#My man shoving Dracula out of the way so a whole game can be about him and his issues good for him

[hypermascbishounen]

I might be stating the obvious here, but I think the Midnight Sun from the original title, probably is referring to Maxim. Firstly because the two castles have a sun/moon motif. Secondly bc if how a version of his theme plays over that opening title screen. But also, bc the whole design of his jacket. Idk maybe it's just me, but the black with the gold flames at the edges makes me think of an eclipse.

[bagadew]

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Runaway Room (Part 1b)

Last time: We (and by we I mean Ryunosuke and Susato) arrived in England, and were almost immediately sent to play lawyer by Daemon Gant’s ancestor, who is definitely going to either die or kill someone later. Despite our client being only the richest of able bodied white men, we quickly found ourselves on the ropes thanks to the worlds least impartial jury. Fortunately we now get to put the buggers on the spot and demand they give us their reasons for convicting my client (and boy had they better be good).

Ryunosuke, the more we learn about that man the more of a cad he becomes. I say we should be very thankful we aren’t doing that.

Let me get this straight, instead of smashing their half baked ideas to smithereens and laughing as I go, I have to use the worlds weakest bricks to build my argument.

Susato, one of them knows one of the witnesses.

Oh, so that’s what we’re doing.

Ok, Ryunosuke, lets get shit stirring!

Well firstly, either the drunk juror’s wrong or Beppo’s overcharging people, so jot that down.

Ooh, we’re pacing!

(Also, I’d like to thank Juror No.4 for backing me up, ma’am you are the only member of this group bothering to make even the slightest bit of effort. For this I thank you.)

Of course! Thank you for putting two and two together like that for me!

(Wait a second, I’ve just realized that we’ve got the KBS slung on our hip! That’s amazing!)

And this lady’s and gentleman, is why we don’t let people who know those involved stand on the Jury.

GET HIS ASS JUROR NO.4!

(You are my favourite juror, you can tell the others if you’d like.)

Excellent work Ryunosuke!

Have you not even been listening?

(Susato is explaining the last ten minutes to him because she has more patience than I ever will.)

>:D

And Juror No.2’s crossed over to our side as well!

>:D

And she’s doing it for much better reasons than Juror No.5!

Juror No.2 you’re winning me back!

Just two more jurors to convince now, so let’s go on to the discrepancy about how the victim was stabbed, and maybe point out that the body was left in the seat it was stabbed it.

Old Lady vs Jack the Ripper, here we go!

(Ten guineas on the granny!)

Haha! His knife got stuck in the table!

(I put it again that this man should have that knife taken away from him.)

Yes judge, and if we’d been allowed to go through the whole trial before the jurors jumped the gun, you’d have known that already.

Yay! We’ve won Granny Thickle back!

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE JURY IS SUPPOSED TO DO YOU NINCOMPOOP?!?

And he’s being really racist now.

Fortunately he’s also rubbing the rest of the jury up the wrong way!

Well I consider this to have been a success Ryunosuke.

Well given that the body was found on the seat and there was no blood on the floor... I’m going to say no.

He wants evidence.

Ok then.

As a wise man with a cool sword once said: I will shove it down your throat and make you choke on it.

(Yeah, we should really have seen Kazuma’s moral dubiousness coming...)

Anyways, let’s show him the crime scene photo then.

WRONG???

Of course! The autopsy report shows he was only stabbed once!!!

Meaning that there was only one incident where the witness was stabbed!

VICTORY VICTORY VICTORY!!!

YEAH!!!

Yes, kill each other!

My Lord, Juror No.3 has started licking his knife and threatening the witnesses now...

I’m a little bummed we didn’t get to convince Juror No.4 seeing as she’s the one putting in the hours up there, but never mind. We’re back on track baby!

HE CRUSHED IT!

Oh my god Ryunosuke, we’ve got a prosecution shut up button!

HE THREW OF HIS DRACULA CLOAK!

Oh please, we all know perjury doesn’t exist in this here!

Oho, so apparently Beppo’s been overcharging his customers. Given the conditions he’s been working in I can’t exactly blame him though.

Unfortunately that does kind of rule out the possibility of an extra passenger though, so I’m not sure it helped us much.

Damn right I do!

‘Absolutely’ Ryunosuke and I share one mind.

Now let’s see if we can clear up that whole ‘I saw the victim stabbed on the floor’ bs.

You know, I’m rapidly warming to Mr Furst. Unlike the other witnesses and the god damn jury, he’s not telling lies, or overinflated by his own self importance. He’s actually taking it seriously and doing his best to be as clear and close to factual as he can.

I mean he could well be the killer for all I know, but right now I’m just enjoying him as a nice gentle guy who’s trying his best. It’s refreshing.

Barok’s trying to point out that we still have one witness who saw the stabbing, to which I say: Yeah, a witness with a reason to lie!

Still, Beppo’s the one I should probably be focusing on here, as he’s saying he saw the victim stabbed in places he couldn’t have been.

Well that was easy.

Mr Fairplay on the other hand is going absolutely ham on his cane.

What’s the matter Mr Fairplay?

Got something to say?

Again Mr Fairplay, being a banker in an Ace Attorney Game is not the commending statement you think it is.

Anyways new statement time!

And what’s this I see? Both his hands were covered in blood? That looks like a new contradiction to me!

You know he’s weirdly insistent about this, and I can’t work out why?

Like, regardless of whether or not he committed the murder, he’s clearly hoping that Mr McGilded’s going to be taken out of the picture as a result.

But if he wants that to happen then this is such a weird thing to lie about. It doesn’t add in any way to Mr McGilded’s ‘guilt’, in fact thanks to his gloves it kind of does the opposite.

But if he’s not lying then he has to be mistaken and I don’t understand what that would mean either.

Wow, Juror No.6 is ready to throw down!

(Juror No.3’s going off as well, but I don’t think that’s anything to write home about.)

NOT IN THE WAY HE REPEATEDLY SAID IT WAS!

I’m no longer so sure. After all, if he was it would be far more in his interest to keep quiet about it or say he was mistaken as soon as we bought the gloves out.

What I’m beginning to wonder though, is if there was a mysterious fifth passenger after all, and their hands were the ones Mr Fairplay saw covered in blood.

Come to think of it, he did say that he didn’t see the victim or killers faces, so that’s a good chance, and one that actually gives some hint as to what our suspect looks like: i.e. small.

Debt time.

IT’S A HUGE DEBT!!!

Good to get proper conformation on that theory then.

ORDAAR!

(If you don’t know about the House of Commons cry of Order you should look it up on YouTube. It’s basically the one good thing to have come out of that place.)

So he did lie about seeing the moment the victim was stabbed then. I guess that leave more room for the idea that the fifth passenger did it.

Actually, come to think of it did Mr McGilded ever tell us where he went to sit in the carriage? Could he have been on the open side, the one Mr Fairplay and Mr Furst couldn’t see from where they were?

Huh, he’s still doubling down.

Again I really don’t think he’s lying here, but I do think he’s mistaken about who’s hands he could see.

Also given how much this statement relies on him being a witness I should probably rule him out of my enquires.

I’m rapidly going back over my notes to see if I ever accused him, but let’s be honest here I did. The False Accusations counter is up to a nice healthy 5/5.

Of course Mr Furst, you’re an angle and we’re all thrilled you’re here.

Ok, well now any doubts I had that Mr Fairplay was telling the truth have been put to rest, thank you Mr Furst. You, me and Susato should form our own breakaway courtroom, Juror No.4 can come if she likes.

Anyway time for more testimony.

Certainly looks that way doesn’t it My Lord?

Now Barok want’s to examine the Omnibus again.

You know what, sure Barok, knock yourself out.

Barok, keep up. It literally a huge contradiction sitting right there.

YES IT MATTERS!!!

Well thanks to Mr Furst, the one good witness, we know that the real killer wasn’t wearing any gloves. Again Mr Furst I thank you.

Wait a second, there was a space under the seat opposite the victim wasn’t there. I know it was full of stuff but was there any room for someone to fit themselves?

Barok’s telling me that there was no trace of blood on Mr McGilded’s actual hands. I’m glad you’ve finally caught up Barok but stop talking now so I can examine the omnibus again.

Yes! A space!

And whoever it was who could fit inside there definitely fits the category of small!

And right on cue it’s time to bring their blind spot to light.

Now, I need to work out if they want to know about the space under the seats or if they just want the seats themselves, because from where Mr Furst and Mr Fairplay were sitting they couldn’t see either.

Fuck it, I’ll just put my cursor half way between the two and hopefully it’ll except whichever one it wants.

Haha, yes... exactly what I was going to say...

MY EVIDENCE IS THE FUCKING BLOODIED GLOVES!!!

Anyways, given that the killer was by all accounts sitting next to the victim with no gloves and bloodied hands, the only person who could have been in the concealed seat was Mr McGilded. Again, did anyone actually bother to check which seat he sat in?

Well done Judge. Still as sharp as ever I see.

Wow, that one hit the light!

Barok, that’s alcohol. If you start a fire in here I’m not going to put you out.

Oh he’s being racist again.

Racist stuff Ryunosuke.

Ok, well let me brake this down into words that a stuck up prick like you would understand. The witnesses never saw the attackers face, but they did see his hands and all agree that they were covered in blood. My clients hands were not covered in blood, and therefor he doesn’t fit the one thing we know about the killer. However we know he was on the omnibus, and the only place he could have been is in the seat that can’t be seen.

... you guys, I think this man might be the OG “protégé” prosecutor. Hugh O’Connor and Sebastian Debeste were simply trending in this mans footsteps.

I’m not really sure how much clearer you want me to be My Lord!

(Also ORDAAAAR!)

Van Zieks is still crawling blindly towards the light, and I suggest we just move on without him.

I know (or at least I hope) he’s just deliberately putting up barriers as the prosecution, but the way he’s doing it really looks like he’s packing his intelligence onto a bus and sending it out to destinations unknown.

(Credit to Ryunosuke for spelling it out for him though.)

Thank you Mr Furst, I knew you’d have my back.

THEN LET’S BRING HIM INTO COURT!!!

(ORDAAARR!!!)

Yeah on what grounds?

I mean this is literally the solution to all our problems.

Yeah, well he probably lied (though I can’t work out why).

Excellent point Ryunosuke!

Now Van Zieks is pointing out that if Mr McGilded lied in his statement there would have been a deliberate reason for doing so. To be honest, as the prosecution, this seems like all the more reason to bring him in.

Anyway we’re demanding his testimony.

WHY THE HELL ARE WE ASKING THEM?!?

Well luckily for us the jury seems to finally be getting its arse in gear and has agreed (fairly unanimously) to let the god damn defendant make a statement in his own murder trial.

Nothing to say here. This just feels like a meme.

HAHA!!! THERE WAS SOMEONE!!!

EAT MY SHIT BAROK!!!

Wait an urchin?

Ace Attorney, I’ve already had a ‘don’t feel good’ case regarding who I’m accusing, don’t make me do that again.

STOP MAKING ME ACCUSE POOR AND FRIGHTENED CHILDREN!

Yeah, they probably would have done, and unlike you I don’t think she’d have been able to pull the ‘I donated a park to this city you know’ trick to win hearts and minds.

I wonder if she was there as a passenger or as a stowaway? Because I’d say that gap under the seat could fit a child pretty easily.

Now Barok’s saying we have no reason to believe Mr McGilded. And he’s right except for, you know, all the evidence...

