P.s. I do not want to be sexualized for posting this. Purely posting because I believe the human body is an art form and this is how I felt when I took/edited these.
Out of the Ordinary. (Wilhemina Venable x Reader One Shot.)
A/N: hi omg it has been YEARS. i never usually write these sorts of stories but i decided to give this request a shot and here it is !! i hope someone out there enjoys this :)
Request: “ Can I request a Venable x Reader pre apocalypse where they are used to the reader being really upbeat and charismatic all the time and then there’s one day they don’t see them at work, and Venable goes to the reader’s apartment to see how bleak it is and the reader’s having a depressive episode and it,,,just really shocks Venable?” — @urleastfavtree (thank you so much for requesting this and pulling me out of the biggest ever writers block !! i hope i did the idea justice.)
Summary: You used to be a well respected Scientist. You have a P.H.D. for fuck’s sake! But the research lab let you go and after spending way too much time obsessing over Billie Dean Howard’s Medium show and criticizing it on the internet, you got the fans’ attention and hers and now you were working with her.
Sorry this chapter took so long, but she thicc so hopefully that makes up for it.
This fic assumes the reader hasn’t flown first class and also doesn’t already live in LA. So if you have or you do, you don’t in this alternative version of yourself. I try to avoid pronouns so both my she/hers and they/thems can see themselves in most of what I write. Made up some stuff about Pitbull. It makes sense.
I did a lot of research for this chapter, so if I get anything wrong, too bad honestly.
Thanks to Talulahmae for the name of the airline. Blame her folks. Because I would have figured out something normal. Honestly though the name of the airline sounding like a joke works with the plot.
flight safety
Menu
Reference for Billie’s house
Reference for Billie’s couch
-
You looked at your phone, the number that flashed read: ‘unlisted.’ It was way too intriguing to ignore.
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Dr. Y/N L/N?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“This is Conner Flemming, I represent Miss Billie Dean Howard from the lifetime television show ‘Of Care and Ghosts’”
Your eyebrows shot up, “Really?” This had to be a joke.
“Yes. Your interactions with Miss Howard online have captured fans’ attention and we believe there is money to be made from a show, starring the two of you.”
“Huh?”
“We’d start you off …” The amount of money he quoted was more than you could have imagined. “If the show does well…” he listed another crazy high number and you nearly fell to the floor. “We were hoping we could fly you out to L.A. in a few days to sign the contracts and get the ball rolling. We’re willing to negotiate of course.”
You laughed, still sure that this was a prank of some sort, “Sure sounds great.”
“Alright we’ll need to get some more information from you…” He asked you where you lived, if you would have transportation to the airport, what sort of hotel accommodations you would need if any, etc.
And you nearly started to believe it would actually happen.
A ticket was sent to your phone, only a few minutes after your conversation. Was this happening? Except? Except that the name of the airline gave you pause. It was a first class ticket for Mr. Worldwide airlines. Like Pitbull? That had to be a joke, right?
You looked it up and it was completely legit. It turned out that Pitbull, purchased an airline and then named it after himself, which made complete sense actually. Though you still couldn’t quite believe this was actually happening.
-
You really started to believe it when you were there in the airport and were informed that before boarding you could sit in the first class lounge while you waited. Why not? It wasn’t as though you expected to fly first class again in the near future, why not take advantage of all the perks?
You were allowed a free carry on, but you didn’t know that so you just had the roll on suitcase that you purchased specifically for this trip, you had no idea how long you’d be gone for so you packed everything you could have possibly needed. But the space was nice and there were so many outlets, outlets everywhere, outlets up the ass, outlets, outlets, outlets. And you didn't even need to use any of them, because you smartly charged everything before you left. So you scrolled through your phone for a few minutes before boarding, mostly looking at pictures of LA, wondering how long you’ll be there and if you’d have time to try out any of the interesting restaurants.
Once boarding was allowed, you were one of the first on. It was so weird, you were used to staring at your ticket worried that you’d miss the number for your boarding party, not being of top priority. You turned left, toward the cockpit, instead of right. There was a curtain between the first class section and the rest of the plane. The flight attendant led you to your own little private cushy black seat, with it’s own little table and a small privacy screen attached.
“Go ahead and get settled, I’ll fetch you a glass of champagne” The flight attendant said before leaving and you sat down on the chair. It was so comfortable, almost like one of those massage chairs at the mall, but without the massaging. You pulled out your phone because it was the only thing you had on you, not foreseeing the free carry on thing. You were about to scroll some more, perhaps do some stalking research on Billie Dean Howard, when you noticed the menu tucked into the seat. You pulled it out expecting to see a few sodas, maybe wine and peanuts, perhaps a sandwich, that is not what you found. They had so many options, chicken tandoori, lobster crab cakes, vegetable puff pastry, artisan cheese and fruit and fresh made salad. You made a mental note of which option appealed to you and then placed it back in its place. Then you discovered the seat fully reclined, all the way back.
