#after a few moments he remembers what a lightbulb is and whips around to yell 'LIGHTBULBS DO NOT EVEN POSSESS BATTERIES ALSI! >:T '

[soulsxng]

“I am hardly reclusive...”

“You spend roughly three-fourths of your day on some floor or another of the Grand Archives with your writing, studying, or experimenting. You have-- as Cyrus has put it-- ‘the social battery of an unscrewed lightbulb’, unless it comes to someone that has piqued your interest. Generally, if someone wants to see you, they need to come here, as opposed to you going there. All that without mentioning when you fall into one of your moods about Quella. You are exceedingly reclusive most days, Siv.”

“...Rude. You could just as easily have said that you simply disagreed.”

[sageinacage]

ok retry because tumblr deleted the prompt from your askbox >:( how about a fic with lee!eret and ler!foolish where foolish knew that eret was ticklish in the past, and now in present day, he wants to know if that fact is still true and tries to discover it for himself? i love ur fics btw!!! :D

Old Pal summary: foolish is curious if his old friend eret is still ticklish. a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THEIR DYNAMIC I APOLOGIZE THAT ITS PROBABLY A BIT OOC BAHAHA warnings: n/a w/c: 1.6k DSMP, Platonic

~

‘Was the sun always this bright?!’ Foolish squinted in thought, looking up at the clear sky as he raised his hand to block the rays of light aimed right at his face. He huffed, lowering his hand and leaning against the furnaces he set up in his construction area.

It was a sunny afternoon, a light breeze brushing through the leaves on the trees scattered around the area. Foolish was busy today, working on the mansion he was commissioned to build for his friends Ranboo and Tubbo. It was a beautiful building so far, so much done but so much to do still.

“What time is it?” The shark-totem hybrid asked himself, opening his inventory to grab ahold of his clock. He smiled to himself. It was only one in the afternoon, a perfect time for a lunch break.

He walked down the path, going back to town. As Foolish walked, he took the time to look around, looking at the buildings around him. He smiled as nostalgia filled his heart, then filling at a newfound speed when he saw the castle.

Arriving at the gates of the castle after a swift speed-walk, he walked in. You see, his old pal Eret lived in the walls of the gorgeous castle, and Foolish was one loving guy and just wanted to see his friend.

“Eret- King Eret? Are you hooome?!” He called out, chuckling at the echo he heard. Amused by the echo, Foolish kept on yelling. “Yoo-hoo, Eret! Your pal is here!” He continued to shout, laughing at each echo he heard back. About to shout again, he heard a chuckle; one that didn’t belong to himself. Foolish whipped around, seeing a person wearing the signature sunglasses of his friend.

“Eret!”

“How’s my friend doing?” They smiled, opening his arms for a hug. Foolish, being much taller than the monarch, bent down to surround them in a tight hug, lifting them up with him as he stood up straight. “Alrihight, put me down, Foolish!” Eret laughed warmly, being put back down on their feet only after a dramatic whine from the hybrid.

“Still a big softie, I see?” The monarch chuckled, fixing their shades which got tilted from the big hug Foolish gave. “Eret, you’re talking like I haven’t seen you in years. Well- I mean, it has been a while…” He rubbed the back of his head, bashfully smiling at the light chortles Eret produced. “It has been a while, you goof.”

The two had some good laughs as they ate lunch together, catching up on what has been going on in each other's lives; but also talking about memories they remember. One really stuck with Foolish, a memory of when they used to playfully fight all the time. By ‘playfully fight,’ I mean tickle each other.

“Foolish, do you remember our old tickle fights? Those were always so fun.”

Did they just read his mind? Foolish’s eyes widened before he composed himself, smiling. “Yeah, I usually won them as well.” He sniggered, earning an exaggerated gasp from his friend. “You did not! I was usually the victor, don’t lie to yourself!” Eret laughed, picking up Foolish’s and their plates to bring them to the kitchen.

Foolish smiled to himself, then looked up in thought. ‘Were they still ticklish? Could someone even lose ticklishness? Am I still ticklish?’ The hybrid hummed as thoughts played in his mind, not noticing Eret’s fond smile at the doorway of the living room. “Whatcha thinking about there, pal?” They smiled, Foolish cowered sheepishly at the sudden voice.

“Oh- Eret! I didn’t notice you were b- back already!”

“You’re nervous. What’s on your mind?”

“N… Nothing!”

“I don’t believe that, Foolish.” The monarch sighed, sitting on the soft couch near the table. “Why don’t you sit down?” Eret offered, Foolish slowly making his way to sit next to them on the pillow-filled couch.

“Are you sick? You’re quite red.” They furrowed their eyebrows, placing the back of their palm on Foolish’s forehead. “I’m fine, I promise!” Foolish smiled, snickering to himself at how Eret really never changed. They’ve always been so kind and caring, always taking care of their friends and people who mean loads to them.

“You’re lost in thought again, friend.” Eret smiled, the other crossing his arms. “You can tell me what’s on your mind, you know I wouldn’t judge you for anything.”

“Are you ticklish, Eret?” Foolish blurted out, Eret’s raising their eyebrows in surprise, but melting into a soft smile. “Why were you so nervous to ask that, you goof? Though I don’t know if I am… maybe? Who knows.” Eret thought, before chuckling at Foolish’s sudden expression: it was a mix of surprise and happiness. It was a quiet moment- until Foolish’s little smirk turned into a wide, toothy grin.

“Let’s test it. I think it’s fair if I reclaim a few victories of my own, yeah?” Foolish giggled evilly before diving his fingers down to squeeze their waist. The sudden jerk the monarch produced exposed the truth. Yes, Eret was still ticklish. Definitely.

“Fooholihish!” Eret laughed playfully, holding Foolish’s wrists; but not pushing him away. “Aha! So you are still ticklish!” Foolish excitedly announced, his squeezing fingers turning into fluttering fingertips up Eret’s ribs over their dress shirt. “Nihihice obsehervation!” The sassiness is definitely still there as well, apparently.

Foolish hummed in thought, trying to remember any sweet spots. You could practically see a lightbulb appear over his head as his face lit up. “Whahat are you plahanni-IHIHAHAHA- FOOLISH!” Eret squealed, throwing themself back on the couch. Foolish’s hands gently squeezed up and down their thighs, eventually settling on the spot right above their kneecap.

Laughing at the sudden cackle, Foolish stopped his squeezing to just rake his slight claws up and down their thighs instead. “It looks like getting a victory will be easier than I thought, huh?”

Eret shook their head. “You neheed to t- try haharder than thahat, paha-AHAHAL, NOHOT THEHERE!” They threw their head back, glasses almost flying off as the squeezing started up again, moving to the under-sides of their thighs. The mix of squeezes and raking on the backs of their thighs was driving Eret mad, the feeling nearly unbearable.

“Fiiine, it would be fun to figure out your tickle spots allll over again, don’t you think?” Foolish sniggered, slipping his hands out from under them, only to wiggle his fingers over Eret’s stomach. They immediately sucked their stomach in on reflex, squirming gently to get away from the impending claws over his belly.

“Oh? What’s wroooong, Eret? You think you can get away from my tickles? Is that it?” Foolish raised an eyebrow, lowering his hands before Eret could get a word of retaliation out. The monarch kicked their legs, arms crashing down to weakly shove at the attacking hands. “F- FOOHOLISH! SHUHUSH!” Eret let out more high-pitched giggles, a few hiccups peppering through their laughing fit.

“No, I don’t think I will. It’s fun to talk about how ticklish you are, and how much I’m gonna tickle tickle tickle you! Laugh for me!” The hybrid teased, cooing little noises at the monarch as he wagged a single claw over their ribs, as his other hand prodded on the side of their belly. “Oooh, maybe instead of the ‘King of the SMP,’ you could be the ‘King of Giggles!’ I like that better. What do you think about that, King?”

Eret shook their head, face growing red and warm at the new title bestowed onto them. “STOHOP T- TAHALKING!” They playfully rebuttal, earning a head shake from Foolish. “That wasn’t very nice, King of Giggles! I think I should humble you a little bit, yeah?” Before Eret could retaliate, their words evaporated into nervous giggles as they felt the bottom buttons of their dress shirt come undone.

“Y’know Eret, a while ago when we had these tickle fights, you always did something that made me lose every time. Do you remember what that was?” Foolish started, then smirked. “I believe the technique is called a ‘raspberry.’ Does that ring a bell, Eret? I bet it does, you’re blushing right now.” He smiled, pushing the bottom of their shirt aside.

As they felt cold air brush over their belly, shivers rushed over them and butterflies erupted in their stomach, now excited giggles bubbling up from their throat. “Juhust do ihit!” Eret complained, digging their heels into the couch behind Foolish.

He laughed, leaning down. “Alriiight, you technically asked for it, though!” Foolish smirked at Eret before planting a large raspberry right underneath their navel. Screw Foolish and his strong shark lungs. “F- FOOLIHISH- YOHOHOU WIHIHIHIN- I GIHIVE! PLEHEHASE!” Eret managed to get out through their laughter, grabbing a pillow to protect themselves with as they caught their breath.

“One win for Foolish, let’s go! Looks like I’m in the lead now.” Foolish crossed his arms triumphantly, a proud smile plastered on his face. “Wehe’re tahallying up wihins now?” Eret asked, fixing their crooked glasses. The hybrid nodded at them, putting his hands on his hips as he stood up.

“Hmm, I better get my lead back then.” Eret smirked, Foolish’s proud grin shifting into a skittish smile. “Wh- what? Wait, Erehet. Yohou don’t need toho!” He shook his head, putting his arms out in front of him as a ‘defensive mechanism.’

“Watch yourself, old pal. I think it’s time I discover your tickle spots now.”

[admiringlove]

III: rivalry; a match of quidditch to never forget.

— a small bet to beat miya atsumu’s ass. let’s catch the snitch, shall we?

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2k

+warnings: just two idiots not realizing something important about their love lives.

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai @seijohlogy @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des @akaashi-todorki @zukosbenders  @irishhbamb​ 

+author’s notes: writing fluff is cool and all, but writing that heartbreaking shit is better. send an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!!

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

It had been five days since you had that interaction with Atsumu in the hallway. And today, being the day to finally win the bet against him, you pulled your emerald Quidditch robes on.

"C'mon, [L/N], how long does it take ya to change? Kiyoko's done already!" You heard Atsumu's echo voice outside the changing room, and you chuckled, picking up your Nimbus 2001 from your locker and walking out.

The yellow-haired boy didn't know what came over him when you walked out to greet your other teammates. You were chatting with Kiyoko and Osamu—your haired pushed back away from your face as the wind blew through your emerald robes. Atsumu's heart felt like it was being thrown around like a Quaffle, but only he wasn't playing Quidditch(yet).

There wasn't anything special about you today, you were just wearing the same pine-green and pewter-grey uniform, readying yourself to play in the field. So why did Miya Atsumu think you looked more ethereal than anything he's ever seen? He was the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, for Salazar's sake. The first practice was today.

Oh right, he's the Captain. That made Atsumu snap out of his thoughts as he clapped his gloved hands loudly, "Aight, everybody! Listen up!"

He really didn't know how Kita handled his antics last year. The way he and Osamu literally almost fought in the middle of a game probably made the Kita Shinsuke furious. Yet here he was, the "impulsive" one of the lot, as Captain this year.

Practice, at first, was namely awkward. He was new to the responsibilities—he was scared he wouldn't be good enough, and to top that, Osamu kept on snickering when he tried to tell the younger players what to do.

"Hey," you nudged Atsumu's broom, a cool breeze passing by you as you looked at him with comforting eyes, "You're doing great. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," he let out a genuine chuckle, looking over to his juniors—whom he had told to practice their aim with the Quaffle. Then, a sudden lightbulb lit in his mind, as he looked over to you, "Ya do remember our bet, don't ya?"

"Erm... I certainly do, why?" you looked at him with your furrowed brows as you slowed your flying pace. He smirked, looking at you with the expression you know all too well.

"'Tsumu, no—"

"Okay, everyone! Listen up! We're going to play a game before wrapping practice up for the day!" his voice boomed through the pitch, as everybody flew down to the ground together. You rolled your eyes as you began, "I literally just told you not to do that—"

"Okay, we're splitting into two teams. [L/N], you're with Suna, Sakusa, Kiyoko, Tsukishima, Tobio, and Shirabu. And the rest are with me," Atsumu gave you a side-glance as your expression turned into a somewhat pout. He was being fair with splitting the teams, taking two first-years himself, and giving you the other two(to be honest, he was giving you gifted players). But you hated him for not listening to you—maybe you were just being petty, who knows?

The match started off when Atsumu let out the Bludgers and got into position. And while everyone was busy playing their parts, he winked at you.

You hated it here.

The Quaffle was first taken by a player of Atsumu's team—Kunimi, who avoided the Beaters of your team without any effort. You huffed as you looked around for the Golden Snitch, as you only had two minutes to catch it(and you really didn't want to lose the bet).

Kiyoko, the Keeper of your team, successfully stopped Kunimi from throwing the Quaffle through the hoops, but Atsumu sent a Bludger her way—it almost hit her, but she avoided it just in time. The two iron Bludgers were being hit at many players in unison by the despicable Miya Twins—you knew they were capable Beaters, Atsumu was approaching a career as one, for fuck's sake—as you scoffed. This was one of their strategies that couldn't be beaten by someone unless you had been playing with them for a long time. Atsumu would go towards the right side of the pitch and Osamu would go to the left, constantly passing the Bludgers to one another and not letting the other team get their hands on them. It was smart, really, and required so much precision(you couldn't deny it, he was talented and smart when he wanted to be).

And just then, a Golden ball of victory passed by Atsumu's head, causing a sly smile to form on your lips as he whips his head around to focus on you for just a moment. This time, it was you who winked at him—the brief interaction made him blush as your broom zoomed past him to chase after the Snitch. Luckily, Goshiki(Atsumu's seeker) was on the other side of the pitch, so passing most of the players from your team would definitely slow him down.