Wait what.

A smoke bomb just went off!

I really don’t like the face Mr McGilded pulled just then, and he definitely gave a signal for it to be dropped.

...Ah fuck, he’s guilty isn’t he.

And he’s using some kid to cover it up.

Well shit...

[estelofimladris]

Queerness and Death in The Magicians by SE Fleenor (The Removed Syfy Article)

[ NOTE: This article is being reposted in its entirety because it was removed by the Syfy website where it was originally posted. I (estelofimladris) did not write it, but still had it open after its removal. Please read and enjoy - send the writer, S.E. Fleenor, some love if you can. ]

by S.E. Fleenor

SPOILERS FOR THE MAGICIANS SEASON 4 FINALE!

By now you already know that The Magicians’ Quentin Coldwater died in the Season 4 finale. Yes, D-E-D, dead. There’s no resurrection in the works and no trick of astral projection or Niffin state of higher being can bring sweet, depressed, narcissistic Quentin back.

The decision to kill off a major character — the major character, if the Lev Grossman novels still mean anything (they don’t) — is almost always controversial. But we live in the day and age of Game of Thronesand The Walking Dead and Thanos snapping half of the Avengers (and the universe) into nothingness. Any character could die at any moment (and sometimes all of the characters could die at any moment) and that’s the brave, new, kill-happy world our media is made in.

So, why does it matter that Quentin is dead?

Well, my friends, let’s revisit a little trope we like to call Bury Your Gays. Throughout media representations of queer folks, reaching back to 19th-century Victorian novels, the formula has been about the same: An LGBTQ+ character is introduced, they reveal their sexuality or an attraction to a specific person, and then they die, die, die, often horrifically. This trope is also called Dead Lesbian Syndrome due to the overwhelming number of queer women who have been slaughtered onscreen — not exactly the representation queer women have been begging for.

Back when archaic censorship laws ruled the page and the screen, writing about queer characters was taboo and the only way queer writers, or folks who wanted to create queer characters, could include LGBTQ+ characters was by portraying them unfavorably. Queer characters could exist, but only as a warning of what a “perverted” life would bring you. So, in order to get some kind of representation, LGBTQ+ characters had to suffer.

Sounds a little rough, huh? Like who would really bury their gays? Oh, just Buffy the Vampire Slayer, True Blood, The 100, The Walking Dead, The Expanse, Jessica Jones, Xena, Smallville, Battlestar Galactica, Hex, Torchwood, Hemlock Grove, Teen Wolf, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Dracula, The Vampire Diaries, Arrow, Salem, American Horror Story, Ascension, Lost Girl, Scream, The Shannara Chronicles, The Exorcist, Van Helsing, Doctor Who, Gotham, The Handmaid’s Tale, The Purge, and last but not least (and not for the first time): The Magicians.

Let it be noted that I have only included science fiction, fantasy, and horror TV shows on this list and only those that I know about. The list is much, much longer when you include non-genre TV shows and film. (Autostraddle has a very complete list of queer women on TV who have been killed off, for those of you who feel like being sad.)

Oh, did you recognize a bunch of queer-friendly shows in that list? Does that somehow feel like a violation of the promise made when a series goes out of its damn way to present itself as queer and feminist?

EXACTLY. And, that, my sweet babies, is why people are pissed about the death of Quentin Coldwater, generally speaking. We’re sick of seeing queer characters die over and over again. But, what specifically about the death of Quentin is so frustrating? I’m so glad you asked.

Full disclosure: I'm not going to get into the creators' rationale for killing off Quentin. I've read all the interviews with the creators and with Jason Ralph, who plays Quentin, and they all read like a whole lot of familiar BS. (At least Hale Appelman, who plays Eliot, gets it.)

In the first season of The Magicians, Quentin, Eliot, and Margot have a threesome. It’s the first time Quentin has sex with a man, as far as we know, and it’s the first time we see him start to confront his queerness. In Season 3’s “A Life in the Day,” Quentin and Eliot end up in a different Fillory, from before they were born, where they must solve an unsolvable puzzle. As they spend a lifetime working on the mosaic, they fall in love, raise a child, and make their queer family work. Upon returning to the main timeline, barely a word is spoken about their encounter, and queer folks everywhere braced ourselves for that experience to be treated as an anomaly from another timeline. (Another weird queer trope where characters get to be LGBTQ+, but only elsewhere or else when or, or, or…)

Season 4 brought unexpected twists and turns, such as Eliot being trapped inside his own mind by the Monster. With that, many a fan prepared to let Queliot rest. And, then “Escape from the Happy Place,” took us into Eliot’s mind and — after exploring a lot of deep trauma that has a particularly queer flavor to it — back to the day Eliot and Quentin came back from their lifetime in Fillory. As they sit on the steps of the throne room, Memory Quentin and Memory Eliot talk about what happened between them. Memory Quentin asks Memory Eliot why they shouldn’t try to be together, saying “Who gets proof of concept like that?”

Eliot kisses Memory Quentin hard on the mouth and then walks through the door that will allow him to take control of his body for a moment. In the real world, face to face with Quentin, Eliot gets a signal out that he’s still alive. He looks at Quentin and repeats the question Quentin had asked him, following it with, “Peaches and plums, motherf*cker.” When he realizes who he’s looking at, Quentin hesitates, a look of surprise and longing washing over his face.

This deeply emotional and compelling storyline appeared at the same time that Quentin finally officially rebuffed Alice’s advances, telling her he no longer wanted to be together, that he could never see her the same way again.

Then, after all that work, after all the maturation the characters undergo, the series undoes everything, shoehorning in a last-minute declaration of love between Quentin and Alice and killing off Quentin when he uses magic in the Mirror Realm, without ever seeing Eliot again. Quentin then goes to the Underworld branch of the library and meets with Penny 40 while reminiscing over his life and pondering over whether or not he died by suicide. (The treatment of suicide in the episode is problematic and deeply offensive.)

There are probably as many critiques of this ending as there are people who watched it, but I’m going to focus on the main issues that stood out to me.

The series has gone out of its way to confirm Quentin as queer and tease the possibility of a queer love story.

Queer viewers are used to surviving off subtext and tend to be fairly generous in what we’ll accept. Seriously, many a queer considers Thor: Ragnarok to be part of the queer canon when it’s not even implied onscreen that anyone is queer, and have you seen people shipping Carol and Maria in Captain Marvel? Maybe it’s because we’re used to being served scraps that the Bury Your Gays trope feels so pointed. Oh, you’re not happy with the almosts and the could-haves and the alternate timelines of queerness? Well, then we’ll make your characters queer and just murder ‘em right up.

After Season 3, The Magicians could have never acknowledged the relationship between Quentin and Eliot that takes place in another timeline or they could have shrugged and been like, “Must have been the opium in the air!” They’d already done as much with the threesome in Season 1 and all but ignoring Quentin's queerness in the episodes that follow. The series didn’t have to confirm that Quentin wanted to follow his attraction to Eliot and give being together a try. But, The Magiciansdid. The series took the time onscreen to show Eliot and Quentin kissing again, to show Eliot declaring his love for Quentin in their own code, and to show Quentin dedicate his time to helping Eliot get free.

Furthermore, how messed up is it that the series spends a significant amount of time dredging up the trauma of Eliot’s queer youth only to make him realize his biggest regret is how he treated Quentin, just for Quentin to be forced back into the closet? An episode that was deeply evocative and affirming of queerness smacks of voyeurism when taken in the context of the finale.

At the last minute, after confirming his queerness, the series forces a relationship between Quentin and Alice.

It’s hard not to see the last ditch shoving of Quentin and Alice together as an attempt to shove Quentin himself back in the closet. Season 4 shows Quentin rejecting and wanting to be apart from Alice, only for him to decide that he loves her and wants to give their relationship another try because? Honestly, I’m not sure what rationale he uses because it MAKES NO SENSE. And, what the hell does he think of imprisoned-in-his-own-body Eliot while making this decision? To judge from the series, not a whole hell of a lot.

It’s totally cool if queer or bisexual characters date people of different genders — that’s not the issue. The issue is that without a moment of hesitation, Quentin whiplashes from his lover who he knows is trapped by the Monster and cannot see, hear, or reach him to his ex-girlfriend who he has distanced himself from due to her selfish behavior.

In the context of his death, I like to call this particularly messed up turn of events “Bury Your Gays and Stomp On Their Graves” because all the work that had been done to show Quentin’s coming to terms with his own sexuality is undone shortly before he dies.

There are other ways to write a character off a series.

A lot of people fall back on bad faith arguments like: what is a show supposed to do when an actor no longer wishes to appear in the series?

The answer, of course, is: ANYTHING ELSE. They could have done literally anything else to write Quentin out of the show and release Jason Ralph from his commitment. The Magicians takes place in a world WHERE MAGIC EXISTS, where characters leave the main story to go on their own adventures, and where average human beings can become gods. There’s no excuse for falling into lazy storytelling and reifying a trope that has been well-documented and mourned for a long time.

In the novels, Quentin gets kicked out of Fillory and decides to use his discipline, minor mendings, to build a new world for himself and Alice. He essentially walks through a door and never comes back. THAT WOULD HAVE WORKED and it wouldn’t do the work of retraumatizing queer audiences.

It comes down to this: To ignore the wider implications of making a character specifically queer, having him return to his prior unhealthy relationship with a woman, and then killing him off is a disservice to queer people everywhere. It is, at once, a declaration of the meaninglessness of the queer experience and an unforgivable reminder of the expendability of queer lives.

Series like The Magicians (and before it, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) trade on their reputations as queer and feminist shows. We watch them for their powerful women and their kickass queer characters and their storylines that affirm the power of survival. And what do they give us in return? They bury their gays.

Does that mean that all LGBTQ+ characters should be immortal? The rational response would be: of course not. Up until today I may have agreed with that argument, but right now I’m feeling a little less generous. It’s 20-f*cking-19 and there is no excuse for Bury Your Gays to pop up in a progressive TV show. Maybe until series and creators who make their money off queer characters and queer fandom take responsibility for how they use the lives and bodies of queer people, maybe until then, all LGBTQ+ characters should be immortal.

I’m pretty damn sick of watching every character who loves like me, who looks like me, who explores the bounds of their sexuality like me, die. I’m sick of watching characters bust down the doors of the closets that held them back only to have their queerness erased or elided through their deaths. I’m sick of watching relationships between men and women blossom onscreen only to see queer relationships torn apart by death.

Queer people deserve happy endings. We deserve them in real life and we deserve to see them onscreen and we deserve them now.

Until that’s the norm, you better damn well consider any queer character you create immortal. Because if you don’t, we queers will f*cking haunt your basic ass.

[ginger-and-mint]

Halloween Party

This is just a more readable / reblog-friendly version of this post, which was prompted by @fattyatomicmutant and @bellysoupset​.

In which a very scary vampire eats way too much and needs a little help to feel better!

Previous things with Theo and Darren: [1] [2] [3] [4] (this takes place before the most recent one ^^)

“I swear to god I’ve never felt stupider in my life.”

“Never? You’re sure? I can think of a few times you might wanna consider.”

“Very funny, Darren. And yes, I’m sure.” Theo tugged at the high-necked collar on the cheap polyester cape his boyfriend had forced him into. “This is not what vampires look like. Vampires look like me.”

