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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 3 years

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Reading through your wedding post made me so happy, but then I read about Falco's family 😭 Do you think you could write some of your headcannons of you and Reiner watching Falco for a week while his brother goes on a business trip or something. I can only picture by the end of the week that the house is full of the kids because none of them want to go home because Falco misses his brother and hes sad!! 😭😭

I'm so happy you enjoyed it! And that's such a sweet and thoughtful request how could i say no :( my god it sounds like the perfect comfort fic to write and honestly Falco deserves it💛

And the kiddos comforting Falco is a really adorable idea especially since he's the one looking out for everyone and comforting them most of the time, i can only imagine how loved he'd be by them.

Falco spending a week with you and Reiner

{ Reiner x reader | tw:deceased parents tw:neglectful parents | reverse comfort, fluff | modern }

{ "Tales of Enchantment" by Frank O. Salisbury 1874–1962 }

Around 5am, you and Reiner were waiting in the living room, each holding a cup of coffee. In the past days you got a call from Colt, asking if you can take care of Falco for a week, he sounded really apologetic and so you reassured him it's not trouble at all.

Apparently him and Zeke had a work related trip to a far away town, being understaffed in that town and all, the situation was dire and they couldn't refuse without their rating taking a huge hit not to mention morally too. But as a compensation, the company promised a higher pay to make their effort worth it.

You didn't notice the repeated knocking on the door till a couple seconds later, lack of sleep delaying your senses.

Opening it, you were met with an anxious Colt carrying his little brother in his arms, still asleep in his pajamas. Zeke from behind him carrying a couple bags and backpacks, he waved to you with a smile.

As Reiner took Falco in his arms and some of the bags too, you carried his Marvel school backpack and a list Colt made for all the things Falco needed and liked. He seemed to put a lot of effort in it, somethings in it you didn't even know yourself.

While tucking Falco in your bed, Reiner couldn't help but express his worry over Colt working himself to exhausting, both mentally and physically.

Yeah it was only a temporary thing till Colt graduates college and finds a stable good paying job, whilst taking care of his little brother as much as he can. He's been carrying Falco's responsibility on his shoulder since the funeral without a twitch or a complaint.

You think back to all the times you saw Colt, most being for mere minutes when he came to drop off the kids or pick them up just as his classes ended and before his shift at work started, barely having time for himself yet he chose to spend that little remaining free time on Falco and his friends.

You sit next to Reiner on the bed, gently brushing Falco's hair away from his face as he's sound asleep. He always looked up to his brother more than anyone else and would never let anyone talk badly about him.

It's like his own personal superhero.

"Do you think he'll be sad knowing he didn't get to say goodbye before Colt left?" You ask, still looking at Falco.

Reiner thinks for a moment before answering, "probably, but won't show it" he secures the blanket more around Falco, "sometimes I wonder who's more stubborn with showing their emotions, Gabi or Falco."

"I'd say Zofia wins the acting Oscar" you turn the lights off on your way out, "wasn't it for Udo, we wouldn't know how she's feeling half the time."

Around 10am, a very sleepy Falco merges out of the dark bedroom. Making his way to sit between you and Reiner on the couch, while carrying a blanket around him.

He leans into Reiner's hand when he strokes Falco's hair while you secure the blanket around him. Seeming unusual quiet, you and Reiner shared a knowing concerned look.

Offering to make him his favourite food for breakfast got a smiles out of Falco, Reiner even let him choose what shapes he wants his sunny side eggs as.

While he went to cook and prepare food, Falco shyly leans into your lap as if testing the water.

Please assure him it's okay to seek physical comfort from you, wrap your arms around him and he'll be embarrassed at first to ask to sit on your lap but will love it afterwards.

Just don't tell anyone about it okay? It's something his parents used to do when he was little.

When he heard about Gabi coming over today, he seemed to light up. While Udo and Zofia have weekend music lessons they couldn't make it till tomorrow.

While looking away, he asked if you could watch teen titans go with him.

The rest of the day went smoothly after that, Falco was a good kid in general and a really helpful and understanding person. He helped you both with chores and even attempted to cook pancakes.

While it came out burned, don't tell him that! He's really worried so please make him know you loved it and it was super delicious.

You and Reiner even took him to the dogs park nearby, he had pet so many good dogs till he couldn't count, even played fetch with one. After that you got ice cream on the way back.

When Gabi finally arrived, full of energy and enthusiastic about Falco staying over meaning she too will be staying over

All hell broke loose, it's like a switch had been flipped and the well behaved good boy Falco you know was completely weoponised by Gabi as she pulled him into her mischiefs

By himself, Falco is a good kid, well behaved, polite and responsible for his age. But with adding Gabi to the mix? They're a force to be reckon with.

You could see that Reiner was trying his hardest to deny that his closest cousin Gabi, was the bad influence on other kids all along.

You know? The one leading you off a cliff that your moms tells you not to follow? The rebellious kid with very strong opinions and the will to fist fight god? Yeah that one.

Apparently, no one gave Falco the cliff talk yet because he seemed far too eager to follow her to the end of the earth and down that cliff, he'd even jump hand in hand with her just to protect her from the sharp rocks under.

Gabi was actually looking forward to Falco staying over, since either way she'd spend a couple of days with you and Reiner whenever her parents are away or are too busy. She can't handle feeling lonely in the house, it's one of the worst feelings she's ever experienced.

It reached a point that Reiner gave her a copy of the keys, just so she could come in whenever even if you were at work. He too didn't like the idea of her being alone in a house all by herself, yet her parents didn't seem bothered at all.

But now she has a friend to spend the time with!

Falco was finding comfort in the fact that him and Gabi are currently in similar situations, while his was temporarily he felt better knowing he wasn't alone in this.

By the end of the the day, they managed to build a pillow fort in your living room. No one allowed to enter unless they're bearing offerings snacks

Around 10pm, when both of them fall asleep inside the fort. Falco hugging a pillow to his chest while Gabi still had a controller in her hand.

Of course Reiner took some pictures, how could he not? Especially with the way Falco's fingers were tangled with Gabi's as she had cookie crumbs around her mouth.

He also sent it to the groupchat Zeke made, reassuring Colt that Falco is having the time of his life whilst also sharing their adorable cousins with the rest of his friends.

The week went by faster than anyone could notice, good times always fly fast eh?

Each morning you and Reiner would walk Falco to the school bus before watching him sit next to Udo, sending him off with packed lunch and waving as the bus went away.

After school the rest of the kiddos will come with him home, keeping him company and helping him with homework too. They'd make sure to play Videgames right after.

Porco actually took over the duty of taking Zofia and Udo back to their houses, let's just say their mothers didn't like him at all, but reluctantly agreed after Reiner assured them he's a close family friend.

Each day around 6pm, Colt would video call him on his work break, sometimes with Zeke and other times alone. Falco would tell him about his day and Colt would praise him for all the good work he's done, he'd even share stories of his own and remind him to brush his teeth and eat his vegetables.

After each call, Falco will be noticeably more...down. can you blame him? He really misses him brother.

Sit next to him and hug him close please, he really needs it but he can't bring himself to ask for it. Soothe away his worries and don't mention it if his eyes start watering, just pull him against your chest and let him cry his heart out.

On nights he's particularly sad, he'd sneak into your bedroom to sleep between you and Reiner. It's something he used to do back when he was little, he can't help but miss his parents.

It makes him feel safe so make sure to keep a space for him in there always.

Please stroke his hair till he falls asleep like his mother used to do each night, and let him lean against you while watching cartoons like his father did.

You also noticed how...dotting the kiddos are around him during these times.

Gabi is more gentle with him, even willing to play the games he wants instead of hers. She always teams up with him and her words whenever they win make him smile.

Zofia shares her food with him, something so scarce. She gives up her turn on the tv for him and even defends his choice in what to watch if the others complain.

Udo is the one making him space on the school bus and walking with him home too. Helping him with his homework and holding his hand whenever he seemed to get sad.

Udo and Falco are a great emotional support to each other, they're not afraid to speak about their emotions to the other.

And naturally they're the most comforting, with Zofia botteling up her own emotions and Gabi wrestling through it, it's the two of them who work as the group emotional support backbone.

Reiner couldn't stop talking to you about how proud he is of Udo when he saw him comforting Falco these days, you couldn't agree more.

By the end of the week, the three kids were surrounding Falco on the couch as they played Mario karts.

Zofia was threatening to throw hands with whoever threw that blue shell at her making her last place, Gabi was too busy securing her first place spot.

Udo was leaving strategtic traps in his trail while in third place, making Zofia even more frustrated as she fell into every single one.

Falco was racing with Gabi in second place, attempting to push her kart or power through to the finish line.

When the black and white line came into view, Gabi and Falco's karts were separate by mere inches, both of them attempting to outrun the other.

And when Gabi managed to get a hold of the first spot for three seconds, a flying blue shell knocked her away. Making Falco the winner as he crossed the line.

To this day, Gabi doesn't know if which one of Zofia and Udo were the cause of her demise, but oh she will find the traitor and they will pay.

After that intense scene, they all shared a bag of cookies she brought from home! It was animal shaped.

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

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You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 3

I’m really happy that this has gotten some positive feedback, this fic is like my baby. Thanks to everyone for reading!

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It had been a week since getting out of the hospital and five days since the funeral. It was an odd feeling, and it didn’t make it better that it was a closed casket funeral since they had been burned so badly. It was probably for the better, that meant that the last time I saw them they were wishing me goodnight, smiling, happy, alive.

I wanted to try to get back to normal. Uncle Noah told me that it was too soon too. He said he wished he spent some more time at home with Stiles, but he didn’t have much of a choice being the sheriff. But life goes on, even if I wanted to go back in time if just for a moment. Maybe getting back to something I enjoyed would be helpful in coping. Moving into the Stilinski house had been only a little strange. I had spent the night here before, especially when I was younger and Stiles and I would pass out in the living room watching Power Rangers or Disney movies. The only thing that bothered me was that I wouldn’t be going home after this, I had my own room with new sheets, new clothes, and only a few things that had survived the fire. Uncle Noah had painted the walls a soft (your favorite color).

Everything seemed to be perfect, if you could even call it that. However, along with the fact that I lost practically everything, the person who took everything from me was still out there. Michael’s apartment had been cleaned out, his family was no longer in their home, they all just vanished.

I stared at myself in the mirror, fiddling with the locket that Stiles had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Inside was a tiny picture of us at a birthday party when we were kids, our faces painted like cats, cake around our mouths. I smiled and thought back to the hospital.

Uncle Noah left the room after giving my statement, leaving Stiles and I in the room.

“Just so we’re clear you do mean Derek Hale. Main suspect in the fire that killed his family Derek Hale.” He asked.

“Stiles, even if he did do it, why would he help me get away from Michael? If he was so crazy, why would he offer to drive me away? Why would he drive me to the hospital?” I sat up in the hospital bed.

“Maybe so he could murder you himself?” He scoffed.

“I highly doubt that.” I looked out the window. But what he said did bring up a question. Derek and I were in completely different circles in high school. He could have completely ignored me and gave me back to Michael. But he didn’t. He helped me.

I wanted to thank Uncle Noah for taking me in, so I insisted on making dinner tonight. To be honest, home cooking probably wasn’t standard at the Stilinski house. Some sort of pasta dish would probably be good.

After giving my appearance a final once over, I made my way downstairs. Stiles was on the couch, eating ramen noodles.

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the store, you wanna come?” I asked.

He looked up mid-noodle slurp, “Uh yeah, of course. You want me to drive?”

I scoffed, “So I can feel every bump in the road?”

“Hey, Roscoe is a smooth ride.” He defended his Jeep.

“I think that’s an oxymoron.” I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, “Let’s go.” I smiled. He threw out his noodle carton and slipped on his shoes. Interactions like this made everything easier.

Around nine, I was just watching videos on the computer, hoping that it would numb my brain enough to go to sleep. Dinner had been cut short because Uncle Noah got a call from someone and went out saying he would be home later. But that didn’t mean Stiles would go to bed, even if his first day of sophomore was in the morning.

“Hold it.” I called, not looking up from the screen, his footsteps were loud enough to wake the dead. I spun around in the computer chair, folding my fingers together, “And just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Stilinski?”

He straightened out his body, “Oh, just getting a drink of water.”

I titled my head, “Really? You’re not going to go get Scott so you can find the body in the woods?”

He squinted, “How did you know that?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s tapped into police radio?”

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “So are you gonna tell Dad?”

“Of course not.” I hummed, “But I’m going with you.” I stood up, zipping up my jacket. The outfit had already been prepared after the police radio chatter explained that there had been a body reported in the woods.

“(Y/N), I don’t know if that’s a good idea seeing that… you know.”

“I’m a big girl, Stiles. I can handle it. Plus, we probably won’t even find it.”

The whole way to Scott’s house was him essentially making me swear a vow of silence. As if he couldn’t trust me, he told me everything and I never tattled.

At Scott’s, I waited in the car while Stiles made his way to the front door where Scott almost took Stiles out with a bat. After some convincing, Stiles and Scott made their way to the Jeep.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Scott smiled as he got in, shoving his inhaler in his pocket. The smile was a sad one, something I would have to get used to. I was the girl whose parents were killed.

Close to the destination, Scott brought up a good question: "So which half of the body are we looking for?“

We both looked at Stiles who said: "Ahh, I didn’t even think about that."

"And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott added. This made me realize that maybe coming was a mistake. Michael was still on the loose, who was to say that this wasn’t another victim. And worse, that could have been her body out in the woods, or at least half of it.

“Also something I didn’t think about."

“Did you think about anything?” I piped in before we finally parked outside the main trails into the woods.

About fifteen minutes into our hike, I stopped to make sure Scott didn’t fall too far behind. He had the worst case of asthma I had ever seen, he couldn’t walk for very long without needing his inhaler. I knew how much he wanted to play lacrosse, but I really didn’t think it was possible.

Midthought, I was pulled down the trail with Scott by Stiles.

“What the he-” I began, but Stiles shushed me. The sound of dogs rang out in the darkness. Without thinking, I started running with Stiles, leaving Scott behind. Our running was stopped abruptly by a dog, who barked and snarled at us from the ground.

“Heel! Hang on, hang on.” Uncle Noah called to the officer restraining the dog, “This delinquent belongs to me. And so does this one. This I didn’t expect.” He looked from Stiles to me. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my behind.

“I was uh…babysitting.”

“Right. Babysitting.” He nodded along, very clearly not believing me. He looked back to Stiles, “Where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who?” Stiles asked, “Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted a good night’s sleep for back to school tomorrow. It’s just me and (Y/N). In the woods. Alone.” I elbowed his side at his terrible lie.

Uncle Noah brought up his flashlight, looking in the trees and called for Scott. When he got no answer, he put the light down.

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your Jeep. You too, missy.” He wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders, “We can all have a little conversation about the invasion of privacy.” I took one last glance in the woods, hoping Scott was okay. And if Michael was the one to do this, I really hoped that Scott would be at school tomorrow.

The next day was the beginning of lacrosse season, meaning the beginning of work. Around one in the afternoon, I made up my lacrosse bag and had a quick lunch and went out to my car. I opened the driver’s side door but I paused, having an eerie feeling crawl up my spine, like I was being watched. I checked my surroundings but saw nothing. Without another thought about it, I made my way towards the high school.

I made it just in time for lacrosse practice to start, Coach Finstock was on the sidelines. He had his usual look of discontent. I made my way to his side. He looked at me out of the corner of his vision, then back to the players making their way on the field.

“Is there any way you could She’s the Man this and be on the team.” He asked.

I held onto the strap of my bag, “That would be cheating, Coach. But I would if I could.” He patted me on the back.

“Good to have you back, (Y/L/N).” He blew his whistle, “Alright, gather ‘round, ladies. Let’s keep this short so we can practice and maybe get something down today. This is (Y/N), my assistant coach. If I see any of you hormonal monsters so much as look at her the wrong way, I will make sure this season will be hell for you. That means you, Greenberg.” After some more instruction, he sent the boys off on their way. Stiles waved at me before starting to run laps. Since it was the first day, Coach said that just sitting in the bleachers would work for today. To be honest, it felt like he was taking it easy on me, if that were even possible for him to do. I sat up on the bleachers, watching all of the players run. I did see Scott so that meant he survived the night in the woods.

