Chapter Eight:
The Misadventures of Bacon and Eggs
"I come with no wrapping or pretty pink bows.
I am who I am, from my head to my toes.
I tend to get loud when speaking my mind.
Even a little crazy some of the time.
I'm not a size 5 and don't care to be.
You can be you and I can be me.
I try to stay strong when pain knocks me down.
And the times that I cry are when no one's around.
To error is human or so that's what they say.
Well, tell me who's perfect anyway."
~S. Raine
I
Hope sits on the overhang landing, legs through the banister bars swinging idly in the air. Her face is pressed between the rails, green eyes watching the inhabitants mill about beneath like a child would watch the ants in an anthill with a magnifying glass.
The world is quiet up here on her perch, safe in the low light, and even if someone from below was to get the sudden notion to look up and over they would not see her. The notice-me-not charm would make sure of that.
Hope is not hiding, however. In any case she would adamantly say she wasn't. She was merely… watching.
And it made interesting viewing when people didn't realize they were being watched.
Elijah was coming out of the parlour room with his suit jacket being swung on, shoulder to shoulder with a shuffling Marcel, both locked in low conversation. Rebekah walked through four minutes after the two had departed through the hall for the kitchens, her heels clacking on the stone floor, strange phone device pressed to her ear (phones had come a long way from Hope's time of tiny screens and physical buttons to press of the nineties), hissing something into the cell about timely deliveries. Hayley came traipsing through next, and Hope could smell the swamp mud on the bottom of her boots, loamy and musky from the visit she'd taken this morning to the bayou.
Hope watches them come and go and come again to go somewhere else like the front hall was some sort of terminus, a nexus of a home, a space where you never intended stay but somewhere to pass through to the next big thing.
All until she spotted Niklaus marching through the side door, a large canvas perched under one arm with a leather roll of what Hope suspected to be brushes and paint clutched in his free hand.
He gives her pause in her inconsequential game of one-sided peek-a-boo.
She thinks about running back to her room, of finding paper and pastels to sketch with, of taking those trinkets and running down the stairs not three foot from her. She'd dash up to him and smile maybe, chirp 'good morning' and join him on his stroll to the back garden where she knows an easel is waiting. They'd spend the morning in frivolous chatter, but comfortable chatter, chatter that comes easy and natural, and they'd see the sunlight like most fathers and daughters do.
Happy and content.
Hope doesn't move nevertheless. She doesn't go to her room for paper and pastels, and she most definitely doesn't take the final plunge and descend the stairs towards her now quickly disappearing father. It's not that she's scared, okay maybe a little nervous, she's more… unsure.
Uncertain how to be or act or speak around these people.
Hope had been here for three days now since waking up the second time, and she'd barely had a conversation deeper than, 'hello I'm going for a nap' with anyone. Hayley talked to her most, and subsequently was the easiest to talk back to but they hadn't dared tread into waters deeper than a what have you been up to, and Elijah and Rebekah seemed fine with letting Hope take things at her own pace, to come to them when she was ready, but Niklaus-
Niklaus was the most difficult.
There was just something sticky about the whole situation. As if Hope fumbled and handled this wrong she'd come away with stained hands. It's hard to describe really, this sudden no-mans-land she's standing across with her father on the other side, but it was like neither one wanted to cross it in case they hit a mine and blew themselves up.
He smiled at her from across a room when they were in the same space, and Hope smiled back, but that was about as much as either ventured.
Hope isn't used to this. She's the quintessential Gryffindor. She's bold and she's brave and she's-
Terrified of speaking to her own family on the off chance they see how fucked up she is, decide she's not worth the effort, and kick her to the curb.
Alright, alright, perhaps Hope is a little scared. A little scared and walking on egg shells, and keeping herself to her room and this landing where she cloaks herself and watches people coming and going, wishing she could just go down the stairs and join them but not really knowing how.
Circe, she's pathetic, isn't she?
She's faced Tom Riddle, Albus's schemes, Werewolves on a full moon and a sea full of Inferi, and she can't talk to someone with a blood relation to herself?
Pathetic and laughable.
"People watching again? You're as bad as Elijah."
Well, Hope hadn't talked to any living Mikaelson in three days. The half-see-through one emerging from her side to lean over the railing by his elbows grinning down to the hall below-
Hope couldn't seem to get rid of him.