“Yeah, well, you usually look more like a homeless screamo fan than than Count Dracula,” said Darren teasingly. He leaned towards the bathroom mirror and began clumsily applying the black eyeliner they’d picked up at Walgreens that afternoon.

Theo watched him with a mix of affection and exasperation. He’d never seen a grown man get so excited about Halloween. Darren had been talking about dressing them both up as silly horror-movie vampires for weeks, ever since they’d gotten the invitation to his co-worker’s party. As much as Theo didn’t get appeal of wearing a stupid costume, he hadn’t been able to say no in the face of his boyfriend’s adorable enthusiasm.

It could’ve been worse, really. At least the billowing cape hid the shape of his body. Darren had taken him out to feed only yesterday and he was still pretty swollen from it. Better that Darren’s colleagues didn’t wonder why he’d spontaneously sprouted a beer belly.

“I don’t suppose you’re gonna let me put some of this eyeliner on you,” Darren mused as he moved on to his other eye.

“Absolutely not. You’ll poke my eyeball out.”

“Huh! Well, you don’t need it anyway. You’ve got your all-natural eye bags.”

“And I’m not wearing those plastic fangs you got either,” Theo added.

That made Darren’s face fall. “Aw, really? But how are people gonna know you’re supposed to be a vampire?”

“I could just leave my actual fangs out.”

“No you can’t. Not unless you can think of a good way to explain how you got your hands on Hollywood-worthy mouth prosthetics.”

“Okay, true, but I’m not wearing the plastic ones. Do you know how uncomfortable they’re gonna be? It’s hard enough to talk when the stupid long things in your mouth are your actual teeth!” Theo made a face. “I don’t know why everyone wants to be a vampire so bad. I’d be perfectly happy dressing up as a normal human.”

“Aww, cheer up, Theo! It’s the one day of the year that I can actually tell people my boyfriend is a vampire! And the one day of the year I can match you. Ah-ha-ha!” Darren spun around, striking a pose with his cape raised in front of his face. “What do you think?”

Theo felt his heart going all gooey in his chest. “I think you’re the world’s biggest dork,” he said, and the last of his resolve crumbled at the boyish delight that lit up Darren’s face. “All right, fine – give me the stupid fangs.”

The party was actually fun. Darren’s co-workers were a friendly, relaxed crowd, and surprisingly dorky for a bunch of fitness nuts. There were board games scattered around, and little pumpkins to carve, and an old-school horror movie planned for later in the night.

There was also an enormous amount of junk food. Bowls of candy sat on every table. Beer and soda was freely poured into jack-o’-lantern-patterned plastic cups. Cookies, brownies, and other themed treats sat on table against one wall, and after an hour, a delivery car drove up with nearly a dozen boxes of pizza.

Apparently being ridiculously in-shape meant you could really let loose on special occasions, Theo mused. He laughed when Darren pulled a bowl of candy onto his lap and begin fishing out all the Reese’s peanut butter cups for himself, and laughed harder when he took out his plastic fangs in defeat, realizing how difficult it was to eat with them in.

Theo was actually finding the fake fangs pretty comfortable. They were only a little more awkward than his real ones. And he couldn’t eat any party food himself, of course. He accepted the plates people handed him, pretending to nibble at their contents before sidling up to Darren and handing the food off.

It was a few hours into the party that Theo was passed a brownie on a napkin and scanned the room for his boyfriend. He found Darren standing in a corner, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Hey,” said Theo, pushing the napkin into Darren’s hand. “Got something for you.”

“Um…” Darren took a short breath. “No thanks. I really can’t eat that.”

“Well, I sure can’t.”

“Just throw it out then.”

“What? You don’t like brownies?”

“Theo, do you realize how much food you’ve been giving me all night? How much food everyone else has been giving me all night?” Darren shot him a forlorn puppy-dog look. “I’m really, really full…. I’ve probably had like, a whole pizza to myself at this point. Not to mention all those peanut butter cups. And those cookies. And like four cups of soda, and those pumpkin cupcakes, and both of our slices of cake, ugh…. Seriously, my stomach’s done.”

Theo couldn’t help laughing. Usually he was the one whining about fullness as he struggled the get the last of his livestock feasts down, while Darren egged him on. How the tables had turned!

“Well, you’ve gotten this far!” he said cheerfully, echoing Darren’s words to him only the night before. “What’s a little bit more in that tummy, huh?”

Darren hiccuped as Theo patted him on the back. “Ugh. I dunno, I think it might – oh, hi Mark.”

Mark – a big, burly man who was one of the gym’s strength trainers –  grinned as he saw what Darren was holding. “Hey, I baked those brownies myself! What d’you think of ‘em, Darren?”

“Oh….” Darren cleared his throat and took a big bite. “Mmm. Really good.”

“Course they are.” Mark turned his attention to Theo. “I was looking for your boy, actually. Darren’s told us you’re good at word games, Theo. Want to join a round of Scrabble?”

Theo agreed and let Mark steer him over to a side table, his heart swelling a little bit at being included. What a funny thing that here, dressed as a vampire and wearing fake plastic fangs, he felt more like a normal person than he had in months.

He didn’t see Darren again until everyone began shuffling towards the TV for the movie. Seating was limited, and some partygoers were plopping down on the floor, but Darren had already commandeered a big armchair. He was sprawled out in it, head flopped back, his silly cape pooled around him.

Theo wedged himself into the chair beside his boyfriend. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’s it going?”

“Mmm…” Darren mumbled. “Theo, I don’t f–”

“All right, everyone!” the party’s host shouted. “Tonight, we’re going to watch the 1968 horror movie Night of the Living Dead! This cult classic is one of my personal favorites, and so I thought I’d share a little history about it before we get started….”

Theo was pretending to pay attention when he felt a weird rumbling sensation against his side. Beneath him, Darren shifted and groaned.

“Are you all right?” Theo whispered.

“Ughhhh,” Darren moaned quietly. “No. My stomach really hurts…”

Theo slipped a hand under his boyfriend’s cape to feel his belly. He expected to find it a little bloated – but to his shock, Darren’s stomach was sticking out like a ball, hard and packed solid under his stretched abdominal muscles. “Oh my god, Darr. You’re stuffed.”

“Ughhh, I know. I’ve eaten way too much…” Darren burped quietly as Theo’s fingers pressed gently into his tight stomach. “Doesn’t feel good.”

“Poor thing.” Theo shifted in the chair so he could wrap his free arm around Darren’s back. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have laughed at you earlier if I realized you were actually feeling sick.”

“S’all right. I was the one who shoved so much food into my stupid face. Should’ve just told you to throw your portions out.” Darren leaned into Theo’s touch, sighing. “Oof. God. I swear, I can feel my pulse in my tummy.”

“Do you wanna go home?”

Darren let out a strained chuckle. “And tell my co-workers what? That a grown man gave himself a tummyache eating too much Halloween candy?”

“They know you. They probably wouldn’t be surprised.”

It relieved Theo that Darren wasn’t feeling too unwell to laugh. “Well, I dunno if I could walk to the bus in this condition anyway. How about you just keep on rubbing my belly?”

Theo obligingly circled his hand over the big warm curve, smiling as Darren shifted and sighed in relief. As their host finally shut up and the lights went down, Theo nestled his cheek against Darren’s chest and gave his tummy a few gentle pats. “Try to digest before the movie’s over, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Darren mumbled sleepily. “Whatever you say.”

The movement of the bus seemed to be making everything worse. Darren had gone stiff and quiet, and he was hunched over in his seat, his forehead pressed against the cold glass of the window.

Theo reached over to rub his back. “Stomach still bothering you, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Darren winced as the bus bounced roughly over a pothole.

“Is it any better than it was earlier?”

“Not better. Different though. I don’t feel so much like I’m going to explode, but my belly is just… cramping so bad….” He sucked in a pained breath. “Oohhh….”

“Aw. Like indigestion, maybe?” Theo gently slid a hand under Darren’s arm where it was folded around his middle. It wasn’t hard to feel the grumbling and churning going on in his still-bloated belly. “Oh sweetie. It was just so much junk food at that party. No wonder your tummy’s upset.” He pressed his fingers in gently, trying to relieve some of the ache.

Darren groaned and flinched away. “Aah, don’t – hurts too much.”

“Sorry.” Theo went back to rubbing his shoulders instead. “Hang in there, baby, we’re almost home.”

Luckily the walk from the bus stop to Darren’s apartment wasn’t very far. The poor guy was almost bent double the whole way, and Theo had to help him up the stairs.

“Can’t believe I did this to myself,” Darren grumbled as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You say it like we didn’t already know that.” Theo squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Come on, let’s just get you feeling better.”

He helped Darren strip off the stupid costume and got him into bed, where he curled up into a ball like a potato bug. Theo could hear his soft groans from the next room as he searched through bathroom cabinets for something to help.

“Can you sit up, sweetie?” he asked when he returned to the bedside.

“Yeah.” Darren struggled upright. The movement made his stomach grumble, and he let out a difficult-sounding burp. “Ughhh. Gross. Sorry.”

“Hey, whatever helps.” Theo passed him a pink cup of Pepto Bismol. “Drink that. I’m gonna go get that heat pack thing of yours. Be right back.”

By the time Theo returned with the fabric sack of rice, nice and warm from the microwave, Darren had sunk back into the pillows. He stirred as Theo came in. “Can you come here? And just cuddle the hell out of me?”

Theo laughed. “Sounds like a chore, but I guess so.” He tucked the heat pack against Darren’s tummy before climbing into the bed.

They lay like that, silent and snuggled together. Darren still whimpered whenever his stomach was touched, so Theo rubbed gently at his sides instead, trying to help the relax the tightness there. It took some time, but slowly, Darren’s breathing evened and his body relaxed.

“Stomach settling a little?” Theo asked.

“Yeah.” Darren sighed heavily, then chuckled. “Jesus. I haven’t had a bellyache so bad in a long time. Makes me think of being a kid again. Like when I’d eat all my trick-or-treating candy in an hour and get sick as a dog.”

“Oh my god, Darren. Your parents didn’t stop you?” Theo’s own parents had always subjected him to a strict limit on how much of his haul he could eat on Halloween night. Three pieces only; the rest had to be saved.

“Nah. My brother tried, sometimes. He was always the sensible one. My sister was always right there with me.” Darren shifted in Theo’s arms. “God, that was a long time ago. We were such good kids back then, before all of the–”

“Hey. Don’t think about that,” Theo murmured in Darren’s ear, drawing him in closer. “You were a good kid and you grew up to be a good man.” He patted Darren’s stomach as it broke in with a low gurgle. “A stupid man, sometimes, but a good one.”

Darren laughed, although there was a little sadness in the sound. “Yeah. Guess so.” He pressed into Theo’s touch. “Thanks, Theo…. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Theo kissed his cheek softly. “Try to get some sleep, all right? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

[5hfanfiction]

Love Will Remember

Chapter Thirty: Trick or Treating with You

The traffic crawled up the hill, a turtle could’ve moved faster than the cars that were barely moving. Two lines of vehicles, each were capable of surpassing over 100 kilometres were going barely over 20 kilometres every other minute. 

In each car, the driver sat with the radio on that played their favourite songs or the news, trying to find out the source of the congestion. Some talked on cell phones or texted.

Eventually, the traffic stopped moving. Persons stepped out of their cars, sighed in frustration and sat on the hood of it; waiting to get back onto their way.

