#and while i figured out how to keep my dad's music off my ipod he couldn't figure out how to keep my songs off his

[cinematicnomad]

∞

all the pain held in your hands are shaking cold your hands are mine to hold

move along—the all-american rejects

✨send me a ∞ and i’ll shuffle my music and share my favorite lyric from the song✨

#ask #asexualdiaz #so my dad and i both got our first ipods for christmas 2005 #and we had to share an itunes account bc we had one family laptop #and while i figured out how to keep my dad's music off my ipod he couldn't figure out how to keep my songs off his? #and to this day he still has some of my songs on his itunes which is HILARIOUS to me #and like some of it is stuff that he doesn't care for like AFI #but he actively DOES like the all-american rejects #(his favorite song of theirs is 'stab my back' lol) #so it's always fun when he puts his music on shuffle and i just kind of wait for a song i loved when i was 14yo to come on

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.17

Lind A: bring me lunch!

It was after eleven. She should be getting up and opening the dojo. This argument wasn’t quite enough to compel her legs to move from the bed, however, so Nairi lifted her phone and answered the text instead.

What do you want?

Lind A: idk get something you like and we can share Lind A: im at my studio!!

k

The ‘a’ button on her keyboard was sticking something fierce, and the black coating was worn away on the space bar and surrounding keys. Maybe she should get a new phone. She let the blackberry slip back down to rest on her chest as she went back to staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. The blanket was too hot where it was wrapped around her legs, and her shoulder was starting to ache where it had been pressed into her pillow and mattress for too long.

What did she like to eat? What did she like to eat that Linden also liked? Or, well, what was between here and Linden’s studio that had vegetarian options and food Linden liked, was probably the better question.

It was another ten minutes before she could make herself stand up and find a pair of jeans.

Almost an hour after that she’d made it to Linden’s studio, coffee and pastries in hand. Loud music was pumping out the propped-open door, grungier rock floating past the concrete paint can in sharp opposition to the cheerful pop from the last time she’d been here. Nairi stepped inside with her offerings, looking around for Linden.

“Oh hey, I thought you’d abandoned me,” said Linden cheerfully, and Nairi tracked her gaze down to see her sprawled on the floor. She was grinning up at her, hips twisted with one knee folded over her thigh, back pressed to the ground.

Nairi held up the paper bag by way of explanation. “Never. There was just a queue. Are you okay?”

Linden nodded sagely and shut her eyes, rolling her hips back down and shaking out her leg. “I had to pick up a box of glue off the craft shop floor this morning and I foolishly bent with my back instead of my knees, so now I must pay for my hubris.” She groaned as she sat up, taking a coffee from the proffered tray and grinning at Nairi. “Twenty-seven is way too young to even be having these issues, I swear to god.”

“Maybe your back’s just advanced for its age,” said Nairi, setting her tea and the pastries down on an unoccupied stretch of counter space.

Linden got to her feet and laughed brightly as she leaned over to her beat up ipod where it was sitting in a dock on the sill, spinning the volume almost all the way down. She straightened to grin at her head on as she reached out for Nairi’s hand. “Dad always said I was precocious. Come on, I made something for you!”

“Oh, what?” said Nairi, feeling the corner of her mouth twitch up as she let Linden tug her across the studio. “I only just figured out how to hang the last thing you painted me.”

Linden laughed again, letting go of her hand to reach up and pull down one of the two jackets from a hook on the back of the far door. “Well, this one hangs in a wardrobe, so I’m sure you’ll figure that out on your own.”

Nairi looked at the leather being offered to her, then back up at Linden, who jiggled the coat hanger at her.

She took it. It was a heavy, white motorcycle jacket, with two crisp stripes running the full length of the sleeves in red and green. The cuffs were zipped with sturdy silver tabs, and the pockets looked to fall just under the ribs with the same zips as closures. It was high-necked and padded in a way she instinctively approved of, with extra buckles at the neck and waist over the front zip. On the back Linden had painted an ourobouros of a dragon in green and black, its eye the same bright red as the stripe on the sleeves.

“Try it on,” said Linden eagerly, nodding at her. “I snooped in your drawers before I bought the jacket, so it should be the right size.”

Nairi felt her mouth twitch again, and she slipped the jacket on over her shoulders. It was comfortably snug around her arms, and heavy in a way that made it feel like it belonged there. The leather was a little stiff, not yet worn in, and the zip sufficiently toothy so that it took a second try to tug it down again. “It’s great,” she said, looking up and smiling back at Linden. “Thank you, you didn’t have to get me this.”

Linden was reaching up bring down its twin, and she glanced back over her shoulder at Nairi as she pulled it on. “Look, I saw them as I was walking past and I wanted one for me, and then I saw the white and I just hadto.” Hers was dark, crimson like her favourite wine-red lipstick, with thick, soft, elasticated fabric around the cuffs and waist hem. The painted embellishments were little lines of matchstick fires around the wide pockets, and a cherry tree in full blossom on the back, with a vintage style painting of a pair of cherries over one shoulder like a fake patch. “It gave me an excuse to break out the good paints too, the ones I haven’t used since I was a student. I had a lot of friends who did costume shit for theatre, the hardcore kind, it was nice to use them again! And like, I know it’s totally the wrong time of year for warm jackets and I should’ve held out for your birthday ‘cause it would’ve been perfect, but I got excited when I finished them and it’s been hard enough keeping my trap shut while I waited for them to dry.”

“It’s totally fine,” said Nairi, watching Linden give a little spin to show off her jacket before she shrugged it off again. “It’s just an early birthday present. Very early—preparatory, so I don’t have to wait for my birthday once it starts getting cold, and now you don’t have to worry about getting something for the day as well.”

Linden laughed again, ushering her back across the studio towards the pastries. “Oh, nice try, but you’re not escaping the birthday fun that easy,” she teased, picking up her coffee and nudging her broken chair towards Nairi with one foot. “Come on, sit, eat, give me the good goss, tell me how you and Aggy are going.”

“There’s not a lot happening, really,” said Nairi blandly, taking her tea back from Linden and sitting gingerly. The chair held, thankfully, if with a little more bounce than she’d been expecting. “You know, everything’s just kind of… fine.”

Linden pouted over her coffee before proceeding to loot the pastry bag. “Oh, that’s boring though! You two never do anything exciting, and you’ve been dating for like, months now. Seriously, nothing new?”

The impulse to laugh bubbled high in Nairi’s throat, and she swallowed it, wondering briefly where it had come from. “I think I’m okay with boring, honestly. Is your dating life not exciting enough?”

That got a snort as Linden resettled herself to lean back against the counter, raspberry crown in hand. “It’s a little cooled down at the moment, I won’t lie. Like, Simon and I are technically still ‘on’,you know, we’re just not, doing as much.”

“Tapering off, or just laying low from Nicholas?” asked Nairi with a small grin, catching the pastry bag as Linden tossed it to her.

Linden rolled her eyes, taking a drink from her coffee. “Si’s a big boy, he doesn’t need Nick barging in to tell him how to live his life. He’s still fun, it’s just, you know, reaching the point where people start making comments about taking him home to meet Dad and it’s definitelynot that kind of relationship.”

“Because you’re not expecting a ring or because he’s not up to scratch?” asked Nairi, tearing at a croissant.

“Yes,” said Linden, laughing. “Fuck, jesus, I’m nowhere near thinking about that, much less with Si’! That and Dad would eat him alive, he’s got an English degree—the only thing worse would be fine art.”

She hadn’t said it with any malice, so it was probably a normal sort of joke to make? “High expectations to meet?”

Linden grinned wolfishly. “Any partner I nail down better be ready to jump,” she joked with a darkly amused tone to it. “Dad’s good at what he does so he has high standards—typical lawyer shit, you know?”

Nairi shrugged. “Most of the lawyers I’ve met have just been dicks, but I think it’s different when you’re working with them as opposed to like, being raised by one. Is he defence or attack?”

Linden laughed loudly at that, hiding her grin behind her coffee cup again before answering. “Prosecutor, he’s a DA,” she said, sounding a little lighter. “Highest conviction rate in the state, only the best efforts for his job.”

“Damn, alright,” said Nairi, raising an eyebrow. “Kind of a bigshot?”

Linden nodded, setting her cup down. “Yeah, he gets kinda high profile sometimes—I don’t know if you remember a couple of years back, uh, Maxim Bailey? That guy?”

Oh yeah, she’d heard he’d been arrested. Nairi nodded, making a general noise of affirmation, and Linden nodded along with her.

“Yeah, he’s still salty he didn’t manage to get him on the murder charge, despite getting the other convictions,” said Linden, still nodding like a bobble-head. “Caught a little bit of media at the time, too.”

“Hell of a job,” said Nairi. Her thigh vibrated and she set her tea down to tug her phone out of her pocket.

“Stressful, he’s been talking about changing up careers for a couple months now,” said Linden, finally stopping the motion of her head.

Aga D: How’s your day? Any students for the first couple of classes?

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek as her thumbs hovered over the buttons.

“Is that your giiirl-friend?” asked Linden, her drawl long and amused, and she lifted a leg to prod Nairi’s knee with her toe, making the chair spin a little.

Nairi glanced back at her phone, tapping out a response quickly. “Yeah, she’s just checking in.”

A couple yeah. Just having a quiet day.

Aga D: I’m glad! I’ll let you get back to teaching and stop distracting you :)

She tucked her phone away and picked up her tea again, suddenly not feeling much like eating anything.

Linden’s eyes were unreadable over her coffee, but she was smiling when Nairi looked at her. “That’s nice of her,” she said with a funny note in her voice. “I’m really happy for you two, you know that right?”

“Thanks,” said Nairi, shuffling her unappetising croissant back into its bag to avoid Linden’s piercing eyes. “I’m, um. I’m glad you both, sort of, uh, adopted me? Even if it’s in different ways. It’s been good. Really good.”

She covered her expression with her tea, not really tasting it as she drank. Why had that been hard to say?

Linden’s mouth twitched at the corner, just a hint of her normal dimples. “I’m glad you let us,” she said warmly, and suddenly her eyes were back to normal. “You looked like you could use a couple of friends when we met, and god only knows Agatha needed a relationship that actually worked out after her streak.”

“Yeah?” said Nairi, leaning to set the pastry bag back on the counter.

Linden nodded, giving her a rueful look. “Yeah, I mean, she told you how we met, right? Her boyfriend of like, ten years or some shit was one of my regulars, and when she found that out she showed up on my doorstep in tears, it was kind of fucking rough.”

“Oh, damn,” said Nairi, for lack of anything better. Ten years?Agatha had left that out.

“Yeah,” said Linden with an exaggerated grimace. “I mean, fuck, I’m pretty mercenary when it comes to cheating and the job, but even I felt bad. I helped her do some vandalism on him, and then I introduced her to Flo and some nice single people who helped her figure out she was into women, so like, it all worked out eventually, but it was kind of a rough time for her, you know?”

“Yeah,” echoed Nairi, feeling the pastry sink to the bottom of her stomach. “I’m glad it worked out, in the end.”

“Like I said,” said Linden, nudging her again with a wink and a smile, “she just needed someone like you to swoop in and be the good, stable girlfriend for her.”

Her tone was light and teasing, and Nairi made herself swallow more tea before she answered. “Right, yeah. I don’t know how ‘good’ I am at the whole, Prince Charming thing.”

She’d been trying for a joke, but it fell flat between them.

“You’re doing fine,” said Linden, her tone softening a little, and she looked at Nairi with earnestness in her eyes. “Seriously, Princess. You’re doing fine.”

End of book 1.

#book muay thai #series honey tree #serial fiction #lgbt fiction #117 #book 1

[justwritethatdown]

Chapter 2 of my high school AU :D

Beca finds herself wanting to know more abou Chloe, but Chloe's friends - and her social anxiety - give her a hard time about that. Also some more insights of her relationship with Jesse, Amy and her family :)

Words Count: 3K

Rating: T

Warnings: Underage smoking and language

Read it on AO3 or under the cut ↓

I don't need much of anything, but suddenly…

“How does it feel to be / Different from me      Are we the same / How does it feel?”

That night Beca fell asleep with the smell of Chloe on her pillow, which made her heart do funny things in her chest.

Maybe Chloe wasn’t that bad after all.

Nothing changed at school between them, Chloe didn’t talk to her the next day or the following couple of weeks – not that Beca tried to talk to Chloe but, you know – Beca told herself she wasn’t disappointed at that. They weren’t friends.

 __

 “Beca wait!" she heard Chloe call after her and immediately turned around to see the redhead running towards her in the schoolyard “hey! What’s up?” asked Beca unable to control her grin. Chloe offered her a pink ear bug, smiling brightly “I wanted to ask you what you think of this song, it came out yesterday I think".

Beca took the ear bug and put it in her ear, the song was already playing but she knew right away it was Airplanes by B.o.B. ft. Hayley Williams “you like Paramore, right?” Chloe checked and Beca was surprised that the girl not only recognized them from one of her playlists, but she knew them well enough to know Hayley Williams was the singer of the group.

Beca’s smile widened while she nodded “yes! And I think this song is really good" she answered looking at Chloe with surprise “what?” giggled the redhead “nothing...” said Beca looking at her feet “I didn’t think you liked this stuff" she admitted looking back at Chloe.

“And what stuff you thought I liked?” asked Chloe biting her lip “I don’t know... Britney Spears?” guessed Beca screwing up her nose and Chloe gasped “you don’t like Britney Spears?” she gasped in shock tugging at the ear bug wire to make it pop out of Beca’s ear “ouch! I didn’t say that...”

“Who else do you think I listen to? Let’s see" asked Chloe in somewhat of a teasing tone “I don’t know, I don’t want to get in worse trouble that I’m in already... just tell me you don’t listen to Mariah Carey please"

“Mariah Carey is the greatest singer of all times" stated an irritating voice interrupting them “Chloe, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Who is that?” asked the blonde girl who joined them “hey Bree, she’s Beca... family friends” dismissed Chloe, putting her iPod away. Beca didn’t know why that statement stung so much, it was the truth after all, they only knew each other because their parents – not that she’ll ever consider Sheila family – were friends.

Aubrey – Chloe’s best friend, for what Beca could understand – looked at her from head to toe in disapproval, before turning back to her friend “come on, Stacie is waiting for us” she said walking away and dragging Chloe alongside with her.

“Bye...” Beca told to no one, since the girls were already gone. She went to class wondering if maybe she was wrong about Chloe and they could be more alike than she though, but even popular girls are allowed to like good music, right?

One thing was sure, Chloe wasn’t even remotely as mean as Aubrey was.

 __

 At lunch Beca was glad Jesse decided to sit with Benji for once, instead of bothering her, so she could make a playlist of songs she thought Chloe might listen to, and one of those she thought Chloe should listen to.

Amy slept in and skipped school that day – something she did almost every Tuesday – so Beca didn’t have to worry about her either.

 __

 “sorry if I stood you up at lunch" apologised Jesse wrapping an arm around her shoulders, knowing very well that Beca would have shrugged it off and be dramatic about him touching her. He giggled when she did just that “you weren’t at my table? I didn’t notice” declared Beca in a monotone voice and Jesse pushed her gently “stop iit" she complained pushing him back “Benji was upset about his chemistry test" he explained without Beca asking “but he got B+” argued Beca and the guy shrugged “it’s the lowest he ever got".

“Where’s Amy by the way? I saw she wasn’t with you at lunch either” he asked “are you going to walk me home?” queried Beca stopping on her tracks – it was a ten minute walk between her house and the school – Jesse shrugged again “if you don’t mind. I don’t have anything better to do anyway" and before Beca could answer, he added “I know you must have missed me today, so you’re welcome" which granted him another shove from the brunette.

“How come you're not wearing your headphones?” “my iPod died at lunch" “aw, because I wasn’t there to keep you company?” he teased “you’re an idiot.”

 __

 The truth was that Beca craved more moments with Chloe, she was intrigued by her. Even if she usually was a pretty good judge of character, she was wrong about Chloe the first time and she still couldn’t completely figure her out yet. At school Chloe was a completely different person than who she was at home, she was nice to everyone and always smiling. And then there was that moment they shared in Beca’s room, that was what confused Beca the most, making her second guess all her assumptions about the redhead.

She wanted to get to know her better, but whenever Beca saw the girl in the hallways with her stupid friends she didn’t have the guts to say hi to her and just focused very hard on her steps to avoid eye contact. Beca hated to interact with that kind of people – she hated to interact with any kind of people – they acted like they owned the school and even if Beca couldn’t care less about that, she didn’t want to waste her time feeling judged by them or worse, letting them make a fool out of her. She really didn’t know why Chloe liked them, but again, she didn’t know Chloe at all.

Another month passed by. Beca never showed Chloe the playlists. It wasn’t important and Chloe probably wouldn’t care about that anyway.

 __

 “Why is this playlist called ‘Chloe'?” asked Amy making Beca’s blood freeze “that- that’s nothing, why do you always touch my stuff?” she gasped struggling to take the device from Amy, who won the fight without any effort “Jonas Brothers? These songs are so not you" added the blonde confused “It’s just... stupid songs, so I gave it a common stupid girl name” she blurred out wincing at her own words.

Amy narrowed her brows “Isn’t Chloe the name of that redhead you met at those ‘fucking lame dinners' with your father and Sheila?” she inquired making the quote marks gesture while repeating Beca’s words “maybe... I don’t know” tried Beca but she knew she was screwed “Beca...” said Amy not buying it at all.

“Yes, it’s her, okay? I made a playlist of songs I thought she lik-" “you never made me a playlist” interrupted her the blonde “that’s different, she’s- that’s different” blurred out Beca. Amy finally decided to let it go with a shrug connecting her loudspeaker to Beca’s iPod, letting the music fill her bedroom.

 __

 “Ugh! Why can’t I just stay with mom?” growled Beca “a couple of weeks at the beach are going to be good for you Bec, why do you have to fight me over everything?” asked her father “I don’t wanna come, dad I wanna work on my mixes, why don’t you understand that?” she whined and ran to her room smashing the door closed behind her.

Her father just informed her that in July they were going on a two weeks’ vacation someplace in Florida with Chloe’s and other two families the Beale used to go on vacation with every year. Beca didn’t have the time to be thrilled about it that she heard the name Posen being mentioned by Sheila. She didn’t even register the other one because she was already spiralling.

Posen like Aubrey Posen. The high bitch in charge at her school, Aubrey Posen. Chloe’s best friend Aubrey Posen. That couldn’t be a coincidence and Beca wasn’t willing to spend a single minute with her, let alone two entire weeks.

“Why is she like this Robert?” she heard Sheila question “what kind of kid doesn’t want to spend time on the beach with her friends?” at the world ‘friends’ Beca felt rage build up inside her – why was Sheila so fucking naive? – but it didn’t last long, because she heard her father sigh defeated “I don’t know honey, I’m afraid I did something wrong with her".

Beca put her headphones on trying to push back the tears that started falling from her eyes.

 __

 “She doesn’t want me, does she?” mumbled Beca sitting on her bed, knees pushed tightly against her chest. Her father looked at her sympathetic, sitting at the edge of the bed “Your mom is...” he trailed off for a moment, struggling to find the right words “she is having a hard time and needs to be alone for a while" he tried his best to explain “but she loves you! More than anything” he rushed to add and Beca rolled her eyes.

Lately her father did nothing but take her mother’s side, funny thing is that when they were married, they couldn’t agree on anything. Ever. Beca supposed he felt guilty about her ‘midlife crisis’ since it started just when he asked for a divorce because he couldn’t keep going on like that – or maybe it was the fact that he was in a relationship with stupid Sheila for about a month before that.

Beca’s blood started boiling in her veins at the thought, it was his fault after all, he gave up on their family.

“I’m gonna go at Amy’s” she spat out jumping off the bed.

“Beca, I need you to tell me you’re coming to Florida” he repeated.

“Whatever” answered the girl before leaving the room. It’s not like she had a choice anyway, her dad was just trying not to feel guilty about yet another thing.

 __

 “So, you’re going?” asked Amy passing her the joint. They were laying on Amy’s bed listening to music, as always.

“I have to" sighed Beca before smoking “I wish my dad was like yours, he lets you do everything you want" she wined “yeah he's pretty cool" laughed the blonde “or too busy to care maybe" she scoffed carelessly “dude, this pot sucks by the way" growled Beca giving the joint back to her.

Amy took another smoke before agreeing “I know, but I bought it from Luke" she explained “ugh, that dude is an idiot! He wrote ‘Meghan’ on my fake ID” complained Beca. The blonde stared lamely at her for what felt like forever, before cracking up in a loud laugh “Beca all fake IDs have fake names" she gasped trying to stop laughing. Beca looked at her blinking quickly before starting to laugh too.

“Anyway, he is an idiot yes, but he’s hot, so I don’t care" stated Amy “okay but never buy his pot again" demanded the brunette taking back the joint.

“So how are things going with Jesse?” asked Amy out of the blue “what do you mean?” “I mean you have this thing going on for a while now, when are you going to make it official? If you know what I mean...” said Amy wiggling her eyebrows, Beca felt slightly nauseous at that.

“There’s nothing between Jesse and me" she said defensively “oh come on Beca, you two are always attached to the hip!” growled the blonde “you don’t have to hide it from me" she said more softly “he's always attached to my hip I've got nothing to do with that!" spat out Beca getting up “I know you, you wouldn’t let him near you if you didn’t want to" pointed out Amy.

Beca knew her friend was right, she never let anyone get too close to her, but for some reason she allowed Jesse to do that and she had to admit she liked having his invasive ass around – not to Amy anyway, she was never going to admit that to Amy.

“That’s none of your business” she cut off rising the volume on her iPod to end the discussion.

 __

 When Beca came back home she found a brand-new soundboard to connect to her computer – the one she’s been asking for and her dad always denied her – sitting on her desk.

It was the same way she got her headphones, she got into a fight with her dad about something concerning the divorce somehow, stormed out of the house and found them at her return. Robert knew it wasn’t the best way to deal with conflict, but he really didn’t know how to deal with a teenager in full rebellion mood, so expensive gifts were his go-to in these cases.  It wasn’t enough for Beca, but she decided to take what she could from this situation. She didn’t like to deal with conflict either anyway.

The girl spent the whole night trying all the functions her new device offered while thinking about Chloe. She spent most nights thinking about Chloe recently. She thought about what it must be like being at the verge of the high school social ladder, having everyone’s eyes on you all the times – a kind of pressure Beca couldn’t be able to stand, for sure – how it felt to be respected, feared even, by the whole school and mostly how would it feel to be bossed around by Aubrey all the times.

Aubrey gave Beca chills. It wasn’t that Beca feared her – she didn’t fear anyone – but there was something about her that made her stomach clench, as if she was under examination. She knew Aubrey judged everybody from her high throne and Beca didn’t think enough of her to care about that, but what scared the brunette was that Aubrey’s stupid opinion could affect what Chloe thought of her.

By the time sun started creeping up from her window, she had decided that suffering through two weeks with Aubrey Posen was a small price to pay to get to know Chloe better. Her social anxiety will have to come to terms with that.

Beca threw herself on the bed, cursing her decision to staying up all night on a weekday. Her clock showed it was half past six and she briefly wondered if she could push it a little and try to gain a ‘you can skip school today’ too from the argument she and her father had, but she knew Professor Mitchell considered school the most important thing ever, even over the peaceful atmosphere he tried so hard to maintain in their home. She groaned and set her alarm to an hour later before falling asleep in her outside clothes.

Of course, she didn’t hear the alarm going off and now she was super late. As she fumed to gather all the things she needed for the day she jumped at the sight of Sheila’s head peeking from her not-closed-anymore bedroom door.

“You’re late" she stated with that irritating tone Beca really didn’t want to hear first thing in the morning.

“I know that, thanks” spat out the teenager.

“Let me drive you to school” offered the woman now fully standing in Beca’s room.

“Absolutely not" said Beca without looking at her, still busy looking for her maths' notes.

“You left a notebook in the kitchen the other day, maybe that’s what you’re looking for" told her Sheila before leaving the room.

After getting ready Beca went to the kitchen and found the notes. Sheila was sitting at the kitchen table, probably waiting for her. Beca groaned “okay let’s go" as if she was the one doing the woman a favour.

Beca was sure it was a trap, so she rushed to put her headphones on to avoid any unwanted discussion about her weird behaviour or whatever. Surprisingly Sheila didn’t try to talk to her at all and when she stopped in front of Beca’s school she even offered the girl a sweet smile “have a good day”.

“Yeah...” murmured Beca under her breath before leaving the car.

 __

 It was a shitty day, like if she was under a heavy cloud; she forgot to charge her phone, her head was killing her and Jesse didn’t shut up for one second all morning, not to mention math class – which was always a nightmare. Beca was about to commit murder when suddenly Chloe approached her at her locker.

“Hey" breathed out cheerfully the redhead and Beca found her breath catching in her lungs “I’ve heard you’re coming to Florida with us this year” she continued with her classic bright smile. Beca’s heart started racing and she was positive her face was red “I- yes, we- uh...” she rambled focusing, on nothing in particular, inside her locker. “I’m glad you’re coming" at that Beca forced herself to look at Chloe and try to mirror her smile.

“Hey babe" she heard Tom call from the other side of the hallway. Chloe turned towards him with heart eyes and accepted his kiss when he reached them. Beca felt nauseous watching that – she hated pda and cheesy happy couples.

When they parted Tom friendly nodded at Beca “hi, I’m Tom" “Beca" she said shaking the hand he offered her. Beca tried to smile at him, she really did, but all she could manage was a grimace. The girl was never so glad to hear Jesse’s “Beccaaawww" approaching her.

“Uhm, sorry, I have to go. It was nice meeting you Tom. Bye Chloe" se excused herself locking the metallic door and walking to Jesse. It was the first time she’d ever said Chloe’s name to her face and was still marvelling at the sensation it gave her, when Jesse started to throw a million words at her again, but she couldn’t focus on him at all. For some reason she kept replaying that stupid kiss in her brain over and over again.

“Earth to Beca?” called her Jesse snapping his fingers in front of her “what happened to you? You’ve been weird the whole day" he asked in a somewhat of a worried tone “I didn’t sleep" she told him “why not? You can talk to me you know” he assured her, but behind him Beca spot Amy in the distance shamelessly gesturing at her with her index finger entering a ring she was making with the other hand “gross...” whispered Beca glaring at her.

“What?” asked the guy confused “dude you need to leave me alone okay? You’re not my fucking boyfriend” she snapped making some students turn to look at them. Jesse was staring at her with a hurt expression and she regretted right away snapping at him – it was Amy’s fault not his.

“All right” he said raising his hands and turning no leave. Beca wanted to stop him, but she was too proud to apologise.

“Troubles in paradise?” asked Amy joining her “Amy fuck off!” “geez somebody woke up on the wrong side of life today" she exclaimed rolling her eyes and walking away, she knew it was best to leave Beca alone when she was like that.

#bechloe #high school au #beca mitchell #chloe beale

[sadaboutniall]

something about you;

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Six. November, 2008. 

A week and a half into November, the calm, cozy, comforts of autumn in Mullingar begin to give way to winter. The weather bites more every day as the temperature falls, the wind picks up, and the nights stretch longer and longer. People are beginning to talk about Christmas—mam has already called to ask if he and Greg are going to come over on the 24th or the 25th, and at least one store in town has put up their lights already, even though Mullingar’s official tree lighting ceremony isn’t until the first weekend of December. 

Still, autumn clings on. Niall can smell it in the air when he leaves school on a Tuesday afternoon, backpack slung over one shoulder, chilly air flooding his lungs. His cheeks flush from the cold almost as soon as he steps outside, a bright red to match the color of the few leaves that still linger on the trees. The school yards are golden in that way only autumn brings—cold but still lively, bursting with color and excitement before winter zaps it all away. 

Mully’s with Emilia but Niall’s taken to enjoying his walks home alone these days. Sometimes he listens to his iPod, imagining himself singing Viva La Vida on stage, or Hotel California. Other times, he just lets his mind wander—thinks about the songs he’s writing, the places he’d like to travel to, the people he’d like to meet. It gives him time to feel like he’s anywhere but Mullingar—like his life is one that’ll make an impression on the world beyond his tiny hometown, beyond the streets and the skies and the stone walls he knows so well. 

Most days, he doesn’t see many people along his route, which is why he’s surprised, that Tuesday, to turn the corner and see a familiar figure a few feet ahead of him. She’s walking with her head down against the wind and her hands deep in her pockets and Niall doesn’t really have control over his inhibitions, it’s almost automatic for him to call out, ‘Isla! Hey!’

She turns around, wind whipping her hair backwards into her face and it’s like a shot from a music video or a rom-com, one of those moments where everything slows down and the only thing in focus is the person the main character is falling in love with. Isla tucks her hair behind her ear as her eyes light up, autumn sunlight glinting against brown irises, and she waves her other hand in greeting. 

Niall picks up into a slight jog and Isla waits for him to catch up to her, her smile soft and sweet, her dimples prominent. Once he’s at her side he slows down, and they fall into step with each other as Niall catches his breath. 

‘Where are you headed?’ He asks, as soon as he can speak without breathing too heavy. 

‘I’m babysitting today,’ Isla looks over at Niall, still smiling. ‘The O’Hagan’s little boy, Aiden.’ 

‘You babysit for the O’Hagans? They’re right around the corner from me,’ Niall can’t put his finger on why it feels so weird not to know that Isla’s been spending time so close to him. 

Isla hums a response, a pretty sound that makes Niall think about writing a song. It would be gorgeous, he thinks, the sound of her hum layered under his singing voice. Isla carries on, ‘usually in the evenings and sometimes on Saturdays, but they need me this afternoon, too. Aiden’s a sweetie, and it’s good money.’

‘For sure,’ Niall nods, hitching his backup up as it starts to slide down his shoulder. ‘You can head into Dublin and go shopping, like.’

‘I could, yeah. Been saving it, though,’ Isla hesitates for a minute, like she’s nervous. Niall’s quiet, and then she carries on. ‘I know it’s stupid and so far away but if I want to be able to go to uni in London… I mean, I don’t know if I’d get in or anything, but I need to have money saved up for a flat and stuff.’ 

‘London?’ Niall feels shaky at the idea of Isla so far away. At the idea of Mullingar without her. At the idea of her getting out of this place before him. Niall knows his uni prospects aren’t great, and, without a miracle, there’s no way he’d be able to afford to move to London. He’s trapped here for the rest of his life, the way his whole family has been for generations. It’s an idea he’s never been fond of—but it feels so much worse without the thought of Isla by his side. 

‘I know it’s stupid,’ Isla says again. ‘But I’ve already saved almost 400 euro from babysitting and birthday money. Plus my communion money, which my parents put away for uni, too. If I actually manage to get an acceptance anywhere… I think I can afford to do it.’

‘It’s not stupid,’ Niall rushes to say. ‘And neither are you, Isla. There are millions of unis in London, you’ll definitely get in somewhere.’ 

Isla’s quiet for a few moments and they keep walking together, their shoes crunching over fallen leaves, Isla’s uniform skirt fluttering in the chilly wind. Niall’s eye catches on the flash of skin just above her knee and it hits him that she’s worn her knee high socks today instead of the tights girls usually wear when it gets cold. He lets his eyes trail up her body, slowly, and he lands on the way her arms are crossed over her chest tightly, her lips pressed together from the cold. Something tightens in his stomach. 

‘Are you cold?’ He asks, although the answer is obvious. He realizes it now: the apples of her cheeks are flushed pink and she’s shivering a little, only wearing her school sweater. He can’t believe he’d been so oblivious. 

‘It’s okay,’ Isla tightens her arms around herself. ‘I overslept this morning and I was rushing. Couldn’t find my stockings and I forgot my fecking coat. Bit of an eejit when I’m tired, really.’ 

‘You’re fucking freezing,’ Niall doesn’t let himself hesitate. He stops walking and drops his book bag to the ground before pulling his grey Derby jumper off over his head. Now he’s in just his school sweater, but he doesn’t mind. ‘Isla, it’s like 8 degrees out. Here.’

‘No, what, Niall,’ she shakes her head, but Niall can tell she’s freezing. She’s staring at his jumper, practically shaking. ‘Now you’ve got nothing.’

‘I’m a lad. Lads run warmer than girls, here, take it. Plus, if you catch a cold out here then Aiden will catch one too.’ 

Isla hesitates, but when she reaches out to take the sweatshirt her hands are shaking, practically purple from the cold. In his chest, Niall’s heart pangs pathetically as he watches her slide into his clothes. She looks like something Niall’s seen in his dreams. 

Niall’s so skinny that his hoodie actually looks a little snug on Isla, but she’s grateful nonetheless, and Niall can’t help his fluttering stomach when she tucks her chin against her shoulder to hide a shy smile. He wants to see her like this all the time: in his clothes, in front of everyone. Or, he thinks, a sudden flash of something embarrassing in the pit of his belly, just for him, tangled in the sheets of his twin-sized bed, just his sweatshirt, nothing else. He feels bad thinking about her like that, shakes the idea away as quickly as he can. 

Isla asks about his plans for the evening and he tells her about how he’s part of the starting squad for Friday’s football match, for the very first time. They talk football as they walk: Isla about Arsenal, Niall about Derby, and she teases him, bangs her shoulder against his as they joke, tilts her head to give him smiles that make his chest warm and his stomach stir. He hardly even notices when they round the corner to the O’Hagans, doesn’t put two and two together until Isla puts her backpack down to take off his jumper.

‘No, no,’ Niall stops her, hand coming out to rest on her arm. They both still, wide eyes, shaking hands. ‘Keep it. You can give it back to me tomorrow.’

‘Niall.’

‘It’s fine, Isla. You’re cold, and Aiden’s gonna want to go to the park, probably. I’ve got a million more jumpers at home.’ He means it, the logical reasoning—but he also likes the thought of her in it, even when she’s not with him. 

‘Thank you,’ she says, quiet. Now that he’s standing still, Niall realizes how much the temperature dropped while they were walking. He can see Isla’s breath as she talks. ‘The, uh. The uni I want to go to in London… it’s King’s College. Their law program.’

‘Shit,’ Niall lets out a low whistle. ‘That’s brilliant, Isla.’

‘I don’t know if I’ll get in,’ she says again, and it makes Niall want to scream. ‘I just… I haven’t said that aloud to anybody yet. Not even my mam and dad. I just… just wanted to say it. To someone.’

‘You can say anything to me,’ Niall’s freezing, but he doesn’t dare move. ‘Anything.’

Isla presses her lips together and then opens her mouth. She takes two deep breaths, eyes locked on Niall and he can feel it, can almost hear what she’s about to say—what he so badly wants her to say. He thinks he could throw up from how badly he wants it, from how close they both are to it. 

A gust of wind blows Isla’s hair back into her face and Niall doesn’t stop himself this time. He reaches out gently, tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. It’s soft and sweet and he lets his fingers trail down gently, his thumb tracing the outer shell of her ear. Isla’s hand, freezing cold and shaking, grasps Niall’s wrist and they stay like that for a quiet minute, the sun setting around them, eyes locked on each other. 

‘I know,’ is what Isla says eventually. It’s so quiet, just for him. ‘I know I can. Thank you.’

