#and I sat in the big recliner and yelled at the TV when the kid is on the yellow raft | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

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Homeward Bound or Meeting The Family

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @stupidbluegirl @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst

This Passage contains potentially: swearing, violence, blood, angst, whump, fluff and smutty content.

Summary: Rod pushes forward the flight back to Kirby's homeland by a day and meets her parents, her Mam takes an instant liking to him, her Da not so much.

Kirby's POV:

Rod shook me awake early in the morning of the Twenty-Seventh.

"Kirbs, we gotta pack."

"No we don't the flight back ain't 'till tomorrow."

"I called the airport, they let me push the trip forward by a day."

I shot up, giving him a worried look, "You pushed the flight forward to today?"

"Yeah."

I rushed to pack everything I had into my bags, mumbling incoherently under my breath.

"When do we leave?"

Rod picked up my suitcase, walking to the door, "In about half an hour."

I threw my gym bag over my shoulder and rushed to get into the D200, waiting for Roddy to check us out of the hotel and join me.

The flight back was uneventful and we got a taxi to my parent's home, with me ringing the doorbell and waiting for the door to open, hearing my parents muffled voices from inside.

"Ya didn't order anything, Heaven?"

"No, Eric. I'll go see who it is."

I shot Rod a reassuring look and waited for my Mam to open the door.

The door swung open.

"fy mhlentyn melys." She put her hands up to cover her mouth.

"Hi Mammy." I dropped my bags and hugged her.

"Come in, come in." She guided us into the living room, my Da on the recliner chair next to the sofa in front of the TV, "We weren't expectin' ya back today. How long are ya staying?"

"About three weeks, ma'am." Rod explained.

"'three weeks'?" I whispered, he nodded in return.

My Da looked up and immediately got up to hug me, "Aw, my baby has come home. Who's your friend?"

"Well, Mam, Da, this is Roddy Piper. He's a co-worker and a close friend." I sheepishly explained.

"I'm ya daughter's boyfriend." He butted in.

"Oh, Really, Is that so?" My Da started, having decided to quiz Roddy, "If you're her boyfriend, what's her favourite food?"

"Da, question him later, please."

"Alright, you're off the hook for now, boyo."

"If you're home for the next week then you can come with us on Sunday to the family get together."

"Which is on Sunday because you expected me back tomorrow?"

"Aye. Your new man can come with us if he likes."

I shot my Mam my best look of 'shuddup Mam you're embarrassing me'.

"I'd love to join you and meet more of your beautiful daughter's family."

We sat on the sofa, with me between Rod and my Da in his recliner chair, my Mam stayed on her feet and the straggler, my old cat came striding into the room and jumped up onto my lap, quickly curling up and letting me pet him.

"Do any of ya want a coffee, or tea?"

"A coffee would be nice." my Da mumbled, focusing again on the TV.

"Yes, a coffee please, Mam."

"A, uh, a cup of tea please, Missus Trevor."

"Ya got yourself a polite one there, Kirby."

"Mam." I chided her as she walked out of the room.

"Who's ya little buddy?"

"This, Rod, is 'The Straggler', he's my cat, and he's a cute little fat blob of a ginger fluffball. Sometimes I think I'm the reason he's fat, other times I think it's him sneaking out at night and eating things he shouldn't, like grass."

"So, his name's 'The Straggler'?"

"No, his actual name is 'Tiger' but we call him 'Fat Man' or 'The Straggler'."

"So, where do we put our bags?"

I lifted the straggler off my lap and got up, placing him back on my seat, he quickly curled up again, happy to be in a place that I had been in seconds before, "Come on, I'll show ya." I grabbed my bags and led Roddy to my bedroom upstairs, putting down my gym bag and opening the door as far as it would go.

My bedroom isn't the biggest but it's big enough to comfortably fit myself and at least one other person. The wall facing the door was covered by a big gothic graveyard tapestry, my sofa bed in front of it, large enough to fit two people or one giant.

The wall to the right was covered by posters of varying designs and sizes, all being rather dark or darkly comedic in nature. In front of that was my desk, completely covered with small trinkets and tiny states as well as a small radio.

Next to that was a bedside cabinet with a makeup caddy on top and my Mam had seemingly gone out to a local shop, buying some fudge and chocolate which she had placed on the cabinet-top.

The wall to the left had a window and a radiator underneath, the curtains, a deep red tartan, were parted, allowing the somewhat bright light of the afternoon into the room.

We walked in and Rod sat down on the bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress and letting out a deep sigh. I walked around to the chest of drawers behind the door and placed my bags on top of it.

"So, your parents aren't as tall as I'd thought they'd be?"

"My Da's five-foot-nine, my Mam's five-foot-four. I have gigantism."

"I know that, but, I just, I guess I wasn't expecting them to be so," He seemed to be fumbling with his words, unsure of how to explain himself, he huffed and then continued, "I wasn't expecting them to be so nice."

"Well, they were kinda forced to be both protective and kind as I grew up. Kind to others who want to be in my life while protecting me from a potentially very harsh world."

"'Cause you're a giant."

"Yeah."

"How old are your parents?"

"My Da's fifty-nine and my mam is sixty."

"They look a lot fucking younger."

"Roderick."

"Kirby, coffee!" My Mam yelled up from downstairs, "You're Uncle David's here!"

"Oh wow, didn't hear my Da call him."

"You expected to hear a phone call from up here?"

"No, they live down the street. Trust me if my family wanted to, we could fill a small town."

"Big family."

"Big but loving family, mostly."

We walked downstairs, getting our drinks from the kitchen, as per the usual my Mam had put them in 'relevant' graphic mugs, mine reading 'Head in the clouds. Feet on the ground.' and Roddy's reading 'Scots know best'. We walked into the living room and Rod got a look at my Uncle David.

A Chubby man with a darker tan than my Da but only slightly shorter despite being older than my Da, as if that has any holding in height.

"Well now, who's this bright young spark hanging out with our Kirby?"

"Uncle David, this is Roddy Piper. Rod, this is my Uncle David."

"Hello, Sir, nice to meet ya."

Hours passed by like minutes just talking and laughing, when we noticed it getting darker, we said our goodbyes and then the conversation over dinner started.

"Take-out or are we cooking?" My Da quizzed

"Well, what've we got in the fridge?" I inquired, quizzing him back

"Enough for a fry up."

"Then I'll make us all a fry up."

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah, unless you're dead-set on having take-out."

"Well if we go down now, we can get a big pizza that'll last today and tomorrow and we won't have to cook."

"Good point, Da. Let's go then."

My Da quickly put his boots on and we headed down the street, bought a big square 32" pizza, walking home with a smaller box of garlic bread slices atop the massive pizza box. We ate and finished our drinks before going to bed for the night, my parents in their room, the straggler in a bucket on the landing and Rod sleeping next to me, or at least we should have been sleeping.

"Kirby?"

"Yes, Rod."

"I love ya, ya know that, right?"

"Yes, I love you too, what's wrong?"

"Part of me wants to be part of your family and another part of me wants to say it's somehow all a lie."

"Well, why do you feel that way?"

"I guess, ugh, no I can't talk about it. But, I've got to say this, just to make sure you understand me. I left home when I was thirteen because I hated how my parents treated me and I needed to get out of that situation. I think I'm just expecting your family to be the same deep down."

"Rod, I love you, I truly do, but, my parents are the way they seem, they're nice but we do get angry, me and my Da have had so many shouting matches I can't count how many times I wanted to run away when I was growing up, but we moved past it. We grew and changed because we knew how badly it would screw the three of us up. My Da's easily angered, my Mam is easily upset, I'm easily anxious."

"Am I going to be stared at on Sunday, baby?"

"Probably. But then again, no one's really used to me having a partner because they never met Erik, and he was never my boy-"

Rod cut me off with a rough kiss, quickly silencing me.

"I thought I said, don't bring him up."

"Roderick Piper. My parents are down the hall and I thought we agreed to only da that when we want to have kids."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we can't make out."

"You bring up a good point, come here."

I pulled him into a kiss, intertwining my fingers with his short locks, feeling his hands under my shirt, skin against skin. Somehow the only person I want near me at any point from now onwards in a any way is him, it's like I've forgotten the feeling of anyone else's touch against my skin. He makes me feel sane, and understood, like he is truly 'the one' but only time will tell, I guess.

When we awoke the next morning, Rod's forehead was lightly touching mine.

"Roddy," I whispered, "Roddy, honey."

"What is it babe?"

"Wake up hon."

"Five more minutes, you elven beauty."

I let Rod go back to sleep and got up, dressing myself in some casual clothes (black overalls and a black graphic T-shirt with a skull on it) and headed to the garage/gym space my dad had built.

I didn't realise that half an hour had passed until a knock at the door broke my concentration on my current workout.

"Come in, door's open."

"Hey Sweetheart."

"Hi, Rod, whaddya want?" I asked, breathless.

"Ya Mam sent me to talk to ya, said ya didn't get any breakfast, wanted me to give ya this," He chucked over a sealed bottle of chocolate milk, "Ya alright baby girl?"

"I'm fine, I just missed being able to just come in here and work out."

"So, this is how ya trained when ya were younger?"

"Yeah, I started wrestling when I was sixteen and before that I did kick-boxing, gymnastics, rugby, football, anything really," I took a swig of the milk, "One day, my uncle Tony, took me and my cousins to see a wrestling show, when I was about fourteen, and I decided that's what I wanted to do."

"So you focused on wrestling from that point onwards, ya never wanted to do anything different?"

I took another swig of the milk, letting out a vague 'mmn' before putting it down so I could answer him, "Wasn't until I was, twenty-five that I started thinking, about what the rest of my life holds for me, I would like a house of my own, and someone to share it with. Potentially a small but traditional wedding, a couple of kids, maybe a pet or tw-"

Rod pulled me into a rough but loving kiss, cupping my cheek with one hand and wrapping his opposite arm around my waist. A couple seconds later he pulled away, kissing my neck and whispering out the words, "Mo chridhe, I promise you I'll do whatever I can to give you everything you need in life. A family. A home. A traditional wedding. Kids. Anything, you name it and I will try my hardest to give it to you, and even if I don't succeed, you'll still have my love. Forever and ever, mo chridhe, I mean it."

"Roddy, I … I have no words good enough to describe how safe and happy, and sane you make me feel."

"I don't need words. Actions speak a million times louder."

"C'mere you," I pulled him into another kiss, intertwining my left hand with his hair and wrapping my right arm around his waist, feeling his arms around my waist slowly pull me as close as he could get me, letting the quiet calm of the morning slowly turn into a small amount of chaos as he pulled away with that devilish grin on his face. It's shocking how that grin can make me feel intrigued but scared at the same time.

END OF HOMEWARD BOUND or MEETING THE FAMILY

#wrestling fic #Lucifarians

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birdscreeches · 4 years

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The River | Aisha R.

Five days before Miles Santos dies, the sink in his bathroom breaks.

It started with a trickle of water dripping from the pipes underneath before growing into a spurting torrent that soaks his knees. This is what he gets, he muses, for not switching to water replication plumbing. He goes through his things looking for anything to fix it, but his condo is a crowded mess of wires and screens. Miles manages to find a roll of duct tape tangled within an extension cord.

With shaking hands, testaments to the sleepless nights of the past week, he wraps the leaking pipe with tape. Outside, his tablet continues playing the video he left it on. The voices drift into the room quietly, bouncing off the porcelain. Soft, pattering sounds of disaster.

“—the eye of typhoon Tomas was located, based on all available data, at 2,635 kilometers east of Southern Luzon. This is still outside of the Philippine Area of Responsibility. It has maximum sustained winds of 130 kilometers per hour and a gustiness of up to 160 kilometers per hour. It is moving west at 30 kilometers per hour. This typhoon is expected to enter PAR by Saturday—”

Water slips past his fingers and soaks his arms. It splashes against his face, sharp and cold. Miles coils tape around the pipe over and over, choking the water back in the place until finally, the pipes yield.

“—when we say super typhoon, it has to sustain a wind speed greater than 220 kilometers per hour. Typhoon Tomas is not a super typhoon, but it still has a long way to go above water before it reaches landfall and thus has the potential to, ah, acquire more strength.”

“So it’s possible for typhoon Tomas to become a super typhoon.”

“There is a possibility—”

Miles’ hands are soaked. His shirt is damp. His bathroom floor is a glorified puddle and he’s kneeling in it, an attempt for absolution. It’s a flimsy attempt at best, he thinks. He will never be clean again.

He stands up from the mess he’s made, sits down at one of his monitors. Still cold and rapidly becoming colder, he types and creates a monster.

Is it done?

yes

am i good now

No, you still have to install it.

We’ll also need a physical copy on a hard drive.

A team will come by next week to confiscate all your equipment.

It will all be compensated for, so you don’t have to worry.

okay

when will the payment come through

After we have the system and after you install it.

you’re sure

Yes.

I’ll text you again with details for the drop.

Stay updated.

Three days before Miles Santos dies, the traffic on slows to an unbearable crawl right on the bridge of Marcos Highway. Trapped from every angle, at mercy to the sheer power of unmoving vehicles, Miles has no choice but to see the river. He could keep his gaze straight, focus on every detail of the truck in front of him, but the river would snake its way into view. From his periphery into his mind, the river is there, demanding attention, until he can’t help but turn to look at it.

Already, the water is higher than usual. The surface ripples with turbulence as it rushes forth, crashing against the concrete bed that slopes down from the riverbanks. There was a time when those banks were nothing but the same earth and silt it had always been, but Miles couldn’t remember it. He was born only after they started constructing the improved channel. He grew up climbing over chain link fence with his friends, a flattened cardboard box in hand. On summer days, the river was docile. Dry. Just a trickle of water in a ditch too large. Miles and his friends would sit on the edge of the concrete slope, cardboard safely under him, and push off the edge, sliding down to the sound of laughter and a barangay tanod yelling at them to get the fuck outta here, stupid goddamn kids.

The pillars shake Miles out from his memory. On the edge of the concrete slopes, tall, grey magnetic pillars stuck out every few meters. Unactivated, they stood silently. Watchtowers over a vicious beast.

There is a barrage of beeping from behind him. Miles scrambles to step on the gas and drive forward.

The truck in front of him stops. Miles brakes. Alone in his car, he feels he can’t breathe. The river is there. A chill wells up deep in his stomach, branching out to his body. A restless energy.

Miles drums his fingers on the wheel and slowly, as the cars inch forward, rain begins to fall.

It’s hours before he gets to his mother’s house. The drive seemed like it wanted to drain the entire day away before he could live it. The house, fittingly enough, was gray and drab. The plants in the garden were alive, but slumped in lacking care. The paint of the gate was peeling, showing off the hard metal underneath. His mother’s house looks like as if all the days had drained away years ago.

His mother is much the same.

The mother he grew up with was sharp and nagging. Always scolding him for every mess and mistake, pushing him to be better, yet never showing him anything more than an absent nod for his achievements, too busy with cooking for the small carinderia she ran on her own. Now, too old to work, she sat in a house Miles got for her the moment he had enough money to, out and away from Tumana and into the quieter neighborhoods of Antipolo. Her edge had been weathered down by time into something weaker, but no less biting. Her memory was fuzzy at the edges, always calling Miles by the wrong name, or forgetting the date today, or forgetting that she had forgotten in the first place.

Miles came over every other week to have lunch with her, whether she liked it or not. Today’s lunch had passed in the same old questions followed by the same old silences.

He helps his mother from the dining table back to the living room. She reclines in her rocking chair, and massages her temple. “Matt---”

“Miles,” he reminds her.

“Miles, habang nandito ka pa, ayusin mo nga yung TV,” she says. “Ang choppy ng signal ‘tas ang hina pa nga ng volume, wala na akong marinig.”

“Ma, computer science yung alam ko, hindi engineering.”

She scoffs. “Sana nag-doktor ka na lang.”

Miles doesn’t say anything. He simply stands to fix the TV if only to escape another endless circle of conversation.

He switches the TV on and watches the glitching static distort the face of a variety show host. The host’s grating laughter distorts through the speakers, an awful, terrible sound. As he unplugs and plugs different wires with barely trembling hands, the noise flits in and out. Miles manages to get the volume up higher again, like his mother wants it, and his own voice finds its own sound.

“Ma, medyo busy ako for the next few weeks, ha.” With a hard thwack to the back of the TV, the screen phases into clarity. He looks at it instead of his mother, continuing. “I won’t be able to come by for a while, but, uh, I got a really big bonus at work, and I’ll forward the money to you, okay?”

“Ha?” His mother says, squinting past him to look towards the TV. “Anong sabi mo?”

“Wala,” Miles shakes his head. “Wala, ma.”

11pm

MRMC Station 3, Tumana.

Don’t be late.

On the day Miles Santos dies, he goes back to where he used to live. He parks nearby, and walks through the rest. It was a part of the slums that had been demolished to make way for the large, hulking powerline that fed into the electric pillars of the river. Where once there was a cluster fragile houses Miles would once run and duck through, there was now just flat rubble and the metal reinforced wires trailing through, out and away.

There are a few kids kicking a ball around, scuffing dirt and laughing. One of them kicks the ball too far, rolling towards Miles’ feet, and Miles forces a smile as he bends down to toss it back to them. He tries to forget he ever saw them, but when you see one person, the rest keep coming in. A fruit vendor passes, pushing his rickety cart filled with cool pineapple. Women with streaks in their hair snickering and gossiping. A stray dog following at the heels of a young girl.

Miles used to live here, and the ache of seeing the place again after working so hard to leave it thrums through every inch of his body.

All he wanted was better.

And look where that got him.

He arrives at the drop location hours early. In his car with his silence, he sits and watches the rain engulf him.

To his left, he can see the crowded Tumana slums barely illuminated by the dusk. It was home once, when he was smaller. Houses here were small and grimy and flimsy ribcages people would live in. The streets and pathways would get narrower and narrower the deeper you went ,the ground a perpetual a slog of sticky earth and discarded garbage. The canals that ran through the barangay were as sleek and high tech as the main river, with smaller but no less advanced magnetic pillars, but all the innovation had stopped there. The ribcage houses were finally safe from the river, but weren’t safe from everything else.

To his right, the river slithers into his periphery, demanding attention. Next to one of the pillars sticking out of the concrete banks, there is a small building, STATION 3 emblazoned on the side in block letters, punctuated by frantic sprays of vandalism. The station was just one of many dotted along the length of the river. Manual control systems for the improved channels. Nobody’s used them in years.

Dusk bleeds into night. One by one, windows of the slums light up. Old school fluorescent lights mixing with the newer EMLED lights.

Miles hears it before he sees it. The undeniable thrum of energy. Miles swears he feels the earth shift when. It does, in a sense. The magnetic pillars were a revolutionary piece of technology, but it took energy to power. More energy than can be taken without a price.

The grey pillars light up, a soft, illuminated blue streaking across the center of each one. The top of the pillar beams out an arch of light connecting to another pillar on the opposite bank. Like dominoes, all the pillars buzz to life, creating an endless, unbreachable tunnel of energy. Rain that falls onto the magnetic field slides off, slipping into canals at the side that filter back into the river. Every canal and ditch is encased in a magnetic tunnel, pulsing through the roads, veins and arteries of rainwater filtering into the river. All the rain coming from the mountains, from the city gutters, from the sky mercilessly pounding rain into the earth.

The Tumana slums tremble into darkness, all the power sucked into the cages keeping the water captive.

Miles doesn’t do anything but breathe. The restless energy is gone, replaced instead by a deep, stinging chill that constantly scraping at the walls of who he is. He sits there, unmoving, and lets the rain and the night pass him by.