“Hi.” A soft voice came from beside me. I looked up, seeing a brown hair girl had made her way to sit besides me.

“Hey.” I said back, she didn’t seem familiar at all, maybe a new kid in town.

“Come to watch your boyfriend?” She pointed to Stiles, whose legs seemed to work out of sync with his body.

“Oh no no, that’s my friend. I’m also the assistant coach.” I held my hand out, “(Y/N).”

“Allison.” She shook my hand and looked back out at the field.

“You’re new, huh?” I asked.

“Is it that easy to tell?” She chuckled.

“Nah, you just didn’t look familiar. Was your last school into lacrosse too, or…?”

“Oh uh, no, I came to see him.” She vaguely pointed in the direction of Scott.

“Scott? Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” I smiled.

“I know. He gave me a pen in class today, which was a life saver because I lost mine.”

After a moment, a redhead I knew all too well sat down besides Allison. Not that I knew her personally, Lydia Martin was just the girl that Stiles had been in love with since… ever.

“Are you the girl whose house burned down?” She asked. Her subtlety was immaculate. Allison, looking mortified, gave me an apologetic smile.

“Ahuh.” I shrugged, getting up from my seat, “I can’t really see the field. I’m gonna get a different angle. It was nice meeting you, Allison.” Before they could say more, I took the steps down to the grass.

“McCall!” Coach called, “Get in goal.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, “You think that’s gonna be a good idea? He’s never played goal before.”

“I got a feeling.” He said, also crossing his arms and calling the players to line up and make shots at the goal. I gave Scott a quick thumbs up. Coach blew his whistle, Scott grabbed at his ears like the sound was too loud. The player sidearm shot the ball at the goal, hitting Scott in the helmet and sending him on his back. I winced, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles had the same reaction. This might not go well.

To my surprise, though, Scott got back up and caught the next ball that came at him. The next player to come up seemed to have an angry walk in his step.

"Who’s that?” I whispered to Coach.

“Jackson Whittemore.” He looked back, enthralled in the fact that Scott was doing well.

Jackson Whittemore was the town rich boy and did pretty well in lacrosse from what I understood. He also had a chip on his shoulder the size of Mars. He whipped the ball as fast he could, it was impressive. But it was no match for Scott’s new goalie skills.

After practice, Stiles, Scott, and I made our way back to the woods - this time in broad daylight- to find Scott’s inhaler that he dropped. He mentioned that while he was out, he was attacked by an animal and got bitten.

“I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.” He explained.

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunched up his nose, “Like what?”

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” He motioned towards Stiles. Stiles looked skeptical but when searching his pocket did find the pack of gum.

“How many sticks left?” I asked, a little amused.

“Uhhh.” he sniffed, “Two.” I took the gum from Stiles' hand and opened it.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Two sticks.

“So this all started with a bite?” Stiles took back his gum, sticking it back in his pocket.

“Could this be some kind of infection?” Scott asked.

“I actually think I’ve heard of this. It’s a different kind of infection.” Stiles shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He gave me a side eye, I nodded.

“Are you serious?” He asked, getting more exasperated. We both nodded.

“Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” Stiles said.

“What is that? Is it bad?” Scott asked, the panic setting in.

“The worst.” I exaggerated.

“It’s worse about once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of the full moon.” Stiles sighed, as if this “infection” was terminal. The fact that Scott hasn’t gotten it yet just told me that he wasn’t paying attention during Monster Movie night. Stiles and I threw our heads back and howled towards the sky.

“Come on, guys, this isn’t funny!” Scott glared.

“Didn’t you tell your mom about it?” I asked, then realized how stupid of a question it was. If Ms. McCall had found out how late he was out and that he was in the woods looking for a body, he would have been grounded for sure.

“Of course not.” He shook his head. After that, the boys had walked a little bit ahead, still going on about Scott’s new super infection. I took a little more time looking in the bushes to see if Scott’s inhaler had fallen off the trail. The thing was bright red, it shouldn’t be that hard to find. While I searched, I zoned out everything else in the world. I thought about my parents. There was still so much that I didn’t know that they never got a chance to teach me. The last night they were alive, they had mentioned something offhand.

“(Y/D/N), when are we going to tell her?” Mom whispered, biting her nails. They spoke in the hallway, not realizing I could hear. Dad paused for a moment, then looked down at her.

“We’ll tell her tomorrow.”

I never found out what they were going to tell me.

The other thing that I couldn’t seem to get off my mind was Derek Hale. He practically risked his life to help me. If I saw someone with a knife like Michael was, I would like to believe that I would do what Derek did, but I couldn’t be sure. Besides that, I couldn’t get his face out of my head. It would be a lie if I didn’t think he was attractive. The way he looked at me with those dark green eyes. It made you feel a certain sort of way.

I looked up from the bushes I was searching and realized it was way darker than it had been and that Scott and Stiles were nowhere in sight.

“Scott? Stiles?” I called. No answer. What did answer though, was a flash of rain.

“Great. I’m lost in the woods, where there is a dead body. And even a murderer.” I moped out loud. I found my way back to what I thought was the trail and started walking. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and saw that it was completely dead. So much for calling in a rescue. Thunder roared in the sky, making my pace faster.

By now it was dark, just flashes of lightning making it easy for me to see where I was walking. I walked for what seemed like forever until I found a large house in the middle of the woods. The place seemed vaguely familiar. It was in disrepair and looked like no one had been there in years. For now, it would probably be better to wait out the storm and start walking when the rain ended. I pushed the door and stepped inside. It was still wet inside from the parts of the house that were missing, but in places where there was still roof, it was dry. I looked around, seeing something on the wall, partially burned. It was a triskelion with a name underneath. Hale. I was standing in the remains of the Hale house.

“What are you doing here?” A deep voice made me jump and turn around. Derek Hale stood in the doorway, a lightning flash lit up his face and for a moment his eyes looked blue before going back to their green color.

“I’m sorry, I just got lost in the woods and then it started raining. I-I’ll leave now.” I walked towards the door to go out again but he grabbed my arm tightly.

“Don’t go out there.” He said, looking behind him.

“Why?” I asked in a hushed voice. He looked me in the eyes, looking pretty terrifying frankly.

“You were followed here.” He said, making my blood run cold.

“Was it…?” I took a deep breath, “Was it Michael?” He shook his head, pulling me further into the house.

“No, something else.”

“Something else? What do you mean?” I asked, pulling my arm from his grip. He stopped and looked at me confused.

“Didn’t you smell it? Hear it?”

“Look, Derek, I know we never talked in high school and you barely know me, so I’ll just let you in on a little secret: I can’t smell when something is stalking me in the woods.” I looked over my shoulder at the door. There was a creaking sound coming from outside that was pretty consistent with walking. He glared out at the creaking, taking his jacket off.

“Put this on.” He held it out to me.

“Why?” I asked. Looking from the jacket to him.

“It will put my scent on you.”

“Your freaking what?” I raised my eyebrows at him. Maybe he was crazy. I was stuck in an abandoned house with whatever was outside with a crazy person.

“Will you just put it on?” He barked. No need to make a crazy man mad. I took the jacket and slipped it on. Like any other jacket it smelled like leather, but this had something else, a musky smell that would be very pleasing if the situation was different.

“Go out the back and run.” He started walking towards the door, “Now.” He didn’t need to tell me twice. I took off running as fast as I could out the back door and up the long drive way that connected the Hale property to the main road. And, like an absolute angel, Stiles appeared in his Jeep, stopping right outside the entrance to the overgrown driveway.

“(Y/N)!” He called over the rain. I ran to the jeep, got in and slammed the door behind me.

“Go, go go go go.” I said hastily, put on my seat belt and he took off.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?!” He shouted, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I didn’t charge it before going out in the woods.” I panted, looking over my shoulder to make sure the something Derek had been talking about wasn’t behind us.

“Whose jacket is that?”

“Derek Hale’s.”

“Why do you have his jacket?!”

“Listen, I could explain right now but apparently I was being stalked back there so put this thing in gear and drive faster.”

Last night after getting home, I explained to Stiles what happened. We both agreed that it did sound like Derek was a little crazy. But the fact was that something in the woods bit Scott and it was probably better that Derek had found me instead of whatever it was.

The next morning, everything should have been a dream. The whole situation would make more sense. But Derek’s jacket was hanging on the back of her door which meant that instead of encountering Derek being a dream, it was reality. Stiles would be in school by now and Uncle Noah was definitely at work, if he even left last night to begin with. Maybe a walk would take my mind off things. I got dressed and ready and was about to walk out of my room when I caught myself grabbing Derek’s jacket to put on. This jacket wasn’t mine, I shouldn’t be wearing it. I didn’t need to have Derek’s “scent” all over me but I grabbed it anyway. There was the possibility that I would see him while I was out since I had been seeing him a hundred times more than usual. I opened the front door, seeing Derek who was just standing outside the door.

“We need to talk.”

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Read part 4 here!

Part 3 down. And trust me, this part needed a lot of work from the “original” material.

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@nyotamalfoy

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic

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elai-okonma · 4 years

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Chapter 3. Our Father

chapter 3 is here! thank you all for your continued support!! Like usual, i’ll also post the link to my AO3

Summary: MC has her meeting with God.

Trigger Warnings: anger, death, etc..

Word count: 1,280

Celestial Realm:

When you awaken the next day, it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. All you've known for the last several months is the constant night of the Devildom. You make a mental note to take this opportunity to soak up as much sun as possible, before returning back. You get up off the bed and walk to the bathroom to freshen up and get ready for the day. You'll be meeting God today--the thought hasn't fully registered yet. With a deep breath you walk over to the closet and picking out some off the shoulder Celestial robes. You decide to adorn it with a black and gold rosary across the waist. Finished off with a pair of black lace up heels, you brush your hair and style it half up half down. The top half is a bun in which you stick a hair pin through. As you head for the door you stop to take a deep breath. A million thoughts rush to mind, but you push them all down when you hear a knock on the door.

"MC?? Are you ready for today??"

It's Elai. He opens the door and steps into the room. He looks you up and down, and smiles.

"You look amazing, MC! Are you ready to go??"

With a nod of affirmation. Elai takes your hand heading outside, flying the way to the palace where the meeting with God is to take place.

You hesitate before stepping into the building, nerves getting the best of you. When your breathing picks up, Elai notices.

"Hey MC, it'll be fine, I'm sure of it. I'll be out here when you're done."

With that, Elai sends you into the building, where you roams around for a bit before another Angel approaches. This one had short colored hair, and wore makeup that made him look a bit feminine. He reminds you of a certain singer from a Japanese metal band.

"MC?? Hello, my name is Kyo! I've heard so much about you! That look on your face begs the question as to how I've heard about you, hehe, lets just say I'm friends with a few of your Demons."

You let out a laugh and can't help but wonder just WHICH ones he was friends with. Probably Asmo--It had to be. His flamboyant nature just screams Asmodeus-- You reach a hand out and Kyo takes it and kisses the top of it with a smirk. Oh yes, definitely Asmo. You ask him if he knows why you're here, to which he responds with a simple smile.

"You're here to talk with Father, yes?? He's in the room down the hall to the left." Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, he disappeared.

Looking over, you walk down the hall and make your way into the room. When you step in you're immediately surrounded by light, a deep voice calling out from nowhere in particular.

"MC, it's nice to see you again. I'm sorry to hear about the circumstances regarding your death. I would've though that Belphegor got over his 'thing' with humans."

You become a little offended by His words. His thing with humans?? His distrust, and spite?? His utter hatred?? You let him continue--

"I know you want to go back. I know you love them and that you want to see them, but know this; should you choose to go back to them, to Lucifer, you are choosing to fall. Now, since you would have chosen to fall of your own free will, there will be no harm to come to you, and you'll still have good relations with us here in the Celestial Realm. But...you'll never be allowed to live out your eternity here. To choose Lucifer, and his brothers is to choose the Demon King and the Devildom. Though I will bare no ill will towards you, I cannot allow you to come back. You will also be stripped of your title as Angel and become Fallen. If you understand everything I've just said, nod."

You swallow hard, then give a nod, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Very well then, I will give you time to think it over. Think long and hard about your decision. The moment you give me an answer, it will be done. Should your choice be to fall, you will immediately be cast out of the Celestial Realm and you will not be welcomed back. But, if your choice is to stay, then I would like to offer you a personal place by my side, just as Lucifer once had. You may leave now."

In a flash of light, you're back outside. Elai and Kyo are talking among themselves when they see you lazily stroll up.

"Hey MC, what happened??" Asks Elai.

"He said that if I choose to go back then I'll have chosen to fall, and I won't be allowed back here." You state, teary eyed.

"That's outrageous! That doesn't even make any sense!" Kyo shouts.

Elai speaks up. "...What are you going to do??"

"I'm going to go back, of course. It breaks my heart that I have to fall to be with the ones I love, but I guess that's the price you pay when you love Demons." You're laughing now. "I mean, if they can fall then so can I! I'd fall for them, no questions asked! ...So why does this ultimatum hurt me so?? Is it because I've just arrived here and I already have to give it up for all eternity??"

Elai and Kyo look at you with sad eyes, there has to be a way around this. The situation makes sense, but it's a bit unfair. After all, you were murdered by one of the Demon brothers, it's not like you asked for this to happen. This isn't right. Kyo looks to Elai and the Angel already knows what he's thinking. Elai shakes his head at Kyo. The last thing they need is to fall themselves, for going against their Father. Kyo chimes in:

"I'm going to talk with Father. This isn't right. Don't you worry, MC."

Kyo turns to leave, giving Elai a disappointed look. This should be interesting. He thinks to himself.

___________________________________________

Devildom:

The brothers get up to go to school, for a desperate attempt at normalcy. Satan is nowhere to be found, and the house is filled with the growling coming from Beelz stomach. The noise is so loud that even Cerberus can hear it from the catacombs. Even though it's been just a day, Beelzebub already looks like he's withering away. Lucifer comes out and heads to RAD without saying a word. When all the brothers have arrived at school, Diavolo calls them in to the conference room. Once everyone is seated Barbatos starts:

"MC is ready for burial, her funeral service will be held tonight at the House of Lamentation. I do apologize for the last minute notice, but the damage to her was so severe that I couldn't keep her in viewing condition for long. If any of you would like to say something at the wake, then please have something prepared by this evening. I see Satan and Levi aren't with you?? Please pass along the message." Barbatos bows and promptly exits, it's too much even for him.

The brothers get up and head out to class. Diavolo also leaves back to the palace.

Solomon sees the brothers in passing, giving them a look of condolences, along with Simeon. They had heard what happened from Lord Diavolo earlier this morning. They were also heartbroken, but their level of pain was so minute compared to the Demon brothers, that they dare not say anything.

In class, Beelz stomach was making so much noise that he was sent home. He grabbed his bag and left, tears falling from his face.

#obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me beelzebub #obey me fanfic

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youngjusticeslut · 4 years

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Center Stage (Chapter 4)

Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power Characters: Adora, Catra, Glimmer, Bow, Mermista, Sea Hawk, Kyle, Perfuma, Frosta, Angella, Micah, Shadow Weaver Ships: Catradora, Glimbow, Seamista, Kygelio, Scorptra Rating: T+ Summary: A Catradora Ballet School AU AO3

Adora wakes up long before her alarm goes off.

First day of classes. Big day. Her phone tells her it’s a little past six in the morning, and a quick glance to the side of the room tells her that Glimmer is gone, bed unkempt. Carefully, she crawls out of bed, hoping not to wake Catra. Though judging by the girl’s soft snores, there’s not much to worry about.

Six am means she has two hours to kill before her first class. Two hours is plenty of time. Enough for a quick workout, a thorough stretch session, and maybe even a bit of breakfast. If her stomach calms down enough to eat, that is.

From her bedside table, she grabs her earphones and plugs them into her phone. Quiet as can be, she starts with a series of pushups, followed by crunches, bicycle kicks, and leg lifts. Three sets, rinse and repeat. It helps Adora work her nerves out, and lucky for her, Catra sleeps through the entire thing, unaware of it all. She takes extra time to stretch out her muscles, especially her feet. They’d be put through the ringer today, the least she can do is prepare them for what’s to come.