Almost there, you thought, as you reached your hand out for it—flying as fast as you could on your Nimbus 2001. The light broom made it easy for you to slowly stand up, lifting yourself as you reached for the Snitch at an unstoppable speed.

And just then, an iron Bludger hit by Miya Atsumu came your way, knocking you off your broom.

When Atsumu saw you stand up on your broom, his competitive energy seemed to rile up as he smirked.

Now is a perfect time, he thought. A leer danced on his lips as he readied his bat, gesturing for Osamu to send the Bludger his way. Atsumu didn't mean to hurt you, really, he just wanted to win the bet—and although that was childish, he just couldn't help himself.

Goshiki caught the Snitch just as you fell. The match stopped, and Atsumu noticed that you weren't moving. Swiftly, he landed next to you on the ground.

"[L/N]?" he pulled on your hand, "[Y/N], don't play games with me right now. I know ya all too well, ya did this like a hundred times last year, get up."

"'Tsumu, the hell didja do?" Osamu came up behind the Captain, asking him what happened as a few other Seniors began walking towards the commotion as well. Atsumu slowly shook his head, handing his broom to his twin as he quickly picked you up in his firm arms.

"Atsumu, I'm asking ya something!" his twin yelled as the yellow-haired boy began walking towards the Infirmary. Atsumu looked back, "Wrap up practice for me, will ya? Yer Vice Captain for a reason!"

Osamu was taken aback when his brother said that. But he knew that his pig-brained idiot excuse of a brother was finally doing the right thing, even if it meant he'd continue being a sissy and not confessing his love for the certain someone in his arms.

To say that Atsumu felt horrible, was an understatement. He had this gut-wrenching feeling and his breathing felt incredibly shallow. He was taking quick, but short steps. His voice was hitched in his throat as he could already feel a lump forming. He couldn't even bear to look at you right now.

But as he found himself looking down, immense guilt flooded his heartstrings, snapping a few of them in the process. You were unconscious, a narrow line of rouge spilling down from your forehead as you lay in his arms. If you weren't hurt, Atsumu would almost say you look peaceful like that—eyes closed, lips contorted into a somewhat blissful expression without any strain on your muscles.

You looked blissful—only you weren't in bliss, you were in pain; actual physical pain because of him. Atsumu wanted to tell you how wrong you were on the night of your first day back. He wanted to tell you that he really was reckless and that you were too nice to see it. He wanted to tell you that he wasn't deserving of anybody in his life, even his own brother.

He wanted to tell you he doesn't deserve you.

That day, as he found himself next to your bedside through the night in the Infirmary, he could feel his carob eyes starting to blur due to the tears brimming in there. Hot tears soaked into your mattress leaving damp evidence that in fact, Miya Atsumu was crying. It was hard to hide, because anyone who would witness his face could instantly comfort him, or ask him what's wrong, so he hid in the blankets. He kept his head down, pretended to sleep, letting out an occasional hiccup or shaky breath.

"'Tsumu?"

Miya Atsumu has never looked up this quickly in his whole life.

"'Tsumu, are you... crying?" you asked, the medicine making you slur your speech but you didn't care—all you cared about right now was the piss-haired boy who sat by your bed even though it was past twilight. Your gaze softened as you reached out and ruffled his hair, giving him a warm smile in the process. You had just woken up, and the sight you got to see made your heartstrings tighten.

"Hey, it's okay," you say as he turns away from you, continuing to hide the fact that he was crying, even if you had already seen it.

"I'm not cryin'. Ya never saw that," he said gruffly, clearing his throat as he got up to leave. You pouted slightly, "I just woke up and you're already leaving? Isn't it like 2 in the morning?"

"Yer supposed to rest and I don't wanna bother ya," he shot you a quick thumbs-up, faking a smile in the process. You gave him a look that said, 'Do you seriously think that's convincing?'.

"Sit here and keep me entertained," you gesture to the stool he was sitting on just moments ago. He gives you a half-way smile, obeying what you said as you chuckled.

"Are you crying because of me?"

"I thought I said ya never saw that," he grunted as you giggled lightly, the empty Infirmary lighting up with joy as your laugh filled Atsumu's ears.

"In my defense, you're my friend and I care for you," you said between your laughs. Just that sentence felt like a rose thorn pricking against your throat, but you smiled through it, not knowing the same went for Atsumu.

"Thanks," Atsumu smiled, "And since I almost killed ya, I'm thinkin' I should take you to Hogsmeade and buy ya Treacle Tarts after all."

"Score! [L/N] catches the Snitch and kicks Miya Atsumu's arse!"

Madam Pomfrey had let you go when you swore you'd take your medicine on time; it had taken a lot of begging, but she eventually let you go. A fine Saturday morning—well, it was way past noon, but still, fine Saturday afternoon.

"How'd Poppy let ya go that fast?" 'Tsumu saw you first when you walked through the Common Room door and he was simply sitting on the sofa, flipping a few books(you were proud, he was actually doing his homework).

"I told her I'd take my medicine. I'm also responsible, very unlike you," you stuck your tongue out as you plopped yourself down. He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he looked at you with softened eyes.

He continued doing his work in comfortable silence as you just sat there. Atsumu's focusing on a few worksheets from Potions and DADA. You would've helped, but he never asked.

You looked at him, how not even a little bit of sweat passed down his forehead(even though it was quite warm because of the fireplace). His yellow mop of hair was perfectly styled and combed, parted, and one single strand sticking up at places where it made you smile.

His tongue stuck out in concentration. You could probably compare his eyes to the warmth of a wintry, everlasting hearth or a bonfire—the crackling from the fireplace sort of soothed your heart as you gazed into his hickory orbs. They really did look like the wood from a fire, maybe the type of wood that never fully turns into ashes even if they've been burning for a long time.

You sighed. You should probably get up and spend your day resting, or completing your homework—that would be the right decision to make, but you really didn't want to.

"Hey, [Y/N], what's an Inferius?" Atsumu questioned you out of the blue, making you snap out of your trance.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"An Inferius, [L/N]. I swear to Salazar, ya really do look like yer starin' at me sometimes."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[toomanyfandoms02]

Kissletoe - Harry James Potter

Summary - Two oblivious idiots finally get thrown into eachother.

Word Count - 2.1k

Hey :) I'm sorry I'm never on here. I lobe you guys so much. I hope you're having a beyond wonderful day

Valentines Day.

A day I dreaded for years, ever since first year. I would watch as girls would get candy grams from their boyfriends. Eating them in class with a big smile on their face. While I sat in silence, usually getting pity ones from my friends.

Once I hit fourth year it was a little different. I had grown a little and I had caught the attention of a few. Not that any of them were actually kind and well-meaning. I had the sense to realize that and only had one relationship through that time, but it started after one valentines day and ended before the next.

My family took Valentines day pretty seriously, it was silly really. They were pretty into the whole 'true love' thing, and soulmates. They hadn't judged me directly for not being as 'relationship oriented' as a good majority of my family, but I had heard whispers the past year. As if turning 15 meant I needed to be in some kind of committed relationship.

It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was just hard for me, having any interaction with someone I had feelings for. As of now, that boy was Harry Potter. This wasn't anything new, Hermione knew that. And that would be what had gotten us sitting in the library whispering about it behind opened books.

"Y/n I'm almost positive he likes you. Any time I mention you his cheeks flush. Have you seen the way he looks at you?" She looked at me as if I was as dim as a 6 year old lightbulb.

"Mione don't be daft, he's a nervous boy. I'm sure he acts the same way with any girl." I felt shallow liking Harry, even knowing that I didn't like him for being 'The Chosen One'. I liked him for the way he tapped his wand on the table when he was focused on his parchment. Or the way he smiled when he was talking about his friends. And especially when he would be looking down at something and he would have to keep pushing up his sliding glasses.

"Godric you really are oblivious." She giggled, looking back at her book. Just then a book was slammed in front of us on the table, my head whipped up and I heard a distant shush.

"Here is the lesson plan for the next month." Harry said with a smile. He was having a lot of fun as the head of Dumbledore's Army. Hermione grabbed it and flipped through a few pages.

"That's brilliant Harry. Looks amazing as usual." He sat down with us in the comfortable silence and skimmed the pages of his work. I went back to my book when I felt eyes on me. I looked to my side to see a sinister smirk on Hermiones face. "So what are you doing this Valentines Day Harry?" She asked casually, I stared daggers at her.

"What day is that again? It's this weekend right?"

"Yeah its Saturday." I replied, continuing to stare at my book and biting the inside of my cheek.

"Probably nothing then. I don't do much on the weekends." He shrugged.

"What are you doing Y/n?" She nudged me not so subtly. I rolled my eyes, she knew the answer to this stupid question. But any chance I get to vent about this party, I take it.

"I'm taking the floo to my parents house. They are having their stupid valentines day bash like every year. I don't even know why they invite me to it anymore. Every person in my family sits around and cuddles up on eachother and we all make cookies. And theres a dinner, most sickeningly is that the food is pink and heart themed. Anything they can make pink and lovey they do so. I'm just sick of going and hearing the whispers about how 'I'm the only kid in the family who never brings someone' and that 'usually by my age I would have a long term boyfriend.' I'm contemplating not even going." I got so caught up in the moment, I could feel my face heat up from the anger of remembering the words. "Its just bullshit." I shrugged it off.

"You've never brought anyone to it?" Harry piped up.

"What, are you going make fun of me too?" I laughed half-heartedly.

"No no! I just thought that you would've always had someone to bring, considering I know at least 5 people who have eyes for you right now." My eyebrows scrunched together at this.

"Excuse me?" This was news to me. Harry's eyes widened.

"I thought you knew..."

"Well certainly not!" I said, trying to keep quiet about how flabbergasted I was. "Well tell me who they are you dimwit!" I waved my hands sporadically

"Reed Barron, Lachlan Argo, Angus Davy, and Colin Hagie." He said with a nod.

"That's only 4 Harry." I laughed. He nodded with a smile, looking everywhere but my eyes. "Harry? Who's the fifth?" Hermione looked at me with squinted eyes and a sneer.

"You daft bimbo, its *him*."

"Hermione!" Harry looked at her with an unbelievable look.

"You should go with her to her valentines day party Harry." She looked so unbothered, continuing to read.

"Mione!" I elbowed her side, to no effect, she just kept talking.

"I really cannot handle it anymore you two. You both only talk about eachother. Coming and whining to me about how one doesn't like the other. Love is so blind." She flipped a page. "But please, go one and tell me I'm wrong." She looked between the both of us silently. "That's what I thought." It was silent after that for a good 5 minutes before I spoke up again, taking all the courage I had to say what I wanted to for a long time.

"Do you want to go to the party with me Harry?" I looked up at him slowly to see a shy smile on his lips.

"I really would like to go." He nodded.

"Finally." Hermione huffed, setting her book down finally. "Now that I know you guys will actually talk about this I'll leave you both be." She then got up and left us alone at the table. I laughed and leaned my face into my hands.

"I'm sorry for never saying anything to you about it, I was worried you liked Dean." Harry said quietly. This made me laugh harder.

"Oh no, we have been friends for far too long, he's like a brother to me. He will probably be thrilled to know I'm finally going on a date with you."

"A date." Harry stated, just smiling at me, certainly making my insides melt.

--------------

We stood in the fireplace holding floo powder in our hands.

"Just say the Y/L/N residence and it should take us there safely." He nodded and we vanished with the words, quickly ending up in the fireplace of our basement.

"I'm going to apologize in advance for my crazy lovey family." I cracked a smile, grabbing his hand and leading us up the stairs. I heard giggles and smelled fresh cookie dough. "Mum I'm home!" I yelled as I hit the top step. Harry quickly intertwined our fingers and squeezed my hand. My mother came barreling around the corner with a big smile and arms out wide, soon lowering her arms when she actually approached us.

"Who's this?" She gestured to Harry with a smile.

"This is Harry." He extended his hand to her politely. She took it graciously, wrapping both hands around his.

"Its so nice to meet you." My mum was never one to judge me for never bringing home a boy, so I comfortably knew that she would not embarrass me. She was a very intelligent woman who knew when not to speak of things. Like how she knew that this was *the* Harry Potter. It was the rest of my family I had to worry about. "I'm so glad your here!" She let go of his hand and led us into the kitchen where the rest of the family stood. All eyes were on Harry as we walked in.

"Y/n sweetie! Welcome home." My dad brought me in for a hug and peered back at the boy. "Are you who I think you are?" He tilted his head slightly.

"Dad please-"

"Everyone! Y/n has brought a boy!" Oh thank god.

"Harry Potter!" Nevermind. I grabbed Harrys hand and pulled him much closer to me as my cousin shouted. Harry waved at everyone with a sweet smile.

"Its nice to meet you all." Sometimes I wanted to give my whole family one good slap, excluding my mother. I dragged him to the dining room table all while giving my family a good glare.

"I'm so sorry about them." I whispered, leaving my head on his shoulder.

"It's really okay Y/n, I'm kind of use to it by now." He laughed, looking down at me with a smile. God that smile. We then heard two little claps and looked up to see my mom.

"Alright every one! Grab a bowl of cookie dough! Let's put these on a pan." I looked over to Harry and rolled my eyes. I grabbed us a bowl and a pan, setting it in front of us.

"Theres really nothing to it. My mum just firmly believes that baking helps the soul, and if you're helping your souls together, it bonds them." I grabbed a tiny ice cream scoop and handed it to him. "Just pick up some dough with it and put it on the pan." He did so and, just like he was with everything else, he did it amazingly. I pointed at the dough. "I told you, sickeningly pink." I was referencing the pink chocolate chips.

"Hey, don't bash on the pinkness of this holiday." My aunt laughed. "So Harry-"

"Here we go." I giggled, taking the scoop from Harry's hand, brushing his fingers as I did so and blushing a bit.

