seat tube

  • my film professor: there need to be characters in films and tv that we relate to, or want to relate to, that we want to emulate and project onto
  • me, sprawled out in my seat wearing Nike Cortez, tube socks, 80s gym shorts, and a Stranger Things shirt: I don't know what you're referring to
flickr

Roger ROCHE 1981 by Jack Brown aka Willy Lee
Via Flickr:
Frame made with fillet brazed Reynolds 753 tubeset. Special seat tube and very short chain stays: 38.5 cm. All internal brake and gear cables. 8.36 kg as on the picture.

I’m about to take a social media break (I desperately need to study for grad school), but I didn’t want to do it before gifting you this update. As always, here’s a bunch of modern au headcanons stitched together in the form of fic. It’s rather long this time, but it’s worth it. Tagging my mates @queenbessofyork and @harritudur. Enjoy it!

You can read it on Ao3.


Lizzie wasn’t sure what had possessed her to accept Henry’s veiled invite for a day trip to Richmond. She only knew she had accepted it, and as a result, had spent an awfully long tube journey seated by his side, watching his Adam’s apple going up and down as he spoke pleasantries such as the day’s nice weather. Under the harsh artificial light of the carriage Lizzie noticed what a great profile he had, especially with those high cheekbones of his. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before, not really. It was rather distracting at times. Sometimes she found herself zoning out just staring at him. Embarrassing.

The day trip had a purpose: Henry was house-hunting that day and had asked Lizzie to join him, alleging he could use a woman’s opinion on the matter if she so wished to help him. Yes, house-hunting in that economy, as if Lizzie didn’t think he was minted before. Over brunch Henry had casually mentioned he had some sort of inheritance, some money left by his father that her mother intended for him to receive after his graduation. It was April, final exams were coming up, he had a job offer waiting for him at his internship company. It seemed things were looking exceedingly good for Henry so he might as well start searching for a place. Everything was great, except…

“Richmond?” Lizzie’s first reaction upon hearing his choice of borough was to repeat it back to him, like a badly trained parrot. “As in Richmond Upon Thames, zone 4?”

“Why, I thought I should give it a shot. They call it London’s happy valley for a reason, don’t you think? ” From behind his glasses, his eyes sparkled with excitement. It didn’t make Lizzie any less fidgety as she played with the rings on her fingers.

“But it’s just so… Far off.” She protested feebly. “I guess I just thought you’d pick a place near the City, or even Canary Wharf. You know, near wherever you’re going to work.”

“I don’t mind commuting, really. It’s only an eighteen-minute journey to Waterloo if a get the train. And I don’t exactly intend to spend my father’s money on a studio flat only so I could say I own property in central London.”

It was not that his arguments lacked in any sound logic. Lizzie wasn’t even sure why she was opposed to the idea in the first place. The truth is that she hadn’t dared to spend much time thinking of how things would turn out after her flatmates graduated. She knew that Rodrigo wanted to apply for a masters in international relations, so he would hopefully stay in the UK for longer. But after all that time, for some obtuse reason, she hadn’t entertained the thought that Henry could possibly choose to live far from her. Hell, he might even go back to Wales or France for all she knew. Choosing Richmond was an actual improvement when she thought of all the possible scenarios. Still, it bothered her that she could get so worked up for such a small thing as Henry’s choice of borough.

In the gentle rocking of the tube carriage, Lizzie let her mind wander as the stations passed by. Earlier at brunch the former flatmates had gone down to the pub to celebrate the end of the semester. There were still all the exams to do and a month of revision to go, but the end of lectures and a bank holiday were more than enough reason to celebrate. Lizzie and Henry had managed to convince Rodrigo to finally have his first full English breakfast, something he had resisted so far. “Your cuisine is too bland for me” was something Rodrigo used to say more often than not. And truthfully, what was a black pudding compared to a morcilla? With each bite Rodrigo did the most peculiar of faces, ranging from pleasure to disgust to… odd amusement, it seemed. Neither Lizzie nor Henry felt particularly hungry that time, so they decided to share a large order instead. Henry laid special claim to the portobello mushrooms; Lizzie got hold of the beans on toast their Spanish mate had so scornfully looked down on. Eating from the same plate, they could almost make a pretty picture.

A pretty picture. What was it that her mum said about them on the day of her hearing? “Don’t you look pretty together, the pair of you?” Ms Beaufort had gone along for the occasion and had agreed with the statement, much to Lizzie’s chagrin. Before leaving, her mother took her aside to whisper “Really, you’re sleeping on this one, Lizzie!” But instead of taking an encouraging turn, her mother’s words only soured her disposition towards the idea. What did her mum see in Henry anyway? Money? The prospect of a brilliant career much like her father’s once had been? For someone who had been accused of a gold digger her whole married life, one would think she’d have a different approach other than pushing her daughter to the first white knight that came along. Had it been five hundred years ago, Lizzie would be happy to oblige to her mother’s idea without thinking twice. As a 21st century woman, though, her mother’s insistence did not sit well with her.

It didn’t help that the estate agent also thought them a couple during the house tour in Richmond Green. “We say it’s a two-bedroom house, but you can easily turn the spare room into a third bedroom in case of guests or extra children. Have you got kids already?” Lizzie and Henry’s reaction was to simply exchange an awkward, panicking look. The agent must have confused one of her rings, or something. Lizzie decided to go for a tight-lipped smile and a simple answer. “Not yet.” She assured Henry all was well with a look. It certainly wasn’t the first time something like that happened. Still, the petite woman went on and on about how Richmond was an idyllic place to raise kids, how the Green was full with cricketers in the summer, how the valley was full of canoe clubs paddling on the Thames. “We also have excellent schools just around the corner.” She painted the location with an almost countryside atmosphere, an earthly paradise.

At the end, the house tour narrowed down to a variety of technical details. Henry made relevant questions regarding electricity, security, maintenance charges and council taxing. Lizzie didn’t hear a word of it — she had her mind very far away from it all. She wandered to the back door leading to the garden entrance where a gentle breeze was blowing, bringing the fresh smell of the woods. Spring weather had always been particularly crazy in London, going from sunny skies to hailstorms in the short space of minutes. Not that day, though. Lizzie sorved the air, the memories of the warm days of her childhood flashing behind her closed eyelids. When she was little, Lizzie and her siblings had enjoyed many sunlit days in Richmond with their father.

Right now, in that landscaped garden where busy bumblebees went about their work, she could picture a couple of kids running around the bushes, chasing a dog or two. In her dreams she always saw a little boy who looked just like her father. She could plant white roses in those flower beds, she thought suddenly. Even some red roses — they deserved their place in the garden too. Lizzie could share many lazy afternoons there with a loved someone by her side.

“Lizzie.” A hand touched her between her shoulder blades, making her jump. “I was calling for you. It’s time to go.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t hear you.” She turned around to face him and his warm hand slowly fell from her back. She almost regretted doing so instead of just… Leaning into the touch.

“Someone is zoning out much, I see?”

His eyes were positively quirky and blue, and a timid smile grew on her face, mirroring his own. “Maybe.”

God, she felt her cheeks burning. She hoped it wasn’t so blatant that only seconds ago she was daydreaming about the house. His future house, if anything else. Something Lizzie knew she had no right to at all.

But Henry seemed oblivious enough. “Come now. We should say goodbye to the agent.”

They left Sheen Road and took the path back to the station. Richmond Green was very close to the town centre, making it a great location next to the array of shops and high-end restaurants. That Sunday the streets were crowded with day trippers and costumers busy about their errands. It suits him, Lizzie thought almost bitterly. Richmond had a posh air to it, but it was not anywhere near as conceited as Kensigton or Chelsea. She could definitely picture Henry moving there. Lizzie sensed a sickening scent of early nostalgia in the air, or maybe it was just the sweetness coming from the hundreds of daffodils that lined up the streets that time of the year.

She took a deep breath and worked up the nerve to put an end to her misery. With a detached voice, she asked Henry whether or not he was going to buy the house. “Not for now, at least.” He said, after a few seconds of silence. “I’ve still got a lot to research before I can make an important decision like that. But I certainly liked the neighbourhood.“ He smiled. “I can see myself living here. I’ll be adding it to my 5-year plan.”

Lizzie felt something akin to relief washing over her, but she disguised her smile by taking a mocking tone. “You’ve got a 5-year plan? Really?” She purposely raised her eyebrows. In fact, she wasn’t even surprised. It was such a Henry thing to have a long plan.