Sirens were heard, but no ambulance was seen. It was just another day in the city. One person’s misfortune became the inconvenience of the many.

After about half an hour, realizing she would be going nowhere; Lauren Jauregui stepped out of her Jaguar and slammed the door in frustration, she leaned up against her car, running her hands through her hair; which she now removed from its ponytail, she sighed heavily.

Unknowingly to her, someone was watching her from a car away.

She stayed like that for 15 minutes until she grew impatient, pushing off her car, she stuck her head back into her vehicle and honked it’s horn.

“For fucks sake. Hurry up and clear the damn roads!” she yelled in frustration and kicked her car tire.

“You okay there, Miss?” the person asked as they stepped out of their old, run down red sedan.

The woman turned her head to come face to face, with a gorgeous brown eyed brunette. If Lauren hadn’t been so madly in love with Camila, she would’ve definitely tried to get the woman’s number.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She grumbled. “Not like we’re stuck in traffic that isn’t even moving,” she gestured with her hands. “Some people have places to be.”

“I’m not blind. I can see that we’re stuck in traffic,” she chuckled which caused the green eyed girl to scoff. “You’re not very patient aren’t you?” she asked smirking.

“Do I know you?” Lauren asked ignoring the woman’s question. She was clearly annoyed that she was being spoken to. She hadn’t even had her morning coffee and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone.

The brunette laughed. “Nah, you don’t.” Lauren took her eyes off the woman; she saw that people were starting to get back into their, maybe the road was being cleared up. The CEO breathed a sigh of relief and turned to enter into her car. “But I know you,” she said softly.

The green eyed woman hadn’t heard it, just like everyone else, she was going to head back into her car, but she was stopped by the strange woman.

“I have this for you,” she said as she pulled an envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Lauren who looked at it in confusion.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Who…who gave this to you?”

The woman just smiled, patted the CEO gently on the back, before getting back into her red sedan. “You’re smart, Lauren. Act like it.” She winked at her before driving off.

Lauren stared at the envelope for a few seconds before the blowing of horns caused her to realize just where she was. She got into her vehicle and drove off until she reached somewhere she could’ve pulled off the road.

Lauren tore the envelope open and pulled out the letter from it.

Dearest Lauren,            I’m sorry if you’re getting confused but as I said before…it would be worth it. There’s a special place that you must go to, where you put your happiness aside and spent the day doing something you never imagined that you would be doing…especially on Halloween. 

Signed, Back to December

“What does all this bullshit mean?” she crumpled the paper and slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

She tumbled the ignition and the car roared back to life.

Lauren got back onto the highway, her foot on the gas, as she sped, weaving in and out of cars. She got to a private road, which was literally in the middle of nowhere; again, she pulled aside and took out her phone.

“Wassup, Lauser?” Dinah’s voice boomed through the speakers of the iPhone. “I can’t believe you’re calling me. I feel so special.”

The green eyed woman rolled her eyes. “Dinah, do you remember your family’s cottage near Lake Harmony?”

“Yeah I do. I haven’t been there in a while though. Why are you asking?” There were muffled voices in the background that the older woman couldn’t quite make out. “Guys! Shut up!” Dinah whisper-yelled.

Lauren chose to ignore her friend’s last statement. “I was um – wondering if I could head on there. But I don’t have a key. Do you think the security would let me in?” she queried.

The Hansens, had bought a little cottage near Lake Harmony many years ago; so whenever it was the holidays; both families would go there and spend some time together, occasionally it would be the group of friends along with Lauren’s younger sister.

They hadn’t been back there in years, the last being Halloween many years ago. Over the years, as the women grew up, they chose to go clubbing instead of spending time in the outdoors.

“Why do you want to go there? It’s been years.” Dinah asked.

Lauren sighed heavily. “Listen, can I go or not? I’m not in the mood to explain to you every little aspect of my life.”

“Well…I guess you can try.” She sighed, “Just tell the security that I gave you permission.”

“Okay. Thank you. Bye.” She didn’t wait for a response; she hung up and drove off. It only took a couple of minutes until Lauren came to a halt near a security booth, which had a barrier blocking the road from unwanted guests from entering.

“Hi. I’m Lauren Jauregui. I’m headed to the Hansen cottage. Dinah Jane Hansen gave me permission.”

The security nodded. “Yes, Ms Hansen called a few moments ago. You may proceed.” The man dressed in the security uniform stepped out of the booth, handed Lauren a key then approached the barrier, to allow her vehicle through. “Have a good evening, Miss Jauregui.”

***

*Hansen Cottage*

Slamming the door shut, Lauren pulled the cottage’s key out of her pocket and jabbed it into the lock. The door opened and she entered the Lake house, to be greeted to the aroma of flowers. Dinah’s family was always fond of that; it made them feel as though they were back home in Tonga.

Shutting the door, Lauren ventured further into the room. She was hit with a sense of familiarity. This was one of the places she and Camila had spent some time together. The cottage was well kept as there were persons who came in every so often to clean it.

This cottage held a lot of memories; for Lauren especially. She walked around the living room and stopped when she came across a bowl of candy that was situated nicely under the framed photograph of both Camila and Lauren; dressed up in their costumes a few years ago. The woman furrowed her eyebrows and picked up a candy bar. The receiving of letters was starting to creep her out. She couldn’t understand why someone would want to be doing this in the first place. 

Shuffling was heard coming from inside. Was someone here? Dinah said she hadn’t been back here in years. So how was there fresh candy in here? Everything should’ve been spoiled by now.

“HELLO?!” Lauren yelled out.

She placed the candy bar down and grabbed the nearest makeshift weapon; which was lava lamp. She then went to move around the cottage to see if she found anyone.

Upon opening every single door, she turned up empty handed.

There was rustling coming from outside and the green eyed woman could’ve sworn she saw a hooded figure staring right at her. The moment she shut her eyes and opened them back, the figure was no longer there.

Slowly, Lauren tiptoed and peered through the window.

No one was there.

“God. I must be going crazy,” she muttered to herself.

The green eyed woman headed back into the living room. She stopped in front of the picture over the bowl of candy and removed it from the wall. She held it in her hands and stared at Camila. The younger version to the woman she was still hopelessly in love with, was dressed up in a Princess Jasmine outfit while, yet again, the green eyed woman was in a vampire costume.

The younger Lauren had her arm slung over Camila’s shoulder, whilst the both girls were baring toothy grins. Dinah and Normani had planned a Halloween party and they sort permission from the Hansens to have it in the cottage.

Besides the girls, they invited a couple others of their college friends. A party wasn’t something Camila had been looking forward to, but at the ending of the night, it turned out to be a lot better than expected.

*Flashback*

“Please don’t tell me your dressing up as a vampire AGAIN, Laur,” Ally rolled her eyes as she laid her costume our on her bed. She was dressing up as Cleopatra, whilst every year Lauren would go as a vampire because she claimed that Count Dracula was her alter ego. And every year, the girls would scold her and tell her that she was uncreative.

Baring fake fangs and a terrible rendition to Dracula’s accent, “I’m going to drink your blood. Blah, blah, blah,” Lauren dodged a pillow that her friend threw at her. “Bitch…I just so happen to love dressing up as a vampire okay. I think I look hot,” she playfully flipped her hair.

"You do,” Ally winked. “But it’s over used,” the other girl stuck her tongue out like a five year old causing the older girl to laugh. “What’s your girlfriend dressing up as?” she asked smirking.

The raven haired girl playfully shoved her friend. “She’s not my girlfriend. But she wouldn’t tell me. Something about it being a surprise. I think Dinah knows, but she wouldn’t tell me either.” She pouted.

Ally sent a wink. “She’s not your girlfriend yet.”

Both girls had been out on a few dates so far. They were casual dates, which Camila quite enjoyed. Lauren had no intentions of rushing into anything with the brunette because she knew a relationship would be a whole new playing field and she wasn’t sure if the girl was up to it as yet.

As much as she loved going on dates with the girl, Lauren wanted to make it official because she really didn’t see herself wanting to be with anyone just yet. But again, she had some self restraint and wanted to ensure that Camila was okay with what was going on between them, until she took it a step further. “Let’s get dressed then head downstairs and see if there’s any last minute prepping we need to do.”

Lauren nodded and grabbed her ‘costume’ and headed into the bathroom leaving Ally to change in the bedroom.

***

After thirty minutes the pair was ready and went in search of the others. People had already gathered downstairs, music was playing through the speakers; it wasn’t loud enough to have to yell over the music, some of their friends were already chugging down some of the concoction that Dinah and Normani had made.

Ally swore off drinking because being the most responsible of everyone there, she wanted to ensure that everyone apart from having a good time, remained safe.

The girls spotted Normani; clad in an Egyptian ‘mummy’ costume, at the far end of the living room who was engulfed in conversation with this guy from her dance class; everyone and their mothers knew Normani had a crush on him, except for him of course.

The girls decided against interrupting them. Ally spotted a group of her friends when they entered through the door and she excused herself from Lauren to go greet them. A guy, who the green eyed girl had never met, came up to talk to her. His eyes were already glossed over causing the girl to wonder just how much he had to drink. He must’ve only got here, so it wasn’t possible to be drunk already. Right?

“Wanna dance?” He asked as he removed his red solo cup from his lips. The song that was currently playing ended and switched to another more upbeat one. The guy was reeking of alcohol and even though Lauren drank; which was occasionally, she found it to be a turn off and pretended to not hear the guy hoping he’d take a hint and walk away; which eventually he did.

She thanked the gods and went to grab a drink. Dinah and Camila weren’t anywhere to be seen. Sipping on her drink, she walked around and mingled with some of her friends. Lauren felt someone gently tap her shoulder and when she turned around, that was it. Her breath was caught in her throat and her jaw was practically on the floor.

“Hi,” Camila said shyly when she realized Lauren wasn’t going to say anything. She looked down bashfully.

“Camz..you..you look. Wow,” Lauren stuttered as her eyes ran over Camila’s body. The younger Cuban was dressed in a blue Princess Jasmine costume with a tiara on her head. She had a side braid to compliment the outfit. “Just..wow,” the girl breathed causing the brunette to blush furiously.

A chuckle escaped one of Lauren’s friends along with Dinah; who was dressed as a spy, had a shit eating grin on her face. She sent a wink Lauren’s way before walking off to hang with her friends. “Real smooth, Casanova.” Lauren turned to glare at her friend who smirked back in response. “What Lauren here is trying to say, 'Camz’, is that you look beautiful and you left her speechless.” Camila blushed even more. “I’m Alexa. It’s nice to meet you.”

Camila looked up to be met with brown eyes staring at her. “I’m Camila. It’s nice to meet you too.” They exchanged warm smiles. Lauren’s friends excused themselves after chatting for a while and left the girls to talk.

The green eyed girl hadn’t once said a word. She kept admiring Camila and the way she looked so effortless in such a simple costume. It was only now that she realized that everyone was dressed in rather sexual costumes except her Camila, it was a nice change. She looked adorable.

“Lauren?”

“Mmm?”

“Can you..um..can you not drink tonight?” Camila asked shyly as she was looking at the almost empty cup in the girl’s hand. “I’m..not you know..comfortable being around alcohol..” she mumbled out the rest. Knowing the girl’s past, Lauren nodded her head and threw away her cup without even protesting the girl’s request.