By the time she showers and grabs a couple of muffins from the cafeteria, Catra’s just waking up. She smiles, seeing her awake when she enters the room. Glimmer is still nowhere to be found, it seems. “Hey there,” Adora greets softly, trying not to startle her roommate. “Late start?”

“Not an early riser,” the brunette responds. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty. Still got about thirty minutes until class.”

“Shit.” As if on cue, Catra’s stomach growls. She glances away in mild embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” Adora says, tossing her a muffin. Catra catches it without missing a bit. “I came prepared.”

Adora tries not to relish the look of surprise on Catra’s face. Score a point to her, for being the best roommate ever. As Catra nibbles on the muffin, Adora rifles through her drawers, pulling out her black leotards and pink tights. Boring, but apparently the required uniform at Bright Moon.

She keeps her back to Catra as she’s changing, humming to herself as a distraction. At the moment, she doesn’t even remember the name of the song she’s humming. It’s a Spanish one, something Mara would sing most mornings as she made breakfast. The routine quells the little bit of homesickness that she’s feeling.

Once she’s dressed, she walks over to the mirror and starts to pin up her hair. By now, Catra’s finished the muffin and has also begun to get dressed. “Want to walk to class together?” she asks, hoping to continue extending the olive branch. She’s not great at making friends, but she promised Mara and Razz that she’d make a better effort at it.

“Uh, sure. I have to brush my teeth, though.”

“That’s okay, I’ll—wait, is that what you’re wearing?”

Catra glances up from adjusting the straps on her leotard. “Yeah?” She pauses, cocks her head to the side and gives a little smirk. “Doesn’t suit your taste?” Unlike Adora, she wears red, with nude colored tights. It looks far better than it should, and Adora can’t help the blush that tints her cheeks.

The question leaves Adora flustered, more than it probably should. It’s too early for this. “What? No. No, it’s fine. Cool actually, super— I mean…” She stops rambling and collects herself with a deep breath. “What you’re wearing is nice, but Bright Moon has a uniform.”

“Uniform?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you read the orientation packet?”

Catra’s face says that she very much hadn’t, but the girl shrugs it off and takes off the hair tie from around her wrist. “Whatever. It’ll make me stand out.”

“I don’t think it works like that. What if you get in trouble?”

The brunette pauses from tying up her hair, shooting a quick look at Adora. “Worried about me?”

Adora scoffs and crosses her arms. “I’m trying to save you from getting your ass kicked out on the first day.”

“They won’t throw me out. Trust me, once they see me dance, they’ll forget all about what I’m wearing.” Her words are strong, but something in Catra’s eyes doesn’t exactly convince Adora. It comes off more like a front, a facade to protect her. Part of her wants to call Catra out on it, but something stops her. Truthfully, it’s none of her business. Who is Adora to stop Catra from doing what she wants?

“Hey, it’s your funeral,” Adora ends up saying.

Catra finishes to tie up her hair, leaving it in a sloppy bun with bangs framing her face. It’s a stark contrast to Adora’s sleek, neat do. “I appreciate the concern,” she says with a wink.

While Catra scoots past her into their shared bathroom to brush her teeth, Adora checks the time on her phone. Class starts in fifteen minutes. She pulls at her fingers for something to do, resisting the urge to chew on her lip. They’re cutting it awfully close. What if all the good spots are taken by the time they get there? She really wants to show up early, scope out the other girls, make a good impression on the teachers.

“Almost ready?” It comes with a bit of a whine, and Adora mentally kicks herself. Now Catra probably thinks she’s such a goody-goody. It doesn’t matter, though. There’s no answer. “Catra?”

“Nearly done. If it’s getting close, go on ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll catch up.”

Permission granted, Adora grabs her already-packed ballet bag and slings it over her shoulder. She barely remembers to grab her room keys on her way out the door. Part of her feels guilty for leaving Catra behind, but she really doesn’t want to be late. Especially not on the first day.

Thanks to her strategic mapping technique from the day before, Adora is able to make it to class in less than five minutes. The dorms aren’t too far from this particular studio, and for that Adora is eternally grateful. As expected, several girls are already there in various points of preparing their pointe shoes. Glimmer stands off to the side, testing out a shiny pair of shoes. In comparison, Adora’s faded ones look abysmal. She really needs a new pair.

Adora takes her place in the center of the room, close to the barre. When class begins, she’ll be front and center; perfect for watching the teacher, and right up front to get her noticed. Easy. Almost too easy. Her pointe shoes are already broken-in, so she takes the time to prep her feet properly before slipping them on. No distractions today. She has to be at the top of her game.

Her nerves aren’t nearly as bad as they were on the day of her audition. Maybe it’s because she’s already in and the hard part is over. Or maybe it has something to do with being inside the gorgeous dance studio again. Last time she was in here, it felt like a dream. Today, it’s her reality.

“Adora!” Perfuma waves at her, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s your first day, how are you feeling? Did you eat breakfast?”

Any other morning, this amount of energy so early in the morning would have turned Adora off. She doesn’t mind it so much today. “Yeah, I got something to eat. And I’m fine. Excited for it to start, really.”

Perfuma places a hand on Adora’s shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. “Glad to hear it. No stress?”

“Not really.”

“That’s great! I’m sure you’re going to be amazing.” For some reason, Perfuma’s encouragement actually helps Adora feel better. She knows that she’s only met the girl a day ago, but there’s something really calming about her general demeanor.

Adora’s about to respond when the doors to the dance studio open. A flock of boys enter the room, and the excitement increases tenfold. Returning students hug and squeal and group together. Off to the side, Adora finally locates Glimmer. She throws her arm around a boy, who cheers and spins her around in delight. Following right after the boys are a group of adults. Teachers, she assumes, judging by their higher air and the way they watch the students interact. Adora recognizes Angella, Spinerella and Netossa from the audition. Angella holds herself at the front of the room, standing beside a dark-haired man.

“Good morning,” she announces, bright and chipper. The energy in the room immediately simmers down, and many echo the words back to her. “We are so pleased to welcome everyone to the first day of what I am sure will be a wonderful year.”

As she welcomes the new students, Adora scans the crowd for Catra. She doesn’t find her. Biting her lip, she attempts to focus back on Angella. Why is her roommate like this?

“You are our senior class, which means that this will be your last year attending Bright Moon Academy,” the man beside Angella continues. “At the end of the year, we will be picking the top dancers to join our company.” He scans the crowd, and offers a kind smile. “While I’m sure that all of you are incredible, this year we will only have room to add six students to the company.”

Six students? Adora clenches her fist in determination. She’s faced worse odds.

“Throughout the year, we will be observing you and your talents as ballet dancers. However, we will not make any final decisions until we see how you dance in the final workshop performance. With that said, we wish you all the best of luck, and advise you to make this your year.”

When Angella finishes speaking, the group claps. The door opens again, and Catra walks in, completely neutral, not a hint of shame on her face. The man beside Angella raises a brow. “So nice of you to fit us into your schedule, Miss…?”

“Catra.” She grins right back at him. “And no sweat.”

The class snickers at her response, but if Catra cares, she doesn’t show it. Adora sucks in her teeth. Late, again? Really. Is Catra actively trying to get herself kicked out, or does she just not care?

“One more thing before we dismiss you for classes. As you may have heard, the company gala is taking place this weekend. We always invite our senior students to attend the performance and help out at the party afterwards, so please plan accordingly. We do expect you all to attend,” Angella says. “Thank you all!”

That said, the teachers trickle out of the room and the boys bid their goodbyes before leaving for their own class. A dark-haired teacher remains at the front, hands clasped tightly. Catra catches Adora’s eye and gives her a wink, but her expression changes completely once she sees the teacher. That’s weird.

“You may call me Madame Weaver,” the woman continues. “In this class, we will be working on technique, sequences and formations three times a week. At the barre,” she instructs, giving no pleasantries. Needless to say, the girls toss their bags to the side and scurry to their positions at the barre. Adora already has her spot, and Catra manages to grab the spot on the opposing end. Their hands are inches away from the other. Adora’s not sure why, but it makes her nervous.

“Let’s start with our pliés. First position, demi, and stretch. Full grand plié and return. Port de bras forward. Full port de bras back. The same in second, third, and fifth positions, and then rise and take a balance in fifth.” She speaks a little too quickly for Adora to fully understand what she’s asking, but since she’s good at following along, she’s not too worried.

Madame Weaver nods to the pianist in the room, who begins the opening transition. To no one’s surprise, the girls move through the pliés seamlessly. Thanks to her rigorous stretch earlier, Adora feels nice and limber.

The teacher walks around the room with something to say about everyone. Mermista needs to relax her fingers. Perfuma needs to work on feeling the support from her center. Glimmer is complimented on her technique. Adora glides through the movements, feeling confident and waiting for Madame Weaver to no doubtedly comment on how wonderful her technique is.

When she gets to her, she pauses. “Your name?” Madame Weaver asks.

“Adora.”

“You need to work on your turnout. Without it, your dancing suffers.”

It’s not the advice Adora expected to hear. She looks down at her feet and adjusts her turnout, feeling less comfortable. “Better,” Madame Weaver says before moving on. As Adora continues her plies, she watches from her peripheral as Madame Weaver approaches Catra.

“You will be on time to my class and wearing appropriate attire. You would do well to remember that your place here is subject to my approval. Do I make myself clear, Catra?”

Adora doesn’t hear a response, but she assumes that Catra agrees, for Madame Weaver moves away and proceeds onto the next student. Something about her interaction with Catra unsettles her. It’s almost like they know each other. With a slight huff, she forces the thought out of her mind. She can’t think about that right now.

The class continues. They spend an hour on barre work alone. From there, they move on to floor work and practicing routines across the room. As much as Adora would like to admit otherwise, she struggles. She comes out of turns too slow and stumbles one time too many for her liking. Madame Weaver works quickly and she isn’t always able to catch everything she says. On the whole, she feels like she has much to improve on.

When class ends, Adora sinks down to the floor and yanks open the laces of her pointe shoes. Her feet throb and she just wants to be out of them. Lunch sounds good, too. The lonely muffin she had for breakfast is long gone, and she needs more than just a salad today.

“Hey.” Adora looks up to see Glimmer, offering her an apologetic smile. “Don’t let it get you down. The first day is always rough.”

It’s hard not to take her words personally, especially not after an entire class where Glimmer was the model student. She swallows any bitterness and smiles back. “I guess you’d know, huh?”

“Trust me, there are days I mess up too. Do you want to go have lunch?”

Adora slips into a pair of slippers and stuffs her pointe shoes in her bag before standing up. “Lunch sounds great. I don’t think I’m in the mood for salad though.”

Glimmer laughs and interlocks arms with her. The action is unexpected, but welcome. They head in the direction of the cafeteria, arm in arm. “Hard same. What are you thinking?”

“I could go for a sandwich. Grilled cheese?”

“Deal.”

In less than ten minutes, the two are in line at the cafeteria waiting to pay for their food. Adora steals a fry off her plate, nibbling at it to quell her hunger. “So, it gets better, right?”

“So much better. Weaver never gets easier though.” Glimmer chews on the inside of her cheek before looking off to the side. “She’s just very… particular.”

Adora remembers the short conversation she overheard between Madame Weaver and Catra. Note to self, stay on Weaver’s good side. Couldn’t be that hard, right? Glimmer seems to have figured it out. “She likes you, though.”

“I wish she didn’t. Believe it or not, I kind of hate being the teacher’s pet.”

“What? No way.” When it’s her turn, Adora sets down her tray and pulls out her student ID to pay for the meal. She’s so lucky that she qualified for Bright Moon’s scholarship program. Mara and Razz were more than willing to chip in, but Adora’s never been comfortable with putting more financial burden on them.

“Way.” Glimmer pulls out her card to pay for her food when she looks up and her eyes widen. “I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“Glimmer!” Angella meets them at the cash register, a stack of papers in her hand. “You haven’t answered my texts. How was your first class?”

Glimmer flushes in embarrassment and grits her teeth. “Mom, you’re holding up the line.”

“Oh, you’re right. Here, let me pay, Dear,” she says, handing the cashier her credit card before Glimmer can argue. Once they’re all settled, Angella walks with them toward a less crowded spot.

“Adora, this is my mom,” Glimmer introduces reluctantly. “Mom, Adora.”

“Yes, Adora. I remember you, from the audition.” Angella takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “It’s so nice to meet more of Glimmer’s friends.”

“Mom.”

Angella clears her throat, smiling bashfully and letting go of Adora’s hands. “Right, sorry. How was the first class?”

“It was good. Nothing to worry about. Right, Adora?”

Adora nods, quickly trying to swallow her mouth full of a couple more fries. “Yep! Just fine,” she says, hoping that Madame Weaver hasn’t already soiled her reputation to Angella.

“Good. I’m so glad to hear that. I won’t pry any more, you girls go on and enjoy your lunch, I just wanted to say hello.” Angella takes note of her daughter’s tray and rests a soft hand on Glimmer’s shoulder. “I thought we agreed on salads for lunch. We spoke about this, Glimmer.”

Glimmer turns as red as the ketchup on her plate. It clashes horribly with her hair. “Mom, I know. I promise, salad for dinner,” she mutters, unable to look at Adora.

The answer pleases Angella, for she pecks her forehead and lets go of her. “Good. Keep an eye on your phone, and call me tonight?”

“Yeah, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.”

“I will. Bye girls.”

Adora watches after her as she leaves before following Glimmer to where she’d hunkered down at a nearby table. Glimmer angrily stabs a fry in some ketchup before tossing it to the side of her plate. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she warns before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“Fair enough. My family can be a lot too,” Adora says, trying to make Glimmer feel better. “Was your dad the guy standing next to Angella this morning.”

“Yeah. I may have mentioned it yesterday, but they run the school and the company. My dad takes a bigger role in the company, and my mom the school. It works out.”

“Must have been cool to grow up around all these ballet dancers. You must have been able to learn so much from them.”

Glimmer nods, swirling a fry around in some ketchup before popping it in her mouth. “Something like that.”

As Adora digs into her grilled cheese, she notices Catra sitting at a table not too far from them. She talks to a girl with platinum hair and she looks… upset. The tall girl attempts to comfort her but Catra moves away. It seems that Madame Weaver’s words really got to her. “Kind of serves her right,” Glimmer notes after following Adora’s gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“Who does she think she is, showing up late on the first day? And breaking the dress code at that! Catra’s just asking to be kicked out,” Glimmer scoffs, taking a bite of her grilled cheese. She chews, mulls it over, and smirks. “Or maybe she just likes attention.”

Glimmer’s words don’t sit well with her. Adora crosses her arms and takes a shaky breath. “Look, I know you and Catra don’t get along. But you didn’t hear what Weaver said to her. It was… way harsh. Harsher than it should be.”

“That’s just how Weaver is.”

“I don’t think so. I’m not saying what Catra did was right, and I’m not going to sit here and make excuses for her. But I’m also not going to sit here and badmouth her.” Adora looks down at her plate. “That’s not who I am. Okay?”

Glimmer reaches for her hand. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Let’s just talk about something else?”

“Yeah.” Adora looks back in Catra’s direction, but the brunette is no longer there. Maybe she’ll talk to her later, see what’s going on. “So, about the Gala thing this weekend… Can you wear jeans to that?”