"Don't interrupt me, my wonderful niece. Harry, how long have you liked my favorite neice?" He blushed a bit, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

"Well probably a little over a year now." My head whipped to the side.

"Harry, seriously?" He nodded, the tips of his ears reddening by the second. "I can't believe you kept quiet for over a year you dimwit." I nudged his side playfully.

"Don't be a hypocrite, how long have you liked me?" He raised an eyebrow at me and I couldnt help but smile.

"I realized I liked you when you had to fight the dragon fourth year. I was so worried about you." I slowly looked back at the cookie dough.

"That's far over a year!" He shook his head at me with a huge grin.

"You two are too cute." My aunt squealed. "Please tell me you know the exact moment you liked her too." She put her chin in her hand, intently listening.

"I do."

"Oh do tell." I tilted my head, waiting for an answer.

"It was last year sometime in January, we were going to Hogsmeade and it was snowing. While we were walking you looked at the sky and opened your mouth to catch snowflakes. Instead though, one fell right in your eye and you acted as if you were just shot. You fell into my arms all dramatic telling to to kiss it better. You closed your eyes so I could do so and all I could see was the snow that had fallen in your hair and eyelashes. I knew then." Sometime halfway through he couldn't look me in the eyes. The whole family was listening at this point, just quiet, more quiet than I had heard them in a while.

"Harry, that's so sweet. And I'm now realizing that was a horrible attempt of mine at flirting." I laughed, grabbing his face and kissing his cheek.

"You have such a way with words young man." My dad nodded at Harry. I suspiciously watched as he waved his wand.

*Oh No*

I looked up to see a pink heart shaped flower growing above us.

*Kissletoe*

Harry looked up at it with a puzzled face.

"Its a kissletoe. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Kiss you?"

"Yeah..."

He shook his head and grabbed my face softly, bringing his lips to mine and smiling into it quickly. I rubbed my thumb across his cheek and smiled back. As we pulled away, cheers came from the table and I buried myself in Harry's neck.

*I hope this boy is my forever.*

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

snowball fight

There is cursing in this one. This is pure mayhem but I had a lot of fun writing this!

Team 1 - Kat, Spot, Blink, Albert, Specs, Buttons, Les, Smalls, Tommy Boy

Team 2 - Jack, Race, Mush, Finch, Romeo, Elmer, Davey, JoJo, Henry

It was a yearly tradition that they all looked forward to. When the first big snowfall fell in the city, the group would descend upon Central Park and have a big snowball fight. The group of 18 were divided so that couples (or brothers) weren’t on the same team.

“Men,” a throat cleared to his left. “And women, we gather here for war. Every one of you has prepared for war and though it’s tragic, someone of us will not make it home.”

Jack walked between the two lines giving his speech, stoic and hands behind his back as he marched. Kat merely rolled her eyes as some of their friends heckled him. “It’s a snowball fight, not war, Jack.”

“He’s been practicing this speech since snow was even mentioned in the forecast.” Kat called, as her husband gave her a look.

“Troops!” Jack whistled, getting their attention as the heckling and discussion stopped. “You’re not couples on this battlefield, you’re all enemies and this is war. Spot, explain the rules.”

Spot joined Jack on his pacing. “Men and women, we’re here for an epic snowball fight. We are here to see which team is superior. You will have tenminutes to make as many snowballs as possible before we battle. Every man for themselves then we battle until the last man is standing. Any questions?”

“Timeout zone?” Kat crossed her arms, giving her husband and brother-in-law a look.

The timeout zone was something they instituted a few years back for anyone who got a little overzealous. At one time or another, all of them had spent time in the zone. “Bench over there. Crutchie will be there and he’ll keep track of penalty time. Any other questions?”

“How long do we gotta be out here for?” Smalls asked, looking between her brothers. “Are you trying to freeze us to death?”

Jack looked at Spot. They both chuckled at their little sister’s whining. “Until the last man stands.”

“Alright y’all - let’s blitz them so we can get this done and over with.” Smalls gave her team a look as a few of them agreed.

Spot gave his sister a look. “Any other questions?”

“We doing safe zones?” Blink called, raising his hand.

Spot gave him a look, rolling his eyes. “Not this year. Besides too many people crowded into them to avoid getting hit and that’s the whole point of a snowball fight. Any other questions?”

“What if the timeout zone is overcrowded like it was last year?” Crutchie asked that one as a few groans escaped the group.

The previous year was awful - couples ganged up with one another to fight the battle. At one point Jack, Kat, Spot, and Race were the only ones not in the timeout zone.

“If it gets too crowded, then we’ll call a timeout and cool our jets.” Spot said, looking up and down the line. “Albert and Finch, no repeat of last year.”

Albert gave Spot a look. “Hey we weren’t the only ones that did it.”

“But you’re the ones I’m calling out. Stay away from each other.” Spot gave them both a look. “Any other questions?”

Tommy Boy raised his hand as Spot nodded at him. “We’re getting hot chocolate after this right?”

Jack chuckled, at the many questions that were. Ok’ing in. Spot groaned loudly, his patience running thin. “YES NOW ANYMORE QUESTIONS RELATED TO THE GAME?”

Silence met them as Jack dismissed them. Kat and Spot led their group to the east side of the park while Jack and Race led their group to the west.

Once they were all huddled up, Jack yelled ten minutes and they got to work. Typically the two were team captains as their teams changed every year.

“What’s the plan for Team Spat?” Albert asked, clapping his hands together as he and the rest of the team gathered around Kat and Spot.

Spot leaned his head in, pointing out the strategy as everyone nodded. There were a few questions as Kat and Spot went over the plan they had devised a few weeks ago. The two took the epic snowball fight more seriously than their counterparts.

Meanwhile in Jack and Race’s group, their group looked to their fearless leader who shrugged and grinned. “Every man for themselves. Just pelted people as fast as you can.”

Crutchie blew a whistle when the tenminutes was up. Jack, Race, Spot, and Kat met Crutchie in the middle of the field. Crutchie gave them a look. “Now I want a clean match. No wiley ways out of either team. Shake hands and the match will begin on my whistle.”

The four exchanged handshakes, glaring at their significant other. “May the best men and women win.”

The two teams faced each other, putting on their most intimidating faces, glaring at the competition. Crutchie stood, shaking his head at the antics of his friends before sharply blowing the whistle. Snowballs flew in either direction as shouts of being hit or victory were soon heard.

“Dammit.” Kat cussed, hurling another snowball in the direction of her husband only to miss, as Spot came up to her and whispered something in her ear. She grinned at him, nodding.

Kat dropped the snowball she was holding, stalking across enemy lines up to her husband and threw her arms around him before passionately kissing him. Spot followed behind her, showering snowballs at him. Kat pulled back and walked over to Spot’s side with a satisfied grin.

Crutchie’s sharp whistle blew loudly as all play came to a halt. “Jack, Kat, and Spot all to the timeout zone!”

Spot and Kat high-fived, laughing. “So worth it.”

The three stalked over to the timeout zone, sitting on the bench with their arms crossed as they watched the action in front of them. “What was that?”

“That was us getting you back for hitting us.” Kat gave him a look, stretching out her shoulder where a violent snowball had hit. “Damn, why do you have to have such a wicked throw?”

Jack laughed, shrugging. “Did you forget I played baseball in college?”

The lightbulb clicked over Kat and Spot’s heads. “Oh yea . . . kinda did forget about that.”

“So what's the strategy behind that?” Jack asked, giving the two a look, while watching Race throw a wicked ball towards Albert.

Spot chuckled. “Can’t beat them . . . join them.”

Crutchie watched the three. “Your time is up. Again, no wiley ways you three.”

They all turned to him with a grin, holding up their hands. “Yes, dad.”

Letting the two walk ahead of her, Kat bent down and scooped up some snow, forming it into a perfect snowball before lobbing it at Jack’s back, perfect hit. She giggled, watching him turn around and run towards her, causing her to shriek loudly.

Jack tackled her in the snow as Spot shook his head continuing on his way back to his team. He took a moment to survey the field, looking for a tall blonde. He could hear his laugh as he attacked his best friend. Scooping down, he grabbed his own handful of snow, forming it into a snowball, sneaking back over to enemy lines.

“Pssst . . . he’s behind the tree in the corner.” Spot looked behind him with a grin. Finch stood there with his own snowball. “He’s made Albie his target.”

Spot grinned, looking at his friend. “I’ll take Race, you take Albie?”

Finch grinned as the two snuck up to their significant other. Finch blitzed Albie while Spot merely snuck up behind Race and stuffed snow down his coat, eliciting a girlie scream to escape Race’s mouth.

Spot took off running backwards, watching Race do a jig to get the snow out of his coat. “Remember who you’re going home with Conlon!”

Blink and Mush were violently throwing off handed insults at one another while pelting the other with snowballs. Spot laughed watching Blink tackle Mush into the snow before shoving a handful of snow into his face.

Meanwhile, Romeo and Elmer had ganged up on Specs and Buttons, each person throwing as many snowballs as possible, only to have one of the many hit a target, though many of the targeted snowballs actually hit their own teammate.

Davey watched the battlefield with a cocked eyebrow at the pure mayhem that was in front of him. His eyes zeroed in on Les, along with Tommy Boy and Smalls, who were sneaking up on unsuspecting victims and bombarded snowballs at Jojo and Henry, who’s yelps and screams made Davey laugh.

Soon he felt a snowball pelt his back before a few more were added in quick succession. Whipping around, he got another snowball in the face, eyes wide. “Thought we were friends, Kelly.”

She laughed, throwing her head back as she threw another snowball in his direction. “Not on the battlefield, we aren’t. Besides, my husband said it best, every man for themselves.”

“Then why is Jack standing beside you?” Davey asked, giving her a look.

She bent down, grabbed more snow before shaping it into the perfect snowball. “He may have said that you were in la la land. But the throwing of the snowball was alllllllll me.”

“Better watch your back, Plums.” He called, leaning down and grabbing his own snowball.

Throwing her snowball at him, she cocked an eyebrow at him, holding up a gloved hand. “It’s been Kelly for the last 18 months, David. Mind your manners.”

“Hey our team captain is in trouble.” Someone called as she heard rushing of feet come up behind her, a flurry of snowballs in the air in Davey’s direction. “Get him, guys!”

A snowball was hurled towards his chest, throwing him off balance as he lost his footing and fell to the ground in a dramatic fashion. Katherine put her hand up, looking at her friends on either side. “I say it’s a victory for Team SPAT. Are we all in agreement?”

An excited cheer went up, as they all looked at Spot and Jack for the official call. “I’m okay with conceding.”

Spot offered a hand to Jack, as he eagerly shook on it. “Well played, my friend.”

“Hot chocolate?” Spot asked, as Jack nodded. The losing team had to buy the winning team hot chocolate as a prize.

Jack watched everyone start to walk off their battlefield with a grin. Kat laced her arms around his waist, leaning into him, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Well played, captain.”

“Well played, major.” He pulled her into his arms, before dipping her to place a kiss on her lips. All of their friends, by that point, had noticed the two weren’t following behind, and had stopped and catcalled Jack as he dipped her.

Pulling her up, Jack grinned at her before pressing another kiss to her lips. “Well play, Jack, well played.”

He grinned, holding out his hand for her to grab. “All in a day's work.”

The two walked to where their friends were waiting. Spot and Race walking to their side. “Do you really gotta make a scene in the park?”

Kat bent down, grabbing a handful of snow, giving Race a look. “Do you really not know how to keep your mouth shut?”

She lunged for him, knowing him off his feet. A oomph came from both of their mouths before she shoved snow down his shirt. “Maybe that’ll teach you to keep your mouth shut?”

“The only way that’ll happen . . .” Race trailed off, looking over at Spot with a suggestive look on his face.

Kat groaned, grabbing another handful of snow, pushing it in his face, before getting to her feet. “Spot, come get your fiancé. . . he’s running his mouth again.”

Spot held a hand down for Race, giving him a look. “Why do you have to always rile her up?”

“Because it’s fun.” Race grinned, bouncing on his toes. “Let’s go! Hot chocolate waits for no one.”

Kat gave Spot a look. “Are you sure it’s okay for him to have anymore sugar?”

“He’ll crash and burn tonight. It’s the one night of the year that he doesn’t talk in his sleep.” Spot grinned, lacing his fingers with Race’s as they started to make their way out of the park.

The group of friends grinned at each other, reflecting on what a great day it had been. Yearly traditions were truly the best as they got to act like five year olds for a bit while running around in the freshly laid snow. Jack grinned to himself as he squeezed Kat’s hand. Yes, his team had lost but in the end, he won by having a great partner by his side.

I’ve had this in my back pocket for a while now. What do you think? Feedback is always welcomed!!

[kronk-is-launchpad]

Here in the Garden (Chap. 1)

Summary:  Della Duck didn't think of the possible consequences of leaving her unhatched eggs. Nor did she think of the pain she'd cause to her 3 yr old daughter. Donald takes the triplets in a fit of emotions, but doesn't think to take his only niece. After being forced to give up searching for Della, Scrooge now devotes all his time & affection to his youngest niece. Elliot has grown up unaware that she has brothers, and now that very fact is holding her up by the thread.

MASTERLIST

[DuckTales 2017]

[DuckTales OC insert]

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elliot was at a meeting with Scrooge & the 'penny pinchers', bored out of her mind. Though surprisingly, she'd rather be no where else. Scrooge is the only person she could trust, and she didn't plan on that changing anytime soon.

   On the limo ride back Scrooge was telling Elliot about how annoying Glomgold was, and she responded with the usual "hm" And "huh". As the gate pulled into view, she could see a station wagon. LaunchPad lurched to a stop, sending Scrooge & Elliot out their seats. Scrooge got up, mad as ever.

"Why aren't we movin?!" He shouted.