They walked around and Lauren introduced Camila to someone of their guests. She noticed just how uncomfortable the young Cuban seemed and she tried to ignore it but she couldn’t. The entire atmosphere was a no-no to Camila. The pungent smell of alcohol, the sweaty bodies, the loud music, it wasn’t something the brunette had liked especially the alcohol. Due to her father being an alcoholic, she hated it.

“Do you want to dance?” Camila asked. She wasn’t much of a dancer and she wasn’t sure if Lauren was one but she wanted to make this night okay for the girl.

Growing up, she didn’t have any friends, which meant she never went to any parties, so this was all new to her. She wasn’t quite comfortable being around this atmosphere either, but she wasn’t going to let Lauren know. Their time together, the green eyed girl was always the one making compromises and doing whatever Camila wanted. She wanted Lauren to be interested in her; even though the green eyed girl was clearly into her, the brunette was always having her doubts.

Lauren saw the hesitance when the girl asked and she smiled softly. “Camz,” she shook her head. “You don’t want to be here do you?”

Camila’s eyes opened widely as she looked into Lauren’s green ones. “I..I do..Why would you ask that?”

“Because you look so uncomfortable,” she laughed softly. “Why did you agree to be here, if you didn’t want to?” Lauren slipped her hand into Camila’s without a warning and this was one of the few times she hadn’t flinched. The brunette intertwined their hands and smiled softly when she looked down at them.

“I..I guess it’s because you seemed so excited. I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I don’t really like parties and being around alcohol,” she sighed. “I’ve never really did the whole Halloween thing either. So I guess I’m just not used to this.”

Lauren reached out with her free hand and stroked the other girl’s face. She smiled at how thoughtful Camila was being. But she mentally scolded herself for not realizing sooner that the girl wouldn’t have had a good time at the party. “Can you go wait for me by my car? I’m going to go grab my keys and tell the girls we’d be heading out.” She didn’t wait for a response and she ran back upstairs to grab her things.

“But Lauren…” Camila furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the spot where Lauren disappeared to. She sighed and walked out of the cottage. “Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut?” she muttered to herself as she lent up on Lauren’s Evoque. “I’m so stupid.”

“No you’re not,” Camila jumped. “You’re adorable.” Lauren draped her jacket over Camila’s shoulders and opened the passenger’s door for the girl to get in. “And you’re very sweet for wanting to come to the party even though you don’t like it. But let’s do something the both of us would enjoy doing, yeah?”

The girl sat in the passenger seat and watched Lauren close her car door. It was only when she entered on the driver’s side, the older Cuban saw the confused expression plastered on Camila’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I..I thought you wanted to be in the Halloween party?”

Lauren started the engine and drove off. “I wasn’t really having a good time if I’m being honest. I spent most of the time looking for you and then when I realized you were taking forever to get dressed,” she teased. “I went to mingle with some friends and continued thinking about you. It doesn’t matter if I’m not at the party. I’m just glad I’m with you.”

Camila felt her heart practically melt at the girl’s words. They weren’t girlfriends and she had no problem with whatever they were currently. Friends who had a romantic interest in each other and went out on dates?

Probably.

Slowly, she was started to feel and believe Lauren’s actions when she admitted her feelings towards her. It was still hard for her to believe but she was trying. “I’m glad I’m with you too, Laur.” She took her eyes off the road for a split second to look at Camila, sending her a smile, she turned back to face the road. “Where are we going?”

“Well you said you’ve never done the whole Halloween thing before and I mean, we’re a bit too old for the trick or treating, so how’d you like to hit up a few gas stations; buy a ton of candy and we can drive around for a bit?” Lauren asked with a cheesy grin on her face. “It’s practically trick or treating but just in an unconventional sense.”

Camila giggled and shook her head. “You’re really weird, Laur but also very sweet. I guess we can do it.”

“Well we were going to do it whether you want to or not.” She chuckled.

After a few minutes of driving, Lauren came to the first gas station. Initially, Camila wasn’t into it but after the third gas station, she had one of the hugest smiles on her face, when they cashed the candy and left.

She may have missed out the going from house to house as a kid, but this was the next best thing, and nothing could company to doing this with her sort of girlfriend. They bought a wide variety of candy until Lauren thought it was enough because they might just be giving themselves diabetes.

***

“Okay…um I think that’s the big dipper there,” Lauren pointed at a random cluster of stars that looked nothing like the little dipper.

Camila giggled. “No it’s not! That looks like literally nothing,” she fed the other girl a piece of her crunch bar then took a bite herself. Halloween turned out to be a lot better than expected.

The couple drove around for a while, until Lauren came upon this secluded area. There were only a couple other cars in the area, so they weren’t exactly alone; hopefully if they were being hacked to death, someone would see and come to their assistance.

“You couldn’t let a girl pretend right?” Lauren laughed and tore open another candy bar. “Okay, I think this is my last one. I’m stuffed.”

“It’s literally the last one, Laur. I can’t believe we ate all that,” Camila looked at the wrappers they had scattered on the blanket they were sitting on. The girl took a bite from the Twix bar Lauren was holding, when she wasn’t looking.

“Hey! That’s mine,” the Cuban stuck her tongue out. “Real mature, Camz.” She laughed.

“Let me be the first to say, that this is the best Halloween I’ve ever had,” she threw herself down to star up at the stars. The sincerity lacing her voice and the huge smile on her face, made it hard for Camila to question it, so she smiled and looked down at her lap.

They stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying the company of one another, until Lauren sat up and stared at Camila.

“You’re absolutely beautiful. You know that right?” The brunette blushed furiously at the comment. “And you’re even more beautiful when you act like you don’t know it.”

Camila took a deep breath and moved closer to Lauren, even though the girl was a few inches away. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She had never been the first person to initiate a kiss, it was always the raven haired girl but tonight, when words failed her, she knew the next best thing she had to do.

Camila brought her face closer to Lauren’s, the shock was evident in the emerald eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

She gently took hold of the older girl’s waist, with the other hand going behind her neck; her fingers began to play with the hair at the back of Lauren’s neck.

The older girl’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and had to concentrate on what was going to happen, instead of melting at the delicious tingle Camila’s fingers were sending through her body.

Each time the brunette touched her, she couldn’t help but swoon. The sparks it elicited were something that words couldn’t have even begun to describe.

And before she knew it, warm, soft lips were on hers and she was kissing her right back. It wasn’t something either girl ever thought they would get used to, because every time they kissed, it felt like the first time all over again. Eventually, Camila pulled away leaving Lauren breathless.

She opened her eyes slowly to be met with brown ones already looking at her intently. “I adore you so much, Cabello. You have no idea.” She brought the girl’s hand to her lips and gently kissed each knuckle.

“I adore you too, Jauregui. So much.”

*End of Flashback*

She hadn’t realized she was crying until she saw the clear drops on the picture frame. Sniffling, Lauren wiped at her nose and she dried the tears from the picture.

If Lauren could’ve wished for anything, she would’ve wished to go back to that day, or simply any other day where she still had Camila in her life. It wasn’t the same being here, and living her life without her.

Whoever was doing this was sure as hell making it a lot harder to move on from the girl who left and broke her heart. Maybe that was their intention. Or maybe it was just to have her hurting even more. She didn’t know.

But what she did know, was that even after all these years, she still adored Camila Cabello.

***

Wattpad: Commander_Camren

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

Cat and Mouse Chapter Four: Confrontations (are when two stubborn people won't shut up)

Charlie wasn't there when I got home, so it was just me and Ari until he came in from work.

I briefly debated storming off to search for Jasper and insist on knowing why he hadn't told me, but decided against it. He didn't need me screwing up his life any further than I already had and I definitely didn't want to run into Edward.

I hauled myself up the stairs and to the first room, which was inhabited by the girl who was claiming to be my sister. She was coloring in the book I had gotten her for her birthday.

"Hey, little girl," I purred.

"Mommy!" She hopped to her feet and was squeezing me in seconds.

"How was school?"

"It was boring! We learned numbers and our A-B-C's. The teacher called it the Awpha-somethin'."

"You learned the Alphabet?" I corrected her gently.

"Yeah, but I already know it! I can read too! Remember when you read that book about the guy who was a vamp and those thwee girwls who worked fo him and he drank the guy's blood and he lived in that big house in that place?"

I nodded. I knew exactly what she was talking about. I had been reading Dracula and she had curled up with me. I had thought she was watching Sesame Street but she had really been reading over my shoulder.

"I knew 'most evewy word!" She proclaimed proudly. I laughed softly and looked down at her with amusement.

"I'm sure you did, Princess. You're a fast learner."

"Can I show you my pictue when I'm done?"

"Sure. Let me know so I can see it."

She nodded and threw herself back onto her bed, scribbling madly. I chuckled softly to myself. She was a fast learner… that's what scared me the most.

I sighed and flopped down onto my bed. Today had been a long and stressful day, and it was only the beginning. Things would get much worse for us here.

"Good God, how could I be so stupid?!" I screeched into my pillow. All the moving we'd done was to avoid the problem I knew I'd have with Edward and now I've gone and walked right into his trap with my eyes wide open. I could only hope that he hasn't been around Ari, because one look at her and he would know in an instant. She had his hair and the green eyes to match, and there would be no doubt about it.

"God has nothing to do with your stupidity." I jolted upright and barely avoided bashing my head on the wall beside me.

"Your sister, however, is pretty smart for her age. It would be a shame for such talent to go to waste."

I growled and made for the door, but he blocked my way and shoved me back into the room.

"That was stupid." He amended.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" I had no patience for him on my best of days, but he'd just entered into my room like some creepy stalker and threatened my baby girl. My intolerance level was through the roof, and I wanted nothing more than to bash his head in! I couldn't though, because whatever pain was caused to him would be felt by me ten-fold. Stupid imprint.

"I heard what Jasper told you." And this is relevant because...

"That has nothing to do with why you're here." I bit out.

"My brother's little mind trick didn't work on me, Bella. I remember everything now." Edward purred, voice eerily comforting.

His grip was firm enough that a flick of his wrist could yank my head from my shoulders. A sharp whine escaped me, but I froze when his glare pieced my own. Apparently the whole pain thing didn't work for vampires. 

Stupid imprint. 

"We'll be together soon, love. I've already convinced my family that you are the one for me. You just have to play the part. We'll pick up right where we left off… And, uh, for your sister’s sake, don’t try anything stupid. I will always find you." He purred dangerously into my ear. 

His cheek rubbed against mine and it took everything I had not to roll my eyes.

This fucker and his games... 

I stood still as his stone cold arms wrapped around my shoulders and he brushed his lips against my cheek. Then, in true 1920′s Edward Cullen fashion, he was out the window. He always was a bit dramatic for my taste.

I stumbled back to my bed and threw myself on it, finally letting my tears slip. It was obvious that he hadn't changed a bit. I knew he would make good on all of his threats if I didn't do exactly what he wanted, but I’ve always been my own person, and everyone I’ve come across had acknowledged and respected that.

It figures that the one man I can never escape turns out to be a self-righteous jackass with his head back in the 1950′s.

"I'm sorry," Jasper's voice drifted to my ears. If I hadn't heard him then I would  know he was nearby simply because the heat radiating off him matched my own. "I couldn't leave without them following me."

"It's okay." I gasped out. "I'm okay."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't bother to move, allowing my tears to soak his shirt.

I don't break down often and certainly not around Ari or those I don't trust. Being around Jasper allowed me to show my true emotions. I might as well; he's seen what I go through. He was one of the few people I would ever confide in.

