in this house.”  

Milo gasped, unsure to be startled by Jake’s bright display or the sudden sinking feeling in his chest that seemed to appear whenever he got this response. Milo swallowed harshly, feeling tears build up with frustration. It wasn’t fair.

“Are you serious?” Milo asked barely above a whisper.

Jake blinked in confusion.

“What did you say, Milo?”

“I said, are you serious?!”  Milo stood up. A traitorous tear cascaded down his cheek which Milo sloppily wiped off. “I just asked if—I —what else are you not telling me?”

Jake stared up at Milo in shock, mouth agape.

“Why don’t you trust me? Is-is there any other secrets? If you’re dead, can you like- do you know what happened to my dad? Can you sense him? How did you die?  Wh-why don’t you… why don’t you—”

“Milo—”

“Why don’t you take me seriously?” Milo cried. “I’m fourteen now! That’s-that’s practically sixteen, which is practically an adult. A-and you told my best friend before you told me!”

Jake stood up, seeming to almost be on the verge of tears himself. He hesitantly but gently put a hand on Milo’s shoulder before squeezing reassuringly. His form shuddered for a second, but ultimately stayed tangible

“Milo…I wanted to tell you. I just…didn’t—I…” He looked at Milo, gently cupping his cheek with his other hand. “I didn’t want you to have to lose another parent.”

Milo sniffed, wiping snot with the cuff of his hoodie. He leaned into Jake’s hand for a second, unable to make Jake’s gaze.

“Milo.” Jake repeated. Milo glanced up briefly, seeing the exhaustion, despair and warmth in Jake’s eyes. Jake removed his hand from Milo’s face and set it on his other shoulder.

“No more secrets,” he lied.

Milo recoiled as if he was burned.

“You’re doing it again!” He cried, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging sharply on the roots in frustration. “You don’t even get that you’re doing it, do you?”

“No, you don’t understand.”  Jake flushed a little in embarrassment and frustration himself. A long-suppressed fire began rekindling. “I literally can’t talk about Milo, Sr. I can- I meant—”

 “No, you don’t want to talk about my dad!”

“Milo…” Jake warned.

“What? Let me guess, he’s- he never left, right?”

Jake removed his hands from Milo’s shoulders and instead clasped them over his own mouth, beginning to shake.

 “Oh, there is another deep dark family secret? How long were you going to let me look for ghosts, when there was one in front of me, like-like a big dummy!”  Tears were streaming like a faucet now down Milo’s cheeks. He felt his ears burn, but words were just coming out as loosely as water fell from his eyes.

“Milo!” Jake’s hands shot from covering his mouth. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. And- and you can’t talk to me like that.”

Parenting guidebooks don’t fail him now.

“Milo, y-you’re grounded.” Jake stood up straighter. “—Until you talk to me more nicely.”

Milo began shaking himself, unsure to cry harder or just…get angry. Against every fiber in his being to choose the former, Milo took another step back. He tripped over the lip of the tub, falling in. Before Jake could reach out to help, words began tumbling out of Milo’s mouth without his permission.

“You can’t do that!” He cried. “You’re not my dad!”

The room went absolutely silent as time seemed to freeze. Jake stopped mid-step from trying to help Milo up and instead looked at Milo with a blank shock. Milo swallowed again harshly, humiliated and furious at that slip that he didn’t even mean. But before he could apologize, Jake glitched twice before vanishing entirely.

—

Milo wasn’t sure how long he sat in the bathtub in shock. He was cold from the fever and dehydrated from the crying. By the time he forced himself to move and grab his phone from his pocket, he saw that two hours had passed. How had it only been a little over two and half hours since he…found out?

He scrolled through the contacts in his phone. Cody? He would still be in school. Mr. Dom? No. While he’d get to the house fastest, Milo wasn’t as …close to him. Instead, he chose one of the most-contacted contacts on his phone. Milo sniffled again, wiping snot on his sleeve as he heard the ringing on the other end. As expected, it was only a handful of rings until the person on the other end picked up.

“Milo?”

Milo let out another muffled wail at the sound of the voice on the other end.

“Milo? What’s wrong?”

“Dad… I got in a- when can you get home?” Milo asked, curling up in the tub feeling much smaller than he felt in a long time.

“One second.”

There was muffled talking in the background, which turned more frantic after a second.

“Milo, I’ll be able to get off in about an hour.” Dan said. “I’ll be home immediately after.”

—

Dan stayed true to his word. Milo heard him fumbling with the keys for a moment before rushing in the door. He had since gotten out of the bathtub and instead curled up on the couch, hugging his knees tight. Jake…hadn’t shown up since the argument.

 As soon as Dan entered, Milo leapt up and ran to hug him tight. Dan seemed surprised for a second but bent down to hug Milo back. Milo began to tear up again, nuzzling into Dan’s shoulder. Dan held him for a moment before pushing him back slightly to make eye contact.

“Kiddo…what’s wrong? What happened?”

Milo looked at him for a moment before breaking his gaze and looking at the floor.

“Jake and I got in a fight.” He admitted. “An-and I said some…bad things.”

Dan seemed surprised for a moment but didn’t interrupt. He waited quietly for Milo to continue. There was a beat of silence before Milo found his voice again. Instead of further elaborating about what was said, Milo provided the context of the situation.

“Jake told me.”

Dan seemed surprised but immediately broke into a grin.

“He did?” Dan looked over Milo’s shoulder as if looking for Jake. “I didn’t think he would—how did you take it? Are you alright?  How did you find out? Where is he?”

Milo didn’t respond, not looking up from the floor.

“Oh.”

“…I think I heard him in his room.”  Milo supplied. “He hasn’t come out yet, though.”

Dan nodded and stood up before offering Milo his hand. Milo took it, looking back up at him.

“Well, let’s go talk to him, okay?”

“Okay.” Milo agreed.             Dan gently led them both to outside Jake’s bedroom door before knocking.

“Hey? Jake? Are you in there?”

—

Jake had phased through the walls and into his bedroom after his argument with Milo. He was desperately trying to maintain his human appearance, trying to suppress the shudders to his form urging him to change back. Back to the form he took in the haunted house. The form that he felt deep in his bones was now the default.

But that wasn’t okay. He had to calm down to talk to Milo. He had to get back to Milo. Jake clutched his dresser, not breaking eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were no longer brown but the bright cyan. It’s okay. That happened sometimes. He could do this. He could do this. He just had to keep it together. He had to get back to Milo and finish their conversation. He had to…

Something in Jake’s stomach churned at the thought. Why was he here again? What was the point? Milo made his stance clear. Jake’s hands flew from the dresser to try and cover his mouth as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. A glowing cyan substance shot out of his mouth, nose and eyes, splattering on the floor. The trajectory sent Jake tumbling backward. It pooled on the carpet and coated the furniture, filling the room with the smell of ozone.