Scrooge immediately moves over LaunchPad to honk the horn and get out the limo.

"Ay!!" He yelled angrily, "Jettison that jallopy from my driveway this instance you deadbeat!!"

A familiar duck exits the station wagon and walks towards Scrooge. They meet halfway, glaring at each other with sheathed anger.

"Donald Duck." Scrooge seethed.

"Uncle Scrooge." Donald responded.

Elliot's eyes widen, and she slowly gets out the limo.

"Dona?" Elliot called out quietly, tears starting to fill her eyes.

"Ellie?" Donald whispered, taking a step towards her.

Scrooge cuts Donald off, glaring at him with the fierceness of a beast.

"JETTISON THAT JALOPY FROM MY DRIVEWAY THIS INSTANT YA DEADBEAT!!" Scrooge growled loudly, annunciating each word with a poke of his cane.

The two duck spiraled off into a pointless argument as Elliot shifts her attention to the 3 kids in the car who were filled with excitements. They were clearly triplets, with different color-coded outfits to distinguish one from the other. The one duckling wore a red polo shirt with a baseball cap to match. The duckling to the right wore a green hoodie, and to the left was a duckling in a light blue long-sleeve with a darker blue t-shirt over it.

'Dona had kids?' she wondered, 'did he really forget about me?'

She gets shaken out her thoughts by Scrooge's yelling.

"YOU'RRREEEE WELCOME!!" he taunted loudly, but then realizing what had happened, "wait what?"

Donald huddles the triplets out of the station wagon, and over to Scrooge.

"Huey, Dewy, Louie," he introduced, "meet Scrooge McDuck."

The ducklings looked like they were about to burst from the intensity.

"Remember," Donald warned, "no tricks, no lies, no trouble."

"Yes Uncle Donald," the ducklings responded in-sync.

"I wasn't talking to you," Donald corrected, his eyes narrowing at Scrooge, who returned the favor.

After Donald drove away the 4 ducks start heading back to the car, sending Elliot into panic.

'What do I do?!' She thought nervously, 'I don't know these kids?!'

Then the limo door opened.

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!" Huey squealed, "it's you!"

"It's me?" Elliot questioned nervously.

"THE Elliot McDuck is my Aunt!" He screamed, "this is the greatest day of my life!"

 Huey jumped up & down outside the limo,  giddy with glee. The other 2 looked at the teen with curiosity & amazement. Scrooge ushers the triplets into the limo, and Huey immediately start bombarding the young duck with questions.

"How do you create such innovative designs for your prosthetics? What 3D printer do you use for the models? Do you build them here or at the McDuck bin? How much work do you get done in a day?"

Before Elliot could answer, Scrooge was already blocking the red clad duckling.

"Leave the lass alone," Scrooge grumbled.

"No Coo, it's quite alright," Elliot interrupted, "curiosity brings discoveries.

I think of what people need in a prosthetic, and strive to make it happen. I don't 3D print as of now, but I do have a small lab in McDuck Manor for making models though the prototypes & final products are made in the McDuck laboratory. I can get a sketch & model in a 9-5 work day, but I do take days off to cool down. I hope I've answered all your questions."

Huey looked at the teen in awe, writing down everything she said. The limo lurched to a stop, causing the triplets to fall out of their seats. The partition rolled down to reveal LaunchPad.

"You're all home now Mr.McDee," he announced, "have a great day Elli!"

"Much appreciated LaunchPad," Elliot thanked as she exited the vehicle.

 She bolts to the door, Mrs. Beakly opening it automatically as she disappeared inside. Scrooge followed, walking normally. Once Scrooge made it through, the door is slammed shut on the triplets for a few seconds, before quickly being opened by Mrs. Beakly.

- - - - - -

'I didn't know Donald had kids,' Elliot thought as she made her way through the house, 'Did he really forget about me so easily?'

 She reached the garage, a wave of emotions fell over her. Seeing the souvenirs brought an old feeling of naivety, but it also brought tears to her eyes. Seeing all that happened while she was stuck to a garden with no social interactions outside of a butler. While lost in thought, she didn't notice 4 ducklings sneak in. As she ponders an old painting she hears a loud gong. She whips her head to see Webby being chased by a headless horse.

"*gasp* Ms. McDuck?" Webby blurted, "what are you doin in here?"

Before Elliot could counter there was another gong. The girls turn to see a ghost pirate chasing the triplets. Elliot runs past them, grabbing the kids and hiding.

"What are you 4 doing here?!" She shouted, "this isn't a playground!"

"We were bored!" Dewey responds frantically, "how was I supposed to know there were ghost pirates!?"

"And if we hear one more gong, an unspeakable evil will be set loose!" She screams.

"Not if I can help it!" Elliot growled, getting up.

She runs out, grabbing a sword and jumping on top of boxes.

"Hey Dorky Jones!" She shouted, catching the pirate's attention, "Where'd you get that hat? Party City?"

 The ghost let out a screech as it flew toward the teen at lightning speed. Elliot quickly dodges, flipping over the undead attacker and landing gracefully behind him. The pirate grabbed a glowing sword, ready to fight. Before either could charge a heavily accented voice rang out.

"What in Dismal Downs is going on here?!"

The 4 young ducks sheepishly turn to the elder one, as Elliot smiled nervously.

"Why good noon Coo!" Elliot greeted hurriedly, "What brings you here to garage?"

"Garage!?"

Before Scrooge could tear into the 5 ducks, another screech ripped itself free from the beak of Elli's opponent. Elliot quickly parries the glowing sword that was speeding towards her. She deflected it up, but the sword quickly turned itself around and was back to speeding at her face full-force.

"Aw phooey," she muttered tirelessly as she parried the endless attacks from the sword, getting pushed away from the group more and more.

"Could *pant* really use-woah! SOME HELP!" The teen shouted as the swipes got faster.

"The sword won't stop till it hits its target!" Webby shouted from the side lines as Scrooge is facing the ghost pirate and its new partner, the headless man horse.

'What do I do? What do I do?' Elliot thought frantically as she was growing tired from the persistent saber.

She could feel a lightbulb go off in her head.

'Ah-hA, That's it!'

After a final deflect she drops her sword, her stare calculated and confident as the sword was speeding back at her.

"Ms. McDuck what are you doing?!" Huey screeched out in terror as he covers his younger brothers eyes.

"Trust me!" The teen called out, her gaze still on the sword.

Just as the blade was about to impale her she quickly side stepped, ripping her sleeve and drawing a small amount of blood. The sword stopped glowing, dropping immediately. Elliot returns to the others to find the headless horse and ghost pirate gone.

"Now what are you all doing in the ga-rage?!" The Scotsman shouted, slamming his cane to the ground.

"So it IS a garage!" Huey exclaimed.

"B-but what about all this treasure?" Webby asked desperately, "The garden hose of destiny, Montezuma's stack of old magazines?"

It takes the energetic duck a moment to realize her words, and she slumped her shoulders in defeat.

"Unbelievable..." Scrooge growled, "I invite you into my home-"

"You locked us in a room!" Louie countered angrily.

"You did whAt?" Elliot cried out in disbelief.

" I gave them marbles!" Scrooge shouted back."

"All we wanted to do was spend time with you." Huey explained.

"Well now you have," Scrooge grumbled, "and look at the mess it's got me."

"I guess family's nothing but trouble," Dewey muttered aloud, "right Scrooge?"

Elliot watched as Scrooge's face contorted into an anger she never saw often. She took a step towards her angered parental.

"Everybody out." He growled.

"Coo let's just calm down for a min-"

"OUT!" He screeched, hitting the gong with his cane.

Everyone gawked at the action, some covering their beaks in shock.

"Oh what are you gaping at?"Scrooge asked, "the curse is only activated if you ring the gong three times, and-and you already hit it two times didn't you?"

Then the statue started to crack.

The stone crumbled away to reveal a slithery golden dragon. It broke through the roof, letting out a mighty roar.

"Pixiu, the Gold-Hunting Dragon," Webby muttered out.

"Gold hunting? Sounds great!" Louie commented.

"Not when you're Duckburg's single largest owner of gold!" Huey exclaimed.

"Aah! Me money bin!" Scrooge screeched in horror as he grabbed the dragon's tail, "Elliot! Take them inside!"

Elliot watched in awe as her legal guardian gets yanked into the sky. After minutes of shock pass, Webby starts to walk out of the garage with a mission.

"Where are you going?" Dewey called out.

"I'm gonna go eat a hamburger." Webby stated confidently.

"We're in!" Shouted the triplet

"Anything for Coo." Elliot said, joining the quartet.

"Cool!" Webby squealed, "and to be clear, I'm gonna go catch the dragon. The hamburger was a metaphor from before."

"Yeah, yeah, no, we get it. We get it." Dewy responded, "But how are we gonna get up there?"

Launchpad pops in out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out the teen.

"I'm a pilot," He informed, an excited smile on his face.

"Well what are we wait for? To the Sunchaser!" Elliot shouted as they all ran to the large plane.

They quickly board the aircraft, Elliot buckling up the kids. She barely sits down when launchpad lurched the Sunchaser into the sky. Elliot struggles to look over her shoulder.

"You guys doing alright?" She calls out.

She here's a shaky chorus of "yeah!"s, along with one "We're gonna die!".

"Yeah they're fine," Elliot muttered reassuringly to herself.

Once the plane steadied enough Elliot hopped out of her seat and over to the kids, unbuckling them.

"Ok listen up team," Elliot commanded, "we need to form a chain to grab Scrooge. I'll be second in line while three of you support me. Who's grabbing him?"

"Step aside comrades," Dewey instructed, stepping out from the group, "I was born for this."

They all get in a line, linking arms with each other. The plane is becoming more unstable as they approach the flailing Scotsman.

"Launchpad now!" Elliot ordered, tightening her grip on Dewey's hand.

Launchpad opens the hatch, the air almost vacuuming Dewey out if not the duck-made chain. Dewey reaches out just as Scrooge looses grip on the golden dragon, grabbing the old duck's arm.

"Now heave!" the teen shouted over the thrashing winds.

The 5 ducks pull with all their might, dragging the Scotsman into the plane.

"I thought I told you to go to your-" Scrooge was cut off by Dewey.

"No time. We gotta work fast." He turns to the pink duck, "Webby, how do we stop it?

"It's mystical, so we need a mystical device," Webby stated, "like an oblivion mirror, or a medusa gauntlet, or-"

"Like this?" Louie suggested, pulling the gauntlet out of his pocket.

Everyone stares at the youngest duck, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"What? I was gonna give it back," He assured horribly, "Now, how do we get him down there?"

"Garden hose of destiny!" Huey chanted, pulling the makeshift rope out of thin air, "Launchpad, we need to swing him out. Nosedive towards the bin and get ready to pull up!"

"Yes, sir, random kid I just met!" Launchpad responded enthusiastically as the kids tied Scrooge to the makeshift rope.

"Any questions?" Dewey asked.

"Since when is Launchpad a pilot?" Scrooge questions as the hatch opens up again.

Elliot puts her hand on the Scotsman's should.

"Have a nice trip Coo," she said jokingly before pushing him out of the plane, "see you next fall!"

Launchpad nosedives towards the money bin, pulling up at the last moment and swinging Scrooge towards the mythical beast. Scrooge grips onto the tail with his gauntlet clad hand, reveling in his victory.

"You guys, our family is awesome!" Dewey cheered as they all held on to the garden hose of destiny.

The golden dragon upon realizing its predicament, started to thrash about, catapulting Scrooge high into the air. The ducks (minus Elliot) watched in horror as the Scotsman was free falling in the air.

"Ah for old times sake," Elliot mumbled before leaping out of the plane in a swan dive.

She caught up with Scrooge, who she gave a mischievous smirk to.

"See you in the gold," she shouted smugly, "old man!"

She accelerates past an offended Scrooge and dives gracefully into the money bin, the latter following suit. She comes up up for air, laying back onto the cold hard cash as faint cheering can be heard in the background. The cheering doesn't last for long as she then hears a loud crash. She lurches out of the bin along with Scrooge to help the kids.

—————————

"In the short time I've known you," Scrooge stared angrily, "you've wrecked my home and my money bin, unleashed several ancient evils, and almost got me killed, twice!"

"Four times if you count...each..monster...as an...individual..time," Huey corrects nervously.

Scrooge stomps in front of the 4 kids, Elliot gasping lightly as he does. Then in a turn of events he let's out a boisterous laugh.

"That was incredible! When you pulled me into the airplane and said 'No time!' And who would have thought of a Medusa Gauntlet?! Brilliant! Oh, and then you swung me out and pulled up just in time and..." Scrooge gets up, "You kids are nothing but trouble! Curse me kilts, have I missed trouble! I suppose I'll have to keep an eye on you to teach you how to get into trouble properly."

Scrooge pulls out his golden flip phone as the kids look excitedly at him.

"You mean?" Dewey questioned hopefully.

"Beakley! Clear my schedule!" Scrooge commanded into the flip phone, "I'm taking the wee ones on a field trip."

He hangs up the phone, turning to the other ducks.

"Now," He says devilishly, "let's go find the lost city of Atlantis!"

The Ducks cheered out a great big yeah.

"And no one tell your uncle Donald!" Scrooge adds.

The Ducks cheer even louder.

"Wait who is that?" Launchpad asks.

[ruesteas]

Ghosting Ch.2

They say when you die you see a bright, hypnotic white light.

A light that etches itself into your memory, beckons you to follow it with every fiber in your being.

Harumi tries to imagine the light, plots out every detail it must contain in the moments after the fall that cracked her ribs and splintered her breath.

She’s great at plotting, she killed the ninja afterall.

The light inches closer into the corners of eyes. She can see it so clearly, feel the warmth enveloping her.

Death will whisk her off to Mom and Dad and her work in Ninjago is finished. She’s sure Emperor Garmadon must have finished off Lloyd by now.

Her mind sowers at the thought of the green ninja.