He raised his chin, taking a prideful stance. “Like every responsible adult, yes. I do, missy.”

“I wish I were more… like you. You know, disciplined or— I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I mean, look at you! You’ve got a job already!”

“I have a job offer, which is not at all the same thing. And just because I have one it doesn’t mean it’s my dream job. It doesn’t mean it’s what I would like to do for my whole life.” He paused and turned a curious gaze to her. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

“I’ve thought…” She felt shrieking under his gaze, so she decided to look at random people on the street instead. “I’ve thought about working in education. It was not what I first had in mind, but it sort of feels right at the moment. It’s just an option, though. Nothing’s certain.”

Lizzie had always been told she was good with children. Perhaps she had acquired some skill looking after her young sisters Anne, Catherine and little Bridget. Even Cecily, who was just a few years younger than herself. She had always felt like the responsible big sister when it came to her, much to Cecily’s annoyance.

Lizzie turned her eyes back to Henry and he was listening with a very attentive expression. She held her breath to hear his opinion, but Henry simply blinked at her. “Lizzie, there are only two certain things in this life: death and taxes.”

Her shoulders shook with a soft chuckle, and she felt like relaxing again. Henry went on. “You know what you want to do. It sounds like a plan to me.”

“Blimey, no! It’s not a plan per se.” She laughed at the absurdity of that sentence. “I don’t have my shit together like you.”

“You think I’ve got my shit together, do you?”

“Well, you certainly look like you do!”

Henry winked at her. “Lizzie, it’s all about looking the part. Never let them see your weaknesses. That’s what my uncle always said to me.”

“Them who, though?”

He made a vague gesture with his hands. “Competition.”

Lizzie let out a delighted laugh, her steps bringing her closer to him. It was at that moment that she realised she didn’t feel like going home so soon. She asked him whether he had anything to do later that day. She tensed, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. But Henry only eyed her curiously. “Nothing much. You?” Good. It was so very rare for him to have spare time. They always had to drag him along to social events. So Lizzie proceeded to convince him to go to Richmond Park to watch the deer. “It’s like hunting… minus the animal-killing part and the gore, of course.” It was a favourite pastime of hers during her childhood. Telling Henry it was obligatory to go there on his first visit to Richmond seemed to close the deal.

They found a rental shop to hire a pair of bikes and finally, after some delay and some grub, off they made their way to Richmond Park. The cycle paths took them across fresh fields, under trees full of bare branches giving birth to green leaflets. All around them, life was growing back with a vengeance. It was not hard to find the deer — fallow bucks and does in particular were not shy of human presence. They got off from their bikes to approach the animals, but they couldn’t get to the deer. Many people trying to take pictures blocked their way, crowded as the park was on a Sunday. So Henry and Lizzie kept walking, taking their bikes along the grassy fields to find animals elsewhere. They stopped at a hill with a view to London, named after some king of yore. The exercise seemed to have a good effect on Henry. Lizzie had never seen him looking so peaceful.

“Richmond does good to you.” She remarked, making him turn his eyes to her. “Should I start calling you Monsieur le Comte de Richmond from now on?”

Henry gave her a wolfish smile. “Lizzie, please. Your grace will do.”

“Your grace?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you now? A duke, a king?”

“King of England, of course.”

Lizzie wrinkled her nose at him. “I don’t think old Queen Liz is going to be much pleased to hear it. Nor her son, or her grandson, or her great-grandson for that matter. What if they call you usurper?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ll have a great PR team for that.”

“Well, if you’re going to be king I’ll be queen as well. You can start calling me…” She made a dramatic pause and curtsied with a graceful motion. “Madame la Reine de France!”

Except Henry didn’t find it funny. His face turned serious and he immediately turned from her. “I’m not calling you queen of France.” He began walking again, tugging his bike along. Lizzie hurried after him and laid a hand on the handlebar to make him stop.

“Why not?”

Her eyes challenged him, dared him to tell his reason. Henry only frowned and averted her gaze. As he hesitated still, Lizzie repeated her question. Eventually he let out a sigh and looked at her again. “For one, the French will never accept it. In case you didn’t know, they’re not exactly pro-monarchy.”

“Of course not! But hypothetically speaking, I don’t see any other kingdom to suit me. Do you?”

“I could…” He looked down, sliding a foot on the grass. “I could share England with you… If you wanted.”

“You? Sharing the rule? I’m not familiar with the concept.” She took a teasing tone to dissipate the awkwardness. “We both know you won’t be sharing anything, so stop lying.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably won’t.” He looked back at her and smiled again. Not a completely kind smile. “But you wouldn’t mind it, would you? Leaving the boring stuff to me, and you get the charities and the galas. Come on, you’d love it.”

Lizzie gaped at him. The nerve he had for speaking such! Even if he thought so, even if it was true, he had no right to say it aloud. “You’re an insufferable git sometimes, did you know that?”

His eyes shone with a harsh light, mischievous. “Yes, I can be a bit of an arse. But you like me like that, so what’s your point?”

“You— you bastard! I absolutely don’t—”

Henry began laughing so hard he was seized by a coughing fit. His coughing only increased, making him bend over and almost fold himself in two. Lizzie clutched his arm to shake him, forgetting that only a minute ago she was glaring at him.

“Henry! Henry, what is it?”

“What?” He managed to say between coughs.

“You’re coughing.” A rather matter-of-fact statement, but it was not the first time she had seen him suffer a fit lately. “Henry, have you been smoking again?”

He cleared his throat as his coughing bout subdued. “No, Lizzie. I told you I’ve quit.” In a hushed and quicker voice, though, he added. “I only have one or two fags on occasion.”

“WHAT?”

“Jesus Christ, Lizzie! It’s nothing. It’s probably hayfever.”

“I’m not joking, Henry! You’ve got to see your GP. Did you know that young people can have lung cancer too?” The thought terrified her. Her father had died from a condition in the liver after a lifetime of bad drinking habits. Henry wasn’t anywhere near as stout as her father had been. Lizzie doubted his health could be as enduring.

Henry still looked perplexed at her, like he didn’t understand her concern. She squeezed his arm harder. “Promise me you’ll see your GP.”

He looked at a point over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

She turned around to see a white-spotted fawn grazing some feet away. Lizzie immediately landed her bike on the grass and tried to approach the calf as silently and as carefully as her feet took her. She beckoned Henry forward, but he lingered behind. “Lizzie, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s a miracle baby, Henry! They’re usually not born till late spring. We have to see it.” Henry let out a resigned sigh but followed her anyways, he too taking careful steps to approach the calf. Lizzie couldn’t believe she was about to pet a fawn. Her heart ringed loudly in her ears, she could taste excitement at the tip of her tongue. It was then that she saw it, the mother. This was no fallow deer. It was a large red hind, menacing and monstrous, vapour coming out of its nostrils. It scraped the hooves on the ground, ready to charge.

Lizzie took Henry’s hand, her voice hollow. “We have to go back. Now.”

“What about the bikes?”

The hind let out a long guttural growl. “Forget them! Just run! Run, you fool!”

She yanked him along and sprinted as fast as she could. She didn’t look back to see if the mother was following, but she could hear it galloping behind them. At her side Henry muttered a litany of fucks as they ran. They raced for a few meters before they made a turn at a thick patch of trees and hid behind a trunk, shoulder to shoulder. They were both breathless and disarranged, panting. Lizzie’s hair was all over her face; Henry’s glasses were slipping off the bridge of his nose. Her hand, the one holding his fingers, was sticky with sweat. He let go of that hand. “Shit, Lizzie! We’re never doing this again! The things I do for you, I swear—”

“Shhh! It could hear us.”

Lizzie had never seen Henry so distraught. He tried to put his hair strands in order with a nervous hand, but it clearly wasn’t working. He gave up with a low grunt. “This shit is serious, Lizzie! We could have died, we could have been trampled, gored to death—”

“Shhh!” She repeated, more forcefully this time. To begin with, the hind didn’t even have antlers. But yes, there could be a stag nearby waiting to attack.

Lizzie scooted a bit to the side and stuck her prying head out to look for the red hind. Just like magic, it was nowhere near sight. She turned back to Henry and met his expecting gaze. “It’s gone.” The sentence hung in the air, both of them not quite believing it. They stood frozen for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, chests heaving. They both broke into a grin then. Relief flooded over them and they shared a loud laugh like giddy idiots. She meant to move and hug him — she was half-way into his arms when he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. She fell a step back and disentangled from his embrace.