The violent eruption lasted only for a few moments, but it seemed to drag on. Jake stood up and sloppily wiped his face with his hands, just smearing it across his face. Jake straightened his back, his reflection catching the corner of his eye. Jake turned back to see…himself, he guessed. Well, mostly.  His eyes had changed to a deep red from the episode and his skin was beginning to turn translucent. Jake leaned over the dresser, laying his head down on the cool wood. It felt good, but his stomach and core were still throbbing.

Okay. Getting back to Milo could wait just a moment. Dan would be home relatively soon, and Milo was right. He was fourteen. He was old enough to stay home alone for a few hours. Jake just had to wait for…

Dan always was the one to fix it, huh?

How long are you going to make Dan keep it together for you?

Jake’s face scrunched up in frustration and hurt. No. Dan mourned when Jake died. It was Dan’s crying that made him summon energy to come back home. Dan was nothing but supportive and loving to his friends, just as he had always been. Dan waited for him to come back every time. Dan-             Dan was talking to someone about the cedar oil. The whole thing that started this mess. Jake stood up and took a few shaky steps back to sit on his bed. Jake got out his phone, groaning in frustration as his hands—both now fully skeletal—simply clicked on the glass with no effect. Whose brilliant idea was it to make phone screens heat sensitive, anyway? Jake set the phone in his lap, digging into his nightstand drawer until he produced a stylus.

It took one cursory Google search that confirmed Jake’s suspicions about the oil. He held his phone with shaking hands for a second before gently setting it down beside him.

“Well, um, tell him I remembered the kind of oil to use!”

Jake curled up, focusing on breathing patterns to try and calm down. Dan was trying to get rid of him. Milo was mad at him and would never forgive him. There…. what was the point of staying? Jake’s skin faded away entirely, revealing the skeletal form for the second time in his afterlife.

 Jake clenched his bony fists before swallowing sharply. There was left for him here. But that doesn’t mean there was nothing left for him at all. His bones sharpened as the deep red of his eyes began glinting at the surge of emotion. For the second time in ten years, Jake felt…angry.

He grabbed his guitar and vanished.

—

Dan hadn’t let go of Milo’s hand.

“Jake?” He called, knocking on the door with his free hand. There was no response.

Milo looked down, sniffling. Dan squeezed his hand and smiled down at him reassuringly.

“Jake, if you don’t answer we’re just going to come in.”

No response.

“Jake, you’ve got…” Dan checked his phone before setting a timer. “Two minutes until I unlock the door. We can’t be doing this.”

Again, nothing. Dan paled ever-so-slightly and held Milo’s hand tighter. A sinking feeling told Milo that Dan was just feeling just as anxious as he was. The two waited, unmoving. Dan didn’t look away from the door at all. Even though they were only a couple minutes, they seemed to last an eternity. Milo resorted to leaning into Dan’s arm. Regardless, they both jumped when the happy tune of the timer went off. Milo dropped Dan’s hand in surprise as Dan went to shut it off.

He reached to the top of the doorframe before trying one last time.

“Jake, please.”

Nothing.

Dan sighed before sticking the key in the lock and turning it. He rammed into it with his shoulder, trying to nudge it open despite the sticky latch.  Instead, he bounced a little off the hard wood and blinked in surprise.

“I…just locked it?”

Dan unlocked the door again and it swung open. The room was empty.  

“Jake?” Dan called. “Are you in here?”

Just as before, there was no response. Dan slowly and carefully stepped in the room. Parts of the floor and dresser were glowing faintly which was… new. His phone was left on his bed. Jake certainly (at least) had been in there.

“Jake? Are you-are you invisible right now? Because we just want to talk. If you burned up your energy or something, can you give us a sign?”

Silence. The air felt heavy and still.

Milo was waiting outside before something caught his eye. He walked quickly into the room and looked at the blank wall.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yeah, Milo?” Dan asked, looking around the dark room absentmindedly.

“Jake’s guitar is gone.”

Dan whipped his head around and saw the empty mantle on the wall. His stomach sank.

“Huh.” Dan forced out. “We… should call an expert.”

—

The doorbell rang.

Dan got up to answer it, but Milo beat him to the door, curious (and hopeful) to see who it was.

“Cody?”

“Hey Milo! Are you still sick? Oh, hi, Mr. Fuller!”

“Hi, Cody.” Dan responded, smiling tiredly. “Yes, Milo’s still sick, so you’ll probably want to wash your hands.”

Cody nodded as Dan and Milo stepped out of the way to let him in. Cody set his backpack on the floor as he began unpacking slightly.

“I didn’t know what we’d need, but- “

“Wait. Cody’s the expert?” Milo asked, turning to face Dan who shrugged sheepishly.

“Heh…he was the first one that accidentally found out that knows about ghost stuff.”

Milo seemed crestfallen for a moment before Dan quickly raised his hands in a defensive position.  

“No, no. Milo, you’re both the experts we need. After all, you two are a team, right, Baby Shark?”  

Milo immediately blushed and pulled his hood up as Cody snorted out a stifled laugh.

“Dad…don’t call me that.”

“Okay, kiddo. I won’t.” Dan winked at Milo as if to say ‘I-won’t-embarrass-you-in-front-of-your-friends.’

Milo groaned but bent to help Cody rummage through his backpack.

“Okay, so I brought a spirit box…a Ouija board…flashlights…what exactly is the emergency?”

Milo and Dan looked at each other before Dan forced a soft smile at Cody. Milo looked away, withdrawing his hands to instead tuck in his lap.

“Jake’s missing.”

Cody stopped his rummaging.

“Oh,” he said. “Does… uh…Milo? Do you…?”

“He told me.” Milo said.

“Okay. Well, everything I brought is pretty much useless then, but I’ll see how I can help!” Cody began sticking everything back in his backpack, zipping it back up.

Dan nodded, offering his hands to help them both back up. The two accepted and Cody slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?” Dan suggested. He let Milo take the lead. Cody followed quickly in after him but stopped so quickly that Dan almost ran into him.

“What’s that?” Cody asked, gesturing to the still-open container on the kitchen table.

“Oh…uh, Jake picked that up from the store. It’s cedar oil.”

Cody picked it up, looking it over. He frowned deeply. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Dan shrugged. “A mom at the PTA recommended it, and Jake picked it up after.”

“Cedar oil is…not good.” Cody supplied. “It’s not as strong as sage or salt or anything, but cedar oil can be used to finalize, well, banishing.”

Dan blinked in surprise.

“You weren’t… you didn’t…” Cody gestured quickly. “I’m not saying you would, but-“

“Oh god. Of course not!” Dan began wringing his hands together. “The mom I was talking to just got divorced. Her girlfriend is a carpenter and that’s just what she happened to recommend.”

“Everyone just kinda tells you everything about themselves, huh?” Cody rubbed his chin, trying to seem intelligent.

“Did Jake know that?” Milo asked quietly. A beat of silence followed.

“…I don’t know.”