#she ra #spop #catra #adora #catradora #center stage #ariel's writing #spop fanfic #glimmer #angella #shadow weaver

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twi-sight2020 · 4 years

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Chapter 11, OH FUCK ITS MIDNIGHT SUN, and Why I won’t be getting in on that particular discourse this week

So first, brief bit of HOLY FUCK NEW TWILIGHT IN 2020! I’m prepared to go be trash, i’ve got this shit preordered, and will probably not leave the house till I’ve finished it. I’ve seen a lot of things going around about the ethics of giving SMeyer money considering certain sexist things she seems to endorse, her treatment of natives, etc. Frankly, i’m sue I could do whole post on this but right now guys....I’m tired. I got the new this weekend that my father was involved in a motorcycle accident and did not survive. the rest of this week has been a cluster of funeral planning, trying to figure out his estate, family drama, people messaging left and right and...you know, dealing with my own emotions on top of it all. So, quite frankly, I’m going to let myself enjoy this little bit of happiness and not bother being “woke “ for a few days. I’ve spent time being shamed for what i liked as a teenager, I’m not gonna be drug into that now as an adult. All that being said, it means I had to postpone my liver test and, considering the week I’ve had, I’mma enjoy my last week of not knowing and enjoy a nice sangria while writing this. Ok, enough me, I know what we’re all here for! _____________________ Today is movie day in class and Bella and Edward are suffering from serious repression, each doing there best to ...not touch the other, you know, in case being that close makes Edward want to EAT her. Like, really can’t wait for Midnight Sun, because if it’s anything like the bits of the draft she had on her site....wheeeew, Eddie really wanted to kill our girl. Like...Murder. Like he was gonna murder the whole damn class if he had to, alright? Boy was HUNGRY. So it’s no surprise the two of them have to sit close without...actually touching. of course, when he drops her off for gym, he traces her cheekbone and...damn if this didn’t seem pretty hot to me when I read it the first time, hell, even now it conjures up those butterflies of first love and how one touch felt like magic and took your breath away. Say what one wants about the writing in these books (and we all know it’s not perfect) but she does a good job of capturing how fucking overwhelming first love (and all those other first) can be. Mike tries to be a good boy and offers to be Bella’s partner in gym, despite the fact she literally hits herself in the head with a racket.... bless and I thought I was uncoordinated. Matt then says how he doesn’t like Bella being with Edward because ”He looks at you like...like you’re something to eat.” Even Bella is laughing at this and has to run off because it’s fucking hysterical. Like, bless it when poor humans have a moment of clarity in these books, because most mortals come off as hella dumb in this series. Like...maybe not as oblivious as the denizens of Sunnydale in the Buffyverse but...still pretty unaware. Edward meets her afterwards, and he is pretty pissy knowing what Mike is thinking...but Bella is more ticked because of the fact Edward was listening in in order to spy on her in gym class. She forces him to apologize and wants him promise not to do it again but...he counters by saying she can drive on Saturday instead. And she ...gives in. Dammit Bella, I was rooting for you to tell his ass off more, make him realize what creep he was being but...no, can’t have that, gotta get back to “A more pressing question” Which, is this case is just Bella wondering if he’ll tell her now why she can’t watch him hunt. Well, gee Bella, you think it may have something to do with how you’re the most yummy prey he can think of? Maybe? Just a lil bit? And, of course, it is. Edward lets her know that the hunt mean giving over to instinct...and that his smell would be leading the way. The two have a stare down where Bella...literally stops breathing? Like damn, I’ve lost my breath before but... girl...that’s unhealty. Edward walks her in and tells her tomorrow he’s gonna be the one asking the questions. Oh, goody, more about the human instead of the vampire, right? But it will be nice to know more about the main character. we live in Bella’s head, but that gives us very little input on WHO she was before the book. After all, I don’t spend every day waking up “My name is AJ, that not my real name, just a nickname, i am 29 years old, and I like YA novels because I’m trash, Comic books, because I’m trash, and I’m a crazy cat mom who drinks wine and takes lots of meds.” See what I mean? First person might give more insight to a characters thought process, but as far a letting us into all these bits and pieces, it can fall flat. She goes home, dreams of Edward, avoids answering her father’s questions about Seattle and the dance...and Edward picks her up the next day where he begins to question her. Her favorite color changes from day to day, but today is is Brown, because it’s warm and she..hates the green stuff that grows here. Wow Bella that uh... huh. Odd but, she’s a quirky critter. Apparently Edward has electric taste in music and has the..same CD Phil gave her(WHAT THE HELL IS IT?) and then we get...skimmed over all the things about books and movies that could have ACTUALLY gave her more personality outside Edward, SMeyerDammit! Instead we get her favorite gemstone being Topaz (his eyes) and how it would probably be onyx in a week. that’s uh...that’a bit much, but again...teenagers man. We get another quick run through of another movie day in bio, a gym class where Mike refuses to talk to her, and then...more question, most glossed over, though we do get a bit of insight on how Bella feels about her home in Arizona, how she finds it hard to describe why it is so beautiful to her. That i can understand. My childhood home, was not in a beautiful or glamorous area. It wasn’t the largest house on earth, it was very much lived it...but it’s the most beautiful place on earth to me. Because of the memories, because it was the place that made me...so yea, I get Bella here. And then we get the “It’s Twilight” line that explains the whole damn title of the book. It’s the safest time of day for them, blah blah, Bella likes nighttime even though Edward finds it sad and predictable... “Hello Darkeness my old friend...” Yea, sorry, whenever I hear that it reminds me of Edward. Then, Edward begins to act like a freak and bounces out of there faster than I preordered Midnight Sun. “Another complication.” he says. But what is the complication? Well it’s Jacob rolling up in there....with his daddy in tow. And Billy, Billy does not look happy, in fact, Bella is quite certain-from his look alone- that Billy 100% believes the “legends” of his people. Yea...Billy has a pretty good idea that the Cullens are straight up vampires... and he is not having it. And that’s where we leave off for the day. Next chapter we hit the halfway mark, so that’s gonna be an adventure. Till then, Stay Safe, AJ

#Twilight #stephanie meyer #edward cullen #Bella Swan #twilight reread #twilight reread 2020 #twilight chapter 11

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uas-fics · 5 years

Text

Chapter 2 of The One That Almost Got Away--But Came Back

Chapter 1 -

~~~~

Mr. Garrison looked down at his clipboard then began calling out names. After each name came a ‘here’ before the teacher assigned every student a partner. Everyone chatted between themselves as the fourth graders prepared for a Box Top reward field trip to Stark’s Pond.

When it came to numbers, Tweek had been one of the higher contributors to their class Box Top total. Plenty of the boxes and mixes at the shop had Box Tops on them, and his parents agreed to let him cut the tops out if he also broke down the boxes for recycling.

Finally, Mr. Garrison clapped his hands and announced everyone had to hold their partner’s hand on the walk there.

“You’re responsible for your buddy. Don’t mess it up,” Mr. Garrison reminded.

Token bumped Tweek with his elbow then held out his hand. As they walked down the sidewalk, Token chatted with Craig and Clyde in front of him. Tweek nodded and added his two cents once or twice, but remained quiet otherwise. Waiting at the crosswalk, Tweek looked at Token while he chatted.

He’d never noticed before how nice Token’s profile was. No wonder all the girls fawned over him. He was rich, had nice features, good hair, shiny teeth, and his hand was so soft and—

Tweek nearly stumbled but caught himself before anyone took much notice.

Token was holding his hand, his sweaty, dirty hand.

When was the last time Tweek washed it? Before or after recess? Could Token feel all the callouses he had from sweeping and mopping the shop? Of course, he had to! Token’s hand was so soft!

“Tweek?” Craig said. “Tweek?” He repeated loud enough to jerk Tweek’s attention from Token and his hand to the pair in front of them.

Huh?” Tweek asked, a twitch coming over him.

“Dude, are you ok? You look really red,” Craig told him.

“I’m, I’m...” Tweek looked once at Token, who wore a concerned expression. “I’m not feeling well.” With that, he let go of Token’s hand, turned towards the road and vomited.

~~~~~~

The lights in the nurse’s office buzzed as Tweek laid on the hard cot. His embarrassment made him pull the thin blanket over his head and wish he was dead.

The moment Clyde shouted, “Mr. Garrison! Tweek puked!”, all eyes turned towards Tweek, on his hands and knees, a small pool of stomach acid and ground up carrot sticks in front of him. The attention made him throw up the rest of his lunch.

Now the whole class thought he was gross.

Not to mention his parents would give him a lecture for getting sick and making one of them leave the shop.

The door open, and Tweek snapped his eyes shut.

“Just take a seat, sweetie. I’ll be back in just a second.” The nurse said. Someone walked and took the seat across the room and the door closed.

Tweak heard sniffing and dared to peek open his eyes.

Karen McCormick had a large scrape along her forearm and a bruise on her cheek. She held an ice pack to her face. Tears ran down her face. She didn't look happy, but this wasn't how she normally looked.

Kenny probably wouldn’t be happy if Tweek told him that Karen looked fine enough. Clearly, Kenny cared about his sister a lot. He deserved to know how she really was.

“Karen?” Tweek whispered.

She jumped and looked at him. “Oh, you’re one of Kenny’s friends.” She chewed her lip. “Kyle?”

“I’m Tweek,” Tweek corrected. “What happened?” He nodded at the ice pack.

Karen sniffled. “I got hit with a tether ball and fell on the blacktop.”

“Wow, that must have hurt. I’m sorry, but the nurse will have you fixed up in a jiffy.”

“I know. What about you? Why are you here?”

Tweak didn't particularly want to explain why he vomited or that the whole class staring made him do it twice, so instead, he explained he didn't feel well.

“A bell ache.” Tweek lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“I hope you feel better.” Karen grinned crookedly, showing all her front teeth, including the two missing ones.

“You and Kenny have the same smile, ” Tweek replied in awe. He blushed then stammered, “sh-shit! I am so sorry! I didn't mean to—”

Karen shook her head. She lowered her icepack, revealing a black eye. With her free hand, she wiped her eyes on her wrist.

“Mommy said that too.” Karen put the icepack on her cheek.

“You must miss him a lot, don't you?”

“Yeah, but it's ok. Daddy says Kenny's up in Heaven, and I'll get to see him again when I'm an old granny,” She reassured. “Until then, he would want me to work hard and be happy! That's what Mommy said, too.”

“Your mom is right. He does--would. He would if he were still around, I mean.” Tweek caught himself from spilling his secret.

Karen smiled wryly. “Do you think God would let Kenny come visit tomorrow? Mom is making his favorite type of cake for his birthday. It would make her really happy if he came to eat with us.”

Tweak blinked. Kenny's birthday was tomorrow? He hadn’t known. Kenny didn’t mention it.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure God would be cool with that,” Tweek replied. “But I think angels are supposed to stay invisible on Earth, so you might not see him when he joins you.”

Karen’s eyes widen. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Kenny’s, but a warm brown. However, much like her smile, she shared the look in them with her brother. They held the same wonder that Kenny’s did. No doubt they were siblings.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the nurse came in then. Her expression was tired. After quickly doctoring Karen's arm, she shooed her off back to class with a new ice pack.

As she dug through a tub of clothes in the corner, she said to Tweek, “Tweek, dear, your mother is nearly here, you can go sit in the office with your bag.”

Tweak did as he was told.

In the office, he found Kyle, Jason White, and Jimmy Valmer sitting in front of Principal Victoria.

Each of them was dirty and soaking wet. Jason and Kyle looked annoyed and cold. Jason’s nose bleed and Kyle had a black eye to rival Karen's blooming over his right eye. Jimmy looked like the cat that ate the canary, despite his busted lip. One of his crunches had a slight bend to it and the other was caked with mud.

“I can’t believe you three jumped in Stark’s Pond on a dare, then starting a fight! I expect better from you three.” Principal Victoria sounded exasperated.

Jason wrang out his shirt over the trash as Kyle dropped his wet hat to his lap with a plop. Jimmy just beamed.

“We didn't jump in! Jimmy pushed us off the dock on a dare then jumped in himself,” Jason corrected with a glare.

“Mr. Garrison never sa- never sai- s-s-s—didn’t tell us we couldn’t jump in the pond,” Jimmy remark coyly, as though he just found the perfect loophole.

“You all could have frozen,” Principal Victoria chided.

“It’s March,” Jimmy told her. “You can’t freeze in M-March.”

“Maybe not in your old school, but you can here,” she stated. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Principal Victoria ordered all three of them into her office to discuss the apparent fight.

As they ushered in, Jimmy caught sight of Tweek. He gave a friendly wave, that Tweek slowly returned.

“Feel better,” Jimmy mouthed to him.

Jimmy was so cool, Tweek thought. He was funny and smart, even if his lazy eye sometimes made Tweek feel like he was watching him when he wasn’t. The same wave of nausea that hit him when he was admiring Token came over him.as