"What happened?" He asked.

"He said he remembered everything… that we'd pick up where we left off."

"Indeed you will." Jasper snorted.

"I'm not letting him anywhere near her." I spat, whipping around to glare at hi. That turned out to be a mistake. I eased my head back to my pillow with a barely audible whimper., but it was enough for Jasper’s rage to start spilling over, strong enough to taste. 

“It was bad enough that Edward might know who Ari is. I couldn't count on him not to try anything stupid with her in the next room over. I didn't need her to see that.”

"I can handle him if you let me." My old friend half-sang in a menacing growl.

"I should have known he would be here… I should have figured it out when you told me where you were going. Jesus, I’m being stupid. Gimme a moment."

"For what?" He wondered.

"I can't afford to sound weak and I don't want them badgering you because of me. You should go home."

"You need me more than they do."

"It should be the other way around! They're supposed to be your family!" 

The empath snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to do my job and if the Cullens can't see that-."

"You're staying." I growled flatly, cutting off his train of thought. 

His wife being naive enough to succumb to my former husband's wiles, didn’t make the rest of them  that foolish. Besides, from what I could tell, they genuinely liked Jasper. There was also the fact that I'd met Dr. Cullen briefly, since Jasper trusted him enough to ask for help when I gave birth to Ari. The golden-eyed doctor had taken one look at me and wrapped Jasper aside the head, insisting that he should have asked sooner before setting things up for me.

"Whatever." Jasper huffed, jerking me from my thoughts. I could tell he was trying to appease me, so I dropped it. 

"You're gonna have to face him someday, Bella, I can't interfere every time and when I do get my hands on him, I'll kill him. There's no doubt about that."

"I have to break the imprint. Hopefully I can do it before he gets any worse."

"He'll turn them against me if I help you." Jasper admitted. "I already know Alice will believe him. He's brainwashed her into thinking you're his one true love."

"They're in for one hell of a surprise." I huffed.

"Half the coven still thinks you're human. What happens when they find out that your sister is your daughter and Edward's not the prude little virgin they think he is?" He scowled quietly.

I tensed and closed my eyes.

"Go home, Jasper, I'll call you when I need you, if I need you."

"You were right the first time."

"What did you see?" I asked reluctantly. He froze.

"Nothing." He lied. "Get some sleep, Bella, tell Ari I said hi."

"Sure, Jas. Whatever."

"Be careful." He insisted. I nodded and he climbed out the window. 

I shut it and sighed, exhausted. If Edward wanted to spy on me tonight, he'd have Jasper and Charlie to get through, and as much as Charlie liked the good Doctor and his wife, he'd have no qualms about putting Edward in his place, no questions asked. Charlie didn't play around when it came to our safety, no matter what he didn't know.

Jasper was back before his wife had predicted. She'd seen him coming, but not for another half-hour. They were all sitting on the couch, obviously awaiting his return. Carlisle had a knowing look in his eye and Jasper nodded imperceptibly.

"How did you get back so quickly?" Alice demanded.

"Don't act like you've never seen a vampire with powers." He snorted. He felt better than he had in awhile. He had a purpose again, something he’d apparently lost during his time here.

"Last I checked, feelings can't get you a mile in a second." Edward sneered.

Last I checked, domestic abuse is illegal.

“You manipulative little shit!” Edward growled. 

Funny, I was about the say the same to you. 

“Why do you even care about her? She’s just some human that I happen to have a taste for.” 

Because you’re baiting her, Edward. It’s impolite to play with your food.

“What I do in my spare time to pursue my interests is none of your business. Stay away from that girl, Whitlock. With your track record I’d never have a  chance. You’d eat her first.” 

“Right, because I’m the one with the mind of a wild animal and the emotional range of a flea.” Jasper sneered through bared teeth.

“Work on your relationship before you go hounding me about mine, asshole.” Edward scoffed. 

Jasper narrowed his eyes and glanced at Alice. 

“I don’t suppose there’s a reason everyone’s favorite psychotic telepath reeks he way he does, is there?” He chuckled bitterly.  Alice scoffed and glared at him. 

“I have nothing to say to you.” She sneered. “Go hang around that human bitch and leave me to my own business.” 

“I will, thank you. Be careful, Masen. With the road you’re heading down, your past life will come back to bite you.” 

And not in the way you like.

Jasper snorted, tasting the guilt that flowed from Alice like a waterfall, before shaking his head and walking out, letting the front door slam behind him. He’d given everyone plenty to think about, and there was no way he was sticking around while the rest of the coven got their heads out of the clouds. 

[toosicktoocare]

@its-a-goddamn-heartbreak requested a companion fic for my sick Jughead fic where Archie is sick now. Here you go!

For the third time since the game started, Archie fumbled the football. His coach was yelling from the sidelines while his teammates were spewing nasty comments in is direction, but all Archie could really concentrate on was his stomach. He had been feeling off all day, but he pegged it on pregame nerves; however, he was starting to think that he may have severely underestimated these so called “nerves.” 

It had only been two days since Jughead recovered enough to come back to school, and while Archie did not ask why, he agreed to allow Jug to stay at his house while sick when Jug requested it. 

Archie had spent three days nursing Jughead back to health, so he really shouldn’t be surprised if he picked up his friend’s bug. But he had a game to play-- his coach had been hyping this game up all week, so he couldn’t afford to disappoint what felt like the entire town there to watch. 

He felt his throat tightening as a strong wave of nausea washed over his body, and he swallowed quickly. 

“Andrews!” 

Archie’s eyes shifted towards his coach, and it was then that he noticed his team filing off the field. He glanced towards the score board, wincing at the score before his eyes zeroed in on the time. It was halftime already, and they were getting annihilated. 

He ripped his helmet off before starting towards the locker room with his coach hot on his heels. 

“Andrews, did you forget that we are playing a game?” 

Archie moved on shaky legs to the nearest bench. “No,” he muttered, pressing his fist to his mouth while wrapping his free arm around his stomach. 

“Then play the damn game!” 

Archie visibly winced at his coach’s tone. He feared what would happen if he opened his mouth to reply, so he offered a small nod that left his coach sighing. 

“Don’t make me regret giving you Jason’s number.” 

Archie stared hard at his coach’s back as the older man stormed out of locker room. He faintly heard his coach yell “talk some sense into your friend!” before watching Jughead shove the door open. 

“Count Dracula! Have you come to suck our blood?” 

Archie jumped up, fully prepared to deck whoever was being an asshole to Jug, but he found himself being forced back down by a pale hand on his shoulder. 

“Jug?” He asked, eyeing his friend, who only squeezed his shoulder in response. 

“Coach wants you out for warm ups before the second half,” Jughead announced, ignoring the few football players shoving into him as they made their way back onto the field. When Archie moved to stand up, Jughead pressed him back back down onto the bench once more. “Not you,” Jughead hissed out. 

Archie stared at his friend with furrowed brows. He opened his mouth to reply, but his words got caught in his throat when he felt Jug’s cool palm press against his forehead. 

“Shit,” Jughead said, tone laced with worry. “You’re burning up.” 

Archie turned his head away. He didn’t need this right now-- he had a game to play. 

“And your stomach?” Jughead asked just as Archie stood from the bench, which proved to be a bad idea. 

Archie pressed his hand over his mouth as he shoved past Jughead to the nearest trashcan, making it just in time to empty the contents of his stomach. 

“Well that answers that,” Jughead said, moving to lean against a wall beside Archie. 

“I’m f-fine,” Archie rasped out in between gags. He gripped the edges of the trash can as his stomach cramped violently. 

“Yea, and I’m 6′5 and blond,” Jughead replied flatly. He watched with a softened expression as another wave left Archie trembling and retching into the trash can. “I got you sick..” 

Archie sighed once he was pretty sure he was done for the time being. He staggered back to the bench, shaking and panting from exertion. “It’s fine,” he breathed out, locking eyes with Jughead’s worried ones. “I just need to get through the second half of this game then I can rest.” 

“I highly doubt that you will benefit the team in your condition,” Jughead said. “And your playing in the first half is enough evidence to back that up.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Archie muttered. “I have to play.” 

“Archie, you’ll throw up or pass out. You can’t,” Jughead pressed further, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Jason would--”

“You’re not Jason!” Jughead shouted, anger quickly deflating upon noticing Archie’s shaky, white-knuckled grip on his helmet. Jughead moved until he was crouched in front of Archie. “You’re sick, Arch, and I’m to blame because you helped me. So let me take you home and return the favor.” 

Archie sighed, dropping his helmet onto the floor and pressing his face into his open palms. He knew Jughead was right. His stomach was doing flips, and he felt cold and ached all over. He just couldn’t handle the fact that he would be letting down the team and the whole town. 

“Andrews!” 

Archie and Jughead both looked towards the door just as the coach came rushing in. 

“You gonna get back out here, or what?” 

“I--”

“No,” Jughead answered, cutting Archie off. “He’s going home because he’s sick.” 

They both watched at the coach seemed to study Archie-- narrowed eyes moving from head to toe. 

“Fine,” the coach finally said. “You weren’t much help on the field anyway.” With that, the coach stormed out of the locker room. 

Archie all but deflated as soon as the door slammed behind the coach. He wrapped his arms around himself as shivers wracked his body, yet he could feel himself breaking out into a light sweat as the lingering nausea kicked back in full gear. 

“Come on, big guy,” Jughead grunted as he helped Archie stand. “You’re dad is here right? We should go find him so he can take us home.” 

“Us?” Archie questioned with furrowed brows. He craned his neck to meet Jughead’s eyes. “You weren’t joking about returning the favor?” When Jughead scoffed and shook his head, Archie stopped walking. “Jug, you don’t have to.” 

“Well, that’s too bad because you're stuck with me,” Jughead replied easily, wrapping his small arm around Archie’s waist. “Think you can make it home, or do you need to throw up again?” 

Archie glanced over towards the trash can. He pressed a hand against his stomach and shook his head. “I can make it.” 

Jughead nodded before starting towards the door, supporting as much of Archie’s weight as he could manage. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.” 

[thegnasticious]

Dwayne, The Pool Guy

I’m a man of stories. If you’ve got a story, I’m all ears all day.

My story is a simple one

I grew up in a small Southern town in a typical African American family.

We dealt with people throwing us bad glances when we grew up, all based on our color, our demeanor.

Some say racism died with Martin Luther King, but if you walk with someone of my color enough, you’ll notice it hasn’t. Imbalance is worse than it ever was, politics and technology work like gas to a fire.

I never thought this was a problem, not bad enough to ruin my life. I used to see the Neo Nazi’s rev’ing their trucks behind the high-school football games, waiting to infect the parties with their self-brewed drugs and rhetoric. You’d see them picking on people like me in the hallways, sometimes it escalated to physical harm but that was seldom documented, or witnessed. All of this was what it was, until a Brother of mine, Nadeus, didn’t show up to school one day.

We knew he had bad habits, and bad people following him. I always tried to see past it, because he was my best friend, all I knew from the ages 9-20 outside of my family. I remember the day I met him, we were skate boarding at the local park. It was a sunny day, the birds were out chirping and there was a cool breeze blowing about. I was skating down the entrance way when I almost ran into him. His skateboard shot out in to crowd of people watching aside.

“What the hell are you doing man?” he said to me.

“I didn’t see you, I’m sorry” 

He looked at me sternly for a few seconds and walked over to grab his skateboard.