And then she drops her hand. And he does too. And Niall is frozen to the ground as he watches her pick her bookbag back up, throw it over her shoulder, and turn to walk up the path to the O’Hagan’s. When she reaches the front door she turns back around one last time, a soft smile, a sweet wave, and then she lets herself inside and Niall’s still there, freezing and on fire, his heart battering against his ribs like it’s never done before. 

####

taglist: @stylishmuser @thicksniall @stayclose-holdsteady @niallhoranruinsme@ajayque @halfpinthoran @flickerswinehouse

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#one direction #1dff #one direction fan fiction #niall horan #niall horan fic #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan imagine #niall #something about you #we're almost there lads!!

[jennfercheck]

What are some Just Eddie Things

oh anon you opened pandora’s box with this one

eddie spends a lot of time in his room listening to music. when he was a kid he found his dad’s old cds in a box and snuck upstairs to his room and spent all day listening to elvis and the platters and fleetwood mac and queen on his CD player (because he knew he’d be in big trouble if his mother found out he went digging through his dads things again) and so began his love of oldies and 70s music and he spends half of his childhood dancing around to his dad’s favorite music, jumping up on his bed and spinning in his desk chair and singing into his hairbrush

he likes to collect snow globes. which is interesting because he has never stepped foot out of derry. but his (cool) aunt travels all the time for work and so she sends him a snow globe from every new state she visits. he only has about 30/50 but he loves them all. his favorite is from oregon

he. lives. in. sweaters. he lives in them! he is always wearing them! christmas sweaters? check. university sweaters? check. oversized sweaters with horrific patterns on them? check. embroidered sweaters? check. eddie kaspbrak loves sweaters.

he claimed casper the friendly ghost as his favorite movie the second he saw it at age five. he heard “can i keep you?” and absolutely lost his fucking mind. also he liked to imagine that if his dad had lived, they would’ve been a lot like casper and his dad

when he got his nintendo DS the first thing he did was invite richie over so they could play their DS’s together. except they got so distracted by sending each other pictochats of poorly drawn portraits of them and their friends that they never actually got around to playing anything

he is ridiculously good at hide and seek. like to the point where the losers refuse to play with him. one summer, they played at bill’s house, and eddie hid in georgie’s toybox for two hours—he refused to come out because he wanted to see how long it would take them to notice that no one had found him. and they knew that was exactly what he was doing. so they left him up there for two whole hours

for the first four years of his life, he got constant ear aches, so he spent a lot of time on the couch with a warm rag over his ear and cartoon network on the tv (he would change it from PBS the second his mother fell asleep). his favorite show to watch was power puff girls and he didn’t care who knew it. and this is why his item for show and tell was a powerpuff girl book that READ the words in THEIR voices OUT LOUD in the first grade

bill is his designated errand friend. if eddie needs to pick up ibuprofen from the store, bill is there with him. if he needs to wander around a mall aimlessly to vent about his mom, bill is there with him. hungry? let’s go bill. wander around walmart aimlessly because there’s nothing else to do? come on bill i know you’re not busy.

when he gets his first ipod, his mom (unsurprisingly) puts a password lock on it so that whenever he wants to buy something she has to put her password in. one day she lets it slip that the password is his dad’s middle name. go figure that it’s HIS first name. and that’s how eddie ends up with “birthday cake” by rihanna on his ipod in eighth grade

every time he has to get gas, he drags someone along with him. it used to be richie but then he got gas all over eddie’s shirt because he pulled the pump out too fast and eddie had a panic attack because he thought that he was one second away from erupting into flames. so now he brings everyone but richie because he has ptsd

he hates vans. eddie kaspbrak said FUCK vans i would rather chop off my own feet than wear fucking vans, i’m not tony hawk, fuck you, i hate california and i hate you you van wearing fuck (words he actually said to richie once)

he sucks at writing papers so bad and eventually he has enough of sucking and goes to ben for help. they of course get sidetracked by talking about their crushes that go nameless because neither of them are about to admit who it is they’re really talking about but they both know and they both know that they know but ALSO know that what they say to each other is confidential

he draws hearts on everything... this is a Ceritifed Eddie Thing

he has never washed a dish in his life and one night they have dinner at mike’s and they have to clean up the mess and eddie is like “mike where’s your dishwasher” and mike’s like “oh we don’t have one :)” and eddie malfunctions he literally does not understand what that means at all because they only ever use the dishwasher at home because his mom says the soap and tap water could give him a rash

he loves roller skating but he acts like he isn’t good at it and then the losers go roller skating and he leaves them all in the fucking dust without a single glance back. they’re all fumbling against the wall (mike is able to go around with some mild wobbling) and eddie just glides past them like “it’s easy!” and everyone yells at him to shut up all at once

his favorite color is purple. that’s all

he doesn’t really like to be touched all that much. and physical affection makes him feel Weird. but. he fucking loves hugs. he loves hugging and being hugged (but only by the losers.) in most loser club photos eddie can be found clinging to a member

and last but certainly never least: he loves taking pictures but like only of his friends. his entire camera roll is just photos of his friends literally just existing. bev laying in the grass during the summer with a smile on her face. mike leaning his head on stan’s shoulder while they laugh at something together. ben gaping at richie because he said something particularly upsetting about their history teacher. bill jumping with georgie on the trampoline with a big ol smile on his face. richie with ten french fries stuffed into his mouth. a blurry self timer photo of them crammed into a booth at a diner at 2am, whipped cream on their noses because apparently it was going to look funny according to mike. and eddie loves every single one

#i waxed way too fucking poetic and literally all of #these are so fucking niche and i PROJECTEDDDDFFFF BUT LISTEN. IM RIGHT IM RIGHT IM RIGHT #anonymous

[styles-is-the-name]

Just Before You Go - Part One

this is my first shot at a harry-y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. Harry is a single father of two that hasn’t even looked at another woman in years. For the first time in five years, he finally feels like he’s returning to himself all because he met someone unexpectedly at a grocery store. Even though his kids are determined to help him find love again, will it be possible? (There eventually will be smut, but will mostly be fluff.)

TW: suicide, self harm, and others will occur

Word Count: 1,735

“Dad, Darcy won’t get out of the bathroom! I still need to brush my teeth.”

Harry groans. Raising a nine and six year old on his own was not easy. But he was doing it because he loves his kids. After Caroline had taken her own life four years ago, he vowed to never let his kids feel alone or unloved. Although he and Caroline were going through a divorce, he still cared for her.

She was the mother of his kids after all! And she was his first love. They were high school sweethearts. He proposed at their high school graduation party and they were married shy of a year later. He was head over heels for her and it devastated him when he found out that she was cheating.

“Darcy, let Carter brush his teeth!” He smirks slightly hearing her groan.

“Fine!” She walks into the kitchen sulking.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” He sits down in front of her sipping on his coffee. Black and steaming - just the way he liked it.

Caroline always loved cream and sugar in her coffee.

“I don’t want to go to school, daddy.” Harry frowns seeing the tears well in her eyes.

“Hey hey hey. Baby, talk to me. What’s going on? It’s a new school year!” She nods sniffling and looks down at her hands.

“I just...can I stay home today?”

“Is this your mental health day?” She looks up at him smiling lightly and nods. “Alright, pumpkin. But we have to talk, okay? You remember the rules.

“To get a mental health day, we have to have lunch and talk. Even if I don’t completely tell you what’s wrong, I have to tell you how I’m feeling.”

“Exactly. Now go change into something comfy. After I drop Carter off at school, we’re going grocery shopping then by the studio. I have a client coming in today.”

“Can I bring my iPod to play my music?”

“Of course. Go on!”

“Thanks daddy.” She giggles quietly kissing his cheek and runs up to her room.

Harry realizes that not every parent is so relaxed with their kids missing school, but he believes that academics come second. Mental health is the first thing that matters no matter what the situation is. He will be damned before he repeats his past mistakes. He’s not losing his kids like he lost Caroline.

A few minutes later the three of them are buckling up in the car. Harry turns on the kids’ favorite playlist that they created on his phone while looking back at them. Sometimes he wonders how he got so incredibly lucky to have two amazing kids. He truly doesn’t deserve them.

“Daddy, is Darcy taking her day?”

“She is, Bubba. But we’ll be here to pick you up after school and we’ll go get ice cream and talk about your day.”

“Can I get my purple monster?”

“Well of course! It’s not really ice cream without the purple monster now is it?!” He snickers while his two children giggle in the back.

He pulls up to the school and parks the car. He and his two kids get out and they both grab at his hands. They always hold hands while walking in a parking lot. It’s the safe thing to do. Harry walks Carter to his classroom squeezing his hand when he senses his nervousness.

“Go have fun, Bubba.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Bubba?”

“I-I’m scared.” Harry smiles lightly kneeling in front of him. He’s always loved how honest his kids are with him.

“I know, Carter. I know. But today will be a great day. It’s only what you make it to be! Go in there and find someone to color with. And learn something today too! If you do, you get another sticker.” Carter gasps.

“Then I’ll only need one more sticker to get the prize on top of the fridge!” Harry smiles and nods. “Yes! In your face, Darcy!” Darcy sticks her tongue out at him making Harry shake his head sighing.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough. Now give daddy a hug and go have an amazing day.” Carter hugs Harry’s legs then runs into his classroom.

Harry stands outside the door for a few minutes watching anxiously. His nerves are calmed when he sees a young girl walk over to Carter and the two begin drawing together. His heart warms at the sight.

Darcy intertwines her fingers with his and pulls him out to the car. He gives her a look telling her that she can sit in the front seat, but only if she doesn’t tell Carter. He would throw a fit if he found out his sister got to sit next to their father. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“Daddy, when we’re at the store, can we get more cherries? Oh, and watermelon!”

“Of course, pumpkin. But remember we don’t have much time. My client is supposed to be at the shop in an hour and a half.” She nods buckling her seat belt.

Harry manages to snag a parking spot towards the front of the grocery store which never happens. He always ends up having to park far out. He lets Darcy go and look at all the flowers as well as toys telling her she can get one thing while he does all the grocery shopping.

Harry goes to the produce section crossing things off of his list. He needs lemons, limes, tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, watermelon, and cherries. He grabs the lemons and limes first then makes his way over to the lettuce and cucumbers. He isn’t sure why there are so many people in the store right now, but it’s aggravating him.

There’s never this many people in here. Everywhere you turn, you almost bump into someone. It sucks, but he has to keep his cool for his daughter’s sake. He manages to make his way over to the watermelon and cherries. All he needs now are the tomatoes for taco Tuesday tomorrow.

Taco Tuesday is the kids’ favorite meal. Even if they’re on vacation, they always have taco Tuesday. It’s a family tradition. He reaches for the perfect, plump looking tomato when his hand brushes a woman’s.

“S-sorry!” You say nervously. You look up to Harry quickly and feel like you can’t breathe. You have never seen someone so beautiful before. He smiles lightly at you and hands you the tomato.

“It’s alright, love.” And he’s British too?! Sounds like the perfect man. You sneakily look down at his hand and see that there’s no ring. How is this man not taken? Or maybe he is - he's just not married. Whatever the reason, you’re kinda glad. “Are you new around here?”

“Oh! Yeah I am. I’m from New York.”

“Interesting. What’s a New Yorker like yourself doing here in North Carolina?” You feel herself beginning to smile. You couldn’t help it. You’ve never met a man so attractive yet interested in what you have to say.

“I got a job transfer actually.”

“Yeah? What do you do?”

“I’m a struggling teacher. I taught kindergarten back in New York, but I moved here for a high school English position. I found out a few days ago that my acceptance was wrong. They meant to accept someone else named Y/N.”

“I’m sure you’re an amazing teacher. I know that you will figure something out.”

“Thank you. And what do you do?”

“I have my own tattoo shop.”

“That’s so cool! My mom has her own tattoo shop up in New York.”

“Really? Wow! I’ve never heard of a female tattoo artist if I’m being honest.”

“I know. She started out as an artist, but then found her way into tattoos. She’s been doing it for twenty-seven years.”

“That’s incredible! My shop has only been open for a few years, but I love i-“

“Daddy! I wanna get this coloring book!” Darcy runs over with a JoJo Siwa coloring book.

Y/N’s heart aches hearing her call him daddy. So he is taken. That’s just lovely.

“Okay, pumpkin. Put it in the basket.” He looks up to you smiling nervously. “I’m Harry by the way.”

“I-I’m Y/N.”

“Wow. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He smiles at you making you feel lightheaded again.

“I’m Darcy!” She sticks her hand up smiling widely. You lean down giggling and shake her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Darcy.”

“Are you going to be my new mummy?” You feel your eyes bugging out of your head while Harry chokes on his own air. I mean how do you even respond to that?! But wait! She said new mummy. So maybe that means he isn’t taken?

“Darcy! You don’t just go around asking people that!” She sighs looking up to him.

“I just want you to be happy, daddy.” You smile lightly hearing just how much she cares for her father and kneel in front of her holding both of her hands.

“Your daddy and I just met and he’s a wonderful man! But I won’t be your new mommy. No one could replace your mommy! I never met her, but I know she’s an amazing person.” Darcy’s eyes fill with tears.

“If she was an amazing person, she wouldn’t have hurt daddy and killed herself!” Darcy runs to the women’s bathroom leaving Harry there in tears.

“I’m so so sorry, Y/N.” You smile lightly feeling your heart break for this man you just met.

“It’s okay. Do you mind if I try to talk to her a bit?” He hesitates looking around you. Maybe having a woman talk to Darcy would help.

“She didn’t want to go to school today. I don’t know why, but she was crying at the kitchen table this morning.” You nod squeezing his hand.

“Go get the rest of your groceries and check out. I’ll take her to Starbucks and we’ll sit down. Take your time because I have a feeling this might take a while.”

“Thank you...I don’t know what to say or do. I mean we just met and you’re already going through so much trouble for me.”

“Everyone has their past, Harry. Not everything is all rainbows and unicorns. I understand that more than anyone.” You smile at him and he nods nervously.

Well...let’s see if your psychology major will be of any use.

#harry styles #justbeforeyougo #love #fanfic #onedirection #smut #fluff #hopeless romantic #Just Before You Go #solo harry #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik #niall horan #one shot #hs1 #hs promo #harry styles fanfic

[cmncisspnandmore]

Ruined

Request: Hey, I love your work and was wondering if you could do some like plutonic Hotch x teen reader maybe she’s like wears all black and always listening to music and gets into trouble a lot at school, and he needs to look after her for a case and maybe finds out somehow that she’s just really depressed and self harms (if your okay with that) and he doesn’t know what to do so asks the others for help and then gets a call saying she ditched school and he finds her and talks to her and stuff.

Pairing: Plantonic Hotch X Teen Reader

Warnings: Depression, suicidal ideation, Anxiety, Blood, Some gore. Triggering content!!! PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF IT'S GOING TO TRIGGER YOU!!!!!