The room was immediately silent. Milo tightened the strings on his hoodie/ Cody tried to think of a way to ask the following question lightly. However, as time ticked on, he just blurted it out.

“Are you sure he didn’t move on?”

Dan and Milo looked at Cody in horror. Dan’s jaw dropped slightly.

“I…”

“It wouldn’t make sense,” Cody added. “He wouldn’t just go, not after everything. But when a ghost suddenly disappears, it isn’t usually…good.”

Dan didn’t know what to say. Luckily, Milo took that moment to speak up.

“He didn’t.” Milo said. “They usually disappear in a sudden flash of light, right? He didn’t do that. He just…turned invisible, I think? He took something from his room before he left, too.”

Cody blinked.

“What did he take?”

“His guitar.” Dan said hoarsely. “His anchor.”

 Cody sighed in relief.

“Oh, good.” Cody smiled at the two of them. “He’s still around then! That just means he’s somewhere else, otherwise you guys would have seen the anchor since then.”

Dan pulled out a chair and slumped in it in relief.

            “He must be somewhere else important to him- somewhere else he’d default to. We just have to find him!”

            Dan rubbed his face before letting out a brief hysterical laugh.

            “Do you know anywhere Jake might be?” Milo asked quietly.

            Dan glanced up, tears in his eyes.

            “Of course, I know a few.” He wiped his face. “Cody, if you want to come, text your dad and ask. We’re going on a friendship tour.”

—

The first stop was, in every sense of the word, the worst.

            Dan pulled in the parking lot as Milo stared at the sign with a blank expression.  

            “You guys don’t have to get out of the car for this one if it’d make you more comfortable.” Dan said quietly.

            “I think I’m going to stay behind for this one, if that’s okay, Mr. Fuller.” Cody replied. “It doesn’t feel right for me to go with you.”

            “Milo?”

            Milo jerked up and whipped his head around to look at Dan.

            “I…think I’d like to go.”

            Dan smiled again, looking much older than he had as long as Milo could remember. The two got out of the car. Dan held out his hand to Milo and Milo took it. Milo took a deep breath as the two headed into the cemetery.

            “I haven’t been here in years,” Dan said. Milo didn’t respond, looking around wildly.

            After a few turns, Dan took him to a gravestone not as grand as some of the others, but still clearly important.

HERE LIES JAKE PIERLY

HIS HEART WAS TOO BIG

FOR THIS WORLD

REST IN PEACE

            Dan bent over and began plucking some weeds from the gravestone as Milo stared at the gravestone.

            “We should have picked up some flowers, huh, kiddo?” Dan asked. He looked up to see Milo swaying slightly. “Milo?”

            “Is he…is he down there?”

            “He was buried here.” Dan said, standing up to get to Milo. “Do you want to go back to the car? He’s pretty clearly…not here.”

            Milo shook his head, tears beading up.

            “Don’t worry. We’ll find him and tell him this was just one big misunderstanding, right?” Dan asked. Milo shook his head and instantly grabbed Dan and pulled him into a tight hug.

            “It’s my fault!” Milo wailed. “I told him- Dad, I called him a liar, and told him he wasn’t my real dad! I hurt him, an-and it’s all my fault and he’s gone.”

             Dan bent over and hugged Milo tight, letting him cry it out.

            “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so mean- if I… He would still be here, and everything would be normal, but—it’s my fault, he might be gone forever, and-“

            Dan began quietly hushing Milo, pushing him back slightly so Dan could peck his forehead with a kiss.

            “Milo…We’ll find him. Once we do, we can talk to him. You and I both owe him an apology, and we can move on. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

            Milo nodded quietly, looking away and back at the gravestone. Dan hugged him again.    “I don’t feel good.” Milo said quietly. “Can…can we go now?”

            “Of course.”

—

“Welcome, welcome to the Savory Grain!” Dan beamed, gesturing to the seedy bar in front of the three. Various banners lined the windows advertising cheap beer. “It’s not open during week days usually, but this is our second stop!”

            Cody lifted up a foot as a mouse ran underneath.

            “Are…we allowed to be here?” He asked.

            “There’s no liquor sales going on right now,” Dan shrugged. “Besides, I know the owner! He usually spends the week in there to do paperwork and stuff.”

            Dan knocked twice on the door, which slowly opened on its own.

            “Mr. Huffin is the nicest old guy you’ll ever meet.” Dan explained. “I’m sure as soon as we explain the situation, he’ll help us as much as he can.”

            “…I don’t know about this.” Cody said.

            “It’ll be okay.” Milo laughed. “Come on, how bad can it be?”

            The answer?

            Pretty bad.

            Milo and Cody looked around the bar. A stage was the main attraction with a microphone and drum set. The ceiling was covered in hundreds of playing cards, some of which stained by…some sort of fluid. Cobwebs marked all the corners and the men’s bathroom was boarded up. Initials and drawings were carved all over. Milo started walking toward one of the tables to get a closer look, swearing that he saw MILO SUMNER carved in one of the booths.

Before he could get much closer, though, Dan scooped him up by the shoulders.

“Oh! Nope. Don’t step on that carpet. It’s so sticky, your shoes will be there forever.”

Milo made a face, which Dan just laughed at.

“Yeah, this place isn’t the nicest, but it sure was fun back in the day.” He looked toward the stage. “This is where Jake had his first performance with the Problem Sons!”

“I thought Jake was an English major.” Milo said.

“He was.” Dan supplied. Milo blinked in confusion as Dan set him back down.

Dan looked like he was going to say something else, but a glass flew from the bar and crashed on the wall. Dan and Milo turned around slowly to see an angry, green translucent ghost with a large handlebar mustache.

“Hey!” He yelled. “No minors at my bar!”

“Mr. Huffin?” Dan asked.

“A poltergeist!” Cody shouted.

“Watch your profanity.”

Dan walked over, beaming.

“Mr. Huffin! It’s me, Dan Fuller!”

The ghost looked blankly at Dan.

“Never heard of you. Now get these children OUT!”

Dan’s smile fell.

“No, no! I was a friend of Jake Pierly. Remember, the Problem Sons? They performed here a long time ago?”

“Hmmm.” Mr. Huffin stroked his chin. “Oh yes, that’s right! I remember.”

“You do?”

“Yeah! They STUNK!”

Dan looked offended for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“We’re looking for Jake.” Dan said. “Have you seen him?”

“In my bar? No. You’ve been the only people all night. And we’re closed! Get out!” Mr. Huffin threw another glass, missing by far. “If you bring any more minors to my bar, I’ll drag you to the depths of hell myself!”

Dan rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s about enough of that. C’mon, Milo. C’mon, Cody. We have a few more spots to check out.”  

“Aw, what? I was getting a camera ready, Mr. Fuller! Can we just stay for another moment or two?” Cody begged. “Ghosts really only show up when I’m with your family for whatever reason.”

“No. I’ll take you back in seven years, though, assuming this place isn’t closed down for health reasons or because the owner is a huge jerk!”