The flight attendant not only returned with Champagne but also with a small bag for you as well. She handed both to you.
You held up the bag, “What’s this?” You asked.
“Never flown first class?” The flight attendant guessed. You nodded and she explained, “It's your toiletry bag.”
“It’s not that long of a flight.”
She chuckled, “It's just in case you need anything.” She said then added, “Was there anything else? We’re about to give our safety presentation.”
You shook your head and she left, you took a sip of your champagne. Just a moment later she was at the head of your section.
“We’ll be taking off momentarily, so please make sure your carryon baggage is stowed securely, either in an overhead compartment or under the seat in front of you. Mobile phones and other electronic devices should be turned off…” You turned off your phone, just after seeing and accidentally saving a particularly striking photo of Billie, she was holding a cigarette, poised between her fingers like it was an offering, Shit! While she continued, you quickly turned your phone back on about to delete it, when you saw it again and you just didn’t. While you panicked about that, the flight attendant continued her speech, which you missed about half of.
“If there is a loss of cabin pressure, the panels above your seat will open and oxygen masks will drop down. If this happens, place the mask over your nose and mouth, and adjust it as necessary. Be sure to adjust your own mask before helping others…” While she continued to speak, you glanced at your now powered off phone. Why did you save the picture? Why didn’t you delete it?
“Thank you for your attention. We hope you enjoy your flight!” Hopefully you caught enough of that to survive in light of a terrible accident, because you were way too preoccupied with whatever happened to your brain when you saw that picture. How hard was it just to delete a picture?
The plane began to lift off and you braced yourself for the typical whoosh feeling, but it never came, or you just felt it with a much lower intensity, perhaps the champagne went to your head already and that’s why you didn’t really feel it.
You were off. You glanced out the window to see the world slowly becoming smaller.
As you flew through the air, you sipped your champagne, never feeling so comfortable on a plane before.
Before long the flight attendant came around and took your order.
You couldn’t believe how good the food was, so used to having crappy airplane food you could complain about as soon as someone asked you how your flight was. Now what would you say? You had nothing to complain about, you’d have to ..say something nice about the flight. What a strange feeling.
While you stared at the clouds passing outside your private window and basked in the silence around you, you thought about the past few days, the past few weeks.
You just lost your job, career really. It happened so recently that you had yet to begin collecting unemployment. Then you became addicted to a terrible show starring a dashingly beautiful Medium. But you were so annoyed with how confident she was, that you started debunking everything on her show. You got such a following that Billie herself (or what you thought was Billie, this whole thing could still be a scam) started to reply back to you. And then you were called and invited to LA to begin a show with her and were quoted an absurd amount of money as a starting wage. Then an actual ticket (to a stupidly named airline) was sent to your phone and here you were. You still couldn’t really believe it. Though a first class ticket was an expensive way to pull a prank.
Then there was your phone in your pocket. It was as though you could feel her image in your gallery laughing at you, at how weak you were for saving it. Yes she was annoying and so sure of herself, but she also had those eyes that sparkled and you could feel the pull of them through the screen. You wondered what it would be like to see them up close. Goddamnit! She was already in your head and you hadn’t even met her yet.
Before you knew it the plane was descending. You watched as the clouds parted and the cars and buildings below seemed to grow bigger and bigger. You felt a sort of childish glee watching them, imagining for a moment that it wasn’t because the plane was getting closer to the ground, but because they were really growing right before your eyes. The thought made you smile for a moment.
The coms cackled as the pilot’s voice announced: “Welcome to Los Angeles! It’s 2:34pm and The temperature is a balmy 86 degrees. Please wait in your seats until we direct you to exit. I hope you enjoyed flying with Mr. Worldwide airlines, we hope you chose us for your next travel plans.”
Once you were off the plane and had collected your suitcase there was a limo waiting for you, the driver holding up a sign with your name on it. Instead of taking you to the hotel, the driver said he had instructions to bring you straight to meet with Billie Dean, the show runners and their lawyers.
As you stepped out of the limo and looked up at the building before you, you couldn’t even see the top. It was all black and glittering in the sweltering sun. Thankfully the elevator wasn’t too difficult to find once inside as the elevator doors themselves were all gold and stood out against the black walls.
