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sodapop-1986 · 1 year

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fanfic II

Warning: language and smut

It was late that night, when Albert entered his condo with me at his heels. I had a blanket wrapped around me and rolling a suitcase. He took the blanket off of me and looked at me. I wore a pair of old sneakers, an oversized grey sweatshirt, and a pair of grey cut-off sweatpants. He grimaced at my sleep attire. He began stripping my clothes off.

"Take off your shoes."

I took off my shoes and socks. Then he had me take off my panties as well. There I was standing naked in his livingroom.

"No more ugly gaudy jewlery or untasteful make-up. I love silver jewlery and natual or subtle make-up. I have natual colored make-up and beautiful silver jewlery that's very subtle."

"So I really didn't have to bring anything?"

"No. I hope you don't mind wearing black."

"Is black your favorite color?"

"Yes. And it is a very sexy color. I have something you'll be wearing to bed."

He held up a black silky spaghetti strapped top and matching shorts. I put them on. They fit but the shorts were a little too short. When I bent down, my butt cheeks hung out of them. I saw him staring at my butt. My breasts were hanging out of the top.

"Albert, did you know my butt was showing?" I asked, seeing a smirk on that sexy face.

"Yes. I want to see what your breasts look like."

I stood up and turned to face him.

"I love your large breasts. Your nipples look hard."

'Oh god! Was I turning him on?!' I thought. I walked over to him pressing my body against him as I threw my arms around his waist. My breasts wear oozing out of the top.

He picked me up and carried me to his bedroom.

"Albert, where are we going?" I asked, as he opened the door. He carried me to his bed and laid me down gently.

"Oh god Lindsay. You are so beautiful."

I sat up and took the top off and threw it to the floor. I sat there, half naked as he began taking off his S.T.A.R.S. uniform.

My breathing became heavy. I was getting turned on seeing his washboard abs, muscular biceps and thighs. Oh god! That cock! It was making me hot. My core throbbed for him and I could feel my shorts getting wet.

"Do you want me?" He asked.

I bit my lip and nodded.

"How bad do you want me, darling?" He asked stepping on the bed with his knee. He inched on all fours toward to me. I wished he would hurry it up.

"Why are you taking so long?" I whined.

"So impatient," he said with a chuckle. "Lay down."

I laid down. He stopped and sat on my thighs. Albert hooked his index fingers in the elastic band of my shorts. He then slowly pulled them down. He gotten back on my knees, inching off of me, taking my shorts with him. He stood on the foot of the bed holding my shorts.

"They feel wet. Do I excite you?" He asked tossing my shorts on the floor.

"Yes! You're teasing me, Albert."

He smirked as he crawled back towards me. He kissed my legs as he came towards me. Then he stopped at my yearning cunt. I spread my legs apart for him. Albert spread my folds exposing my throbbing clit to the cold air. My juices were seeping out of my hole. He bent down and began licking.

I gasped and moaned. "Oh Albert," I moaned.

He stuck his tongue in my hole. He began licking up my juices like a dog thirstily licking water. I had cummed hard. I had screamed loudly. Albert sat up surprised. His mouth covered with my cum. I saw it dripping down his chin onto his chest.

"Oh god! I am so sorry, Albert. I forgot I squirt when I cum," I said embarrassed.

He looked shocked and speechless.

"Say something," I said with fear in my voice.

"Wow! That was incredible. I've never had that happen to me before. That turned me on. I think you cummed in my mouth to."

I just looked at him in shock. I think now was my turn to be speechless.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" I stuttered.

He smiled. "I love you so much. More than you think."

He wiped the cum off and lubricated his cock with it.

"Get on your knees and face the wall."

I did as he said and faced the wall on all fours. I turned my head and gave him a sexy smirk.

"Come and get me, daddy?" I said in a sexy voice.

Albert smirked and rammed his dick into my wet pussy.

"OH ALBERT!!!!!" I screamed. He dug his fingers into my thick hips and began pounding me mercilessly.

"Playtime is over, Lindsay. Let me show you what I can really do. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you're not going to walk straight," he said picking up his pace.

My breathing became heavy and I moaned loud.

"GIVE IT TO ME, ALLLLLBERT!!!!!!" I yelled in ecstasy.

"Yes, baby! Scream for me," he said through gritted teeth.

My orgasm washed over me. I lost myself. Then I felt something warm released into me. Albert had stopped and he began shaking and breathing hard. Then he grunted. when he was done, he fell onto the bed in a sweaty heap. I laid down in his arms sweaty mess. I laid my head on his sweaty chest. I heard the pounding of his heart and rise and fall his heavy breathing. My heavy breathing was matching his.

"How was that, darling?" He asked holding me in his strong embrace.

"Wow. So you were holding back today?"

"No. I was being gentle with you. This proves you can handle a little roughness."

"You like to be a "little" rough? You fucked me like a ragdoll."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes. Did you wear a codom?"

He didn't say a word. I looked up at him and saw his eyes widen.

"I think I forgot."

"You're what?! Albert, I'm only Fifteen. I can't get pregnant."

"You're what?! I can't believe I fucked a fifteen year old girl. I work at the police department and I've statutorily raped you. I thought you were at least eighteen. We just won't tell anyone your real age."

"What if I do wind up pregnant? You're not going to leave me, are you?"

"Of coarse not. I'm not that kind of man. I want to be a father for this child. I want to take care of the both of you.

I felt relieved. I've had to give it up if he didn't want to be with me anymore.

He started kissing me passionately, inching his way to my neck. Albert began biting and sucking on my neck.

"Are you up for another round?" I asked enjoying his foreplay.

He looked at me again. "I just wanted to kiss you. I'm a bit tired, my dear."

"I'm tired to."

We fell asleep. He put proctive arms around me. I felt safe in his embrace.

**********

I Woke up with an urge to have to pee. I tried to move without disturbing him. He was halfway on top of me with his leg slung over both of my legs. I couldn't move.

"Albert, baby," I whispered, "can you move?"

He didn't budge nor did he move. I inhaled deeply, taking in his natural scent. I knew he was too heavy to move.

"Albert, baby," I said a little louder.

"What?" He asked sleepily.

"I have to use the bathroom."

"Ok," he said sleepily. Then he rolled over on his left side.

I gotten up. I could feel the stickiness in between my thighs. His cum had already made my thighs sticky. I could also smell him on me. I looked around the room, the moon illuminating some of the walls. There was no decor on the walls. No pictures. Nothing.

I put my pajamas back on. My wetness made the shorts a bit stiff and uncomfortable. I into the hall. Nightlights lined the wall to guide the way. Even the hall walls were bare as well.

I went to the room across the wall. I opened the door and peeked inside. The room was baren as well. It wasn't used as a guest room nor was it used for storage. It was cold and the moon shone through. I shivered as I closed it quietly.

I could tell the heat was on but not in the spare room. Then I walked to the door at the end of the hall. I turned the knob. To my dismay, it was locked. I was curious why it was locked. I jiggled the knob. Still nothing. I turned to the door door to my right. I turned the knob. At least this door opened. I stepped inside. The rush of warm air hit me in the face. I stepped and turned the light on. To my surprise, the bathroom was clean. It smelled clean but there wasn't any air freshener though. There was a garden tub big enough for two and a large walk-in shower. The walls were bare in here as well. I felt like being nosy and see what was in his medicine cabinet. There was vitamins and supliments, toothpaste, a tube of hair gel, shaving cream, and a razor. There was a black toothbrush holder, a matching cup, a matching soap dispenser, and a matching black trash can. At least he got matching bathroom stuff. That counts for something.

I went pee. I noticed he didn't have any toilet paper. So I dicided to search for it in the cabinet under the sink. I found a perfect pyramid of toilet paper. I took a roll and used it. I found cum on it and cum in the toilet.

When I was done, I flushed, washed my hands turned off the light, and left.

When I was in the hall I gently closed the door quietly. I walked down the hall quietly to the livingroom. I hadn't noticed the livingroom before. It was like every room, bare of personality. There wasn't a single picture of him, his family, or friends. Or even wall decor. I looked towards the kitchen. The same. Nothing on the walls either. I walked over to the black leather couch and matching black arm chair. Where there should had been a tv. There were bookshelves. I walked over to take a closer look at the books. I had seen Steven King, Anne Rice, and alot of medical books on the shelves.

I took it that he liked to read. I took Pet Sematary off the shelf. I laid on the couch, making myself comfy. I turned on the endtable lamp and began reading. I had never read a Steven King novel and it was good. I read until I drifted off to sleep again.

**********

I woke up to the shower going. I was half asleep when I stumbled to the bathroom. As I entered the steam rose and fogged up the mirror. I subconsciously began undressing and stepping into the shower. I hugged someone infront of me.

"Where were you, Lindsay?" I heard Albert say.

"Couch," I muttered sleepily.

He brought me to the front of him.

"Bend over," he whispered into my ear.

I obediently bent over, grabbing hold of the bathwater spout.

He took his dick and teased my entrance.

"You are very submissive to me," he whispered again. "You should always know who your master is."

He grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his hand. Then he rammed his dick into my pussy. I woke up fully as Albert thrusted into me. I moaned as he sped up. I felt him rubbing my clit with one finger and roughly tugging on my hair with his hand.

"Albert, I am yours and only yours," I moaned.

"Don't forget that," he grunted.

I felt my orgasm overcoming me. I felt Albert cumming inside of me as well. He let go of my hair and his other hand left my pussy. He pulled out. He moaned in satisfaction.

"What are you doing up this early?" I asked

"I am an early riser. I can see you can use some more sleep." He bathed me and washed my hair. Then he dried me off and carried me to his bedroom. He put on me, a fresh clean nightgown. Then put me back to bed.

**********

I woke up stretching and yawning. I looked down and saw a black see-through nightie. I crawled out of bed and walked into the livingroom to find Albert sitting on the couch facing away from me.

"Morning, sexy," I said as I leaned over the couch arm rest, puckering up my lips.

He looked up from his morning paper with his coffee cup in hand.

"Good morning, darling," he said with a smile, "did you sleep well?"

I nodded with my lips still puckered up.

He leaned in and gave me a kiss.

"What's on the agenda for today?" I asked.

"Nothing I can think of. Why?"

"Nothing. I want to be with you."

"I will be here unless they call me in."

"I hope not. Then I'll be bored."

"I'll buy you a television set and one of those video cassette players so you won't be."

"Albert. I want you all to myself. I'm a girl with needs. If you catch my drift."

He chuckled to himself. "I can try to be here with you but I can not make any promises." Then he sat his cup on his coaster, his paper and it down on his glass coffee table.

"Are you hungry? I can make us some breakfast," I said heading towards the kitchen.

"No thank you, dear. I just ate this morning but feel free to make yourself something."

I rolled my eyes and poured me some coffee. I added some hazlenut creamer and splenda to it. I had noticed he had licked the spoon and sat it on a spoon holder. I took the spoon and stirred my coffee. Then I licked the spoon and placed it back where it was. I joined him on the couch.

"I noticed you licked the spoon again," I said taking a sip of my coffee.

"It is a bad habit. I don't think you mind it too much."

"No. I licked it to. Do you mind my germs?" I asked with a little giggle.

"No. We do kiss. So it's not bad." He took another coaster and placed it infront of me on the coffee table.

"You're neat and tidy for a bachelor," I said taking another before placing it on the coaster.

"I have minor OCD and I am also very germafobic. I am very oranized as well."

"Wow. I'm not too organized and I have very weird pet peeves."

"Like what?"

"I don't like touching glass windows with my bare hands, handshakes, grease on my hands stickiness on my hands, metal being scraped on concrete, smelly hands, or dirty fingernails."

"You do have rather peculiar and interesting pet peeves."

I curled up with him.

"Does this nightie turn you on?" I asked.

"Very much but I can reframe myself."

I crawled into his lap and began rubbing my pussy on his dick putting my breasts in his face.

"How about now?"

"I don't think I can concentrate," he said grabbing my arms and pulling me away from him. "Would you like me to take you into the bedroom?"

"How about right here, right now," I said.

I gotten up and and he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his button and unzipped his zipper. He had pulled out his erection. I sat on him his dick easily entered in my pussy. My core dripping wet, throbbing, yearning for him. I bounced on him, my breasts bouncing with every thrusts. He hooked his thumbs into the straps and pulled them down, exposing my breasts. He licked and suckled them. He was causing me to get even wetter. He easily entered my cervix.

"GOD!!!" I screamed. When his mouth left my nipples, I could feel cold air them. They hardened and were pointed.

"Oh my god. Lindsay, you are so beautiful."

Just as we were cumming, the phone rang.

"No. I was almost cumming," he said angrily.

He pushed me off of him and stomped over to his cordless and answered it.

"Hello," he growled. "You are inviting me to your house for Thanksgiving? Yes. Yes. I'll bring Lindsay with me. Yes, Barry. We are dating."

He hun up and went to the bedroom. I followed after him putting my nightie back on.

"What's going on?" I asked as I entered our bedroom.

"Berry invited us to his house for a Thanksgiving dinner. We need to get ready."

"Ok."

Before I knew it, Albert gotten my outfit and shoes for me. He picked out my jewlery, and had my make-up ready.

"Get ready. Straighten your hair as well and fix it nicely.

I gotten dressed in silky crotchless panties and a see-through bra, with a black long sleeved turtle neck and corteroy knee length skirt.

I straightened my hair and put a large black clip in it.

I started on my make-up last. Albert stood behind me. He instructed me on how much to use.

After I applied the powder foundation I did some blush.

"Take it easy on the rouge. Put on one layer."

"I thought rouge was red. This is a light pink blush."

I put on a swift coat of light peach eye shadow. When I was done, the natural shades were almost nonexistent. The lipstick was so light that it matched my naturally red lips.

"How do I look?" I asked turning around on my stool to face him.

"You look beautiful. I took the liberty of handpicking your jewlery."

I saw a beautiful silver necklace with a small "A" on it. He placed the necklace around my neck and put a plain silver bracelet on my wrist.

"Oh Albert. They're beautiful."

Then I found two small diamond earrings and put them on. He had good subtle taste in jewlery. I found my light pink watch and put it on.

"Now how do I look?" I asked standing up and twirling in my outfit.

"You need pantyhose, dress shoes, and a light spritz of perfume. Then you'll be done."

I went to our bureau and rumaged through all the drawers.

"Albert. I can't find any pantyhose. I found some thigh high stockings."

"Yes. That's right. I bought you thigh length stockings and garter belts. There are lots of lacey garter belts. I find them very sexy."

"That means I have to get undressed to put it on?"

"Just your skirt."

I unzipped my skirt and lifted up my shirt. Albert put it around my waist and hooked it like a bra. Then he went through the bottom drawer where he kept my sexy lingerie. He took out two sheer thigh stocking with lacey trims. I put them on and he took the straps and connected them. He gave me a pair of women's dress shoes. I slipped them on. I found an expensive bottle of perfume and spritzed it onto my neck and wrists.

"Mmm. Smells like roses. What is it?"

"Au'delore," he said in a french acsent. "I am wearing Au'deore."

His cologne smelled of pine. I could get lost in the scent.

"Albert, you smell sexy," I said.

I had looked him up and down. He wore a button down black dress shirt with three of his buttons undone with his sleeves rolled a quarter of the way, a black pair of tight dress slacks, black dress shoes, and a silver watch. Of course I can't forget his sunglasses. Heaven forbids if I do.

He looked and smelled sexy. I wanted to rip his Clothes off and fuck him again.

"Are we ready?" I asked, wanting to get it over with so we can finish what we started in the livingroom.

"Yes."

**********

We stood on Barry Burton's door step. It was freezing cold. Albert wore a long black coat with the collar turned up, fancy black leather gloves, and a black scarf. I wore a black fur coat with fancy black leather gloves with bows on them and a black scarf. In other words we matched.

He rang the door bell. A big burly man with reddish brown hair answered the door.

"Wesker. I'm glad to see you sir. This must be Lindsay. You're a cute little one," he said with a warm fatherly smile. "Come in. Come in."

He stood aside and we stepped in.

"Captain, good to see you, sir. Lindsay, you lookin' good, girl," Chris said standing up and shaking Albert's hand. "Barry told us you were dating."

"Yes. Redfield, she still works for me and will not get any special attention from me."

"I sure as hell hope not," a man with a mustache said.

"Lindsay. You've aready met Chris Redfield, Joseph Frost, and Forest Speyer. This is the captain of Bravo team Erico Marini, Kenneth Sullivan, Richard Aiken, and Barry Burton was the one that answered the door. Is Valentine here?"

"Yes, sir. She's in the kitchen with Cathy. Lindsay can join them if she wants," Barry said taking our coats, gloves, and scarves.

"Yes. Good idea. Lindsay, dear, go join the ladies in the kitchen," he said patting me on the butt.

I walked into the kitchen to find two brunette women standing by the sink enyoying some wine.

"Hello, hun. You must be Wesker's girlfriend," one of the ladies said. "I'm Cathy Burton. Would you like some wine?"

"I can't," I said. "I'm under twenty-one. I'm eighteen."

"Wow! Wesker gotten a girlfriend that is barely legal. He's old enough to be your dad."

"I have a thing for older men," I said.

"So how long have you and Wesker been dating?" Cathy asked.

"For a while."

I was hoping and praying no one find out I was uderaged.

"Well I'm Jill Valentine. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I work for Wesker," the other brunette said.

"Why do you call him Wesker not Albert?" I asked.

"Because he'll be pissed if we call him by his first name," Jill said.

I politely smiled and nodded.

"So would you like some nonalcoholic eggnog, Lindsay?" Cathy asked.

"Sure," I said.

I saw Mrs. Burton walk over to the far end of the kitchen and poured some eggnog for me from a large punchbowl. Then walked back over to me and handed me a solo cup. I took a sip. It was better than my sister, Danni's eggnog. It had nutmeg and cinnamon.

"We have two minutes until the turkey gets done."

My stomach growled. I realized I hadn't eaten all day. The wonderful smells of pies and turkey made my mouth water.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the timer for the turkey went off.

"Do you girls want to help me set the table?" Cathy asked.

We helped set the table with paper plates, plastic eating utensils, and disposible napkins.

"Lindsay. I hope you don't mind," Cathy said. "Cuts down on the dishes."

"I don't mind," I said.

"Boys! Dinner's ready!" Jill yelled.

All the S.T.A.R.S. men came running into the dinningroom. Albert strolled in last. He leaned against the frame of the doorway with his arms folded. As I strolled into the room from the kitchen with my cup in hand, I saw Albert staring at me. God, he looked so sexy. I noticed a beer bottle in his hand. I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes.

"What are you drinking?" He asked as I walked over to him.

"Nonalcoholic eggnog," I said.

"You do know it would be illegal for Cathy to serve an underage girl alcohol in a home full of police officers," he said seriously.

"You do know it's illegal to have sex with a minor," I whispered

"Touche, my dear," he whispered back and bent down to kiss me.

Everyone looked at us as we shared our kiss.

"Get a room, Wesker," Enrico said.

"Awe. They are cute together. Aren't they, Barry?" Cathy asked.

"Yeah. Weker, when are you and your significant other going to join us or are you going to lock lips with each other?" Barry asked

We walked to the long table and sat down. Barry sat at the head of the table.

"Anyone want anymore beer?" Cathy asked.

Everyone but Albert held up empty beer bottles. They wanted more beer. So Cathy and Jill went to fetch more beer. I was the only girl in the room full of men. They came back with seven beers.

"What do you want to drink, Wesker," Cathy asked.

"I'll take wine, thank you," he said.

"Ok. Jill, would you like your glass topped off?" Mrs. Burton asked before she disappeared into the kitchen again. "Lindsay, you like some more eggnog?"

"Yes, please," Jill said.

"I would love some more eggenog, thank you," I said.

Mrs.Burton took my cup and went back into the kitchen. It didn't take her too long to return with the wine bottle, a wineglass, and my eggnog.

She topped off Jill's glass, poured Albert a glass and gave me my eggnog. Then she took her place by Barry.

"Barry. Do you mind saying grace?" She asked her husband. "

"Yeah." Then he started saying grace.

Albert turned to me and began kissing my neck.

"Albert! Barry is in the middle of saying grace," I whispered.

Then he put his fingers into my pussy. He had gotten my pussy wet. He ran wet circles on my clit.

I grabbed his arm trying to pull him. He was stronger than I was and kept his hand there.

"Relax and let me do this," he whispered into my ear.

"Not infront of everyone," I whispered back. "You know how I squirt when I cum."

"I don't care. If I want something, by god I am going to have it."

I just closed my eyes and bit back a moan as I cummed. My eyes widened as I squirted all over his hand, my seat, and the carpeted floor.

"Amen," Barry finally finished. Then he carved the turkey.

Albert brought his hand up and began sucking my cum off of his fingers.

"Everything looks delicious, Cathy," he said as if nothing has just happened.

When everyone gotten their food, they ate and talked amongst themselves.

I was eating and starting to have a good time.

"Hey Lindsay. Maybe you can keep Wesker happy," Chris said with a laugh. "Maybe we can have some enjoyable days."

"Yeah," I said grabbing what I thought was my drink and took a drink.

Everyone else laughed but Albert. He didn't seem too happy about that.

"Dammit, Lindsay!" He snapped. "That was my wine."

"Sorry, Albert," I said rubbing my tummy in pain. Then I started feeling cold and my stomach was feeling hot like I wanted to throw up. "Cathy may I please use your bathroom."

"Oh boy," Barry said. Cathy, remember when you took a sip of wine when you were pregnant with Moira."

"Yes. Lindsay follow me."

I gotten up and followed Cathy to her bathroom.

"Lindsay. Are you alright, darling?" Albert asked concerned.

As soon as Cathy opened the door I fell to the floor and threw up the contents in my stomach. Jill showed up. As I was throwing up, I began crying.

"I am so sorry I ruined your dinner, Cathy," I said.

"It's alright."

She gotten into the linen closet and gotten out a box. Jill gotten a washrag rinse it in cold water and began wiping my face the way my mom did when I was sick, when I was younger.

Cathy handed me the box.

"What is this?" I asked looking at the box.

"It's a pregnacy test."

"What?!" I opened the box took out a stick in a wrapper. I ripped off the wrapper.

"A pink plus sign means you're pregnant. You have to urinate on this part," Cathy said.

I took off the cap and peed on it.

"It takes five minutes. If you want Wesker to be the first to know, you can go to the guest room for some privacy. The guest room is the door to your right in the dinningroom."

"Thank you," I said.

When I was done peeing, I recapped the test and sat it on the sink vanity. I washed my hands and gurgled with some water and Jill gave me a solo cup to put mouthwash in. I put a shot of mouth wash in it and gurgled with it. Then we rejoined everyone.

"Lindsay, darling. Are you ok? Do you need to go to thw emergency room?" Albert asked again, more concerned.

"No hunny. I'm fine," I said with a smile, then I turned to Cathy and said, "has it been five minutes?"