AN: Hello lovely people, it’s me your author. Please if you are feeling like this in any way or you feel unsafe. Please seek help. As a human who has had many many mental health struggles (Including one recently) I understand that you don't think it's worth it. And that it won't ever get better. I mean heck, look at me, i’m 21 years old, i’m getting married next year, and I still don't have shit together mentally. But I promise if you hold on things will get better. It might take years but you won't know if you don't try right? So if you are feeling unsafe please contact someone. My inbox is always open. 

~~~~

“Hotch, we got a problem.” JJ’s voice chimes on the other side of the radio.

“What? Is everyone okay?” Hotch adjusts his vest, and watches as the other agents on the team file out of the house. Sandwiched between Morgan and JJ, is a teen girl. Her black hoodie is pulled tight around her body, headphones limply lay around her neck and her face is streaked with tears. They had been called in to help the local police force with a case. Young parents were being murdered in their homes, their children left for dead in the bathrooms. There had been 3 couples killed, along with their kids. Hotch was sure that when they got a call from the neighbor that the child of this couple would also be amongst the bodies that the medical examiners were carting away. 

Hotch stepped forward as JJ and Morgan handed you off to the paramedics, they sit you down in the back of the ambulance and checked you over for injuries as Hotch spoke to the two agents. 

“How is she still alive?” The senior agent glances between them.

“I found her hiding in a crawlspace in the basement, she said her mother heard her father talking to Unsub at the door, when the man pushed his way into the house her mother shoved her down the basement stairs and hid her. She said her mom swore up and down that she was away with some friends for the summer. So the unsub changed his course and only killed them. But Hotch, our profile on this guy makes me think he's not going to stop until he has her too.” JJ explains glancing over his shoulder to look at the girl who is sitting in the back of the ambulance, ignoring the EMT’s questions. 

“Does she have any family?” Hotch asks, turning around, watching as the girl shoves the Emts hands away as he tries to pull up her sleeve. 

“I told you im fine. Please leave me alone.” She yells, reaching up and gripping her hair, as more tears spill down her cheeks.

“They’re in Africa, her Aunt and Uncle are over there, they’re doctors. They are due to arrive back in a few days. I figured she would be safer with us until we catch the Unsub.” Morgan explains as Hotch takes a few steps towards the ambulance. 

“We’ll look after her until they get back.” Hotch crosses his arms across his chest, and walks over to the back of the ambulance. You look up as he walks closer to you, and you cross your arms over your chest, glancing down at your battered shoes. 

“Hello, Im SSA Hotchner, but you can call me Hotch. Can i ask you a few questions?” He takes a seat next to you, and you pull your hoodie closer. 

“I’m Y/N, and sure..” You mumble, looking down at his shiny shoes, your fingers turning white from gripping onto your hoodie so hard. 

“Agent Jareau, said your mom told you to hide from the man who was pushing into your house. Did you know the man?” 

With a shake of your head, more tears start to fall, “no.. he sounded like one of those guys who go door to door to sell you stuff..”

“A salesman?”

“Yeah, like the one you see in movies that try to sell you vacuum cleaners. But he was trying to push his way into the house after my dad said he wasn't interested. That's when my mom told me to go hide. So i went down into the basement, that's when I heard my mom screaming. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but all I could hear was her screaming. And then there was silence.. An..and i knew that he had killed my parents. I waited until I heard him leave the house before I even dared to move. I guess my neighbors heard my parents screaming because that's when I heard the sirens. But I was too afraid that he was still in the house, and when Agent Jareau called down the stairs, that's when I came out of the crawlspace.” You choke out, your throat closing making you feel like you couldn’t breathe. 

“It’s going to be okay, we’re gonna catch the guy who did this. Agent Morgan is going to get in contact with your Aunt and Uncle, but until they can get back you’re gonna stay with us.” Hotch wrapped an arm around you as you sobbed into his kevlar vest. 

“Where is your bedroom? I can send an Agent up to grab you some clothes.” He rubbed your arms, and you sniffled, looking up at him.

“No.. no i want to get my own stuff..” You wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve, and stand up, your battered converse hitting the ground.

“Are you sure?” Hotch looks at you, taking in your all black jeans, and a hoodie. Black streaks of mascara running down your face as you hastily wipe away the tears that you were fighting to hold back.

“I'm sure. I just need a few minutes.” 

With a nod, he walks with you up to the house, where numerous officers and agents are walking around, taking pictures of evidence, and dusting for fingerprints. By the front door a large puddle of blood still sits on the floor, and your swallow back bile that rises in your throat. That was your father's blood, there was no denying it. He had been the one to open the door, he was the one who was attacked first. The tangy smell of copper assaults your nose as you walk up the stairs to your room. Agent Hotchner is close behind you, and he watches you as you carefully move around the room shoving some clothes and personal belongings into the bag. While your back is to him you open the small box you keep in your nightstand and take a quick inventory of your supplies. 8 gleaming razors shine back at you and you snap the box close, shoving into the depths of your bag. After you’re sure you have everything you wanted and needed, you turn back to the agent who is studying your artwork on the walls. At least a hundred scraps of paper with small doodles and poems litter your walls. Most of them appear to be happy but if you read or looked closely you could see they only masked the broken things within them. You clear your throat, gaining the attention of the profiler. 

“All set?” He glances over at you, and clears his own throat. 

With a short nod you brush by him and make your way outside to the lawn where you can see 3 black chevy suburbans are waiting. 

“You can ride with me, I'm the only one with extra room right now so I hope you don't mind.” He guides you over to the first SUV, he opens the passenger side door for you and climb in, setting the bag at your feet. 

You watch as he walks over to the other side and slides into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life and he starts to drive down the road. The ride is silent, until he reaches the police station. There you are questioned by many officers, they all ask you the same thing, to recount what happened and anything you could remember about the day and the last few weeks. You tell them all the same thing, no you didn't see anyone hanging around your house, no your parents didn't have enemies. After hours of answering questions you were fed up with talking so you pulled your ipod from your pocket and turned on the loudest song you had and blasted it. Shutting all the talking and questions out, you put your head down on your hands and got lost in the songs that streamed from the ipod. 

After a few songs a hand touched your shoulder, and you jerk up, your hair falling into your face and you rip the headphones from your ears. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. But we can go now. I have arranged for you to stay in the other bed in my hotel room. Unless you would rather be with Agent Morgan and JJ. But they don't have an extra bed, and the other members of my team are staying here to work through most of the night to try and catch the man who did this.” Hotch explains as you try to calm your racing heart. 

“N-no, that's fine.” You push back in the chair and stand, and he gives you a soft smile, and gestures for you to follow him out to the parking lot. 

You drive there in silence and nothing is said until you get back to the hotel room. 

“I have to make a quick phone call, feel free to change and do what you need to do.” He smiles and shuts the door behind him as he steps out into the hall. You sigh in relief and quickly discard your hoodie. You root around in your bag for the small box and pull it open, grabbing one of the blades and your hoodie, you shove the box back into the depths of your bag. You hurry into the bathroom, turning on the shower for good measure. You put the toilet seat lid down and sit down, you roll up the sleeves of your shirt, and stare at your scarred wrists. You take a shaky breath, and press the blade against your skin, dragging it across. The pain cuts through the fog in your head. 

You couldn’t process everything that had gone on today, you were swimming in thoughts. You couldn't get image of your fathers blood out of your head, you couldn't stop hearing their screams. You couldn't stop hearing the deafening silence that came after. Tears were falling nearly as fast as the blood, it was pooling on the tan tile of the bathroom. 7 bright red cuts stared back at you from your wrist. Taking a gasping breath you grab a small hand towel and press it against your wrist, and it turns it from white to red fairly quickly. You hadn’t anticipated going as deep as you did but you couldn’t take it back. You rummage around in the bathroom and find a small first aid kit. You wrap the wounds tightly and eventually it stops bleeding. After taking a few minutes to bury the washcloth in the trash can and put away the first aid kit. You clean up the floor, flushing the bloodied toilet paper down the toilet and turn off the shower. You throw on your hoodie and throw the blade in the trash can before exiting. When you get into the room Hotch is sitting on the bed with a large Manila folder which you assume is the case file on your parents. 

“You didn't have to fake being in the shower if you needed a moment alone. I know today has been rough for you.” Hotch looks up from the folder, and you stare at him, your heart is racing. Does he know? Did he figure out why you went into the bathroom?

“Everyone needs a quiet moment, especially after what you went through today. Its normal to want to be alone for a moment.” He offers you a small smile, his gaze returning to the folder. 

You give him a small nod, and climb into the spare bed, it wasn't very late, but you were exhausted, as soon as you laid down you fell into a dark and dreamless sleep. 

~

Hotch stayed up most of the night, reading over the files, having hushed conversations in the hallway with the rest of the team, eventually around 2am he fell asleep. Only to be woken up by a phone call at 7, Gracia had found some important information on the Unsub and your family history. 

The phone call pulled your from your dreamless sleep, and you sit up as Hotchner is pulling on his suit jacket. 

He puts his gun into the holster and turns to you. “I’ll have an agent collect you in a few hours, feel free to order room service, just don't leave this room, and don't open the door to anyone who isn’t hotel staff or an agent.” 

You give a small nod and watch as he leaves the room, after a few moments you go over to your bag, you put on one of the outfits you brought with you. You shrug on a different black hoodie, this one has your favorite band splashed across the front of it, you grab your headphones and ipod and slip quietly out of the hotel room. You start off down the street, making your way to your childhood home. The yellow police tape still hangs from your front door, the smell of bleach and cleaner wafts from the open window in the living room. The crime scene cleanup crew must’ve left it open to try to air out the smell. But nothing could completely cover the tangy smell of coopery blood. Your parents blood. You duck around the back of the house and sit on the small porch swing your father put up for you when you were 8, and begged him for a place you could watch the thunderstorms. You pull your knees up to your chest, resting your chin against the tops of them. The happy memories this house gave you flood back, and tears well in your eyes. Because behind every happy memory you had in your childhood home, a darker one lingered. Sure your parents were great, they never did anything bad to you, they never hurt you. You never had any real hardships, your life was okay. But what your parents couldn’t protect you from, was your own mind. For years you had always thought about what it would be like to take a little too much of a pain medication. Or jump from a height that was just a little too high. You had thought of grabbing the wheel of your mothers’ car when she was driving and steering into oncoming traffic. You had those thoughts for as long as you can remember, but it wasn’t until you got into highschool, that people started to make comments about you. When they pushed you in the hallways for no reason and called you names, that you decided to act on those thoughts. 

You were 14 when your parents found you unconscious on the bathroom floor, you had swallowed an entire bottle of your mothers’ pain medication. You were rushed to the hospital, spent a small time in the psych ward, you lied your way out. Claiming you didn't mean to take that many, that you didn't know what you were doing, that you haven't slept much and it was your sleep deprived mind that caused you take too many. When your parents started to lock up some of the heavier medications in the house you had t o find a new escape. So you turned to cutting, and for now that was working. 

~

“Hotch,” Aaron pressed the cell phone to his ear turning away from the detectives.

“She’s not here man, I checked the entire hotel.” Morgan tell the senior agent, and Hotch lets out a breath, running a hand over his face he mutters that he’ll go look for you and hangs up on Morgan.

He gets into the SUV and starts to drive, he’s not really sure you would’ve gone back to your house but it was a good place to start. Gracia had told him about your stay in a psych ward, about how you had mandatory therapy through your highschool. She also told him that before the end of the school year your best friend had reported to the guidance counselor that she was worried about you, that you might be delving into drugs or something because you had suddenly lost interest in everything. Hotch presses down harder on the gas pedal, his mind racing that your parents dying could be the thing to set you over the edge. 

He whips the SUV into the driveway, and approaches the house seeing that the crime scene tape is untouched, he concludes you haven't gone into the house, he walks around the side of the house and sees that the side gate is open slightly, he can also hear the slight creaking of a swing. He rounds the corner slowly, and that's when he sees you. You’re sitting on a porch swing, your black hoodie discarded on the porch under your feet, and your fingers are absently tracing your wrist, from where he's standing he can see angry red lines and raised scars litter your skin. 

He walks over to you, and you jump as he places his hand on your shoulder. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear him come up behind you. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/N.” he crouches down and takes in your tears stained cheeks. 

“But what if i'm not…  What if i'm never okay. I don't have anyone anymore.My parents are gone. My best friend thinks i do drugs. I have these thoughts and I just want them to go away and they just won't go away.” You cry and Hotch reaches forward and pulls you off the swing, he clutches you to his chest. He whispers soothing words into your hair as he holds you and you finally let yourself be the broken, and ruined girl that you are. After almost an hour of him just holding you letting you get everything out, he looks down at you. 

“Y/N, i promise before i leave that i will make sure you aren’t alone, that you will get the help you need. I will even give you my personal number so you can call me at anytime. But I promise you. You’re going to be okay, it might take years, but eventually you’ll be okay. Just don't put those walls back up. You have to let people in. Because if you don’t, then we won't be able to help.” You wipes a stray tear from your cheek. 

You sniffle and nod, “Okay… I want you to help me.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

Criminal minds:

@talktomeniice

@reapeared

@banananna99 

@cynbx

#criminal #minds #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #aaron #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotch x reader #platonic reader #teen reader #triggering #content may be triggering #hotch x you #hotch x teen! reader #sad #sad reader #depression

[bapyess1r]

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: cursing, age difference, fluff, angst

CHAPTER 9

Talia’s POV

“Tali… look at me.” He said as I spun around in the passenger seat of his boat. I avoided his gaze when he approached me. He stood between my legs and cupped my face with his large hands. “Baby, I-”

“I know… And I understand…. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.” I replied. I stared at the water a while before getting the courage to look him in the eyes. They shone rather brightly from the sun. He shot me a smile so handsome it made my heart wrench.

“You have so much here to keep yourself busy until I get back. You have the band at your disposal, you have classes to teach, you’ll have the keys to the house so you can use the punching bag in the backyard if you ever want to hit something…” he began to list all of the things to keep me busy and I took a deep breath to keep myself from crying. “I’ll be back before you know it. It’ll be like I never even left.” He said. I sighed, resting my hands on his wrists as he pulled my head to his.

“How long is this one?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“Two weeks at best. And if anything changes, you’ll be the first to know. Okay, sweetheart?” He said slowly, kissing my lips and then my temple. “Now let’s enjoy the rest of the day, hm?”

I remembered that day. Sam had gotten a call from his pal Chloe. I never met her but I remembered her from his stories. They were on a job in India. He agreed to do some recon and be her decoy for her in her search for Ganesh’s Tusk. When he told me about it, I couldn’t even imagine how a journey like that would go. I figured it had to be the most adrenaline fueling thing. I couldn’t wait until Sam would tell me I was ready to accompany him but I also didn’t want to die so I would stay behind and train my hardest until that day.

I had woken up earlier than usual. It was 7:00 am. We would usually jog around this time. The sun had barely come up yet so I put on my jogging gear and threw my hair up in a ponytail. I readied my iPod for running music when I noticed my Godfather sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at his laptop. He smiled at me and I approached him with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re up early, Goddaughter.” He said placing his warm hand over mine.

“Usually am. Sam and I go running around this time. Just because he’s gone that doesn’t stop me.” I said with a slight frown, patting his shoulder. I leaned on the side of the table as we continued to chat.

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot lately.” He said, continuing to write his report. I hadn’t really told my Godparents I had been seeing Sam in the romantic way. Not that I didn’t want to, it just never crossed my mind to tell when things got serious.

“Uh… yeah.” Was all I could muster.

“I hope he’s treating you right.” He said suddenly, surprising me. “I’ll kill him if he doesn’t.”

“You knew?” I laughed nervously.

“I’m on the force for a reason, Talia Alyssa. Just like I know you’re trying to train to go with him on his next job.” He told me, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I can’t say I’m too happy about it.”

“Well it’s not for you to decide. Matter of fact, I don’t think it’s any of your business-” I mumbled, fidgeting with the tangled earbuds in my hands.

“So what do you expect me to tell Dave and Delores if anything happens to you?” He said, glancing at me a moment. I flinched at the mention of my parents. “‘Oh uh hey Dave, your daughter- my Goddaughter is out traipsing the globe with an ex-convict, want me to tell her to send you a postcard?!’-”

“It’s too early for this bullshit…” I chuckled, shaking my head in an annoyed fashion as he tried to pick a fight. He was always like this. I was the apple of his eye until I did something he didn’t approve of. Then he’d berate me into years. He always knew just what to say to blow my mood. I tucked my earbuds and started to head for the door.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this some time, Talia!” He said running his fingers through his short sandy blonde hair.

“Yeah- well it doesn’t have to be now.” I said numbly, raising the volume on my music as I walked out the door. With that, I began to run.

I pushed myself during my morning workout, all the way to the hill where Sam and I would stop to watch the sunset. My Godfather had found a way to work my nerves again and I laid out on the grass to call the one who could soothe my restless mind. My mother. The phone rang and rang for a while. It was still early so she could’ve been sleeping still. But when she finally answered, I almost wanted to cry. “Mommy…” I choked. Hot tears ran down the sides of my face, mixing in with the sweat. I sobbed softly on my end.

“He did it again, huh?” I heard her sigh in annoyance. “I’m gonna have a talk with him because he’s been doing this far too often and I'm not okay with that.” She rambled. “What did he get all pissy about this time?”

“I fell for an older man and now I’m suddenly training to travel the world.” I blurted. I was afraid of how she’d react.

“How old is he?”

“42…” I mumbled.

“That’s not… awful. It’s a little older than I’d like but you’re approaching 30 in a few short years-”

“My thoughts exactly. And he’s ridiculously handsome and funny. And he’s so smart… he’s a historian slash….collector of antiquities….” I began to gush about him to her.

“A historian? Wow! Your tastes have certainly changed.”

“He’s not like the stuffy kind though. He’s… different… And I’m learning a lot really! He specializes in Pirates...”

“Well that’s good! And you’re traveling the world now?” She asked, sounding impressed.

“Not yet but I’m training for it…”

“You have to train to get on a airplane?” She asked and I chuckled. My mom was adorable.

“No, mama. His work requires a lot of scaling and… hiking…” I lied. I knew if I told her about the guns and such she’d disapprove. And I’d never hear the end of it. “I like to say I’m dating Indiana Jones.” I smirked. Just as I stood up to go home, the sun rose above the clouds, painting the skies orange and pink as I heard her positive laughter on the other end.

“Oh lord… When do you get to go?”

“When he declares me ready enough. He’s away on a job right now so I’m doing solo training in the meantime…” I began to start down hill.

“Where do you think you’ll go?” She asked me as I decided to walk home instead of run, to spend time on the phone with my mom. I told her everything about him. Laid it all out on the table. Even about his jail time. The short brief version that Sam had given me so she knew it wasn’t his fault.

I concluded my conversation with my mother at the docks where I had my morning smoke. “You’ll talk to dad about it right? I don’t want Godfather James to go blabbing to him about me dating an ex-convict half my age.” I said rolling my eyes.

“I’ll talk to him. We all know he’s been prone to spinning the truth a little…”

“Thank you!” I sighed in relief.

“So other than this situation… you’re okay?” As she spoke, I noticed The Morgan rocking gently on the waves as it was docked and smiled to myself.

“I can honestly tell you that I’ve never been happier.”

“Good. I’m glad. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Yeah it has… Well I gotta go now. I’ve got a lot to do today…”

“Alright, monkey. You need to call me more often. I don’t know what’s goin’ on down there, yknow? I love you.” She said in her motherly voice.

“I know. I love you too, ma. Talk to you later.”

With that, I hung up and started on my fresh pack of cigarettes. As I placed one between my lips and lit it, I received a voicemail from an unknown number. I furrowed my brows as I hit play and pressed and let it play out in my earphones.

“Hey, darlin’, it’s me…” it began and I ceased all movement. I could hear Sam’s raspy Boston accented voice loud and clear. “I miss you so so much and I wish you were here with me. You’d love it. The grass is green, the water is the clearest blue, and the flowers are...small and purple but uh… vibrant nonetheless.” His voice almost brought me to tears. I missed him so much. He’d only been gone a week but it felt like forever. “The job is going as planned. Might’ve hit a snag for a second but we pulled through.” He sounded tired. I hoped he was getting enough rest. “Now, just because I’m not there right now, I hope you’ve been training and taking care of yourself. Um….” I heard him blow a raspberry on the other end and I chuckled, finally taking a drag of my cigarette that had just been burning this whole time. I could just hear him smiling on the other end, wherever he was. “I can’t wait to get back to you… I’m gonna video call you tonight so be near your laptop, mmkay? I gotta go now. Um… take it easy, be safe driving if you go anywhere, have a good class if you’re teaching today, have a successful rehearsal….. aaand I’ll talk to you soon, sweetheart. Drake out!” I smiled to myself, cringing at the last bit. He could try so hard to be “cool” sometimes when he didn’t need to be. But I liked it. It made me laugh.

My day was dreary to say the least. I taught a kids ballet class and a teens hip hop class scheduled for this morning and this evening. It was hard to pay attention all day and it made classes a little rough today. I wasn’t on the ball. When I came home, I sat in my car to roll a blunt and smoke for a little bit. I stared at Sam’s empty house and sighed. I wanted him back home, that’s for sure. I missed his hugs, his voice, the corny jokes, and the way he smelled. Whilst I sat there, stoned out of my mind, I had a thought. I quickly tapped out the blunt and grabbed my dance bag before running to Sam’s. I let myself inside and I fought back a sob. Feeling embarrassed about it I made my way to his fridge and stole the bottle of scotch he was always drinking. I never saw the appeal in it but he always looked damn good drinking it. I popped the top off and took a sip before sealing it and placing it in my bag. Then I made my way to his room. It smelled like him. Cologne, cigarettes, and beer. I opened up his closet to browse his range of tee shirts and bold Hawaiian prints before my eyes landed on a black crew neck sweater and a dark plaid button down shirt. Immediately I snatched them and a random blue graphic tee off the hangers. “Well shit, hun. Maybe you do have some taste.” I said to myself. On my way out, I grabbed the blanket we used to wrap up in when we watched TV and one of his books from his shelf. The one I always tried to read when I came over but he would always scoop me in his arms and tell me how good I looked reading. Almost always ending up in sex so I could never continue. Smirking, I tucked the thick book under my arm and turned to leave.

That night after my shower, the first thing I put on was Sam’s plaid shirt. As I sat on my bed, I turned the TV on and dried my hair, setting up my laptop for Sam to call. I went downstairs to ask my Godmother if she needed any help with the kids but she told me she was fine so with a disappointed look I said my “okay” and returned upstairs with snacks to keep watching TV. I changed the channels a few times when I didn’t like what came on. That’s when I stopped on a channel playing Raiders of the Lost Ark. I chuckled as I grabbed my snacks from my mini fridge and the bottle of scotch. I was actually enjoying myself and for once didn’t feel like shit. That’s when I heard a ping from my laptop. It was a message from Sam.

Cap’nDrake: You awake, Princess?

I cackled at his username for a moment before responding.

Tali_Sc0res: Your username is ridiculous.

Cap’nDrake: Well I’m not changing it.

My laptop let out a little twitter as he requested a video call. Immediately, I got up to close my door and mute my TV. I adjusted my hair and let his shirt hang off my shoulder a bit before answering. Suddenly, he appeared on screen from his desk, his upper body covered by a thin white tank, reading glasses perched at the bridge of his nose, cigarette smoke exiting his nostrils as he ran his fingers through his wet hair. The scar above his eyebrow that always seemed to get reopened was covered by a bandage but other than that, he seemed fine. I smiled brightly as I watched him put away some maps and close up some books. “Heya, sweetheart!” He grinned warmly as he pulled the glasses from his face. I pouted a bit as he did so as he bit his lip, taking in my entire appearance. “My god, you look delicious- is that my shirt?!” He asked, narrowing his eyes to get a better look at me.

“Maybe.” I replied as I scrunch my face and take a large sip of scotch.

“You raided my house?” He chuckled, rubbing his hand across the stubble on his face. “That miserable, huh?” He could read me very well.

“Honestly… I think I’m handling you being gone pretty well. Today I just… My Godfather pissed me off early as hell in the morning and I really just wanted to be with you.” I sighed, thinking about the conversation I had with him this morning.

“What’s little Jimmy bitchin’ about now?” He didn’t sound worried one bit as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“He found out about us and he didn’t hesitate to tell me how much he didn’t like it.” I said, taking a long sip of scotch, the burn feeling much better than my current emotions.

“Aye aye! Take it easy, sister. That stuff’s not cheap.” He nagged through the screen. I chuckled through the bottle and put the cork back in it, sitting it on my nightstand next to me. “As for James,” he made a face acknowledging the pettiness of my Godfather. “Don’t let him get to you. He has a tendency to lash out when things don’t go his way. He’s a little bitch like that.” He said in an unconcerned tone.

“Trust me I know. We’ve butted heads almost all my life. He’d get mad if I was on the phone too long or if I wasn’t interested in something he was talking about…”

“Listen, I’m sure he means well.” He reached offscreen and brought a beer to his lips before placing it back down.

“He called you an ex-convict.” I told him and he burst into laughter. Literally loud and boisterous, slapping his knees and clapping. I chuckled to myself as he found amusement in my Godfather’s comment. He spoke when he finally calmed himself down enough.

“Jesus, James! Tell me how you really feel.” He giggled.

We continued to talk for a few and he told me all about what he’d seen in India. The landmarks, that statue work, the puzzles they found all over the place. He spoke of how he was leading Chloe’s competitor on a wild goose chase by lying that he was a Hoysala expert. Only he could get away with something like that. The mouth on that man was talented in more ways than one. Then he asked me how things were going on my side of the world. “I have a dance recital comin’ up. The kids get to show what they’ve learned then the other teachers and myself do a dance too.”

“Now we’re talkin’!” He beamed at me. “When?!”

“Would you even be back in time?” I sulked.

“Hey, now. Pick your head up, sweetheart.” He said. I lifted my head but took my gaze to a random corner of my room, giving an annoyed huff. “Look at me.” I tilted my head and brought my eyes to the screen. “I’m gonna be there.” He stated. “I’ll be sittin’ right in the front row so save my seat, sister!” He grinned. That made me feel good. That meant he might be home soon.

“I will.”

“Now, I can’t stay up with you for too much longer but would you do me the honor of granting this… poor old man a favor?” He said dramatically clutching his heart through his shirt. I gave a flirty smirk and adjusted myself to sitting back on my heels.

“What do you need?” I mewed.

“Would you sing for me?” He asked. It was such a pure request from him that I blushed, covering my cheeks with the long sleeves of the shirt.

“Really? You want me to sing?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, doll.” he looked at me longingly and I couldn’t stop myself from becoming a blushing mess. “Now I know it’s not selling out a stadium or anything but it’s one fan who’s really missed hearing your voice… Song of your choice of course.”

I rolled my eyes with a laugh as I reached next to my bed to pull my acoustic guitar from its case. Sitting the guitar in my lap, I thought long and hard about what to sing for him, briefly checking the tuning of the strings. Without much preparation, I began strumming the chords and plucking the strings to Strange Land by Niki. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes, lighting another cigarette and taking his beer in hand to relax as my voice carried through the laptop.

Here for the nosedive

Whatever you need

And I'm savin' all the bold lines

I'll say 'em while you sleep

You're sleepin' on the wrong side

And I'm turnin' endlessly

Screamin' for my lifeline, lifeline, life

Ooh, continental drifter

Still, I'm the hero of my hometown

Now I'm all laid up with you, sentimental trickster

Maybe in another lifetime, lifetime, life (oh)...

“Wow… it’s almost like I’m hearing you sing for the first time all over again.” He said with a sentimental tone. He gave me a genuine smile.

“Goodnight, Sam…” I sang softly. He reached out to touch the screen for a moment and gave a small smile.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll be home soon…. I love you.” He said before terming the connection. My heart skipped as I stared at the black screen. ‘Did he really just say that to me?’ I thought with a smile as I put my guitar away. I spent the rest of watching Indiana Jones with a goofy look on my face.

#uncharted 4 #sam drake x reader smut #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake #uncharted smut #uncharted #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted x reader #sam drake smut

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Forty Six

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

March 18th, 2019

Dee looked at everyone in the room in the courthouse with confusion. They were smiling and laughing and chatting like they had done this a million times before. They hadn’t done it a million times, but they had done it three, so maybe they were just that familiar with each other.

Whatever the reason, he was uncomfortable being slightly dressed up and just standing around in court doing nothing. He clung to Remy’s leg like his life depended on it, and when they finally started talking about signing papers, Dee felt relief flood through him. Even if this meant he couldn’t go back to Mama, he wouldn’t be stuck in this courthouse forever.

And anyway, if Mama left him, didn’t that mean that this new family taking him in was a good thing?

March 18th, 2020

Dee was happy enough that he was jumping up and down and flapping his hands like mad. He was wearing his adult villain gloves, because he had outgrown his old ones but Dad got him these so that he didn’t have to go without villain gloves at all. These he just had to grow into.

They were at his favorite pizza place, the one that knew his particular preferences for pizza and didn’t give him or his family weird looks when they ordered a white pizza with extra cheese and sausage. It was the anniversary of his adoption, and while he had gotten a mini-party two weeks before with his family for his seventh birthday, Lucy wasn’t able to come and have dinner with them like he had hoped. But today, Dad and Ami had talked with Lucy’s moms, and they all had agreed that they would meet here, as a belated birthday celebration in addition to his adoption anniversary.

As soon as they walked through the door, Lucy exclaimed, “Dee!” and ran over to hug him.

He hugged back, tight, before taking off his gloves and shoving them in his coat pockets so he could sign. “I’m so glad you came!”

“Well, of course!” Lucy signed back. “I was super sad I couldn’t do it on your birthday, but this is almost as good!”

Dee grinned and flapped his hands before signing, “It’s better! Because this is the reason why I know you in the first place!”

Lucy frowned. “What do you mean?” she signed.

“Well, if I hadn’t been adopted by Dad and Ami, I wouldn’t be going to school with you!” Dee explained.

“Oh!” Lucy said out loud. “Yeah, I’m really glad you got to be adopted, then!”

Dee nodded. He was really glad too, and he didn’t want to think about where he would be if he weren’t with Dad and Ami. It definitely was not a pleasant thought. Would Mama have stopped taking pills? Would he have had to talk to way more police people? Would he have been taken away anyway, only this time he wouldn’t have been with Dad and Ami? He didn’t know, and that really scared him. Hence why he didn’t think about it often, if at all.

Lucy tapped his arm and Dee looked up at her from where he found himself staring at the floor. “You okay?” she signed.

Dee smiled softly. “Yeah. Just started thinking about not nice things.”

“Oh,” Lucy said, nodding her understanding. “Yeah, that’s no fun,” she agreed. “Do you want to find a table with my moms and your family?”

“Yeah,” Dee agreed, and the two immediately looked for a table that could house the ten of them.

When they found a likely candidate, everyone sat down and, because the customers were allowed to seat themselves, a waitress came right over with a bright smile. “Hello there! How can I help you tonight?”

“Hi, we’re going to be ordering...” Ami trailed off, before signing at Lucy’s moms. At their response he said, “We’ll be ordering three pizzas. Two large ones, regular sauce, pepperoni on one half and veggie lover’s on the other, the second one plain cheese on one half and green peppers and black olives on the other, and then a small, white sauce, extra cheese and sausage.”

The waitress laughed. “Oh, you must be the Picani’s! The manager talks about you a lot. Usually to say why you should never judge someone for their pizza order, because you come here often and tip well because no one else takes the order seriously.”

“That’s us,” Ami said cheerfully. “We’re here with a school friend of the youngest. He’s very excited about it.”

Dee noticed that one of Lucy’s moms was translating what Ami was saying for the other. When the waitress left, the conversation moved solely into the sign language territory. Mostly introductions, explaining who was who to one another. Lucy’s mom who was Deaf, who was wearing a denim jacket tonight, smiled and signed, “Your ASL is amazing for only knowing it one year.”

Logan signed back, “Well, Dad and I have had more practice than one year, but my teacher has said that my signing improved greatly since Dee joined the family. Full-immersion does wonders in learning a new language. And since Dee only would speak when he knew we wouldn’t know the sign and no one was around to translate, it really was like full-immersion.”

Lucy signed, “That’s really cool! I didn’t realize most of you didn’t know sign before! You’re naturals!”

“Not really,” Roman signed with a laugh. “My sign was terrible for the longest time. I constantly had to ask Dee to slow down, and I still do when he fingerspells. But I’ve been getting better.”

Ami lightly waved his hand and signed, “Before the food comes, we have a gift for Dee to celebrate his adoption.”

Dee was surprised, thought he didn’t know why. He had gotten presents on his birthday, both from the family and from Lucy. But he forgot that he might get a gift on his adoption.

Dad passed over a small bag to Dee and Dee took it gingerly. He sifted through the paper and found a pair of earbuds, which he played with for a few seconds before sifting through the paper more at Ami’s encouragement. He pulled out a small-ish rectangular device that sort of reminded him of a phone, except it had a circle where the keys would be, and the screen was small. “What is it?” he signed.

Ami and Dad both laughed, and Lucy’s moms were cracking a smile. “I never thought I would see the day,” Ami signed. “It’s called an iPod. It stores music and podcasts and stuff so you can play it whenever you like.”

Dee blinked a few times, before putting the earbuds into the iPod and then his own ears. “What do I do to start the music?” he asked.

“You see the symbols of the sideways triangle and the two little lines? Press that,” Dad signed.

Dee did so and his eyes widened as he recognized one of the songs that Logan liked to listen to, one of the few that he was allowed to play without headphones around Dee, and the one that was Dee’s absolute favorite of Logan’s songs. He took out one of the earbuds, surprised that he couldn’t hear the music in that ear anymore, before putting it back in. He grinned. “Cool!” he signed.

“Ami and I found that in the basement in one of the moving boxes, and we cleared out what little music was still on it before downloading songs we knew you liked,” Dad signed. “We figured it could help some in crowds. It’s not the same as noise-cancelling headphones, but it still will give you something to focus on.”

Dee grinned wide and signed “Thank you” over and over again. Then, “Can I keep them in while we eat?”

“Well, yeah, if you want,” Ami signed. “We’re all going to be signing anyway, so you won’t be missing out on any of the conversation.”

Dee flapped his hands excitedly and slid the iPod into his pocket. Lucy was grinning at him. “That looks like it was a really good gift!” she signed.

“It is!” Dee exclaimed. “And on my birthday Dad and Ami found a weighted blanket in my size! They know all of my sensory problems and they help with them, instead of telling me that I need to get over them, like some of the mean kids at school do!”

“That’s great!” Lucy signed. “I’m really happy for you!”

Dee nodded. “They also help Logan when he has similar problems.”

“What?” Logan signed. “I don’t have those sorts of problems, do I?”

“You don’t buy certain shirts or pants because they ‘feel wrong,’ you can’t stand certain music because ‘the lyrics don’t sound right,’ you can’t touch chalkboards with any part of exposed skin, nevermind fingernails, without squeezing your hands repeatedly until you can run your fingers under water or on something that ‘feels better,’” Dad supplied. “You do all of this without realizing it, but yeah, Logan, you have sensory issues.”

Logan looked momentarily stunned. “Oh,” he said, out loud. “I didn’t realize...” he started to sign, but his hands drifted down as his thought process trailed off. “I don’t know.”

The pizza came while Logan was still brooding over this fact, and the conversation moved to lighter topics. Lucy and Dee talked a lot about school when they weren’t eating their slices of pizza, Roman talked about how the school play was coming up in April and how he had most of his lines down but the blocking kept tripping him up, and Patton and Virgil talked a lot about the books they were reading. Virgil adored Animorphs and Patton was still enjoying The Magic Tree House whenever he could.

Eventually, Logan joined in on the conversation again, when Lucy’s moms asked Logan and Dad where they had learned to sign. They signed an hour-long conversation, and when all of the pizza was eaten and their drinks gone, Dee was starting to yawn as one of Virgil’s slow songs came on the iPod, acting like a lullaby. “We should probably head out,” Dad signed. “I think Dee’s a little too tired for dessert.”

“I’m not tired,” Dee protested, before yawning again.

“You’d fall asleep face-first into whatever dessert you had,” Roman signed with a grin.

Dee whined in protest but didn’t do anything else outside rub his eyes. He was tired, and it had to be getting close to eight, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go home and get ready for bed.

“We should be going, too,” Lucy’s other mom, the one who was wearing bright pink lipstick, signed. “Lucy will need to go to bed soon. It is a school night, after all.”

Lucy tilted her head back and groaned, before hugging Dee. When she pulled apart, she signed, “I had fun tonight.”

“Same,” Dee signed.

“Oh, and do you like the book Mom found for you? There aren’t a lot of kid’s books out there with characters who are mute, so I hope just finding one who was autistic is okay...”

Dee smiled. “I love it a lot, Lucy. It’s nice to read, especially when the bullies give me a hard time.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Lucy signed.

Everyone stood, and after Dad and Ami left two twenties on the table, they all walked outside and went their separate ways in the parking lot. Dee was a little sad, even though he knew that he would see Lucy tomorrow. He had sorta hoped that tonight would never end.

“Chin up, Dee,” Virgil said as they all got in the van. “You get to listen to your music a little while longer before you have to go to bed.”

“And you get to see your best friend tomorrow!” Patton chirped.

“Not to mention that just because tonight is over, doesn’t mean we’re not going to be here tomorrow,” Roman added.

“And while it might seem unfair to cut the night short, we really should get back home. If you want, we could read the book Lucy got you again before bed,” Logan offered.

Dee yawned again and nodded. That sounded really nice. Ami drove out of the parking lot and started the trip home, and as one song bled into the next in Dee’s ears, he leaned back and tried to let himself relax, just a little, just enough that maybe he could have an easier time sleeping tonight. After all, his family was here, and they would keep him safe and love him ‘til the end of time. He had been here a year and they hadn’t disappointed him yet.

Virgil gently grabbed Dee’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Dee looked over in confusion. “Just...you know that we’re not gonna leave you for anything, right?” Virgil asked. “The only thing that would make me not be able to talk to you anymore is if one of us died. And that’s not gonna happen for years and years.”

Dee nodded. “I know, Virgil. Thanks,” he signed.