You held your suitcase to your side, not certain the driver would wait for you and embarrassed that stopping at the hotel first to drop it off wasn’t an option. Was this a negotiating tactic? Rushing you along? You weren’t even sure what you were doing there in the first place. Oh right, lost your job, drank and ate your sorrows, watched terrible tv and wound up on a forum where you annoyed the star of a show enough to invite you out supposedly to join her in a new one, though any moment someone was going to pop out of a corner to laugh at your gullibility. You’d get up to the floor suitcase in hand and they’d just rip into you about how stupid you were to believe they actually wanted you on their television show. You had almost convinced yourself of this, when you finally reached the fourth floor and immediately heard her honey sweet southern accent.
“Is that a suitcase? You didn’t send Dr. L/N to the Hotel first?” Her perfectly coiffed blond head poked out from the conference room door. She had been sitting in a chair near the door, but she was soon out of the conference room and standing in front of you. She was wearing a pink blouse with a string of white pearls around her neck and a black skirt with somewhat sensible black heels to match. But you barely glanced at what she was wearing, because of her eyes, her lips, her nose, the curve of her jaw, the curve of her breasts. But mostly her eyes dark and shining and yes, far more captivating up close and perhaps also the movement of her lips as she spoke. And and and and - no it was everything, it was everything about her. “It’s nice to meet you.” She said extending her hand, which you noticed had a pale pink press on manicure, freshly done by the looks of it. “I’m Billie Dean Howard, Medium to the Stars.”
You nodded, taking her hand in yours, it was so soft and felt nice. “Dr. Y/N L/N”
She smiled, “Yes I know.”
“Did the suitcase give me away?”
“Well yes, but also ..” She ducked her head just a touch, “I looked you up.”
“Oh?”
“You are..” You weren’t sure if she was searching for a word or if it was out of embarrassment that she paused, “Very impressive,” She finally said.
“Oh..” You said, smirking at her. “So you know the length of my credentials now?”
She blushed then and you saw it, the darkening of her cheeks, the drop of her eyes to the floor. That was a beautiful sight. Who knew she’d be so charming in person?
“Yes.” She admitted in a small whisper. Then she straightened up. “Come sit in the conference room and we’ll go over the contract.”
You followed her into the conference room and sat next to her. She lifted a brow at your choice and you’d come to regret it in less than a minute.
“So what is the premise of this show?” You asked them.
“Well it would be the two of you going to supposedly haunted locations, houses mostly, Billie will be communicating with the ghosts and you would be there as the part of the skeptic.” You assumed the man who spoke was one of the producers, he was dressed in a very nicely pressed blue suit and had perfectly kept hair.
“So I’d be there to discredit her.”
“You could try dear, but you’ll fail.” Billie said.
You rolled your eyes and turned to her, “Oh I’m sorry, I thought you knew who you were dealing with now, since you looked me up.”
“Yes..” She drawled and leaned closer to you, “But,” She cocked her head to the side, looking you dead in the eyes, hers so dark, so sparkly, “You’re in my domain now.”
You laughed and leaned forward too, “You must be joking.”
“You are very intelligent, but you know nothing about the astral plane, you’re out of your depth.”
“Out of my-” You blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend where she got the audacity to speak to you in such a way.
“As I was saying” the well dressed man said, pulling your attention from her, “ You would accompany Ms. Howard at these locations and give a scientific viewpoint to balance hers out, so to speak.”
“Like the X- Files?” You asked him.
“Just call me Mulder, Darling.” Billie said and smirked.
You ended up signing the contract for two reasons, the first one you were happy to admit, which was the obscene amount of money they were offering you. The second was because Billie Dean Howard was so much fun to rile up and annoy, you wanted the opportunity to continue to do so. You weren’t certain which reason was more compelling.
-
The hotel room was bigger than any you had ever been in before. Besides a California king, there was a sunken tub, the softest carpet you’d ever felt and a cute little kitchen nook. There was even a balcony which overlooked a long expanse of beach. After that meeting you slept for the rest of the day. On your second day you called Sheryl. She picked up on the first ring.
“Hey Sheryl, guess what?” You said.
“What hun?” She asked, sounding excited to hear whatever news you might give her.
“I got a job! In L.A!”
“L.A!”
“Yeah!”
“Doing what?”
You scratched the back of your neck, “Uh.. a reality show.”
“What? Like the Bachelor?” She laughed, “You couldn’t find anything in your field?”
“Oh this still involves science.”
You could almost see the eye roll, “Chemistry doesn’t count.”