Her enemy.

Her parents' murderer.

Her ex-whatever it was he thought they were.

And suddenly, and she swears it’s green, there's a harsh tug where her ankle should be, if dead people had ankles that is. A green, murky darkness that is pulling her away from the comfort of light.

She wonders if she’s going to the bad place, Lloyd destroyed the Cursed realm years ago after Mako, or whatever his name was tried to destroy Ninjago.

She admired him for his efforts initially, After all possessing the green ninja? It’s brilliant emotional manipulation.

Lloyd might have the power of Oni and Dragon but he’s too trusting, too soft on the inside.

And then using that to utterly destroy the ninja emotionally and render them powerless? She doesn’t stop hearing about the ninja’s hollowed faces and flickering powers from Ultra Violet for weeks.

She finally hears about the ninja’s victory as her lady in waiting is bleaching her hair at her “father’s” request.

“The blonde roots aren’t attractive to your suitors” the older woman tells her, raking the bleach through her hair.

The smell of it is suffocating, and with every harsh yank on the thin strands of her hair she hopes, no prays, that stupid ghost will defeat the ninja.

But moments later Hutchins excitdelty bursts through the door with word that the Ninja have defeated Morro and his army.

The woman envelops Hutchins in a hug and gives one last painful tug at her hair before motioning to Harumi to join the celebration.

She forces a smile on her face for the thousanth time that week, and silently curses at that stupid ghost for his pathetic loss.

There is a banquet that night, her parents have the palace decorated with strands of bright green lights to celebrate the return of their beloved green ninja.

The table is lined with warm noodle dishes, expensive meats and mountains of fruit but Harumi knows not to eat too much, or her “mother” will lecture her for hours to come, before she inevitably forces her to spit it back up.

Perfect princesses have perfect figures, she supposes.

But as she picks at her food she realizes the flaw in Morro’s plan, in every other pathetic villain's plan who tried to destroy the green ninja before her.

They all knew the obvious, Lloyd is willing to sacrifice everything for his friends, those stupid five, no-now six ninja.

And vice versa, the team relies too much on one another, but that is an easy weakness to exploit and prey upon.

No what they were missing she concludes, was silence.

They were too showy, so bombastic in their plans and presentation that they laid out every card in their hand before the game had even begun.

She remembers encountering Pythor as a young child in her old village, moments before Samurai X had swooped in before the ninja to save her.

The anacondrai boasted about stealing the fang blades, monologed about Lloyd releasing the serpentine and uniting them without even trying and cackled about awakening the great devourer as if the ninja were powerless to stop him.

She supposes they didn’t stop him, but Lord Garmadon did.

And the ninja would stop Pythor again and again. He was only the first in an endless cycle of showmanship among Ninjago’s evils.

The overlord knocked down half the city with a spider mech, and announced his plans to half the city giving the ninja ample time to freeze him into oblivion.

Chen stomped around with an army of anacondrai and had announced and left papers laying around with key pieces of his plan, or at least that’s what she heard from what some ex-employees of his had stated after joining the new Sons of Garmadon.

And as much as she admired his cunning, Morro had fallen victim to this as well. Summoning an army of ghosts and some demon queen from the Cursed Realm without regard for their obvious weakness in a city surrounded by water.

She won’t be so careless. She just needs to keep her cards close to her chest, keep the ninja close to her chest. She ponders if Lloyd would be foolish enough to let a stranger get that close to him, get so close to his precious team.

He will though, she’s a helpless princess overall.

She can stay quiet.

She is brought back from her memories as the force beneath her feet pulls her down with a final harsh tug.

She spirals through the deep green and pitch black of the world around her cursing Lloyd’s name with every breath left in her spirit.

------------------

Lloyd arrives at the morgue faster than he wants to.

He almost wants to yell at Jay and Nya for building such perfect bikes for speeding down the open road, but he wants to end this and the sooner the better.

He parks his bike in front of the building, it stands alone a few miles outside of ninjago city. Thick layers of dust and sand cover it’s roof and cobwebs and nestled between the beams of it’s entrance.

Lloyd muses that it’s only fitting a morgue looks so dead on the outside.

He hesitates at the entrance, his hand ghosting over the doorbell.

He’s gonna have to identify her, confirm it’s her body and not someone else killed in the wreckage he caused by letting her into his life.

Another smear of blood that stains his hands after every destructive battle he could have prevented.

He wishes Kai were here, his big brother would give him some form of encouragement before making some dumb joke about Harumi’s fashion sense already having killed her long before the building did.

He wouldn’t have laughed at it, but Kai would anchor him to the ground and help him through it all, taking him out for some emotional support ice cream like he always does when Lloyd is dealing with his mountain of trauma.

Your seventeen, get a grip he snaps at himself. Forcing his thumb to press into the doorbell and let out a pleasant chime.

An attendant of the morgue greets him, the man is so pale he reminds Lloyd of one of the zombies he and Jay had seen in that old horror movie last week.

“Mr. Garmadon I thought you would be the one here to identify her” the man muses.

Lloyd forces an emotionless stare, he doesn’t know how to feel but looking disgusted and paranoid probably wouldn’t be very “Green Ninja” like.

“Yea- well, it only seemed proper,” he says to the morgue attendant. And the man nods in response.

“We need you to identify her, Follow me please” He walks towards a back door, motioning for  Lloyd to follow.

The walls begin to close in around him, he can feel the anxiety crushing into him. Panic bubbles in his brain. Out- I need to get out his brain screams and the light bulbs are flickering around him.

Oh FSM now my stupid powers are losing it too. He sees a wooden door in the corner of his eye with a faded sign of “Bathroom” taped on.

“BATHROOM” he shouts and the morgue attendant whips his head around at the green ninjas outburst.

Lloyd quickly composes himself reigning in his panic and the energy threatening to shatter all the lights in the building for just a few seconds longer.

“I-uh need to use the bathroom” he says before speeding to the wooden door at his left.

He slams the door behind him, coughing as the dust of the clearly dirty bathroom rains down on him. “Aw Gross” he mumbles and rakes his hands through his hair to clean it.

The bathroom is strangely cold, and Lloyd briefly wonders why they keep the bathroom AC on and not the lobby’s.

He decides to splash some water on his face, and work on those deep breathing techniques Cole showed him for dealing with panic attacks.

The mirror in front of him is cracked and the light of the bathroom is only being given from an old lightbulb in the center of the room, giving him even less of a reflection.

Something creeps it’s way up his spine, a force that’s cold and empty ghosting across his body  and his eyes once again drift to the mirror.

But instead of his own disheveled reflection he sees the familiar green glow of what he knows can only be a ghost, and his heart stops thinking Morro might be back.

But the figure has long almost silver hair flowing down to its back, and it’s outfit is tattered with deep gashes and a missing sleeve. He finally meets it’s eyes and sees the smeared paint on the figure's face, now a dark green from the transformation.

Harumi stares back at him, eyes widening with his.

And with that surge of overwhelming panic, the lightbulb shatters above him.

[poppyknitt]

Hopeless Purgatory- A JSE Egos Fanfic

Recap: Because of recent events, Jackieboyman is left half-blind and mostly under the control of Marvin, Chase is left kicked out of his now unconscious body, which is presumably also under the corrupt magician’s control, Jameson, the only known tie Chase’s spirit has to the physical plane, is unconscious, with the likelihood of his survival unknown, Robbie with a cracked skull, and Signe, otherwise known as Wiishu, still missing in her attempts to discover every detail of the plans that Dark, Anti and Marvin have for the egos.

Previous Fic

Next Fic

[October 9th boyos]

Chase wandered around the empty house that he called home, having been left entirely to his own devices as a ghostly dad bro after JJ was brutally knocked out of the equation by Marvin only 19 hours earlier. He noticed that the locator he’d been using to talk with the others was missing from the place he’d left it, so, naturally, he decided to try and talk to whoever had it now. Surely it’d be better than just flat out suffering in solitary silence, right?

“Hey, bro. Dunno which one of the two-Well, three, technically- you are, but, uh, I noticed you took the locator?” He asked skeptically.

“Oh! Heya! I didn’t realize that’s what this was. Wait, who is this? How are you talking to me?” Signe’s voice responded from the other end of the connection.

“Uh. Hey Signe. It’s me, Chase. I’m kinda a ghost right now.”

“What? How? Are you dead or something?! What on earth have I been missing?!” She responded.

“Not quite. Marvin accidentally kicked me out of my body. And, uh, everything. We’re down to just Seán and Henrik being left totally in control and not in a hospital bed.” He deadpanned.

“Oh no! Are JJ and Robbie okay?!”

“Robbie’s skull is cracked, but otherwise he’s fine. Jamie, on the other hand... oh god... He... We don’t know if he’s going to wake up or not. He’s sorta in a coma right now.” He cringed at the memory of the two youngest egos clinging onto each other in the unconscious, horridly bruised states they were in when he last saw them.

“Hey, wait, if you’re a ghost, doesn’t that mean you could technically go to Stacy’s house and see your kids every day without her knowing?” Signe asked.

“Oh my god. I didn’t think of that. Signe, you are a freaking genius!” Chase beamed, instantly forgetting the memories of the aftermath of Marvin’s attack on JJ and Robbie.

“I know!” She chirped, “But there’s still the question of how you would communicate with them..”

“No idea, but if they’re like most other kids, they’ll probably be able to interact with me, unlike Stacy or any of the other adults I’ve seen so far.” He shrugged, forgetting she wasn’t right there with him.

“So... You’re relying on your kids’ ability to see ghosts, and only their ability to see ghosts..?” She asked.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said, already making his way to Stacy’s house.

“Why am I not surprised?” She laughed.

...

....

.....

Chase snuck into his ex’s house by ghosting his way up to the balcony in the back, on the second floor, which conveniently happened to lead straight to his son’s room.

“Gray?” He cautiously called his son, using his nickname, so he would know it was Chase.

“Dad?” He heard the 11-year-old’s response, and the little man poked his head into his room.

“Grayson! Bed!” He said, raising a finger to his lips, so the kid would know to whisper.

“Grayson? Is your dad here or something?” Chase heard Stacy’s call from down the stairs.

“No! Sorry, mom! I just thought I heard his voice. Guess I forgot to turn the TV off!” His son called back, and then came into the room, silently running over to Chase and trying to hug him. When he just fell onto the bed next to his father, Grayson looked at Chase in confusion.

“Sorry, kiddo... Dad’s in a bit of a ghostly state at the moment.” Chase sighed, feeling really bad that his son couldn’t hug him anymore.

“Oh... That’s awesome! And super concerning. But mostly awesome!” Grayson beamed, grinning childishly. Chase laughed, and did his best to hug his son, despite the limitations brought by his lack of a physical body.

“Hey, Gray, can you do me a favor and go get you sister?” He asked when he finally stopped hugging his son, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah! Hang on, I’ll be right back!” Grayson said, and darted off to his sister’s room across the hall. When he came back a few minutes later, Samantha was following him, and they were carrying some paper, crayons, and other art materials.

“Daddy!” Samantha gasped when she saw Chase, and dropped everything she was holding. Grayson held his little sister back as she attempted to go hug her father, like he had, explaining the situation to her.

“So, basically, we can’t really hug Dad right now. But I bet he can color with us! Right dad?” Grayson finished his explaination, and looked up at his father for confirmation. Chase nodded, smiling happily.

“Yay!” Samantha cheered quietly. The three of them went onto the balcony, and the kids set up the art supplies so they could spend the rest of the day coloring and doing all the other fun things they would normally do on the weekends he was allowed to have his kids over.

When the day had flown by, and the sun was finally beginning to set, Chase found himself alone on the balcony, as Stacy had called the kids down to eat dinner. Normally, he would have gone down with them, and attempted to hug Stacy, but she had a new boyfriend now, and he knew that she would probably never let him that close to her ever again, not unless she really needed a friend, and had no other options. So, instead, he sat alone on the balcony, sullenly watching as the sun set before him.

“It’s really pretty out right now, isn’t it?” He head Jackie speak up behind him. He whipped around in surprise, finding that Jackie had indeed briefly taken his spirit out of the astral plane and into this one.

“Jackie, what on earth are you doing here?” He asked.

“Well, a little bird told me that you were spending the time you have stuck like this with your kids, so I thought it would be nice to join you as a ghost, since I doubt seeing their Awesome Uncle Jackie in the state his physical body is in at the moment wouldn’t exactly do their mental health much good.” Jackie grinned, his joke managing to provoke a laugh from his “little brother”.

“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t.” He chuckled, and patted the seat next to him, “Come sit down, bro. I’m sure the kids would love it if you helped them color a picture.”

When the kids got back upstairs, the four of them spent the last few hours left until Samantha and Grayson had to go to bed playing around, coloring, joking, laughing, and just having a lot of general, all around childish fun, despite the situations that had brought them to this moment. Once they were called to bed, though, Jackie said it was time he got to sleep, too, much to the kids’ disappointment, and left.

When Stacy neglected to come upstairs and tuck Samantha and Grayson in, Chase decided he would be the better parent now, and went to Samantha’s room first. She was climbing into her bed, so he gave her a little bit to get situated, and went to the side of her bed.

“Hey Sammy. You doing okay?” He asked, crouching down so he could look closer at the 6-year-old and make sure she wasn’t injured or anything. He knew Stacy wouldn’t do that to the kids, but honestly, he didn’t trust the new boyfriend just yet. He just had to be sure.

“I’m okay, daddy. Don’t worry.” She replied innocently, though, something about the way she said it didn’t feel right to him.

“Okay... But Sammy, if anyone, grown-up or not, hurts you, you gotta be sure to tell me, alright?” He said, tucking her in, and she just nodded in response. He smiled, and did his best to kiss her on the forehead, despite being a ghost at the moment, “Always remember that I love you more than anything else, alright kiddo?”