II
"Good morning to you too, Kol. Yes, I slept well. Thanks for asking. Oh, you didn't because you're dead? Shame. Lovely weather we're having though, yes?"
The man in question, apparently her uncle Kol who was, indeed, dead and a ghost, rolled his eyes and span on his heel, kicking back to relax against the banister with his arms crossed.
"And there's Nik's marvellous sarcasm. Can't say I've missed it all that much."
He levelled Hope with a heavy look she refused to meet.
"Please tell me we're not going to be spending another day up here doing nothing? When I realized someone could see me, that you could see me, I thought my days of dreary moping were over. Come on Hope, you're a Mikaelson. Where's your thirst for adventure, darling?"
The same place her bravery had seemingly disappeared to. Somewhere Hope can't reach.
Still, in the three days she'd been ostensibly haunted by this tall, annoying ghost who won't take 'go away' as an answer, Hope had quickly learned not to back down. You give Kol and inch, and he'd take a continent.
"The same place your brains have gone. You wanted me to set fire to the library yesterday, if you remember. I'm not listening to you anymore."
Kol, of course, remembers.
"It was just a few books. Elijah enjoys them and it would have been funny to see him have the Vampire equivalent of an aneurysm when he saw his precious collection transformed to ashes."
Kol slipped down the railing, until he landed silently on the landing, back to the hall below.
"You're on fun, Hope. No fun at all."
Hope scoffed, idly picking at the loose threads of her jumper sleeve, whishing she could pick apart and stick together social ques as easily.
"And you're dead, Kol. Really, truly dead. Look at that, we both have some flaws."
Apparently, the one-person Hope found it easiest to talk to in this place was said dead person. What did that say about her? Nothing nice, surely.
"That doesn't mean I don't know how to live. Clearly, you don't. Here you are, again, sitting in the dark watching the world pass you by below. You stagnate much longer and you're going to start growing moss."
Kol batted back just as effortless.
It's easy for him, Hope thinks a little resentfully. He's the type of person who had an answer to everything, a punchline for every joke, the life of a party with a killer smile and disarming charm.
Hope had grown up locked in a cupboard and only brought out when a beating was needed or the washing up done. A childhood like that hadn't afforded her the necessary aptitudes to develop social skills.
Turns out having an abusive childhood had consequences. Who'd have thunk it? Now Hope was paying the price when all she really wanted to do was be social but found her proverbial toolbelt empty.
"And if you keep rabbiting on in my ear twenty-four-seven, I'm going to go insane. Maybe I already am. Maybe that's why I'm seeing you to begin with. Perhaps I've finally lost what little marbles I had left and my own brain is torturing me by conjuring you."
Hope shook her head, feet stilling in their swinging. Her bare toes wiggle, cold in the air. The chill is good for grounding herself.
"Why don't you want me to tell your family I'm seeing you again?"
Now it was Kol's turn to refuse to meet her eye, instead looking up to count the crystals in the chandelier.
"Because I'm dead. I thought we established this already?"
"Yes…"
Hope hazarded.
"But you're not completely dead, right? I mean… I'm speaking to you. I see you. That's got to imply something."
Neither Kol or Hope know why she can see him, speak to him, but the latter was leaning to this being a side affect of being this 'Deathly Hallow' everyone was whispering about when they thought she couldn't hear. Kol, however, merely seemed happy to go along with it as long as he had company now.
Not for the first time, Hope wonders how long he's been alone, when exactly he'd died and woke up to this ethereal life. A month? Six? A year? She doesn't ask him this, however. Even Hope, terribly clumsy Hope, knows asking 'so how the fuck did you die, eh?' might be crossing a respectful line.
"I'm dead, Hope."
He reiterated softly, and when she glances towards him, sees him staring off into the dark down the landing, Hope thinks she sees the boy beneath the bravado, that gentle thing inside he hides with anarchy and arson.
"I'm dead and that's not going to change if they know. It will only make it worse. Knowing I'm here and not being able to do anything about it. Rebekah will cry and-"
The mask comes falling back in with a shake of his head, a gathering of his senses, the bloom of a devil may care smile.
"And Elijah will be a right pain in the arse. He'd be all 'honour' this and 'honour' that and no one hurts my family and gets away with it as long as their last name isn't Gilbert-"
There's pain there, hiding in his voice and his not-quite-a-joke, a thread of it that Hope picks up that she's sure Kol wishes she didn't by how fast and how far he moves the topic along next.
