#eric a munch I’ll say that much

[songbirdmunson]

how one of the smuts I’m working on rn got me like

[fairyoftbz]

impossible love | j. changmin

🍞 pairing: tailor son!Changmin x baker!fem! reader 🍞 word count: 3.9k 🍞 genre: angst, fluff, sort of crush-to-lovers, Middle Ages!au 🍞 tw: swear words, jealousy 🍞 synopsis: your relationship with your sister has never been good, and you completely lose it when you see her flirt with your crush. 🍞 a/n: everytime I write for Changmin i have to tag you @sainthwngs 🤍🤍🤍 i hope you will enjoy this "small" work of him!! 🍞 requested: nope!

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“Y/N, darling! Make some more bread after serving the Gatsby family, please!” your mother exclaimed from outside the shop as you actively kneaded the dough at the back, wiping your hands on your off-white apron before offering a smile to your customers.

The stretch on your face immediately disappeared as a sight on the other side of the street caught your attention. Sweat rose to your face, and shivers erupted in your body, resulting in you almost dropping the two loaves of bread you had subconsciously grabbed for the middle-class family. They didn’t even spare you a glance as you messily placed their order in the jute bag the servant was holding out to you, hands shaky as thoughts clouded your brain.

The woman threw a few crowns on the wooden counter with disdain before walking away, the servant hastily grabbing the bag and the son’s hand as the family walked out. You leaned your elbows on the counter and rested your hands against your forehead, biting your lower lip to prevent your tears from spilling out as your heart started hurting.

The tailor’s son Changmin was leaning against the shop doorway, a playful smirk painted on his face as he talked to your sister. While the man was completely oblivious of your feelings, your sister took the advantage of it. Much to your dismay, she knew that you liked him.

You didn’t want her to know at first, but you were a little too obvious of your attraction for the man when you stammered as you talked to him. He was really handsome, all the women wanted to marry their daughters to him, but he wasn’t interested at all. Changmin was nice to you, cracking a few polite jokes when he came to the bakery to buy some bread for his mother, making you feel like you could potentially have your chances with him. But you were wrong, oh so wrong. So naive and innocent to think that your sister wouldn’t seize the opportunity to plant you a knife in the back at this marvellous occasion.

You were trembling in rage as they were clearly flirting, and there was nothing more infuriating at the moment. You scoffed when she had the audacity to quickly turned around to check if you were in the shop, purposefully leaning closer to him with the same seducing smile she offered to every single of her conquests.

The relationship between you and your sister had always been difficult, her constantly accusing you to be your parents’ favourite child since you were born, and the time didn’t help at all. Many fights broke between you two for various reasons, but the most recurrent ones were about money. You were the most hard-working child, spending days and nights at the bakery to help your parents and make everything ready for each following day. Your sister, on the other hand, was busy roaming the streets, flirting and spending all the money you and your parents had given up hours of sleep to earn it in alcohol or street bets. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw money in the clutch bag your grandmother sewed for your 18th birthday a few years ago, one of the many items your sister had the bad habit of stealing.

Anger boiled through your veins, letting the tears spill out of your eyes in rage. Stomping your ankle boots on the floor, you almost tripped on the pans of your dress as you went in the back office, slamming your fists on the table before crouching down while letting all the sorrow in your body come out in choked sobs. The smell of freshly baked bread gave you a small wave of warmth and comfort as you desperately tried to get this image of Changmin and your sister swooning over him out of your head, but it was to no avail.

And again, she had won. She was prettier, more confident than you, and there was nothing you could do against it. No matter how hard you fought, she’d always have the upper hand and take the slightest opportunity to ruin and humiliate you.

You don’t know how you found it, but you managed to gather some strength and get back to work as if nothing had happened. You were a bundle of nerves, kneading the dough angrily, imagining that it was your sister’s face instead of a pile of flour mixed with milk and eggs. Since you were the only bakery in town, you didn’t necessarily need to be nice, but you didn’t want any rumours to start about you. Some people got twisted brains and were ready to say some blatant lies to hear gossip and witness street drama.

Once you closed the bakery from inside, you walked upstairs and locked yourself in your bedroom without sparing your parents a glance. They asked you if you wanted to eat, but you just paid no attention to them, slamming the heavy wooden door behind you as an answer.

Without freshening up or eating, you drew the curtains and went to bed, head facing the wall. A few choked sobs escaped your pursed lips as you tried to control your emotions, but it was to no avail. You cried a major part of the night, your body fuelling with rage again when you heard your sister walking through the main door, shutting it like it was the middle of the afternoon, visibly drunk and in desperate need of attention. You almost went crazy when she stopped at your door and snickered, loving the way you had reacted to her provocations the same afternoon.

Chest heaving up and down heavily, you clutched your teeth to control your anger, not wanting to give her the satisfaction to get what she wanted. You heard your father scolding her for coming home so late and being so loud, and she immediately changed her tone, apologising to your dad profusely before going into your room. Your dad tried opening your door, but it was locked, whispering a few sweet words in case you weren’t asleep.

When you woke up a few hours later, the sun still hadn’t risen, but it was time for you to go to work. You felt sick to the stomach and dizzy, your lack of sleep and your self-inflicted fast from yesterday were not helping you to feel any better.

“Y/N, dear, come and eat something,” your father said as you got out of your bedroom, ready to start your day. His face saddened when he saw your tired state, resting a kind-hearted hand on your shoulder. You offered him a brief smile before shaking your head.

“I’ll eat some bread downstairs, don’t worry about me,” you mumbled, eyes flickering as you just wanted to go back to bed.

“Promise?” he said, raising his forefinger towards you. You nodded and offered him a tired smile before exiting your home.

Since you promised your father, you half-heartedly munched on some bread, watching the closed tailor shop in disgust. Your brain made you imagining again Changmin and your sister flirting together, your teeth angrily ripping apart a piece of bread from the small loaf.

“Woah, easy there Y/N, who came in your dreams and turned you into a beast? What’s gotten you so angry?” a deep voice got you out of your trans, mouth filled with bread as you noticed Eric, your childhood friend but also the farmer, holding a wooden crate filled with all the ingredients you needed to make bread.

“Sorry Eric, it’s just my sister again. Thank you for all of this,” you said as you walked around the counter and guided him in your workplace, putting everything in its place. “Your relationship between you two will never get better, will it?” Eric sighed while helping you in your task, only to see you half-shrug as an answer. “As long as she won’t behave, no, nothing will change. But it’s better like that, it’d be weird to have her being nice to me,” you said, and Eric shook his head. “I saw murder in your eyes when I arrived, I highly doubt it’s better like that,” he smirked, and you sullenly chuckled through your nose, walking with him outside the bakery, where his horses and his dog were waiting for him.

Eric’s hand landed on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing the edge of your jaw. His friendly gesture helped your muscles to relax, offering a small smile as a thank you, paying his products by sliding a few crowns in his pouch.

“Hey! That’s way too much, you’re not buying me a donkey! No please Y/N, take it back,” he said as he gave you back half of the coins you gave him, but you shook your head. “Take it as my way to thank you for being there for me since day one,” you sadly said, wrapping your hand around his to close his palm and pushed it back towards his pouch. “I don’t need your money to prove that you are my friend, I love you for what you are,” you rolled your eyes at his words and petted his dog’s head, who happily yapped at the display of affection.

You waved at him with a tired smile as he rode his horse further into the village, going back into the bakery once he was out of sight. This little encounter with your childhood best friend helped to clear your mind, reducing your anger close to zero. Of course, it was still there, but you will manage to tame it down for a moment.

However, this peaceful moment got interrupted when the bakery door creaked open, head peeking from your workplace, hands kneading the dough. Your heart skipped a bit out of anger as you rubbed your hands together to get rid of the flour before going behind the counter.

“If you’re looking for my sister, she’s still sleeping,” you spat as you stared at Changmin, who was surprised by your aggressiveness. “Well good morning to you too, Y/N,” he said, and you huffed, your hands gripping the edge of the wooden counter. “Well hello Changmin, welcome to the bakery. What can I serve you today?” you imitated the fake nice, high-pitched tone and body movements of your sister, your face falling back to neutral a few seconds later.

The tailor’s son was completely taken aback by your actions, not expecting this type of behaviour from you, who had always been sweet and helpful to him and his family. You placed the loaf of bread he usually asks for on the counter between the two of you, Changmin not moving an inch, still gazing at you with questioning eyes. His gaze fixated on you, and he was surprised when you didn’t blush and look away like you used to, your orbs boring into his with boredom.

“Anything else?” you dryly asked, and Changmin shook his head, extending a few crowns towards you. When you were to grab it, his other hand seized your wrist, your eyes widening. “What’s gotten you today? You didn’t look this mad when the farmer came here before me,” he said, and you raised your eyebrows. “Now you’re spying on me? Is everything alright in your head?” you frowned and freed your wrist from his grip, taking the crowns before turning your back to him. “It was hard for anyone to miss your little flirty moment in the street,” he bitterly snickered, and you scoffed loudly, feeling the anger boil back into your veins. All the hard work Eric had put into calming you just flew out the window in a millisecond.

You turned around to face the tailor’s son, your head shaking side to side at the boldness of his remarks. Changmin looked kind of angry, but it was nothing compared to your fury when you slammed your palms against the counter.

“The fucking cheek of it! You dare to accuse me of flirting in the street with my childhood best friend, when you and my sister were the ones making a spectacle of yourselves just yesterday, swooning and courting her like Romeo and Juliet!” you spat at him, feeling the tears rise in your throat. You swallowed them, as well as your pride, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you hurt by his words. Moreover, you never knew when your sister could appear, and you were not giving her the opportunity to humiliate you again in front of him.

“What on Earth are you talking about? I am not courting your sister!” he retorted, eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t try to act all innocent, it’s not gonna work with me, I saw yours and my sister’s little game. Don’t take me for a fool Changmin,” you said through gritted teeth and went back to your workplace, kneading the dough as a way to reduce your anger.

Once the front door closed, you fell onto your knees, tears flooding your cheeks. You felt so remorseful for talking to him that way, you were never this impolite and aggressive, but your anger spoke before your reason and values. But at least something was clear, your chances with him were reduced to zero. With the way you behaved this morning, there was no way for you to win against your sister. It’s not as if you had the slightest chance, but it’s always good to keep dreaming.

Later in the day, your mother asked you to go and get her and your dad’s shoes repaired to the cobbler down the main street. You sent a death glare to your sister as you noticed her smoking tobacco in front of the tavern with the innkeeper, who was around the same age as your dad, sometimes extremely inappropriate and shameful for your family reputation. She discreetly raised her middle finger to you, and you ignored her, her fake laugh sending chills of anger down your spine as you walked past her.

Despite being the richest man in town, the cobbler had always been humble and sweet with you. Maybe the fact that he was Eric’s uncle helped, but you always appreciated going there. The dim atmosphere and the smell of the different types of leather always made you think of the bakery, feeling like you shared something for your respective jobs with the old man. He loved making and repairing shoes as much as you loved making bread, so you understood the other when you enthusiastically talked about your passions.

“How’s your sister doing? I heard she got a job at the flower shop,” the cobbler chuckled at your flabbergasted state as he finished his sentence, readjusting himself in his seat. “My sister is jobless, flirting with every man she encounters and spending all the family savings in street bets and alcohol, I highly doubt she hit upon a job by Mr. Kim,” you said as he handed you your mother’s pair of shoes, thanking him with a nod. “This is what she told me last week when she came. She had this wonderful pair of black heels that got stuck in the pavement,” you nodded, clicking your tongue as you found out that she stole something from you, again.

“Hey, hey,” the cobbler shook your shoulder across the counter, trying to prevent you from crying as he noticed the tears of exhaustion filling your eyes. You nodded your head as if to convince him and yourself that you won’t break, smiling through your glossy eyes. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll deliver your bread tomorrow as usual,” you mumbled and he offered you a reassuring smile, almost seeing some similar features with your best friend, knowing that you could always go back to the Sohn family if you weren’t doing well. “Take care, Y/N, take care,” he said as you walked through the door, waving at him before wiping your eyes and walk back to your home.

For once, your sister was at the bakery, swooning excitedly over a flower bouquet resting on the counter in a clay vase. Your eyes widened at the sight of the bouquet, your sister swatting your hand away as you were about to touch a yellow rose.

“Stop it! You’re gonna ruin it with your ugly fingers. Plus they’re not for you, so you’re not allowed to touch them,” she spat, and you walked past her, purposefully bumping your shoulder against hers, making her whine like a child and take a few steps back to take in the shock. Your mother was cooking lunch in the kitchen on the higher floor, and she asked you who was making this much noise downstairs.

“Your daughter, Mother,” you dryly said, clearing your throat before continuing. “She apparently received a bouquet from a special someone, and she feels the need to let the entire neighbourhood know about it, just like when she has a man over. Here are your and Father’s shoes,” you said as you placed them down next to yours, your mother thanking you as she reflected on your words.

“Sometimes I wish she was more like you,” she said as she stirred the liquid in the cauldron, her words making you bitterly chuckle. “I don’t think that will ever happen, Mother, she despises me too much to even consider me as a family member. Anyway, I’m going back to work,” you stated and walked back to the entrance, hearing your mother disagree. “Y/N, dear, what do you mean? Y/N!” She yelled, but her words fell on deaf ears, closing the door behind you before going back down in the bakery.

Your sister and the bouquet had vanished, much to your delight. You breathed in deeply as you started working hard again, focusing on your tasks to forget everything that happened today that scarred your heart. The afternoon went by in the blink of an eye, but it seemed like your faith had prepared still more trouble to come.

Just as you were about to finish your last loaf of bread of the day the front door opened again, this time you didn’t even bother to look.

“I’ll be there in two minutes!” you yelled from the furnaces as you pulled out freshly baked loaves with your big, wooden spatula, letting them rest on the side. You quickly checked if they were baked all around and nodded, inwardly praising yourself for your nice job.

Once you arrived behind the counter, you huffed heavily as you noticed who is standing in front of you.

“You know that the door to our home is on the left side of the house, you can go and knock there if you wanna see my sister,” you stated, lazily showing him the wall. “Stop thinking I’m here to see your sister,” Changmin said, looking annoyed at your words, “I’m here for you.”

You snorted and immediately apologised, letting out a true laugh as you thought he was joking. The tailor’s son frowned at your reaction, making him look ridiculous. His tongue poked his inner cheek and waited for you to calm down, his serious expression making you frown.

“Why did you want to see me, then? You had to come back to humiliate me again since doing it this morning was not enough?” you said, a sarcastic smile on your face. “I don’t know who planted this idea in your head, but I am not in love with your sister. She does not interest me. At all!” he exclaimed, and you had to laugh again. “Of course, you want me to believe that. That’s why you delivered flowers here this morning, right?” you said, and Changmin’s face decomposed in front of your eyes, his shock state making you raise your brows.

“No. No, she bloody didn’t,” he said and swiftly turned around to look outside, a hand pressed on his mouth. He quickly turned back to you and leant over the counter, resting his palms on it. “It was a bouquet of white tulips and yellow roses, right?” “Yes, in a white clay vase,” you confirmed, “those are not her favourite flowers by the way. She prefers purple hydrangea,” you added.

“Is nothing ticking inside your brain right now? Your mind is so clouded by hatred towards your sister that you don’t understand where I wanna get at?” he said, his face nearing yours closer and closer at each word. “Mh, who do you think those flowers were for? Why would I be gifting your mother some, my mother did that for her birthday a few weeks ago. Then if it’s not for your mother nor your sister, who’s left?” You thought in silence for a second before opening your eyes wide.

“They were for me?” you whispered, suddenly feeling all the pressure and anger reducing in your body as you pointed at yourself. Changmin was so close that his breath fanned against your face as he sighed deeply, his eyes searching for yours as you took in this confession. “Of course they were for you, Y/N. Sunwoo’s father told me that yellow roses were gifted as a form of apology. I was asking for forgiveness with those. But of course, I now understand your reactions if you believed they were for her,” he said, and you glanced at him.

“I don’t know what you imagined or saw yesterday, but I was only polite with your sister. I don’t want to be one of her conquests or just a one-night stand, this doesn’t interest me at all. I wanna mean something for someone. All the times that I came here, your sister was working, except for this morning. I was happy that you were the one behind the counter, I wanted to have a nice chat with you, but everything became so confusing to me when you were this dry and rude to me. But now I understand, I understand everything,” he quietly explained, and you felt like an utter idiot, looking at his large hands resting on the wooden counter.

“I should be the one apologising. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, but I was just… close to exploding,” you said, head hanging low as you realised you behaved like a temperamental child.

“Y/N, I’m responsible too. I shouldn’t have assumed you and your childhood best friend were a thing. I guess I was... jealous and upset that you gave another man attention and probably scared to see you slip through my fingers,” you looked up at him, and he smiled, your heart skipping a beat as you feel like breathing again.

He was interested in you. Not in your sister, in you.

And that simple thought just stretched a smile on your face, your breath mixing with Changmin’s as you were staring in each other’s eyes, so close to the other. A delicious shiver ran down your spine as your nose bumped into his, smiling as he rubbed them together. You closed your eyes, still smiling, millions of butterflies erupting in your stomach as you felt his lips locking with yours in a sweet kiss. It felt even more magical than you had always imagined in your dreams, and a groan got stuck at the back of your throat when he cupped your cheeks with his slender hands to deepen the kiss over the counter.

And for once, you were the one winning. Your sister had better watch out, because you were already excited to rub your relationship with Changmin in her face, a feeling of sweet revenge creeping up in your stomach as you kept kissing your crush.

[fangirlovestuff]

Loving Him Was Red - Chris Evans x ginger!reader

a/n - hey lovely people! i’ve been in a fluffy mood lately so i wrote this, please note that i usually try to be inclusive in my works but this isn’t very inclusive!! i’m so so sorry in advance, but as a ginger who was born in fall i really really wanted to write this. the awesome divider is by @firefly-graphics​ <3 again, this is completely self-indulgent, i’m sorry!! 

Summary: Spending an autumn day with Chris is always fun<3

Word Count: ~850

Warnings: none, absolute fluff🥺 except that reader is ginger and born in fall, i’m so sorry i know it isn’t inclusive i’m really sorry!!

The sun shown in through the car window and you squinted at the bright beams. Beside you was Chris, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, squeezing lightly when he felt your eyes on him. Dodger was sleeping in the back, unexpectedly. He was usually more restless, but it seemed he was just as content as you were.

When you arrived at the park, you jumped out to untie Dodger while Chris pulled out your bags. You took Dodger's leash in one hand and Chris' hand in the other and started walking.

The park was filled with trees, their autumn leaves a bright orange. You looked at Chris to find him looking at your surroundings, smiling softly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you asked and bumped your shoulder into his.

"I was just thinking about how this time of year feels like your time of year," he smiled and reached to play with a strand of your hair between his fingers.

"Are you saying my hair looks like dry leaves?" you chuckled at the blush that rose in his cheeks.

"No! I meant that fall was always my favorite season and my favorite person was born in it," he pecked your lips. "But yeah, you do also fit the color scheme," he added as an afterthought and you giggled.

You found a secluded area between the trees to sit down and have some lunch. It was mostly shaded, apart from the occasional ray of sunshine sneaking in through the treetops, making your hair shine a little.

You finished your sandwich and gave Dodger some cuddles, and Chris couldn't resist and sneaked a picture of you both. Once you noticed he was taking pictures you took your tongue out at his phone and he laughed, prompting Dodger to bark along.

"Here, look," Chris said and showed you the pictures. Most of them were goofy or blurred because of your laughter, but he actually managed to get a couple of really good photos where you were smiling at Dodger, the sun beautifully illuminating your hair.

"That's a really good one!" you said.

"I love that tone of surprise," he smirked, and you laughed.

"Wow, I really do fit the color scheme," you remarked with a smile, "all that's missing is a pumpkin spice latte and I'll be a walking fall starter pack," you chuckled.

When you got back home you took a warm shower and put on some comfy clothes before slipping downstairs, where Chris was making some tea. You accepted the steaming mug gratefully before Chris came behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You leaned back against his firm chest, sighing contentedly and blowing on your tea a little before taking a tentative sip.

"Thank you," you said softly and turned your head to smile at Chris.

"You smell good," he answered, sniffing your hair a little as you giggled.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you – I'm pretty sure our costumes arrived!" Chris said and pointed at a package that was sitting on the table.

"Well what were you waiting for? Let's open it!" you exclaimed and put down your mug, searching for some scissors. You opened the packaging to reveal two costumes – Ariel and Eric from The Little Mermaid.

You pulled out the sparkly green maxi skirt and little crop top with a smile on your face. You out them against your body and grinned at Chris. "What do you think?"

"It looks great! We should try these on," he smiled, pulling out his costume as well.

Tea long forgotten, you both put on your costumes. "Mine fits perfectly," you showed off your get up to a grinning Chris.

"Mine's a little tight around the shoulders," Chris grimaced and shifted a little and you snorted.

"Sometimes it's like that when you order online, but I think it's fine," you told him, while thinking that actually, sometimes it's like that when you're Chris Evans, owner of hella muscles.

You fussed with the shirt a little, unbuttoning the first few buttons before Chris caught your wrists and raised his eyebrow at you. "What? It's how he wears it in the movie!" you grinned.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't have nearly all of his buttons undone, sweetheart."

"He doe—" you started and then smiled. "You know what, let's not argue about this. We're watching the movie right now," you stated with a smile.

Chris laughed, but he certainly didn't argue.

You both took the costumes off and he went to have a quick shower while you tidied up in the kitchen and made some popcorn, which you were munching on by the time he went back downstairs.

"Saved me some?" he asked as he brought a blanket and put it over the both of you. You snuggled into his side and extended the still-pretty-full bowl to him.

"Thank you," he told you with a smile and kissed the top of your head.

The next day you checked your phone to see Chris posted the cute picture of you and Dodger, with the caption "They fit the color scheme" and an orange heart🧡

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000​

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXI (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

Words: 4,734

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Nine: More Bad News.

Mel had to stay in her bedroom because of the dreadful headache she was suffering. 

The back of her hand was burning, and she could see the skin actually starting to get a mark. 

She wanted to see Ron's try out but she didn't want to fall unconscious in front of everyone. The girl rolled over on her bed, holding her hand and trying to ground herself, but her mind was fixed on Harry and his awful temper. It was true that he didn't deserve the punishment, but she didn't deserve to feel it either!

She went back to the common room, her head feeling heavy. Ron immediately walked up to her and handed her a butterbeer, he was beaming.

"I got in!" Ron did something he'd never done before and hugged her. "I'm on the team!"

"Blimey, Ronnie!" She grinned. "A Prefect and Gryffindor's keeper? You'll be getting dates in no time!"

"Lady!" Fred spoke up. "You knew about this?"

"I helped him train!" She said. "He's good isn't he?"

"He's all right," George shrugged.

"Let's hope his massive nose doesn't get it the way..." Fred smirked.

"Oh, shut up," Mel rolled her eyes.

"Come and make me," He taunted.

Luckily for her, Harry walked in right at that moment, and Ron dragged her with him to meet the boy.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"

"What? Oh — brilliant!"

"Have a butterbeer. I can't believe it — where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there," said Fred.

Hermione was sleeping soundly on one of the chairs.

"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her..." said Ron.

"Let her sleep..." said George, and in no time a bunch of first years surrounded him and his twin.

"Come here, Ron, and see if Oliver's old robes fit you," said Katie Bell. "We can take off his name and put yours on instead..."

Angelina walked up to Harry and her.

"Sorry I was a bit short with you earlier, Potter. It's stressful, this managing lark, you know, I'm starting to think I was a bit hard on Wood sometimes... Look, I know he's your best mate, but he's not fabulous," She made a vague movement towards Ron. "I think with a bit of training he'll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I'm banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper's a real whiner, he's always moaning about something or other, and Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies, she admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charm Club she'd put Charms first. Anyway, we're having a practice session at two o'clock tomorrow, so just make sure you're there this time. And do me a favour and help Ron as much as you can, okay?"

Harry nodded and then he turned, his gaze fixed on her.

"You're... you're bleeding."

"Huh?" Mel frowned.

Harry reached for her hand and Mel stepped back.

"I'm fine," She grumbled, walking to where Hermione was sleeping.

"It's happening again, isn't it?" Harry insisted.

"It never stopped," Mel scoffed. "Turning your back on me did nothing."

"You... you were supposed to be safe..."

She looked at him, his voice came out so utterly defeated that she had to take a moment to answer.

"You really thought it'd work?" Mel asked, this time softer. "What am I supposed to say? That I'm sorry? 'Hey, at least you tried!'– I told you..." Her shoulders fell, she had no energy to be angry. "Harry, I told you... What d'you want me to say?"

He stared at her, speechless and disappointed.