He watches the magnetic field. Hours pass. The water rises. Rises. Rises past the riverbank, the magnetic field the only thing holding the water back from overflowing and drowning the slums just meters away.

Up ahead on the road, a nondescript red car parks in front of him, the headlights still on, shining directly into Miles’ eyes. The lights blink at him. Get in. He grabs an umbrella from the backseat and exits the safety of his car, brisk walks through the torrential downpour, hurriedly opens the door of the other car, and clambers into the passenger seat.

Four is sitting behind the wheel, phone in hand, idly swiping. He looks just about as pristine as Miles knew his own self was the opposite. Four looks up, eyes scanning over Miles’ soaked frame, bored and amused at the same time

“You really had to bring all the water with you, no?” Four asks, looking at Miles with that unimpressed gaze he always has.

“There’s a super typhoon,” Miles grits his teeth. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

“Touchy. I’m just joking,” he rolls his eyes then holds a hand out. “Physical copy?”

Miles digs a small plastic ziplock bag from his pocket. Inside, a small USB stick. He hands it over to Four who doesn’t even spare it a glance, stowing it in a side compartment without looking up from his phone.

“No other copies exist?”

“None.”

“Alright then, we’re nearly done,” Four says, tapping on his phone. “I’ve queued the payment transfer to go through once news sites start blasting the breaking news headlines. You get back into your car and follow me out and—”

“I’m not going.”

Four’s typing stops. He looks up and meets Miles’ gaze. Miles can’t find any shock in Four’s eyes. If anything, the only thing that’s there is a twinkle of intrigue.

“You’re not?”

“I’m—” Miles tries to find his words, all feeling awkward and clunky. “I’m staying here. I’ll deploy the program here.”

There’s a beat of silence. The rain outside is coming down so strong, the noise blurs into a static. Everything and nothing. A held breath.

“Hm,” Four looks back to his phone. “That explains the payment thing. I wondered why the account wasn’t yours. Whose is it?”

“None of your business.”

Four actually laughs, and Miles thinks it looks like a snarl. “I guess you’re right. Do me a favor and wait til I’m out of the danger zone before you run the program, will you? The payment expires if any of my programs detect a sign of an untimely death.” Four swipes his finger across his phone and Miles hears his own phone ping. “This car’s details,” Four explains. “Watch over me while I drive.”

“Can I go now?” Miles says. He wants to get out of this car. He wants to never see Four again. He wants to never have met him in the first place.

“Sure,” Four smiles. A sneer trying to look kind. “This is good work you’re doing here. Remember that. Pleasure doing business with you, Santos.”

Miles gets out of the door and slams the door shut. Under his umbrella, he watches Four back the car up, turn, and drive away.

He pulls out his phone and taps on Four’s car details. Miles watches his GPS show Four’s car drive further and further away. His trip is made short and smooth by clear roads. Too late and too rainy for anybody to drive out. People are in their homes, sleeping soundly.

When Four passes the threshold into Quezon City, Miles closes his eyes. When he opens them, he can feel every drop of water on his skin like a knife pressing into him. In his hand, his phone feels like a grenade.

He opens his program. The pin is pulled.

Miles had created a lockpick. A universal lockpick. A program that could adapt to any system and open any doors. Untraceable, quick, and efficient. Creating the program was a long and delicate science of knowing where to make it prod and where to make it push. A balance between toeing the line and destroying it. He understands more than anybody the meaning of a breaking point and what happens when that point is pressed.

It’s child’s play now. He runs his program remotely from his phone into the servers of the Station 3. From there, he watches it frolick along tens of security measures and failsafes. He watches it weave past all of them. He watches it mangle the system to pieces.

Miles can’t watch it finish, his shaking hands dropping his phone into the muddy ground. Even if the water shorted his phone out, it was too late. His body wasn’t cold anymore. His body was an absence of everything. He’d been hollowed out and then deleted. It was over.

Miles doesn’t look up from his phone. He doesn’t have to. Through the reflection on his screen, he sees the lights of Marikina City come alive. The streetlamps, the homes, the stores. Power surges through all the lines, unbidden, rattling appliances awake, blowing out too-old lightbulbs, taking every home hostage. The night glimmers out of the darkness in chunks until the city is thrumming with electricity.

Behind him, the magnetic field flickers. Once, twice—

#fiction

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jaerie · 5 years

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no one tagged me in anything, i’ve just been writing up a storm and no one is around to talk to me about it!! so i’m slapping this snip onto my dash.

Things started to fall into a routine and sometimes they even texted throughout the day about things not related to the pregnancy. It was easy to have a conversation with the omega and it was nice to feel like he had a new friend even if the circumstances were strange.

They had yet to talk on the phone which was why Louis was sent straight into a panic when his phone started ringing at three in the morning, startling him out of a deep sleep. His stomach dropped when he saw Harry’s number and answered it even though his voice was rough and he could barely form words.

“I know it’s the middle of the night but I’m so miserable,” Harry groaned over the line, “The air conditioning went out in my building and they can’t get anyone here until Thursday. I’ve been up all night sweating and puking and I just want to be cold and not sticky and asleep.”

Louis took a second to calm his racing heart from all the worst case scenarios his mind had conjured up before he answered.

“Did you try bagging up some ice or taking a cool shower?”

“That’s so much work,” Harry whined, “I know I shouldn’t ask, but can I please come over? Even just for a couple hours? I’ll crash on the couch and I promise I won’t bother you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have several guest rooms,” Louis laughed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “You okay to drive or should I send over a car?”

“You’re a saint,” Harry moaned like he’d just come and it went straight to Louis’ dick. He barely filtered out his own moan in his groggy state. “I’ve been wide awake all night so I’m fine to drive. I’ll be over in twenty.”

Louis forced himself out of bed and down the hall to make sure one of the guest rooms was made up. He added a few extra towels to the bathroom and stacked some extra pillows and blankets on the dresser. He also knocked the temperature down a few degrees on the thermostat.

After disengaging the alarm for Harry’s arrival, he wrapped himself up in his fuzzy bathrobe and dozed off in his recliner while he waited.

He awoke to a clatter and a few whispered swears followed by the sound of footsteps across the wood flooring in the foyer. He rose and found Harry trying to tiptoe into the dim house with his arms full of things like he was moving in for a month. Louis rushed to his side to help.

“Didn’t know you were such a light traveler,” Louis joked as he took the large pillow thing from Harry’s arms before taking the bag off his shoulder.

Harry pouted and hugged his normal pillow to his chest. “Shut up, I’m cranky and I like being comfortable when I sleep.”

Harry was already well into the second trimester of the pregnancy and sported a healthy basketball beneath his shirt. It made juggling so many things more difficult for him and Louis would have laughed under different circumstances. His awkwardness was adorable.

“It’s okay, I’m just joking. I’ll help you get your stuff upstairs.”

Harry still looked sweaty and disheveled, exhaustion showing on his face and in the way his body wilted into a slouch when Louis took everything from his arms. He was always so put together when Louis saw him, even when he was in heat he had looked perfectly tousled while Louis had looked a mess. Louis knew he must have really been uncomfortable to rush over in such a state.

“Thank you for letting me come over. I felt like I was going to drown in sweat or die of a heat stroke.”

“It’s not a problem, really. It’s just me in this big house. I’m glad you called.”

Louis led him to the closest guest room and made him sit on the edge of the bed while he set up the pillows and moved his bags so he wouldn’t have to bend over to reach them. Louis also plugged in his phone charger so he wouldn’t have to crawl to reach the plug.

Harry’s eyes were already drooping when Louis stood up, his hands moving over his belly in soothing patterns on top of his shirt.

“Bathroom is right there and you know where my room is. Just knock or yell if you need anything else. Make yourself at home. Thermostat is on the wall if you’re too hot or too cold.”

“It’s about perfect in here, thanks.”

Harry gave him a sleepy smile and then started to make himself comfortable. Louis wanted to stay just to watch how he lovingly cradled his belly as he moved and how he rearranged himself with all of those pillows, but he knew that was weird. Instead he backed out of the room with a small goodnight and shut the door behind him.

He turned to head back to his room but then stopped short. The doorway across the hall was open and Louis wondered if he should pull it closed. He bit his lip as he stepped in, moonlight through the large windows making it just bright enough to see.

The little cans of paint were still arranged on the floor from where he had left them a day or two before, ruined brushes he’d forgotten to wash resting across the top. It was going to be the baby’s room and Louis had been spending a lot of his time trying to paint a mural that wrapped around the room. Art had never been a talent of his, but he could follow a stencil if he focused hard enough. He hadn’t been confident at first and he was glad he hadn’t given up. It was starting to look like an actual nursery.

He imagined stepping into the room just like this to check on his sleeping son or daughter, watching them just long enough to make sure they were peaceful and breathing. It took his own breath away to realize that those moments were so close to becoming reality. That baby was growing just a room away and Louis felt like his chest might explode from the love he already had for the little avocado.

He sat down in the rocking chair that had been in his house growing up and was glad he’d had it shipped with the rest of his things when he’d officially moved. It was perfect for his body and still rocked nicely on the carpeted floor. It wasn’t hard for him to imagine rocking his baby right there while he fed them a bottle or attempted to soothe them back to sleep.

The nursery was something he wasn’t sure he should share with Harry. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he just wasn’t sure how Harry would feel about it. Unlike his other surrogacy experiences, the child he’d be turning over to Louis was technically his own as well. If he’d cried over seeing one of the kids on tv, would it be difficult to see the nursery his baby would be living in without him? Was it insensitive to put that in front of him?

In the end, Louis decided it would be best to keep the door closed while Harry was visiting and pulled it closed when he finally grew tired enough to drag himself back to bed.

#my fics #this was a straight up kink fic #and now its a kink fic with feelings

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elshopper · 4 years

Text

Cure for a Blue Christmas

Wow, y’all, it is a Christmas miracle. For I have written something. I hope you enjoy.

WC: 2.9k

Ao3 link coming soon.

December 25, 1986 Somewhere North of Bloomington, Indiana

“By the way, I loved the way you told dad to shove it,” Nancy said, glancing over to her brother in the passenger seat.

Mike was right in the middle of fiddling with the radio dial now that Hawkins Best Hits was out of range. Every station was either annoying Christmas music or old standards or weird nighttime talk shows. He sighed.

“Yeah, I’m going to get a lot of shit for that one when we get home,” he said, finally settling on whatever station that was currently playing that one Christmas song about the kids in Africa that he decided he could tolerate.

“He was asking for it,” Nancy replied, both her hands steady on the wheel. “He was just being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole.”

It had been a rather frustrating Christmas in the Wheeler household. Their mother had been tapped to host the whole family this year, and she was at her wits end this morning - pulling endless breakfast casseroles out of the oven only to be immediately devoured and criticized by extended family members.

Mike had to share his room with his cousins, Richie and Timothy, who were too annoying to bunk in the basement with the older cousins. Nancy got a room to herself, and Mike had carefully maneuver around the bodies sleeping on his floor if he wanted to get to the bathroom.

Holly was being particularly bratty, too. Mike’s grandmother was being especially critical of his mom, following her around the house and making comments about the table setting this and the Christmas ham that. His dad was flipping through classical holiday films (ironically about the value of family and unconditional love) while making exactly zero contributions from his recliner in the den.

To top it all off, due to the Wheeler family Christmas nightmare occurring under their roof, Mike and Nancy had to back out of their promises to drive down to Allendale to visit the Byers on Christmas Day because “we have to entertain the family, Michael,” which was just stupid and hypocritical of him to even say on account of the fact that Mr. Wheeler had been doing zilch the entire shitty three days.

When the family finally left that afternoon, Mike and Nancy made a point to help their mother start up loads of laundry and clean up in the kitchen before asking very very nicely if they could make the trip anyway.

“The family’s gone now, and we could give you some time to just relax…” Nancy pitched, her fingers drumming on their kitchen island. “I promise we’ll be back tomorrow morning. First thing.”

Mrs. Wheeler squinted her eyes and hummed to herself, saying something about being careful driving in the dark before she shouted into the den for Mr. Wheeler’s approval.

“No, Karen, tell the kids they can stay right here,” he yelled back. “Need to have a little family time.”

Nancy, who had been doing most of the negotiating with their mother, rolled her eyes, but something about his dad’s whole schtick of being a lazy ass-wipe made something that had been building and building in Mike finally snap.

“Family time? You’re shitting me, family time?!” Mike raised his voice a little and headed into the den.

“Language, Michael...”

“All you’ve done is sit on your ass while we’ve been absolutely drowning in family time for three whole days!”

His dad’s eyes finally - for the first time in probably days - moved over from the TV to look at his kids standing defiantly in the doorframe. Mike went on.

“So if you don’t mind, Nancy and I are going to go for the night to go see our friends - who we never get to spend any time with, by the way!”

He crossed the room for the coat rack by the door and threw his coat on. To his surprise, Nancy followed and grabbed the keys off the hook by the door.

“Michael, if you walk out that door, you’re grounded,” Ted retorted. “Same goes for you Nancy.”

“Great! I’m fine with that! Maybe then we’ll get that family time I’ve been hearing so much about!”

They were they had already thrown some overnight bags in the car, because with one slam of the front door for emphasis, Mike was finally on the way to see his girlfriend.

They decided to make their arrival a surprise, and the excitement of that prospect was slowly beginning to overshadow the seething anger towards his dad.

“I know Jonathan said he and Will were going to be at Lonnie’s today,” Nancy started, “but they’re coming back tonight. Maybe we’ll beat them home.”

“Yeah maybe,” Mike said. “I know El said she’s just staying in with Mrs. Byers. She sounded kind of bummed about it, though.”

“Well, maybe this will cheer everyone up,” Nancy said, before turning up the volume on the radio.

Allendale, Illinois

Now get this, it’s from London. “Mr. Gower cabled you need cash. Stop. My office instructed to advance you up to $25,000. Stop. Hee-haw and Merry Christmas. Sam Wainwright.”

El closed the door to the oven, and sauntered back over to the couch. Joyce was sitting in one corner, legs drawn up under a throw blanket, while she worked on sewing a button back on one of Jonathan’s old shirts so Will could wear it.

“Okay the cookies are in,” El said, but Joyce’s eyes stayed fixated on the television. They had been watching It’s a Wonderful Life on channel 5, and it was one of Joyce’s favorite holiday films. Despite the majority of the movie being… sort of depressing, El was glad she was here to spend time with Joyce who would otherwise be alone on the holiday.

They had spent the afternoon just like this - cleaning up around the house, finishing up mundane chores, and baking here and there. Even though she was fairly new at it, El actually wasn’t half bad at following the recipes in Joyce’s family cookbook. Often, she was learning, numbers made more sense to her than words.

Jonathan and Will had driven up to Indiana after opening morning presents to spend some “quality time” with their father and stepmother. Joyce had insisted (albeit, reluctantly) once she discovered they hadn’t gone to see them in over a year. El had never met him, but he didn’t sound all that pleasant when Will brought him up on occasion... kind of like he was inconvenienced by the fact that he had kids in the first place.

Kind of like a grade-A asshole, as Dustin would proudly put it.

She hadn’t even seen an old picture of him and Joyce anywhere in the old photo albums. She knew they had been married, but were now divorced, so it was just Joyce now. Taking care of her sons, and now the daughter that she never meant to have.

Last Christmas had been great - wonderful even - because it was her first time back in Hawkins since the big move a couple months prior. Despite absolutely dreading the cold, El loved the holiday season now that she got to be a part of it - all Mrs. Wheeler’s pies and nicely wrapped gifts and the smell of pine trees and mistletoe...

This year, the Byers clan had stayed behind. Mrs. Wheeler had to host the family for Christmas, and that apparently meant that Mike couldn’t even come visit - not even for a few hours.

He had sounded so bummed about it over the phone, but promised to send her present in the mail once the holiday rush ended. He even called her this morning to wish her a Merry Christmas, and tell her that the holiday didn’t feel right without her being home. It was nice of him, but it just made her feel more gloomy about the whole thing. It was a joyful time of year for most, but El couldn’t be with all of her favorite people.

On the TV, the Bailey household erupted in a spirited rendition of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing as all the townspeople showed up to give George their donations and Joyce’s eyes were getting a little misty.

Joyful all ye nations rise! Join the triumph of the skies!

“This part always makes me cry, every single time!” Joyce said, using the fabric of Jonathan’s shirt to dab at her eyes. “Oh, look at me.”

Hark! The herald angels sing…

“I like this movie too,” El said, reaching for a hand full of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. “It’s sweet.”

“You’ve seen this movie before?”

“Yes…” El started. “Two Christmases ago I think. But I didn’t really understand it then. Now it all makes more sense.”

She didn’t want to touch on a sore subject if Joyce didn’t want to talk about it - especially this time of year, so she didn’t go into detail about how Hopper had turned it on one snowy evening in December 1984 and cracked a beer open before telling her to pay attention because this was one of the greatest films of all time. She could practically hear him…

“...Now I used to sit on the couch with my old man and watch this movie every single Christmas.” Hopper said, “It’s about being thankful for what you’ve got and that you’re never alone in the world if you’re a good person… you know… cheesy stuff like that...”

It was in black and white and she didn’t know what all the yelling was about, but El liked it because Hopper seemed to. She thought George’s life was interesting and she thought his wife Mary was really pretty. She asked Hopper to find her a dress just like Mary’s to wear to the big dance she was invited to the following week and he had said “Jesus, kid, I don’t think they make ‘em like that anymore…”

A small smile crept across El’s face.

Good idea Ernie, a toast! To my big brother George. The richest man in town.

“Did Hop turn it on for you before he would go to the station?” Joyce asked.

“No, actually he sat down to watch with me.” El said, “He didn’t do a great job of explaining anything, but he wanted me to see it for some reason.”

“Well, everyone should see It’s a Wonderful Life. It’s one of the greatest films of all time!”

The crowd on the screen erupted in another joyful tune and Joyce started humming along.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of auld lang syne?

Then a note from Clarence the angel appeared on the screen, and it was El’s turn to feel tears pinch the back of her eyes.

“Remember, no man is a failure who has friends!” the note read in beautiful swooping cursive.

El had been trying to keep a smile on her face all day for Joyce, but she missed her friends so much she thought she might burst.

She and Will called them on the phone as often as they could, but of course it wasn’t the same. They knew they were missing the making of memories, and as hard as it was, El couldn’t help but feel jealous that everyone in Hawkins all still had each other.

She and Will would talk with Lucas who would tell them some outlandish stories about something Max got up to or Steve said or Mike did in school. Then, they would give Dustin a call for the real story. Max would complain to her about being ‘surrounded by idiots’ and fill her in on the most recent fight Mike picked with Lucas over something stupid and El would call him after just to check on him. Out of everyone, Mike probably took it the hardest with his best friend and his girlfriend both leaving town all at once.

She was glad she had Will sulk and feign happiness with sometimes. She could tell he felt the same as she did, that they were kind of incomplete without everyone. Jonathan was busy with work and college courses, and was planning to transfer to be closer to Nancy next year now that he’d saved up enough, so the reality of the move hadn’t hit him as hard because he had just a little more freedom.

“When you go through all that, I think the people you’re with end up being your family, like it or not,” Will said to her once. “I don’t feel like I can let anyone else in. It’s just us, you know? And most of our family is about a four hour drive away.”

To make matters worse, when Mike and Nancy cancelled, El’s teeny ounce of excitement about the holidays vanished.

It was just… lonely. And El knew Joyce was pretty lonely too. Joyce’s parents were originally from Allendale, but her extended family had all moved or passed away before El was ever around. She just moved her children back somewhere familiar where she was fairly sure there weren’t any secret government conspiracies at work beneath the surface. Since El hadn’t had the use of her powers in over a year, there wasn’t a lot to hide except for the past.