“I heard that!”

“I know you did! That’s why I yelled it!” Dan began shoving Cody and Milo through the door. Milo snorted at Dan’s outburst as Cody pouted.

“He’s a lot meaner than I remember.” Dan grumbled. “And deader.”

—

            The third spot and fourth spots were both duds.

For the third spot, Dan drove by the first apartment that Jake, Milo, Sr., and Dan first rented.  It, much to Dan’s disappointment, had apparently long-since been torn down and replaced with commercial apartments. New college students were walking in and out as Dan sunk into his seat in the car.

“Gosh, I’m getting old.” He grumbled before driving to the fourth spot.

The English Department was empty. Classes had long-since ended for the day, though a few stragglers were studying. None of them heard anything. There was no sign of him, and by the end, the three were simply exhausted.

“I’ve got one more place.” Dan said as the three piled in the car. He drove for a few minutes to an all-night diner. The waiter gestured to the sign that said, “free seating,” so the three piled in a small booth. Conversation was at a lull.

            “Do either of you see something odd?” Cody yawned.

            Milo yawned in response and shook his head. Dan seemed distracted by the menu. By the time the waiter returned for drink orders, Dan smiled excitedly.

            “One black coffee and a plater of chili cheese fries, please!” He said. Milo made a disgusted face, causing Cody to giggle. They both ordered off the kid menu, things would go down easy.

            “Some chicken nuggets, please.”

            “I’ll have the grilled cheese.”

            The two ordered sodas and the waiter left. After they were gone, Milo turned to Dan.

            “Why did you get that gross order?”

            Dan laughed dryly.

            “It’s what Jake would always get,” he said. “Your dad, Jake and I would come here after Jake…partied too hard. It would be the only thing we could get him to eat. I’m sure it wasn’t good for his heart in the long run, but we were just happy to watch him stuff his face once in a while.”

            Dan smiled a little at the memory. Silence followed for a bit before Milo spoke up.

            “Dad? Are you okay?” He asked.

            “I don’t know,” Dan laughed dryly. “I’ll feel better once we know Jake is okay. He’s…he’s all that’s left from the original trio other than me, you know?”

            “It’s like you said.” Milo said. “We’ll find him, right? It’ll be okay.”

            Dan smiled in return.

            The waiter returned with drinks in a few minutes. Dan took a long sip of the coffee and snorted.

            “It still tastes like dirt,” he said. “At least there’s free refills.”

            Dan pulled out his phone and shot a quick text message.

            “Okay,” he said. “I just texted my mom to let me know if Jake shows up at their house. I don’t think he’d go there if he didn’t want to talk, but it’s worth a shot. Do either of you have any thoughts? Suggestions? Questions?”

            Cody raised his hand.

            “I have one, actually.”

            “Yeah, Cody?” Dan asked, taking a sip of his coffee. “Also, please don’t raise your hand. We’re not in school.”

            “Why did you want me to come with?” Cody asked.

            “Oh! That’s easy.” Dan set down his coffee. “You’re a part of this family, too. You’ve been with us for the best and the worst.”

            Cody blinked in surprise before smiling. He wasn’t sure what to say, so instead he kicked Milo from under the table.

            “Looks like I have three dads too, Milo.”

            Milo rolled his eyes before slurping his soda.

            “Yeah, yeah.” Milo said. “I actually have a question too.”

            “Yes?”

            “Where do we look for Jake next?” Milo asked.

            Dan frowned and looked into his coffee cup. He seemed deep in thought before reaching his final consensus. At that, he looked horrified.

            “Oh god.” Dan mumbled.

            “What’s wrong?” Milo asked. “I mean, there’s got to be more places to look.”

            “You’re right. I’m sure there are, but I can’t think of them. There’s only one person that might know where else to look.” Dan slunk in his seat like an angsty teenager.

“…We need Aaron.”

End of Part I

A Family Resemblance

CW: Scat, incest, everything else. You’ve been warned. This was a collaboration with Smelliot the Slob, who is probably as dorky and gross in real life as the victims in the story. 

Elliot came downstairs into the large living room. The room was split into the lounge area and kitchen in one room. In the corner he could see his father, Dan in the corner instructing one of his private clients. Reaching into the fridge Elliot pulled out the milk and poured himself a large glass before taking a long swig of it.

Dan counted off on his hands as the patron was on the ground doing a pushup. "Come on! Keep pushing! Don't give up now man, you don't want to end up flabby do you?"

“It’s hard Dan!” The patron said as he struggled. He looked up and saw Elliot. Everyone saw the patron as just an out of shape middle aged man but none could see him for what he really was. A being of pure chaos who could shape reality just using his words. This time, his target was Dan, the hottest personal trainer in town and his equally hot son Elliot. “This must be your son! There’s definitely a family resemblance!”

Elliot smiled and gave a thumbs up "Alright dude."

Dan turned and smiled "Yes, very proud of my boy, and he and I worked hard for our bodies. You can too. It is hard, but the rewards are worth it, so keep pushing!"

“I am!” said the patron. “Maybe if you were wearing your glasses you could see how hard I was trying” A pair of thick hornrimmed glasses appears on an end table. Elliot frowned at this but Dan just reaches over to the end table to grab his glasses and slide them on his face. "Since when did you wear glasses dad?"

Dan threw a bewildered look at his son. "I've always worn glasses." This caused Elliot to mimic Dan's bewildered expression.

“Whew Dan! Could you close your mouth?” begged the patron. “Those crooked yellow teeth are so hard to look at and your breath is so foul I bet your son can smell it from across the room!”

Elliot frowned. “Watch your tone buddy!" Clearly the lad was getting upset at someone insulting his dad, although he did a double take as he saw his dad’s now yellowed teeth.

"Well I need to open it to keep you motivated. Maybe it will motivate you to work harder."

“P.U.! That’s  an awfully condescending tone for someone with such a big gut too!”

Elliots eyes widened in shock as he saw his father bloat up, gaining layer upon layer of fat, thighs thickening along with his arms, a large flabby gut pushing out. "What the fuck!?" Elliot quickly started to go for the phone presumably to dial 911. Dan patted his stomach. "Mm, but I am proud of my belly, you want to get rid of yours."

“Honestly I think that’s about all I have in me for today. Didn’t you say you wanted to show me the computers you had been building in the gym you turned into a study?”

Dan nodded and started to waddle off with you following him. Elliot however had other plans. "What the hell is going on!?" He asks aloud, phone in his hand. "Someone explain or I am calling 911."

“Oh please you’re just as clumsy as your old man!” the patron laughed. Dan stumbled and tripped over his own feet and Elliot, in a moment of unusual clumsiness, dropped his phone right into the sink full of dishes. Elliot swore as he fished for the phone but it was ruined as it came out.

"What are you doing?" Elliot asked as Dan got his balance back.