“I love you,” Virgil murmured. “I want to make sure you know that, because I don’t say it often.”

“I know,” Dee signed again. “I love you too.”

After Virgil nodded and Dee started to relax again, he was asleep before they even hit the next red light.

#we'll carry on #sanders sides fanfiction #deceit sanders #remy sanders #emile picani #logan sanders #our creations #danger gays

[avengerofyourheart]

Flour Girl {11} (Bucky x reader AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy).

Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)

Warnings: none! Mild swearing?

Word Count:  3.8k

A/N: Hmmm. What do you think? Can she trust him in her kitchen?? I guess we’ll find out right now!! :D And I won’t apologize for inevitably making hungry OR for my love of The Beatles. That’s just how it is. ;) I love you guys! Hope you enjoy this part! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! <3

<<Part 10   Part 11   Part 12>> 

Flour Girl Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_____________________________________________________

Previously:

“Do you want some help?” 

Choking on your words, you nearly went catatonic at his offer. 

“What?” you finally squeaked out. 

He talked slower with a genuine smile. “I’m offering my help. I mean, I’m a fair baker and at the very least, an extra set of hands. Plus, you get to boss me around for a while. So, what do you say?”

_______________

A bubble of laughter traveled up your throat and then burst past your lips upon hearing the absurdity of his words.

“You can’t be serious,” you giggled, trying to control yourself. It might have been the sleep deprivation and exhaustion but somehow hearing Jimmy offer his help to you was the funniest thing you’d ever heard.

Jimmy, the heir apparent of your competitor. Jimmy, who had been a constant thorn in your side since you met. Jimmy, who claimed you were doomed to fail within the first year. Unbelievable. Clearly, it was all a joke.

“Y/N, I am completely serious,” he said with a furrowed brow. “I have no doubt that you could do it all on your own, but you shouldn’t have to,” Jimmy spoke sternly now.

Swallowing your laughter, you took a deep breath and really looked at the man before you now. There was no hint of joking in his features. He really meant what he said. Jimmy was here late at night, just to…help you?

“Why?” you demanded. “Why would you help me? I thought you were determined to run me out of business, wouldn’t my failure tonight be part of your plan?”

Jimmy shifted on his feet and slipped both hands in his jeans pockets. “No. I never wanted that. Look, I’m sorry about my past behavior, but I’m here now and I’m willing to help if you’ll let me,” he offered sincerely, once again.

“Really? You’re sure you want to spend your night in this mess?” you doubtfully asked while walking back toward the kitchen with Jimmy following in tow.

“I’m sure it’s not that—whoa.” Jimmy began to protest but then stopped short with eyes wide to see the state of your kitchen.

The past few hours had been a flurry of butter and flour and sugar, now with multiple recipes only partially finished. You had tried to maximize your time by using multiple mixers and weighing all the flour for each recipe, but in reality it had just split your attention. Now there was a mess on every surface and you felt like the small kitchen looked like the inside of your scattered brain.

Currently, you had cinnamon roll dough rising, so while you waited, you creamed some butter and sugar for cookies and also had just pulled croissant dough from the fridge to roll out with butter softening on the counter for tart dough. The idea of having a second pair of hands was appealing, but you didn’t like having anyone in your kitchen, much less someone you didn’t trust.

Jimmy surveyed the kitchen for a moment and then took deep breath. “Okay. How can I help? Do you have a spare apron?” he asked you, expectantly.

Eyeing him carefully, you crossed both arms over your chest, most likely getting flour on your shirt. It was futile trying to stay clean at this point.

“You honestly want to help me, Jimmy? Really?” you questioned his motives once again.

Jimmy huffed out a sigh and then leveled you with a steady gaze. “Y/N, yes, I want to help you. I have never been more sure in my life,” he spoke in an overtly confident tone.

Biting your lip, you looked around at your multiple projects and then back at Jimmy. “If you sabotage me in any way or steal my recipes or anything like that, I swear I will—“

“Whoa! I would never—“

He broke off at the look of worry in your eyes, so he tried a different approach. Placing his left hand on your KitchenAid standing mixer on the table, Jimmy then raised his right hand up by his head.

Directly meeting your gaze, he spoke. “I, James Buchanan Barnes, promise to never sabotage anything in regards to your business. I will never steal any recipe, reveal any sort of technique, or any other secrets that are revealed this night. I promise all of the above as a member of the baking community and on my life as a rehabilitating asshole, so help me God,” he finished his oath and then let out a grin.

After that bit of ridiculousness, you had a difficult time holding back a smile of your own. He was officially crazy, but finally you relented. “Okay, fine. There’s an apron hanging behind you.”

Jimmy let out a holler of victory before grabbing the apron and tying it around his waist with that wide grin still on his stupid, handsome face. “Alright, so what can I do, boss?”

You smiled and shook your head at that. “Don’t call me that. Even Wanda rarely does. Um…okay, so that mixer has the butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla mixing for cookies. The dry ingredients are next to it, so if you could add that to the bowl, mix, and then scrape really well with that rubber spatula, I’ll get you the chocolate chunks and pistachios.”

The brunet raised his eyebrows at the mention of those last ingredients, but he said nothing and merely followed your instructions. While he mixed that, you rolled out the croissant dough, folded it in thirds and wrapped it up before putting it back in the fridge. Your cinnamon roll dough was ready then, so you tossed some flour on the table and dumped out your yeasty dough with a cathartic punch to release the air bubbles.

Once Jimmy had the cookie dough ready, you paused a short minute to show him the correct size scoop and how closely you wanted to cookies to be on the pan. Otherwise, he focused on his own task and left you to your work. After spreading the cinnamon mixture and sprinkling the pecans, you began to roll the dough into a spiral as Jimmy watched, seemingly transfixed.

“That looks and smells amazing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“One of my top sellers,” you replied proudly, “and a personal favorite of mine, too.”

“I bet,” he said, practically salivating.

You felt a swell of accomplishment in your chest as you grabbed a serrated knife to cut each roll to size. “So,” you began slowly, making an attempt at conversation. “I kind of figured that Jimmy was short for James, but Buchanan? Are your parents really big fans of the 15th US President?” you teased.

Jimmy let out a burst of laughter. “Something like that. Actually…only my dad calls me Jimmy,” he confessed.

Your brow furrowed, confused. “Clint does, too, I thought…”

“Yeah, I know. My dad set it up so I’d be the one picking up the paperwork and then later delivering to the Nest that first day. It’s been my dad’s nickname for me since I was little so he introduced me to Clint as Jimmy over the phone and I just went along with it. I don’t mind, but I really prefer Bucky,” he finished with a smile.

Pausing in your actions a moment, you took that information in. “Bucky, huh?” Interesting.

“Short for Buchanan…”

“Yeah, I got that,” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “Okay, then. So, tell me, Bucky: do you like the Beatles?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide with alarm alarm, to your surprise. “What? I mean…yeah. I like some of their songs,” he mumbled, looking down at the dough before him.

“Great! Because they’ve kind of become my preferred music when I just need to get in the zone and get things done, you know?” you told him as you selected a particular album on your outdated iPod touch, then connecting it to the nearby speakers.

You had specific, appropriate playlists for the public when the shop was open, but you liked to use Spotify through your iPod when working by yourself. It also helped save your phone’s battery so you didn’t mind using the older device. You needed something to wake you up this late at night and singing along with the Fab Four was just the ticket.  

Pressing a button, the album “1” began to play. It was a compilation of The Beatles’ number one hits, so it contained most of their popular, well-known songs. It didn’t have all your favorites, but quite a few. The album was on shuffle, just to keep you on your toes, so when “Ticket to Ride” began to play, you bobbed your head to the beat. Turning back toward the wooden work table, you started to clean up from cinnamon rolls so you could switch gears and start decorating.

Just as you were pulling out your cakes to decorate, Jim--no, Bucky—announced he was finished with scooping the cookies. Wow. He was fast, which shouldn’t have shocked you. Taking a leap of faith, you handed him the recipe for tart dough and pointed out where he could find the ingredients. With only a question or two, he was on his way and you were able to focus on your cakes.

Not long after, Bucky simply asked what to do with the tart dough, so you pointed out the small tart shell pans and asked him to spray them with pan release and press a certain amount of dough into each one. You liked to bake a dozen or so to have on hand so you could fill them with any type of filling when needed. Returning to your cakes, you had just finished building the 8” chocolate with three layers of cake and fresh raspberry filling in the middle. You spread the freshly-made chocolate buttercream over the top and sides with a spatula and then spun the cake stand swiftly to smooth out the sides with a flat edge.

Lost in your own little world, you began to softly sing along with the current song playing.

“...we can work it out

we can work it out

Life is very short, and there’s no time

For fussing and fighting, my friend

I have always thought that it’s a crime

So I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way…”

Stepping over to the microwave, you slid in a small glass bowl of ganache and hit the button for 30 seconds. You danced in place a little, mostly to stretch your muscles and kill time until the microwave dinged. Pulling out the ganache, you stirred it with your spatula and turned back to the table, feeling eyes on you.

Bucky had apparently seen your little show and shared a smile.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He looked away with a shrug. “Nothing. What’s that you warmed up?”

“Dark chocolate Ganache. They wanted a ‘Death by Chocolate’ vibe, so that’s what they’re gonna get,” you replied while tilting the bowl of liquid-y chocolate over the cake.

Setting the bowl aside, you grabbed your spatula and slowly caused the cake stand to spin while gently pushing the pool of ganache to the edge of the cake, allowing small rivulets to drizzle down the sides of the cake. It was a simple technique, but never failed to impress. You finished the cake with a star-tip border around the bottom and then once the ganache dried, you added the red buttercream roses as well as piping the words “Happy Birthday” on top.

Stepping back to survey your work, you glanced over at Bucky who was openly staring with his mouth gaping slightly.

Giving the cake a slow spin, you asked his opinion. “How does it look?”

“It’s, uh…wow. You made that look so easy. It looks amazing,” he finally replied.

Beaming slightly, you shrugged. “Practice. How are those tart shells looking?”

Bucky glanced down at the dough in his hand. “I’m on the last one. Do you want them baked next?”

“Yes, for 13 minutes,” you instructed. “And then are you up for filling croissants?”

“Always,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

You let out a small chuckle. “Okay. I have some triangles already cut and I’ll show you how to fill them.”

Soon, tart shells were in the oven, Bucky had his instructions with the croissants, both sweet and savory, and you focused on the second cake. This was a 6” with 2 layers of lemon cake with a fresh lemon curd filling and Swiss buttercream rosettes on the outside. As you were placing the second layer of cake on top of the filling, Bucky spoke up.

“So, why the Beatles? Not criticism, just curious,” he quickly added the second part, probably to avoid any wrath from you. He must have picked up on your love for the Boys from Liverpool.

“Um…I grew up listening to them, I guess. My mom liked to play their old vinyl records when I was little, especially in the kitchen while she cooked and baked. I liked to help out, so I have that strong memory attached to their songs. She passed away when I was in high school and it made me sad to hear them for a while, but then I decided to carry on the tradition and play them here. Kind of feels like my mom is still around when I bake,” you finished, not realizing how personal that was to share. Nervously, you glanced his way, but Bucky had a soft, sympathetic expression upon his face, which caught you off guard.

He finally broke the silence. “That’s a good memory to have,” he spoke gently, then offering his condolences. “I’m sorry.”

You just smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

Another quiet moment before Bucky shifted the subject slightly. “This is probably a hard question to answer, but…what’s your favorite Beatles song?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Laughing, you turned toward the music and pressed a button on your iPod. “Actually, it’s not a difficult question, but the answer might not be what you expected…” you trailed off as stringed instruments began to play.

“Ah, look at all the lonely people. Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been,

Lives in a dream, Waits at the window

wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door

Who is it for?

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

All the lonely people, where do they all belong?”

Bucky spoke up during the second verse. “Whoa. Yeah, that’s…not what I was expecting. Most would say ‘Hey, Jude’ or ‘Help!’. That one’s kinda depressing. Can I ask why it’s your favorite?” he asked respectfully.

You giggled lightly. “I know it’s unusual. I love the orchestrations, first of all. The stringed instruments just convey so much emotion on their own, you know? And the lyrics…wow. Yeah, they can seem depressing, but that’s kind of the point. Eleanor Rigby seems to spend her time alone and that comment about ‘wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door’? Definitely strange, but I always imagined it’s like the masks we tend to put up when we step outside the comfort of our home, you know? We all hide parts of ourselves around people,” you kept talking, your eyes trained on the cake in front of you.

One side of the cake was giving you a little trouble with cake visible through the buttercream, to your annoyance. Bucky was silent, so you just scooped more buttercream on your spatula and continued on.

“As for Father Mackenzie, he was there the whole time, probably even in the same church. Two lonely people who could have connected and felt a little less lonely. Where do they come from? Where do they belong? How do you cure loneliness? By connecting with others. They were like ships passing in the night, neither reaching out when they could have. Eleanor didn’t have any family, hence the phrase ‘buried along with her name, nobody came’. Only Father Mackenzie was at her funeral and by then it was too late,” you said with a sad shake of your head. “I don’t know. It’s a somber song, but it helps remind me to reach out to others and make those connections. Is that weird?” you asked, finally looking up.

Bucky was staring again with a smile, his hand paused on a croissant mid-roll. He blinked, realizing you had asked a question. “Um…yeah, I guess it’s a little weird, but it also makes sense. I can honestly say I’ve never put that much thought into a song, but…I like it. Human connection, yeah,” he answered, almost in awe. Or possibly in a daze from your long-winded explanation.

“Anyway,” you shook off that heavy subject, “do you have a favorite Beatles song?”

He looked off into the distance for a moment and then seemed to come up with an answer. Brushing his hands on his apron, he walked over to where your iPod was. “May I?”

“Sure.”

Putting his back to you, Bucky spent a few seconds scrolling on the iPod before stepping away. “Might not be what you’d expect either…” Bucky teased as he washed his hands.

A few notes played before a voice began to sing, but to your surprise it was female. Looking his way in confusion, you listened on a moment before you recognized the song and also where it came from.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you something

I think you’ll understand.

When I say that something

I wanna hold your hand…”

“This is from the movie ‘Across the Universe’, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. I like the original, but this cover always hit me harder. I like that it’s slower, like a ballad, and the emotion the actress puts into every word…I don’t know. I like it,” he offered with a shrug.

“Me, too,” you replied with a similar smile. “It’s great movie. I think the actors sang live, which is pretty cool.”

“They did, yeah,” Bucky echoed before you both fell into a comfortable silence as the song played on.

As the song ended, you waited to see what would pop up next as you put the finishing touches on your lemon cake. A male voice began to sing quietly, a cappella at first.

“Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don’t wanna leave her now, You know I believe and how

You’re asking me, will my love grow?

I don’t know, I don’t know…”

“I like this one, too,” Bucky softly interrupted.

You smiled. “Same here.”

The rest of the movie’s soundtrack played on with occasional comments from both of you. Remarks about how the Beatles must have been on drugs while writing at least a few of the songs. “I Am the Walrus”, for sure. “Across the Universe” was a good contender, but you both enjoyed it anyway. “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” was definitely an acid trip. There were so many good, solid songs, though and your mind reflected on those scenes from the movie with fondness as they played.  

Time passed by swiftly without you realizing, but finally, you were finishing an order of cupcakes while Bucky filled the last few croissants and you were done. Or as prepared as you felt you could be for the next day. After putting everything away, you took a deep breath and felt more on top of your to-do list, partly in thanks to the man who unexpectedly came to your aid. You both shared in the cleaning and Bucky even helped with the mound of dirty dishes, leaving them out to air dry.

All in all, the night turned out to be not so bad. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you might have even enjoyed your time with Bucky. Quickly, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. It was a little after 1am as you stepped out into the late night air with Bucky beside you. The rain had stopped by then, leaving behind that fresh, earthy scent you loved. Locking the door, you turned slowly toward Bucky, feeling a hint of awkwardness.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you finally met his eye, “for your help. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, glancing down at the rain-soaked pavement. “It was actually kinda fun. Thanks for letting me help out. I know you prefer to do it all on your own, but it never hurts to ‘get by with a little help from [your] friends’,” he said with a wink, quoting the Beatles.

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped you and he joined in.

Bucky spoke as the laughter subsided. “So…can I walk you home? Or the subway? Not the worst neighborhood, but still…”

Chuckling under your breath at that offer, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Sure. Follow me,” you answered, walking the ten feet to the bottom of the stairs and then climbing to the top. Reaching the door and standing on the highest step, you turned around to see a bewildered Bucky. “This is me. Right there,” you pointed to the window your apartment that was directly above the bakery.

Bucky laughed. “Well, that’s convenient. Um…okay. Have a good night, Y/N,” he said in parting before descending a few steps.

“Bucky?” you called out and he stopped to turn your way. “Why did you help me tonight? Be honest with me.”

Placing one hand on the stone railing, Bucky seemed to take a moment to consider his answer. “Because…I heard you the other day. You’re right, I had no idea what your life is like and I probably still don’t, but after tonight I feel like I have the smallest of ideas and...you’re like a superhero. Owning your successful business with only one employee and all of your pastries are amazing, plus those cakes are a work of art. You seriously do it all, mostly on your own and I admire that,” he replied earnestly, then asking a surprising question. “Do you really unclog toilets?”

Feeling embarrassment creep into your face from the question as well as the unexpected praise, you nodded. “Yup. I’m the superintendent of the building. The landlord gives me a discount on rent for the bakery in exchange for dealing with clogged toilets, among other things,” you shrugged, playing with the keys in your hand.

“Wow. Like I said...superhero. Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for being such an ass. I hope you can get at least get a few hours of sleep now,” Bucky said as he climbed down the last few steps. “See you around, Y/N.”

Bucky offered a wave and you watched him walk down the street for a moment, trying to reconcile the actions of this man who helped you for hours without asking for anything with the cocky jerk you met only a few weeks ago. Unlocking the door, you let yourself into your apartment and shut it behind you, heading immediately for the bedroom in an exhausted, confused haze.  

________________

Part 12>>  

_________________________________________________

Hooooooooly crap, you guys!!! I’ve had this whole chapter in my head for MONTHS and now I get to share it, finally!!! What did you think?? Maybe Bucky at least got his foot in the door with winning her over? Hmm. Would you forgive him seeing such a huge shift in his behavior? I’d love to know what you think of this part and what might happen next! ;) I adore you all and appreciate all of your comments and feedback. More coming Thursday! Also I finally posted a video recipe about making Filled Croissants! I’d love if you’d check it out. I have another already filmed and will be posted soon. ;) Love you guys! <3

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bakery au #bucky au #reader x bucky #reader x bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #baking #baking fic #reader x james buchanan barnes #bakery #you've got mail #movie au #avengers fan fic #marvel fan fic

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Step on It

Whoops! I didn’t at all mean to start this, but then I saw a post by @mendeshoney tossing around the idea of a Shawn Mendes Baby Driver AU, and absolutely fell in love with it. It’s probably going to have three or four more parts, and hopefully the next will be up in a few days! It’s genuinely one of my favorite movies and favorite things I’ve ever written, so please feel free to tell me what you think! 

Word Count: 3.1k+

Baby was a good kid. He always tried to do the right thing, looked after his foster dad like he was his own flesh and blood, and never hurt anyone unless he absolutely, genuinely had to. Baby was a good kid, but sometimes he got mixed up with the wrong people. After his parents died, and before moved in with James— back when he was still bouncing around group homes— he made some bad moves, ending up with the sort of crowd he swore he’d never get involved with. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t mean anything bad by lifting the Audi at the corner of Queen and Boulton. All he was ever going to do was take it out for an hour or so, drive around, and return it, no harm done. Nobody was ever supposed to find out. What Baby didn’t count on was that somebody had been watching him.

His heart leapt up to his mouth as soon as he saw the man at the corner, clad in a grey suit, arms crossed and a wry smile on his face. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. He was tripping over his words as he got out of the car, a combination of apologies and excuses and pleas for forgiveness falling out of his mouth before the man held up a hand and Baby’s words trailed off.

“I saw you driving,” the man said. “Call me Flint.”

Baby briefly wondered if that was his real name. “I’m so sorry about the car, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“How old are you, kid?”

“Fourteen,” Baby swallowed.

“Fourteen, Jesus. Where’d you learn to drive like that?”

He shrugged. “Don’t really know. Just around?”

Flint looked at him for a moment, weighing his options. “I’ve got an idea. You ever want to make some extra money, Baby?”

He nodded. “Sure, but my name’s—”

Flint cut him off. “Save it. Where we’re going kid, you won’t be needing it. Anyone asks, your name’s Baby. You hear me?”

Forcing down a nervous swallow, Baby followed Flint. What was he getting himself into?

Baby had always learned that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. Flint’s deal was no exception. While he was undoubtedly dazzled by Baby’s skills behind the wheel, he was more interested in using them for his own, less-than-legal purposes. All to pay off the debt Baby owed him for stealing his car, he had said. Which is how Baby found himself sitting in the driver’s seat of a nondescript red sedan six years later, glancing over his sunglasses to see if the job was done. By job he meant bank robbery, naturally. It wasn’t like Baby felt good about what he was doing; he didn’t. He was doing it because he had to. He had no other choice. So he tried his best to push away his conscience, ignore the ringing in his ears, and skip songs on one of his many iPods until he found something suitable. Fast-paced, driving sound, with the right tempo and rhythm to keep him from thinking too much about the fact that he was definitely about to commit a felony. Bellbottoms- Jon Spencer Blues Explosion. Keeping one eye on the bank door, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, singing along under his breath. Baby liked to drive, but music is what gave him life, what kept him going week after week when the guilt of what he did threatened to eat away at his soul. Lost in thought for a moment, he nearly missed the blaring sound of the bank’s panic alarm, the small crew sprinting out the side door and across the street to his car. They piled in, Baby turned the key in the ignition, and he floored it. Down side streets, between cars, and under overpasses, until they arrived at the switch point, trading in the red sedan for a demure-looking silver hatchback. Baby vaguely wondered if Flint was channelling his inner suburban soccer mom, before sliding into the front and retrieving the keys from the center console.

The ride back to the headquarters— “the office,” as Flint liked to call it— was much less eventful, and ten minutes later the group of five was walking back into a seemingly-abandoned warehouse.The same strange smile on Flint’s face, the one Baby had learned was his sign of restrained satisfaction, he spoke. “So, how’d it go?”

Working for Flint, Baby had become an expert in waiting around and biding his time. There was never a consistent schedule for his jobs; he could go two days or two months between. When Flint called, he went. He’d take his stack of bills home, tuck them underneath a loose floorboard in the living room, and try hopelessly to reassure James that he wasn’t up to anything illegal, that he wasn’t in danger. He hated lying, but knew that it would be putting them both in way more danger if he knew the truth.

That’s how he ended up in the tiny kitchen in the apartment he shared with James, two pieces of bread on the counter, a jar of peanut butter off to the side.

Banana? He signed to James.

Obviously, he said, eyes rolling.

A corner of Baby’s mouth twitched. Grabbing a banana from the counter, he put the peanut butter back in the cupboard, placing the plate in front of him.

Thank you, James said.

No problem, I’ll be in my room if you need anything.

James nodded, and Baby walked the short distance from the living room to his bedroom, closing the door most of the way but not shutting it. James’ arthritis had been acting up lately, and he didn’t want him to have to open the door if he needed help.

Sitting down on his slightly beat-up but well-loved office chair, Baby pulled out a fresh case of blank cassette tapes that he had bought from the music store earlier in the day. It was the one thing that seemed to be able to get him out of his head, that gave him some semblance of peace and security in the midst of everything he did as part of his day job. Opening up his Mac and powering on his old cassette recorder, he plugged in his earphones. He liked to record bits of conversations he overheard, or lines of a song, or even the ambient noise that made Toronto sound like home. Car horns, trains, birds chirping, the splashing on Lake Ontario, they all made him feel safe. Made him feel at home. The top shelf of his closet was mostly filled with shoeboxes filled to the brim with these tapes, another off to the side having a dozen or so iPods and MP3 players he had loaded with his favorite music. Each one had its own theme. Most people had all of their albums on just one or two, but Baby liked the structure of his system. He was able to have control over that, even if in every other respect his life seemed out of his hands.

Someday, Baby thought he might like to try writing his own music. There would be something powerful about feeling like a piece of music was really his own, not like he was merely toying around with someone else’s words, someone else’s melody. He even had a guitar in the corner of the room, a nice one, that he’d pull out on occasion, an old journal filled with half-written songs lying on top of it. The guitar was the only thing Baby had ever spent a lot of money on, and the very pretty girl at the music store downtown promised him it was worth every penny of the $800 he had spent. He wasn’t much of a spender aside from that, nearly all of the rest of the money went towards savings. Saving for what, Baby didn’t know. He thought he might like to go to college one day, but that obviously wasn’t going to work in his current situation. Travelling was out too. So it was left accumulating under the floorboard, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

As Baby popped the cassette out of the recorder and scrawling a title over the front, a glint of metal caught the corner of his eye. His mom’s iPod. He always found it something of a miracle that it hadn’t been irreparably damaged in the car crash that had killed both her and his father, but he always ended up figuring that she was watching over him now, that she knew he couldn’t survive, wouldn’t want to survive, in a world without music. Baby could care less about his father— he had never really been there for him, never played catch or taught him how to ride a bike ro read goodnight stories, all the things a dad was supposed to do— but his mother, he missed her every day, the pain her death caused left a hole in his heart that had never been repaired. Some days were easier than others, but no days were easy. His mom, Julia, was the one who showed him love and taught him that he was valued and wanted and important, especially when he didn’t feel so himself.

He was ten when his parents died, which unfortunately for him, is right about when you really start remembering stuff, and selective memory doesn’t work as well as it used to. Which meant that he remembered every excruciating detail about the car accident that had left him an orphan. His parents fighting, his dad’s eyed not being on the road, the truck drifting into their lane, the crunch of the metal, being pulled out of the car by some good Samaritan and carted off to the hospital. Some kind-faces, spectacled doctor trying to explain to him how they tried everything they could, but his parents hadn’t made it. His aunt buying him his first suit to wear to the funeral. Thc closed caskets.

His Aunt Lydia had taken him in for a few months, trying her best, but then her husband got transferred to a job in California and he wasn’t able to go with him. She still tried to keep up with letters though, her annual birthday cards sometimes the only thing that reminded him there was a world outside of the city limits. After that, he was put into foster care, bounced around from home to home, never staying more than a few months. Some of them were genuinely terrible places, but more often than not it was Baby who would run away, taking his backpack, iPod, and a change of clothes before his social worker tracked him down and had him sent to another house. James was different. There was something about him that made Baby want to try harder, want to be a better person, want to change. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t pity him. James had lost people too. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t come from much either, but still managed to live a life of joy and gratefulness every day. Maybe it was just the fact that he was a single Deaf man, so unlike any of the other families that he had been with, that all he actually needed was a change of pace. And six months later, he met Flint. Whatever the case was, Baby was grateful. He didn’t know where he’d be without James. So he wasn’t proud of what he did for Flint. Not by a long shot. But he had no choice, not if he wanted to keep himself and the one other person he was certain he cared about safe.

He owed Flint a debt, and it wasn’t like he could ignore his calls even if he wanted to. And by God, did Baby want to. Every time he picked up his phone for another one of Flint’s ‘jobs,’ it chipped away at him. The best he could do, Baby mused, was simply try to ignore the guilt until they were square, until he was all paid up, until he could finally by a car of his own and go driving down the highway and never stop.

Baby stripped off his shirt, unbuttoned his pants, threw the covers over himself, and wanted for sleep to come.

Baby woke the next morning to the blaring of his phone alarm, the speakers playing Mr. Blue Sky until he reached over, absentmindedly thumbing the screen until the music stopped. Opening up his closet, he dressed himself before walking out to the kitchen, where James was already sat in his wheelchair by the living room couch, reading the previous day’s newspaper.

Eggs and toast okay? Baby asked.

James nodded. Bacon? He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Baby shook his head. All out, used the last yesterday. I’ll get more when I’m out today.

Will you have another job today? Baby had never really told James about what he did for Flint, figuring the more ignorance on his part the better, but he was more perceptive than most, and had found out that at the least, whatever Baby was going to be given stacks of hundreds couldn’t be legal.

I don’t know, he said, shrugging. They call, I go. That had long been his motto.

Baby didn’t usually have much to do so long as he kept his phone on him, so he walked until his feet ended up taking him to Grange Park, to the same bench his mom used to sit on while he played on the same playground he looked at now. School was still in session so there weren’t too many people around, the majority being toddler age or younger. He sat for a few minutes, trying his best to disallow any memories from the crash to taint his daydreams, eventually plugging his headphones in, scrolling to his favorite 80s playlist, and walking the twenty minutes to the diner.

His mom had worked at Fran’s since long before he was born, and Baby had spent countless hours staying out of the way in a corner booth, entertaining himself with coloring books and comic strips until his mom finished her shift. Everyone that worked there had always been good to him, Julia’s frequent shift partner Monica even checking in on him a few times after her death, bringing casseroles and condolences that meant well, but didn’t end up doing much more than reminding him that her kids still had a mom while he didn’t. He visited often enough that the manager waved at him as he walked through the door, telling him his usual booth was open and he was welcome to take it. He slid in, and not a moment later the door opened again, and in walked a woman who was inarguably the most beautiful person Baby had ever seen in his life.

He barely had time to register that she was singing, so he pulled out the little, pocket-sized cassette recorder he kept in his jacket, managing to catch the last ten seconds or so. He wasn’t even able to slip it back in and she had returned, her long brown hair now pulled up in a bun and the denim jacket cast away in some cramped employee locker.

“What can I get you this morning?” She asked, with the same kind of planned cheerfulness Baby was used to from any of the servers. He hadn’t recognized her, though. He would have remembered.

Baby swallowed. “Uh, not sure?”

She waved him off, leaning her head towards the near-empty diner. It was a bit of an odd hour for lunch. “Don’t worry about it. Not like I’ve got many other customers to entertain, you see?”

His jaw fell slack, and she cocked an eyebrow quizcally at the cassette. “Am I being recorded or something? For...quality assurance?” She added playfully. “What can I get you this morning, sir?” She added with emphasis.

Rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, he shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that.” Continually flustered, he stared at the kid’s menu when she asked about his order again.

“You know that’s the kid’s menu, right?”

He grabbed the other sheet and placed it in front of himself, perhaps with a little more force than was necessary. “Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

“So did your day just end or is it starting?”

Baby shrugged a shoulder. “Can’t really say either way. They call, I go.” As if by some cruel twist of fate, his phone chose that moment to ring. Any other person would let it go— they were eating, they were busy, and they were with a very pretty girl. But there was only one number who ever called that phone. Flint. And while he may have had something of a soft spot for Baby, he’d be damn near on thin ice for letting it ring.

“So what do you do, then? Some kind of a driver, a chauffeur?” Her name tag said Joshua, and while Baby certainly wasn’t one to criticize someone for having a strange name, something told me it was likely the fault of some poorly-organized backroom shelves and not the girl’s parents.

“Yeah, I drive people.” Vagueness always seemed to be the best response whenever anyone asked him what he did. Too little detail and his story wouldn’t be believable, but too much and they’d get suspicious. He had learned long ago to tread the sweet middle ground.

“Anyone I’d know?”

He shook his head. “I hope not.”

She already found him interesting, but now he was flat-out mysterious. “You’re a little different, aren’t you?” She murmured.

“Maybe.” Baby didn’t want to leave. God, he didn’t want to leave. He had to, but there was one more question he needed to ask. “What was that song you were singing?”

The second he got out of the meeting with Flint, Baby headed straight to the nearest record store. He made a beeline for cassettes, praying it would be tucked away behind some long-forgotten stack of Elton John’s greatest hits or the Lion King soundtrack. After a few minutes of flipping, he finally found what he had been looking for. Tucked between Prince and Fleetwood Mac— he recalled with a grimace that this particular store didn’t always do a bang-up job at alphabetizing— Carla Thomas, B-A-B-Y. He had never listen to much music from the 50s or 60s aside from classic rock; jazz and folk never really struck him as ‘his kind’ of music, but he swore he’d never loved a song more than when he heard her singing it. Turning over the case in his hand, he remembered something that threatened to throw a wrench in his well thought-out plan. He didn’t know her name.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic

[foreverandalwayscrysis]

The 100 Ask Game

I was tagged by @talistheintrovert and @prophecy-gurl, the loves of my life <3

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from? Mmm, probably Go-Sci or Alpha, since my dad was a geneticist - maybe they’d put me in Medical or something lmao.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark? Standing up for injustices/trying to help people who were being treated unfairly.

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground? Yeah, I’d give it Monty.

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..) Maybe a dolphin/whale or a turtle.

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be? WELLS!!!!

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they? Bellamy, Clarke, Monty, Harper, and Murphy.

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to? Either Floukru or Trishanakru.

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? I think they’d just change the “sha” part to a “sah” or more of a hissing “ss” sound, so it’d be Ay-sah, instead of what it is currently, Eisha (pronounced e-sha).

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious. He was a good character to have on the show and I think they wrote him well, but I definitely never loved him.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does? I wouldn’t have been that willing.

11. What character do you relate to most? my homegirl Clarke - we even have the dead dad category checked off!

12. What character do you like the least? Echo kom get lost. She was a grounder in a cage, and she should’ve stayed a grounder in a cage.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical) Mmm, jeans, combat boots, a full-sleeved t-shirt with either a cardigan with pockets or a jacket

14. Favorite type of mutant animal? Oooh, I LOVED the two-headed deer we saw in season 1. I wouldn’t mind more crazy forest animals.

15. What would your job be on the Ark? Medical assistant/scribe, something along those lines.

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked? Yeah, I don’t get squeamish easily (I’ve watched surgeries on YouTube aksdjlk), and if I can help Clarke in any way, I’m doing it.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive, then who would have made the best commander? Indra by far.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty? Honestly, I’d get super emotional.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach? The Blake approach.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone? Ideally, no one - every station/govt gets equal representation and people listen to actual problems.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis? Kane’s side - and maybe I’d go to look for Clarke but I’d die within a day, so.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s iPod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there? A tablet/phone, anything to read from or play music on tbh.

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint? No tattoos, possibly dark war paint on my face or arms, and a short-to-medium hairstyle, either a variety of braids or pinned back.

24. Favorite quote? “Your life can be more than just impossible decisions and a tragic end. You can choose to live.” - Wells Jaha

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning? Lincoln, Luna, Anya, Indra, Bellamy, Clarke, I can’t pick.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non-canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE 

Favorite canon ship: Marper

Favorite non-canon: Wellven, Ice Mechanic.

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo? I am so behind on all music lately, it’s sad. I’d love to hear some Florence or Hozier but I really want Shawn back - he can’t just disappear!

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time? Oh gosh, um - well at least we wouldn’t go crazy from isolation alone. I’d read, sing, maybe dance around/stretch to keep from atrophying, rearrange stuff and then rearrange it again, complain about Blarke being oblivious idiots in love.

29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die? Spear! Or poisonous berries. Maybe multiple arrows.

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of? MY TRUE QUEEN DIYOZA

31. A character you’d bang? Besides Bellamy? Wells.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden? Yeah, I’m gonna stay in Eden.

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground? Unless I wanna get killed, yeah. Do the minimum to stay out of sight and her warpath. I could see myself writing diary entries I guess.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits? Oooh - them finding my diary entries and seeing how negatively I feel towards Blodreina.

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with? Either Monty or Harper. Echo and I will not be friends.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself? I honestly don’t know. I’d like to think I’d make it a year.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do? Ahaha, run and hide, possibly misguide them if I can do it safely.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite? Favorite: DIYOZAAA. Least and worst: McCreary.

39. Would you Spacewalk? Maaaybe? I have a fear of heights and assuming it’s lessened and/or gone by the time I’ve gotten used to space, I’d be open to the idea.

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat? Windshield Bugs, baby.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it? No, the war wouldn’t solve anything. It’s all about compromise - everyone wants to live, and people like to stay in their communities, so we’d need to figure out a way to build cities/towns that help all different kinds of people. 

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes? Dig out flesh-eating worms, no doubt.

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia? If my sister became Octavia-levels of crazy, yeah, but I’m not a shoot-first kinda gal so I’d try to reason and logic my way into dismantling everything.