"Oh, guys, it's you..." Hermione stirred up in her place. "Good about Ron, isn't it?"

"Yeah..." She responded without breaking eye contact with Harry. "Yeah... I'm really happy for him."

"I'm just so — so — so tired. I was up until one o'clock making more hats. They're disappearing like mad!"

"You and those hats," Mel sighed, finally looking down at her friend.

"Listen," The boy sat in front of them. "Dumbledore said we should stick together, right? All right– I'll tell you what happened– I was just up in Umbridge's office and she touched my arm– and it... it stung! It reminded me of... you know..."

Hermione started slowly.

"You're worried that You-Know-Who's controlling her like he controlled Quirrell?"

"Well, it's a possibility, isn't it?"

"I mean... the Order believes it's very likely Voldemort has a few spies there..." Mel admitted.

"I suppose so," said Hermione. "But I don't think he can be possessing her the way he possessed Quirrell, I mean, he's properly alive again now, isn't he, he's got his own body, he wouldn't need to share someone else's. He could have her under the Imperius Curse, I suppose... But last year your scar hurt when nobody was touching you and didn't Dumbledore say it had to do with what You-Know-Who was feeling at the time? I mean, maybe this hasn't got anything to do with Umbridge at all, maybe it's just coincidence it happened while you were with her?"

"She's evil," said Harry glancing at Mel's hand. "Twisted."

"She's horrible, yes, but... Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore your scar hurt."

"I'm not bothering him with this. Like you just said, it's not a big deal. It's been hurting on and off all summer — it was just a bit worse tonight, that's all —"

"Harry, I'm sure Dumbledore would want to be bothered by this —"

"Yeah, that's the only bit of me Dumbledore cares about, isn't it, my scar?"

"Don't say that, it's not true!"

"Mel, do you think he'll care?" He asked her, and in his voice, she could tell he was asking for real advice.

"I reckon he'll say it's normal now that Voldemort's alive," She sighed after a bit of pondering. "Doesn't mean he doesn't care about you, though. As I said, he asked me to help you."

"I think I'll write and tell Sirius about it, see what he thinks —"

"Harry, you can't put something like that in a letter! Don't you remember, Moody told us to be careful what we put in writing! We just can't guarantee owls aren't being intercepted anymore!"

"All right, all right, I won't tell him, then!" said Harry getting up. "I'm going to bed. Tell Ron for me, will you?"

"Oh no! if you're going that means I can go without being rude too, I'm absolutely exhausted and I want to make some more hats tomorrow. Listen, you can help me if you like, it's quite fun, I'm getting better, I can do patterns and bobbles and all sorts of things now."

"Er... no, I don't think I will, thanks. Er — not tomorrow. I've got loads of homework to do... why don't you ask Mel? I still have the hat she gave me, she was getting quite good..."

"Nope, sorry," Mel got up and made her way over to the twins and Ron. "Too busy, got loads to do..."

She felt something warming up on her pocket and pulled it out. She smiled down at the watch on her hand, a message glowing on it.

'Sunday, 5 pm'

"Anything interesting?"

"No, just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married... Wait a moment– Oh no... Sirius!"

Mel dropped her fork.

"What now?"

"What's happened?" Harry took the paper so violently it ripped in half.

"'The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer... blah blah blah... is currently hiding in London!"

"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," said Harry. "He did recognize Sirius on the platform..."

"What? You didn't say —"

"Oh no– if they saw him in the platform that means they saw him with my mother!" Mel realized in horror.

"...'Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black is very dangerous... killed thirteen people... broke out of Azkaban...' the usual rubbish– Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all. Dumbledore did warn him not to."

"Poor Snuffles, he'll go crazy..."

"Hey! Look at this!" Harry gave a start.

"I've got all the robes I want," said Ron, glancing to what Harry was showing him.

"No, look... this little piece here..."

TRESPASS AT MINISTRY

Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watch- wizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.

"Sturgis Podmore? but he's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord —"

"Ron, shh!"

"Six months in Azkaban! Just for trying to get through a door!" Harry exclaimed.

"Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door — what on earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?"

"D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?"

"Wait a moment... Sturgis was supposed to come and see us off, remember? Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going to King's Cross, remember? And Moody was all annoyed because he didn't turn up, so that doesn't seem like he was supposed to be on a job for them, does it?"

"Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught."

"It could be a frame-up!" Ron exclaimed. "No — listen! The Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so — I dunno — they lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they've just made something up to get him!"

"Do you know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true," Hermione shook her head. "Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on Self-Fertilizing Shrubs first, and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus before lunch..."

"We've got Quidditch Ron and I," Harry hurried to say.

"You can come with me, 'Mione," Mel told her. "I'm going to meet Erick in the library, anyway..."

But as soon as she said it she wanted to take it back. The idea didn't feel as appealing as going alone. She decided to bail on it and find another day to meet him in private.

"Hang on– it just came to me– I... I have to do something," She got up, picking up her bag. "Apologize to Erick for me, won't you? Tell him I'll meet him next week..."

"Oh," Hermione's smiled faltered a bit. "All right, I have a few questions about charms, maybe he knows..."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked as she joined them.

"Don't ask, keep walking," She said. "I don't feel like studying, that's all."

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're getting tired of your study sessions..."

"I would never," Mel frowned. "I know what you're trying to suggest, but you're wrong. Now shut up and keep going."

Harry nodded silently, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Wish I had your dedication," Ron told her. "The schoolwork isn't killing you. I mean, we can do it tonight and we've got tomorrow. Hermione's the one that gets too worked up about work, that's her problem... D'you think she meant it when she said we weren't copying from her?"

"Yeah, I do. Still, this is important too, we've got to practice if we want to stay on the Quidditch team..."

"Yeah, that's right– And we have got plenty of time to do it all..."

"And you've got me– not that I'm going to give you the answers just like that, but you know, I'm clever and all..." Mel shrugged.

"Well..." Harry looked at her when they reached the dressing room. "See you in a minute..."

Mel nodded shortly before walking to the stands. What was happening to her? She didn't know how to act around anyone anymore. Didn't feel like herself, always bottling up every emotion...

She spotted Malfoy and his team waiting to see the newest Gryffindor addition. Ron had a very thin ego and they couldn't afford to lose him on the very first day.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called as the Gryffindor lot walked out of the dressing room. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a mouldy old log like that?"

"Don't get involved..." Mel mumbled under her breath.

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" Pansy Parkinson yelled. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

The Slytherins hadn't noticed her since she was a few seats behind them, and she didn't want them to, they were bound to tease her and she needed to stay out of trouble.

On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps out of relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie's outstretched hands and hit her hard in the face.

"Sorry!" Ron groaned, zooming forward to see whether he had done any damage.

"Get back in position, she's fine!" barked Angelina. "But as you're passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won't you? We've got Bludgers for that!"

Katie's nose was bleeding. Down below the Slytherins were stamping their feet and jeering. Fred and George converged on Katie.

"Okay, maybe..." Mel started, "maybe I'll get involved just a little..."

The lot was now singing 'Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers,' and many things happened at once: First, directly from her palm, a bunch of red sparks burst and surrounded the Slytherins with an explosion. They covered their faces and jumped out of their seats, trying to put them down. Mel gasped and covered her mouth in shock, she hadn't intended to do that, but there was nothing she could do now.

Back in the Quidditch field, Katie was bleeding profusely, and Angelina stopped the practice to take her to the infirmary. Pansy turned around and spotted Mel, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"You!"

She smiled as innocently as possible. "What's wrong?"

Pansy pulled out her wand and Mel stood up, her smile fading.

"Do it– See what happens, dear prefect, once the teachers find out you attacked an unarmed student."

"You attacked first," She snarled, the rest of her classmates had scattered away, though the firecrackers followed them around.

"Did I?" Mel leaned closer and jumped over the seats that kept them apart, one row after the other. When she was finally in front of her, she added, "Prove it."

No one knew she could do wandless magic. Not to mention that when Pansy asked her to empty her pockets –'prefect orders,' she'd sneered– there was nothing but a pocket watch.

Far from feeling ashamed, a wave of power hit her. No one had to know, and as long as she kept a low profile and a sweet attitude, she could make Pansy and Malfoy's lives an actual hell.

The twins approached the next day when they found out she was the only one near enough the Slytherins to set them on fire. Nothing bad happened to them, but it sure scared them off, and they weren't planning on going back to the training sessions any time soon.

Mel liked the twins' praising and she spent the rest of the day with them, leaving Ron and Harry to do their homework alone.

As a consequence of this, many students approached her. Now that she wasn't around Harry so much they seemed to think she had more common sense than expected. Not that she was talking rubbish about Harry, but she was definitely more likeable when she wasn't attacking others in order to defend him. That without mentioning she was far less loud and dramatic than years prior.

She went back to the common room that night with a bunch of new friends, even better, friends from different houses. Ron didn't like that, he was upset because she hadn't been there to help him as she'd promised. His anger only got worse when he received a letter from his older brother.

"Well," Harry said jokingly once they finished reading it, "if you want to — er — what is it? Oh yeah — 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."

"Give it back," He snatched the letter. "He is —the world's biggest git." Ron ripped the letter into small pieces and threw them in the fire. "Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn..."

"I wonder what rubbish is the Daily Prophet writing now," Mel said absently.

"Oh, give them here," Hermione said abruptly, taking the boy's homework.

"What?"

"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them."

"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver, what can I — ?"

"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,'– Where are you going, Mel? You promised you'd help them too. Sit down."

Mel groaned, but she took Harry's paper and started to review it.

"Thanks a million, girls," said Harry, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, shut up," Mel grumbled. "Don't interrupt me or I'll mess it up."

"Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met, and if I'm ever rude to you again —"

"— I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione.

"Harry, you really have to pay attention to the things you... Harry?" Mel looked at the boy, who was now crouching next to the fireplace.

"Er — Harry?" said Ron. "Why are you down there?"

"Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire."

"What?" Mel dropped to her knees as well, pushing the essay aside.

"Sirius's head? You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too — Sirius!" Hermione squealed.

"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," The man grinned. "I've been checking every hour."

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry laughed.

"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet."

"But what if you'd been seen?" said Hermione in horror.

"Well, I think a girl — first year by the look of her — might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry, I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something."

"But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk —"

"You sound like Molly– This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code — and codes are breakable."

"You impulsive piece of– You... you..." Mel stammered.

"All that you're wishing to call me, Emily has called me twice already this week," He shook his head. "It's fine, I swear, I just wanted to reply to Harry's letter."

"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" said Hermione.

"I forgot! Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?"

"No, it was very good," said the man with a proud smile. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed — your scar. Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion, so maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention."

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often."

"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?"

"I doubt it. I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater —"

"She's foul enough to be one..."

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her."

"Does Lupin know her?"

"No, but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."

"She called him a half-breed during class! I had to bite my tongue to not yell at her!" Mel scolded.

"What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermione.

"Scared of them, I expect. Apparently, she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose —"

"Sirius!" Hermione said reproachfully. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher I'm sure he'd respond, after all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said —"

"So what are Umbridge's lessons like? Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"

"No, she's not letting us use magic at all!"

"All we do is read the stupid textbook," said Ron.

"Ah, well, that figures. Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Trained in combat? What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius, "or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic. Mel leading the group, of course."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with. Certainly, Mel's good enough to lead the class but to lead an army? That's crazy!"

"So we're being prevented from learning Defense Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" said Hermione in outrage.

"Yep. Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

Mel remembered her talk with Dumbledore. In a way, he was training her as if she was going to lead an army, but the mere idea was crazy! He'd said it himself, Mel wasn't supposed to take his place, he just wanted her to be better.

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow? Only Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be —"

"I don't know, I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher, Emily and me here..."

"So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?"

"Ah... well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him– But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you four get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now..." said Hermione.

"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home — but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or — well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay. Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid, it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay. When's your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could —"

"NO!" They said altogether.

"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" said Hermione anxiously.

"Oh that," Sirius, grinned, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue —"

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," said Harry. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius — you know, Lucius Malfoy — so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognizes you again —"

"All right, all right, I've got the point! Just an idea, thought you might like to get together —"

"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" said Harry.

"...You're less like your father than I thought," he said coldly. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."

"That's not fair, Sirius, now you're in danger—" Mel started, but he ignored her.

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Emily -or maybe Kreacher, dunno- coming down the stairs. I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"

"Oh, get out," Mel huffed.

Sirius vanished with a pop, and Mel carefully turned to Harry.

"Don't listen to him, Glas–" She stopped before they nickname could fully leave her mouth. "Harry. He's just throwing a tantrum."

Harry let out a heavy sigh, stood up and grabbed his essay.

"Thanks for the help. I... I appreciate it."

He went to bed after that.

'MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"'

Mel visibly deflated on her seat, wondering if this was just another nightmare.

"So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this 'Educational Decree' and forced her on us! And now he's given her the power to inspect other teachers! I can't believe this. It's outrageous..." Hermione started.

"I know it is," growled Harry.

"Oh, I can't wait to see McGonagall inspected," Ron said happily. "Umbridge won't know what's hit her."

"I..." Mel shook her head. "I don't even know what to say..."

"That must be a first," said Hermione, "we'd better get going if she's inspecting Binns's class we don't want to be late..."

Umbridge did not inspect any of their morning classes, and Mel was surprised to see an E on her potions essay, graded as if it were her actual O.W.L. examination, which did nothing but to boost her ego even more than her little trick with the fireworks. Hermione was still talking about it with their friends during lunch.

"So top grade's O for 'Outstanding,'" she was saying, "and then there's A —"

"No, E– E for 'Exceeds Expectations.' And I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

"So after E, it's A for 'Acceptable,' and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," said Fred.

"Then you get P for 'Poor' and D for 'Dreadful.' "

"And then T," George reminded Ron.

"T?" asked Hermione. "Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?"

" 'Troll,' " said George.

"You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked once everyone stopped laughing.

"No," said Hermione with interest, "have you?"

"Just now, before lunch," said George. "Charms."

"What was it like?"

"Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."

"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," said George, "he usually gets everyone through their exams all right."

"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked.

"Trelawney —"

"A T if ever I saw one —"

"— and Umbridge herself."

"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today. Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."

"Don't worry about that," Harry gave her a sort of sour look. "Mel will take care of that."

The girl barely looked up from her plate to glare at him, that particular morning she didn't feel like fighting, not after the way Sirius had talked to him.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @sarcasticallywitty15​

[spaceyantique]

five’s a crowd [beatles x reader] part eight

chapter summary: You’re just trying to get through this whole Tinder girl business because it’s NOT affecting you in the slightest. John nurses a particularly cranky hangover, and Paul is the kind of person that drinks milk straight from a glass, apparently. George’s pajamas don’t make this business any easier and Ringo’s heading out for mystery reasons early this Sunday morning.

word count: like 2.1k of i don’t even know what

warnings: sexual implications. drinking, a hangover, general bad language

asterisks correspond to footnotes!

masterlist 

parts one | two | three | four | five | six | seven (oh my!)

“Care for a drink? You’re sulking.” Paul’s standing over you with a shot glass in his hand. As always, he has a talent for seeing straight through people.

“Course. And I’m not sulking,” you say, taking the glass from him. Paul scoffs. 

“Sure, Jan. If looks could kill, that poor girl would be dead.”

God, if only they could. Paul would definitely be right. 

You’re holed up in a booth at the back of the Cavern Club Bar, gripping an empty glass a little too tightly for comfort. George and Maureen are both standing around a table just across the room, his arm loosely draped over her shoulders. Ringo’s on her other side and they all look like they’re having too much fun. You think of how it felt when he put his arm over your shoulders and try to ignore how they practically feel frostbitten now in comparison. She’s not even mean, you think. Hating on some girl you don’t know because of a boy is not good feminism.

“Can I sit?” Paul asks, and you’re forced to tear your eyes away from the happy couple.

“What?” You ask, but he’s already shoving you aside. 

“Lovely place, isn’t it? Much nicer than most of the nightclubs ‘round here. Always thought it would be a treat to perform up there.” Paul nods to the bar. You follow his gaze with a confused look, and he sighs with a smile, then props his head up on his interlaced hands to look at you expectantly.

“What?” You repeat stupidly.

“Drink up,” Paul says, and you do, shuddering at the burn. Tequila.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You say. “You’re usually giggling over John by now.”

“I’m being the best friend in a rom-com. The gay best friend, nonetheless. And I think you should go talk to that guy at the bar.” Paul gestures to a man standing near the stage. He’s tall, but not unnaturally so. He’s wearing a jean jacket and sporting a mess of dark hair to rival John’s untidy mop. 

He’s no George, your brain sneers immediately, and you almost want to scold yourself out loud. 

“Look, dahling.” Paul affects a flamboyant upper-class drawl, and you crack a smile. “There’s no reason you can’t have fun too.”

“You sound like Freddie from upstairs.”

“‘S true,” Paul replies, back to his normal self. “I know how you feel about George--”

“I don’t know what you mean--” you start to say, but Paul holds up his hand to stop you.

“Please let me finish my cliche speech! I know how you feel about George, but you haven’t had anyone to spend the night away with in a while, if you catch my drift.” Paul raises his eyebrows at you and the Pout transforms into a smirk. “So get over there. Don’t make me get John to force you to.”

“God, no. I’ll talk to him,” you say, and Pauls grins, before heaving himself up and disappearing behind a clump of people, probably to suck John’s face off.

As you make your way across the room, George can’t help but notice. He tells himself it’s because the bar is relatively uncrowded, but it’s more than a passing glance. He feels his cheeks heat up as his stomach erupts into butterflies, but Maureen’s laugh from beside him draws him back to reality with a shockingly sobering effect. Still, that cold feeling in the pit of his stomach only gets stronger when he notices where you’re headed.

The man at the bar flashes you a smile as you get close, and you put on your best one in return. 

“Hey,” is all he says.

“Hey,” you say, immediately cringing at the general awkwardness. Okay, so you’re out of practice.

“What’s your name, dolly?” Dolly, really? Still you give him your name and ask for his.

“I’m Eric Clapton. Are you a student around here?” 

All in all, Eric’s sweet, and despite seeming a little like an overgrown fuckboy at first glance, he seems to drink his respecting women juice now. He laughs at your (terrible) jokes and teases you in that flirtatious way, but each time he speaks you find yourself slightly disappointed at the lack of Scouse accent in his words.

Sure, Eric’s sweet, but you don’t take him home that night.

***

The following morning begins much like plenty of others. You’re munching on a bowl of cereal in the kitchen with one of your new textbooks open on the table in front of you and a safe distance from the coffee machine. Ringo shuffles around making his breakfast, his mightily messy hair floating in a cloud around his head. John’s also at the table, severely hungover, his knees to his chest, wrapped in a blanket like a gremlin. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and bitching about the noise anytime anyone speaks.

“Fucking bullshit,” Ringo declares out of nowhere. John hisses at the noise while you turn to see him attempting to mount the countertop. “George keeps putting the fucking sugar in the top cabinet. How ‘m I supposed to get up there?”

“Grow longer bones,” John mumbles helpfully*. Ringo shoots him with a glare and continues trying to climb onto the counter.

“Spent all me growin’ power on my brain, thanks.” 

“And what a big brain it is.” John cracks a grin at his own joke and you roll your eyes.

“Where is George, anyway?” You say, trying your hardest to seem nonchalant. John wiggles his eyebrows at you anyway, grinning like a chimpanzee. You slam your textbook shut and he winces at the sound. For a few seconds, you’re engaged in an intense war of making rude faces back and forth.

“Oh, maybe writing in his diary?” Paul’s entered the kitchen now too, looking overall far too bright-eyed and rosy-cheeked for the volume of alcohol he consumed last night.

“Does he really have a diary?” You ask, and John and Paul share a meaningful glance that you don’t have time to decipher. Ringo’s breakfast sandwich (toast, tomato, and cheese) is done, and when he places it on the table, John lurches forward with a hand over his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” is all he says before he disappears towards the bathroom. Paul, cheerily pouring a glass of milk, makes a sympathetic face at John’s retreating form.

“I should make sure he’s alright,” he says, before going to the cabinet to pick out a cereal. 

“Are you going to?” 

“Well, y’know, I don’t really want to.”

You’re about to repeat Paul’s y’know back to him to tease him before you see which cereal he’s picked out.

“Do NOT touch my goddamn Rice Krispies, you fuck!” 

“Just one fuck,” Ringo says, mostly to himself. 

“But I want them! I’m hungry!” Paul pleads, using the Pout and his droopy eyes to their full potential.

“But I paid for them! And there’s plenty of other cereal!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see your name on them!” 

“Look again, bitch!” You demand, and he does. Sure enough, you’ve Sharpied your name onto the top flap.

“Fucking ridiculous,” Paul mutters, placing the Krispies in their rightful place.

“John’s fine,” Ringo announces. “He’s just sent me a TikTok. And he also told me he’s changed my contact to “Mango Bongo,” so I suppose he’s alright.”*

You and Paul both scramble for your phones to change his name to something equally ridiculous. You settle on “Dingo Presto: Magician Extraordinaire.” Not your best, but it’ll do.

Paul settles at the table where John was sitting before, grouchily eating Cap’n Crunch.

“Paul,” you say. “Why the hell are you eating cereal with milk and drinking a glass of milk at the same time?”

“Strong bones?” Paul shrugs.

“You’re a heathen,” Ringo says, straightening up and brushing the crumbs from his lap. “I’m going out, so I’ve got to get ready.”

“Where the hell are you going on a Sunday?” You ask.

“I’ve-- I’m-- I’ve started dog walking on Sundays,” Ringo stutters out.

“Interesting,” Paul comments before loudly slurping on his milk.

“That’s a job from a damn sitcom! That’s like one of Spencer’s jobs on iCarly!” You call after Ringo, but he’s already disappeared into his and George’s shared room. You almost catch yourself trying to peek inside to see if George is asleep there. Ringo wouldn’t go in if Geo had company, would he?

“That’s odd,” Paul says, and you’re a bit surprised to see he’s as confused as you are. “Wonder if he’s going to see someone.”

“Maybe,” you agree. “The university doesn’t have any classes on Sundays, too.”

As you contemplate Ringo’s departure, John shambles back in with even messier hair. He’s still wearing the sunglasses, but looking less pale and overall gargoyle-ish.

“So, how was that guy last night?” Paul asks, and the look he gives you is indecipherable.

“We left separately, if that’s what you’re asking,” you reply, before adding,  “John, you’d better still those fucking eyebrows before I tear them off your face.”

“Aggression! You wound me, birdie.”

“Why didn’t you go off with him? You looked like you were having a good time,” Paul asks, taking another gratuitous sip of his fucking milk.

“Who are you, my mother? I just didn’t want to,” you say, perhaps a bit too harshly. You open your textbook again to a random page and start reading, more to make a point than anything else. 

“George left alone too, in case you were wondering.” John’s comment affects you more than you’d like to admit, zapping through the early morning fog in your brain and making you feel electric.

“Why would I wonder about that?” You ask, but John just smiles that rat-bastard smile. Paul’s sly grin matches John’s, and you slam your textbook closed a second time, again for emphasis.

“You two fuckers are up to something. And you’re not good at hiding it,” you huff.

“Up to no good, my pretty?” John cackles in a spot-on impression of the Wicked Witch of the West. 

“Yes, you’re up to no good! I don’t like it.” You place your cereal bowl in the sink and hoist your stack of textbooks into your arms. As you leave the kitchen, you catch snippets of their conversation.

“You’ve butchered it--” Paul’s hushed whisper.

“Well, now we’ve got them both--” John’s pointed drawl. “So don’t worry--”

Fucking assholes, the both of them. You pass the tiny living room to head to your bedroom and nearly run straight into George.

He looks like he’s just rolled out of bed. His eyes are still a bit swollen from sleep, and you can see the imprint of the creases on his pillow on his right cheek. His curls are smashed on that side too, while the hair on the other side of his head sticks out like half a halo, glowing in the morning sunlight that streams through the living room window. You also notice almost immediately that he’s shirtless, and the pajama bottoms he’s wearing are untied and loose around the waist. They sit low on his hips, exposing a trail of hair on his abs and the top of a v-line that leads--

You exercise every bit of willpower you have to reset your gaze to eye level.

“Good morning,” you force out, trying to sound casual.

“Morning,” he says, and you feel a fluttering somewhere underneath your collarbones at his deep, gravelly, morning voice. Neither of you speaks for a moment, and you’re suddenly thankful to be holding your books over your chest because they provide a shield between George’s gaze and the deafening thumping of your heart.

“Ringo’s just gone out,” you blurt, if only to break the awkwardness.

“On a Sunday?” You shrug and nod at the same time in reply. What the hell is wrong with you? Speak! He’s your friend!

“John and Paul are in the kitchen, so I’m going to do my work in my room.”

George nods, glancing towards the two bastards. You nod again (idiot) and start to make for your room.