“That was unexpected!”

Henry yanked the glasses off his face. “Would you please shut up every time I try to kiss you?”

What? She meant to ask him, but he drew her to him again and covered her mouth with his. Surprisingly enough, she found herself pressing closer to him. He seized her by the waist, straightening her in his arms, and she circled her own around his shoulders. He smelled like the sharp scent of the woods mixed with his French cologne. The stubble on his jaw tickled her, not unpleasantly, and she made a low hum on the back of her throat when he sucked on her bottom lip. His glasses slid off his hand and hit the ground behind her with a soft thud as he cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss. As much as Lizzie didn’t want to admit it, Henry knew what he was doing. He slid his tongue inside her mouth for a proper snog, and she lost track of time. She could only think of the weight of his hand on the small of her back, the movements of his mouth on hers. He ended the kiss by gently cradling her head, placing a peck on her lips.

They parted, but a light buzz ringed inside her head as she tried to process what had just happened. Henry, on the contrary, looked perfectly untroubled with a smirk on his face. He bent down to pick up his glasses and calmly wiped them on his shirt, unfazed. “I should’ve done it sooner.” Try as she might, Lizzie couldn’t find the words to contradict him.

A cold swirling wind swept on them. The light fell across the land in purple and orange hues. Night was fast approaching.

“Come, Lizzie.” He took her by the hand. “Let’s go home.”

Since I’ve arrived here in London I’ve been treated with so much kindness from strangers that it’s really difficult to grasp, and I’m so grateful for each one of these people that have helped me with one way or the other, even a simple cheers for giving up my seat at the tube. It’s still hard to understand when certain things work in a country and that there is a feeling of safety about your belongings and your well being when you are out and about that it’s going to hurt to give up when I return.

I’ve also received some pettiness and selfishness but it’s all right. It won’t tilt or skew what I think of this visit. You can’t have everything. But you can learn who to trust.

It was a trying day yesterday and today. I appreciate the people that talked to me today (Paddy, Nat) for making me feel less lonely.

Thank you.

Imagine you're on a game show

((Note: The original of this disappeared from the blog, so I’m resubmitting it so people who liked it can find it again))

You shifted nervously backstage. When you had received a letter in the mail that you would be able to get a cash prize that would cover your university fees in full, you jumped at the chance. But now, you were worried about what you had signed up for. It was the first episode of the game show. Maybe you should have waited until you watched a few contestants from home before deciding to participate.

“Now, are you ready to meet your first contestant?” The host asked. The crowd roared in response.

The woman standing next to you listened to something in her earpiece before ushering you forward, “Good luck,” You weren’t sure if you were just hearing things, but it seemed that it was more of a warning than anything else.

You walked out onto the stage, the crowd growing louder as you approached the host. You were so nervous. You had never been on TV before. You had called your family and told them to watch, hoping that they would be able to see you win a glorious prize.

The host was attractive, tall with dark hair. He had a cute little conversation with you about who you were and why you had joined the show. He was quite charming.

With a flourish, he returned his attention to the audience, “Well then. Are you ready to start the show?” The crowd screamed and waved, “Then let’s get started!” He gestured behind him, where the floor opened up to reveal a chair. You had never seen anything like it. You fidgeted nervously, wondering what it was for. The game show’s synopsis had been vague. You knew that there was some sort of punishment involved, but it hadn’t specified on the form.

The host led you over to the chair. You sat down. Metal bands immediately snapped over your wrists and ankles, keeping you in place. You were surprised, but didn’t fight back. It was probably for your own safety, so you kept still.

“In this show, we have a penalty that’s never been seen before,” The host explained, “First, a little dose of something special,” He revealed a needled syringe, sticking it into your hip and emptying it into your body. At first, nothing happened. After a few seconds, however, you felt your body grow hot. You squirmed in your chair, becoming more and more uncomfortable. You had never been so turned on before. You tried rubbing your thighs together to get rid of the ache, but nothing worked.

“Second, preparation for our show’s penalty,” He brandished a pair of scissors, cutting your clothes from your body. You tried to escape the chair, but you weren’t strong enough. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop, only for him to cover his microphone with his hand, “You signed up for this, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready,” He winked before once again turning to the audience. You couldn’t believe this. You were naked in front of hundreds of people. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You hoped that your family wasn’t watching. Sure, there were plenty of game shows involving nudity, but you hadn’t been prepared for this.

“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” The host held out his arm toward you. The chair suddenly shifted. You were leaned back, your legs spread and knees bent. Your eyes widened, knowing that you were bare for the world to see. You tried to ask the host what was going on, only for something to prod against your entrance. Before you could react, it shoved itself as far as it could go. You cried out, the crowd drinking in your discomfort. You glanced to one of the screens that you could see. It was a tube. You forced yourself to breathe slowly. You were fine. You would win the cash prize.

“Now, it’s time to explain the show we have in store for you,” The host smiled, still so charismatic despite having you in such a compromising position right next to him, “You, my dear little contestant have been injected with a fertility drug. I’m going to ask you twenty questions. For every correct answer, more money will be added to your total. For every wrong answer, you’ll be impregnated.”

You froze, eyes widening. He couldn’t be serious. The crowd was loving it, clearly in on the whole ploy from the start. You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t get pregnant now. You were halfway through university. You wouldn’t be able to continue your education while caring and providing for children.

“Now, the real challenge is the bonus question at the end. If you get it right, you get all of the money you’ve earned and your pregnancy will be reversed. If you get it wrong, then you don’t get the money and you’ll have to carry your baby, or babies, to term. You’ll stay here with us on the show so we can check on your progress every week until you give birth, which will be a special after-show,” The crowd cheered once again, “So, are you ready to begin your quiz?”

You didn’t have a choice. You had signed up for this. The show was live. They wouldn’t let you go now. Besides, you needed that money. The show’s practice questions had all been based on elementary school level classes, so you were bound to get through the questions and get the maximum amount of prize money. You nodded.

“Alright, first question: who founded the Icelandic town of Hofn?”

This had to be some sort of joke. Such a trivial question was the opposite of what had been advertised in the game show’s pamphlet. You stared at the host, his grin only widening as you hesitated. You didn’t know the answer. You doubted anyone in the audience knew that answer.

“We need an answer, sweetheart,” The host gestured to the clock counting down.

You swallowed thickly. You were already off to a horrible start. Maybe they always made one question hard on purpose, just to add a bit of tension. You shook your head, “I-I don’t know.”

The crowd cooed in response, but you knew that they weren’t on your side. They were all fidgeting in their chairs, waiting for your punishment to begin.

“Oh dear,” The host pretended to be upset, though he still seemed as vibrant as ever, “You know what a wrong answer means.”

The chair whirred beneath you, a thick liquid bubbling up the tube and into your entrance. With nowhere for it to go, it moved further into your body. By the time the machine stopped, your belly was slightly distended. You watched the screen fearfully, waiting.

Pressure suddenly overtook your womb, swelling outward. You groaned in pain, a new weight added between your hips. The crowd cheered, some of them already quite aroused.

“Question two…”

They had tricked you. All of the questions were so specific. Even the ones that you thought you had known the answer to were still judged as wrong by some technicality. Each time you answered a question wrong and more fluid was pumped into your womb, your belly rolled outward with yet another child. By the fifth, you were sweaty and squirming as your breasts leaked milk. On the tenth question, the tube had started moving to distract you. They were deliberately sabotaging you. The pace increased whenever you were about to answer, rendering your words useless as your back arched with yet another orgasm. They hooked you up to breast pumps after the fifteenth question, adding further humiliation and arousal. Some of the audience members looked like they were about to jump out of their seats, pull the tube from your entrance, and fuck you until they were empty to add their children to your growing belly.

As a special treat for the audience, the show had a quick raffle after the twentieth question. Those who wanted to participate had to pay in order to get their tickets put into the draw. Men jumped up, emptying their wallets and draining their credit cards. You watched the screen in horror. You were already so full. You had answered all twenty questions wrong. There were twenty babies inside of you. And they wanted to add more. Your womb was filled to the brim. You weren’t sure if another would fit.

The host remained by your side, rubbing his free hand over your stomach as he talked into the microphone to sell more raffle tickets. The contents of your womb were displaced with his touch, the weight moving around. You were gasping for air from both arousal and the heaviness. Each little shift was sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. The tube was still thrusting inside of you, but its pace was lazy. They wouldn’t let you orgasm unless it was beneficial for them. You squirmed. You didn’t know how long the gestation would be, but you already looked heavily pregnant.