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper? I would sleep, but it can depend on who else wants to stay awake.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet? My faves, Bellamy & Clarke, followed by Miller, Murphy, Raven (staying on the ship), Diyoza, Shaw, and Emori. And if someone needs to be the scapegoat, Echo.

This was super long but I had fun answering these questions!! Tagging a few people below: @lameblake @chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky @captaindaddykru @nvermindiseeyou @clarkgriffon @anne-shirley-blythe @hopewolves @chants-de-lune @goddess-clarke @aainiouu @loveisalwayswise @harpermacintyre @hermionegranger @fen-ha-fuck-you @frecklessbellamy

#anyone feel free to ignore me or do this #these were fun questions #ask games #random #mine #eisha rants

[pixiealtaira]

Into The Woods

Here it is... day 15 of Kurtoberfest...2016

It is not Blaine friendly, it is a break-up fic.  It features the Warblers and Elliot.

Rated M...but probably doesn’t need that high a rating.

Kurt centric

Summary: Kurt is Lost In The Woods.

 In to The Woods (not posted)

Kurt Hummel was lost in the woods.  At least that is what his Facebook page was shouting. He’d already called his dad and informed him he wasn’t ‘lost’ lost in the woods, but he was…in a manner of speaking…lost in the woods.

Kurt Hummel was lost in the woods with a tent and air mattress, three sleeping bags, several blankets and two pillows, plenty of clothing, a cook stove so he didn’t have to build a fire, a cooler full of food, a cooler which was filled with bottled water, a generator that he peddled on which he could make enough power with to charge his laptop, cell phone and the lantern he used as his main light source at night.  He had a very comfy camp chair and a portable table.  He had his digital camera and several novels he’d been waiting to read until he’d had enough of a school break to do so.  He had notebooks and pencils and even a sketchpad and watercolors, watercolor paper, tape and a great selection of paintbrushes. He had his laptop and several days’ worth of downloaded movies, his old IPod classic which held music and only music and enough music to listen to all week almost without repeating a single song.

He had a working cellphone, cell phone service and he even had internet since he’d set his phone up as a Wi-Fi hotspot.

He was perfectly content to remain lost in the woods for the rest of the godawful ‘camping’ vacation…which was three more days.

It started with a magazine article and a desire to try to ‘fix’ his relationship with Blaine.

He and Blaine could not live together. It seriously was as simple as that.  The evening Blaine had moved back in, within hours of sending Rachel off, Blaine started fussing about the loft. He wanted to redo the book shelves, he wanted the bathroom reorganized. Heck, in the bathroom he wanted to come up with the money needed to have the bathroom renovated so the toilet and sink were in ‘better’ spots for Blaine’s use, regardless of Kurt’s insistence he would have to ask the landlord about that in the first place and they were never going to come up with the money considering a certain someone had no steady job.  Blaine needed things done his way in the kitchen, even though he used it less than Kurt. It only got worse when Kurt spoke about school.  Kurt understood that’s June’s showcase took a lot of time and that just because it happened didn’t mean it was completely over and Blaine could just start ignoring her.  Kurt pointed out that Blaine still had classes to attend and that he hadn’t thought Blaine skipping them when preparing for the showcase was a good idea to start off with and Blaine certainly should not keep skipping them when he wasn’t working towards an actual event.

Kurt was reminded that he wasn’t the boss of Blaine and that Blaine could do what he wanted.  Fine and dandy, however, the tantrum tossed when Kurt refused to skip class and meet up for an afternoon of gaming with Sam while Sam was in town finishing up paperwork at the model agency was uncalled for and ridiculous.  The semi silent treatment…Blaine refused to speak to Kurt when Kurt spoke but Blaine was happy to tell Kurt about how mean Kurt was acting and how much he had hurt Sam’s feelings (Kurt hadn’t, he’d texted an apology to Sam with the explanation that Kurt could not miss his dance class and that he’d buy Sam dinner when he was in Lima next and Sam said he was fine with it) so long as Kurt just sat and took it and didn’t dare speak back…was annoying and irritating.

Then there was the wedding crap.  Kurt told Blaine the hour after they got engaged that he was NOT getting married until he had finished university...and maybe even landed a full time serious job in his fields of choice.  It was NOT happening.  Kurt heard nothing different from Blaine about it either.  Until it passed a year of being engaged and all of a sudden Blaine kept coming and telling him about potential sites and potential caters and asking for him to make a firm decision on colors and a guest list.  Kurt had never even mentioned colors or a guest list, ever…not to even make a non-firm comment. Kurt’s reminder that he still had two more years at least and maybe more before even THINKING about a wedding seemed to not be heard…at all…not any of the 500 or more times he said it. (Neither did Kurt’s reminder that KURT had his wedding planned down to the number of filler flowers in the table displays, thank you very much…so Blaine needed to back off and chill out because so far nothing Blaine had brought forward would ever work even in whatever dream reality Blaine was working under. When Kurt decided that it was time for a wedding, Kurt would then present his fiancé with five choices and after that make five calls and they would be ready to go.  That had been yelled the fourteenth time Blaine asked Kurt if he thought Forest Green and Peach would be good for wedding colors. )

All that added with the fights about shoes and clothing and picking up after one’s self and TV choices and movies and gaming and food choices and washing dishes and chores and jobs and rugs and towels and bathroom timing and personal hygiene and good lord everything…Kurt and Blaine were not at a good spot coming up towards the end of the semester.

NYADA’s last day for underclassman was the 16th of May.  NYADA’s seniors walked the 10th, with all that week before dedicated to the seniors presenting their final projects and stuff and the seniors taking all their finals for non-presentation classes.  It was a dead week for the rest of the campus…it was supposed to be used to study for finals and any presentations they might have during their finals week…unless you were involved in a seniors project.  Kurt was not during the end of his second year…or rather his job had already been done and he wasn’t needed on campus. Furthermore, he had already presented for three classes, finished and turned in his huge paper for one class, was complete and ready to present in two classes and didn’t need much more studying for his finals in the rest. To top it all off, he’d taken off the whole of dead week from all jobs, because the year before during dead week Kurt had been buried under so much work it had not been funny. He had just neglected (or blocked) to remember why he’d been so far behind and working so hard to catch up.

When Kurt came home on the last day of April, Blaine was already home.  He was sprawled out on the couch and had his face buried in some sort of magazine.  Kurt hung up his bag and coat, pulled off his boots, and went to sit by him and turn on some TV until he had to move again…or make dinner, even though it was Blaine’s night to feed them.

“Hey Kurt,” Blaine said as he noticed the TV go on. “You should read this article.  I bet we could get some ideas on how you could fix our relationship.”

“We could certainly use some help, but I’m sure a therapist would be a better option than a magazine article.”  Kurt replied.

“I told you, I’m not going to therapy.  It is a waste of time. My mother says it has not helped one single bit for either her or my dad, so I doubt it would help us.”

“Well, you do have to sort of show up for it to help…” Kurt said under his breath. Louder Kurt said, “So what does the article say?”

“It talks about activities couples can do together to reconnect and get back into tune with each other.  We should go camping!  It says camping allows couples to rely on each other and talk to each other without distractions.  We could go before finals.  We should totally do the full week!”

“Don’t you need to study and finish up projects?”  Kurt asked.

“Ok…we’ll come home late Friday.  I’ll have the whole weekend.  We can leave this Friday, right after your morning class.”

“I have a presentation to give at my 1pm class.”

“Ok…right after that.” Blaine said bouncing on the couch.

“Is it even all the way thawed out anywhere?”  Kurt asked.

“Thawed? I guess.  It’ll be great!  I know the perfect place to head off to! You get everything together and I’ll get the place set up.  Oh…we’ll need to rent a car.”

Blaine’s confusion at the word thawed should have been the first clue that he and Kurt didn’t have the same idea of camping.  That and the word car.

“Leave that to me as well, Dad gave me the number to some of his friends.” Kurt said.

Had Kurt thought about things for much longer, instead of simply going into planning mode, he probably should have figured out that Blaine’s idea of camping and Kurt’s idea of camping were very much two different things. Except, Kurt rather liked the idea of camping, of peace and nature and relaxing, so he didn’t think about it long and just jumped into planning mode.

Kurt called one of his dad’s friends the next day, who rented him a SUV since he wasn’t sure where they were going camping and he might need a 4wheel drive. Kurt also called NYADA’s student recreation center and found out that they did rent out tents and camping gear, also if he chose to buy they gave him the name of three sporting goods shops who gave tremendous students discounts.  Kurt rented the tent and camp stove with a full propane tank, but when they showed him the pedal powered generator and external batteries to be charged and used with laptops and other larger items, Kurt went to the sporting goods shop and bought that (he’d already bought sleeping bags after their snowed in day). He bought the type of camp food that was like military MREs, but which he hoped tasted a bit better…although some of the MREs his dad forced down him when he was younger weren’t too bad. He bought other food too…hot dogs(which were only edible outside cooked over an open fire) and potatoes for a fry-up, marshmallows and eggs, some good fish that was frozen, onions and peppers and other things to make tinfoil dinners. He even gave into nostalgia and bought spaghetti circles and meatballs and canned raviolis and hot chocolate packets and instant oatmeal. He broke down and bought sodas, not just his Diet Coke, but fun root beers and other fruity sodas in bottles and regular cans of Cokes and Pepsis and Sprites. He found a good deep pot for Dutch-oven cooking and bought the makings for peach cobbler and a good outdoor fry pan that could sit over open flames or on a camp stove, he added a smaller pot and camping utensils and camping dishes for himself and Blaine that he could wash but he wouldn’t have to risk his matching place settings at home. He bought two coolers and four of the reusable ice packs to keep frozen food frozen for a decent amount of time. He bought enough bottled water to cook with and drink and even wash their hands and face with for a whole week. And, since Kurt did not trust the weather, he also bought long-johns, silk and thermal and two pairs of fleece lined jeans.  He bought two cable knit sweaters...one wool and one cotton, two fleece pull overs, a good multi-layer hooded waterproof coat which wasn’t too bulky to be comfortable, good gloves which included fingertips with which he could use his phone, nice lined boots and lots of good thick socks…oh, and a few hats.  He bought a hiking pack which he could put all his clothing and some food in, a compass and a good fire starting kit, a first aid kit that was geared towards outdoor recreation use but would be wonderful to add to the loft, and a wonderful water bottle/canteen which he couldn’t wait to take jogging with him when the whole camping thing was done.  He had never been so glad a store stayed open till 9pm in all his life.   When he got back to the loft, Blaine wasn’t there…he’d left a note saying he was out with some friends and that he’d be ready for Kurt to pick him up at three and could Kurt have the car gassed up and ready to go at the time as well.

Kurt spent the night washing clothes and getting everything ready for the next day. He charged all his devices; he loaded movies and games on the laptop.  He pulled out board games and card games and books to read. He pulled out his travel art box, and filled it with pencils, watercolor paints, brushes, and his watercolor paper pad and his sketch pad.  He found the extra SD cards for his camera and the extra battery pack and made sure it was charged.  He packed extra notebooks.  He packed a ‘goody bag’, just in case Blaine’s bonding activity ideas were more on the physical side.  He pulled out the three sleeping bags he’d bought after they were snowed in, the extra blankets and the pillows that could travel and their air mattress (bought when Sam was living there at the loft).  He packed everything into the SUV except the stuff he wanted to move to the SUV last minute.  

He finished packing as soon as he got done with his dance class, where everyone presented their pieces so that Miss July could go somewhere right after she sat through graduation. Kurt was exhausted but he thought he nailed it, which was good.  Blaine wasn’t home yet and so Kurt finished packing and had everything in the car ready. Blaine was dropped off by someone at 2:45 and ran up to the loft just in time to meet Kurt who was bringing down his art box and the last sack of groceries (seasonings and stuff from their own kitchen).

“Kurt as soon as you put that in come help me bring my stuff down and then we can be off!” Blaine yelled.

When Kurt got back up to the loft, Blaine handed Kurt a large duffel bag. Kurt locked up as Blaine carried down a large paper sack full of some sort of bottles and his travel cosmetics case. Blaine took those two items with him into the front of the SUV and Kurt packed his bag into the back.

“God, this car is huge! I don’t see why you thought we needed something so big.” Blaine complained as Kurt got into the driver’s seat. Once again, Kurt should have considered that Blaine’s surprise should have been a clue to his idea of camping.

“I didn’t know where we were going so Dad’s friend thought we might need 4wheel drive.” Kurt said.

Blaine nodded. “We might, I didn’t ask.  It’ll take about five hours to get there once we get out of the city, so we’d better head now.  Take I-80 until you get to almost Watkin’s Glen.  There might be tolls. Wake me at Binghamton if I’m not awake by then…or if you stop for food.”

Then Blaine popped his head phones in and leaned his head against the window.  He was snoring before they were even out of the neighborhood. Kurt popped his music in and settled in for the drive, singing along as he drove north.  Kurt stopped for food without waking Blaine.

He woke Blaine up when he was supposed to, and they stopped for dinner at a fast food drive-thru.  Blaine then spent the next half hour chattering about presentations and how annoying it was they were all needing to be done the week of finals.

“Why didn’t you take the option of presenting early?” Kurt asked.

“Why would I do that?” Blaine asked back.

“Because it allows you to space yourself better?”

“But it makes it so you don’t get as much time as everyone else to complete stuff.” Blaine said.

“Well, you do…I mean I know in three of those six classes you share with me the paper or presentation project is in the syllabus and so you’ve had since the start of the semester to work on it if you wanted to.  If I chose to work on it early and have it down and ready to present early I don’t see how I’ve lost time.  I just used it to my advantage.”

“But you could have done more or added more or changed things over the next week or so!” Blaine exclaimed.

“Why would I need to if I already have it done?” Kurt asked back.

Blaine just grumbled and glared at him.

“When you get to the turn off to go to the state park, take it and drive along the road you’d take to get to the back way into the camp grounds.”

“I’ve never been up here Blaine, I don’t understand where you want me to go.” Kurt said.

“There is a sign for a bed and breakfast and an inn…take that exit and follow along.  We aren’t going that far though.”

Kurt sighed. “Just tell me when to turn Blaine.”

Blaine snorted and played on his phone and Kurt drove until Blaine told him to turn.  Then Blaine started paying close attention to the road.

“See that turn right up there…the big open gate.  Turn there.” Blaine said.

Kurt turned, frowning.  

He followed the paved road up and around a bend and to the front of a large lodge thing.  He should have known. Blaine reached over and blasted the horn and guys spilled out the front.

Wes and David led the wave of boys who spilled out. Kurt noticed Jeff and Nick as well, and thought he might have seen a few others around somewhere…school, callbacks, or maybe even Dalton.

Blaine jumped out of the SUV and Kurt let his head fall forward against the steering wheel.  He sighed and got out of the car, watching as Blaine was passed from group to group for hugs and high fives and chest bumps and the whole nine yards.

“Kurt! I’m so glad Blaine talked you into camping with us!” Wes shouted, so Kurt could hear him over the noise the other guys were making.  “There is a fire out back and we’ve already set out drinks.  There is still some chowder on the stove if you haven’t eaten yet. Richards will be up later to clear it away, but he’ll leave snacks out, so don’t worry if you’re not hungry now. Would you like to take your bags up before you head out back?”

Kurt watched as Blaine draped his arm around a guy Kurt wasn’t familiar with and moved with the group of boys towards they backyard.

“I guess I’d better.” Kurt said.  He reached in and grabbed Blaine’s duffel bag and his backpack, giving the rest of the gear in the back a longing look. David was waiting for him instead of Wes.

David showed Kurt a room with double bed. “Wes got called to see if Richards would leave out stuff to make s’mores with. You lucked out; Blaine won the flip for this guest room.  Jeff was put out because he and Nick are one of the bunk rooms and he has to share with Lenny.”    

Kurt smiled.  He dropped off the bags and followed David out towards the back through the house, taking note of where everything was.

Half an hour later he went back into the kitchen for some soup.  Blaine hadn’t even acknowledged Kurt since they pulled up other than to get the keys so he could get his stuff from the front seats where he’d left it and then bring the keys back to Kurt.

Jeff wandered in a bit later, to see Kurt rinsing out his bowl.

“You don’t have to do that.  Richards is here.  He’ll come wash up later.”  Jeff said.

“I feel better if I do.” Kurt said.  

He listened to Jeff talk about his classes and clubs he was involved in.  He hadn’t realized Jeff and Nick were both at NYU and that several others they went to school with were at Columbia.

“Are you going to shoot with us tomorrow?” Jeff finally asked.

“Shoot?” Kurt asked.

“Wes has set up the archery range, but he’s also got trap shooting set up.”

“I haven’t ever done that.” Kurt said.

Jeff looked at him oddly. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

Kurt snorted.

“We go hunting.” Kurt simply said.

“Oh. I bet you could come shooting with us then. Of course if you don’t want to the hot tubs are both filled and the courts are set up and there is always gaming and TV in the house.  The pool isn’t filled though. This is the week the official pool cleaners come out and scrub it so it needed to be empty for that.”

Kurt just nodded.

“We should go see if they’ve started telling scary stories yet!” Jeff said, dragging Kurt back out to the yard.

Kurt watched as the guys told stories and drank and Blaine talked and chatted with everyone but him, leaning in and snuggling in to random guys all night. Blaine spent a good amount of time with two blonds in particular, both darker blonds than either Sam or Adam, but blonds none the less. Kurt mostly hung with Jeff, while Nick seemed to be having it out with a red headed man about the amount of alcohol he was consuming.

Kurt went up to bed at 1am.

He was one of four out of 25 up before 10am.  Wes was up working on some school work and two guys Kurt didn’t know, who ended up friends of David’s from Yale, were out in one of the hot tubs.

Richards was a very nice man in his early 50s who took care of the lodge throughout the year and stayed to do all the work needed when people were at the lodge.  He made a mean coffee cake and had no problem with Kurt making himself an omelet.

Richards showed Kurt the ATVs, all with keys ready so that they could be used, the dirt bikes and gear and the trails and explained how far back they could go before running into other people’s property or into the state forest.  There were a lot of woods out back and to the north of the house that Wes’ family owned.  He was warned not to get lost.

Blaine was finally awake around noon and Kurt joined him for lunch, along with most the rest of the guys.

Jeff bounded up to Kurt and Blaine (and the two blonds and a dark haired man whose hair was actually a mess of ringlets).

“We are going to the range this afternoon to shoot.  Wes decided he wanted to do skeet shooting and we don’t have the proper set up here for that.  Do you still want to come?” Jeff asked.

“Sure,” Kurt said.

Blaine looked at the two blonds who shook their heads and then answered. “I think I’ll stay here. I’m not big on shooting.”

Jeff looked at Blaine weird. “You love shooting with us.”

“I just think I’ll stay, but Kurt should definitely go if he wants.”

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes.  “I’ll follow you guys. When are we leaving?”

“We are heading out at 2.” Jeff answered and then waved as he bounded off to the next bunch of guys to see who was going.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Blaine?” Kurt asked.

“I’ll be fine.  I’ll hang with Ricky and Edwin. I doubt you knew them; they both graduated my first year at Dalton.  Ricky was the head of the Warblers council before Wes, he served with Wes and Wes’ cousin Lance,” the blond wearing the man bun waved, “and Edwin was fencing champion.  That’s why I knew all about fencing when we got to stage fighting class…I use to watch Edwin fence all the time.”

Kurt smiled while struggling to keep his snort in.  Blaine had been called out over and over and over for improper fencing during class, and ignored the teacher every time…insisting he knew the real rules. Kurt hadn’t interfered with that mess. Blaine and the professor’s animosity towards each other had become legendary and Kurt wanted no part in it. He and Blaine had not been paired since the fiasco that occurred the week he’d been able to participate again in class after being bashed in the head, so it was just easier to stay out of the fuss and focus on class and not upsetting Blaine by paying too much attention to any specific other people in class.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun, then.” Kurt said.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok, Kurt?” Edwin asked. “Don’t let Jeff bully you into shooting if you don’t want to.  Blaine has told us all about how you aren’t into things like sports and horror movies and such and prefer clothes and fashion and musicals.”

“Really now?” Kurt asked, smiling the type of smile that would have warned Santana and Rachel he wasn’t happy.  Blaine seemed not to notice.

“I’m sure we could find you some of the movies you’d like,” Ricky said. “Wes has girl cousins who come up here to the cabin every summer.  Most the movies pulled out for the week are horror or action movies, you know…guys films…though, sorry.  I’m sure you’ll have time to watch other things though when we are doing the tournament video games later today and tomorrow.  There is a TV in the back room past the gym equipment since we use the TV room, the theater and the gaming room for tournaments, but it’s hooked up to a DVD player and the satellite.  Patrick and Felix are really the only ones who don’t participate in the tourney. Felix totally would but his brain won’t let him be in the room with video games for long.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Kurt said.

“Felix is the boy who looks like a clone of David.” Blaine said.  “Patrick is the red head without the huge mass of freckles.  Neil has the freckles.”

“Thanks, Blaine. Did I see Conner last night?” Kurt asked.  Conner was one of the non-warblers Kurt had been friendly with when at Dalton.  Blaine had hated him since.  Kurt had always thought it hilarious that Blaine hadn’t wanted to date him or notice Kurt’s crush on him but had bristled up like a dog protecting its bone whenever Kurt spoke with Conner.

Blaine growled. “Yes, he’s here with his boyfriend, Jake.”

“Cool, I’ll have to find him and catch up later.” Kurt said.

“Kurt, he is very serious about Jake.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Yes, Blaine. I’m sure he is.”  Kurt fiddled with the ring on his finger.   He and Conner had never been like that anyway…Conner wasn’t even out at the time to anyone and Kurt was who he’d approached about things. Kurt had once asked why he didn’t talk to Blaine and Conner had answered that he knew Blaine couldn’t keep a secret. Kurt had just nodded. “Who was the guy Nick was tal…”

“Come on, Blaine. Let’s go see if they’ve started the after lunch movie!” the dark haired guy said as he pulled Blaine towards the huge theater room that Kurt had seen on the way to the kitchen.

“Have fun later, Kurt!” Blaine yelled as he bounced after the others.

Kurt sighed at his questioning being interrupted. He went out to check out the trails in the woods to the north of the house.  He’d at least get hiking into his foiled camping trip.

Ten minutes of slow wandering into the woods on the largest trail and he could no longer hear the boys screaming and yelling at each other outside where they were playing basketball and tennis.  Five minutes after that several game trails broke off the path and Kurt decided to take one of those to see where it led.

It was a short trail, not more than about 100 to 200 steps. It led to a lovely clearing with a brook running through the back of it and wildflowers peeking through the carpet of old fallen leaves.  There were some great trees surrounding the clearing, huge green leaves making the light coming through dapple over the few evergreens.  Kurt brushed the leaves away, finding the ground mostly dirt under a copse of evergreens and birch and giving away to green grass which was trying to fight the dead leaves.

He made plans to come out the next day with his sketch book and pencils and possibly the camera before heading back to the house so he didn’t miss the trip to the shooting range.

It wasn’t all that late when Kurt got back, so he joined Jeff and Nick at the archery set up at the far end of the lawn.  He didn’t see Blaine anywhere.

Using the bows Wes had for everyone’s use was fun, but Kurt missed his own. When he complained Nick teased him.

“What,” Kurt said. “My dad’s cousin was ecstatic when he learned of my interest in bows.  Granted it started because I watched Robin Hood, but it was something he could work with in making a connection, you know. So when I outgrew my first bow, he took me and had a friend make me a longbow I could hunt with but would also look cool and be useful as a prop.  I also have a hand crafted recurve and he is trying to convince me to come to the dark-side and join his love of cross-bows.”

“You’ve hunted with a bow?” Nick asked.

“I’ve gone bow hunting.” Kurt said. “I try not to actually hit anything and my dad and his cousin’s family all promise not to tease me too much when I cry as they field dress Bambi.”

Jeff had to sit down because he was laughing so hard.

“You should have joined the archery team at Dalton.” Jeff said.

Kurt snorted. “Do you remember what happened when Drew’s tire went flat?”

Nick snorted.

“The day at the Lima Bean?” Jeff said.

“Yeah.  I offered to fix it and Blaine got all ‘You can’t do that. You don’t even like sports. You’ll mess up your hands. You’ll mess up Drew’s car. You’ll mess up your uniform. What makes you think you could actually fix a car?’ condescending about it, so I just called someone because Drew didn’t even know who usually looked after his car.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Nick said.

“I decided there that if Blaine wanted this fairy prince idea of me then who was I to ruin it?  He wasn’t listening to anything contrary to it anyway, why force the issue? I joined badminton as my sport, although I admit if the ballroom dance team had had an opening I might have considered that. I steered clear of those sports that Blaine considered too much for my delicate little self and just let it be.”

“So, you could have changed the tire?” Jeff asked.

“Jeff, my dad is a mechanic. We own Hummel’s Tires and Lube. I’ve known how to change a tire since I was 8…by myself for the most part.”

Nick laughed.

“But, Blaine says you work as a singing waiter.” Jeff said.

“I like that job.  I also work at Vogue.com.   My choice of jobs is one of those just because I can do it doesn’t mean I always want to do it things.” Kurt said.

Wes called them to head off before anyone could say anything more.

To Kurt’s surprise, there were 18 guys heading to the shooting range and two of the others had headed into town to pick up something for Wes.  Wes said the others were staying behind to work on projects and stuff for school.

Kurt worried Blaine would be bored, but decided to stick it out for a while.  He stayed about an hour, hitting about 2/3s of the clay discs during his turns.  He couldn’t call the time spent at the range a loss though; he’d spoken to Conner and met his Jake, who could not have been a better match for Conner if Kurt had been able to manufacture a boy for him.  He made plans to see them during the summer.  They were both at Yale.  He spoke and joked with Jeff and Nick some more.  He got to hang with David a bit, who oddly enough was not hanging with Wes as much as Kurt expected. It was great but he was still worried. He told Wes he was heading back to the house and waved goodbye to Nick and Jeff and David.

Kurt parked off to the side so others could get in and out easier when he got to the house and then headed in.   He pulled the SUV up off to the side of the trail he’d hiked down earlier.  He waved to Richards, who looked like he was starting dinner, as he entered into the kitchen and then went hunting to find Blaine.

Blaine wasn’t in the theater room.  Some horror film was playing, but Kurt didn’t see anyone in the room watching it.  He found one of the guys who’d been hanging around Jeff the night before in what Kurt had declared the library, surrounded by books and typing as fast as his fingers could fly.

The dark haired kid and Ricky were located in one of the Hot Tubs. Kurt saw them as he passed by and headed towards the game room.

The game room was empty, the inside gym was empty, the music room was empty. The laundry room was empty as was the formal dining room, the mud room, and the Kitchen…except for Richards. Kurt sighed and went to their room to get his IPod and go relax in the library with the guy working on his school work.

Their room wasn’t empty. The door wasn’t even shut.

Blaine was on the bed riding Edwin with more gusto than he’d ever shown while having sex with Kurt, and Edwin was calling him all sort of pettish type names that Blaine was simply eating up.  The kind Blaine got upset at Kurt for using.

Kurt turned and headed down the stairs to the kitchen and Richards’ peaceful presence.

“So,” Kurt said after watching the man for a while. “Are there any actual rules about doing actual camping on the property?”

“As far as I know, no one has ever considered it,” Richards said.

Kurt nodded.

“But you know of no rules against it?” Kurt asked.

“There are no tents or anything around.”

Kurt nodded. He headed outside to the trail he took earlier.  It was big enough for the ATV until the game trail.  Kurt pulled the ATV to the back of the SUV and went to the garage to swipe a few bungie cords.  He loaded the two coolers and the propane tank first and drove them to the game trail, unloading them and dragging them down the game trail until he reached the clearing. He drove back to the SUV and loaded the camp stove, the tent and a normal camp chair and the camp table. He drove those out to the game trail and took them one by one into the clearing.  He headed back to the house and wandered into the Kitchen again, asking Richards if he knew when the other boys would be back.

Wes had called and told Richards they’d be back in about an hour and to have snacks ready.  Kurt nodded and stayed to help make snacks, grabbing a few mini quiches before heading back out the door when Richards turned his attention towards dinner again.

Kurt loaded a tarp from the garage onto the ATV and sat the air mattress, the generator, the sleeping bags, blankets and pillows onto the tarp. He added the camp chair that reclined somewhat and had a foot rest to his pile. He loaded his art box and the bag of stuff from the kitchen, and finally the box with all the cooking and camping stuff he’d packed. He tossed the messenger bag with his laptop and camera in it over his shoulder and took off one more time down the trail.

After he moved everything into the clearing he’d tucked the messenger bag into the tarp bundle, secured with the bungee cords, and road back to the house.  He headed into the theater room and started a new movie, fast forwarding it to about 40 minutes into the movie.  He’d seen Men In Black enough to not have to worry about missing out on anything.

Jeff and Nick’s voices carried and Kurt hopped up and headed out to see the guys who’d just got back. Nick was once again having an animated discussion with a red head, but not either mentioned by Blaine. Jeff was looking a bit worried, but noticed Kurt and waved. Blaine and Edwin and Ricky and the dark haired guy were all in the Hot Tubs and Kurt made sure to wave as he went around back with the group coming in from shooting.

“Wes,” Kurt said siding up to him, “I’m going to go in and lay down.  I forgot to wear the earplugs while out at the range and have given myself a headache.”

Wes waved and nodded. “If you miss dinner, there is always food in the fridge.”

Kurt smiled and nodded to him.  Then he went up to the room and packed the few things he’d taken out back into the backpack and took the backpack downstairs, tucking it into the garage against the wall.

He went into the kitchen and grabbed more snacks and stuffed them into a baggie and grabbed some pain meds and a bottle of water. He waved to Richards. He went down the hall towards the stairs and the rooms, then turned back and ducked out a side door.

He fetched the backpack from the garage and ran to the trail, then happily and cheerfully hiked his way into the woods, to the game trail and into the clearing.  He sang as he went.

“Into the woods, It's time to go, It may be all In vain, I know. Into the woods- But even so, I have to take the journey.”

Kurt felt lyrics had never so rightly expressed his feelings.

Kurt spent the next two hours setting up camp to his liking, listening to the Into the Woods soundtrack as he worked. It seemed appropriate. The music made his task seem quicker and less lonely.  Singing made everything feel less tight.  It hadn’t been that way in a while. Kurt tried not to think about why.

Kurt counted his blessing as he set up as well. He had the tent to himself.  He had the air mattress to himself.  He had his pillows.  Everything would stay hair gel free.

He realized he was missing a few items, but by the time he’d decided he wanted those it was nearly dark. Kurt made himself an omelet again and a list of what he needed to get from the house.  He took stock of what he had food wise and what he’d need to make and eat first. He decided to deposit what he didn’t want into the fridge of the house the next day, but without feeding two he would still have plenty to go around.  Besides, first he had to see if he could make it through the night.  It would be the first night camping alone he’d ever done.

Kurt put on warm clothes and kicked back in his deluxe camp chair with one of the books until it got too dark.  Then he curled himself up in the sleeping bag nest he’d created with his laptop and watched one of the movies he’d put on it. When it finished, Kurt curled into his sleeping bag and bawled about everything until he fell asleep.

He slept through the night but woke early the next morning, which was fine by him.  He wanted in and out again with minimal contact.  He located the plastic wrap and wrapped all the meat he’d brought, except the frozen fish and a package of bacon, and tucked it into his emptied messenger bag.

Even hiking back to the house had him up and in the kitchen before anyone else. He tucked the food into the fridge and swiped one of the sleep masks that had been sitting in the cabinet that held the pain meds that Kurt had seen the night before.  Kurt headed into the garage, where he borrowed a pair of hedge clippers which he could also use to cut rope, rope and another tarp and an empty box that wasn’t too large.  He headed back into the kitchen and nicked a pack of frozen imitation crab, some butter cubes, and some fresh green onions and tomatoes and a bunch of fruit…bananas, oranges, grapes, pears, kiwis, berries.  He tucked into his bag some fancy cheese spreads and a box of fancy crackers and a small loaf of French bread.

He noticed a note on the fridge door that mentioned the showers in the pool house were open and people should shower out there as well so there wouldn’t be too much wait.

Kurt skipped back to his camp and then skipped back to the pool house shower with a change of clothes and his personal care items in tow.  The pool house not only had showers, but sinks and toilets as well. It was empty still, although he could now see movement up at the house.

Kurt was showered and back out towards his camp in fifteen minutes.

His day was blissful. He took photos of the brook and trees and flowers and all sorts of stuff, lovely detailed ones.  He was sort of planning out part of Carole’s Christmas gift if he could locate someplace to turn the photos into a calendar.

Kurt also spent time sketching.  He was taking set design over the summer and recalled from listening to those Apples who’d been in the class that those in the class were encouraged to get practice in sketching as many different environments as possible.  He drew flowers and mushrooms and trees and rocks, focusing on details in some pictures and the big picture in others.  He went on small hikes, following little trails here and there around his camp site.  He kept his ears open for anyone yelling his name.

He wrote and he practiced his vocal piece and his drama piece. He let his anger out at a spot on one of his mini hikes where a stream ran through what seemed to be rock walls and that had a lovey echo.  Kurt screamed and yelled and called Blaine all sorts of foul names and shouted curses upon him and his future generations, which was oddly satisfying.

Kurt went back to his camp for lunch, where he ate some of the pilfered cheese and fruit and drank specialty root beers. He packed into the small box all the food items that he couldn’t really use without a campfire…the makings for the Dutch oven peach cobbler, the marshmallows and s’mores ingredients, half the potatoes, the other items he’d bought for tinfoil dinners, and more than half the sodas.  He figured he’d just take those things back to the SUV, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with them at camp.

He settled down to read some more and then checked his email and Facebook and played around on the internet for  a while, plugging the external battery in to the generator and pedaling as it charged so he could watch movies again that night while he used the computer.  He decided to charge his phone while he read in the evening and his IPod while he read the next morning.

He fixed himself a fry-up for dinner, using half the bacon and some potatoes, cheese, onions, eggs and peppers.  He used a grocery bag he’d left stuff in to put the trash in and determined to take it to the house after it got dark.

Kurt dug out the flashlight he’d packed and took the trash, his personal care items, and the box to be taken to the SUV back to the house a bit after dark.  He went to the SUV first and put the box in the back.  Then he ditched the bag of trash in the outside dumpster. He saw a few people milling about, a few guys in the Hot Tubs and a few more by the fire pit.  He spoke to one of the guys he didn’t know who said most were in the house playing a video game tournament.  Kurt nodded. He headed to the pool house to shower and use the bathroom.  There were some things he was not doing in the woods unless he absolutely had to.

On the way out, he nicked several smaller trash bags from the box of the under the sink.

The night was spent peacefully curled up in his tent, without the crying of the night before. He’d put on the sleep mask, as well, so he actually slept a bit late.  Kurt wasn’t too upset about it.  During the night he decided he really wanted to play on one of the dirt bikes, so he figured he’d stick around for a bit and being seen wouldn’t be bad, unless it was Blaine…besides he hadn’t slept in that much.  It wasn’t even 8am yet.

Kurt skipped off to the pool house to do his morning routine…messenger bag in tow with clean clothes and his phone to take selfies on the dirt bike.

He slipped into the kitchen and found breakfast laid out, waffle batter to be put in the waffle makers and the goodies to top waffles with and decided to eat. Two waffles later, and a bowl of sugared peaches in cream later, Kurt skipped out the door to the dirt bikes. He was just barely hearing movement.  He wandered around the bikes and decided on a yellow one that was good height and engine size.  He fetched a helmet and jacket and took off on the bike to the area Richards had said was a bike course.

He was out on the bike for over an hour, going over the trails on the course three times a piece. He decided one of the first things he was doing when he got home was calling his dad and spending a whole lot of time apologizing for not letting him buy him one when he was younger.  He might need to send apology gift baskets to the guys his dad worked with as well.  He might not have become the racer they wanted but he would have loved one of these bikes.

He headed back to the house and met another of those guys he didn’t actually know as he was parking the bike.  After a quick exchange where Kurt gave directions to the bike course and the guy informed Kurt that no one was down at the pool house anymore, Kurt went off and quickly took another shower to remove the dust and sweat.  There were a few guys out down by the archery course, but Kurt didn’t see anyone else as he skipped on back to his camp.  There were three bikes gone and he could hear them somewhere off a ways though, so he figured the guy he spoke with went and dragged out some friends.

The rest of Monday consisted of pedaling to charge Kurt’s IPod while he sketched an absolute brilliant Robin Hood costuming idea making Robin Hood and his Merry Men not people who went to archery tournaments but people who competed on the Motocross circuit…ok, maybe not so brilliant but fun none-the-less, and as he was sketching for fun it didn’t matter. He decided to charge the external battery again since he was still sketching when the IPod was fully changed, and then the other battery for the lantern.

He made an imitation crab omelet with onions and tomato and peppers and mushrooms and cheese.  He was almost down to a dozen eggs from two dozen, but his cold foods were still cold, so he wasn’t all that worried.  He might have to go up and sneak some milk out in a day or so, but he’d worry about that when he got there.

After lunch and clean up, he settled into his chair for some more reading.  He’d finished the first novel and was starting the second.  With any luck he could get at least four of the five books he brought read.   By about four in the afternoon, with still no one calling for him, Kurt was starting to wonder about Jeff and Nick at the very least and why they hadn’t been asking after him.  Of course he hadn’t seen Jeff’s car that morning either, so maybe that had something to do with it.

By late evening, after Kurt had made himself some soup with chicken stock and potatoes, adding the rest of the bacon and the rest of the onion and pepper and mushrooms, he settled down to check his social media and watch a movie before sneaking back to the house.  Everything was fine. He hadn’t missed any calls or anything.

The trip to the house at just after 10pm was uneventful.  No one was outside at all, even though there was a fire in the fire pit. Kurt was washed and ready to head back to his camp, trash tossed, without having seen anyone.

He slept the night through without any problems, but forgot the eye mask so was up way early.  That was fine; he wanted to nick some milk anyway. Kurt picked up the empty water bottle he’d set aside for the purpose and tucked it in to his messenger bag.  The house was silent when he got there, however once again breakfast was waiting.  This time there was a huge pot of oatmeal and some absolutely heavenly looking scrambled eggs being kept warm in one of those containers used at like restaurant brunches.  

Kurt ate eggs, which were divine, and a small bowl of oatmeal with fruit and cream mixed in and honey for sweetener. He nicked a water bottle full of milk and a partially used block of Colby Jack and several little balls of mozzarella. He still had some of the spreads left.  He nicked a few bagels and a partially used tub of cream cheese and another small loaf of French bread.  He picked up a lemon from the basket of fruit, as well as a banana, some grapes, an apple, and the rest of three berry baskets from the fridge.  He also swiped more mushrooms, an onion, two bell peppers and a mostly used bag of spinach leaves.