“I’m just hanging out with my friend Dan, which is honestly pretty charitable on my part. After all, he may have stopped working out and put on a lot of weight, but he still has the body odor and sweatiness of an entire weightlifting team.”

Dan sniffed at his armpits, smelling his sweaty BO. "Man, I do smell bad don't I?" Elliot had to cover his nose as the room became overpowered by it.

"You're doing something to him! Fine, if I can't call the police I'll go get help." He marches towards the door with purpose.

“Aw but you’ve always liked guys who stink terribly I thought,” the patron said with a grin.

Elliot has stopped covering his nose and is clearly breathing normally. "I mean...sure it's nice but you can't be changing my dad."

“Oh don’t worry, I’m doing more than that. Say, did you happen to pick up your old man’s lice shampoo?”

"I did but...hey wait, since when does dad have lice?" He asked as he saw his dad was now scratching at his hair.

“Since forever! The shampoo doesn’t even really do anything other than leave his hair super greasy but we have to keep trying. That’s what your father told me anyways, even though it took forever with his terrible stutter!”

"I just wish it didn't make his hair greasy." Elliot commented as Dan's hair became very greasy. "and dad you really should see a speech therapist."

Dan nodded. "Y-you got t-t-t-hat right sss-ss-son."

“I don’t know why you’re so concerned. I heard you liked greasy haired fatsos with lice and stutters”

Elliot’s face flushed red and he was glad his lower body was obscured by the counter (“Whatcha hiding there Elliot? I bet it’s a big old hard on just like your dad always has. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man cum his pants as often as your father”

The front of Dans pants grew damp as Elliot’s face flushed some more. "Its uh...I just woke up, I had an intense dream." He lied, a little ashamed that his father got him aroused.

“It’s a good thing your dad only wears these cheap thrift store khakis and white socks all the time or it would be a shame that he’s constantly wetting himself. At least they look nice with his button down and suspenders!”

Elliot’s mouth fell open at his dads new outfit. "He looks ridiculous like that!" He says as Dan plays with his suspenders and straightens his bow tie.

“Oh please,” laughed the patron. “Everyone knows this is the hottest way a man can dress. And the pants are so cheap, it doesn’t even matter if your dad is usually carrying a few turds in the back”

Elliot blinked as something came over him. "I mean, at least he's dressing in something attractive...despite the shit and piss."

“Come on, the shit and piss make him unique and kind of even hotter!”

Elliot bit his lower lip as he turned around, hoping to stop his large erection. The patron grinned and continued to weave a new reality with his words.

“But I mean you would expect someone to shit themselves every once in a while considering that Dan—errr Dilbert here never stops farting. Phew, it smells like someone threw a hundred hard boiled eggs in a dumpster on a hot summer day in here!”

Dilbert let out a loud smelly fart as a log of shit filled his underwear. Elliots nostrils flared heard the fart, but did not complain about the stench. "Yeah..." he stated nervously.

“Wow” the patron said as he finally peered insides Dilbert’s computer room. “This is the nerdiest room I’ve ever seen, well not counting the rest of the your house I mean. I’ve never seen someone with so many comic books, fantasy novels, and empty pizza boxes!”

Dilbert nodded proudly. "I l-l-love my c-c-c-c-comics! I also a-a-dore pizza. B-b-but I need to u-use my z-z-z-zit cream after eating it to a-a-a-void breakout out."

“Oh yeah it was such a mistake to shave your beard, Dilbert. Your skin broke out so bad after that. Plus look at how bad your insanely large ears and nose look without the beard to distract!”

Dan's beard quickly pulled into his now softer jaw as his skin breaks out in bad acne, white headed zits appearing over his face as his ears got larger and started to stick out. With a snort his nose inflated to a pudgy schnoz.

“And honestly Dilbert, I think you should talk to your orthodontist because considering how big and clunky your headgear is, those two giant buck teeth should be looking better by now”

Dilbert’s cheeks blushed and he adjusted a screw on his braces. "I c-c-cant help it" he whined quite pathetically before his belly rumbled, he let out a loud belch right into your face, the smelly fishy breath was heavy with the scent of pizza and fast food.

“Aw well hopefully there’s a man that appreciates all this out there somewhere. I know how desperate you are for a boyfriend!”

Dilbert looked down at the floor as the front of his pants grow wet again and the smell of urine filled the air. "But w-w-who would d-d-date a l-l-l-losher like me." He looked sad when he admitted he was a loser.

“I’m sure there’s someone out there who is into disgusting dweebs like you.” The patron looked up with a grin at Elliot. “Say don’t you think it’s time your son got his favorite meal. A hot pocket that got your cum and piss all over it?”

The patron’s words made this a reality and Elliot shrugged as if it was normal. "I am pretty hungry dad..." With that Dilbert waddled over and stuck a hot pocket into the microwave. After a few minutes he pulled out the turnover and put it down on the floor. Pulling out his smaller, but hard dick he proceeds to piss over it, a little jerking and globs of cum also cover the treat. He places it down in front of his son who just picks up a knife and fork and starts to take bites.

“Wow Elliot you sure look hungry! I bet it’s from looking at all those posters up in your room. Of those pretty ladies? No wait, that’s not right, you have posters of fat nerds, guys covered in their own pee and cum, ugly pimple faced four eyes, isn’t that right?”

Elliots cheeks burn as he takes another bite, it was true, but he didn't want to show that he was embarassed about it. So he decided to downplay it. "Yeah, I'm into fat nerds. What of it?"

“It just seems like considering your father, it must be kind of a bummer that you aren’t one too. I mean he’s so pathetic and you’re this hot perfect jock. It must just be unbearable not having inherited his extremely geeky genes. It must just drive you nuts. Plus according to your journal, it looks like no matter how hard you beat off, you can’t cum. I bet that’s because you know you need to be a total nerd first.”

Elliot took another bite, this time slower and more thoughtful. "Yeah....dad says I take after mom. I mean look at him. Look at what a loser he is. Who wouldn't want that?"

“I bet you pray every night to become a loser like him. I bet you would give up everything for a chance at that huh?”

"You bet I would! I even looked into a laser eye surgery to see if they'd ruin my vision. Sadly they weren't interested, nor was the plastic surgeon. Besides, dad is lonely now, he has no one."

“Yeah I mean compared to your dad, you’re so cool. Even with the nerdiest bedroom I’ve ever seen. And your bedroom is so so dorky. Dirty clothes everywhere. Three computers. Chess club trophies. Pokémon sheets. It’s amazing you’re as jacked as you are considering how much you love chess.”

"Well, they are online chess trophies. My room is an expression of who I wish I was. Even dad gets jealous. I tell my friends I have a cool room and I play my guitar every night. Well...its not a guitar. It's an accordion."

“Yeah your dad told me you basically never stop playing accordion. That it’s one of the only ways to drown out the noise of your incessant farts.”

A large blasting fart escaped from Elliot's rear, filling the already smelly room with his own gas. "It was no surprise, they did say the chronic flatulence was hereditary."