"Plus, me and you, this is fun, right? Secrets are fun. We're like… Butch and Sundance. Bonnie and Clyde. Bacon and eggs, Hope, bacon and eggs-"
He says like it's some great and magnificent compliment he's paying her.
"Do you really want to get rid of me when I'm the only one you've said more than four words to in as many days?"
He's got her. Kol knows this, and Hope knows this, and each knows the other knows too. Evidently, while she's been watching them, he's been watching her. It's an uncomfortable realisation to come to. To not be the kid with the magnifying glass but the ant in the hill.
But Hope is looking at his face, and there's a spark in his eye she knows, a spark that glints roguishly, and an uptick lip that screams reckless, and there's nothing less than something unscrupulous in smile that reminds her of-
Sirius.
Kol reminds Hope of Sirius, her dear, dead Sirius, and maybe that's what all this is about, why she finds it so easy to talk to him, to sit with him, to just be here with him because there's a touch of Sirius in his soul.
Sirius, who was dead and gone, who she still missed so dreadfully… but Kol wasn't fully dead, was he? He was here, in part, see-through and poignant but here.
And maybe, just maybe, that meant something.
Hope couldn't save Sirius, but Kol was still here.
It was that thought that kicked started the shit show to come.
III
"Let's fuckin' do it."
Hope declares haphazardly, ardently, suddenly pumped up with that Gryffindor unruliness she was known for and gotten into her fair share of trouble for having. Kol, Circe bless him, clearly didn't understand her leap in logic or what the hell she was talking about.
"Set fire to Elijah's personal library? Sure, I'm game-"
"No."
Hope pulled her legs through the railing, drew her face away from the bars, and it felt like she was stepping out a prison cage and into the wide, wild open.
"Well… It's Rebekah's birthday in four days. I heard Elijah on the phone ordering flowers for a dinner they're having for it. Yours too seen as you're twins… what better birthday present is there?"
And that's something a 'family' does, isn't it? Giving birthday presents. Hope can do that. She can. She can act like she's part of a family that doesn't involve lying about the death of an orphan's parents when they were murdered, slaps and belt loops and locking kids in cupboards.
If she did this, made a birthday present, the best birthday present there ever fuckin' was because if Hope ever did something she gave her hundred percent, then maybe, if she was a lucky girl, the rest will come easier.
Kol was utterly and completely lost as he too came to a stand.
"Sorry, Darling, but I have no idea what you're rambling about-"
"I'm the Deathly Hollow, right? That's what everyone's calling me when they don't think I'm around. That's got to mean… something. It's in the name, yeah? I'm seeing you for a reason. That must mean there's some… chance for you. I just have to figure out how to-"
Hope flippantly waves her hand at Kol, from crown to ghostly toe capped boot, searching for the right word. She doesn't quite stick the landing.
"Un-Deathly-Hollow you."
Kol blinked at her, slightly wonky, untimed, a bit like a lazy lizard bathing in the midday sun, clearly dropped into the deep end.
"You're going to-"
He hesitates, cocking a dark brow so high it nearly met his hairline, unsure if he's followed her meandering speech quite right.
"Resurrect me?"
"Resurrect!"
Hope chirped happily with a snap of her fingers. That's the word she was looking for. Squaring her shoulders, Hope regarded her uncle with the same devilish gleam in her eye.
"I'm going to resurrect you."
Kol reels back as if she's thrown sand in his face, or he smells something gone-off.
"And how exactly are you planning to do that? Witches have tried for millennia to perfect necromancy magic, and trust me, none of them have gotten very far beyond a few spells to create loopholes that only work if they're enacted before the person is as dead as a doornail."
"Necromancy-schnecromancy."
Hope heckled from the peanut gallery, already heading for the stairs with renewed purpose. Clearly she was shite at this whole 'family' thing, but magic? Hope knows magic. Knows it like her own reflection. She's made from and of magic.
"We don't need necromancy. I've survived not one but two killing curses. I've fought a war and been a Horcrux and survived Snapes occlumency lessons-"
Kol, anew, appears like he doesn't understand half the words she's saying, but is, luckily, getting the gist.
"I can resurrect one annoyingly glib ghost if I put my mind to it."