“I love this song,” Joyce said, humming along with the melody and snapping El back to the present.

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

The words sounded like absolute gibberish to El.

“What does ‘old hang sign’ mean anyway?” El asked.

“Auld Lang Syne,” Joyce replied. “It’s in another language - Scottish, maybe? I’m not sure exactly what it means, but you sing it on New Years Eve.”

“Why on New Years Eve?”

“Because it's a time to reflect on the past and look forward to the future… I guess it means that you’re thankful for everything you have and the people in your life and the experiences you’ve had so far, but you’re looking to the future for better things.”

El nodded.

“Kind of hard to look back and be thankful,” El muttered.

Look daddy. Teacher says, ‘Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.’

She felt Joyce turn on the couch to face her.

“Oh, honey, I’m thankful! If I didn’t have you, I’d be spending Christmas Eve alone,” she said as she wrapped one arm around El’s shoulders. “And the world would be a much sadder place.”

“Thanks,” El said, fiddling with the hem on her sweatshirt. “It’s hard though.”

“You’re right, but you have to try your hardest to see the good in life…”

Atta boy, Clarence!

Just then, the oven dinged that the cookies were ready, and El hopped up to grab them. She was setting the cookie sheet on the stove when she saw a pair of headlights pulling into the driveway.

“Looks like Jonathan and Will are home,” El said, pulling out the cooling sheet.

“Oh, good. Just in time for the next film.”

But just as El was putting the last of the cookies on the cooling sheet, she heard a frantic little knock at the door followed by a couple of dings on their doorbell. Startled, she almost dropped her spatula.

“Why on earth are they making all that noise?” Joyce asked as she stood up to turn down the ending credits and answer the door. “Surely Jonathan and Will don’t need any help carrying gifts to the house after an evening at Lonnie’s…”

When she opened the door, instead of hearing Jonathan or Will’s voice, she heard Mike’s.

“Mrs. Byers! Merry Christmas!”

“Mike! And Nancy! I thought you couldn’t make it!”

“We came anyway,” Nancy said from behind him. “Didn’t want to let the holiday pass without coming to see you.”

“Oh, I hope you didn’t upset your mother too much...”

El dropped the spatula - on purpose this time - and was over at the door in a matter of seconds. If there was any cure for a blue Christmas, it was the look on Mike’s beaming face when she rounded the corner, still wearing Joyce’s favorite holiday apron.

“I can’t believe you made it!”

El caught the bright smile on Nancy’s face as Mike met her with open arms.

“Merry Christmas, El,” Mike said, pulling back to hold her face in his hands. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Just as Joyce was about to move everyone indoors and out of the cold, Jonathan’s old station wagon pulled up, making their arrival some of the most perfect timing El had seen in a while.

“Nance? What are you doing here?”

The bags were brought in and the cookies were set on the coffee table. Will was congratulating Mike on standing up to his dad, Nancy was talking with Joyce about winters in New York, and El was all snuggled up on Mike’s right side, her cheek against his shoulder and everything seemed right with the world - at least for the moment.

Even through hard times and sad days, El was so happy she had lived through them. Without them, she couldn’t have moments like these where everything felt perfect. She knew everyone in the room would agree - the smiles and laughs and shining eyes were enough for her to feel completely and simply surrounded by such a warm, fuzzy feeling.

El lifted her head to place a kiss on Mike’s shoulder and he turned to look down at her, eyes all glassy and warm.

“What was that for?”

“Just because,” she said.

I’ll love you ‘til the day I die, she thought.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and yours!! Can y’all tell which movie I’ve been watching all week... I hope it doesn’t sound like the ramblings of a Christmas lunatic :) Love y’all, miss y’all everyday <3

Tagging some lovelies: @milesfairchild, @mikewheeler, @milevenhearteyes, @serendipitousrambles, @fatechica, @summer-in-hawkins, @milevens, @stevehharrington, @elhoppers, @dustinhendrsn, @lyrawills, @partwayhappy and @robinbuckely

#stranger things #stranger things fic #mileven #mileven fic #writing things #brandnewbabysantas #merry christmas to all!!!

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faveficarchive · 5 years

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Love and Death in a Trailer Park

Part 1 of Vivian Darkbloom’s White Trash Series

By Vivian Darkbloom

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: From the Academy of Bards: Life in a trailer park takes a on new meaning when a going-nowhere factory worker, Gabrielle, meets a dark and enigmatic firefighter Zina.

Gabrielle held the phone—the old beige one they stole from their mom—away from her ear in disbelief. The perky male voice on the line had asked for her, and when she said "Yup, I'm Gabrielle Hockenberry," the cheerful young man went on to explain that she was being asked to participate in the Jerry Springer Show, more specifically, the show tentatively entitled, "My Sister's Boyfriend Made Me Pregnant!" At which point she screamed, "No fuckin' way!" into the receiver and slammed it down.

She stomped through their apartment in search of Lila, who was on the recliner—the one that Uncle Pat gave him that had been sitting in his garage for two years—eating cold pizza and watching Geraldo. In fact, a half-eaten slice was balanced precariously on her swollen stomach.

Gabrielle snatched the remote out of her sister's limp, greasy grip and Geraldo's face, taut with concern, dwindled into darkness. "What'd ya do that for?" Lila bellowed, as if her sister had stabbed her.

"You know goddamn well, Lila! Some jerk from Jerry Springer just called me!"

Lila's wounded look metamorphosed into surprise and hope. "Yeah?"

"How could you, my own sister! I don't want our dirty laundry aired all over national TV!"

"But Gab," Lila whined, "it would be fun. They put you up in a hotel, you get to ride in a fuckin' limo—"

"Forget it, Lila! If you and Purdy want to embarrass yourselves, go right ahead! But I'm not gonna do it!"

"Come on, Gab—I promise you I'll go easy on you in the fight. After all, you're the wronged party, everyone'll be rooting for you."

The wronged party. Gabrielle clenched her teeth, remembering the night Lila and Purdy sat down with her and told her that they were "in love" and Lila was having his baby. After assaulting Purdy with an old copy of Cosmo, she promptly called up Effie, her best friend, and the two of them went down to the Saddle and got wasted. She had six Rolling Rocks, two pina coladas, and threw up in the bathroom.

Now Lila was five months pregnant. She'd grown accustomed to it all; in fact, when she got right down to it, she hardly missed Purdy at all. She actually saw the bastard even more so now than when they were dating—it seemed like he was over at the apartment constantly, fawning over Lila and the "demon spawn" (as Gabrielle secretly called it) inside her. Still, it all hurt. Being dumped, especially for your own sister, wasn't easy. Purdy had said mean things to her—she was cold, she was too wrapped up in her dreams of writing poetry and going back to school, they didn't have sex enough, blah blah blah....But she didn't blame Lila all that much—after all, Purdy was attractive, that's how he got the nickname, from the bullies in school who said he was "purdy as a flower." The name stuck, but as he grew even more handsome, it took on a favorable aspect.

Gabrielle put hands on hips and glared at her sister. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back, even if you weren't knocked up. I've been workin' out, ya know." With that, she stalked into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Once inside her sanctuary, Gabrielle flopped down on her bed and cried a little. To calm herself she clutched her stuffed sheep and stared at her old David Bowie poster. I need something in my life...I need love, I need to get outta here, I need to stop working in that freakin' factory...she chanted this over and over in her mind as the silvery gray of the diminishing day deepened into darkness. She'd had no idea how long she had been lying in bed when she heard the phone ring, and Lila's voice answering it. Then a shout: "GAB-RI-ELLE!!!"

She touched her face—her tears had dried, and she hoped that her eyes didn't look too puffy; she didn't want Lila to know she had been crying. She got up and went out into the living room. Lila stood, watching a rerun of Home Improvement, holding the phone. Her eyes didn't flicker from the screen as she thrust it at Gabrielle, who eyed it suspiciously. Lila did not break her gaze at the TV when she muttered, "It's Effie."

"Thank God it's not Jerry Springer." Gabrielle couldn't resist the jibe as she swiped the receiver from her sister.

"What's this about Jerry Springer?" Effie's voice crackled on the line.

"Nothin', Eff. What's up?"

"Hey, you gonna be there tonight?"

"Huh?" Gabrielle muttered. Then she remembered: Effie and her band, the Amazin' Amazons, were playing down at the Saddle Bar & Grill. "Oh, I guess Eff....although I'm not really in the mood."

"Don't worry. It'll be a short set. Pony hurt her arm at softball the other day, so she's not swingin' the drumsticks as good as usual. "

"Okay, I'll be there. What time you go on?"

"At ten. We'll be done by eleven." A pause. "You okay, honey?"

"Yeah...you know, just the usual bullshit," Gabrielle mumbled so that Lila would not hear. But Effie, of course, did hear her.

"Well, sounds like you need to get the hell out of there for a while. I wish you'd move in with us. We got plenty of room." Effie shared a big farmhouse with her son and her bandmates, Pony and Sally. They were frequently the talk of the town; everyone wondered what went on at "the Farmhouse." Rumors ran amok, of everything from crack houses and homosexual recruitment to orgies involving any number of species and genders. Gabrielle knew none of it was true.

"Come down early, we'll have a beer before the set," Effie said.

"Okay, Eff. I'll be there around nine. How's that?"

"Great! See ya then, honey. Bye." Gabrielle hung up the receiver and headed toward the bedroom. Idly she flipped through the blouses in her closet. Oh what the hell, she sighed, peeling off the old Guns and Roses t-shirt she was wearing, I'll wear what I always wear. She selected the green polo shirt (puke green, everyone said—nonetheless it was her favorite top) and went into the bathroom. She washed her face, dusted her armpits with a fresh layer of Dial deodorant, added a little dab of perfume, washed her face with Noxema, and donned her shirt. She was brushing her flame-colored hair when she noticed Lila leaning in the bathroom doorway. "Goin' out?" her sister asked, noncommittal.

"Yeah," Gabrielle replied with equal neutrality. "Effie's band is playin' down at the Saddle."

Lila scrunched her face with disapproval. "I still don't know about Effie, Gab."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "Lila, Effie is not a lezzie, okay? I mean, she had a kid!" Although Gabrielle knew that Effie was open to the possibility, as once declared under the influence of several bottles of Miller Lite and shots of Jagermeister.

"Well, she lives with Pony and Sally, and those two..."

"So goddamn what, Lila. So they're dykes. So what." Gabrielle slammed the brush down.

"Well, I mean, I really don't care...what they do is their own business, just as long as I don't have to see it." Lila tried in vain to sound as liberal as her sister.

"I guess I'll have to tell them not to come over and perform for you tonight, then," Gabrielle growled sarcastically, walking toward the door.

"You're just impossible sometimes," Lila shouted after her. "No wonder Purdy didn't want to be with you anymore!"

Gabrielle picked her car keys out of the candy dish on the kitchen table and slammed the door behind her.

*****

She had been nursing a Miller Lite the entire time Effie and the band were on stage; the set actually ran a little longer than Effie had told her—it was after eleven, and they were finally winding down, singing a version of "Layla." They were an odd group, Gabrielle thought, regarding her friends on stage: Pony at the drums, Sally on bass, Effie with her guitar, singing. Pony liked strictly country music, Sally liked classic rock stuff, and Effie, like Gabrielle, went for mushy love songs, although she was unsuccessful in her campaign to get the group to cover Celine Dion. At last, they launched into the final song of the evening, "Angel of the Morning," much to Sally's consternation; the willowy bassist rolled her eyes as Pony gently yet firmly launched into the melodramatic beats and Effie began to sing. Gabrielle smiled as Effie's voice washed over the inattentive crowd.

Out of the corner of her eye Gabrielle saw an interesting trio enter the bar: A large, burly man with long, sandy brown hair and a short, muscular fellow with curly blond hair were accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman with flowing black hair. They ordered beers at the bar, and while the large man engaged his smaller friend in conversation, the tall woman leaned back against the bar and watched the band. Her jeans, t-shirt, and work boots were as dark as her hair. She stood arms folded, drinking a Heineken. Gabrielle found herself staring at the striking woman, until the woman finally returned her frank, inquisitive stare. With a shudder—of what, she didn't quite know—she turned away and once again focused her attention on Effie. But, half a minute later, when she let her eyes roam once again to the stranger at the bar, she found those sparkling intense eyes still on her.

Half-hearted applause rose as the song ended; Gabrielle, in a nervous burst of energy, led the cheers and clapping. As Effie wished the crowd a good-night and exhorted them to sign a mailing list, Gabrielle climbed on the stage to help the group put their equipment away.

"Hey roadie," Sally greeted her with a grin.

"Hi Sal. How's it going?"

"Pretty good, although dumb-ass over there didn't listen to me!" She threw a glare at Pony, who was slowly dismantling her drum kit. "I heard that," the burly drummer retorted. "I'm fine, Sally, stop bugging me!"

"You're hurt, Pony, you need to rest that arm!" Sally shouted at her lover.

"Knock it off!" Pony yelled back.

"Christ, you two," Gabrielle moaned. Effie came over and gave her a hug. "Well?" she demanded. She always asked Gabrielle's opinion of a performance, because she knew her friend was always honest, yet gentle.

"'Angel' was good, Eff. 'Layla' was a little sluggish though."

"Thought so. Pony was getting tired."

"Shut up!" Pony roared.

"I wish you'd lay off 'Achy Breaky Heart' though..."

"Well, we gotta keep you-know-who happy," Sally growled as she watched Pony stalk off the stage.

"Oh Jesus, Sally, don't let her get tanked!" Effie said to the bassist.

"Don't worry, Eff." Sally leaned into her friends conspiratorially. "Eff—did ya see who's here?"

Effie nodded slowly.

"Who?" Gabrielle asked.

"Zina," Effie nodded over at the bar.

"The woman? With black hair?" Gabrielle said breathlessly. "You know her?"

"Yeah," Effie drawled mysteriously. "We go back a ways."

"I've never seen her in here before," Gabrielle remarked.

"She lives in Chakram Creek. She's a fireman over there."

"Fireperson," Gabrielle corrected.

"Whatever. I'd heard she went straight after getting out of prison."

"No!" Sally cried, horrified.

"Not that kinda straight, Sally," Effie smirked. "I mean, she's not a con anymore. No more dope, no stealin'..."

"What was she in for?" Gabrielle interrupted nervously.

"Oh, she was in and out a lot. Minor stuff at first, like grand theft auto, dealin' weed, then breaking and entering, burglary...she did two and a half years altogether." Effie regarded the dark, dangerous woman who was quietly talking with her large friend. "Some say she even set fire to that old house in Cirra, but they never proved that."

"It's kinda funny she's a fireman then, isn't it?" Sally said. She and Effie cracked up.

"Wow," Gabrielle whispered. She permitted herself to take in the woman unabashedly. Sally and Effie exchanged a look.

"What're you so interested in, Miss Gabrielle?" Sally asked, smirking.

"Nothin'!" Gabrielle cried defensively. "It's just...she sounds real interesting. I'd like to meet her sometime."

Effie raised an eyebrow. "No time like the present, then!" She grabbed Gabrielle's arm and proceeded to drag her friend over to the bar.

"Effie!" Gabrielle squealed in protest. She hoped her hair looked okay.

The three friends at the bar turned their attention to the two women who approached them. "Zina!" Effie said effusively.

" 'lo, Eff," murmured Zina. She hoisted the Heineken to her lips and let her eyes roam over Gabrielle, who felt a strangle tingling sensation travel up her spine. They must have the air conditioning on too strong again, she thought, even though she was sweating a little. Zina, however, looked cool as a cucumber.

"Long time no see. How the hell are you?" Effie said.

"Pretty good."

"Heard you're living over in the Creek now."

"Yup."

"Workin' for the fire department, huh?"

"Yup."

"Like it?"

"Uh huh."

Gabrielle let a dint of exasperation cloud her face. She's about as interesting as that bottle of Heineken, thought the budding poet.

"So what's up, Eff?"

"I wanted to introduce you to my best friend, Gabrielle."

"Hiya." Zina enfolded Gabrielle's smaller hand with her large, warm one. She nodded toward the large man on her left. "This here's Hank." Then a nod to the shorter fellow on her right. "An' this is Ed."

Hank's smile was warm; he too shook Gabrielle’s hand. Ed wore a John Deere cap, from which his mass of curly gold hair tried to escape. His eyes twinkled mischievously. Gabrielle liked him immediately. "Hi!" he said enthusiastically. "Wanna dance?" he asked.

She looked at the dance floor near the jukebox. No one was on the floor except Margie Peckerwood, who was, as usual, drunk and dancing with herself. "Uh, maybe later," Gabrielle said, with an apologetic smile.

"Well, maybe you’d like to go outside an’ look at my new truck..." Ed leered.

Gabrielle looked surprised. Hank shook his head sadly. "Some other time," she suggested. Now she wasn’t sure if she liked him as much.

"Smooth move, Ex-Lax," Hank drawled, playfully swatting Ed’s head and causing his hat to fall to the floor.

"Watch the hat, goddammit!" Ed cried.

"Come on, let’s go play pool. Table’s free." Hank turned to Zina. "You comin’, Z?"

"Not right now," replied Zina with another pull on the Heineken.

As the men sauntered away, Effie announced, "Well, I need to go help Sal load up the van. I’ll see ya later, honey," she gave Gabrielle a quick hug.

"Effie! Don’t leave me with her!" Gabrielle hissed in her friend’s ear.

"Too late!" Effie whispered back, gleefully. She smiled and waved goodbye at Zina, who nodded.

Gabrielle turned to the laconic firefighter. It was then noticed the intense blue of the woman’s eyes. "So, uh, how’d you get such an unusual name?" she asked.

"Mom was a hippie," Zina replied.

"Huh? I don’t get it."

Zina sighed; she hated making the effort to formulate a longer sentence. "Well, uh, you know how tree-huggers are. They’re a little funny, always gotta do things differently. Mom did say it was an old family name, but I don’t know...I mean, she named our dog Moonchild, for Christ’s sake."

Gabrielle giggled. Then stopped, hoping that Zina would not take offense. But a lop-sided grin lit up the tall woman’s handsome face. And Gabrielle felt herself return the smile. Maybe Zina wasn’t as bad as she thought—she did appear to have a sense of humor. "Is, uh, Hank your boyfriend?"

Zina chuckled. "Nope. He was, a long time ago, but not no more. He is my best bud, though. He helped me get on the fire department."

Eventually Zina went over to play pool with Hank. Gabrielle watched and talked with Ed a little, who kept telling her silly jokes.

"Hey, how come little girls don’t fart?"

"I dunno. Why?"

"’Cause they don’t get an asshole until they get married!"

She laughed so hard she spilled her beer. "That’s pretty funny—hey, it’s cool that you told that joke, since you’re a guy and all."

"I’m an equal opportunity bullshitter," Ed replied, swigging a Rolling Rock.

When Gabrielle left the Saddle it was a little after midnight. She climbed into her Ford Escort, inserted the key into the ignition, and heard the car give its old familiar sputter. But this time it would not turn over. She tried for fifteen minutes. Finally she got out of the car, and kicked a tire rather furiously. "Piece of shit!" she yelled at it.

"Not startin’?" said a smooth, sexy voice near her ear.

"Aaaaagh!!!" Gabrielle screamed. She jumped around and saw Zina grinning down at her.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya."

"S’okay," Gabrielle panted. "Uh no, my goddamn car isn’t starting." She kicked the Ford again.

"An Escort," Zina stated flatly. She tch’ed.