“Ah, all of the tickets have been collected, I see,” The host beamed. The same woman that had ushered you on stage carried a bowl full of tickets to the host, who swirled his hand around before pulling a single slip, “Number 2398!”

A man got up from a row close to the front, holding up his own copy of the ticket. He was brought in front of you. You could see the bulge in his pants. He wore a suit that looked more expensive than all of your university expenses combined. His gaze swept over your form, his smirk growing. He could clearly afford to buy countless tickets without putting so much as a dent into his bank accounts.

“You’re quite the lucky man,” The host grinned, “You’ve won the chance to get your own turn with our darling little contestant!”

The rest of the crowd either cheered at the notion of an intimate show or groaned because their ticket hadn’t been chosen. The man in the suit loosened his tie, slipping it from his collar. He unbuttoned his jacket as the tube was pulled from your body. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, only for the man to free himself from his trousers and thrust into you. Your breathing was ragged as he grabbed your hips and moved deeper inside of you. The pace he initiated was slow but rough. You gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to keep yourself grounded and focused on something other than what was buried between your thighs. But the fertility drug you had been dosed with was too potent and the babies rolling around in your stomach were bumping against every sweet spot you didn’t know you had. It wasn’t long before you and the man in the suit were both on the brink of release. His grip on you was bruising as each thrust became harder and deeper. You moaned with every movement. You couldn’t think of anything else but the heavenly orgasm you would have. Your family could be watching in horror as you were fucked on live television, but you merely begged for more.

You cried out, waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs quivered, chest heaving with each breath. Your walls twitched around the man, leading him to his own release. He buried himself to the hilt, the familiar heat pooling against your womb. Your stomach rolled outward again to accommodate your twenty-first child. He removed himself from your body and composed himself, though his hair was still disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his tie.

A bell sounded. You tensed a bit. It was the same noise they had used when you failed to answer a question.

The host frowned, though you could still see the amusement in his eyes, “Oh dear, you were so busy having fun that you were unable to answer the bonus question. That means that you’ve lost our little game. You’re be staying with us and you’ll keep your babies.”

“What?” They had tricked you again. They had distracted you so you wouldn’t be able to answer the question. You would have to carry all of your babies to term. All twenty-one of them. Tears filled your eyes, “No, you can’t-” You were interrupted by the tube once again thrusting into your entrance.

The host smiled, rubbing his hand over your stomach and keeping the microphone away from his face, “There’s just a few terms for your contract here with us. You’ll stay with us and we’ll provide you with everything you need. In exchange, the entire staff and anyone that pays well enough gets to use you however they like,” He winked, “Which includes me. You’ll give birth to all of your little darlings on a live special after the main show. If you go into labor before that, we’re going to keep those babies inside of you until the main show is over. We can’t be cutting into one program to show another,” He smiled, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “We’re also planning on a special season finale. All of the fan favourites will come back to play again with even more at stake. Since you were the first contestant in our show, you’re shoe-in to be selected.”

Two workers began to wheel you off stage, the breasts pumps and tube still whirring. You squirmed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The host waved as you left, then turned back to the audience, “Now, then, for our second contestant of the show!”

Bus Rides- Chapter 23

Fic Masterlist!

Word Count: 1519


Dan’s eyes fluttered awake around noon on Wednesday. They’d lost the morning, but they would make the most of the afternoon. Dan shook Phil awake. “Come on! We’re going to the pool today!”

Phil hopped out of bed and actually rushed along to get ready for the pool. He sat down in the driver’s seat of his car, ready to go. “Okay, give me directions.” Dan led him towards their community pool before suddenly directing Phil onto another road. “Wait, I thought the pool was that way?” 

“We’re not going to the pool.” Dan smiled the sort of smile that said he had something good planned. “We’re going somewhere better.” 

Phil sighed. “But I’m hot!” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that.” Phil wouldn’t stop asking Dan where they were going for the entire two hour ride. He was starting to get mildly annoyed when they finally pulled into the waterpark. 

“Cool! I’ve always wanted to go here,” Phil said, eager to get inside. 

“You’ve never been?” Phil shook his head. “My family went here all the time when I was a kid. It’s probably one of my favorite places.” Both excited to get inside, they climbed out of the car and slathered up in sunscreen. Reaching the entrance, Dan pulled out a wad of cash he saved up for the week. He paid for their tickets, grabbing Phil’s hand and pulling him into the waterpark. Phil looked around at all the rides in awe. 

To his left was a terrifying slide where you’re free falling for ten feet before plummeting into a pool underneath. To his right was a calm wave pool. Straight ahead, and surrounded by a lazy river, was a towering castle filled with dumping buckets and spray nozzles. It was meant for children, but many adults were running around as well. Phil looked up to see dozens of different waterslides towering over them. He was amazed. “Where do you want to go first?” Phil shook his head, breaking out of his trance and returning to reality. Dan’s question rang in his mind, puzzling him.

“Let’s go to the wave pool first, just to go get wet, and then figure it out.”


“You little shit!” Dan splashed Phil back, trying to rub the water out of his eyes. 

“Children!” Phil screamed, gesturing towards the multiple kids in the crowded wave pool. 

Dan moved close to Phil’s face. “You little jerk.” The two burst out laughing together. Keeping the profanity to a minimum was never one of Dan’s strong suits. The two kept splashing each other, ignoring the whistles sounding all around them. 

“HEY!” Multiple whistles sounded at the same time, and the two finally looked up. “Stop splashing each other!” 

“Oh. Sorry,” Dan yelled at the angry lifeguard towering over them. Dan and Phil decided it was a good time to leave the wave pool. 

They ventured over to a group of tube slides, stopping and staring at the double tubes. “Are you going to get one?” Dan asked. 

“Why don’t you get one?”

“This is literally the dumbest thing we’ve ever fought over.” Dan picked up a tube, holding the back half out to Phil. “We’ll carry it together.” And so they walked up the stairs, both of them running out of breath after a couple flights. “Are we really this out of shape?” Dan panted. They continued on, and ran into a line after a couple more flights. The top platform was nowhere in sight. 

“I hate lines.” Phil panted, now even more tired from the July sun beating down on his pale skin. For half an hour they waited in the queue to finally reach the top of the stairs. There were three slides to choose from; one was yellow, one was green, and one was red. The red one looked dark, so they vetoed it immediately. The green one was only for single riders, so they couldn’t ride it. That left the yellow. It had the longest line, but it was the only acceptable choice, so they waited just a little while longer before taking their seats in the tube and being pushed off down the slide. 

They took off quickly, rushing down the first few chutes. Everything was going well, until suddenly they came to a cliff. Their movement slowed as they approached the edge of the slide. “What the hell is this?” Finally reaching the end, they dove into a whirlpool. The slide whooshed them around in circles, throwing water over their heads and up their noses. Finally, they went down the final chute backwards and coughing up chlorine. The two climbed out of the exit pool and looked up at the obvious whirlpool structure in the slide they had just gone down. “Welp,” Dan said. “We probably should have paid more attention to that before we went on the ride.” 

They mutually decided to take a break and get a drink to wash out the pool water filling their lungs and burning their throats. Instead, they ended up getting ice cream. Phil’s superman ice cream melted together into an aesthetic rainbow swirl in the hot sun as Dan ate his simple chocolate. When they finished, Phil had an idea. “Why don’t we go in the lazy river? We’ll be able to relax and digest while also not burning in the sun.” 

Dan shrugged. “Works for me.” So they got tubes and climbed in. Dan stayed alert, remembering from past visits that the lazy river had a few twists, but Phil closed his eyes and let the water take him. Dan chuckled as they found their way to a particular part of the river Phil would probably wish he was prepared for. Dan moved his tube a bit to the right and simply waited. The huge bucked dumped right on top of Phil, lurching him back to life. Dan was howling with laughter.

“Shut up,” Phil coughed. “I’m out of here.” 

“Well, what do you want to do?” 

Phil smirked. “I have an idea…” He hesitated. “But it’s kinda stupid, immature, and sadistic.” 

“Everything I’m about.” Dan said, laughing. “Let’s go.” 


Dan stood over a bucket, holding it in place. It was positioned over the small slide at the bottom of the castle of buckets. The bucket was overflowing, ready to dump. “Ready?” Dan nodded. Phil was on lookout and Dan was dumping. A young girl went down the slide, and Dan didn’t dump the bucket. Her father followed soon after, and he let go of the bucket, allowing it to soak the man. “Quick, duck!” The two hid behind the railing so the man wouldn’t see them. “Nice one, Dan. Switch?” 