His shower was quick and he was done before anyone else seemed to be up.  He decided to go hiking again after lunch and to bring his paints.

He spent the morning on his computer, looking at his classes needed and what he could take over the summer.  He planned on set design already, in fact was signed up for it.  There was a dialect course he thought would be fun and if he took it during summer, if wouldn’t interfere with his singing course, which he heard it could.  He decided to also do his vocal projection course, make-up arts, and one of the other history of theater courses.  That would give him a full load for summer, but an easier load than was carried for normal semesters.   He checked to see if he could register them yet…and he could, so he got that done. He emailed Carole, to let her know what days he wouldn’t be going to school over the summer…which included every Friday oddly enough.

Kurt fixed himself the left over soup for lunch, finishing it off with the bread and some of the Colby Jack.  He washed what needed washing and put together a small kit to take hiking…watercolor papers taped down onto cardboard rectangles that were small enough to easily carry, about six, his watercolor cake set…small but containing 12 colors, a water bottle for drinking and one for using with the watercolors, a plastic cup and a plastic palette. He tucked his IPod into his pocket and let the ear buds dangle and turned the music loud enough that he could hear.

He left his phone on the table where he’d packed.

He had a grand time. He found the most delightful mushrooms to paint and a set of wildflowers that were peeking above leaves that were still bright red and yellow.  He painted the little waterfall that cascaded between the rocks where he’d yelled earlier. He tried a little blue bird but he wasn’t sure he’d go so far as to call what came out a bird. Finally he painted a rock with moss all over it like a carpet.

He hopped and skipped back to the camp.  It had been ages since he felt so content.

His phone was shrilly ringing when he got back.  He looked at who was calling and saw Rachel’s number so ignored it.

He set out the paintings so they could dry even more and pulled out the fish so it could thaw enough to cook for his dinner. Then Kurt opened his laptop to Facebook.  He called his Dad right then.

Because apparently, Kurt was Lost In The Woods. He couldn’t hear anyone calling for him, but there it was spattered all over his Facebook page…he’d been lost in the woods for three days or maybe two…or maybe just one.  No one could recall seeing him…but some people said they had. But those people all said ridiculous things so obviously they were just saying stuff to make themselves feel important. Blaine noticed he was gone first…no Nick and Jeff did and Blaine was surprised…no Nick and Jeff are wrong, Blaine DID notice Kurt was gone first…if Blaine noticed then why was he surprised when Jeff asked about Kurt…on and on and on.

Rachel was in hysterics and said this was going to ‘ruin her big chance’ she was so upset.

Santana suggested they look for a trail of glitter dust.

Mercedes was wondering if she needed to head out to New York and cancel a show to do so and help look.

Mike asked if they had checked nearby camp grounds and was promptly told how silly he was and asked if he remember who was ‘lost in the woods’.  Mike responded that maybe they should all think about that same question a bit.

Puck asked if anyone had asked his dad or Carole if they had heard from him.  No one answered Puck.

Kurt sighed and turned off his computer. He plugged it into the external battery to charge.  He plugged his IPod into the pedal generator and his little external speaker and started to pedal. He called his dad again…who asked if he was safe and then said he really didn’t care as long as no authorities were called in.  Then asked why none had yet been.

Kurt said he didn’t know and that he was close enough to hear if anyone was actually looking for him or calling for him...and no one was.

“I mean seriously, Dad, I am a 10 minute brisk walk away from the house everyone is staying at. I was at the house this morning and there was no one even up. I spent the morning in my camp registering for school, sent Carole an email, and then spent the afternoon till I called the first time wandering around the woods, and not always deeper into the woods, stopping in places long enough to PAINT! No one has been out here looking.” Kurt nearly yelled.

“And you’re sure you’re warm enough?”

“I got hiking clothing, Dad. I could model for some catalogue like LLBean.” Kurt said with a sneer. “Granted there are a few pieces I might consider moving into my normal wardrobe…but most are too lumberjack chic for my tastes. I got lined jeans, Dad and they do nothing to enhance any sort of figure what-so-ever!”

Kurt smiled as he heard his dad’s laughed.

“What are you doing up there anyway?” his dad asked.

Kurt explained the magazine and how he totally misunderstood the word ‘camping’ in Blaine’s world.

“I’m not kidding; these guys seem to think staying in the house is camping…because they have a fire in the fire pit out back and do things like archery or go shooting and have dirt bikes and ATVs out for use.  It is ridiculous. I swear I made Jeff loose his capacity for speech when I said I had been shooting before, but never trap or skeet shooting…I went hunting. Luckily I did that while chatting the first night we got here and not while out shooting the bows at targets the next morning.  It would have been a shame to have shocked him so badly he took his bow shot when I mentioned hunting while at the bows; Jeff was so not being safe and would have probably hit one of the guys running about the yard at that time.”

“Anything good come about with this?”  Burt asked.

“I have reconnected with Jeff and Nick; I didn’t even know they were in New York.  I have reconnected with a few other of the Warblers. I have learned you can rent equipment from the Student Recreation Center and that NYADA has a Student Recreation Center, and it has this awesome climbing wall and a pool that is just open to students and staff and they do extra dance, fencing, stage combat, tumbling and classes like that for a low fee. I bought this absolutely awesome generator which had these pedals and you pedal on it to charge stuff, but it is easy to pedal, so you can just sit there and pedal as you read or such at the camp and you can charge things like your phone or IPod or tablets or charge external batteries which you can use to charge things like laptops…or a lantern.  I also bought a very nice lantern.  I figured both could be useful for emergencies, like if we lost power again, so I dipped into the emergency fund at the sporting goods shop…which did include clothing purchases but I’ll refund that money back into the emergency fund. Anyway, the sporting goods shop had this awesome first time student buyer discount of 50% and then another 20% discount for a single item. And their student discount is usually 30% off anyway, which is really good.  I have decided that Blaine is a cheating and lying piece of crap and not worth my time or effort.  Oh, and I would like to officially apologize for telling you ‘no’ when you offered me a dirt bike…I was a fool, those things are awesome.  I took out a 250cc four stroke and it was so fun. I didn’t even care the helmet messed my hair up.  I seriously should have let you talk me into that when little.”

“Back-up kiddo.  What was that about Blaine?” Burt asked.

Kurt sighed.

“I was willing to go ‘camping’ Blaine style when we got here, but he spared NO attention to me at all, except once to warn me off talking to an old friend…making it sound like I was the one who cheated and was after guys even though we are engaged…which I don’t think anyone there knows or pays attention to, even though the blasted engagement happened at Dalton.  So I came back from skeet shooting early and walked in on Blaine being screwed by someone else! So…I am done.  We have been fighting about everything since he moved back in, he gets mad at me every time I try to tell him anything like…oh, you should study, we have a huge test next week or we do need to go to class, it is kind of one of those things you do when you go to school, and he never listens to me, not about what I like to eat, not about what I’d like to watch, and not about not wanting to get married until after I have graduated! Then he is hanging with these guys and not telling me, lying about where he’s been or what he’s been doing, and now he’s fucking around and I’m done.”

“Oh, Kurt.  So that’s why you ended out on your own?” his dad asked.

“Yep.”

“And are you going to go tell them you aren’t lost?” his dad asked.

“Nope.  Not until someone comes yelling for me.  I’m not exactly hiding.  Or if the authorities come yelling for me, or in with the sirens…I’d be able to hear them I’m sure. We’re supposed to leave Friday afternoon so we’ll be back Friday night so Blaine can do some studying for finals week and get together his presentations and such. So if no one comes yelling before then I’ll break camp and then go borrow the ATV to move everything back to the SUV so we can go.”

“You telling Blaine you’re done then?” Burt asked.

“Not planning on it. I’m planning on right after finals week. That way his schooling disaster can’t be blamed on me…although it probably will anyway.”

“You are sure he’s going to fail?” Burt asked.

“Dad, we share 6 classes…he pulled strings to get into them.  I have done half my finals stuff already.  I spent weeks putting together presentations, picking and working on pieces, writing papers, practicing my dance stuff…although we don’t share that class.   I don’t think he has given any serious thought to any of it.”

“It’s ok, Kiddo. It is not your responsibility to make him do his work.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Well, I’m going to go make sure Carole doesn’t think you’re lost in the woods.  You take care and find something relaxing to do.”

Kurt leaned back in his camp chair, his feet stilling after his dad hung up. He really didn’t want to become ‘unlost’ until someone tried to find him, however he wasn’t sure he wanted to sacrifice his evening shower and tending to business either.  He also sort of wanted to see if he could figure out how come, if he was lost enough to shout about it all over Facebook, no one was looking for him and how come it took this long for anyone to notice he wasn’t around.

The first answer, of course was to see if he could figure out a more detailed timeline from Facebook.

Kurt popped open his laptop and got on Facebook.  He ignored the message box for the time being and just started looking at the feed.

At a bit after noon, Blaine posted on his wall about Kurt not being around and to stop calling him to talk to Kurt.  Jeff answered with ‘where the hell is he, since that was what you said last night as well’ and ‘if you don’t want me to call you to talk to Kurt, give me his damn phone number’. Jeff, who has check-ins at food places and such, was in NYC with Nick and Lenny… who was apparently Nick’s brother and who they had to rush back to NYC because he didn’t feel well and then who ended up having his appendix out. They had left right after Kurt had headed to the bedroom according to the posts on Nick’s Facebook page, which was oddly enough how he seemed to be communicating with his mother. Anyway, apparently Nick had wanted to ask Kurt something and was trying to get hold of him, but was busy and almost constantly on the phone with other family members and didn’t have his current phone number. So, Nick had Jeff calling Blaine…starting Monday afternoon. Jeff was apparently told consistently that Kurt was probably off in the bathroom and Blaine would have him call as soon as he got out, or outside and Blaine would have him call as soon as he got in, or sleeping and Blaine would have him call in the morning…or just not around that Blaine could see and Blaine would have him call as soon as he came around. The phones calls never last long because Blaine would then tell Jeff he was in the middle of something and then hang up on Jeff…no offer to take a message or anything.

Also a bit after noon, Jeff called Wes and asked if he could find Kurt and give him Nick’s number so he could call Nick since Blaine wouldn’t.  He also called David, to ask him to look for Kurt but David was in NYC as well, picking up one of their friends from the airport…whose flight had been delayed for 12 hours and so ended up in at 11am on Tuesday not 11pm on Monday, in fact when Jeff called they were still in the airport as even that time was late and they were still waiting for the luggage to be able to be picked up. David couldn’t remember seeing Kurt past the shooting range.  However, Blaine had also told David each time he asked that Kurt was hanging with Conner or with Jeff and Nick…because he didn’t like video games.  Jeff pointed out that he and Nick had been gone since right after they got back from the shooting range, Kurt wasn’t hanging out with them.

Wes called Nick, since Jeff was on the phone with David, and told him he couldn’t find Kurt.  And that Blaine couldn’t actually seem to remember the last time he’d seen him.

Nick posted up a note on Kurt’s Facebook page asking Blaine how he could treat his fiancé like he was. Jeff posted a note asking any of Kurt’s friends if he’d been in touch. Wes asked why Nick thought Kurt and Blaine were engaged…and found out about Blaine’s proposal at Dalton and that they hadn’t even been dating again for two full days and about how many people were there and then started questioning Blaine…still over Kurt’s page…about that situation. Blaine had said nothing other than hadn’t he done a fabulous job at making such a grand display.

Wes posted that supposedly some people had seen Kurt, with the dirt bikes or walking around by the pool house showers…but Blaine posted that the dirt bike story was obviously stupid…didn’t they know Kurt? Of course he refused to answer when asked when he’d seen Kurt last.

Then Wes posted that no one could find Kurt and did that mean he was lost?  And when did he get lost?  And how could no one notice Kurt was missing?

And Kurt’s Facebook page exploded into chaos when his Lima friends all started commenting…none except maybe Mike and Puck in any manner that helped.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. David posted that he and Ravi, the friend he was picking up, would be on their way and some people had a whole lot of explaining to do. Jeff and Nick posted that they would be up in the morning, however they still couldn’t leave until Nick’s mom got back to look after Lenny, who was apparently hopeless and didn’t even have a single friend who could be trusted not to screw up his recovery.

Still, no one at the house right now was looking for him. He figured that he’d walk down and decide then if he was going to risk the shower and toilet or not.  However, dinner was calling and he deserved something good.

The fish had thawed enough to be fried up and Kurt seasoned it with the lemon and some butter.  He ate some fruit and the bagel and cream cheese. He broke out another of the fancy sodas. He washed up.  He gathered the used water bottles and tucked them into a bag he was using for recycling. He gathered the trash and put it in another. He plugged the external battery into the generator yet again and peddled while reading his novel until it was too dark to read anymore. He switched out items to be charged half way through and charged his IPod.  His phone was still fine.

At nearly midnight, Kurt took his bag with his stuff in it and walked down to the house. He’d probably hit things just right, David had just pulled in when Kurt hit the tree line. Kurt leaned against a tree to watch and gather information which he hoped would shed some light on his ‘disappearance’ and the lack of hunting for him.

“Would you like to explain what the Fuck is going on?” David yelled  at Wes who had exited the house as David stood from behind the driver’s seat.

“I don’t know.” Wes said. “All I know is that when Jeff called at about one-ish, and I went to ask Blaine where Kurt was, Chez got all huffy and yelled at me because Blaine was getting grouchy and not being as fun since Jeff kept calling.  He and Ricky were hanging in the exercise room and said Blaine wasn’t with them, so I left to look for him, however Blaine and Edwin were there when I walked back by like two minutes later. I asked Blaine where Kurt was…he said he was probably with Conner.  I found Conner, who hadn’t seen Kurt since the shooting range...nor had Jake. Conner said he thought Kurt and Blaine had been together tucked up in their room enjoying their time together, since that was what Kurt thought the week was for and since he hadn’t seen either.”

“I went back to ask Blaine why Conner thought he and Kurt would be tucked up together and who else might Kurt be hanging with, but I couldn’t find any of the four, so I just started asking about Kurt.  Rocko was certain Kurt was the one who told him about the dirt bike trails. Lex thought he’d talked to Kurt Sunday night about how everyone was up playing video tournaments still so the shower was free. No one else can recall seeing him around. So, I asked Blaine if he knew if Kurt’s stuff was in the bedroom or not…after hunting him and Edwin and Ricky and Chez back down…this time to the hot tubs. He said he didn’t know … he hadn’t looked. I asked when he saw Kurt last.  He shrugged and said he hadn’t been to their room since Sunday afternoon really, just long enough to get some clothes so he could bunk down with Edwin and Ricky and catch up with them. So I asked if he realized no one had seen Kurt since Saturday afternoon, did he see Kurt after he’d gone up to bed with his headache? Blaine said he hadn’t even known Kurt had gone up with a headache, he’d slept on the floor of the movie room after watching movies all night long with Edwin and then didn’t look for Kurt because Kurt is always up early so of course he wasn’t in the room when Blaine went and got his clothing and such on Sunday.”

“So Kurt’s been missing since Saturday Night?” David yelled.

“Well, maybe?” Wes said.

“Where have you looked?” David shouted again.

“Umm….”

“Wes?” David’s voice dropped very low and dark.  Ravi, or at least that was who Kurt assumed had also climbed out of the car was, laughed.

“The house?” Wes said. “Look, It’s not my fault.  I kept asking around if people had seen Kurt and Conner found out I was asking around about Kurt so he took off to find Blaine and then all of a sudden it was like world war three! I don’t know if anyone but Felix doesn’t have blood on them somewhere! You had been calling and everyone was antsy and so when Conner found Blaine and started screaming at him everyone just joined in….then Chez threw a punch at Jake when Jake said something about boyfriends and then others started throwing punches and when Richards finally blew the blow horn and everyone stopped, you had a bunch of guys who were just caught in the middle and then one side who said Blaine was engaged to Kurt and were screaming about that and one side who kept insisting the other was delusional, after all Blaine was with Edwin, didn’t we all know that? It was insane.  People even ended up going to the ER. So we had to spend hours patching people up and stopping the little fights that keep breaking out here and there and our friends from college are all stressed at being caught in the middle. Most of the guys have calmed somewhat, since Jake took Conner off to the ER and Brent went with them, he thinks he might have fracture his foot. Except Rocko, who seems to still want to tear Blaine limb from limb.”

“Blaine isn’t with Edwin.” David said.

“Yes he is.” Wes said. “They’ve been an item since Edwin saw Blaine perform at the old lady’s showcase….the one we left early.”

“The one you left early. The rest of us stayed, remember? We wanted to talk to Kurt but Blaine took Kurt off someplace before we could, well…I wanted to talk to Kurt. And Felix wanted to meet Kurt.  Blaine announced Kurt as his fiancé there.”

“Don’t be silly, David. I was with Blaine and Edwin the next day and they decided to see each other then.”

“Like it would matter at all to Edwin if Blaine was engaged or not.” David said “I am not kidding, Wes. Kurt and Blaine are engaged.”

“No, Blaine is with Edwin. They go out about three times a week in the evening. They hang out on weekends during the day.  And Edwin’s not as wild as he used to be, he promised he’d stopped the behavior that got him suspended way back then.”

“And you believed him. He never changed, Wes. He just stopped screwing with kids with enough clout to do anything about him. When did Blaine and Kurt break up?” David asked, throwing his hands in the air.

“I don’t know.”

“And where does Blaine live?” David asked.

“He lives with Kurt, remember?  He moved in when Kurt’s roommates left…” Wes said.

“Ok.  So…you know Kurt…do you think Kurt would have Blaine move in with him after they broke-up recently?” David asked, very slowly.

“Well, no.” Wes said. “but maybe it wasn’t recent?”

“Ok…Let’s play with that idea.  So…we all know and accept that Kurt and Blaine broke up early October of Blaine’s senior year, right?” David asked, still drawing out the sentence like he was talking to a very small child.  Kurt had his bag up to his face to stifle any laughter.  The guy David had brought with him wasn’t even trying.

“Yes.  Trent said Blaine was devastated.” Wes said.

“Did he? Huh, Sebastian said Blaine was only upset when he wasn’t chasing that blond kid Sam around and if people mentioned Kurt.”

“Well, Sebastian is an ass, besides, how would he know?” Wes said.

“Yes, well Blaine spent months and months with Sebastian the year before on the phone and at coffee shops and skyping and texting and going to Country Club gatherings together, so I figure he probably knows Blaine’s behavior well.”

“He drugged them!” Wes shouted.

“Hunter, the guy YOUR godfather brought into the school, drugged them.  Sebastian was one of TEN who were completely clean, and it was Sebastian who brought forth the evidence after Blaine and Sam took their story to the board and nearly got all of them expelled and jailed. Including the blackmailing and threats Hunter was using against half the kids he was drugging. The other half…the ones not being blackmailed or threatened… were your godfathers minions brought in to prop up Hunter.  Besides, the reason Sebastian knew how Blaine was acting is because Sebastian’s role in Hunter’s regime was to keep tabs on Blaine, so they could either get him back like YOU wanted or nullify the threat that several saw Blaine as, for some reason.”

Wes growled. “I thought you said you agreed with me about everything that went down.”

“Again, you weren’t listening. I have argued with you about this since we graduated and I met older Warblers, ones who weren’t under your Godfather’s reign of terror. I argued with you THEN that you needed to go to the school and replace YOUR council choice when Blaine left, which you refused to do because if you couldn’t have Blaine replace you, you didn’t want anyone else to take his spot.  I agreed we should have set up the council more solidly before we left…I should have listened to others and picked a choice truly my own instead of following your advice… and we should have drilled Blaine on his intentions before summer.  He was talking about leaving before he left to his summer job, he wanted a Nationals title.”

“He went for Kurt.” Wes said. “Thad said so.”

“And the Warblers who weren’t so enthralled with him to let him push and shove them around said he spoke about Kurt’s old Glee Club and nationals and the opportunities that Kurt’s school would provide him with, including being top of his class without much work and main lead vocal of a winning choir that was not acapella and thus would allow him to shine more.”

“Because they were jealous.”

David rolled his eyes and his whole head.  “I forgot how much of a Blaine worshiper you were and how all your brains leak out your skull when he comes up or is nearby.  Is he good, Wes?  There has to be some reason you are so up his ass!” David asked.

Wes nearly flew at him with the intent to hit him when the guy with David grabbed his arm.

Kurt watched the whole bit with wide eyes.  Suddenly a lot of Warbler things made a whole lot more sense, like why the talk always seemed to not quite match the actions. And why although a great deal of the school worshiped the ground the boys walked on, there was a substantial subsection that did not and who Blaine kept Kurt away from very aggressively.

“Don’t forget, Wes,” the other guy said in an accented voice that Kurt couldn’t quite place. “I learned a lot the year I spent working for the headmaster while we figured out finances for my third year of University. I watched you let that boy cheat off you his full first year. You handed him papers you had done and walked him through changing them just enough. You gave him solos over everyone else every time he hinted he wanted one.  You let him pick the music, even though his choices took us out of competition. David might have guessed you favored the boy…but I know and have proof.”

“How dare you Ravi!” Wes yelled. “Besides the reason you had financial issues was because your family was caught laundering money.”

“An uncle through my great great great grandfather was laundering money. It just took a year to prove we had nothing to do with him and hadn’t for decades.”

“So, it soiled your name. You have no room to speak or nothing to say!”

“You forget, Wes.  The Warblers existed before you and our gatherings and traditions existed before you and even with the taint that has befallen them…taint attached to YOU and YOUR family…they will exist long after you die!”

“We were going to make them great!” Wes said.  “Bring glory to Dalton again.”

“They are no longer on the show choir circuit. And we were great.  MY sophomore year we took nationals at acapella, when it was a true acapella group. They will be again.  We have instructors taking over who will not let the chaos you and your kin introduced during your years on the council remain. When things have been restored, the council will be brought back.”

“Yes, well….none of this has anything to do with right now. And I don’t see why we are arguing about this again David.” Wes said, leaning back into a sullen stance with his arms crossed over his chest.

David sighed. “We will argue this every time it comes up until you acknowledge what you have done, Wes. I understand the whole ‘legacy’ issue, but your family abused it and used your godfather’s appointment as Head of Student Activities to run rampant over everyone else.  You cost other members their legacy appointments to the council, Wes.  You all obstructed the traditions of the council and the Warblers.”

“My Godfather promised my Grandfather that all of us would hold our rightful places for a long as we wanted.  Father and Uncle Lawrence just made sure of it.  They all resented that they could only claim one year of council. Grandfather doesn’t care if other legacy children lost out.  None are as important as we are.” Wes said.

Ravi chuckled. “Your godfather has lost his position as head and is now coordinator of intermural sports. Your younger cousins and younger brother will not be on a Warbler council, either.  Your junior year, a young man came and requested a council voice, do you recall? The first year Blaine was there?”

“Yes, blond kid. Didn’t want to claim his spot yet, which he insisted he should have without anything to back that insistence up, but wanted a council voice on song choice.” Wes said.

“Yes.  Edgar Dalton.  You refused and instead gave Blaine input.  Blaine bragged about it.  Edgar stopped attending meetings and then moved schools during winter break. Your insult was excused, as Edgar believed the tradition of a single year of council membership was being observed and as he hadn’t forcefully explained who he was.  The next year, when you were still on the council, his father brought up issues and started a search to find other insults and aggravations. Your godfather’s introduction and backing of Hunter was his last mistake. Dalton wanted him roasted, but the Headmaster and Board decided quiet removal of power was better. Your family was important due to funding and legacy, but no more really than many others. They should have remembered that.”

Wes growled. David snorted.

“I can’t believe you would support those people over me, David. Your best friend!” Wes shouted.

“Yes, best friend…who didn’t speak with me after I told you to make a new council appointment when Blaine skipped out for over a year.  I connected with Ravi and others at Yale, like I was told to when I graduated from Dalton and found out a lot that we had lost.  Much of which I was sad we had missed out on.”

“We thought it unnecessary for our goals, David.” Wes said.

“Goals never shared with the rest of the Warblers or your fellow council members. Shall we get back to the topic? Are we agreed that Blaine and Kurt got engaged in March at Dalton, before Blaine graduated?”  David asked.

Wes huffed. “Since it seems half the guys knew about it, then I guess. But I didn’t know about it and am still not sure it really happened.  They could have misinterpreted it.”

“But something happened and Blaine and Kurt were together again?” David said.

“Fine, Sure.”

“So…When did they break-up again? And if they are broken-up…why does Blaine live with Kurt and how in the world do you think KURT would ALLOW that?” David asked.

Wes just looked at him.

“Yeah, I thought so.” David said.

“I didn’t say you were right!” Wes said.

“But you can provide no logical answer.” David said.

“I still think there is some logical explanation and that Blaine wouldn’t do that.” Wes said.

“Well, I suggest you do the logical thing then and march on into the house and ASK Blaine the status of his and Kurt’s relationship and then figure out where Kurt is…because I don’t know about you, but Kurt’s dad will not be happy if he has to come out here to find his son and YOU have done nothing and I for one want to have some sort of answers for him.” David said.

“Kurt’s dad isn’t very wealthy and is in Ohio. Why should it matter?” Wes said.

Ravi started to laugh and David took a huge breath and sighed.

“Kurt’s last name is Hummel. Like…Burt Hummel?” David said.

“And?” Wes said.

“And you are fucking flunking all your courses, aren’t you?  Or did you switch majors?” David yelled.

“I don’t see why you are yelling again, David.” Wes snapped.

“Congressman Burt Hummel?” David said.

“Don’t be silly,” Wes said. “That is not Kurt’s dad.  He was something like a plumber or electrician or something.”

Kurt smothered another laugh as David started to slowly slam his head against the top of his car.

“Like a mechanic, possibly?” Ravi asked.

“Yeah!”

“Like Congressman Burt Hummel is?” Ravi asked.

“Is he?” Wes asked.

“Yes.” Ravi said.

“Oh. Ok…fine. Let’s go inside and figure out what is up and see what we need to do and like maybe talk to people more and like build a time line?  But stop picking on me!  You can’t treat me like this in front of the others.  It is just not right and it’s not fair.”

“Fine.” David said.

“We’ll see.” Ravi added.

David popped the trunk and Ravi went and grabbed a large duffle bag from within.  Then they all headed to the house.  Kurt moved forward a little bit farther and could see that most people still up seemed to be in the large dining area that was off the kitchen. He figured the others were probably asleep.  He moved across the yard to the side of the house and then snuck towards the back.  No one was out at the hot tubs. Kurt ducked into the pool house, which was also blissfully empty. He showered and did his night routine.

He made it back to his camp without notice.  His sleep was not nearly as restful as it had been the nights before, but he finally settled into a deep sleep.

It was late when he got up.   It was nearly 10am.  Kurt grumbled, but went about getting ready for the day at the camp.  There was no way he could get to the pool house for a shower without being noticed that late in the morning. He ate breakfast; fruit and yogurt and a granola bar he crushed up on top.  Kurt pulled out his laptop and checked his email. He had a note from the school saying his registration was official and a note from Carole saying she’d marked his days off and would figure out a time for them to visit and for him to visit and to have fun being lost. No one else had emailed him. He decided not to deal with Facebook or any other social media site.

He gathered the last of the cheeses and the last of the breads and bagels, some fruit and trail mixes and two bottles of water for his lunch and then set out into the woods with the camera to take more pictures.  If a great deal of his late morning adventure took place near the edge by the yard of Wes’ place, it was surely a coincidence. Really.

He found wildflowers he hadn’t seen yet that he got pictures of and some cool close up of trees and bark and strange knots and light filtering through leaves.  He took close-ups of as many different mushrooms as he could find, thinking of trying to use photo shop to make himself a woodland elf…or maybe a fairy.  He took photos of the few moths he saw; surprised any were out yet at all. Finally he found a little tiny clearing where he could see and hear what was going on in Wes’ yard and settled down to eat …and spy.

Again his luck held. Jeff drove up as he was eating his banana.

“Where’s Kurt?” He yelled as he got out of the car.

David came out of the garage, holding a clipboard.  “Where’s Nick? What time did Nick first call?”

“Nick left about an hour and half before I did, but he had errands to run.  He’ll probably be about another half hour. Nick called Blaine Sunday night about 8pm.  Kurt had said something about a place he works that has singing waiters and Nick’s mom said since her vacation was being cut short, she was bringing some of her girlfriends back with her and wanted fun things to do that were not the usual. Nick wanted more info about that place.  Where’s Kurt?”

“I am trying to format a timeline.  It is nearly impossible.  Would Kurt ever ride a dirt bike?” David asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Jeff said.

David nodded as he marked something down.

“I think he left when he said he was going to go lay down.  You guys left right after that. Someone might have talked to him Sunday night, but they aren’t certain.  It doesn’t help that it was one of Wes’ friends from university and it was dark and everyone is stupid because when he described the boy he talked to they all insisted it couldn’t be Kurt because the guy’s hair wasn’t all fancy. If Kurt had hidden somewhere I doubt he was doing his hair all that much.” David said.

“He left Saturday?”

“However if Wes’ friend saw him and if it was indeed Kurt Rocko talked to, then he was seen Sunday night and Monday morning.”

“Still,” Jeff said. “That is a whole two days without contact!”

“Wes thinks Blaine and Edwin are dating.” David said.

“Kurt and Blaine are engaged.” Jeff said.

David nodded.

“Blaine didn’t go to the shooting range with us.  He stayed here with Edwin and Ricky and their shadow.  Kurt left the range early to come back and check on him.  Blaine cheated on Kurt less than a month after Kurt left for New York.  That was the reason they broke up.  If Kurt walked in on something, he’ll be devastated.” Jeff said.

David nodded.  “I spent the evening and morning watching Blaine. He is doing something with Edwin and maybe even with Ricky and Chez.”

“Shit.” Jeff said. “Have you asked Richards if he saw anything unusual?”

David’s head snapped towards Jeff. “No….and Kurt would be someone who would speak to him.  Let’s go.  We haven’t really searched the house either.  Ravi and I got in past midnight and have had a hard time getting anyone even moving this morning.  Lunch is breakfast.  Seriously no one was even awake other than Ravi and I until half past 10 and Wes said we couldn’t fuss around and look about until everyone was up.”

“What do you expect, they are all camping.” Jeff said. “Hmm…has anyone asked Blaine what he explained about camping here to Kurt?”

“No.” David said. “Wes wouldn’t let us disturb him and he did not come out of the room he was in with Ricky and Edwin and Chaz until about 10 minutes before you got here. He was ‘too upset’ over the big fight last night.”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Let’s go do those two things. Nick is going to want some solid answers when he gets here and as stressed as he has been the last week, I suggest we have something.”

Jeff and David walked back to the house and Kurt moved back to his camp.  He left his electronics tucked away and pulled out his book.  He sat in his deluxe camp chair and put his feet up. If his peace was going to crumble, he was going to get the most use of it he could.  He did start timing.  It took another 40 minutes before Nick got to the house, and Kurt, even as far into the woods as he was, heard the ruckus.  He couldn’t hear the words but he could hear the sound and tell it was an angry sound.   The wall of noise lasted only about five minutes. Kurt walked over to his drink cooler and pulled out one of the specialty sodas and settled back into his chair to wait on being found.  He just hadn’t decided if he was going to answer when he first heard voices or wait till they came pretty much to him.

In the end the calling of his name didn’t start until he could hear voices.  He heard the arguing first, in fact.

“I can’t believe it took you all so long to ask the butler dude.” A voice that sounded familiar but Kurt couldn’t quite place said.  “I’m pretty sure Kurt said he met Blaine at a posh private school with great academics.”

Kurt was trying to figure out who he knew that he wasn’t expecting to be around here that he’d talked about Dalton who might possibly bother to show up to find him.

“Well, we never claimed what Kurt would call street smarts,” Jeff said.

“Mostly Kurt would say we all lacked logic as well.” Nick added dryly.

“Yes, well I would have to agree, at least for half the guys I’ve met so far.” The voice Kurt hadn’t placed quite yet said.  Then the voice shouted and Kurt could hear it more clearly.

“Kurt!  Kurt!”

“It’s Elliot!” Kurt said out loud, jumping up from his chair and putting his book on the table as he passed it on the way to the game trail leading out of the clearing and to the main trails.

“Kurt!” Jeff and Nick joined with Elliot in shouting.  Kurt could see them coming around the bend to the section of the trail where the game trails branched off.  

“Elliot!” Kurt shouted back, waving his arms so the guys could see him at the edge of the trail where his path broke off at.  

Elliot broke into a run and swept Kurt into a hug, while Nick hurried over as well. Jeff followed a bit more slowly, on his cell phone.

“David said he’s glad you’re located and he’ll tell Richards.  He hadn’t decided if he’s telling Wes yet.  I think he is starting to enjoy the panic Wes is getting in as Richards reminded him that if you aren’t found by tonight they’ll have to call his parents and inform them a kid went missing on the property.”

Kurt chuckled. “Come on back.”

Kurt led them down his little path into his campsite.

Nick started laughing.

Elliot joined in.

“What’s funny?” Kurt asked.

“I told them that you’d have no problem camping, but that you’d also have it set up as nice as a hotel room.” Elliot said.

“Your camp chair has the ability to be a recliner!” Jeff said.

“You’ve been cooking out here?” Nick asked, poking around the edge of the table by the camp stove and peeking into coolers.  

“Yes.”

“Haven’t you got bored?” Jeff asked.

Kurt shrugged. “Not really. I have been reading some novels I’d hoped to read during dead week, I’ve been out hiking and taking photos and making sketches. I have my IPod, and cell phone with games, and my laptop with movies and internet. I have been up to the house every day except today, twice a day pretty much. I would not have been good company.”

“So, I’ve got to know,” Nick asked.  “Did you take out the dirt bike?”

“Yes!  That was so much fun.  When I called my dad yesterday I apologized to him.  He wanted to buy me one when little and I always said no.” Kurt said.

“Wes owes us 20 bucks a piece.” Jeff said.

“Why wouldn’t you have been good company?” Elliot asked.  He’d been looking around the camp site, peeking into the tent and flipping through the sketch book Kurt had had sitting on the table.

“I walked in on Blaine being fucked by one of his pals.” Kurt said.  “I know if I have to look at him, I will not be able to keep the scathing lecture I desire to unleash upon his being to myself and I have decided that it is best delivered a bit more private than in front of several dozen other guys whom Blaine desires to maintain a good image with.”

“Oh, Kurt.” Elliot said softly. Elliot held out his arms and Kurt rushed into them.

Jeff and Nick wandered around the campsite pretending to look at things in detail while Kurt cried in Elliot’s arms.

Kurt’s tears weren’t as long lasting as any of the other expected.  He removed himself from Elliot’s hug and wiped his face with his sleeve, before apologizing to everyone.

Jeff and Nick just shrugged.

“So,” Kurt said. “I suppose I have to be found.”

Jeff looked at Nick who tilted his head in thought. “Found yes, but I don’t know if that means you have to come back to the house…” Nick started.

“I mean,” Jeff continued. “At least not to stay.  I know David would be really glad to see you and he really wants you to meet some of the other’s up there.  Ravi, in particular seems to be highly interested in you.  And I think Rocko would like to formally meet you as well.”

“Rocko?” Kurt asked.

“Yeah, the guy you apparently talked to about the dirt bikes.” Nick said.

“But Rocko?”  Kurt asked.  ‘That just so does not sound like a name from Dalton.”

Jeff laughed. “Oh my God, I forgot you missed Rocko’s years there.  He graduated the year before you got there. But you are right.  We were actually penalized for use of Rocko’s first name.  Everyone was commanded to call him Mr. Rochester.”

“His name is Rocko Rochester?”

“Rocko Rude Rochester. The headmaster couldn’t handle people calling him by his middle name either.” Nick added.

Kurt shook his head. “What were his parents thinking?”

“His folks are rich, not smart.” Nick said.  “They named his sister Bunny Muffin.”

“Anyway, as long as you came up to the house a few times a day and maybe sleep up at the house and were seen you could maybe be allowed to stay out here for the most part.” Jeff said.

“I’m fine out here for sleeping.” Kurt said.  “It’s actually quite comfortable.”

Kurt walked the three over to the tent and unzipped the door.

“The air mattress in the one Sam slept on at the loft, so Blaine has slept on it several nights when he opted to stay out with Sam instead of with me. Blaine is not one to forgo his creature comforts, as I’m sure you all know.  I have plenty of covers and pillows.  I have plenty of food, in fact I haven’t even broke out the camp food yet.  I have books and my laptop has movies and games uploaded to it.  I even had card and board games to bring, but I left those in the SUV when I realized it was going to be just me out here.”

“I could stay out here, too.” Elliot added. “I mean I will need a ride back to the City at some point and I didn’t plan on making anyone take me back until the weekend.  I know Blaine would be much happier if I were not up at the house.  So, Kurt wouldn’t be alone.”

“And we could bring camp chairs out here from the house.  There were tons more tucked in the garage and I have three more in the SUV, another one like the one out here and then two basic ones like the one by the table in case we had to hike to the camp spot too far. They are lighter. People who wanted to could come out here and hang.” Kurt added.  “I mean, we could certainly bring anyone actually worried out here to see the set up.  They could make certain themselves.  I just….I don’t really want to be up at the house around Blaine for long periods.”

Nick and Jeff nodded. “At least come to the house and talk to David.  I would say talk to Wes, but he’s being an ass.  I’d think David would probably see your point.” Jeff said.

“I bet no one would argue with you staying out here if you can convince Richards you are safe and well.” Nick added.  “If he knew exactly where you were at, any legal type issues would probably be covered as well, you know, in case any of the other guys like called their folks or something.”

Kurt sighed and rubbed his forehead. He really didn’t want to spend too much time anywhere where Blaine might be. “Fine. Let’s go now.”

Elliot walked over to Kurt and draped his arm over his shoulder. “Isn’t there anyone up there you’d like to see?”

“I guess Conner is still there, and I did want to spend more time with Nick and Jeff.” Kurt said. “Let me grab my phone and put things away.”

Kurt put his book and all his art materials away in the tent.  He grabbed his phone and his soda.

“So, I heard there is an epic music room up at the house.” Elliot said as the guys all headed back to the main trail. “We could give them all a little show.”

Kurt chuckled. “Elliot, pretty much every guy in that house sung with the Warblers at some point.  We could try to give them a show but they would join in.  Seriously…these guys…they could just stop a whole school for performances.  No one fussed!  It was magical to me.”

“Those were the ones who sang A Capella, right?” Elliot asked.

“Yes.”

“Yes!  We need to find the beatbox…I have something I’ve always wanted to try.”

“You have your pick,” Nick said.  “There should be three at the house.  There are some non-warblers at the house though, like Conner and Felix. And a few friends from different universities that aren’t even associated with Dalton. Not everyone will butt in on your jam session.”

“But enough will.” Kurt said. “Although, not many will try to take lead…so we are more likely to end up with background music than fighting for the front and center spots, especially if it is obvious we are just trying things out and not practicing for something that lots of people will be watching. Hmm…remind me to call my dad when we get back to the house.”

“So, I know you know Nick and Jeff here, and from what they have said you know the Wes kid whose family owns this place and David…who I think was one of the guys who we met out front?”  Elliot said, looking to Jeff.  “And of course Blaine.  Who else do you know?”