He was tall for his age 

with a bald brown head gleaming in the sunlight.

Everybody cleared as he approached.

He returned with his skateboard and said,

“What’s your name?”

“Dwayne, what’s your’s?”

“Nadeus”, he responded.

“You know any tricks?” he asked.

“Yea, I just learned a pop shove-it” 

I dropped my board, 

sunk my feet into the movement and kicked the board up,

spinning it throughout the air.

I landed it, he then copied the same move to the point.

I followed up with another trick,

this time off the stair the set, landing it with ease.

He followed and did the same. 

This continued til’ the sun went down,

I walked with him back later.

It turned out he lived in the same neighborhood as me, so we exchanged numbers and said we’d try to meet again.

As school started that year, I recognized Nadeus in one of my classes,

he was seated right near me. 

Throughout the year I got to know Nadeus better. He was quiet for the most part, we were the only two African Americans in the class so we felt kind of odd. Southern schools are different, they are smaller, everyone knows each other and knows who they think of as an outsider. We unfortunately were the minority without a doubt. We would pass notes to each other making fun of the overtly racist classmates who came from what they saw as, confederate backgrounds. We’d draw pictures of their trucks crashing, their flags on fire, giant phallics attacking their BBQ’s from the sky.

All sorts of shit, it kept us entertained. 

It was all fun and games until one day after High school,

I was walking back with Nadeus, 

and some of the these classmates followed us slowly.

We walked the route we usually did, trying to add in little passages between houses to avoid them, but somehow their rusted Red truck kept coming from the corner of every street we approached. 

We were usually harassed by these guys, but something was different this time.

Finally Nadeus had it and Flipped them off as they drove by.

They quickly hit the breaks and hopped out the truck.

one of them I recognized as Billy, 

he grappled a two by four and look of bloodlust in his eyes. 

His pupils like black holes, approached the us at in in human rate.

A girl in the car quickly jumped out as well, running to the scene. 

The man began to draw the two by four back, walking right at me.

The girl jumped in front,

he swung but pulled as he realized she was there. 

It thudded against her chest, knocking the wind out.

She stood coughing and turned to me and Nadeus,

“Get the fuck out of here” she said.

Her Black Hair moved slowly in the afternoon wind.

She was my angel, both me and Nadeus turned and left.

I looked behind as we walked away and saw her knock the two by four from his hands ass if it weighed nothing. She slapped him so hard he nearly toppled over 

“Billy.......Get back HOME now!” she yelled at him.

She then grabbed him by the ear and led him back to the truck, his apeish demeanor breaking down to what looked like a little kid getting dragged by his mother.

The next day I woke up for school feeling better than ever to be alive. It was as if I woke up in a new house in a new body, a better life. But somehow it was my own, the same old thing I always knew. That was the day that Nadeus’s seat stayed empty. I remember wondering where he’d been, he wasn’t sick the day before, or acting weird. There was no announcement, no questions, no wondering. Nothing, it was as if the whole day was an eery silence that didn’t really happen. It was when I came home that I knew something was wrong. There was a police car sitting in my driveway. I came through my front door to find my Ma crying on the sofa. Two officers surrounded her, she looked at me and said, “Dwayne, these men need to talk with you”

The rest was a blur of questions and statements. They were ruling out an overdose, because of how it aesthetically appeared, I asked to see photos and they allowed me to. His corpse looked nothing like him; appearing gaunt and lifeless. His eyes like two black marbles, falling into the depths of a sullen face. His muscles had all but receded to little thimbles. I knew the guy didn’t do drugs, never. I  also could swear one of the officers was an older brother of one of the attackers as well. He kept quiet in the corner, shooting death glares at me from time to time. The whole situation seemed beyond hopeless. 

They played good-cop bad-cop with me for a while, seeing what they could get out of me, admissions of guilt, anything. I knew they were looking for somebody to frame so I kept my lips sealed.

After seeing the pictures, my mind drew a hard blank, the Red truck and the people’s faces blurred, the thought was replaced by a vast nothingness. The feeling that I’ve lost my only friend. I’m alone again. It wasn’t long before the officer’s realized there was nothing more they could get out of me, and they sent me on my way.

I walked back home from the station with the dark of the night just beginning to set in. I thought of Nadeus, and where he might be now; to me heaven and hell was no more than a mindset, a switch of coding by a conductor seldom seen, leading to anything the mind can perceive as real, besides the thing that got it there. Maybe in some ways this thing was the god element; the inherent force that sways through empty spaces at night, feeling every curve of the darkness until it’s all shrilled by piercing morning light. Nadeus was now somewhere in the darkness, in metaphor and presence. 

I could see the clouds ahead of me beginning to electrify with a storm. A full moon loomed ahead of the wall of thunderheads, lighting a little bit of my way. I hurried my pace to get back before the rain started, I could already hear thunder echoing in the distance. As I walked further down the street, I started hearing a whooshing noise from above. I couldn’t place it to be behind me or to the side of me, it just kept coming, almost like a gust of air. I upped my pace to an almost light jog, I could see the glimmer of the old town reservoir in the distance. Home luckily wasn’t too far. The trees were already starting to bend with ominous gusts, a little drizzle picked up. Ahead of me I could see a street light flickering, I could swear the pattern was “S.O.S.” (an old military based relative of mine used to show me the signal with a flashlight). It did it about 3 times and went dark. I was about to pass under it, when I felt something behind me. I turned fast, looked up, and saw the girl who helped me.  She was above the streetlight, floating at first, her body then swooped right through the metal arch of the streetlight. Her black hair growing like a lifeless shadow throughout the suspended motion.I felt the gust of air I had felt the whole past block and just like that, she was gone, somewhere far in the darkness above. But I knew, she was with me, and I think somehow she knew I hadn’t done wrong, her appearance was safe with me. The rain really began to pick up at that point, so I started running home. When I got home my Ma & Pa, were up watching Dracula. My younger brother, Darius, sat clutching his teddy bear in the light of the old tube t.v., I called them Ma and Pa but really they were my grandparents. I lost my actual parents not to long after I was born in a freak accident, and my Mom’s family has been taking care of my brother and I ever since.

I almost felt like staying outside, letting them enjoy themselves, just finding the nearest place or thing to disappear to. Lately I was a ghost to them; I could disappear and no one would have noticed. 

I decided to walk back to the old reservoir. The rain had died down, and the moon was glowing bright all around. Nadeus and I used to meet up at the reservoir late at night to smoke a joint out of sight, out of mind. Even though he wasn’t going to be here with me tonight, I rolled one up at a park bench nearby. I could see the reservoir from afar. A little light dotted the landing into the dark dot of water. You could see it’s glow echoing throughout the ripples in the lake. I decided to stay in place, I wasn’t fit to go swimming or hiking anyways. The joint I rolled was really nice, round and filled to the brim. The green of the tip had long burned to charred embers; it was about half-way done now. I could see something break in the water from afar. I took a deeper drag, and began to focus on the breaks in the water in the distance. That’s when I saw her again, she slowly surfaced from the water, her Black hair and naked curves glistening in the moonlight. She then sank below the water, seemingly unaware of me. I hadn’t seen that many White girls like this before. Boy was she pretty, like the girls I had seen in the magazines. I’m not sure how long she’s been following me or why, but I didn’t mind her for some reason. I could tell she wasn’t malicious to me. She felt familiar, like someone I had known, though I had never talked directly to her.

As soon as the roach started to burn the tips of my fingers, I left. I didn’t see her again, she seemed to disappear into the water without entrance or exit. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been there before, watching me and Nadeus in the dark of the night. We weren’t much to see, but it’s odd to think that someone was probably watching. I always felt like the old reservoir had an odd vibe. Maybe she was why... 

A tune of “Be My Baby”, echoes far in the distance. It’s frequencies leak about a sleepy nook like an infection, seeping in through any opening it can find. 

An old lady living in a victorian house readies her shotgun with bright red shells as she sits on a rocking chair. “Goddamn chilun, granchillun, little chillun, shit noise, shit rocker, I got my red gun a here knocker. You come knock once, knock twice, I’ll act nice. Then I’ll find you in the middle of the night. You won’t like the real me. I don’t care. I’m mean, I gotta shell for each of you when you try to take my rocker”, she said to herself, cocking the shot-gun with her last words. The music echoed through the old wood in the house. She had every window open wide. 

Next door was the source of the blaring Spector mix,

A run down house, hiding in the shadow of the monster next door.

A little glow of orange illuminates the front steps, showing the appearance of a smaller girl. She sits on the front stoop smoking a cigarette by herself. As the night grows darker, her shadow grows bigger, her curves more apparent. In the darkness it was seemingly unnoticeable, but under a light it would have looked similar to photosynthesis. Nobody at the parties ever asked her why or where she went when the sun first went down, that was her special place; a place no one else could ever get to. 

The Spector mixes evolved into a dark electronica over time, and the boom of the bass made her want to go back in even less.

She twisted her dark Black hair, and thought about the cute guy she rescued the other day, where he might be, what he might be doing.

That was when the front door slammed open. The full frequencies blaring and a bit of smoke billowing out as well. A man stood in the doorway, about the size of it. He had a darkening bruise on his face, and a beer held in his left hand. He wore a raggedy leather-man jacket, it looked about ten years too old at this point. Somehow every morning it seemed knitted new, this amongst many other things was something Billy had come to expect rather than understand. 

“Black cat, black cat, what you brought home for me tonight?” he said to her.

“Nothing Billy, leave me alone, you went too far last night. I ain’t got nothing for you” she said, grimacing.

A grin creeped up his face, and he stepped towards her.

“I know you got something, you’re thinking about something.... ripe and juicy, muscular, pure-bred. You thinkin’ about that Black boy aren’t you? How he’d treat you right, put you on pedestal, give you all those big things you’ve always wanted” he said.

She pushed him away and gave him a cold glare.

“Billy you’re drunk, I don’t like seeing you like this, you’d never talk like this otherwise” she said.

“I got three wet girls lined up inside. I don’t care what you want tonight or any night. I saw how that guy was hung the oth...”

Then she slapped him, real hard right in the spot of the bruise. Her face changed from a sense of a sympathy to shear rage in seconds

“Now you shut the fuck up and listen here. We ain’t talkin’ about none of that. You’re two steps from dead Billy, and I’m sick of being mother goose to this whole inbred flock. Half of you don’t even pull through. If it wasn’t for these bullshit accidents you guys cause, you couldn’t possibly get by. I suggest you make plans on getting the fuck out”

He stood there, dumbfounded. 

“What you just plannin’ on hitting the morgues ‘gain? Huh you really think something that dumb would work twice?” he said.

“I only need you as much as you make me need you Billy” she said looking off into the distance.

He threw his beer to the ground, shook his head, then dashed back inside, slamming the door.

The Orange glow grew again, then traveled to the garage. Cigarette in hand, she grabbed 2 cans of gasoline and walked to the houses main external gas line. She opened an old metal valve on the exchange. As she walked by the house she could see Billy with two girls. The blinds had slipped open. A bit of blood spattered on the wall, and the corpse of a young black man on the ground. An old brass Swastika topped a big mirror reflecting the whole bloody orgy. Animal like glares came from all corners. They grabbed at each other in an inhuman nature, moving at demonic like speeds with each thrust and grab, 

‘if they could only see themselves’ she thought. 

But even then it was too late for them, she knew it. 