The two switched positions and carried on their sadistic operation. “This is more fun than I thought it would be.” Dan laughed. They continued dumping water on unsuspecting parents until Dan finally forgot to duck down and hide. A huge, angry man stared him in the eye and started back up the steps towards them. “Uh, Phil?” 

Quickly, they took a side exit and escaped into the crowd, sitting on their beach chairs. “That’s what, the second time we’ve nearly gotten kicked out of this waterpark today?” Phil said with a smile. 

“Sounds about right.” Dan laughed. 

Phil pulled his phone from their bag, checking the time. “Oh, wow. The park will be closing soon. Maybe we should get going.” 

“Probably. But I want to do one last thing.” 

“What?” 

Dan smirked, pointing to the free falling slide. “That.” 

Phil’s face lost whatever color it had, his eyes filling with pure terror. “That?” 

“C’mon! You can do it! It’s like flying.” Dan was already standing. 

“Last time we ‘flew’, I threw up.” 

“This is a split second. Please?” Dan was giving Phil the puppy dog eyes. Nobody could say no to that. 

“Fine.” 

A few minutes later, they were side by side on the ledge. There were two slides, and they planned to go at the same time on each of them. The slide was but a few feet long, so they’d slide down and then go airborne for a little while before splashing down in the pool below. “Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” Phil was shaking. 

“1.” 

“2.” 

And together, they shouted, “3!” Each of them pushed off, flinging their bodies into the air. For the split second they were there, the wind rushed through their hair, chilling their bodies. But suddenly they collided with the water, which spread warmth through their veins. After climbing out of the pool, they agreed that would be their final thrill. 


Dried off and fully clothed, Dan and Phil climbed into the car. The clock read 7:13. “It’s so late! I didn’t even know the park was open that late. We’ll have to drive home in the dark.” Phil seemed concerned, but Dan was simply smiling. 

“But Phil, we’re not going home.”

“Where are we going?” 

“Hotel.” 

“Oh no.” 

Dan smirked. “This town’s got a whole lot more to offer.” He pointed out the hotel for Phil to drive to, down the street. “Should be enough to keep us entertained tomorrow.” And so they stayed into Thursday. 

Watch on bikedweeb.tumblr.com

(via Kalavinka Sunset | instagram | website Final design collabor… | Flickr)

Kalavinka Sunset

Final design collaboration build with Tanabesan of Kalavinka Cycles here in Tokyo. I revamped some of his logos and collaborated on some shirt designs in return for this frame. The top tube decal I created for the shirts that eventually we decided to use for this. The lady on the seat tube I found from the depths of the shop and chopped off some surrounding designs to simplify it.

The senjafuda on the fork is my japanese family name with the words ‘konjo’ meaning spirit and 'dokyo’ for courage.

The omamori on the seat is for 'victory’.

Meeting on the Train (Joe Sugg Imagine)

Can you do one where y/n is on a bus and she is alone and Joe asks if he can sit next to her. It’s not much but yeah

can u do one where he meets y/n on the tube or something like that please x

——————————-

You sat down on a free seat in the tube and took out your laptop. You were on your way home from college in London and to your home in Brighton. Even though you were 23 years old, you still lived at home, which were nice but quite inconvenient as you were studying in London. Getting an affordable flat in London was absolutely impossible so for now you were living with your parents in Brighton. You opened up your homework and started writing on your computer, totally disappearing into your own little world.

“Can I sit here?” a voice suddenly asked and you looked up from your computer and to the person asking. A slim guy with blonde fluffy hair and light blue eyes stood in front of you with a cute smile. He looked around the same age as you and he looked really polite.

“Of course,” you answered, which made the guy smile even more before he placed himself on the seat in front of you. You looked back on your computer but you had a hard time concentrating because you could feel the blonde guy’s eyes on you. You decided to look back at him and your eyes met, which made both of you smile.

“I’m Joe by the way,” the guy then said and you smiled at him before taking the hand he had put out in front of him.

“I’m Y/N,” you answered as you shook hands. As you had guessed, he was really polite.

“Where are you heading? If you don’t mind me asking,” Joe then asked and you smiled at him once again.

“I’m just going home to Brighton. I’m studying in London so I’m taking this train every day,” you said with a little laugh and Joe nodded impressed.

“So you’re in college?” He asked interested and you nodded.

“Yep, english and psychology,” you said and Joe looked impressed at you with a smile.

“That sounds really interesting!” Joe said and you nodded with a grin.

“It is. Are you studying or working or…?” you asked as you were beginning to get quite interested in this sweet guy in front of you. He looked pretty fit as well.

“No, I used to be a roof thatcher but then I started making videos on youtube,” Joe said, and now it was your turn to nod impressed.

“I’ve heard about the whole youtube community, that’s really cool!” you answered and you could see Joe got flattered.

“I’m not one of the cool ones though,” Joe said with a fake pout, which made you laugh.

“I can tell you are,” you said and you were surprised at how flirty you sounded.

“Oh stop it,” Joe said and his face expression made you laugh again. You were really starting to like this guy.

“So where are you going? If you dont mind me asking,” you asked with a cheeky smile, which made Joe chuckle.

“To Brighton too actually. And dont worry. I’m not a creepy stalker or anything. I’m visiting my sister and her boyfriend,” Joe said with a smile and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh really? I would’ve guessed stalker,” you said sarcastically, which made Joe laugh.

“You’re quite a funny girl, “Y/N” Joe said and you could feel yourself blush as you smiled.

For the rest of the train journey you kept chatting and laughing, and you really liked him. He was so charismatic and funny, and you had gotten to know each other really well during the train ride. You had gotten to know more about the whole youtube thing and his family, and he had gotten to know about your family as well, your studies and just your daily life in general. When the next stop was announced and the train lady said Brighton you almost felt disappointed that you had to leave.

“That was the quickest this journey has ever been,” you said with a smile and Joe nodded in agreement.

“Time flies when you’re in good company,” Joe said in a flirty tone and you blushed again.

“It certainly does,” you answered as you put your laptop down in your bag again.

“I’m sorry if I distracted you from school work or anything,” Joe suddenly said with a worrying look and you shook your head with a smile.

“Dont worry. I wouldn’t have been productive anyways. The laptop is only there to make me look like I’m actually cool and doing something with my life,” you said, which made Joe laugh.

“I’m totally the same,” Joe said with a laugh, which made you laugh as well.

The train arrived at Brighton station and you both gathered your things and got up from your seats. You walked towards the doors together and when the train stopped you exited the train.

“So will I ever see you again?” Joe asked, which made you turn around and look at him.

“I hope so,” you answered with red cheeks and a smile.

“I’m gonna ask really awkward for your number and hope you won’t give me a fake one,” Joe then said and you stopped to look at him with a laugh.

“Why would I give you a fake one?” you asked with a laugh and Joe looked you in the eyes as he gave you his phone.

“You’re way more cooler than me,” Joe said and his words made your belly tickle and you laughed out loud.

“I’m not too sure about that. I’m not the one who is famous on youtube,” you said with a cheeky smile, which made Joe laugh again. You put your number in his phone before giving it back to him.

“There you go,” you said with a smile, and Joe smiled as well.

“As mentioned I’m not very cool so you will probably get a text from me later today,” Joe said and once again he made you laugh.

“Playing hard to get is boring anyways, right?” you answered with a smile and Joe smiled at you with admiration.

“I like your thinking,” Joe said with flirty eyes and for a second you disappeared into them. They were absolutely beautiful.

“My mom is picking me up, so I have to leave,” you said as you realized what time it was.

“Sure. It was a pleasure to meet you and I’m definitely going to see you again,” Joe said as he took my hand and kissed it like in the old movies. You blushed and laughed at his actions.

“I can’t wait,” you said before you started to walk away still with your eyes locked with Joe’s. Eventually you turned around with a smile and walked towards the exit. You could feel Joe’s eyes on you, which made you smile to yourself. You couldn’t wait for him to text you because you knew you had to see this guy again.      

Break the Laws of Love

Summary: Dan just wants to go home. His day has been long and exhausting and he’s tired, damnit. But then he sees a man on the tube dressed in the exact same clothes he’s wearing. What will happen through a meeting a pure coincidence, and will Dan finally be able to get the happy ending he’s dreamed of?