“No, it’s.. You remember that show I told you about that I was watching too much of?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well.. the producers wanted to start filming a new show with the star and they wanted me to join her.”
“With the Psychic?”
“Medium.”
“Whatever. Seriously?”
You quoted the amount they were starting you off with, and she whistled.
“Okay yeah, I can see why you took that job. Well let me know when you’re paying for me to fly out and we’ll do lunch at one of those fancy L.A. places huh?”
You smiled, “Sounds great, Sheryl, I'll talk to you soon.”
After a few days, you started getting used to the angry clerk at the front desk and the very rich coffee provided in the lobby. But before you could really explore the neighborhood, you were called in to begin filming. They came to pick you up in two vans, a white one - that definitely reminded you of candy carrying strangers - and a black one, which was the one you actually rode in. Apparently the white one carried their equipment, including a monitoring station in the back. There were five of you in the vehicle. Billie Dean sat in the front passenger seat next to the Director, while you were in the back next to the very chatty camera guy, he was very young, and white maybe 20, 22? He had an early Justin Bieber swoopy haircut and was wearing a blue baseball cap facing forward.
“I’m James I operate the handheld camera, we also set up cameras in each house, you are so lucky to be staring on a show with Ms. Howard. Do you realize how lucky you are? She is incredible she’s amazing she’s-”
“She’s something, alright.” You murmured but he continued not hearing you at all.
“...The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” You had to agree with him on that, though you didn’t voice it, “She’s the smartest, most amazing person ever,” You couldn’t help but wonder, if Billie could hear him from up there. She had the window open and was smoking a cigarette, so probably not over the roar of the wind. You had a feeling she had heard it all before. He didn’t strike you as someone who was shy about his feelings, or who kept anything at all to himself. Then he glared at you, “You were mean to her on the internet!” It was as though he just realized who he was talking to, like he often just started blabbering about how great Billie was to anyone who would listen.
You raised your eyebrows, amused, “I was mean to her?”
“You said her show wasn’t realistic.”
“Well it wasn’t.”
“Billie’s show was everything, you’re just jealous you aren’t as amazing as she is.”
“Oh am I now? I wasn’t aware of that, thanks for informing me.”
He seemed to miss your sarcasm. “Yes. That’s why you were so mean to her. Because she is incredible and you are nothing.”
“Oh.. alright then.” You nodded and watched Billie’s hair blowing in the wind. “What do you say we continue the rest of the drive in silence huh?”
He did not listen to you and kept gabbing away, but you tuned him out, as you decided the conversation was over even if he did not agree. Instead you occupied yourself by gazing out the window, occasionally moving your eyes from the landscape rolling by to Billie, two rows in front of you, her fingers curled around the cigarette.
At some point, as you were watching her flick ashes onto the street, you fell asleep against the window.
You arrived at the house early in the morning. It had a large imposing metal gate guarding it from the outside world and beyond, you saw that though it was clearly once an impressive building, it was now merely a shadow of what it once had been.
“The house had been foreclosed many years ago,” said the director as you passed through. “The bank repossessed the house after it didn’t sell the last time in 1973. The family who lived here last, neglected to offer a comment but we have some B roll of their interview when they left. The mother was killed in the house as was her eldest son, while the father and youngest son survived to this day. The youngest son claims it was the ghost of the original owner, Phillip Marrow. Which is what every family who lived in the house has said since he died back in 1850.”
He parked the car on the gravel and the five of you got out. Billie threw her cigarette onto the gravel and snuffed it out with her heel. Then she retrieved another from her handbag along with her lighter. She placed it between her fingers and lit it. Then took a long slow drag as she regarded the house.
You stood behind her along with James, the chatty camera man and the two technicians. While the director stood beside her, seeming to wait for her go-ahead, instead of the other way around. She stood still for a moment taking it in, before finally pivoting around. "I should introduce the place, don't you think Donny?" She asked the director.
"Yes. Of course." He agreed. "Then perhaps the two of you should each give your initial impressions."
"Mine first of course."
"Of course." He agreed. So she had him in her pocket did she?
After her introduction, which was just repeating nearly verbatim what the Director had said on the drive up; you both gave your impressions, hers was flowery while yours was clinical.
She said hers while gesticulating and flicking ashes onto the gravel, "I sense a great evil here, this house once stood tall and proud now it lay in ruins. That doesn't happen by chance. Something awful happened here and more than once."
Before you spoke, James caught your eye roll on film, "It's a run down house." You said simply, "That's all."
Billie Dean scoffed. "Your lack of perception astounds me!"
"My lack of-Oh that’s a reach! Well I’m sorry not all of us are fantasy writers, Sweetie!”