“Yes, David was the African- American who met us out front.  He was with Ravi, who Kurt doesn’t know.  Ravi graduated a few years before Kurt was there. Wes hasn’t ever liked him because Ravi made it into the Warblers as a first semester freshman and was front man for two years. Wes didn’t make it in until the end of his freshman year and all he heard was about how Ravi made it as a first semester freshman and his making it as a freshman wasn’t that big of a deal.  Of course Wes made it in just to be immediately put on the council and started putting in a dozen or so freshman a year so we wouldn’t have such a hard time keeping numbers and training singers so…” Jeff trailed off and Kurt answered.

“Hmm…I know Conner and I’d seen his boyfriend at the school, but never met him.  He was the same year as Blaine and not into music much. I think that one dark haired baritone that Blaine would not let me speak to at all who was in David’s and Wes’s year was there.”

“Braydon.  Blaine didn’t like him.  He thought Blaine was given too much leeway and too much focus. He also thought Wes was an idiot for not taking advantage of having a countertenor in the group. There were about four of the older guys like that.”  Nick said.

“That explains a lot.” Kurt said. “I always wondered why Blaine would not let me near some of the guys. Heck, Thad was seriously the only one my age I was ever introduced to and he did a good job of making sure I didn’t meet too many other kids my age while there.  I hung around with Blaine and his crew and was handed into Wes’s care when Blaine couldn’t be with me.”

Jeff nodded. “Wes and Blaine were very proprietary about song options and so wanted to keep you and what you could do away from the others who didn’t think they should be so controlling and then there were a few who wanted to get to know you well enough to date you and Blaine hated that idea too.” Jeff added.

“Even though he didn’t want to date me?” Kurt asked.

“Oh, yes.  Blaine couched it in terms of not wanting you scared or harassed or bothered after your horrifying trials in McKinley, but most of us knew Blaine long enough that was understood it was also one of those ‘this is mine and not yours’ things.  Blaine is very possessive of his people…friends or relationships.”

“It was horrid the year before you came when he was a freshman, because he decided that Jeff was HIS friend and would not let me or Trent talk to him for about half a year, even though we’d known Jeff for years before that.” Nick said.  “I had to sneak Jeff into my room while Blaine was supposed to be doing his homework to spend any time with him!”

“We resorted to weekends at either mine or Nick’s.  In the end it worked out for the best though…Blaine was soooo mad when we got together before Valentine’s day that year and I kept answering his ‘Jeff is MY friend’ statements with ‘but I’m Nick’s lover boy’.” Jeff said.

“So his ridiculous tantrum at me wasn’t an oddity.” Elliot said.  “I don’t know if I feel better or worse knowing that.”

“No,” Kurt said. “I probably ought to have told you that long ago.”

Kurt sighed as he could see the edge of the tree line up ahead.  Elliot reached over and grabbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“It will be fine.” Elliot said.  “I’ll stick by you and if Blaine tries to start anything, I won’t let him.”

Jeff snorted. “I bet Blaine doesn’t even show.”

“He was holed up in the bedroom you two were supposed to have with Ricky, Edwin and Chez when we started out looking for you.” Nick added.

“So Chez is the dark haired one who whines?” Kurt asked.

“Oh yes.” Nick said. “He is actually your age, but he was tossed out of Dalton at the end of Blaine’s freshman year, so he wasn’t around during the time you were there.  He had a fondness for destruction…the cupboard that held half our sheet music and the loss of tons of sheet music was the final straw for him. And what got him tossed.  He was mad because some girl told him no when he asked for a date.”

“Huh.” Kurt said. “I always thought you all didn’t have to deal with that kind of thing.”

Nick shrugged. “Oh we didn’t have to deal with bullying in the physical or blatantly vocal sense, but other stuff we still had to deal with. You were actually there at a good time. We’d had a mass amount of kids thrown out the year before when they cracked down on the rules and regulations and kids refused to deal with that.  Those left knew we were being watched closely.  But the professors keeping the tight watch went off on sabbatical during that next year and so kids like Sebastian weren’t reined in so much and then you get the Hunter debacle…but the teachers keeping standards up were back and willing to do something.”

“I’m glad I was.  It was what I needed right then.  Somewhere physically safe for me to regroup.  I just ended up with way too much baggage coming out.” Kurt said. “And I really liked the classes and the school.  We just couldn’t really afford it and I missed being able to be me.  I was going NUTS in the uniform. Although I would have waited till the end of the year if we could have afforded the last quarter.”

“Blaine always said you left because you wanted to sing with your choir at nationals.” Jeff said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Part of Blaine‘s problem all together is that Blaine doesn’t listen and can’t comprehend anything outside his immediate experiences. Blaine’s family never had money problems…never had to make hard choices or  make ends meet or even just put anything on hold till the next paycheck.  We got a six month emergency scholarship because my life was considered in danger and there was enough physical proof on my body when Dad called Dalton to ask about it. It does not cover six full months of school…it covered the few weeks in November and the few weeks of December. It covered the few weeks of January, February, March and we switched the first week in April because that was when the quarter there was over and I’d not have to start a few new classes and then be pulled out when the emergency scholarship was up.  That scholarship waived two thirds of Dalton’s fee.  With having to buy a new house and my dad’s medical fees and him not being able to work as much in the garage as he had before his heart attack earlier in that fall…we just could not afford it.  I wasn’t even sure I’d be allowed to sing with the New Directions at Nationals since I hadn’t sung in any of the qualifiers, but I was hoping to be able to. I said I hoped to be able to sing with my friends again and join the club again, yes. But I said all that after telling him over and over about the financial worries and my doubt we’d be able to pull off fees till the end of the school year.  That bit about hoping to sing with the New Directions again was all Blaine heard.”

 Nick nodded. “He does have issues with hearing what is really being said and comprehending past what he wants to have been said.”

 “And it doesn’t help that for the two years he was at Dalton, he was never expected to have to do anything other than that.” Jeff said.

 Kurt snorted. “McKinley really didn’t make him have to listen to others either.  He was still able to just do what he wanted and hear what he wanted and pretty much get everything handed to him on a silver platter.”

 Kurt stopped as they hit the start of the trail into the woods and just stared for a few minutes at the house before sighing so hard that Elliot felt it and Jeff and Nick heard it from the few steps they were ahead.  Elliot reached over and grabbed the soda from Kurt’s hand and grabbed the hand that had held the soda.

 “Have I mentioned how ridiculous I find you all’s definition of camping?” Kurt said.

 “No and I advise not doing so to the masses…they get cranky.” Nick said.  

 Kurt laughed and the tension eased out of him a bit. Jeff smiled and turned to Elliot.

 “So what song did you want a beat-box for?”  Jeff asked.

 “Beatle’s Come Together…right now.  I’ve been thinking about it for ages.”

Kurt smiled. “Oh…that would be good.  If we get the band back together we should consider theme nights.  Beatles would be great…avoiding certain songs of course.  I used to sing a mean Blackbird.”

 “What songs would we avoid?” Elliot asked.

 “All You Need is Love is Forever Ruined.” Kurt said. “Got To Get You Into My Life might be as well, although I still have an insane desire to sing it in public ALL BY MYSELF!”

 “Is that what he serenaded you with at that proposal?” Elliot asked.

 “ All You Need Is Love? Yes.”

 “That is too bad…but there are plenty of other Beatles songs which I think would fit us better anyway,” Elliot replied. “I would love to hear you sing Imagine and Hey Jude and we could have fun with Yellow Submarine.”

 Kurt beamed. “And we have never done a real Madonna night. We’ll have to make some lists.”

 David was waiting for them as the cleared the woods.

 Kurt was pulled into a hug and patted down before he could say anything, even ‘Hi’.

 “God, I am so sorry I didn’t even realize you were missing. I was fighting with Felix all Sunday and that always distracts me and at odds with Wes and then I left on Monday to pick up Ravi and I was just a horrid friend and…” David babbled as he patted Kurt down.

 “David, I am fine.” Kurt said. ”No bumps or bruises or anything…all body parts accounted for. Who is Felix and why were you fighting?”

 “Oh, God.  I forgot to introduce you to Felix.  And I’ve got to introduce you to Ravi…but word of warning now, he like worships your dad. You will be drilled.”

 Elliot chuckled.

 David looked at Elliot. “Who are you?”

 Nick and Jeff laughed.

 “This is Elliot Gilbert. He messaged Nick the moment he saw Kurt was lost with a phone number to call and demanded one of us drive him up here.” Jeff said.

 Kurt smiled.

 “I’m surprised you didn’t have to bring Dani as well.” Kurt said.

 “Dani is in Minneapolis at a roller derby exposition or she would have been tagging along. I was at a Yoga training retreat but made it to the city before these guys left.” Elliot said.

 “Dani?” David asked.

 “She is the other member of my band.” Kurt said. “By the way, where are our beat boxers this weekend? Elliot wants to try something.”

 “You have a band? We so need to talk.  I’m David.  I knew Kurt when he was a wee little junior who’d been chased from his school by bullying.”

 “He started it a little over a year ago…right after he started work at the diner.” Elliot said.

 “About three weeks after I got engaged to Blaine and two after Finn died.” Kurt said.

 “Finn died?” David nearly shouted.

 “I thought you knew that?” Kurt said. “Blaine was in contact with the Warblers at that time. He set up the engagement just the week before.”

 “Yeah, he promptly ignored everyone as soon as they sung to you except Trent and one of Hunter’s little friends who was close to Edwin.” Nick said.  “He even stopped talking to Sebastian and he called Sebastian every single day from the moment you left to the moment he convinced the Warblers to allow him back to Dalton to propose, even though he’d help ruin them. However, Sebastian heard from his dad. We sent flowers and put together a small fund which we sent to your dad at the end of the school year to help with whatever he thought it should.”

 Kurt smiled.  “I remember him saying something about that. I just wasn’t aware you Dalton boys were who he was talking about.  He called you the bird boys.  It makes sense now.  I suppose we ought to head in and at least reassure Richards I am fine.  Let him see it and not just hear it.”

 “He’ll be easy.” David said.  “I mean he was worried but not frantic. Conner…well, I’m sure the only reason he wasn’t out searching is because he got a concussion in the fight over you being missing and hasn’t been able to talk his boy into letting him off the couch until he stops throwing up if he moves to fast.”

 “Conner has a concussion?” Kurt asked.

 “Yes.  He was way furious because apparently Blaine told him you were too busy to talk to him and it was too dangerous for him to talk to you and besides you didn’t like him anymore and so he shouldn’t be potentially damaging his relationship trying to talk with you.”

 “Of course he did.” Kurt said. “Still, I’d like to apologize to Richards first.”

 “He’s been in the Kitchen since the fight.  I think he doesn’t trust us enough to go far anymore.”

 “Geez, I wonder why?” Nick commented.

 “This week has been way worse than spring break the year Kurt was at Dalton.” Jeff said.

 “Hmm, you think?  I mean six girls got pregnant and half the people here had to get tested for STDs for the next year, several needing treatment.”

 “What?!” Kurt shouted.

 “Wes didn’t check before we all headed out here and his cousin Juliette had also decided to use the lodge…anyway, we decided to share…more or less successfully.”  David said.  “That’s why Blaine couldn’t watch your Born This Way performance.  He was up here camping with us. We left pretty much right after we sang at your school.  Anyway, so Juliette was out here with like 20 girls from her boarding school and Wes pulled all us Warblers up and brought up several old Warblers and several guys from the soccer team and polo team and well…I think there were four babies that ended up born.  Luckily no warblers were the daddies.”

 “Ah.  I thought he went somewhere with his folks for Spring Break.” Kurt said.

 “He spent the last three days in New York with them…they went to a few shows and shopping.  He had Wes drive him down so they didn’t come up and find out we were with girls all week.”  

 Kurt rolled his eyes.

 “You guys are ruining my image of private school boys.” Elliot said.

 “You thought they were all sweet and innocent didn’t you?” Kurt asked.

 “Well, mostly.” Elliot admitted. “Especially like the prep school type and not the catholic or religious school type.”

 “Oh God.  I never even thought about that option.” Kurt said. “Hopefully my dad never did either. At that point of my life I would not have been able to cope.  I would have run away or killed myself.  I could NOT have done a religious school and my dad would not have been aware of that at that point because we had not yet discussed what had gone on while he was in a coma after his heart attack.”

 “Wait, I thought you were at Dalton due to bullying?” David asked as they entered into the kitchen.

 “I was.  The bullying changed during the summer…or near the end of the school year before, because they were some instances even then. Anyway, so instead of dumpster tosses, probably because I was too tall for them to be easy…I started being pushed more and pushed harder. Of course the slushies never stopped.  Then my dad had a heart attack right after Labor Day. And that same week the glee club went off on a religious rampage and spent most of the next little while telling me I was horrid and wrong for not believing in God…and no one DID anything to help. I stayed at home, with no one there, made all my own food and did all the chores, took over work at the garage so the others wouldn’t be too overwhelmed, went to school and did all my homework, and was the only one who really spent any time at the hospital…and was still bullied by the regular bullies every day. And the stupid glee club just harped on and on about praying fixing things and god fixing things…like prayer or god was going to make sure the paychecks got out on time or finish the rebuild on Martin Lewis’s 68 convertible that Dad was almost done with or fix dinner or do the dishes or patch up the gash where I caught the open locker while falling after Nelson pushed me, let alone be what actually helped with my dad.  Although I ended up at my friend Mercedes church, mostly so she would stop ignoring me and so people would stop telling me I wasn’t trying to work with them all, I came out of the whole experience even more jaded against religion than I started.  And in the weeks after my dad waking up, when I was the one caring for him all afternoon and evening and still keeping everything else going, the in school bullying shot up significantly, with Finn and others in glee club adding to it even though theirs wasn’t physical mostly.  And at home wasn’t better. Finn and Carole had dad’s ears then, even though they spent like NO TIME at the house helping out. Everything exploded that first week of November and the death threats started and my dad found out about some of it and I ended up at Dalton when the guy threatening me didn’t stay expelled.  I even was able to board for that first bit of time I was at Dalton, which ended up a godsend because My dad had just married Carole and so Finn moved in again but they hadn’t found a new house yet, so Finn and I were supposed to share a room but Finn couldn’t handle it any better than the first time we tried. With me in Dalton, Carole was able to get dad to have me just come home during Thanksgiving and Winter Break and stay at the dorms most the rest of the weekends. We couldn’t afford boarding after the semester started again though, so I drove to Dalton every day. But by then we had moved so Finn and I didn’t have to share.  Heck, our rooms weren’t even on the same level of the house.  Why is everyone staring at me?”

 Jeff wrapped an arm around Kurt. “We just didn’t realize everything you had going on.  I mean Wes and David knew a little about the bullying and I knew after that first PE class that the bullying had had a physical side because you were still all bruised. But I don’t think anyone knew about all the rest.”

 “In fact Blaine insisted it wasn’t really physical at all, but a sexual assault that you were getting away from.  That was why he wouldn’t let certain guys near you.” Nick said.

 Kurt tilted his head. “Hmm, I guess the inciting incident was. One of the Jock bullies kissed me after pushing me, and then he threatened to kill me if I told anyone.”

 Elliot wrapped Kurt in a hug and squeezed.

 “Elliot, I need to breathe.” Kurt squeaked.

 “Sorry, can’t let go.”

 “I’m fine now.  In fact, most everything surrounding that time is OK.  Things were hashed out in the family, with the main bully, even within glee club to a certain extent.  I just still am not big on religion.  Didn’t gain any more liking for it when my dad had cancer, or when Finn died, or when I was bashed.  Nor did it call for me when Blaine cheated the first time or at any point when living with Rachel. In fact, Rachel sort of put me off Judaism as well as Christianity. Elliot, don’t squeeze harder.”

 A deep chuckling came from behind the guys.

 “So YOU are the one missing?” Richards asked.

 Kurt detangled himself from Elliot’s arms. “I am so sorry. I didn’t think at all about the situation this would put you. I just could not be around a certain someone without losing it.  I should have at least like….told you what I was planning or something, though. I mean it’s like the first rule of going out someplace….let someone know where you are and when you should be back and how to be contacted. Like, seriously. I could have left a note or something.  So I am so sorry and I promise if you don’t make me stay up here, I’ll take you out and show you where I’m camped and you can even check for yourself that it is safe and fine and whatnot.”

 “You left the hotdogs and ground beef?” Richards asked.

 “Yes, but I swiped some stuff in exchange.” Kurt said.

 “You came in for breakfast and washed your dishes and left them in the drainer?”

 “Yes.  Except this morning.”

 “Yes, you probably should have left a note, but how old are you?” Richards asked.

 “20, almost 21.”

 “So in your third year of university?”

 “Second, I was held back in elementary the year my mom died, I missed too much school and my dad wasn’t willing to fight the decision.”

 “Still…you are an adult. The only reason you needed to let anyone know was because you were at someone else’s place and there could have been issues if something was really wrong.  But, I understand. I still don’t understand where you got the camping gear. We don’t have any here.”

 “I thought we were going camping.  I was put in charge of all the stuff and he said he’d set up the place. MY version of camping has a tent…I came with the camping gear.  The version these guys run off is NUTS, no offence.” Kurt said.

 Richards chuckled. “I would like to see everyone up at the house at least once a day…just write a note to let me know you stopped by.”

 Kurt nodded.  “So I can stay out at the camp?  It is in that little clearing about 10 minutes out.”

 Richards nodded. “It is still inside the property so I don’t think there will be a problem. However if you were out in a tent, I need to figure out who has been holed away up in the loft in the pool house.  I thought that was you.”

 “Oh, I know that one!” Jeff said.  “Caleb Andrews.  He came out with Felix but needed to finish some papers before he could have fun. Nick told him about the loft Friday night after he kept getting interrupted in the library. He was out with us for most the time Saturday, at least.”

 “So are we good?” Elliot asked. “Because I need to find some beat boxers.”

 Richards nodded. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour; it would be nice to be here for it so everyone can see you are found.”

 Kurt nodded. “Let’s go find you some beat boxers.  And go see Conner.  And who the hell is Felix!”

 David yelped. “I’ve got to introduce you to Felix!”

 Kurt waved as he was drug through the kitchen deeper into the house.  He settled next to Conner on the couch and told Conner all about his set up in the woods, which he and Jake wanted to see, as soon as Conner could stand without feeling sick. He brushed of Kurt’s worry, mostly because he assured Kurt he had been to the ER nearby and they assured him that he’d be fine in a day or two.

 David and a boy who looked very much his double came barreling in from one side of the room while Elliot and several guys came chasing in with Jeff and Nick from the other.

 “I’ve got Felix!” shouted David at the same time as Jeff shouted “We got beat boxers!”

 “Ok. First, Felix.” Kurt said.

 David smirked at the other guys and pulled his double next to him. “Kurt, this is Felix.  He’s my little brother and he went to Dalton with us, but he was in Europe on an exchange program for the whole time you were at Dalton, which wasn’t fair!  He’d have been in your grade!”

 “Felix, nice to meet you. Were you a Warbler?” Kurt asked.

 “I do not sing.  I like acting, though. I participated in academic decathlon and debate and speech competitions. And BPA and the young astronauts program.”

 “Oh, I wish you had been there when I was then, I know you could have helped with some of my classes that I had issues in.  I was generally behind in sciences, mostly because McKinley doesn’t teach science well, at all. I think I ended up talking to David and Trent.”

 “He was good once he understood what concepts he was missing and we liked helping Kurt because he caught on quick and never wanted us to DO the work for him, just explain what he was getting wrong.” David said.

 Felix smiled. “I would have been glad to help you then.  I am not fond of helping some people.  They think helping means doing it for them.  I do not approve.”

 Kurt nodded. “My step brother was that way. Nearly cause World War III at our house when that issue came up. He thought it unfair that I wouldn’t do his work for him.”

 Before the conversation could go farther, another guy came chasing into the room.

 Kurt recognized him from the night he spied on David.

 “Kurt Hummel?” the guy asked, his hand extended for a handshake. “I’m Ravi, Ravi Patil. I am a huge fan of your father’s.  I saw him speak once.  He was brilliant, so down to earth.”

 “It’s nice to meet you.” Kurt said, shaking Ravi’s hand. “I do rather adore him. OH! I had better call him and tell him I’m found!”

 Kurt pulled out his phone and dialed his dad.

 The call wasn’t long but long enough for Kurt to wish he’d done it while alone.   He thought Ravi was going to melt into a puddle of awe struck goo when his dad said to tell him hello and his was thrilled the young man had enjoyed his speech.

 Luckily Jeff and Nick thought it was as funny as Kurt did.  Elliot was confused and then swatted Kurt upside the head.

 “You could have mentioned your dad was a congressman.” Elliot said.

 “I’ve told you about my dad.” Kurt insisted.

 “Yeah, he owns and runs a garage in Lima, Ohio and is often away from home.” Elliot said. “He likes Melencamp and wears ball caps. And he was one of your biggest supporters in school, but you often didn’t let him know what was going on.”

 “Oh….umm sorry. I just don’t often remember it myself. I mean, he didn’t start doing a whole lot in Washington until January my senior year and so sometimes I forget.” Kurt said. “I just think of him at home in Lima.”

 “That makes sense.” One of the guys Kurt wasn’t sure he knew said. “My folks travel a lot and I usually only think of them at the home I grew up in, even though they are rarely there anymore.  Jonas, beatboxer.  Who wanted us?”

 “Elliot wants to try out some songs.” Kurt said.

 “Beatles. Come Together.” Elliot said. “To start with.”

 “Oh. Yes.” Jonas said. “Paul, do you have the Beatles version on your iPod?”

 “Of Course.” Paul answered.  “That will be easy, too.”

 “Kurt, front man or background vocals?” Elliot asked.

 “Backing in this. I know it. Go work up the vocals needed and then come get me when you need to add me.” Kurt said.  “I’m going to chat with some of the others for a bit. I would like to try Hey Jude or Imagine though.”

 “And we should totally have a reshow of Blackbird.” Jeff said.

 “I’ll consider it.” Kurt said. “I am on the edge of that being one of those ruined songs.  It was well done though, so…”

 “Take that one back.” Nick said. “You sang it stunningly. Don’t let Blaine lay claim to that.”

 Kurt smiled. “Fine. I’ll sing Blackbird as well, and decide then.”

 Elliot and about eight guys huddled in a corner of the music room, by the piano, and worked out music. Kurt could tell by the excited look on Elliot’s face that he was learning a lot from several of the guys.

 Kurt talked with Conner and Jake, David and Felix and Ravi.  Nick and Jeff wandered between the two groups, depending on what topics were being talked about in the group of boys surrounding Kurt. Other guys wandered in and joined with the two groups.  Kurt said hi to Braydon and met several others who he recognized from classes but never really interacted with.  They were talking clubs and sports differences in public and private school systems when Wes wandered in, followed by Blaine and his stooges.  Blaine, whose hand was encased in Edwin’s and who had bite marks covering his neck, was giggling and simpering as Ricky whispered something in his ear.

 “I thought you all were out looking for Kurt.” Wes said, glaring at David. Kurt nearly laughed as Wes’s gaze passed right over him, like he’d forgotten how Kurt looked.  

 Kurt snorted. “I’ve been located, Wes. I was camping.”

 “Camping?  Were you in the loft?  I haven’t seen you out in the hot tubs?” Wes said.

 “Camping.  You know…tent, sleeping bag, communing with nature? Hikes?” Kurt said.

 “Don’t be ridiculous.” Blaine said, looking at Kurt for the first time since entering the room.  “What would YOU know about any of that?”

 Conner growled. Kurt put his hand on his knee and Jake put his arm around him.  David kicked back, as if waiting for a show.

  Kurt turned his attention from Wes to Blaine.  He noted the hickeys on Blaine’s neck, he noted Ricky’s hands still on Blaine’s shoulder and Blaine’s hand still in Edwin’s, with his fingers running over the back of Edwin’s hand.

  “Blaine, how wonderful to see you…fully dressed and not in a compromising position, unlike last time I laid eyes on you for any length of time.” Kurt said with a sneer, that Blaine didn’t even seem to notice. “Why do you question what I know of camping?  I’m sure you remember my father. You know, the man that is supposed to be your future father-in-law. The guy you asked for my hand in marriage like I was some sort of simpering princess.  That guy.  You spent a great deal of time at my house hanging with the guys, even after I’d gone to New York. I figure you know him rather well.  Do you really think he didn’t take me camping and hunting and fishing every chance he got? I mean, sure…I worked full time at the garage most of high school, so he didn’t get me out as often as he would have liked, but you have got to be delusional if you think he didn’t take me out at least once or twice a year.”

 “You worked at the garage doing like…secretary stuff.” Blaine said.

 Kurt rolled his eyes.

 “How do you figure?” Kurt said.

 “Well, I know you SAID you worked on the cars there, but I never saw you working on cars there and you aren’t exactly…built to work on cars, you are more – you know…and whenever I saw you at the garage you were answering the phone and dressed nicely. What was I supposed to think?” Blaine said.

“You picked me up from work exactly twice, Blaine. Twice in the whole time we’ve known each other. You’ve been to the garage another three, maybe four times.  Once to tell my dad I had no idea about Sex…before you started dating me…after you basically told me I was unsexy and you had no interest. Which was very creepy mind you and which wasn’t even really true.  I probably knew more about SEX than you did at that point…just mine was more of the boy/girl nature and more of the book learning aspect and more of the view of sex from listening to girls…so lots about menstrual cycles and sore boobs and stretch marks and things like that.  Then you didn’t bother coming to the garage again until AFTER I had graduated.  Hanging with Finn and Sam was just peachy.  And then you went to ask my dad my hand in marriage.  Even after you went to McKinley for school, you couldn’t ever be bothered to come to work with me and hang out or anything, so we saw each other AFTER I was done and had gone home and showered and changed. I guess I expected you to take my word for it when I told you I worked at the garage. How would you actually KNOW anything? I certainly didn’t get receptionist pay, which you enjoyed the fruits of more often than not. I mean when it came to paying for dates and things, I certainly generally took the provider role even though I wasn’t the one from an ‘extremely wealthy’ family ---your words, not mine---with a never ending allowance. Therefore, I never expected that you thought I was LYING to you the whole time. It is utterly insane for one to assume someone is LYING about their job. Unless of course, that someone spends so much time himself lying that he assumes everyone else lies all the time…just like him.  What kinds of lies did you tell me, Blaine?  What lies have you told me that everything I know is based off of?”

Blaine just glared at Kurt and crossed his arms over his chest.  Kurt stood and walked towards Blaine and his pals.

“Shall we start with the big one right now, Blaine?  Why are we here at Wes’s place?” Kurt said.

At first Kurt wasn’t sure Blaine was going to answer.  Edwin whispered something in his ear and the Ricky leaned in and whispered something in his other ear.

“Because I wanted to come and I knew you would be awful if I just headed out for dead week without you.” Blaine said. “You would have said no just to spite me if I’d wanted to come on my own.  And the formal invite was to both of us since David sent them out.”

“See, the truth wasn’t so hard there was it.  Might have been nice to tell it to me before I spent the money I did for this week, but I’m sure you’ll find it in your oh so truthful heart to pay me back at least half, if not more.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kurt.” Blaine said.

“I’m not kidding.” Kurt said.

Blaine rolled his eyes. “We’ll discuss this later at home.  You’ll see my point after we discuss it there.”

“You mean, I’ll drop the topic after you’ve screamed at me for hours on end just so I don’t have to hear you hollering any longer? My dad already agreed you need to pay back at least half the money I put out due to lack of communication, so it is not going away as easy as you generally manage to make issues disappear.” Kurt said.  “However, I guess we could discuss it at home.  Paying me back for what I put into a trip that you lied about will work in nicely with other topics, I’m sure. Of course, I suggest we do so after you’ve done your school work that you have been slacking off on and maybe even after finals. I would hate for you to actually flunk out because you chose to go camping instead of do your work…or rather I’d hate for you to blame me for your failure when you decided to choose camping over school work. And I will make sure your professors know what you have been up to this week, make no mistake about that.”

“I can’t believe you are being so mean to Blaine! What has he ever done to you?” Chaz sneered.

Jeff and Nick snorted as David held Conner down.

It was Elliot who laughed though. “Are you kidding me?”

“And just who are you?” Ricky asked, turning towards Elliot.

“God’s sakes, why are YOU here?  Kurt, are you cheating on me?  Did you sneak HIM here to have sex with him behind my back?  How dare you?  I KNEW you were cheating on me with him. I knew it. I didn’t for one moment believe he was just a friend and band mate.  How long have you been having sex with him, huh? I can’t believe you would do this to me!” Blaine started hollering.

“Has anyone ever had you tested for personality disorders?” Elliot shouted back.  “You are delusional and a hypocrite.”

“I am not! I know you’ve fucked him. I know it.  You wouldn’t accept my friend request on Facebook or any other social site and you were always calling. I can’t figure out why you want him more than me, but I know you’ve had sex with him and he is cheating with you.” Blaine continued. “And I’m NOT a hypocrite. I’m not wearing the ring; he is, so that makes him mine.  I can do whatever I like, he cannot. I asked for HIS hand in marriage, he didn’t ask for mine.  I’m the alpha male and so I can sow my seed.”

“You’re an idiot is what you are.” Elliot said. “A hypocrite and an Idiot. And delusional and an ass.”

“Blaine, I suggest you stop speaking before you further prove just how stupid you can be.” Kurt said. “And frankly, everyone here knows which of the two of us has been having sex this week so far…you haven’t taken any care to hide the proof.”

“But I can have sex.” Blaine said.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Men in this room, how many are Gay or Bisexual, or any other identity on the spectrum?”

About half the room raised their hands and Kurt started to cough.

“You Ok there?” Elliot asked.

“Maybe Dalton was a gay school and I just never knew.” Kurt said.

David started to laugh.

“Anyway…” Kurt continued. “IF you are in a monogamous relationship, is it perfectly all right for your other half to have sex with other people?”

Most of those who had raised their hands shouted no.

“Straight men, if you are in a monogamous relationship with a girl….say engaged…is it all right to have sex with other people?”

Most of the straight guys said no.

“Those of you who did not say no to that…IF I asked your GIRLFRINDS the question would they say it was all right for you…the guy…to have sex with others while in a monogamous relationship?”

Only two tried to insist that their girls understood that men must be men and have sex with anyone their nether regions wanted.  Kurt asked for numbers of their girlfriends to ask.  Neither still had a girlfriend.

“There you go, Blaine.” Kurt said.  “The majority of the people here KNOW YOU ARE WRONG.  Not that it really matters. Do you know WHY it doesn’t really matter? Because I, the other half of this supposedly monogamous relationship, think you are WRONG!”

“So?” Blaine said.

The majority of the others in the room looked at Blaine in confusion.

“So?  So I think that BOTH people in a relationship that is monogamous only see each other…that is what monogamous means.  That means when one of those is NOT just seeing the other in the relationship, he is CHEATING.  I told you when I took you back…I would not be cheated on. I don’t give a flying rat’s ass if YOU don’t think you are cheating for whatever STUPID rationality you have concocted…I think you are cheating and I am THE ONLY ONE who matters in that.  I will not live in a world of double standards, Blaine.”

“Now, Kurt,” Blaine started, in a tone of voice that instantly grated on Kurt’s nerves even more. It was that condescending tone Blaine used when he thought Kurt was too naive or too poor to understand.

“We’ll speak of it at home.” Kurt said. “My dad might even join us. For now…I do believe Elliot has managed to work something out with his beatboxes. You are boring me, Blaine. You should go find something to do away from the rest of us….like you have all week, I’m sure.”

With that Kurt turned and stalked over to the piano. “Play me my part, boys.”

Paul smirked and started playing the notes he wanted Kurt to take on “come together”.   Most the guys who’d been sitting with Conner and Kurt by the couches moved over to the piano as well, Jake dragging an armchair over for Conner to sit in. Blaine just stared. No one was paying any attention to him, or Chaz or Ricky or Edwin…or even Wes.  Kurt smirked as Edwin and then Ricky whispered into Blaine’s ear again and Chaz pulled them all out to the hot tubs, Blaine frowning the whole way.

“I still don’t know who He is.” Wes stated, pointing at Elliot.

Kurt paused in his vocals. “Elliot Gilbert, my bandmate and friend.  Apparently there are people out there that care about me, Wes. So when he read the Facebook blow-up, he contacted Jeff and Nick and came out to help locate me…as in as soon as he read the Facebook blow–up he made efforts to come find me…he didn’t fuss about and ignore that I was ‘missing’. Your…nonchalant…manner of dealing with a missing person is, I hope, because it happens often enough with positive results that it wasn’t a real issue.  I shall have to ask Richards about that.”

Wes paled. “I’ve got…things…to do.” Wes said as he turned and headed towards the kitchens and Richards.

Kurt smirked and turned his attention back to singing.

They hadn’t got far in putting together the song before dinner was announced.

It was a much different experience than the first night, when Kurt felt like no one noticed him. All sorts of people came up to him and spoke to him.  He met the guys who’d taken out the motorbikes after he’d gone for his ride; he met several of Ravi’s friends, who spoke with him about his dad and politics. He met a few of the older Warblers, who had been working with Elliot on the songs right before dinner.

It wasn’t like Blaine was alone…he had his little harem and a small posse of pals who gathered around them like moths to a flame.  But Kurt was included in a group as well, and comments from said group made Kurt wonder how much of his being left alone at first was at Blaine’s suggestion.  He’d heard more than one person say they’d hoped to talk to him but that Blaine had told them Kurt would prefer they not.

After dinner they went and worked on the songs Elliot wanted to try, getting ‘Come Together’ to a level that Conner recorded it for Elliot. Then Jeff and Nick talked Kurt into doing Blackbird for them.  Like Kurt had predicted, more guys than they started with moved into the music room to participate.  Kurt could see about nine guys out in the hot tubs, where Blaine and his group were holding court, but the majority of guys were in with Kurt. Several of the guys who’d sung with Ravi and the older Warblers showed off some of the songs they’d done in the days…and won with.  Kurt was especially fond of the medley of John Denver songs they did and their ‘Ring of Fire’ arrangement.

When it started to get dark, Kurt and Elliot headed back to the camp. Jeff and Nick and Conner and Jake were to spend the next day at the Kurt’s campsite…or at least part of it. Elliot grabbed the knapsack of clothes from Jeff’s car as they headed out.

They chatted on the small hike back to the camp.  Kurt pulled out sodas to drink and they retired directly to the tent.  

“You’ll have to share the mattress.” Kurt said. “But you can have your own sleeping bag. I’m changing, I hope you don’t mind. I have extra blankets in the corner if you need some; it is still a bit chilly at night.  I haven’t been cold, but I bought extra thick fleece pajamas.”

“Can I brag to one and all tomorrow that I got to sleep with you?” Elliot asked. “I’ll be fine; I packed what I have been wearing at night at the retreat.”

Kurt shrugged.

“Kurt?”

“I was hoping to wait to actually break-up with Blaine until after finals….I know he is going to fail and blame it all on me as it is. With a break-up added to that?  I’ll be lucky if they don’t toss me out on me ear…for making the poor darling so stressed and broken hearted he couldn’t do his work. And the teachers will buy it….they always do for him and Rachel.”

“You are forgetting something.” Elliot said.  He made sure to hunt around his bag while Kurt changed his pants. “There is a whole day of you being lost broadcast all over social media and a whole day of Blaine not caring being broadcast just as loudly.  There are three dozen guys here who will mostly vouch for the activities that Blaine did here…while you were lost.  And also probably about how NOT heartbroken the brat is.  I’ll come with you and talk to the powers that be if need be. You know I will.”

“And yet, somehow I doubt it would make a difference.” Kurt said.

“Then make it make a difference.  Is it everyone who seems under their spell, or just certain people?  Go to other department heads if you need to. Had Rachel charmed them all? Are those under Blaine’s spell also those under who had been under Rachel’s?  Or did he do his own schmoozing?” Elliot asked.

Kurt tilted his head as he thought.  “You know…I don’t think she had.  She rather alienated the dean who oversees the drama classes…and who overseas most the non-practical courses like script analyses. She’s upset most the staff who teach on the tech side of the program and all the staff who deal with dance…all the staff, not just the instructors. She was rude to most the other vocal professors. Blaine is harder to gauge…there are people who praise and adore him who don’t seem to have ever met him or know much more about him than he has to be wonderful because he is in sophomore classes. Or maybe his folks put sooo much money into getting him in the classes he is in that they are enamored with that.  I don’t know how to prepare for that.”

“His folks gave money to the school to ensure his class choices?” Elliot asked, pulling out his pants and sleeping shirt now that Kurt was mostly changed.

Kurt shrugged and turned around to pull out the small speakers for his IPod so they could listen to music and Elliot could change pants. “His first semester he was in regular first year freshman classes and he just did OK…there were no As…but he passed the things he took with Bs and Cs.  He was like Rachel, though…he took voice and a private voice section, acting, dance and a lecture course on auditioning for different formats that he wasn’t supposed to be able to take but his brother knew the guest lecturer and got him into that one.  He carried just enough credits to be full time.  He dropped dance with Ms. July and changed into a lower level course within the first week taught by someone else…which he also skipped about ¼ of. He skipped out on his acting course half the time.  Then second semester starts up and he is in 6 of my 8 classes….all 6 of his classes are with me.  My classes are sophomore level…I spent the time attending everything I needed to move ahead with the amount of credits needed to be a sophomore.  He hadn’t even taken any of the first year of script analysis, or English 101, which were supposed to be the prerequisites for script writing.  He hadn’t taken the dance courses or the movement course which was supposed to be needed to take stage combat. The same for everything.  I asked how he was in my classes.  His first response was that he was just so good all his teachers recommended he skip ahead. Then I said I was going to ask around to see which teachers said that. He huffed and puffed and whined before saying that he just signed up and then pull strings to stay.  It was during a chat with Rachel I learned his dad was donating several good sized scholarships for the years he was in the school and that his mom was donating to help fund some instrument updates so he could have the best for accompanying his star performances. I simply concluded that was how he got himself into classes he wasn’t suited or prepared for.”

“Please tell me you are kidding?  That is absolutely horrible.”

“I only wish I were. And I suppose I could be wrong, but it is the only explanation that makes any sense…well, there is the people are hypnotized by his puppy dog eyes and hair gel theory, but generally I only indulge in that one when I am a bit tipsy on cough syrup and pain meds and still running a high fever…or concussed.” Kurt said.

Elliot snorted and tucked the clothing he’d changed out off into his knapsack, making sure he’d pulled out the thick socks he’d packed when he saw Kurt pull out his own. He handed Kurt the knapsack and Kurt passed it off to the side of the tent where his own was resting.  He flopped back onto the air mattress.  Kurt settled beside him.

“This is ridiculously comfortable for an air mattress.” Elliot said.

Kurt blushed. “I didn’t want Sam to be uncomfortable. My dad would have been upset.  He sees Sam as one of us most the time.”

“Do you ever wish to see what would happen if you had that kind of money to pour into things?” Elliot asked, staring at the top of the tent.

“No.” Kurt answered. “I decided once I started school that I wanted to gather as much experience as possible.  I never want a lack of knowledge or experience on my part to be the reason a production has issues. I didn’t get the parts that Blaine and Rachel always did. I didn’t get the summer jobs performing, or the summer voice lessons or fancier dance classes outside Lima, which both had even if they didn’t take as much advantage of what they were given as they could.  I have time and learning to catch up on.”

Elliot snorted. “Why is it always the ones who had everything who never appreciate it?”