"You have three minutes left," she said.

"Do you want to finish your meal?" He asked.

"No. I lost my appetite."

"I'll make you a plate and desserts to take with you," Cathy said with a warm smile. "It's been five minutes."

Then I gotten up and ran to the bathroom. As soon as I was in the bathroom, I checked the test. My eyes grew wide when I saw a pink plus sign. I slid the pregnacy test in my sleeve. I went back to the dinningroom.

When I reentered the dinningroom, I walked over to Albert and whispered his ear, "I got something I need to tell you in private."

He looked at me, cocking an eyebrow. "What?"

I took him by the hand and guided him into the guest room.

When we were inside alone, I closed the door and turned on the bedside lamp. I slid the pregnacy out of my sleeve.

"What is it you wanted to tell me, darling?"

I walked over to the bed and sat down. I patted the bed for him to sit down.

"Come sit down."

"I'd rather stand, love. Tell me why we're alone."

I gave a sigh and handed him the pregnacy test.

He looked at it and started tapping it on his palm.

"I'm pregnant. We're having a baby. That's a pregnacy test."

"What? We're having a baby?" He was shell shocked.

"Aren't you happy?" I asked getting up. "I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Oh god, yes," he said with a smile, picking me up into his arms and spinning me around.

"Should we tell everyone in the dinningroom?" I asked.

"No. Not yet. I'll tell them when the time is right."

"When should I tell my parents?" I asked.

"Whenever you'd like. But first we celebrate."

"Ok," I said heading towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going, beautiful?" He asked grabbing me from behind. "Since we're alone, I want to finish what we started."

"But this is Barry's home,"

"This'll only take five minutes," he said as he unzipped his pants.

Oh god. Without thinking, began stripping off my clothes.

I saw that he was jerking off. "This'll make me cum faster." Then he sat down on a cushioned bench by an antique vanity. "Sit on me," he ordered.

I sat on his dick. He rolled over and somehow managed to get on top of me.

"I am always on top. Don't you forget it."

He thrusted into me at one go. I could tell he was trying to make it fast.

"Albert. Not here."

"Why not? He interupted us. I'd say he owes us this much," he said through gritted teeth.

He sped up his thrusting. I could see it in his eyes, when he cummed. Oh god was it magical.

My eyes widened as I cummed.

"Now what?" I asked.

To Be Cont.

#albert wesker

6 notes · View notes

twiceinadream · 3 years

Text

“Yeogi, yeogi, yeogi.”

Requested: Yup

Request: Momo is unable to escape her dorm on Valentine's Day so instead, y/n sneaks into the dorm

a/u: Hey, everyone! I didn’t realize it was already Friday I’ve been so busy this week, so sorry if this seems a little weird I wrote this over a month ago and just finished it today. I hope you still enjoy this Valentine’s prompt. I love you guys!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Momo sat in front of JYP with a scowl prominent on her face as he shook his head, “I’m sorry Momo-ssi, but I can’t have you going out and about with Y/N-ssi on Valentine’s.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose, “It’s just too easy for you and Y/N to be recognized and I don’t want the media swarming the two of you.” Jinyoung trailed off at the end, clearing his throat before frowning, “I’m sorry Momo, I really am.”

The Japanese girl ran a hand through her hair as she tried to play off her sadness, “It’s fine, I understand.” Her voice was sullen as she exited his office and left the building. Resisting the urge to cry in the van till she returned back to their dorm, just wanting to cuddle with Boo and Dobby before she told you she would have to cancel the plans you had made. Mentally preparing herself for the disappointment she would hear on the other end of the line when she broke the news to you, sometimes she hated being an idol.

It didn’t take long to get from the company back to Twice’s dorm as Momo stared at your contact, resisting the urge to call you until she got inside as she thanked the driver and headed up. Her head hit the wall of the elevator as she rode it to their floor, her heart sinking into her stomach as she entered the shared dorm to find Sana, Nayeon, and Tzuyu sitting in the living room. Expectant looks on their faces as Nayeon raised an eyebrow at her, noticing how Momo’s shoulders were slumped forward and she looked like someone had just told her she’d have to give up jokbal.

The eldest bit her lip as she made eye contact with the third oldest, “How’d it go?” The question was stupid, Nayeon knew that, but decided to ask anyway. And with the way Momo just stared at her for a second before leaving down the hall, she got all the answers she needed, “I guess that’s a, ‘No’.”

Tzuyu deadpanned the sole Korean, “You don’t say Unnie.”

The sound of bickering followed Momo down the hall as she opened the door to her, Sana, and Nayeon’s shared room. Boo and Dobby lounging on the bed as they got up the instant the door opened, happy yips coming from both of them as they saw their owner enter the room. Their tails wagging as Momo laid on the bed, a soft smile gracing her lips as they cuddled into her sides. A frown taking over her smile as she smiled heavily, cuddling the two dogs as she felt tears sping into the corner of her eyes.

The Japanese girl burried her head in their fur as she let a soft sob from her lips, ‘Why couldn’t she just see you like every other couple on Valentine’s?’ She continued to cry till she eventually fell asleep, sad looks on Sana and Nayeon’s face as they listened on the other side of the door. They hated seeing any of their members sad, Momo especially since she wasn’t really asking for much.

That was when Tzuyu came up behind them, “I have an idea.” The maknae said, scaring the two older girls as she made them jump.

Sana held her hand to her chest as she spun around to face the Taiwanese girl, “Jeez! And what would that be?”

Tzuyu smiled, her dimple showing, “I need to make a few calls and you’ll see.”

-The Next Morning-

The sound of loud voices in the kitchen is what roused Momo when she realized she fallen asleep crying, her eyes her puffy and dry as she dragged herself out of bed. Her head felt like it was pounding when she noticed that Boo and Dobby were gone but the door to the bedroom was open. But by the sound in the kitchen she figured that one of girls had taken them out of the room.

The Japaneee girl didn’t even bother to fix herself as she headed towards the kitchen, just wanting to get a strong cup of coffee before she had to call you. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought of letting you down so early in the morning, but continued her trek down the hall when she spotted most of her members already dressed in the kitchen, “Are we going somewhere?”

At the sound of Momo’s voice the five other girls stopped what they were doing, staring at the main dancer. Before the front door suddenly opened: Sana, Nayeon, Tzuyu, and a hooded figure stumbled in, barely registering that the Japanese girl was there when the three turned the hooded figure around so that they were facing the door. A bright smile on Sana’s face as she looked at her best friend, “Momoring, you’re up! We have a surprise.”

The glee in the younger’s voice made her raise an eyebrow, “Do I need to change?” They stifled a laugh as Nayeon turned the hooded figure back around, and time seemed to slow in Momo’s eyes as the figure slowly lifted the hood to reveal, “Y/N?”

You smiled brightly at your girlfriend’s reaction, shooting her a wink, “The one and only.”

“How did you…?” Your girlfriend’s voice trailed off as she resisted the urge to cry, her body flooding with so many emotions when Boo and Dobby circled around her ankles.

You crossed the distance between the two of you as you wrapped her in a hug, “I got a call from Tzu last night saying that the company wouldn’t let you go out today. So Yoda, the snake, and a bunny snuck me in so I could be with you.”

Momo’s jaw dropped as she looked at her members who were putting on their shoes, “Wait, where are you guys going?”

Jihyo smiled as she motioned to the cabinets and fridge, “We put a little something together for the two of you, enjoy your day together and we’re all staying at Jeong’s sister’s place tonight, so use your time wisely.” The leader winked, making you and Momo blush a deep shade of red.

“Th...thank you.” The dancer said earnestly, going over to hug each of the members as they left.

“Of course Momo Unnie.” Tzuyu smiled, pushing her back towards you, “Now go have fun.” And with that: you, Momo, and the dogs were left alone.

It was had gotten late into the evening, with a day filled with rom-com marathons and snacks when you both started craving real food. Momo was leaning against you when she felt your stomach rumble, the sound making her laugh, “Aww, is my poor baby hungry?”

But before she could get another word in, her stomach began making the same noise as you stuck out your tongue, “I guess that makes two of us.”

Momo pouted as you both got off the couch, stumbling your way into the kitchen as you pulled open the fridge. Finding a few miscellaneous items, some chocolate covered strawberries (which you made a mental note of) before you saw a jar of half finished pasta sauce, you held it up to your girlfriend, “Spaghetti?”

The Japanese girl turned to look at you as she was rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out a box of pasta, “Perfect! And I think we might have meatballs in there.” You opened up one of the drawers to find the package she was talking about, only to find fuzz covered meat.

“Momoring, these are spoiled.” You cringed as you quickly threw it away, not wanting to look at it anymore, “Guess we’re back to just pasta and sauce.”

Your girlfriend shrugged, “At least we still have some food.” You nodded as you began taking out a few pots.

“True, and we haven’t burned anything yet.

-A Few Moments Later-

“Omg, Y/N! The pasta is burning!” The sound of the smoke detector going off didn’t help the fact you were now frantically running to the pot of burning water as you threw it in the sink.

“How did we burn water!?” You looked at your girlfriend in shock as a beat of silence passed between you two. You both held each other’s state for a second longer before you both burst out laughing, “I probably jinxed us earlier.”

Momo giggled as she went to hug you, knocking her fist against the wooden chopping board, “We forgot to ‘knock on wood’ Y/N-Chan.”

You nodded, “Without a doubt, but what are we gonna do now?” But before Momo could answer the sound of a knock sounded throughout the dorm, you cocked an eyebrow as you went to open the door. Not wanting the delivery person to know this was Twice’s dorm, “Can I help you?”

The man on the other side held up two plastic bags, “Food delivery for L/N Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, “That’s me.” He nodded as he handed you the bag.

“There you go, have a nice night.” You thanked him before closing the door, walking back to a sheepish looking Momo.

You looked between her and the bags when it suddenly clicked, “You knew the food was going to burn!”

The Japanese girl pursed her lips to prevent from laughing as she held her hands up in defense, “No, I just...um. Wanted to be prepared?”

You shook your head in disbelief as you placed the food in front of her, letting out an offended gasp, “Even my own girlfriend doesn’t trust my cooking skills.”

She deadpanned, “Y/N, you burned water.”

“Did not! The pasta caught fire!” You crossed your arms like a child as Momo began laughing, her eyes crinkling as you couldn’t help but smile too, “But, good call.”

—

You let out a content sigh as you finally bagged up the last of your guy’s dinner before you found a note left on the table, ‘Come and get your dessert -Momoring <3.

You quirked an eyebrow as you noticed the door to Momo’s room was cracked open and a small stream of light was peeking out into the hallway. A smile broke out onto your lips as you made your way to the partially opened door, hastily making your way in as the sight before you made your breath catch in your throat.

Your girlfriend was clad in an ensemble that left little to the imagination as she sat with her knees parted at against the headboard. You swallowed hard as you looked her up and down, your cheeks felt hot under her gaze, “Is this for me?”

Momo had a coy smirk on her face as she made a come hither motion with her finger, “Happy Valentine’s Y/N-ah, come and open your present.”

You wasted no time shoving off your pants as your shirt quickly followed, making a pile on the floor as you ounces onto the bed. Connecting your lips in a heated kiss as you ran a hand over your girlfriend’s exposed abs, loving the way the muscle tensed under your touch as you moved to cup her breast. A breath moan falling from her lips as you pulled away, nipping and sucking at her neck as you left marks deep enough to show.

Your hand snaked behind her back as you quickly unclasped her bra and let the garment fall to the floor, enjoying the newly exposed skin as you took a stiffened nipple between your index and thumb before pinching it slightly. A gasp catching in the Japanese woman’s throat as you took the other into your mouth, swirling the stiffened peak with your tongue before releasing back into the chilly air of the room. Repeating the process with the other as you inched down a little further till you were eye level with her crotch, “May I?”

Momo nodded her head earnestly as you took the elastic of her panties between your fingers, pulling the fabric down slightly so that her hip was exposed. You kissed along the skin that made your girlfriend’s grip on your shoulder tighten as you teased her further, a desperate whine sounding from above as you finally let up, “Needy.”

The dancer pouted as you pulled her underwear off completely, a few strands of wetness still clinging to the material as her opening pulsed with need. Her pussy was pink and puffy with arousal her clit peeking ever so slightly from its hood as you placed a kiss and lick to the junction where her leg and sex met. A surprised moan falling from her lips as you blew a steady stream of air onto her heated core, “Y/N, please.”

You rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s impatience before leaving one last kiss to her inner thigh and diving straight in. Her body tensed as your tongue made its way into her opening, her juices hitting your lips as you ate her out. She tasted-ironically-a bit like peaches as you continued to lap up the essence that leaked out of her, you lifted two fingers to Momo’s mouth indicating for her to suck them as you worked on her lower half. Her tongue coating your digits in saliva before you pulled them away and repositioned them at her aching core. You teased her entrance with your middle finger before sinking in to the molten heat that was Hirai Momo’s sex, a releaved moan slipping from her lips when you added in another finger. Thrusting slowly as you felt for the rough patch of flesh against her frontal wall, resting it with an experimental tap to warm her before copying the come hither motion she had made before as your fingers lightly stroked her g-spot. A loud whine came out of the dancer as she fisted the bedsheets.

Satisfied with your fingers you used your free hand to lift the hood hiding your girlfriend’s swollen clit. The bud had a slight red hue from the neglect but it wouldn’t be like that for long as you left a lingering kiss against her clit, sliding your tongue along wet folds. Momo groaned happily as her hips canted against you, chasing your pliant mouth. With a throaty moan, she let go of the sheets to fondle her breasts, tweaking her nipples gently.

Momo groaned in delight, grinding against your face as you slowly fucked her with your fingers. Your chin was slick with her wetness and as she moaned, your hands drifting along her sides and belly.

You alternated between gentle suckles and broad strokes over her clit as she continued fondling her plump breasts, humming softly against her center as her walls clenched around your thrusting digits. She squealed in delight, grinding against your face, “Oh, yes...”

You couldn’t hold back your moan at the sound, you placed open-mouthed kisses along her slick folds. Before closing your lips around the fat swell of her clit, giving her a second to breath before sucking. Hard.

Momo let out a shriek as her hips jerked off your face, her orgasm gushing out of her in a sudden burst. Covering the lower half of your face with her release as her body shuddered with every wave of pleasure. A series of clipped pants was the only thing you heard before Momo finally came down from her high, carefully taking your fingers out of her as you moved to spoon her.

You smiled as your girlfriend’s bangs stuck to her sweaty forehead, a blissful smile on her face as you leaned down to kiss her, “How was it?”

“Amazing.” Her tone sounded breathless as she nuzzled into you, “What’s the damage?”

You smirked as you looked down at the dark bruises you left on her neck, using your index finger to point at them, “Let’s see, yeogi, yeogi, yeogi.” Momo scowled as you placed a kiss on her swollen lips, “Nea maeum.”

Your girlfriend looked at you for a second before pushing you off the bed, “No! You did not just use Chae’s song to describe my hickies!”

You laughed as you got up from the floor, “Well isn’t that what it’s about anyways?”

Momo rolled her eyes as she threw a pillow at you, “You’re sleeping on the couch.” You stuck your tongue out as you crawled back onto the bed.

“Admit it, you thought that was clever.” The dancer huffed as she turned away from you.

“Shut up.”

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simonsrosebud · 3 years

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Jack had a tough childhood (father left, depressed mom, younger siblings to take care of) but he refuses to talk about it to anybody other than Bee because he thinks it'll make him less tough

thank you anon for jack's backstory!! here's one of the top 5 worst days of jack's life, i'm sorry.

Jack Young was fine. He was fine.

Until April 27th. Freshman year.

He normally stuck to his room after school, after practice. He shared his bedroom with the washer and dryer, tucked away in his closet. He didn’t mind, really. His parents agreed not to run it at night, so he’s gotten used to the sound during the day. His mom was normally quiet enough unloading it on weekends if he was still asleep, and his dad never came down to the basement as it was.

It was better than sharing his old room with the little ones. Drew was always quiet for a baby, but the twins were in their terrible twos. They went more days with Mandy crying than not.

But on April 27th, both of his parent’s cars were in the driveway when he got off the bus. He hiked his exy bag further up his shoulder and wedged himself through the door, then stopped. Boxes lined the wall to his left, and three suitcases stood on the right. He set his duffle and his backpack down. He could hear his parents’ voices before he stepped inside, but they didn’t stop when he came into the kitchen, into view.

His or his siblings’ presence was usually enough for any arguing to stop until a later time. Normally, his father had enough control to table the discussion until he didn’t have an audience. He wasn’t subtle about it, and Jack knew there had been problems for years now, but he still had the mind to try and keep it concealed.

“-can’t just blame it on the fact that you’re sick up top!”

“What’s going on?” He stopped short at the end of the hallway. His dad stuttered to a stop. He was leant back against the kitchen counter with his hands bracing the edge. He wasn’t in his work clothes. “Did you take off early to see my game? It’s in an hour, Josh is already driving me, but if you’re going we can ride together,” he said. He wasn’t the reason. He made Varsity as a freshman and he was finally playing his first game in playoffs, but he wasn’t the reason his father took off work. He knew he wasn’t the reason, but there were boxes by the front door and his parents had been bickering behind his back for years. He was a realist, he thought, but he still didn’t want to think the worst.

Jack’s father stood straight, ran a hand down his face and scratched at his beard. “I- no, I forgot about the game, I’m sorry, but- no, no, I-I’m leaving.”

Jack’s face fell. “Where?” His voice was small. “Why? Are you going on a work trip?”

“No, Jack-”

“Well, where are you going?” His fingers were numb and twitching at his side.

Jack’s father slung a backpack around his shoulder, “Just- out of here, bud.” He slid past Jack, who grabbed his arm. “Jack.”

“Where are you going, Dad” He pursed his lips. “You can’t just say you’re leaving and not even say where to- is it cause Mom’s disorder?” His father paused. “Bipolar disorder. Bipolar one, I know about it.” He looked to his mother. “I’ve seen the pills in the medicine cabinet, I looked it up. You guys aren’t subtle- you’ve never been subtle. I know you fight when we’re not around, but-but you can still fix whatever’s wrong.”

His father sighed and pulled his arm out of Jack’s grip. “It’s not cause of that. Things have just changed, I can’t stay here anymore. Can’t fix everything.” He started down the hall. Jack didn’t know where the lying stopped and started with him.

Jack looked back to his mother. When she didn’t move, he followed his father out the door. Back and forth as he loaded boxes into his car. “You gonna help or what?”

The humidity caught on Jack as they walked from the door to the car. “No, I’m not gonna help you leave us. Are you crazy? Mom works all week and Saturdays, who’s supposed to watch the babies while I’m at practice on the weekend?” He grabbed his arm when he didn't answer. “Hey!”

His father spun around out of his hold. “I don’t know, Jack! Figure it out, you’ll be fine! Jesus, it’s one day, I need to get my shit sorted.” He turned to shut the trunk and made his way to the driver's side. “This is sudden for you, I know, but this is happening!” He slid into the car before Jack could get another word in and started it up.

“What about us!” Jack shouted. “What about me!” His father ignored him, put the car in reverse and turned his body to look out the back window. Jack pounded his fist against the window, and staggered after the car as it backed out. “Hey! Answer me, you coward!”

Jack’s mother wrapped her arms around her son to stop him from following the car but he thrashed against her. “No- No!” He blinked angry tears from his eyes and grunted as he broke out of his mother’s arms. “Why would you let him leave!”

She looked helpless. She was, it just wasn’t something Jack was able to notice in the moment. He was already fueled up on his own anger and helplessness. Confusion and devastation.

His mother shrugged with her arms out at her sides. “He would’ve left anyway, Jack.” She shook her head. “He would’ve left when you went to your game. He’s been planning on it for weeks, I tried to get him to stay, baby. I tried.” She turned as he shouldered past her. He came right back out of the house with his exy bag around his shoulders and snagged his bike from the side of the house.

“Oh, at least let me drive you-”

“No.”

He swung his leg over and started pedaling. His school was four and a half miles from home, but he couldn’t be in his house without his mother coming to bother him, and he couldn’t be in the car with her either.

The tears that fell onto his cheeks were cold, and the wind that whipped them from his face. The back peddle of the bike needed air. He wasn’t stopping to satisfy it.

“Fucking broken just like-” he gasped and swerved to the side to avoid being hit by a car screeching to a stop. There was a stop sign for both the bike path and the road, but Jack had gone right through it. “Jesus,” he panted. Not even wearing a helmet.

He dropped the bike against the rack in front of the school, just outside the gym doors. They were unlocked for the athletes coming and going, and in preparation for exy fans to come claim their spots in the stands ahead of time. The game wasn’t for another hour, but the student section usually filled up a half hour before serve. That meant he had maybe twenty minutes to himself.

Jack slipped into the locker room and into his gear, and gripped his stick tight as he walked onto the court. It was dimly lit. No one was supposed to be there yet. Good enough.

Jack only had a few balls, but he only had one drill in mind and a few were enough. It was a Raven solo rebound drill, nailing the ball in just the right spot that it would come right back to your net without having to move. Jack saw Kevin Day do it for all of maybe six seconds during warm ups when his friend brought him to a playoff game the year before. Ravens versus UNC, it was only an hour from them. It was spectacular.

He threw the ball until the lights flickered on, but didn’t stop until his coach called his name. “Nervous?” He didn’t answer, but collected his balls and headed for the door. His coach stopped him once he reached her side. “Hey. Don’t be nervous. You’re ready.”

All Jack could do was nod silently. This was the Varsity coach, she didn’t need his personal problems on her court. Not nearing the end of the playoffs.

So he stayed quiet until warm up, and he played so hard that he fell to his knees once the final buzzer sounded.

Lindsey Davidson, a senior and the team’s captain, curled her arm underneath his armpit and pulled him up against her. She was smiling, but her words were sharp in his ear. “You did good today, but I never want to see you blow out your whole body on the court again. That’s why we have subs.” He tried to lift himself from her side but she pulled him back close and walked him over to the others. “Can you walk?”

He nodded. He thought so, at least. “Um, I rode my bike here. It’s got a flat tire.”

“You can catch a ride with me and Bryce,” she said and passed him off to her cluster of cheering teammates.

Jack stood on his front porch for a good minute before he could step inside. When he did, his mother was waiting for him with dinner leftovers to heat up and his siblings all knocked out on the couches. “Spaghetti and meatballs, if you’re hungry,” she offered.

He nodded and collapsed at the table. His knees felt like they were creaking like an old door hinge. When his mother joined him at the table again he stared at his food. “What happened,” he mumbled. He looked up. “Why now? What happened that this was the last straw?”

She shrugged. Jack wanted to call her out, tell her to give him a real answer. Instead he looked away.

“You should have warned me this was coming.” She started to say something but barely got past the first syllable. “No. You said he was planning on leaving us for weeks. You knew the whole time.”

She looked defeated. Jack stood from the table with his food and left without a word down to his room.