"I know, I know, everybody says it’s a piece of crap." She looked at Zina hopefully. "Know anything about cars?"

The firefighter nodded. "Open the hood," she said. Gabrielle reached in and did so. The tall woman ducked her head under the hood. "Battery looks bad," Zina said. "Might be dead."

"Shit!" Gabrielle cried.

Zina slammed the hood down. "Lock it up, call a tow service tomorrow," she suggested. "I’ll give you a ride home on my bike."

"Bike?" bleated the small woman fearfully.

"Yeah." She followed Zina over to a big sleek motorcycle. A Harley.

"Wow," Gabrielle said, awestruck. Zina handed her a helmet. "What about you? Don’t you have a helmet?" she asked, strapping the dark thing on her head.

Zina smiled at her and tapped the helmet. "You’re wearin’ it, kid. Hop on. Where d’ya live?"

"Potadeia Road. The yellow house just past the church."

"Gotcha."

"Uh, Zina?" "Yeah?"

"I’m a little scared—I’ve never ridden on a cycle before."

"It’ll be okay, Gabrielle," Zina replied soothingly. Her simple words, spoken in that rich, clear voice, put Gabrielle at ease. For some inexplicable reason she trusted this woman. "Just hang on to me tight, okay?"

"Okay." Gabrielle climbed on the bike behind the tall woman and gently wrapped her arms around the t-shirt-clad torso. Her grasp tightened as the Harley exploded into sound and motion. The taut, rippling muscles of Zina’s stomach were a pleasant distraction to Gabrielle as they flowed across the parking lot and onto the road.

Zina was a careful driver, Gabrielle noticed—she was confident, yet she did not drive the bike too fast—probably ‘cause she doesn’t want to scare me, thought the young woman. It pleased her that her new friend was so considerate. She sighed happily as they moved through the night. The wind was cool, and Zina’s dark hair whipped behind her, the strands tickling and touching Gabrielle’s face.

*****

The next morning at work, Gabrielle sought out Effie during their 10:15 coffee break.

"So you had car trouble?" Effie said. They didn’t have time to talk before punching in earlier; Gabrielle only had a moment to mention that her car was dead.

"My car broke down outside the Saddle last night. I had to get a ride to work with Purdy," she scowled. Purdy had stayed over last night, and this morning, upon hearing of her dilemma, offered to drive her to work, the big suck-up. Reluctantly she had accepted, since she knew it would be out of Eff’s way to come and give her a ride.

Effie smirked. "Hmmm...you gonna get Purdy to fix it, too?"

Gabrielle sighed in defeat. "Yeah, he’s gonna get Bob to tow it over to the garage this afternoon, and he said he’ll get Bob to give me a discount." Purdy worked at Bob’s garage. I might as well take advantage of the bastard’s guilt, Gabrielle had thought.

"How’d you get home last night?" Effie took a drag off her Marlboro Light.

"Zina gave me a ride." Gabrielle struggled to sound casual, and fought the happy grin that tugged at her mouth at the mere mention of Zina’s name.

"Oooooh," Effie giggled. "You two got kinda chummy there..."

"Eff, stop. It’s not what you think."

"Yeah, right. Pony and Sally think you have it in you."

"No!" cried Gabrielle. A blush traveled across her face.

"Yes. Speakin’ of which, we’re having a birthday party for Pony this weekend, remember? Saturday night."

"Oh yeah...damn, what am I gonna get her?" Gabrielle was relieved at the change of subject.

"Hey, if you just bring her a six-pack she’ll be happier than a pig in swill."

*****

When she woke up on Saturday morning, Lila was gone—she was probably off somewhere with Purdy. Gabrielle poured herself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs and sat down to a leisurely breakfast in front of the TV. As she waited for the Cocoa Puffs to get mushy, she noticed a videotape sitting atop the coffee table. It was label-less. Ever curious, she popped the tape into the VCR; the old machine heaved and clicked and whirred, and a picture came into view. It was the Jerry Springer Show. Gabrielle always thought that Jerry—with his messy blond hair and tiny eyes hiding behind those glasses—looked like a Muppet. The title of the show floated by: "Why Did You Knock Up That Slut?" Impatiently Gabrielle started in on the Cocoa Puffs—they still weren’t mushy enough, but she was hungry.

Thus spake Jerry: "On today’s show, we have people who disapprove of their family’s behavior..." The camera swung onto a young man, who looked vaguely familiar: he was thin and scrungy, with hollowed-out eyes, stringy hair, and patchy facial hair. "This is Gary, who is unhappy with his brother’s choice of a girlfriend."

Gabrielle spat out a mouthful of cereal. It was Gary. Purdy’s brother.

"Yeah, Jerry, my brother’s girlfriend is a total skank." She was outraged. That fucker, she thought. How dare he call my sister skank!

"Why do you say that, Gary?"

Gary rolled his druggy eyes. "’Cause she is!"

"Well, er, how about we meet your brother, Peter"—Purdy’s real name—"and his girlfriend, Lila."

Purdy swaggered out onto the set, resplendent in his best flannel shirt. Lila trailed behind him, looking grossly pregnant. Gabrielle felt like putting her foot through the TV, although she was comforted by the fact that Lila looked so huge in the tent-like maternity dress which said "BABY ON BOARD!"

"So, Peter, what do you say about your brother’s claims?"

"Man, he’s so *bleep* up on crack, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about!" Purdy drawled.

"Bull *bleep* !" said Gary. "You got no taste in wimmin whatsoever. Your last girlfriend was a stone cold bitch, and this one’s a slut!"

Purdy hurled himself toward his brother and the set erupted in chaos. Shakily, Gabrielle turned off the TV. She stared into her cereal bowl. He called me a bitch...and they didn’t even defend me. Not Purdy. Not Lila. No one. And they left the tape out in plain sight. Like they wanted me to see it. Why? Why doesn’t anyone ever take my side? She tried to fight it, but tears came to her eyes and she slumped into the recliner, surrendering to the sadness.

*****

Pony eagerly peeled away the wrapping paper. "Bubble bath?" she said, puzzled. "Uh, thanks, Gabrielle." She sat it alongside her other gifts: a whoopie cushion and fake blood (from Hank and Ed), a bottle of Jack Daniel’s (from Effie) and a new softball glove (her most treasured gift, from Sally).

Gabrielle shrugged. Everyone at the party could not help but notice her downcast mood; she felt lousy about it, but couldn’t help herself. Ed tried to cheer her up with some bad jokes, but even that didn’t work for long. So she sat morosely on the couch beside Effie, who every now and then would give her friend a concerned glance.

"I think it’s nice," Effie said. She gave Gabrielle’s leg a squeeze.

"Let’s have cake!" Sally announced. She and Effie moved into the kitchen. Hank, who appeared to have a crush on Effie, followed. Ed took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, and Pony got up to put on a new tape.

"No more Randy Travis, Pony!" Sally shouted from the kitchen.

"Hey, it’s my goddamn birthday!" Pony yelled back. The doorbell rang. "Gab, would you get that?" Pony called.

Mechanically Gabrielle got up and skulked to the door. She opened it. Zina, dressed in a Metallica t-shirt and Levi’s, mirrored sunglasses masking her brilliant eyes, grinned at her. "Am I too late?"

Gabrielle stood speechless. A sense of relief, of warmth, washed over her, and she didn’t know why. Why was she so damned happy to see this woman? "Oh...no," she said quietly. "You’re...right on time." She did not move, but continued to stand in the doorway and stare at the woman before her.

Zina pulled off the sunglasses. Her deep blue eyes showed concern. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently.

"Uh, yeah. I am now." Gabrielle broke into a grin.

"Can I...come in?"

"Huh? Oh...duh!" Gabrielle stepped aside. "You’re just in time for cake."

"Cool. Where’s the birthday girl?"

"Hogging the stereo," Gabrielle replied.

As Zina moved gracefully into the house, Gabrielle trailed behind her, like a puppy.

*****

It was not lost on Effie that Gabrielle’s mood improved after Zina’s arrival—although she was concerned with how much her little friend was drinking. Her fears were realized when she saw Gabrielle lurch into the bathroom, and heard the tell-tale retching sounds.

Effie surveyed the little party. Ed was passed out. Sally and Pony had "retired" for the evening (thank God for thick walls, she thought)...she wanted to be alone with Hank, who was, remarkably, still sober. She knew that Zina would take off if Gabrielle left, and she hoped the vomiting was the beginning of the end of the party.

She hovered outside the bathroom door with Zina. She knocked lightly. "Gab, honey, you okay?" she called.

"Uh...yeah," Gabrielle moaned.

"Can we come in?"

"What...all of ya?"

"No, just me and Zina."

There was a lengthy pause.

"How about I just send in Zina, okay?" Effie suggested. Zina shot her a panicky look. Sometimes I’m just too smart for ‘em all, Effie thought proudly.

Another pause. "Okay."

Effie turned to Zina. "You’re on your own, Buster Brown." Before the befuddled firefighter could reply, Effie was back on the couch with Hank.

Slowly, Zina opened the bathroom door, expecting the worst. She was much relieved to see that Gabrielle had indeed hit her target, the toilet bowl. The small woman sat on the floor in front of it.

"How ya feelin’?" she asked Gabrielle.

"Better. I’m sorry...I guess I just...had a lousy day."

"Yeah?" Zina asked. "What happened?"

Gabrielle proceeded to tell her about the whole thing: Lila, Purdy, Jerry Springer.

"That sucks," Zina said.

"Thanks. I just felt like shit. Like no one likes me."

"That’s not true, Gabrielle. I...like you." Zina mumbled, nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

"Really?" Zina nodded. "Yeah, well..." Gabrielle giggled.

"What?"

"You don’t want to...you know."

"What?"

"I mean, you don’t like me that way...you wouldn’t want to kiss me or..." Her green eyes met Zina’s. Or would you?

"Uh, no I wouldn’t..."

Gabrielle felt as if she would throw up her heart.

"Cause your breath would smell like puke." Zina smiled. "But if you brushed your teeth..." she added, hoping it sounded enough like a joke so she wouldn’t alarm the girl.

"Get me my purse!" The redhead barked imperiously.

Zina opened the door and yelled to Effie: "Effie! Bring Gabrielle’s purse!" The firefighter saw Effie look up from her position on the couch: stretched out, with her feet in Hank’s lap. The big man was gently massaging her dainty feet. "Oh Christ," Effie moaned. Reluctantly she rose, and did as she was told. Zina smiled gratefully as Effie handed her the huge shoulder bag. "Jesus, what you got in here?" she said, closing the door and giving the purse to Gabrielle.

Gabrielle ignored her and began to ransack the bag with admirable focus. Several objects flew out onto the floor: Tic Tacs, tampons, pens, a tattered-looking notebook, a library card, sunglasses, and birth control pills. Gabrielle stopped for a second and stared at the pills. Then she tossed them into the trash. Then she stuck her arm inside the bag again. "Ah!" Gabrielle cried in triumph, holding aloft a toothbrush. She grinned devilishly at Zina, whose blue eyes went wide in shock.

"Whatsamatter, Zina? You all talk and no action?" She stood up and rinsed the brush, then squeezed some Crest out of the tube.

"Uh..."

Gabrielle glared. "You don’t want to kiss me?" She stuck the brush in her mouth, scrubbing her teeth in a furious lather.

"Uh..."

"Let me tell you somethin’, Dorito-breath, you’re getting the better end of this deal!" she said through a mouth of foam. She rinsed, and flashed her teeth at Zina. Then, for good measure, she took a swig of Effie’s Listerine and gargled.

"Gabrielle, are you sure..."

Gabrielle spat out the blue fluid. "Look, Zina, do you like me or not?" she cried petulantly.

The tall woman, leaning against the tub, smiled her mysterious smile—which turned Gabrielle’s insides out. She reached out and snared Gabrielle by the waist. The short woman was pressed against the muscular firefighter; her hands went flat against the strong shoulders and then glided instinctively around Zina’s neck. "Judge for yourself," Zina said, and lowered on her lips softly onto Gabrielle’s.

They were locked in a kiss when a voice shouted outside the bathroom door: "Comin’ through!" The door burst open and Ed hurled by, crouched over the toilet, and proceeded to throw up. The two women were oblivious to this burst of unpleasant activity. Effie and Hank, who had followed Ed, stood outside the door and stared at the sight of Gabrielle and Zina all over each other.

"Holy hell, Z," Hank muttered in shock.

"Woo-HOO!" Effie chortled.

The noise had roused the birthday girl from a sound, sex-induced slumber. Effie and Hank stood aside, affording Pony a view of the busy bathroom. "This was a pretty fuckin’ awesome party," she observed thoughtfully.

*****

Two weeks passed.

"You’ve been goin’ out an awful lot," Lila commented to her sister one evening, as she watched Gabrielle apply strawberry-kiwi-banana lip gloss in the bathroom.

"Well, I don’t want to be in your way, Lila."

"Bullshit." Lila paused. "It’s not like you were in my way before, Gabrielle." Another pause.

I swear she’s jealous, Gabrielle thought, and let a smug smile cross her face.

"Are you seein’ someone?"

"What if I was?" she retorted in a sing-song voice.

"Who is it?" Lila asked eagerly. She loved gossip, and she was hopeful that Gabrielle would finally get involved with someone, so she could stop feeling guilty.

"You don’t know...this person."

"Well, what does he do?"

"Firefighter," Gabrielle supplied.

"Ooooh," Lila cooed in approval. She conjured up a vision of a tall, dark handsome fireman. Aside from gender, she was not far off the mark at all. "That’s great, Gab. I can’t wait to meet him. Why don’t you invite him over for dinner or somethin’?"

"Uh, maybe sometime soon." She glanced at her Tasmanian Devil watch. "I gotta go. Say, are you and Purdy going to the fair on Friday night?"

"Yeah. You...wanna come?"

"Actually, I was gonna invite Effie and the gang over to watch videos. Their VCR is busted," Gabrielle lied. Her real plan was to invite Zina over for dinner.

"That’s cool. We’ll probably stay over at Purdy’s place that night...so you guys can party all night long."

Perfect, thought Gabrielle with a grin.

*****

There was something about firefighting gear, Zina thought pleasantly: the metal hat and visor, the glossy black and yellow coat, the boots...young children looked at her with awe, adults with admiration and respect, and Gabrielle leaped on her like a tick on a dog as soon as she came home. She sat happily on the couch in her mobile home (she hated to call it a trailer), allowing her lithe companion to crawl all over her like a jungle gym, smother her with kisses, caress her body, nibble her ear and moan throatily: "Ooooh firefighter, save my child...."

The world was perfect, until she heard the screen door slam. "Honey!!!" A shrill voice called. "I got your echinacea tea!"

"Oh shit," Zina moaned.

Gabrielle stopped her assault and turned around. A pleasant middle-aged woman, with a paisley scarf around her head, wearing a flowered skirt and lots of dangling jewelry, stood grinning at them. "Hey honey, who’s your sauce?" she addressed Zina.

Zina sighed. "Gabrielle...this is my mother. Mom, this is Gabrielle."

"Hi, Gabrielle!" Zina’s mother said brightly. "It’s nice to meet you...sorry to interrupt." She winked.

"Hi, Mrs. Zina," Gabrielle blurted, blushing furiously.

The woman laughed heartily. "Honey, you just call me Cyrene. I was never ‘Mrs.’ Anybody." She sashayed past them into the kitchen, carrying a small bag. "So I got you the tea, and some tempeh, a different brand though, I hope you like it..." She opened the refrigerator. "OH MY GOD!" she shrieked.

Gabrielle jumped off Zina’s lap. "What? What’s wrong?"

"There’s something from BURGER KING in here!"

"Mom, chill out, they’re just fries..." Zina mumbled.

"So you say!" Cyrene retorted. "You could’ve had a burger for all I know...and it’s not like fries are any better for you."

Gabrielle looked at Zina in confusion. Just last night she witnessed Zina wolf down a burger from Roy’s. Zina shook her head at Gabrielle and pressed a finger to her lips. Gabrielle nodded in complicity.

"Looks like I got here just in time," Cyrene sighed. "Go get the rest of the groceries out of my car, honey." Grumbling, Zina got up, shed her coat, and lumbered out to the car.

"Now tell me the truth...she’s been eating meat, hasn’t she?" Cyrene asked Gabrielle.

Gabrielle paused. She hated to lie, and she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Zina’s mom. "Yes," she admitted.

"Oh, hell," Cyrene said. "I might as well give up. I’m never going to make her a vegetarian." She shook her head, causing a chain reaction of clinking from her earrings down to her bracelets. "So tell me about yourself, Gabrielle. What do you do?"

"Well, I work at the cannery right now, but I’m hoping to take some night classes at Olympus Community College this fall..."

"Groovy! What kinda classes?"

"Uh, well, I wanna be a writer," she said shyly.

"Wow! That’s so cool! Did Zina tell you that I knew Bob Dylan?"

"No, really?" Gabrielle breathed with awe.

"Yeah, I dated him...right around the time I was dating Zina’s dad...I always wondered if Bobby was Zina’s real father..." she twirled a necklace and contemplated her monosyllabic child. "Nah!" She laughed. "Anyway, I think Dylan is a true poet. He is this century’s Shakespeare, man."

Gabrielle nodded vigorously, even though she had to admit to herself she never understood a goddamn thing that Dylan sang.

"Hey!" Cyrene pulled a joint out of her skirt pocket. "Care to partake?"

The budding poet opened her mouth to eagerly consent, only to hear Zina shout from the doorway, "Goddammit, Mom, put that away!!! D’ya want me to get arrested again?"

"I don’t see any cops, honey," Cyrene grumbled. Nonetheless she put away the joint for later. "Man, busted by my own kid!"

*****

"I’m glad you eat meat, ‘cause I made a meatloaf," Gabrielle said proudly.

It was Friday night. Wearing her best Levi’s, Zina had showed up at the apartment...with flowers, no less. Damn, she’s smooth! thought Gabrielle, sniffing the roses. Purdy never bought me flowers!

"Uh, nice place," Zina awkwardly, sitting on the plaid couch. Then she added: "I do like meatloaf. In fact, I haven’t had a home-made one in a real long time." Like try never, you moron, Zina thought, recalling the endless parade of beans and rice and tofu and tempeh in her childhood.

"Good," responded Gabrielle, who bustled in the kitchen. "You like potatoes?"

"Yup."

"Mashed potatoes?"

"Yup."

"Hey Zina, just what were you in jail for?"

"What?"

Gabrielle poked her head out of the kitchen. "Sorry, I’m just curious...Effie told me you were in prison for two and a half years."

Zina sighed. "Yeah...I had all sorts of priors, and, um, when they caught me breaking and entering, I had a gram of coke on me, and uh, the getaway car was stolen..." Well, so much for romance, the tall firefighter thought.

"Wow," Gabrielle said.

"It’s not somethin’ to be impressed with, Gabrielle."

"I’m not...impressed."

"Scared, then?" The firefighter’s blue eyes issued a dangerous challenge.

Gabrielle met it. "No...hell no, I’m not scared. Why should I be?"

Zina said nothing. Gabrielle crossed the room and sat beside her and linked her arm with Zina’s. "Hey, that’s all in the past. I know that. You’re a different person now...you got a good job, you’re doing right." Gabrielle paused. "You’re trying to make up for what you did, right?"

"I...I’m tryin’, but it’s hard." Zina sighed again, and stared down at the orange shag rug. "You don’t know the worst of what I did." A gentle hand touched her chin and guided her gaze back to Gabrielle’s face.

"Tell me, Zina," she requested softly.

"I guess Eff told you...about the house. In Cirra." Zina’s voice was tight.