At least, Hope is pretty sure she can. Eighty percent-
Sixty percent sure. That's still more than half, and she'd faced worse odds before. And so what if she failed? What if she was just seeing Kol because… because she suddenly can and it meant nothing more? If the worst came to be, Hope would fail and Kol would remain a ghost, no one would know any better, and nothing would change. But if she succeeded-
The whole game changes.
If Albus bloody Dumbledore and Tom fuckin' Riddle can break the universal laws of magic by messing with Time and Soul magics, Hope can dabble in a little necromancy.
"You seem overtly confident in your own assessment of your abilities when many a man and woman before you have tried and failed to do the same. Some would say it's impossible. Necromancy, true necromancy, is an impossible magic. It's nothing more than a philosophical theorem conjured in the minds of mad Witches and Wizards. There's never been a recorded case of any successful attempts in history."
Kol snarked from the banister, but Hope was on a fast roll.
She'd show him who's growing bloody moss.
"Please-"
Hope booed, ego a little bruised.
"I'm Hope Potter."
She added as if that was all there was needed to be said.
"I do five impossible things before breakfast. I'm technically six days old, and I've already got my own act of valour medal. This is going to be a piece of cake. Now are you coming with me to get you back into a body and the world of the living, or are you going to mope around up here haunting bedsheets and shower stalls for eternity?"
Kol blinked, Kol swallowed, and Kol grinned.
"I knew you had some of that hedonistic Mikaelson fire in you somewhere."
He threw his hands up, out, wide and open palmed, ready for a party.
"Let's go get me a body, darling!"
Finally descending the stairs to the floor below, to the empty ant hill, Hope felt Kol follow more than she heard his ghostly footsteps.
"Where are we going?"
Hope grinned at his question, knowing how much this is going to piss him off.
"The first place anyone goes when they have a question that needs answering. The library."
Kol groaned deep and petulantly, whining like a child, stopping just short of stomping his foot.
"Not the library. You really are mini Elijah."
IV
This was not, despite what Hope had said earlier, a piece of cake. Sitting in Elijah's personal library, having snuck in from the West hall after Kol had gone ahead to check if the coast was clear, Hope sat on the floor surrounded by a pile of open books bared on various pages, yellowed in numerous ages, each as unintelligible as the last.
"Got anything yet? It's been three hours."
Hope slapped the book in her lap closed, eyeing her uncle with more than a smidge of aggravation.
"There was nothing five minutes ago and there's nothing right now, and if you keep asking me every two seconds, there's going to be nothing for a while."
Sighing in frustration, not just from Kol's incessant pestering while he couldn't hold a book to help search, Hope dashed the tome away from her, into it's pile of otherwise abandoned brethren she'd scoured.
"But no. Not a thing. These are all basic Witch books. Laws of balance, eye of newt stuff. Are you sure this is all Elijah has on magics?"
Kol rolled his neck, even though he sure as fuck wasn't getting a crick in it. He's corporeal, you don't get trapped nerves or muscle aches because you don't have nerves or muscles anymore.
"This is it, kiddo. I didn't think he'd have much. He was never one for magic. Neither is Niklaus or Rebekah. Now you should have seen my collection in Copenhagen. Oh, it would have blown your little mind. I had dead sea scrolls about Mesopotamian fertility rites. The only ones in existence-"
Hope ran a tired hand down her face, trying to drag her disappointment down with it.
"As much as I am sure I'd be interested in knowing about this once-upon-a-time archive and ancient contraceptives, it doesn't really help us out right now. It looks like we're at a dead-end. No pun intended."
Kol skirted around Elijah's desk by the large bay windows.
"Dead-end? Are you a Witch or not underneath your current furry fanged transformation? This is New Orleans. This is the hotbed of mystery. This city was built on the back of voodoo and black magic. There isn't a street in the French Quarter that doesn't have a Wiccan shop."
"It does?"
Kol shakes his head at her, scrubbing at his own eyes tiredly. He's not tired, of course, he's just trying to make a dramatic point.
"Does it, she asks. Does it. How can you not know-"
"Excuse me."
Hope cut in with a scowl and a bark, trudging to a stand amongst the leaves and bindings of flipped open books.
"I was busy fighting for my life in Britain. I didn't have time to research the magical history of the Americas which, by the way, would have been thirteen years out of date anyway seen as I've time-travelled. Cut me some slack."
Kol, diplomatically, held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.