Tags/warnings: Nothing, just fluff!

Word count: 6,792

A/N: This started just from the prompt of “wearing the same outfit on the metro” and I really don’t know what happened but it evolved into this. (Also had this proposal trope I really wanted to use but shhhh spoilers) Read on ao3

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(via Hunter “Rough Rider” | Hunter Cycles “Rough Rider” Seat Tube… | Flickr)

Double Agent (Avengers x reader)

Request:  price-is-rite said:First off I love your writing. You may already have a lot of requests but I was wondering if you could do one where all the Avengers go to a water park? Thanks!

Here you go, love!  I hope you like it!  THANK YOU so much!!

As you walked into the common room of the tower, you noticed Natasha looking intently at a computer screen, rapidly scrolling thru pages of information.  Clint was behind her, leaning over to read what she was finding and discussing whatever they were looking at with animated expressions and gestures.  Whatever they were working on, it looked intense.

“No, that’s a terrible idea.”  Nat said as she leaned back in her chair and pointed at the screen, “travel time alone will take up too much of the day.  We want to get there before all the rugrats take over.”

“Okay, valid point.” Clint paused to move to another screen, “hey, here’s one!  96 acres of rides, slides and pools, and the kiddie section is on it’s own.  And look, it’s just over in Long Island.”  

Now your curiosity was in full force, wanting to know what was going on.  “Can one of you please tell me what has you so intrigued over here?” You moved so that you too could look over Nat’s shoulder and saw that the two of the most feared master assassins known were planning a trip to a local water park.  “The way you two were going on, I was sure you were planning our next mission.”

“Oh, we are.”

~~~

The Avengers would be split into teams, working together to overtake the other.  Marking your target as dead or captured would be identified by taking their park bracelet so they would no longer be allowed to participate on the premises and would be forced to sit out.  No one would be permitted to bring any gear or use their powers, and civilian safety was of the utmost importance.  The team who either took out the other completely or had the most bracelets collected by park close would be the winner.

“Why is it that we can never just go somewhere and have fun like normal people?” you grumbled as you hopped from the back of Steve’s motorcycle.  

“Sweetheart, do we look like normal people?”

You laughed as you removed your outer clothing to reveal your swimsuit, pausing to enjoy the feeling of the sun beating against your skin, “Point taken.  It’s not fair that you and I were split into opposite teams though.  How am I supposed to be expected to take out my beautiful boyfriend?”  Your eyes followed as Steve removed his t-shirt, exposing is muscular form.

“You’re staring.”  

After a few seconds you were startled out of your trance, “Hmmm…um, what?”

Steve grabbed your waist and pulled you against his chest.  “Like what you see?”

Looking up at him, you stood on your toes to whisper in his ear, softly grazing your lips against his cheek, “baby, I’m just deciding how I’m gonna take you down.”  You pulled away, pushing against his chest to release his grip.  

A low growl came from him, his eyes looking at you intensely, “I can’t wait.”

“Alright, you two break it up.  You’re supposed to be mortal enemies, remember?  You can’t go into this compromised or you’re useless to me, (Y/N).” Natasha handed you your park bracelet, smirking as she looked at Steve, “you ready to be beaten by a girl, Rogers?”

He nodded silently, still looking at you.  “I’ve never been more ready, Romanoff.”

~~~

The teams were split with Captains Steve and Tony; Steve’s team was made of Clint, Sam, Wanda, Bruce and Thor.  Tony’s team was you, Nat, Bucky, Pietro, and Vision.  After a five minute head start, the game was on.  Your team split up immediately, using comms to communicate. It didn’t take long for those who were there for fun to be separated from those who were out for blood and glory. Over the course of the first hour, the teams were reduced to Steve and Clint against Tony, Nat, and you.  

“How has no one found Hawkeye yet?  Look high, guys.”  

“Stark, don’t you think he’s going to be expecting that?”  Nat said with an annoyed tone to her voice.  You could tell she was pissed that she hadn’t taken out her best friend yet. “I’ll take the Hawk, you two take Flag Boy.”

You could hear Tony snicker at her choice in name for Steve, “Atta girl.  That one’s added to my vocabulary for sure.  Alright, (Y/N), you up for this?  Got any inside info on that boyfriend of yours?”

“Yeah, he’s right behind you.”  

Shaking your head at the sound of Steve’s voice in your comm, you laughed as you heard him take Tony’s bracelet and the continuous whining from your team’s former leader. “(Y/N), I’m counting on you to take him down, you hear me?”

“Yes, boss.”  

You quickly moved to take the high ground, looking for both your last teammate and Steve from the top of the highest slide at the center of the park.  Finding two spies amidst a crowd wasn’t going to be easy, but a man of Steve’s size should be a bit more manageable.  

“Ma’am, I’m afraid you can’t stand there.”  You spun around to see Clint reaching out to grab your arm, but you pulled away quickly and dropped low to swing your leg and kick the back of his knees.  As he fell forward you moved behind him to hold his legs down with your own, pulling his arms behind him so you would remove his bracelet.

“Nat, what the hell? I thought you were on Hawkeye?” Clint tried to fight as you pulled at his bracelet, but to no avail.  “Stop fighting, Clint.  You lost, just accept it.”

Steve’s deep voice was again in your ear, “She can’t talk right now, baby.”

You were laughing out loud now, but quieted as you looked at the shocked faces of the people waiting in line for the slide, watching as you struggled to hold Clint to the ground.