“Did you--” You turn back at the sound of George’s voice, already feeling breathless. “Were you here all night?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah.” He gives you a little smile and nod before you continue to your room. Once inside, you close your door and lean back against it, feeling almost dizzy with relief. 

Little do you know, George is still standing exactly where you left him. The strange cold feeling that settled deep in his stomach as he watched you talking with Eric is starting to thaw now in the bright morning sunlight. Still, if you could see his face, you’d agree that the smile on his face is a thousand times brighter.

***

footnotes:

*from this post

*This joke is partially from Finding Nemo. Nemo is called several different names throughout the movie by Dory, including Fabio, Pedro, Harpo, and Elmo. I shall not be accused of joke stealing!

five’s a crowd tag list: @1-2beeble​ @beatlevmania​ @theclassicsl​ @withthebeables​ @thasbooooooi​ @geostarr​ @report-abuse​ 

[lovemesomesurveys]

What's the most beautiful thing you've seen in the last week? Snapchats/IG stories my cousin posted of the ocean while she was there earlier this week.

What is beauty, in your opinion? Something you find aesthetically pleasing.

What's your favorite brand of potato chip?  Original Ruffles and ranch dip is quite good. Of all the bands you hate, which do you hate the least? I can’t think of any band I hate. There’s bands I don’t like because I just don’t vibe with their music, but I don’t hate them. Do you believe it is possible to know something that's false?  Yes?

Does man have free will? Yes.  How many people have you ever dated? Two. Would you rather do evil or have evil done to you? Uh, neither... Who's better, Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera?  I like songs from both of them.  How many friends do you have? Zero. What's worse, algebra or geometry? I hate math, period. We didn’t vibe. Are you a vegetarian of any sort?  Nope. What's your sexual orientation? Straight. Who do you look up to? My mom. Should art that does not represent anything be considered art at all? Anything can be considered art. Just because it might not represent anything to you, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t. People can look at the same thing and see something totally different. Have you ever... Literally wanted to kill someone? Stayed up all night...two nights in a row? Had a near-death experience? Been obsessed with a celebrity? Believed a person to be perfect in every way? <<< Only Jesus. Been hated by the people at an online forum? Planned your own suicide? Had an overwhelming religious experience? Fainted? Had an imaginary friend? Been windsurfing? Volunteered for an organization without having been forced into doing so? Wanted something so badly you'd sell your soul for it? Seen something so disgusting you puked? <<< Pretty damn close. Changed your mind about something important three times in one day? Written anything longer than twenty pages (typed, single-spaced)? Read anything longer than one thousand pages (in one day)? Felt as if you could do anything? Taken a friend on a family trip? Attended a Marxist gathering? Memorized the lyrics to the Internationale? Witnessed a solar eclipse? Fallen asleep during class? Been away from your family for more than six weeks? Which of the following best describes you Simple/Sophisticated Altruistic/Selfish Smart/Dumb <<< Kinda smart, kinda dumb. I feel I’m just average. Cute/Ugly Reader/Writer Math nerd/history buff <<< Neither. Into sports/Into music Unwavering/Impulse Serious/Funny Favorite Type of animal: Dogs and giraffes. Word:  *shrug* Number:  8. Music video: I’ll say Lady Gaga’s Paparazzi video because it has Alexander Skarsgard haha. TV show:  I have several. Philosopher:  I don’t have one. Video/computer game: Mario Bros anything pretty much, Animal Crossing: New Horizons, and The Sims.  Sport (to play):  None. Sport (to watch):  None. Living political figure:  I don’t have one. Work of art:  The Scream by Edvard Munch. Month of the year:  October and December. Name:  Alexander. Calculator:  Uh, I don’t have a favorite calculator. I just use the one on my phone if I need one. Comic strip:  Peanuts.

Enemy:  I don’t have any enemies. If I did, I don’t think I’d have a favorite one... Year of your life:  I’ll give you a decade: the 90s. Teacher:  I’m not in school anymore.

Restaurant:  Wingstop. Textbook: Do you crave adventure?  I’d like to travel. I really could use a vacay. Do you wear glasses?  Yep. What's the purpose of your life?  I haven’t figured that out, yet. Do you have moral integrity? Yes. Do you like your family?  Yes, I love my family. Do you like yourself? No. :/ Would you ever respond "Yes" to the question "Are you hungry or full?"  No? Your religion? Christian. What do you care about most in your life?  God and my family. Have you heard the term "Luddite?"  Uhh, nope. Have you ever been elected a class officer?  No. Do you get good grades? I’m done with school now, but yeah I got A’s and B’s. Do you litter?  NO. Huge pet peeve of mine. Just throw it away!  Are you a paragon of virtue? A what? Okay, so I Googled it and it’s a term for someone who describes themselves as being perfect and having no faults or imperfections; often used sarcastically and ironically. I am certainly no such person, no one is, and I wouldn’t even say I was joking cause just no. I clearly have faults and imperfections. I know people who would use that term about themselves, though. What is virtue, in your opinion?  Having to do with morals. Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? How long have you been together? Why do you like him/her? Nope. Is incest wrong?  Yes. Do you have a calendar of any sort?  Yeah, I have a physical one and the one on my phone. What time is it?  6:04AM. Tell me something interesting. I got nothin’. Do you cuss?  Not a lot, but yes.

Are you bilingual(/trilingual/quadrilingual, if that's a word/etc.)?  No. I wish.

Are you mentally ill? I have major depression and anxiety. Does mental illness exist?  Uh, yeah it absolutely does. Ever fallen in love online? No, but in 6th grade I had an online boyfriend I met in a teen chatroom lmao. I would say I was like 16 or 18. I shouldn’t laugh cause it’s very likely the guy was probably an old perv. Who is John Galt?  I don’t know. How many songs are on your playlist?  I have no idea, but it’s a shit ton. What's your favorite singer/band? Linkin Park is definitely my top favorite band, but I have many favorite artists and bands. List three favorite songs. That’s too hard. Do you approve of math jokes?  I probably wouldn’t even get them, ha.

How about "your mom" jokes? Not a fan. Are you addicted to online surveys?  Yeah, you could say that. Are you addicted to anything else? Caffeine :O <<< Same. Do you have any anti-technological tendencies?  No. Are you bored?  Nah. Who do you despise?  Evil, sick, disturbing people. If you could cure one social ill, what would it be?  Child abuse. If you were dictator of the US, what's the first thing you would do? I wouldn’t want to be a dictator, for one. Also, I wouldn’t want to be in control in any kind of way over the country. How many kids would you like to have? Zero. What's the biggest lie you've told within the past two weeks? I haven’t told any huge lies in the past two weeks. Do you have AOL?  No. I haven’t had AOL since like 2004. Do you consider yourself a loser? “Soy un perdedor, I’m a loser, baby.” Are you putting off something important to take this survey?  Sleep? It’s 6:22AM, but sadly that’s become the norm for me this year. If you could change the design on the American flag, how would it look? I’ll leave it the way it is.   Why do you believe children like stuffed animals? Because they're soft and cuddly. <<< Would you rather die or have ten random strangers die?  Wtf. Do you believe nuclear weapons should be eliminated? Absolutely. Education? What about it? I think it’s very important if that’s what you mean. Slavery? Of course not!  Do you deliberately cause physical harm to yourself?  In a way I have since I don’t take care of myself like I should. I’ve neglected and ignored things I shouldn’t have.  Are definitions for losers?  No?? We need to know the meaning of words... Summarize yourself in one word.  Blah. Do you have any pets?  I have a doggo!  Ever had a blood transfusion?  I’ve had a few. Who was your first crush?  This kid named Philip when I was in the 3rd grade. When did you have it?  Oh. ^^^ What's your earliest memory? Preschool memories come to mind first. Are you listening to anything right now? Yeah, an ASMR video. Are you a good writer? People have said that I am, *shrug*  Are you physically disabled in any way?  Yes, I’m a paraplegic. Would you rather lose an arm or a leg?  I guess a leg out of the two. As someone who relies on their arms for everything, I really need those. I’d like to keep all my limbs; though, thanks. Are you easily amused?  Yeah, you could say that. Are you socially inept? I’m socially awkward, is that the same? Who's your favorite fictional character?  Eric Northman. Where will you be in twenty years? Gah, I can’t think about that. Do you remember the 1996 election?  No. I turned 7 that year , I didn’t pay attention to that stuff. I was a kid, I cared about kid stuff. Do you remember anything that happened in 1996?  I remember I got the chicken pox. Is it worse to be considered unfeeling or irrational?  I’d say both. What's the greatest sports team of all time? I really don’t care about sports at all. What turns you on/off? It’s been so long, who knows. Do you get angry over little things? No, but I do get very irritable and frustrated quite easily. If you could have one wish (other than more wishes), what would it be? Good health. Do you enjoy hypothetical questions? Ehh, depends.

How much will you accept without proof? Uhhh. Ever dumped someone?  Yes.

Ever beaten someone up?  No. Ever been addicted to drugs/alcohol/tobacco?  No. Who's your best friend?  My mom. Who's your second-best friend? My younger brother. Do you approve of democracy?  Yes.

[zen3to5]

J/H 6-19: Squeeze Box

Episode order continues to shift; "Squeeze Box" is now 6-19.

FF.Net AO3

***

SHOW TITLE   INT. THEATER – DAY   A date at the movies. With a slight crowd before and behind them, ERIC and DONNA slide down an empty middle aisle, into the middle seats. Donna carries a bag of popcorn.   DONNA: You know, before we decided not to have sex –   ERIC: You decided. I'm ready.   DONNA: Right, I decided - movies were just a dark place to fool around before we went home and did it, but now we can really watch the movie. Isn't that great?   ERIC: It's fabulous. I mean, there's nothing I hate more than the feeling that I'm about to have sex.   In the aisle behind them, a blonde – let’s call her SLURPEE – slides down, stops when she sees Eric.   SLURPEE: Hi!   Eric turns around, sees her.   ERIC: Hi. Hey. Hi!   SLURPEE: (beat) Okay!   She continues on her way.   DONNA: (to Eric) Isn't that the girl who sells slurpees? Why’s she saying "hi" to you?   ERIC: I don't know. It's weird. I've never talked to her before. I mean, maybe one time I said, "you're out of spoon straws," but that's it.   The lights dim. The film begins. Donna, attentive to the screen, begins munching on popcorn; Eric mopes.   ERIC (v.o.): (thoughts) Great. Now I have to sit through Kramer vs. Kramer again with no shot at nookie. First time we saw it, I said, "you know, dads can be good parents, too," and Donna's shirt just floated off.   DONNA (v.o.): (thoughts) What is wrong with me? A boy's gonna lose his mother, and all I can think about is fooling around. I am such a dirty girl. I should be spanked. Ooh, stop it!   ERIC (v.o.): (thoughts) Screw it. Sneak attack is my only hope. I'm gonna go with the yawn and grab. Watch out for my hand, pretty mamma, 'cause I'm not really tired.   Eric fakes a yawn and reaches a hand around the back of Donna’s seat.   DONNA (v.o.): (thoughts) Oh, God. It’s the yawn and grab. How do I stop it?   As Eric’s hand reaches down for a squeeze, Donna tips the tub of popcorn over. Popcorn spills all over Eric’s lap.   DONNA: Oops! Oh, sorry.   ERIC: Oh, come on. It's okay.   He brushes off most of the popcorn and turns back to the movie.   ERIC (v.o.): (thoughts) Great. Now my lap's covered in hot buttered popcorn. That's the most action I've gotten in weeks.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   A sunny day. A lazy day. HYDE reads a newspaper as he eats a sandwich at the kitchen table while RED rummages through the fridge. KITTY enters through the patio door.   KITTY: Well, it’s official: Pam’s moving in with Bob. You know, I can’t believe that woman. She’s forcing poor Fez and Michael to carry in box after box loaded with her clothes and undergarments. I don’t even think she’s paying them.   HYDE: No, but I’m pretty sure they’ll help themselves to a few souvenirs.   Kitty shrugs, exits into the living room. Red, beer in hand, crosses to the kitchen table and sits.   RED: You know, I bet you, with all the new crap that’s gonna be cluttering up that house, this is just the excuse Bob needs to “forget” where he put that toolkit I loaned him last week.   HYDE: Why don’t you just go get it now?   RED: I could do that... but why should I when I have you?   HYDE: But I don’t want to go get it.   RED: And I don’t want people your age in my house. But you are your age, and this is my house.   He gives Hyde an ugly grin.   CUT TO:   INT. HALLWAY – DAY   The upstairs hall of the Pinciotti home. BOB, boxes in hand, strolls down one end of the hall just as Hyde comes around the other.   HYDE: Hey, Bob. Red sent me to get his toolkit.   BOB: Oh, sure thing, Steven. (nods to nearest door) Middle shelf on the bedroom bookcase.   He continues on his way. Hyde steps up, opens the door, and is greeted by the sight of PAM, topless. She turns around and smiles at him.   PAM: Hi, Steven.   Hyde’s hand falls off the doorknob. His jaw goes slack. As if in a trance, he turns around and moves as quickly as he can the way he came.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Moments later. Red is back on his feet, preparing a sandwich for himself at the island. Hyde throws the patio door open and slides back into the kitchen. He pulls the door shut, locks it, sits back down at the kitchen table, and looks anywhere but the door as his fingers drum along the table’s edge.   RED: (looks up) So, where’re my tools?   HYDE: Not there.   His eyes settle on the far end of the table. His finger tapping grows faster. Red starts to take notice of Hyde’s nerves.   RED: Not there?   HYDE: Nope. Not there.   RED: They’ve gotta be over there. I know I lent them to Bob. Now you get back over there. I want my tools, dammit!   HYDE: (quickly) Well, think about it, Red. “Your” tools. “Lending” them to Bob. What is the concept of ownership, anyway? Isn’t it all just part of the corrupt capitalist system keeping us down?   RED: What the hell’s the matter with you? I’ve never seen you this twitchy. You’ve been spending too much time with Eric.   He shoves his sandwich aside, crosses to the patio door.   RED (cont’d): Fine. I’ll get the damn things myself.   He unlocks the door and heads outside.   CUT TO:   INT. PINCIOTTI BEDROOM – DAY   The master bedroom of the Pinciotti home. Pam is still walking around topless as the door opens and Red takes a step inside. He freezes the second his eyes spy Pam. She turns and smiles at him.   PAM: Hi, Red.   Red’s hand falls off the doorknob. His jaw goes slack. As if in a trance, he turns around and moves as quickly as he can the way he came.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Red throws the patio door open and slides back into the kitchen. He pulls the door shut, locks it, sits back down at the kitchen table across from Hyde, and looks anywhere but the door as his fingers drum along the table’s edge.   HYDE: You saw ‘em too, didn’t you?   RED: (beat) What the hell is wrong with that house? Open marriages, nudist parties, and now Bob’s sending people into his room without warning while the town lush struts around, exhibiting herself!   HYDE: What do we do about this?   RED: What’s there to do? We didn’t ask for that! As far as I’m concerned, it never happened. We don’t speak of it again, and we don’t say a word to anyone.   HYDE: Maybe that works for you. I just got flashed by Jackie’s mom. I can’t keep that from her. She’s gonna know something happened. She’s like a bloodhound who can sniff out whenever I do anything wrong. Things are still heavy with her and Pam. She’s not gonna like this.   RED: Oh, and Kitty will? Because she’ll find out about two seconds after you tell your loudmouth girlfriend. You just remember this, pal – if I go down from this, I’m taking you with me. And when I take people down, they stay down. Just ask North Korea.   He looks down at the table, scowling. Hyde starts tapping the table edge again.   HYDE: She say “hi” to you, too?   Red rolls his eyes; he still wants to drop it. But Hyde presses on:   HYDE (cont’d): What is that, a come-on?   RED: What woman comes on to their teenage daughter’s boyfriend?   HYDE: I know, right? I mean – I’ve been hit on by older women before, and it was great. Made me feel all naughty. But with this, I just want to reach into my brain and cut out the whole memory of the last ten minutes of my life. It’s not fun anymore.   RED: Well, Steven, that’s what love does – it makes things not fun anymore. Enjoy it.   He turns away again as Hyde’s head twitches this way and that.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Can’t Find Love” by Earth, Wind and Fire.   INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM – DAY   The aftermath of the movies. Donna sits at her writing desk, her back to her open door. Her foot taps relentlessly as she talks on the phone.   DONNA: Look, Jackie, Eric and I came really close to doing it, and I am so jacked up on hormones, I feel like I could jump the first guy I see.   As she says this, MITCH comes up the hall and into her doorway, a peach cobbler in hand. He strolls into the room, sets the cobbler down on Donna’s desk, and leans over her shoulder.   MITCH: Then look my way, pretty lady.   Donna jumps slightly; she didn’t notice him come in. She sets the phone down and stands over Mitch.   DONNA: Okay, Mitch, you know I love having you around 'cause you say really nice things about me.   MITCH: Like how the sun pales in radiance to the beauty of your smile?   DONNA: Yeah, like that.   MITCH: Yeah.   DONNA: But I have to talk to Jackie, and it's girl stuff.   She takes Mitch by the arm and pulls him to the door.   MITCH: Oh, you're so strong. You make me feel like Jessica Lange in King Kong.   Donna gives him a shove out into the hall and throws the door shut after him.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – DAY   The next day. Just the boys, but not the usual line-up of boys: FEZ sits in Hyde’s chair, Eric and Mitch share the couch, and KELSO sits in the lawn chair. Eric has a half-finished X-Wing Fighter model in his hands, the open box for it on the coffee table. Eric works on the model with a tool as he talks.   ERIC: You know why Darth Vader went to the dark side? He was dating a redhead who wouldn't put out.   FEZ: So you are like Darth Vader in the sense that you're not getting any, but you are not like Darth Vader in the sense that you are weak and strike fear in no one.   Eric nods, gives Fez the thumbs’ up.   ERIC: Well, this is certainly one way to spend an afternoon.   KELSO: You know, I never really got into making models. Guess I was too busy having sex.   He stands, crosses to the deep freeze.   FEZ: (to Kelso) Hey, I don't have sex, and I still don't build models. I don't have a single model or a single girl. My life is an empty hole.   Mitch looks over Eric’s work so far.   MITCH: Hey, nice job. You put the force field generators on backwards. One photon torpedo, and you're space toast.   He laughs and looks to Fez and Kelso to join in; they just stare.   The basement door flies open and Donna races inside.   DONNA: Okay, Eric, that's it. I think we should have sex.   Eric grins, sets down the X-Wing.   ERIC: Yes!   MITCH: No!   Eric glares at Mitch, but before he can say anything, Donna pulls him to his feet.   DONNA: Okay, I'm going crazy not being with you. You may not be a strong man, but you read my body like braille.   She smiles, and Eric gives her a slight laugh. They take a step in towards each other when:   KELSO: Burn!   They both turn and glare at him.   KELSO (cont’d): Wait. What's braille?   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN LIVING ROOM – DAY   Concurrent with the previous scene. Hyde sits alone on the couch, watching TV. His arms are folded tight and he shifts uncomfortably.   The front door opens, and in walks JACKIE. She smiles when she sees Hyde, moves to sit next to him.   JACKIE: Hey.   HYDE: It was an accident!   His yelp causes her to recoil slightly in her seat.   JACKIE: What?   HYDE: What?   JACKIE: What?   HYDE: What?   JACKIE: Steven, I’ve never seen you this tense. (beams, hugs him) It’s wonderful!   HYDE: It is?   JACKIE: Steven, if I learned anything useful from my mom, it’s that if your man’s not tense when you walk into the room, that means you’re doing something wrong.   She rubs his bare sleeve, pouts her lips at him.   HYDE: Uh... yeah, that’s right. I’m tense because of you. ‘Cause you’re... too pretty.   JACKIE: Aww...   She pecks his cheek. He wipes it on his shoulder, and she massages the spot she pecked.   JACKIE (cont’d): You know, if we can slip down to the basement - I’m early for dinner and I decided to give going braless a try.   Hyde jolts in his seat, edging away from Jackie.   JACKIE (cont’d): (confused) Steven!   HYDE: Well, does it always gotta be about boobs with you? Damn, woman!   Jackie scoffs, “excuse me?” Hyde can’t take the pressure of her stare. He jumps off the couch and retreats into Red’s study. Jackie looks to the TV and throws up her hands, “what was THAT about?”   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT - EVENING   Later in the day. Donna has taken Hyde’s chair, with Mitch hovering behind her. Kelso leans on the dryer. Fez and Eric share the couch, with Eric having finished his X-Wing model.   ERIC: Okay, the tractor beam is operational. Don't get too close!   MITCH: (to Donna) You really gonna shine your love light on that?   DONNA: Well, he's a different person between the sheets. What can I say?   KELSO: Hey, guys, tomorrow I have this police test on interrogation techniques. I was wondering if I could practice on somebody.   DONNA: Sure, I’ll help you.   KELSO: Nah, it’s my first time. I’m gonna need someone much more spineless than you. (to Eric) All right, Mr. Forman - if that is indeed your real name - what did you do on the day of today?   ERIC: (gangster voice) You'll never get it out of me, copper. I'm no rat!   Kelso rips the X-Wing model out of Eric’s hands and hurls it at the coffee table. It shatters into pieces.   ERIC (cont’d): Kelso, what the hell?   KELSO: Oh, just relax, Eric. I'm just doing “good cop, bad cop.” That was the bad cop, but he's gone now. See, now good cop is here to take care of you.   He sits down on the couch arm, puts a hand on Eric’s shoulder.   KELSO (cont’d): Hey, how you doin', buddy? It's a real shame about what happened to your model. Why don't you tell me what you did today?   ERIC: I came home from the restaurant and spent six hours building that model!   MITCH: Uh, excuse me. I'm sorry to interrupt, but what about your encounter at the store with the girl who sells slurpees?   Donna’s attention snaps to Eric, and Eric and Kelso’s snap to Mitch.   DONNA & KELSO: What?   MITCH: (to Eric) Yeah, you remember. She asked why you never call her anymore. You were like...   Mitch pulls a dumb face and shrugs. Kelso “oohs” and takes a few steps back from Eric – he doesn’t want to be in range of potential fire.   DONNA: (to Eric) Wait. Is that the girl from the movies?   KELSO: Donna, I'm asking the questions here. (to Eric) Was that the girl from the movies?   DONNA: (to Eric) What happened to, "I barely know her"?   KELSO: (to Eric) What happened to, "I barely know her"?   DONNA: Why were you calling her, Eric?   KELSO: Why were you calling her, Eric?   ERIC: Kelso, will you shut up?   KELSO: Oh, yeah, it's getting hot in here, isn't it?   He gets right up in Eric’s face. Eric pushes him back by the face, turns to Donna.   ERIC: Look, Donna... maybe I kinda know her. Maybe we kinda went out a couple times when you were dating Kelso's brother.   DONNA: (stands) Wait, so, the other day at the movies, you lied to me?   KELSO: Donna, I am the senior officer here. (to Eric) So the other day at the movies, you lied to me?   ERIC: (to Donna) No, I... you know, I mean, it was the movies, you know? It's all make-believe.   DONNA: Okay, you know what? Don't bother coming over tonight. My sexual tension has been replaced with another familiar emotion: anger at your scrawny ass!   Eric sighs, closes his eyes. Mitch, behind Donna’s back, pumps a fist before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.   MITCH: I'm just glad I could help the truth be told.   DONNA: Yeah, at least someone's being honest around here.   With a last glare at Eric, she storms up the stairs.   Mitch looks to Eric, with a grin that would make the Grinch green(er) with envy.   ERIC: Mitch, what the hell?   MITCH: What? I thought you came off looking great. Oh, wait - that was me.   He grins again and follows Donna up the stairs.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Double Vision” by Foreigner.   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING   Dinner preparations are underway. Red and Hyde sit at the table, and Jackie sits on the island, watching as Kitty puts the finishing touches on a tray of roast chicken.   KITTY: Jackie, are you sure you want to be here for a dinner welcoming your mom to the neighborhood?   JACKIE: Well, she made things up with Bob and she’s trying to sort out her priorities, so I think she’s earned it. That, and I don’t trust the hotel food when Steven’s not in the kitchen. I saw one of the other chefs – he has an eyepatch. I’m worried he’s got a talking parrot somewhere he’s gonna get mad at, pluck, and try to pass off as quail.   KITTY: You know, I’m worried I didn’t get enough chicken. These breasts look so small.   Hyde and Red both flinch at the word “breasts.”   Red glares at Hyde.   RED: (hushed) Not a word.   The patio door opens up. Bob and Pam enter, Pam bearing a bottle of Kahlua and a low-cut top.   BOB: Hey there, hi there, ho there.   PAM:  (to Hyde & Red) Hi, boys.   They both silently moan and look down at the table, even as Bob and Pam move into the room and take positions where Pam’s breasts are right above Hyde’s head. His face starts twitching.   PAM: Oh, Kitty, every time I come to this house I’m amazed by how much you’ve done with so little.   Kitty doesn’t acknowledge that. Bob takes the bottle of Kahlua, sets it on the island.   BOB: (to Kitty) Here. Pam wanted to get you cookies, but I know how much you like the sauce.   KITTY: Uh-huh. (to Red) Do these breasts look big enough?   Red flinches again, recoils in his seat.   RED: I’m not comfortable with that question.   KITTY: What?   RED: What?   KITTY: What?   RED: What?   Hyde’s fingers start drumming along the table edge again. Jackie hops off the island and crosses to him.   JACKIE: Steven, what is wrong with you?   KITTY: (to Red) What is wrong with you?   RED:  There is nothing wrong with –   HYDE: WE SAW PAM’S RACK!   All eyes are on him. Red is furious, Bob mildly surprised, Pam sympathetic, and Kitty and Jackie stunned.   HYDE: (beat) So – this is what it’s like, being Forman.   He puts a hand over his shades under the continued combined stairs of the others.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – EVENING   Right where we left off. Jackie still glares at him, but some of the pressure is off Hyde – Kitty is now glowering at Red, who gives her his full attention.   KITTY: You saw Pam’s... Pam’s...   She gestures towards Pam’s body, ending by indicating her breasts. She takes note of Pam’s top.   KITTY (cont’d): Well, they’re halfway out already, so why don’t we just throw them out for everyone to see?   BOB: It was the day she moved in.   All eyes flicker to Bob.   BOB (cont’d): Yeah, Pammy told me. At first, I thought I should be mad, but then I thought, “hey, I sent ‘em in there, and it’s a great view.”   He looks to Pam, who smiles, shrugs, and nods.   PAM: (to Hyde, Red) And don’t feel bad, you guys. This isn’t the first time my body has caused a fight. One time, I caused a riot on a topless beach in Venezuela. Imagine what you saw, only all tanned and oiled.   Red and Hyde both put their hands over their faces.   JACKIE: Okay, Mom? Maybe now’s not the best time to talk about what a sensation your looks made while you were drinking your way through Latin America – where apparently, they don’t believe in locking the door! (to Hyde) And I can’t believe you saw my mother naked and didn’t tell me about it right away!   HYDE: (points to Red) He told me not to!   Red’s jaw drops as he glares at Hyde, “how could you?”   HYDE (cont’d): Yeah. You thought this was North Korea? We’re in Vietnam, man! Game over!   They stare each other down from across the table, even as their women still glare at them. Bob and Pam stand a few feet back, watching with amusement.   BUMPER   SPLIT SCREEN: INT. DONNA’S BEDROOM/INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   In Donna’s room, she and Jackie sit on the bed together. In the basement, Eric and Hyde sit on the couch together. Hyde has SCHATZI in his arms and scratches his head throughout the scene.   ERIC: Man, Donna is so pissed at me.   DONNA: I am so pissed at Eric. I can’t believe he lied to me about that girl. I mean, we’re getting married. I should know everything about him.   ERIC: But, I mean, we’re already getting married. Do we have to know everything about each other?   DONNA: If I have to know that he wore a bathing suit in the tub until he was 12 – (sees Jackie’s expression) Yeah, tell everybody – I should know who he dated.   ERIC: Donna playing “anteater” in her backyard, eating bugs until she was nine? Was perfectly happy not knowing that, thank you very much.   JACKIE & HYDE: God, will you shut up? Maybe other people have relationship problems too.   ERIC: Oh, I’m sorry, Hyde. Is something wrong?   DONNA: What the hell’s with you?   JACKIE/HYDE: Steven saw my mother topless./I saw Pam topless.   DONNA: Oh, God.   ERIC: All right!   He holds his hand up for a high five, which Hyde doesn’t return. Donna puts an arm around Jackie’s shoulders.   JACKIE: And the worst part is, he tried to keep it from me! He’s my boyfriend. Any time he sees another woman’s boobs, he’s supposed to say something.   HYDE: The worst part is, it was the finest rack I’ve ever seen. And that includes nudie flicks and Playboy centerfolds. And I’d still take back ever seeing it so I didn’t upset Jackie.   ERIC: Yeah. I’d really like to break my record for not upsetting Donna by making it past one week.   DONNA: Speaking of naked sluts, you don’t think Eric and that girl...   Mitch leans into frame in Donna’s room.   MITCH: Made sweet, emotional love? Yes, I do.   Eric reaches over to scratch Schatzi’s ears, but Schatzi barks and nips at his fingers, and Eric quickly recoils.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – NIGHT   The aftermath of dinner. Kitty, terse and sharp in her movements, packs up the chicken for refrigerating. Red is still at the kitchen table, looking pleadingly up at her.   RED: Kitty, I said I was sorry. All I did was open the door, and there she was! Was I supposed to rip the eyes out of my head?   Kitty slams the wrapped chicken down on the stovetop and turns to Red.   KITTY: Oh, shut up, Red! I can’t even stand to look at you!   RED: And yet you do. Because your eyes work? You see my problem?   Kitty’s frown deepens. She puts her hands on her hips.   KITTY: You don’t even know why I’m upset, do you?   RED: Of course I do! (beat) But why should I deprive you of one of your favorite pastimes – telling me why you’re upset?   KITTY: Red, I know you’re not a peeping tom. And, good lord, that woman’s always one Jell-O shot from giving it away. I mean, I’ve never even seen a freaking panty line on her! But I’m upset that you went out of your way not to tell me about this, and that you made Steven do the same thing to Jackie.   RED: (stands) But Kitty, the only reason I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t want you to be upset!   KITTY: Well, that sure backfired, didn’t it?   Red runs a hand down his face. He takes a step in to Kitty.   RED: Look, Kitty, I’m sorry.   KITTY: (beat) I know.   She steps in, pulls his head down so she can kiss his cheek.   KITTY (cont’d): So – how’s she look?   Red recoils.   RED: I’m not comfortable with that question.   KITTY: Oh, come on, Red. Pam talks herself up all the time – how does the show measure up?   She playfully pokes at Red’s sides. He dodges, moves around her. Kitty stays right behind him, poking at his sides and smacking his butt. Laughing, she chases him out of the kitchen, over all his grunting protests.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BASEMENT – NIGHT   Eric, Hyde, and Schatzi are still on the couch. They’ve been joined by Kelso, in Hyde’s chair, and Fez, in the lawn chair.   KELSO: (to Hyde) Completely naked?   Hyde sighs; he’s done talking about this.   HYDE: (warning) Yes.   Kelso, mouth gaping, looks to Fez, who wears the same expression.   FEZ: Oh, if only we had stayed around after moving in her panties.   The basement door opens. Donna and Jackie storm in, Mitch following after with a nasty smirk.   DONNA: Okay, Eric, there's something I need to know. Did you or did you not do it with the slurpee slut?   ERIC: (stands) What?   MITCH: (to Donna) Oop! He answered a question with a question. That means he's guilty. Now let's ditch him and carry me out of here.   ERIC: Donna, I did not sleep with her.   DONNA: Well, you lied to me about her before, so why should I believe you now?   ERIC: You don't believe me? Fine. Let me show you what I was doing while you were with Casey.   He climbs over the couch and disappears into Hyde’s room.   Jackie moves to stand behind the couch, just to Hyde’s right, and glares down at him.   JACKIE: Hey, Steven, the next time Eric steps out with the slurpee slut, maybe you should tag along. You might get another free show out of it!   FEZ: (to Hyde) You wouldn’t even need Eric. I’ve bought many a slurpee from her, and from what I can tell, she’ll do it with anyone.   HYDE: Did she do it with you?   FEZ: No, she has way too much self-respect for that.   Eric returns, a box in hand. It is overflowing with Star Wars models.   ERIC: Okay, Donna. This is a box full of models that I made while you were with Casey Kelso.   Mitch pokes around inside the box.   MITCH: Look at this. TIE Fighters, assault vehicles, and troop transports. All with minor defects in workmanship. (points to Eric) Yeah, he made these, all right.   DONNA: (to Eric) So this is what you did when we were apart? (smiles) Oh, my horny nerd boy.   JACKIE: Aww... that’s like Steven looking after Schatzi when we were broken up. Except watching a dog is caring and sensitive, whereas Eric’s models are geeky and pathetic.   Eric and Donna both glare at her. She shrugs, sits on the back of the couch, and reaches down to pet Schatzi.   Eric sets the box down.   ERIC: Donna, there's a reason I didn't tell you about her. She wasn't important. The whole time we broke up, you know... you know I never stopped loving you.   DONNA: Eric...   She takes him in her arms, and they kiss.   ERIC: So, can I suggest that we honor the age-old tradition of making up after a fight, not just spiritually, but physically?   DONNA: How about a brand-spanking new tradition where I buy you a milkshake and a Playboy?   ERIC: Donna, whoa. I'm insulted. I do not need a milkshake. Let's go.   Hand in hand, they exit out the door.   MITCH: What, so they're back together and everything's fine? That sucks.   He exits out the door too.   Hyde twists around in his seat to look up at Jackie.   HYDE: Hey, sorry about the thing with your mom. I wanted to tell you before, but Red got all freaked.   Jackie sighs, slides over the back of the couch to sit next to Hyde.   JACKIE: Well, it’s not your fault. Mom just doesn’t care who sees her. She used to walk around our house topless all the time.   Kelso and Fez both stand.   KELSO: That’s it. We gotta get over to Bob’s.   They both race up the stairs.   Hyde sets Schatzi down on the coffee table. Jackie leans over to pet him, even as Hyde leans into her.   HYDE: You still giving the braless thing a try?   Jackie looks up at him, raises her eyebrows.   HYDE (cont’d): Hey, I’m fine with things being all about boobs as long as they’re yours.   Jackie smiles, “awws,” and gives him a quick kiss.   JACKIE: But what did you learn from all this?   HYDE: That, if he’s only worried about Mrs. Forman, you can totally get away with burning Red.   Jackie tries to pout at him, but a smile breaks through. Hyde just grins and scratches under Schatzi’s chin.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. HALLWAY – NIGHT   The Pinciotti house. Kelso and Fez creep up to the bedroom door on their tiptoes. Each bears a massive grin, and each titters in anticipation.   KELSO: Ready?   Fez nods eagerly. Kelso grabs the door handle, throws the door open... and reveals the sight of a stark-naked Bob, toweling himself off.   He turns around, sees the boys, smiles, and shrugs.   BOB: Oopsie doosie.   Fez and Kelso throw their arms around each other and hold each other tight as they scream for their lives, unable to look away.   END.