“The farts are one thing but hoowee the rest! Your BO and halitosis put your father’s to shame.”

"Well, I hate taking showers...and eating these special hot pockets don't help my halitosis. Not that I don't want them, they are my favourite!"

“I know and considering they’re all you eat, it’s no wonder you’ve inherited your father’s.... rather ample physique.”

As the patron’s words changed Elliot’s body, he pat his new belly as he sat there changed, a lardass like his father. “Mmm, I know! I'm a fussy eater...its embarassing you don't need to rub it in."

“Not as embarrassing as the way you rub all the piss from your pants in your hair all the time. It just makes you stink worse and, despite what you read on the web, it’s not gonna do anything to help your lice problem.”

Elliot’s belly rumbled and he lets out a loud fart as his hair grows greasy and lice infested. Reaching into his pants he cups his hand and pisses into it. "But the website said it helped with lice." With that he wet his hair with the piss he cupped.

“The only effect it seems to be having is making your skin break out worse and worse and worse. God you have bigger pimples than even your father does!”

A grin crossed Elliot’s face. "A side effect I didn't expect but I am delighted about. Even if it doesn't help my lice, if it helps keep these zits, just try and stop me."

“I don’t wanna stop you or get anywhere near those zits. I bet they’re so bad because you like squirting the zit pus into a glass and drinking it. That can’t be good for your skin.”

Elliot licked his lips as the patron’s words became law. “Mm, I am thirsty...and I've been milking these babies for months. I'm due a treat." He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a jug with a label reading 'Elliots zit pus, DO NOT TOUCH'. He lifted it to his lips and took some gulps before returning it to the fridge.

“Yeah I mean why do you think I’m wearing rubber boots? Gotta protect myself from the inches of piss, cum, shit and pus that are just sloshing around on your floor!”

Elliot blushed. ”That’s thanks to dad, and sometimes I miss the jar. It’s why I am wearing rubber boots too." A loud fart rumbled from his rear, the heavy aroma stinging the patron’s nostrils

“Wow, well you really do outpace your father in terms of fart stink. And BO. And halitosis. You really do smell terrible. It’s a bummer you can’t close your mouth with those giant yellow buck teeth with the huge gap between them.”

Elliot grinned as the patron brought up his overbite. His front teeth almost looked like fangs with the space between them. "Dad jokes you could drive a train through the gap."

“I mean combined with your giant nose and those big ears, you really look like such a geek. Not that you’d know it since you don’t even have your glasses on. Where did they go? Ah!” The patron sees them sitting in a puddle of cum and piss, the lenses several inches thick and the frames more duct tape than plastic at this point.

Elliot shivered and rubbed at his fat nose, it was even bigger than his dad’s. He absentmindedly wiggled his ears as his vision blurred. "Can you see them? Where did I put them? I'm blind as a bat without them!”

“They’re down there. By your feet. I won’t pick them up so don’t even ask. Besides your tight little nasal passages make your voice so whiny that I can barely stand to hear it. It’s amazing you can breathe at all.”

With another rumble, Elliot opened his mouth letting out a loud belch. He leaned down, his breathing heavier as he picked up the glasses, and without even wiping them putsthem on his nose. "SNORT there we go. I'm always SNORT losing my glasshes, or SNORT breaking them."

“They’re in such bad shape, i imagine they’re a pair of your dads old glasses. Makes sense since you wear all of his clothes too. I’ve heard of hand me downs but you know you’re supposed to wash them right? Instead, you just put on his soiled clothes from the day before and go about your business.”

"We don't have a washing machine..." he adjusted the suspenders, the khaki shorts he was wearing clearly had a dried cum and piss stain on the front, and the back of them looked more brown than khaki. The button up shirt had food and piss stains on it as well as a collection of dried boogers here and there.

“It’s probably for the best considering you shit yourself much more frequently and with much bigger loads than your father does.”

A loud fart escaped him but Elliot seemed to follow through on this one as the back of his pants expanded a little and turned a deeper brown, the rear starting to steam a little from the shit. SPLOOSH...SPLASH, some remnants fell out of the the short legs and splashed in the room size puddle.

“God that smells so bad. Good thing your father had the foresight to name you Smelliot! He must have known you’d be like this.”

He chuckled but it turned more into a series of snorts. "Daddy likes to say I came out shitting so thus the name."

“And you’re so proud of it too. Is that why you’re always pulling your slimy shit stained underpants up into an atomic wedgie?”

"Oh SNORT yesh!" another fart escaped him, the splashing of shit hitting the liquid echoing around the room. "Although it's SNORT much more fun if SNORT it is someone else giving me a SNORT wedgie."

“Well gosh, that sounds like something that’s a perfect bonding activity for father and son.”

The patron turns to Dilbert, seeing he's been busy reading a comic book on the couch in his room, his feet gently disturbing the liquid on the floor. He let out a fart as a stream of yellow piss also slid down his left leg.

“Hey Dilbert. Isn’t it time for you and your son to give each other atomic wedgies so you can see who has the most shit caked undies?”

Dilbert tossed the comic onto the couch and got up, waddling over to Smelliot. A lump formed in the front of Smelliot’s khakis. Both seem to do this like it was a routine, each of them reaching into the others pants, getting a grip on their underwear, and then with a quick count down the two pull, the messy underwear being pulled up. At one time both were probably white but were now more a yellowish with brown stains. Smelliot’s undies were worse on account of them being hand me downs.

“Wow if it weren’t for the stink, I would say someone had poured a few gallons of mud in your pants Smelliot. You’re definitely outpacing your old man.”

Dilbert pouted but then let out a crooked yellow smile

"T-t-the d-d-d..." he took a breath. "d-d-d..." a fart escapes his rear as he also fills his pants with steamy shit, "d....doctorrs! did ss-s-say that the conditions are more s-s-severe for the of-of-ofsp-ofsp...the children"

"It's so nice to see a father and a son get along so well. Is it true that for snacks, you guys pick each others ears and noses and eat each other's boogers and earwax?"

Both nodded as Smelliot digs a fat finger into his fathers nose, a slimey snotty booger pops out and he licked it off, a grin crossing his face. "Y-you bet. B-besides the h-h-hot pockets, i-its all he'll eat."

"You're looking pretty hungry yourself, Dilbert. Didn't you say your son makes you a special pizza that you just can't resist?"

Dilbert rubbed his rumbly tummy and nodded. "Y-yes. I s-s-should c-call the pizza place."

Dilbert waddled over to the computer and booted up the EatingOut app, pulling up his previous order of two cheese pizzas. His history seemed to indicate he ordered this every day...

"Well you certainly have the body and cleanliness of a man who eats pizza every day! I'm excited to see what makes it so special!"

"T-they say it w-w-will be here in an h-h-hour." He stuttered as he pissed the front of his pants again.