Luckily this time, he was able to settle his stomach as he waited, head down, for his mom to come to take him home.

~~~~~

There was a funeral on Wednesday, so Tweek found Kenny just at the edge of his range, floating high up, trying to get a good view.

For whatever reason, Kenny could only go about ten feet in any direction from his grave before hitting a wall. The first time Kenny explained this in full, he demonstrated by pretending to be a mime stuck in a box. He even ‘picked’ an imaginary flower, smelled it, then offered it to Tweek.

As Tweek pretended to sniff the flower, Kenny impishly asked, “did you know flowers are a plant's junk?” causing Tweak to toss the flower to the ground with a blush.

Tweek watched Kenny for a moment from the tree. The funeral goers were slowly and tearfully clearing out back to their cars. It would be safe to venture over without anyone thinking too much of it.

Finally, Tweek cleared his throat.

Kenny twisted around.

“Dude, what are you doing here? You have work, right?” He asked, floating back to the ground.

Tweek beamed. “I barfed at school yesterday, and Dad won't make me work if I got sick the day before.”

He spun his backpack around to the front with an excited grin.

“Besides, I saw Karen in the nurse's office yesterday.”

Kenny came even closer, nearly invading his personal space. He bounced on his toes.

“How is she? Does she look ok?”

“She got hit with a tether ball and fell, but I think she is doing good otherwise. She misses you, and says your parents miss you, too, but she looked happy,” Tweek told him. He smiled sheepishly as he unzipped his bag. "She also told me today was your birthday."

Kenny blinked a few times then look to his feet with his brows furrowed. Muttering silently, he counted on his finger before his head shot up,

"Holy shit! Today's my birthday!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah! And I brought you a gift." Tweek's hands shook as he pulled out the brown paper Tweak Bro's bag with Kenny's gift.

Kenny's expression fell. He took a few steps back to sit on top of his grave.

"Tweek, I appreciate the thought, but I am not really..." he gestured down, "material enough for gifts anymore."

"This isn't material." Tweek set his bag aside then dropped down to his knees next to Kenny's grave. He patted the spot next to him.

With his eyebrows raised in curiosity, Kenny floated down, sitting cross-legged. If he had been alive, Tweek would have felt his body heat. Now he just felt cold.

"What'd ya get me?" Kenny asked.

Tweek unfolded the top of the bag. With an air of pride, he took out a thick magazine with a grey scale picture of a person with half their face covered by a purple crystal on the front.

"'The Free Artist'?" Kenny read the flowing script title. "Um, thanks. Fine art is really...cool."

"No, I mean, yeah, sometimes it is, but that's not what this is about." Tweek started to flip through the pages. "My dad got a subscription to this magazine so we could have it sitting around at Tweak Bros to make the place seem refined."

"Ok?" Kenny turned his head to the side.

"We keep this one issues at home because of this." Tweek turned the magazine towards Kenny.

Across the center page was a black and white photo of a woman, her leg bent forward, spine arched, and head thrown back. Her naked breasts pointed up as she held the only splash of color in the photo, a bright red apple, aloft.

"Wooow!" Kenny reached for the magazine only for his hands to phase through.

"I thought I could turn the pages while you looked. Almost the whole issue is dedicated to this photographer. It's full of pictures of naked people in different poses. I thought, knowing what I know about you, that you’d like it?"

He chewed his lip. A fancy-schmancy art magazine wasn’t the same as a naughty one, but Tweek couldn’t get his hands on any of those. This was the best he had, even if the photos were not meant to be sexual or erotic. 'A grand showing of the beauty of the human form' is what the photographer claimed in the short article, but Kenny didn't seem to care what the point of the art was.

“This is so cool, dude!” Kenny beamed. “You brought a whole magazine of elegant nudes, just for me? Finally, I can truly appreciate the human body like the true connoisseur I am, artfully and with highbrow intelligence.”

Chuckling that Kenny pronounced it ‘conn-o-sire’, Tweek flipped to the next page. This one had a man on his knees, bending forward so his shoulders nearly touched the floor. The color in this picture was a vase of flowers set by his hips. Tweek thought he looked nice, for a grown-up, and suddenly his stomach twisted.

He quickly turned the page. The new two pages were a spread of different gender models.

Tweek hoped Kenny hadn't noticed. but by the look he gave him, Tweek knew he had.

"Everything alright?" Kenny asked.

With a sigh, Tweek shut the magazine and slumped in in himself.

"Can you keep a secret? One you can't ever tell anyone, not even other ghosts." Tweek didn't look up at him.

"There is no one around for me to tell, Tweek," Kenny pointed out. When Tweek didn't respond, he went on, "Ok, ok, I promise. I won't tell a soul your secret." A pause then,"In fact, I will tell you one of my secrets in exchange. How's about that?"

Tweek chewed the inside of his cheek before nodding.

"Alright, deal," Tweek replied. He took a breath, held it, then let it out slowly. "My secret is I...I, um...I don't like girls."

Kenny blinked once. "Don't like girls? I always thought the girls and you got along well enou..Ooooooh." Kenny whistled a breath through the gap in his teeth. "You're gay, Tweek?"

Tweek flinched. He'd never described himself as that once, even if it was true. It was a strange unspoken vow he'd made with himself. If he never said it out loud then he wasn't. There was still a chance he was straight.

But there it was, hanging in the air between the boys.

"Yeah, I guess," Tweek finally whispered. "Please don't make fun of me. I can’t help it."

"Why the hell would I make fun of you? Being gay is fine by me." Kenny crossed his arms, looking up at the clouds. "It doesn't matter if you like dick or pussy...or both."

His mouth twitched and his face contorted for a second into an expression that Tweek couldn't read.

Even if Tweek could have understand it, he wouldn't have dwelled. A weight he hadn't realized was on his shoulders lifted and he felt so much better. His stomach settled and some of his background anxiety quieted.

"You don't think it's weird?" Tweek wanted to confirm.

"Nah, it ain't weird." Kenny leaned back against his headstone. "But now I want to know if your crushing on anyone in our class. If I was to date a guy, I'd date Token. Not bad looking and rich as hell. A perfect boyfriend." Kenny jokingly snapped his fingers for emphasis, making Tweek snicker.

"Yes, definitely Token!" Tweek agreed.

They spent the rest of their time just chatting like normal, but now Tweek felt more comfortable than ever.

The conversation started to wind down after Tweek explained his list of boys he had something of a crush on, or, at least, wouldn’t be against asking if he knew they’d like him back.

Currently, Jimmy held top spot, because if they dated, no one would dare make fun of them. Jimmy was much too popular and well-liked to be made fun of by anyone in the class. Everyone else would turn on that person in an instant. Then Token, for much the same reason, along with how much Tweek liked his profile. Then at a distant third, Craig since Tweek like how much he spoke his mind.

"You know," Tweek flipped the magazine page for Kenny to admire the next picture, this one a woman curled up on herself and staring at the camera with determination as a fat, green, frog sat idly on her knee, "you never told me your secret."

"It's not nearly as good as yours," Kenny told him as he read the article that accompanied the photo.

"I still want to know. It's only fair."

Kenny opened his mouth to speak when a new voice cut him off.

"See? I told you! That chubby fourth-y is here! I saw him when I was at the funeral."

Tweek felt his heart fall dead out of his chest and land in his lap as three sixth graders came strutting up. Tweek didn't know them well enough to pull their names out from his memory, but he did know they were bullies who loved to pick on younger kids.

"Whatcha doing here, fourth-y? Reading like a nerd?" The biggest one sneered at the magazine.

The skinniest one raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to get a better look at the open pages.

"Hey! She's naked!" He pointed. "It’s a pornmag! Fourth-y’s got a pornmag!"

Tweek scooped up the magazine and held it to his chest, eyes wide. Kenny glared at the sixth graders and told them to fuck off, even though they couldn’t hear him.

"It's not porn. It's tasteful." Tweek dug his nails into the flesh of his other wrist, trying not to shake.

"It has naked ladies. It's porn." The middle one declared, reaching for it with grabby hands. "Let us have it. Your fourth-y brain isn’t mature enough to handle boobs."

"N-no! Urk! It's not yours. Leave me alone!" Tweek felt his flight or fight response start to pour adrenaline into his system. He probably couldn't fight three sixth graders, but he was sure he could outrun them.

Before he could make his grand escape, the biggest one dove forward for the magazine.

Tweek stumbled back as the issue was ripped from him. His heel hit the base of a nearby gravestone then he toppled over it. Mud and dirty snow covered his back and soaked straight through his shirt.

When his breath returned and he could finally push himself up, he saw the sixth graders gawking over the magazine. The cover was torn and barely held together by an inch of glossy, crumpled paper.

Then he tilted his head up and saw Kenny behind them.

Kenny’s teeth ground together. His hands clenched into fists. His nostrils flared. A low growl came from his throat. Tweek had never seen Kenny this upset, even in life. If he was tangible, Tweek thought Kenny would rip the sixth graders’ hearts out.

Something that Tweek couldn’t understand tore from Kenny’s throat as he reached forward with his arms out in front of him, as if he was going to push the middle sixth grader. The moment his hands phased through his chest, the sixth grader bolted up straight. His eyes were wide with terror.

His breath came out in a thick, shaking cloud, different from everyone else's, thicker and flecked with ice particles.

“Dude?” The biggest one asked, prodding his friend in the side.

His friend didn’t move, only whimpered, “I...I...I...”

Before the sixth graders could do anything more, a familiar voice boomed towards them.

“Hey! What are you kids doing over there?” Father Maxie shouted.

“Fuck! Run!” The skinny sixth-grader grabbed the middle one’s arm. The middle sixth-grader moved like a statue that had just come to life, stiffly and clumsily. After shoving the magazine into his jacket, the biggest one pushed the middle. All at once, the middle unfroze.

He sucked in a gasp as Father Maxie yelled again. It took a second for him to register where he was, but when he did, he darted faster than the rest out of the graveyard.

Tweek stared at Kenny with his mouth agape. Kenny looked down at his hands, brows furrowed and lips pressed together. He looked up at Tweek, confusion written across his face.

“I...guess that worked?” Kenny laughed nervously, shoving his hands in his parka pockets.

“What in the Great Heavens above is going on up here?” Father Maxie ran up with his lips set in a frown.

Tweek tried to sit up, only to bite back a yelp of pain. He pressed a hand to his lower back, whimpering.

Father Maxie instantly stooped down to look him over. He peeled the wet shirt away from Tweek’s chilled skin to reveal the starting of a bruise.

“Oh, dear!” Father Maxie shook his head. “Come along. Let’s get some ice on that and call your parents.”

As Tweek left, he looked over at Kenny, who waved at him with a faint smile on his transparent lips, and Tweek’s stomach did a now familiar twist.

~~~~~

Tweek held a CapriSuns, both cold and fruit punch-flavored, in each of his hands. One he had tilted towards his face to sip and the other he carefully pressed against his back.

One of the nuns that Tweek recognized from Sunday school fretted over him, asking him over and over if he was really ok, if he knew who those boys that hurt him were, and if there was anything she could do to make him feel better.

Tweek repeatedly answered yes, he was ok and, no, he did not know those boys’ names, just that they were sixth graders. For her last question, the first time she asked, he told her he would like another juice to drink, the second time he timidly asked, “Do you know if I’m going to be in--urk--trouble?”

The nun smiled softly and stroked his head. “No, I do not believe you will.”

Feeling a sense of mild relief, Tweek started to ask for another juice, when Father Maxie came into the sanctuary. With a nod to the nun, he dismissed her then took a seat next to Tweek on the pew.

He put a hand on Tweek’s shoulder. “Hello, my child, are you feeling better now?”

“I think so,” Tweek replied honestly.

“Good, good,” Father Maxie said. He paused a moment and look at Tweek in a way that made his anxiety spike. It was the same look Father Maxie wore when he was going to ask the congregation a tough question that would make all the adults turn their gazes away in shame.

“Tweek, I’ve seen you go to the graveyard to sit by yourself quite often lately,” Father Maxie continued. “Is everything alright, my child? Are you doing ok? I am always here if you need to talk. You know that The Lord has many, many great plans for you in your future, don’t you?”

He gave Tweek a look so sympathetic, it boarded on pity. Tweek didn’t like that. He didn’t need a priest of all people giving him pity for being a freak and a weirdo!

Tweek scooted away and fixed his gaze on the stain glass window over the pulpit.

“It’s quiet there, not like the coffee shop. I like things quiet to do my homework and think,” Tweek lied, somehow keeping his tone indifferent with only his usual quiver.

“Ah, I see.”

Tweek didn’t think Father Maxie saw anything, but Father Maxie let the conversation drop anyway and changed to asking Tweek about how school was and what they were teaching nowadays in fourth grade. Tweek replied with the bare minimum amount of words he could until his parents came to pick him up

Father Maxie took his parents aside to talk with them a moment, just out of Tweek’s earshot. Tweek could only assume Father Maxie knew the names of the sixth graders and was telling his parents so they could talk to their parents —- which would lead to Tweek having his head shoved in a urinal until the urinal cake went down his throat.

After thanking the priest and promising they would try to put a little more in the collection plate come Sunday--Tweek knew that was a lie--the Tweaks drove back home.

His mom heated up some leftover spaghetti from the night before and placed it and a big glass of milk in front of Tweek, patting between his shoulder blades. She pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You’re my good boy, Tweek. I love you.” She whispered to him, before giving him a half hug around the shoulders. After that, his parents let him eat in silence. Maybe they were scared if they spoke too loudly, Tweek would vomit again.

As he ate, he thought about what happened with Kenny at the graveyard today. He didn’t know what ghostly powers Kenny used to fight back against the sixth graders, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that Kenny had used them for him. He cared about Tweek so much Kenny risked sixth graders to help him!

Ghost or not, Tweek thought Kenny was the coolest person ever.

Tweek swallowed the last fork full of noodles, then chugged the rest of his milk. Before he could ask to be excused, his dad leaned across the table and set a large, warm hand over Tweek’s.

“Tweek, son, can we have a word?” He asked as if Tweek had a choice but to stay put.

“Um, yeah, Dad?” Now Tweek started to nervously fidget with his fork.

“Father Maxie told us you’ve been spending a lot of time at the graveyard recently,” his dad started. “Why is that? Are you feeling alright? No one is bullying you at school? Are you happy, son?”

Tweek’s head spun with explanations he could give that would convince his parents to drop the topic, or at least make sure they didn’t stop him from going anymore. He wasn’t hurting anyone, so there was no reason for them to stop him, but still, the tone in his dad’s voice was cautious and strained, though Tweek didn’t know why.

“I’m fine. No one is bullying me. I’m actually really happy.” Tweek replied, but his parents didn’t look convinced. What could Tweek possibly say to pacify them without explaining everything?

Think, Tweek! Think!

Then Tweek had a terrible idea that he just knew would work.

~~~~~~

“You told your parents what?!” Kenny doubled over, holding his stomach. He wiped away a tear that wasn’t there. “Ok, ok, ok, let me get this straight. You told your parents you’re gay, and you wanted to ask me out when I was alive, and now you come to my grave to pretend to talk to me because you regret missing your chance?”

Tweek blushed. “It worked, didn’t it? Ack! I said what I had to. Mom and Dad were worried about me.” While fiddling to fix his shirt buttons, Tweek went on, “Honestly, I’m glad I said it though, even if it was mostly a lie. It’s weird having my parents know I’m gay, but they took it well. I spend the rest of the evening listening to them make plans for a big Pride event at the shop when June rolls around.”

Tweek laughed at the memory, joining in with Kenny. His parents had all but forgotten about their own gay son as they starting trying to think of new Pride-themed items for the menu or how much banners and flags to hang outside the shop would cost.

The most acknowledgment Tweek got the rest of the evening was his dad giving him twenty dollars and saying he hoped Tweek would be confident enough to come out to the rest of the town soon--since that would be great for the business.

Tweek and Kenny finally sputtered out with Kenny shaking his head.

“You know Tweek, I’m flattered.” He gave a cheeky grin. “Flattered to be your first one that got away.” Kicking his legs out, Kenny nodded. “Actually, I think I’m regretful, too. If I knew you were this cool when I was alive, I don’t think I would have minded if you asked me on a date.”

Tweek snorted and rolled his eyes, but on the inside, his heart did a funny little skip. For a moment, he tried to chalk it up to his anxiety acting up, as it sometimes did, but he couldn't lie to himself for long.

In one fell swoop, Kenny had usurped Jimmy’s option at the top of Tweek’s list.

“Yeah...thank you.” Tweek pretended to flip through his history book. “Oh, um, my parents also said I’ll have to start going back to my therapist, too. This morning, at breakfast, Mom told me she scheduled me an appointment.”

“Oh?” Kenny titled his head. “I’m...sorry? Is a therapist like going to a normal doctor? I hated going to normal doctors.” His face twisted in disgust.

“No, this is a good thing!” Tweek smiled. “I liked my therapist. He was nice and helped a lot, but I guess he helped too much. Since after six sessions, my parents thought I had to be ‘cured’ and made me stop going.” A sigh and he went on, “So it’s good to go back, but that means I won’t be able to come here as often.”

Kenny frowned for a fraction of a second before his cheery disposition returned.

“That’s ok!” he told him. “If this doctor is helping you feel better, I would be a very bad friend to make you skip appointments to hang out with me.”

Tweek buried his reddening face in his book. “Kenny, you’re really cool.”

Kenny blinked at the unexpected compliment then looked away. Was he embarrassed? Hadn’t anyone ever told Kenny he was cool?

Tweek refused to believe that, but lowered his book and repeated himself, “You are really cool. Way cooler than any of those jack asses you hung around with.”

Kenny fingered the drawstrings of his parka then tugged them slightly, closing the hood tighter around his face.

“Thanks, dude,” he replied in a quiet voice, not quite looking at Tweek, but just over his shoulder. Tweek was glad for that. If Kenny had met his eyes, he might have died.

~~~~~~

“You need to make some more friends who want to have you around and can appreciate you for you” is what his therapist told Tweek after the second session.

He suggested that Tweek join a sport or club, but Tweek didn’t feel like he could do that. Sports were a commitment and he had his job and chores to deal with. Clubs were too much pressure to deal with too! They had hierarchies where he would be at the very bottom!

When Tweek mentioned his fears to Kenny, Kenny tapped his lower lip with his finger for a moment, then suggested, “Print out a picture offline of something you really like, and tape it to your binder. Maybe someone else who likes it will try to talk to you.”

Tweek wasn't sure about that but decided to give it a try. He used a text document and made a collage of his favorite superhero, Sailor Moon, printed it, and put it in the plastic covering of his homework binder. While he walked in the halls, he made sure to have the binder facing out so other people could see it.

Unsurprisingly, Kenny’s idea worked.

At first, it was the girls who flocked around him. Some knew who Sailor Moon was, and some just thought she looked cool, but either way, Tweek happily accepted the invites to sit down with them and talk.

He even gathered the courage to ask some of them to come to watch some episodes using Tweak Bro’s wifi after school on days it was too rainy or cold to go see Kenny.

Then, about a week later, while Tweek was searching for one of his pencils in his messy locker, Craig tapped on his shoulder.

“Hey, Tweek.” He waved, then pointed to Tweek’s binder. “Do you like anime?”

Tweek looked down at the moon princess then nodded warily. Was Craig going to pick on him for it? Some sixth graders had teased him for liking a ‘weird, girly, Japanese cartoon’ before, luckily for Tweek, Bebe was there and politely told the sixth graders that Sailor Moon was the best and strongest hero ever, better than Superman even, and they should leave Tweek alone.

Of course, the sixth graders didn’t leave Tweek alone, but he still really appreciated that someone stuck up for him.

Craig hummed. “Just Sailor Moon? Or do you like others? Like Red Racer?”

This felt like a test.

“Um, I think so? I’ve only seen a few episodes, but I think it’s really cool! I like the tiny elephant sidekick,” Tweek replied honestly.