"It’s true, then?"

Zina nodded. "No one got hurt, but the whole family...they were homeless. They lost everything. They had no insurance neither." She breathed deeply, for the courage to tell Gabrielle the rest of it. "It was my girlfriend’s house, Gabrielle. She lived there with her parents and sister. One day we had fought somethin’ awful, she said she never wanted to see me again, and I just went nuts. Later that night me and a buddy of mine, Artie...we went by the place...I just meant to like, throw eggs or something, but he lit a newspaper on the porch...an’ it just spread..." Another deep breath. "Callie knew, of course. She knew it was me. I even admitted it to her. But the cops could never prove anything, and since she’s always been mad as a hatter anyway, they just never really believed her." She closed her eyes. She thought Gabrielle would jump up, demand that she leave...call the cops, the state troopers....

Instead, she felt the warm sensation of arms wrapping around her, squeezing tightly. And, for the first time in years, since she was a kid, she let herself cry.

*****

After the fair, Lila and Purdy had gone to his place, but much to their dismay they found Gary crashing there—his cash had run out, and he had no place to go. Feelings were still a little raw from the Springer show—not to mention Purdy was understandably scared of his psycho brother—so Lila and Purdy opted to go to Lila’s.

Purdy woke up Saturday morning around 6:30—he had to be in at the garage by 7, so he had just enough time to wash up and grab breakfast from Dunkin’ Donuts. Lila, of course, was out like a light as he climbed out of bed and wandered down the still-dark hallway. To his dismay he noticed that the bathroom was occupied—what the hell was Gabrielle doing up at this hour? He knew that the woman never voluntarily rose before 10am on a weekend. Well, he thought, I’ve seen her on the can before—and he opened the door to find a tall, strange nude woman with damp hair, glaring at him with irritation. "You might try knockin’ next time," she growled. In a panic he slammed the door shut and stood there in the hallway, puzzled as all hell. "Hey!" he shouted through the door. "Who’re you?"

"Shoosh!" hissed Gabrielle, who was suddenly standing behind him. He yelped loudly in surprise. Gabrielle wore a long black t-shirt which hung down to her knees. It’s not like her to dress in black, he thought. "Gabrielle, what the fuck is going on? I hafta get ready for work!" he yelled.

"Quiet! You’ll wake up Lila," she whispered.

"Who is that in the bathroom?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Her name’s Zina. She’s a...friend."

"We didn’t see anyone on the couch when we came in last night."

"She was sleeping in my room, Purdy."

He frowned, confused. "Where?"

"In my bed, you idiot."

"Where did you sleep?"

She glared at him.

The faint dawn of understanding crossed his dopey features. "Oh...man. Jesus!" He spun on his heel and ran back into Lila’s bedroom.

*****

"You’ve gone queer on me!" Lila wailed.

"Oh for Christ’s sake, Lila..." Gabrielle groaned.

"I knew I shouldn’t have taken Purdy away from you," she blubbered.

"What are you talking about?"

"You’re too sensitive Gab, you always were. Obviously, the shock of it—losing Purdy to me—was too much, and it made you gay."

"Lila, you can’t make people gay. The therapist on Jenny Jones last week said so."

"That’s just crap!" Lila cried. "What’re you gonna tell Ma and Pa?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "The truth, I guess. That I’m happy. That I’m in love. That I’m going back to school and I’m gonna make something out of my life."

*****

Gabrielle recalled how, when she was little, her parents always told her that the lowest of the low lived in trailer parks. And, she had to admit, trailers in general were pretty ugly...although Zina’s was nicely kept and simple. She smiled. I don’t care if we have to live in a tent, as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter.

They had decided to move in together. Zina had said, with her salary, she could support them both while Gabrielle went to school full time. At first Gabrielle had resisted—she didn’t want to be a charity case—but later reconsidered. She knew she would get a better job with a college degree, or so she hoped. And she could do the same for Zina someday, like if she wanted to retire early...in the meantime she was happy to return to school, cook, clean, and wash Zina’s seemingly endless supply of black t-shirts.

Things got better and better. One day, not long after they had moved in together, Effie showed up after work, in a state of excitement that Gabrielle had never seen her in. "Guess what!" she shrieked.

"What??" Gabrielle squealed in return; the emotion intensified the shrillness factor.

"We got a record deal!!" screamed Effie.

"Oh my GOD you’re kiddin’!!!" They clasped arms and jumped wildly about the trailer so much that Gabrielle was half-afraid the thing would fall off its foundation.

"It’s true, Gab! It’s all ‘cause of Hank, too!" Effie said proudly. "He made a tape of us one night when we were performing at the Saddle, and he sent it to this record company in Memphis!! The dude who owns it—Colonel Tom Artemis, I think his name was—says he wants us to come down and make a record!"

They collapsed on the couch together. "Wow, Eff, that is so cool! I’m so happy! I’ll be your number one fan, always."

Effie turned serious. "Look, honey, I got a favor to ask..."

"Anything, girl. You know that."

"I want you an’ Zina to stay at the farmhouse while we’re gone."

Gabrielle’s jaw dropped.

"Look, you know that house has been in my family for a long time. Well, we’re not gonna be there, at least maybe for a long time...we really want this thing in Memphis to work...and I want someone there, to watch over the place, to take care of it. And I can’t think of anyone better than you two, ‘cause you really are family to me."

"Oh, Effie!"

Together they cried so much that they went through an entire box of Puffs.

*****

They stood outside the trailer. Or rather, Gabrielle stood and Zina paced. "I hope this idea of yours works," the firefighter muttered.

Gabrielle smiled confidently. She had a feeling it would.

A red Camaro swung in the trailer park from the highway. As it careened down the road, the driver’s wild blond hair became visible and the car seemed to gain speed as it approached them. Gabrielle panicked for a moment and thought the driver might kill them. But Zina seemed undisturbed, so she figured it must be okay.

The wild Camaro abruptly stopped a mere three feet in front of the stoic Zina. It had happened so fast Gabrielle didn’t even have time to be afraid. But Zina’s face betrayed nothing as the driver exited gracefully from the car.

She was tall, although not as tall as Zina, thin, wearing a yellow halter top and the shortest pair of cutoffs that Gabrielle had ever seen. "Hello, Zina," she sneered sarcastically.

"Callie," Zina returned the greeting in a hostile, bored tone.

Callie turned her attentions to Gabrielle. "What is this, Little House on the Prairie?"

"Callie..." Zina growled.

"What is it you wanted to see me about, Zina? Or did you want to try to set me on fire this time?"

"I want to give you something, Callie. I know I can never repay you..."

"I’ll say, you firemen don’t make that much...I thought it was pretty funny, Zina, when I heard you became one...I thought, boy, they must be pretty desperate."

"I wanna give you my home, Callie." Zina jerked her thumb toward the trailer. "As payment. For you to do with whatever you want. You can live here. Your parents can live here. Hell, you can set the thing on fire if you want." Zine held up a thick envelope. "I signed it all over to you."

Callie stared at her in disbelief. Then she stared at the trailer and, walking around it, made a slow circular inspection. Then she opened the door of the trailer, and peeked inside at its immaculate emptiness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she looked at Zina, her sneer firmly back in place.

"So you think," Callie began in a low, menacing voice, "that if you give me this piece of crap, that it’ll make up for everything you’ve done to me, that it’ll equal the loss of my HOME?" she screamed out the last word, which echoed over the park.

Gabrielle winced. Man, she’s even shriller than Eff & I put together.

Zina raised a sculpted dark eyebrow. She held out the envelope to Callie. The crazed brown eyes met the cool blue ones.

Callie blinked, then shrugged. "Okay. What the hell." She snatched the envelope from Zina. Hands on hips, she regarded her new trailer. "Ah...things I could do with this place..." she murmured in delusion.

God, she’s even crazier than Zina said, thought Gabrielle.

"Well, it’s been real, Callie, an’ it’s been fun...but it hasn’t been real fun." Zina started to walk toward her Harley, followed by Gabrielle.

Callie ignored her and idly twirled a strand of her wild hair. She was picturing the exterior of her trailer in day-glo orange.

"That worked out pretty well," Zina commented as she straddled the Harley and started it with a kick. "Thanks, Gabrielle. How’d you come up with that idea anyway?"

Gabrielle tucked her red-gold hair under her helmet and then flung her arms around her companion’s waist. "Oh honey, don’t you worry your pretty little head about it."

Laughing, they tore of out the trailer park together.

THE END

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #author: vivian darkbloom #mature #fanfiction #femslash

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fantasticcloaksandhowtolevitate · 5 years

Text

I hate baseball.

Always have. It bores me. It's slow and predictable. But, we used to watch it a lot with my grandma when I was younger. She was an avid fan. I don't mean she was a big fan. I mean she had a notebook with the batting lineup for her team and if there was a change in the order she would mark it down in her book. She and her sister would call each other on the phone when something exciting happened. But it was never my thing.

But tonight? Tonight is different. Her team, the Astros, are fighting to play in the World Series, again. She didn't get to see them win the Series a couple years ago. I wish she had. I wish more than anything she had been alive to see her 'Stros do the impossible. So tonight; as I sit, watching a sport I've never liked, i feel oddly close to her. She might not be here, but i feel her. Like, I'm yelling at the tv. At a sport I care nothing about. Yelling. And actually getting excited or disappointed or angry when the ump makes a bad call. Because it's kinda like being a kid again. I can almost hear her calling Aunt Janie to talk about that strikeout during the commercial break. I can see her little notebook. I feel the crushed velvet of the recliners we sat in. And sitting here, trying to single-handedly will the Astros to victory, I somehow miss her more and less than ever at the same time. The only thing that could make me enjoy this any more (besides a win and the Astros going to the Series) would be if she was here with me. As much as I hate baseball, I would give absolutely anything to be able to watch one more game with her.

#tay rambles #personal #houston astros #baseball #world series 2019 #world series

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the-fiction-witch · 5 years

Text

Staying at the in laws p2

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: CONFUSING

THOMAS’ POV:

"we're here!" I heard y/n cheerful yell we swapped over at the McDonald's car park when we got to her home town because my legs where going to sleep plus she knew this place a whole lot better then I did somehow in whatever distance it was between that car park and her parents place I had fallen asleep "We're here?" I ask hardly awake "Yep, come on we need to get our stuff before it gets to dark" she says getting out I look around it already seemed pretty dam dark to me so I got out helping her get out our bags of stuff and clothes for all the time we would be spending here we opened the little gate and snunk in I instantly could smell an odd mix of roses from the garden and huge piles of dog shit pooled around each car, all of them I assume members of her families? Alot of them didn't look good in fact there was half a car across the back of the garden she ran up as I shut the gate dinging the little doorbell I could here the little dinging going off inside and I saw a large dog jump up the main window starting to growl I stepped closer trying my best not to step in anything as I got to the little stone path close to the door just as it opened "Y/N! ITS Y/N EVERYONE! YAY!" erupted from the door as a woman stood there and many people where sat around inside the dog pushed past this woman it was a big and bouncy black dog it jumped on y/n putting it's paws on her shoulders as it stood "Awwww hey boy" she smiles giving the dog a pet before it jumped down coming to me and growling at me "awwww, it's okay boy it's just Thomas" she giggled "Uhh hi uhh dog" I began trying to pet it but it barked at me "He won't bite, unless he thinks your going to do something bad" a man chuckled from inside y/n went in the dog following her so I went in putting my stuff with her's she had put it on the stairs as she walked into the large living room so I followed her I felt... Out of my element this was alot of people they can't all be her family? If so she has a big family they all turned to look at me judging every thing about me y/n was stood talking to the woman from the door she turned to me and smiled so I mouthed "help me" to her but she ignored me "So... Your his Thomas I've heard so much about?" A man asked he was sat in a recliner chair a pint glass of beer in his hand and a walking stick wedged between his leg and the cushion of the chair he looked at me glaring waiting for my answer "Uhh.. yeah I'm thomas y/n's boyfriend" I smile "Really? How long have you to been together now?" A woman asked smoking her vape by the fireplace "It was a year a few months ago" I blush "Then why not ring! My granddaughter shouldn't be fooling With some boy till he puts a ring on her finger!" A woman began yelling "Ignore her, old bag, hi lil y/n's sister" a woman smiles getting up and coming to help me to a wooden chair by the dinning room door "Ohh hey, yeah y/n's told me about you" I smile just as the dog jumped up his dirt covered paws sitting on my legs "whoa! Hello uhh dog" I say a little confused as it sniffed me and licked me "Aww he likes you Tommy" y/n giggles sitting beside me as everyone in the room sat around looking at the tv "What's going on?" I whispered "It's Saturday, football is on" she answered "Ohhhh" I sigh "so.. who's who? Come on I've never met anyone before" I ask her "Fine, well there is more here then I though so... Obviously my sister lil, her husband Danny, my aunt Lou who is my dad's sister, my uncle Jim who is my dad's brother, granny pen and grandpa reg who are my dad's parents, my dad obviously, my mum, my mum's brother uncle Warren and his wife Sara my cousin Harry then little puppy fluffy" she explains "Dam that's alot of names" I sigh "You get used to it" she smiles snuggling her head closer to me "only my parents my sister my grandparents and us are sleeping here tonight though" she smiled "Ohh.. I was worried for a minute" I smile giving her head a kiss as the little kid ran up to us her cousin if I remember rightly he came and sat looking at us "what is he doing?" I ask " He does that to new people he is leaning what your face looks like" she answers "Ohhh... Okay" I shrug "hey" I smile but he ran away from me hiding behind a sofa "what did I do?" I ask her "Nothing he recognised your voice that's all" she smiles "How did he- right he's a kid Thunderbirds or freb?" I ask "Freb most likely his mum won't let him watch Thunderbirds too violent" she laughs "shhh unless you want your cock cut off footballs starting" she says "You hate football?" I laugh "Shhhhh not when with family I don't and neither do you unless you want to be crucified I come from a football mad family Thomas get used to it" she explains "Y/n? Can you come give me a hand!" Her mother called from the kitchen she gave me a kiss and went off alot of the other girls following her too them all hanging in the kitchen chatting about... I have no idea actually only me and all the guys in her family "Well we got time before kick off, that blue thing out there yours Thomas?" One of her uncles asked I was unsure which one actually "Ohh yeah, that's my car" I answer "It's nice, do the work yourself?" Another asked "Yeah, I picked it up at a scrap yard a few years ago been repairing it ever since" I answer "it's just been a bit complicated because it's left hand drive so..." I shrug "out of curiosity what is the half broken car in the garden?" I ask "Mine" her father said "my old rover been fixing it up, used to take y/n and lil to school in that you know?" He laughed and everyone chuckled "so sangster you keep yourself busy with that sort of thing?" He asked "Ohh yeah, I mainly work with my motorbikes but cars as and when I need to" I shrug "Ohh biker boy" one sighed "Have you seen they have been re running the originals last couple weeks?" One asked another "Yeah got my box recording them" her dad answered "you watch the trek sangster?" Her father asked me "The trek?" I asked very lost trying to follow this "Star Trek?" He laughed "Ohhh no, I watched the new ones they did with uhh Chris pine" I began "Ohh the shit ones!" They all laughed "Fine not cars, no trek, uhhh music?" Her dad asked "Well I quite like older 50s stuff and more alternative-" I began "Clearly not music" he interrupted "star wars?" He asked "Yes I love star wars" I answer "Well there we go something to talk about" another man laughed "I uhh I was actually in one of them" I smile " the first new one, force awakens" I tell them "Yeah for like two seconds" one laughed as someone clicked the volume for the tv on it was in Some football show I have no idea what it was it was just so loud like in humanly loud I see why all the women went to the kitchen I might go join them in a minute they all say loudly talking over the tv about teams and players I have no idea about most names I didn't even recognize "Thomas! Can I borrow you?" Y/n smiled leaning on the kitchen door "Ohh course" I smile getting up and going across the living room to her but someone I'm not sure who tripped me up sending me face first onto the red carpet making every laugh shit that hurt I got up best I could going to see y/n Busy working away in the kitchen "hi honey?" I say in pain "Aww hi Tommy, your doing well" she giggled giving me a cuddle "I'm in emotional and physical pain and aggony people are literally beating me up and I think your dad is going to murder me for my tv choices" I explain "That's good, your doing better then I thought you would by now" she smiles "just don't let on you don't like football, don't bring up F1 because my dad hates your favourite driver and I'm not breaking that fight up because you will instantly lose, do not bring up politics for yours and my safety, and yes I know it's a lot of racisum and horrible things but please just nod and keep quiet Thomas please for me" she begs "I'll try, for you... I mean I knows they might be my in laws soon?" I smirk "In your dreams" she smiles giving me a kiss "now go out the case of beer on the table for everyone" she says " ohh and take a Stanley knife" she says "Why?" I ask a little puzzled "That's how all problems are resolved in my family Stanley knifes and duck tape whatever is more appropriate, love you" she smiles kissing my cheek and rushing off to help her mum

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hazzasgayvodka · 5 years

Text

13 * HIGHER * 13

Impact: Chapter 13

Chapter title song: Higher - The Score

HARRY

I wake up sweating, but not in a cold sweat as I'm used to. I feel a weight on my stomach and peel my eyes open to see Jess laying completely on top of me, the drool from her mouth soaking through my white tshirt. Her hair is a knotted mess of a bun on top of her head and I can already hear her complaining in the bathroom about untangling it. I'm sure she'll blame it on my shampoo.

She stirs in her sleep, her elbow jabbing me in the ribs where a huge bruise still sits from my fight the other night. I wince slightly, shifting her a bit and instantly regret it as her eyes start to flutter. She pulls away from me, stretching her arms and whining as she scrunches her nose up at the brightness of the room.

Her eyes finally peel open and her expression turns sour in a matter of seconds. She pushes herself off of me and sits up in bed without a word.

"Morning."

She looks over at me, yawning, "Oh, so now you want to talk." She huffs, getting up from the bed and walking towards the door.

"Jess-"

"I'm gonna take a shower." She says, cutting me off.

She throws the door opens and stiffly shuts it behind her before I hear the slam of the bathroom door as well. The pipes whistle as she starts the shower and I'm already at her suitcase grabbing her a pair of jeans and a tshirt when I realize she stormed out of here without any clothes.

I open the bathroom door and before I even get two steps in I hear her voice, "Get out."

"I'm just dropping off clothes for you, no need to get snappy, dollface." I huff, tossing her clothes onto the counter and walking back out.

I shut the door behind me and walk back into the kitchen where Niall's frying up eggs on the stove. He turns to me with a cup of coffee in his hand and I reach for the medicine cabinet to grab his pills so I can drop them in his cup.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, paying me no mind as he flips his eggs.

"Really well actually." I think aloud, realizing that for most of the past week I've slept through the whole night.

Niall perks up at this, turning back to me with a smile.

"No nightmares?"

"Not for the past couple of nights, maybe I'm turning over a new leaf as Lex likes to say." I shrug, making myself a cup of coffee.

"Maybe it's our lovely new house guests," Niall huffs, "You might be getting the best sleep of your life but let me tell you, I wish Louis and Sam didn't have the amount of energy that they do."

I laugh and shake my head as I pour a bowl of cheerios for myself, leaning against the counter as I spoon them into my mouth. I follow him to the couch and when he sets his coffee on the table beside me, I slip his pills inside. He's oblivious as he turns on the TV and a rerun of the Vasquez vs Smith fight is on.

"Oh man, I loved this fight!" He says excitedly through a mouth of eggs.

"It was good, we had to pay for premium cable for a month to watch it." I remember, shaking my head.