An hour passed with the father and son feeding each other their boogers before the doorbell rang. Dilbert waddled, the last few steps cause him to blast a fart out into the room. Grabbing the doorknob he twisted it, the door swinging open. "H-h-h-h..salutations!"

The pizza delivery guy recoiled from the stench, almost ready to barf and bail.

"Ah good," said the patron. "I hear the pizza guy in this town loves nerds too and really loves watching you eat pizza so much, that he gives them to you for free!"

The pizza delivery guy laughed and handed the pizzas to Dilbert. "Oh yeah if you haven't seen the way these dorks eat pizza, you are in for a real shock."

Dilbert blushed as he saw the tent the man is now sporting. Carrying the pizza boxes over to Smelliot, Dilbert asked, "S-s-s-sss-smelliot? C-can you p-p-put daddy's f-favoruite toppings on?"

Smelliot smiled and nodded. "Oh SNORT yeth Daddy! I know SNORT how much you SNORT love it!" He put the pizzas down on the coffee table and opened them, sniffing them. Unhooking his suspenders he let the khakis fall into the wet puddles on the floor, and pulled down the front of his tightly-not-so-whities. All it took was a few jerks and he exploded cum all over the pizzas like a special sauce. Then he turned around and with a fart let globs of shit fall on the pizzas.

Dilbert smiled and took a deep sniff. “Mmm, smells delicious." He took up a slice that got nice and coated with his son's cum and shit and took a bite, munching happily.

The pizza delivery guy just chuckled and laughed. "Now you see why I don't even make them pay. I love seeing that!" The pizza delivery guy rubbed the front of his pants until he came in them and then headed back to his truck.

"H-h-he's alway s-s-s-so nice." Dilbert farted while Smelliot started to play his accordion expertly.

"Wow your accordion playing sounds so good Smelliot. Is it true that your father has learned to blast his massive farts in time with the music?"

Dilbert and Smelliot nodded and  exchanged a look. Smelliot changes=d the tune to something a bit more upbeat. Dilbert started to let out farts of different sizes in tune with the music, creating an almost percussive backing to the accordion. Smelliot farted and shit his pants as he played, the farts starting to make the room smell absolutely foul. With a flourish and a long fart the two finished their routine.

"Well, that was just wonderful. You too are just so in synch! It's a real shame that you're both so lonely and unlucky in love. I know that your son loves big fat farting nerds, but is it true that you like them as well Dilbert?"

Dilbert noded and licked his lips "Mm, y-y-y-y affirmative! I love big fat loser nerds!" A smile crossed his face as he came in his pants.

"That's such a shame then that Smelliot is your son! Except, well, I mean it really doesn't matter does it? Love is love and you two ARE perfect for each other. And your son is an adult, albeit a pathetically nerdy shit stained one, so shouldn't he be able to date his own father if he wants to?"

Dilbert slowly nodded as if coming to a realisation. "S-s-s-ss-sure! L-love is love."

Smelliots eyes widened. "But SNORT..." a fart escaped him. "Incest is..." he was quickly interrupted.

"Incest is perfectly fine if it's what you really want Smelliot and you do want it. You both want it!"

The body language between father and son instantly changed. Both not looking at each other, exchanging side glances, but turning away whenever they met each others eyes. Gently Dilbert reached down and squeezed his son's hand. Smelliot farted and shit his pants. "D-daddy.."

“Y-y-you are such a p-p-p-pathetic dweeb." Dilbert said before pressing his puffy lips against his son's, their pudgy noses pushing together, orthodontic headgear clacking together.

Smelliot belched into the kiss, but broke away. "Mmm SNORT...Pokémon bed?" Dilbert nodded and chuckled "You're such a dork!" The father and son held hands as they waddled towards Smelliots bedroom. The patron followed father and son up to Smelliot's bedroom and watched the two get into it.

The nerds peeled off their clothes, exposing their naked, unwashed, flabby bodies to each other, both of them cumming right there and then. Smelliot rolled onto his bed, the frame sagging from his weight. His dorky daddy climbing onto the bed, grinning as his pathetic member was so close to his son's messy, dirty shit chute.

The Patron smiled and with a click pictures of the slobby nerds appeared around the house, one of them a particular picture of them kissing, in dirty suits...in a chapel.

"I love you my stinky son hubby." and with that he rammed his hard member into his son's rear, blasting the shitty hole with gallons of nerdy cum before pulling out, inserting his giant pimpled nose, and blowing thick jets of snot into his son’s asshole. The patron grinned and disappeared, his work here done. He checked the list of other personal trainers with sons in the city and figured out his next target.

i was of the opinion that they would eventually come out publicly but i was still like WHAT THE FUCK when i saw the notif lmao. im surprised that dan hasn't told his family, and i'm very curious to see if phil says anything further (that lowkey video) and if they ever talk at greater lengths about the privacy they want or their experience with the internet. i think there will be less inconsistencies and white lies in lil anecdotes moving forward, and a greater sense of self-awareness in jokes!

oh dude. i hadn’t even thought about that possibility, and maybe it infringes on the whole keeping things private but I would actually love to hear more about how they kept things private. the only times i’ve ever had doubts its always been around how improbable it is that *no one* ever caught them like, standing a little too close together or in the background of some place looking too comfy.

i think i’m more curious about if they’re out of video behavior will change at all, it was already pretty open & queer even before the video

Brio Head Canon Part 2

Rio’s POV

If you’d asked Rio weeks ago if he thought he’d be working with 3 housewives, he’d have told you hell no. Yet here he was having these broads laundering his cash for him at Cloud 9 superstores. 

It was all because of her...Beth...Elizabeth. She’d left a string of pearls signaling her interest in his line of work and he’d been intrigued by her ever since. A better word might be obsessed. He didn’t choose the stalker life. The stalker life chose him. He couldn’t shake this middle class white lady out of his head. He kept perpetual tabs on her and when she called he always had time to meet up with her. 

She was pretty cute with all her little entrepreneurial ideas. Don’t get him wrong they were terrible ideas. Who needed Botox? And since when was money laundering a good idea as a pyramid scheme? But he got a big kick at seeing her face light up as she pitched to him.  She was trying. She wasn’t satisfied with status quo and he had to respect that.

And man did he love to look at her. Mmmm. That frame, those curves. Just thinking of her now made him bite his lip. The things he would like to do to her. 

Not that he would. Nonconsensual sex wasn’t really his thing. He knew the effect he had on women and wasn’t alone unless he wanted to be.

His girl sure made a lot of mistakes. Buying that necklace with his money was one of them (although it looked good nestled between her breasts like that and he had had half a mind to let her keep it as long as she wore it and nothing else). 

Her rotten egg was another. If it were anyone else, he’d make them take care of it themselves. But because it was Elizabeth...he’d handle it. He just knew she’d never be able to kill anyone.

But that woman was stubborn. Wouldn’t give him a name. Fine. He’d let her handle it. She was probably gettin’ taken to the cleaners just to keep the rotten egg from snitching. Rio chuckled. She didn’t want his help, wanted to be the boss. Then, she’d have to learn to live with the consequences.