The four of you waited while the two technicians set up the indoor cameras. They came out after only a few minutes.
“We couldn’t set too much up, the foundation is rotting, I wouldn’t stay in there too long, the building might collapse.” said one of them then he followed the other into the van.
Donny nodded to his men, “Five minutes Billie.” He said.
“Why did you pick this location if you knew it wasn’t a stable building?” She asked him. You were wondering that yourself.
“The reputation.” He said and didn’t waver under her harsh gaze. “If you get a good story from this house our ratings will go through the roof, we need a good hook for the first episode.”
“If it collapses you’ll have a lawsuit on your hands Donny.” She folded her arms across her chest and stuck one of her legs forward, as though the toe of her heel were a threat of some kind.
“In and out.”
“How do we make an episode out of five minutes?” She raised her eyebrows, it was a challenge.
He poked her nose and said, “You let me worry about that.” Something about that gesture irked you and by the way she stiffened, you think it bothered her too. James was annoyed, but you expected that of him, he harrumphed and stomped his foot. You saw Billie glance in his direction briefly, as though she was keeping an eye on things, on him and his state of mind. You didn’t blame her.
The three of you made it into the house. Billie took the lead, she opened the doors with the utmost care, you followed and James was behind you, with the camera hoisted onto his shoulder.
Billie stepped back immediately, supposedly from the ‘energy’ in the house. She nearly fell into you as you were right behind her, but you stepped out of the way quickly and took a look around. The floor was torn up, and there were bits of debris everywhere, there were missing stairs, everywhere a rotting, broken mess. The smell was like raw chicken left out for weeks and then burned.
Her hands went up, as though she were pushing against some kind of invisible barrier. It was almost a Spock hand gesture, except that it was three fingers together, her pointer finger alone, with her thumbs stretched out on both hands, feeling through the air. You stepped around so that you could see her better. James crept around both of you and stood in the foyer so that he could get both your reactions on film. You decided to ignore the camera, you weren’t sure how to react to it. Should you be looking at it? To the side of it? Shouldn’t someone have told you what to do? Instead you watched her as she circled around the room as though dancing with an invisible partner and for all you knew perhaps she was, though imaginary would have been the term you’d prefer, more accurate too.
The two of you waited. There wasn’t much for you to do until she started making claims. Though as the seconds passed, you started eying the pillar in the corner, it looked as though one good gust of wind would take it out.
“I’m guessing, nothing’s here?” You asked, letting your annoyance creep into your voice a little too clearly. You could tell by the glare you caught in your peripheral, that James wanted to say something, good thing he’s meant to be invisible when he is using the camera.
“Shushh shush” She said.
“Don’t you shush me!” You snapped.
“Wait wait..” She tilted her head like a damn dog, “I hear something,” She said.
You rolled your eyes, “Sure you do.”
“In the basement.”
You snorted, “No way in hell am I going in the basement!”
“You go where I go.” She reminded you and you found yourself following her down the stairs to the left. You didn’t think to ask how she knew where they were. Donny probably showed her the blueprints or something, that had to be the case. James was behind you and given the state of the stairs you were a little worried his camera would topple onto you. But thankfully you made it to the bottom. The smell was worse down there. You should have asked how many people had died in this house, not because of ghosts of course, but you wondered if all of the corpses were buried there and how properly. How many of them were buried under the dirt floor of this basement? Were they buried deep enough?
She walked into the middle of the room, if you could call it that. “He’s here.” She said and then quieter, “He’s always here.”
James came around to the front of her, “Could we take that again Billie?” He asked her, “That was a great line and I’d like to see your face when you say it.”
She cracked a delighted smile at him, ah so she was a sucker for flattery, “Of course I can James.” Then she batted her fucking eyelashes at him and took the line again, while you were seen behind her rolling your eyes again. Then with James situated in front of her and with you behind she began her ‘interview’.
“We’ve come to you today, well I have, I cannot speak for Y/N, but I’ve come with a loving heart and an open mind to hear what you have to say. The boy who left here last in 1973, he thinks you are responsible for the deaths of his brother and his mother, what do you say to that?” She stood there silently for some time. She was quite the actress, you had to give her that, she really looked to be listening to someone speak. James seemed enthralled, but you were no longer surprised by that and it was only day one.
From behind her, you could see a tear falling down one of her cheeks, she could really ham it up. “Thank you Mr. Marrow.” Then she breathed in and turned. “If you don’t mind I will reveal what Mr. Marrow has just relayed to me outside.”
“There’s an idea I can get behind!” You said. Then scurried up the stairs and out of that nearly condemned building as quickly as you could.