“He was trying to cut in line.  Let him be a lesson to you kids.”

~~~

After following Clint to the bottom of the slide, you stepped cautiously out of the pool, looking for Steve.  “Alright, Barton.  Out you go.”

“Just so you know, this was all Nat’s idea.  I just wanted a day out.”

“Go.  I’m busy.”  As Clint sulked away, you glanced at the map of the park on a nearby wall.  You were at the center of the park, so really any direction could potentially run you right into Steve.  You were the final two, so there were no worries about anyone else being on the hunt.

“River.”

Steve’s command had you moving quickly towards the lazy river that ran thru the park.  As you reached the entrance you saw him approaching, smiling to yourself as you saw the park patrons staring at him as he passed. It happened to him so often now that he never even took notice.

“Nice work, my dear. It’s down to just us two.”

“Same to you, doll. Shall we?”

Steve grabbed a large inner tube and threw it into the water.  He threw you over his shoulder and jumped in, seating himself on the tube with you on his lap.  “I think we’ve earned a little relaxation, don’t you?”

“That’s what they get for splitting us up.”

After an hour floating around the park, enjoying the warm sun, cool water, and rare quiet time together, you both decided it was probably time to go and to let your team off the hook from waiting for you.  When you approached the park entrance, you couldn’t help but laugh at the group of superheroes, sitting together with defeated looks on their faces.  

“Look at them.  I kinda feel bad.”

“Don’t worry about them, babe,” you said, “they knew what they were getting into.”  

Steve shrugged his shoulders in agreement, reaching down to remove his bracelet before exiting the park. You reached out your hand to take it from him.  “Here, I’ll take care of that for you.”  He handed it to you without hesitation.

“Oh, babe.  That was too easy.  I might need to try this ‘double agent’ thing more often.”  You waved his bracelet in the air, running towards the team. “Hey, Tony!  We won!”

Love Letters To A Stranger, Part 2

Title: Love Letters To A Stranger, Part 2

Chapter/One Shot: Part 2 of something that started as a One Shot :)

Genre: Fluff/Romance

Rating: K

Author’s Notes: I didn’t intend for this to be longer and I am so surprised at the interest in the the original one shot!  People were asking about a continuation, so here is Part 2.  I hope you enjoy it!  Here is Part 1 if you would like to re-read it first.

He stepped off the train.

He took a few strides in the direction of his usual exit and then halted abruptly.

GET BACK ON!

Without stopping to think about where that voice had come from, he immediately ran to the next car and snuck in right as the doors were closing, having to turn his body sideways to fit through. 

Now what?

He looked to the end of the car at the connecting doors.  It wasn’t a perfectly clear view, but he could see through the glass and just make her out.  She was sitting with the bag on her lap, holding it just like she often did with a book.  Her lids had fluttered closed and her fingertips were running over the paper as if she was reading it without the use of her eyes.  Green.  They were green.  He had noticed them when he handed her the gift.  Green like the rolling hills of his home on a lush late summer afternoon.

Eventually she opened those eyes and reached into the bag.  For the next twenty minutes, he watched her, absolutely transfixed.

It was an entirely different experience than watching her read a book. 

Those were just books.  Just black markings on a page.

These?

These were pieces of him.

Pieces of his mind.

Pieces of his heart.

When she opened the first envelope, a strange sensation of nervousness was tingling through him like pins and needles.

He realized that he was almost trembling a bit in excitement, almost standing on tiptoe in childlike anticipation of her reaction.

She opened that first envelope, and each subsequent one, with gentle care, treating the paper with what appeared to be a sort of reverence.  That alone made the breath hitch in his throat.

Removing the folded yellow sheets with the same respect, she delicately smoothed out the paper and let her palm glide over it.  Her gaze shifted just a bit and he guessed that she was looking for his name first.  When he saw her smile and mouth “Tom,” he was guess was confirmed.  He didn’t realize that she had been leaning forward until she settled back against the hard plastic of the tube seat and began to read the letters. 

It was an odd thing, to desire the approval of a stranger like this.  He had seen her cry and laugh and react to words before, he had witnessed how they thrilled her.  He wanted the same thing for the words he had written to her, for her, and about her.  He wanted to see her shoulders shake while she stifled a giggled.  He wanted to see her little fingers brush away a tear.  He wanted to see her be so overcome that she had to stop reading for a moment.  He wanted those things.  He wanted to inspire them.  He wanted to see them.  He needed to see them. 

Even though he hadn’t let himself look back and edit the letters or even read them once he finished them, he could remember most of them in detail.  As she read the second one and giggled for the first time, his brain sifted through the data and he remembered that he had included his first pun, one about an author that he had seen her read more than once. 

She laughed.

He remembered how he felt as a child when his dad use to grip his hands and spin him around and around so that he was parallel to the ground, giggling and flying through the air until they were both dizzy and collapsed onto the carpet. 

That was this.

He made her laugh.

He did.

Not some faceless writer who would never see her emerald eyes or hear her sweet voice or know her name or –

But.

But he didn’t know her name.

He didn’t even know her name.

She was a stranger to him.

The unexpected pang of discomfort made him shift his position and lean against the side of the car, as if that could ease the rising storm of currently unclassifiable emotions that were swirling around inside him.

It was the fourth letter that drew the first tears.

What was in that one?

Ah, yes, the anecdote about his childhood. 

I remember my grandmother reading to me while I sat at her feet and helped her ball yarn.  She always had a Bible or something from C.S. Lewis or someone similar on her little sewing table and would open it randomly.  I don’t know exactly how, but I remembered a favorite quote from one of those authors.  I confess, I had to do a quick search on the internet to discover that it is by G. K. Chesterton.

“Men always talk about the most important things to perfect strangers.”

You, little blue stocking, are my perfect stranger.

When she folded that fourth one and delicately returned it to the envelope and then proceeded to adjust her bag and stand, it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought past the act of watching her read them.

What now?

She was getting off.

She was going to leave.

My blue stocking.

My perfect stranger.

Thoughts seemed to fly through my brain at a rapid speed.

She’s going to think you’re a crazy stalker.

NO, SHE WON’T!

Do not try to follow her, mate.

FOLLOW HER!

You’re going to be out of the country for months.

IT’S HER COUNTRY, SHE CAN VISIT!

She could be married or in a relationship.

DON’T WASTE TIME!

She could be a judo expert.  She might crush your windpipe.  You’ll never act again.

YOU’RE BEING RIDICULOUS.  JUST INTRODUCE YOURSELF.

You don’t even know her name.  She didn’t tell you what it is.  That must have been deliberate.

I stepped off the train.

I couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t wise.  I didn’t want to frighten her.  I didn’t want to leave her with a terrible memory.  I would leave with her a pile of love letters from a stranger and would always remain as such to her, something she could think of for years to come and remember with a sigh about what might have been.

Yes.

That was the only wise way.

I purposely hung back and let the crowd pass, seeing her pink coat disappear into the sea of passengers.  I waited a few more minutes, just to be safe, and in the process I remembered that one of my favorite cafes was just a few blocks from this station.  Might as well stop for a cuppa and give myself a talking to about proper behavior, which most definitely does not include following strangers and potentially scaring them out of their wits.

It was summer and still light outside when I emerged from the station.  The fresh air helped me clear my head and I began to feel horribly embarrassed about what I had one.  Of course it was harmless to me, but she wouldn’t have any proof of what kind of person I was other than the contents of my letters, and those could have been complete and utter falsities.  I knew I had a tendency to become single-minded, rather dogged in my preparation for a role, but I had never let it push me this far previously.  Endangering another person or even giving them cause to think that they were in danger was simply unacceptable. 

I was in the process of mentally calling myself every name in my arsenal of insults as I entered the café when a soft voice made me freeze in my tracks.

“Tom?”

I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t turn around. 

“Tom, I thought you got off the train?”

I didn’t know my heart could speed up so rapidly in a few seconds.

It was time to face the music and dance.

I willed myself to turn and face her.

She was looking at me with those emerald eyes and a tense smile, but a smile, nonetheless.

I swallowed.

“Yes, I did.  But I got back on.  I am so sorry.  I am so sorry.  I wanted to see you read them.  I shouldn’t have done that.  I didn’t know you would be here.  I am so sorry.”

I was moving to head back to the doors and run away, run far far away and hope to feel like a sensible human being again one day.

But one of her little hands reached out to grasp at mine and I stopped: however, I was still facing the doors, facing away from her.  I couldn’t face her.  I had never been more embarrassed in my entire life.

“Tom, will you please look at me?”

I complied immediately.

I could see that she was feeling nervous and was completely aware of how awkward this situation was.

She smiled again, this time it was fuller and brighter and now I couldn’t look away.

“The letters are beautiful.  Thank you.  Thank you for the…”

Her already rosy cheeks were quickly turning a shade or two closer to red.

“Thank you for the lovely things you wrote about me.”

SAY SOMETHING!

“You’re welcome.”

Oh, that was brilliant. 

She licked her lips and took a deep breath.

“I’ve only read a few of them, but I already know so much about you.  You don’t know anything about me.   Do you…do you want to know something about me the way that I know things about you, the way that you shared yourself with me?  You can refuse and I will understand.”

Her voice was brimming with hesitancy and hope; she was giving me an out in the form of that question in case I wasn’t interested.  After all, I had said “Goodbye” to her when I gave her the bag; perhaps she was thinking that was the end on my part, a word signaling the finality of what I wanted to give.  She was stepping out a limb for me.

I was so happy in that moment, I wanted to do a cartwheel right there in the café.

You’ve been granted a reprieve, old thing.  Don’t waste it.

“Well, since you’re offering, I would like to know if you would forgive me for…for…”               

For being forward.  For being -

“Yes,” she answered with a smile, stopping me from berating myself again and inspiring me with a rush of gratitude that she hadn’t tried to finish my sentence.

“And…I would love to know your name.”

She offered me a hand.

“Hi, Tom.  I’m Elinor.  Now we are no longer strangers.”

I took her little hand in mine.

Maybe not.  But I’m still going to write you love letters.

i hate those fake tube seat badges, like “food baby on board” or “don’t talk to me” with the little tube logo, the point of the real badges is to be immediately recognisable when someone is pregnant or has an invisible illness/disability, you shouldn’t have to assess whether or not it’s a joke, and they just give shitty people more of an excuse to delegitimise the real ones >:(

Imagine being on a game show