“Okay, daddy. I love you too.” She smiled. He walked out of the room, instinctively hitting the lightswitch, which only made the lightbulb break.

Shit! He thought, as Stacy called up to them, asking if everything was okay up there.

“We’re fine, momma! Rocky just knocked something over, that’s all!” Grayson yelled back. Chase felt his heart soar, because the fact that Grayson used the robotic dinosaur toy he’d gotten for him as a birthday present back when he was Samantha’s age in his excuse meant that Stacy had kept the toy.

“Okay... Just make sure you clean the mess up and turn him off, alright Grayson?” Stacy’s response came.

“I will, mom!” Grayson called, winking at his father to let him know he had his back.

“Thanks, kid.” Chase said, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“No prob, dad. Though, you may wanna clean that mess up before mom or Alex come upstairs in a couple hours... Otherwise I won’t be able to lie for you again.” He said, giving Chase a big, cheeky grin.

“Well, I should hope you won’t have to do it again, regardless of whether I clean up my mess or not!” Chase grinned back, as his son got into bed.

“That depends on how much else you plan on breaking while you’re visiting in your ghosty form.” Grayson joked, and Chase ruffled his hair.

“Alright, ya rascal, time for bed. Don’t make me break another bulb to get you to sleep, young man.” Chase joked back, while also putting his dad-stance on.

“Okay, okay! You’re making my head cold!” Grayson said, turning his lamp off and getting under the blankets.

“Good night, son.” Chase smiled, tucking him in.

“G’night, dad.” Grayson said, and fell silent, as he closed his eyes. Chase left his son’s bedroom, and looked around the upstairs for a bit after he cleaned up the shattered lightbulb pieces. He didn’t really think much had changed since he last saw the place, at least, not until he got to the master bedroom, and saw a couple of fist-shaped dents in the walls. He felt his heart drop, as his suspicions about the new guy were confirmed.

If he really did still love Stacy, Chase knew he was going to have to do everything in his power to get this man out of the house before JJ woke back up, or else he would have to drag his brothers even further into this mess- And that was not something he intended to do.

Thank god I have the ghosting powers required to do this then, huh?

——————————————————

Part Thirteen of

The Unraveling

(A very big chapter in a slightly darker version of the Jacksepticeye & Markiplier Egoverse)

Part Fourteen

@antis-loyal-puppet

@chaoticcrimsonrose

@septic-dr-schneep

@spaceykidd0

@tiny-septic-puppet

[askguyslikeus]

((thank you to guest writer @actualbird !!!))

See the thing about Evangeline is that it's pretty much as old as Jeremy and Michael's entire friendship. Probably older, actually. Evangeline, of course, being the minifridge in their dorm that houses the Jeremy’s fantastic stock of Mountain Dew Red.

It was passed down into the Mell household from a distant relative before landing in Michael's basement for prime snacking purposes. There, high on sentimentality and weed, teen Jeremy and Michael named the fridge after roughly an hour of scrolling through baby names while Evie ("Holy shit," Jeremy remembers saying to the ceiling. "Evie can be its nickname. That's so cute. Evie.") kept watch in the corner.

They take Evie with them when they go to college ("Ohana means family," Michael had said. "And family means no fridge gets left behind.") and it's been smooth sailing ever since. Evie doubles as a bedside desk. Evie's fridge door is home to various post its, three weird magnets, and the loving “P1” sign. Evie's soft, steady hum rings out through their dorm without fail.

Well, without fail until a few weeks ago when Evie's hum sputters from a constant thrum to an erratic buzz. Jeremy didn't think it was a problem because Evie was still refrigerating and a good smack usually set the it back on track for a few hours, but when the smacking stopped working, he just gets used to the weird buzzing beat. At one point, Michael says he could probably make a sick song from the beats, but before he can help Michael record Evie, Evie makes a final, desperate, pathetic sounding thunk.

The next day, Evie is nothing more than a lukewarm cupboard filled with equally lukewarm soda.

Which is how they end up at a Target that weekend, staring down at the overwhelming magnitude of the kitchen appliances section. Jeremy, in the face of an entire aisle of minifridges, feels uneasy. Out of depth. Intimidated. Out of everything he's faced in his life, right now, slowly walking past fridges that look cooler than he is, this feels like war. Which it absolutely isn't but the connotations of buying a fridge seem monumental at the moment. This is a life milestone. Buying a fridge.

Jeremy says none of this. Instead, he looks at a fridge, turns to Michael, and very intelligently says, "Fridge."

"Fuck, man," Michael nods sagely, placing a hand on Jeremy's shoulder.  "They sure do."

They indulge in maybe three seconds of solemn eye contact before Michael breaks, his poker face splitting into a smile before turning into straight up cackles.

"Shut uuuup," Jeremy rolls his eyes, trying to shove Michael but he slings an arm around his shoulder, still snickering.

"Nah, dude. Do you have like, any other wise words to tell me?"

"Yeah, two. 'Fuck' and 'off'." Jeremy sticks his tongue out because he's like five, whatever. "Look at the fridges, dude. We have to pick a fridge."

"We have to pick a fridge," Michael repeats, but his words have a rhythm to it. Jeremy's seen this happen enough to know what'll happen next.  "We have to. Have to pick a fridge," Michael says, bobbing his head to the beat he's making. Michael can turn anything into a jingle. Jeremy once read him the ingredient list on a box of Nerds and he turned it into a theme song. Dextrose, sugar, malic aaaaaacid, corn, corn, corn syrup. It was awesome. It was catchy. It was stuck in Jeremy's head for days. "Gotta pick a fridge. A fridge. A fridge." Michael croons, turning his gaze to Jeremy. "Because we are---take it away, Jer."

"Uhhhh," Jeremy thinks, hoping real hard that he doesn't just say 'fridge' again. "Fffff--" he says. Fuck. Salvage the situation. "Fffffridgehunters. We are Fridgehunters."

"Oh, shit, that sounds rad.” Michael grins, high fiving Jeremy. “Fridgehunters. Hunting for a fridge.”

For the lack of anything better to do, Jeremy adds some harmony. “Hunting for a fridge,” he sings before realizing they do have something better to be doing. “Dude, we can’t be singing about hunting for a fridge if we aren’t even looking at the fridges.”

“Compelling point,” Michael says valiantly. “But consider that, for some reason, I feel really intimidated by all these fridges.”

“Oh, thank fuck. Me too.” Jeremy sighs in relief. “Inheriting fridges is one thing but like, getting one? Choosing one? We’re going to die here.”

“No. No we won’t,” Michael says, suddenly determined. He lets go of Jeremy and stomps to a nearby fridge. “Come on, Jeremy. Let’s fucking do this. For Evie.”

They both look at the fridge. Jeremy reads the, what, the fridge stats (?) printed on the little card on the door. “These sure are words.”

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p’ and offers nothing more. They’re going to die here.

Jeremy belatedly realizes this all is ridiculous, but this is never a surprise. He'd be more worried the day he and Michael sit down and do something sensible and serious. Jeremy says, "We should've brought somebody else with us. An adult."

"We are adults," Michael winces. Yeah, he knows. Terrifying concept.

"An adult-ier adult," Jeremy explains, before he backtracks and realizes that they know nobody who fits that criteria at all. "Or just anybody who'd be helpful. We should've brought Rich."

"That would be entertaining, but not helpful." Michael opens a nearby fridge for no apparent reason, seeing as he’s looking at Jeremy and not the fridge. "Though, he'd make a great backup singer for the Fridgehunters theme. Have you heard him beatbox?"

"I mean, I've heard him choke on milk, so close enough." Jeremy looks into the fridge. It's got some heavy compartment stuff going on in there. Advanced shit. Too advanced, so Jeremy closes the fridge.

"We could've brought PJ. She seems like she'd know how to...fridge."

"Wrong," Michael opens the fridge again. "You see what I'm doing here? The weird nervous opening and closing this fridge thing?"

"Yeah?"

"PJ would open every single fridge in this aisle. And she'd do it out of glee," he shuts the fridge for emphasis. "Face it, man. Nobody's got it together. Collectively, I figure we could like, Voltron our way into becoming a singular functional human, but individually?" Michael pulls open the fridge door with a flourish. "Nah."

Jeremy nods, until he feels a literal lightbulb go off in his head. "Jake."

"Oh, fuck. Yeah. Yeah, absolutely,” Michael takes Jeremy by the shoulders. “We should've brought Jake. God, we're idiots. Jake could buy a fridge. Jake looks like he could put together IKEA furniture correctly."

"He's been doing that thing with the Rubik's cube." Jeremy says, moving him and Michael to a different part of the aisle, one with simpler looking fridges, hopefully.

"What, solving it?"

"Yeah."

"Who the fuck actually solves it?"

"Jake. He caught me staring and explained, like, algorithms."

"Burn the witch." He hears Michael mutter as they walk. “Dude, is it just me or are these fridges like--”

“Needlessly complicated? Totally,” Jeremy says. Thankfully, it seems like the fridges are getting more and more reasonable. “Evie was a good, cold cube. Probably from eighties, but still straightforward.”

“No nonsense whatsoev---FUCK.” Michael yells directly in his ear.

“Agh, holy shit, what?” He whips his head to Michael. Michael who is pointing at a fridge like it committed a murder right in front of him, but when Jeremy sees it, he understand. “No way.”

“Yes way.” Michael smiles, walking over to open the fridge. “Jeremy,” he says. “Same fridge.”

“Same fridge,” he murmurs in disbelief, looking at a fridge that was pretty much exactly Evie sans the bit where he hopes it’ll work. What are the goddamn odds. “So like. Evangeline the second?”

“You read my mind, man,” Michael crouches down to look inside the fridge. “But uh. Evie the second who is also the P1 fridge. So P1 the second? Player one two? Twelve?”

Jeremy crouches down due to peer pressure caused by literally one person and shrugs, “Don’t make us do numbers, Michael.”

“Fair enough,” Michael nudges Jeremy and raises a fist. “The Fridgehunters have a fridge.”

He laughs, solemnly tapping his own to Michael’s before saying, “I mean, technically, we haven’t bought it yet.”

“You’re ruining the moment.”

“We probably need to go find somebody and---”

“The moment, Jeremiah.”

“Reality, Michaelmiah.”

They do end up finding an employee, or rather an employee finds Michael mid-tackle and they try to make themselves presentable in under three seconds, scrambling from the floor and standing up. Because they’re adults. Who are going to get this fridge right here.

We wanna get this fridge, Jeremy thinks. What Jeremy ends up saying to the employee, “Uh, fridge.”

To his left, he hears Michael do a terrible job at holding in laughter, and Jeremy jabs him in the side with his elbow.

Just another day in the life.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 1

(Banner made by the loveliest @harry-nofookingway-styles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

In which Melody is reacquainted with an old classmate named Harry, and must keep afloat in the violent, criminal lifestyles of an underground boxer.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: Hello!! This is the first chapter, obviously. I hope you guys are as excited as I am. I have a whirlwind of adventures in store for these two and for all of you! I’d love to hear the thoughts you had while reading, your predictions, what you think of the characters, etc. Any feedback is always welcome. :) Enjoy!!

Melody hadn't been to the sketchy side of the city since her very first semester of college, when she was just wandering and ended up passing by a couple of men with guns tucked into the waistbands of their pants. That was why she felt so apprehensive when the address Cooper asked her to meet him at was in the center of that part of town. She almost didn't show up.

When she was asked out, Melody assumed the date would be out to dinner, or even to the movies, like a normal date. But there was no movie theater where she was headed, and nine o'clock at night seemed a bit late for dinner. Cooper had texted her to "dress casual" along with the mysterious address. When she tried to search the place on Google, nothing had come up except for an abandoned warehouse. She made sure a couple of friends knew where she was going before she left her flat.

The weird feeling in her gut didn't disappear until Melody turned onto the street she was given. There were no cars, but there were crowds of people lining the sidewalks and a constant hum of chatter. It smelled distantly of smoke and garbage.

"I thought you might not come."

Melody gasped at the sound of Cooper's voice. She turned her head to find him standing beside her with a sheepish smile.

"I didn't think about how creepy it was to just give you an address on this side of town with no context. I was just trying to be unpredictable," he explained, shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray hoodie. "You look nice."

Melody glanced down at her outfit. She was only wearing leggings and a new t-shirt, which was hidden beneath her jacket. She looked back up at Cooper with a raised eyebrow. "Thanks."

"I already paid for us to get in." Cooper gestured with his head for Melody to follow him and led her across the street, where a building that looked very much like an abandoned warehouse was being fed with the lines of people. Edges of the metallic walls were rusted and a few of the high-set windows were nothing but jagged shards of glass. Cooper skipped the queue and approached a burly-looking bouncer, who was wearing a pair of sunglasses despite the sun setting behind him.

"Woah, where do you think you're going?" the man challenged, stepping menacingly toward the two of them.

Cooper frowned and glanced back at Melody briefly.

"I already paid," Cooper said, pulling a hand from his hoodie to flash the blue stamp on his skin.

"That's great, kid. What about her?" The bouncer nodded his head toward Melody and she glanced at the entrance to this mysterious place. A woman wearing enormous hoop earrings and too much eyeliner was standing impatiently at the door with a giant stack of money in her hands. Melody assumed she collected the entrance fees. She snapped her bubblegum as she waited for the bouncer, who had the hand-stamp, to allow the next person inside. Melody still had no clue what she was doing here.

"I already paid for her, too," Cooper claimed, looking between the bouncer and the woman collecting money. "I just paid for her, like, two minutes ago. I gave you the money and said I was waiting for someone."

The security guard glanced over at the woman and she raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I don't remember that. No one gets in for free, honey. Not unless you're sleeping with one of the boys, and I doubt that." She flashed a grin at her own joke.

"But it wouldn't be for free. I already—" Cooper cut himself off and sighed frustratedly. "You know what? Here. Just take another fifteen dollars." He handed over a few bills and the bouncer looked at Melody expectantly.