"That reminds me," He starts, swallowing his mouth full of food, "Ryland said he got a tip off for the next fight, it's looking like it's gonna be in the basement of engineering hall. Apparently, Davis has been talking big shit about how fast he can knock you out."

"Davis? Come on the guys a tank, I bet he moves as slow as his brain works on an algebra test." I chuckle.

"Exactly, easy money, Ryland says as soon as Davis confirms he'll let us know."

"When?" I ask, leaning up on the couch.

"He said tonight but we'll see, we gotta play it by ear just like every other fight, you know this." Niall shrugs.

"I know but, we have house guests, Niall." I say, keeping my voice down.

"Tell Jess you're staying with Ashlyn or some shit, or that you're staying late at work and just don't come home. I doubt she'll even notice." He says nonchalantly, turning his attention back to the TV.

I'm about to say more when she comes out of the bathroom with her hair wrapped up in a towel. She turns to the TV to see the fight on and rolls her eyes as she pours herself a bowl of cereal and stands at the counter to eat it.

"You can come sit with us you know?" Niall calls to her.

"Yeah I know." She sighs.

I'm about to fire something back when my phone buzzes in my pocket from an unknown number. I look at Niall and he looks at me expectantly. I nod to him, confirming his suspicions as I get up from the couch and head to the laundry room. I grab a pair of jeans off the dryer and a zeppelin tshirt hanging next to one of my suits. Looks like it's fight night.

I walk back out into the kitchen to see Jess looking at me quizzically as he eats her way through her bowl of cocoa pebbles.

"Where are you off to this early in the morning?" She asks.

"Oh, they called me into the shop for the twelve o'clock shift, I'm heading to the office afterwards." I shrug, grabbing a suit on a hanger and taking it with me to really sell it to her.

"Okay, see you later then." She smiles weakly, turning back to the living room and going to sit with Niall.

I go out to the front door, catching sight of her over my shoulder one more time before walking out to my car and getting in. The stupid mix she put in yesterday is still playing and I turn it down, so I can call Ry while I drive.

"Hey what's up?" He asks, already sounding excited.

"You need me to help set up? What's the deal with Normandy? We've never fought there." I think aloud.

"Davis' pick, not sure, apparently the agriculture geeks are at some convention this week so the building's open, I've got the guys in here setting up the ring now." He says, and I can hear the shouts and scrapes of moving furniture.

"Well I can be there in ten-"

"No way, you go home and get on that bag and rest up. You better make sure you carb up kid, this guys a tank."

"I know, he's been spewing shit to me for ages. I can't wait to kick him in the teeth," I smirk, "But small problem, my place is occupied, you got a bag at your place?"

"Occupied? Whatever, yeah, you still got a key?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in five minutes," I say, making a sharp U-turn, "any surprise house guests I should be wary of?"

"Shouldn't be, kicked Brittany out this morning."

"Classy, Ry."

"I try my best, Styles."

I hang up and pull into his building complex, parking my car in front of his apartment lobby and grab my duffle from my trunk. I forget how nice the place is when I walk inside and take the elevator up to his floor. I sort through the keys on my key ring, trying to remember which one is his and eventually slide the right one into the lock, shoving the door open.

It's dark inside and I feel around the wall for a light switch before coming across a dimmer. Classy Ryland, always a sucker for mood lighting. I toss my duffle bag on his couch and collapse right next to it, turning on the TV to drown out the silence and reclining in the chair.

My phone rings in my pocket and I dig it out to see Niall's name flashing on the screen.

"Yes?" I ask into the phone.

"Did you go to Normandy?" He whispers.

"No, I'm at Ryland's place, gotta train and rest up without tiptoeing around Jess all day." I sigh.

"Alright, well Ryland wants me to come help set up and I don't want to leave Jess in the house by herself, that's rude right?" He asks.

"Yeah, that'll probably piss her off," I think aloud, "Why doesn't she just go out with Louis and Sam, where are they?"

"I don't know, they disappeared!"

I roll my eyes and sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose as I stand up from the couch. Why am I even worried about this? I should leave her ass there all by herself, what do I care?

"She's fine, Nate. Tell her you have class and leave, she can take care of herself."

"Okay, if she yells at me I'm blaming you."

He hangs up and I collapse against the couch again, my eyes drifting to the black punching bag in the next room. I reluctantly get up from my comfortable position and grab my duffle bag, unzipping it and searching for my tape.

I drag my shirt over my head, something I haven't been able to do for the entirety of Jess' stay other than in the comfort of the shower. It feels good as I start to wrap my hands with the tape and make my way over to the bag. As soon as my fist hits it for the first time, my adrenaline is through the roof. A smirk finds its way onto my lips and suddenly I can't wait to the same thing to Davis' face.

JESS

"Hey, I've gotta get to class, are you gonna be okay by yourself?" Niall asks, emerging from his bedroom fully dressed in light wash jeans and a white tshirt.

"Yeah I'll be fine." I say lightly, trying my best to assure myself.

"Okay, I'm sure Louis and Sam will be back soon to keep you company." He smiles, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door.

I watch him walk out the front door before I realize there isn't another car in the driveway. He turns to the right at the end of the driveway and starts walking. I know campus is at least two miles away from here, probably three, what is he thinking walking there. If I had my car I would give him a ride. What was Harry thinking leaving without him?

I stand up from the couch, now alone in the unfamiliar apartment. The silence is deafening despite the TV playing quietly and I decide as I look around that the place could use some cleaning up. I wipe down the counters in the kitchen and wash up the few dishes in the sink from breakfast. I go searching for the vacuum in the many closets around the apartment and find it sat in the corner of the laundry room.

At least three of Harry's dress shirts hanging up need a good ironing so I plug in the iron while I vacuum the kitchen and living room. I take out the load of clothes from the dryer and fold them, finding it easier than I thought it would be to distinguish Niall's clothes from Harry's. While Harry's wardrobe is full of black shirts with band names and acid wash jeans, Niall's is that of a Hollister model, multicolored chinos and pacsun tshirts.

I smile to myself as I distribute their clothes, putting Harry's away for him in his drawers and laying Niall's out on his bed so he can do so himself. While I'm putting away his socks I find myself taking a pair out for myself and putting them on my feet. My eyes drift to his closet and I grab one of his plain black hoodies and throw it over my head. I drag out the ironing board and press his button-down shirts as well as two pair of slacks from the wash before hanging them back up and putting away the iron.

When I look back to the clock, it's already four thirty. I open up the fridge to see just what there is to eat and come across plenty of deli meat and cheese to make a sandwich. Harry must have gone shopping. I take my sandwich to the counter and eat as I watch some rerun episode of house hunters on HGTV, not bothering to change the channel.

When I'm finished I clean up my mess and start a load of laundry for myself before tidying up Harry's room and making his bed. I try not to relax into his jacket too much, but I do allow myself the luxury of surrounding myself in the scent of him.

I walk back out to the living room hoping that someone will walk through the door any minute now and save me from going crazy in this empty apartment. I always thought I was okay at being alone but as I'm sitting on the couch with my fingers itching to dial Harry's number, I know that I'm anything but okay.

HARRY

Sweat is pouring down my back when the door to Ryland's apartment shoves open and none other than Ryland himself steps inside. He laughs when he sees me, moving to the bottle of whiskey he keeps on the coffee table and pouring a glass.

"It's only five o'clock, wouldn't get that adrenaline pumping just yet, kid." He chuckles, coming to stand beside me.

"I'm out of it, haven't been able to get on the bag all week." I say breathlessly, my chest heaving.

He looks at me, expecting me to explain as he moves to the kitchen, grabbing the bags he dropped on the counter after coming in.

"The heat is out in Sam's building so she's staying with me and Louis and Niall." I say, following him.

"And? What does it matter?" He shrugs.

"She brought Jess with her." I sigh, collapsing into the barstool as he unpacks the bags.

His eyes meet mine with a wicked look, his lips curl in that way that they do when he's thinking something mischievous.

"Jess, that's the girl from the party?" He asks, turning to me, "The one you almost ripped my head off over?"

I shake my head, knowing I shouldn't have said anything. What the fuck was I thinking and how could I forget so quickly about that incident.

"Yeah," I quip, "Her."

"You don't want her to know that you beat people to a pulp for a living?" He laughs.

"Maybe."

"You're not actually serious about this girl, are you?" He laughs, looking to gauge my face, "If she's staying at your place now's the time though, bag her and move on."

He claps my back and laughs, taking out four bottles of Gatorade and two red bulls. I grab one of the Gatorades and twist it open, chugging half of it down in a few gulps.

"I've got pasta in the fridge I want it all gone before you go," He says before turning back to me as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "Maybe I should have invited Jess, if you're willing to give me a bloody nose for talking to her I can't imagine the damage you could do to Davis if he was left alone in a room with her."

As soon as the words come out of his mouth my hand tightens around the bottle of Gatorade in my hand, crushing the plastic. I grit my jaw and painfully smile, nodding along as if it's all some joke but the sickness in my stomach stays.

JESS

I awake from a nap I didn't plan on taking when the door shoves open and Louis and Sam come bursting inside, groping each other as they fumble through the apartment to get to Louis' room. I briefly entertain the idea of asking them to hangout with me but the last thing I want to be around here is a nuisance.

I look at the clock to see it reading seven o'clock. Where the hell is Niall? He can't still be in class. Where is Harry? The office closed two hours ago and he's never been one to stay late. Maybe there was another meeting.

I stand from the couch and check my phone to see multiple messages from Luke asking to hang out. I realize I totally forgot about Luke for the past couple hours of boredom and mentally slap myself. I text him back as fast as my fingers will type, assuring him that I can meet him for dinner in an hour. He mildly complains, saying that we should leave sooner than an hour from now, but I explain that I just woke up from a nap and he understands.

I turn on the shower and step inside, quickly washing myself, leaving my hair up in the bun on top of my head. I toss all of my dirty clothes in the hamper except for his jacket, I fold that nicely and tuck it under my pillow.

I dress in even more of a rush than I showered, shoving my legs through a pair of jeans and throwing a sweater over my head. I slide on my boots and let my hair down, praying that it's not as messy and frizzy as I think it'll be.

I hear him beeping outside and wonder how it's been an hour already but grab my purse and hurry out the door anyways. Sam appears around the corner in her underwear asking me where I'm going.

"Luke's picking me up, I'll be back in an hour or two." I shrug.

"Have fun," She sing songs, a smirk on her lips, "but not too much fun."

I roll my eyes at her and skip out the door, grabbing the tube of lipstick out of my bag and swiping it over my lips before I reach his car and collapse into the seat next to him.

"You look amazing." He smiles, boldly leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

I blush like crazy and hide my face behind my curly hair as he pulls away from the curb and speeds out of the complex to get back on the main road.

HARRY

"You almost ready to go?" Ryland calls from the living room as I'm drying off from the shower.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." I huff, drying my hair with the towel and stepping back into my jeans.

I walk out with damp hair and no shirt, shoving my feet back into my shoes and grabbing my duffle.

"Come on." I say simply, gesturing to him sat on the couch still.

"You're just gonna walk in like that?" He laughs, standing up and gesturing to my outfit.

"Yeah, I'm not here to impress anyone with my outfit choices, Ry." I laugh, throwing my duffle over my shoulder.

"Whatever," He chuckles, following me out the door, "when did your hair get that long by the way? I never see it down anymore."

"I don't know, haven't cut it in a while." I shrug, running my hand through it.

"Looks good," He nods, "You kind of have like a Fabio vibe going with the shirtless long hair look."

I shove him into the elevator as it opens up and he laughs, punching me in the arm as he presses the button for the lobby floor.

"Oh, come on, you so do!" He laughs, the sound of his cackling echoing in the small space of the elevator.

"Whatever, Ry." I laugh, rolling my eyes as I step off and head to the front doors.

He pats me on the back one last time before running to his car when he sees Brittany leaning against it waiting for him. She grabs him as soon as he's within distance and plants her lips on his, their kiss anything but what should be seen in public. I roll my eyes and climb into my car, tossing my duffle to the passenger seat and backing out.

I head to the Normandy building and come across the first checkpoint of ring members. They stop me as I pull up to the building, directing traffic away from the building parking so no one gets suspicious.

"Hey, hey, hey! No parking at the building you know the-"

The kid shuts up really fast when I roll down my window and he sees that it happens to be Harry "The Scar" Styles driving the car.

"Oh, hey Styles, sorry, go ahead." He says nervously, realizing his mistake.

I roll my window up and speed into the parking lot, shutting off my car and grabbing my duffle again. I walk in through the back entrance and Mack takes my bag off my shoulder as he holds the back door open for me.

"Alright, if you follow me we've got a storage room blocked off for you to change and get ready." He quips, walking fast through the corridors of the agriculture building.

He comes to a dark room where Ryland already stands holding my black and red robe and my gloves. There's no way he got here before me, he must have been going twenty over the speed limit.

"Glad you decided to show up." He laughs, tossing my robe at me.

I grab it and start shuffling through my duffle bag for my shorts as I kick my jeans off my legs. I kick off my shoes and grab my nice pair of trainers that I reserve for fights. Ryland excuses himself to make sure everything's running on time.

I pull my hair back up and drink the last of the Gatorade Ryland bought. He comes back in excitedly, holding my mouth guard.

"There's eight thousand riding on your ass, Styles. You're about to make some serious cash." He laughs, shoving my mouth guard in my mouth and helping me into my robe.

He grabs my gloves and shoves my hands into them, strapping them on tight and gesturing for me to get up and start prepping.

"Get your heartrate up, let's go." He says, tossing me a jump rope from my duffle bag.

I take it in my hands and start jumping, the feeling of my teeth grinding against the mouth guard in my mouth making my adrenaline rise all on its own.

"Now listen, it's a bigger crowd than usual tonight. All of our usual ring members are here obviously but Davis is part of his own ring, so all of his members are here too." He explains as he walks me out into the corridors again, leading me to the fight.

The sounds of screaming and cheering comes closer with every step and suddenly my adrenaline is through the roof. I meet Niall just before I'm out in the ring and he nearly jumps on my back out of excitement, hyping me up.

"Kick his ass, Harry!" He shouts, shoving me out into the ring just as Ryland shouts my name.

"The only fighter with a perfect record, one of the founders of the ring that made it what it is today, your king of the ring! Harry "The Scar" Styles!"

I walk out with my back to the audience as always, showing off my black velvet robe and its hand-stitched lettering that says, "The Scar" with a tiger shredding through the letters, last year's Christmas present from Ryland. Although I've always despised the nickname, it's stuck and everyone needs gimmick.

The shrill screams multiply when I shrug off the robe, turning around to face the audience with my arms in the air. I spot Ashlyn in the front of the crowd, flashing her tits, classy.

Davis walks out next without as much of an introduction. He even walks slow as he comes to stand in front of me and bump gloves.

"I'm gonna knock you out in the first minute, Styles." He spits, not even bothering with a mouth guard.

"Keep telling yourself that." I smirk.

"Where'd you get the scars?" He nods, gesturing to my torso.

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors," I challenge, bumping my gloves against his and returning to my corner with Ryland and Niall.

Niall squirts Gatorade in my mouth and tells me I've got this, but I already know that. He might get a few hits on me but there's no way he's knocking me out.

"Alright, Styles VS Davis, fight!"

JESS

Too soon, Luke is pulling into Harry's development and saying goodnight. He looks perfect in the moonlight and although we went to a much nicer restaurant than I was planning on, I had a good time.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" He says, putting the car in park.

"Definitely." I smile.

"How long are you staying with him?" He asks, gesturing to Harry's apartment.

"Oh, only till the heats fixed, then I'll be back in my dorm." I grin.

"Good." He nods, leaning forward until his lips press against mine.

I'm taken aback momentarily, the strong taste of wine on his lips from dinner. I reach my hands to his neck and gasp into his mouth when I reach to his shoulders for Harry's long hair. I pull away too quickly to see his bright blue eyes staring into mine rather than the dark green I'd been picturing when we were kissing.

He looks at me quizzically as I say goodnight and step out of his car, rushing to the front door and walking inside. Sam and Louis are sat on the couch watching a movie and Harry's shoes are still nowhere to be found next to the door.

"Are they still not home?" I ask curiously.

"Haven't seen them." Louis shrugs, wrapping his arm around Sam and pulling her closer to him.

"You're not worried?" I ask incredulously.

"Jess, they're probably with girls. Niall's been sleeping at Katie's all the time lately and who knows, Harry could have gone home with any blonde that walked into that tattoo shop asking for an ass tattoo." He laughs, turning around on the couch to face me.

His words make bile rise in my throat and I quickly shut myself into Harry's room and kick off my clothes. I grab his sweatshirt from under my pillow and throw it on without anything under it and shove my legs through a pair of his sweat pants. I put his socks on my feet and crawl into his bed, wrapping myself in countless blankets from the hall closet. I'm drowsy from the smell of him engulfing me as my phone buzzes over and over beside me. I look at it hopefully, waiting to see his contact appear on my screen but Luke's name shows up instead. I turn it off without replying and toss it back onto the nightstand, burying my face into his pillow and wishing he was here with me.

HARRY

I sit back in my chair in the corner, staring at Ryland through sweat dripping in my eyes while Niall squirts Gatorade in my mouth. My torso is covered in bruises, he got more than a few hits on me. However, Davis is looking a lot worse than me with a busted lip and bruising right eye.

"You've got this Harry, he's giving out, he was already slow and now he's tired," Ryland says, standing me up and grabbing me by the shoulders, "He called a break, not you, he needed a timeout not you, go get him. Be first."

He shoves me back into the ring as soon as Davis stands from his chair and trudges back to the middle of the circle.

"Need a nap, Davis?" I smirk, putting my gloves up.

"You know, I gotta give it to you, you can fight," He says, "but I'm still gonna kick your ass."

"We'll see about that." I laugh.

I send a punch to his gut, catching him off guard. He stumbles majorly, already breathing heavy as he comes back for me and I duck easily. I hit him again in the side and then the side of the head. He nearly goes down with the impact to his skull, holding his head for a second. He's bleary eyed as I start to lay into him, throwing out punches left and right. Jab, uppercut, jab, cross, hook.

Suddenly he's down and Ryland is yanking me off of him, still swinging. I open and close my eyes several times before I my vision unblurs and I see Davis' guys dragging him out of the ring with a broken nose and two black eyes.

Ryland is grabbing my hand and shouting, patting my back and raising my fist in front of the crowd but they already knew who won. My name starts in chants and becomes a roar over every other noise in the ring. I walk to the edge of the ring and raise both hands, living in it, gladly feeding my ego.

I grab Ashlyn's hand and pull her to me, pressing my lips against hers to which the crowd screams. I pick her up and hold her in my arms, not breaking our kiss as I carry her out with me to really sell the show. As soon as we're out of sight of the crowd and Ryland's yelling at everyone to go home, I drop her to her feet.

"You're not gonna carry me to the car?" She whines.

"You've got two feet don't you dollfa-" I stop myself midsentence as I choke on the usual nickname I throw around, "Just fucking walk, Ashlyn."

She whines again as she walks beside me, but I drown her out, taking my hair out of the bun and my gloves off of my hands. Ryland meets me at the door and takes the gloves from me saying that he'll drop off my duffle tomorrow with the money. I wave him off saying a quick whatever as I throw Ashlyn against my car and press myself to her, winding her hair around my fist.

We're at her dorm in no time with me speeding down the empty streets. I shove her inside as soon as she gets the door open and she collapses on the bed giggling. I undress her in seconds and kick my shorts off the back of the bed, leaning down to her. She tastes like vodka and smells like cheap perfume. Her hair is stringy and bleached, the force of her tongue down my throat nearly making me gag.

We're finished too soon, the night still young and I grimace when she asks me to stay the night. I agree despite wanting to be anywhere but here now that it's over. She cuddles into my sweat soaked chest and runs her hands up and down the art inked into my skin. My hair is sticking to me everywhere due to the thin veil of sweat covering everything around us.

She falls asleep way before I do, and I shove her off of me as soon as I'm sure she's knocked out. I turn over on my side and let my eyes fall closed in an attempt to get some sleep.

I wake up in a cold sweat with Ashlyn snoring beside me. All of the images of my nightmare still vivid in my mind. I get out of her bed as fast as I possibly can and shove on my shorts and shoes, leaving out the door without so much as a goodbye. Countless nights in a row with nothing, turning over a new leaf, and then it comes back with three times the force.

This one was one of the worst, the thoughts still lingering as I climb in my car and look in my rearview mirror to see my eyes still watering, dry tear streaks down my cheeks. I rub them away roughly and start my car, cursing everything and everyone for not being able to get a full night's sleep in years.

Until this week, this week I slept through the night and woke up to her by my side every time. No, that can't be it. It's not her, it can't be her. But even as I say it over and over from my trembling lips I'm turning onto the main road, so I can get home to my dollface.

JESS

I'm startled awake by the front door opening and then the sound of footsteps to his bedroom. He walks inside, trudging his feet and kicking his shoes off and then a pair of shorts to the floor. I debate between pretending I'm asleep and yelling at him as he throws a tshirt on but before I can weigh my options I'm sitting up in bed and turning on the lamp beside me.

"Where the hell have you been?" I ask as he looks at me like a deer in the headlights.

"I, I was out."

"You were out? You don't think to let anyone know when you're not going to be here until four in the morning?"

I expect him to yell back at me about how I don't need to know about everything he does and how I'm not supposed to delve into his personal life. But instead, he climbs onto the bed and sits up next to me in silence.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Now that he's closer I can see the sweat on his skin and the tear streaks down his face. His eyes are wide as he says it again and I hate it as every trace of anger I was holding onto vanishes.

"You don't have to apologize-"

"No, I do, I'm sorry dollfa-Jess, I'm sorry." He says, correcting himself.

He reaches for me, but I move away, unsure of what's going on with him. Who is this and what have they done with Harry?

"What is going on with you?" I ask him as his face falls from my rejection.

"Please," He says, his voice breaking as he lays down and lets his head hit the pillow, "Just let me hold you. No pillows tonight."

I can't decipher him as I lay down next to him and allow him to wrap his arms around me. He breathes out a sigh of relief as I wrap my arms around his waist. His breathing is nearly steady when I put my head on his chest, causing him to wince. I sit up quickly, hoping I didn't hurt him somehow.

"No, Jess, you're fine I just, pulled a muscle at the gym." He says, and I don't fully believe him, but I lay my head back down anyways.

"I shouldn't let you do this." I say after a while.

"Do what?" He asks, his voice groggy.

"Come in here and do this, after leaving me worried all day."

Silence. His hands reach around my waist and pull me closer to him. I don't put up a fight. His head dips down and nuzzles into my neck, I can feel his nose against the back of my ear.

"I said I'm sorry," He says, his lips brushing my neck as he speaks, "but you can't be that mad at me, you're wearing my clothes."

I shove him away, but he pulls me back, my head laying directly over his heart. I can hear it thumping in my ear. The drowsiness that's coming over me is nearly instant as I inhale the scent of him. The lines are nonexistent as I lay in his arms with his chin resting on top of my head.

"I did my laundry, I didn't have PJs." I say defensively.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dollface," He says, not stopping himself from using the stupid nickname this time, "I'm glad to know it's me."

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfic #one direction smut

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ktspree13 · 6 years

Text

Applesauce

You can also read on AO3!

Word count: 1679 Tags: domestic fluff, making applesauce, implied mpreg, thorki kids, it’s just cute I also sent the prompt of ‘applesauce’ to @mrhiddles, so here’s my version!! ;)

Thor sat perched on the edge of his comfy recliner in front of the TV watching the Saints playing against the Eagles, a garbage can between his legs and a bushel of apples at his side. Modi was running around the room, enjoying Thor’s short outbursts as Loki and Hela sipped wine in the kitchen. There was a fumble and Thor jumped to his feet, stomping the floor and shouting at the players. Modi stood next to him and imitated his movements.

“Thor!” Loki called. “Stop teaching our son how to be a barbarian and keep peeling!” Thor looked behind him and gave Loki a sheepish smile from where he stood. Neither sibling looked amused.

“Yes, dear,” he winked, enjoying the light flush that came to Loki’s face.

“Yes, Mama!” Modi replied, as well, squealing and running over to Loki to hug him around the legs. They were going through the painstaking process of making homemade applesauce for the year, and while it was a tradition, it was always an all-day affair. Two bushels of apples, hand picked by all of them, aged in the garage for a week, then brought inside to be turned into sauce. The three siblings had been doing it since they were young. Thor in the living room with Odin, peeling apples as the game played, Hela and Loki in the kitchen helping Frigga chop and cook. It was a labor of love. Sometimes Hela would help with the peeling if she wanted to watch football, but Loki was never interested. Always standing by Frigga, wanting to learn as much as he could from her about cooking. It was a mutual passion they shared and the family had always reaped the benefits. Thor was still reaping the benefits.

‘Homemade just tastes so much better than that store crap,’ their mother had insisted. And she was right about that. Thor could never understand why they tasted so different. Cut apples, put in pot, cook until they’re mush. The end. How hard was that to figure out? Thor watched as their older sister took another long drag from her wine glass. Hela had just finished ripping out a guy’s heart and asked if she could stay for a little while as she recovered. Thor and Loki welcomed her with open arms, of course. She had described it as her breaking his heart, but Thor was pretty sure she’d broken her own in the process.

Thor sighed and sat back down to watch the game, peeling the skin from another apple and placing it in the basket on the other side of the chair. He glanced outside briefly to watch Thrud chasing after Fenrir in the backyard, Hela’s giant wolfhound. His daughter looked so happy to have the giant dog to play with, and while it was starting to get cold out, Thrud had always loved that weather, just like Loki.

“Hela, you need to eat something,” Loki was encouraging from the kitchen. “I swear, Thor eats enough for five, but I still have some leftovers in here.” Ever since they were kids, Loki was always the one chasing after Hela. Always had stars in his eyes for his impressive older sister. Hela taught Loki how to paint his nails, how to wear a flawless face of makeup, which outfits would kill your targeted audience, and most importantly to her, how to guard yourself against the evils of the world. She taught Loki how to fight and how to rip someone to shreds with his words alone. And Norns help the world when they weren’t getting along.

“Leave her be, Loki. If she wants something, she’ll ask for it,” Thor called, distracted by the game and the apple peeling.

“What would you know, Mr. Popular?” Loki yelled back. Thor could still hear the sounds of dishes clattering and knives being removed from their proper places. Thor looked back into the kitchen, and true to form, Hela simply stood around while Loki cut up the apples, removed the cores, and stuck them in various pots to cook on the stove. His brother was a flurry of activity, always needing to put his nervous energy somewhere.

“I’m fine,” Hela replied. “Oh, but that pasta does look delicious,” she grinned.

“Oh, I was going to cook that up later,” Loki frowned. The two of them had bought some fresh pasta from the grocery store earlier and Loki had told Thor all about this amazing dish he wanted to try out. He had been looking forward to cooking it all day.

“Oh, what a shame,” Hela told him. Thor could hear the pout all the way from the living room, just waiting for Loki to cave.

“I mean...I could cook you something with it now. It’s fine…” Thor heard more things clattering as Loki moved stuff around in the fridge.

“Loki, leave it. That’s dinner,” Thor called. “Hela, cut it out. You know Loki was looking forward to cooking with that pasta tonight.” He peeled his last apple from this bushel and hoisted the basket of peeled apples onto his shoulder, carrying it into the kitchen. Modi was quietly enjoying a snack at the table as Hela watched Thrud and Fenrir out the window.

“It’s not a big deal at all, THOR,” Loki growled. “Hela should eat something. She’s going through a rough time,” the youngest sibling insisted.

“Hela,” Thor warned, shooting her that look that said, ‘I know this is all bullshit.’ The eldest sighed, rolled her eyes, then looked over at Loki.

“Just a bit of cheese and crackers will be fine, if you really insist on feeding me,” Hela replied. “The pasta will be lovely for dinner.” Loki took a deep breath, turning to look over at the both of them, then let it out slowly.

“Are you sure?” Loki played with his hands, a nervous gesture he’d picked up from their mother.

“Yes. The cheese goes better with the wine, anyways,” Hela smiled, blowing Loki a kiss to appease him.

“Fine…” he mumbled. “Fine!” Loki moved things back around in the fridge, pulling out Thor’s collection of fancy cheeses. Loki didn’t much care for dairy, but Thor could never get enough of it.

“Hey, those are—” Loki turned to glare at him, murderously, the cheese knife clenched in his fist. “...perfect for Hela,” he pouted, placing the basket of apples down on the counter and unloading them for Loki. When Loki had handed over a small cheese board with crackers and nice slices of Thor’s favorite cheeses, he turned back to his husband and gave him his saddest look. “Are there any more apples to peel,” he asked.

“There’s still a whole bushel in the garage, now don’t give me that look. You knew what today was,” Loki sniffed, turning to put the cheese away.

“Can I at least have a little cheese?” Thor asked, hovering over by the nice spread Loki had given up to Hela.

“Get your own cheese,” Hela scowled.

“That IS my cheese!” Thor grumbled, snatching a piece and shoving it in his mouth.

“You two are just the worst,” Loki sighed. “Modi, please do not treat your own sister this way,” he instructed. Modi giggled, shoving a piece of apple into his mouth.

“I love Thrud. She can have all my apples if she wants,” Modi smiled, bits of apple falling from his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” Hela replied, as Thor and Loki both aww’d over their son.

“Why don’t you take some out to her?” Thor smiled, going over to ruffle his Modi’s hair.

“OK!” Modi cried, jumping off the chair and picking up as many slices of the apple as he could. “Can Fenrir have apples?” he asked, turned to smile up at Hela. At this, Hela melted. Fenrir was her baby and anytime someone brought him up, she went all soft.

“Fenrir loves apples,” Hela smiled, bending down to place a kiss on Modi’s cheek. “Just not too many, alright, kiddo?” she winked.

“OK!!” Modi giggled, rushing over to the side door to go outside with his bounty.

“I still can’t believe you freaks procreated...twice…..” Hela deadpanned, standing back up and reaching for her wine. Loki colored with embarrassment. Hela was the only one they’d told about them, and her response had been, ‘what was wrong with me?’ And after a minute of very uncomfortable silence, her cackling laugh had broken out over the other end of the phone. Thor went over and hugged Loki close to him. He fought against it for a moment, but eventually gave in and relaxed against Thor.

“Hela, why don’t you help me peel the apples in front of the game?” Thor asked. Loki wrapped his arms tightly around Thor, sniffling a little. What they hadn’t told Hela yet was they were expecting again, and it was stressing Loki out the longer they kept it from her. But it was Loki who had also insisted it wasn’t the right time to share the news.

‘You don’t rub your happiness in someone’s face when they’re going through a bad breakup, Thor,’ Loki had hissed at him that first night in bed, when Hela came to stay.

‘If you get too stressed out over this, we’re telling her,’ Thor had argued, kissing Loki’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Loki replied, pulling Thor down for a quick kiss.

“Fine, I’ll help you with the apples,” Hela acquiesced. “But I’m not sharing my fucking cheese with you,” she huffed, carrying the food and the wine out into the living room. Thor smirked, pushing Loki back against the counter and claiming his mouth.

“Thor…” Loki protested.

“I love you,” Thor whispered, kissing the drying tears on his cheeks. “Our children are beautiful, healthy, and glorious.” He kissed Loki’s forehead. “Hela is just being herself,” Thor whispered, threading a hand through Loki’s hair and tracing a fertility symbol over Loki’s stomach with his other hand.

“Thor…” Loki breathed, closing his arms around Thor’s waist.

“Yes?” he panted, placing an open mouthed kiss along Loki’s neck.

“You have apples to peel.”

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super-marvel-imaginesxoxx · 6 years

Text

Unexpected Part 14

Summary: After a one night stand with the one and only Bucky Barnes, something unexpected happens, bringing the reader and Bucky together.

Buckyxreader

Warnings: Pregnancy themes, slight angst, extreme flufffff

Word count: 1,356

A/N: Once again, I am so sorry it’s taking me forever to update!!! I, however, really liked this part and I can tell you guys there is probably about 4-5 more parts left of the series. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

“Bucky, you’re the one who just got out of the hospital. I’m pretty sure I should be pushing you in the wheelchair,” you joked as he pushed you into the elevator.

He laughed and shook his head. “The closer we get to having our little girl with us, the more I don’t want you straining yourself,” he explained. “But, I guess one day won’t hurt.”

You beamed up at him. “Really? You’ll let me walk around for a bit?” You asked excitedly.

“Just for today. Don’t get any ideas to ask tomorrow,” he told you. You laughed and stood up. Bucky helped you balance as the elevator doors opened.

“Surprise!” The team and several other people yelled as you walked into the living room.

You jumped into Bucky. “Oh my god!” You exclaimed as you noticed all the pink decorations and presents around the room. ‘It’s A Girl’ banner was hung up and you smiled. “You guys didn’t have to throw me a baby shower,” you insisted.

Natasha and Wanda gave you a group hug. “Yes we did! The baby shower is the best part of the pregnancy,” Nat explained.

You laughed and looked at the other patrons. You noticed some ladies from your old work. “Hey! I didn’t think I would see you guys for a while,” you said to them.

Linda, the girl who’s cubicle was beside yours, just shrugged. “We weren’t expecting to see you at all. You just went completely M.I.A.” she said, laughing it off as a joke.

You forced a smile. “There we some issues and Bucky decided to move me here. Speaking of which, Bucky! Come meet my old coworkers!” I called Bucky over.

He smiled and walked over, wrapping his left arm around your waist. “Nice to meet you, ladies. My name is James, but please, call me Bucky,” he said, extending his right hand for them to shake.

Pamela, a girl who worked in the cubicle in front of you, smirked. “Oh, we know who you are. We were surprised when we heard little (Y/N) here went home with you. We all thought that she was never going to find someone. Like ever,” she laughed.

Bucky’s grip tightened a bit on your waist as heat rushed to your cheeks. “However, if you get bored of her, you can always give me a call. Which I promise will be sooner rather than later,” Kristina, a girl whom you never really talked to in the office, said to Bucky.

“Okay, stop,” your voice boomed. “Listen, I know we weren’t really friends at work because I didn’t really talk to you guys, but you guys were really the only people in my life. Which is why you were invited here today by my new family. If you can’t be nice to me, which I know is hard for you guys to do, then you can leave. I don’t need anymore stress throughout my pregnancy especially from people who I do not see anymore,” you snapped.

The three ladies looked offended as they made their way to the elevator. You took a deep breath and felt exhaustion take over you senses. “Come on, momma. Let’s sit you down before you pass out from all the excitement,” Tony said, helping Bucky walk you over to the couch.

Nat clapped her hands. “Well, now that all that drama is over with, let’s open presents!” She said, gathering the team around the couches. “Here! Open mine first.” Nat handed you a bag with pink tissue paper sticking out of it.

“Honestly, Nat. You have already gotten her so much. You did not need to get her more,” you explained, taking the bag from her.

She waved her hand in the air in dismissal. “I spoil Clint’s kids all the time. And besides, I’m really excited to finally have a baby in the tower. Let me enjoy this and spoil her,” she explained.

You laughed and shook your head as you pulled the tissue paper out of the bag.

__________

After several outfits, toys, bibs, and breaks for food and cake later, all the gifts had been opened. “Honestly, thank you guys so much,” Bucky said as he gathered the gifts to take back to your room. Steve began to help him as well.

Tony stopped him before he started walking down the hall. “There’s one more gift. But this wasn’t something I could wrap,” Tony said. You exchanged a confused look with Bucky. “Come on, I’ll show you,” Tony told you both, as he walked towards the elevator. “And bring the gifts.”

You stood up and waddled your way to the elevator as Bucky tried to help you as best as he could as he carried all the little things and Steve followed. You got in the elevator and Tony pushed the button for the twelfth floor. After a minute, the doors opened to show a short hallway with a door at the end of it with a big bow on it. “Tony, what is this?” You asked.

Tony gave a small smile. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?” He asked.

You looked at Bucky and he nodded, already walking out of the elevator. Slowly, your hand reached for to open the door. As it swung open, you held your breath. As you stepped inside, you took in the beautiful living room. It had a nice light brown couch that matched to two recliners to either side of it. The brown coffee table sat in the middle of the room, in front of an electric fireplace which was under a flat screen TV.

You walked further into what seemed to be an apartment. A kitchen was to the left of the living room while a small hallway was to the right of it. There were four doors down the hallway. The first one, you discovered, was a four piece bathroom. The second was a bedroom. The third was a master bedroom that had a connecting bathroom and a walk in closet that was already stocked up with both yours and Bucky’s clothes.

The last room was your favourite. The pink walls had clouds and several different animals painted on them. A white crib sat against one wall with a beautiful mobile with white sheep hanging above the crib. A wooden rocking chair sat in a corner with a pink blanket draped on it. A changing table and a dresser, both white, sat across from the crib. Everything looked like it belonged in the room. And looking at all the furniture set up waiting for a little baby, made the realization hit both you and Bucky that a baby was going to be here soon.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, tears in your eyes. “Bucky, look it. It’s our little girl’s room,” you told him.

Bucky gently put the gifts down and wrapped his arms around you. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “It is. Do you like it?” He asked.

You nodded. “I love it.” You moved to look at Tony who was waiting in the hallway. “Thank you, Tony. Thank you so much,” you cried as you waddled to hug him.

He smiled and kissed your hair. “Not a problem, kid. I just thought you and Bucky wanted a place of your own,” he explained as you let go of him. He smirked. “And I didn’t think the others wanted to be on the same floor as a crying baby. Plus, it was Steve’s idea. I just made it come to life.”

Steve smiled at you both. “Thought it was about time you guys had privacy,” he explained.

Bucky laughed. “Good call,” he said. He smiled at Tony and Steve. “Thank you, really. I know we can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us. But, thank you,” Bucky explained.

“We’re family, Buck. No need to thank us,” Steve beamed.

Tony nodded. “Anytime. Now, I’ll let you two get settled. Let F.R.I.D.A.Y. know if you need anything. Enjoy,” he told you both before he and Steve left your new apartment.

You looked at Bucky. “This is our new home,” you beamed.

“This is our new home,” he agreed. He reached his arms out to grab your waist and pull you to him. “I love you,” he whispered before he crashed his lips to yours.

“I love you too,” you giggled.

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#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark #tony x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #MCU #MCU fanfiction

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bangtangurlarmy · 6 years

Text

No Privacy || Taehyung

Requested

Pairing - Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre - Suggestive, Crack

Summary - While you and Taehyung are trying to attend to each other’s needs, his group members do anything but let you have some privacy.

Taehyung giggled loudly, like he was deeply intoxicated. And he won’t lie - he was. He was very, very deeply intoxicated, thanks to your perfume. You’d been smelling so good the entire time, at one point he couldn’t keep his hands off you, which brings the two of you in the current situation of tangled bodies, giggling voices, breaths mixed up in sloppy, meaningful lip locks.

You pulled him out of the elevator, thankful for the secluded hallway on the way into his dorm. “Are you sure they’re not home?” You whispered, tugging at his collar, bringing his mouth closer to yours for a kiss. He nodded into the kiss, “Very.”

His hand fumbled with the key, but got it in, unlocked it with your hands barely staying off of him and the moment you both entered you were curved into his body, his big hands holding your face in place as he kicked the door close.

“I need to bleach my eyes and get rid of my ears, what the fuck do you guys think you’re doing?” Yoongi’s stern voice was heard over the sound of your and Taehyung’s wet kisses.

Your hands instantly pulled back from under his shirt and his hand got off of your ass, both of you taking a wide step in opposite directions in sync.

“Well...that was a sight to be greeted with. Hello, Y/N, good to see you again...I guess.” Seokjin smiled warmly at you but you make out he was grimacing behind that smile. Then his eyes went over to your boyfriend and with a cold, steel look he blandly conveyed, “When you’re done, we need to talk, young man.”

You bowed respectfully. Although you were dating one of them, they were still your seniors. “Hello, everyone.” You almost flinched when you noticed the youngest’s eyes rested on you. As though taking notice of your discomfort, Yoongi threw a glance at him, “Jungkook, we’ve had enough indecency for a day. Leave the oggling for another.”

“S-sorry Hyung...Noona, you look...you look pretty today.” Jungkook bared his teeth at you in an attempt to seem polite and you saluted the kid for his efforts.

“We’ll just take this to my room, Yoongi Hyung.” Taehyung gave the older his signature goofy smile before grabbing your hand, getting ready to lead you into his room.

“Oh, not so fast!” Yoongi stopped the two of you, and right then you felt Taehyung’s boner press against your thigh. You had to bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing. Taehyung turned around with a frown, his eyes darting down for a brief second, hoping as a fellow male species, if not brother, Yoongi would understand his level of discomfort. But Yoongi only held true to his deadpanned face, “I don’t give a damn about that. You will sit in the living room, so Namjoon doesn’t have to come home to what we did.”

You groaned inwardly while Taehyung did right the opposite.

“Hyuuuuuuung, Namjoon Hyung isn’t gonna be home anytime soon! We’ll be done in-” Taehyung glanced at the clock, smirked a little and said,”-in 10 minutes.”

“Ew, you guys time your quickies?” Jimin’s face was contorted in that of disgust.

“Shut up, Short Pepper. Like you don’t.” Taehyung retorted, ready to pull you towards his room again.

You could hear Hoseok snorting, trying to hold in his laugh, when a slipper hit him right on the head.

“HEY!” Hoseok yelled, glaring at Jimin with the slipper in his hand. Jimin yelled back, “IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

“Shut it! And no, you’re staying here.” Yoongi pointed his finger to the floor to emphasize it further. “I’m putting my foot down, Taehyung. This is the third time this month!’

Taehyung sighed loudly, you feeling slightly embarrassed by this entire situation. And not to mention, awkward, too.

“Are both of them-”

“They’re both down!” Yoongi snapped before Taehyung could finish his sentence. So, Taehyung said nothing and lead you into the living room, making your cheeks blush brighter, as you found a seat on the recliner.

Barely five minutes had passed and Taehyung had already caught your attention, his eyes watching you suggestively, purposefully running over your body as you sat on the recliner. You adjusted yourself, mirroring him, not realizing sooner you were still among his friends.

“EW THEY’RE THROWING EACH OTHER BEDROOM EYES!” Jimin yelled like a kid, grabbing Yoongi’s attention. Seokjin’s head snapped towards you and you were visibly gulping, and if it weren’t for the show going on in the TV, they’d have heard the gulp.

“I’m just gonna- yeah, I’ll be in my bedroom, gotta work...bye!” Jungkook practically dashed in between the two of you and ran towards his room.

Yoongi was eyeing Taehyung, basically skinning him alive with his death glare when Seokjin simply sighed and said, “You know what, Yoongi, Tae’s right. Joonie’s not gonna be back anytime soon, so let them just...” Then he proceeded to waved his hands, gesturing to the bedroom.

Taehyung instantly got to his feet and grabbed your hand, and before Yoongi could stop the two of you, you were on the way to his and Namjoon’s room.

Right before you were pulled into the room you heard Yoongi scold Seokjin, “Hyung, you’re the reason they’re spoiled!”

“Shut up, Min Yoongi, you’re never responsible of your own hormones and I’ve seen that - firsthand!”

“Well, now that’s out of the way-” Taehyung started, finishing his sentence by pressing his body into yours, your mouth opening with a silent gasp when you felt his boner press onto your sex. You grabbed his locks, pulling him closer and kissed him ferociously, his hands trying to unbutton your blouse.

You had practically his shirt falling apart when a throat cleared loudly, making both of you pull away in alarm.

“Jungkook?!” You exclaimed, pulling a stuffed Koya head and holding it against your breasts. You could tell the image of you and his band member making out wildly had been scarred into Jungkook’s brain.

“Yeah, I-”

“Bro, I thought you were in your room?” Taehyung sighed heavily, his hand resting on his hip while the other pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“I had...something to get from in here- you’d borrowed my Bluetooth speaker and I- yeah I’ll just leave.” He mumbled the last part very quickly before darting out of the door, the Koya stuffed head falling on the floor the same time.

“Can’t believe you took Koya - I’m hurt.” Taehyung looked at you with a mocked sad face, his lips pulled into a pout. You rolled your eyes, “Not now, Tae. Do you just want to go to my place? The members aren’t home.”

“I think I’ve heard that somewhere,” Taehyung laughed, shaking his head. You began laughing too, trying to button your blouse back on.

“No, for real though, they’re not home. Let’s go.” You said, getting out of the room with an almost-defeated sigh. Right as you walked into the living room, Jimin exclaimed, “Well, that took less than ten minutes.”

“Ew, you time our quickies?” Taehyung’s voice was heard from behind you and you had to pucker your lips to pretend you were not actually trying to not laugh.

“Your acting skills surprise me, all the time, Y/N.” Hoseok piped in, taking notice of your face. You stuck your tongue out at him when Jimin’s snickering made you look at him. You pulled your tongue back in, wondering if it was something you did.

“Is...?” You frowned when Hoseok joined in too, screaming while he wheezed, “You lose! I win the bet! Gimme the money, now!” Hoseok began slapping Jimin’s back before collapsing on top of him, Jimin practically trapped underneath Hoseok’s body.

“What in all hell is wrong with everybody today?” Seokjin voiced your thoughts, watching the younger boys scramble with each other on the floor.

“Well, we were trying to figure out who would not laugh the longest.” Hoseok explained, as he drove his hands in Jimin’s pockets to possibly search for his wallet.

Yoongi had given up by this point already, but he was curious. “Why?”

“Did you guys even notice Taehyung’s face?! He's like a walking joker!” Hoseok screamed towards the end of the sentence before beginning to slap his thigh, laughing so hard with Jimin, you were worried his stomach would cramp.

“Why...what’s-” You turned around with a frown to be met with an equally puzzled Taehyung, when you actually noticed the smeared lipstick - your lipstick - all over his mouth. Yes, he did look like a walking joker. “-oh.”

Taehyung stared at you for a moment longer before letting his shoulders slump, like he knew what it was. In fact, he did.

“It’s your damned lipstick, isn’t it?” Taehyung said in a small voice, looking ready to bang his head on the wall. You nodded with pursed lips, diverting your gaze elsewhere. “Yeah, I...I must’ve forgotten to use the smudge-proof lipstick.”

Hoseok’s and Jimin’s laughter only grew louder every time they took a glance at Taehyung while Yoongi and Seokjin continued watching TV, indifferent to the hooligans rolling on their asses.

“Yeah...you must’ve. Let’s just go.” Taehyung sighed, his hand at the small of your back as he pushed you gently towards the door.

“I swear to God, Short Pepper, I’ll get back at you!” Taehyung yelled and right before the door closed shut, Hoseok’s animalistic howl of a laughter was heard.

The two of you walked to the elevator, pretty much not into the mood anymore and you wondered if he should come at all to your place. You were just about to ask him that when the elevator door opened and Namjoon walked out, stopping speechless in front of you.

“Yeah, I get it, walking joker, let it go-” Taehyung waved his hand but Namjoon shook his head.

“Taehyung, where the hell is your shirt?”

#taehyung x reader #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts fluff #bts scenario

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dcuglybooks · 3 years

Text

A short story collection featuring stories that are either mean and ugly like that turd that thudded you in school, or sweet and cuddly as a little gloomy kitten; or puppy if you’re more of a dog person.

Stories Christians don't have to read backwards. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08LGB4HGN/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glc_fabc_UIpaGb2VC4BBX

Here’s a free short.

WAP: WEIRD ASS PHANTOM

“There’s a ghost in this house. There’s a ghost in this house.”

Linda was getting tired of the shit. Every day at exactly noon her alarm would play this shitty overdubbed version of a Cardi B song. The original song wasn’t her cup of tea to begin with, this new version that sounded like drunk karaoke was even worse. Most times she would be sitting there and the sound of a drunk sorority girl would make her jump out of her skin. She couldn’t even find the song or alarm in her phone to do anything about it.

Linda and her girlfriend, Melissa, moved into this old house last month, the rent was so damn cheap; landlord said it was because it used to be a party house so he never charged much. The logic didn’t make any sense but at $300 a month and a mile outside of town, how were they not going to sign that lease?

“I think,” spoke Melissa one night while watching her phone float around taking pictures in the air, “the reason rent is so cheap is because it’s haunted.”

“You think?” Replies Linda while snatching the phone out of the air. “I just wish this damn ghost would stop posting pictures of our bedroom to our Instagram accounts. Did you see the caption last night?”

“Oh you mean ‘Pumpkin spice is almost here. Basic bitches, rejoice!’ The comma is what set me off. Why did she put a comma in that? Why bother? It wasn’t even used correctly I don’t believe.”

“We’re being haunted by a basic bitch.”

“I think that may be offensive.”

“I hear it all the time, it just...... yeah ok maybe. I guess I shouldn’t assume this ghost is a bad stereotype, I won’t say it again.”

“True, this girl may have more going for her than just these annoying social media posts from our accounts”

“Remember the mirror though?”

Last week as the couple were eating dinner they heard a clatter and crash from the upstairs bathroom. Running full speed ahead up the stairs and around the corner Linda saw all their makeup in a pile in the empty sink. She could see a pair of red lipsticked lips floating in the air while eyeliner was seemingly drawn onto the air in a cat eye shape. She sighed and said “What now?” These types of things had been going on since the first night so at this point it was old hat.

The lipstick went to the mirror and wrote “I am finally going to kill you.” Linda took a step back prepared to flee until the lipstick wrote below it “JK LOL YOUR FACE” and then the face floated off into the wall leaving behind the makeup like some sort of painting.

The first time anything strange had happened, a pizza showed up at the front door; delivery for an Amanda Perkins. The girl who moved out recently, they took the pizza because it was already paid for and assumed the girl had made a mistake. They were sure of this as they sat and watched old re-runs of home improvement and munched away; then they noticed the slice floating over in the air above the recliner and the chewed up pile on the seat. They screamed and ran outside, Melissa forgot her phone inside and Linda’s made a ding from inside her pocket.

“Hey I know this is really weird, it’s weird AF for me too. We can make it work though, ladies. I swear I won’t bother you, I already cleaned up my mess.”

They inched inside looking around like scared toddlers and sure enough the mess was cleaned up. After that they just rolled with the weirdness.

“Are you sure Amanda left, Mr. Morris?” Linda was on the phone with the landlord.

“Yes. Positive. Why would you think she still lived there?”

“There’s been..... some things.”

“Drunk college girl, she probably stumbled home one night and forgot she went home for the summer. Its no deal. Not big or small.”

“Are you absolutely positive there is no deal? Big, small, medium, or slightly larger than medium but not quite large?”

“What do you think? I know her ex and he killed her and then buried her body in the basement so now her ghost is haunting you. This is why I charge so cheap rent! No. I don’t believe what you think. I will be going.”

He hung up without ever realizing Linda never once mentioned any of that other stuff. Linda thought, Why does he talk like that?

Turned out that’s exactly what had happened. After doing a quick google of the ghosts name they found out she never came home. After a quick Facebook search they found her ex boyfriends page. After some scrolling they found a post that said “Amanda and I broke up again and I am going to kill her.” The post had six likes and four comments.

“Get her bro!”

“Bitch ain’t appreciate you anyhow bet!”

“U need any ting lemme no”

“Fuk gr8 ass tho. Mind if I hit her up?”

These people were insane. Did not a single one of these people see the part about wanting to kill her? Actually PLANNING to kill her.

The police found it interesting enough to look into it, they found reason to arrest the guy. After a long court trial Amanda’s ex-boyfriend, Brent, was sentenced to life in prison for murder. The body was exhumed and buried at a family plot. The rent got more expensive because Mr. Morris was in prison for helping cover a murder so his aunt took over.

You win some you lose some.

Amanda did not leave though. The ghost hung out still to this day four months later. The social media posts kept going. The pizzas kept getting ordered, only now from their pockets because Amanda’s parents closed her bank account. Amanda was irritated about that, she was cut off from her parents money and stuck living with two other people.

Linda and Melissa tried to make her feel as comfy as possible, they left a pen and notebook in each room so she could communicate with them. Usually the notes were always about how bored she was being a ghost and how if she tried to leave the house it got all bright and she started floating. Amanda was “for real afraid of flying” as she wrote on a notebook.

Amanda’s behavior got strange at some point. She began doing things like drawing stick figures on the bathroom floor in shampoo, she would wrap herself in toilet paper and roll down the stairs creating the illusion of her body disappearing, the worst of it was when she would lay in bed with Linda and Melissa startling them when she pulled the blanket. It was like living with an invisible insane person. Either her mind was slipping or she was just a strange character. She would turn the TV on and watch the same episode of “King of Queens” for ten hours straight while they were at work. They wondered what would happen if they deleted it from the DVR but didn’t want to face that at all.

The alarm kept going off too; Linda had to hand out awkward smiles and apologies when it happened at work or in public. One time she had to apologize to a middle aged woman when it went off in the cereal aisle while shopping and her son started singing the lyrics to the original version as loud as his voice would allow. The mother gasped at all the words her kid knew and knocked a shelf of maple syrup over. The bottles burst all over the floor, Linda tried to help clean it up but she was shooed away by a guy with a mop bucket and a face that said he wanted her dead as shit.

They asked her multiple times what they could do to get her to move along, to which she would always write “sno-cone” on her notebook with no explanation.

Linda woke up sick on a Tuesday and didn’t go to work, she came into the bathroom and seen a note written in lipstick on the mirror that read “Baby, all my life I will be driving home to you.” She blushed, Melissa had left her a really sweet note on the mirror. When Melissa got home she surprised her with a bout of some of the best sex they had ever had, despite Linda being sick she felt overcome with love for her partner.

“Wow. What did I do to deserve that?” Asked Melissa after.

“The note.”

“Oh yes. The note, got you good with that one. So, if it was so good mind telling me what it said?”

“You know what it said!”

“Of course I do.”

She didn’t know what it said. She had no clue, but she wasn’t going to raise a stink about what just happened. No way, no how. She got up and went to use the restroom, as she sat on the toilet she looked up and saw the words on the mirror.

“LINDA!” She yelled. “I DIDNT LEAVE THAT! THATS THE GODDAMN LYRICS FROM THE THEME SONG FOR ‘THE KING OF QUEENS!’”

Linda didn’t know what to say; she shook her head and internally accepted defeat on this one. The couple didn’t talk about it again, the ends justified the means on this one they silently agreed; thanks Amanda.

The trio had carried on life like this for months, seven to be exact, when they heard a bang and a crash from the front door. Assuming this was yet again Amanda doing some goofy nonsense they ran downstairs to clean up the mess only to find a man standing their pointing a shotgun at them.

“You’re the dykes who got me locked up, aintcha?” Said a freshly broke out of prison Brent. “You know, usually I’m cool with like loving whoever and like rights and like equality and shit but tonight is not your night. Go sit.”

They were tied together on the couch while Brent sat channel flipping on the TV.

“Amanda is still here,” spoke Linda “she’s a ghost, at some point she’s going to help us and you’ll probably get hurt. She’s probably posting pictures on Instagram right now so she’s a little busy, but I promise when she finds out she’ll come running.”

“No she won’t.”

“Ok? So you think her post is going to get a ton of likes then?”

“She’s afraid of me.”

“Ugh are you generic ‘I beat my girlfriend’ guy number seventy or not?”

“Not.”

“Then why is she afraid of you?”

“I’m bigger than her…… I guess?”

“She’s a ghost.”

“I’m still bigger.”

“How can you be bigger than an incorporeal being with no mass or weight?”

“See, she doesn’t way anything.”

“You didn’t think any of this through did you?”

“Not one bit.”

“It shows. Why did you kill her?”

“Hey I’ve never been what you’d call a planner. I killed her because she broke up with me for the fiftieth time that year and all my friends were giving me a hard time about how I would just crawl back to her. I said ‘can’t crawl back to her if I kill her!’ They all thought it was funny so I did it.”

“Ah………Makes perfect sense to me.”

“A guy has to watch his reputation, right?”

They sat there watching late night infomercials in silence for another half hour. Linda nudged Melissa as she seen a phone floating around taking pictures of a floating can of soup.

Of all the ghosts in the world, why was theirs like this?

“Brent, there’s some stuff on the DVR” Linda told him.

“Good I hate infomercials. Oh yuck, ‘The King of Queens.’ I hate that show, Amanda loved it. That fat fucking heifer guy gets to make it with that babe every night. Fucking loser ass UPS guy”

They could see the phone slowly lower and start hovering towards Brent. They let him rant.

“And that Deacon guy, what a fucking idiot, he leaves his wife at one point which is silly because she’s so fucking hot.”

The can of soup hovered behind him.

“That guy that dates the ugly chick from the bowling alley, now I can’t tolerate him at all.”

The soup can shook with rage.

“He ends up living with the other guy right? Like what the fuck? Are they like a thing or not a thing? I didn’t pay enough attention. I did pretend to though to get some action every now and again, show fucking sucks though. Here I’ll do you guys a favor.”

As he deleted the episode from the DVR the can came slamming down into his head.

Again.

They heard a voice yell “MY BONES ARE GETTING WEARY! MY BACK IS GETTING TIGHT!” As the can of cream of chicken turned Brent’s head into cream of Brent’s brains.

After the violence stopped the notebook hovered in front of them and said “Sorry, I was on TikTok, I’ll clean this up tho.”

Much like the first night that’s exactly what happened. They were untied and they watched as the mess was cleaned up. Brent’s body floated over to the ground and the can of soup was laid on the table. The phone floated over to Melissa who dialed 911.

After the legal mess was cleaned up they decided that having Amanda around maybe was not such a bad idea. No one could really kill them, it was like having a built in security system. They did eventually add a third line to their cell plan and let her set up social media for herself as a reclusive twenty something who couldn’t leave the house due to a skin condition.

Her pages were ok, they didn’t get much interaction or followers but Amanda was happy. Sometimes people would say they wanted to hang out with her because they lived close, Amanda just said her skin condition was contagious AF. No one ever thought to say “Hey, what exactly IS your medical condition?” People could be so polite sometimes.

Christmas morning as they all opened gifts Linda and Melissa cried as Amanda opened the complete series collection of “The King of Queens.” The three sat on the couch together that evening and watched all of season one.

Baby all my life I will be driving home to you.

The next day they heard a familiar song. Together they both smiled and thought that yes, there was a ghost in this house.

#horror comedy #horror novels #free short story #horror books

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