You shook the remnants of the house off of you, as soon as you were out and waited for Billie and James to meet you.
She stood with her back to the house and you stood beside her. “Mr. Marrow informed me that he was indeed responsible for the deaths of that boy and his mother.”
You chuckled, “Sure he did.”
“Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“I’m speaking. As I was saying, Mr. Morrow confessed not only to being responsible for those deaths but every death that occurred in the house previously.”
“Of course he did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That it’s pretty convenient. You just happened to find the right ghost in the allotted time? And he told you outright that he committed all those murders, you didn’t have to coax it out of him? Please Billie, you are a good actress, but not as good a story teller as I thought.”
She puffed out a breath through her nose, “For your information, he was eager to confess. He didn’t mean to kill any of them.”
“Is that so?”
“That is so, when he died he found himself trapped in the house and he just wanted company. But no one ever wanted to stay. And no one has. He is the only one stuck there for eternity by himself. That’s quite rare, it’s not often I come across a signal spirit haunting. I’m sure even your rigid little mind, can grasp the heaviness he must have felt hundreds of years alone, just desperate for one soul to stay behind. But everyone else moved on. He never wanted to kill anyone.” She said and wiped away a few tears.
You stared dumbfounded at her. Did she really believe this stuff? Was she actually schizophrenic or just a really really good actress?
That’s when you noticed the house next door. It was intact, not as big but it’s yard was close enough that if someone were living in the Morrow Mansion, they could have been neighborly.
“Let’s go talk to them” You said, indicating the house. Billie followed your eyes.
“I don’t see what the point would be in that.”
“Real people? Real things to say.” You started walking over, knowing that she would follow.
You knocked on the door, just as James jogged up behind you, perching his camera back on his shoulder and hitting record as fast as possible.
The front door swung open and there stood a man. Right away there were a few things you noticed about him, his age first, he must have been about 75, Evil Dead t-shirt, black eyeliner, and knee high black combat boots. He was also a horror fan, very interesting.
“Hi..” You said, “I’m with..” You turned to James, “What is this show going to be called again?”
“I don’t think they knew the title for sure we needed a test pilot first.” James said.
“Do you know Billie Dean Howard?” You asked the man as she started to walk up his drive.
“The Psychic?”
“Medium” You and Billie corrected him at the same time, as she joined you on his porch. The look on her face when you said it together was electrifying.
“Uh yes?” He answered.
“We are shooting the pilot of our show together,” You explained, “it’s about the house next door. Do you know anything about it?”
“Oh I know everything about that house.” He said, of course he does. You expected that he would.
“Would you mind if we came in and asked you about it?”
“What like I’d be on TV?” The man asked, you could tell by his expression he was excited by the possibility.
“Sure you’d just need to sign a waiver, right James?”
“Yeah I think so.” James answered.
“But other than that yeah you could be on TV”
“Yeah okay! Come on in.” His house was like a shrine to horror films, everywhere you looked, a poster, prop or figurine, no inch went uncovered. It was floor to ceiling decoration. The man was obsessed.
He had a black leather couch that was just cleared enough to sit on, you sat next to Billie, while James stood off to the side with his camera.
You led this time, “So why don’t you tell us your name?”
“Laurence Mitchell.” Usually this would be the time when the host would offer you food or drink, but he didn’t. Perhaps he was too absorbed in the thrill of being on television but you thought it could be more than that.
“Alright Mr. Mitchell, what can you tell us about the Marrow mansion?”
He launched into nearly an half hour long info dump about the place, the list of people murdered there and every date of death. Then he started talking about how many people would come by the house and ask him about it, how he got to do his whole talk for them, but also how he’d sell merchandise. He then proceeded to pull out this huge box of random odds and ends. He claimed some of the items were of the victims, and that some belonged to Marrow himself, and that it was a gamble as to what you’d get. It was a box full of junk, he could have gotten any of that stuff anywhere, but it sparked a theory in you.
“How long have you been a fan of horror Mr. Mitchell?” You asked, as Billie shifted uneasily beside you.
He beamed, “My whole life.”
“And how long have you lived next to the Marrow house?”
“Since I was bout, 25 I expect, my late wife and I bought the place. She loved ghosts and hauntings too you see.”
You smiled, “I think I do see.”
Billie rolled her eyes. Her thigh brushed against yours for a moment as she shifted. Then she leaned over and whispered. “How much longer are we going to sit here for?"
“I think I’m just about done,” You whispered back.
“You don’t have a regular job do you? How do you make your money?”
“From my own business.”
“Is that business selling these souvenirs?”