[lamiasluck]

Just Making Sure

Summary: News of Eric's shop has officially spread to all of Dark's gang. While a new shop opening isn't exciting news, what is confusing is how Bim described him. Innocent and good? In this town? Too unlikely, no one believes him. So Dark assigns a spy mission to King to find some dirt on Eric, or, more specifically, assigns a mission for King's squirrels. After all, who would grow suspicious of a troop of adorable squirrels?

AU: Magic au, every ego has magical powers and familiars

Characters: King, Eric, Bim, Dark, and a few other egos

Words: 1844

Read on AO3!

-

“He could be a spy,” Google said nonchalantly.

Bim slammed his hand against the meeting table. “I will bet money on this. He’s just some random innocent guy.”

“In this town? Doubt it,” Illinois laughed. “I’ll take you on that bet though, I could use a new hat.”

“Your luck’s gonna run out, Illy.”

The point of this meeting was to discuss future schemes and new targets. Dark didn’t expect it to derail like this. One passing comment about the new potion maker, that’s all it took, and now they were at a point of no return. Curiosity was a dangerous emotion, or incredibly annoying in this case. This potion maker, Eric, would be a topic of focus for the time being. It’s not every day one man grabs the attention of an entire gang, for good reasons, at least. However, this unorganized talk was getting tiresome.

Dark folded his hands and placed them on the table. “Bim, you’ve met this man once.” His searing voice immediately silenced the group. “How can you know his intentions?”

Bim shifted in his seat as he thought about his next words carefully. “He’s so… innocent? I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’ve seen wannabe spies before. He doesn’t seem like one.” As he continued he furrowed his brows and looked more and more fascinated. “He’s a good guy, and pure-”

“As pure as the driven snow?” Dark cut him off, staring at him with an analyzing gaze.

Instantly Bim caved under the pressure. “Well, yeah, I… I guess so?”

“Then there’s something he’s hiding. No one here doesn’t have blood on their hands.”

The group fell silent, uncomfortably so. Dark reveled in their unease, however, Wilford broke the silence before the feeling could sink in.

“I met him the other day! He’s as sweet as candy! As pure as a newborn puppy!”

“Though he acts more like a kicked one…” Bim raised his head again. There’s the confidence again. “I don’t know why he acts like that, maybe it was something I did?”

“It was definitely something you did,” Dark sighed.

Wilford hummed. “He acted all nervous around me too.”

“Then it was something you both did.” Dark cracked his neck, standing up and glaring at everyone. “Clearly this meeting has gone awry. If you all want to spend your time with your infatuations then so be it, just don’t be surprised when your latest sweetheart reveals his true colours.”

“I’m telling you, this guy’s as innocent as I say he is,” Bim murmured.

Dark walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Alright then, Trimmer.” His grip tightened. “You hold onto that notion.” He looked at King from across the table, who flinched and looked back with fear. “King, follow me, I have a job for you. We’re going to investigate.”

-

A soft hum was the only sound within the quiet shop. Eric was taking the time to water his plants and herbs. For once, the day was peaceful, downright pleasant even. Either that or Eric was always anticipating some sort of chaos to happen. His day could go from zero to a hundred quickly, he had to take advantage of any peaceful moments he could capture.

Tulip watched unblinking as he worked, nose twitching in anticipation. Eric sighed with a fond smile and carefully picked off a leaf of basil. Within seconds it was gone, munched away by a ruthless Tulip.

The day continued as such. As far as Eric could tell, today was a normal day. Slow business can be a saving grace sometimes. It meant no one could interrogate him or make him brew up another harmful potion. Speaking of potions he took the time to restock his shelves, he spent most of his time in the backroom with his ingredients.

Unbeknownst to him, there were spies amongst him. Very tiny spies.

King’s familiar, Princess, lead the charge. A cluster of her most trusted squirrel subjects followed her chittered commands, jumping from tree to tree. She differed from the other “commoner” squirrels, of course, she had elegance.

A grey blur glided between the trees. Being a flying squirrel had its advantages, Princess landed onto the shop’s roof without any trouble, her loyal troops following suit. They positioned themselves accordingly, perching onto windows to spy on their target.

Eric was in the back room stirring his next concoction. A pinch of ground herbs, a sprig of enchanted flowers, and a touch of love and care. Also magic, lots of magic. Too preoccupied with the task at hand, he didn’t notice the sounds of little paws skittering nor the quick shadows of passing spies. Not that it damned his soul or anything, the plethora of spies was growing bored of his uneventful routine, staring at the peaceful scene.

By how Dark worded the mission made it seem like the squirrels would see Eric kill someone. Hours passed and now Eric was reading by a table in the main shop. It was even a cute light-hearted book. Princess huffed and scratched at her ears. Her troops were resting in a nearby tree, far too bored to spy any longer. She wasn’t going to give up that easily. Now perched on the windowsill that gave a good view of the entire main shop, she watched diligently.

Her view of her target was abruptly blocked by a mass of white fluff. A bunny jumped up onto a nearby shelf next to the window, not noticing her presence yet. That moment was short-lived, however. The second the bunny noticed her it was chaos.

“Tulip?!” Eric jumped to his feet as Tulip ungracefully leaped from the shelf and dashed towards him. He looked at the window and saw Princess hideaway a second too late. “W-What’s that?” he questioned out loud.

Casting one more look at his poor familiar cowering, he cautiously made his way to the door and stepped outside. Princess pressed herself against the wall to hide, though that didn’t help her cover, none of her troops were around to help either. They had a silent stare off for a moment, then Eric’s eyes brightened and a small smile appeared on his lips.

He cooed softly at Princess and looked back at Tulip, who was still cowering. “It’s okay! Come on, it’s just - just a squirrel.” A much different squirrel than he was used to, much tinier, round, and curled into a ball and staring at him with big curious eyes. Quite eye-catching, and utterly adorable.

Tulip still wasn’t convinced and continued to hide under the table. This was normal behaviour for the bunny, especially in this town, her nervous habits became amplified. Though, to be fair, both her and Eric were always on their toes in this town. However, Eric could never be scared of such a cute animal. He hummed to himself and went back into the shop, walking into the backroom to get something.

Princess tilted her head as she was abandoned. Soon after, Eric returned with something in his hands. Perhaps he was about to reveal that evil side Dark told her and King about. Was she about to find out the harsh way?

A handful of sunflower seeds were placed on the windowsill. Then, Eric walked back inside to comfort Tulip, managing to pick her up and hug her. Princess hopped up and looked at the seeds with suspicion. Well… she was getting hungry from all the spying.

“Aw~ See, Tulip? The squirrel’s not gonna hurt you,” Eric reassured as he watched the squirrel feast on the seeds. He turned Tulip in his arms until she could see how harmless Princess was. The sight calmed her down slightly, her and Princess locked eyes for a brief moment before the squirrel returned to eating.

For once, Tulip felt calm. On the flip side, Princess’ worries about Eric being evil vanished more and more with each seed she stuffed in her mouth.

Eric giggled and gently placed Tulip on the shelf in front of Princess. Only a window separated the two.

“W-Will you be - be okay, Tulip? I’m gonna, um, I should get more seeds.” Eric left and Tulip watched the squirrel eat with a sudden burst of confidence. Another squirrel, one of Princess’ troops, popped up to have a share of the food. Then another, then another, then another… A small cluster of squirrels gathered on the windowsill now. All of them looked like an average squirrel compared to Princess, and all of them made Tulip’s confidence falter.

Princess allowed her subjects to have their share of the feast, glancing back into the shop. She caught sight of Tulip in front of her, ears flattened to her head and shaking slightly. Yet, Tulip stayed planted in place, staring at her with determination. Even with the window in the way she could understand what the bunny was doing. Facing her fears.

Now that was a mindset royalty could appreciate.

Before Tulip got too overwhelmed and hopped away, Princess tapped her paw on the glass to get her attention. As a sign of respect, she nudged her head against the glass and bowed the best she could. She’d love to give her new bunny friend a hug, but this damned glass was in the way! So she settled with the next best thing.

Tulip stilled and twitched her nose. Slowly, but surely she hopped closer and nudged her head against the glass.

“Aw~!” Eric nearly dropped the seeds he was holding. “You made a friend!”

The seeds were the last thing on Princess’s mind right now, though they were a welcomed luxury. Her new friend will make for a great subject.

-

“I told you,” Bim sneered at Dark.

The meeting room had an air of confusion to it, with quiet murmuring amongst the egos. Dark paid no attention Bim’s snarky gaze, instead looking at King while he spoke in a smooth, albeit frustrated, tone.

“You better not be lying to me.”

King cowered in his chair. “I’m not-! They didn’t find anything!” His crown was off and resting on his lap, temporarily housing Princess as she also cowered. “Eric’s really nice, he took care of my squirrels…” he trailed off with a small smile on his face, though that was quickly wiped off by Dark’s exasperated attitude.

“How did he end up here?” Dark questioned out loud.

“I don’t know,” Bim shrugged, “but he’s here now, and I think he doesn’t know what this town really is.”

Fascinated, that was the emotion that spread through the awkwardly quiet room. Not many believed someone so good waltzed into this town. Then again, perhaps they were too used to their vile ways to acknowledge the possibility of someone pure near them.

‘There must be something he’s hiding.’

That thought crossed everyone’s mind. A puzzle just waiting to be solved. A puzzle that they were going to figure out, one way or another.

It didn’t matter that this “puzzle” was going to be scared out of his wits, what mattered was finding out answers.

[dailyaudiobible]

10/07/2020 DAB Transcript

Jeremiah 8:8-9:26, Colossians 3:1-17, Psalms 78:32-55, Proverbs 24:27

Today is the 7th day of October welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today, hump day, another center of the week that we move through…well…once a week, but here we are in the middle of the first full week of this month. And yeah, the Bible is speaking to us. And, so, let's move into that. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week. Jeremiah chapter 8 verse 8 through 9:26.

Commentary:

Okay. Let's think about cooking. Let’s think about recipe books. Like some of you are like extravagant cooks. My wife would be one in that category. I would be much less in that category, but above just making Ramen noodles. But we’re all over the map. But the thing that we usually need until we become extremely advanced cooking is a recipe. How much of this, how much of that makes this particular dish that I'm going to eat. And, so, just think about some dishes that we might cook up. Let’s say we grab a leaf of sexual immorality and throw it in the pot and then stir in a couple of impurity and then a handful of lust and then a generous dash of greed and idolatry, and then a cup of anger and a half a cup of rage and three quarters of a cup of malicious behavior and then a dash of slander and some dirty language for taste and then a cup of lying and bake that 350 after we whip it up and pour it into some sort of container. How yummy does that sound? And why do we keep eating that dish when there's another recipe found in Colossians today? And the recipe…well…I…I…I mean I made up the amounts, but Paul told us the ingredients. But what if…what if we made need a different dish? What is we took a cup of tenderhearted mercy and poured that over a nice base of kindness with several leafs of humility, a cup of gentleness, a cup of patience, two cups of forgiveness, right, some sprigs of peace and a garnish of love. That sounds delicious. Which dish would you rather have for dinner tonight? Like, they are completely different dishes that will have a completely different taste and outcome, which is basically what Paul’s talking about in Colossians. Paul was saying essentially that Jesus transforms us into a completely different person with completely different tastes and the old stuff that we used to munch on that were…were leading us down the pathway of destruction should be basically abhorrent to us now because it's the food of the dead. Let that roll around in your mind for a minute. But it does bring us to a point where we can think about what it is we’re munching on. I mean, I know that's a metaphor but it's a metaphor the stands. We all understand what we’re talking about here. What are we consuming? What are we putting in ourselves? Because that's what's coming out of us. That's the aroma of our lives. Like, that’s what we look like. That's how it is with us. We could say in this spiritual analogy “we are what we eat”. Ironically what we’re mostly trying to do is have like maybe a cup of impurity, with a pinch of humility, several tablespoons of greed with several tablespoons of patience. Anger mixed with forgiveness. Like these things do not go together. When I was a kid…I can’t remember if it was like Sesame Street or one of the children's programs back then, like, I can still remember all these years later this little, you know, little children's songs - one of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong. Can you guess which things not like the other be…I don’t know…before we get to the end of this song. Something like that. Things that don't go together don't go together and the things of this world do not go with the kingdom of God. And if we just do some self-examination, especially about the…the points inside of us that have so much unrest, if we look at how that got made it might make sense at why it's turned out the way that it is. Maybe we’re trying to make something that can't work. It’s never gonna taste good ever no matter how we try to keep modifying it. Paul’s saying like, “you got a whole new pallet brothers and sisters, a much more refined one, a much better one. You don't have to eat garbage anymore. You are a son and a daughter of the most-high. Come and feast on the goodness of the Lord. And as we concluded our reading today, Paul's like, “whatever you do or say”...in other words…“whatever you're mixing up, whatever the recipe’s gonna be, whatever you do or say, do it representing Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father. That is a great little garnish on the top of the dish but it's actually saying a lot because it gives us a barometer and gives us the opportunity to say can I…can I do this? Could I put this in my recipe for the day in the name of Jesus? Right? I mean we've discussed this before at a different point in the Scriptures, but we look at these things and say okay, sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires, greed, idolatry…idolatry, anger, rage, malicious behavior, slander, dirty language and lying, which of those can we do in the name of Jesus as a representative of the most-high? So, we just have to ask ourselves, can I do this in the name of Jesus? Maybe I'm free to do whatever I want as Paul has told us so many times, but not everything is good. Can I do this in the name of Jesus or is this going to ruin my whole dish?

Prayer:

Father we invite You into that. We have ruined plenty of dishes, plenty of days, plenty of encounters, plenty of meetings, plenty of circumstances. We’ve ruined plenty of stuff by trying to mix ingredients that do not and will not ever go together. And yet You are calling us higher, You are inviting us forward, You are ever patient and You don't hate us because we've made bad dishes, because we’ve made masses of things. You’re just calling us forward. You’re just saying You can do better than that because You are better than that in me. May we recognize that. May we recognize what we are making of our lives we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

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And that is it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello Daily Audio Bible family this Shelby from Pittsburgh and Brian just want to congratulate you and your family on China’s announcement for this spring occasion of the brand-new life. Your excitement and…and happiness really came through and it just brightened up my day and I think all of us at this time could use some more really happy joyful news. And it really touched my heart. I feel like, you know, I’m going to be another auntie. It’s awesome. Really happy for you guys. God bless you God bless the process and everything. God bless the baby and, yeah, it’s a wonderful thing. Thank you for sharing that with us Brian and I’m very happy to be a part of this Daily Audio Bible family. It is a welcome reprieve from the days, whatever, and I like it because it also helps keep me on track and…and staying in the word of God. So, thank you very much and God bless you and again, congratulations. Goodbye.

Hello, everyone this is Rebecca’s heart from Michigan I’m a first-time caller and been listening to the DAB with my husband Skye since January and we love you guys and appreciate you all. Just wanted to ask for prayers today. I fell a few weeks ago and hit my jaw on a piece of hard metal and whiplashed my neck and spine and that’s…that was right before we went on a 9 ½ hour mission trip road trip to deliver a hand cycle that we fundraised for a new paraplegic friend up in Copper Harbor Michigan. We were able to witness God’s love and care towards Eric and need prayers for his spirit to be opened to be receiving the gift of Jesus love and salvation. We also shared our testimony of our trip with a young couple at a remote campsite named Scarlet and Dave and another young man on a hike named John and we’d like to ask prayers for them that they will come to know Jesus and maybe even read the Bible’s we gave them or listen in to the DAB with us. So, hopefully we’ll hear from them. Besides my own need for prayer and physical healing, Skye and I need prayer for our marriage to be covered by the blood of Jesus and to pray against any attacks the enemy would come at us with. We’ve had three years similar to Job’s story in the Bible with incredible losses but we’re trusting Jesus and need prayers to find us new means of income since Covid and to lead us to where He wants us to be this winter as our landlord is selling our house. We’re asking that when we travel again also in our funky van that God provided He would open the door for us to share Jesus to those we meet along the way.

Hello this is Wonderfully Made Amber from Albuquerque this is my first time calling in a been a listener for a few months now and Daily Audio Bible has been such a blessing in my life and today is the 2nd of October and I’m specifically calling to pray for Lacey from Massachusetts who asked for prayer for her sick dog. That prayer request really resonated with me because I…I have a dog and he is my buddy and companion and I…I couldn’t imagine being isolated and alone without such a companion. And, so, first I want to pray. Heavenly Father thank You for the blessing of this dog in Lacey’s life and Lord You created this little…this little dog and…and…and You…everything is possible with You. So, I asked that You’ll show mercy Lord and favor on this woman and that You’ll extend this dog’s life. He’ll her precious dog in Jesus’ name. And I also pray Father that You will bring more friends, companionship into her life beyond what she has with her dog Lord. This is a hard time of people being isolated and lonely yet there’s still a way for people to reach out to others. And, so, I pray that in Jesus’ name You’ll stir somebody’s heart to reach out to this…to Lacey and to be a friend to her. And lastly Lord I want to pray for healing over her health as well, that You will heal whatever successes, diseases she has and that You’ll comfort her, comfort her and thank You Lord. Thank You for Your mercy and Your grace and Your love and that You never leave us and that You give us good things in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hello this is the Anthony I’m calling from __ I just did hear my fellow New Englander and she called in from Cape Cod, Lacey I believe she said her name was, who’s calling about her sick dog whose her only companion. Just wanted to pray Lord for…for healing for Lacey’s companion…for Lacey’s dog and more importantly Lord that You use this as an opportunity to just help people, help friends, help the community reach out to her so that she’s assured that she’s not alone Lord because no one…no one needs to be alone especially in these…in these times. We just pray Lord for that community and that she through this, finds companionship in Jesus’ mighty name. Amen.

Good day Duncan the Piano Man it’s October 22nd and I’m remembering you because this is the anniversary of your wife’s death. And I know what it is to go through loss. You know, as I’m in right now mourning the loss of my mom, so I understand and I want you to know that I’m thinking about you, I’m praying for you and I pray that you would have a good day with the friends that you are taking out to that special place to eat and those memories that you will encounter in your mind, instead of bringing you sadness will bring you joy. And here is something I want to read to you it says, “do not weep long. You will weep today for sure I know but don’t weep long. Lift your eyes to heaven and see her in the Father’s arms. She will always be a part of you and remember that where there is love death is never the conqueror because God’s love makes it triumphant.” So, be triumphant today in the midst of your memories. And this is Soaring On Eagles Wings from Canada. I love you and I’m praying for you today. Bye now.

Hello this is Howard from Northern California sitting in the parking lot at Kaiser here just dropped by wife off going in for a biopsy. Need some prayers for the women in my life. Obviously, my wife got lucky getting this biopsy because of the great help from the lady that worked the desk yesterday when she went in for a simple mammogram. And then I also need prayers for my mom, she’s 83. She’s had some stroke issues and she’s struggling and Covid thing isn’t helping, no interactions with friends, she feels alone, scared. I try to get up to see her as much as I can. Her sisters are helping her. It’s a burden on them. So, probably prayers for them for patience prayers, for my three daughters. They all struggle from…a few of them struggle from some serious health issues and my oldest struggles with just trying to make it now that Covid took her job and she’s got two kids and her boyfriend, who he’s not the greatest guy that you want for your daughter but hopefully he’ll step up. So, probably prayers for him too. Thank you. God bless

[hostgalli19]

Markiplier Fluffy Collection Chapter 3: Shock Collar

Chapter Summary: Dark is alarmed when Yancy from another universe appears in one of the unused room, clearly terrified and a little worse for wear.

Note: Hi everyone, this is my newest chapter. This was meant to be chapter 4 but because the story that was originally going to be chapter 3 isn't finished yet this is going to be chapter 3. 

This is fluffy angst. Yes, I'm aware I'm a horrible person for putting him through hell, no Dreams I'm not telling you how  Yancy ended up back in Happy Trails. 

You'll have to wait for the chapter and no matter how much you threaten to shank me I won't tell him. At you know he gets out

Length: 3,530 (6 pages) 

Tag List: @doctordiscord123, @wilfordwarfstacheisbae, @wilfordwarfstacheisbae, @matt10nt, @andybemarky, @devon-rever-860, @scuttling-thoughtfully, @lamiasluck, 

Link of Ao3

Dark had felt a strange presence in the manor had gone to investigate, it felt similar to when someone from another universe was transported to the manor, he was concerned when he found Yancy curled up in one of the spare rooms with nothing more than a worn blanket and ratty pillow. He was shivering and looked terrified when Dark walked into the room.

"Yancy, what are you doing in here?" Dark questioned walking over to the ex-convict slowly, Yancy didn’t answer, just curled into a tighter ball, pulling his thin blanket around him more, trying to hide as Dark walked closer. It took Dark a few seconds to realise this wasn’t their version of Yancy but a different version. If the lack of scars on his arms and the brown leather collar he was wearing.

It had two D-rings on either side and a thin rectangular box held in place by another leather band. Dark knew he had to be careful, he didn’t want Yancy panicking, particularly if he, like their version had wings. He had seen the sort of damage Yancy’s wings could do to someone.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll do a better job next time, I promise, I'll do anything you want, can I please go back to my cell," SC Yancy pleaded, his voice a horse whisper. Dark felt sick and his resolve to kill Warden Murder-Slaughter in a very painful way got stronger. It seemed the Warden was only a respectable person in one universe, in the rest he was an abusive arsehole who put Yancy (and likely the other inmates) through hell.

Despite being in charge of looking after and providing for them during their stay in Happy Trails State Penitentiary.

"You have nothing to apologise for. You're safe now," Dark reassured, kneeling next to SC Yancy gently pulling him into a hug, the young ego tensed though soon relaxed when Dark started to run his back and hum softly. SC Yancy soon slumped against the person holding him, feeling safe for the first time in a very long time.

He was finding it harder and harder to do so and soon fell asleep against the man. He had no idea how he ended up in this room, he had been in solitary with nothing more than a blanket and pillow. The room was always cold, the blanket being nowhere near thick enough anymore to be even remotely warm, but it was something.

He leaned more into the man holding him, they were warm and solid and far more comfortable than the ground.

He tried to keep his eyes open but was finding progressively harder to do and soon fell asleep. Dark stared down at SC Yancy and sighed sadly wondering what sort of hell his version of the Warden had put him through. He smiled when he felt the soft brush of feathers against his arms and gently started to comb his finger through the unseen feathers.

He clicked his fingers and warm and fluffy blanket appeared and he carefully wrapped it around SC Yancy and picked him up and walked out of the room, ensuring the ego in his arms remained asleep wasn’t’ difficult as he walked into one of the spare bedrooms. Yancy was about to start drinking his coffee when the tattoo on his right hand started to burn and tingle.

He put his cup down, closed his eyes and held his hand, breathing through the pain, hoping it would pass soon. Before he went on parole and come to the manor he had no idea what his knuckle tattoos burning and tingling meant but he did now. Dark was angry about something. He traced Dark’s name, hoping it would calm the entity down. It only worked some of the time depending on how upset he was.

Finding out Yancy from another universe had appeared in one of the unused rooms wasn’t exactly a shock but it expected either. They had visitors from different universes all the time. It was something they were used to. It took a few days for the ‘Main’ egos to finally SC Yancy, when they did, they noticed the differences right away. SC Yancy wasn’t as muscular as Yancy nor was he as tan.

He has the same tattoos as Yancy, but they were different somehow, standing out more against his pale skin. He had brown leather cuffs around his wrists. The way he held himself was different as well. Even though he wasn't hunched like Eric was when he first arrived, he was still noticeably shorter than Yancy.

It was only when Yancy got up and stood next to him did they realise it was because he was younger than Yancy which was mind-bending and confusing but something they had gotten used to.

"How can he look younger than you?" Ed questioned staring at the two-winged men, readjusting his hat when the slight wind from Yancy’s fluttering wings made it tilt over his eyes. It had taken them a while to get used to Yancy having wings and the unique problems that come with that. Thankfully Yancy’s wings were often intangible making things easier though there was almost always a slight breeze from his wings flapping and fluttering.

Yancy laughed, shaking his head as he walked over to the fridge. His wings continued to shift and flutter. They flared briefly as he started to rummage around in the fridge trying to find something. It was easy to read Yancy’s mood if his wings were visible. It had taken them a while to understand how Yancy’s wings reacted to his moods. The near-constant breeze had taken some getting used to.

"I'm only 34, I’m not that young," SC Yancy replied staring at Ed, he looked remarkably like Eric when he was annoyed with them. SC Yancy looked like he was maybe a year or two older than Eric. The younger ego had stopped hunch so much after Google had given new prosthetics. It was startling to realise just how many of Eric mannerisms were dictated by his prosthetics.

"That would mean youse are 13 years younger than me and 11 years into youse 24 year stay at that Hell Hole people call Happy Trails Penitentiary," Yancy commented absentmindedly as he dug around in the fridge trying to find something. His wings puffed up in annoyance as he moved things around, he leaned more into it. They had found their fridge could a ridiculous amount of food.

It was bigger on the inside, much like the TARDIS, except for food. Ed, Google, Eric, Bim, King, CJ, RJ, Host, Reynolds, Dark and Wilford stared at Yancy as he finally pulled what appeared to be cupcakes from somewhere in the fridge. Bim frowned, he didn’t remember baking any cupcakes recently. The plate of cupcakes were frosted and much bigger than the ones Bim usually made. Reynold's eyes lit up as soon as he saw them.

"Yancy, that doesn't explain how he looks younger than you," Bim stated, Yancy, closed the fridge with his hip and turned to face them, one cupcake already in his mouth. Eric had to stop himself from laughing at the sight. Yancy glared at Eric, holding the plat closer to him when Eric started to make grabby hands. Bim had to stifle his laughter when Eric pouted, crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

He really was too cute.

"I may look 30 but I'm 47. I tend to look younger than I am," Yancy explained munching on the cupcake. Eric lost his battle and started to laugh at the shocked look on everyone’s face. A lot of people had always said he looked a lot like his brother. He had no idea what they had meant. He didn’t look anything like his brothers. The only person he looked like was Yan.

"It’s true. Yan looked like he was 23 when he was 18 and 18 when he was 23. It was hilarious. Hand over the cupcakes. You can't hog them all to yourself," Reynolds answered holding out a hand for a cupcake only for Yancy to glare at him. Bing had noticed how possessive and protective Yancy was of anything given to him, be it blankets, clothes or food. He wanted to know why but didn’t want to find out at the same time.

“No, it wasn’t Voorhees, it was beyond irritating.  People generally don’t believe them when someone who looks like their 18 and should be in school that there is something seriously wrong with their car. I can and I will,” Yancy snapped, Reynolds sighed, shaking his head knowing it was hopeless to try and get food off of Yancy.

If he had thought Yancy was protective of possessive of his food and bedding before he went to prison, it had nothing on when he got out.

Reynolds had always put it down to Yancy having 13 younger brothers and having to put up with them stealing his food and bedding but hadn’t thought much of it after that. It was only after Dark and Matthew had rescued him did he start to suspect the Warden had taken away his food and bedding at times as a form of punishment when Yancy did something wrong.

The thought of Yancy got getting anything to eat or having to make do with a very thin blanket in a very cold cell made something cold settle in Reynolds stomach. He knew the Warden abused Yancy not only physically but emotionally and mentally.

Playing with Yancy's expectations, saying he would punish Yancy for doing something wrong one time and not punish him and then punishing him the next time he broke a 'rule' (whether known or unknown) even though he said he wouldn't. It had seriously messed with Yancy's head. He never believed anyone when they said he 'wasn't in trouble' because of the Warden's treatment.

Reynolds knew from Eric had told him of his eight-month stay in Happy Trails Penitentiary that the inmates were only allowed a certain amount of food for each meal. If they did something wrong their food would be restricted or they would be given more if they had been good. He had mentioned or more than one occasion that the Warden would often restrict how much Yancy could eat for weeks at a time.

Forcing him to rely on the other inmates to get him enough food. Then there were times where he was given more than he could handle but he ate it anyway because he had no idea when he would next get to eat that much. It was horrible and depressing but explained why Yancy, for his first week at the manor and after he had come back from Happy Trails would eat a large amount of food faster than a normal person.

Even though Yancy knew he was going to getting another meal, Dark had repeatedly reassured him he would never be hungry while he was in the manor, he still did it anyway because he wasn't convinced Dark would actually let him eat during the next meal. It was something they had learned after Dark and Matthew had retrieved him from Happy Trails after he disappeared.

The cautiously hopeful look on his face when Will had given him some bread and soup (he hadn't eaten much during his three-week disappearance thus couldn't stomach much rich food) was heartbreaking. He acted like he expected Dark to take away his meal at any minute something Reynolds was sure the Warden had done to Yancy.

Thus he learned how to quickly eat his food so the Warden wouldn't have the chance to take it away from him. SC YAncy appeared to have been treated the same but on a more severe level. He would eat his food as quickly as possible but not as for more even though it was clear he was still hungry and wanted more but was afraid to ask.

Very afraid. Yancy had been nervous and cautious about asking but he had never been outright afraid to ask for more of anything.

“Do you want some more?” Wilford questioned when he saw SC Yancy staring at the stew. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something when he stiffened, he eyes widened and his wings appeared flapping and fluttering. He stumped after two minutes, his wings folded against his back, shivering. Not once in those two minutes had his hands moved from the table, or did he make a sound.

He was shivering, his wings and arms would occasionally jerk.

“N-no, I-I’m not hungry,” SC Yancy answered, his voice horse and thin, Wilford knew it was a lie. He knew SC Yancy was still hungry and wanted more food but wasn't going to ask for anymore. A bread roll appeared on his plat, he went to reach for it but stiffened again, it last longer this time. Each time he tried to reach for the bread roll he was offered.

Each episode lasted long and long, he eventually let out a painful sounding whine and started to tug and scratch at the collar around his neck.

Soon enough the scratch marks started to bleed. Yancy stalked over to CJ and RJ when he heard them giggling and grabbed the black remote they were holding and switched it off. SC Yancy slumped against the table sobbing a little. CJ and RJ looked alarmed when they found themselves staring up at a clearly very pissed off Yancy, his wings flared out on him either side of him making him look bigger and threatening.

“What do you think you’re doing and where did you find this?” Yancy demanded, holding the black remote like the thing was going to bite him, the twins grabbed the remote and pressed something before darting out of the room. SC Yancy let out a pained whine, his fingernails digging into his neck, his legs kicked against the chair.

Yancy growled and crushed the remote, SC Yancy slumped, tears leaking from his eyes as he stared at the table. Yancy walked over to the younger convict and easily removed the collar revealing what appeared to be two strange dots on the side of his neck along with what looked like scratch and cut marks.

He flinched when Yancy touched his neck and unbuckled the collar. He removed the trap holding the rectangular box and throwing it in the trash before putting the collar back on gently though not before putting tissue between the collar and cleaning and bandaging the scratches before putting the collar back on.

“What the hell is that thing?” Eric questioned staring at the strange collar. The look on Yancy's face was frankly scary. SC Yancy flinch and looked like he wanted to pull away but didn't. He wrapped his arms around his waist and seemed to curl into a little ball. It was painful. Wilford wanted to give SC Yancy lots of hugs.

A cold feeling settled in his stomach when he saw the blank look on Yancy's face.

He had improved a great deal since Dark and Matthew had gotten back from Happy Trails Penitentiary. He didn't act like that very often, but it was jarring when it did happen. It was almost like he was a completely different person. He acted a lot like Richard. Reynolds had mentioned that was how Yancy had acted before he had gone to prison.

The timidness as a result of Derek's treatment of him and his time at Happy Trails State Penitentiary

“That, Eric, is a shock collar. Come on, those scratches need to be clean out,” Yancy answered flatly before grabbing a few bread rolls, pulling SC Yancy out of his seat and out of the kitchen, likely heading up to his room which had its own bathroom. As he led younger convict out of the room Wilford and had noticed the cuffs around his ankles.

Sharing a worried wondering how much Murder-Slaughter had abused this version of Yancy as he stumbled, his legs not working correctly, Yancy sighed and wrapped an arm around his waist as he led the younger prisoner to his room. SC Yancy stared in shock when he was led into a nice-looking room with dark walls, extremely soft carpet and a huge bed.

He flinched a little as he was led into the bathroom and his collar was removed again and the scratches were cleaned again, bandages were wrapped around his neck, but the collar wasn't put back on.

“He’s not going to hurt you again, not if Dark and Matthew can do anything about it. They not going to stop you from eating,” Yancy reassured after he walked back into his bedroom with a spare set of clothes. The younger convict took the clothes with a smile and quickly changed, trying to stop his limbs from shaking. it was embarrassing that he even needed help at all.  

“A-are y-you sure?” SC Yancy questioned, his voice thin and horse thanks to the shock collar. Yancy nodded, dragging him over to the huge bed. The growled when he saw the cuffs around SC Yancy's tights and just under his knees and knew exactly what it was for, knowing his version of the Warden likely chained him up, either to his bed or in solitary using the collar and the cuffs.

He crawled into bed and pulled the 34-year-old into a hug, encouraging him to curl against his chest as he wrapped his wings around him, completely covering him.

“Quite sure. They’re not like the Warden.  They do care about us. You might not be from this universe but while you’re here your safe,” Yancy replied shifting a little as the younger man got more comfortable, his arms trapped between his and Yancy's chest. SC Yancy looked up at him, it was strange seeing his own face looking down at him yet not recognising it.

“S-So I won -won’t be tied up every night?” SC Yancy asked timidly sighing and snuggling closer when Yancy just nodded. The Warden used his collar and cuffs to tie him to his bed every night. He was unable to move or stop anyone from doing what they wish to him if they entered his cell. He was usually tied up with his back facing the bars.

He learned to eat all the food given to him as quickly as possible before the Warden or the guards got impatient. He never asked for more, if he did then he would be shocked. The other inmates had taken to feeding him when the guards weren't looking knowing they were allowed to eat as much as they wanted.

Yancy was the only with the food restriction. He knew he would never escape Happy Trails State Penitentiary. The Warden would never let his pet go no matter how much he begged and pleaded. He was just thankful he still had his wings. He had no idea what he would have done if the Warden had removed them.

He had noticed the scars and bite marks on Yancy's arms and couldn't help but wonder where they had come from but didn't dare ask, he didn't want Yancy angry with him. He knew very well what he was like when he was angry.

CJ and RJ were alarmed when they were dragged to the meeting by Dark's aura. They had no idea why the 'Main' egos were upset with them and knew as soon as Dark started asking questions that they had blacked out again. It had been happening more frequently recently. Dark did not look pleased when they told him they didn't remember leaving their room to go to breakfast.

They didn't want to hurt anyone and yet it somehow kept happening. From hurting Prince to tying Yancy to a chair and leaving in a cold dark room for hours and now they had electrocuted a badly abused version of Yancy, it didn't matter that he was from another universe. It was alarming but they had no idea how to stop it.

It was like they were puppets and there was nothing they could do but dance to their master's tune.

SC Yancy jerked awake in the middle of the night, he didn't remember falling asleep. It was dark and warm which immediately had him on alert, his cell was never warm. He couldn't move, whatever was wrapped around him was tight but not uncomfortable. He tried not to panic but it was impossible, he thought he had finally escaped but he could still feel his collar and cuffs.

Whatever was holding tightened when he started to struggle. He stopped when he felt something pressing against his face and opened his eyes to a dimly lit room when he felt the warm weight move off him and saw his own face staring back at him. It took him a few seconds to realise where he was and he relaxed knowing he was safe but he could still feel his collar and cuffs.

"Hey, calm down, your safe now. He'll pay for what he did,"

Note: There done. Only a little over half of this story is edited. I'll edit the rest tomorrow. This chapter is 3,422 words and 5 pages long. 

After editing its 3,530 words and 6 pages long. I will be doing a sequel to this mostly SC Yancy and Yancy grooming each other's wings and snuggling.SC Yancy gets lots of hugs.

[oldxsoulsx]

Cold - Zuckles OneShot p.2

Here it is, part 2! I really had fun writing this one (; It’s hella long, but I’m not sorry!

You woke with a start, heart beating out of your chest. You were getting really sick of waking up this way. 

You heard soft voices downstairs, and you throw back your covers. Standing, you grab your slippers and put them on, grabbing a hoodie as well to throw on over top of your t-shirt. 

Making your way downstairs, you see Mason in the corner of the kitchen, arms crossed and grumpy. Both Toby and Matt were cooking breakfast, which was a sight to see. Toby never cooked, only ordered from Postmates or went out to eat. 

“Matt, how do I know if it’s done?” Toby asked him, panic in his voice. Matt sighed, obviously annoyed with the shorter boy. You smile, making your way over. 

“See the browning around the edges? How the top of the pancake has started to set? Put your spatula under it and see if it’ll move and then flip it,” you say softly, placing a hand on Toby’s shoulder to try and calm him. 

“Flip it?! I can’t do that!” Toby whined, giving you pleading eyes. You roll yours, a teasing smile playing on your lips. 

“I’ll do this one for you. But you’re doing the next one. You can’t let a pancake beat you down, Toby,” you giggle, nudging him with your hip as you grab the spatula out of his hand. With ease, you flip it, smiling triumphantly. 

“See?” You ask, handing the utensil back to the boy “Not so hard. Next one I wanna see you do it.” 

“Thank you, (Y/N). You’re a lifesaver!” Toby exclaims, giving you a big hug and placing a playful kiss on the top of your head. 

All of a sudden, you hear a big bang coming from behind you. You turn around and see Mason gone, his door shut. 

“What’s his issue?” Matt asks, cracking eggs into a warm pan. You shrug, remembering the conversation from last night but not wanting to give them any detail. 

“No idea. He always acts like this when I’m around,” you mumble, a slight blush appearing on your face. Toby nods. 

“Yeah, because he’s in love with you,” He says softly, making sure Mason wouldn’t be able to hear. He takes the now fully-cooked pancake from the pan, giving you a big smile. 

“Good job, Toby. Do the next ones. I’ll be outside,” You say, contemplating what Toby had mentioned seconds prior. 

“But… don’t you wanna watch me do it?” He asks, and you chuckle. 

“I know you can, I have faith. Don’t rush it, take your time. It’ll turn out perfect,” You say, before making your way to the back patio. 

You remove your slippers and sit on the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the water that was warming from the sun's heat. 

It was a shock to hear what Toby had to say, but not too much of a shock that you didn’t think it was true. You kept thinking about Mason, the way you two actually spoke like you were friends the night prior. 

And he wanted more than friends. 

You bit your lip, mind flooding with thoughts of the Australian boy. His accent that you thought was absolutely adorable, the smile he got when he was joking around with his friends. His eyes seemed so caring a lot of the time, when he was actually sober that is. 

You wondered if, even after he talked to you last night, he’d make any attempt to follow up with that conversation. You hoped he would, but you didn’t want to be one of his ‘flings’ that he brings home, and kicks out in the morning. 

You swing your feet in the water as you hear the door open behind you. Toby’s standing there, proudly. 

“Breakfast is ready. C’mon! We never have a family breakfast! Cams coming over, I’ll wake up Jay and Eric and get Mason,” He says, turning around and walking back into the house. 

You sit for a couple more seconds, shaking the intruding thoughts from your mind before standing up and making your way inside. 

Cam was already at the table, as was Jay and Matt. Eric was trudging down the steps with an excited Toby behind him. All we needed was Mason. 

You take a seat next to Cam, flicking his ear. 

“Good morning, dummy,” You say cheekily, grinning. He rolls his eyes, nudging you. 

“Good morning, bitch,” Cam retorts, playfully glaring at you. 

Once the rest of the gang joined the table, Mason sitting the furthest from you, you all dug in. 

“So what’re the plans for today?” Jay asks, munching on a slice of bacon. 

“I was thinking bar. Guys night, sorry (Y/N). You all in?” Eric pipes in, and the others make approving sounds with mouthfuls of food. 

“Nah, not me. I’m staying in tonight,” Mason says, picking at his toast. The others stare at him like he had grown a second head. 

“No? What, not gonna bring a bitch home and keep everyone up all night?” Matt asks with a smirk on his face. Everyone chuckles, earning a glare from Mason. 

“No, I’m not. I don’t wanna fucking do that anymore, man,” Mason snaps, and everyone becomes silent. They realize he’s not joking, and an awkward silence falls over the group. 

“Well,” Cam cuts in after a few moments “When we come home I don’t want to see you two trying to kill each other.” 

“That’s not going to happen. I have a lot of editing to do anyways,” You say softly, taking a bite of your pancake. You immediately make a face, and spit it out. It’s all soft and runny in the middle. 

“You didn’t wait for it to brown on the edges, did you Toby,” you asked accusingly, earning a laugh from the rest of the group. 

___________________________________

The boys had been gone for over an hour, and you quietly sat on the couch, editing your video with a show playing softly in the background. 

“What’re you watching?” you hear from behind you, and turn to see Mason standing there awkwardly. You smile softly, scooting over on the couch to make room. 

“Ah, and he emerges,” You tease as he sits down, earning you a playful glare. “Friends, I’ve seen them all before countless times so I know it’s one show I won’t get distracted by while trying to edit.” 

“If you need quiet time, I can leave,” Mason says, playing with his fingers. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I needed to take a break. My eyes are burning,” you say, shutting your laptop and placing it on the table. “So, whats up?” 

Mason takes a deep breath, avoiding your eyes. “About last night… if it came across as weird or awkward I’m sorry. And if you don’t feel the same way, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t keep it in any longer, I was going crazy,” He does a short half-laugh at the end. 

You’re silent for a second. “Don’t be sorry, Mace,” you say, “It’s not a bad thing to have feelings for someone, and-”

“But it’s a bad thing to have feelings for someone that doesn’t like you back,” Mason interrupts, running a hand through his hair. You giggle a bit, and he looks at you worriedly. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?” You ask, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Masons eyes widen, realization setting in. 

“Wait… you do?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Yeah, I have for a while. And since I’ve gotten here I’ve tried to push the feelings away, I thought you didn’t even like me as a person. But last night-”

You’re interrupted with a hard kiss, Masons hand immediately going to your face. The kiss was rough but he held your face so delicately, it made you melt. 

Pulling away, he looks at you with a smile on his face. 

“I’ve always liked you. I’m sorry I treated you so horribly,” He says, grabbing your hand. 

“You know, it’s really hard to accept an apology when the person apologizing has a massive grin,” You tease, and he laughs. 

He leans in again, slowly this time, connecting your lips again. It’s a kiss filled with passion and love, and there’s no better way to describe it than breathtaking. 

He climbs on top of you, running his fingers through your hair while expertly moving his mouth with your own. Pulling away from the kiss, he trails kisses from your cheek to your neck, finding your sweet spot. 

Mason continues to attack your neck with his mouth, leaving you a moaning mess underneath him. His free hand slips under your hoodie, grabbing at your bare waist. 

“When I said try not to kill each other, I wasn’t saying do the exact opposite of that,” You hear from the door, and break away to find the rest of the guys plus Anna standing there shocked. 

“I- uh…” Mason coughs, sitting up. “What’re you guys doing home?” 

“There was a fight at the bar. It got so bad that they shut it down…” Matt says slowly, unable to take his eyes off of the blushing faces of you and Mason. 

“Oh damn, that sucks,” You say nonchalantly, and grab your laptop. “Well I gotta finish editing. See ya!” You say, quickly making your way up to your room. 

You feel euphoric, a buzz going through your body as you remember the kiss with Mason. It felt so… right. 

You hear the boys grilling the poor Aussie downstairs, and decide to put headphones on to finish the last bit of editing you had to do. 

An hour later, you were almost done when a hand yanks off your headphones. You jump, seeing Mason standing behind you with your headphones in hand. Your face reddens when you see the lustful look in his eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask softly, knowing the answer. He tosses your headphones to the side, grabbing your waist and moving you to your bed. 

“Let’s finish what we started, yeah?”

[gallymagines]

Make Me Remember - Gally x Reader Part 12

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Cuteness (but like for real none)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Ben’s POV:

Waking up I wonder to myself if everything went well last night. I hope it did because I don’t know how much longer the rest of the gladers and I can put up with ticking time bomb Gally. Leaving my resting spot by the gardens I make my way over to the homestead for breakfast. I usually go wake up Gally for breakfast, although it’s not like he's a heavy sleeper. Heading into the sleeping area I hope that he’s feeling better. When I look around the room he’s not there. He’s not in his bed, he’s not even walking around. Where could he have gone? Shrugging my shoulders I leave the sleeping area and go into the kitchen to grab some food.  When I enter I see Gally sitting at our table. Please be in a good mood, please be in a good mood, please be in a good mood. I finally make it to the table to sit down and he monotonously says,

“I’ll get our plates.”

As he gets up and heads over to get breakfast I see that Y/N walked into the kitchen. I watch as she makes her way over to get food. She turns her head to give me a wave but as she does that she bumps right into Gally. You can hear people suck in their breath as they wait for Gally to explode. Please...don’t.

“Oh, sorry Gally!” Y/N apologizes

Gally looks at her intensely. Oh no...It didn’t go well. I hold my breath hoping for the yelling to be over as quick as it comes. Instead of yelling though I hear laughter,

“Don’t worry about it!” Gally cheerfully replies “Hungry?”

Y/N nods her head yes and they walk together to get their food. The whole kitchen lets out their breaths and I relax a bit. I guess things did go well! Once the realization that he wouldn’t explode at Y/N sets in, a general feeling of confusion washes over the kitchen. How could he be so carefree when just yesterday he had been yelling at anyone who barely grazed him? I know how. Gladers watch as they walk up to the cooks to get their food together smiling and talking when only a day before they couldn’t even look at each other. Eric gets up from the table the other builders sit at and approaches me. Leaning down next to me he asks,

“What’s up with Gally? Is he like, not going to kill us today?”

“Uh, I’m not sure what’s up with him, to tell you the truth,” I say

I lied. 

Maybe it wasn’t quite obvious to everyone else yet, but Gally and Y/N definitely have something. I’m not sure what it is yet, but it’s something alright. Eric leaves to go back to his table and the pair make their way over here. Gally hands me my plate before sitting down next to Y/N to eat.

“Well, I’m glad to see the two of you are best friends again.” I comment “I don’t know how much longer we would’ve survived if you guys didn’t make-up. I mean Gally probably would’ve started killing people by day seven.”

“Oh no, I missed out on sacrifices in my name?” Y/N says sarcastically “Gally we can’t be friends anymore.”

“What! No!” I exaggeratedly cry out 

“Stop it, you’re scaring him.” Gally jokes giving Y/N a little shove

They share a glance and a laugh. It’s nice to see Gally happy. After the chaos of the last couple of days, I’m happy to know he’s not going to have an explosion of anger every 5 minutes. It’s also good that now something brings him happiness other than kicking the klunk out of gladers. The three of us enjoy our breakfast together but before long it’s time to go to work. We all get up and exit the kitchen. Y/N gives us one last goodbye, well gives Gally one last goodbye, before heading to the gardens. He watches her walk away before we head to the project we’ve been working on. As we walk towards the other builders I say,

“So I see everything went according to plan last night.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me know you shank.” He remarks

“Oh, If I had let you in on what was happening you never would’ve gone!” I exclaim

“You’re right, you’re right.” He says putting his hands up

“I’m just glad you two are best friends again,” I comment

“Why did you say best friends like that?”

“Like what?” I ask “I don’t know what you mean.”

I did know what he meant.

“Nevermind.” He replies waving it off

When we finally get to the rest of the builders they look worried about what’s in store for today. With all of them wide-eyed, Gally says,

“We’ve made some good progress but let’s get to work.”

Things are getting better in the glade. I can sense it.

***

Newt’s POV:

I had been working a lot more closely with Y/N in the gardens and though it had only been a couple of days I noticed a drastic shift in her demeanor. Ever since she and Gally started hanging out at meals again the light in her eyes not only came back but it grew brighter each day. It was nice, and a welcome turn around compared to what it was 6 days ago. As we worked side by side picking vegetables I noticed her eyes wander from the beds of plants in front of her towards where the homestead is. I’ve noticed that she does this all the time now, especially when it gets closer to dinner. At first, I thought it was because she was just hungry or tired but I realized the pattern quickly. Once the dinner bell calls Gally leaves the builders to pick her up from the gardens and they head to dinner together.

“Not too much longer love,” I say to her

“Huh?” She questions

“The dinner bell. I’ve noticed that you get awfully anxious for it every day.” I reply

“I don’t know what you mean.” She states with a tone that says ‘I do know but I refuse to admit it’

“Mhmm sure,” I remark

Y/N turns back to her work and putting vegetables in her basket. She picked a lot today. After working a bit longer the dinner bell rings. Y/N’s head snaps so fast toward the direction of the homestead that I thought it might fly right off. And just like clockwork, I could see a group of gladers head to the kitchen for dinner and one of them start walking toward the gardens. Y/N and I stand up and grab our baskets. I easily pick mine up but Y/N has some trouble lifting hers. I think she may have picked too many vegetables today. As I continue to watch her try to lift the basket, a voice behind us says,

“Here I got it.”

It’s Gally, of course.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Y/N tries to convince him

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He replies

I observe their interaction. She watches as he bends over to pick up the basket, her eyes following his every movement. When he stands up straight his posture is tall and his shoulders a squared back. Gally also holds the vegetable basket in such a way that it makes his arm muscles strain and flex. I can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not but I see that Y/N notices. It was a blink and you’ll miss moment, but for a quick second her eyes leave from looking at him and go towards his upper arms. Before he can notice though she looks back at him and nudges him playfully towards the homestead. Slowly, I trail behind them continuing to watch them like some sort of scientist. I’ve honestly started to fancy observing them. I’ve never seen interactions like theirs before. At least from my experience in the glade and from what I can remember. They’re...different. As we all entered the kitchen we dropped off the baskets of vegetables and I continued my “study”. I quickly grabbed a plate and sat down at a table that was near their regular one. I watched as together they grabbed their dinner for the night, Gally grabbing his first but waiting until Y/N had hers to even consider walking. They walked almost shoulder to shoulder to the table and sat on the same side. I leaned in more to make sure I could see every little detail because this was just so intriguing to me. Just then Minho approaches and asks,

“What are you doing?”

“Shhhh...” I say waving him down

Minho sits down next to me but not before replying,

“I don’t know why you’re waving me to like duck down or something. We are in an open space, filled with people. You know that right?”

“Yes, now bloody slim it,” I command

He rolls his eyes and starts to munch down on his meal as I go back to work. I see the two specimens laughing together. As Gally starts to calm down Y/N continues to laugh. She reaches out and grabs Gally’s upper arm and with that, he immediately assumes a more strong posture again. Chest forward, shoulder back, chin up. I take note of the fact that the shank is definitely trying to make himself look bigger. What I didn’t expect to take note of was the emotion in their eyes as they looked at each other. It was gentle, genuine and full of something else that I couldn’t quite place. A bit of hair falls in front of Y/N’s eyes and without hesitation as if the movement was already ingrained into his brain, Gally reaches up and pushes the strand behind her ear. Her eyes widen a bit before she quickly turns her head away. A smile graces her lips and a light pink tint appears on her cheeks. Quietly she says,

“Thank you, Captain,” 

“You’re welcome Princess,” He replies gently

Captain? Princess? What a discovery. I didn’t even think we were at the nickname level. What else is there to learn? Pulling myself out of my thoughts I go back to the two subjects of mine. Y/N is still faced away but Gally’s eyes are locked on her. There’s a light smile on his face. And then there’s that emotion in his eyes again but I think I know what it is. Adoration. The rest of the dinner goes just as any other would. Dinner is finished, plates are given to the sloppers to clean and people start heading to where they sleep. From the homestead I see Gally walk to drop Y/N off at her hut. Their hands at their sides gently brushing against each other as they walk. When they arrive at her space they turn to look at each other and I assume they say goodnight. They watch each other for a while before Y/N turns into her room and closes the door. Gally throws his hands in his pockets and rolls back and forth on his feet before making his way back over here. I decide that I watched them enough for tonight and head into the sleeping area of the homestead before Gally can see me. When I get to my bed I see Minho standing there with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. 

“What have you been doing? Lately, all I see is you constantly looking towards Y/N’s direction. Do you have a crush on her or something?” He asks

“No, no! She’s lovely and all but I only have platonic feelings for her.” I reply

“Mhmm, so why do you keep looking her way?” He questions further

I see Gally walk into the room and I reply to Minho.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

***

Minho’s POV:

Ever since the moment Newt explained to me why he was constantly watching Y/N, I couldn’t stop watching either. He was right when he said that if you weren’t really looking you would never really see, but that was 7 days ago. Now you didn’t have to look too hard to see the way Y/N and Gally interacted with each other. It was unlike the way they treated or acted with others in the glade. Whenever they were allowed to be together they were inseparable. They were always the first people to show up for breakfast and dinner and the last people to leave. They literally only spend time apart because Alby’s rule says they have to. That wasn’t the worst part though. Gally has become super protective of Y/N when it comes to simple interactions with other gladers. Like insanely protective and he’s practically insane, to begin with. No matter who she’s talking to, they either get a death stare from across the glade, a yelling in person or if it’s close to meal time he’ll come up to the conversation and physically put himself in between the two. If you asked me, I’d say it’s some kind of jealousy issue. I was determined to prove I was right though. Walking over to where they sit for breakfast I slide myself across from Y/N next to Ben. They all give me quizzical looks but I ignore them and go on. 

“Good morning Y/N, you’re looking beautiful today.” I compliment

“I look like this every day.” She replies

“That’s the point. You’re always beautiful, at least to me.” I say with a wink

“Did you get stung by a griever or something? You’re a bit too cheerful this morning for my liking.” She retorts, disgust in her tone

“Nope. Not stung, just absolutely floored by your beauty!” I cheerfully state

“Uh huh.” She says rolling her eyes

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gally start to inch closer to her. I decide to go on. 

“You know what Y/N?” I ask

“What.” She deadpans

“There are just so many things to admire about you other than your immense beauty.” I start “You’re kind and sweet, and tough, and you have those beautiful eyes.”

“My eyes are a physical feature. You said other than my beauty and yet you still can’t follow through.” She quips

“I’m just so forgetful because of how much you brighten up the glade. You brighten up my life and it makes me forget what I’m saying.” I try to come back

It doesn’t really matter how I may have messed up though because I’m getting results. Gally is practically by her side at this point and glaring bullets into my head. I know I need to do just a little more. I say,

“Y/N I think we should start hanging out more often like this. You know, just you and me and nobody else.”

“Well-” Y/N starts but is cut off

“Who shucking cares what you think Minho?! Nobody! That’s who!” Gally starts to yell

Others in the kitchen look this way and as Gally continues he wraps an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

“If you couldn’t tell she’s doesn’t like you, she’s never liked you, and she’s never going to like you so slim it and back off her!” Gally finishes yelling

I was right. Not needing anything more, I get up and remark,

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“Your cue was 5 responses ago.” Y/N retorts

As I’m about to leave I try to approach Y/N to apologize but before I can get any closer Gally stands up, puts himself between me and her, and crosses his arms. With his eyebrows angrily furrowed and a look that could kill on his face, I walk away before he actually does kill me. At least I have my answer. He’s jealous as all hell. I give my plate to the sloppers and head out of the kitchen ready to run.

***

After dinner, I decided to stay outside and just look up at the sky for a bit longer while everyone went to bed. I got bored of it after a while though and when that happened I finally started my walk to my bed in the homestead. As I get closer though I see a figure leave and make their way towards the deadheads. When I get inside the sleeping area I see that there is only one empty bed. Gally’s. I don’t know what he’s doing but my first instinct is to get others to go and follow him with me. I wake up Newt and Alby and instruct them to wait at the homestead until I get Ben from where he sleeps by the gardens. Once the four of us are together we all head towards the deadheads to see why he’s leaving in the middle of the night.

Gally’s POV:

Leaving the homestead I can’t help but think to myself about what happened today with Minho. He wasn't just trying to be near her. No, he was flirting with her. Flirting! He can’t do that. I won’t let him. I mean all he is, is trouble. He doesn’t even know Y/N, let alone care about her.  I mean what if he’s flirting with her to make her feel good before knocking her down and telling her she’s not? What if he’s being a slinthead out to play with her feelings and hurt her? What if all he wants to do is to make her feel like klunk? I can't let that happen. I won’t let that happen. She’s my best friend, she’s my princess, and it is MY job to make sure she is safe and doesn’t get hurt. Ben is the only other glader that I trust enough to be around her. I know he’s not going to hurt her and anyway he already told me he doesn't feel that way about her so he’s not a threat. Not that like other gladers are threats it’s just like I don’t trust their intentions with her. She’s a kind and caring person and I’d destroy the whole damn glade if some shank every upset her or made her feel bad. I mean I practically started to wreck the glade when I made her feel bad. I just really care about her and I’m not going to let anyone hurt her. As I continue walking I can spot the lantern light at the center opening in the deadheads. She’s already there. When I finally get to the clearing I see her sitting in her white dress looking at the stars. The light of the moon making her face glow. I approach her and she moves her eyes from the sky to me. She pats the ground next to her and I sit down. Turning her attention back to the stars, she asks me,

“What was all of that about with Minho today?”

“Nothing. I was just keeping him in his place.” I reply factually

More like keeping it in his pants...

“Okay, it’s just that you’ve been getting a bit irritated with some of the other gladers lately. I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about anything.” She mentions

“No, I’m fine,” I say

“You’re not stressed or anything?” she pries

I am stressed. I’m stressed about these other gladers doing anything to hurt her, but I’m also stressed about the complete opposite. What if one of them makes her so happy that she leaves me. We were best friends before the glade and we are again now. I’m stressed that I could lose my best friend again, but this time I’d remember it. I don’t want that to happen...

“I am stressed,” I say nodding my head yes

“I have a solution,” she starts

Y/N POV:

“Dance with me,” I say, finishing my statement

“What?” He asks

“A couple days ago when I was getting really stressed in the gardens, I had a memory and remembered that dancing helped me not worry so much. Maybe it’ll help you too.” I state

“You didn’t tell me you remembered something.” He comments “Did you get in trouble for stopping your work?”

“It didn’t seem relevant to bring it up and no I played it off like I was confused about how to harvest carrots. You’re avoiding what I’m saying though,” I reply

I stand up and extend a hand down towards him as he rolls his eyes. Slowly he grabs my hand and gets up after me. He shifts nervously while biting his lip.

“Well, how can we dance if there’s no music?” He protests looking away from me

“Like this,” I reply

I wrap my left arm around his neck and my right arm around his back. He doesn’t move at first but gently he wraps his right arm around my waist but uses his left to grab my arm from his back. Slowly, his hand slides from my forearm to my hand as he softly intertwines his fingers with mine. We stand still under the light of the moon for a second before we start to gently sway back and forth. I can feel as Gally relaxes. He lets his shoulders fall and lets his posture become less frigid. Closing my eyes I rest my head against him. As I listen to the sound of his heartbeat with one ear and feel a shock by the other. I have a good guess of what just happened but I keep my eyes shut a bit longer. I still feel my head resting though. Maybe the device didn’t go off. I carefully open my eyes and see a barely lit room full of pipes and cleaning supplies. I guess it did. My head looks around a bit and sees many people, some I recognize and some I don’t. Over in a corner to my right are younger looking versions Newt and Minho. My head looks to the left and I see a dark-haired boy and girl dancing with each other. I don’t recognize them though. My head then moves back forward and looks up. I’d know those green eyes anywhere. Gally. Somehow it’s a surprise and not a surprise to me that we’ve danced before. There’s a pink flush on this younger Gally’s cheeks as he looks down to me and asks,

“So uh...you don’t mind dancing like...well like this with me do you?”

“Do I mind slow dancing with you? Of course not! I’d rather dance with you then one of those clowns.” I reply, my head gesturing to the corner

“Oh...oh that’s good. I like dancing with you too.” He says

Gally looks towards the corner of guys and makes eye contact with Newt. Newt gives him some kind of nod and Gally slowly turns his attention back to me.

“Uh hey...princess?” He asks softly

“Yeah, Captain Gally?” My voice says cheerfully

My eyes stay focused on him as we dance while he avoids my gaze for a bit. He lets out a breath before making some direct eye contact with me. He opens his mouth and then says,

“So you know how like we're really close and are best friends...?” 

“Yeah,” My voice says

“And you know how when people go into the maze they don’t like remember stuff...?” He continues

“Yeah...” I answer

“Well, I uh...I have to tell you something before neither of us can remember. I uh...I-” He starts

Before I can hear the rest of his words though I’m pulled out of my memory. I’m brought back to the glade and hear yelling.

Newt’s POV:

Groggily I follow Minho towards the deadheads. I have no clue why he forced me to get up in the middle of the night. What is so bloody important that he has to show us right now.

“Minho, I’m not on the council why do you need me?” Ben sleepily asks

“Because this pertains to Gally and you are his friend so you’re coming along,” Minho replies firmly

I yawn dragging my feet behind Minho and the others. As we get to the Deadheads, Minho turns to us and says,

“We have to be quiet, so no talking beyond this point.”

“It’s only Gally. Can’t you just talk to him tomorrow? I mean maybe he’s going for a walk, he doesn’t sleep well. I don’t see a need for us to follow him Minho. I think we should all just leave it alone and go back to sleep.” Ben tries to convince him

“Why are you so against it Ben? This is your friend we’re talking about.” Minho questions

“There’s...there’s no reason to be against it. I’m not against it...I just think it’s uh...wrong to unexpectedly ambush someone y’know?” Ben shakily retorts

“Well if you’re not against it, then slim it. We’re heading in.” Minho commands

Ben fidgets a bit and bites his lips looking all around but I don’t know why. Slowly and quietly we all enter the deadheads and walk further and further in. There’s a light at the center that gets brighter the closer and closer we get. Once we get close enough, the sight I see snaps me out of my sleepy haze. It’s Gally and Y/N, and they’re slow dancing together. Her eyes are closed and he seems happy. Truly happy. From behind trees we all watch them dance but before long Minho jumps out and yells,

“I told you! I knew he wouldn’t come in here for nothing!”

“What the shuck is going on?!” Gally yells

The rest of us step out and Y/N jolts up looking towards Gally.

“What’s going on?” She asks furrowing her eyebrows in confusion

Gally uses his left hand to pull her back next to him in what seems to be a protective manner. I didn’t notice it until now, but his hand isn’t just holding hers, it’s intertwined with hers. I smile a bit to myself as Gally angrily glares at Minho.

“I asked what the shuck is going on so you better start explaining!” Gally commands

The rest of us step out from behind trees and the faces on both Y/N and Gally are filled with a mix of confusion and anger. Y/N turns her attention towards Ben and exclaims,

“Ben! Why didn’t you stop them!?”

“I tried! It’s hard to say don’t go in there without actually revealing the reason why!” He explains

“Is anyone going to answer my question?!” Gally yells at us

“Well, Minho saw you walking into the deadheads in the middle of the night and decided to wake us up to see what was going on because he had some suspicions.” Alby answers “So we’re here. Now can you explain to me what is going on because I’m pretty sure my rule was breakfast, dinner, bonfires only.”

“Alby, it’s not Gally’s fault. I kept telling him to meet me in the woods. He’s my best friend and I felt that breakfast and dinner was enough time so I thought if we met here once everyone is asleep it would be okay. Please don’t punish him for breaking the rule just because I missed him too much.” Y/N explains

“Is this true Gally?” Alby asks

Gally looks towards Y/N and their eyes lock. It’s like they’re having a conversation with no words. His eyes filled with concern and hers filled with pleading as if he didn’t want to say it’s true but she was begging him too. He turns his head away and closes his eyes for a brief moment before responding.

“Yes, it’s true...” he reluctantly says

“Well then, Y/N tomorrow you will spend your morning in the slammer until the greenie arrives. Is there anything else we should do Newt?” Alby comments

“We should reverse the rule,” I say 

“Really? Why do you say that?” Alby asks

“Many gladers have come up to me to tell me that it’s better if they’re together because then their emotions are more stable. Also, they’re going to keep seeing each other outside of their restricted time no matter what. We might as well rescind it so the Slammer isn’t taken up every day because they just want to see each other.” I explain

“Well, then after your time in the Slammer tomorrow Y/N the ruling will be rescinded,” Alby says

Gally and Y/N look towards the four of us and then towards each other. Within that look, I made a new observation. The emotion in their eyes isn’t adoration. It’s love. I don’t think either of them knows it nor realizes it, but it’s love. When the gaze breaks and their attention is back on us, Minho says,

“I’m assuming we’re done here so I’m going to bed. My work is done.”

The others all shake their heads and we head back to our respected places to sleep for the night.

***

Waking up and heading out of the sleeping area I could see groups of gladers huddled and talking amongst each other and I had a good idea about what it was. Word spreads fast in the glade so by the time breakfast rolled around almost everyone had heard about what happened in the deadheads last night. They heard about the rule-breaking, the rule reversal and everything in between. But that wasn’t the biggest revelation of the day. For a while, everyone knew that Gally and Y/N were close but there was still some idea that maybe someone else could be with her romantically. At this point, though I think everyone in the glade has a general unsaid understanding that Gally is Y/N’s guy and Y/N’s is Gally’s...well gal. Nobody could ever separate them and I think by this point nobody will try to. They're the only two in the glade who can’t see it but they’re in love. Nobody is going to tell them that though, that’s something they’ll have to figure out themselves. I finish my musings and my breakfast early and make my way over to the box. A new greenie arrives today.

???’s POV: 

Waking up I didn’t know where I was. I was in some kind of box slowly moving upwards. It was practically dark with flashes of light that rushed by. Frightened I move towards the corner. The box starts to move upwards faster and faster. Banging on the top of it I yell,

“HELP ME! HELP ME!”

As the box approaches a solid ceiling I collapse to the floor. It stopped. Above me, there is a red glow and a loud blaring noise. The light quickly turns green before disappearing altogether. The ceiling then opens to reveal a bright light and once my eyes focus I see people gathered around the opening above me. Two people open the grate above my head and a guy with green eyes jumps down to where I am. He says,

“Day one greenie. Rise and shine.”

A/N: Hey everyone! Finally got this done and not gonna lie I am so proud of it. Fun Fact: While I was doing my last read through Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling In Love came on my Spotify and it felt like the world fell into place. Tell me what you think, I love feedback and talking about the plot. Thanks for reading! <3

[verytamenow]

Any or all of them, huh? All of them

That wasn’t a this or that thing but I’m bored and technically did ask for it so fine...smartass...

1. What is you middle name? Eric Lynn

2. How old are you? 27

3. When is your birthday? June 8

4. What is your zodiac sign? Gemini

5. What is your favorite color? It depends. To wear? For walls? For a car? In general, steel blue.

6. What’s your lucky number? I don’t really have one, but I’ll choose 7 or 13 if I have to pick one.

7. Do you have any pets? I’m not a pet person

8. Where are you from? Socal

9. How tall are you? 5′5.5″

10. What shoe size are you? US Mens 7

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Umm...shit...like....6?

12. What was your last dream about? I honestly don’t even remember.

13. What talents do you have? Bold of you to assume I could have talents

14. Are you psychic in any way? I’ve had a couple premonition like dreams, but they clue me in to anything important and I don’t wake up remembering much of them.

15. Favorite song? Losing My Religion by REM

16. Favorite movie? Alien, maybe? Or Iron Man.

17. Who would be your ideal partner? I don’t have a specific person in mind. Definitely someone patient but unwilling to tolerate any bullshit. Must understand sarcasm.

18. Do you want children? Dear gods NO!

19. Do you want a church wedding? I don’t particularly care. I don’t really want one but I’d do it if my partner wanted one. No guarantee I’d not get struck down entering the church.

20. Are you religious? Not really. I struggle with the concept of organized religion. But I do respect spirituality so long as it’s not being used to justify bigotry and have some sort of vague belief in it. 

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yes. Both for my own care and to visit family, none of which are fond memories.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? I haven’t.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? No, not yet. But hopefully one day Taylor will run out of other people to meet and finally take pity on me.

24. Baths or showers? Showers! I can’t stand baths for more than 10-15 minutes but can take an hour long shower.

25. What color socks are you wearing? Light and dark blue striped socks.

26. Have you ever been famous? No.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Yes and no. I’d not say no to the potential money involved. But I’m a quiet guy and if I couldn’t find a way to protect my privacy like Taylor’s managed, I’d be done with it pretty quickly.

28. What type of music do you like? A bit of everything, but I’ve been on a pop kick recently.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No, but I’d give it a go in the right setting.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? One, unless they’re not firm enough.

31. What position do you usually sleep in? I usually fall asleep on my side.

32. How big is your house? Few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, 2 stories. Decent sized.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? I usually don’t. But if I wake up starving, I’ll try to find some leftover chicken or something to munch on, usually cold. 

34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yeah, fired a few different types. I’m not a great shot and I don’t handle the noise well. I struggle pulling the trigger for whatever reason.

35. Have you ever tried archery? I haven’t but I really want to!

36. Favorite clean word? Strobocopic is the first word that comes to mind and that’s 100% my dad’s fault, damn him.

37. Favorite swear word? Fuck.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? About 48 hours? I’ll usually take a sleeping pill or pass out on my own by then.

39. Do you have any scars? Ignoring the obvious quip about mental ones, I’ve got a couple physical. Got a faint one on my knee from busting it open as a kid that you can’t really see now. Got a fair few stretch marks and some acne scars as well.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? If I did, they were so secret I didn’t know about them.

41. Are you a good liar? Depends on what it is and how close I am to them. I can lie alright on phone or text unless you know me well or tell a stranger a white lie. But I’ve got no poker face whatsoever so I suck at the big ones, and the closer I am to someone the worse I get at lying. 

42. Are you a good judge of character? Kinda? I haven’t trusted too many assholes but like anyone I can overlook the bad in someone I care about. 

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Nope.

44. Do you have a strong accent? I don’t think so.

45. What is your favorite accent? British or Australian.

46. What is your personality type? Impatient but laid back smartass with a mixed sense of self preservation. I’m a pretty go with the flow guy, but yeah patience isn’t my strong suit.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? My redwing boots.

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes.

49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie.

50. Left or right handed? Strongly right-handed.

51. Are you scared of spiders? I’m fucking terrified of them. It’s sad, really. Even the small ones.

52. Favorite food? Seafood in general or a good rare steak.

53. Favorite foreign food? Sushi!

54. Are you a clean or messy person? I’m a mess tbh. I try but I can’t quite seem to keep things up.

55. Most used phrased? “Fuck” probably.

56. Most used word? See above.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? About 30 with a shower.

58. Do you have much of an ego? I’d like to say no, but I know I’ve got a bit of pride about some things.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Suck until they’re almost gone and then bite.

60. Do you talk to yourself? Not so much now. If I’m alone in the house for an extended period, or I’m trying to work something out or stay focused, then yeah.

61. Do you sing to yourself? I rarely sing along to music in the car, let alone casually to myself.

62. Are you a good singer? Gods no.

63. Biggest Fear? The glib answer is spiders. But in the spirit of the question lise: the actual answer is the inevitable fuck up that is the last straw that leds to people leaving.

64. Are you a gossip? Yes and no? I don’t spread serious rumours, but I’ll absolutely talk shit with those I’m closest with. Kinda a nosey little prick too, I like knowing things.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? My mind kinda went straight to titanic. The 90s jumped out.

66. Do you like long or short hair? I wear my hair short (because getting misgendered makes me want to fling myself off the nearest cliff), but would theoretically consider wearing it longer if/when my facial hair comes in. On a partner, I like either.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I wouldn’t put money on it, but if I could see a list as I named them, I’d probably manage okay.

68. Favorite school subject? History. Or mythology, though that wasn’t a dedicated subject.

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert AF.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No and I don’t think I ever would. 

71. What makes you nervous? It’s the anxiety, bro.

72. Are you scared of the dark? More scared of the tricks my mind can play on me in it, especially if I’m trying to sleep.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Depends on how close I am and what the mistake is.

74. Are you ticklish? Very and I don’t find being tickled funny or enjoyable. I’m likely to get pretty pissed off if someone tickles me intentionally.

75. Have you ever started a rumor? Never intentionally.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Not really? Not with any real power.

77. Have you ever drank underage? Tried a few things, didn’t care for the taste.78. Have you ever done drugs? I tried pot but I can’t inhale for shit so it didn’t do anything for me.

79. Who was your first real crush? The first I can recall was a boy named Corbin in the first grade. He had dark hair and eyes and was nice and I thought he was cute and fun to play with. Then there was a girl named Emily who was tall and blonde. I don’t think I really knew they were crushes though. The first time I had a crush and KNEW it was a crush was high school, on a girl in my chem class and then on my physics teacher in my junior year.

80. How many piercings do you have? None.

81. Can you roll your Rs? Not anymore.

82. How fast can you type? 45-ish WPM?

83. How fast can you run? Not very fast.

84. What color is your hair? Dark blonde.

85. What color is your eyes? Blue.

86. What are you allergic to? Some laundry detergent. If it’s heavily scented I will break out in hives.

87. Do you keep a journal? No, but I’ve been told I should.

88. What do your parents do? My dad works in IT.

89. Do you like your age? Yes and no. I don’t have a problem with my age or nearing 30, but I could also fuck up my life in new and interesting ways if I could be younger knowing what I know now.

90. What makes you angry? Bigotry. Willful ignorance and unwillingness to listen. Hypocrisy. 

91. Do you like your own name? Yes, which is why I picked it.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? I have zero, if not negative, desire to reproduce. But I like gender neutral names for girls - Parker, Peyton, Reagan, etc.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I don’t want either but I REALLY would not know what to do with a child who liked traditionally feminine things.

94. What are you strengths? Sheer stubbornness.

95. What are your weaknesses? Impatience.

96. How did you get your name? I wanted to keep my initials and Zach was the name that came to mind and felt right.

97. Were your ancestors royalty? If you go back far enough, you’ll usually stumble across it.

98. Do you have any scars? Wasn’t this a previous question???

99. Color of your bedspread? Blue, not that I use it.

100. Color of your room? White. Never did get around to painting it.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Vegas Baby! Chap. 6: Private Party

Read chapters 1-5 here!

“I have to go to the bathroom!” Kensi shot out of her chair and stumbled toward the door, her balance somewhat affected by the number of drinks she’d consumed.

“Me too!” Nell shouted, grabbing her final shrimp cocktail and hightailing it after her friend. “Curator emergency!”

Tiffani looked at the rest of the group. “What the hell constitutes a curator emergency?”

Kensi and Nell pushed their way through the crowd and caught the boys just after they’d escaped the building. Callen was still trying to get his pants back on and Sam was making a futile attempt to re-button a shirt that now sported only two buttons. “What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing?” Kensi asked through gritted teeth, wavering unsteadily on the sidewalk.

“Okay, first of all, it’s Eric’s fault,” Deeks said, his shirt flapping in the breeze.

“Baby! I’m so proud of you!” Nell practically tackled him to the ground in a hug.

“Yeah I’m going to need a little more than that to explain why my fiancé felt the need to burst into a room full of horny women and perform,” Kensi looked around and lowered her voice, “a show that until tonight had been for my eyes only.”

“A little focus right now would be appreciated,” Sam said. “There are men with guns and we need to get out of here before they come back.”

Kensi stared at them. “Men with guns? What the heck did you guys do today?”

“Explanations later. We need somewhere to hide out right now,” Callen said. He glanced down at his pants, which were now held together by only the button; the zipper had been ripped beyond repair. “And maybe new clothes.”

Kensi shook her head. “Why don’t we go back to the bachelorette suite? They won’t be looking for you there. It’ll buy you a little time.”

“Lead the way,” Sam said.

“Nell,” Kensi turned to look at her friend and grimaced. “Seriously?”

Nell had pushed Eric up against a wall and was making out with him as if their lives depended on it. It didn’t help that Eric was already basically shirtless and his pants were slowly sliding back down to his ankles. “Hey!” Callen barked. “Life or death situation here! You two mind saving that for later? Or maybe for never?”

Nell reluctantly pulled away leaving Eric looking slightly drunk. “Fine. Let’s go back to the hotel. How are you going to hold off the rest of the girls?”

“I’ll just text them and tell them I’m sick and to have a good time without us.”

“They’ll buy that?” Sam asked.

“Nothing has ever stopped the Cupcake Girls from having a good time,” Kensi said.

“Let’s go. Any sign of trouble we split up,” Callen said.

Kensi stumbled as they started to walk and Deeks grabbed her hand to keep her from tumbling to the pavement. “You okay?”

“I am…a little drunk,” Kensi said.

“She’s a lot drunk,” Nell corrected. “So am I.”

“Perfect,” Sam grumbled. “Let’s try not to make a spectacle of ourselves.”

“Oh I think it’s safe to say that ship has sailed boys,” Nell said.

Half an hour later they were safely in the hotel. Nell had gone down to the gift shop to try and find something suitable for the boys to wear and Kensi had locked herself in the bathroom.

“So,” Callen said, looking around the room, “this is what a bachelorette party looks like.”

Sam started to sit down on the couch and immediately jumped back up, pulling a penis shaped balloon out from behind himself. “Aw hell. What, what is happening?” he sputtered. “This was supposed to be a nice, calm, gentlemen’s weekend. And now we’re stuck in a room full of pink balloons and confetti!”

“I’m really sorry,” Eric said miserably. He still had some of Nell’s lipstick on his neck and chest. “This is all my fault.”

“No it’s not,” Deeks said. “It’s nobody’s fault. It just…happened.”

“Why does it seem to always happen to us?” Callen asked.

Deeks shrugged. “Hetty?”

They all nodded. “Hetty.”

Nell returned holding several bags bearing the hotel’s logo. “Okay there wasn’t a lot of choice. A bus tour of seniors from Wichita just came through, but I think everything will fit.”

Sam held up a tank-top that said LAS VEGAS in glittery letters. “Nell come on!”

“It was all they had!”

“Oh no way.” Deeks held up a pair of black shorts that said VEGAS BABY across the butt. “Seriously Velma?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who ended up stripping off my clothes in front of the masses to avoid being shot,” she said. “I’m going to check on Kensi. Either put the clothes on or go naked. I don’t care.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the guys to put on their new garb alone. “We look like a high school cheer squad,” Sam said.

“Actually my legs look really good in these shorts,” Eric said, twisting this way and that to get a better look.

“Well the good news is I got us a flight back to LA that leaves in an hour,” Callen said, attempting unsuccessfully to put the phone in his tiny shorts pocket. “Don’t women need working pockets? Why are these so small?”

“To make our butts look better.” Nell exited the bathroom, munching on a shrimp.

“Where did you get that?” Deeks asked incredulously.

“Every woman has their secrets Deeks,” she said cheekily. “So, you boys flying the coop?”

“Yeah we need to get headed to the airport,” Callen said.

“How’s Kensi?” Deeks asked.

“Still drunk,” Nell said. “Probably because she’s sitting in there downing a bottle of extremely cheap wine by herself.”

“What?” Deeks got up and walked into the bathroom to find his fiancée sitting on the floor holding a bottle of rosé. “Babe what are you doing?”

“Trying to erase the mental image of my entire team shaking their junk on stage in front of my best friends.” She blinked up at him blearily. “Why do you look like you joined a girl’s dance team? Are you guys making a permanent career change?”

He sat down next to her and gently pried the bottle from her fingers. “It was all Nell could find in the gift shop. And it was a life or death situation babe.”

She giggled. “Did you see the way Callen had to watch his hips because he wasn’t sure if they were moving or not?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“And Sam! Sam trying to do that bodyroll!” She snorted and buried her face in his chest.

“It is definitely something I will never forget.”

She popped her head back up and looked at him seriously. “You were great. Like really great.” She grabbed his face to make sure he was looking at her. “Great.”

He tried not to laugh. Half an hour ago she’d been furious and now it looked like she was about to ask for a repeat performance. “Thanks babe.”

“Hey,” Nell poked her head in. “You guys have to hit the road.”

“Where are you going?” Kensi asked in confusion.

“We have to get out of dodge. But I’ll see you when you get home tomorrow.”

“Um, Nell?” Eric’s anxious call from the room had all three of them going to the door, Deeks holding tightly onto Kensi’s arm as she swayed unsteadily.

Eric, Sam, and Callen were standing awkwardly in their gift store finery watching as all the Cupcake Girls filed into the room mouths agape. “Oh. My. God,” Kat said.

“You brought the strippers back to the hotel?! This is why you left?!” Mindy cried.

There was a moment of stunned silence. “Yes!” Nell said. “Yes, I asked the strippers to come back to the hotel for a private performance.”

“Oh my god KayKay. I have never been more proud of you,” Tiffani said in awe.

“Yep, well, they have to go now. They have another show to get to,” Nell said.

“Awww!” all the girls groaned in disappointment.

“You do?” Kensi asked Deeks with wide eyes.

“No, babe,” Deeks said quietly.

“Yep, sorry ladies. We’re off to entertain other women with our bodies,” Eric said jovially.

“Hahaha,” Nell said through gritted teeth. “Thanks again guys. It was fun!”

Deeks made sure Kensi was braced against the wall so she wouldn’t fall when he leter go. “Try not to have too much fun,” he said softly.

“But why are you leaving?” She squinted at him and grabbed his arm. “Who are you stripping for now?”

“No one but you babe,” he said, smiling in spite of himself.

“Kensi, let the nice stripper go,” Nell said, gently pulling Kensi’s fingers off his arm.

“Nell, that’s not a stripper, that’s Deeks,” Kensi whispered loudly.

The Cupcake Girls tittered with laughter. “Someone’s been hitting the rosé awfully hard,” Mandy said.

“Yep she has. Now scoot boys. No more of your naked shenanigans in here. The bride needs to get to bed.” Nell shooed them out the door.

Deeks was the last to leave. “I’ll take care of her,” Nell said before he could speak. “Just get home safely and try to keep your clothes on while doing it.” She looked behind him and pointed at Eric. “Especially you.”

The door closed and Deeks looked at his team. “You heard the lady. Home we go, with our clothes on and our dignity left just…all over the floor of that club.”    

[homijoh]

What did you mean when you said Yuki and Hugo are spares and we won't see them that much anymore?

Fantastic question!

So currently we have 32 households in rotation, that’s about 140ish sims I’m ACTIVELY playing. This means taking care of needs, earning skills, going to work etc… and we still have at least 25 sims not even born/adopted yet but are planned to be. 

This naturally is going to be way too many for me to effectively handle and write stories for, so I have added in some legacy style rules. Each household has an heir randomly rolled for each generation and any one left over is considered a spare. This heir is the owner of the house they live in, will remain there for their entire life, and pass on to the next generation after their death. The spares will get married to heirs or move out on their own to become background characters. If they move out there will be no more story focused on their life or any of their future children’s lives, they may come into other stories as a side character though. I’ll give updates like marriages and babies had via mccc but I will not be the one driving their lives going forward.

For those curious as to who is an heir so far I’ve included each household under the cut cause its a big list and I don’t want to spoil it if you want a surprise. The ones that say “not rolled yet” mean that there are still kiddos to be born in that household and I cant roll for the heir till they’re all born.

Spencer-Kim-Lewis household

Gen 1: Eric Lewis

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Goth household

Gen 1: Mortimer Goth

Gen 2: Julianna Goth

Pancakes household

Gen 1: Eliza Pancakes

Gen 2: not rolled yet

BFF household

Gen 1: Summer Holiday

Gen 2: Roxana Lobo

Caliente household

Gen 1: Nina Caliente

Gen 2: Ben Caliente

Landgraab household

Gen 1: Nancy Landgraab

Gen 2: Malcolm Landgraab

Zest household

Gen 1: Johnny Zest

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Roomies household

Gen 1: Zoe Patel

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Munch household

Gen 1: Mila Munch

Gen 2: Wolfgang Munch

Free Spirits household

Gen 1: Maaike Haas

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Fyres household

Gen 1: Moira Fyres

Gen 2: Morgan Fyres

Partihaus household

Gen 1: Paolo Rocca

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Behr household

Gen 1: Candy Behr

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Bjergsen household

Gen 1: Bjorn Bjergsen

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Villareal household

Gen 1: Jacques Villareal

Gen 2: Payton Villareal

Bro household

Gen 1: Joaquin Le Chien

Gen 2: Haylee Faust

Rasoya household

Gen 1: Raj Rasoya

Gen 2: no heir/end of household

Bheeda household

Gen 1: Jesminder Bheeda

Gen 2: Mani Bheeda

Benali household

Gen 1: Salim Benali

Gen 2:  Arian Benali

Jang household

Gen 1: Baako Jang

Gen 2: Kuwame Jang

Feng household

Gen 1: Victor Feng

Gen 2: Aron Feng

Lobo household

Gen 1: Diego Lobo

Gen 2: Marina Lobo

Pizzaz household

Gen 1: Penny Pizzaz

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Karaoke Ledgends household

Gen 1: Akira Kibo

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Vatore household

Gen 1: Lilith Vatore

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Count Vladislaus Straud IV household

Gen 1: Valdislaus Straud

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Hecking household

Gen 1: Brant Hecking

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Delgato household

Gen 1: Supriya Delgato

Gen 2: Ronan Delgato

Lynx household

Gen 1: Catarina Lynx

Gen 2: Stefan Lynx

Jeong household

Gen 1: Vanessa Jeong

Gen 2: not rolled yet

Bailey-Moon household

Gen 1: Thorne Bailey

Gen 2: Orange Bailey-Moon

Ward household

Gen 1: Judith Ward

Gen 2: No heir/end of household

[zen3to5]

J/H 3-18: Eric’s Naughty No-No

If you thought the last episode was a bit of a cheat, with so little new material, this will hopefully take care of that.

We're going to assume now that throwing Zen into Season 3 would affect the production order at this point. Instead of "The Trials of Michael Kelso," 3-18 is now "Eric's Naughty No-No." Once again, the "A" story with Eric and Donna and the "B" story with the Formans are left alone and preserved for context. But there's an all-new runner, all for Hyde, and that attitude he had about Jackie in "Ice Shack" is gonna start paying off...

FF.Net AO3

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SHOW TITLE   INT. THEATER - NIGHT   A film in progress, a thin crowd. Heavy breathing and terrible porno music are the only sounds coming from the screen. ERIC, FEZ, HYDE, and KELSO, near the front of the theater, all look up at the screen in a daze.   FEZ: Oh, my first X-rated movie. I don’t know what’s going on, but that is the luckiest pizza boy ever!   HYDE: I’ll say. There’s at least nine boobs in this shot alone.   KELSO: Guys, I don’t know about this. I mean, I’ve realized lately that attraction is about more than just the boobs or the butt. This kind of trashy porno flick is really – oh, wow! That seems like it would tickle.   FEZ: Oh, nothing’s going to happen in this scene. It’s just two ladies.   Female moaning from the film. The boys all sit up straighter.   FEZ (cont’d): Oh, bravo. Nice plot twist!   ERIC: Oh – wow! Does everyone do that? Because I don’t do that. I just stick to two or three key moves, and... God, they don’t even come close to that.   FEZ: Oh, Eric. I have not done anything. But even I, had I done anything, would have already done that.   Another moan from the screen. Kelso tilts to one side.   KELSO: I’ll be right back.   He scrambles out of the aisle as the others keep watching.

MAIN CREDITS   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Temptation” by Perry Como.   INT. THE HUB - DAY   A pleasant weekend morning, with a light crowd in the Hub. On the far side of the booth seat, a GUM-CHEWING BLONDE, her back against the wall, talks with Hyde, who leans with one hand against the wall just above her shoulder. “Temptation” plays on the jukebox.   BLONDE: So, Hyde, are you still on probation?   HYDE: (nods) Just checked in at the precinct yesterday.   The blonde’s eyes widen, and she paws at Hyde’s jacket as she pops her gum.   HYDE (cont’d): Yeah. My probation officer’s not a bad guy, you know? He keeps it simple, keeps it short...   Hyde reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, crumpled paper bag.   HYDE (cont’d): And he ain’t too careful with his contraband.   The blonde squeals and swats him playfully on the chest. Hyde grins and puts the bag away.   HYDE (cont’d): So, you ever been cruisin’ in an El Camino?   BLONDE: Oh, my God. Hyde, you are the coolest!   She bobs on her feet, giggling, and the mask of cool slips off Hyde’s face. We cut to:   FANTASY SEQUENCE. HYDE’S POV. In place of the blonde is JACKIE, wearing her cheerleading uniform and letter jacket and surrounded by stage lights. She is ten times as bubbly and admiring as the blonde.   JACKIE: Oh, my God! Steven, you are the coolest! Oh, can we have a Circle when we get over to Eric’s? I love that you turned me on to those! Ooh, those sunglasses are so mysterious. (gasps) And all this time, Led Zeppelin was a band? They’re amazing!   She starts a cheer routine as the fantasy sequence fades away.   The blonde has retrieved her bag and heads for the door, tugging on Hyde’s arm, but he stands firm and gently pulls her back in front of him.   HYDE: Uh, you know what? I can’t.   He offers a half-shrug by way of apology and leaves the baffled blonde behind as he crosses the room and leans on the pinball machine. He lets out a long breath and shakes his head.   Pushing himself upright and turning around, Hyde sees the blonde making out with a JOCK near the door. When they break apart, the blonde has a sultry gleam in her eye, and the jock is completely out of breath. He reaches into his mouth and takes out the blonde’s gum.   JOCK: All right!   He takes the blonde by the hand, and they hurry out the door. Hyde leans back against the pinball machine.   HYDE: Oh, holy hell.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   The sun shines in from the patio door. KITTY is hard at work on the stovetop, spooning filling into a pie crust.   RED strolls in from the living room and takes a whiff of the kitchen air.   RED: Mmmm, smells good. Watcha making?   He takes a beer from the fridge.   KITTY: (still working) Oh, a little lemon meringue and pot roast and my sister Paula is coming and seven-layer salad.   RED: Ahh. Seven-layer – hey, wait a second.   Kitty sets the spoon down and looks up at Red.   KITTY: Red, now please, be nice. We haven’t seen her in almost six years.   RED: Yeah. Not since she got arrested.   KITTY: No, no, no, not arrested, detained.   RED: She showed up in the back seat of a police car with lights flashing. I had to tell the neighbors she was the mayor of Cincinnati.   Outside, a car horn honks. Kitty hops and claps.   KITTY: Oh, there she is.   RED: You wait. She’s gonna hit me up for money like she always does.   They cross to the patio door.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY – DAY   Red and Kitty step out into the drive. A nauseatingly pink THUNDERBIRD slowly pulls in. The logo for KATHY MAY COSMETICS adorns the back window. The Thunderbird manages to rear-end the Toyota in the garage, breaking the taillights. Red scowls.   RED: That’s gonna cost me.   Out from the car steps Kitty’s sister PAULA, tanned and brunette, but with the same happy energy as Kitty. She is dressed in the same shade of pink as her car.   KITTY: Oh, my God!   PAULA: Kitty!   KITTY: Oh, my God, look at you!   PAULA: I know! I know! I’m fabulous!   They rush to embrace each other, sharing the shrill cackling that only the best of middle-aged sisters can share. Kitty looks her sister over, and Paula poses.   KITTY: Oh, my God. You’re wearing stockings! Red, she’s wearing stockings! Oh, oh, and matching shoes!   Red nods curtly. Paula smiles at him and steps over to him.   PAULA: Come on, Red. I know you’re dying for a nibble.   She gives him a kiss on the cheek. Red spares her a small smile.   RED: Ahh, Paula. You’re so... pink.   PAULA: Oh, well, sure, sure! I’ve gotta match my brand-new car.   She sweeps her hand out in presentation over the Thunderbird.   PAULA (cont’d): Go ahead, pet her.   Reluctantly, Red gives the trunk a pat.   KITTY: Well ooh, ooh, I wanna pet her too!   She pats the trunk too, with much more enthusiasm. Red walks down the length of the car.   RED: Why did you paint it with Pepto-Bismol?   PAUL: It’s not Pepto-Bismol. It’s Luscious Blushes. And only the top Kathy May salesperson gets one of these babies.   RED: So, you stole it from her?   Paula laughs. She opens up her purse, takes out a big wad of bills, and hands it to Red.   PAULA: I have all the money that I owe you. Here it is.   KITTY: Oh, my God. You have cash. Red, she has cash!   She and Paula laugh together and hug again. Red counts the money. Kitty, seeing over Paula’s shoulder, reaches over to his arm.   KITTY (cont’d): Honey, Red, Red, Red – really. You don’t have to count it.   RED: Oh – of course. You’re family!   He chuckles. The sisters go back to their embrace. Red turns his back to them and resumes counting.   CUT TO:   INT. HUB - DAY   Later that afternoon. “You Can’t Turn Me Off (In the Middle of Turning Me On)” by High Inergy plays on the jukebox.   The guys have claimed two small tables near the counter. Hyde’s chair is turned toward the wall as he broods. Eric sits backwards in his chair as he stares into space, his jaw hanging open. Fez and Kelso are turned in toward each other as they share a basket of fries and sip at their sodas.   ERIC: (beat) Okay, so did anyone besides me think that some of the guys in that movie were... not completely average? Like, you know, they were way, way above average?   FEZ: What are you talking about? Those men were completely average. In fact, I found the guy with the mustache downright puny.   KELSO: See now, Fez – that’s not honest. I mean, we all know you’re small in the pants.   Fez glares at him.   FEZ: Fine. You want honesty? I’ll give you honesty. We are all small in the pants!   He’s loud enough to attract stares, and he winces at them. Fez shoves the fries away and stands.   FEZ (cont’d): Now good day.   He grabs his coat and heads for the door.   KELSO: Fez -   FEZ: I said, “good day!”   He throws his hand up as he leaves the Hub. Kelso shakes his head and takes the basket in his hands.   ERIC:  Hey, you guys – honestly, you don’t think Donna’s... you know, bored, right? ‘Cause those guys in the movie... they didn’t do the same move twice. And I’ve done the same move, like, always.   KELSO: Yup. I bet they go to a special school or something. I mean, they’re like doctors at doing it.   He gains a faraway look in his eye, contemplating the concept. Eric gives him a funny look, which makes Kelso bow his head and cradle the fries.   Hyde looks over at both of them and scowls.   HYDE: Will you two shut up? God, I can’t believe we went to a nudie flick and all you can talk about is the guys.   He turns away, disgusted. Eric and Kelso share a look.   KELSO: (to Eric) He’s got a point.   HYDE: (quietly) The things those chicks did in that movie. There’s gotta be at least a few chicks around here know how to do some of that stuff, too. And I’m missing out on it, man!   He slams a fist down on the table, giving Eric and Kelso a jump. They look over at Hyde and lean away from him.   ERIC: (beat) Hyde, you haven’t been using the stuff you swiped from the precinct, have you?   Hyde turns to glare at them. Eric holds up his hands as Kelso keeps munching fries.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN - DAY   Later that afternoon. Kitty is preparing her seven-layer salad. Paula leans on the stovetop, looking around the kitchen. Red stands near the fridge, nursing a beer.   KITTY: (while working) So, Paula, tell me more about the ship captain.   PAULA: Oh, that was just a fling, you know?   RED: Didn’t you have a fiancé the last time we saw you?   KITTY: Red, now, there is no reason to re-hash ancient history, is there?   PAULA: (to Kitty) No, it’s okay. (to Red) It turned out he lived on some sort of commune where everyone called him “God.” And there were guns. And I could really never figure out why God would need a gun. But there were some fun parties – woo!   She laughs, waving off the memory.   PAULA (cont’d):  Life has gotten so much better since I moved to Indianapolis. I mean, things move so much faster in the big city. One day you’re wondering if you’ll ever find happiness and the next, you’re waving the starting flag at the Indy 500.   Red’s head snaps her way – he’s finally, really paying attention.   RED: You waved the Indy flag?   Paula nods. Red sets his beer down and takes a step toward her, his mouth hanging open. Paula smiles and Kitty shifts on her feet.   PAULA: Well, enough about me. Kitty, dear, what have you been up to?   Kitty stops her work on the salad and turns toward her sister.   KITTY: Well, you know, it’s funny you should ask, because we have been super, super busy. (laughs) I – I – well, you know I was working at the hospital, but with Red back to work and - and with the kids and everything, I decided to – to stay home, and...   She looks around, as if desperate for something interesting to say.   RED: (to Paula) So, did you meet Dick Trickle?   Kitty blushes at the name and throws a hand over her face. Red gives a “what?” sort of a shrug.   BUMPER   INT. FORMAN BEDROOM – NIGHT   Red and Kitty are tucked in for the night. They both sit up in bed. Kitty has her HIGH SCHOOL YEARBOOK open, while Red is re-counting Paula’s money.   KITTY: Oh, well, will you look at this? Here’s me, captain of the cheerleaders. “Most likely to succeed.” “Best laugh.” (laughs) Oh, here’s Paula.   She tilts the yearbook Red’s way and points to a page. Red’s face curdles at what he sees.   RED: What’s that on her cheek?   KITTY: Oh, she had a little sledding accident with her face that year.   Red rolls his eyes.   RED: Typical.   KITTY: (laughs) I know. (beat) Things were so different then.   She flips a page. In the upper-right corner is a black-and-white photograph of a YOUNG KITTY, posing with a tiara at the homecoming dance, while a YOUNG PAULA struggles with spilled punch down her dress in the background. The photo grows off the page, and we cut to:   INT. DANCE HALL – NIGHT   FLASHBACK. Kitty stands proud, the homecoming queen, while Paula scrubs furiously at her stained dress.   A TALL GIRL gives Kitty a big hug.   TALL GIRL: Kitty! You so deserve this. You’re the best.   KITTY: Oh, aren’t you sweet?   She gives a little wave and a laugh, already recognizably hers. The tall girl moves on, and a CORNY GUY in a bad bowtie sidles up to Kitty.   CORNY GUY: Boy, oh, boy. Chet sure is lucky. He’s got the keenest girl in school!   KITTY: Oh, stop!   A still-stained Paula, with her date MARVIN, comes up behind Kitty and draws her attention.   PAULA: Congratulations, Kitty.   KITTY: Thanks, Paula.   PAULA: I knew you’d win. You always do.   KITTY: (beat) No, not always.   CHET, Kitty’s date, strolls over and takes Kitty by the arm.   CHET: Well, I want a kiss from the queen.   KITTY: Well, Chet, you have been an awfully loyal subject.   Kitty kisses his cheek and adjusts his suit.   PAULA: You guys, I’d like you to meet my date, Marvin.   She turns, but Marvin is no longer at her side. Instead, he’s making out with the tall girl from earlier. Paula takes this pathetically well.   PAULA (cont’d): Marvin? Sweetie? Sweetie?   Kitty looks away, uncomfortable.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN BEDROOM – NIGHT   Kitty stares down at her yearbook and sighs.   KITTY: And now, I’m a housewife and she goes on cruises with Dick Trickle.   She sets the yearbook on her nightstand and sighs again.   Red has gone from counting the money in his hands to spreading it out on the bed.   RED: You don’t know what she’s not telling you. I mean, just because she’s more successful than you doesn’t mean that she’s happy.   Kitty slowly turns and glares at Red.   KITTY: “More successful?”   RED: Well, it’s just that she has so many...   He looks up from the cash and sees his wife’s face.   RED (cont’d): And she’s – she’s very... look, money!   He holds up the wad of bills. Kitty is not amused.   CUT TO:   INT. ERIC’S ROOM – NIGHT   The lights are on, but the action goes on. Eric and DONNA are going at it. Eric blows into Donna’s ear before kissing her neck.   DONNA: I love it when you do that.   Eric looks up, his face just above Donna’s.   ERIC: Good to know, good to know. How about when I do – this?   He goes back in and raises the covers, sparing the censor. The awful porn music from the movie begins to play as we move in on an ACTION FIGURE with its hand over its face, its fingers suggestively positioned.   RECORD SCRATCH – hard.   DONNA: Geez, Eric! What the hell?   Donna sticks out from the sheets and wraps them around herself, moving as far from Eric as she can. He struggles to emerge from inside the bed.   ERIC: Okay, okay, I’ll just go back up to the ear.   It’s the wrong thing to say. Donna climbs out of bed, over Eric.   DONNA: Get away from me, you pig! Where are my pants!   ERIC: What? Wait – it was an accident!   Donna bolts from the room without a look or a word. Eric futilely retrieves a feather from the headboard shelf.   ERIC (cont’d): Look, I have a feather.   FADE TO BLACK   COMMERCIAL   EXT. FORMAN PORCH – DAY   The next morning. Donna and Jackie sit on the Forman’s porch. Donna whispers into Jackie’s ear. With each word, Jackie looks more and more repulsed.   JACKIE: He did? What the heck for?   DONNA: I don’t know! In, like, what universe is that sexy?   JACKIE: Only one – the skinny pervert universe!   Both girls shudder.   DONNA: It was so strange. I mean, usually he just sticks to, like, two or three key moves. The pig.   JACKIE: The freak.   Jackie scoots closer and put an arm around Donna’s shoulders.   DONNA: (moans) He had just done the ear thing, too. You know, when you have something that works, just stick with it!   She buries her head in her hands as Jackie pats her back – though not without pulling a face.   BUMPER   MUSIC NOTE: “Bad Bad Leroy Brown” by Jim Croce.   INT. HUB – DAY   A lazy Sunday afternoon. Only a few teens are passing their time there. “Bad Bad Leroy Brown” plays on the jukebox.   A few GUYS IN LEATHER JACKETS huddle in a corner, each with a BABE under their arms. Hyde sits near the foosball table with a SOBBING BRUNETTE. An empty fries basket and a check are on a small round table to her right.   BRUNETTE: And so I was running late, and I didn’t have a chance to call ahead and let Jake know, y’know? So I get to his place around 9, and when I went in, he was there with my friend Susie.   She sniffs, dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief. Hyde nods, encouraging her to continue.   BRUNETTE (cont’d): At least, I think it was Susie – it was hard to tell, when all I could see were her legs around Jake’s neck!   A fresh wave of tears spills out of her, and she buries her head in her hands. Hyde gives a sympathetic half-nod and puts a hand on the back of her chair.   HYDE: I’m hearing a cry for a little sympathy and affection. And I’m here for you. And I can also be there for you, in the flatbed of my truck, in about ten minutes.   The brunette looks up at Hyde, her tear-streaked face trusting and vulnerable. Hyde leans away from her, and we cut to:   FANTASY SEQUENCE. HYDE’S POV. Jackie is in place of the brunette, an absolute train wreck of tears and bad hair. Dramatic lighting accentuates her depression.   JACKIE: Oh, Steven! It was horrible! I thought Michael loved me! I trusted him! How could he do that to me - how? How? What am I gonna do? Now I’m all alone...   She throws he head back, bawling, as the fantasy fades away.   Hyde withdraws his arm from the brunette’s chair. He scoots back slightly, takes her hand, and pats it.   HYDE: Uh – you know, though, you gotta be careful on the rebound. So, uh, why don’t I...   He takes the check, looks it over, and leaves some money on the table.   HYDE (cont’d): Yeah, and... you call up some friends who can... you know, support... and, uh –   One of the leather jacket guys, a tough-looking S.O.B., marches over and pulls Hyde’s chair around to face him.   GUY: Hey! What are you doing with my girl, man?   HYDE: You Jake?   The guy nods. Hyde nods back before he elbows Jake hard in the gut. He stands, kicking his chair aside. Jake recovers up to his full height. Now that they’re both standing, it’s clear that Jake is at least two heads taller than Hyde is. Hyde stares up at Jake’s fuming mug.   HYDE (cont’d): Oh, holy hell.   CUT TO:   INT. FORMAN KITCHEN – DAY   Early afternoon. Paula is at the stovetop with a pan, some dough, and a rolling pin. Kitty enters through the living room with a basket of laundry and sees her sister at work. She hesitates for a moment, then sets down the laundry and crosses to the stovetop.   KITTY: So, um, what’s going on here? Packing a picnic lunch for your next African safari?   They share a laugh.   PAULA: No, I thought I’d make my strudel for the boys. It feels nice, having people to cook for.   KITTY: Huh. (beat) Well, um – sounds like your, uh, jet-set life gets pretty lonely, huh?   PAULA: Oh, no, I have lots of friends.   KITTY: Oh, right, right. But, um – all the friends in the world don’t make up for having to come home from the Bahamas to an empty house, do they?   PAULA: I actually enjoy my privacy.   KITTY: Hmmm. (beat) Privacy, loneliness. It’s a fine line, isn’t it?   Paula sets the rolling pin down and turns to face Kitty.   PAULA: Okay, Kitty, is something wrong?   KITTY: Yeah, something is wrong. Why are you here?   PAULA: Because I missed you. And I wanted you to see that I’m finally okay.   KITTY: Okay or better than me?   PAULA: Better than you? Oh, Kitty. You’re my sister and I... okay, fine! I’m finally a success and I wanted to come back and rub your face in it! And I did, and I liked it!   She stands up tall and gives a snotty nod. Kitty stares her down.   KITTY: Well, good for you. It must have been hard, living in my shadow because I was popular and you weren’t, and I had a life and you didn’t. That’s right, I said it! You heard me! You were a schlub! A schlub!   The sisters glare, daggers in their eyes.   Paula breaks first, falling into laughter. Kitty follows her, and they embrace.   KITTY: Oh, I am so sorry.   PAULA: Oh, I’m sorry too.   KITTY: I just... I don’t know what is the matter with me.   She starts tidying up around the stovetop, just to keep her hands busy.   KITTY (cont’d): I should be just thrilled that you’re finally on your feet, and instead, I’m just... I’m acting like a jealous little ninny.   Paula stops Kitty’s tidying and takes her hands.   PAULA: Kitty, would you like a makeover?   KITTY: Oh, I really would.   PAULA:  Okay.   They laugh and hug again.   KITTY: (beat) I won’t look like a whore, will I?   Paula shakes her head and leads Kitty out of the kitchen.   CUT TO:   INT. FOTOHUT - DAY   A not-so-rare lull in business. LEO sits at the counter, absent-mindedly thumbing through photographs spread out on the countertop, while Hyde paces restlessly behind him. His lip is busted and his knuckles are bruised.   HYDE: This is bad, man. Everywhere I look, everywhere I go, every chick I try to score, she’s there. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t like it. I mean, this isn’t me, man! I don’t buy into the sham of attachment!   He stops pacing and starts soapboxing, his voice rising with each sentence.   HYDE (cont’d): No emotions! No commitment! No shackles of the female race keeping me down! She thinks she can work her way into my head? She thinks she can chase me down until I take her out, then still own me even when the kiss didn’t take? Well, I’ve got news for you, Burkhart! I’m not falling for that –   He’s right on the verge of hyperventilating. Leo leaps to his feet and shakes Hyde roughly by the shoulders.   LEO: Cool it, dude! Now look, man – your attitude has been alienating customers all day and is contributing to an unprofessional work environment.   This flash of competence from Leo is enough to snap Hyde out of it.   LEO (cont’d): Now I’m sorry, man, but I’ve got no choice. There’s only one thing to do about a situation like this.   CUT TO:   THE CIRCLE. The cramped space of the FotoHut really lets the smoke build up. Leo nods, contented, as he lights some incense.   Pan to Hyde, now with a sleepy, happy smile. He coughs and stretches.   HYDE: Thanks, Leo. I dunno, man. I just never thought I’d feel this way about a girl, you know? Especially a 95-pound midget with a voice that makes dogs deaf.   Pan to Leo.   LEO: I used to live with midgets, man. And clowns. And elephants. We went all around the country in a big train. Set up this big striped tent wherever we stopped, and everyone came out to see us. Hey, you know what? I think I was in the circus, man.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: I mean, I could see, purely as a social experiment, dating someone like Jackie, you know? A chick from corrupt, Republican, corporate stooge money. A child of the Man. Bring her into the full range of experience offered by the world of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, and you turn the Man’s own child against him.   Pan to Leo.   LEO: That ain’t funny, man. You know my kids turned against me. Like once, we were talking, and we were turned toward each other. Then something happened over their shoulders, and they turned to look at it, and then they were turned against me, man.   Pan to Hyde.   HYDE: See, it’s like I’m the virus, and Jackie’s patient zero. Through her, I corrupt the system from the inside. That’s how you bring on the revolution, man!   A horn honks. Hyde looks out the hut window.   HYDE (cont’d): Huh. (to Leo) I think we gotta go back work.   Pan to Leo.   LEO: Now what have I told you about working while you’re on the job, man?   He gives a long, slow, disappointed shake of his head.   CUT TO:   EXT. FORMAN DRIVEWAY - DAY   The Thunderbird still sits in the driveway. Red stands by its side, shaking his head.   RED: (to the car) You poor pink bastard.   The patio door slides open, and out steps Kitty, in a prim outfit and just slightly garish make-up.   RED (cont’d): (to Kitty) Well, well, what have we here?   She strolls over to the car, sits on the trunk, and strikes a pose.   RED (cont’d): All right.   He checks his watch and leans in toward Kitty.   RED (cont’d): I got 20 minutes ‘til my wife gets back, so pucker up!   He and Kitty laugh, embrace, and kiss.   Paula comes up behind them, her bags in hand.   PAULA: Okay, you two lovebirds. I’m off.   Red and Kitty break apart. Some of Kitty’s bright red lipstick has smeared off over Red’s mouth.   PAULA (cont’d): Bye-bye, Red.   She gives him a kiss on the cheek, and playfully pokes at his lipstick smear. Kitty hops off the car and hugs her sister.   KITTY: Oh, Paula. Thank you so much.   PAULA: Oh, Kitty, what are sisters for, huh? I’ll talk to you in a couple of days. And you remember what I said: recherche de vie pour vivre la vie.   KITTY: Oui oui, ma soeur.   She and Paula wave goodbye. Paula packs up, gets into her car, and pulls out, honking her horn as she drives away.   RED: (to Kitty) So what’s with all the French? Did she call me something?   KITTY: No. She said, “search for life to live life,” which is my new motto. Paula made me see that I have been in a rut. But the good news is, from now on, I am just going to explore life.   Red smiles playfully.   RED: But you’re all pretty now, with your big red lips. Isn’t that enough?   Kitty chuckles and gives him another kiss.   KITTY: Oh, I love you, Red Forman. (beat) And no.   She heads back inside.   BUMPER   INT. ERIC’S ROOM – DAY   For reasons best known to himself, Eric is checking the inside of his nose in the mirror.   The door swings open. Donna storms in. Eric quickly backs away from the mirror.   ERIC: Oh, hey. I was just looking at... hey.   DONNA: Okay, where did you get the idea to...   She looks around. She throws the door shut and leans into Eric, her voice now a tense whisper.   DONNA (cont’d): Do what you did?   Eric sighs, his shoulders slump.   ERIC: I went to see this movie, and it was a... well, I guess you could call it an art film.   DONNA: Eric!   ERIC: Okay, fine, Donna, it was an X-rated film. And it just - there were all these people, and they were doing all these things that we’ve never done. And it seemed liked they really enjoyed doing this one thing especially. And I just thought, ‘you know who would enjoy doing that one thing especially? My lady.’   He offers a cheesy smile.   DONNA: Eric, listen to me, because this is gosh-darn important. You don’t do that. Not without asking.   ERIC: (beat) So, if I had asked -   DONNA: The answer’s still no!   Eric nods. Donna crosses to the bed.   DONNA (cont’d): Eric, are you bored with our sex life?   Eric joins her on the bed.   ERIC: Oh, God, no! Just the opposite. I figured that you had to be bored. And it was our hundredth time, and I just wanted to do something special.   DONNA: Oh, my God, you count?   ERIC: (beat) No.   DONNA: Oh, my God, that’s so sweet. But do me a favor: next time you’re gonna do something weird, give me a little more warning so I can brace myself. Or tell you to back the hell off.   ERIC: Right.   DONNA: Because no matter how much I love you – that was unpleasant.   Eric nods, the message received.   FADE TO BLACK   CREDITS   INT. FOTOHUT - DAY   FANTASY SEQUENCE. HYDE’S POV. Jackie is just outside the window of the FotoHut, sitting behind the wheel of a black sports car. She looks utterly pissed.   JACKIE: What is taking so long? God, I can’t believe you’re wasting all your potential in this smelly old hut with that greasy hippie. You need to stop goofing around! Hello? Are you even listening to me?   Hard cut from the fantasy to Hyde, shaking his head.   HYDE (v.o.): (thoughts) Wait – I’m attracted to this?   We now see what triggered his fantasy: an IRATE CUSTOMER, a hot but vicious-looking redhead waiting for her photos.   CUSTOMER: Hello? Where’s my film, moron?   HYDE: (beat) Oh, holy hell.   END.