"Count this as slack cut."
Hope huffed, bending over and beginning to cram the books back into their respective bookcases, just how she'd found them. She was not too gentle with them, nearly breaking the spine on one or two books that looked more expensive than the entirety of Hope's belongings put together.
"You know with how infuriating you're being, if you had physical shins I'd kick them in and-"
"Hope?"
V
The voice comes from behind, loud and clear and crystal bright, and absolutely not Kol's.
Hope whirled around on her haunches from the face of the bookcase, wide-eyed, to find Rebekah peeking in through the door, frown firmly fixed in place and eyeing the room around them suspiciously, even going as far as trying to peak underneath Elijah's impressive mahogany desk.
"Who are you speaking to?"
"Oh, uh-"
Like a rabbit in headlights, Hope scrabbled for an adequate answer when, from the corner of her eye, she watched Kol making a slashing motion at his neck frantically. A silent request not to say or do anything.
Hope does not listen.
"Myself."
She lands on instead, with an unsteady grin and a chuckle pitched just a shade too high to be innocent or effortless. And apparently she can't stop speaking now that she's begun, much to Kol's chagrin.
"I do that sometimes. All the time, actually. Keeps the… wits sharp, and the tongue sharper. You start an argument with yourself and then you keep it going and it's practice for when you need to-"
Kol was now sagging, drooping and defeated when he understood Hope was, in fact, quite hopeless.
"Debate. Yeah, debate. I was part of a… debate team. Loads of debate teams. Go, go team spirit!"
"Oh dear lord. I thought you were a Mikaelson?! How can you be this bad at lying?!"
Hope, understandably, can't openly answer Kol's barb, can't bite back without having the jig up, but she can, and does, glare fiercely over to him.
Rebekah, unfortunately, can't see Kol, can't hear him either, and only sees her niece standing alone in Elijah's library glaring at nothing and rambling about something even less.
"Right…"
The blond hazards, uncomfortable but clearly unsure on how to proceed. Ultimately, it seems, she decided to go for a complete disregard of it even happening.
Thank Merlin.
"Seen as you've finally come down stairs, how about we go get some lunch in the kitchen-"
Rebekah's brightened up, creeping fully through the door now, grinning in that sunshine way she does, but Kol's also pouncing, coming right through the desk with his ghostly form to demand her attention.
"Ask her to take you shopping! Rebekah loves shopping and we can ditch her in some clothes boutique and go find a Wiccan shop. They'll have better books there than what's here."
"That's mean. I can't do that."
Hope answered Kol on instinct, and only realizes her mistake when Rebekah's frown returns with a vengeance.
"It's mean to have… lunch with your aunt?"
"No-"
Hope blusters to deny.
"Not you. It's mean to-"
And Rebekah can't see Kol, doesn't know he's in the room, and if Hope is going to pull off the best surprise birthday present ever, she can't really say he's who she's speaking to. Either Rebekah will start crying like Kol thinks she will, and Hope isn't really good at dealing with crying people, or it will go down like a lead balloon and she'd run off to tell Hayley or Klaus or Elijah that Hope was having hallucinations.
"Have lunch while no one else is! Yes, that's what's mean."
Hope rushes, verbally stumbling, and Morgana, she's making a mess of this. A mess that Kol seemed all to happy to be a cheerleader for.
"Ask her to take you shopping! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it!"
And Hope caves. Surely, when Kol was back to breathing and not blue, Rebekah will understand about the drive and ditch, right?
Right.
Maybe.
"But how about we go shopping instead? I… uh… these are my only clothes and I need some more. I don't know New Orleans though, so I don't know where the good shops are."
"Atta girl!"
As soon as Kol got his body back, Hope was going to kill him.
The worst thing is Rebekah smiles again. Its dimpled too, and open and-
Hope feels a little dirty for lying. She's never been the best at it, hated falling back on it, despite what the scar on her hand says.
"Of course."
Rebekah readily agreed, and she looks so excited. Excited Hope is going shopping with her. Excited Hope is talking to her.
Oh, that doesn't feel good. That doesn't feel good at all.
Bringing her twin back from the dead will be compensation for the oncoming ditching, wouldn't it?
"Let me just go get my car keys and we can head out if you want to? Or we can wait for Elijah to get back from the Quarter and-"
"Don't let her bring Elijah along! He's got beady little hawk eyes. There's no way we could slip his watch."