"Oh, right." She pulled her hand from her hoodie and held it out for a stamp before the bouncer opened the door for the two of them. The crowds behind them groaned as they cut the queue.

"Sorry about that," Cooper grumbled, letting her pass in front of him to head inside. The door shut behind them, and Melody found herself in a dim hallway, lit only by a single yellow lightbulb. The walls and ceiling were built of steel, and another door was set into the end of the hall. It smelled of sweat and metal. "I always forget what these people are like."

"Where are we?" Melody asked, and she couldn't help the nerves that seeped into her voice. Cooper led her to the other door and opened it for her. A wave of voices rushed through the open door as she stepped through it, and she found herself in the midst of the warehouse.

As Cooper led Melody up a short set of steps, she found that it was just one large, rectangular room, complete with steel walls and a haphazard, bowing roof. There were crowds of people, even more than were outside. Next to the door where they had just entered, back down the steps, a long wooden bar ran along the wall, and at the other end of the bar was an open doorway that led into darkness. Lining the other three walls were blue seats that rose up at an angle, like in an arena. In the center of the room was a square ring, a few feet off the floor, the perimeter strung with ropes.

"What are we doing here?" Melody inquired, glancing around. There were hoards of people shouting at bartenders, who whipped around behind the bar, pouring drinks and collecting money. "What is this, wrestling?"

"Boxing, actually," Cooper corrected. He had the faintest of smiles on his face as he looked around the room, as though the place comforted him in some way.

"Oh," was all that Melody said in reply. This wasn't at all in her frame of interests. She thought about just making a run for it as Cooper began walking toward the seats. But she was already here, and if something interesting happened, it might finally spark her writing inspiration.

Cooper stopped and turned when he noticed that she wasn't following him, waiting patiently, if not slightly nervous. Melody caught up with him, and in a few minutes they had seats on the left side of the bar, halfway up the section. It was a miracle that they found a place to sit.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Cooper asked after a silent minute. He pushed himself up from his chair and peered down at her.

"I'm okay, thanks," Melody responded. She could see the nervous bob of his throat as he gulped and nodded, turning away from her to make his way to the bar. He shook out his clammy hands as he walked.

The makeshift arena was overcrowded by now, with people spilling out into the standing floor area beside the bar. All around her, she heard excited chatter. Down at the bottom of her seating section, right beside the empty ring, were the beginnings of a scuffle between two burly, bearded men. Over the rest of the noise, Melody could here their rumbling yells. She watched as one of the men threw a full cup of beer at the other and then fists began to fly. It was just then that Cooper reappeared, and she made the rash decision to make a quick exit.

"I have to use the bathroom," she lied, standing at the same moment that her date plopped down in the seat beside her. The contents of Cooper's plastic cup nearly sloshed over the rim as he whipped his head up to look at her.

"Oh, do you need me to—"

"No, I think I can find it on my own," she assured him. "Thanks, though."

Melody found herself rolling her eyes when she turned her back, after he flashed her a set of wide, panicky eyes. She appreciated the effort—the attempt at spontaneity (she had surely never been to a boxing match for a date) and the schoolboyish nerves—but she didn't want to have to soothe a boy and make him feel comfortable. She wanted something almost effortless, as cliché as it sounded. She wanted someone with whom she could have a flowing conversation, someone who kept her interest and could still surprise her without trying too hard. She wanted something so powerful that it could weave into a story all on it's own.

"Could you tell me where the bathroom is?" Melody asked as she approached a bartender. Did they even have a bathroom at places like this? Maybe she could find another exit. One that wasn't so obviously placed on its own. She could feel Cooper's gaze on her, even from across the room. The woman behind the bar looked her up and down before pointing toward the open doorway at the end of the bar.

"Through there. All the way to the back on the left."

Melody turned and walked away without another word. She didn't like it here. She didn't like the people or their attitudes or the environment.

After skirting around the bar and a couple of already-drunken spectators, Melody found a long, narrow hallway. Unlike the dim entrance, this area of the building was lit with naked, fluorescent bulbs. It was just as empty, though. The walls were still the same cold gray metal, but there were doors set into the metal, with paper placards labeling each room in scribbled black marker. Her fingers grazed the closest paper as she squinted to read the messy scrawl.

Goodman

That was all it said. No first name, no other information. Melody frowned and stepped away from the door, continuing slowly down the corridor. Her eyes scanned the placards, a few of which boasted various surnames, and a couple which simply supplied "closet."

Melody was startled as a door toward the end of the hall flew open, and she winced at the sound of metal slamming against metal.

"You still have another five minutes before—"

"Shut up."

A man appeared in the narrow corridor, wearing nothing but a loose pair of blue gym shorts, his skin inked in black. Melody watched as he stalked down the hall, winding his long hair up at the back of his head and tying it—forcefully, she noticed. His eyes were trained on the ground. Another man, a bit shorter and fully-clothed with a neater haircut, hurried out of the open door behind the first man and struggled to keep up with him. Melody paused before pressing her back to the wall before she was plowed over. In his distracted hurry, the half-naked man brushed past her, just barely nicking her shoulder with his raised elbow. He and his follower were at the end of the corridor and entering into the small arena before she could take another breath.

After a brief moment, Melody spun her head around. Sure enough, at the very end of the hallway was another door, this one labeled quite clearly with "exit." She didn't continue on, though. Not because she had thought better of ditching Cooper or for any similar reason, but because she knew the man that had breezed past her. She couldn't remember how she knew him or how long ago they had met, but there was something so eerily familiar about him that she couldn't find it in herself to just leave. She was intrigued.

She steeled herself enough to creep back into the main room, where people were just beginning to take notice of the shirtless man now weaving his way through their midst. The shorter man following him was trying to keep up, shouldering against the crowd as it closed in around him. Melody began a path back toward where Cooper was. She couldn't see him over the heads of attentive spectators, now swamping the perimeter of the square ring in the center of the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began an older man dressed in all black who stood in the corner of the raised ring. His voice was projected through invisible speakers somewhere in the room, and ricocheted off of the metal walls. He looked confused as he watched the shirtless man climb up beside him, parting the ropes to get onto the platform. He continued his announcement, nevertheless. "Our first fighter, Mr. Harry Styles."

Melody paused where she stood and assessed the boxer—Harry—as he hopped back and forth on his bare feet, shaking out his tattooed arms. She could barely see him through the mass of heads blocking her vision, but as he twisted around, she caught a clear view of his front. She could see the resemblance, the distantly familiar structure of his face, and she knew exactly who he was.

Chapter 2

[anoldwound]

Ficlet Requests #3

Song: Eat Yourself Fandom: Iron Man Pairing: None Word Count: 315 Rating: PG for dark themes Requested by: airspaniel Tony Stark was tired. The wet grass squished beneath his leather shoes, and the rain dripped down his face in place of tears as he held the edge of the coffin between his fingers. He was shivering. He shook his hair out of his eyes and continued on, feeling Rhodey's gaze upon him. He didn't bother looking back, because what was the point? He was sick of everyone's pitying looks. The coffin was lowered gently into the back of the hearse. Thunder rumbled in the sky, reverberating so loudly Tony could feel it in his chest. Someone closed the door shut and locked it. “Tony,” said Rhodey, sidling up next to him. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Tony.” “What?” he mumbled, still not looking. “You can't blame yourself.” Tony didn't say anything for a few moments, then spat, “Bullshit.” He jerked his arm away and strode to the limo that was waiting for him across the street. He heard Rhodey calling after him, but he didn't look back. All he could see, all he could feel, was the scene swirling before him over and over again – some battle, some fight, he couldn't even remember who it was he was fighting in the first place – and then, her, Pepper, rushing into the foray – she didn't know – she was just coming to check on him, to see what was going on – a blast of light, and she... she wasn't moving. He was shaking all over now, even though he was tucked inside the warm limo. His teeth chattered and he wrapped his arms around himself. “Not his fault”? What a crock of shit. “Mr. Stark?” The driver was twisted in his seat, facing him. “Just go.” Tony fell back. The rain hit the window like bullets as they pulled slowly away. Song: Attack of the Ghost Riders Fandom: The Big Bang Theory Pairing: None Word Count: 258 Rating: PG-13 for slight sexual content. Requested by: herverylowness “Holy dear mother of God, Howard, where the hell did you take us?!” Leonard, Sheldon, Raj, and Howard were standing in the middle of – well, at least what looked like – some kind of furry strip club. “Seriously. Dude,” said Raj, looking in horror as a giraffe shook off its bikini top. “And since when do giraffes wear bathing suits?” “C'mon, guys! You all need to explore your horizons a little bit,” said Howard, winking and pointing at a passing a scantily dressed cat, who purred demurely. “Uh... no, we don't,” said Leonard. “Not here, at least.” “You said you were going to the comic book store,” Sheldon said accusingly to Leonard. “I never would have invited myself along if I had known that this is where were going.” “I guess I should have been honest,” said Leonard through gritted teeth. “Howard, this is ridiculous. We're leaving.” “Hey, leave if you want to,” said Howard. “But you're missing out. I had the most erotic humping session last week with a little lady dressed as a sexy lion.” “Did she keep the costume on the entire time?” Raj asked. “Of course! That's part of the experience,” said Howard. “Why?” “Are you sure it wasn't actually a man?” Howard suddenly looked horrified. “Oh, God. That would explain the... you know, you guys are right; we should leave RIGHT NOW.” He sprinted out the door, the rest of the group on his heels. Song: Christmas Wrapping Fandom: Glee Pairing: Finn/Kurt Word Count: 459 Rating: PG-13 for slight sexual content. Requested by: overlimits Finn was having a terrible time trying to decide what to get Kurt for Christmas. He knew Kurt liked nice clothes and expensive skin cleansers, but these weren't exactly his areas of expertise, and he couldn't even pronounce most of the high fashion designer's names. Plus he only had about twenty bucks to spend. He looked through the racks at the department store, desperately trying to find something, anything, for under twenty dollars. He even looked at the charms for charm bracelets at the jewelry counter (sixty bucks for a tiny charm? It was highway robbery!). Finally, he did manage to find something – a short, thin scarf that was on clearance for $19.99. He wasn't sure that Kurt would like it, though. It felt like he could tear it in half easily, and Kurt didn't like cheap clothes. Finn threw the scarf in frustration, but it just fluttered in the air and fell softly to the floor. He stomped out of the store, muttering to himself. The next day, Finn decided to look online for some good deals. He browsed through site after site after site, but couldn't find anything he thought would be good enough. He had just started dating Kurt a month ago, and he wanted to do something to impress him, something that would knock his socks off. But it was proving to be a lot more difficult than he'd thought it would be, especially since Kurt wouldn't tell him what the hell he wanted. “Anything you'd give me, I'd be happy with,” Kurt had said, but Finn knew that had to be bullshit, based on his experience with girls (not that Kurt was a girl, but you know). He remembered the time he bought Quinn a ceramic duck for her birthday and she had glared at him so intensely he was sure she had left a burn somewhere on his forehead. So, it had to be perfect. The perfect gift. But what the hell was the perfect gift for Kurt? Finn gave up on his internet search and collapsed onto his bed, thinking. What did Kurt want, what did Kurt want... Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. It was perfect! And it wouldn't cost him a dime! --- “Was that a good enough Christmas present?” Kurt turned his head and looked at him. “Honestly?” Finn nodded. “Holy shit, Finn. Holy. Shit.” Finn laughed and rustled Kurt's hair. “I thought you might like it.” Kurt laughed as well, and stroked Finn's bare chest. “I think that may have been moving too fast, considering we've only been dating a few months, but I'm definitely not complaining. Wow.” Finn smirked. Maybe he wasn't so bad at giving presents after all. Song: Everything You Want Fandom: Boardwalk Empire Pairing: unrequited Maragaret/Van Alden; Margaret/Nucky Word Count: 381 Rating: PG for Van Alden creepiness. Requested by: sidonay Mrs. Margaret Schroeder. Van Alden stared at the big board next to his desk that mapped out Nucky Thompson's associates and relationships. Margaret Schroeder's photo was directly beneath Thompson's, a thin red line connecting the two of them. Label: Romantic Interest. He had taken the picture himself, last Saturday on the boardwalk. He had seen them walking together, when Thompson decided to duck into a shop to get  something. She had patiently waited for him outside, gazing out at the ocean. Her hat (a new hat, that Thompson had probably purchased for her) was poised perfectly atop her head. Van Alden stayed inside the phone booth as he snapped her photo. At first she didn't appear to have noticed him, but he could have swore she glanced his way momentarily. Those damn flashes. Hardly discreet. He looked at the photo now. She was only a vague blur, but somehow still managed to exude some... radiance, of some kind. Her profile was practically glowing. Thompson had emerged from the shop, carrying a box of saltwater taffy, which he had then presented to her. Mrs. Margaret Schroeder smiled and took the box, and they had continued on their way. Van Alden had set the camera on the floor of the booth, and pressed his fists up against the glass. Van Alden carefully took the photo down from the board. He studied it for several moments, then calmly brought it to his desk. He laid it down, smoothed it out. He picked it up again, and held it to his cheek. He felt his hand clench around it, and almost crumpled it, but he regained control of himself and put the photo in a desk drawer, which he then proceeded to lock. He looked up at the board again, this time at Nucky Thompson's photo, which was a clipping from a newspaper. He was smiling a sleazy, corrupt politician's smile, and was waving at an unseen crowd. Van Alden furrowed his brows. He yanked the picture off the board and violently tore it to pieces, stomping on the remains, clomp clomp, clomp, until it was entirely dirtied and destroyed. He tossed the pieces into the trash, then sat down at his desk. His fingers caressed the handle of the drawer containing Margaret Schroeder's photo. Song: Take It Or Leave It Fandom: Psych Pairing: Shawn/Lassiter Word Count: 686 Rating: PG-13 for slight sexual content. Requested by: beggar_always “LASSIE!” Lassiter watched in horror as Spencer ran towards the car, arms flailing wildly in the air, as two men with guns chased him down. “Spencer!” Lassiter spun the car 180 degrees, and Spencer jumped in through the open window, as the two men started firing. Lassiter whipped out his own gun and fired back as he peeled away at breakneck speed. “What the hell is going on?!” he yelled, turning the car back around to chase after the armed men, who were now running in the opposite direction. “I go out to get some lunch and you're being chased by two madmen?!” “It's a long, tedious story, so let's save it for my autobiography, okay?” Spencer was crouched underneath the dashboard, arms covering his head. “You tell me what's going on right now.” “Me and Gus were on a case, all right? And it got... sticky.” Lassiter rolled his eyes and put on his police siren. Pedestrians jumped out of the way as he pursued the criminals through an open park. “Ow! Could you maybe drive more smoothly, Lassie?” Spencer rubbed the back of his head. “Why don't you just shut the hell up!” For God's sake, he couldn't leave him alone for two minutes before he was getting into some kind of dangerous shenanigans. The two men were heading down the hill. Lassiter brought the car to a screeching halt (eliciting more protests from Spencer) and climbed out, firing his gun. He missed. The perpetrators dashed across the street and out of sight. Lassiter swore and stomped his foot. “Spencer, get out of the car!” He did, still rubbing the back of his head. “Did you get them, Lassie?” “No, I did not get them. Who are those two and why in God's name were they trying to kill you?” “They're drug dealers.” “WHAT?!” “Our client assured us that they weren't dangerous!  She just – oh, what does it matter?” “What does it matter? Are you serious? The next time a case like that comes up, you call for back-up, you tell somebody. You tell me. You could have died,you stupid son of a bitch!” “Hey! Don't talk about my mom that way!” “God, do you understand anything?” “Listen, would you cut it out, already? I screwed up! I admit it! Can we please go back now?” Lassiter took a few steps closer, and glared daggers at him. “This is not a game.” “Okay, enough with the lectures, huh? We just went through a life or death situation, Lassie. I think we should celebrate the fact that the both of us are still alive.” “They were chasing you, not me.” “Regardless. I think we should... go enjoy ourselves for a bit.” Lassiter froze. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. We are not doing that whole song and dance again. No.” “Why not? You can't deny the high levels of sexual tension that still --” “We agreed to never speak of that night ever again!” Lassiter cried. “It never happened! And it will never happen again! Do you understand me?” “How can it never happen again if it never happened in the first place?” Lassiter felt his fist clench, but he took a deep breath instead and said, “I am going back to the car. Get inside and I will take you down the station so you can fill out a report.” Spencer suddenly looked frightened. “No! Please! Not paperwork! Anything but paperwork! Wouldn't you rather go on an erotic adventure than do silly old paperwork?” He paused, then shook his head. “No.” “Ah! You were considering it!” “I was not!” “Yes you were! C'mon, Lassie, let's go back to my apartment and wrestle underneath the sheets.” With that, Spencer merrily climbed into the passenger's seat. “Let's do this thing! Woo!” Lassiter sighed heavily, then got into the driver's side.   “Where exactly is it that you live, again?”