You shifted nervously backstage. When you had received a letter in the mail that you would be able to get a cash prize that would cover your university fees in full, you jumped at the chance. But now, you were worried about what you had signed up for. It was the first episode of the game show. Maybe you should have waited until you watched a few contestants from home before deciding to participate.

“Now, are you ready to meet your first contestant?” The host asked. The crowd roared in response.

The woman standing next to you listened to something in her earpiece before ushering you forward, “Good luck,” You weren’t sure if you were just hearing things, but it seemed that it was more of a warning than anything else.

You walked out onto the stage, the crowd growing louder as you approached the host. You were so nervous. You had never been on TV before. You had called your family and told them to watch, hoping that they would be able to see you win a glorious prize.

The host was attractive, tall with dark hair. He had a cute little conversation with you about who you were and why you had joined the show. He was quite charming.

With a flourish, he returned his attention to the audience, “Well then. Are you ready to start the show?” The crowd screamed and waved, “Then let’s get started!” He gestured behind him, where the floor opened up to reveal a chair. You had never seen anything like it. You fidgeted nervously, wondering what it was for. The game show’s synopsis had been vague. You knew that there was some sort of punishment involved, but it hadn’t specified on the form.

The host led you over to the chair. You sat down. Metal bands immediately snapped over your wrists and ankles, keeping you in place. You were surprised, but didn’t fight back. It was probably for your own safety, so you kept still.

“In this show, we have a penalty that’s never been seen before,” The host explained, “First, a little dose of something special,” He revealed a needled syringe, sticking it into your hip and emptying it into your body. At first, nothing happened. After a few seconds, however, you felt your body grow hot. You squirmed in your chair, becoming more and more uncomfortable. You had never been so turned on before. You tried rubbing your thighs together to get rid of the ache, but nothing worked.

“Second, preparation for our show’s penalty,” He brandished a pair of scissors, cutting your clothes from your body. You tried to escape the chair, but you weren’t strong enough. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop, only for him to cover his microphone with his hand, “You signed up for this, sweetheart. I hope you’re ready,” He winked before once again turning to the audience. You couldn’t believe this. You were naked in front of hundreds of people. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You hoped that your family wasn’t watching. Sure, there were plenty of game shows involving nudity, but you hadn’t been prepared for this.

“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” The host held out his arm toward you. The chair suddenly shifted. You were leaned back, your legs spread and knees bent. Your eyes widened, knowing that you were bare for the world to see. You tried to ask the host what was going on, only for something to prod against your entrance. Before you could react, it shoved itself as far as it could go. You cried out, the crowd drinking in your discomfort. You glanced to one of the screens that you could see. It was a tube. You forced yourself to breathe slowly. You were fine. You would win the cash prize.

“Now, it’s time to explain the show we have in store for you,” The host smiled, still so charismatic despite having you in such a compromising position right next to him, “You, my dear little contestant have been injected with a fertility drug. I’m going to ask you twenty questions. For every correct answer, more money will be added to your total. For every wrong answer, you’ll be impregnated.”

You froze, eyes widening. He couldn’t be serious. The crowd was loving it, clearly in on the whole ploy from the start. You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t get pregnant now. You were halfway through university. You wouldn’t be able to continue your education while caring and providing for children.

“Now, the real challenge is the bonus question at the end. If you get it right, you get all of the money you’ve earned and your pregnancy will be reversed. If you get it wrong, then you don’t get the money and you’ll have to carry your baby, or babies, to term. You’ll stay here with us on the show so we can check on your progress every week until you give birth, which will be a special after-show,” The crowd cheered once again, “So, are you ready to begin your quiz?”

You didn’t have a choice. You had signed up for this. The show was live. They wouldn’t let you go now. Besides, you needed that money. The show’s practice questions had all been based on elementary school level classes, so you were bound to get through the questions and get the maximum amount of prize money. You nodded.

“Alright, first question: who founded the Icelandic town of Hofn?”

This had to be some sort of joke. Such a trivial question was the opposite of what had been advertised in the game show’s pamphlet. You stared at the host, his grin only widening as you hesitated. You didn’t know the answer. You doubted anyone in the audience knew that answer.

“We need an answer, sweetheart,” The host gestured to the clock counting down.

You swallowed thickly. You were already off to a horrible start. Maybe they always made one question hard on purpose, just to add a bit of tension. You shook your head, “I-I don’t know.”

The crowd cooed in response, but you knew that they weren’t on your side. They were all fidgeting in their chairs, waiting for your punishment to begin.

“Oh dear,” The host pretended to be upset, though he still seemed as vibrant as ever, “You know what a wrong answer means.”

The chair whirred beneath you, a thick liquid bubbling up the tube and into your entrance. With nowhere for it to go, it moved further into your body. By the time the machine stopped, your belly was slightly distended. You watched the screen fearfully, waiting.

Pressure suddenly overtook your womb, swelling outward. You groaned in pain, a new weight added between your hips. The crowd cheered, some of them already quite aroused.

“Question two…”

They had tricked you. All of the questions were so specific. Even the ones that you thought you had known the answer to were still judged as wrong by some technicality. Each time you answered a question wrong and more fluid was pumped into your womb, your belly rolled outward with yet another child. By the fifth, you were sweaty and squirming as your breasts leaked milk. On the tenth question, the tube had started moving to distract you. They were deliberately sabotaging you. The pace increased whenever you were about to answer, rendering your words useless as your back arched with yet another orgasm. They hooked you up to breast pumps after the fifteenth question, adding further humiliation and arousal. Some of the audience members looked like they were about to jump out of their seats, pull the tube from your entrance, and fuck you until they were empty to add their children to your growing belly.

As a special treat for the audience, the show had a quick raffle after the twentieth question. Those who wanted to participate had to pay in order to get their tickets put into the draw. Men jumped up, emptying their wallets and draining their credit cards. You watched the screen in horror. You were already so full. You had answered all twenty questions wrong. There were twenty babies inside of you. And they wanted to add more. Your womb was filled to the brim. You weren’t sure if another would fit.

The host remained by your side, rubbing his free hand over your stomach as he talked into the microphone to sell more raffle tickets. The contents of your womb were displaced with his touch, the weight moving around. You were gasping for air from both arousal and the heaviness. Each little shift was sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. The tube was still thrusting inside of you, but its pace was lazy. They wouldn’t let you orgasm unless it was beneficial for them. You squirmed. You didn’t know how long the gestation would be, but you already looked heavily pregnant.

“Ah, all of the tickets have been collected, I see,” The host beamed. The same woman that had ushered you on stage carried a bowl full of tickets to the host, who swirled his hand around before pulling a single slip, “Number 2398!”

A man got up from a row close to the front, holding up his own copy of the ticket. He was brought in front of you. You could see the bulge in his pants. He wore a suit that looked more expensive than all of your university expenses combined. His gaze swept over your form, his smirk growing. He could clearly afford to buy countless tickets without putting so much as a dent into his bank accounts.

“You’re quite the lucky man,” The host grinned, “You’ve won the chance to get your own turn with our darling little contestant!”

The rest of the crowd either cheered at the notion of an intimate show or groaned because their ticket hadn’t been chosen. The man in the suit loosened his tie, slipping it from his collar. He unbuttoned his jacket as the tube was pulled from your body. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, only for the man to free himself from his trousers and thrust into you. Your breathing was ragged as he grabbed your hips and moved deeper inside of you. The pace he initiated was slow but rough. You gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to keep yourself grounded and focused on something other than what was buried between your thighs. But the fertility drug you had been dosed with was too potent and the babies rolling around in your stomach were bumping against every sweet spot you didn’t know you had. It wasn’t long before you and the man in the suit were both on the brink of release. His grip on you was bruising as each thrust became harder and deeper. You moaned with every movement. You couldn’t think of anything else but the heavenly orgasm you would have. Your family could be watching in horror as you were fucked on live television, but you merely begged for more.

You cried out, waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your legs quivered, chest heaving with each breath. Your walls twitched around the man, leading him to his own release. He buried himself to the hilt, the familiar heat pooling against your womb. Your stomach rolled outward again to accommodate your twenty-first child. He removed himself from your body and composed himself, though his hair was still disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his tie.

A bell sounded. You tensed a bit. It was the same noise they had used when you failed to answer a question.

The host frowned, though you could still see the amusement in his eyes, “Oh dear, you were so busy having fun that you were unable to answer the bonus question. That means that you’ve lost our little game. You’re be staying with us and you’ll keep your babies.”

“What?” They had tricked you again. They had distracted you so you wouldn’t be able to answer the question. You would have to carry all of your babies to term. All twenty-one of them. Tears filled your eyes, “No, you can’t-” You were interrupted by the tube once again thrusting into your entrance.

The host smiled, rubbing his hand over your stomach and keeping the microphone away from his face, “There’s just a few terms for your contract here with us. You’ll stay with us and we’ll provide you with everything you need. In exchange, the entire staff and anyone that pays well enough gets to use you however they like,” He winked, “Which includes me. You’ll give birth to all of your little darlings on a live special after the main show. If you go into labor before that, we’re going to keep those babies inside of you until the main show is over. We can’t be cutting into one program to show another,” He smiled, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “We’re also planning on a special season finale. All of the fan favourites will come back to play again with even more at stake. Since you were the first contestant in our show, you’re shoe-in to be selected.”

Two workers began to wheel you off stage, the breasts pumps and tube still whirring. You squirmed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The host waved as you left, then turned back to the audience, “Now, then, for our second contestant of the show!”