“Fuckers killed my family, my cat, my friends.....” she muttered to herself flicking on the gas line. She dumbed a bit of gasoline trailing around the house to the front. A orange glow emitted again from the ramshackle setting, then went to the ground. A short ignition of fire trailed around the house to the valve of the main line. Within seconds a deep boom sounded, then an explosion traveled through the pipes and out every orifice of the house. Billy flew out the second story window, still erect, and completely on fire. his wails echoed the previous symphony now burning in the phonograph in his room. His old speakers popped their last sounds as the fire melted through the speaker cones.

In his last seconds of consciousness, he heard someone screaming. One of the girls he was with was outside, presumably thrown out as well, he could vaguely make out the image of an Old lady standing above her. 

The Old lady held a shotgun at her.

The girl started to cry,

“I didn’t do nothing, he was a nigger! He tried to rob our house. What do you want. He came in the middle of the night. Why are you trying to kills us!” she yelled

“I’m just trying to help you, little darling” the old lady said, not drawing the shotgun down.

“You better hope Billy don’t get back up” she said

The old lady then turned the shotgun to the dark bluish corpse, now steaming, and charred. She aimed the shotgun to his head and blew what was left of his brains onto the green grass around.

The girl then stood up, as if not burned or thrown out a second story window and lunged at the old lady. Another shotgun boom echoed.

“I was just trying to defend myself from all of ya’s”, 

she muttered to herself as sirens grew closer.

She gazed around, spat on the ground and awaited the coming police.

The next morning was cold and bitter. You could smell the tinge of smoke throughout the town. The local precinct was busier then ever, still trying to figure out what to do with this old Lady, a shotgun, a blown up house and at least 3-5 corpses.

I remember walking to and from that school that day. No Red truck, no ominous characters following me, almost a pleasant silence. The day had been odd, my first class was 4 seats shorter without Nadeus, Billy, and now two of the prettiest girls who were in class. They were every guy’s eye candy, top cheerleaders who supposedly had a bad habit with guys. Those types always thought they were too good for me and Nadeus(especially because they came from rich White families)but we never wished anything on them for it, they were good company when they wanted to be. The administration made an announcement to the student body about it, “4 students were found dead in complications of a house fire. Any information leading to the arrest of the assailants will be rewarded with care and compensation. 

A moment of silence please”

I went through the work as I usually did, trying not to think too much about the whole thing. I didn’t want to get involved in the investigation either, I didn’t need any more police attention in my life. The day moved in sort of a slow motion. Clocks seemed to roll back every time I looked away, people’s conversations and concerns grew less and less important to me. The whole world was beginning to seem loud. I felt trapped, confused, lost.

I found myself walking that same familiar route home, looking for her to come swooping under a streetlight, or appear from the shadows. But for some reason she wasn’t showing. I even found myself at the old reservoir late at night, puffing away by myself, hoping I’d finally get the chance to talk to her; to see who she really was. It wasn’t until late the next week that something finally came. Late at night I was awoken by something shaking me. I shot out of bed immediately, and looked at the clock, it read around 4:34 in the morning. I refocused ahead of me and saw a dark shadow at the foot of my bed. It seemed to focus in through a smoke-like haze. The girl appeared from the haze. She climbed over my bed’s footboard, and crawled up to me. Feeling like I was in a dream, I wasn’t avert to any of this, in all honesty I wasn’t sure if it was actually happening or not. I couldn’t seem to resist her pull. She slipped under the covers and started controlling me in ways I never knew I could be. I put myself into her, at that time a virgin, she seemed to be experienced, not like me. I could feel a warmth within her, a glow, something I had never really experienced before. It wasn’t quite like love and it wasn’t quite like a drug, it was something different. Something about her seemed like a gate way to another universe. Maybe she’s a dream, maybe she’s a ghost, all I know is I now wakeup within and without her. I’ve never really known her, the familiarity is what haunts me. She leaves little messages and slips on the nights she comes to remind she was really there, only things I’d notice. 

This went on for about a week. Until one day she came with a glum look in her face. She sat at the foot of my bed, not speaking much, that dark shadow growing around her. This particular morning she hardly woke me up, I just found her there as soon as my vision cleared from a dream-like haze. She waved at me, and oddly enough I could feel her controlling me, I couldn’t move a muscle. I tried to talk but the words wouldn’t come out, they seemed trapped under some sort of immense pressure. She leaned in toward me, completely paralyzed and told me, “good bye, I might never see you again”. She then gave me a kiss, and slipped out the window, when she disappeared completely, the pull broke and I could move again. As I wondered if she was ever actually there, I found myself also concerned about how she had that much power over me. Could she read my thoughts as well? I never had any bad thoughts about her, but the point intrigued me, just how she always showed when I thought she would without a word spoken. I felt like I had always known her, but I couldn’t tell how old she was, or who she was really. I remember going to the bathroom soon after she left, as I walked in I flipped the old brass switch and the lights illuminated a bit of red on my hands and lips, I wiped it off, figuring she must of been wearing red lip stick. When I returned to my room, I went to flick my nightlight off, that’s when I saw a parked car outside. The light was on and I could vaguely make out the face of the officer brother of Billy. Was he watching my house? As soon as I thought it, the light in his car went out and he pulled away in silence. It gave me the creeps. His family was full of the worst kind of racists you could ever meet. They probably have trophies of people in their house, freaks. After seeing him, my night was restless, I saw images of him coming the next morning, telling my parents he was going to take me out for a ride, soon enough these thoughts turned into dreams, and I was reliving the Emmet Till lesson my history teacher gave me that day. Dreams are funny like that, they are seemingly simple thoughts which envelope into a reality that is only as real you make it, kind of reminiscent of this funny thing we call life.

Soon enough, she stopped coming, just like she said. The nights went without a hiccup, my dreams soothing me through the slew of days. This all lasted until one night I was awakened by blaring music.I looked out my window to see Billy’s brother sitting there. All of a sudden, he got out of his car, and started walking toward the front yard to my window. I could see he was holding something. Within seconds, that something was lobbed from below It slammed through the window and nailed my skull. Bits of skull fragments flew about the glass flying through the air. Blood cascaded about. And for a second, I was dead; the red of brick touching my soft brain, falling back onto the wooden floor.

“You aren’t here Dwayne”, a booming voice said.

I awoke on my floor. Ma and Pa were were trying to knock my door open.

“Dwayne, honey are you alright, what was that?”

My mom yelled from outside my room. 

My focus faded in and I could see the ceiling fan spinning above. 

I went to touch my head, and as I pulled my hand away, no blood.

I stood up and looked in my desk mirror. I looked just fine.

The door cracked in and they came right in. 

“Your window..... Dwayne, what did those bullies do?”

she said.

“I don’t know, I woke up to the sound of crashing glass”

That of course being a lie, I could still feel an odd throbbing in my head, every so often I sifted back around for glass or bits of something showing what I had just felt. Nothing was to be found, but somehow I felt different, not like better but, dead, maybe. I’m not sure because as I’m aware I’ve only been alive.

“Paul this is going too far we need to do something about them before this gets any worse.”

my Grandma said, picking up a red brick from the ground. A note was rubber banded to it. it read “Leave our town NIGGERS!” 

my Grandma gasped and threw it to the ground.

“We are reporting this to the police in the morning” she said, shaking her head.

After some short conversation and check-up they shut of my lights and left my room. It was eerily silent after, you could only hear the crickets outside. I found myself checking the window to see if he had come back, after about 10 or so times checking, I saw her there perched outside on the window hang, not really minding the shards of glass around. She held out her hand to me and asked “Do you want me to take you away from here?”.

“Yes”,

I grabbed her, then everything turned black.

I awoke to a comfortably air conditioned room with a popcorn ceiling.

The room smelled of cigarettes subtly.

My mind felt hazy, like I had smoked some bad pot or, got hit really hard.

Slowly my perception faded from a jumble of colors.

“Where was I?”, I thought.

“You are staying in Elvis’s private motel room at Sandalwood in Florida. Well this was his before they found him clogged with shit. The man couldn’t afford laxatives but he could afford this. He made some great music with horrible habits, funny how that works right?”

I could make out an older man sitting at a formica table across from me. His hair was jet black, and done back in a pompadour type style.

I sat there in silence, still trying to fathom what the hell was happening.

“Listen up, I saved you. Being a brother in the time it is, I’m telling you it was only a short amount of time until that brick would be a molotov and you’d lose alot more than yourself. So case in point, I saved you, now you save me. I need you to be my pool boy, if you’ll permit. I’ll help you get by until you have enough to pick yourself up, at that point you check in officially and we were never here. Do you understand me, Dwayne?”

he asked

“Yes”,

I said

“One last thing, I own this fine establishment. You can call me Uncle Tom, and this is you cabin for as long as you need it”.

Days blurred into nights and soon enough I found myself combing the beaches for a nice girl to spend time with. The work was easy, it was just maintaining the pools chlorine levels and making sure all the guests were appeased. I was oddly comfortable with the change, it beats dealing with my grandparents and the nazi’s at school. All I had to do was wake up drift through the warmth til’ the cold of night, the waves crashing all throughout, some might of found it to be empty, but I found what loved doing. It was my bit of nothing that held my everything together. The women were beautiful, even the winters would attract some beautiful types in, the kind of girls that make your heart start all over again. None though compared to the girl who brought me here. I wondered about where she might be, if she was flying far above, or beneath the waves below. The answers seldom presented themselves, only in odd creatures I would see in the water and anomalies in the sky. She was the first real love I ever had, and I knew someday I would find her, when I was ready.

As I aged, Uncle Tom did too, and he started to lose interest in the hotel business. He put it up for sale, and I decided to pool together money I had saved over the years to buy the place. Even after I acquired the grounds, I still stayed in Elvis’s old room. It had a nice warmth and comfort to it. I could see why he spent so much time here. It was truly a fortress of solitude.

I still found myself tending to the pool late at night, even when I didn’t have to. Luckily it closed at sundown, so unless we had drunks I was usually alone.

It was mainly silent, I picked a hair from my head, I could see it was beginning to gray.

Time was not being kind to me, and I was beginning to grow worried of what might come besides the next morning.

The pool was oddly cool, but all the levels were alright. I was nearing the deep end when something pulled me at my left leg. I turned around and nothing was there. Within seconds I was in the water, full sprawl. still in my clothes. I opened my eyes to see her in front of me, 

“I need you” she said. 

She then pulled me under the water, and put her mouth to mine.

Gravity and oxygen seemed to cease existing momentarily as we twirled below the bottom of the pool. 

She ripped off my clothes, and made at me like she never did before.

The rest of the night was a slew of sex and debauchery, 

I awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in the left of my neck.

The sun dotted her like a jewel, bending over in the bathroom.

I walked over to her, and I could see a man in front of her lifeless. She prepared him on the toilet. As I got closer I could make him out as the guy who whipped the brick at me.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“This is the end of your deal. I’m not like you, but you are now like me. I could never be with you because of a disease. It was put on you as much as it was me. This disease kept me alive through druggings, should-be murders, you name it. I’ve been an actress for 100 years but I’ve always been the same age. From Black and White to Technicolor my face is there, but the name changes. You won’t understand now, but someday you might see the gold in your veins and you will thank me. Maybe you’ll give me a room. Elvis Did”

Dwayne then walked over to her, and gave her a hug.

He kissed her and said

“You’re always welcome at Sandalwood. I’ve missed you”