“Yes.”
“How many more of these have you sold since 1973? Has business been worse or better since they haven’t sold the house?”
“Actually it’s been pretty good. People are even more interested now that it’s been abandoned.”
“Oh neat, you know Lawrence, you don’t mind if I call you Lawrence do you?”
“No.”
“Lawrence I’m parched..do you think you could get us all something to drink, water, lemonade, a pot of tea maybe?”
“Uh yeah sure.”
As soon as Lawrence was out of the room you turned to Billie and James.
“It was him.” You insisted.
“It was not him.” Billie said back.
“It makes more sense than a lonely ghost.” You argued. James stayed silent.
“His aura is clean.”
“Oh his aura is- Jesus Christ! That’s such an insane thing to say. He has a motive, a pretty strong one, his livelihood. I don’t think homes around here are cheap. Plus he’s obsessed with horror. Why not become what he’s obsessed with?”
You had a glass of lemonade and glanced around at all his things, which only confirmed for you what you thought you knew for certain. Then once you left, the two of you argued on camera all the way back to the van about it. When you got back in, Donny was grinning.
“We definitely got enough for an episode. Good thinking Y/N, stroke of genius!”
The car ride back was quieter, everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Although the two tech guys had their computers open on their laps clicking away. You assumed they were working on the footage. You took another nap.
-
Later that night,
“We can’t do this show Donny.” Billie Dean said into the phone as she paced and combed her hand through her hair, “I can’t have someone like Dr. L/N undermining everything I say, it won’t work.” Then she took a drag from her cigarette, “Yes I know it was partially my idea, do what you have to do, just get it done.”
About a week later, the ratings for the test pilot came in and they were triple what they were for ‘Of Care and Ghosts.’ She couldn’t say no to that kind of potential acclaim.
-
The days and weeks of filming blended together, a few nights of hotels and quick meals in shady diners and then a week or two at the hotel before you were back at it again. More and more you found yourself leaning against the window watching Billie smoke during the drives. James’s droning became like white noise.
You had too much fun annoying Billie with your logic. There was a rhythm to your banter, it was music and it was becoming your favorite song. She was still annoying and she still drove you crazy, but you were beginning to enjoy the way that she did.
About halfway through filming Season 1, before you fell asleep you started to hear her laugh and see her sparkling eyes. You always had the best dreams when that happened.
-
You were begrudgingly invited to the Premiere watch party at Billie Dean’s house. You took an Uber because even though you finished filming the first season and the test pilot went well, you still weren’t sure if this was going anywhere and were not quite ready to sell your apartment back home yet. The driver turned onto a very long driveway, lined with tall palm trees evenly spaced and perfectly kept dark green grass (which was hard to maintain in LA) on either side.
When he pulled up to the house, you saw that it was an interesting mix between a modern and traditional style. Frankly, you expected a haunted Victorian, not just because she was a medium but also because of her personal style. The rest of her yard was also covered in dark green grass and those beautiful, freshly mowed lines that rich people’s yards always had. It was a large house, but not in an obnoxious or showy way, in fact you would even say it was a bit humble. It was off white with accents in black along with some beige stone. The shape of it was definitely traditional and square, while there were hints of a modern touch, with the many big flat picture windows and sliding doors with black frames. There were several parked cars already in the rounded driveway. He let you off at the door and you thanked him before walking up.
As you stood at her door, nervously fiddling with the band of your watch, you could see through the largest window that there were tons of people mingling with martini glasses and there was a smartly dressed young man with a hors d'oeuvre tray making his rounds. You weren’t sure if you were dressed well enough. It wasn’t as though you showed up in sweatpants but these people looked like they were going to the opera or something, not sitting around watching a reality show about haunted places. Finally you knocked and the door opened. You didn’t expect her to be the one answering it. She was wearing a light brown blouse, white pencil skin and when she saw that it was you on her doorstep, an overly saccharine grin.
“Hello Darling, so glad you could make it.” She said, her voice oozed practiced charm.
She opened the door further to let you in and her arm brushed yours, “I hope I’m not underdressed.” You said.
Her lips quirked into an actual smile as she answered, “No, you’re fine. The stars can dress however they like.” and then she winked at you.
“Oh you tell me this now? I would have shown up here naked.” You joked.
Her cheeks darkened and she coughed a little through her reply, “Would you now?”
You met her eyes and the two of you stood in the breezeway a little too long, staring at each other, her eyes flickered to your lips and back up. Then someone brushed by and the spell was broken. She breathed out, “We’re going to watch in there,” with one finger she indicated her living room, which was bursting with people. “But since that’s not for,” She checked the clock, “Another hour, there is food, mingle, enjoy, I’ll be around.” and she wandered off.