Craig regarded Tweek once more before he asked, “The new movie comes out on Saturday. Me and my friends are going to watch the newest season before we go. We’re starting after school tomorrow and having a sleepover on Friday. You can join us if you want.”

~~~~~

Tweek had never been so excited when he rushed to the graveyard to tell Kenny his news after school.

“You said yes, right?” Kenny bounced in shared excitement.

“Yeah! I mean, I need to ask my parents, but I don’t think they’ll say no.” Tweek chuckled to himself before spin round before falling back into the snow. He winced. His bruise had mostly healed, but the fall still hurt.

“So, I won’t see you until next week?” Kenny asked, poorly hiding the disappointment in his voice.

Tweek pushed himself up on his elbows. “I guess not. I’m sorry. Should I cancel one of the days?”

Shaking his head, Kenny declined, “No, don’t do that. Have fun and...” he flashed a wicked smile, “don’t puke lunch on Token’s expensive shoes or Jimmy’s crutches.”

Tweek wanted to tell Kenny that for the last month or so, he hadn’t felt sick around either Token or Jimmy since Kenny had taken over the top spots of his list.

Of course, he didn’t dare say a word of that.

~~~~

Red Racer was a pretty good anime. Tweek liked the races and the cool mech transformations. The plot was a little confusing since he started three seasons in, but Craig and his friends were happy to explain the parts that confused Tweek as they lounged around the Tucker’s living room.

By Friday, Tweek more or less understood the plot, the character’s motivations, and was excited about the movie.

Clyde picked up a popcorn kernel from the bottom of the now empty bowl and threw it at Token’s head. It ricocheted off his temple and landed square on Craig’s pizza slice. Craig reached over and push Clyde clean off the couch and right onto Tweek.

Tweek gasped and struggled to sit up, but Clyde was like a heavy, limp doll on his chest. Finally, Jimmy grabbed Clyde’s arm and hauled him off.

“S-shit, dude!” Tweek gasped, hand to his chest. “I thought I was going to die!”

“Nice going, Clyde.” Token took the throw pillow from his side and pushed it down on Clyde’s head. “Trying to kill Tweek. Are you scared we’ll kick you out for him?”

“No!” Clyde shoved the pillow away. “I’m way cooler than Tweek.”

Craig snorted. “Uh-huh. Sure. ‘Cooler’. I don’t think you can beat Tweek’s ‘hangs out in a graveyard’ level of cool.”

Tweek flinched back. Craig knew about that?

“Oh yeah! I head the s-s-s-sixth graders talking about that during recess,” Jimmy said around a bite of pizza. “Why do you do that, Tweek?”

“I, um, I, u-uh...” Tweek’s brain spun for a lie.

All of the boys' eyes were on him now. None of them looked malicious, but how did Tweek know they weren’t hiding it? How did he know that they weren’t doing this Red Racer marathon just to get dirt on him?

He swallowed. He couldn’t tell the others everything he told his parents, but he could strip it down a little.

“Do you guys remember Kenny McCormick?”

Craig nodded solemnly. “Yeah. He was a nice guy, even if he hung out with assholes.”

“Well, his grave is in there, and I feel bad that he died when he was so young. Urk! I guess I also regret that I didn’t know him all that well before he got sick. Especially since I replaced him with his own friends. Going there and sitting near by his grave, I feel connected to what could have been, if we were friends, you know?” Tweek chewed his lip.

Would they believe that? Would they call him a weirdo and make him walk home?

Jimmy reached over and set a greasy hand on Tweek’s shoulder with a nod. “I think we all miss him. I’m sure, up in H-Hea-Heaven, Kenny appreciates you coming to visit.”

Even without speaking to each other, the rest of the boys shared Jimmy’s sentiment. Tweek let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding when Token suddenly pointed at the TV.

“Hey! This is my favorite episode! This is the one with Purple Racer and the Power Stone! Everyone shut up!” He waved his hand at them all, leaning forward with his chin in his palm.

At that, the topic was dropped.

~~~~~~

On Saturday evening, Tweek was on cloud nine as he headed towards the graveyard.

The movie was so good! He had to tell Kenny all about it. Kenny wouldn’t mind spoilers, would he? Even if he did, Kenny had to hear about everything that happened with Craig and his friends.

Token had actually invited Tweek over to play basketball at his house with him and Clyde on Wednesday! Jimmy even wanted to try out some jokes on Tweek before his next show.

Kenny would be so proud that Tweek was making other friends; he was certain he would be!

As he neared, the sound of sobbing came to his ears.

Kenny sat on his headstone, knees pulled up to his chest, as he cried into his hands.

“Kenny?” Tweek raised his hand before dropping it. “What’s wrong?”

Kenny’s head shot up. His lips quivered as he stared at Tweek for an uncomfortably long time.

“What’s the matter?” Tweek tried again. “Are you alright?”

“No! I’m not alright,” Kenny wailed, hiding his face in his hands again. “It’s not fair! God’s being mean to me again!”

“What?”

Kenny slowly lowered himself off the headstone, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm even though he didn’t have any tears. “Tweek, do you remember a month or two ago, when you told me you were gay? I never told you my secret.”

Tweek had completely forgotten about that. Kenny said it wasn’t as good as Tweek’s secret, but whatever it was, it was important enough to make him cry.

“What’s your secret?”

Kenny shuffled side to side a moment before sighing. He gestured to his headstone. “Read it and tell me what’s wrong with it.”

Tweek furrowed his brow as he realized he’d never once read Kenny’s headstone in full. At most, he had only read Kenny’s name when he bonked his head against it. Every other time, Kenny either sat right in front of his stone or let his legs cover it.

Stooping down, Tweek ran his fingers along the carved letters as he read.

“‘Kenneth ‘Kenny’ McCormick, rest well sweet angel in the arms of God, Free of pain and sickness. March twenty-second to J...’” Tweek trailed off. He looked up at Kenny with a frown. “‘June eight.’ Kenny, why does it say you died in June? And the year is from nearly seven years ago!”

“You think you're a weirdo and a freak, Tweek? You’re as average as white bread compared to me.” Kenny laughed, dry and bitterly. “That’s my secret, Tweek: I can’t stay dead. I don’t know why or how to stop it. I’ve never stayed dead, not any of the tens of times I’ve died before.”

A new batch of sobs escaped his throat. “I thought for sure it would stick this time, Tweek. It hurt so much more to die than ever before. It felt different. I wanted it to be different. I didn’t want to come back.”

Tweek scrambled to his feet. “That’s impossible. If you died before, I know I would remember it.”

“No, you wouldn’t. No one does. That’s what makes it so hard.” Kenny sniffled. “I die, I come back, and everyone acts as if I just ran away or was kicked out or whatever. I fucking hate it! I’m just the poor, dirty kid who can’t stay dead. I’m the freak, Tweek. I’m the weirdo. You’re just a kid with a tic. A normal kid.”

“Kenny...” Tweek wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m going to come back to life soon. I can feel it. I’m going to come back and...and—and you won’t remember all the time we have together,” Kenny cried. “I want you to remember. It’s not fair I’m going to lose you like this! Not when I just...” His sobs overtook anything else he had to say.

Tweek took a step forward when he noticed that Kenny’s feet had disappeared. His legs were already fading away when Tweek stomped his foot to gain Kenny’s attention.

“I won’t forget! I promise I won’t!” Tweek announced. “We’ll hang out at Tweak Bros and go play basketball with Token and sing silly German songs and everything! I swear I won’t forget!”

“I’d like that, but,” Kenny’s stomach disappeared as Kenny forced a smile, “yes, you will. Everyone does.”

“I won’t,” Tweek repeated, his voice shaking with his own sobs. “I can’t forget everything you’ve done to help me. I’ll remember, Kenny. I will.”

Now his shoulders were gone.

Kenny chuckled with a shake of the head. “I really hope you do.”

“I won’t let you really be the one that got away! I won’t!” Tweek exclaimed, his vision blurred, but by the time he took a shaking step forward, the ghost of Kenny McCormick was gone.

~~~~~~

Kenny felt like shit. Normally he felt bad after coming back from the dead, all tired and cold with his limbs aching, but today was worse. Today he felt tired, cold, and achy along with a heavy dread that clung to his heart.

He didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to go out and find his friends at the park or even pull the covers off of his living body. He wanted to stay and melt into the torn mattress and stop existing. The only reason he got up was when he heard a small gasp from the door and say Karen staring at him.

For a moment, he’d hoped that maybe she was surprised to see him alive and his curse was broken.

But instead the shock faded quickly from her eyes and she told Kenny it was time for breakfast.

His mom hugged him when he came into the living room. She squeezed him so tight, it hurt to breathe before placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Oh, Kenny, I love you so much. My precious, darlin’ little man.” His mom whispered into his hair. She still smelled like cigarettes and beer and the cheap perfume his dad bought for her on Mother’s Day every year.

Even in his bleak mindset, he had to admit he missed that smell.

“I, uh, I love you, too, Mom,” Kenny replied. It felt so strange to feel the vibration from his voice when he spoke.

“What are you doin’, woman?” His dad asked from the table. “Let the boy go. He ain’t dyin'.”

She reluctantly released him but patted Kenny’s head before standing up.

“Mommy, can I have a hug, too, please?” Karen asked, tugging at her shirt hem.

“Well, of course, you can, sweet pea.” Their mom stooped down to hug her and Kenny made a beeline for the table before he could be pulled into another hug.

His dad turned the page in his newspaper. “Sleep well, Kenny? You seemed sick yesterday. That cough and all.”

Could he have trouble breathing, if he didn’t have breath?

Kenny shrugged. Before he could answer, Kevin walked in. To Kenny’s surprise, he looked presentable, dressed up and cleaned. He even had his hair slicked back.

“The fuck you look so fancy for?” Kenny asked as Kevin slid into a chair.

Kevin looked at him, furrowing his brow, a moment, as if he were trying to figure out just what was wrong with his little brother, before shaking it off.

“It’s Sunday? Church? Did you cough your brains out last night, dingus?” Kevin rolled his eyes.

Karen picked up her faded plush doll and headed towards the table. “Kevin’s trying to get that pretty girl to hold hands with him, remember, Kenny? The one with the blond curls,” Karen held up her doll, nodding at the doll’s faded yellow hair, “who made Kevin blush last weekend?”

“I didn’t blush!” Kevin snapped, face red. “I ain’t dressed up for her either. I just...wanna look nice for church.” He didn’t look at Kenny or Karen as he said that. With a smile, their mom patted Kevin’s back

“Well, even if you ain't, I’m sure that girl will like you anyway,” Their mom told him as she set a plate of flat pancakes in front of him before moving to deliver the rest of the family breakfast.

“And if she don’t, just lay on that Old McCormick Charm,” their dad shut the newspaper. “Works on the ladies every time.” He patted their mom’s hip as she passed, and she giggled, kissing his temple.

Karen picked up her pancake with her fingers and began to pull it apart. “Is that how come I was able to make so many girl friends?”

Kenny smiled to himself, pleased that Tweek hadn’t been pulling his chain when he said Karen was happy. Actually, all his family seemed to be happy. His parents were getting along. Kevin was trying to get himself a girl. Karen had a bunch of friends.

Kenny hoped it would last now that he was back.

After their dad quickly ended the conversation about the Old McCormick Charm, the family ate breakfast, normal as Kenny could remember. He was gone for nearly half a year and no one remembered.

His stomach churned. Kenny pushed away his half-finished plate.

“Can I skip church today?” He asked, faking a cough into his fist. “I still feel a little bit sick.”

Admittedly, he didn’t want to go anywhere near the church. Months in that blasted graveyard, listening to the distant sermons or watching tear filled funerals were Father Maxie said the same words over and over to grieving families had worn him out on going to church for a while.

His mom reached over and touched his forehead. “Ya don’t feel hot, but since you were sick yesterday, I guess that’ll be alright. I’ll wrap up your plate. You can eat the rest later.”

Kenny nodded and pushed himself away from the table. After wishing Kevin good luck in getting his girl, Kenny lumbered back to his bed and flopped down. He curled into a ball and forced himself to sleep.

When he woke up, the house was quiet. Kenny looked around his room. His stuff had been moved around and there were several boxes labeled ‘clothes’ and ‘toys’ stacked in the corner. He knew he should probably get to unpacking those and setting his life back up, but Kenny suddenly felt claustrophobic and trapped in his house, in a room that hadn’t been his in months.

Throwing off the covers, Kenny shoved his shoes on his feet and hurried out the door to let his feet take him wherever they wanted to go.

~~~~~~

After twenty minutes of wandering, Kenny found himself standing outside of Tweak Bro’s. His stomach churned. Should he go in and see if Tweek remembered him? Did he even want to know? Maybe he should put it off until school Monday and go find Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.

Kenny shook himself.

No. If he didn’t do this now, it would eat at him all day.

With a shaking hand, he reached out and gave the door a firm tug.

It was locked.

Of course, Tweak Bro’s wasn’t open on Sundays.

Shaking his head, Kenny sat on the bench out front. A cold wind bit his exposed face and Kenny nearly yelped. It had been so long since he had felt the physical cold like that.

Kenny readjusted his hood. He didn’t want to head home. He didn’t want to talk to his friends.

He didn’t know what he wanted, so he sat and brooded on the bench for half an hour.

Several people passed, each giving him that same look Kevin did, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and why he looked so out of place. Each time he noticed someone staring, Kenny flipped them off and glared. He didn’t particularly want to be reminded of his status as a freak.

Finally, Kenny forced himself to his feet. His legs were asleep with pins and needles. The sensation was just as annoying as he remembered.

Telling himself to go home, Kenny shoved his hands deep in his parka and began towards his house. As he stopped at the crosswalk, the sound of hurried footsteps came from behind him. He turned around, ready to side step out of the way, just as someone tackled him to his bottom.

“Kenny! Kenny, you’re alive!” Tweek sobbed into Kenny’s shoulder. He squeezed him tighter. “I went to your grave after church and you weren’t there anymore! I thought I might have--errr!--dreamed the whole thing!”

Kenny blinked before turning his head to look at Tweek’s shock of blond hair.

“You remember? You remember me being a ghost?” Kenny whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loudly, this blessed illusion would break into a million pieces.

Tweek pulled back but kept his hands on Kenny’s shoulders. “Yes! I remember! I promised I wouldn’t forget, and I didn’t!” He grinned at him, and Kenny’s heart skipped a beat. A feeling that made his head rush from the experience of it.

Tears blurred Kenny’s vision. He couldn’t believe this. Someone remembered! Someone he really cared about remembered.

Kenny didn’t care how this happened: if this was God making up for the curse or Tweek hitting his head against his headstone did it. It didn’t matter. He’d never felt so elated in his life.

Kenny wrapped his arms around Tweek and hugged him so tightly, he was surprised he didn’t hear the cracking of bones.

Tweek remembered! Tweek, this boy who came and sat with him day after day for months just because Kenny asked him to; this sweet, kind-hearted boy that let Kenny help with his homework and shared the latest gossip and checked on Karen and brought him a present on his birthday; this boy that Kenny had slowly but surely developed quite the crush on, he remembered.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” Kenny swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you, Tweek.”

“Well, you can not freak out when I, um, say what I have to say.” Tweek gently pushed Kenny away. He took a breath and continued, “Kenny, I have a confession. I promised God if I ever saw you alive again, I’d say this. I hope this won’t make anything weird. I, argh, I like you--like a lot, a lot. More than a friend.”

Kenny blinked. For a moment, he thought he was going to die from happiness after less than a day back.

“I like you, too--like a lot, a lot,” Kenny replied instantly, nearly stumbling over his words in his rush to say them.

Tweek’s face went beet red. He scrambled to his feet, wiping the dirt from his jeans, then held out his hand to Kenny. Kenny let himself be hauled up, but he wasn’t going to let go of Tweek’s hand.

No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to let himself be the one that got away ever again.

~~~

AN: Thank you all for all the support. This pair is has a fun dynamic to play with x3c

#south park #twenny #tweek tweak #kenny mccormick #multi-chapter

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incorrectchoniberonicaswangs · 6 years

Text

hey baby won't you look my way (i can be your new addiction)

Chapter 3: ...no these are fuCKING SEXTS

ao3

Chapter Summary: There's a substitute teacher, Cheryl and Toni have a plan, and Betty is a "good fucking person."