#jack young #aftg #tfc #trk #tkm #the foxhole court #the foxes #freshmen #the one where someone doesn't know who kevin day is #kind of oc #palmetto state university #palmetto state foxes #exy #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #bisexual kevin day #kevin day x dalton miller #oc: dalton miller

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jon-sauve · 3 years

Text

Disco Lights (full short story)

The helicopters are swarming everywhere. The people from the news are all around, waiting, recounting the same information again and again to new viewers as they come; the door will be opened in ten minutes. Nine minutes. Eight, seven, six, five...

The door had been found a week before by a demolition crew working on an old parking garage. It had been set inside the wall, under three or four inches of concrete. The original builders were contacted, the blueprints procured, but as far as anyone knew the door should not be there.

Everyone was prepared to ignore it. Break it down, they said, let’s get on with our jobs. But there were the sounds, and the lights through the crack. Anyone who got within ten feet of the door keeled over in pain. There were headaches, stomach aches. Dental fillings cracked, eyes began to burn, hands trembled.

The door was marked as a health and safety hazard, and a hazmat crew was brought in to deal with it. One of them made it all the way up to the door and actually touched the handle. He woke up in the hospital later, having suffered a mild heart attack, and claimed to have heard voices telling him not to open it.

Open it? How could anyone open it? There was just concrete behind it, wasn’t there?

Someone had the idea of sticking a camera in through the crack below the door, where the lights came from. The camera failed almost immediately. All it managed to capture was a single dark frame, smeared across the middle by a vaguely human form.

After that everyone took a big step back. Word had started to spread about “the door” and people came to see it. Civilians at first, then news agencies. Finally, two days before the door was opened, the government showed up on the scene and barred everyone from entering. For their own good, they said. But they recognized the need of the masses to see what lay beyond the door, and set up live cameras for the “grand opening,” as one reporter put it with a smirk on his face.

What might be behind the door? Nothing, some said. Just some Christmas lights and a set of speakers blasting out weird noises. Maybe some sort of microwave device that messed you up when you got too close. Just a weird prank by the builders, maybe by some disgruntled person who had quit right afterward and disappeared.

The cameras were set up. Four people stood there, ten feet from the door. Medical personnel were on standby, ready for anything.

“If one of us suddenly explodes,” said one of the openers, “cut the cameras, alright?”

They approached the door. At eight feet the woman on the right started to feel it, even through her lead suit. Just a weird sort of feeling, like you get when going through a loop on a roller coaster.

As they got closer they all felt it. Waves of something hitting them. There were the sounds, and the lights, stabbing out from under the door.

“Opening in ten... nine...”

Thus went the countdown, and the openers kept going. Four of them, fighting a sudden and extreme sensation of illness and foreboding. They did their best, and reached the door at the count of two. They lingered for five or six more seconds. Someone reached out tentatively for the handle, then let their hand fall back down.

“I can’t,” he said. “You do it.”

The woman on the right seemed to think he was talking about her. With a spasmodic flick of her hand she grasped the handle, turned it, and pulled.

It was all darkness beyond. The city followed into darkness an hour later. But for several days afterward, there were screams as the last of them died.

---

They should not have opened the door.

Four days after, a man named Lonnie Howell was crouched at the foot of an escalator in a department store. He was ranging far right now, way too far; his shelter was six blocks away, six long and shadowy blocks. He had to wait here, staring out through the huge windows at the front of the store, and pick his time to run.

The wraiths kept going by. Invisible flying men, who cast a shadow of dancing rainbow lights. That was the only way to see them. Their shadow.

The wraiths went past, flying along the street, lights curving up and over cars and bus stops. They were stalking the dark city, seeking out the final survivors. For all Lonnie knew, he might be the last.

Maybe it would be good to get out of the city. Maybe not. Lonnie had climbed up some of the taller buildings around, getting onto the roofs and looking out. All dark beyond the city, too. Even now, at about eleven in the morning, just darkness. Except for the wraiths.

Lonnie hadn’t seen one for a little while. He’d been timing them. It seemed like one passed by every ten minutes on average. So he would wait for the next one, let it go by, wait a little bit longer, then make a dash for it. It could work; it had worked before.

Here came the lights now, flashing and blinking down the street. Lonnie froze, pulling back a little behind the potted plant he was crouched at. He twitched a little, and the cans in his pack rattled against each other. The wraith kept going. Lonnie counted ten Mississippi, got up, and booked it.

The cans rattled and rattled. They sounded ridiculously loud, especially when he got out onto the street. Lonnie weaved around cars, hopped over downed bicycles, skirted the messy remains of his fellow men. Back to sanctuary. Eventually, they would find him even there, but maybe he could live a bit longer. Maybe he could even think of a plan.

They all screamed when the wraiths got to them. Every last one screamed their heads off, as if that would save them. Lonnie bet the wraiths liked to see fear in their victims, and so he had decided that, whenever they got him, he would clamp his mouth shut and just act all bored. That would teach them.

Actually, no it wouldn’t, but Lonnie wasn’t going to die that other way.

There was a peculiar twilight in the city. Objects were only visible at a distance of ten feet. It helped that Lonnie had sharp reflexes, or else he’d be tripping and falling four times a minute. Plus he had traveled this way a few times, and sort of had a feel for it. Had it really only been four days?

Lonnie let himself go into his thoughts. It was either that or lose his mind with fear, alone like he was on the dark street. He started to imagine what he might eat tonight. He’d found a can of pasta sauce, and he already had a few packages of instant noodles. They were Asian flavor, but he could dispense with the seasoning packets and do a sort of spaghetti instead. There was that little bottle of grape juice, too. He could pretend it was wine. There were liquor stores, but those were farther away than he really dared to go.

Here was the laundromat, and the little restaurant across the street advertising four mini burgers for two dollars, plus a beer or a soft drink for an extra fifty cents. Good deal, Lonnie thought. The landmarks meant he was close to his hideout.

He slowed down a little. The road right up here was almost impassible; a bus had tipped over and a bunch of cars had crashed trying to get around it. Lonnie gripped his pack tight with one hand and, with the other, began to scale the cars. How fast could they have been going to end up all piled on each other like this?

At the top he paused and looked around the street ahead of him. Empty and dark, no screams to indicate another survivor gone and a wraith nearby. Just below was the little staircase leading down to a basement video rental place. That was his spot. Home sweet home. He started to climb down.

Weird, he thought. Maybe his eyes were just adjusting, but the street seemed kind of bright now. And maybe a little colorful.

Lonnie froze again. A cold, creeping feeling went up his spine. He looked back slowly, and saw the disco lights coming behind him. The wraith was still a block away, and Lonnie was hidden behind a car. But that didn’t matter. If he was on the street, the wraith would find him.

He had a couple of cars to go down yet, and that was a noisy affair. And also the cans in his pack. Lonnie made a quick decision. Caution and quiet be damned, he was running for it. Speed over stealth.

He stuck out a leg and leapt. The street rushed up out of blackness. He could only really see it a few inches before he hit, and had no way of timing his tuck and roll. And it turned out there was some object there, dark and hidden. His foot hit it and folded over. Pain burst in his ankle. Lonnie tried to stand up but his foot wasn’t having it. The lights were getting brighter. They were halfway down the block, maybe more. Brighter and brighter still. The wraith was swooping lower now. It knew someone was around.

Lonnie dragged himself along, as fast as he possibly could. He reached the stairs and peered down them. Fifteen steps of cold, hard concrete. Screw it. He grabbed hold of the railing and threw himself down. Rolling, crashing, flipping. His knee slammed against one of the supports for the banister, and the back of his head slapped down hard on one of the steps. His hand twisted under his back. He felt a pop and a rush of hot pain in his shoulder, and a throbbing as his hurt ankle jostled around.

Act bored when they got him. That had been his idea. He forgot all about it now. He was seeing stars, unable to tell what way was up. He was already at the bottom of the stairs, but he still felt like he was spinning around. All he saw was disco lights, dancing around him.

He screamed. And that was the end of Lonnie Howell, last man in the city.

THE END

---

If you want to read more of my stories, click the link to my Amazon page. The story you just read is featured in Universe in Despair.

https://www.amazon.com/Jon-Sauve/e/B00UXJGK3O

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starbornvalkyrie · 4 years

Text

what we could be | part three

catch up here.

trigger warnings: depictions of anxiety, panic attacks

“Hellooo?” The sultry female voice repeated.

At least Aelin is sure she doesn’t need to get her ears checked--it was definitely a woman who answered. She pulled the phone from her ear to double check the name she dialed. Indeed, Rowan, bird emoji, in bold white letters stares back at her.

In the background, Aelin heard the rustle of sheets. A mumbled male voice.

Aelin immediately hung up and threw her phone to the other side of her bed. She pulled her knees to chest, tucked her head between them, and forced herself to breathe in and out. In and out. In. Out.

The pounding in her ears threatened to pull her into the oblivion she always tries so hard to avoid. Aelin’s anxiety started showing face after her parents died, only to worsen after her Uncle Gavriel. Her first night in Arobynn’s foster care was also the first time she had a panic attack.

For Aelin, they come in the form of water. She starts in a room, which is more like a glorified box. The walls are either made of glass or a clear plastic, she can never get close enough to tell, and although there is no ceiling, the walls run farther and higher than her eyes can see. Her room-box is on a beach somewhere with wet sand at her feet. In the beginning, she tried to dig her way out, only to give up when each handful of sand was replaced by twice that. Until the sand was up to her knees, trapping her. It’s always night time, the sky starless. The only light is provided by the sliver of a waning moon over the horizon.

Then the tide begins to rise. There are no waves yet, just a gradual increase in water. It reaches her feet first, naturally, and by the time the water reaches the opposite wall of her room-box, it’s at her knees. Then the water bounces off the wall, creating ripples in the water that threaten to throw her off-balance.

The force of the waves intensifies as the water reaches her waist. And then she’s tumbling. The first few times, she can still reach the bottom to push herself to the surface. She’s been through this so much, she knows that after her third push she needs to try and take the deepest breath she can manage before she’s pulled under for good.

That happens next. She’s unsure which way is up or down, right or left. She tries to swim in whichever direction feels right, but the water is endless and she’s no longer in the room-box. She’s in the depths of the ocean, too far below to where there is no current to guide her, only nothing.

All too soon, she runs out of breath, but she would rather suffocate herself than inhale water. Either way, her panic wins. Aelin is never the target, without her they cease to exist. It’s that fire in her heart that the panic is after because without that fire, Aelin is no more. Her attacks are smart because they know there are two ways to extinguish a fire: deprive it of oxygen or get it wet.

Aelin is about to release the hold she has on her lungs when she feels something in her hand. In the water, she can’t tell what it is until another set of fingers interlace with hers.

Then she’s being pulled. Pulled and pulled, up and up, until the black of the water fades to blue. She never knows when it happens, but when she finally breaks the surface, there’s sunlight.

Slowly, she becomes more aware of her surroundings. Below her, she feels the fabric of her bedsheets, not the grains of sand. Her skin is damp from sweat, not soaked with sea water. Her breathing, while still shallow, is beginning to even out.

Her years of going to the university’s wellness center kicked in after a minute, and she began to list foods in alphabetical order in her head. Apples, bananas, cake. She wiggles her toes. French fries, grapes, hamburgers. She stretches her legs. Kiwi, lasagna, mangoes. She flexes her fingers, her arms. Oranges, popsicles, quesadillas.

In. Out.

Spaghetti, tacos, udon noodles.

Aelin lifts her head and opens her eyes. She blinks a few times and is finally able to focus on the soft forest green eyes staring back at her. They are so similar to yet completely different from the bright emeralds she longs to see.

Her best friend just sat there, holding her sweaty hand in hers until Aelin was ready to speak. She had to clear her throat a few times before she rasped, “A woman answered his phone.”

Lysandra’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but her face revealed nothing as she grabbed a glass of water she must have brought with her. Wordlessly, she handed it to Aelin. She downed half the glass in one go, then finished it in two more. She kept the glass in her hands, spinning it mindlessly as they talked.

“I don’t think you need me to tell you that it might not mean anything,” she said.

Aelin sighed. “I don’t think you need me to tell you that my mind isn’t exactly in the right place to be thinking of silver linings.”

“I know, I do, but we don’t need to freak out about it quite yet. I mean, you were going to go on a date with Chaol, right?” Aelin nodded weakly, seeing where she was going with this. “And he doesn’t actually know about the baby yet. So truly, he hasn’t done anything wrong, yeah?”

“I really hate when you’re right.”

“I think you secretly love it.”

The corner of Aelin’s mouth quirked up for a split second. “You’re as insufferable as my cousin.”

Lysandra barked out a laugh that made Aelin giggle. The sound was short-lived as the best friends were enveloped by silence once again.

Aelin contemplated what to do next, knowing Lysandra was exactly right. She was going to go on a date with someone else. So why did the thought of Rowan with another woman freak her out so badly? Gods, she was a mess. She really wants to blame it on the baby.

The baby.

Aelin touched a hand to her still-flat stomach and picked up her phone, knowing she needed to just rip the band-aid off. Her phone showed no new messages from Rowan, but why would he call his ex when he can be tangled in the sheets with the sexy-voiced woman? Not the point, Aelin. Right. She opened her text messages, scrolling to her conversation with Rowan.

Her heart clenched and silver lined her eyes when she saw that the last message he had sent her was on New Year’s Day. It read, Here’s to you and me in 2020, baby. I love you. Within 24 hours of that message, their relationship went to shit. Aelin doesn’t even remember what really happened, but next thing she knew, she was standing in an airport terminal crying, single, and unknowingly with child.

Aelin took a deep breath to calm her nerves and typed out a simple, Hey Rowan. I know we haven’t talked since you left, but I was wondering if you could call me when you’re free? Just let me know, thanks.

She locked her phone and crawled back under the covers. Effectively drained from her panic, the fire that was burning so bright when she woke up was barely an ember.

The sound of Lysandra moving about her apartment lulled her back into a dreamless sleep.

----------

Rowan Whitethorn was tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He was so gods damned tired. His old friend, Vaughan, told him that if he took just one really easy study abroad class, he’ll essentially get a semester long vacation paid for completely by financial aid.

Rowan had a free elective left in his crazy pre-law schedule, so he chose photography. Just taking pictures of random shit, right?

Wrong.

His brain is overflowing with random information about aperture and lighting and exposure, and if someone tells him his angles are wrong one more time, he’s going to lose it. On top of that, he was assigned a partner to work with this whole semester. And because there really must be a god out there whose sole purpose is to spite him, his partner is his unbearable ex, Remelle.

He and Remelle are from the same hometown and went to the same middle and high school. They started dating the summer before they left for college and decided to stay together at the University of Terrasen.

He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that made him realize Remelle was a Grade A Bitch, but by the end of fall semester, he ended it with her. Then he met Aelin through Fenrys, and - well, he doesn’t want to think about her right now.

Rowan has been in Wendlyn for about two months now, running around the city finding subjects for their project. Wendlyn is one of the biggest cities he’s ever been to, and even if he commutes everywhere he’s trying to go, it takes him a whole day to barely cover sixteenth of the land.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he had someone else to split the city with, but Remelle usually spends her whole day seducing whatever poor bastard she can get to take her to bed that night instead. He’d drag Fenrys along if he could, but he opted to take an Old Language class and is stuck in a classroom at Mistward Tech.

The weather in Wendlyn was finally beginning to warm up after weeks of blizzards and freezing temperatures that put Terrasen winters to shame, so Rowan chose to wander on foot. He spends most of the morning taking practice shots of Wendlyn architecture and anything else that might look nice for the project.

Rowan had to admit this was a nice excuse to go sightseeing.

By noon, he was feeling good about the progress he made and planned to reward himself with whatever delicious spread their hosts had prepared for lunch. He figured he was about an hour walk away from their housing, so he opted to call an Uber.

It took him about five minutes of rummaging through the camera bag before he finally found his phone. The sun was so bright at this time of day that the only thing he could see was that his facial recognition wasn’t working. Using muscle memory, he typed in his passcode when the faint lines of numbers appeared. That didn’t work either.

Growing more and more frustrated and hungry by the minute, Rowan walked until he found an awning to use as shade. Blinking away the blinding spots from his eyes, his frustration morphed into anger.

This wasn’t his fucking phone.

Since when did he and Remelle have the same phone? With almost identical cases? He cursed her for whatever plot she’s probably scheming by switching their phones. He cursed her again for being the reason he’s way too exhausted to realize the phone he packed that morning wasn’t even his.

Rowan decided to order a sandwich and water from a shop nearby - using Remelle’s card from the wallet attached to her phone, because fuck you, Remelle - and walk back.

As he walked, Rowan let his mind wander to the golden haired beauty with turquoise eyes across the sea - the source of his emotional exhaustion. He loved her, would go as far as saying he was in love with her. But something about their chemistry had exploded in the weeks leading up to his study abroad program, and not in a good way.

For lack of a better explanation, he was confused. From the moment he met her in his own apartment with Fenrys, he knew they were going to be something. Not even a month later, they went on their first date and the rest was history. Not only was their friendship instantaneously synchronous, but when they finally crossed that intimate threshold, their chemistry was like no other.

Fast forward two years later, and they were better than ever. Aelin fit in with his friend group so perfectly she officially dubbed them “the Cadre” and herself as their “Queen”. Rowan was starting to take his future with her seriously.

But then Lyria transferred to the University of Terrasen.

Rowan never told Aelin about her. He didn’t think he had to. They were childhood to middle school sweethearts, hardly anything substantial. She moved before they got to high school when her dad was transferred to the Air Force base in Eyllwe. They kept in touch as best they could, but it was high school. Remelle was there and Lyria wasn’t. When Aelin came along, he forgot about her altogether.

His first week of senior year, he was waiting for his comparative law class to start, when she sat down next to him. His emerald green eyes met startlingly familiar chestnut ones, and Rowan felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was lucky it was the first day of syllabus week - it didn’t matter if he paid attention or not.

They caught up over coffee and started studying together throughout the semester. He told her all about Aelin, and when he finally introduced the two women, they were fast friends. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, Aelin’s demeanor began to change.

She was usually so confident with herself and her place in the world, but every time Lyria was mentioned, her eyes shuttered for a brief second. If he wasn’t constantly enamoured with the constant shift from turquoise to gold in her eyes, he would have never noticed.

Then her jealousy began to show, along with her possessiveness. It was unbecoming of her. But every time he brought it up, her pride took over and she denied all of his accusations. Every time he tried to explain that he loved Aelin and a romantic relationship with Lyria was a thing of the past, she brushed it off with an I know but continued to act like a stranger.

When he felt he couldn’t take it anymore, he used his study abroad as an excuse to take a break. He thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to spend some time apart and re-evaluate when he was back in Terrasen. At this point in time, if she hasn’t figured out that he has been faithful to her this whole time, he isn’t sure he will want to fight for them.

It was that thought that brought him back to the housing campus right outside of Mistward Tech. He marched himself straight to Remelle’s room, knowing that even though it was well into the afternoon, she was most definitely still tangled in the sheets with a stranger.

After a minute of incessant knocking, Remelle opened the door with an irritated, “What?”

Rowan didn’t bother being pleasant. “Give me my phone.”

“What are you talking about?” The glint in her eye told him she knew exactly what he was talking about, and Rowan was not having it.

“I honestly don’t give a fuck about what game you’re playing, but I’m exhausted, hungry, and need my phone back.”

“Why do you need it? Expecting a call from someone?”

“No? I just want it back?” Remelle stared at him with a look he couldn’t quite decipher before turning back into her room to retrieve his phone.

When they traded, she said, “You got a weird call this morning. I obviously thought it was my phone so I didn’t bother checking the caller ID, but the other person hung up without saying anything.”

Rowan mumbled a thanks then went to the kitchen to grab a snack to eat in his bed. As soon as he flopped on the bed, all he wanted to do was take a nap, but he managed to stay awake long enough to check his notifications.

Other than a few likes on a post he uploaded a few days ago, there was nothing interesting. He plugged his phone into the charger by the night stand and was about to close his eyes when the sound of an incoming text made him alert. It wasn’t just any sound, though. It was the first few notes of Fur Elise. Aelin’s favorite piano piece.

He quickly sat up on the side of the bed and unlocked his phone. What he read made his heart rate increase as if he was running up the side of one of the mountains near Mistward. She wrote, Hey Rowan. I know we haven’t talked since you left, but I was wondering if you could call me when you’re free? Just let me know, thanks.

He didn’t need to think twice about tapping her name on his favorites list and lifting the phone to his ear. It rang and rang and rang for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. But then she did. And his heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice.

“Rowan?” She sounded hesitant, like she wasn’t sure it was him on the other end.

“Yeah, it’s me. Um, how are you, Aelin?”

He could hear her heavy breathing, trying to steady herself. It made Rowan nervous. “I think so? It depends on the day, really. I, um, I actually have something I need to talk to you about. I had a whole speech planned out, but I don’t know if there’s a best way to tell you this.”

Rowan waited with bated breath. What could she possibly have to tell him? He wondered if she started dating someone else already. The thought made his stomach drop. But what else could it be?

Aelin took a deep breath with a forceful exhale. The next words that came out of her mouth made his heart join his stomach on the floor.

“Rowan. I’m pregnant.”

---

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@maddymelv || @lucy617 || @tillyrubes10 || @faerie-queen-fireheart || @tottenhamboys20 || @the-third-me || @superspiritfestival || @rolltide7 || @courtofjurdan || @sleeping-and-books || @aelinchocolatelover

#rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan whitehorn #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #modern au #throne of glass #sarah j maas #my writing #sfq meg writes

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

Winner’s Curse Ch. 25

“What are we doing here?” Jay asked, kicking at the impenetrable wall.

“You three need to talk. Your little feuds are ruining the mission for the rest of us so nows a time for heart to heart before we all die in battle.” Calix said.

They all stared at him disbelievingly.

“We could die in battle. Especially with your teamwork skills.” They still stared at him, each a stony and defiant face.

“I could do a truth spell to make you talk but I thought it should be more organic. Instead we’re all going to be stuck here until you work things out.” Calix said smoothly.

Aziz tried to use a more diplomatic approch, “Cal, you said it yourself, we have a mission to do. We can’t waste time talking and-”

“Oh, but we can. Because this is a life changing adventure, and as we know from our parents’ stories, there is almost always a heart to heart before the final battle. This is it.” Calix threw out his arms grandly as if he was presenting a magnificent buffet of chocolate fountains and not being trapped against their wills.

“You cant keep us in here,” Jordan protested, “This is my lamp. I’ll just poof us out here. So nice try but-”

“The spaghetti incident.” Calix said simply and Jordan’s stilled the hand she was about to poof them away. She glared at him but did nothing else to help get them out.

“What’s “the spaghetti incident?” Aziz asked, confused.

“It’s nothing,” Jordan waved off, refusing to look anyone in the eye.

“It’s blackmail.” Calix clarified matter of factly before giving a thoroughly annoyed Jordan an enthusiastic one-armed hug, “Don’t fight the heart to heart. Don’t fight the tropes of adventuring and ragtag misfits against evil. You must go with it.”

Jay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in a classic bad boy biker pose which seemed a bit ridiculous since he was posed next to an ultra girly beaded curtain.

“If we’re supposed to, hypothetically, have a heart to heart,” Jay began “Didn’t think you knew such big words,” Aziz muttered

Jay glared and continued, “Why are you still here?”

“I’m here to make sure you do it,” Calix magicked up some headphones, and increased the volume, “I won’t hear anything. Just give me the signal when you’re done.” With that instruction he hopped onto a pile of pillows, jamming out to his own playlist.

Where once it was like they hadn’t been able to stop spewing enough curses and vitriol at each other, now silence reigned. Silence and the blinding shine of the golden walls which they stared at resolutely because they didn’t want to look at each other. None of them wanted to participate in this idiotic heart to heart and spill feelings to people they currently hated.

So Calix jumped up from his pillows and tried to get the ball rolling again.

"Okay, maybe my presence is making it hard for you to be your usual motormouth selves so I’ll go and leave this to start the conversation. How about you start with Jordan and your obvious trust issues toward everyone that makes you incapable of a “Thank you." Calix suggested a bit too enthusiastically than the situation called for.

"I don't!" Jordan immediately argued but Calix clapped his hand over mouth, "I know denial is your go-to but we have to save the realm tomorrow so let's get this over with."

"But but-"

"Again,” Calix sighed, frustration finally creeping into his voice as he repeated himself again, “Every hero's journey has that tipping point where they must come together and share their deepest fears to find out the fears are irrational because of the power of love and friendship." Calix said.

"I seriously hate it when you use my lectures on story tropes against me." Jordan grumbled.

"I don’t care what you hate," Calix began to fade away, "If you don't start bonding I will transform you into mice when this is over."

"Why mice?" Jay asked

"Mices are automatically inducted into Cinderella's sewing circle. So double punishment to you for not listening to me as you always should. Ta ta!” And with a final woosh of breeze that came from nowhere, he was gone.

Aziz and Jordan resumed their previous staring contest with the wall but Jay, fed up with this situation, and figuring they might as well get this over with, glared “So what is with your trust issues? You came from Auradon, not the Isle, why are you so paranoid?”

Jordan glared at him in return, furious that he was expecting her to dignify his question with an answer he should obviously know.

But she had to admit, she was tired too. Her arms hurt from the crescent moon marks that her nails had dug in. She was feeling residue cramps from the Antiquam’s cream or maybe it was her own tension. Not to mention her teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly. She remembered once, on a family trip long ago, Jordan had been in a mood because she had missed an Orpheus concert due to her parents’ inability to care about time. Her parents had offered to take her to another concert later that night, but she pettily refused to enjoy it.

Her dad had said it hurt more to hold onto a grudge when you can be enjoying the present. And it was true, once she had stopped ruminating on her parents’ flaws and simply listened to Orpheus’ sweet voice, the burning ball of annoyance had faded away.

And she was so tired.

She had nothing left to lose.

“As if you don’t know,” Jordan began, though with a lot less malice that she usually put behind her snark. Not that it made Jay raised his guard any less. Jordan sighed and tried again, more gentle this time.

“Well you already said it yourself. Auradonians can be hypocrites. It’s all happily ever after and respect and love and harmony is everywhere but it’s not true. They can’t have my lamp so they think if they’re nice to me and pretend to care but they’re just waiting for the right moment to ask for wishes. All of them,” Jordan side-eyed Aziz who stared stonily at her instead of looking guiltily away as she wanted him to.

“And I know people think my magic is amazing, with the wishes and all that. But it’s not,” Jordan continued, on a roll of her own, trying to make Jay understand taht even though she didn’t have Jafar as a father, her life was not pastel perfect as most Auradonians, “It’s not. I can’t give wishes to myself. If I did, I’d wish for people to like me, to be nice to me not because they like me, they think I might grant them something. And when I don’t grant them a wish, those fucking lying smiles and royal manners disappear. Because I am not human. I don’t get to be treated as if I have feelings or anything. Hell, one of my exes told me if I’m not granting wishes then I’m worthless because what else do genies live for?”

“And when I do grant wishes, usually against my will, I can’t even use magic against them. I can’t hurt my masters unless they wish for that or I find a loophole somehow. But I can’t find loopholes all the time,” Her mind automatically went to that awful night, the repeat that had almost occurred with Antiquam and Jordan choked. She hastily wiped away the tears that were beginning to streak down her cheeks.

Allah, she felt embarrassed as she saw Jay’s uncomfortable expression, eyes darting as if he wasn’t sure if he should comfort her or look away from her breakdown.

But she couldn’t stop, she felt words clamber and spill out of her throat like uncontrolled word vomit.

“And-and I wish that I didn’t have wishes to give. I wish I didn’t have to become semi-phenomenally cosmic just so I can be free. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Auradon has a fucking Magic Ban because it’s unfair to you, mortals. It’s unfair to us. Genies, and faey need their magic to live or else they’re just wasting away. Why are we punished for being born “better than you.”

“But instead, instead we have this. Resentment for being forced to hide ourselves so mortals can feel better. We can help people. But it’s also the same thing that makes people fear us and send those like Circe and Morgana Le Fey to the Isle and then they become evil because they’re bitter that they’d do this to them. Auradon creates their own enemies like a self fulfilling prophecy. “It’s like a winner’s curse.” Jordan muttered.

Sometimes when her father talked about Aladdin’s story, he phrased it as a series of winner’s curses. A winner’s curse, where one has all the power, the riches, everything they could want as a winner but the cons usually outweigh such gifts.

Jasmine was a privileged princess but that meant she was a target for a greedy vizier and princess who only wanted to add her money to their fortunes.

Aladdin got the lamp but it meant only that he had to be on guard to keep up his Prince Ali lie, and later, for Jafar who stole the lamp.

Jafar became a genie, he technically “won” since he got what he wanted, to become all powerful with phenomenal cosmic powers. But he couldn’t use it since he was stuck in an itty bitty living space.

A genie’s life was one big winner’s curse. She was beholden to people who only saw her as much of an object as her lamp and the wishes she could materialize.

Maybe everyone’s lives had a bit of a winner’s curse. The Aks “won,” got their happily ever afters in Auradon but others would always be resentful of their status and try to take it away from them. Like all of their most dangerous enemies that lived just across the bridge plotting to do just that.

And if they won, if they somehow managed not to screw up saving the world, the villains would still rise to do just that. Someone will be jealous of their fame and try to usurp the glory. People might see her as more than a wishmaker... or people would just see it as bonus. Date her for the popularity and the power.

There would always be something to outweigh the good.

And unlike any other curse, there was no way to break it.

“And I thought maybe if I did this, helped lead to save Auradon that it could change. People would see that magic can be used not just for selfish desires but to help the kingdom. That I’m so much more than wish fulfillment. But all this proved just the opposite. I can’t lead. I should be accept that my life will eventually be solitude and greedy people. And admit my parents were right all along to boot.” Jordan sank to the ground, staring uselessly at her wrists where the gold bracelets would usually shine like a mocking reminder.

And for some reason, Jay was caught by that last part rather than the real emotional turmoil that she talked about before.

“I thought-why are you so upset your parents are right?” He asked

Jordan wiped her eyes again now that she was no longer feeling weepy, “I love my parents and I love hanging out with them but- you know. They’re not- They gave up parenting me so I- I thought I would get back at them by not being like them at all. I’m serious and hard working and not spontaneous at all. Just be nothing like them, cut ties and all that. Well,not that I had to try too hard, a lot of my personality comes natural but I wanted to stick it to them.”

“Not that they care. They say it’s just a phase and when I’m a grown up, I’ll act like a regular genie like thm. Still.. hate to prove them right.”

“To be fair, I think some of the standard genie personailty comes from being in solitary confinement for thousands of years at a time,” Aziz said with a small smile as he slid down next to her.

Just like old times.

Jordan genuinely smiled at the glimpse of Aziz, the Aziz that was her best friend and brother and confident, her platonic soul mate that she loved. “Actually, because I made that vow to accept that I’m a genie and that I should act like one, that’s why I was more interested in your love life than usual. You’re my Aladdin so I had to keep you safe from your worst mortal impulses. As usual.”

Aziz’s small smile faded and Jordan frowned at the change, remembering their previous words, “Though we’re not like our Dads… not if you just-”

“I don’t tolerate you for the wishes you might grant me.” Aziz said, directly staring her in the eye so she’d know he was telling the truth. Not that she needed that, somewhere in her heart she knew that had been a lie. But what hurt more than the lie itself was..

“Then why the hell would you say that? You know that’s my worst fear and that you’re one of the few exceptions. Why would you-” “I wanted to hurt you as much as you’d you hurt me.” Aziz answered calmly.

“How have I ever hurt you? I’m the one always saving your neck!” Jordan defended.

“That’s exactly it! You’re always trying to save me or set me up on dates because you don’t think I can do it myself. You think I lead with my dick, that I’m clumsy and breakable and impulsive and foolish. The same thing you think of all mortals. And I thought I was the one exception to you, but I’m not.” Aziz cried.

Jordan scoffed, not sure how to respond except, “Can you blame me? You mess up on so many things.”

“Thanks, Jordan. Really.” Aziz rolled his eyes, “Thanks for thinking the same things of me as everyone else does.”

Aziz seized up Jay who came to sit down across from them in a small triangle with a bewildered look at their back and forth. Totally confused as to the thought that Aziz could have problems of his own which Aziz was too happy to correct.

“You don’t think I can do anything on my own. Everyone else thinks I’m forgettable, I’ve been totally useless on this mission. The only reason people know me is because I’m Aladdin’s son and you’re my genie. That’s it. But Jay… Jay is….”

Jay tensed as if already waiting for the moment he could punch Aziz for the insult.

“Jay is wonderful,” Aziz mocked in a high falsetto before going back to his normal voice, “”Jay is so charming and agile and clever. He’s a real thief.” Do you know how much it sucks for people to say that you’re more like Aladdin than me?”

Jay gaped, “Um-h-how I never-No one told me?” “No, they’d never tell you that your similar to one of Auradon’s heroes. I’m the one they tell.. Straight to my face how they think you’re more Aladdin’s son than I am,” Aziz said bitterly.

“Well, you’re definitely Jasmine’s son. You have her political intelligence,” Jordan pointed out optimistically as she used to do when Aziz vented about Jay. Cutting off Jay’s proud smile when he opened his mouth, clearly about to self brag at the worst possible moment.

“It still sucks. I’m forgettable to people. Invisible now that Jay’s around.” Aziz turned to Jay, “I used to wish you were a mini Jafar. I would have had more of a reason to hate you if you were like your dad, and I wouldn’t have to admit that I’m just so jealous that you’re better than me in everything.”

Aziz felt his blood pump, and stod up, pacing for more room as more feeling spilled into words that he hadn’t been able to say out loud before, “I’m not like the other princes. I’m not going to rule Agrabah, my sister is, so what do I do? I don’t have to take governing classes or really find a future queen right away which is great but- that made me even more unremarkable. I had no prince duties, I’m not a mini Aladdin. It felt like my introvertedness, my own personality was preventing me from following my legacy. And I tried to change myself to be more outgoing and be one jump ahead of what everyone expected of me but then Jay came and then…. I felt like I was always going to be inferior to everyone. All the Jays and the magical genies around me were more interesting than I could ever be.”

Jay’s proud look vanished, taking on a more thoughtful expression, “Maybe I could help you be better? So we’re equals in stealing.” Before this conversation it would have been mocking, another punch to the gut, but Aziz could see that Jay was being genuine, and Aziz smiled at the offer.

“Thanks but no thanks. I had a conversation with a friend,” He turned to Jordan, emphasizing, “Just a friend, and she made me realize that if people can’t bother to see past my introvertedness or prefer Jay over me, that I don’t need them.”

Aziz turned to Jay once more, “But I’m sorry that I took out all my jealousy on you, and acted like you the Jafar I wanted you to be.”

Jordan leaned his shoulder, still thinking of his previous words, “I’m sorry that I made you think you weren’t the exception to my view of mortals. You are. I don’t think you’re completely incapable of doing things on your own. I like hanging out with you, we have the best times together. And your… your love life is entertaining. Honestly, sometimes-and you’re not allowed to overanalyze this like usual or use me as your case study in psychology class again-maybe the reason I’m so invested in your life because it’s better than my own. And if you need me, you won’t leave me. But if it bothers you, I’ll ask for your permission first.” Aziz side-hugged her and for once, did not try to probe that admission ripe for psychoanalytical analysis, “'Ant ealiq maei, Bmout Fiki.”

“You know, I really dislike when you talk like that in front of me.” Jordan and Aziz unhugged and looked quizzically at Jay, “What the sentimental mushiness? You’re stuck in a heart to heart, you gotto deal with it.”

“No, the Arabic thing. I don’t know,” Jay almost physically shrank back as if wishing he could take the words back but he continued trying to pretend he was talking to Jade again or his friends, “Like you said Jafar only taught me how to steal and cheat, not language. I-I want to, I heard so much about Agrabah but…”

Jay sighed and started again, “I want to know stuff like Arabic and see Agrabah but you always stuck together and throw it in my face that I don’t know those things. How can I? It’s not my fault that I was born here. I never had a chance to learn all the things you know. Or learn “big words” or-or anything you grew up with. You know I’m not like you and you keep judging me for that. I’m trying to change and you think I’m lying.”

Aziz and Jordan looked shame-faced at the floor, mullifying the last of Jay’s previous anger towards them.

“I am trying. But- Everyone else is doing better than me. Mal is embracing her role as a court lady, Carlos is having a blast at school, getting to learn techno stuff and helping the animal shelter. Evie has her business. I have tourney and R.O.A.R. but that still involves the fighting that makes me a Vk.”

“But we- it doesn’t make you a Vk,” Aziz faltered on the point because they all knew it was wrong. Jay’s aggression on the court was another thing that made him stand out compared to the polite royals who never fought in their life. So vulgar, so ruthless. So villainous.

“I still can’t stop myself from stealing shiny objects. I still seek out the exits of each room because that’s just what you do here to survive. It- I feel like I haven’t improved as much as the others have but I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better. But I have changed. I’d forgotten how bad it is here, I got soft.. I’m just stuck.”

“And I thought I was doing better. I care about my friends like good guys do. I protect them but I haven’t really,” Jay admitted, some of his former doubts of whether his big brother title was earned, resurfacing.

“I’ve done nothing for my friends, and I heard you don’t need to but I- I was not raised that way. You have to be able to offer something if you want to be worth anyone’s time. Everything is transactional. Dad cared for me because of what I could give him. I thought it was the same with friends. Even though it’s not transactional, I still feel like a worthless friend without being able to offer anything.” Jay ended abruptly, shifting his gaze to the lint on the oriental rug, picking at it to give himself something to do than look at their pitying stares, “I really haven’t changed if I still think like Dad, I guess, but I can’t shake it.”

But Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up at, not pity, but a sort of understanding.

They had all messed up. Resenting each other for not seeing their difficulties, for basing their views on expectation and legacy rather than reality and how the shadows of their parents haunted many of their actions.

But with the truth revealed, the biases stripped away, they wouldn’t continue.

“I’m sorry. Neither of us have been treating you fairly, but we could teach you Arabic. If you join us in Agrabah for vacation,” Aziz trailed off, offering his hand.

“Sure,” Jay smiled, “I think I’ll be able to get through it now without wanting to punch you.”

They all stood up, stretching out their limbs, feeling much more relaxed now that some of the air was cleared.

“What are you smiling about?” Aziz punched Jordan’s shoulder to get her attention from wherever she was zoning out.

“I was just thinking it’s a funny coincidence that we’re all sexy, witty bisexuals with daddy issues and a love for gold, jewels and parkour-flipping adventures,” Jordan raised a sardonic eyebrow, “But I can’t figure out if it’s just us or maybe all Agrabahians share that.”

The three took a pause, staring at each other at the surprising commonality between them.

Jay was the first to recover with his usual smirk, “I don’t know about these two or the supposed “daddy issues” but sexiness always applies to me.”

“Get over yourself.” Aziz rolled his eyes before unsubtly puffing up his own chest, “We all are sexy. It’s practically in our national anthem. “More than often that not, we’re hotter that hot-“

“In a lot of good ways.” Jordan finished, bumping her hip against his, the first friendly smile she gave to him in days, "Though I'm the wittest out of us."

"You? Really? You don't snark, you just insult people." Jay retorted.

"It's true. And you always "reference" things that only your parents know. Like when you go all Spanish, "Say hello to my little friend." Aziz added.

"That's from Scar-right you don't know that. Well there's um...What great one-liners have you've come up with?" Jordan shot back, clearly perturbed by Jay and Aziz teaming up against her with the same condescending look on her banter skills.

Aziz, the more diplomatic of them, swung an arm over her and Jay’s shoulder, “Let’s not get into another argument now. Even if it’s a stupid argument. We have a battle plan to do.”

#winner’s curse #chapter twenty five #my fanfic #my fanfiction #calix #jay #aziz #jordan #disney descendants

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noona-clock · 4 years

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The Risk - Part 7

Genre: Fighter!AU

Pairing: Park Seo Joon x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Emotional angst

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 | Words: 2,571

Seo Joon had to stay at the hospital overnight to make sure he didn’t have a concussion, and once he was in the clear the next afternoon, they discharged him and sent him home.

Obviously, you drove him back, and he held your hand in his lap the whole way. His vision was impaired at the moment, and it just made him feel a lot better to physically know you were there. He couldn’t quite see you, so he had to feel you.

After stepping in through his apartment door, he murmured that he would go take a shower. He was fairly sure he could manage, and he would be extra careful when he washed his hair.

“Are you hungry?” you asked softly, your brow furrowed deeply as you laid a hand on his back.

“I could eat,” he replied with a quiet chuckle.

“I’ll see what I can whip up.” You shot him a tiny smile, and Seo Joon started to lean down and kiss you. The motion threw him a little off-balance, though, and you quickly grabbed onto his arms to steady him.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Here, let me,” you said before you stood on your toes and pressed your lips to his. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

He simply hummed in response before stepping away, feeling your hands slide off him hesitantly.

If he couldn’t even bend down to kiss you properly... this was going to be a very long recovery period.

It took about three times longer than it normally did, but Seo Joon managed to get himself showered and dressed.

But that had been about ten minutes ago.

He had perched on the edge of his bed to put his socks on and after that... he had just stayed there. Sitting silently.

“Everything okay in here?” you asked, and Seo Joon heard your footsteps shuffling toward his bedroom door.

“Hmm?” He looked up slowly, not wanting to get dizzy or lightheaded or disoriented because of the bandage over his eye. “Oh -- yeah. Just...”

You paused in the doorway for a second before making your way over to the side of his bed. When you reached him, you put your hands on his shoulders, and he moved to slide his arms around your waist.

He couldn’t help but sigh when he’d fully embraced you, pulling you in-between his legs and hugging you close to him. You began to comb your fingers through his wet hair, and Seo Joon had to close the only good eye he had right now because it felt so damn good.

“How are you holding up?” you asked softly.

“I’m okay,” he answered, though at the moment, he really wasn’t sure how true that was.

“I made spaghetti,” you told him, and Seo Joon nuzzled his cheek against your chest, comforted by the gentle vibrations as you spoke.

He simply nodded and let out a deep sigh; he was hungry, but he didn’t want to move a single inch right now.

A minute or two of silence passed before Seo Joon realized he had been thinking about something. Something that was so obvious -- laughably obvious -- that he didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before.

“Stay here,” he murmured, lifting his head and pulling back to look up at you.

“Of course, I will,” you answered with a small grin.

“No, I mean -- stay. Here. Live here. Move in here. With me.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, and you moved your hands to cradle his cheeks gingerly. “Well, I do have to take care of you,” you said softly.

Seo Joon tightened his hold on your waist, moving to press his cheek back against your chest. “Move in here, take care of me, quit your job --”

“Wait, what?” you interrupted. “Quit my --”

“Just for now,” he clarified. “Until we know more about... what might happen.”

And before you could argue again, he added, “I have more than enough money for both of us for a while. Just... stay here with me. You -- you can work on that book you’ve been wanting to write. I just -- I --”

He felt a little pathetic admitting this, but he was extremely vulnerable right now. And if he couldn’t say this to you, then who could he say it to?

“I don’t want you to leave me. I need you.”

You held him close to you after hearing his words, hearing the slight quiver in his voice. “I’m not going to leave you,” you assured him. “Ever. If... if it’ll make it easier on you, I’ll quit my job. But as soon as the doctor gives you the okay, I’m looking for one. I want to contribute, too. I don’t want to be a gold-digger or have to rely on you for money or --”

“Okay, I get it,” Seo Joon smirked, lifting his head again and pursing his lips to request a kiss.

You obliged, of course, kissing him about three times before whispering an ‘I love you’ and pulling away.

“Come on, the food’s getting cold,” you said, holding out your hand so you could walk with him back into the kitchen.

He groaned softly as he stood up, slipping his hand into yours and following you. Right now, he followed you into the kitchen, but... truthfully, he would follow you anywhere.

The next couple of weeks were...

Rough.

The pain in Seo Joon’s eye only got worse before it started to get even marginally better, and it got to a point where it just felt pointless to try and hide it from you. But then, you were pretty powerless to do anything about it, so when he did let on just how much it was hurting, you ended up feeling anxious and guilty because you couldn’t really help him.

You could put ointment on his cuts, but that was about it. Seo Joon could tell you didn’t like doing it, though, because it still looked pretty gruesome. Your eyes always fluttered a little when you first took off the bandage, and you had to take deep breaths so you wouldn’t faint. Just like going to his matches, you didn’t like it, but you still did it.

You were truly such an angel.

But anyway.

So, not only was Seo Joon in pain and you felt basically helpless, but Seo Joon couldn’t train -- obviously.

You had taken to being unemployed quite well, actually. When you weren’t taking care of Seo Joon, you were cleaning and meal planning and grocery shopping and drafting the novel you’d had stuck in your head for a few months now.

I mean, really, Seo Joon would be pretty surprised if you decided you did want to find a job once he was able to get back in the ring.

If he was able to get back in the ring.

Unlike you, though, Seo Joon didn’t have much to fill his time. He had been banned by his doctor from doing any strenuous physical activity, and he wasn’t supposed to strain his eyesight more than he absolutely needed to. It was a lot more exhausting than it sounded.

You forced him to go on walks every day, and he accompanied you to the grocery store and took you out to eat, but other than that... he really did a whole lot of nothing.

He hated it.

He was actually a little surprised that you were taking this whole situation a lot better than he was.

He had been injured before! He knew what it was like to take a hiatus and put training on hold for a little while. He thought for sure you would be a worrying, anxious mess most of the time.

But... you seemed pretty fine, actually. You had established a routine, you checked off all of the items on your to-do lists, and you slept well each night.

Seo Joon, on the other hand, woke up a few times a night, every single night. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from restlessness or something else, but whatever it was, it was relentless.

And, as if on cue, Seo Joon woke up at -- he slowly turned his head to look at the clock on his nightstand and saw it was 3:27am. That was a new one. He was fairly sure he hadn’t seen 3:27am yet, so at least that was something.

He let out a sleepy groan, rolling over carefully so he could do what he always did when he woke up during the night: reach over and cuddle you until he fell back asleep.

But when he stretched his arm out, expecting it to land over your waist... it fell and hit the mattress next to him with a soft thud instead.

His brow furrowed immediately, and he opened his eyes to make sure he wasn’t, like, just facing the other way or something.

But, no. The pillow next to him was empty. The covers were folded back.

Just out of curiosity, he passed his hand over the sheets to gauge how long it might have been since you’d been there. Maybe you’d just gone to the bathroom or something.

But the sheets were a very solid room temperature, almost cool.

You hadn’t been there for a while.

He sat up, blinking through the darkness to see if any lights were on in the rest of his apartment, but nothing --

Wait.

Was that...?

Seo Joon narrowed his good eye in concentration, leaning forward to try and hear the sound clearly.

It sounded like someone... crying.

Without wasting any more time, Seo Joon swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, quietly following the sound into the en suite bathroom.

There was a small nightlight plugged into the wall, but that was enough for Seo Joon to see you huddled against the wall, your face buried in your arms. He didn’t need any light at all to hear you were crying.

No -- not crying.

You were sobbing.

“Hey,” he said softly, getting down onto the floor and crawling over to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You let out a small, startled cry, lifting your head to look at him.

“Oh, god,” you sniffled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake --”

But Seo Joon had put his arms around you and pulled you as close to his chest as he could before you could even finish your sentence.

And you broke down all over again.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, your voice muffled both from crying so hard and from pressing your face into his shirt. “I just -- I can’t take it anymore.”

At least, that’s what he thought you said. It was a little difficult to decipher your words through your body-wracking sobs.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked, cradling the back of your head and rubbing your upper arm and shoulder. He had to swallow a lump down in his own throat because hearing you cry like this? It felt like his heart was physically ripping in two.

“I’m still so scared,” you wailed. “Whenever I close my eyes, I see you unconscious -- and all the blood. I don’t ever want to see you like that. It was the worst -- And I’m so angry at him for doing this to you. It’s not fair, how could he just do that? It’s not right! Why would he want to hurt you like this? I know that’s the point of the whole thing, but why would you want to try to hurt someone so badly that it may end their career? Or make them blind?! And I feel so guilty because you may not ever fight again and I know you’ll hate that but I’ll love it but I don’t want to love something that will make you unhappy and I just --”

You cut yourself off with a hiccuping sob, and Seo Joon simply held you tighter.

“I was there,” you continued. “I saw it happen.”

Seo Joon jerked slightly in surprise because... you hadn’t ever told him that. He’d just assumed you had gone from your graduation ceremony straight to the hospital.

But you’d been there? You’d watched him get knocked unconscious?

He was saying the word ‘Fuck’ in his head in as many different ways as he could possibly think of at the moment.

“I saw it happen, and I keep seeing it happen, and I felt helpless then because I couldn’t go to you and help you, and I feel helpless now because I can’t make it better. I want to take your pain away so badly, but I can’t, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything!”

...What in the world could he say to all that?

And here he’d been thinking you were all right. That you were dealing with this better than he was. That you were pretty fine!

Apparently, you’d just been holding it in. Or faking it. Or some combination of the two.

So, he just sat there. He held you. He murmured ‘It’s okay’ in your ear over and over. He combed through your hair and rubbed your back and let you sob until you had no tears left in your body.

He couldn’t even be sure how much time had passed before he realized it had been silent in the bathroom for a while now. You had stopped crying, and neither of you had spoken yet.

“Come back to bed,” he whispered.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d fallen asleep, but you almost immediately nodded and moved to stand up.

Once Seo Joon was standing, however, he carefully bent down and picked you up bridal style. You had been taking care of him for over two weeks now, so it was his turn to take care of you. He may not know what to say to help you, but he could at least do this.

You limply hung your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his cheek as he held you up close to his chest. When he laid you down on the bed, he didn’t even give you enough time to let go of him before he was cuddled up next to you. His arms were around you, one over your waist and the other sandwiched between your body and the mattress. Your head was tucked right underneath his chin. His leg was hooked over yours. He was protecting you with every inch of himself that was able, and if it was possible, he wouldn’t ever let you go.

You fell back asleep quite easily; after crying so much and now being in such a warm solid embrace, it was no wonder. You were exhausted and comfortable.

But Seo Joon lay awake for the rest of the night -- the rest of the morning, really. His eyes had glimpsed that it had been 3:52am when he’d set you back in bed, and he didn’t even attempt to sleep before carefully crawling out at 7:18am.

He’d spent all three and a half of those hours thinking. His brain had been whirling around with too many different thoughts to count, but... they all led to one thing.

He knew what he needed to do, and he needed to do it now.

Part 8

#kwritersworldnet #park seo joon scenarios #park seo joon imagines #park seo joon au #park seo joon angst #park seo joon fanfic #kdrama scenarios #kdrama imagines #kdrama au #kdrama angst #kdrama fanfic #park seo joon #park seo jun #kdrama actor

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13-reasons-ideas · 4 years

Text

It’s literally like they did like spaghetti with Montgomery de la Cruz. They just threw shit at the wall and saw what stuck. They made a very complex character who the could have done SO MUCH with, a monster. He really could have been a great character. Or better than what they gave him.

#montgomery de la cruz #13 reasons why season 4 #13 reasons why

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ubernoxa · 4 years

Text

Broken Voodoo: The Story of the band that brought Rock N’ Roll back to life

Chapter 1: From the Begining

Prologue

Red, pinks, and yellow hues filled the sky as I watched the sunrise while the plane began to descend. It reminded me of one of the paintings that hung in the law office where I worked; however, instead of a small lake with a sailboat, the city of Los Angeles was staring back at me. A very intimidating city, if I may add. I would much rather have the calming lake staring back at me. Now before you begin to think that I am a lawyer with some fancy law degree, I should let you know that I am by no means a lawyer. I don’t even have a law degree, I have a two year degree in English. I performed patent research and proofread reports at the law office. Don’t get me wrong, some of the research is interesting and it's always exciting to work with inventors, especially when I help make the patent for their invention a reality. The only downside is that I hate working with lawyers who see me as a second class citizen with my English degree.

Luckily for me, the office was rather large, and my desk was far away from the condescending lawyers that filled the office. I would go about my day with ease only dealing with them for a couple of hours a day while I sat in their long boring meetings where I would constantly debate how much I actually needed this job while they would try to one up each other by playing the game I like to call ‘I am the smartest one in the room.’

I was able to keep to myself away from the lawyers for the most part, until a few months back when I thought I was going to get fired. It all started when I sat down at my desk one early Monday morning, and saw a handwritten note from my boss’s secretary saying to visit his office as soon as I arrived. Unsettling is one of the many words that came to mind when I first found the note taped to my desk. I would get fired if I said the other words that came to mind. I took one last glance around the room, making eye contact with one of my coworkers who shared a similar facial expression. There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to be fired.

Dead girl walking.

“Oh Andi, I am glad you could join me,” I sent a soft smile to my boss as I closed the large wooden shrieking doors behind me.

“No problem at all, the meeting seemed important, so I moved my calendar around,” I replied, making sure to keep my hands under the table. They weren't shaking, they were trembling. I was terrified by not only the eyes that were now watching me through the large glass wall that he had in his office to make it a ‘friendlier’ environment, but also by the fact that I may be fired in the next ten minutes.

“Do you still play guitar?”

I could feel a confused look flash across my features as he spoke.

“Yeah, helps me relax after a long day. Why?” My mind was racing in circles trying to understand why he had asked me to come to his office first thing in the morning.

“Would you be interested in playing in a band?”

I let a nervous laugh escape me before I replied. “I am sorry what? Did you call me here to fire me or not?”

I was met with a hardy laugh from my boss. “No no no, to make an incredibly long story short, my niece’s boyfriend’s band entered into some silly band competition, and they need a replacement guitarist for a competition that is in a month. I have heard rumors around the office that you played, and I wanted to see if you could help out my niece. To be honest, I haven’t been the best godfather, so I was hoping you could help me out by joining the band for a month to play at the competition. My niece, such a foolish girl, believes that her boyfriend will become the next rockstar.I hope she quickly realizes how irrational she is being, and moves on. Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah I would love to help,” I quickly responded, trying to hide how off put I was by his casual nature towards me. Within a couple of days I was Skyping the band for an interview and the rest is history.

I was pulled from my thoughts as the pilot announced that we had landed and welcomed us all to LA, the city of dreams. An older man helped me remove my carry on from the overhead bins, and after what felt like hours, I was off the plane. I felt like I could finally breathe again the moment I stepped off the pain and walked into the airport.

I watched through the skylight as the sun continued to rise, as if mocking me that I was still in the airport. Lucky for me, everything I needed was in my backpack and after a quick debate with the flight attendant who said I couldn’t bring my guitar as a carry on, I didn’t have to go to baggage claim. One of the few perks of working with lawyers and doing law research for a living is that I came prepared with a printed section of the FFA Reform act that said I could which quickly shut her up.

I kept my eyes peeled as I followed herds of people who appeared to be leaving. I felt like I was in pandora's labyrinth weaving through the various waiting areas, food courts, and shops. This airport must have been at least ten times larger than the one in Maine. I felt relief fill me as I finally spotted some familiar faces.

I spotted Jax’s blonde hair first as he towered over several of the people around him. Holy shit, at 5 ft 4 inches, I was going to look like a munchkin standing next to him. He stuck out like a sore thumb as he stood next to a smiley Robin in his leather pants with a jean vest. I guess shirts were not required in LA like how they are in Maine. He sent me a wave which I quickly returned as he motioned for us to meet off to the side, and not in the herd of people that were looking for relatives or loved ones.

I only knew three things about Jax.

He was currently dating Robin, but after talking to him over Skype during band meetings, I wondered how long that would last.

He was a charismatic and a good dancer, just like every lead singer in rock band before him

He may not look like it, but he had the voice of an angle from the heavens above.

I smiled at the small sign that Robin was holding that said ‘Welcome to California Andi’.. I felt underdressed in my athletic shorts, hoodie, and sneakers as I approached the pair, secretly wishing that I had worn a sundress similar to Robin.

“Welcome to LA, is it everything you hoped for?” Jax smiled as he welcomed me.

“It’s sunnier than Maine,” I replied once again looking at one of the hundreds of skylights.

“Well it’s good to finally meet you in person, let’s get going to the car, so we can get the fuck out of here,” I nodded at his words. Getting the fuck out of the overpacked busy airport felt amazing. For the past 9 hours I had felt like a sardine in a can. I craved fresh air.

“Here let me take that,” I cautiously eyed Robin as I handed her my guitar case.

“How was the flight?” She chirped walking by my side as we followed Jax to the parking garage.

“Can’t complain much. I had to fight the flight attendant about having my guitar as a carry on, but I won in the end. She was a bitch to me the entire flight though,” I replied earning a small giggle from Robin.

“How did you manage that?” I had assumed Jax had tuned Robin and I out as we made it to his truck.

“Law says I can bring it as a carry on, so I printed out the section I needed. Once I handed the paper to her she shut up. I hate causing problems, but there is no way I was ‘gate checking’ my guitar. I didn’t want some random guy tossing it around on the tar mat, or watching my baby slide down the luggage ramp before it slammed into a wall,” I quickly replied before hopping in the back seat.

“So I have to ask, what is it like working for my uncle?” Robin was currently sitting shotgun, as Jax backed up the truck and began to leave the spaghetti jungle that was the parking lot.

“I honestly only talked to him twice. The first was on my first day at work when he introduced himself to me. The second was when he asked me if I could help Broken Voodoo out which by the way I thought he was going to fucking fire me when he called me to his office,” I laughed at myself thinking back to the moment only a month ago.

“Ohh Sorry about that Andi.”

“Don’t worry Robin,” I smiled back, earning one in return.

“So the plan for this morning is to drop you off at my place to get some additional practice with the rest of the band while I head up north to check us into the competition. We won’t be playing until day two so we don’t have to get there until tomorrow night,” He said as he pulled up into some random parking spot.

“Don't you need to practice with us?” I asked out of curiosit.

“Honey, don't worry about me. I'm so good I don't need to practice,” I was glad we were walking up a creaky staircase as he replied. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor. I was impressed by him and his ego could fit through the small doorway that led to his apartment. No, it was not an apartment. It was a studio. I placed my guitar by the drums and other instruments that took up half of the studio.

“Hey Andi! Welcome to California!” I turned to see Oli shout across the studio the moment he saw me. Before I could respond, someone threw something across the room at Oli.

“Shut the fuck up, Oli. It is too early for you to be this loud,” I didn't have to see the bassist’s face to know Seb was the one over in the corner on the paper thin mattress.

“Oli, Robin and I gotta head out to sign in and get our backstage passes for the competition. Get to practicing to get her ready,” Jax said before leaving the pathetic excuse of an apartment.

“Don’t worry Andi, I have heard you play countless times, you’ll do fine. It is more of the stage presence we are worried about. We should have plenty of ‘stage presence’ with that throwing trick you came up with, but we have to cover the whole stage,” Oli patted my back as we headed over towards his drum kit.

“I’ve been practicing with the rod you sent a few weeks back, we can practice the trick once we get our instruments good to go. We sound the part, now we have to look the part,” Seb paused as he took a second to look me over. The worst part wasn’t that he was being incredibly obvious he was checking me out, the worst part was the unsatisfactory look he had on his face.

“You don’t look like a rocker,” I scoffed at his comment. Of course I didn't look like a rocker. I just got off of a nine hour flight.

“Well, you look like a complete dick, so at least one of us is dressed appropriately,” I sassed back before moving towards my guitar to retune it.

“Alrighty!” I was brought from my tuning by Oli who was once again playing peacekeeper by breaking the silence and clapping his hands.

“Alot is at stake here, so let's get to practicing,” he added once he was seated behind his drum kit.

Seb counted us in, and we began our setlist from the top.

I brushed off Seb’s comment, and began to focus on the music.i could already feel the pressure to perform perfectly. As a rhythm guitarist, playing as the solo guitarist felt foreign. As we played through our setlist, I tried loosening out by copying some of Seb’s dance moves. I chose not to mimic the ones that looked like just sex.

Oli was right, there was a lot at stake here.

I was surprised when I found out that there was no cash prize. Instead, according to Jax, there was something more valuable. The shot at a record deal.

With this competition only happening once every couple years, this was their shot to make it big.

#fanfiction #fanfic #gnr fanfiction #gnr fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfic #guns n’ roses fanfiction #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue fanfic #skid row fanfic #skid row fanfiction #rockfic #rock n’ roll fanfic #rock n’ roll fanfiction

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brittle-bone-gabe · 4 years

Text

A Losers Thanksgiving

Basically, I bought It: Chapter 2 a week ago and adored rewatching when the Losers reunited at the restaurant and had to write something based on that. Summary: Shortly after getting married, Ben and Beverly invite the Losers Club over for Thanksgiving. Pairings: Adult Reddie (Richie x Eddie), Adult Benverly (Ben x Beverly) Read on Ao3: Here

After the ordeal back in Derry, Maine it wasn’t a surprise that Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom ended up leaving together to go to Lincoln, Nebraska; just like Richie and Eddie left together to go to Chicago. The thoughts of Bev’s ex-husband faded when she moved into Ben’s house, every bad, abused memory that she ever had also faded. This was the first time in her life she was ever treated right by a man, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t use to flinch whenever Ben moved too quickly around her. Well, while Ben understood where she was coming from, he did everything he could to make her feel more comfortable and secure. It wasn’t long before she started feeling comfortable around him, acting like both best friends while still dating. The best kind of relationship. Of course, Ben had a feeling that if she had reason to, Bev would kick his ass.

Richie and Eddie got married before Ben and Beverly did; only a week apart. It wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened, and they couldn’t help but laugh about that. Of course something like that would happen to the Losers. Back to back Loser weddings were the best. Although, Richie always pointed out that his wedding was better for the fact he put small bags of weed underneath the Losers seats. Well... that’s what was supposed to happen, but Eddie’s mother sat in a chair they weren’t expecting her to and instead of something normal under her seat she had a small bag of weed. Whoops. Richie didn’t hear the end of that for almost a year, now he and Eddie’s mom couldn’t make eye contact with each other.

Ben and Beverly’s wedding was normal for the most part. It was certainly a beautiful one at that with all the Losers showing up. Beverly’s uncle, who she saw as a father, walked her down the aisle all while Ben was keeping everything he had to not cry. Ben remembered looking out to see Richie tease him by moving a finger down his cheek, implying that he was going to cry. Making sure nobody was looking, Ben threw him a discreet middle finger. Richie was about to retaliate, but both Eddie and Stan punched him on either arm.

At this point, the Losers had a lot of pictures of each other at weddings; beautiful, formal pictures, and a lot of drunken pictures. With all the years apart they needed to catch up for lost time, this was the perfect way to do it too. Mike Hanlon had a lot of the formal pictures set up at his desk at work, but at home he had the stupid ones hung up on the wall. Richie wanted to hang up the pictures where Eddie was clearly drunk out of his mind, but Eddie refused, saying that he will burn the house down if he did that. Maybe Richie would risk it. Bill had a wedding photo taken of all the Losers set as his laptops background, always looking back on it whenever he was in a state of writers block.

-----

Bev was moving around the house, putting up Thanksgiving decorations, being sure not to get in Ben’s way since he was on a video conference with a large group of people and didn’t want to get in the way of that. Thanksgiving was next week and she was excited, it was their first holiday being husband and wife and she wanted everything to be perfect. Plus, she always wanted to decorate a house with holiday decor; she wasn’t allowed to at her fathers house and when she moved to aunt and uncles they never really decorated either. Ben, on the other hand, welcomed it. They went out together, picking things out that would look good for the house. Ben remembered the huge smile on Bev’s face as she picked up decor items, holding it up to him, asking if he thought it would look good. Of course, he would always agree, a smile just as big on his own face.

While she was decorating, holding the fake turkey in her hands while standing in the kitchen, Bev stopped, getting a fantastic idea. She absolutely could not wait for Ben to get off the conference call to ask him about it. Bev was thinking: Hey, this would be mine and Ben’s first holiday, why not get the Losers in on it? Oh, hell yeah, that would be an amazing time.

The moment Ben closed his laptop, letting out a sigh, moving into the kitchen where Beverly was still in, standing on the counter as she was putting little turkey stickers on the window. Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall backwards. Bev giggled as he helped her down.

“It’s looking great!” Ben said, a smile on his face before planting a kiss on Beverly’s forehead.

“This is my favorite!” She picked up the fake turkey plush that was sitting on the kitchen island. “Squeeze it!” She held it out to him. Ben took it from her, doing what he was instructed to do. Gobble, gobble, gobble. “Isn’t it cute!”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, putting the plush on his wife's head. “It’s so cute, just like you.” Bev stood on her toes, giving Ben a kiss as the plush toy slid off her head and to the floor.

“Sooo... I had an idea for Thanksgiving,” she said, picking up the plush.

“Hmm... more decorations?”

Bev laughed. “N- well, yes, but no. What if we invited the Losers for Thanksgiving?”

Ben loved that idea. It was a few months ago since they seen their best friends for their wedding, but having them over for a holiday? That would be amazing.

“That...” Ben wrapped his arms around Bev’s waist, pulling her in close, “is a fantastic idea. Do you think they’ll come?”

“I hope so.”

-----

Thankfully all of the Losers decided to drop whatever (if they had any) plans they originally had for Thanksgiving to travel to Lincoln, Nebraska to see Bev and Ben for the holidays. Yeah, Bill and Stan’s family wasn’t too thrilled about the idea that they wouldn’t be around for Thanksgiving, but they managed to get out of it by bringing up the fact it’s been a long time since the Losers were together and never around each other during the holidays. Yeah, Stan had to sleep on the couch for awhile, but he was still able to go. Bill had bought his plane ticket as soon as he got off the phone with Ben. Mike didn’t really have anything going on anyways, thankfully he didn’t work on Thanksgiving, in fact, he was originally was just going to order a pizza for the night and watch movies back to back until he fell asleep. So getting that phone call turned his entire mood around.

Eddie got an earful from his mother when he called to tell him that he and Richie weren’t going to make it to the family Thanksgiving dinner they had every year. She was trying to guilt trip him into going, and Eddie almost gave in, but Richie held his fingers up to his own head, pretending to shoot himself, dramatically leaning to his side as if he were dead. While he was trying to be funny he accidentally slipped and fell off his chair, landing on the floor with a thud as the chair slipped and fell on him. Eddie rolled his eyes, saying that they couldn’t make it. He kept apologizing, saying he loved her before hanging up the phone.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” he told Richie, who pulled himself up from the floor, his joints cracking as he did. “God, you’re old.”

Richie laughed, flipping his husband off with both middle fingers. “Fuck you.” Eddie got back on his phone, looking for flights. “What’cha doin’?”

“Booking before it’s too late,” Eddie said, his eyes focused on the screen.

“Or... or, or...” Richie said, covering his phones screen, “we could drive there.”

“Drive...?” Eddie asked, looking up at Richie who nodded, a goofy smile on his face. “It’s only a two hour flight, driving would take, like...” he looked it up quickly, “seven and a half hours.”

“Awww, c’mon, Eddie Spaghetti! Road trip!”

“I can barely handle being in the house with you, do you think I could handle being stuck in a confined space with you?”

Richie put a hand on his chest, looking hurt. “Ouch... you hurt me.”

“Good.” Richie blinked a few times, not sure what to say. “...Fine, but I’m driving.”

“Oh... I’d rather walk. I’d get there faster.”

-----

Thanksgiving finally rolled around, Beverly was overly excited as she was pacing back and forth, waiting for the Losers to show up. She had woken up early with Ben as they started working on Thanksgiving dinner, stressing herself out about it, but Ben had to reassure her that the Losers said they were going to be bringing stuff too so she didn’t have to do everything. God, Bev never hosted a dinner before, she didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do, what would or wouldn’t be too much. She knew that the Losers couldn’t care less if the dinner wasn’t perfect, they would just enjoy the time together, but she was still panicking.

Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, giving her a small massage.

“It’s perfect,” he told her, kissing her cheek, “they’ll just be happy to get some free food.” They both laughed as the door bell rang.

As they were making their way to open it, it changed to constant ringing of the door bell then someones hand pounding on the door.

“Let us in!” Ben and Bev heard Mike and Stan yell from the other side.

As soon as they opened the door they saw Richie shove handfuls of snow down Mike and Stan’s shirts. Bev covered her mouth to hide her smile as the two men screamed from the freezing cold. Richie was laughing so hard that he had no idea that Bill was coming up behind him with a handful of snow as well. He wrapped his arm around Richie’s throat, forcing the snow in his face before backing off, laughing.

“No! Why!” Richie shouted, spiting the snow out of his mouth, taking off his now blurry glasses. The moment Richie cleared off his glasses and put them back onto his face, he was met with a snow ball thrown by Eddie. “Oh, you are so fuckin’ dead, Tozier,” Richie said, picking up some snow, forming it into a snow ball.

Eddie panicked, not wanting to get hit with the dirty snow, so he ran behind Ben to use as a shield.

“Be nice to Eddie!” Bev said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, man, why do you wanna hurt Eddie?” Mike added, still trembling from the cold.

“Wh-” Richie started.

“Such an asshole, dude,” Stan added.

“What is with this attack on me right now?”

“Gotta be nice to Eddie, man,” Bill said, purposely bumping into Richie’s shoulder as he walked past him.

Richie saw Eddie give him the middle finger as he was making his way into the house with everyone else. Oh, yeah. He was so fuckin’ dead.

Everyone took off their snow covered shoes so they wouldn’t track any snow into the beautiful house. Everyone set the bags that they brought on the dining room table. Everyone showed what they brought for dinner; Bill brought cornbread, Stan brought wine, Mike brought pumpkin pie, and Richie and Eddie brought... brownies. Well, actually Richie baked them himself... well... he baked two different batches, making sure to leave... one... at home. Eddie had no idea what that was about, but whatever, it was something.

“It’s the only thing I know how to bake,” Richie said, slapping Mike’s hand away from the brownies.

“Since when do you bring brownies for Thanksgiving?” Ben wondered, trying to get under the lid of the brownies.

“Since... shut the fuck up or you don’t get any,” he replied, then slapped Ben’s hand away. “I guess if you don’t want them...”

Stan put a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Trashmouth.”

“At least someone appreciates me.”

The Losers moved into the living room, taking the time to relax from their long trip as dinner was finishing up. Ben, Bev, and Stan gathered on the couch, Mike took the reclining chair on the left of the couch, Eddie took the other chair on the right with Richie sitting in between his legs so Eddie could stoke his hair, and Bill sat on the coffee table.

They were talking, catching up on what’s been going on since they last saw each other. Well, there wasn’t too much since they had a group chat called Losers Club where they made sure they kept in contact. It was nice, but meeting up in person to speak face-to-face was even better.

“I saw your Netflix Special, Trashmouth,” Mike started, rocking back and forth slightly in the chair.

“Oh yeah? What’d you think?”

Mike breathed out a laugh. “You fuckin’ suck.”

Everyone playfully agreed, Eddie ruffling his husbands hair like he used to do to him when they were kids. He finally had the upper hand on him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re all fuckin’ critics. Thank you,” Richie said, waving a hand. “It’s probably better than Bill’s movies though.”

“Hmm... No... Bill’s stuff is better,” Stan said before taking a sip of his beer.

“Okay... cool, cool, cool,” Richie started, digging through his leather jacket pocket, some crinkling sounds came from it, “would someone who fuckin’ sucks have these?” He pulled out a baggie filled with rolled joints, holding it up for the Losers to see.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, smacking Richie on the side of the head lightly. “That’s why you didn’t want to fuckin’ fly!”

“So smart, Eds,” Richie said with a smile, his head cranked back to look up at his husband.

“Just like old times!” Bev said, fist bumping Richie who had opened the bag of joints. “Give it here, Trashmouth.” After taking a single joint out of the baggie for him, and maybe Eddie, Richie passed it over to Bev who took one before passing it along.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, sitting back in his seat when his husband held up the joint to him.

“I didn’t light it yet.”

“No.” The Losers started ganging up at him, trying to encourage him to at least take one hit.

“What about the time when you smoked that cigarette?” Bill asked him, waiting for Bev to pass the lighter.

“The time you what?!” Richie blurted out, not believing what he just heard.

“Shut up, dude!” Eddie hissed at him.

“You fuckin’ smoked a cigarette? When?!” Ben asked before putting the joint around his lips, taking a hit.

“I remember that!” Mike blurted out, lighting up his joint. He took a quick hit, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it escape. “It was you, me, Bev, and Bill.”

“I was tricked into doing it!” Eddie tried defending himself, but everyone groaned at his response. “I have asthma, I wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but you did,” Bev added after her hit. “I remember I had to help you put it in your mouth because it was the wrong goddamn way.”

Mike started laughing. “Then he was too scared to light it.”

“Well... looks like I have some new material for my next show...” Richie said as he took a long drag of the joint.

“If you fucking put that in your show I will kill you, dude,” He said, flicking his ear lightly.

“Just... try it!” Richie held it up to him.

Eddie’s eyes went wide seeing a joint so close to his face, never in his life did he think that he would actually consider smoking pot. Well, his doctor had given him a medical card for it due to his high anxiety, but he’s never used it once, hell, he didn’t even pick up the physical card. In fact, he never told Richie that, knowing that he’d pay him to buy him some weed. Well... shit.

He took the joint from him, taking a quick glance around the room, the Losers were watching him, waiting for him to take his first hit.

“If any of you tell anyone I smoked cannabis-”

“Call it weed or pot like everyone else,” Ben said, punching Eddie’s arm playfully.

“...if any of you tell anyone I smoked pot I will fight you.”

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” Richie chanted loudly, shaking Eddie’s legs, which spiked the shorter mans anxiety. “Up! Up! Up!” He reached up, grabbing Eddie’s wrist, guiding the joint in between his lips.

Eddie was slightly resisting Richie pushing the joint at him. “Don’t you understand the health risks of smoking cannabis?!” He started, everyone was buckling up to try to understand his quick speech patterns that was about to come. “It can harm your lung tissues. Did you know your lungs can scar up? Because that’s exactly what’ll happen! All those blood vessels can get damaged and-” He was stopped when Richie managed to get the joint in between his lip.

Eddie grabbed the joint in between his fingers, Richie let go of it, but kept his hand up by Eddie’s face, ready to grab the joint when he was done. He took a pretty long drag, longer than anyone had expected him to.

“Whoa, easy, Eds,” Beverly warned.

Everyone was telling Eddie that that was enough, that he needed to let it go. Richie took the joint from his husband, waiting for him let out the smoke, but he was holding it in his mouth. Mike, Bill, and Bev remembered a scene similar to this before; when they were fourteen he did the exact same thing when trying his first and only cigarette. Eddie started choking, letting all the smoke he was holding onto. His cheeks were heavily flushed as this point, tears were beading up in his eyes.

The Losers laughed at him, Eddie held up his middle finger as he was trying to catch his breath, trying to stop coughing.

“No more weed for you,” Ben said, reaching over to pat his back.

“I-” Eddie paused, coughing up a lung, “agree,” he said coughing even more.

“Proud of my boy!” Richie said with the joint in between his lips, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

The Losers sat around in silence. Nobody was saying anything, not on purpose, but because they were all so stoned that they had no idea what was going on right now. Eddie had his back pressed against the chair, slouching. Even though he had one hit, it was a large hit and he’s never been high before, unlike the others, so he was up on Cloud Nine. Richie was playing with his fingers, making sure he was still alive as he lit up another joint.

“What?” Bill asked the empty air, thinking that somebody had said something.

Everyone glanced at one another, trying to figure out who said what.

“What?” Bev asked him.

They all started laughing for no reason.

This is exactly what they all missed being around each other in real life. Just sitting around, talking, maybe smoking some pot, just enjoying each others company. They needed to do this more often. Well, minus the weed part; save that for special occasions.

Everyone jumped when the oven from the kitchen beeped, letting Ben and Bev know that the turkey they’ve been waiting on was finally ready. The two high hosts grabbed each others hands, leaning against each other for support as they went into the kitchen. They kept giggling, turning off the oven before doing anything else so they wouldn’t forget later. Having the house burn down on Thanksgiving was something they didn’t wanted to happen. Ben put on oven mitts, pulling the turkey out, carrying it to the table where the rest of the Losers were slowly migrating their way over. Richie and Stan each had to grab Eddie’s arms, pulling him to his feet. He had to lean against Richie, who had to practically drag him to the table, pulling out a chair for him to sit.

Mike and Bill helped Bev and Ben bring the food out to the large table. Stan was staring at the table, not particularly at anything, not being able to focus on anything. He did smell food, however, that eventually snapped out of it. Everyone else took a seat, Ben at the head of the table with Bev to his left, holding hands. Everyone was passing around the wine that Stan had brought.

Bev giggled. “I want to make a toast,” she announced, holding her wine glass up, “to the Losers Club. Nothing or nobody can break us apart!”

Everyone cheered, clinging their wine glasses together, taking a sip before digging in to their Thanksgiving meal.

Everyone was laughing, talking again. They were still high as kites, but now that food was in the equation they were no longer like zombies, now everything was lively again. Richie kept cracking horrible jokes that didn’t make sense to anyone but himself; nobody was sure if it was because Richie wasn’t forming proper sentences, or if it was because they were so fuckin’ high and just couldn’t understand. He pressed his forehead on the table, his fork pointed at the ceiling that was holding a piece of turkey, laughing at something he didn’t say but rather was thinking. The rest of the Losers were laughing at him, having no idea what was going on.

“We... we gotta do this more often,” Ben said, mixing his mash potatoes and gravy together, “y’know, not just on holidays.”

Everyone agreed with him on that.

“Once a month,” Mike proposed before taking a sip of his wine.

Everyone could agree to that.

“Once a week,” Bill then said.

Again, everyone agreed to that as well. There was a pause between everyone before they agree that... no. Not once a week. Once a month would work better.

“Once a goddamn month. You’ll all get sick of us,” Richie said, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, whose eyes were wide as he had no idea what was going on as Richie pulled him close.

“No... they’ll get sick of you,” Eddie corrected him once he processed what his husband said. “I’m the least annoying one here.”

“Bullshit!” Ben said to Eddie. “We have to listen to you talklikethisaboutmedicalthings,” he mocked, speaking as fast as he possible could.

“Fuck off, bro.”

After sitting around eating for an hour, the majority of the food was practically gone, the pies were gone there was only one thing left. Richie’s brownies. At first everyone had insisted that they were too full to eat anymore, but Richie convinced them. They all sat around in the living room, back in their spots eating the brownies in silence.

“Um... Rich?” Stan said out loud, inspecting the brownie he bit into.

“Yeah?”

“...is... are... are these pot brownies?”

The Losers looked over at Richie, who was sitting on the floor in between Eddie’s legs.He stopped mid chew, looking at the brownie. They looked like normal brownies... the room smelt like pot for sure, but... He sniffed it, his eyes going wide when he realized his mistake.

He got the pot brownie batch he made mixed up with the normal brownie batch.

“Oh, fuck...” he said, looking up. “Um... my bad?” He said quietly with a shrug.

That didn’t make a difference to the Losers, in fact, they started laughing at his mistake. They finished up the brownies, just because they might as well, right?

Yeah. That was a fuckin’ mistake.

Mike was the one who passed out first in the reclining chair, his head drooped back as he let out soft snores. Bill followed suit, laying down on the coffee table just to ‘rest his eyes,’ but ended up falling asleep the moment he shut his eyes. Ben and Bev fell asleep on the couch, Ben slouching on the couch with Bev in his arms, Stan had his legs draped across their laps, using the arm rest as a pillow. Eddie was whining about wanting to be held, so he and Richie switched spots on the chair that Eddie had been hogging; Eddie curled up on Richie’s lap, his head pressed against his chest, the sound of his heart beating put him to sleep. Richie was out the moment he wrapped his arms around his Eddie Spaghetti.

They were all so fuckin’ high that they slept through the entire rest of the day through the night without as much as a sound. Nobody woke up, not even to get water or go to the bathroom. This was the best sleep that the seven of them had in years, who knew how great pot could be for sleep. It felt like old times when the Losers would spend the night at each others houses, staying up all night just enjoying each other until they all passed out.

This was the best Thanksgiving any of the Losers ever fuckin’ had.

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eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

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“About what you said back there...”

Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue. Warning for homophobic language and bullying.

Also on AO3

Eddie is targeted by bullies and Richie steps in to save him.

3k+ words. Oneshot

Once again, Eddie Kaspbrak found himself cornered by a group of bullies who were determined to ruin his day. Not that his day was going great to begin with. He’d forgotten his homework on his desk in his room. For every single class. Endlessly he was lectured about not having his homework, class after class, hour after hour. He’d stayed up late the night before to get it all done too so he was exhausted. He’d dozed off in algebra only to have Bill throw at eraser at his head before the teacher saw.

He’d decided to spend his lunch napping in the only place he was likely not to be disturbed. There was a corner under the bleachers, not far from where the smokers hid, where it was shadowed from the sun. It was the perfect dark place when the weather was nice. That’s where Eddie went, hoping to get a bit of sleep before his afternoon classes. Of course, as soon as he settled into the corner against the cold chain-link fence, he was met with unwanted company.

“Well, look who it is.”

Eddie’s eyes shot open at the sound of the voice. He knew this voice. Luke, football player, stereotypical bully rich guy jock. Pathetic really. He acted like he’d stepped out of an actual teen movie from the 80s and it was almost embarrassing to watch. Small guys like Eddie were just the kind of person he enjoyed pushing around. His goons, Rob and Steve, are standing behind him, smiling like assholes.

“Afternoon fellas. What can I do for you?” Eddie hoped they just called him a loser and moved along. He really didn’t have the energy for this right now.

“You’re in our spot.” Luke said, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look menacing.

Ok, that was bullshit. Eddie and his friends napped there all the time and never once saw them around. They didn’t smoke either so it’s not like they were hanging out farther down and saw them. Eddie wondered why they’d chosen to claim this spot, which had been theirs for so long. He had to really weigh whether or not he wanted to argue with them and potentially get his ass kicked in the process. If he did get beat up, his mom would come get him and that would be great, but then she’d take him to the hospital so not so great. Not worth the trouble.

“Sorry. Wasn’t aware this was your spot.” He said flatly, standing up and grabbing his bag off the ground. “Guess I’ll go fuck myself. Assholes.” He said under his breath. They were really not meant to hear that.

“What was that?” Luke asked, taking a step closer.

“Nothing.” Eddie said quickly, trying to walk past them.

Before he made it, Rob and Steve stepped in his path. Eddie stopped in his tracks before crashing into them and sighed. He really didn’t need this. Why couldn’t he just bite his tongue and walk away? He didn’t tell any of his friends where he was going either. One of the dumbest choices he’d made that day.

“Sounded like he called us a mean name.” Steve said, backing Eddie back against the fence.

“That’s what I heard.” Rob agreed.

“Look, I just wanted a place to nap. I’ll leave, you can have the spot and I won’t come back.” Eddie said, putting his hands up.

Rob pulled his backpack from his fingers and threw it into the dirt a few feet away. Steve’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder, making him jump and also cringe because his hands were probably filthy. Luke came to stand between them, in front of Eddie.

“I think you owe us an apology.” Luke said.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie really hated them, but he also didn’t want to get hurt.

Luke twisted his fist in the front of Eddie’s shirt and lifted him up with it, the cold metal of the fence scraping against his exposed lower back. Eddie prayed to whoever was listening that they’d just threaten him, scare him, and then leave him alone. He kept his mouth shut, hoping he wouldn’t antagonize them any further.

“I didn’t hear you.” Luke said, close to this face.

“I-I’m sorry.” Eddie gripped Luke’s wrist tightly as he dangled there. God, why did he have to be so little?

“I don’t think I believe you.”

Eddie knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this anytime soon. Why did he even get out of bed this morning? He could have played sick and his mom would have immediately called the school and let him stay home to rest. He wondered what they were going to do to him, going to make him do. In the past they’d taped him to a wall, his friends finding him later and carefully ripping all the tape off to get him down. They’d made him eat a sandwich they first rubbed in the dirt. It was disgusting and gritty and he for sure puked afterward with Bill rubbing his back. He’d been socked in the stomach more times then he could count, given wedgies that literally ripped his underwear and locked in lockers at least once a week.

He was ready to accept his fate when he heard what, at the moment, was the equivalent of an angel’s choir. His name, loud and clear and enough to take the attention off of Eddie for a second.

“Eddie. You ok?” Richie asked as he approached.

“Hey, Rich. I’m not doing so great.” He said with a half smile.

“I can see why. You’ve got some trash stuck to the front of your shirt.”

Luke released Eddie, dropping him into the dirt. Eddie landed on his butt, groaning at the sharp pain that radiated up his spine. The attention of the three bullies was now on Richie.

“What the fuck did you say, Tozier?” Luke asked, angry.

“I think I said you’re human garbage. Though the human part may be a bit of a stretch.” Richie grinned, his hands in his pockets, relaxed like they were having a casual conversation.

“You think you’re funny?” Luke left Eddie on the ground and walked toward Richie with Steve at his side. Rob stayed behind with Eddie, ready to beat him at Luke’s signal.

Richie shrugged. “Yea. I do. So does Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile immediately fell when Rob looked down at him. Of course, he was smiling at Richie’s words. His self-appointed protector always made him laugh and smile, especially when he was coming to his defense and putting down assholes. The fact that he was in love with him was only part of it.

“I was just going to kick your boyfriend’s ass, but I guess I’ll have to kick yours too.” Luke said, grabbing one side of Richie’s open button up shirt.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Eddie chimed in, on reflex.

“You’re not laying a hand on him.” Richie said at the same time.

“Yea, how are you going to stop me?”

“I’d fight until I’m bloody and dying on the street before I’d let you hurt him.” Richie said defiantly, leaning in close to Luke’s face. “You’re the human equivalent of dog shit. Pathetic. You think you’re some big shot football star who’s going places. You’re going to live in this town the rest of your life, a future gas station attendant waiting to happen.”

“I’m going to pound your ass into the ground, Tozier.”

Richie’s face split into a crooked grin. “Kinky.” He said just before Luke’s fist collided with the side of his face.

Richie lurched to the side with the force, falling to the ground. Luke followed him down and landed another punch along his jaw. Eddie tried to stand and go to his friend, but Rob put a hand to his chest and shoved him back down against the fence. He could only watch in horror as Richie was punch for a third time, his hands on Luke’s shoulders trying to push him off.

As if answering Eddie’s prayers, the cheerleading coach, who’d been walking nearby, heard him yell out and saw what was unfolding under the bleachers. She called out to them, told them to stop as she made her way to opening a few feet away. Steve grabbed Luke by the back of his shirt and pulled him up.

“We gotta go, man.” He said. Cliché as ever.

Luke stood and looked down at Richie. “Fucking fag.” He said before motioning for his friends to follow him as they rushed off.

Richie flipped them off, remaining on the ground. Eddie scrambled on his hands and knees over to Richie, not caring that he was getting dirty in the process. His glasses had fallen off, his left eye already swelling, a cut along his cheekbone. His nose was bleeding though didn’t seem to be broken and his lip was split. Eddie didn’t think three of four hits could do so much damage. He grabbed Richie’s glasses, glad to find they hadn’t been broken, and handed them to him.

“Shit, Richie. Are you alright?” Eddie asked, instinctively reaching to touch his face but stopping himself.

“I feel like my head is about to split open but otherwise ok.” Richie laughed before wincing, the act of smiling pulling at his split lip.

The cheerleading coach had gone after the three bullies and Eddie hoped that she saw their faces. Eddie stood, offering a hand to Richie to help him to his feet. His face was a bloody mess and he needed to put ice on his eye to help with the swelling. Eddie looked like he was close to crying and Richie didn’t want him to get to that point.

“I’m ok, Eds. Chicks like scars, right?” He asked with a small smile, careful of his lip this time.

“I think they’re more impressed when you actually fight back.” Eddie said, sniffling.

Richie’s smile widened as he reached out and ruffled Eddie’s hair. “I could probably use some of your expert care, Dr. K. Want to fix me up?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving his hand away and grabbing his backpack, which was now filthy. “Anyone at your house right now?”

“No. Why? Are you planning to skip?”

“Might as well. I don’t feel like being here anyway.”

“Picking fights with bullies, skipping class, what’s happened to my innocent little spaghetti?”

“Shut the fuck up. Do you want me to fix you up or not?”

Richie wiped the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand and followed after Eddie. His house wasn’t far by bike and they were there in less than ten minutes, Richie unlocking the door for them. He called out into the empty house, just to be sure that both of his parents were out. He got no response, so they ventured in.

“Where is your first aid kit?” Eddie asked, going straight to the kitchen.

“Uh…bathroom maybe?” Richie guessed.

He headed to the bathroom while Eddie rifled through the freezer. Richie was sure he’d seen a first aid kit somewhere before, he just wasn’t sure where his mom kept it. Looking under the sink, he found a small white box with a red cross on it near the very back.

“How do you not have an icepack in here?” Eddie called from the kitchen.

“I don’t think we’ve ever really used one.” Richie said, entering the room behind him with the first aid kit.

“This will have to do.” Eddie said, grabbing a small bag of frozen vegetable and turning to face Richie. His eyes fell to the small box in Richie’s hand. “You’re kidding right? That’s your first aid kit? It’s tiny. There’s no way it’s going to have everything we need.”

“I mean, don’t we just need some bandages?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You don’t know anything.” He grabbed a dish towel from a drawer and wet the corner of it in the sink before instructing Richie to sit at the kitchen table.

Eddie pulled a chair up in front of Richie and sat, opening the small box and sighing at the contents. Inside was a box of bandages, a roll of gauze, and thankfully some antiseptic spray. Richie took his glasses off and set them on the table, pressing the bag of frozen veggies to this left eye. Eddie set to work using the wet towel to clean the dirt and drying blood from his face. Richie could barely see him, but he could still make out the way his tongue poked out of his mouth while he focused.

When he was satisfied that everything was clean enough, Eddie grabbed the antiseptic spray and sprayed it onto a clean corner of the towel, not wanting to spray it that close to Richie’s eye. He dabbed the cut on his cheek with the towel and Richie hissed at the sting.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Eddie said softly.

“Your bedside manner is terrible, Dr. K.” Richie responded with a small smile.

“Shut up.” Eddie said as he very lightly dabbed Richie’s lip where it was split. He couldn’t do much for it, but he could disinfect it. He tried not to focus too much on the fact that he was touching Richie’s lips. They’d never had any problem being close to one another, Richie had for sure kissed his cheeks before. It was no wonder everyone thought they were dating. Eddie denied it whenever it was brought up because it wasn’t true, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish it were. Richie didn’t even bother denying it anymore.

“Alright, it’s not perfect. It would have been better if you’d had some butterfly closures, but this Flintstones bandage will have to do instead.” Eddie said, sticking the bandage to his cheek.

“Feels better already.” Richie slumped back against his chair, still holding the veggie bag to his eye.

Eddie began cleaning up, standing to throw the garbage away. Richie watched the blurry blob of color that was Eddie as he moved around the room.

“They didn’t hurt you, right?” Richie asked.

“No. They didn’t get the chance before you showed up.” Eddie said, keeping his back to Richie as he washed his hands at the sink.

“Good.”

“You shouldn’t have intervened. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you’d stayed out of it.”

“Better me than you.”

Eddie’s cheeks warmed at that and he was suddenly glad that Richie still had his glasses off. Of course he was glad that Richie had shown up when he did, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for his injuries. He only said what he did in his quest to keep Eddie safe. He loved him for it, but he wanted to keep him safe too.

“Hey…about what you said back there…” Eddie said, finally turning back to look at him.

“Which part?” Richie grinned. “I say so much it’s hard for me to keep track. They don’t call me Trashmouth for nothing.”

“When you said…you would fight until you were dying in the street to protect me. Did you mean that?”

Richie’s smile grew soft, trembled a bit at the corners of his mouth like he was struggling to hold it in place. “Yea. I meant it.”

“Why? Why do you always put my safety above your own?”

“I’d die if anything happened to you, so it’s better to die making sure nothing does.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never felt so loved as he did in that moment and he wanted nothing more than to let him know how he felt. Emotion welled up in his chest, up his throat and to his lips before he could even think about it.

“Don’t be stupid. I’d die if anything happened to you too.” He said, tears in his eyes. “I love you, Richie.”

Richie’s smile returned. “I know, Eds. I love you too.” He set the bag of veggies aside and slid his glasses onto his face. As soon as he could see, he was met with the sight of Eddie, covering his mouth with one hand, tears spilling down his cheeks, his other hand tangled in the bottom of his shirt.

He opened his arms, signaling without words for the other boy to come to him. Eddie crossed the room quickly, collapsing against Richie and wrapping his arms around his shoulders in a hug. Richie’s arms came down around his middle as he pulled him down onto his lap.

“How about, next time we fight together and neither of us has to die?” Richie suggested.

Eddie nodded against his shoulder. “We need a better first aid kit though.” He sniffled.

Richie breathed out a laugh. “Sure thing, Dr. K.”

Eddie leaned back and cupped Richie’s face with one hand, his thumb bumping the Flintstones bandage. He was so stupidly perfect, even with his face all banged up and bruised. Pushing his glasses up, Eddie planted a kiss to the side of his eye where the bruise was starting to form.

“I told you, scars are hot.” Richie grinned.

“It’s a bruise. Not a scar. Dumbass.”

“Just as effective.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Richie’s mouth snapped shut, the dopey grin gone. “Yea. Yes. Absolutely.”

“What about your lip?” Eddie asked, nudging the corner of Richie’s mouth with his thumb near where it was split.

“It’s fine. Kisses are supposed to make injuries better, right?”

Eddie smile and rolled his eyes, leaning down to connect their mouths. The kiss was innocent, soft, just testing the waters. Eddie let his hands rest against Richie’s chest, the other’s hands holding tight to his hips, keeping him on his lap. Not that Eddie was planning to go anywhere any time soon. Feeling more comfortable now, they decided to experiment, their lips moving together. Richie winced, making Eddie pull away.

“Did that hurt?” Eddie asked, eyeing his lip.

“Worth it.” Richie said with a grin, pulling Eddie back in for a hug.

#Reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #It #it (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes

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proudofmy · 4 years

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four

The forest was full of sighs and noises that were amplified at night,

. hey, cupcake are you nervous?

Carm said to Laura who was shaking her hand convulsively

. I ... I, emmm NO?

. unconvinced as NO.

. yes I am

. We all are.

. how are you doing with your new teeth?

He asks Mel to talk about something else.

. well, I'm getting used to the fact that my daughter transformed me, halfway

. she still asks me how it was possible. a boh don't look at me, the genius is you LaF.

. I will continue the analysis

Laura shivered, NO MORE NEEDLES, she couldn't take it anymore.

She looked Carm in the eye, the dark was no longer a problem, and she had put aside the vegetables, now she preferred a good steak, and not even the blood they kept in the fridge bothered her anymore, but she would have preferred that there was a fridge just for the stocks.

. silence

Carm whisper

. Laura go.

She took a deep breath and began to chant while Mel, LaF, and Carmilla threw a red powder towards the border that stopped in mid-air as if it were stuck to an invisible wall that slowly opened into a tingling passage.

. we do not have much time. here we go!

They went through the hole that was being rebuilt behind them.

And they went on into the night.

. is it today that he must?

. in theory today, or rather tomorrow at dawn she rises again then gathers her followers, and then ...

. death and destruction!

. fairly accurate, YES

. I deal with divinity?

. no, first we must render the rites harmless.

. and how?

They positioned themselves in a small hole from where they could see the road towards a pile of stones and an arch with hanging ivy, there people were busy, LaF said they had to undermine the rites even the slightest mistake was enough to make the ritual useless, like blowing out candles or burning the steps they had placed on the ground, the problem was to get there.

Because of what they had seen, the fanatics were fast and armed.

They took action and decided that Mel and Carm would lead the way. Laura and LaF would try to undermine the ritual.

. hey!

. who are you?

. we got lost!

The two tried to make the most innocent look possible!

. two of your friends brought us here but we were tired of waiting!

. you are in the women's restricted area.

. or come on!

. Go away!

The ill that had happened with his colleagues was approaching, and Carm continued to make Mel speak, acting innocent.

. come on don't get angry …

. you will be killed for your impudence women ...

The ax he wore on his waist came down towards Mel but something blocked the weapon's travel

. NO! NINTH! bad ... we asked you to help us and you want to kill us.

. leave me witch.

. no NOT witch, VAMPIRE

Mel and Carm pounced on the guards and sent them to their god to ask for forgiveness, they could only have made them pass out but hey, they were the ones who started it.

Everything had been done with the minimum of noise thanks to the comforting that LaF had thrown to the ground before the fighting began.

It looked like one of those western spaghetti-style movies, where punches and slaps started… if it wasn't a mortal danger it would have been even fun, Carm and Mel were a nice duo as far as the desire to lead is concerned.

They gave a 5 as soon as they finished and got married on the sides of the opening, where a slight light filtered through the leaves of a dangling ivy, suggestive as an image, it was enough to hide 8 pairs of eyes that wandered beyond.

What they saw was an immense clearing of beaten earth with continuous passages, large wooden crates with an inscription in Italian and quite worrying symbols and guards armed with large knives to guard the boxes, the light came from 5 huge braziers that burned around some stones, they seemed to be placed in a particular position, but from where they were they could not understand their shape well, and they did not dare to send a mini drone to survey from above in the silence that there would have been noticed immediately.

Hooded figures wrapped in long cloaks were talking in a corner to the right of the portal where the girls were, and one of them pulled down her hood and wiped sweat, a tall man with angular ligaments with a large scar on his cheek.

One of those with him scolded him heavily by calling IDIOT, this immediately assumed an attitude of constraint he put his hood on and put on his face an expressionless mask with only 4 holes 2 for the eyes, one for the nose, and one for the mouth.

The girls looked back and retraced their steps.

. when is dawn?

. there are 2 hours left

. I would say it is better to act.

. Yes, in my opinion too!

. you two scare me.

Mel smiled.

. we hope that even the friends we are about to lead are afraid.

And he punched Carm who had a sparkle in his eyes, which did not bode well.

. wait

. what is it now?

. Carm can you feel it?

Laura took a deep breath through her nose and a sweetish mixed with metallic smell tickled her throat.

. now that… yes… BLOOD

. blood?

The others tried to sniff but couldn't smell it, only Carm and Laura smelled the sweet and metallic smell of blood.

. follow me

Carm got up and began to cross the bush until he stopped in front of some rocks where a hole allowed with a little luck the vision of what was happening beyond.

And it was not a pretty sight, the other individuals with cloaks and masks were pushing at least 30 people with spears towards a cage where the bodies of other people were piled up in piles.

A voice was heard shouting near them.

. quick that we don't have all the time the ritual must be done

. will it be today?

Asked a voice?

. Yes!

Then everything fell into silence until the first screams of the people entering the cage, as soon as they set foot inside they were taken by an invisible force and pierced and torn until life left the body and it was another sacrifice.

. our lord is taking strength soon will bring out!

Said a red-cloaked figure who had just arrived.

#laura&carmilla #carmilla karnstein #laura hollis #carmilla fanfic

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ericsonclan · 4 years

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You're My Home Part 3

Summary: Mitch wakes up to a text from Violet that makes it clear she needs somewhere to stay.

Read on A03:

Mitch woke up to the feeling of drool seeping out of his mouth. Sitting up, he wiped his mouth off with a sleepy groan before checking his phone. Shit. Violet had left him a message at 8:04 this morning.

you home?

Violet only reached out for one reason: her dad was being an asshole drunk again.

yup come on over

Throwing his phone aside, Mitch looked down at his bare chest. The sweatpants were passable, but he should probably find a shirt. Picking up the nearest one on the floor, he sniffed it deeply before tossing it to the side. That one was too rank even for him. Finding another, he gave it a whiff, finding it passable and throwing it on. He shuffled through the cramped kitchen of his family’s trailer home, grabbing a stale bagel off the counter and chewing it placidly. There was still some coffee in the pot too. His mom must’ve made some before heading off to work; Dad wouldn’t be home for several hours either.

Stepping into their living room, Mitch found his brother Willy crouched criss-cross applesauce on the couch, engrossed in the level of Spyro he was playing. As soon as he saw Mitch though, he paused the game and threw his controller to the side, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Mitch! You’re finally up! Can we play the game now? Please please please??”

Mitch rolled his eyes good-naturedly before ruffling Willy’s hair. “Sure, bud. Just remember: no telling Mom and Dad, OK?”

Willy nodded eagerly, his eyes even larger than normal.

Mitch knelt down to sort through their collection of old video games. Pulling out the Frogger case, he opened it to reveal the game Willy was truly asking about: Mortal Kombat. Putting the disc into their Playstation, Mitch booted up the game. “Violet might be coming over soon so you should get some pants on,”

Willy looked down at his bare legs. “I spilled milk on my PJ’s,”

Mitch noticed the crumpled pants at the foot of the couch. “Well, throw them in the room and get some other ones,”

Willy scampered off, still talking loudly from their bedroom. “Think Vi will want to play too?”

“We’ll see,” It was hard to tell how Violet would be feeling when she arrived. The boys settled in to play a round together. As they always did, Mitch chose Scorpion and Willy choose Sub-Zero.

They’d been playing for about twenty minutes when there was a knock at their door. “Door’s open!” Mitch yelled, in the midst of trying to land a fatality on Sub-Zero. Willy was getting seriously good: he’d have to step up his game if he wanted to keep winning.

Violet walked in. Wordlessly she walked across the room, plopping into the armchair and watching them play.

“Hey, watch this, Vi!” Willy exclaimed. Catching Mitch unaware, he landed a fatality of his own on Scorpion, ripping off his head and pulling out his spine. Willy cheered as Sub-Zero proudly displayed the decapitated remains.

Violet gave a small smile in Willy’s direction. “Good job,”

Mitch observed Violet cautiously, a small frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t see any bruises. That was good. Still, they could be underneath her hoodie. If that piece of shit did anything… Mitch tried to take a deep breath, slowing down his heart rate. He and Violet had had this conversation before. She didn’t want him ever doing anything, “pulling yourself into my shit” as she put it. One of these days he’d love to get his hands on the materials needed to blow up the dick’s van, but considering he had a record as a “troubled youth”, a move like that would immediately lead to the finger being pointed at Mitch. He couldn’t risk getting taken away. He wouldn’t do that to Willy.

They’d gone a few rounds without either of them pulling a fatality move. Time to fix that. Mashing the controller, Mitch got Scorpion to pull his signature move, pulling off his mask to reveal a skull underneath and incinerating Sub-Zero with his fire breath.

“Aaw, man!” Willy exclaimed, letting his controller drop to the couch.

“Can’t beat the master, kid,” Mitch grinned smugly.

“But I did! Like twice!”

“Whatever,” Mitch looked over to Violet, holding out his controller. “Wanna turn, Vi?”

Violet shrugged but stood up to take the controller.

Mitch headed back to the kitchen, trying to scope out some food. Knowing Violet, she probably hadn’t eaten since last night. Opening the fridge, Mitch was disheartened but not surprised to find nothing but the last dregs of a milk jug and some questionable lunchmeat inside. Shopping day was tomorrow. Mitch glanced back toward his bedroom, wondering for a second if he should text Louis and let him know Violet was here. But the fact Violet had texted him probably meant she wanted to keep things on the downlow. Louis coming over right now might be more than she could handle. Mitch strode back into the living room just in time to see Violet landing a fatality with Sonya. She rolled her eyes as her character stepped back, blowing a kiss that sent an ember flying over to torch her opponent.

“God, Sonya’s finishing move is so stupid,”

“Then why do you always play as her?” Mitch asked with a smirk, leaning against the wall.

Violet looked away, flustered. “Shut up,”

“I’m doing a McDonald’s run. Wanna come along?”

Violet’s ears immediately perked up at that. “Sure,”

“I wanna come!” Willy exclaimed, leaping up on the couch.

“Nah, somebody’s gotta stay and watch the house. Besides, you need to brush up on your moves so you can annihilate me when I get back,”

Willy didn’t seem quite convinced by Mitch’s words but he quickly flopped back down on the couch, starting up his own round. “I want a Happy Meal!”

“Will do,” Mitch replied, grabbing his keys before heading out the door, Violet close behind. He still had enough money from his last odd job for a treat. The two teens headed out to his beat-up car, hopping inside. They drove in silence; Mitch’s car only had a tape player and that had broken long before he received it.

It was Violet who spoke first. “He didn’t hit me.”

“And your mom?”

“He didn’t get her either. Broke a lamp though,”

“Bastard,” Mitch’s hand tightened on the wheel.

“It’s fine,”

“Vi, that is the exact fucking opposite of fine!” Mitch huffed in annoyance. He shouldn’t be snapping at her. “Is he gone now?”

“His new route starts on Tuesday. He’ll be gone for a week,” Violet stared at the dashboard, her arms crossed tightly. “My mom’s got her diner shift tonight so at least she’ll be out of his reach,”

“You’re staying with us tonight. And don’t give me any shit about it. You can crash on the couch,”

“…Thanks,” Violet’s voice was small.

Mitch turned into the McDonald’s drive through lane. “Now let’s get some fucking nuggets,”

It was about a half hour before they made it back to the trailer, walking in to find Willy still busy trying to master Mortal Kombat. They sat around the living room eating their nuggets and Happy Meal and taking turns at the controls. After about an hour more, they all decided it was time to switch to something else. At Willy’s request, they put on Dumb and Dumber. They’d all seen it at least a dozen times, but the jokes and gags still had Willy and Mitch laughing while the occasional chuckle came from Violet. Mitch noticed Violet texting as the movie went on. He wondered who it could be but didn’t pry.

Once the movie finished up, Mitch and Violet amused themselves on their phones while Willy started up Spyro again. It wasn’t long afterwards that Mr. Baker showed up, his arms full of grocery bags.

“Boys, a little help here?” he called from behind the load in his hands. All three hurried to assist him. A look of surprise crossed Mr. Baker’s face as Violet took the bag directly blocking his view.

“Oh, Violet! I wasn’t expecting you,”

“Violet’s staying the night,” Mitch declared before Violet might try to back out.

“That’s wonderful! I’ll be sure to make extra for tonight’s dinner,” Mr. Baker glanced at the side of the fridge. “Willy, looks like you’re my helper tonight,”

“What are we making, Dad?” Willy asked, looking up excitedly from the box of goldish crackers he’d begun devouring.

“Not that,” his father replied, pulling the crackers out of his son’s hands and ruffling his hair before placing the box on a higher shelf. “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs,”

“Yeah! Meatballs! Meatballs! Meatballs!” Willy chanted, searching the fridge for the newly bought ingredients.

Violet’s phone dinged. She pulled it out and answered it immediately, her brow furrowed in concentration as she typed out her response. Once she was done, she glanced up at Mitch who was sitting across from her at the couch. He’d been watching the interaction unfold. “It’s my mom,”

“She know where you are?”

“Yeah. Now she does,”

“Was she the one you were texting earlier?”

Violet shook her head. “That was Louis,”

“And I’m guessing you didn’t fill him in completely,”

Violet rolled her eyes. “You know how he gets about this stuff. He’d drive over and try to force me to stay at his mansion instead,”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“His house is creepy. Nothing but empty rooms and servants who look at me like they’re just waiting to catch me trying to steal some shit. This is better,”

Mitch snorted. “Leave it to Vi to prefer a trailer home to a mansion,”

“You know what I mean,”

Mitch looked over at Willy and his dad who were busy measuring the pasta for dinner. She wasn’t wrong. The location might be ass, but he couldn’t think of any people he’d rather be stuck with.

Mrs. Baker arrived home shortly before dinner was ready. She collapsed wearily in the armchair, her head thrown back and eyes closed. “Mitchell, be a dear and rub my feet, would you?” Mitch quickly acquiesced, giving Violet the stink eye as she smirked at him. He rubbed his mother’s feet gently. She cracked open an eye, giving him a tired smile before glancing over at the couch.

“Violet! What a nice surprise. Are you staying for dinner?”

“She’s staying the night!” Willy called from the kitchen. “We’re gonna have a sleepover!”

“That’s a nice thought dear, but it is a school day tomorrow, so you’ll be heading to bed on time,”

Mitch caught the look his parents exchanged across the room. They knew of Violet’s home life. They’d tried to intervene the first few times she’d come over late at night, calling the police and reporting her father. But without her mother’s testimony there wasn’t a case and Violet’s mother never wavered in her unwillingness to testify.

They all sat down to a family meal a few minutes later, sharing stories of their days and passing food round the table. Violet was included just as much as anyone else. Considering she’d known Mitch for over five years now she was practically family. Mitch noticed his parents’ glances his way as he handed the bread over to Violet. He was pretty sure they thought he had a crush on her, but he wasn’t going to bother correcting them. Violet wasn’t out at home yet; he wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to be. Best to leave that matter alone unless Violet saw fit to do otherwise. Willy was sent off to bed shortly after dinner. After a great deal of protest, he finally went, angrily stomping off in the same pajamas he’d worn all day. Mr. and Mrs. Baker retired to their room as well, leaving Violet and Mitch in the living room.

“Want to head to the roof?” Mitch offered.

Violet simply nodded.

In the years the Bakers had lived in the trailer park, it hadn’t taken Mitch very long to find all the good hiding places. One of the best was on the roof of their home, a small space that could just fit two people. The two of them leaned back against the plastic exterior, watching the sky thoughtfully.

“So,” Violet finally broke the silence, “Bring any hot girls up here yet?”

Mitch snorted. “I wish. How ‘bout you? Getting any action?”

Violet shook her head. “Don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon,”

“Howe High School is a damn wasteland,”

“You can say that again,”

“How about this?” Mitch asked, looking over at Violet. “Let’s make a deal: five years from now when we’re in college we’ll both have smoking hot girlfriends,”

Violet quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think we can really plan for something like that to happen for sure when-”

“Deal?” Mitch asked, raising his fist for a fist bump.

Violet rolled her eyes good-naturedly, returning the gesture. “Deal,”

“I bet my girlfriend’s gonna be hotter than yours,” Mitch declared, laying back with a smile, his arms behind his head.

Violet scoffed. “Yeah right,”

The two lay there in silence watching the stars and only occasionally speaking, their words casual and off-handed. When it had grown truly dark, they snuck back inside. Mitch gave Violet the blanket that rested across the back of the armchair before wishing her a good-night and heading off to bed himself. It wasn’t much, but he was glad his family was able to offer Violet a place to stay whenever she might need it. He hoped she never hesitated to take them up on that offer.

Setting his alarm for the next day, Mitch rolled under his covers with a groan. He wasn’t looking forward to school tomorrow. It looked like Violet had forgotten her backpack. Knowing her dad, he’d still be asleep in the morning if they wanted to risk stopping by her house and sneaking in to grab it. They’d decided tomorrow if it was worth the risk. With that decided, Mitch sank into the comfort of his pillow and let sleep overtake him.

#twdg #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg willy #ericson's diner au #fanfic #violet mitch brotp

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jarchivist · 5 years

Text

Sound

My Reddie fix-it fit because fuck ur canon Stephen.

Read on AO3 here!!

Sound.

It was sudden, soft, and comforting; Almost as though it was bursting through a deep darkness that Eddie had found himself trapped in. It was something he felt as though he hadn't experienced in a while - A faint voice came through the ring in his ears. What were they saying? He could barely make anything out. The words sounded jumbled and muffled, and - Why couldn't he make his eyes open? Why couldn't he move? Everything hurt. Where was he? His home? A hotel? Somewhere with Myra?

Derry.

Memories rushed into his mind as he struggled to open his eyes. He had come back to Derry. Mike Hanlon had called, and they — They had all come back together. The Loser Club. They had Chinese food and drinks. They reminisced and laughed and joked and shouted — The fortune cookies.

Pennywise.

Eddie felt his breath catch in his throat, but something kept it steady. Was something helping him breathe? His chest ached. Why did it hurt so badly? He was vaguely aware of tubes and wires and the pressure on his chest. But why the hell were they in him? Why were there so many things poking at him? Damn, why did it hurt?

Richie.

Pennywise had him caught in those lights. The deadlights. He couldn't break out of it. He was dangling limply in the air, his eyes blank, staring into nothingness. The fence post. 'It kills monsters if you believe it does.' The words Beverly had spoken to him echoed in the swirl of memories filling his head. He had to do something. Eddie couldn't let Richie die; He wouldn't. He threw the post, convincing himself that it would hit. He made himself believe that it would be enough to save Richie. He remembered thinking that he had done it. That everything was over. He was sure he had redeemed himself and saved everyone — Then it was dark.

Richie...

It was Richie's voice that had broken through that thick darkness. The emptiness he was feeling — the hollowness in his chest and throat. But he knew now that the words he had been hearing were Richie's. Though, there was a tone to his voice that Eddie didn't recognize. Almost a crack in and between his words.

"Eddie, please..."

It was soft. Sad. Was Richie crying? Why in the hell would Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier be crying? No, he never cried. He cracked dirty jokes and spat on his hand then tried to rub it on your face. He was the one that always made everyone laugh. He always made Eddie laugh...

Touch.

Eddie felt a gentle warmth against his hand. Calloused fingers desperately brushed against his own. Richie's hand closed gently around his; He was shaking. "Please..." Eddie felt a shift in weight and felt a tickle of curls against his skin. Richie's forehead was pressed against his hand. "I can't lose you, dipshit. Please," he continued, a quiet whimper breaking his words. "Don't leave me again."

Richie.

That was enough to keep him grounded. Enough to force himself to pull away from the darkness; To focus on the breath filling his lungs and the steady beat of his heart. Eddie made himself listen to Richie's voice as the sound of it became more and more stifled. Behind his closed eyes, he could feel the world spinning. Where was his inhaler?