Rebekah was turning for the door, readying to slip back outside in search of her car keys, but, at Kol's urging, Hope kicks away from the bookshelf and darts forward.
"No!"
Rebekah freezes just as Hope does, lurching away in part shock, quasi confusion.
"What I mean is…"
What is it Hope means? What lie could she use? How is she meant to-
Kol, from the corner of her eye, made a very understandable gestures around his chest.
"I have boobs!"
Rebekah physically stumbled back from the squeaked outcry that tore itself free from Hope in a desperate run to get her to stay and not leave to find Elijah. Kol, in turn, clapped his hands over his face in mortification, in exasperation, and only then did what he was trying to convey, without distracting her with speech, slapped Hope around the face like a big, wet fish.
"I mean I'd like it if it were just us girls."
And for good measure-
"I need to buy some underwear and… you know, I don't want it to get awkward."
That ship had long sailed away.
The grandfather clock ticked on, the second hand moving in an uncomfortably long draw on the echoing silence before, thank fuckin' Merlin, Rebekah seemed to be the type of person that believes if it doesn't directly involve her, it isn't her problem. Or Hope looks such a fuckin' mess that she's willing to ignore this bizarre behaviour for the sake of keeping Hope talking.
Hope doesn't know which of those possibilities is worse than the other.
"I'll meet you by my car then? Let you finish... this?"
Hope doesn't dare to say yes or no, doesn't trust she won't somehow botch that too, so she nods and watches Rebekah go, sighing in ragged relief when she can't hear her footsteps anymore.
"I have boobs?!"
Hope whirled on her incredulous uncle.
"You can't say shite! Why would you make the sign for tits if you didn't want me to say tits?!"
Kol brings his hands back up to his chest, frantically making the gesture again.
"I wasn't doing the sign for tits, I was miming straps, see? The sign for a backpack. I was trying to tell you to say you needed a new bag, and clearly Elijah would know nothing about handbags and should stay at home. Tits? Tits?! How did you get tits from this?"
"Maybe because you're making the honk, honk sign! You don't do that with bags!"
"It's not the honk, honk sign. It's me gripping the straps of a backpack-"
Kol, finally, glanced down at himself, watching the motion in action and, in the end, saw what Hope saw.
"Oh… well. That does look like I'm pantomiming boobs, doesn't it?"
Hope lets her eyes slide close, holds her breath in her lungs, and tries to count back down from ten. Just think, she tells herself almost blissfully. She get's Kol back into flesh and bone, and she'll have the perfect target for a throat punch.
"Let's just get the fuck to the car before I try cramming another foot in my already full mouth, yes?"
Kol, mercifully, appeared all for getting a move on.
"Time to get this show on the road, Eggs!"
And off he goes like a rocket, leaving Hope jogging to catch up out the study door.
"Eggs? Clearly I'm bacon, you're eggs."
"You're far too short to be bacon, kiddo."
"You overgrown bastard-"
"Ah, ah, ah. That's your dear papa. My wonderfully inept parents were perfectly married when me and Rebekah were born. Nik was the product of an extramarital affair. Now keep your voice down or do you want everyone in this house to hear you arguing with yourself about breakfast foods?"
"I'm going to resurrect you, and then I'm going to bloody kill you again."
"Sure you will, Eggs. Sure you will."
Next Chapter: Hope finds a book that shouldn't be, Tweedledee and Tweedledumb break into a morgue, and the first sign of Kai on the distant horizon pops up, so small you might miss it if you don't squint…
A.N: A lot of readers are looking forward to a Klaus/Hope chapter, and I promise, for realsies, that it IS coming. Not next chapter but the one after that. It's pretty sweet, if I do say so myself, so not much longer to wait. I just personally thought Kol would be the most likely one Hope would connect with first, as he reminds her of Sirius and that lets her lower her guard a little that she understandably has up around the others. That said, some good Rebekah and Elijah bonding is coming up too, just after Kol and Hope kick up havoc lmao.
It's not canon that Rebekah and Kol are twins, that's my own little headcanon that I'm pretty stuck on lol.
As always, thank you so much for the follows, favourites, and reviews. I hope this chapter made you giggle once or twice, and, if you have a spare moment or two, please don't forget to drop a review. I will hopefully see you all soon! ~AlwaysEatTheRude21