[joe-whiteside]

post 4 - insomniac

1

It was August when it happened. The 8th or 9th, I don’t remember. I had just gotten through with the day’s overload of work and was closing my computer to get ready to go home. I like to be ready early. I was glancing between the clock and the door, clock and the door, clock and the door. I could tell my meds were wearing off. My ADHD makes me jittery. The medicine worked fine, but only from morning to about 4:30, and here we were: 4:55. I was jittery. I started shaking my leg. I wasn’t nervous or anything, I just couldn’t sit still that day. Probably because I had a small breakfast and there wasn’t much to dissolve the Adderall in. 

It was 4:57 now. 

I couldn’t help but wonder why the clock seemed to move so slow when you’re looking at it, but when you’re working, it’s at a regular speed. This thought would have puzzled me even more if I hadn’t noticed the hand move again. 

4:58. 

I sat there just watching, waiting, shaking. My hands had the nerve to pick up the pen on my desk and start clicking the end. I knew this annoyed my coworkers so I usually tried my best not to but today, I couldn’t help it. It was just so relieving for some reason. 

4:59. 

“I swear, if that clock moves any slower, I’m going to lose my mind,” I thought. At least, I thought I thought it. There’s a chance I said it under my breath without even realizing that I had done it because, at that exact moment of thought, Chris (the guy in the cubicle next to mine) said,

“Me too, Kurt,” 

He sighed.

I remember once, while I was out drinking with some buddies, this woman came into the place dressed like a complete whore. I must have said something about her out loud because when the woman walked by, she gave me a dirty look. I didn’t mind. I was just out to have a beer anyway. I think it’s nice when people say what’s on their mind, though maybe not if they are without basic filters. (I speak of myself, chiefly.) I look back at the clock. It’s 11 seconds until 5. 

Now, nine. 

Six, 

four, 

two... 

finally. 

It’s time to go home.

2

I wasn’t particularly excited to go home that day, nor any other day for that matter. I haven’t got much at home but a bed, a cat, and some of my dad’s old jazz records that I put on from time to time. When he and my mom retired, they moved out West. Montana, I think. They have a large camper and their life right now is best described as an over-extended road trip. At least they’re happy. Anyway, a day before they left, my father came by the house with a box.

“Your mother isn’t a fan of jazz and we don’t have space on the Winnie. You want ‘em?”

“Sure, I’ll take them,” I said, knowing full-well he’d leave them with me no matter what I said. Good thing I like the classics.

It was a rather uneventful drive home that night, and good too because my meds were really coming down now.  I’ve been experimenting with micro-dosing of hallucinogens to help keep me focused even more throughout the day. Those were wearing off too. I was at the point where I’d start counting the lines on the road just to stay focused on driving but I’d always get distracted. And it’s not like it was a long ride home either, just ten minutes, with the traffic of course. But today was a Friday evening and the surrounding businesses all closed early. But not Schlafen Office Supplies. No, we’re open, nine to five, Monday through Friday, all but two days of the year. Christmas and Thanksgiving. And sometimes, it’s just Thanksgiving.

I pull into my driveway and rush inside. It was raining outside and I forgot my umbrella at the office. I unlock the door, greet Samuel, he’s my cat, and turn a few lights on in the house. I give Samuel his dinner and order some China King. Lo mein, an egg roll, two crab rangoons, a Dr. Pepper, and a fortune cookie. I have a page in my kitchen where I write down what I normally get from restaurants because many times, it takes me too long to decide. Then, I go to lie down for a nap and allow the doorbell or Samuel to wake me up. Whichever comes first, I guess. 

As I’m lying there, Sammy jumps up on my chest and I gently put him on the floor. He always seems to know when I don’t want him around. I lie down again. Two minutes later, he’s jumping up onto me again and this time he uses his claws to really ‘stick’ the landing; (I hate that pun). I push him off and he wanders away. I continue reclining and just as I am getting comfortable, Sammy is running from one end of the house to the other, over and over, because that’s what cats do and it would have been fine if he didn’t jump up on me a third time, again, sticking the landing. I stand up and he falls into the sofa and manages to rip the suede cushion covers on his way down.

“GAH! What the hell is wrong with you?!?”

The doorbell rings. I whip around and stub my toe on the coffee table as I mutter and open the door. I sigh.

“I’m sorry, how much do I owe you?”

I pay him the $11.59 he required and gave him a four dollar tip because he looked only sixteen or seventeen and I felt bad for him.

I shut the door and went to the table to eat. 

Damn, I forgot to ask for soy sauce.

As I’m eating, Sammy comes and starts rubbing up on my leg, signaling that he’s sorry. I picked him up and pet him with one hand and held my egg roll with chopsticks in the other.

3

That night after cleaning up dinner, I walked into the bathroom, flipped the switch, and realized the lightbulb had gone out. I didn’t have any extras, I just used the last one on the pineapple lamp my parents got me as a housewarming gift. 

I gotta buy more lightbulbs soon.

I took my evening meds, being sure I took only the prescribed dose, which was hard because I had a million things racing through mind and to make matters worse, my hands were shaking. Next, I took my evening eyedrops. It burned more than usual. After brushing my teeth and flipping the lightswitch (because habits), I went to bed.

4

Whenever I can’t sleep at night, I’ll often read. It relaxes me in a way I can’t exactly describe. That night, it was Through The Looking Glass by Lewis Caroll. I was reading through The New York Times Bestsellers for Classic Fiction list.

I was starting on chapter nine tonight when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but it was gone. I can’t put my finger on it. Just a movement. I went back to reading. I could hear my clock ticking, somewhat louder than before. When I looked over at its face, it seemed to be like water, with ripples and waves about, above the hands as if somebody filled the front of my clock with an ocean. Startled, I turn back to the book that was now warm in my hand. All of a sudden, I’m falling. I shut my eyes, afraid. 

When I finally gain strength to open them, my walls have become darker and my pineapple lamp has acquired an aura of warm-daylight glow. I look down at the book in my hands and see that nothing’s changed. Nothing except for... is it breathing? 

As it pulses in and out and as the words stretch beneath my fingertips, I panic. Hard. I throw the book across the room. In the meantime, my duvet has become an increasingly bold shade of red even though I knew it was blue. I fell against the pillows but I seemed to sink into them as if they were consuming me, no... melting me. 

I manage to pull myself together enough to get up and get a glass of water. Walking into the kitchen, Sammy brushes past my leg and in the pale, blue moonlight, I see a three-foot-tall Sammy sitting on the floor, licking his paws as his ears shoot little orbs of light and sausage above his head. I fill up my water glass telling myself it’s only a dream, praying to God it’s only a dream.

The glass breaks in my hand. 

I scream. Charging into the living room, I yell and stomp and jump and howl until, out of exhaustion, I pass out on the floor, exhausted, hitting my head on the coffee table on the way down.

5

Bright lights. 

White walls.

The cold smell of hand sanitizer.

I’m in a hospital bed hooked up to a dozen machines or so. After a few minutes, a short man in a lab coat and glasses walks in.

“Ah, you’ve come to. My name is Dr. Jefferson. Can you tell me where you are?”

“Ugh...it’s a hospital.” I groan. It hurts to speak.

“That’s right. Do you know your name, sir?”

“Yeah. Kurt. Kurt Osbourne.”

He writes something on his clipboard. 

“Well, it’s not quite as bad as we first thought Mr. Osbourne.”

“What’s not so bad?”

“I thought you might not remember.”

“Remember wha-ahh!” A sharp migraine hits. “Could you get me some water please?”

“Yes, Mr. Osbourne. In the meantime, there’s somebody here to see you.”

As if on cue, a tall, thin black woman in a lilac cardigan, yellow top, and blue jeans walks in.

“Hey, how ya feelin’?”

“Never better,” I hiss sarcastically. “Who are you?” 

“I’m your next-door neighbor Shauna Green. I moved in about a month ago.”

“Oh, I remember you.” It came out more rude than I meant it to. “What happened?”

“Well, it was around 1:30, 2 o’clock last night when I heard you. I had my windows open and you were yellin’ and screaming’ and carryin’ on like and I thought to myself, ‘That man is crazy. What is he doing yellin’ and carrying on like that? I got two kids to take care of.’ Pretty soon, I found myself, in a bathrobe, in front of your door. I was about to give you a piece of my mind when I realized you weren’t angry, you were...” she trailed and her eyes got big. “...you were something else.”

“Something else?”

“Scared, I guess. When I walked to the door, I heard you drop. And you got quiet. I called 911 and they sent over an ambulance. You’ve got a nasty gash on the back of your head there. Don’t touch it, honey, just know it’s there. They picked you up off the ground and I volunteered to stick around seeing as I was the only one who knew what had gone on.”

“Thank you,” I said dully. My head pained again. Through clenched teeth, I said, “Is that doctor back yet?”

“Why, yes I am.” he chimed, walking in as if we both knew he wasn’t listening.

Dr. Jefferson then handed me a glass of water a pain pill (which I was eternally grateful for) and he started his spiel.

“We found an alarmingly high amount of psychedelics in your bloodstream. Do you know anything about this?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Patient-doctor confidentiality applies within the law also.”

Glancing around, I say, “I only use ‘em to stay focused at work along with my Adderall. I have ADHD. I’m not an acidhead, I just do it for my concentration.”

A pause.

“How much did you find in my system?”

“Well, there was enough to make you think you could fly. And probably enough to make you try. Luckily, we don’t think you did.” He chuckled at this last statement. I resented him a little for it.

Thinking, I said, “Wait, I only take them in the morning before work. In microdoses,” I asserted. “How did they get so potent?”

“Our observations show an extremely high amount, if not all, was ingested through the eyes.”

“That’s impossible. Who uses LSD on their eyes?”

Then, it hit me. 

The lightbulb was out. I grabbed the first eye-dropper I felt. I’m such an idiot.

Just then, my face felt hot. I blushed and felt the most shame I’ve felt ever. In the moment, I was reminded of the time I went to the public pool with my family. I was a small kid so not everything always fit so well. While swimming, the knot on my shorts came undone and I hadn’t noticed. The inevitable happened when I went to dive off the diving board. I went head-first into the water. In the air, I was a swan. When I hit the water, my shorts came loose and slipped right off my little 12 year old body. I didn’t notice until I climbed up the ladder and exposed myself to a group of old women sunbathing.

Yeah, all that came back real quick.

Getting up, “I have to go. I have to get out of here.”

“Hold on there fella, you can’t leave yet,” Dr. Jefferson says, putting his remarkably large hand on my chest, holding me down.

“Let...me...go!” I say as I struggle with him to get out of the bed. I am rather weak.

“Nurses!” he calls.

Three large women come through the door. Two of them tie me to the bed with nylon straps while the third adds something to the IV.

That’s when the melting started again...

-joe whiteside