Kurt smiled. “I don’t know, but seriously…there is one huge thing I learned at Dalton; Appreciate the things you have and don’t go looking for something better all the time. At first I was jealous of all those kids and their never ending cash, but then I realized that half couldn’t even make themselves a sandwich…let alone wash their clothing or fix their car or bike.  Lose a button?  Toss the shirt out and go buy a new one. However fine that was for a uniform shirt, I watched so many boys whine or get into a rage over loosing favorites because they lost a button.  Drop paint on your shoe?  Write home for a new pair to be sent and some extra cash for emotional turmoil, while whining that now you have to break in new shoes and your favorites are ruined forever and can’t be worn.  Miss lunch due to a meeting with a teacher?  Even with options of an open kitchen for student use after lunch was over and each dorm having a stocked kitchen, half of them would starve instead because they had no clue how to even find a snack.  Not all of them were that bad, but most were close. Our uniform shirts were 60 bucks, due to being so well made and tailored, supposedly. I actually made a killing off kids who would lose a button, bring their shirt to me to mend for 30 bucks, while writing home them needed money to buy a new shirt.  Their parents would send the money and they’d pocket the remainder for sneaking out clubbing or some other dumb thing.  I charged twenty to make grilled cheese, 10 for peanut butter and anything and 10 for meat sandwiches.  I charged three to peel oranges.  Often I made 60 bucks a day from just peeling oranges throughout the day. On the other hand…I realized that if needed, I could survive on my own even then.  I had the life skills needed, and had work experience that would have allowed me to be fine, even if I wasn’t happy.  I could have had full time work as a mechanic with little problem.”

Elliot laughed.  “Did any of them ever realize how much you were overcharging them?”

Kurt smirked. “The few who did were so desperate that they paid anyway.  I am hoping most of them NOW realize it, due to the fact they are all supposedly adults living in adult worlds.  It sounded like most the boys up at the house were managing Ok.”

Elliot laughed. “I suppose so.  What are you going to do about things?”

“I’m going to enjoy the rest of the time here with the guys…and take you out on those dirt bikes with me tomorrow.  I am going to then go home and study and take my finals and finish presentations and whatnot next week.  I am going to call my dad and have him help get back half the money I spent for this week from Blaine…and the rent and other expenses Blaine is supposed to be helping with but really hasn’t.  It’s only been a month since Rachel moved out and he moved in, so the expenses aren’t insurmountable if he doesn’t manage to get Blaine to pay up, but I’m going to try.  I am going to inform Blaine he has a month to be gone from the loft. I am going to have Chase come in with his buddy and help me create a spate space for someone else to live with me and find a roommate.  Not sure where I’m going from there…I’ll tell you after finals.”

Elliot reached over and grasped Kurt’s hand.  “I’ll keep you to it…and to your immediate plans.  Do you think you can make it through the next week?”

Kurt nodded. “As long as I focus on finals, yeah.”

“I can be done by next Friday, even with taking from now until Monday off.  So I can be around when you need backup when moving Blaine out or going to the school about his complaints if they happen.  Dani said she’d return next week if you need her. She got a bit extra in a paycheck and they don’t compete until next weekend after Sunday…she could use it to fly home and be there for you after Sunday.”

“No.  I’ll be good. I would feel so guilty if she used that money to fly to New York just because my world can’t stay stable for any length of time.” Kurt said.

“Yes, well….we both still feel guilty for not being around when you got bashed earlier this year.” Elliot said.

“I am sorry you didn’t know about it until weeks after.  Rachel and Blaine suck at telling people anything…My dad wouldn’t even have known if the hospital hadn’t called him, and he was the one to call the school.  Both were asked about me, but both just said I ‘was indisposed’ and couldn’t make it to classes. They never even turned in the notes I made for them to take.  If I hadn’t needed to reassure myself I could still present my performance assignment, I have no doubts I wouldn’t have any misses excused because my dad wouldn’t have called and got the doctors to talk to the teachers.  I should have tossed Blaine’s sorry ass to the side then. I still wouldn’t have gotten to do my performance if I hadn’t gotten out of the hospital the day before the last day of performances and my dad hadn’t marched into the school and demanded to see the written policy on medical emergencies and then taken it straight to Madame T.  He gave her a lovely lecture on not holding me responsible for Blaine’s behavior, which she forgot she heard before he’d even headed back to Washington DC.”

“I am not joking, Kurt. I want you to promise to go speak with the other deans and discuss Blaine and Rachel and Madame T’s response to them and you.  I swear you should transfer somewhere else.”

Kurt chuckled “I have thought about it. But…I got into NYADA and I don’t want to quit because of Rachel or Blaine. I don’t want to give either the satisfaction. And they would both be quick to rub it in and make sure everyone we ever met knew I had failed…I had quit.”

“Then get the help to make it through that school that you need.  This past semester has been ridiculous.”

“To be fair, the June issue is mostly my fault.  I caved to Blaine’s need to be the focus of all around him and it was my apology for making him feel badly about himself.”

“It wouldn’t have been an issue if the lady had any taste.  Blaine was outlandish and annoying the whole song…and it wasn’t even a good performance because he was not working as a group with anyone.  He over sang and over acted everything.  And before you say anything the whole performance was posted to blogs…so yes I saw it.  AND people there said the video didn’t even do justice to Blaine’s over done attitude. As to the apology bit, I still don’t see anything YOU needed to apologize for.  YOU didn’t make him eat all the fattening food he ate, YOU didn’t prevent him from exercising, I doubt YOU ever even told him no except for the time you were under doctor’s orders to not do anything too strenuous. ”

“I didn’t.  In fact he was always telling me NO, even before I was bashed.  You are right. What makes it worse is the choreography that I stuck with was Blaine’s idea and how we practiced it.  He didn’t want me to ‘be too loud’ in my actions of motions and he wanted everything ‘subtle’ and yet ‘a bit comical’.  I should have done what I wanted as soon as he started his own thing. Or just taken off with my original song counter to him and left him story of our lives to sing on his own.”

“What did you have planned?” Elliot asked.

“Outlaw of Love…or Let Me Entertain You.”

“I would have paid to see either.” Elliot said.

Kurt laughed. “I considered a full Glam For Your Entertainment, but I decided against that after Madame T nearly had a coronary when I came into school with nail polish still of after a spa afternoon with Isabella when I was recovering from the bashing.  They weren’t even too out there…just deep blood red glitter with a high gloss shine. For the head of a theater school, she is very conservative.  I think that is why the Apples had such a hard time…and some of the other kids.  Kids that are her stars are those students that are great but also completely ‘normal’…the ones who would be leads without anything about them standing out in any way that could be negative.  I heard the Dean of Tech yell at her once that NYADA was a school for the arts, the kids were supposed to feel free to be artsy.”

Elliot snorted. “I heard the other vocal teachers actually put out students who have higher hiring rates.”

“Master Franko does. I finally looked those stats up. Madame T has pushed out more ‘stars’ from her classes, but Master Franko teaches students who are hired consistently. And has had a fair amount of stars come out of his classroom as well.  I am taking courses from him this summer and next fall. I haven’t looked into the other two yet.”

“You should take courses from those as well.  I seriously think that if given the option one should take courses from as many different teachers as one can. I mean, yes…classes from the head of the costume department at NYU were fantastic, but when I took construction techniques from Martin Mayers, who worked with the museum as well as working as one of the head costumers for NYU shows, I learned so much more.  Not because he was better, but because his focus wasn’t exactly the same and so he had a different perspective.”

“There was a class that was on writing music that I thought about taking…it dealt not only with creating original works but also transposing songs into different keys and mash-ups and legalities. I think I’ll fit that in next year somewhere. I did well enough in music theory to take it.”

“I think you be brilliant at it.” Elliot said. “Well get you through this, Kurt.  I think you’ll find so many more doors opening up once we’ve got this door with Blaine nailed shut.  I think you’ll find so many people just waiting to pounce in and take up space in your life as so as they knew they can…friends and lovers.”

Kurt squeezed Elliot’s hand. Images of Jeff and Nick and Conner and Jake and David flitted through his head.  They were chased by thoughts of Adam and his Apples, the guys from stage combat, and other in different classes who always were friendly but seem to hold back…and look around as if to see who was about.  Then Chase and Sal’s laughs passed through his mind. Kurt looked at Elliot’s smiling face and thought of what he had said about Dani…and about the other from the band.

“I think you might just be right.  We should turn off the lantern and watch a movie before trying to get some sleep.  I have got to take you out on those dirt bikes.  I think you will love it.  I am so kicking myself for telling my dad I didn’t want one when I was little.”

“Your dad offered you a dirt bike? I thought you just meant lessons or something.” Elliot asked.

Kurt laughed.

“I was entering JR. High and didn’t want to give into what I saw as pressure to be ‘normal’ and ‘fit in’ and be just like all the other rude horrid boys I knew.  And as much as I had enjoyed riding a 4wheeler the summer before, I wasn’t absolutely gaga over it, so I didn’t figure a dirt bike would live up to the hype my Father was giving it.  I’m pretty certain he wanted me to race them.”

Elliot laughed as well. “Blow that candle out, then.”

Kurt’s breath caught before he turned and turned off the light.

“Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight,” Kurt sang softly as he pulled open the laptop. “But I think I’ll be all right.”

#glee fanfic #Kurt Hummel #elliot gilbert #warblers

[faangirl101]

Webbed and flirty, Peter x reader

Peter parker x reader

Anonymous asked: Could you write a Peter Parker x reader where the reader is Peter Quills daughter and when her and Peter meet its like flirting plus Tony and Peter Q being dad’s? Thank you

Authors note: all you have to know is that Peter Quiell is “papa” and Tony stark is “dad”

MASTERLIST

“Parker”, my dad, tony stark, turned his back to me as he whispered low into the phone. The rest of the conversation was hard to judge from the whispered words i actually caught.

“Today”

“pyjamas”

“tell your aunt it's the internship”

He was talking to peter parker, of course. I mean, i am Tony stark's daughter after all, did he really think he could hide the fact that spider boy is peter parker? We used to go to the same school, peter and i, and still after being extremely attracted to him, i did not once have a real conversation with him. Then we graduated and everything was lost, well until i eavesdropped on my dads and overheard them mention peter parker. After that it wasn't hard to figure out the rest.

Peter Quill, my papa (which i called him to not mix him him up with my other Tony), sat trying to handle the ipod he got from Tony on his birthday. “Yo”, he bumped his shoulder with mine “this thing can keep like, 300 songs, can you pinch me darling, i just wanna be sure i'm not dreaming”. I rolled my eyes, trying to look uninterested, even if a smile was threatening from him being this happy “Dad, its 2018, catch up”.

He pointed his tongue out at me before putting his headphone in. Music streamed out, reaching my ears.

I was bored again. “Daaaaaad”, i muttered getting up and started walking after Tony. “Not now, pumpkin”, he reached out a finger in front of me shushing me. I don't like being hushed, long story short. i tried to speak again but Tony hushed me again. “No you don't have to bring your own own pyjamas, i've told you i've already made you a new suit”.

Before any of us really could react, i snatched the phone out of Tony grip and placed it onto my own ear. “Heya peter”, i tried to calm my beating heart and rising blush. Tony tried to take the phone back but i slipped out of his reach and jumped up on the coach were Peter was sitting. “h-hey”, i heard the teenage boy stutter on the other line. “y/n Stark, Tony's daughter here, we went to Italien class together”. i heard a nervous laugh on the other line “right. Starks daughter. Ummm, we never really talked, not the same friend circle”. I felt the blush rising up in my scalp, no matter how hard i tried to cool it down. I saw Tony grimace behind the yellow sunglasses as he mouthed “give it back”. But i wasn't done messing with him just yet. “Well that's all going to be changed when you come here, Spider boy, i can't wait to catch up with you”, i said with the sweetest voice i had, fluttering my eyelashes even if dad was the only one who saw. Then i bounced down from the couch and handed Tony back his phone. He was surprised, to say at least, not only because i knew Peter was spiderman… but also because i just flirted with him. Dad gave me one last warning look before leaving the room with the phone pressed tight against his ear. Right before the door slammed shut i heard him say “That, Penis parker, is my daughter. She's off limits, don't look at her and don't even think of her”. I couldn't wait until Peter got here.

Two hours later, after 1 pound of makeup and the cutest summer dress i had Peter finally arrived to Avengers tower. My face was glistering of highlighter and my lips covered in a soft pink making them look more swollen. The dress was simple, yellow and off shoulder. The end of it reached my mid thighs and showed of my new shaved tanned legs. My hair was just half up and half down, to keep it out of my face. Okay, i will admit i made myself this cute because Peter fricking Parker, was going to show up. And… well because i wanted to piss of my dad. I looked in the mirror, grimacing in different “cute” smiles to myself. “Hey peter”, i said to my reflections while fingering on the end of my hair tipps. I wasn't being cute, i looked like a complete idiot. Plus, i had nothing on Liz, makeup or not. It was a well known fact about Peters crush and who really blames him. Liz was so cute and incredibly smart and supportive, you just couldn't hate her. Its weird i had two dads that both are considered beautiful but still ended up looking compelly average. “Peter”, i smiled honestly into the mirror “hows life?”. How's life? really? I blew out a nervous breath while fixing my hair. Maybe i should just stay up here, safe with a book.

“Y/n”, My papa called “That pete kid is here”. I could feel the familiar blush rising again, fuck, i never blush this often. “Umm, peter, Mr Quill”, i heard Peter correct him and just to hear his voice made butterflies scatter in the depths of my abdomen. “Coming!”, I called back as i took one last look in the mirror. At this point, he was probably dating Liz so it really doesn't matter what i look like. I swung up the door, tripping out in the corridor out in the living room. And my entire body went into “i'm screwed” mode. Peter fucking Parker got hit by puberty. Real good. His hair was longer now, flowing down his forehead in small curls. I could see pure muscles through his his tight star-wars t-shirt. His usual blue hoodie was wrapped around his firm waist, and i thanked god he made the day hot enough for him to take of the hoodie. He was taller now, at least a head taller than me. Jesus, this boy always found new ways to make me shake of adrenaline. I decided it was weird to continue to stare like this so i walked forward to my dad. Peter looked at me, his jaw fell open i shock at the look of me, but it looked like he caught himself when Tony gave him a warning look. “Peter!”, I smile at his t-shirt “ha, nice one”. He looks down the t-shirt which says “i could make a star wars pun, but i don't wanna force it”. He smiled back up to me as he rubbed the backside of his neck nervously “umm thanks, i like your dress”. I blush again, dammit. “Watch it, kid”, i heard Tony mumble under his breath. Papa put a hand dad's shoulder and gives him a meaning look. Dad seems to relax a bit of his husbands hand. “What are you working on”, I asked looking past Peters shoulder. On a table was peter suit firmly folded. “Well, Peter keeps cutting out the baby monitor protocol”, Tony put his arms over his chest stubbornly. I rolled my eyes “come on dad, he's 18”. Even if i know Dad probably mouthed my words childishly for himself i chose to look at Peter instead “you hacked into the suits safe system through the video cord right?”. Peter nodded and i laughed for myself “yeah, weak spot. That's how i hack myself into the surveillance camera he put in my room”.

Peter smiled impressed “well, i tried taking away the support wheel protocol with the same tactive but the video cord was too deep so i  needed Ned´s help, he was pissed at me cause he rather build the death star lego set with me…”. The Boys eyes shots upen as he looks down at the ground stumbling “why would you say that, peter”. His nervosity was adorable. “How many pieces?”, i ask and can't help but to look fairly intresseded. I'm such a nerd, jesus. Peter take a step closer like he's about to whisper “3803”. I wrinkle my forehead “what? no way? its like 4016”. He chuckles shaking his head “nah nah, its a common knowledge that its 3803 pieces”. I laugh mockingly at him “oh god, you're such a noob, everybody knows it's 4016, look it up, jar jar”.

He pretend to look offended by my comment “Did you just call me jar jar? i'm obviously Han”.

I take a step closer without really thinking about it “yeah? who am i then, obi wan?”. He gives me something i would judge as a flirty smile “More like Leia”.

We are so close to eachother now i can feel his breath on my face. I make sure to look at his lips before dropping my risky line “why? because you wanna see me in a golden bikini?”.

That shuts him up but i still catch him looking at my lips, if only for a second.

“Hey! Hey”, Tony push me gently out of the way “That's enough”. While Dragging Peter down to the lab i can hear him mumble something similar to “Kids nowadays”. Papa putts a arm around my shoulder “take it easy on your dad, kay?”. I nod but in the back of my head i'm screaming “lies”. My papa's beard tickle me as he bends down to whisper in my ear “yeah, by the way, keep messing with your dad. I haven't seen him this ireeterad since his and Stevens fight. he's really hot when he's bothered”. I groan pushing him away “Ewww, papa?! i didn't need to know that. Eeeww, pictures in my head”. Papa winked at me while clicking his tongue “plus i think that Peter kid really likes you. he's a good kid that would do  good to you”.

“Peter?”, i whisper scream while looking around the lab. According to JARVIS, Dad left about 20 minutes ago and Peter is still in the building. When i dint get an answer i tip toe further into the room “Parker?”. I hear a thumb followed by some swear words. On a bench, Peter sat grasping onto his head while groaning. I whine for myself before speaking out “I'm sorry if i startled you”. peter lets out a mix of a chuckle and a gasp “no problem, my spider senses should have sensed you coming in”. I walk over to him, seemed to surprise him the second time this hour by putting a hand on his head. “Lemme look at it”, i whisper as i try to ignore how good his soft locks feel between my fingers. He nod as he moves the chair under him so he sits right in front of me. I move my fingers gently through his hair, careful not to accidently press to hard. “You have soft hair, what conditioner do you use?”, i say jocklingy to light up the situation. It seems to work as he chuckles under me. It was like a silent approval to make him laugh as i smile proudly. Even if i'm way past looking for a wound, i continue to move my hands through his soft hair. i can't help it. it smells so good and i can't help but to think how it would feel between my hands while he eats me out. A warmth spreads through my stomach as i try to swallow down my desire. “That feels good”, he mumbles so low i just barely managed to hear him. “for both of us”, i whisper back as i can feel him push his head closer to me like he's chasing my touch. In the action the stroller on the chair bumps into my shoes, knocking me out of balance. But Peter seems to see this seconds before me as im suddenly  being catched by my waist and falls forward instead. I land on top of his lap, my sundress flying up to fall like a duvet over his jeans and my thighs. I'm out of breath, so surprised over the past seconds. His hands are still on my hips, keeping me from falling again.

I realize the situation i'm in. This looked wrong, sure, but it felt so right. “Thanks”, i mumble and do the mistake to look into his eyes. He's looking right ame me at the same time, and were stuck in eachothers iris. His eyes are dark, dangerously dark, like a promise about the things he could do. They pupil dilate at the sight of you. I lick my dry lips and he follows the action. I can feel the touch of his hands burn though the material of my dress and mek me all hot and giddy. I can feel his muscles as my hands are on top of his shoulders.

He looks down, like he's hiding a smile. I swallow the lump of anxiety threatening in my throat. “Umm”, he muttered as he slowly looks up at me “i really-y, like reeeeally want to kiss you right now”. I can feel the smile i try to hide escape and light up my face. My heart is so painfully big, that's what it feels like, like it's going to explode inside me. “You better, i've been waiting on it since the first year on collage. Kiss me now, Han”.

He gives me a honest smile, like a kid on christmas morning as he starts leaning in.

I close my eyes as i wait for his lips to meet mine. But instead i feel his hot breath on top them as he mumbles “you know, i had a major crush on you but then i became Spiderman and Tony and i decided to try to keep you out of this life”. I chaste a small peck against his soft lips “just kiss me, parker”. He olbigates at one's and move his head to the side to press his lips against mine. Finally after 3 years of longing he kiss me so i can't really hold back the moan. that only seems to spear him on as hand hug my neck so he can press me closer. He taste like green tea and lemon mints. My hands go back to his locks, still surprised over how soft they are. His tongue swipes over my inner lips, begging for permission. I smile against the soft sensation but dont grant him he pleasure. His hand suddenly squeeze my ass leaving me gasping of shook. He takes advantage of my open mouth to move his tongue inside my mouth. It's so much, his wet lips, his hand, his curls bouncing between my fingers. I press my lower part hard against him out of pure instinct. I realized it turned out almost like a grind against his pants. He didn't seem to mind. “Fuck”, he groans as he starts kissing my jaw in tickles soft pecks “you are perfect”. I giggle as his pecks finds their way to a ticklish point. “Come here, big boy”, i'm completely out of breath from the kissing but can't wait another minute for his lips against mine again. Just as he's about to kiss me again we get interrupted by a loud voice “Parker?!”. Fuck. We stumble away from him and i stroke down my dress as fast as i can. “I told you one thing”, My dad point at Peter, who looks like a scared child getting caught doing something bad “not to touch my daughter”. At this point i'm starting to get tired of Tony “please daddy’”. I rarely call him daddy, and it seems to actually catch is attention. I walk forward and place both of my hands on his bearded cheeks “Just.. its 2018 dad, i don't need your approval, okay. I really like Peter. Not to be rude or anything, but could you maybe leave not, old man, we were in the middle of something”.

Dad scoffs offended but still lowers his finger. I can hear Papa laughing from the middle of the lab “yeah, tony, let the kids have their fun”. Like usually, i'm thankful Peter is actually my cool dad. “You heard your husband”, i smile, almost mockingly “let me have my fun”. Tony scoff again before pointing at Peter “i swear on my stark industri, if i found out you two have…. cuddled, i'm going to make sure to pull enough strings so you can't get a job in all of America”. Peters is beyond terrified as his adams apple move “yes, sir”. i nod as a silent “thank you” to Tony as i make my way back to Peter. “So”, i slide my hands over his shoulders “where were we?”. He shift his eyes between my dad's and i “i don't really feel safe kissing in front of them”. I chuckle well pressing my nose against his “they will just have to deal with it”. Then he pressed his lips against mine softly and sweet. My dad might not be 100 % okay with Peter at the moment, but i know he will eventually. So right now, it's all good.

#peter parker #peter #peter x reader #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #iron man #iron man dad #iron man x reader #reader stark #stark reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader #spider man x reader #spider man #peter quill #peter quill x reader #starlord x reader #starlord x iron man #spider-man: homecoming #avengers infinity war #infinity war #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fandom #avenger #the avengers #reader #you #fluff

[eene-fangirl]

Stand By Ed Chapter 6 [An Ed, Edd n Eddy/Stand By Me Crossover]

NOTE: Chapter 6 of @camriko-arts collaboration on Stand By Ed!

No less than an hour later the Eds journeyed further into the woods. The more Edd kept saying that he kept thinking about the famous musical.

Ed brought along his ipod. He plugged in and started goofily dancing around. Edd and Eddy could make out the lyrics of the ‘Lolly Pop’ tune. It was Ed’s favorite song. It always cheered him up. The tallest of the Eds danced around in different motions, bobbing his head and humming along. It was quite the entertainment for Edd and Eddy who walked together a short distance behind Ed.

“He’s a riot!” Eddy chuckled.

Edd smiled fondly at Ed. “There are some days I wish I could experience the serenity of Ed’s world.”

“Why?” Eddy asked, intrigued. “I mean, same here! I’d like to know how that big guy’s mind works, too. Sometimes I think its a field full of chickens and Ed’s frolicking through them.”

Edd giggled at the funny image. He continued to look on at Ed. Nobody would ever think he and Ed were friends. They were different. That’s what Edd liked about his friends. He wished others would understand.

“He’s always so happy. I would like to know how Ed stays so positive despite all the negative events that have impacted his life.”

Eddy noticed Edd’s head sadly dip to the ground, watching his feet. Ever since they left the cul-de-sac he looked down. It had to have something to do with that car parked in the driveway. A car was never there.

Eddy remembered again that he and Edd barely spent much of the summer together. In the past they’d see each other every single day. The three of them spent countless hours making up scams, or having sleepovers, and even drinking as many sodas burping aloud the alphabet. Eddy snickered at that fond memory. Why couldn’t life stay that way?

Glancing back up at Edd, he asked, “So, you ready for school?”

Edd’s uncomfortable reaction only made Eddy worry further. School was Edd’s favorite topic. Edd didn’t attend the Peach Creek school system until the fourth grade. Before then he was homeschooled. The poor guy was stuck in his dark room, alone.

Fourth grade was when the three of them finally became friends and started hanging out. It was strange. Considering how close they were you’d think they’d been hanging out since Edd moved into the cul-de-sac when he was five. But, they didn’t. Eddy blamed Edd’s parents, hating them even more for sheltering their gifted son.

“I do admit that I’m more nervous,” Edd replied, hardly looking at Eddy.

“Understandable.”

“We’re attending high school!” Edd announced as if he was just realizing this fact for the first time.

“You can say that again!”

“We’re attend-”

Edd stopped himself realizing the catch. He eyed Eddy who was biting at his lip, giggling.

“Gotcha!”

“Very funny,” Edd mumbled, though he was smiling.

They were silent once more.

“Eddy?”

“Yeah?”

“May I ask you something?” Edd asked timidly.

“Shoot away.”

Edd licked his lips. He took a deep breath. “Am I... peculiar?”

Eddy reacted little to the question. “Everyone’s weird, Double D. Look at Ed and I!”

“Answer me honestly, Eddy,” Edd stated in a sad tone.

Eddy struggled having no idea what sort of answer Edd was looking for. “Well, yeah, but you’re you! I’m surprised you actually still hang out with Ed and I.”

“We’re the Eds, Eddy.” A confused Edd stated.

Something was troubling Eddy. Now he was looking at his feet. “Not when high school comes around.”

“What are you referring to?” Edd asked.

“You know what happens in high school. Friends split ‘cause they find new people and other activities. You fit in more in school then Ed and I. Face it, you’re better off without us.”

“Eddy, that is not true!”

“Yeah, it is! You’re good at so many things! Look, you’re already takin’ AP courses while Ed and I are takin’ all the normal classes that are hardly significant. You’ll join clubs, win awards, probably go on trips with the science team, and deserve the best scholarship to a college which serves all the smartest brainiacs in the world.”

Edd shook his head trying to comprehend all this. This is not the conversation he wanted to have while out here. “Eddy, where is all this coming from? I’m not leaving you and Ed!” Edd firmly stated.

“Well, then you’re bein’ selfish and holding your own skin back!”

“I’m not being selfish! You said yourself! We have to stick together!”

Eddy was silent, rolling his eyes. Though he was happy with Edd’s neverending camaraderie.

“Have you still been writing?” Edd asked changing the subject.

Eddy sulked his shoulders. “Eh,” he grunted in tone of voice which said he did not want to talk about this.

“I really like your writing, Eddy. You produce so many wonderfully touching stories.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddy mumbled.

“Eddy, you could be a writer!”

“Screw writing!” Eddy barred through his teeth spitting out all the anger investing his insides.

“What turns you off about it? It’s helped you!”

“That’s what everyone says!” Eddy yelled out frustrated. Now they stopped walking, standing in the middle of the woods. “My Dad tells me, ‘you’re just a kid, Eddy,’ and I’m like ‘oh gee, thanks! You know how hard that is?’ I have no freakin’ clue what I want to do! You’re always one step ahead of Ed and I! Like I said, you’re better off!”

Edd placed a hand on his shoulder in order to calm his friend down. He was quite heated. “Eddy, you have a gift. I’m still figuring out my own abilities and even my own future. I’m still unsure and it even frightens me honestly.” Edd’s tone was sad now remembering the conversation he had with his father.

“You musn’t doubt yourself. Ed and I are here for you. You are not alone.”

The friends were quiet staring into each others eyes. They hadn’t shared a deep moment like this in ages.

“Hey, guys, what are you waiting for?” Ed called out. They were just about to exit the woods.

Eddy nervously laughed off their conversation. “Yeah, let’s go. The kid may not even be dead by the time we get there!”

Once the forest ended a valley of water surrounded the Eds. A train trestle stretched on for about a mile to the other side of the land. Edd looked all around trying to see if there was another route they could take.

“When’s the next train, Double D?” Ed asked.

“Well... we could take another route...”

“If we take a shortcut there’s no way we’re gettin’ there tomorrow!” Eddy pointed out again frustrated. “We gotta cross.”

Edd’s eyes bulged. “Cross? Are you out of your mind?”

“Double D, you know that’s been established,” Edd responded with a smirk.

“If the train comes we can’t get out of the way!”

“But, Double D, we can jump in the water.” Ed pointed out.

“It’s a one hundred foot drop, Ed. We could get hurt,” Eddy said to him.

Both Ed and Edd stared off nervously, each contemplating different scenarios. Eddy meanwhile grumbled to himself. An idea popped into his head. “Ed, you guide the front, I’ll be the caboose.”

“What?”

“We’re crossin’! Don’t worry, Double D! As long as we got each others backs we’ll make it over to the other side.”

“But, I want to be the caboose!” Ed whined.

“I’d rather keep an eye out for you two.”

“Aw-”

“You coo at me sockhead and I swear I’m pushin’ you off the trestle!”

The Eds slowly and carefully maneuvered across the trestle. Edd however crawled along the tracks fearing any misstep. His sleeping bag dragged along, getting in the way. Eddy could hear hias little moans of discomfort and felt bad for his friend. He wished that they didn’t have to go this way either. Time was not on their hands. It would be the end of the world if Bro got there first.

The water sloshed below them. Ed moved faster. That was good. He was the slowest.

Eddy practically bumped into Edd who stopped crawling. He was whimpering.

“Move it, sockhead!”

“T-Train...” he murmured.

Eddy felt rumbling under his feet. His heart throbbed. A whistle was heard a short distance behind. Eddy turned around to see a train appearing from behind the maze of trees!

“TRAAAAAAAIIIIIIIN!” Eddy hollered.

Ed immediately started running.

“Get up, sockhead!” Eddy shouted at Edd practically pushing his dear friend to his feet. His voice squeaked in terror.

Edd was petrified. This was far worse than hanging over a waterfall, witnessing the actions of Edd’s brother, or any other ordeal the Eds have gone through.

Finally Edd stood up on his feet with help from Eddy but his legs were like jello. After tripping up a few times he and Eddy finally ran as fast as their legs could take them. The train’s horn blared, warning them. Trains couldn’t stop in time!

“Run, guys! Run!” Ed shouted at them. He was already on the other side of the trestle a safe distance away. That was good.

Tears ran down Edd’s face. Eddy ordered that he dare not look back. He sounded so terrified. The train was nearing closer and closer until it was right on top of them like... like... a colossal king kong snake. Yup, Edd was definitely watching too much of Ed’s monster movies.

Just when they thought it was the end Edd and Eddy jumped off the side rolling into a ditch kicking dirt in the air.

The train rolled passed never even stopping to make sure if the boys were okay.

Ed ran up to the end of the ditch. “Guys?!” He called out. His heart was pounding out of his chest.

Eddy picked his head up only to come face to face with Edd. Eddy was practically straddling Edd.

“Oh my...” An embarrassed Edd cheeks flushed.

“Uh, you okay?” Eddy asked him.

“Yes. Fine.”

“Are you guys gonna started kissing?” Ed teased making kissing noises.

“Get real, Ed!”

Eddy helped his friend up from the ground. Edd blushed at the chivalry. Without another word they kept movie. The sun was starting to dip beneath the trees.

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eene fanfiction #EddEddy #Stand By Me #crossover #Stephen King

[emeto-things]

My Emetophobia Story!

Hi my name is Abby and I’ve had emetophobia since 2011 when I was only 8 years old. It was the winter and the flu was going around. My brother got it, and for some reason he makes himself sick on purpose so he can feel better? Idk. Either way, my bedroom was next door to the bathroom. I woke up to the horrendous sound of g* and v*. I ran into my parents room and asked my mom what was going. She told me he was purposefully making himself sick and that everything was okay. After shaking and crying, I went to bed and couldn’t sleep because it made me so awake. I ended up catching the flu a couple hours later. I was so worried that I was gonna v* too and my mom could NOT convince me that it wasn’t part of the flu and he didn’t that on purpose. The whole time I had the flu I slept barely any, constantly worrying i’d v*. Thankfully I didn’t! After the flu was gone, I was back to my normal self. Until 2013, when I was 10. I was talking to a pen pal online and we decided to make a movie together. I was in charge of everything, and she’d call me everyday asking if I had worked on it. It stressed me out so much that I developed anxiety. Later that year, I was in the car and felt totally fine but had a scary thought of “what if I get motion sickness?” I had motion sickness when I was younger and I still might I just don’t wanna test it. I started to cry and shake uncontrollably and I didn’t know why. I guess that was my first glimpse of a panic attack but I didn’t know such thing existed back then. I realized my friend was not so much of a good friend after all and decided to cut ties with her. My anxiety kinda disappeared again. I then started to develop OCD. I would constantly check her social media’s and read our old messages obsessively to the point i’d Be sad that I left her. It took me monthsss to get over that. But I eventually did. In 2014, my fears got far behind me and I was having a really good life. I don’t remember having anxiety at all much that year. It was the best year ever to this day. In early 2015 when I was 12, I started having strange, violent thoughts. I’d be sleeping with my dog and get a random “urge” to want to shove him off the bed and hurt him. The thoughts scared me so much since I love him and would never want to hurt him. I started having them more. I’d have an “urge” to kill a family member or poison them. It made me so uncomfortable and scared and I thought I had a serious problem and was going to end up a serial killer. It wasn’t until a few months later I was researching OCD and found that those thoughts are an extremely common OCD symptom and that you’d never actually act on it. I felt so much better! I found out I wasn’t a crazy person! Now I don’t even have those thoughts anymore. I was going pretty good until April 2015. I had been in an art class for about 6 months, but I’m this particular day I went, apparently a sv* was going around but I didn’t know about it. And apparently someone in my class was s* and still came in. It was a very tight class with a lot of kids and we were all sharing the same markers and pens and pencils and one girl (I believe who was the s* one) coughed with her mouth open all the time and we sat literally right next to each other that I could feel her breath on me. I didn’t have emetophobia then so I didn’t get all freaked out. Besides, I didn’t even know anyone was sick! If I did, I wouldn’t have gone. Not because I was scared but because of common sense. (This part may be a little triggering but i’ll Try not to be. Skip this part if you want.) 2 nights later, I’m asleep. I wake up around 4am with a very bad feeling. I didn’t think I was s* I just didn’t feel good. I tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t. I had a small stomach ache, I was kinda dizzy and my head felt really gross. I was also kinda hot & cold and kept having weird dreams every time I’d start to fall asleep. Since I had anxiety in the past, I figured it was just anxiety so I googled ways to calm down and then eventually, my stomach ache went away and I fell asleep. I was extremely tired & basically fell asleep during a small panic attack which is unusual. I woke up again at 7am and I remember my first thoughts were “omg I feel even worse than I did earlier” and I rubbed my head and felt kinda hot. Idk how to describe how I felt it was just horrible. I went on my iPod and went on twitter and was watching YouTube videos to keep my mind off of whatever I was feeling. I then suddenly just g*d. I went into my moms room and told her I had been feeling bad for a while and didn’t know why. She asked me if I was nervous about anything and I said no. I told her I hoped I wasn’t sick. We were counting the days of places I’ve been to see if it was a possibility for me to be sick. And when I said “I went to my art class the other day” my mom realized that could be a possibility but didn’t wanna say anything. She said she still thought I probably wasn’t s* though. I went back to bed and watched more YouTube videos. I suddenly got reaaaaaally tired and decided to listen to calming music. I put on a song and in the song, someone made a noise that sounded like a g* and that triggered my reflex since I was already feeling it anyway. I knew v* was about to happen but I kept on keeping it from happen. I even started to feel better. So I told my mom I was feeling better and would be downstairs for breakfast soon. I got dressed like I normally would, just feeling tired but not really s*. I went downstairs and got a banana and sat on the couch next to my mom. I ate two bites and started to feel s* again. She had on a cooking show which obviously didn’t make me feel any better. I told a joke to my mom that made me start laughing hard and then my headache and pain all came back. I went from laughing to g* within seconds and then it happened. I rushed to the sink, did my thing and then that was it. I ran back to the living room and started crying like crazy and screaming “what is wrong with me???” But thankfully I didn’t get s* again but I was just super tired and drained the whole day. But we had a birthday party at my house that night since I was feeling better. Since that day, everything has changed. The very next day, I started wondering about every bodily symptom that before then I would’ve totally ignored. Just thinking of bananas sent me into panic, my mom couldn’t watch her cooking show around me and the smallest stomach pain would send me into a panic spiral. Over the summer I got really busy and my phobia got pushed aside. I still worried about it more than I ever did before but I wasn’t panicking and I could get my mind off of it pretty easily. I even got to meet my favorite band (The Vamps) that summer! Which totally distracted me from everything. It was going pretty good until October 2015. I went to Starbucks and got a pumpkin coffee, and had a strange thought of “what if I’m allergic to pumpkin?” And I started to have trouble breathing (not because a health issue, it was my anxiety - but I didn’t know that then.) I calmed down, and the day went on like normal. That night, my family came over and I was in my room singing. I got extremely hot out of nowhere, so I ripped my boots, jacket and scarf off and turned on my fan. I got even more hot. Then my lips went tingly and so did my hands and feet. Then I started getting really dizzy. I ran downstairs to my mom. I had NO idea what was happening. I cried for hours and my grandma (who also has anxiety) helped me and told me it was a panic attack and how she has had them before. They really calmed me down, and after it was over I was so thankful and was glad i’d Probably never experience another one. I was wrong. The next morning, the panic symptoms came back and I was on the verge of another one. I had a panic attack everyday for around 2-3 weeks. I was miserable, tired and my nerves never got a chance to relax because any time I was almost calm, I would panic again. At the same time, my dad lost his job, my brother had a horrible cold that I caught (I’m not even telling that story because it’s too long. I didn’t v* though!!!) and my anxiety was the worst it had ever been. Christmas that year was a total blur because I was so sleep deprived and out of it that I honestly barely remember what happened. In 2016, my anxiety got a lot better. I was still very careful and worried a lot but I wasn’t panicking all the time. I developed OCD hard core though. I couldn’t do simple tasks like cleaning my room because I would have to refill a certain article of clothing 50+ times due to my OCD. My OCD would say “if you don’t fold it like this, you’ll get s*” so I listened to it. I feel like I was dead that whole year. My hair was dry and brittle and almost coming out because I stayed in the shower so long trying to get clean and I brushed my hair super hard because my OCD told me it was the only thing to prevent s* from happening. Thanks to a lovely girl online who helped me with OCD and the help of praying, my OCD went away almost completely!! I was so happy. This was in January 2017 when I was 14. My family had a stressful year though due to family problems. But around June 2017, my anxiety and emetophobia started to pick up again and it’s been bad again ever since. I worry about food and viruses more than I ever have and I’m starting to have panic attacks again. So sadly, that’s where I am now. 15 years old atm. My life is still pretty good I guess. I don’t have controlling OCD anymore, and since I’m older I’m able to think more logically than I used to. But I’m nowhere near recovery yet. Hopefully soon! Sadly, I can’t end my story on a positive note because I have recovered yet. But for all of you out there dealing with this horrible phobia, I know what you’re going through. You’re not alone. I know what it feels like to shaky uncontrollably worrying that any second you’ll be s*. I know what fake n* feels like. I know what worrying to the point you just want to sleep feels like. I know what it feels like to want to die than rather be s*. I know what you feel like! I’ve felt it several times and it’s horrible. But we can get through this together. We are so much stronger than we think we are and we won’t let this phobia beat us. I know it can be so controlling, but we can do it. Getting s* is soooo uncommon. People rarely ever v* and if they do, it’s because they were doing something us careful people wouldn’t. We are so careful that we have way less of a chance than people who aren’t like us - and even they won’t be s*!! Don’t worry. You will be okay. Remember all the times you’ve felt this way and been scared all for nothing. Each time you have a panic attack, it makes you stronger. And remember not to google your symptoms. Google doesn’t know everything and there’s a lot of liars and people who don’t know much out there. Some people probably post things just to scare us health freaks! You’re going to be okay. And you won’t be s*. Keep telling yourself that! You’re okay and we’ll get through this, together. Stay strong my loves!❤️❤️❤️