"Eds... Eddie..." A sob.

Richie...

Nothingness.

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

Hunger.

How long had it been since Eddie had felt hungry? Or anything, for that matter. The air around him was thick and cold, and damn did it smell horrible. But it was familiar. He had been in hospitals enough times to recognize that he was in one now. He moved. Fucking hell, he was stiff. How long had he been stuck in this place? His fingers twitched against another's hand. Callouses.

Richie?

Eddie squeezed his eyes tight before slowly opening them. The room he was in was dimly lit; Dull sounds came from the small TV hanging against the wall. He strained against the sting of air as he readjusted to sight and tilted his head just slightly enough to see the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed.

"Richie..." His voice came out as a soft hum, his throat burning with each syllable. He barely recognized it. In the pale light, he could tell that Richie hadn't shaved in a while. "Rich..."

"Nngh..." Eddie felt Richie's hand twitch against his own. "Fuck'ff... 'm stayin.." Drool ran down his chin. Eddie cringed.

"Hey... Richie..." He tried to move, every bone in his body screaming in protest, begging him to stop. With a deep, even breath, he gathered every ounce of energy he had to nudge Richie's hand off the bed. "Hey."

"AH! What the fuck!" Richie jumped three feet off of his chair, his weary eyes wide, panicked. "What..." He reached up to rub at the sleep still lingering on his face and adjusted his glasses. "E - Eddie?"

"Hey, Rich..." Eddie cracked a smile, fighting back the urge to vomit. The room felt like it was spinning.

"H - Holy fuck, Eddie!" Richie lunged forward, gently setting a shaking hand against Eddie's cheek. "Eddie! Holy shit. Holy fucking shit." He was smiling, but - Tears filled his eyes, his voice was cracking. Eddie could count on one hand how many times he'd seen him this way. Richie had always seemed unbreakable. Unwavering from his comedic front, but now - It was almost as if he didn't know what to do. His thumb rubbed quick circles into Eddie's skin. He kept rocking forward but hesitated at the last moment, like he was resisting the urge to throw himself onto the bed. "Jesus, we thought you would never wake up..." His head leaned forward, defeated. "Fuck you, man..." Eddie heard a few drops hitting the rumpled bedsheets. His hand dropped from his cheek and clenched tightly onto the hospital gown covering Eddie's weak shoulders.

"Hey," Eddie managed, shifting his head to the side to press a warm cheek to Richie's still trembling hand. "Relax..."

"Don't you fucking tell me to relax, Kaspbrak." He didn't lift his head. He barely even moved. "I thought that I -" Richie cut himself off and paused before quietly continuing, "I thought I lost you... And I - I had barely just gotten you back, dipshit..." His shoulders jerked. "I saw your stupid face in that," he scoffed and shook his head. "In that fucking nasty restaurant and I... When I remembered you - I realized that I'm fucking sick of living in a world without you and..."

Eddie felt his heart flutter, his breath leaving his lungs. Who was this man that was sitting at his bedside? He was tired and broken. He was so soft, so quiet. Eddie closed his eyes, nuzzling into Richie's fingers. He remembered when they were younger - More than once, Eddie snuck out of his house when his mother was being particularly hard on him. It was never too early or too late for him to show up at Richie's home. His parent's always welcomed him with open arms, offering anything he could need. He always appreciated their kindness but, the only thing he ever really needed was time with Richie. He smiled, remembering the countless nights they had spent hiding in Richie's bedroom, reading comics, watching stupid movies, doing homework, or just talking. They talked about everything. School, parents, music, the other losers, crushes...

Rumors.

He remembered one night in particular. One of the only times Eddie had ever seen Richie truly break - School had been rough that day. Henry Bowers was relentless, calling Richie some horrifying names, and then the rumors started circulating; And of course, being in middle school, it happened fast. Eddie could tell that it was all getting to him - Even though he insisted that it wasn't. So when he showed up at his house later that evening, he wasn't shocked to find Richie sitting at his desk with his face in his hands. He yelled and cried and hit his fists against his thighs. He didn't make one stupid joke.

They slept in the same bed that night. They held hands. Eddie vaguely remembered watching him cry himself to sleep, wishing he could do more to help.

More than once, Eddie was the one crying and yelling - More often than not, about his overbearing mother and how she had been giving him more and more medication. Things with weird side - effects now. They made him dizzy. They made him sick to his stomach. So maybe the pills had never been placebos in the first place... But no matter how upset, no matter how sick he got, Richie always brought him back from it. So -

"I - Richie..." Eddie closed his eyes. What in the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'Oh yeah! Sure, sure! I'm sick of that too! Let's get fucking married!' Holy fuck, he needed some pain killers. He could tell him that everything was okay; That he was okay, and that it was all over. He could tell Richie that his voice was what anchored him to this absolute shitstain of a life he had been living - But all he could manage was, "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" Richie snapped, almost offended. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He had lifted his head, eyes puffy and red.

Eddie blinked, "I -" and stopped.

"If it weren't for you, I would be dead," hesitation. "We'd all be dead, Eds."

Was that true, though? Eddie had also almost gotten Richie killed and... He grimaced. It was a memory he wished he could forget. "...Don't fucking call me that."

"Man shut the fuck up." Richie smiled, Eddie grinned. He had gotten what he wanted. "I am trying to have a touching moment with my best friend that almost fucking died. Like twelve times. Let me call you Eds."

"Better than fucking 'Eddie Spaghetti...'" Eddie smiled and tilted his head downwards to avert his gaze, but it wasn't lost on him what it did to Richie's attitude. He saw him choke on a bit of a sob, then hide it with a laugh. "Don't laugh at me, I'm fucking right." He raised a brow, waiting for the snarky reply or another silly nickname - But it was silent for a moment before Richie spoke again.

"Don't... Don't distract me, you piece of shit." Richie reached out and grabbed Eddie's hand, holding it tight in his own. "I have to get this out now before I lose my fucking nerve and end up having to wait another 27 damn years."

Oh, God.

"I almost lost my chance, okay?" Richie's face tensed. Eddie could tell he was fighting off tears again. "I don't want to lose you. I can't. I don't know what the fuck I would do." He tilted his head, forcing their eyes to meet. Eddie could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.

'For fuck's sake, Eddie, you're 40 years old. Stop acting like a fucking school girl.' He bit his lip, waiting for Richie to continue.

"If you had died, Eds - I... I don't think I would have been far behind."

Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, the breath leaving his lungs. "Don't - Don't say that -"

"I'm a little bitch, Eds. I wouldn't have been able to last without you. Not after remembering all these fucking..." He chuckled to himself. "Do you remember the kissing bridge?"

"How could I not?" Eddie smiled, letting his fingers lace together with Richie's. "You got shit on by a bird on that bridge," his smile faded, "and then you tried to wipe it on me. Fucking asshole."

"Would you expect anything less of me?" He shrugged. "If I recall correctly, you kicked me in the shin, so I'd say we're even."

"Even?! You wiped bird shit on my fucking face! I should have kicked you in the di -!" Eddie cringed, gripping at his stomach. "Jesus fuck..." He closed his eyes tight, then leaned his head back against the pillow. There were eyes on him.

"Eddie..?" Richie's voice dropped, his fingers brushing against Eddie's pale arm. "Hey, I'm trying to fucking confess here, don't go... Don't crash on me... Eddie."

Eddie could hear the panic in Richie's voice. He needed to pull himself together. "I'm fine, Rich. Stop worrying so damn much." He opened his eyes; a soft smile spread over his lips. Richie looked so tired... "Listen -" He stopped and broke the gaze between them, reaching up to grab Richie's hand. It was so familiar in his own - It was just like when they were kids, though much bigger now. Eddie's lithe fingers laced through Richie's clumsier ones. "Why... Don't you try and get some sleep?"

Richie stayed quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on their entwined fingers. He tightened his grip, trying desperately to hold himself together. "This fucked me up, man..."

"I -" A pause. "I'm sorry."

"You should be Goddammit." Richie's eyes stayed focused on their hands, but Eddie could feel the tears stinging them. "I... I almost lost my," A pause. "I almost lost my fucking chance to tell you and..."

"Richie." Eddie shook their hands, trying to break him from his daze. What he said next shocked him. It was nothing but word vomit, and he was surprised his pride didn't get in the way. Maybe it was something induced by the insane amount of drugs running through his system. Perhaps it was real vomit? "Shut the fuck up and stop being a damn coward. Fucking do it."

Oh, God.

Sound.

The chair Richie had been sitting on screeched against the ground, and there was a new weight against Eddie's chest. He hadn't even seen him move. He barely noticed Richie's hand leaving his own.

Touch.

Richie's lips pressed desperately into Eddie's. They were chapped, thirsty, sad, tired. A hint of cigarettes lingered for a moment before he stopped caring. They kissed for seconds, minutes, an eternity, making up for so many lost years. Eddie's stomach ached, his muscles screamed in protest but -

Richie.

"It's about fucking time," a voice came from the doorway.

Richie fell back into the chair, wires tangled around his arm. "JESUS CHRIST, MAN." His face was burning red, Eddie's head buried in his pillow.

"When were you going to come and tell the rest of us that he was awake?" Stanley leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, brow raised.

"Fuck you, man. Do you have any fucking idea how long I've waited to do that?" Richie stood, a finger pointing accusingly in Stan's direction.

Stanley grinned. "Yes. I have. You were 12 when you started pining. So what? You're 41 now... That's 29 years?"

#reddie #Richie tozier #Eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #fix it

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mischiefandspirits · 4 years

Text

Mystery Meat: Polpette

S01-E01, part 3 of 3: Some Fenton family bonding, and Danny puts an end to the fighting.

Last time on Living Phantom ~ Next time on Living Phantom

Veeeeeegiieeeessss!

Meeeeeeaaaaaat!

Cookie?

Danny shot upwards with a scream, looking around for the ghost. He found himself in his room. “Wha-what's going on?”

Tucker and Sam were at his side in an instant.

“You passed out. We took you home. You've been asleep for four days!”

“Four days?” Danny shrieked.

Tucker laughed. “Nah. It's only been a couple hours.”

Danny flopped back down and threw an arm over his face.

“Knock it off, Tucker. This is the second time today your carelessness almost got him killed.”

“Me? I almost got him killed? The only reason this happened is because you had to be unique. You had to take the meat away! And I'm going to get it back!”

“You want to change that menu back? YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO GO THROUGH ME TO DO IT!”

The door slammed and Danny looked up to see he was alone. “Oh well. I'm sure everything will be back to normal by tomorrow,” he sighed.

Pleaded, really. He was more than ready to be done with this stupid fight.

He stayed laying for a moment then got up and went to where his friends had left his bag. He smiled as he saw copies of the notes for the two classes he’d practically slept through with his stuff. He started pulling out books to get to work on his homework when a knock sounded at the door.

“Danny?”

“What’s up?”

The door opened and Jazz peaked in. “Dinner’s ready. I made spaghetti.”

“Thanks, Jazz,” he said, standing up. He frowned when he felt his binder shifting. He reached under his shirt to fix it only to stop when he saw his sister give him a look. He stuck his tongue out at her, but went to his closet to take off his binder. “What happened to your hair?”

She frowned and brushed her fingers through the choppy feathered ends. “Mom and Dad think I’m a ghost and attacked me with a vacuum cleaner. They’re downstairs trying to figure out why it didn’t work.”

“At least it wasn’t the foam this time,” Danny said as he finished up.

“They’re getting worse and worse,” she huffed and they headed down for dinner.

“They’re just excited that the portal’s finally working. They’ll calm down soon enough.”

“Dad has PhDs in mechanical and electrical engineering and masters in physics and chemistry while Mom has PhDs in biology, chemistry, and physics with a master in mechanical engineering. They’re geniuses! They should be doing so much more than hunting fictional creatures!”

“We don’t know that ghosts aren’t real,” Danny said, rubbing his neck. “I mean, the portal works, right? That has to mean something.”

“A portal? They’ve got a hole in the wall that spits out green mist and electrocutes you.” Jazz flinched and gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shrugged and fiddled with his bandages. “It’s fine.”

“I just meant, the portal doesn’t mean ghosts are real. You shouldn’t encourage them.”

“I’m just keeping an open mind.”

Jazz tutted, but otherwise kept quiet. When they reached the first floor, she went to start plating up food while Danny went to the door to the lab.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Loud footsteps could immediately be heard and Danny backed away as his dad came running into the kitchen. “Spaghetti! You made meatballs, right?”

“Right here, Dad,” Jazz said, grabbing the pot.

His dad eyed her wearily for a moment then said, “If you are Jazzie-pants, you’re the best!”

She threw her hands in the air.

He pressed a kiss to her head then grabbed his plate and loaded it up with meatballs.

“How was your nap, honey?” Danny’s mom asked as she came into the room and wrapped an arm around Danny. “Are you alright? You’ve never passed out like that.”

“I’m fine, I was just tired. I’m all good now.”

“Did you take your binder off?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Did you do your homework?”

“I was working on it when Jazz called me down.”

“Alright, let me know if you need help with anything.”

“I know, Mom.”

She ruffled his hair then went over to keep his dad from taking all the meatballs.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Danny glared at nothing in particular as his friends yelled to their respective crowds from atop their respective stages.

I’d say kill me now, but it’s too late for that.

He considered calling his mom to see if she’d let him stay home. Maybe he could say he felt like he was going to pass out again.

Sam was to his right, standing atop a school bus surrounded by people waving signs with various pro-vegan and vegetarian sayings scrawled across them. Tucker was to his left, standing atop a popup stage with women dressed like sausage links while a crowd of people wondered about barbeque stands and food trucks.

Eventually, the two noticed him and rushed over.

“You guys put together two protests in one night?” he said, looking between them.

“Meat-eaters, Danny. Always ready to fight. And our high-protein diets give us the energy we need to do it quickly.”

“Vegans are always ready to protest. And because we don't have to waste time cooking our food, we can move even faster.”

“Don't you guys think this is a little extreme?”

“No choice, buddy. You're either with me!”

“Or you're against him!”

Danny ducked his head as they both shouted, “So whose side are you on?”

Suddenly the wind picked up in the schoolyard and laughter echoed around them as Danny’s ghost sense went off. Meat started flying away from the stands and trucks, swirling together into the largest meat monster yet.

“It's lunchtime!” the ghost shouted as both crowds started fleeing.

“Meat! Why have you betrayed me?” Tucker wailed.

Sam looked like she was going to say something so Danny grabbed them both and dragged them over to a tree. “That’s it! This is the last time you two are having this argument, got it?”

They opened their mouths.

“No! I don’t care if you don’t like meat or you only like meat! You’re both going to lay off each other! You don’t have to like each other's diets, you just have to keep your mouths shut and ignore it! You guys are my best friends, but I can not do this anymore! Please!”

They stared at him, shocked, as he broke down slightly at the end before slowly nodding.

“Okay, Danny.”

“Yeah, Dude. We didn’t… mean to upset you.”

“We’re sorry.”

“Really sorry.”

“Great. Wonderful.” He glanced around to be sure no one was paying attention. “Then it's time to make up. Now!”

They wrapped their arms around each other with him in the middle to hide the flash from his transformation and he turned invisible as they let go, shooting into the air.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Jazz scowled at the sky as the net she was in was dragged across the ground. Why was she cursed with a family like hers? All she wanted was to finish school, get a degree in psychology, and have a normal life. Was that too much to ask for?

“And the Fenton Grappler is working like a charm!” she heard her father say as she got closer.

“I don't understand. If Jazz is a ghost, why hasn’t she phased through the net?” her mother asked.

Jazz growled as the net came to a stop and stood up. As she pulled the net off, she shouted, “Because I am not a ghost! You've ambushed me, suffocated me with smoke, and worse, your stupid invention got Danny electrocuted! What do you have to say for yourselves?”

Her father held an open thermos in her face. “Eat hot Fenton Thermos, ghost gal!”

A few sparks popped out, but nothing more happened.

Jazz glared at her parents and her father frowned down at the thing. He gave it a shake and hummed. “Darn thing still doesn't work!”

Jazz crossed her arms.

Her father looked up at her and after a moment he smiled. He looked down at the thermos sadly. “I, Jack Fenton, from this day forth, do hereby turn my back on ghosts.”

Jazz’s eyes widened and her mother set her hand on his shoulder.

He held up the thermos. “And this Thermos can't trap ghosts because ghosts don't exist.”

He threw it then turned away, bowing his head.

Jazz gaped as her mother wrapped an arm around his and rubbed his back. “Jack.”

“No, she’s right. What have we been doing with our life?”

She’s right? She’s right! Jazz threw her hands in the air and did a spin. FINALLY! She had gotten through to them! Now maybe -

“Thanks for the thermos! ”

“HA! Ghost kid! I was right!”

What?

Jazz turned back to her parents to see they were both excited.

“You were wrong! Ghosts exist!” her father sing-songed before laughing. “I never doubted for a second!”

What? No! They’d been so close! Jazz hissed in her head, tugging at her hair. What just happened? Are they really that delusional?

“Come on, Maddie! Let’s go get that ghost kid!”

Jazz watched them both run off, her father pulling out a machine from one of the many pockets on his belt.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

Danny’s eyes widened as the mini meat monsters the ghost had made to fight him reformed from the kick he’d used to destroy them. “Come on, can’t you cocktail weenies just stay down so this can be over?”

The rings passed over him to return him to human and Danny flinched.

The monsters smirked and grabbed him, flying into the air. Once they were high over the school, the ones holding his arms let go, letting him swing upside down.

He yelped and tried to grab at them to right himself, but they floated out of reach.

Suddenly something smacked his face and he grabbed it on instinct. He held it out and smiled. The Fenton Thermos! Finally, a way he could get the ghost back to the portal! But how to get it to work?

His eyes widened as he felt the grips on his legs loosened and looked up to see the monsters grinning.

They let go.

Danny looked down to see the ground fast approaching. “Change back! CHANGE BACK!”

His energy flared back up and the rings passed over him.

He cheered and turned intangible. He shot his parents a smile as he fell through the ground in front of them. “Thanks for the thermos!”

He twisted under the ground and came up on the other side of the school where the ghost -- the Lunch Lady? -- waited. As he did, an idea occurred to him.

She glared at the thermos. “NO! Soup's not on today's menu!”

“I'm changing the menu, permanently!” he grabbed the lid of the thermos and whispered, “Please work.”

He aimed the thermos at her and closed his eyes. He pushed his energy into the thermos, focusing it towards the thermos’s battery. Maybe a ghost trap needed ghostly energy to function? He felt his energy sink into the device and get drawn in as the thermos hummed to life in his hands. A blast of blue light shot at the Lunch Lady and drew her in like a tractor beam.

“No!” she screamed, trying to break free, but she soon disappeared inside.

Danny sighed with relief as he lost his hold on his ghost form. He felt drained, but closed the thermos with a smile. He went over to where Same and Tucker were hiding underneath decorations from Tucker’s half of the protest and helped them up.

“What happened? Where's the ghost?” Sam asked.

He held up the thermos. “My parents have their moments.”

Some beeping sounded and the three turned to see Danny’s parents running up.

“Ghost directly ahead.”

Danny flinched and hid the thermos behind his back.

“You would have to be some sort of moron to not notice the ghost directly ahead,” the Fenton Finder announced as they stopped in front of Danny.

His parents looked up at him and he gave them an awkward smile. He pointed over his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Dad. You just missed him.”

“We got a runner!” his dad cheered and they took off.

Which allowed him to see Jazz glaring him down with crossed arms.

“Uh -”

“What did I say about encouraging them?”

“But -”

“Now they're back to square one!”

“Jazz!” Danny called, but his sister ignored him as she marched off.

“So, you're not gonna tell them?” Tucker asked, watching Danny’s parents disappear down the street.

Danny watched Jazz for a moment longer then turned to his friends. “Nah. I think I might've finally figured out what these powers are for. They make me able to help and protect people. To do some good.”

“They make you a hero,” Sam said.

“Well, with great pow-”

Danny threw a sausage at the tech geek.

All three of their phones went off and they pulled them out.

“School’s canceled for the next few days,” Sam said.

“Apparently people think there was a gas leak,” Tucker snorted. “One that’s giving people hallucinations.”

“Those were some painful hallucinations,” Danny joked, rubbing his shoulder.

“So we’ve got a few free days until they get this cleaned up and realize there isn’t any gas. You know what that means?”

“Movies, sleepovers, and Nasty Burger?” Danny suggested.

“No homework!” Tucker cheered.

The boys high-fived and the three set off.

“Do you guys want to stop by the mall before heading to one of our places?” Tucker asked. “We can look for something to wear to Spring Formal.”

“Why? It’s not like any of us are going,” Sam snorted.

“You don’t know that yet,” Danny objected. “We might get dates.”

Sam stared at him for a moment then shrugged. “Fine, whatever. If you two want to waste our time looking at clothes far be it for me to stop you.”

Danny’s nose scrunched up while Tucker cheered.

“I’m thinking green.”

“Maybe think again,” Sam snorted.

“What about you then?”

She shook her head. “I’m not going so I don’t need one.”

Danny frowned. “If you don’t want to go…”

She shrugged. “Who’s going to take pictures of you guys trying on horrible suits if you go on your own? That’d be a wasted blackmail opportunity.”

They both glared at her.

~~~~~~~~~~B~~~~~0~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m home,” Danny called as he shut and locked the door.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mom said. She stepped out of the kitchen with a spatula in hand. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

He froze. “You, uh, made dinner?”

“Jazz said she was going to be late so I thought I’d take care of dinner for her. How was shopping?”

“Okay, I guess. Tucker found a suit he liked, but none of them really fit me right.”

She nodded and came over to kiss the top of his head. “We’ll take you to the tailor in a few days. What about Sam?”

“I thought I saw her eyeing this black and purple dress in the window of Edgy On Purpose, but she says she’s not going so she’s not getting a dress.”

“That’s a shame.”

He shrugged.

“You ate lunch, right?”

“Yes, Mom,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We got Nasty Burger on the way to Tucker’s.”

“That’s good. I meant to call after we got your message about school, but we lost the ghost kid and your father wanted to come back and try and boost the power of the Fenton Finder.”

“It’s fine.” He considered something as he adjusted his backpack, the thermos inside bumping against his back. “Hey, Mom, I was wondering… You know how you infuse your inventions with ectoplasm? Have you ever considered, you know, powering them with ectoplasm too?”

She laughed and ruffled his hair. “Of course, honey, but the amount of condensed ectoplasm we’d need…” she trailed off, her eyes widening. “Though, with the portal now active, it would be easier to collect pure ectoplasm. Maybe… Jack! JACK!”

Danny chuckled as his mom ran off, muttering calculations and yelling for his dad. He stepped into the kitchen and froze.

A small army of cooked shrimp glared at him.

“MOM! DINNER CAME ALIVE AGAIN!”

#danny phantom #mystery meat #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #living phantom

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