You didn’t mingle, but you did sample some of the food, a cucumber sandwich and a few carrot sticks. You wandered around a little, noticed her decently sized pool in her backyard and a few personal pictures in the hall.
When it was time, you and Billie were ushered into the living room and pushed to the center of her couch, together. It was a white faux leather sectional with a green base and gold trim, and a chaise as the longest side. People crammed in on either side of you, so that you were squished together when the opening credits began. You were squeezed so tightly, it only made sense for you to make yourself more comfortable by putting your arm around the back of the couch and as a result around her as well. Suddenly there was a person standing behind the couch, your arm slipped and was pinned between the couch and her back.
You watched her give her introduction to the house and then her impression. Then you saw yourself give yours. You looked a little awkward in front of the camera but it didn’t look as bad as you worried it would. However, you watching Billie when she was doing her hand thing in the foyer of the house did.
It got to the part where Billie was supposedly listening to the ghost. You ducked your chin to whisper in her ear, “You made that look very convincing.”
She ran her tongue over her front teeth, holding back an annoyed chuckle. She didn’t look away from the screen before saying, quiet enough that only you could hear her, “That’s because it was real, darling.”
“Mhm.” You murmured unconvinced.
She breathed out real slow, before saying a little louder, “If you had just an ounce of spiritual sense about you, you’d realize I’m the true article.”
“Oh hoho, is that so? I don’t have any spiritual sense?” You asked, the company around you could hear the conversation now. It drowned out the sound from the TV and neither of you seemed to mind.
“Not a lick.” She said and then finally turned her head to look at you. You were grinning at her, mirth in your eyes, you saw the same reflected back at you.
“Not a lick huh, what about a pinch?”
“A pinch is more than a lick.”
Your grin widened, “Is that so? What about a smidgen?”
“None - At - All”
You continued arguing until most of the guests were gone and the show had been over for more than an hour. When your Uber arrived, you leaned against the wall of her breezeway and she leaned against the other side. Her head was tucked nearly to her chest, though she still looked up at you every few seconds.
“The Uber is here I should-” You indicated the door and reached for the knob but paused when you saw her bite her lip. Christ almighty! What was going on between you?
She stepped forward, you stepped forward and just as her hand reached for your cheek, the car outside honked it’s horn. You opened the door and left without another word, crisis avoided.
-
The next week you started filming Season 2. The second you climbed into the van, Kyle, one of the technicians started laughing.
“What is going on?” You asked him.
“Don’t ask.” Billie said and she turned in her seat so you could see her roll her eyes.
“Take a look at this.” He said and handed you his phone.
It was a website called, ‘Archive Of Our Own’. “What is this?” You asked.
“People are writing fanfiction about you and Billie.” He said.
“Huh?”
“They want us together, Darling.” Billie explained, waving the hand with her unlit cigarette in it. “The fans and they’ve written about it.”
“Oh no no no no,” said Kyle beaming, “They’ve written about it explicitly.” He took his phone back, clicked something and then handed it back to you, “Look at this one.”
Before common sense could catch up with you, you started to read, then your eyes nearly bulged out of your head, “People are writing about this?”
“I know darling, ridiculous.” She chuckled. You noticed she was calling you darling more frequently and you found that you were starting to crave it.
“They think between the two of us you’d use the strap?” You huffed, “It would obviously be me!”
You watched her jaw drop, her throat bob, her cheeks redden and you think she may even have stopped breathing for a moment.
You laughed, “Speechless sweetheart? Never thought I’d see the day.” and you headed to your seat in the back next to James, who was thankfully, equally as speechless.
-
A few days later Kyle said he had a gift for you and Billie and invited you both into the van. He said it was for a successful pilot and for starting season 2, but then Billie opened it and it was a bright pink dildo and harness. Her jaw hardened and she left the toy in the van before storming out. Kyle was still laughing when you shoved him into one of the monitors on your way out.
hey just saying, maybe it’s you? i’ve tried to dm you before and it’s said that you can’t receive messages. not the first time a tumblr’s messages got deactivated. maybe staff can help! 💘👩🏻❤️💋👩🏻
Nah, wasn’t me. It was them. The person I was referring to contacted me with a new account. But that’s odd it’s saying you can’t 🤔 I’ll look into it
vanilla extract smells wonderful but tastes horrific on its own. but mixed with sugar and flour and cream it tastes just like it smells. we need the support of others to reach our full potential
gummygunk
blakekathryn
germansingergirl