Monday, 7:17 AM

gays united

hbicheryl: good morning gays

wannabett: CHERYL

hbicheryl: good morning gays, cousin betty

hbicheryl: happy?

wannabett: yes

hisshissmotherfucker: why the fuck are you texting us at this ungodly hour

hisshissmotherfucker: go back to sleep

nopeaz: school starts in less than an hour dipshit

hisshissmotherfucker: whatever

veroffica: cheryl, you're in a way better mood than normal. what happened?

hbicheryl: im offended! cant i just be in a good mood because i feel like it?

wannabett: no

hbicheryl: fine

hbicheryl: the history teacher is sick so we have a substitute

hisshissmotherfucker: FUCK YES

wannabett: im confused why is this a good thing??

spillthefogarTEA: oh betty

spillthefogarTEA: poor, sweet betty

nopeaz: substitutes are naive and cant control the class

nopeaz: so we can do whatever we want

wannabett: im not sure thats the best idea

spillthefogarTEA: choni and i have history first period with you, cooper

spillthefogarTEA: we'll show you what we mean

8:16 AM

hbicheryl + nopeaz

hbicheryl: this is even better than i thought

nopeaz: he looks so timid

hbicheryl: this is going to be so much fun

hbicheryl: lets begin phase one

8:19 AM

gays united

wannabett: is this cheryl and tonis master plan? to text out in the open?

jugheadalones: theyre cheryl and toni

wannabett: meaning??

jugheadalones: im sure theres more to it than that

goingtoheller: ^^tru

wannabett: i guess ill just have to wait and see

8:23 AM

gays united

wannabett: okay the sub is asking cheryl and toni to get off their phones

wannabett: theyre ignoring him ofc

wannabett: asdJFDJJSSSKKDXM

hisshissmotherfucker: WHAT HAPPENED

spillthefogarTEA: HE GRABBED TONIS PHONE RIGHT OUT OF HER HANDS SHE LOOKS SO FUCKING STARTLED

goingtoheller: LMAO

spillthefogarTEA: OH SHIT NOW HES READING CHONIS TEXTS FROM TONIS PHONE

wannabett: ...no these are fuCKING SEXTS

veroffica: I'M WHEEZING

hisshissmotherfucker: WHAT DO THE TEXTS SAY

spillthefogarTEA: "maybe after this we can sneak in a quickie between classes"

spillthefogarTEA: "i could finger you up against the bathroom wall"

spillthefogarTEA: "or i could eat you out in the storage closet"

spillthefogarTEA: "of course... youd have to be quiet"

spillthefogarTEA: "do you think you can do that? can you be a good girl for me?"

wannabett: cheryl is as red as her hair

wannabett: toni looks like she wishes the earth would swallow her whole

goingtoheller: I'M DEAD.

veroffica: THIS IS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD

hbicheryl: GUYS STOP LAUGHING THIS ISNT FUNNY

goingtoheller: no, this is definitely funny.

hisshissmotherfucker: wait were the texts from toni or cheryl??

wannabett: he didnt say

goingtoheller: ooh, any theories? i'm still on team vers. cheryl, can you confirm anything?

hbicheryl: SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING

veroffica: i should hope so!

jugheadalones: ...i did NOT need to know this much about chonis sex life

wannabett: i guess the sub isnt as incompetent as you thought

spillthefogarTEA: lmao sucks to be you guys

spillthefogarTEA: oh shit i think hes looking at the notifications

spillthefogarTEA: "spill the... fogarty!" yep im done for youre all invited to my funeral except for choni bc they got us into this mess

wannabett: fangs' phones has been confiscated as well as cheryls in case you were wondering

wannabett: haha thats karma i guess

wannabett: fuck now he wants mine too why me??

veroffica: ...guys?

goingtoheller: that was the most exciting thing that i've witnessed secondhand in a WHILE.

hisshissmotherfucker: i hope nothing bad happened to fangs

hisshissmotherfucker: or toni or cheryl or betty

jugheadalones: i wonder whats going on there right now

veroffica: well, i don't have any classes with any of them for a while, so i won't be able to know what happened until they get their phones back.

hisshissmotherfucker: ^^

jugheadalones: ^^

goingtoheller: ^^

12:03 PM

gays united

hbicheryl: WE FINALLY GOT OUR PHONES BACK

hbicheryl: I CAN PRACTICALLY TASTE THE FREEDOM

nopeaz: now i just have to go live in a cave for a few years until everyone forgets about that debacle

spillthefogarTEA: thats not going to happen any time soon

goingtoheller: fangs is right, that was iconic.

veroffica: you two will never live that down.

jugheadalones: half of riverdale high is already speculating as to which one of you two sent the texts and which one of you received the texts

hisshissmotherfucker: cheryl, toni, care to make a statement?

hbicheryl: no

nopeaz: fuck off

goingtoheller: well, at least they seem to be on the same page.

wannabett: can we talk about whats REALLY important now??

jugheadalones: and what would that be?

wannabett: ALL FOUR OF US GOT DETENTION!!

veroffica: can the substitute even do that?

spillthefogarTEA: yeah, he wrote us all up for "repeatedly disobeying a clear set of instructions"

nopeaz: at least its only for today

wannabett: ive never gotten detention before! how the hell am i going to explain this to my mom??

hbicheryl: lmao cant relate

wannabett: im a good fucking person i dont deserve this

12:39 PM

gays united

hisshissmotherfucker: wait cheryl and toni what was your master plan?

hbicheryl: oh we were just going to sext for a while and then make out in the back of the classroom

veroffica: ...that was a letdown.

goingtoheller: yeah, i expected better.

nopeaz: we were horny when we came up with that plan okay

jugheadalones: now THAT makes more sense

spillthefogarTEA: tbh im still kinda disappointed tho

1:22 PM

gays united

wannabett: SHIT

veroffica: what's wrong, betts?

wannabett: i think the school told my mom about the detention :(

goingtoheller: what makes you think that?

wannabett: shes called me four times today already

wannabett: ive been ignoring her but knowing my mom she'll probably just show up here to talk to me

jugheadalones: she wouldnt do that

wannabett: you underestimate her

veroffica: b is right. her mom is just crazy enough to do that.

1:40 PM

gays united

wannabett: huh i wonder why the secretary is calling me to the office

wannabett: it couldnt be my mom, could it??

wannabett: who wants to bet against me?

goingtoheller: a, congrats on finally living up to your screen name!

goingtoheller: b, there is no way that i'm going to be stupid enough to take you up on that.

jugheadalones: i'll bite.

jugheadalones: 20 bucks it isnt her

wannabett: youre on jug

wannabett: be prepared to lose $20

1:55 PM

gays united

wannabett: angry-mama-cooper.jpeg

wannabett: fork over the money jones

jugheadalones: ...fuck

jugheadalones: this is what i get for believing that alice cooper wouldnt be that petty??

hbicheryl: no this is what you get for being a fool

wannabett: same thing

spillthefogarTEA: okay im sure that im going to regret asking this, but what did mrs cooper want that took fifteen minutes to talk about?

wannabett: the usual

wannabett: "youre disappointing your family, you need to do better, you dont want to end up like polly," etc.

veroffica: i'm sorry, b. :(

wannabett: it isnt your fault v

veroffica: i know, but your mom clearly isn't sorry for the crazy expectations she puts on you because polly didn’t turn out the way she wanted, so somebody has to be. and i want that somebody to be me.

wannabett: you really think so?

veroffica: i know so.

spillthefogarTEA: thats so sweet

hbicheryl: and REALLY gay

spillthefogarTEA: ofc

veroffica: *bi, and betty and i are just best friends.

wannabett: ^^^

spillthefogarTEA: sweets and i are best friends and if i had said something like that to him yall wouldnt think that we were just being friends

wannabett: thats bc you and sweet pea are super gay for each other

hisshissmotherfucker: false

spillthefogarTEA: ...you dont think that im hot? :(

hisshissmotherfucker: no i think that youre the hottest person in the whole damn universe

hisshissmotherfucker: but that doesnt mean that im in love with you

hbicheryl: babe do you see this shit??

nopeaz: i see it all right

hbicheryl: im so glad that we arent like that

nopeaz: me too :)

hbicheryl: i love you toni

nopeaz: i love you too cher

veroffica: awww, that was adorable.

veroffica: but also: what will it take to convince all of you that betty and i are telling the truth??

goingtoheller: nothing, ever. you are both so clearly whipped it isn't even funny.

jugheadalones: like cheryl and toni levels of whipped

hbicheryl: except you two arent even dating!!

nopeaz: the same goes for sweets and fangs too

hisshissmotherfucker: whatever

spillthefogarTEA: ^^^

wannabett: ^^^

veroffica: ^^^

jugheadalones: why do i even try anymore

2:29 PM

gays united

hbicheryl: well its time to go into the hellish pit the school calls detention

wannabett: i wonder if theyll make us do manual labor

spillthefogarTEA: sweet pea practically lived in detention at southside high, ask him

hisshissmotherfucker: thats true

hisshissmotherfucker: and yes sometimes they do make you do some janitorial work around the school

hbicheryl: oh my fucking god im going to die

jugheadalones: stop being so extra cheryl

goingtoheller: no never stop being extra cheryl it is the best part of this chat

hbicheryl: for your information hobo i will never ever stop being dramatic and if you say that again i will fight you

hbicheryl: and dont worry keller i wont change

nopeaz: thats my girl!!

hisshissmotherfucker: as i was saying

hisshissmotherfucker: youll probably just sit in a room and do your homework

hbicheryl: thats even worse

2:34 PM

gays united

hbicheryl: THEY WANT TO TAKE OUR PHONES

hbicheryl: WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS SWEET PEA

hisshissmotherfucker: i thought it would be a nice surprise

nopeaz: screw you

hbicheryl: IF I NEVER GET OUT OF HERE TELL MY MOTHER THAT SHES AN AWFUL BITCH AND THAT I HATE HER

veroffica: sure thing, blossom.

3:00 PM

gays united

hbicheryl: MY PHONE IS BACK I LOVE IT SO MUCH THIS SCHOOL IS SHIT AND DETENTION FUCKING SUCKS

goingtoheller: that's a lot of moods.

jugheadalones: ^^

veroffica: "that's a lot of moods" is just cheryl's personality in a nutshell.

wannabett: tru

hisshissmotherfucker: tru

nopeaz: tru

hbicheryl: tru

Notes: Writing choni's sexts was the best part of this chapter, honestly. Also, I noticed that I refer to Cheryl and Toni as 'choni' an awful lot, which probably has direct correlation to my laziness. I know that this chapter has a lot less to do with the overlying plot, and that's because I'm trying something different. Tell me if you like it this way or if you want me to go back to more plot-heavy chapters.

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reekierevelator · 5 years

Text

The Time Has Come

John Maclean (1879 – 1923) reviews his life as he prepares to address the horde of a hundred thousand people which has gathered on Glasgow Green to hear him speak after his release from Peterhead Prison.

So here I am again. Back on the speakers’ platform; fingers twitching and mind racing.

In a few minutes I’m expected to give a rabble-rousing speech to the thousands upon thousands of people staring up at me, despite the fact that until yesterday I was languishing in the sewer called Peterhead Jail, despite the fact I’d been on hunger strike for eight months. But I’ll manage it. I will do it, just as I did it after prison the last time, 1916. For even now that the war is over there are still too many who don’t understand, who aren’t yet class conscious, who can’t see through the fog of capitalism. I will do it because however weak I am today, I am no longer being force-fed twice daily through rubber tubes.

I can hardly believe it’s only 1919. The trial seems such a long time ago. But it was really only a year ago. I was fit and robust then. I conducted my own defence. I spoke from the dock for an hour and a half, logically rebutting in turn each of the trumped up charges they laid against me. Defence of the Realm Act indeed. Then as now I said I wished no harm to any human being; that all my actions were entirely humanitarian in nature. But they insisted I was a threat to society, that I should be keen to kill my fellow workers in other countries, that I should be more patriotic. Patriotism - the last refuge of those scoundrels; Dr Johnson was right. And maybe it’s true that I did try to undermine their war effort, their drive to slaughter millions. I tried, just as my friends Karl Liebknecht and Rosa Luxembourg did in Germany. I was convicted of sedition, of trying to bring down the state, and sentenced to five years in the Peterhead hellhole. But now that the war has ended, I’m not such a threat, and in response to public clamour they set me free.

Was it all worth it? I suppose I should be grateful to have avoided the fate of my Edinburgh friend. James wanted to bring trade unionism and socialism to another part of the United Kingdom, the Ireland of his father and forefathers. Connolly was brought up among those Irish immigrants crammed into the caves under the arches of the city’s South Bridge. After fighting for workers’ rights against the Dublin lock-out he founded his Citizens’ Army. And in 1916, for his trouble, he ended up severely wounded, dragged up against a wall in Dublin Castle, and shot dead by soldiers. But I’m sure this country will find that’s not the end of the Irish story. Maybe that’s something Maybe that’s what I should tell them.

I still have my friends in Glasgow - Jimmy Maxton, Guy Aldred, and Willie Gallacher Jimmy’s the clever one. One day someone will probably write a doctoral thesis on Maxton’s thinking and end up as Prime Minister. And Guy, like me, he’s seen his fair share of courtrooms. America saw its way to amend its constitution with a Bill of Rights in 1791. But poor old Britain had to wait for Guy to be repeatedly arrested on this very Glasgow Green, for making speeches and gathering crowds, before the courts eventually agreed that public free speech, public meetings, and public processions really ought to be part of everyone’s civil liberties. And Willie, he’s seen the inside of prisons too, Willie still guides the unions, leading the Shop Stewards Movement on the Clyde. But he’s left his syndicalism behind, thrown in his lot with Lenin and Trotsky and founded the Communist Party of Great Britain. One of these days I can see him in Parliament, a Communist MP.

Looking at this huge crowd of people eagerly waiting to hear me speak I know many campaigned relentlessly for my release from prison. And now they expect a victorious call to arms, a vibrant, revolutionary speech, all fire and brimstone. They want to greet a Scottish Lenin at the Central Station rather than the Finland Station. But the prison regime has exhausted me and destroyed my body. And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t known hardship before, growing up in the poverty in Pollockshaws where my Gaelic speaking parents had landed up after being forced off their Highland land. In school they called me a lad o’ pairts, a clever wee boy. The Free Kirk arranged for me to be trained as a teacher. And after that I went on to Glasgow University and took my MA in Economics. But it was the terrible housing, poverty, and illness I saw all around me that drove me to a proper understanding of economics from a socialist perspective. It’s seventy years since Engels, in Manchester but writing in German, found himself forced to describe the awful condition of the working class. And fifty since Marx wrote about the Highland Clearances. Yet sometimes it’s hard to see that very much has changed.

Of course, when I started to speak in public about the need for reform, the need to redress the terrible ills of society, I was sacked from my teaching job. Then they barred me from teaching in schools altogether. Nothing daunted, I founded the Scottish Labour College to teach people about socialist economics. I espoused the co-operative movement. I got the Renfrewshire Co-op to push local school boards into providing facilities for adult education, economics education. During the war I did what I could to support Mary Barbour and the women’s fight against the rent increases, imposed by absentee landlords while their conscripted husbands were away fighting in France. Aye, one of these days they’ll put up a statue to that wonderful woman.

And now Willie Gallacher and the Clydeside workers have decided they have to strike again. Trying to reduce working hours to a forty hour week. And it’s not that they want the same pay for fewer hours. They’ll take a bit less pay. All they want is to make some room in the yards to give jobs to all the unemployed demobbed soldiers. But in Parliament they fear an uprising, a Glasgow Soviet, a Soviet Scotland. Churchill’s tanks are even now being marshalled in the Gallowgate. Thousands of English troops are arriving by train. Meanwhile, the Scottish troops are confined to barracks in Maryhill. And if Willie speaks to them at Maryhill he knows the troops will come out for him. Revolution is in the air. But I’ve told him, that kind of battle – workers in khaki killing other workers in khaki – that’s not for me, not what I want to see. If there are to be tanks on Sauchiehall Street they must be faced down without bloodshed. But can I convince this heaving crowd of that?

Like me, most of the people here couldn’t see what the so-called ‘war to end wars’ was all about, why everyone had to starve or die because of it. Just one imperial power slaughtering the workers of another imperial power as they tried to gain a bigger slice of the cake, the wealth of the exploited colonies, for the benefit of their own capitalist classes.