Rio never got too worried about the FBI, but Elizabeth was starting to. He met up with her and discovered just how on edge she was about the whole thing. She asked him what she should say. And his dumb mouth suggests “tell them I was hittin’ it” and then he proceeds to tease her about making love and making sure she made him sound good. Why the hell was he advertising how much he wanted her? He remembered her flushed face and grinned as he realized it was worth it.

He decided to shut things down for a bit and Elizabeth was chomping at the bit. She was jonesing to get back in the game. He didn’t quite understand why. He figured it was probably partly financial, but there was something else too. He bet she loved the thrill of it...the power...the danger...just like him.

Then, they were back in business. And he had a special errand for Elizabeth. He thought he’d kill two birds with one stone. Get Elizabeth back in the game and see if he had a snitch on his hands.

He didn’t expect her response. She was heated because she thought he’d let her get caught by the cops. She didn’t trust him. If she didn’t trust him, then there was no point in them working together anymore. After her little hissy fit and throwing of the keys, he was done. His interest in her had given her too much power. He was just realizing now how deep he was in it. Hell, he might be developing feelings for this broad.

Then, she goes and asks when. When he was gonna kill her? Was this woman out of her mind? Didn’t she know? He shook his head and reined in his anger as best as he could. No. He needed her to go home now or he might regret what he would say.

And when the Feds got him - he was more hurt than surprised. He knew exactly who it was who’d turned him in

And when he made bail, he knew exactly whose house to visit. But she wasn’t there...that husband of hers was instead. And with the way he was feeling he was itching for a fight. He took his anger out on Dan or Dick or whatever the hell his name was. Then, he waited.

Finally, she came home. And she was surprised by the sight in front of her. He slid his gun over to her and dared her to shoot him. She wanted to be free of him? She’d have to kill him first. 

Yet he knew her. He knew she wasn’t a killer. Knew she wouldn’t have the guts to shoot him. Nah, he just wanted to see her squirm...torture her a little. But that bottom lip of hers trembled and all sense left his mind. Before he knew it he reached out to caress her face. This woman who’d caused him a hell of a lot of problems...and he was touching her face and speaking soothing words to her like some kind of fool. He wasn’t no chump. Rage at the way she affected him surged through him as he turned around and put a bullet through her husband. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, but she had to learn he wasn’t one to be messed with. And shooting her husband seemed the best way to send the message.

He debated introducing Elizabeth to Marcus, but decided in the end that she had to know that she wasn’t the only one with a family. If she screwed him over, she was screwing over his son too. She looked straight up shocked to see him with his kid. Was it that unbelievable for him to be a parent?

Rio kept her in his sight over the next week. He’d pass the job of taking care of Boomer over to her. He probably should have one of his boys handle it, but he still hadn’t forgiven Elizabeth for what she’d done. She owed him. Plus her killing Boomer would give him just the right amount of leverage to make sure she didn’t rat him out again.

He wasn’t surprised and not even mad when he discovered that she hadn’t killed the grocery store manager. He’d listened to her cock and bull story about how she’d murdered him and color him impressed. That woman could lie like no other. It made him wonder how much she lied to him. 

Later he watched as she single handedly replaced a stop sign. She walked over to him afterwards and crumpled. She confessed to feeling tired of the situation and tired of lying to him. She was so vulnerable. Whenever she looked at him with those doe eyes of hers, she practically turned him into mush. He felt a need to protect her, to solve all her problems for her, and that fool hand of his found its way to her face again. He should be mad that she hadn’t gotten the job done but he found he wasn’t. Although it did irritate him that she asked him again if he was going to kill her. Instead, he responded with “I’m gonna teach you.”

So he gave her a few lessons on gun handling. She was ready. She could do it. Did he think she would do it? He wasn’t so sure. He knew she didn’t really want to but she always found a way to get things done.

And girl got lucky. Somebody else did the dirty work for her. She just had to dispose of the body. But Elizabeth had handled her business. In his eyes, she was definitely becoming a boss.

So he had a test for her. He’d hand over his business to her for a bit and see what she’d do with it. A lot of her ideas were crap, but some of them could actually be good.

She’d tried to give him the keys back but he knew it was just too tempting for her to resist. Try as she might she wouldn’t be able to stay away from that storage unit.

And try as he might he wasn’t able to resist her. He could sense her the second she’d walked into the bar that night with that shady husband of hers. He tried to focus on his drink but her eyes were boring into the back of his head. And when he turned to look she was twirling that hair of hers around her finger. Basically begging him to do her right now. “Aw, sh--” he muttered. He was done for. There was no way he was gonna be able to resist the opportunity to get his hands on all her lushness. 

He really should refuse. This woman was sketchy as hell. She lied to him, ratted on him, stole from him... He should stay as far away from her as possible. But when she headed toward that bathroom. He knew without a doubt he’d be following her into it.

When he stepped into the bathroom, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He just waited for her. Y’know maybe she just wanted to talk business. That thought quickly left his mind as Elizabeth hiked the hem of her dress up giving him the most tempting view ever.

From that point on, he needed no further encouragement and his willpower was gone. He had to touch her and touch her he did. HIs fingers shot straight for a moundful of boob. She felt as amazing as he’d imagined her to feel.

Fifteen minutes later, he finished buckling his belt and exited the bathroom. While it wasn’t the smartest decision he’d made, he regretted nothing. He’d just experienced heaven on earth.

But the thing was he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Now that he’d had a taste...he wanted more. So he headed over to that little car dealership of hers and let her husband know in no uncertain terms that they were partners now. Not him and Dean, but him and Elizabeth. He also wanted to let that clown know that he’d had his wife...twice, but Elizabeth’s eyes had pleaded with him. And yet again he was putty in her hands.

As they worked together, he found it harder and harder to keep his hands to himself. He wanted her again, but he didn’t want to want her and he sure as hell didn’t want her to know how badly he wanted her so he kept bringing it up but always made it sound like a joke. If she wanted to bang again, he would 100% be down for it.

But then she’d found out about the drugs in the cars. She was too clever and inquisitive for her own good. And now she’d screwed him out of 50% of profits. He was pissed at being got (not to mention more than a little hungry for her) and so he’d responded with a lewd suggestion about doing her on the desk. That had not gone over well and she practically gloated over getting more than she’d even wanted.

Fearing that Elizabeth was making him go soft, he had to work extra hard to keep up the front that all that was going on between them was just business. If he wasn’t careful, she’d become his Achilles heel. They’d talk about drops and nothing more.

Except when she’d come to him sick with worry over her daughter and crying about some stupid thing her daughter had left in the car, his whipped ass just had to go and get what she was missing. A blanket? Was she for real?

There was no way anything remotely good could come of this. If he knew what was good for him, he’d get her out of his life as quickly as possible. But he’d never been good at doing what he should do.