The Russian workers couldn’t understand it either. We all cheered when they abandoned the war in 1917 and overthrew their government. I well remember chairing the Third All-Russian Congress of Soviets. And then Lenin appointed me Bolshevik Consul in Scotland. I hear they’ve even named a street after me in St Petersburg, or Leningrad as they’re calling it nowadays. There’s even been talk of carving my name on the Kremlin’s walls. But what do those things matter – his ribbon, star, and a’ that?

I’m thirty-nine and feeling nearer ninety. The force-feeding when I went on hunger strike in prison didn’t help. Some even say they tried to poison me. Now they tell me pneumonia is setting in – that I’ll probably be dead in a year or two. People might remember me for a while, before I’m eclipsed by others; Scottish people better able to fight for socialism and independence, people who understand the true nature of Scotland. If my funeral attracts as big a crowd as the one before me now it will be the biggest funeral Glasgow has ever seen. Maybe I’ll be a footnote in some socialist history of Scotland, or someone might write a song, a poem, or a play about me. My dear wee daughter Nan says she’ll write a book about me. A hundred years from now will anyone read that passionate speech I made from the dock? Will that speech’s prediction – of another world war twenty years from now - prove true or false? Will the egalitarian principles I've lived and fought for ever really be able to establish themselves in an independent Scotland? Marx said capitalism forces companies to compete, to exploit resources and labour, and the devil take the hindmost. The losers are taken over, merged, or eliminated altogether, whatever the cost to the workers. Eventually there will be huge companies, but there won’t be many. I suspect, as Marx predicted, that companies will become global, capitalists billionaires, and the gap between rich and poor will only widen. Could an independent socialist Scotland really stand in their way?

Ach, so I lost my safe middle-class teaching career, I lost my health. I gained a prison record. Have all those things really been for nothing? - But good grief, what kind of self-serving question is that for me to be asking myself?

Oh dear, the Convener is nodding towards me now. It’s time to get up on the old hind legs and give this multitude some eloquent words to chew over. Maybe their reaction will provide the answer to some of the questions tickling my brain.

#Reekie Revelator #short story #imaginary monologue #scotland #independence #socialism #john maclean (1879 - 1923)

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risingphoenixwriting · 5 years

Text

Being Brave

Gonna be brave here and just do it. Here is the first chapter of Phoenix Heart. Y’all may message me what you think of it. I accept CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, not “you suck at writing and you should just kill yourself” types of responses. I’ve gotten that enough over the years from anonymous cowards as well as from myself lol. Here it is!

Chapter 1

Nestled within the grid-like confines of suburbia, the arrival of an ambulance shattered the tranquility. Silent as death, the vehicle parked before the driveway of an unassuming home and two paramedics exited. They both moved solemnly slow over to the back of the ambulance and opened the doors to retrieve the stretcher. One paramedic pushed while the other pulled and both neared the front door of the home. There were three ceramic flower pots on the front porch with different colored roses blooming in each. The front door opened and the paramedics entered.

Lance Zimmerman sat on the large sofa in the front room of his home. He was a twenty-year old Caucasian with short brown hair and blue eyes. Lance was tall, a couple inches over six feet, and had a slender build.

Lance sat on the front room sofa; knee bobbing up and down, up and down constantly. His blue eyes darted between the room his mother lay in and the large window opposite from where he sat. He watched the paramedics park their ambulance, he watched them ready the stretcher, and he watched in agony as they rolled it to the front door.

A buzz in his pocket sent Lance’s hand delving into the depths for his cell phone. There was an incoming call from a contact listed as ‘Evie’ and Lance stared at the picture of the smiling Latina on his phone screen for a long time before answering.

“H-Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up from the couch.

His footsteps echoed across a quiet home and he left the front room for the adjacent kitchen and dining room. He saw his older siblings, Cole and Ashleigh, sitting at the kitchen table.

Cole was a couple inches shorter than Lance with shoulder-length brown hair, disheveled from stress, and dark brown eyes. Ashleigh was the shortest, standing at around five feet, five inches tall and had long, blonde hair and blue eyes. She was crying while the eldest of the Zimmerman siblings supported her.

“Sorry I missed your call. What’s up?” a tired voice questioned on the other end of the line.

Lance’s hand clenched tightly around his cell phone and he ascended the staircase toward his bedroom before stopping halfway. He stood there, eyes closed, and suddenly overcome with a shaking sensation surging through his entire being.

“Lance?” the voice asked again.

“She’s passed,” he spoke.

Those simple words hammered something deep into Lance’s chest and he lost his balance momentarily. He grabbed onto the railing with his free hand and steadied himself. There were tears in his eyes now. No response came from the other end of the phone and Lance slowly slunk down in the middle of the staircase.

Lance then yelled until his throat burned. Cole sent a pained look to the staircase as his younger brother’s choked sobs emitted just out of his view. The front door opened and the young woman on the contact picture for Evie in Lance’s phone entered. She was petite, standing around five feet tall, and had long black hair and brown eyes. She hurried into the kitchen and offered silent, solemn condolences to Cole and Ashleigh. The latter pointed at the staircases where the sobbing could still be heard.

Evelyn “Evie” Sanchez slowly ascended the stairs to where Lance lay in a heap and knelt down beside him. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention and pulled him into a comforting embrace. Lance sniffled and buried his teary face into Evelyn’s shirt.

“Get up,” she told him, “C’mon, Lance. You need to stand.”

Lance nodded and gripped the railing. With both forms of support, he stood up, and Evelyn led him to his bedroom. Ashleigh blew her nose into some tissue and dropped onto the growing pile. Cole moved his hand from rubbing circles along her back to fold it within the other member of the pair atop the kitchen table.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Ashleigh asked, “He and Mom were so… close.”

Cole did not answer and simply stared at his reflection in the glossy table. He took a deep breath in and sighed before standing. Without another word, he left for the front door.

“W-Where’re you going?” Ashleigh asked.

“I need a drink,” Cole responded before leaving the house.

Upstairs in Lance’s room, he sat on the end of his bed while Evelyn set his computer chair before him. She sat down, but was unsure of how to approach him.

“Do you… need anything?” she asked.

Lance shook his head and then lay back. He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling and then groaned tiredly before sitting back up. He sniffled again and wiped his eyes with his knuckle.

“I… I’ve been preparing myself for today. E-Ever since the doctors told us it was terminal,” he muttered, “It still hurts.”

“Of course it does. She was your Mom. I… I couldn’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but I’m here for you, Lance,” Evelyn responded, “If you want to head out or… I don’t know. Just let me know, ‘kay?”

“Mmkay,” Lance hummed.

He lay back down and squirmed up his bed to rest his head on one of his pillows. Evelyn rolled his computer chair over to his bedside and sat there in silence.

“I’m hungry,” Lance muttered, “Is that weird? My Mom just died and I’m hungry. I just want to stuff a dozen donuts in my stupid face hole right now.”

He forced a smile. Lance knew Evelyn was worried about him, so now he was trying to reassure her. His smile faltered a bit. His mother just died and Lance was trying to help someone else feel better. A heavy sigh escaped past his lips and he nervously rubbed at his head.

“Remember when the most difficult part of life was passing a stupid SAT?” he asked.

A bit of dry laughter forced its way out of Lance and he went back to rubbing his eyes. Evelyn remained silent, still sitting beside him, but ever watchful.

“God, I have to find something to wear to the funeral now. Shouldn’t I have done that already?” he continued, “I knew it was only a matter of time. I…”

He cut himself off and seemed to become frustrated. Evelyn leaned forward and flicked Lance’s forehead. He recoiled a bit and stared at her in disbelief.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“You’re worrying yourself too much. You’re acting like me,” Evelyn scolded, “You need to take a breath and just… grieve like a normal person. Your mother wouldn’t want you acting like this.”

“Yeah, but she’d also wanna be alive,” Lance’s rapid response took him and Evelyn by surprise, “Sorry… that came out harsh.”

“I understand. Your Mom just died,” Evelyn responded, “But Lance…”

She paused, expecting him to respond first before continuing. Lance gave her a tired look and lifted his chin slightly to indicate that she had his attention.

“Your Mom just died,” she told him a second time, “You’re expected to grieve and to cry and to curse the world for how unfair it is. You’re expected to do so much more than to worry about what to wear at her funeral. You need to take it day-by-day and just breathe in the meantime.”

She was right, Lance admitted to himself, so he did not argue against her. Arguing against Evelyn Sanchez was a pointless endeavor. She was the smartest person Lance knew and she constantly reminded him of just how smart she was whenever he failed to remember.

“Thanks for being here, Evie,” Lance quietly stated before turning his back to her.

Two months later and Lance lay on a sofa in the office of Dr. Jasmine McKee. His attention was on the second hand ticking along the face of a cat-shaped clock on the wall. His hair was more disheveled than ever and his blue eyes had heavy bags weighing them down.

Jasmine sat at her desk watching Lance avoiding her gaze. She was a middle-aged, heavyset African American woman who had black hair with red highlights and dark brown eyes. Atop her desk were more pictures of cats, which Lance presumed to belong to her.

“Is this going to be another hour of you just watching the time go by or are we actually going to make some kind of progress?” Jasmine asked.

“Y’know I never agreed to going to these appointments,” Lance responded.

“Yes, but you’re an adult who can choose to come or not, and you’re here, on time, every week,” Jasmine countered.

“Only because you’ll probably tell my Dad if I don’t,” Lance assumed.

“I won’t,” Jasmine admitted, “As I said, you’re an adult, and you can make the choice of whether or not to show up. I’m not here to tattle on you if you go against your father’s recommendation.”

Lance sat up, nodded at Jasmine, and then pushed off from the sofa to leave her office.

“But,” she added, stopping him just within the doorframe, “I do wish you’d say something. Open up a little.”

“I’m good, Doc,” Lance responded without facing Jasmine, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have class in thirty minutes.”

Jasmine waited a moment to see if Lance would face her, but the younger man never did, so she sighed in defeat.

“You’re free to go,” she relented, “Same time next week, I hope?”

Lance gave her an uncommitted shrug and stalked out of the student health services building. He shielded his eyes from the sun until he could adjust and then paused to gaze out at Element City University’s campus.

The student health services building sat in the corner between the student store and the cafeteria in an L-shape. The student store and cafeteria shared a building while health services stood adjacent to them. A grassy plain littered with trees providing shade stretched out to another L-shaped block of buildings that contained a computer lab, offices for the college officials, and a building for financial services.

Lance left this area of campus and approached a three-story building that housed a multitude of classrooms and offices for professors working at the college. Classes taught in this building were typically courses related to history, literature, and psychology. Lance’s upcoming class, Modern US History, was taught in this block of a building.

He entered through an automatic door and called an elevator down to his level. The doors parted and he stepped inside. He pushed the button to inform the elevator to lift him to the second floor and the doors started to close.

“Hold the door!” someone called out.

Lance recognized the voice and briefly thought about allowing the doors to close, but his hand had a conflicting idea. It shot out as if under its own volition and stopped the doors from closing all the way. The elevator opened up once more just in time for Evelyn to enter.

“Oh! Hey… you,” she greeted Lance with an awkward tone in her voice.

He hummed and mashed the button to rush the elevator to close. He wanted the brief ascent to hasten so he did not have to be in this situation.

“How’ve you been?” Evelyn asked, giving Lance an expectant look.

“Fine,” he responded, ignoring her stare.

The elevator reached the second floor and the doors parted, so Lance hurried away before Evelyn could say anything else. She remained in the elevator with a dejected look on her face and then the doors started to close.

“No, wait!” she called out, thrusting her messenger bag between the closing doors to stop them.

After waiting about twenty minutes for the class before his to leave, Lance entered the classroom where his history class was held and sat in his normal seat toward the back corner. Headphones went in his ears and his forehead met the cool surface of the desk. There was a tap on his shoulder that made Lance begrudgingly return to reality. He pulled his headphones from his ears and gave an annoyed look to his Professor.

“What do you want, Dad?” he asked.

Aidan Zimmerman stood before the desk his youngest son sat at. His square jaw clenched and brown eyes narrowed at the tone in Lance’s voice. Aidan set a recent quiz Lance completed and that he had just graded on the desk.

“See me after class so we can discuss your recent performance in my class,” Aidan instructed.

He returned to the front of the class and Lance stared at his quiz, which had a D-minus grade written on it in red ink. Lance sighed in defeat and rested his forehead on the quiz. As more students began to arrive and countless, cacophonous conversations filled the room, Lance plugged his headphones back into his ears to drown them all out.

After class, Lance tried making a hasty escape before his father would notice. He was in no mood for a lecture and the D-minus grade was probably the least of his worries at this moment.

“Lance,” Aidan’s stern voice stopped him just before the doorway.

Twice in a row, Lance thought to himself, and then returned to the classroom. The rest of the students filed outside and the door closed. Aidan packed up his lesson guides and the work the students finished for today into a briefcase.

“Follow me,” he told Lance and led his son out of the classroom.

Lance did not protest as he was led from the classroom to his father’s office down the hall. Aidan held the door for his son and he entered. As Lance sat himself down on a chair provided for students, Aidan closed the door to his office behind them.

“Begin the lecture,” Lance grumbled under his breath.

“I save the lectures for the classroom, Lance,” Aidan responded, “This is a scolding.”

“What am I five?” Lance countered.

Aidan cleared his throat and silenced his son. He sat down on the opposite side of the desk from him, folding his hands together, and Lance noticed the golden wedding band Aidan still wore.

“It’s been two months and I… respected your decision to return to school. I was almost impressed by it, but with your recent performance in my class and assumed performances in your other classes, I can see now that it was a mistake,” Aidan told his son.

“I’m fine,” he responded.

“Are you telling me or yourself?” Aidan asked.

Lance did not answer the question and stared up at the ceiling of his father’s office. Aidan sighed and ran a hand through his short, sandy-blond hair.

“You should drop your classes, son,” Aidan suggested, “I’ll… put in a good word since we’re past the drop date, but you need to focus on yourself right now.”

“Mom wouldn’t want me to quit,” Lance bitterly pointed out.

“She also wouldn’t want you to fail all your classes because you’re not mentally with us. Don’t assume you know what your mother would want for you better than I would,” Aidan argued.

There was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Evelyn once again. She had been working as an assistant for Aidan since the semester began. He was thankful for her help, too, as it hasn’t been an easy couple of months for him either.

“Mr. Z, I got you those copies you…,” she stated before pausing when she saw Lance, “… wanted.”

Lance stood up and approached the door. Evelyn hurried to get out of his way and frowned as he refused to give her any form of acknowledgment. Lance stopped just outside Aidan’s office and had his hands in his pockets.

“You’re busy. I’ll see you when I get home,” Lance told his father before leaving.

Aidan lowered his head and rubbed circles on either side of it with his first two fingers. Evelyn dragged her feet over to his desk and set his copies down.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Z. If I’d known you were speaking to Lance, I wouldn’t have walked in. I…,” Evelyn apologized, but was rendered quiet by Aidan’s raised hand.

“It’s okay, Evie. He’s just hurting and we need to give him his space,” he told her, “Thank you for the copies. You can go home now.”

“Th-There isn’t anything else you need my help with?” Evelyn asked.

Aidan shook his head and cracked a grin. She was always so willing to help, he thought to himself. Aidan cracked his knuckles and stood up, leading Evelyn out of his office.

“I can’t have you doing too much of my work, right?” he asked Evelyn.

“No. Of course not,” she responded, “I will see you tomorrow for Lance’s birthday.”

Aidan nodded and thought about it for a moment. Evelyn started to leave and he wanted to tell her not to come over tomorrow. He knew Lance would not appreciate her presence there. Losing his mother had a drastic effect on Lance and their friendship suffered because of it. Aidan wished he had something that could just instantly make everything better for his son. After Evelyn disappeared around the corner, Aidan returned to his office to continue his work.

He sat back down at his desk and stared at a picture of him, his wife, and their three kids from years ago. Aidan smiled as tears built up in his eyes. He wiped them away and took a breath to recollect himself.

“I’m doing my damnedest, Sera. I hope it’s good enough,” he muttered to himself before diving into his work.

#writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #Phoenix Heart #my wip

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sparklyeaglepoetry-blog · 6 years

Text

Is car insurance expensive?

"Is car insurance expensive?

Im about to get my driver licence and my mom told me that car insurance is really expensive and that's the reason why she wont buy me a car.

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://saleinsurancequotes.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr