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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years ago

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Want You Back

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (little violence, little blood)

Original Idea: Exes-to-Lovers is kinda an underrated trope, when it’s done right.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) This one is... 2,833 words. I wish I could say I’m sorry for it being long but I’m not. Have fun! @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“Oh shoot—hide me!” I hissed, ducking behind Daisy. She looked at me in confusion before glancing around the party.

She rolled her eyes. “Girl, you haven’t dated Jason in like a year. Can’t you at least try to be civil?”

“Oh trust me, I’d love nothing more than to be civil. Honestly, I’d love nothing more than to get back together with him. I thought we made each other happy. But he kept so many secrets and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who can’t be honest with me. We broke up so… explosively that I’m not sure we can speak nicely to each other,” I replied. “Just… block his view of me while I sneak into Jessie’s room, okay?”

Daisy heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. But hiding from him won’t do you any good.”

“It’ll do us both a world of good if it means I don’t have to talk to him.”

Daisy did as I asked and blocked Jason’s view of me until we got to the stairs. I bolted up them two at a time and ducked into Jessie’s room. The door had been closed but unlocked. Once I shut myself inside, I leaned against it and sighed.

The bookcase in Jessie’s room was more meant for displaying knick-knacks than holding books, so a quick glance at her collection revealed nothing worth reading. I sat on the floor next to her bed, on her fuzzy pink rug, and stared at the screensaver on her computer monitor—a bunch of bubbles floating around and bumping into each other, changing colors.

Why was Jason here? Jessie knew he and I fell out over a year ago. Did she invite him? Did her brother? That seemed more likely. Jessie probably didn’t even realize he was here.

No need to get angry at her.

I pulled out my phone. I had a few books on it. Kept them just for this reason. Hide from a party and make people think I was just on my phone. I didn’t trust reading fanfiction in public, so I only kept traditionally-published work in my phone’s files.

I’m not sure how long I read. A half-hour, probably.

I was startled by the door opening and closing. “Whew. Dodged a bullet there,” a familiar voice said with a sigh of relief.

I looked up in alarm.

Jason was leaning against the door, eyes closed, breathing hard.

I held still. Maybe if he didn’t hear me, he’d slip back out to the party after a moment and leave me alone—and we wouldn’t have to exchange words. I watched my phone screen dim, then shut off completely, while Jason just stood there.

He opened his eyes. His gaze landed on me. “O—oh,” he said. “I… I didn’t know you were in here.”

I nodded, slowly and once. “I figured,” I said flatly. Awkward. “Did… Jessie’s brother invite you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But… one of his ex-girlfriends from high school wouldn’t stop flirting with me. So I pretty much ran away. I thought this was a bathroom.” He gestured to the room around us. “Clearly, I was wrong.” He glanced at the door over his shoulder. “I would leave, but I don’t want that girl to come after me again. Think we can get along long enough to share?”

I pushed myself to my feet, tucking my phone in my pocket. “No need. Since I came in here to avoid you, I’ll just go back to the party—and you can stay here for the rest of the night, for all I care. I will say, though, the bathroom is the next door down.”

I moved to brush him out of the way to leave Jessie’s room, but he caught my wrist. “Babydoll, wait,” he said, voice soft.

I pulled out of his grip. “Don’t call me that. I’m not yours anymore.”

“I miss you.” His big blue eyes were giving me puppy eyes.

“I miss you too. But you know perfectly well why I broke things off. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth about why he disappears all the time—and clearly can’t keep his story straight. I thought we were happy together, Jason. But when you vanish for hours at a time with no word and come back with lame excuses, how was I supposed to trust you? I doubt you were cheating on me but how would I know? And what else was I supposed to think?” I knew I wasn’t strong enough to push him away from the door—the man was 6’ and 225 pounds of muscle—but when I shoved he gave way.

I yanked open the door and shut it hard behind me. I stomped downstairs and back to the party.

“You see Jason?” Daisy asked. “He went upstairs a couple minutes ago.”

“We spoke,” I said shortly.

Daisy cringed. “Went that well, huh?”

“Part of me still loves him, but I’m definitely still ticked at him.”

She made a face. “Sorry,” she offered.

“It’s fine.” I shrugged. “Anyway. Have you even seen Jessie or her brother?”

Daisy looked around. “I said hi to her when we first got here… but no, I haven’t seen her since,” she said. I followed her gaze. A sea of people in a small suburban house outside Gotham was pretty crowded for a party, and it was hard to see if Jessie and her brother Robert were even here anymore.

“Me neither,” I muttered.

“Wonder where they went,” Daisy mused.

“I mean, with the amount of people here, I’m not surprised I can’t see them.”

“Yeah…”

Somewhere nearby, I heard glass shattering. “Uh-oh. That can’t be good,” Daisy remarked. “If Jessie’s parents find out someone broke something—”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence as a window crashed in right next to us. I shrieked and grabbed Daisy, dragging her away from the flying shards. Several of them splattered over my jacket and cascaded to the floor, but I was lucky not to get impaled by any of them. A dark figure in body armor landed on the carpet, holding a large assault rifle.

I put Daisy behind me and backed up a few steps as the music stopped. She was taller than me, but hunched over she could almost disappear behind me. At least, whoever the intruder was wouldn’t have a clear shot at her past me.

“I’m looking for Jessica and Robert Williams,” the intruder said, levelling his gun at the crowd. Someone screamed from near the stairs.

While the intruder’s attention was elsewhere, I snuck my phone out of my pocket and found Jason’s number. I sent a text as fast as I could. Get out of here. Shooter just broke in.

That was all I had the time for before slipping my phone back into my pocket like I never had it out. The intruder prowled around the crowd. “Jessica… Robert…” he singsonged. I held Daisy’s wrist behind me. “If you two don’t show yourselves in the next sixty seconds, I’m tearing up your friends.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the text on my watch. Jason Todd: I’m not leaving you.

I slid my phone out. You have to. At least call the cops.

The window on the other side of the living room shattered inward. Another dark figure swooped through and landed on the floor. My first thought was Batman—but as the figure straightened from his landing, I saw a red helmet glinting off the disco lights.

“Red Hood,” I breathed, in awe. I’d seen him a couple times. Imposing, tall, muscular. I’d only ever seen him from a distance. Seeing him up close was almost more terrifying.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you,” Red Hood said to the intruder, voice being run through some sort of ring modulator to disguise it, “that it’s rude to gate crash a party?”

The intruder growled, “Red Hood,” like an animal. My blood ran a little colder.

Red Hood stepped forward, completely unfazed. “Get out now, and this doesn’t have to get any uglier than it already is.”

“What do you care, crime boss, that I get up to a little trouble?”

“I care because everyone knows my rules. No innocents get harmed. Look around you. This place is full of innocent people.” Red Hood gestured to the party crowd. For a moment I could have sworn the eyes of his helmet lingered on me. But he was probably looking at the window. “Get out before I haul you out in a body bag.” He whipped one of his massive handguns into his hand, cocking it with the other in one practiced, fluid motion.

The intruder levelled the assault rifle at Red Hood’s chest. “Make me,” he spat.

Red Hood shrugged. “Okay.”

Bang! His handgun went off. I jumped. The intruder dropped to the floor, his rifle spraying bullets briefly toward the ceiling before stopping when he hit the carpet in a splatter of blood.

Red Hood looked around. “Everyone okay?”

A few scattered nods.

“Good. Get out on the front lawn. Wait for the cops to show up. They should be here any second,” he ordered.

The crowd rushed out the front door, bottlenecking and slowing down. Daisy included. I stayed where I was, staring at Red Hood. He noticed me not moving and came over.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

I looked down, peeling my hand away from my right side to reveal the blood soaking my shirt. “His spray. It got me,” I said, voice hoarse. My head was light and fuzzy. Not from blood loss—not yet. More likely from the shock of getting hit.

His helmet tilted down and he looked at the wound. The ring modulator distorted his whispered swearing but I still figured out what he said. “We need to get you to the hospital. Like, ASAP. And I can’t take you on my bike. Did you drive here?”

I nodded. “My car—it’s the dark green Explorer half-a-block that way.” I pointed down the street to the left with my non-bloodstained hand.

Red Hood nodded. “Keys?”

I pulled them from my other pocket and passed them over.

He swung me up into his arms and left. The crowd had cleared the front door in the time it took us to talk, so he marched across the front lawn and headed for my car. I heard Daisy call my name, but didn’t have the mental strength to call back.

As he walked down the block, each step jolting my wound, he said, “Batman, I’ve got a GSW. Taking her to the hospital. There was a hostile at a party in the suburbs. I took him down and the GCPD is on its way, but I’m moving the wounded girl.” He paused for a moment, but I couldn’t hear anything. “Yes, it’s a girl. She’s got her car here. I’m taking her in that.” Another pause. “Copy that. I’ll check in later.”

Red Hood set me gently in the passenger seat and laid it as flat as it could go. “Just hold on, babydoll. Hold on,” he said softly.

I scrunched my eyebrows as he shut the door and circled the hood to get in the driver’s seat. Once he gunned the engine, I put my clean hand on the arm of his brown leather jacket. “Why’d you call me… babydoll?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know your name, miss, and I thought it’d be more comforting.” The car pulled away from the curb.

“You just heard my friend shout my name.”

He swore again and sighed. “Fine. Just don’t freak out. You’ll lose more blood.” He pulled his helmet off with one hand. “Couldn’t see as well to drive with that thing on anyway.”

Jason’s tousled black hair, white streak at the front, puffed up a bit as the helmet freed itself from his head. I tried to sit up, but fire burned in my side and I flopped back down before I’d even moved an inch. “What?” I squeaked. “Jay?”

His eyes flicked to me briefly. Deep blue and… there was something melancholy in them. “Yeah, babydoll,” he said. “It’s me.” There was his sad smile. One I’d seen many times. “You haven’t called me Jay since…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but I remembered when I’d stopped calling him Jay and “my Jay baby.” It was about a month before I finally had enough of his excuses and lies and broke up with him.

“Is this… is this why you always disappeared for hours and came back with excuses?”

“And could never seem to keep my story straight? Yeah. I wanted…” He sighed. “I wanted to tell you so many times but Batman said it would only be safe for me to tell you if we ever got married. And even then you’d still be in danger. You made me so happy and it killed me to lie to you. Killed me even more to lose you. When you broke things off… I am not proud to admit that every criminal I fought on patrol that night went to the hospital with more broken bones than I usually leave. I love you. Still. So much so that this past year has been… empty. Without you.”

I cleared my throat of the tears clogging it. “I said to Daisy earlier tonight, when I first saw you at the party, that I’d love nothing more than to get back together with you. But I couldn’t if you were going to keep things from me again.”

“Don’t get my hopes up like that while you’re in shock, please babydoll. Because I don’t know if you mean it or if you’re babbling from the shock and have no idea what you’re saying.”

“I told you I miss you,” I pointed out.

“That doesn’t have to mean you still love me or want me back.”

“But I do. To both. Love you and want you back. You can be honest with me now. But, we can talk about it when I don’t feel like passing out from pain.”

He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Don’t you dare pass out on me. If you do, you might not wake up again. Stay awake, babydoll. Stay awake. Please.” His grip tightened on my fingers. I tried to nod, but I wasn’t feeling well. My vision was a little blurry and I was tired.

“I’ll try,” I said.

We kept driving. Jason had fallen into pensive silence.

“Alright. We’re here,” he said. He parked my car and put his helmet back on. Then he ducked out, circled the hood, and picked me up to carry me into the ER, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Just stay awake. I’ll come visit—as me—later, okay?”

I nodded. “I’d like that,” I said.

Automatic glass doors slid open. Someone yelped. “GSW,” Jason said, voice modulated again. “Right side. No exit wound.”

“Get her on a gurney!” a nurse called over his shoulder.

I hugged Jason tighter. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “Of course, babydoll.” His voice was soft. Comforting.

He set me on a gurney, and I watched him stride out of the hospital as they rolled me away.

—

When I woke up after surgery, Jason was there. Alone. Blue jeans, red T-shirt, hair a mess, and dozing in the armchair. “You look like crap,” I croaked.

He jolted and sat up. “Speak for yourself, babydoll,” he retorted. But he spoke gently. “Your family’s down in the cafeteria, getting some breakfast. I told them I’d keep you company. Your mom looked like she might murder me just for suggesting it, but I told her we made up enough to be friends at the party. So she—begrudgingly, mind you—allowed me to stay.”

“Just friends?” I asked.

He smiled and sat forward to run the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “For now. You said we’d talk about it more when you were feeling better.” He leaned back in the armchair. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Still not great, but the shock has worn off, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“I meant it, by the way,” I said. “That you can be honest with me now, so if you’re willing, we can try again.”

Jason met my eyes. There was hope in his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked.

I smiled. “Absolutely. I told you before: I miss you.”

He leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to my lips. The EKG monitor beeped a little faster as my heartrate spiked. I grabbed his shoulders as he moved away, and pulled him back to me. He smiled into my lips as I kissed him again.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He tilted his head for a better angle, and I pushed one of my hands into his hair.

The door to the hospital room opened. “What’s going on in here?” Mom demanded.

#Want You Back #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #Red Hood #red hood fanfiction #red hood imagine #DC #DC Imagine #dc fanfiction #BatFam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

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Pretty Girl - Blurb 4

A/N: I just hit 300 followers HOLY CRAP so here’s a fluffy, final blurb for Pretty Girl. I love you guys, thank you for enjoying this story and sticking around. Also, I mention miscarriage and fertility issues in this blurb. I myself experienced a miscarriage at 18 weeks with twins and am still grieving and trying to get pregnant again. I wish for my rainbow baby every day. 🤍

Summary: Pretty Girl and Flip are having a baby.

Warnings: Pregnancy, language, fertility issues, miscarriage mention, grief, labour, fluff.

Flip was busy typing away at his desk, trying to stay on top of all of his paperwork. As much as (Y/N) helped him, there were still sections of the reports he had to complete himself, and falling behind wasn’t an option right now. He sat back in his chair, taking a brief break to roll his neck when movement by the doors to the bullpen caught his eyes.

A large, round belly preceded his wife into view, and as always she took Flip off guard; seeing her glowing, beautiful face. Some baser instinct within him enjoyed seeing (Y/N) round with his child; it caused a ripple of satisfaction to course through him. When she kept moving toward him, her eyes bright, Flip jumped up, frantic.

“Darling,” He hurried to her side, hands hovering around her unnecessarily, “You promised you’d keep off your feet at much as possible. I told you I’d come to check on you shortly.” Flip watched as she laughed, rolling her eyes affectionately. She had one hand placed absentmindedly over her bump, gently rubbing circles.

At thirty-eight weeks pregnant, Flip’s wife had impressed him every day with her unwillingness to give up routine and work simply because she was with child. She insisted on staying on at the station until the baby came. And while he didn’t like her working too hard, it was nice to have her close by. This way, he could keep an eye on her and take care of her as much as possible. And she had reduced her duties at work, agreeing with Flip that overdoing things wouldn’t be good for her or the baby.

They had been married a few years now, the best of his life for the most part. Marrying your best friend had a way of making every day an adventure. Of course, not everything was sunshine for them; but they had one another and they knew they could get through anything. They always did.

When Flip had been shot in the arm the previous year, (Y/N) had marched into the hospital and, surprising everyone, punched the rookie cop in the face who left Flip open when he should have been watching his six.

Flip had never been prouder of her.

They’d stopped using protection early on in the marriage, agreeing they were both ready to start a family. But it hadn’t come easy for them, months turned into a year of no success and the light that he took for granted in his wife started to waver, just a little. When they got pregnant the first time, Flip had overcome with emotion and he nearly left the parking lot of the doctor’s office without (Y/N), who had run to the bathroom before coming outside. When he realized what he’d done and turned around, he found her standing outside laughing so hard she was crying. That had been a damn good day.

At just nine weeks pregnant, they found out that they had lost the baby. Things had changed for (Y/N) and Flip. He left the doctor's office with the heavy weight of grief, and he knew his perfect, lovely wife was more crushed than she was letting on. She had taken a leave from work, and it had been a rough few months of coming home to a quiet house, (Y/N) asleep on the couch most days. They had stopped having sex, which didn't bother Flip in itself, it was just the reasoning that worried him.

The night that (Y/N) broke down and admitted she felt like a huge failure still replayed in Flip’s mind every once in a while. The raw, excruciating pain had been so evident on her face, his pretty girl so heartbroken she felt like she was failing him. Like she could ever do anything wrong. Flip had comforted her, but more importantly, he made it clear that nothing about their pregnancy troubles or the loss of their baby was her fault. He had cried with her that night. As they clung to one another in the bath and the sun set outside. He cried for their loss. He cried for her pain. He cried with his wife and they promised each other they would have no regrets. Life was what it was. Having each other meant they could do anything, could get through anything.

The next time she got pregnant was just after he had been shot. He’d had a few weeks leave, but (Y/N) had long since returned to work, so he spent long days at home alone trying to pass the time. On one such day, he had been sitting in his favourite chair in their living room, his hand stroking over his hard length as he sought to escape, frantic and needy and so consumed in himself that he hadn’t heard her come home. What he didn't miss was the way her hand suddenly wrapped around him; his eyes had flown open and found her gazing at him with such hunger as she gripped him that he only just managed to launch himself forward, toppling them onto the floor, and take her right there.

A few weeks later, they had found out they were pregnant.

And now, (Y/N) was fully and unmistakably pregnant or, as she liked to say, ready to pop any moment. Though relatively good-natured, Flip had been a witness or victim to many mood swings, including one that had involved an ashtray being thrown at his head because he forgot to buy pickles. Christ, he never made that mistake again.

“I’ve been taking it easy, detective, don’t worry.” (Y/N) patted Flip’s arm with her free hand, smiling up at him as he fretted at her side.

Flip tried to steer her to his seat, “I know, but you could go into labour at any time and being on your feet too much-“

“Oh, well,” She was giving Flip a funny smile now, her eyes glinting, “That’s actually why I came back here. My water broke a few minutes ago.”

Flip stared down at his wife as though she’d suddenly sprouted a second head. He went entirely rigid, and all conscious thought slid out of his head, replaced with a faint ringing.

“Flip, honey, come back to me.”

“I-uh, what?” He shook his head, attempting to assemble his thoughts, “What’s going on?”

(Y/N) was giggling now, “Flip Zimmerman, my water broke.”

“Pretty girl,” He murmured, suddenly reaching out to grip her shoulders, “Are you saying...are we having a baby?”

Before she could answer, (Y/N) suddenly winced, the hand on her belly stilling and her eyes closing and she took a few deep, slow breaths. This was all it took to bring reality slamming into Flip and he instantly began grabbing his things. Shrugging his jacket on, tucking his keys and wallet into his pockets. His mind was now racing at a mile a minute. But they’d planned for this, going so far as to bring their hospital bag to work every day just in case.

“Whew, that’s a fun feeling.” (Y/N) mumbled, eyes still closed.

“Darling, are you okay to walk for me?” Flip leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, smiling at her when she opened her eyes and nodded. Taking it slow, they made their way out of the bullpen and down the hall. Flip raced behind the reception desk to grab the go-bag and (Y/N)‘s jacket.

Donna came out of the washroom as he hurried back out from behind it, her eyes spotting Flip before moving to where (Y/N) was slightly hunched over, breathing through more contractions.

“OH!” Donna cried out, clapping her hands excitedly. “Oh, it’s time! Go, go, I’ll let the Sarge know. Good luck you two, and Flip drive safely to the hospital!” She raced over and gave (Y/N) a quick hug, before turning on Flip and embracing him with happy tears in her eyes.

With a quick thank you, they were on the move again. Flip hurried ahead and got the truck, pulling it up out front of the station as his wife waddled out, looking more relaxed now that her contraction had eased up. He helped slide her into her seat, carefully buckling her in before breaking the speed limit to get the few blocks away to the hospital.

One of the perks of being a detective was that most of the hospital staff knew Flip already. So when he walked in the doors, an arm around (Y/N)‘s shoulders and a frantic look on his face, about eight nurses rushed over and began to dote on them both, one settling (Y/N) into a wheelchair while they helped Flip check them in.

In no time at all, they were settling into labour and delivery, (Y/N) now wearing the open-backed hospital gown that gave Flip a pretty nice view every time she stood at the side of her bed and leaned over to breathe through contractions. The woman couldn’t sit still; the pain and nervousness rendering her ability to relax null.

Flip rubbed her lower back, standing behind her and appreciating the strength his wife had. “What are you staring at, detective?” She asked, breaking him from his thoughts. (Y/N) was staring over her shoulder at Flip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Just, thinking about how incredible you are, darling.” He admitted, hands still kneading her skin gently.

(Y/N) hummed appreciatively, “Funny, I was going to say the same about you.”

“Ah, well, I’m not the one about to do all the hard work here, so I’ll defer all compliments for now,” Flip joked, and she laughed before hissing a breath as her next contraction took over.

“Fuck,” She focused on her breathing for a few moments, “Flip, promise you’ll stay here with me the whole time?” Her voice was surprisingly small at that moment, and he knew if he could see her face, it would be twisted in a vulnerable grimace.

He reached up and smoothed her hair back, “Pretty girl, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be at your side the whole time,” Flip leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, “You don’t worry about a thing, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

And he did, in as much as he could. Never leaving her side once, Flip witnessed every moment of labour. Labour lasted about six hours, and then he experienced every moment of the birth of their child. He held her hand throughout, rubbing her shoulder with his free hand and ignoring the pain in the one she had a vice-like grip on. Flip pressed a cool cloth to her forehead between pushing, whispering sweet nothings and praise in her ear as she cried out in pain, until suddenly (Y/N) was slumping into the pillows propped up behind her with a sigh of relief, and then the brief silence filled with a cry.

Their newborn baby gave a shrill shriek of displeasure, and Flip and (Y/N) were entirely overcome with emotion. Flip stepped forward to cut the umbilical cord. With the help of the doctor, he took hold of the baby to lay them on (Y/N)‘s chest. The baby's cries dulled somewhat then, as she clutched their baby to her skin and gazed down with so much affection he felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks, his heart so full of joy it nearly hurt.

“Congratulations, mommy and daddy!” The doctor said a few minutes later. He then took the baby to be checked over and cleaned up, across the room.

Flip leaned down and pressed his lips to (Y/N)‘s forehead, “You doing alright, pretty girl?” When she nodded sleepily, he raised his hands to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing across her soft, damp skin. “You did so well, darling. You were so strong and brave, I’m so proud of you. I love you.” He kissed her again, this time capturing her lips briefly.

(Y/N) sighed with content, “I love you too, Flip,” Her eyes were fluttering now, exhaustion pulling her toward a much-deserved slumber, though he saw them flicker to where the nurses were standing with the baby, working at swaddling them. “Will you stay with the baby?”

“Course I will, darling. Now get some sleep,” He reached down for her blankets and pulled them up, tucking her in better as the nurses that had been tidying up her lower body finished up. “Baby and I will be right here when you wake up, pretty girl.”

With one last smile, (Y/N) slipped off to sleep, her breathing evening out as Flip watched. He didn’t even feel tired, and true to his word he didn’t go anywhere, staying with her and the baby, whom he was holding when she woke back up a few hours later.

Flip slid onto the bed next to her and together they held their little bundle of joy, each staring into the little, scrunched up face with huge grins. Their little rainbow baby.

Tag list ✨

@tashastrange89 @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @morby @pradaxstyles @10blurredsmoke10 @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711

#reader insert #fanfic #adam driver x reader #fluff #flip zimmerman x reader #adam driver #friends to lovers #angst #flip zimmerman #flip x reader #blurb #thank you #pregnancy #happily ever after

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scatter-kinnin-patter · 4 years ago

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Okay that's it I NEED to gush about my c! Wilbur timeline under the cut because it's so canon divergent but my memories are so so vivid I gotta gush somewhere

Man I haven't had a kin with mems this vivid in a while so it feels weird but here we go!

Leading up to the war with Pogtopia, I was like most other Aliveburs, and p canon compliant. Philza was my dad, Tommy was my younger brother, and Techno was my twin but only older by like, five minutes. I don't know how he got so much more of the Piglin traits than I did(I remember having pointy ears tho) but... Fratenal twins I guess lol. We were close as kids, but kinda grew apart when we got older. He went off to do his own thing, I stuck around with Tommy. I missed Techno and Phil a lot in early DSMP days. But I had Tommy! Tubbo was sorta like a little brother but moreso in the "hey this is my little bro's best friend so he's over for dinner all the time" way than the "guess I have another sibling" way.

Don't have much to say on the L'manburg revolution or the election arc or anything, those were pretty much just lined up with canon.

Pogtopia arc though... Whew. Here we go. Tommy and I got exiled, we fled to our ravine, yadda yadda it followed canon. I'll admit, I quickly fell into my paranoia and delusions. I think I was alone with my thoughts for too long, and with everything Schlatt was doing and such a delicate balance on the people of Manburg being with us or against us, especially after Eret betrayed us in the past, I just. I couldn't trust anyone. Except maybe Tommy, he was my lifeline of sorts, and especially when he called Technoblade. Having Tommy and Techno really grounded me: helped me remember that I was fighting for the people I care about, not just some presidency.

And then. Well. Techno and I were talking about Manburg's destruction, Tommy was more against it but still wanted to help take Schlatt down and get Tubbo back. But Techno and I started preparing for the worst. That's when I met with Dream about the TNT thing.

Now Dream kinnies, ily, but you might wanna skip this paragraph because I'm gonna rant about my Dream for a lil bit. Not you, you're valid and I love you lots, but this is a rant against my Dream. He wasn't just going to give his TNT to me for nothing, he needed something in return. So we went back to a temporary base he set up and did our deal there. He made me sit down in a chair, bound my wrists and ankles, and made me watch... something. It was almost like a TV screen? I don't know what it was, but it took a hold of my consciousness. Whatever this was, it was hypnotism. I don't remember much about it, Dream tried to make sure I'd forget, but I remember Dream using hypnosis to plant this idea in my head that I was the villain of the story. That no matter what I had to destory Manburg because thats what a villain would do. I. Really hate him for that. He just used me. But what's done was done, he gave me my TNT and sent me back to Pogtopia.

You know where the story goes from there- my corruption, the war on Manburg, Schlatt's death... and me blowing it sky high. I remember Philza shielding us with his wings. I missed Philza so much. But I couldn't get over the hypnosis I was under. I was still the villain, and heroes have to slay the villains, right? Philza stabbed me, and he held me... and then he was gone.

Now uh... Hehe, serious canon divergence time...

I didn't die. I don't know how I didn't, but I didn't. I remember waking up in a cold room on a single bed, no windows. Couldn't leave because it was an iron door. My chest was bandaged up, and it ached like hell. Eventually someone came in, someone new: Ranboo. He kinda freezes and goes "Oh. You're awake. Uh." And just leaves and shuts the door behind him.

Shortly thereafter, Tubbo and Quackity came in. We started talking(as much as we could, I had trouble staying awake for long) about what happened. Big Q found me while going through the rubble, and realized I was still breathing, so they brought me to a secret room under L'manburg. I was in a coma, for at least a few weeks, I don't remember the exact time. I lost a lot of blood, I was very pale... and I think it messed with my brain. I couldn't really.... remember anything in the weeks leading up to the war: my exile, my hypnosis, my unfinished symphony, none of it. They looked... unsure of what to do with me. Tbh looking back I don't blame them, I did a LOT of crime. But they decided to keep me in this room for now. They didn't tell Tommy or Philza or any of them yet. Apparently only Tubbo Quackity and eventually Ranboo knew about me.

One day though, I was sleeping when I feel someone shake my shoulder. I wake up and I realize it's Dream. I ask what he's doing here and he goes "It's time to go, Wilbur." And I don't really know what to do, but I take his hand and start following him out of the building and back to the surface. They were setting up for Techno's execution. Dream sent Punz in to distract the Butcher Army, but I call out for Techno. His eyes lock with mine and I've never seen him look like that before. Such- genuine confusion and relief? Looking back, I can see why. He must've thought he was seeing a ghost(hehe ghostbur kinnies I love you)

The anvil drops, and Techno lives thanks to his totem, but before I can call out to him again Dream grabs me and starts running off with me. I think Techno saw us because he yelled for me and ran after us. Dream took us down a random tunnel and let Techno follow, because once they got far enough from the fray, Dream just... shoved me to Techno and walked away without saying anything else. Before we could really do much else, Quackity showed up. He was confused that Techno lived, he was mad that Dream just helped him, and he was furious that Techno had me. Techno made sure he was between Quackity and I and they both fought, Big Q losing a canon life(sorry Quackity kinnies ily!!!)

Techno then just grabbed me and ran. He lead me back to his house and we had a long, long conversation about what happened. I missed him so much.

I'm still piecing together memories post-execution, but I know I spent a lot of time with Techno after that, including when Tommy was with us.

I'd try to remember more but I just realized how long this post got OOPS anyways if u read all this thank u, I just needed to share my Comabur timeline

#💙wil💙#dsmp kin #dream smp kin #wilbur soot kin #I can't believe I'm calling myself Comabur

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daviddoughbrik · 6 years ago

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Baby Girl - a J. Wittek Imagine

“she wants one with jeff where you have 2 kids and get pregnant with the 3rd so jeff gets mad cause he only wanted 2 then he heard the ultra sound and cries cause he’s so happy” @jeffshikingbuddy

I hope I did it justice.

“Are you serious?” Jeff asks, his hands coming up to run through his hair. Normally, that could be a habit of excitement, but this one is of regret. “Really?”

You nod, answering his question, the excitement leaving your face.

“Y/N. How are we going to do this? We can’t raise another kid right now! We can barely handle the two we have!” he whisper-yells, trying to not bring attention to your conversation from the three-year-old and eighteen-month-old playing in your living room.

“Jeff, it’s not like I did this on my own. It takes two, you know this,” you scorn, hand slapping down on the counter beside you. Knowing tears were about to fall, you throw your hands up in defeat and head upstairs to anywhere but where Jeff and your children were. You needed to be alone.

Days and weeks go by. Your husband Jeff and you had hardly talked about the pregnancy. You did most of everything on your own. Doctors visits, cravings, crying for no reason: it was all you. Of course you’d still talk though, you loved him and he loves you. It was never anything less than love, but Jeff was scared.

“So, when do we get to find out the gender of this new baby?” he asks one morning, timidly waiting at the door as you brush your teeth.

“I already know. You don’t seem to care enough to ask me about this baby, so I didn’t feel like being the trooper in this situation,” you say blatantly, no hard feelings, just honesty, and honestly, it’s probably the hormones talking. You lean down to wash your mouth free from tooth paste and wash your face. Through soapy eyes you see your husband standing right next to you with his arms crossed. “What?”

“You know, Y/N, I’m sorry that I’m the only one worried in this situation. We have two wonderful children under five years old, Vann is still in diapers, Dax is wearing training underwear. How on earth will it be possible for us to constantly monitor three dependent humans? How! We barely have time now.” Rage and frustration bubbles up in you, but of course, sadness wins.

“Well, since you’re suddenly interested, it’s a girl, Jeff. She’s doing great, too,” your puffy eyes meeting his, and you see his eyes soften. Still, there’s no change.

“Mommy!” Dax shouts from downstairs.

“Coming, son,” Jeff replies, knowing you didn’t want your son to see you like this.

“No, Daddy. I need Mommy, not you,” Dax says.

“I’m coming, Daxxy,” you reply rubbing your face with a towel and heading out the door.

Jeff is standing there, still in shock, but still worried and upset about having another human to look after, even if it is his baby girl.

A week passes by and again, there’s not much baby talk. Dax and Vann are really excited about their new sister, and you’re really happy for a girl to balance out the future testosterone levels. Your hand rubs over the fabric of your bed spread covering your belly.

“Mommy, don’t feel good,” Dax says in the doorway, his stuffed bear cuddled to his chest.

“Come here, bubba,” you coo. “What doesn’t feel good?”

“Belly and my froat,” he whines, his little hand grabbing onto you to pull him in closer.

“You do feel pretty warm, buddy. When did this start?”

“Before dinner,” he says before bending over to clutch his stomach. “Mommy,” he cries, hot tears spilling out of his eyes. “I fink I’m gonna frow up,” he says, his face paling. You grab your three year old and run him to your bathroom, but the door is locked.

“Jeff, open up, Dax is about to puke,” you spit frantically, jiggling the door handle. It takes him a second too long, because as the door opens, Jeff is met with a tiny baby boy, throwing up tonight’s dinner on his toes. Jeff steps aside so you can step in and bring him to the toilet.

“Dax,” he says, upset. His face is red, eyes bloodshot as if he’d been crying.

“Sorry, daddy,” Dax cries. Jeff is upset, but you’re not sure if the vomit on his toes triggered it or something else.

“No, buddy, you’re sick, don’t apologize. I know you couldn’t help it,” Jeff says coming to join your comforting of your son. Dax throws up every ten minutes for almost an hour and a half. “We will have to take you to the doctor tomorrow, though bud.” Dax cries at the thought. “They’ll make you feel better buddy, I promise.”

“Buddy, would come sprite or something make your tummy feel better?” you ask, brushing his dark brown hair away from his face. He shrugs. “Do you want to try it?” He shrugs again. “How about mommy will go get you some, and you can think about it?” He nods. You push yourself up from your knees, feeling light headed as you do so, and almost stumbling. “Whew, mommy can’t bend down like that too much more.”

“Y/N, you gotta be careful. You can’t be doing that and carrying our son and stuff. You’ll go into labor,” Jeff fusses. You blow him off, as if he cares anyways.

Returning with the sprite and some cleaning supplies, you get to see the sweetest thing. Jeff is sitting in the floor by the toilet with Dax resting in his lap almost asleep. Jeff’s hands run through your son’s hair as he repeatedly kisses the top of his head. “I love you, Dax Wittek.” Not wanting to disturb the moment, you sit the sprite beside him and get to work cleaning the throw up on your hardwood floors.

“I’ll do that,” Jeff whispers. You shake your head no and continue cleaning, he doesn’t press it. The whole time you’re thinking about the new baby. Will Jeff and the new baby ever have moments like this? Does Jeff even care? Before you know it, you’re all done and setting the supplies aside. You’re lightheaded again getting up from the floor and a sharp pain stabs your lower back. Right now, ignoring it seems like the best option.

“I’ll take him, you can go to the boys bathroom and shower off the throw up if you want,” you offer, reaching for your son.

“Well, will you be able to take the boys to the doctor tomorrow? I won’t be able to take them, I have the business meeting tomorrow with the new owners of YouTube.”

“Yes, I’ll take them both,” you reply plainly.

“Then, I’ll stay up with him tonight. You’ll have enough on your hands tomorrow. I’ll see if maybe Kristen can come and help you,” he bargains. You nod and go over to brush your teeth and quickly get in the bed.

The next day, Jeff and Dax are still in the bathroom. Vann is up, alive and well through the baby monitor. Getting up, to use the bathroom, you peek in on Jeff giving Dax a bath. He’s towel drying the young boys hair, so you move on to get Vann up and dressed and ready. “Kristen is going to be here at nine. I have to leave at 8:45,” Jeff says, putting on Dax some new pajamas to go to the doctor in.

Jeff is gone soon, and Kristen arrives shortly after.

“Hey, Daxxy, I heard you weren’t feeling well,” Kristen asks, coming in the front door. She bends down to give her nephew a kiss on the head. “Uncle Scott wanted me to give you these,” she says kissing his head again.

You sigh in relief, thankful your savior and baby whisperer Kristen is here to help you and your very pregnant belly. You pick up Vanns diaper bag from the ground and there’s that sharp pain again. You gasp.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Kristen asks, dropping Dax’s hand to come over to you.

“Nothing, uh, I’ll be fine. I’ve just been having this back pain,” you groan. She gives you those worried eyes, but let’s it pass. “C’mon, boys. Let’s go get Dax better!” you cheer and Vann is clapping his hands, cooing and stumbling beside you. All is forgotten until you’re at the doctors.

Sitting in the waiting room was all fine and dandy, well, that is until you pass out face first into the cold tile floor.

The beeping, the shuffling, the mumbling muffled voices seem so far away, but how far away could they be when you’ve got hands on you at all times. You try opening your eyes, but they never flutter and you’re back out again.

There was a lot to be said about the situation you were in. “Are you going to die? What about the baby? Is the baby going to die? Oh, Y/N, baby I’m so sorry,” you hear him wailing next to you. Still, it’s as if there are miles between you. “I promise, I promise when they deliver our baby girl, I will do every thing in my power to keep you both safe. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry.” His head is on your chest, letting himself hear your heart beating for himself. “I spent too much time worrying about what was going to happen after, that I didn’t even comfort you during this pregnancy like I did with the boys and I will do everything, Y/N, everything I can to make sure you feel loved for as long as you live. Please baby, just live. I need you. The boys need you,” he cries. “I need you,” he whispers, not to you, not your stomach. “My baby girl, I need you. I need you to be okay and safe,” he’s crying louder now, or you’re coming out of the state you were in.

“Mr. Wittek, we are ready to take your wife back for her cesarean now,” the doctor says, his team of nurses flocking you. “Oh! We have some eyes now, don’t we?” the doctor says coming to grab your hand. “Welcome back, Mrs. Wittek. Thank you for joining us. Are you ready to meet your baby girl?” You only nod, but Jeff’s expression looking at you, makes you break down.

“My god, Y/N,” he cries coming to bury is tear stained face in your neck. Both of you are sobbing in each other’s embrace.

“We will give you a few minutes,” the doctor smiles, exiting the room.

There are only tears and kisses and lots of “I love you”s exchanged for a good minute.

“You missed my apology so I’ll say it again,” Jeff says pulling back from you.

“I heard you,” you whisper bringing him to a kiss. “I promise to make you feel loved for as long as you live, too. Now, can you tell me what happened? I remember being at the doctors, but that is it.”

“Well, you passed out in the waiting room, belly first. They brought you into the ER, and said that the baby was fine, just that the umbilical chord was slightly damaged. They said they’d need to deliver her, but they weren’t in too much of a hurry because the babies stats were fine. They have the monitors on her at all times, but they said that if she wasn’t delivered in the next few hours, we could lose her,” he says, sniffling again. “But, she is okay, they have the monitors on both of you. They also said she is a little bigger than when you last came in, and her survival rate is very high,” Jeff says full of hope. His hand brings yours to his mouth to kiss.

“Are we ready?” the doctor asks, and you both look at each other and nod.

They take you back to the operating room, Jeff at your head. It doesn’t take very long. You’re numb, and they’re ready to bring her out of you.

“Remember to breathe, Mrs. Wittek,” the doctor says below you. “And you too, Mr. Wittek. From what I have heard, this is your first girl,” he says making light conversation. They have small talk about it and soon the nurses are handing the towels and things to the doctor. “Well, here she is,” he says handing the small baby over the curtain separating your view. They place her on your chest, and she hasn’t made a sound yet.

Panicked eyes dance around the room, but not just yours and Jeff’s. The doctor smiles and nods to you chest where you see her own panicked eyes dancing around the room, before a deep, deep breath in. Her wails fill the operating room, and you could never be more excited to hear a baby cry.

“That’s our girl,” Jeff cries from above you. “I’m so in love.” You both are blubbering over your miracle baby girl. “She’s so beautiful. She looks just like you,” he says brushing your hair back from your face and kissing your temple.

The nurses take the baby away and clean her up really good for you before handing her back. Your gown was stripped from your chest so you could have skin to skin contact. Soon you’re back in your hospital room and it’s just you three.

“I love you, baby,” you whisper to Jeff as the newborn is sleeping on your chest.

“I love you too, both of my baby girls,” he says cupping your face, and smiling into a peck on your lips.

#vlog squad #the vlog squad #davids vlogs #vlog #vlogger #david doughbrik #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek fluff #jeff wittek angst #jeff wittek smut #jeff wittek blurb #jeff wittek headcannon #jeff wittek fanfic #jeff wittek fanfiction #jeff wittek vlogs #vlog squad imagines

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walkerismychoice · 6 years ago

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Giving In (Bryce X MC)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Dr. Bryce Lahela X MC (Dr. Charlie Hawkins)

Rating: 18+/Erotica

Summary: Charlie thinks she just wants to be friends with benefits but Bryce wants more. Will Charlie give in?

Word Count: 2019

Charlie feels a hand slip into the back pocket of her scrub pants and give her a squeeze as she stands at the nurses station reading through charts. She turns to see who it is, but she already knows. "Dr. Lahela, I'm not sure that's appropriate workplace behavior. I may need to have a chat with HR."

Bryce scans the area and drops his voice low. "Make sure to tell them about the time you jumped me in the supply closet on our first day, and when we made and while spying on Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Banerji, and-"

"Shh!" Charlie presses a finger to his lips. "I suppose I walked right into that, but now you are making me wish I had time to sneak away with you to violate the employee code of conduct again."

Bryce shakes his head. "Dr. Hawkins, I'm beginning to think you only want me for my body."

"Can you blame me?" Her gaze sweeps over him from head to toe. Even in his hospital issued surgical scrubs, he always seems to look like some hot model who stepped off the pages of a surfing magazine.

Bryce's face falls momentarily before his ever present smile reappears. "Let's go out, Charlie. On a real date."

They haven’t discussed the terms, but this is supposed to just be a casual thing, at least as far as Charlie is concerned. "It's not like we haven't ever. We saw that band the one time and then hung out at my housewarming party."

"The party doesn't really count," Bryce argues.

"I let you sleep in my bed!" Which Charlie worried in the morning had been a mistake. Sleepovers are a couple-y thing and they are not a couple.

Bryce shakes his head. “So back to the issue at hand, how does tomorrow night sound. You are off, right?”

“Actually, I picked up a shift for Landry, and I’m just super busy this week, but maybe tonight after our shifts I could come over to your place.” It would be easier to just leave his place than to have to kick Bryce out of hers.

“But it will be midnight by the time we get back. That doesn’t leave any time for any date-like activities.” Just then Bryce’s pager buzzes and he checks the screen. “I gotta run, but we’ll continue this discussion later.”

~~~~~

Charlie makes her way to the staff locker room after an extra long shift once again. It’s quiet at this off time as most of the outgoing shift has gone home and the night shift is already out on the floor, so she’s quite surprised to find a freshly showered Bryce inside, standing in his underwear.

“I’m getting a sense of deja vu here.” Charlie takes off her scrub top and moves to close the space between them. Up close she can tell that even the smell of his shampoo is reminiscent of the beach.

Bryce braces her hips, keeping a short distance between them. “Are you trying to seduce me so I’ll forget about our earlier conversation? Sorry, Charlie, but you are going to have to wine and dine me first if you want me to put out.”

Charlie chuckles. “When did you become such a prude?”

“Since I’ve noticed you keep trying to shut me out. The sex is great, incredible really, but I want to get to know you better. And I want you to like me for more than just my hands, and my mouth, and my-” Bryce shifts his eyes down towards the bulge in his boxer briefs.

“Oh, Bryce...” Charlie slides her arms around his waist and pulls him as close as he allows. “I like all of you.” She does, this isn’t a lie, but it’s also what scares her so much.

“Then show me. I’ll even meet you halfway and keep it simple. You can come by my place, get some takeout for dinner, watch a movie, talk...” Bryce waits eagerly for a reply.

“Well that doesn’t sound terrible, and I do get off at 7 tomorrow.”

“It’s a date!” Bryce flashes a big toothy grin. Charlie backs him up against the lockers and kisses him deeply. Bryce reciprocates briefly before pushing her away. “Save it for tomorrow.”

~~~~~

Charlie arrives at Bryce’s place shortly after 8pm. It’s an older building but well maintained and his decor is not far off from what she would have expected - simple, modern, dark colors. She's always caught of guard when she sees him in anything outside of his hospital attire, and she’s really liking the patterned light gray button-down and slim-fitting dark jeans on him. She watches his eyes roam over her juniper green belted shirt dress down to her tan booties and lets out a low whistle. “You look hot, Charlie.”

She smiles but waves him off. “You always say that.” She will admit her dress looks good on and she wore that color because she knows it brings out the green in her eyes.

“That’s because it’s always true.” Bryce kisses her on the cheek.

"Well, same to you. Even in your hospital issued scrubs.” Charlie takes in the scenery in more detail while Bryce takes her bag and sets it off the side. She notices the small kitchen table already set up with plates of sushi and wine glasses.

Bryce pulls out a chair for her. "Have a seat," he instructs before retrieving a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. "I don't know much about wine, but they said this riesling pairs well with sushi."

"Riesling is one of my favorites, and I Iove sushi." She takes a sip of the crisp, fruity wine after Bryce pours her a glass. "Mmm. It's perfect." They chat about their days as they eat and work their way towards deeper conversation.

“I have a very serious and important question for you,” Bryce announces.

“Okay...” Charlie nervously fiddles with the napkin on her lap.

“Cat or dog person?”

Charlie lets a laugh but thoughtfully considers her answer. “I like cats well enough, but I’m definitely a dog person.”

“Whew!” Bryce pretends to wipe sweat of his brow. ”If you would have said you hated dogs, it would have been a deal breaker.” His tone is serious but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

“So a dog is a requirement of yours?” How is he tricking her into talking about the future?

“I know my schedule doesn’t allow for me to have the time for one now,” Bryce laments, “but eventually, yes. I always had dogs growing up.”

“Me, too! My parents still have our beagle, Max we got when I was in high school. I kind of miss being jumped up on with slobbery kisses every time I come home.”

“I could make that happen for you.”

Charlie rolls her eyes. “Very funny, Bryce. Maybe that’s why your ex called you a golden retriever.”

“Ouch,” Bryce crosses his hands over his heart. “Moving on. Ready to watch a movie?”

They settle the couch and Bryce makes a selection. “Is this okay?”

“A Star is Born,” Charlie observed. “Interesting choice.”

“Did you see Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga at the Oscars? Their chemistry was on fire. I want to see what that’s all about.”

“You are full of surprises, Bryce. I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type to watch the Oscars.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Bryce admits. “I just saw it trending on Twitter."

"Wait!" Charlie picks up her phone and opens up Twitter. "Don't tell me your profile picture is you in your scrubs and a surgical cap." She types in "Dr. Lahela" because she can picture the whole setup and sure enough, the first thing that pops up is his picture just as she described. "You have quite a following Dr. Lahela." She scrolls down and reads some comments on his posts. "Dr. Sexy...You can operate on me any day...Woah, I'm not reading that one out loud."

Bryce grabs her phone and hides it behind one of the couch pillows. "And what about you? Probably too cool for Twitter and would rather go for the artsy aesthetic if Instagram. I bet you have something like a photo of a pretty sunset you took on vacation as your profile picture and a private account so you can be selective who you let in." He appears to type a couple different names to try before he pulls up a private account and flips the screen to show her. "Am I right?"

Charlie instantly recognizes the photo from her trip to Costa Rica. "You were so far off. It's a waterfall, not a sunset. She swipes the phone out of his hand and tosses it on a nearby chair."

"Hey, I was going to request to follow you, Charlotte!"

Charlie raises an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I would accept your request.” She dives to retrieve her phone behind Bryce’s back but he grabs her wrists before she can get there.

“You don’t need that anymore tonight.”

“What if the hospital calls?”

“Is your ringer on?” Bryce asks and she nods in response. “Then you don’t need to worry about it. She’s hovering over him and he relaxes his hold so she sinks further onto him, their lips not far apart. “Kiss me, Charlie.”

“What about the movie?” It’s the last thing on her mind right now, but it was his idea.

“You and I both know we would have made it 15-20 minutes tops before we got to this point. No need to delay the inevitable any further, but I do have one condition.” The way he’s looking at her, she knows you won’t be able to say no. “You’re going to stay the night with me, and I’m going to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Lahela.” She leans in and kisses him slow and deep as he releases his grip to untie her belt. The work at removing each other’s clothes piece by piece with kisses in between. “What now?”

“I want you to fuck me, just like this.” Bryce hands her a foil packet and she unrolls it onto his hard length. Straddling his hips, she guides him into her, lowering herself unhurriedly so she can feel every inch. “Fuck you’re so wet, Charlie.”

Bryce reaches up and caresses her breasts as she rides him. He circles her nipples with his thumbs and then tweaks them just hard enough, sending and intense jolt of pleasure straight to her core. She presses her palms against the hard planes of his sculpted, adjusted her angle so her clit is rubbing against him and he’s filling her completely. “Oh my god, Bryce, you feel so good.”

“You’re fucking incredible, Charlie.” Bryce rises to meet her lips and lies back down as she moves atop him faster and faster, pressure building until her dam’s about to burst

Bryce bucks his hip,moving in time with her and suddenly she’s seeing stars as her walls pulse around his cock. “Oh fuck, yes!” she cries out as feeling of euphoria washes over her.

Bryce grabs her ass and pulls her against him as he thrusts up into her. “Fuck me harder, Charlie. I’m so close.” She does as instructed and not long after he lets out a strangled moan as he cums inside her.

Charlie collapses against his chest, resting there while they both catch their breath. “Ready to head to the bedroom?” Bryce asks, sweeping messy strands of hair from her face.

“Are you tired out already?” Charlie teases, looking up to meet his gaze.

Bryce smirks.”Not yet, but after round two, you won’t be able to move.”

~~~~~

Charlie wakes up to sun peaking through the curtains and quickly remembers she’s in Bryce’s bed. He’s snuggled up against her back side, his arm draped over her, still sleeping soundly. She hadn’t been sure how she would feel this morning, but it wasn’t this. As much as it scares her, It feels perfect, like this is exactly where she wants to be.

#playchoices fanfic #open heart #bryce x mc #dr. bryce lahela #bryce lahela #n*fw #my fic

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monbebe26-monstax · 5 years ago

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TimeLine/Update:

Hey Loves! I just wanted to share an update (or even just share with you what has been going on) since I have not gotten requests out or anything out at all. (It’s kinda long):

On Tuesday (Oct. 15) I was working at my desk when all of a sudden I got a sharp pain in my upper stomach, just below the sternum. I though “whew! that was weird.” and went back to working like normal. Shortly after I got a hot flash, another huge wave of pain, and began to profusely sweat and it was like my body just gave out. I couldn’t lift my arms or my head, I could barely breathe. I was struggling not to panic.

Once I could, I sent��‘Help’ in an Skype IM to one of my coworkers and she quickly came over. She was scared, I could see it in her eyes, I was not okay. I had paled out, my lips were white and I was trembling while still sweating and in pain. I tried to shift in my seat but couldn’t. She grabbed our team lead who also had a moment and then quickly ran and grabbed a cold wet towel and cold water bottle. She put the towel on my head and tried to get me to sip the water, but I could barely lift the water and my breathing was very short. She ran to get a “mom” to help with a problem. The mom came back and saw how bad it was and knew I had no choice, to the doctor I go.

First I went to the Urgent Care and that took about an hour, they said they couldn’t help me, they didn’t have the equipment so they recommended my hospital. My best friend swapped out with my coworker and brought me to the ER. After x-rays and ultrasounds it turns out I had gallstones and lots of them. They gave me a pain medication shot, prescriptions and sent me home with a follow up to a clinic that would remove the gallbladder.

Not even 8 hours later I wake up screaming and crying in so much pain I am locked in a fetal position. I can barely move, I can hardly breathe, and my body is just sweating profusely once more. I manage to reach across the sheets and grab my phone and text my best friend (who is up and on her way to work by now) ‘ER now.’

She tried to call, several did, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t lift myself up enough to talk or to adjust enough to get the damn phone close enough. I remember having Nunugom clutched tight to my chest as I sobbed incoherently and tried not to freak out my neighbors with screams of pain. I just couldn’t form English. Twenty minutes pass (but it feels like a lifetime) and her mom calls, I’ve caught my breath enough to answer now so I do. She says, “on your street, be there in less than 5.”

She was, I was mid-change, mid-nausea episode as I open the door for her. Bile, straight yucky acid green bile, is just coming up and it won’t stop. I start sobbing again grabbing onto the frame of my sink trying to catch my breath before another round starts. She’s there shoving shoes towards my feet and my office trashcan in my hands. She grabs my phone, purse, and keys and leads me out. I threw up the entire 10 minute ride to the hospital and even more in the waiting room. They notice at one point I was the girl that was here less than 8 hours ago and indeed I am. They are quick, thankfully, and get back to a private room and into a gown. I’m still gripping the bed frame white-knuckled in pain, fighting down the screams of pain as they watch me struggle not sure what to do until the doctor gets there since they’ve done everything else.

Doctor arrives, prescribes pain killers, they give me them in a shot and soon it has me relaxing just enough to breathe and be present. They do scans, x-rays, more tests and it turns out during that short time frame a gallstone had worked itself loose, dropped down into my ducts, blocked them off, and irritated both my liver, and pancreas. I am now sitting there with gallstones, fully blocked ducts backed up with sludge (which is why I was puking straight bile), acute pancreatitis, and colitis. My body is pissed.

Within the day I had a laparoscopic procedure done and they’ve cleaned out the ducts, removed the stone, and cut enough of a slit in the duct so if one falls again it’ll let it through while they deal with all the other new issues. I am given a room upstairs and told I will be staying for an unknown time. (Still here folks, 9 days later...)

They start to treat the pancreatitis along with every thing else as well (including a fever, high white blood cell counts, vitals off the chart, etc.) and I get put NPO which means no food or water by mouth. I am miserable as the days tick by. My mouth is so dry, I’m in constant pain when they are not on time with the shots, my IVs will not stay in my skin (I had three over a course of 4 days), and they can’t seem to get any blood out of my arms for labs.

Over the weekend my pancreatitis signs went away so they let me start to sip and nibble and I was fine, until they tried whole foods and then my body freaked out and the pancreatitis came back even worse.

Now, I am 9 days in, with a PICC line in ( I call it the devil’s IV) and thankfully it is doing the trick of staying in and not being tugged every time I move. It allows them to put as much into me as they want while also being able to pause it any time to get blood when necessary. I am NPO again but they are allowing me to swish water to help keep my mouth from drying out so severely. I am getting better, and I am 100% grateful, but I am not near where I need to be to go home so I ask that you guys be my warriors, pray, wish, hope, and dream for me to get better. I miss you all so badly but I just miss life as well.

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lightyagamiis · 6 years ago

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kissing booth - eleven

Pairing: reader x tom holland Genre: some fluff and maybe some future smut. kissing booth au Warnings: none Word Count: 1.2K *inspired by the netflix film kissing booth but with my own twists*

prev - next

Groans escaped your lips as your curled over the side of the bed grasping at that trash can on the floor.

You were sick with what believed was food poisoning. Harrison came over the next morning wanting to try this new bacon he found the night before, turns out everyone enjoyed it besides you.

It felt as if you were puking for hours on end, never-ending.

"Calm down in there, don't want to throw up your whole stomach," Tom yelled from across the hall.

Since you were sick, everyone else continued their plans for the beach, well besides Tom.

Harrison offered to look after you, but Tom fought against it, sending everyone off.

The beach trip went from just a day to the whole weekend until Wednesday. It was only day three of your sickness.

Tom came into your room, gloves on his hands and a hot towel.

"You really look like shit, Y/N." Tom snickered.

You snatched the towel from him, throwing the cold one from your forehead at him, "shut the hell up!"

Tom continued his smile as he replaced the trash can with a new bag, "I was only joking, darling."

You rolled your eyes, placing the hot towel onto your forehead and relaxing back in bed.

"What is for dinner today?" You softly ask.

"I'm going to order a pizza, you're going to eat more soup."

You groaned at his words, "more SOUP?!"

"Listen, Y/N, you're sick and yesterday when I caught you in the kitchen eating chocolate you threw it up an hour later!"

You crossed your arms over your chest, pursing your lips together and narrowing eyes at him, sending daggers straight through his heart.

"Give me those looks all you want, you don't scare me." Tom teased.

"I should! You need to be terrified of me!" you snapped.

Tom shrugged his shoulders as he walked out your room with your bag of throw up, "oh I'm so scared!!!" he chanted from across the hall.

Once again you rolled your eyes and turned over to your side.

It sucked being sick, all you wanted to do was eat whatever you wanted and spend time at the beach with everyone.

Damn Harrison for wanting to try some random ass bacon. CURSE HIM TO HELL!!!

Tom came back shortly with a bowl of soup, water, and the avengers movie, "thought we could watch a movie while we wait for my pizza."

You sat up in bed, taking the soup from him. You look down at the liquid, watching how the chicken and the noodles swam around with the movements of the bowl from Tom to you.

"I'm so sick of soup!" you mumbled.

"Well, if you want to feel better, you better eat it!" Tom said placing the avengers movie in your DVD player, "where is the remote?"

"Nightstand." you replied, taking the spoon between your fingers and scooping up the chicken and noodle, blowing softly on it before sticking it in your mouth, "how many times are you going to rewatch the same marvel film?" you asked with a full mouth.

"Until I get tired of it," Tom said crawling in your bed beside you, pulling the blankets over him, "plus who doesn't like the avengers?!"

You couldn't argue with that, you didn't think anyone could actually argue with that.

Halfway of finishing your soup, the pizza guy knocked on your door, sending Tom jolting out of the bed and rushing downstairs.

You felt bad that Tom is missing out on being at the beach with his brothers and Harrison, but you also were really glad he was here with you. There wasn't any worry on if someone were to walk in on the two of you, just finally some peace.

But, the feeling you felt of keeping this secret from Sam, it continued to kill you deep inside. The time to tell him was nearing, and you knew you HAD to tell him, it was just a matter of if and when.

You knew if you kept this up, Sam would find out the hard way, and you already knew that wasn't going to be a pretty sight or easy situation to get out of.

You placed your spoon back in the bowl, watching as the rest of the noodles swarmed over the metal, staring blankly at the wall, lost in all your thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N, you okay?" Tom said, jolting you from your thoughts.

Tom was sitting beside you, back under the blankets with the pizza box in hand. You were so lost in thought you didn't even see or feel his return back.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" you said, giving him a weak smile.

Tom knew something was wrong, but figured it would be best to not press forward with it, you were sick after all, "okay then, finish up your soup."

You nodded, shoving the soup into your mouth. You told yourself the time to tell Sam would be when everyone returned home. Until then you can plenty of time to come up with some way to tell him.

You knew you couldn't just come out and say "Yo! Sam, I'm dating your older brother!" That defiantly wouldn't end well.

The clock was ticking, but you were too sick and tired to worry about it right now.

Finishing off the rest of your soup, and chugging down the water, you cuddled up beside Tom, watching at he shoved each slice of pizza down, jealous over him, but decided to just watch the movie and ignore the yummy smell of pepperoni pizza.

Before you knew it, your eyes were starting to close, not being able to keep them open.

Tom realized this, turning off the tv, "Come on Y/N, bedtime."

You didn't argue, just simply nodded, sneaking down into your bed.

Tom tucked you in, making sure the trash bin was close enough to your bed if needed.

"I'll be downstairs, okay? call if you need me."

You nodded, "You can go home if you want."

Tom shook his head, "no, if I were to go home and you needed me, I would feel like shit."

You didn't fight with him, just nodding your head.

"Can I have a kiss before I go?"

You quickly covered your face, "Tom I'm sick are you crazy?!"

Tom laughed and removed your hands, " I'm completely crazy about you."

Your cheeked flushed a light pink, "Stop you're being gross." you mumbled.

"Just let me kiss my beautiful girl."

You closed your eyes as his lips attached to yours, feeling you with complete bliss and love.

"What the fuck is going on here?!?"

Tom detached from you, his eyes wide and filled with fear.

Your heart stopped at the voice. The voice that was filled with hurt and anger, the voice that shouldn't be here, the voice of your best friend. The voice of Sam.

HI EVERYONE!!! WHEW, finally an update!!! sorry, it's taken so long! man, this story is almost over huh? two more updates left!! ahhh, can't wait!

I also want to point out once more that I would appreciate it if everyone would stop always asking for updates. I'm a college student and has so much going on outside and inside of school and family issues. I promise I'll try to update more, being this semester is almost finished so I can focus on updating in the summer, but again please don't always ask for updates! it honestly stresses me out, and when I have a lot of people asking it makes me lack motivation.

but anyways thank you SO MUCH to everyone who continues to help make this story possible by reading and giving wonderful comments and being 110% patient with me! I love you all!

also, I will no longer be taking tag lists. most of the ones I tagged didn't notice it or completely didn't interact with it at all. I understand there are silent readers, but yeah it just got too much to handle and no one was really reacting towards it.

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bluerene · 6 years ago

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river, part four [starx]

whew, okay, I’m home, it’s late, but I’m putting this out anyways. Linking parts one, two and three, aaaaaand dividing this chapter up a little bit because formatting and length were bothering me. Next chapter should be up by Tuesday night. I work both jobs back-to-back tomorrow so no chances of updates then. As always, all my love for @fireflyxrebel who literally inspired this whole thing and is practically the only reason I wrote it (the other being a sad lack of StarX content and my need to change that).

Let me know what y’all think!

bless <3

blue

Friday didn’t go by fast enough. I woke up and called in sick to work, first thing, intent on decrypting the files I’d stolen the night before. Made myself some eggs and toast, turned on the TV for morning news, set up my laptop, and plugged in the flash drive. Well, no, not true - I burned the toast, forgot to replace the batteries in the remote, and tried to set up the drive incorrectly. Twice. I was distracted. I had a date in twenty-six hours and nothing was ready.

I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, or why I was so invested in making my time with her perfect.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t stopped thinking about the kiss since it happened.

The thing about fireworks erupting in the background and angels singing is complete bullshit, by the way. There’s nothing earthshaking about it. The kiss didn’t send me to the heavens and back. It just felt right. There was this feeling of comfort that gripped me. She was warm and lovely. Her mouth moved agonizingly slowly against mine. It was torture and bliss and everything I imagined it would be.

And then it was over. She ended it, blushing as she unwound her arms from around my neck. Starfire stammered something about seeing me later and backed away, before shooting into the air.

I waited to hear the tell-tale raven’s call that so often signaled their departure, before teleporting back to my room and flopping onto my bed.

Needless to say, I didn’t get a lot of sleep. I drafted the same text about fifty times, hoping to engage her in conversation.

hey babe. Gross, delete.

that was some kiss. Too forward, she’ll get skittish, delete.

i had a really nice time last night. Where’s the charm? Delete.

i can’t stop thinking about you. It’s not a lie, but it might freak her out. Delete.

saturday, 11 am, key cove. see you there. A little dull, but it’s effective. Sent.

So yeah, stressful evening. Nervous morning. Once the files were finished loading I focused on combing through them. I didn’t like what I saw.

There were blueprints and notes, pdf versions of hastily scribbled equations and messy theories. Plans for some kind of incubation chamber. A complex formula for what appeared to be a chemical virus that could eradicate mutations in DNA. Footnotes that listed the unpredictable factors that could occur, and the ones that had occurred in test subjects.

Where they saw the likelihood of medical innovation, my clients would see the potential for biological warfare.

Shit.

I disconnected the flash-drive and wiped the files from my laptop, initiating a self-diagnostic run to sweep for any bugs that may have come with the folder. Not good, not good at all. The trade was supposed to go down later tonight. There wasn’t enough time for me to come up with an alibi or skip town.

I grimaced, already imagining the beating I would take for backing out of the exchange.

Fuuuuuuuck.

Laptop was clean, so there was a silver lining. I still had to destroy both drives and set some sort of trap for the meetup. I needed that money. I wasn’t going away from this without it.

There was a beep coming from my bedroom, which meant my burner phone had received a message. I put my laptop away and shoved the flash-drives into my pocket, curious as to who had contacted me.

12:34 pm - unknown: bring the drives tonight @ 2 am, 811 lilac rd, construction zone. we have the money.

I knew better than to respond.

My cell rang not long after, and for a moment, I was struck with the fear that they’d somehow gotten my private number and figured out who I was and where I was staying.

But the ID was different. I couldn’t help but grin as I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Oh...Red X?” Starfire confirmed, sounding a bit taken aback.

“The one and only, cutie.”

“Your voice is different.”

“I don’t live in the suit,” I replied, amused by her curiosity, “why are you calling?”

“I would like to see you tonight.”

Ahhhhh, no, beautiful, we can’t do that.

“I thought you couldn’t sneak out at night.”

“It will be difficult, but I believe I can make it work. If it is convenient for you,” she added hastily.

It really wasn’t, but how could I tell her that?

“Not a problem,” I said smoothly, “meet me at Key Cove tonight, whenever your patrol gets done. Wear something comfortable.”

“Very well. I shall see you then.”

“Sounds good.”

“X? Thank you,” she said softly.

I hung up without another word.

It was not turning out to be my day.

I took a couple of deep breaths and set my phone down, thinking hard about what I was going to do. As far as the date went, I had most things prepared. There was an Italian restaurant down the road, a little bistro called Vinum Domum. It was locally owned by an elderly couple, who were more than happy to offer me a free meal on account of the fact that it was for a date and I apparently needed all the help I could get.

Patrols usually ended between nine and eleven, depending on the route taken and the amount of crime occurring. Jump had a fairly quiet night-life. Starfire would probably show meet me around ten. I’d take her to the planetarium, we’d have a nice dinner, watch the movie I’d selected, hopefully kiss again, and wrap up just in time for me to make the deal. I had enough hours before to try and edit the files so that they were missing the doomsday parts. It would be shitty, and probably a bit obvious that I’d tampered with the drives, but it was significantly better than handing over Jump City’s death certificate.

Plan set, I put it all in motion.

I called Rosalie and Pietro Alexander right away, requesting a bottle of cider and two meals for pick-up in the evening. They made me swear to bring her by the restaurant the next time I had the chance. I laughed, trying not to entertain the idea because if I did, it would be stuck in my head forever.

I retrieved various things from around my apartment - a couple of blankets and pillows, plates, cups, utensils, the DVD I was planning on playing, popcorn, candy, and a pack of battery-operated candles. Stuffed most of it into a bag and set aside the rest to load onto my motorcycle when it came time to leave.

I worked on the files for a couple of hours. Chopped up the uglier parts, patching it up with glitching copies that (hopefully) looked like a virus had eaten away at the documents. I redacted portions of the formula, fiddled with the numbers. Deleted a couple of footnotes, added a few that emphasized the unpredictability of the science and made the data look less reliable. I kept enough information to satisfy them but removed enough to keep people safe. That was all I could really do.

I showered at eight and got a little dressed up. Black fitted jeans and shoes, a maroon button-down, an old woven bracelet that belonged to my mother around my wrist. Packed the Red X suit into the bag I had already filled, keeping the mask and belt ready for use.

All that was left was for me to wait, and I did.

An hour later, I got her message.

10:12 pm - unknown: i will see you shortly

Okay, fuck.

It was now or never.

Raven was quick to notice the scarlet blush I was undoubtedly wearing but knew better than to comment until we were safely in the confines of her room.

We teleported to the common room, where Robin, Cyborg, and Beast Boy were still waiting.

“All good?” Robin asked, rising from the couch.

Raven shrugged, sparing me the trouble of responding.

“Didn’t catch him, he was long gone by the time we arrived. Nothing was stolen, but the security officers received an alert that the main lab was breached so there’s a chance some research may have been copied.”

Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “okay, we’ll have to deal with that later. Thanks, guys.”

He was rarely so collected when an instance like this occurred. I couldn’t help the warmth that filled me when he turned my way.

“You okay, Star?”

“Hmm?” my blush deepened as I realized what he was asking, “oh, yes, I am the o and the k.”

“Lookin’ a little flushed, princess.” Cyborg teased, nudging Beast Boy with a grin.

“I am simply tired. I would like to turn in for the evening,” I replied in my most dignified tone.

“Good idea, I vote we all do it,” Raven said.

Beast Boy raised an eyebrow, “it’s not even midnight.”

“You could use the beauty sleep,” she shot back.

I giggled behind my hand, grateful for her ability to distract while I composed myself. Cyborg laughed loudly while they bickered, which had become rather frequent as of late. I believe all of us were waiting for them to ‘kiss and make up’, as Cyborg so often told them.

“Guys,” Robin interrupted, shaking his head, “it’s late. If you’re tired, go to bed, if not, make sure you lock the tower down before you leave the common room.”

“Sure thing, Dad.” Beast Boy replied, flopping back onto the couch.

Robin grumbled under his breath and cast me one more glance, before turning and exiting the room.

Raven curled her fingers around my wrist and tugged gently, “we should talk.”

“I believe that would be prudent,” I said, following her into the hallway.

She pulled me into her bedroom and onto the floor, crossing her legs and looking at me expectantly.

“Well?”

I touched my fingers to my lips and smiled faintly, “he kissed me.”

The lights flickered and Raven’s eyes flared for a moment.

“What?” She asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

I explained that I had messed with his belt and arrived at his home, where we had a short conversation.

She waited until I was finished speaking, her mouth pressed in a thin line by the end of my narrative.

“So you guys are dating?”

“We are going on a date,” I corrected, “it may not lead anywhere.”

“But you kissed.”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed it,” she confirmed.

I blushed, “surprisingly, yes, very much.”

She leaned back on her hands and sighed, “wow, okay, that’s a lot.”

“I do not mean to burden you-”

“It’s not that,” Raven reassured me, “it’s just...what about Robin?”

My heart fluttered, my stomach churned, my head ached at the sound of his name.

Raven’s eyes widened as I let my emotions flow through me, “I see.”

“Indeed,” I murmured, “my feelings for Robin are complicated. They are still there. I do not think I will ever be rid of them. But Red X makes me feel...desired. Powerful, even. He sees me differently.”

“I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how terrible of an idea this is?”

I smile, “I am well aware of the repercussions at hand, Raven. I will be discreet.”

“Azar, I hope so,” she muttered, allowing a half-smile to quirk upon her lips, “If this is what you want, I have your back.”

I squeezed her hand gratefully and stayed with her for a little while after, eager to chat about her developing relationship with Beast Boy. She kicked me out of her room shortly after, advising that I go to sleep, warning me that it would not come to me easily.

She was correct. I tossed and turned, contemplating various messages I could send him. Nothing came out of it, except for a single, full thought - I wanted to see him soon.

Just as my eyes gave way to heaviness, the sound of a message pinged from my phone, jolting me awake.

3:26 am - unknown: saturday, 11 am, key cove. see you there.

I bit my lip, thumbs hovering over the digital keyboard. X’hal, how could I possibly wait another day and a half? I could barely make it through this night, let alone another.

If I could establish a means of escape, I could attempt to see him tomorrow.

I opted to set my phone aside and try to sleep. I hoped the next morning would bring some clarity.

I continued to fret quietly for an hour, recalling the kiss over and over in my mind until it was seared in place.

I had never been kissed properly. The others might tell you they witnessed it in Tokyo with the boy on the street, or when I assimilated Atlantean from Aqualad, or when I first met Robin, but that is not true. Language transference, while not unpleasant, does not evoke any enjoyment from me. It is a skill I have used many times with many beings, regardless of how I might feel about them.

But kissing was different. It was not the hard connection between unmoving mouths, guided by a tight grip on the person’s shoulder or neck. There was no rush of thought, no compounded headache as a side-effect.

It was much softer and gentler, like the first kisses I saw so often in films and on television.

One of Red X’s hands had found my waist while the other held my wrist, rubbing circles on my skin with his thumb. His mouth moved sweetly against mine, coaxing movement from my frozen state.

I tugged my hand from his grip and wound my arms around his neck, sliding my fingers along the bottom of his mask to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He squeezed my hips and pulled me closer, drawing a squeal of surprise from my lips. He deepened the kiss, shaking with silent laughter at my enthusiasm.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was not the time, nor the place. Reluctantly, I drew back, stumbling through a goodbye before darting into the air, fighting the urge to look back at him.

I felt angry with myself afterward, for too many reasons. Angry because in a way, I had betrayed Robin. Angry because I had let it go farther than I intended. Angry because somewhere, I knew with full certainty, Raven was correct. Somewhere, something in me had attached itself to Red X. And I was happy because of it.

I slept fitfully through the night, coming in and out of lustful dreams that left me flushed and nervous and exhausted. I was no stranger to these feelings, but with Robin I felt in control, certain of the boundaries and lines we had drawn, comfortable in our established relationship. Now, every rule I had given myself had vanished. I did not know where X’s feelings stretched or where his walls were built; I did not know where he felt comfortable being touched or what he saw in me. It was unexplored territory, and it ignited a delicious fear in me that I could not help but enjoy.

Now, I suppose this was a side-effect of the many romance books I indulged in, where heroines had their hearts stolen by handsome thieves as they were rushed into a whirlwind love story. It was an idea that I found both charming and delightful on so many levels.

I woke when the first rays of sunlight peeked through my curtains. I opted to stay in my room and observe the sunrise on my own. Robin usually liked to join me on the roof most mornings, but I could not bear to be around him while I was feeling so guilty and confused and struck with the love.

Not that I was in love. But I have learned, despite what the phrase implies, that you do not have to mean you love something just because you say you do.

Once dawn had fully broken through the clouds, I considered going back to sleep, but I was too restless to crawl into bed. So I began the day.

I selected some casual garments from my closet - a pair of cropped running pants, a bright purple sports bra with black straps, and a soft blue zippered sweatshirt - and changed out of my sleepwear. It seemed like a pleasant day for a run around Titan Island. Perhaps I could practice training in the simulation hall. I felt charged by the sun, my fingertips tingling with unspent energy.

Quietly, so I would not disturb the others, I slipped out of my room and made my way to the stairwell that led to the rooftop. Robin did not usually linger there unless I was also with him.

I spent a few hours outside. I have always loved the cool taste of the air, salted by the sea breeze. I dove from the tower and allowed myself to fall until I caught onto a large gust of wind and flowed in its direction. I twisted and turned through the air, pushing myself to go faster until everything around me blurred into unfamiliar shapes.

My communicator beeped loudly from my waist and I stopped immediately, hovering in the clouds while I flipped my device open.

“Raven?”

“Starfire, where are you?” she asked impatiently, raising a hand to quiet someone beside her.

“I went out for a morning flight. Why?”

She sighed and shook her head, “Robin got worried when you didn’t join him on the roof this morning. And you weren’t at breakfast, and your communicator indicated you were in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”

I blushed, averting my gaze, “I may have flown farther than I intended. Please do not worry, I will return shortly.”

“You know,” Raven said quickly, before I could hang up on the call, “Things will never be the same between you two, but you should probably talk to him. Avoiding an issue doesn’t make it go away. He’s starting to feel like he’s losing you.”

“You cannot lose what you never had,” I said, smiling sadly, “I will see you soon.”

I did not rush back to the Tower. An ugly feeling had settled in the pit of my stomach at the prospect of seeing Robin, who would undoubtedly be frustrated and concerned for my well-being. Raven did the lessening of the situation when she explained it to me - she would only ever call to check on me if something serious motivated her.

I let myself drop lower, nearer to the surface of the water, and dipped my hands in, enjoying the cool after-splash that followed. I spied a trio of dolphins surfacing in the distance, their glistening fins cutting through the rippling sea before they burst through the blue.

I sighed, envious of their freedom. To be with the one you wanted, free to go as you pleased, unburdened by who you might hurt, or who you already have.

I knew I could not delay the inevitable for much longer.

I landed on the rooftop of the tower almost thirty minutes later and hurried to the common room, biting my lip as the doors slid open.

Raven and Robin were in a deep, seemingly heated conversation at the breakfast table, while Beast Boy and Cyborg were cooking something at the stove, their backs turned to me.

I plastered on a cheerful smile and threw my hands into the air.

“Good morning friends!”

Robin’s head snapped up at the sound of my voice, his expression alarmingly blank.

“Good morning to you too, lil’ lady,” Cyborg said with a grin, “where have you been?”

“I merely went for a flight. I apologize, I did not mean to travel so far.” I said, smiling back, “I hope I did not cause any of you concern”

Robin pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Don’t worry, Starfire, you didn’t.”

I dropped to the ground, abandoning all pretenses of happiness as he stalked past me.

“I’m not very hungry, Cy. Got work to catch up on,” he said loudly.

The doors slid shut as soon as he exited the common room, and I felt three pairs of eyes lock on me.

I slid into a seat at the kitchen counter and sighed, resting my chin against my fist.

“He is angry,” I murmured.

Cyborg and Beast Boy exchanged a glance.

“Well, y’know, Star, you’ve been kinda weird around him lately,” Beast Boy offered, rubbing the back of his neck, “he’s probably just worried about you.”

“Is everythin’ okay between you two?” Cyborg asked, touching my shoulder.

I wanted to laugh. Things had never been less okay or more uncertain with Robin and I. I felt sick to my stomach when I thought about where things were headed for us. And worse, the guilt I had felt when I kissed Red X was fading, vanishing so quickly it was as if there had only ever been happiness.

I did not tell Cyborg this. I promised him things were the O and K, and that I was the same, and we would be as well. I excused myself from breakfast quickly and hurried towards my room. I could hear heavy, angry grunts from the gym when I passed it, and the muffled sound of fists attacking a weighted bag. Robin was undoubtedly in there, forcing his fury out in a way that would protect him. I lingered by the doorway for a moment, recalling all the times when I pulled him away from his training or studied his movements with undisguised admiration.

Now it is easy for me to float by, barely sparing a glance as I catch the shadows of his form in the pale lights. This is what it feels like to bury your love so deep it cannot break from your chest. I wonder if this is what Robin feels when he glances at me, in all the moments he thinks I have not noticed his attention.

X’hal, what was I doing to myself? It was not fair to me or Robin or Red X. I could not continue to pine for one boy while tempting the other. It was not right.

The pit in my stomach grew heavier.

NEXT: what’s up with Starfire?, some Robin insight, and (finally!!!) the date

#river #part four #starx #starfire #red x #blue writes #fanfic #fireflyxrebel ily this is for u

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lavidademarimar · 7 years ago

Text

A/N: I’ve decided to make a masterlist and I’ll update it for the days I have left.

Summary: Jack dedicates himself to Elena’s recovery, with a plan in motion for the future.

Word count: 5834 (whew, a handful, but bear with me)

Warnings: post-panic attack triggers, hopefully nothing too bad.

Day Twelve - “I don’t expect you to understand, but please don’t treat me like I’m made of glass”

As predicted, Elena woke up at 5 am with a throbbing headache that made it difficult for her to see. Her body felt heavy. She took deep breaths for a while, trying to find the strength to sit up. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything in over 20 hours and threw up half the Atlantic Ocean. Her throat ached. She felt like a really bad nightmare. She saw Jack sleeping on the floor next to her bed.

‘Oh my god,’ she said. She got off the bed slowly and knelt next to him. She shook him a bit to wake him. ‘Hey, hey, birdie, wake up. Come to bed.’

He groaned and when he saw it was Elena, he stood up quickly to face her. He hugged her for what felt an eternity.

‘Jack… you’re hurting me a little bit,’ she said, breathing erratically.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ he let her go and stared at her. She had big bags under her eyes and looked a bit gaunt. She was frail and he just wanted to hold her until she felt better.

‘Do I look that bad?’ she asked, embarrassed.

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

She smiled weakly. Everything was hard. ‘I’m really hungry right now. I’m going to see what leftovers are there to eat.’

‘No. Ye will stay in bed. Ye need to rest. I will get ye some food, understood?’ he stood up quickly.

She sat back on the bed and agreed. She didn’t have the strength to fight. He kissed her cheek again and left.

Jack opened the fridge, took out the plate they’d saved for Elena, and heated the meat quickly in the microwave.

‘Mate? Why are you awake? It’s like half five,’ said Tom, who got woken up by the clinkering sounds coming from the open kitchen.

‘She’s awake and she’s hungry. I am only a humble servant,’ he said smiling as he grabbed everything and went back to Elena’s room.

‘Bloody tosser,’ said Tom as he fell asleep again.

‘We saved ye some food,’ he said, giving Elena the plate.

‘That’s so thoughtful. Thanks,’ she cut the meat and ate slowly. She closed her eyes and smiled. ‘This meat is so good.’

Jack stared at her eat. ‘I was so scared today,’ he said, putting his hand on her leg.

She looked at him and tears formed in her eyes. ‘I didn’t want you to know that side of me.’

‘I want to know every side there is to ye. What do I have to do to make ye believe me?’ he asked.

‘Let me come to that at my own time,’ she sighed. ‘I’m sorry you had to see that today.’

‘Olivia and Lucia didn’t let me do anything,’ he said, frustrated and angry.

‘I know. It’s what they have been instructed to do. Most people don’t know how to act around my panic attacks, so it’s best to cut them off to avoid me plunging deeper into wherever it is I go,’ she said calmly.

‘I want to know how to help ye,’ he said.

‘I’m not going to have another panic attack during this trip,’ she said.

‘I’m not talking about this trip, Elena,’ he said.

‘Please, let’s not talk about this now. I know we’re going to and I want to, but not now,’ she said, taking another bite.

He laid down on the bed and caressed her leg while she ate. When she was done, he grabbed the plate and put it on the floor. She stood up to go to the bathroom and brush her teeth, and came back to cuddle with him. They fell asleep shortly after.

Olivia knocked on the door before opening it just in case. It was approximately 11 am. She saw Jack wide awake sitting on the bed and Elena still asleep. He was playing with her hair.

‘How is she?’ Olivia asked.

‘Ate everything we left for her at about half five. She’s been asleep on and off since then. She’s still knackered,’ he said.

‘It’s good she ate. We’re going to go to Frente Azul for a bit and then walk around the town, okay? I think she’ll sleep for most of the day today, so if you want to come with us, you’re invited,’ said Olivia.

‘Thanks, Oli, but I’ll stay here with her. I’m not going to be good company if I don’t know she’s okay with my own eyes.’ Jack didn’t take his eyes off Elena.

Olivia smiled. ‘I figured. Well, call us if she needs anything. I don’t think we’ll be gone the whole day. We’re all a bit tired.’

Jack nodded. ‘No problem. I’ll take care of her, Oli. Don’t worry.’

Olivia grabbed the plate that was on the floor and left the room.

‘How is she?’ asked Lucia.

‘Still asleep. He’s awake, though,’ said Olivia.

Hearing that, Tom walked over to Elena’s room and opened the door. He found Jack going through his stuff, looking for a book, while Elena still slept on the bed.

‘Hey, mate. Everything all right here?’ Tom asked.

‘Yeah, mate. Seems like it. She’s bloody knackered,’ said Jack.

‘Do you want some breakfast? You don’t know when she’s going to wake up,’ said Tom.

‘Aye, yer right. I should eat something,’ he said, putting the book on the bed.

‘Olivia said you’re staying here for the day?’ asked Tom.

‘I’m not going anywhere without her,’ said Jack.

Tom laughed. ‘You know, I wish we could show this Jack to your 2013 version of yourself to see what he’d say.’

Jack punched him softly in the arm. ‘Arsehole.’

‘Jack?’ Elena mumbled from the bed, not moving much.

He fell to his knees to look at her properly. ‘Hi, birdie. I’m here. Do ye need anything?’

She barely shook her head. ‘What time is it?’

‘It’s 10:45,’ said Jack.

‘Why are you still here? Where is everyone?’ she asked.

‘We haven’t left, love. We’re starting late today,’ said Tom.

She tried to lift her head to face Tom but was unsuccessful.

Jack tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘Don’t force yerself to do anything today.’

She nodded. ‘I’m going to go back to sleep. You can go with the others if you want. I’m not going to be much company today.’

‘Don’t worry about me, Elena. Just go back to sleep.’ He gave her a kiss on the cheek and stood up to follow Tom for breakfast. Jack left the door open in case Elena beckoned.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, mate? She told you she’s going to sleep for the day, basically,’ said Harry.

Jack shook his head. ‘I’m staying with the bird and will watch her sleep for the entire day if I have to. I don’t mind.’

The boys all shared a look amongst themselves. ‘All right, mate. See you later,’ said Harry, still laughing at Jack.

‘Yer bloody wanks ye lot!’ Jack told them.

‘You’re Prince bloody Charming now. I can’t believe it,’ said Tom.

Fionn shook his head as he passed by Jack, confused by how his friend was acting. ‘Can someone explain to me where is Jack and who is this person?’ Fionn asked.

They all laughed as they got in the car. ‘I’ve no idea, mate. It’s obvious he likes the bird, and Elena’s great, but what the fuck,’ said Harry.

‘I’m baffled,’ said Tom, smiling. ‘I think it’s great, though. It was time a bird tied his balls around her neck.’

None of them understood exactly what was going on, but the minute Jack saw Elena coming out the water on a surfboard without breathing, something inside him snapped. He felt something he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t do anything yesterday and he understood why Olivia and Lucia had pushed all of them away and he respected it, but now he wanted to prove himself worthy of taking care of her. He came back into the room, she opened her eyes and moved to face him.

‘I’m sorry, Birdie. Did I wake you?’ he asked sitting on the bed.

‘No, prince bloody charming,’ she giggled. ‘I’ve been awake for a bit, but I’ll fall asleep soon to regain my strength. Would you like to join me?’ she said, scooting to make room for him. It really was a small bed for the two of them.

He smiled, lied down next to her and wrapped her in his arms. She closed her eyes and breathed into his chest. He stayed very still to not disturb her. He was treating her like a porcelain doll.

‘It feels so weird to sleep with you with our clothes on,’ she said.

He laughed loudly. There she was. She was coming back to herself. He kissed her forehead. ‘It is strange, isn’t it?’ he asked.

‘Yeah but I can do this today. I don’t want you naked around me because I don’t have the strength to blow you right now,’ she said.

‘I wouldn’t take my clothes off now even if ye begged me for it. Ye need to rest,’ he said.

‘I could beg and I would win, just so you know,’ she said smiling.

‘Ye, probably. Sleep,’ he closed his eyes and hoped she’d do the same. After moving a little trying to find a good spot, he felt her relax.

Jack woke up a couple of hours later and went to watch TV. He appreciated being by himself. He had so much to think about. He couldn’t get away. He was so in the moment, wrapped up in her and everything she had to offer, good and bad, that he didn’t care about anything else. He had never felt this way, and every time he was with her, he understood why there had never been anyone else like her in his life. He was concentrated staring out to the garden that he didn’t see Elena leave her room and snuggle up to him. She nibbled his ear to get his attention. He jumped.

‘Birdie! What are ye doing?’ he grabbed her and sat her on his lap.

‘I was a bit cold and I saw you weren’t there,’ she said. Her eyes were still droopy and she looked broken, but she smiled at him.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake ye,’ he was being very careful around her. He was scared he’d break her.

‘Don’t apologise, birdie, I don’t expect you to be a walking corpse like I am today,’ she was being self-deprecating.

‘Please, don’t say yer a corpse. Ye didn’t see yerself getting dragged out of the ocean,’ he squeezed her a little and nuzzled his face on her neck.

She straddled him, grabbed his face and pulled him close. She wanted to feel Jack against her, her new normal. He closed his eyes and moved her next to him. He didn’t go for it.

‘I can’t do that right now. Yer…’ he couldn’t even finish the sentence. What the hell was going on?

‘Jack, I’m not broken. This is just a part of who I am. I don’t expect you to understand, but please don’t treat me like I’m made of glass because it is really unnecessary and it just makes me more self-conscious,’ she sat up and spoke firmly.

Jack scratched his beard and grabbed his head, frustrated and confused. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I just want ye to be better.’

‘Well, you can fucking kiss me for starters and then you can go buy me Cool Ranch Doritos,’ she smiled.

It was true that they had only known each other for almost two weeks, but he could already see right through her. Her mouth said something but her eyes betrayed her. She was exhausted. She was putting on a show for him because she felt guilty he stayed behind for her. He smiled back and pulled her to him. The kiss started slowly but feeling her close again made Jack hungry for more. There was need and confusion. He wanted to find where he stood in her. She was the one that pushed him away.

‘I can’t breathe,’ she said. ‘You see what happens when you stop doing that for two days? You try to suck out my lungs.’

He laughed. ‘I’ll never stop doing that if ye don’t want me to,’ and he shrugged. ‘Cool Ranch Doritos then? I’ll go buy some more beer and crisps for tonight. Anything else?’

‘No, just that, I think,’ she said absentmindedly as she slid the door open to the garden. She walked over to the border of the pool and lied down there. She’d been acting like everything was fine for a bit too long and she needed to be alone again. He stared at her for a bit then stood up and left.

Elena dipped her hand in the pool and closed her eyes. She was so tired. It was difficult for her to think, let alone act and do things. Right now, her brain was fighting the exhaustion she had after every panic attack and the need it had to be near Jack all the time. She loved how he felt when he wrapped himself around her, his beard on her neck and her chest when he used her as a pillow. He made her feel beautiful and desirable, which were two things she hadn’t completely felt in a while. It was true she’d improved with therapy and she didn’t second-guess herself anymore, but this holiday with Jack she’d seen how things could be when she was with someone who appreciated her at her best and encouraged it. Not only that, but he found it arousing. Now, he faced the other side of the coin, the one she didn’t feel like showing in a holiday, but there it was. And there it had her, lying on the floor with her hand in the pool. She thought of going into the pool but she was too tired to prove anything to herself today.

Jack came back from the grocery store with some stuff he wanted and found Elena exactly like he left her. He slid the door open and stared at her without saying anything. She’d tried all day to not be a corpse recovering her strength after the hideous day she’d had just because he was around, and he’d realised that, which is why he told her he’d be going to buy some beer and crisps to give her space.

‘Ellie?’ he’d never called her that but it’s what came out of his mouth in that moment.

Her hand stopped moving in the water. She took a deep breath and pulled herself upwards and stood up slowly. She still wasn’t herself. He felt bad for disturbing her but he was met with a genuine smile on her part.

‘Why did you call me Ellie?’ she asked.

‘I’ve no idea. It’s what came out. I guess because everyone calls ye that,’ he said.

‘But I like Birdie. I think it’s cute,’ she walked closer to him and tiptoed herself to reach his mouth for a kiss. He leaned into her and smiled.

‘I found yer Doritos, by the way,’ he said triumphantly.

She clapped. ‘Yay! Thanks. You’re the best,’ she hugged him.

‘Listen, we don’t have to right now because yer recovering, but when ye feel better, I have a lot of questions about yesterday,’ he said.

Elena nodded. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less. I will answer them as I can.’

‘It doesn’t have to be now. Do ye want to watch a film?’

‘Do you want to walk around for a bit? I think fresh air will be nice,’ she made her way inside.

‘Sure. Now?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, let me put a dress on and we can go,’ she went in her room.

The others came back from the beach and were surprised to find an empty house but with new crisps and loads of beer.

‘Where do you think they are?’ Tom asked.

‘They’re probably just walking around,’ said Fionn.

‘Oooh Doritos,’ said Harry, grabbing the bag.

‘No!’ screamed Olivia. Harry dropped the bag in surprise. ‘Grab the other bags. Cool Ranch is Elena’s favourite. He probably bought them for her and she’s going to eat them later, and if you eat them she’s going to be the one that punches you this time.’

‘Duly noted, m’lady,’ Harry grabbed the other bag of crisps and sat on the sofa.

They had walked for a couple of blocks in silence but holding hands. She knew what he was thinking and she felt this need to make him realise he didn’t need to worry about her. She also enjoyed the fact that the silence between them stopped being awkward on their second day together, but today it was deafening.

‘What do you want to know?’ asked Elena.

‘I don’t want to pressure ye right now into this,’ said Jack.

She shook her head. ‘I feel better, I promise. The cool breeze does me well.’

‘How long have ye been dealing with anxiety and panic attacks?’ he asked.

‘Seven years with panic attacks. Anxiety since I can remember, but I hadn’t put a name on it until I started therapy… Could we sit over there on that pier?’ she pointed to it.

‘Of course. Are ye sure ye want to be so close to the ocean? Doesn’t that… trigger things?’ he asked.

‘Did you read the NHS page on anxiety?’ she laughed.

He was embarrassed. ‘I did.’

‘The ocean isn’t triggering for me. I’m never more at peace than when I’m at the beach. I’m just scared of drowning. Obviously, I still am,’ she kept laughing. She was nervous. She knew these questions would lead to her confiding things in him that she wasn’t sure she was ready to share. He wasn’t pressuring her but he was so genuinely concerned that she felt safe. If that makes sense.

‘Why do ye have anxiety? Do ye know?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why. I’ve been through a lot that I try to downplay and reduce its importance, but I’ve learned to avoid that. Family issues, body image issues, depression… I’ve had all of them.’

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry if this is insensitive, but ye just don’t seem like that person.’

‘I’ve been told worse. People think that because I’m outgoing and extroverted that everything is fine, but those are people that don’t pay attention. Everyone has problems. It’s complicated,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘Of course. Yer right. Has therapy been helpful for ye?’ he asked.

‘Very helpful. I had to face a lot of demons and come to terms with things that I didn’t want to, but I’m glad I did. I’m a much more complete person because of it,’ she said, looking to the ocean.

‘I want ye to be able to count on me when ye need help with this. How can I help ye?’ he asked, holding her hand.

She smiled. ‘Again, I hope I don’t have another panic attack around you.’

‘But what if it happens?’ he asked.

‘I told you I didn’t want to talk about this while I’m still like this. I know where this is headed,’ she said defensively.

He was defeated. ‘I’m sorry. I just feel all these things and I want to organise them, and I’m being selfish because yer clearly not okay, but we’re never alone and when we are we’re naked and it’s distracting…’

Elena hugged him and kissed his cheek. ‘I’m sorry. I promise we’ll talk about all these things because I feel them too, but I can’t mentally right now.’

He put his arm around her. ‘Yer so strong. I don’t know if ye fully know it.’

‘I am going to record you,’ she laughed.

‘Yer not getting rid of me anytime soon. I’ll say those things in person,’ he kissed her neck repeatedly and she giggled.

She sighed. ‘There’s no escaping this conversation, is it? I mean, whatever we say it’s going to swerve back to what we want to do after the holiday is over.’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Seems like it.’

She sighed again, staring at the ocean crashing into the rocks. ‘Well, you can go first.’

Jack talked quickly, thinking she’d stop him and refuse to discuss it, so he wanted to get the words out while he could. ‘I think we should consider the possibility of dating after we go back to our lives. I know ye have yer doubts, and I understand, but I also know that I’m not going to meet another woman like ye anywhere. Yer smart, beautiful and kind, and I know ye’ll be it. The Eurostar has a London – Brussels line and plane tickets can be cheap. We can go back and forth to see how that works and then see where that takes us…’ he stopped speaking to see how she was reacting. She had turned around completely to face him and had tears in her eyes. He wiped the tears off her face and kissed her temple.

‘We’ve been amazing. I’m terrified we’ll ruin it,’ she grabbed his arm and didn’t let go. She was almost in foetal position.

‘We have been amazing, Elena. I know all my wanker friends have told ye already, but this is very new to me and I like it and I don’t want it to stop. If ye don’t want to stop either, why should we? Ye know?’ he grabbed her hand again.

She laughed. ‘All my wanker friends…’ she said in his accent. ‘You’re right.’

‘I bloody know! Fucking traitors!’ Jack smiled and his dimples looked particularly adorable beneath his -now fuller- beard.

‘What if it’s not what we imagined? I mean, it’s pretty different to be in a holiday in a sunny place, the beach, we have sex whenever we want, we drink wine…’ her voice trailed off, ‘...than to be in our own lives in two cities while still having to cater to a mobile and a person on the other side of it,’ her voice broke a little. She was still weak.

‘Then I’m going to convince ye to move to London,’ he said, not looking at her.

‘Excuse me?’ she snapped her head to him.

He laughed. ‘Then it didn’t work, but we tried anyway. I know ye want to say yes but I don’t know why ye have a fucking voice that tells ye otherwise! I think that’s the wanker that made ye kick me out on our first day here.’

She shrieked, laughed and snuggled into him. ‘Do you still hate me for that?’

He seemed surprised for that question. ‘I was frustrated, Birdie, but I’ve never hated ye. I want to date ye and be with ye for as long as ye’ll put up with me.’

‘What if you get sick of me first?’ she asked honestly. She was being so consumed by doubt at this point that she was surprised she could continue thinking.

He laughed and put his arm around her and kissed her temple. ‘The only thing I’m going to get sick of is ye doubting yerself all the bloody time. Ye know what ye want. Tell that voice to fuck off and annoy someone else!’

She grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him deeply. Elena always believed in signs, and she desperately needed one right now. But what more of a sign than this entire holiday? They’d met on the first day and clicked immediately. They have amazing sex. He has great friends who got along with her great friends. They can talk for hours and he doesn’t seem to be scared by her or her otherworldly thoughts. They can sit in silence and it’s more intimate than the sex.

She sighed. ‘Okay, Sam Heughan. Let’s see how we do. Let’s… give it a try. You are so annoying,’ she said, not letting go of his shirt.

‘And ye are so unbelievably special. We’re only getting started, Birdie. Wait until ye see how annoying I can actually be,’ he said triumphantly, hugging her.

‘Let’s give each other a month of settling back into our lives and then we can plan to go back and forth. I don’t want to extend this holiday. I want to start this by being the smartest we can be about it,’ she said. She wasn’t in her 100% and she was already planning and making mental notes and adding colours to her planner.

‘Sounds reasonable. We can plan when we can actually spend weekends out of our cities.’ Jack had his own agenda. She’d said yes, which is what he wanted, but he was going to go to Brussels as soon as he could.

‘Are you going along to what I’m saying to not pressure me into doing things I don’t want to do?’ she was suspicious. He was absolutely transparent when he was with her.

‘Ye already said yes to dating me, Birdie. I don’t have an agenda,’ he was trying to mask his feelings. ‘Should we go back? Ye should rest.’

She nodded. ‘Great idea. I am still a bit knackered.’

They walked holding hands all the way back. They were mostly quiet. Jack wanted to tell her everything he was feeling, but he understood that she still wasn’t herself and that she needed to digest everything that had been said between them. They would give it a shot. She was terrified.

Elena opened the door to the house and they were all outside in the pool. She put her set of keys in the bowl, grabbed the bag of Doritos and made her way out.

‘Lovers! Where have you been?’ asked Harry. He was drunk again. He’d lost count on how many sangrias he’d had.

‘We went walking around so I could get some fresh air,’ said Elena as she sat down on the edge of the pool.

‘How are you feeling?’ asked Olivia.

‘I’m still tired but I’m better. Jack has been exceedingly attentive today, he’s taken good care of me,’ said Elena.

On cue, Jack popped out of the sliding door.

‘Sangria, Birdie?’ he asked.

‘Water, please,’ she turned to him and smiled. She melted him.

Tom got out of the pool and sat next to Elena. ‘Good to see that you’re better. You gave us all a fright yesterday.’

She grabbed his arm and gave him a kiss on his shoulder just as Jack was coming out with his sangria and her water. ‘If it makes you feel better, I was pretty scared myself.’

Jack sat next to Elena and gave her the water. He was absolutely unfazed by the cute gesture she did to Tom. She’d said they’d try dating. He’d won all the races and climbed all the mountains. She let Tom go and drank it slowly. Her throat still ached.

‘Why don’t you sleep early today? You still need to rest,’ said Lucia.

‘Yeah, that’s the plan. I’ll take a shower after we eat and then bed. Hey, why don’t we watch a film like you suggested before we left? I’m in the mood,’ said Elena, putting her hand on Jack’s leg.

‘Aye, I’ll set up the whole thing. Wait here,’ he said standing up and going inside.

‘Did something happen between you two?’ asked Tom, eyeing her suspiciously.

‘No, why?’ Elena didn’t feel good, but she knew when someone was fishing out information.

‘You seem… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Something happened. I know my boy,’ said Tom.

Her stomach played a prank on her and she stood up quickly without saying anything and ran to the bathroom. Jack followed her and heard her vomiting.

‘Elena, are ye all right?’ he asked, knowing what she’d answer.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she was turning out to be predictable.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

‘Mate, you don’t have to fucking follow her to the loo. Let her have some privacy,’ said Fionn, laughing, as he grabbed a beer and went outside again.

‘She’s bloody vomiting!’ he snapped. He opened the door slowly and saw her vomit again.

She stopped, sighed, and flushed. She grabbed the toilet to stand up and he grabbed her waist to support her. She opened the sink and splashed water on her face. She made gargles with water and then brushed her teeth.

‘I’m going to lie down. Sorry about the film,’ she said.

He smiled. ‘Don’t worry, birdie. Do ye want me to come with ye?’

She grabbed his face. ‘You’ve been amazing today. Go be with your friends. I’m going to be okay.’

He kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll come in a bit to check up on ye.’

She went into her room and he went outside.

‘Is she all right?’ asked Olivia.

‘She vomited. Does that happen usually?’ asked Jack.

‘I don’t really remember,’ said Olivia getting out of the pool. Lucia followed suit. They grabbed towels to dry off.

‘She said she’s going to sleep,’ said Jack.

‘Listen, Prince Charming. You’ve been good but she’s ours, okay?’ said Olivia as she slid into the house.

He lifted his hands in defeat. At this point, he knew better than to pick a fight with Olivia and Lucia, who would surely beat him.

Lucia opened the door and Elena was lying down taking deep breaths.

‘Hey, we heard you threw up. Are you okay?’ asked Lucia.

Elena sighed. ‘Yeah, I think eating the Doritos was a bad idea when I hadn’t eaten anything all day.’

The girls made their way into the bed and the three of them were wrapped in each other.

‘How the fuck has he fit in this bed for two weeks?’ asked Lucia, moving uncomfortably.

Elena laughed out loud. ‘You can ask him later.’

‘Okay, I’m sorry I’m bringing this up but why did you say the Jack thing when we were bringing Elena home?’ Olivia asked.

Lucia rolled her eyes. ‘Seriously, Oli?’

‘What Jack thing?’ asked Elena.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m curious.’

‘I told you on the first day this shouldn’t be a situation where you two crazy bitches start planning the wedding, and I firmly maintain that statement…’ Lucia started talking but Olivia interrupted.

‘But? There has to be a but!’ Olivia was very excited.

Lucia sighed exasperated. ‘I’m not saying you two are in love and you should be serious or whatever. But… this trip has proved to be more intense than all of us anticipated, and Jack is a cool guy – with some things that need to be looked at carefully – and he is… I don’t even know how to say it. He just really fucking likes you, and I don’t think you guys should waste this opportunity if both of you want to continue whatever happened here.’

Elena hadn’t told Olivia and Lucia what she and Jack had talked about, as they had agreed to keep it between them. After living in the eye of the hurricane for the whole holiday, it was time to make their ‘whatever this is’ about the two of them. She stayed quiet staring at Lucia, then at the floor, then at Olivia’s unbearable smile, then at the window. She shrugged. The voice never stopped talking. Not caring for two weeks had proven easy, but continuing this whole thing? Them living in two different cities, organising weekend trips, adjusting each other into their established lives.

What if the magic got lost in the way?

Lucia had a point when she said this shouldn’t go past the holiday, but she was also right that Elena and Jack had amazing potential. She felt surprisingly at ease with him now, and the boys had said so many times that Jack had never acted like how he was being with her that she started believing them a little; not mentioning all the times Jack and her had those little private conversations that they hadn’t shared with their friends, those little moments that belonged to them in which Jack confessed to her that she was the most special woman he’d ever met, and that he was determined to continue seeing her to see how they could fit their lives around this. They weren’t in love with each other – not yet at least, but they were both mature enough and idealistic enough to know that what had happened in the past twelve days in Portugal was pretty fucking special.

‘I’m thinking about it,’ said Elena, revealing little else.

‘I think it would be a fantastic idea,’ said Olivia.

‘Of course you do,’ said Elena and Lucia at the same time.

‘You probably have a Pinterest board already that’s called Scottish wedding,’ said Elena.

‘I won’t confirm nor deny this,’ said Olivia, hugging her.

‘You’re suffocating me!’ said Elena, laughing.

Adam, Luis and Jack were outside the room and heard the laughter. Tom took his mobile out, took a picture of the three of them and sent it to Elena.

‘This has been a really intense trip, hasn’t it?’ asked Elena.

‘A bit too much, if you ask me,’ said Lucia.

‘I’m so happy we’re finally together,’ said Olivia.

‘Me too. I also like our new friends,’ said Elena.

‘It’s absurd how we go to a small town and you manage to find a boyfriend and a group of boys that absolutely worship you. You’d make friends with the sand if it talked back,’ said Olivia.

They laughed. A knock on the door.

‘Come in!’ the three of them said as Adam, Luis and Jack stared at them.

‘Dinner’s ready!’ said Adam.

‘Are ye feeling better?’ asked Jack.

‘I am feeling better,’ said Elena sitting up.

Olivia didn’t want to let go of them. ‘Nooooo, let’s stay like this a while longer!’

Lucia and Elena laughed. ‘It’s food. Let’s go!’ said Lucia.

Elena left the room first with Jack, whose face lit up when he saw she was actually telling the truth and looked better.

Olivia and Lucia saw the whole thing and turned to each other.

They laughed. ‘What do you think she’ll do?’ asked Olivia.

‘Honestly? Right now, off the top of my head, I think they will continue it. She’ll be sceptical at first, then it will work, then she will finally allow herself to feel happiness, and she’ll end up moving to London before the end of the year. They’ll live together, he’ll propose in Scotland and they’ll end up living there with a couple of kids that are allergic to the sun,’ she stood up and went outside with Luis, who laughed at her theory. He knew she was right.

Olivia looked at what was happening outside, like a movie she was filming. She had hoped for so long that things would feel in place for all of them and in twelve days she’d had more than she’d bargained for: she was with her two best friends again, and she was finally able to see Elena enjoy herself with a guy that wasn’t an asshole and who seemed very eager to be with her. She came back to herself and saw Jack put his head on Elena’s shoulder and her play with his beard while she continued talking to Harry. Oli laughed while she felt an arm grab her by the waist and pull her inside.

‘Let’s play around while they’re all outside,’ Adam said to her ear.

She laughed. ‘Let’s.’

NEXT: Part Eight

#jack lowden #jack lowden imagine #jack lowden imagines #jack lowden x oc #jack lowden x ofc #tom glynn carney #tom glynn carney imagine #tom glynn carney imagines #harry styles #harry styles imagine #fionn whitehead #dunkirk cast imagine #fanfiction #my writing #still get anxious when I post

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robert-emmett · 5 years ago

Text

So Others May Live, a Coronavirus Story: Part Two

As promised by the mysterious author last week, another , manilla envelope wrapped package arrive at our editor’s doorstep yesterday. After taking the necessary precautions to clean the package, as the virus can live on cardboard and paper for quite some time, the editor went about transcribing the included written work.

As it was written in colored pencil and partially in hieroglyphics, this was no easy feat.

Part Two

Shortly after they’re seated in the corner booth, Brendan heads to the restroom, with a bag full of cleaning supplies and disinfectants that Terry imagines are carried by only the biggest germaphobes, or the most immaculate serial killers.

Apart from the old man in the VFW Post hat sitting at the counter, a group of high school children at the other end of the row of booths, and the serving staff, the restaurant is entirely empty. The short order cooks wait behind the counter, watching the road for more customers. When they first arrived, the waitress seemed so excited to see Terry and Brendan, for a moment they both thought she recognized them from somewhere. There’s an anxiety in the air that Terry can’t quite place.

Terry’s hands hover over his phone. In his text conversation with Jess, the last message is from her, asking when she can call next.

“Whew! This bag came in handy after what I did to that bathroom!” Brendan says, returning to his seat across from Terry.

“Brendan, could you do me a favor? Could you not loudly announce how badly you’ve wrecked every restroom you use? It stopped being funny two days ago,” Terry says.

“Wow! Okay...I guess someone woke up on the wrong side of the uncomfortable motel room twin mattress…” Terry says, eyes widening as he chortles to himself.

The waitress approaches with menus. Brendan quickly puts out a hand to stop her.

Slowly, he removes a claw-shaped device from his belt, and unfolds it. The grabber extends to exactly six feet. He pushes it forward, grips onto the menus, and precariously arcs then over to their tables.

“Can’t be too careful!” Brendan says to her, awkwardly seating the claw next to him, and pulling out disinfecting wipes to clean the menus’ surfaces.

“Sure,” she says, with a forced smile, before checking on the kids at the other end of the restaurant.

“You know, if you wanted a cleaner place, we could’ve gone somewhere other than Waffle House,” Terry says.

“We’re going on a cross country road trip, and there are no Waffle Houses in the North. This was never not going to happen Terry.”

“How do we infect her?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How do we infect Betty White with the Coronavirus?”

“Oh. Well, we’ll just have to find someone who’s sick, and get them close to each other.”

“And what happens if she doesn’t die? That’s the whole point right? She can’t just get sick, she has to die so that everyone can mourn her loss and actually quarantine themselves.”

“We’ll figure that out.”

“Brendan we’re driving across the country, breaking quarantine by the way, to kill a beloved American figure. You should have a more solid plan than ‘we’ll figure it out’.” “She’s 98 years old for God sakes! I’m sure it won’t be that hard. And right now the only planning I’m trying to figure out is which kind of Waffle I want!” Brendan says, perking up as the waitress returns.

This time she stands far away from them on her own.

“I will have this!” Brendan says, pointing to the menu.

“I can’t see what you’re pointing at because I’m six feet away,” she says.

“Right! I’ll have a pecan waffle and a coffee.”

“And I’ll have a Bacon Chicken Cheese Sandwich,” Terry says.

As Terry slides the menus back to the waitress, he looks up to find Brendan staring at him with a look of horror.

“...what?” Terry asks.

“You came to Waffle House and ordered a sandwich?”

“Yeah. It’s noon.”

“But it’s Waffle House. Would you order a burger at IHOP?”

“Brendan, I can make my own decisions.”

Brendan’s eyes narrow. He leans across the table.

“You haven’t told Jess that you were coming with me on this trip,” he whispers.

“No...I did.”

“Then why are you acting so weird?”

“...I didn’t tell her that we were driving, and that it could take a week and a half.”

“I knew it! I knew something was going on! And why not?”

“Because I knew she wouldn’t approve.”

“That’s ridiculous! You already had this week off of work before the quarantine. What’s so wrong with me that she doesn’t want us spending a week and a half on the road together?”

The waitress returns, holding a serving tray with their food in one hand.

Brendan gets his claw out, and grabs the tray. It’s heavy. The grabber buckles awkwardly. Water cups on the surface dance and spill. The entire restaurant is almost breathless watching the heavy tray rotate in the air until it arrives at their table.

The water has spilled into both of their food, making both their dishes soggy.

“Hey! I’m getting better! Didn’t drop it this time!” Brendan says.

With the sound of a pneumatic hiss, Brendan takes off his respirator, rolls it to his forehead, and begins to eat. More than once when he leans over to take a bite, the respirator on his forehead bangs into Terry’s glass of water.

“You never answered my question,” Brendan says when he’s almost done with his waffle.

“I think you answered it for me.”

Terry looks away, scanning the restaurant, the wait staff, the kids in the corner, before he takes a sip of his water.

“This tastes weird…” he says.

“We’re in the country Terry, don’t be impolite.”

After they’re done and Brendan pays, Brendan perks up at a sound.

The kids in their faraway corner booth are flicking rubber bands at each other. Brendan’s eyes look from them, to the old man sitting at the counter. He puts his respirator back on, dramatically throws the napkin on his lap to the floor, and stands.

“Jesus Christ, we can’t do this every time we stop at a - “ Brendan cuts Terry off by making a shushing sound.

He walks, slowly, across the restaurant, towards the kids. By the time he arrives, they are all looking up at him.

“Whoa,” the tallest one says, “you look like a broke - ”

“- Bane. Yes, I know. It looks like you all are enjoying a nice lunch.”

“Sure, I guess…”

“Having a good time now that school’s cancelled, I see. Just out and about with nothing to do.”

The kids exchange glances, not sure of what to say.

“Bro,” the one in shorts chimes in, “are you ok? You look high.”

They chuckle for a moment.

This is quickly silenced by the sound of Brendan slamming his fist into their table.

“I am high! High on responsibility!” he screams.

Brendan points to the old man sitting at the counter.

“What would you like him to be wearing?” Brendan asks.

“What?” the tallest one asks.

“What would you like that man to be wearing when they give him an open casket funeral because you’ve killed him WITH THE CORONAVIRUS!?”

Whatever fun the kids thought they were going to have with Brendan is gone. Maybe it’s the mad look in his eyes or the fact that he actually does sound like Bane, but they are afraid.

“We didn’t mean -”

“- didn’t mean what?! Didn’t mean to give a fuck about your fellow man!? I hope to God that one day there is a virus that only infects teenagers, whose symptoms include jizzing your pants and screaming ‘Nancy Reagan!’ everytime you’re near a girl you like! Because when that day comes, I will break quarantine as you have today!”

Silence.

“...who’s Nancy - “

“-GET OUT!” Brendan screams.

They leave in a hurry. A few of them give hushed apologies to the old man on their way out.

There is a quiet in the Waffle House as there probably never has been before. Everyone watches Brendan as he nods proudly to himself, and approaches the old man.

“Thank you for your service sir. It’s a pleasure to protect you, and all elder Americans,” Brendan says.

The old man nods before speaking.

“Son...I would prefer it if people such as yourself did not speak on my behalf. It’s a bad look for me.”

Brendan isn’t sure how to take this, so he nods deeply in return.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

---

“No mom, I can’t be immunocompromised if I broke a bone as a child…”

Jess digs around the clothes in her room. She knows her gloves are somewhere.

“But the health website I’m on says that any trauma can hamper your immune system,” her mother says, calling out from her room next door.

“Mom the Fox News Website is not a health website.”

“That’s not what I’m looking at.”

“You’re not? You’re not on Fox’s website right now mom?”

“No,” her mother says.

There is a long silence, as Jess waits.

“...I’m on the Fox News Youtube Channel.”

“Mom!”

“It’s not a big deal honey! I want to get out and walk around!”

“No mom. You stay in your room while I get groceries.”

Her eyes scan the bed, the floor. Finally, top shelf of her closet, she spots them.

“Ok I’m heading out!” Jess says, pulling on her gloves.

“Remember to buy Bleach.”

Jess puts on her coat, stops herself before she heads down the stairs.

“...is the bleach for cleaning or for drinking, because that website told you it’s a cure?”

Silence.

“...why not both?”

“Mom!”

---

With a rubber gloved hand, Brendan rings the bell at the front desk to the Motel while Terry gets the luggage out of their car.

Brendan hasn’t fully expressed his financial situation to Terry, but he’s starting to think that maybe Terry has an inkling of how bad it is by the motels Brendan is choosing to pay for. Most of the places they stay in are in tiny, one main street towns just off the highway. This one is called “Falston”. According to the town’s sign near the post office, it has a population of 526, and it’s known as “The Home of It”.

“What do they mean by it?” Terry asks as they pass the roadsign.

Brendan shrugs.

The motel they pull up to has a parking lot cracked open with weeds, goldenrod and dandelion sprouting up in the parking spots. Every time Brendan walks around on the lobby carpet, he hears squelching beneath his boots.

There is an overwhelming sense of something ominous here.

A man emerges from the backroom, the voice of Sean Hannity screaming the word “China” on TV while a blonde woman across the desk from him nods along, occasionally chiming in by saying “ISIS”.

“Can I help you?” the motel manager asks.

“One room with two twin beds please,” Brendan says.

“Hmmm. The only room we have like that is Room 207,” the motel manager says, with concern.

“That’s...fine. I guess,” Brendan says, not sure what the issue is.

From beneath the desk, the motel manager pulls out a basket. It’s filled with apples, oranges, and incense sticks. He pushes it towards Brendan.

“...thank you! Never gotten a complimentary gift basket at a motel before!” Brendan says.

“Your total for the room is $25.”

“Wow! Good for you for doing Coronavirus specials to drive up your business.”

“What are you talking about? Those have always been our prices.”

“Oh...ok! By the way sir. What precautions are you taking to ensure that the coronavirus isn’t on any of the surfaces in your rooms?”

“Peg wrings out the cleaning towel every once in a while after the rooms are wiped down.”

“Who’s Peg -”

The motel manager is already pointing over Brendan’s shoulder. When Brendan turns, he almost jumps backwards into the check-in desk.

A man covered in tattoos, with long, black and white hair draped over his face, wearing a leather vest without a shirt and ripped, oil covered jeans, stands near a mop and bucket by the lobby exit. Other than everything about him, Brendan finds it unusual that the man has a peg leg. Slowly, painfully, while he stares directly into Brendan’s eyes, the man wrings out a yellowed towel into a bucket filled with murky, brackish water.

“You thought ‘Peg’ was short for ‘Peggy’ didn’t you? Common mistake,” the motel manager says.

Brendan nods.

“The reason he’s called ‘Peggy’ is because he has a peg leg,” the manager says.

“Yes, I understand.”

---

As with all of the ratty motel rooms they’ve stayed in, Terry waits outside of the room while Brendan, almost literally, does battle with the inside of the room. Terry wanders around the internal courtyard area of the motel where the rooms face inward towards a pool. He walks around their motel room furniture, most of which Brendan has moved onto the lawn so he can fully clean the room.

Terry’s phone buzzes again. It’s a FaceTime request from Jess.

“Oh I am giving this room a deep clean!” Brendan shouts from inside the motel room, “Getting all up in those nooks and crannies - what’s this...oh wow...Oh god! I think I’ve disturbed something!”

Brendan screams.

Trying to decide whether or not to answer his phone, Terry’s finger hovers over the screen. Thudding sounds from the motel room suddenly stop.

“Ok. Ok. It’s fine. I don’t know where it’s gone but...oh sweet Jesus! It was behind me the whole time, just waiting! Terry my god, it’s intelligent!”

There’s crashing sounds and roars inside the motel room. Terry returns his phone to his pocket without answering.

He wanders over to the pool area as the sounds of Brendan’s yells quiet, and Brendan shouts something about a truce or an alliance with whatever he’s been fighting. Surprisingly, the pool is clean, the water crystal clear, shining lattice patterns on the stucco sides of the motel building. He stares into the water for a long time, well after Brendan has told him that the coast is clear and that he can return to the room.

A part of him doesn’t want to have to defend Brendan to Jess again. He wants to have his best friend in his life, even if Brendan is “strange”. No matter how many times he's tried to explain it, he feels that Jess doesn’t really understand. The fact that having Brendan as a roommate is the only thing keeping Terry and Jess from moving in is also a sore subject, one that he knows she’s going to bring up again. His friends have mostly moved away and he’s become what expected of an adult in almost every facet of his life. What’s wrong with keeping one last thing in his life that reminds him of what it’s like to be young? Everything in his life is ordered and routine. Brendan isn’t. Brendan is the kind of friend who proposes a cross country road trip, a spontaneous outing in the middle of the work week, investing in Theranos because it sounds cool. Terry doesn’t want that to be cut out of his life.

It’s been weeks since he and Jess have seen each other, and he can't be sure if the questions he’s having about the relationship are because of the situation, or because of the relationship.

---

Even though it’s over sixty degrees outside, Jess wraps her face in her scarf. Her walk to the Trader Joe’s is short. The line, however, stretches out the door and wraps around the block. No one in line is keeping their distance, and everytime she tries to keep far away from the person ahead of her, someone tries to cut her. So she has to get close. She’s bumped multiple times and brushed up against. When she enters the store, it’s so crowded that she can feel the people behind her breathing on her neck. Even though she knows she’s just being paranoid, she can feel her heartbeat getting faster.

At this point she has her process for shopping down perfectly. When she was young, her mother said that as soon as Jess could learn to write she was keeping lists and making plans. She shops for the things that are far away from the line first. Vegetables, meat, dairy. Then she gets into the line that snakes around all the store aisles, and picks up the rest of what she needs along her way. Olive oil, pasta, rice, canned food. She gets ugly looks as she slows down to pick things up, but she ignores them. An itch develops on her cheek below her right eye, and she spends the entire time in line trying to ignore it.

It’s only after she’s checked out she realizes that she can’t use Lyft anymore. By the time she’s dragged the groceries to her mom’s townhouse, her hands are stiff and her shoulders are on fire. She enters the house, takes off her outer layer and clothing, puts it by the coat rack in the foyer, goes to the bathroom, washes her hands, takes the groceries upstairs to the kitchen, washes her hands again, and then uses a disinfecting wipe to clean the surfaces of the groceries before putting them away.

When she steps out into the living room, she notices that the door to her mom’s room is open. Jess comes up to the ajar door and peeks in. Her mother is seated on the bed, back against the headboard, watching TV.

“Mom why is your door open?” Jess asks.

“It must have just come open. By the way, I’m waiting on a package, so if you see one, it’s for me,” her mother says, looking at the TV.

“Mom, did you go outside of your room?”

“...Someone rang the doorbell.”

“You went outside?!”

Her mother does not answer. She changes the channel.

“Mom, you can’t go outside, you might -”

“Jessica I have been alive for 72 years, and I will not be talked to like a child! I will go where I please!”

Her mother’s voice is loud in a way that Jess hasn’t heard in years. As embarrassed as she is to feel it, Jess is a little frightened.

“I’m closing the door…” Jess says.

“Leave it open!”

Jess does not listen. After she pulls the door shut, she goes to the kitchen to begin preparing lunch for her mom. She tries to ignore the sound of the door to her mom’s room reopening.

After she’s done making lunch, she slides the food tray into her mom’s room. Jess pauses before she leaves, and decides to close the door yet again. As she’s walking to the dining room with her lunch, her mother yells something through the door about Jess being as stubborn as her father. She keeps walking.

Jess eats her sandwich alone in the dining room. She has a sudden urge to either cry or curl into a ball beneath the table. The anxiety that creeps up into her throat is something she hasn’t felt for years, something she thought she’d dealt with. It feels ridiculous to be getting worked up over something like this, but being so isolated is making her feel crazy. She decides that she’ll call Terry. That would make her feel better. Terry is so even that no matter what she feels, he can always calm her down. It’s been a few days, so they should be back from California by now.

The phone dials a dozen times. No response.

She takes in a deep breath, puts her phone away, continues eating. Jess doesn’t consider herself to be the kind of person who checks her phone constantly for messages or calls because she wants to feel relevant. If she’s honest with herself, she hates those types of people who are desperate for attention. She considers herself to be above them. But more and more she finds she’s desperate for anything from the outside world. She finds herself counting how long it takes for friends to respond to her texts. It’s been a feeling that's been growing in her, and she hates it.

Down the hall from where she’s sitting at the table, she can see the door to her mom’s room. The door stays closed. For now.

------

With nothing to do in their motel room and nothing on TV other than college basketball reruns and the news, Terry and Brendan go for a walk. Out here, with nothing but fields and wide open spaces, they can walk around freely. It’s the first time they’ve been able to in days. It’s calming.

Around the other end of the motel’s lot there are some chairs set up at the top of the hill that overlook the highway. Peg is sitting in one of the chairs, smoking.

“Hey there! You boys wanna come over and chat?” Peg asks.

Brendan realizes that it’s the first time he’s heard Peg speak. The man sounds nothing like he looks, which is to say, “normal”.

He and Terry exchange looks.

“Sure!” Brendan says.

On his belt is a length of measuring tape which he takes out. The chairs next to Peg are about 5 and half feet away, so Brendan carefully moves them an additional six inches further.

“Pennsylvania?” Peg asks.

“Sorry?” Terry asks.

“Your plates say ‘Pennsylvania’.”

“Yeah we’re from Pennsylvania.”

“Philadelphia to be more precise,” Brendan says.

“Never been. I’ve traveled a lot but I’ve never been there. Used to be Army, so they had us move around a lot.”

“Army? I would’ve thought you were Navy because of…”

Brendan stops himself.

“Because of what?” Peg asks.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brendan can see Terry looking at him, shaking his head slightly.

“I would’ve thought you were Navy...because you have a peg leg..” Brendan says.

Peg stares at them. His jaw goes slack, as he leans forward in his chair.

“I have a peg leg?”

Neither Terry nor Brendan know what to say. Peg looks scared, confused.

Finally, he breaks into a laugh.

“God I got you!” he wails.

Both Brendan and Terry laugh, uncomfortable.

“No, no, I lost it cause I got a bad cut on a piece of metal years ago. Didn’t have insurance so I just sort of treated it myself. Bad idea. Ended up having to go to the ER. Damn thing was so infected they had to cut it off.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Peg,” Terry says.

“That’s life man! Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don’t. Same thing I think about this Chinese virus. I’ve survived worse. Everyone’s making a big deal out of it. But come on. Really? I’m not gonna change the way I live. If I want to go out and have a beer, I’m gonna do it. You know what I mean?”

“Peg, you’re talking to a man in a respirator and a lab coat. We are taking this very seriously,” Brendan says.

With a wave of his hand, Peg dismisses the comment.

“It’s not gonna be a big thing. We’ve been through worse and we’ll be through worse. Sometimes you younger people don’t know that because you don’t have perspective. I do. This will all blow over,” Peg says.

“I hope you’re right,” Terry says.

Out here, without as much light pollution, the stars stick out in the sky. The further they crane their necks back, the more the sky spreads out above them to show the shape of the cosmos.

After a few minutes, Peg gets up and goes to what looks like a shack tucked away behind a copse of trees. Neither of them ask, but Brendan and Terry assume that this is where Peg lives. When he returns, Peg is carrying a small portable radio. He puts it down by his chair and starts playing something.

“- I just believe that we as people have to understand the magnitude of this virus, that it’s scope is far beyond -

- Hold on a minute *marijuana cough*...we have a word from our sponsors. ‘Are you tired of your workouts being shit and your penis being small? Try Bone Broth by BoneZone. BoneZone, you're not really a man, not yet.’ What were you saying?

...what I was saying was that this virus can replicate in ways we haven’t even conceived -

-do you think we have aliens at Area 51?”

“I didn’t know they played Joe Rogan’s podcast on the radio!?” Brendan says.

“It would be great if we could listen to something else,” Terry says.

Peg shrugs, turns the dial.

They land on a station playing a Sturgill Simpson song. None of them speak for a while as they watch the stars.

After they say their goodbyes and Peg stays to finish up a few more cigarettes, Brendan and Terry return to the motel room.

“Hey Brendan.”

“Yeah bud?” Brendan says.

The only time that Brendan does not have his full get up on is right before bed. He still wears a facemask and gloves, but they’re toned down, making him seem human.

“This has been an interesting trip so far,” Terry says.

“You’re having fun?” Brendan asks.

“I did not say that. I said it’s been ‘interesting’.”

“In a good way I hope?”

Terry thinks about this, then nods.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to places like this. It’s interesting to see how people live,” Terry says.

“Right?! I actually grew up in a town that does not look too dissimilar to this, and let me tell you, it’s a whole different world out here. They are not prepared for what’s coming. It’s going to be a bloodbath.”

Terry nods, looks out the motel window towards the hill where Peg is sitting.

“Yeah...I guess so…”

They both get into their beds. Before Brendan turns off the light, he turns over to face Terry.

“Hey Terry?”

“Yeah Brendan?”

“When the lights go off, make sure they stay off. It doesn’t like to be disturbed as it roams.”

“...what is ‘it’?” Terry asks.

Brendan shakes his head.

“I wish I knew Terry. I wish I knew.”

The lights go off.

At some point, late in the night, Terry swears that he’s woken by the sound of Brendan whispering to something, saying that it’s an honor that they have been allowed in it’s room, and that it deserves to be treated like the deity it is.

---

The street is narrow, lined with brown and red brick townhomes, small, painted car garages, white blossoms in early bloom. In the very near horizon the Comcast Center and Liberty Place loom.

It’s so quiet. People may break quarantine during the day, but in the very early hours, well before dawn, it’s different. The emptiness feels oppressive, almost scary. It’s as if the virus has already wiped out the city’s population.

He waits at the end of the street. He’s wearing a leather jacket, jeans, boots, gloves and a surgical facemask. His head is shaven. After a deep breath, he takes off the mask and gloves, and puts them in his pocket. It comes up on it’s own, he doesn’t even need to force it. A fit of coughing. He coughs onto his hands, making sure to cover both sides.

With a quick pace, he walks down the right side of the street. Every door he passes, he touches the doorknob. Every railing that leads up to an entry, he rubs his hands over. Every early package delivery that waits at a doorstep or welcome mat, he makes sure he has his fingerprints all over. When he’s done with the right side of the street, he moves over to the left side, and covers those houses as well.

Everyday he does it, he gauges how many blocks he can hit. Some days it’s less, some days it’s more. Today he’s feeling ambitious. He walks over to the next block.

---

Before they leave the motel room in the morning, Brendan carefully arranges the oranges and apples from the gift basket in a pyramid shape by the side table near the window. He lights an incense stick and writes a note beneath the offering:

“To only be consumed by it.”

They pack up their car, and this time, Terry lets Brendan drive. He’s in a good mood today.

The moment he gets in the passenger seat he opens his phone. Jess has texted him. She says that she tried to FaceTime him, she’s asking where he is. He lies and says that they're on their way back now, that he loves her, and they’ll facetime soon.

“My guess is about a day and half more driving and we’ll be in California bud,” Brendan says.

“Can’t wait,” Terry says, and for the first time, actually meaning it.

Brendan pulls the car out of their space. As they’re driving across the lot, they see Peg, standing at the end of one of the open corridors, pushing his cleaning cart. Peg waves to them as they leave. The moment they wave back, Peg breaks into a fit of coughing. He almost doubles over. They can both still hear the dry, rattling coughs long after they’ve pulled out of the parking lot.

Brendan and Terry exchange looks, but say nothing. Neither of them mention this again on the trip.

---

Before her 8 AM call with her offshore coding team, Jess has to make breakfast for her mom. She barely slept the night before. Being indoors all day has thrown her circadian rhythm off. She feels awful.

After she cracks a couple of eggs and puts them in the pan, she remembers the package her mom was talking about. It might be some of her meds. She goes downstairs to check.

There’s a box waiting for her on the welcome mat at their front door. It’s not her mom’s meds. It’s an Amazon package, probably some books by Bill O'Reilly or another writer that would be just as equally annoying to Jess. She picks up the package. Before she goes back inside she takes a moment to get a breath of fresh air, look up at the white blossom trees on her narrow street and the looming towers that make her feel like she’s right in the middle of the city.

After she goes back inside, she’s going to wash her hands in the guest bathroom by the foyer, but she’s interrupted when she hears her mom calling her from upstairs. Something about a smell.

“Oh shit,” Jess says.

Jess drops the package and runs up to the kitchen to find the eggs just about to burn. She turns down the stovetop. After making toast, she puts together a plate for her mom, opens the door to her mom’s room, and slides the tray in. Her mom does not look in Jess’ direction when she enters. They haven’t spoken since the fight yesterday.

Jess then has to make breakfast for herself. She throws a plate of eggs together without toast and makes it to her computer just in time to get on a conference call. It’s not until much later in the day that she remembers to wash her hands, well after it’s too late.

End of Part Two

#coronavirus #corona #covidー19 #betty white

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spnblooging · 7 years ago

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This one time, at San Diego Comic Con...

Summary: You are an actress on SyFy's next big show, this is your first time at SDCC and you run into Jared Padalecki, the star of your favorite show. He invites you to a party and things get...fun.

Characters: Jared x Reader, Jensen

Word Count: 2,873

Warnings: Fluff, Smut

A/N: No diss to Gen! This is as if they never got together. I’m thinking of doing a second part to this, but what do y’all think?

It was the last day of San Diego Comic-Con and you were still feeling anxious. Sure this wasn’t your first rodeo but going to a convention as a big fancy Hollywood actress and not as a regular attendee? Well, that’s a whole other story. You were there as a guest because you starred on a new hit TV show on the SyFy channel. The show had been a huge success and everyone enjoyed it. It was your first real acting gig and you loved every second of it.

You had a rare opportunity of being able to walk the floor for the first time since you had gotten to the convention. Since you had gotten there it had been constant panels, signings and non-stop going back and forth. It was tiring, but you were having a blast. As you walked through the crowded room you were approached by a couple young girls asking for a selfie and an autograph. You of course said yes, how could you turn them down? After the two girls stopped you a few other people came up and asked who you were. You wanted to continue walking the floor but you, being the sweet person you are, talked to the few people that stood around you and answered their questions.

—

Jared’s POV

It was an exciting time at SDCC for the actors of Supernatural. They recently had started shooting their 13th season of the show and were thrilled to talk about it. They had panels and signings and met thousands of fans. It was the last day of the con and Jared Padalecki, along with his co-stars, were at the WB booth signing posters for fans. Jared looked up out over the sea of people and saw a beautiful woman with (y/h/c/) hair pinned up into vintage styled victory rolls, wearing a black and white striped shirt, high waisted jeans and to top it all off a bright red shade on her lips. She stood there with a small group of people waiting for her to autograph things for them.

“Woah.” Jared said to himself. “Hey, man, what the Hell are you staring at? You gotta keep the posters flowing.” said his co-star Jensen Ackles handing him yet another poster to be signed. “Hm? Oh, uh, just, there’s this girl.” Jensen rolled his eyes. “Come on man, now’s not the time to be scoping for hotties.” “Yeah, I know. But, who is she?” Jared asked. Jensen glanced up and peered over the crowd to see who Jared was talking about. “Oh! That’s (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). She’s on that new show, on SyFy.” Jensen said. “Wait, she’s on that show? She doesn’t look anything like she does on TV.” Jared softly chuckled.

As Jared continued to watch her he noticed she was about to walk away from her small group of adoring fans. “Hey, uhhh I’ll be right back.” Jared told Jensen. “Dude, what the Hell?” Jensen yelled at him. As Jared walked around the huge crowd of people everyone started whistling and yelling “I love you Jared!” He smiled and waved but got out of there as quickly as he could before the beautiful woman got lost in the sea of con-goers.

—

(Y/N)’s POV

After about 15 minutes or so you were finally able to step away from the few people talking to you. As soon as you took a step forward you felt a large hand tap on your shoulder. Man, I swear if this guy tries anything… You flipped around and got a face full of the tall man’s chest staring at you. You slowly looked up and to your surprise it was none other than Jared Padalecki. You felt your heart do jumping jacks in your chest and your mouth go dry. Why…? How…? Why does he want my attention? I bet he’s looking for someone else. Right? Right.

“Hi.” He finally blurted out. “Uh, h-hi.” You stuttered. “I’m Jared.” he said as he stuck out his hand. “I know.” You said flatly. Oh God I hope that didn’t sound rude… “I mean, I know who you are. I love you. I mean, I love your show. I’m sorry, I’m (Y/N).” You shook his hand and Jared chuckled, flashing you his dimples. Oh mannnnn… “Well, I was wondering…uh, would you want to go to this afterparty that’s tonight? I mean, it’s not a big thing, just a bunch of people from our show and drinks and music. It’ll be fun, I promise!” Jared nervously said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Me? I mean, yeah! That sounds really fun actually.” You smirked and felt your heart beat triple in speed. “Great! Uh, it’s at the Horton Grand Hotel, at 10pm.” Jared started to slowly back up. “Uhhh, I have to go but I’ll see you there?” He pointed at you and flashed his dimples once more. “Yes! I’ll be there!” Jared winked and jogged back to the WB booth. You turned back around and whispered to yourself “Jared Padalecki just invited me to a party? And he WINKED at me!?”

—

Once you arrived back at your hotel room you threw your purse on the closest chair and collapsed onto the bed. Shortly after letting out a huge breath of air you squealed in excitement. Okay, okay, calm yourself woman! You really were just a fangirl at heart but you definitely didn’t want to ruin the once in a lifetime opportunity you were about to have. You grabbed dinner downstairs at the hotel restaurant around 7pm and couldn’t wait until tonight. An hour later you came back to your room and headed to the bathroom to get ready.

You emerged from the bathroom 2 hours later. Your hair was styled with classic Old Hollywood waves, you wore a gorgeous sea foam colored dress and cotton candy colored high heels. Your make up was spot on and you felt sexy. Not to mention you were also wearing black, lacy lingerie underneath your dress. Ehhh, you never know. You smirked and reached for your purse. You headed out the door noting it was almost 10pm. Well, better to be fashionably late than early I suppose. You called for a cab and got to the Horton Grand Hotel about 10 minutes later.

As you walked into the hotel your palms began to sweat and your heart beat was rapid. I have no idea where to go…I should have asked him for his phone number. No…that would have been way too forward… You walked around feeling like a lost puppy when all of a sudden you spotted Jensen down the hall. He must have just got here too. He waited for the elevator and then glanced over to see you coming at him full speed. “Jensen!” “Uhh, hey, uh, (Y/N), right?” he asked. “Yes! Um, Jared invited me to this party and I’m so lost, ha..ha.” Jensen flashed you a quick smile and before the conversation couldn’t get any more awkward the elevator beeped. Whew. “Ladies first.” Jensen motioned his hand for you to board the elevator before him. You smiled politely and got on. “Sooo, um, it’s nice to meet you!” You said as you put out your hand for him to shake it. “Yeah, you too. Jared told me about you. And I’ve seen you on TV.” “He told you about me? Um, oh! Yeah, my show. Do you like it?” You asked while nervously rubbing your arm. Before Jensen could answer the elevator had reached the top floor.

You both walked out onto a beautiful rooftop patio from the elevator. There were lights surrounding the area and a bonfire with groups of people surrounding it. Jensen spotted Jared from one of the groups and waved to him. Jared waved back and then proceeded to jog over to the both of you. “Hey guys! I see you two have met.” “Yep and now I think it’s time for a drink.” Jensen said as he turned around to walk towards the bar. “Wow, uh (Y/N) you look stunning.” Jared said as he glanced back to you. “Really? Thank you.” You nervously laughed. “Let me get you a drink.” Jared said with a smile. “Okay! Um, I’ll have a Rum and Coke.” “You got it.” He winked at you again. You felt even more butterflies in your stomach than you did at the con. Okay, that’s twice now. He’s definitely flirting with me, right? A few minutes later Jared came back with your drink and a fresh one for himself. “Hey, let’s go over there.” Jared pointed to the left side of the roof. “Sure.” You said as you grabbed your drink from him.

—

Jared’s POV

Jared walked (Y/N) over to the side of the roof with their drinks in hand. It was a beautiful night and the stars were shinning bright. Everyone was having a great time talking and drinking. He could feel the warmth from everyone’s joy. “Wow, it’s beautiful out here. You can see my hotel too!” (Y/N) said excitingly. Jared chuckled and stared at her with a small grin on his face. “So,” Jared chewed on his bottom lip. “Are you enjoying the convention?” “Oh yeah! It’s so much fun. I’ve always wanted to go, but…I never got the chance before I was ‘famous.’ ” She used her free hand to put air quotes around ‘famous.’ “I mean, I’ve been to other conventions before, small ones, back home. I’m just really happy I have the opportunities I have now, ya know?” Jared smiled and took a swig of his drink. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve been doing this for so long but each convention we go to, it’s always so much fun.” She looked up at him with a grin and he couldn’t help but to lose his train of thought. “So! Speaking of home, where are you from anyway?” He asked, trying to fill the somewhat awkward silence. “I grew up in (Y/H/T), I moved to (Y/C) when I was 21. I think that’s when I realized I wanted to start acting.” She said as she stared off onto the lit cityscape of San Diego. “I would ask you, but I kind of already know the answer. Oh God, is that creepy? It’s creepy, isn’t it?” Jared laughed and shook his head. “No, no it’s not. Trust me. I’ve seen creepy and that is not creepy.” The two of them talked about each other’s pasts, presents, futures. It seemed as if time had stopped around them. Jared reached his hand out to touch hers. As they gazed at each other they heard Jensen clear his throat. They became painfully aware to how close they were standing to each other.

“Hey you two, getting comfy?” Jensen asked as he winked at Jared. Jared laughed as he glanced down at his feet. “Hope not since we’re about to start karaoke! Come on!” Jared gave him a tight smile and proceeded to grab (Y/N)’s hand to lead her to the seats near the bonfire. Man, why does he have to be such a cock block?

—

(Y/N)’s POV

Man, why does he have to be such a cock block? You were so close to Jared you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. So close to kissing him. He had grabbed your hand leading you to the bonfire. Jared sat down in one of the wicker chairs that was only big enough for him. You felt warm as you became flustered trying to find a spot to sit. But, it didn’t last long once you felt the same grip from earlier that day on your waist. Jared pulled you down onto his lap and you knew your face must have been beet red. This isn’t real. This is a dream. Karaoke was about to start, which you had to admit sounded like fun. Seeing the cast and crew of one of your favorite TV shows sing horrible pop songs? Well, you can cross that one of your bucket list. As you sat on Jared’s lap you felt the best you’d felt in a long time. All the awkward moments were gone. It was just you, Jared, the drinks in your hands and a bunch of welcoming people singing. You smiled and took another drink of your Rum and Coke.

—

The next thing you remember was getting tossed up against the wall in the hallway of a hotel. Jared had you lifted up with your thighs around his waist. He kissed your neck roughly as you ran your fingers through his hair, something you had wanted to do for a long time. He lifted you from the wall and turned around to face a door. You soon realized it was his hotel room as he pulled out the key card from his pocket with one hand while holding you with the other. Damn, this man is strong. He slammed open the door, kicked it shut and placed you on his bed. You stood up and started to *gracefully* remove your dress. You weren’t about to ruin this thing. As you slipped out from your dress Jared watched you seductively. He saw your lingerie and garter belt. “You know, you just keep getting more gorgeous.” You felt so confident in yourself in that moment that you walked over to him, while still wearing your high heels, and started to unzip his pants. He lifted off his shirt and even though you had seen him shirtless on TV before, this was a whole other level. This was real. He picked you up once more and laid you down on the bed. He kissed your lips so roughly they were starting to get sore, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want this to end. Jared had other plans though. He slowly started moving down, kissing you neck, then your collar bone, you stomach, you thighs. He got to your feet and started to take your heels off. Once he succeeded in that, you lifted up off the bed and grabbed for him, throwing both of you back down. You pushed him over and got on top of him. Now straddling him you could feel how hard he was through his boxers. The warmth of his combining with yours had you shaking. You bent forward to his ear and whispered, “I need you.”

Jared flipped you onto your back, his large arms caging you. You grabbed his neck and pulled him down on top of you, feeling him rub against your soaked lacy lingerie. Fuck. “D-do you have a c-condom?” You shakily asked. “Yeah, it’s in the drawer, hold on.” He grabbed for one and slipped off his boxers. You watched as he put it on, feeling strange that this was really happening but at the same time feeling entranced with finally seeing it. Wow. It’s…just. Wow. “Are you ready?” Jared asked. “Oh yeah.” You nodded. He unclipped your garter belt and pulled down your underwear. He leaned forward and pecked your thighs with his soft lips. From your angle all you could see was his luscious hair. He then looked up and flashed his dimples at you before going back down to suck on your clit. You quickly jolted your hips up and felt your vision start to fade. If this is what Heaven feels like then sign me up. The more he licked and sucked the stronger you felt your orgasm grow. You tightened your abdomen and felt tingles shoot through your body. Right before you were about to go over board you grabbed Jared’s hair and pulled him on top of you. “Fuck me.” you growled. Jared softly chuckled and before you were able to say anything else you felt him slam into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back. Your fingers tangled his hair and then slowly climbed down his back, feeling his sticky sweat. With every thrust you felt small explosions going off inside you. The night was filled with pushing the other over, taking dominance, being submissive. It was pure bliss. You were getting closer and closer to your orgasm and it finally happened. Your whole body tensed up and then came sweet relief. Jared came soon after you, feeling you throb against him sent him over the edge. He feel over to the other side of the bed, both of you glistening with sweat. “Wow.” you whispered. Jared turned his head towards you and chuckled. He got up on his elbow and leaned over to give you a long sweet kiss on your lips. He then went to the bathroom to clean up. Once he came back you already had your lingerie back on. “Woah, leaving so soon?” Jared seemed concerned. “Oh, um. I just thought, you would…want me to go, I guess.” “What? No, you should stay. Definitely stay.” You were relieved since you did not want to trek back to your hotel at 2 in the morning. After removing your stockings and lingerie you climbed back into bed with Jared.

#fan fiction #supernatural #spn fan fiction #jared padalecki #jared x reader #jensen ackles #smut #fluff #spn smut #supernatural smut #mine

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ogwnostalgia · 4 years ago

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Title: The Accident

Author: Diane Hoh

Published: April 1991

Tagline: She has returned. From the dead.

Description: All she wanted was one week. Of Megan’s life.

She appears in Megan’s mirror one day, nothing more than a wispy, shadowy plume, glowing with an eerie light. Her voice is faint and hollow, like a distant echo. The voice of a young girl.

Strangest of all is her request.

“I beg you to trade places with me, Megan. For just one week. Let me live again.”

Megan is overcome with fear. Yet she is drawn to the shadow in the mirror, unable to look away. Fascinated by the oddly soothing voice, she listens to a tale of a horrible accident many years before. A tale she would never forget.

Gradually, Megan begins to realize that she has no choice. As terrified as she is, she knows she must make the trade . . . .

Nostalgia Time!

I remember checking this book out of the library and reading it when I was 13/14 and staying with my dad at my grandparents’ house. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the first time I read it, but it’s the first time I specifically remember reading it. I have always loved this book! It hit my ghost-loving and body-swapping sweet-spots, and the idea of a ghost taking over your body while you just float around incorporeally was terrifying to me. Still kinda is, honestly.

I’m not sure if this book is going to hold up some 25 years after the last time I read it, but I really hope so. I’ve had some disappointment lately in this regard (looking at you, The Cheerleader), but Diane Hoh is usually pretty solid.

Recap

It’s a Wednesday in late May, unseasonably hot and humid, and we meet Jenny Winn, 16, her sister Barbie, 15, and their best friend Cappie Cabot (no word yet on age or gender) cutting their last class of the day to escape the un-air-conditioned high school. They pile into Jenny’s old yellow convertible (with fins! I’m kind of picturing Christine here, but yellow) to drive to the woods on the other side of the lake (what lake? Fuck you, there’s always a lake!), hoping it’ll be cooler there.

Cappie wishes they had Megan and Hilary with them, but says Megan probably wouldn’t cut class, and Hilary had something to do in the drama department after school. Barbie points out that Megan also had to prepare for her sixteenth birthday party.

Right about this time, they come to a curve in the road; a curve Jenny takes every day as it’s on the way from her house to the school. Only this time, the car’s steering wheel twists wildly in her hands while the tires remain straight. She stays calm enough to quietly tell Barb that something is wrong, but then panics and stomps on the gas instead of the brakes.

Yeah, uh, they smash into a utility pole. Which then breaks in half and topples onto the car. All three girls are screaming (so there’s the answer to Cappie’s gender); Barb is thrown free, away from the electrical wires hissing and spitting on the road. All she can see of Jenny is a bloody arm hanging over the driver’s door, and she can’t see Cappie at all.

Well, that was quite the first chapter.

Elsewhere, at a big old house off the lake, Megan Logan is trying on a party dress for her Sweet Sixteen party, which is eleven days away. She thinks the dress might need to be shortened by half an inch. Mm, yes, I’m sure that extra half-inch would make a noticeable difference.

We find out that Megan’s family inherited the house from Megan’s grandma when she died five months ago, and they’ve been living there for three months. No word on how long they’ve actually lived in this town, though, because it seems like Megan isn’t a new transplant or anything. Anyway, she misses Gram, because she was the only one in the family who understood Megan’s shy, dreamy ways.

She gets a call from Justin Carr, her friend and secret crush, and he asks if she’s ready for the bio quiz tomorrow. Justin also seems to understand her shy, dreamy ways, and Megan thinks about the time she was late to class because she stopped to pick wildflowers, and instead of laughing at her like literally everyone else in the class (rude!), he’d filled a beaker with water and placed the flowers on his lab table until they died.

They have some conversation, mostly about school, and Megan mentions people who are out at the lake, which seems to be basically in her backyard, and how it seems like they’re blowing off studying for the quiz. Or maybe they’re already prepared; you don’t know! Anyway, she mentions a girl named Karen Tucker, and Justin counters that the teacher, Old Ollie, won’t be fooled by Karen batting her eyelashes and claiming her book fell in the lake, because he’s not impressed by “those sexy types.”

Um, he’s a grown-ass teacher, and she’s a 15- or 16-year-old child, so I should fucking hope not, Justin.

Anyway, Megan gets feeling some kind of way about Justin referring to Karen as sexy, even though it really seemed to be meant derogatorily, and tries to get off the phone with him. She’s heard sirens somewhere beyond the lake (her window is open because her house also has no A/C), and the bad feeling she’s had all day kicks up again.

Megan thinks Justin is disappointed that she’s hanging up, but isn’t sure because he doesn’t explicitly tell her he’ll miss her when she hangs up. Jesus Christ, Megan. Then she kicks herself for not asking him to be her date to her party, and thinks that she’ll just go stag, even though her mom will throw a fit about it. Um. Since when is a birthday party an event that requires a date? Was I doing birthdays all wrong in my younger years?

As she’s getting ready to change out of the party dress, a news report comes on the radio about the crash Megan’s friends were in. The families have been informed, so the news announcer lets fly with the names of the injured. Megan is in shock. The reader finds out that “Cappie” is apparently short for “Catherine.” Also that she’s sixteen, so that answers all the unanswered questions I had about her. Except how the hell “Cappie” is short for Catherine.

Their other friend, Hilary, calls Megan to ask if she heard the news. We find out that Jenny had been so excited about the party because she’d asked Rob Lyle to go with her and he’d said yes. On the one hand, good on Diane Hoh for giving us proactive girls asking boys out! On the other hand, I can’t get over the fact that authors of teen novels in the 90s thought that everyone needed to have dates to their friends’ birthday parties.

They hang up, and Megan once again goes to take her dress off, then wonders if Jenny ever found the perfect dress she was searching for. This thought causes her to burst into tears. Suddenly, the radio falls silent, the temperature plummets, and the lights dim. Whatever could be going on, Megan wonders. Is it an earthquake?

Yeahhhh, I’ve been in multiple earthquakes, and those . . . are not things that happen during an earthquake. (Okay, maybe the lights dimming, but definitely not the rest of it.)

A voice asks Megan why she’s crying.

Megan freaks the fuck out, because she’s definitely alone in her room, y’all. She freezes, and the voice asks her again why she’s crying. She looks around until she sees a ghostly, gauzy blob in her full-length mirror. It’s vaguely human-shaped, but without arms or legs, and only light where the eyes and mouth should be. So, this, then?

Hmm. Probably not.

The figure introduces itself as Juliet, despite Megan telling her to go away and leave her alone. Juliet begs her to listen as Megan wraps herself up in the bedspread because ghosts bring their own A/C with them, even when they’re stuck in a mirror. Except she’s not actually stuck in the mirror; she’s just using it so Megan can see her.

Juliet explains that she and Megan have the same birthday, and that’s why she can talk to Megan, and she’s waited so long, you see. Juliet was born in 1930, and Megan thinks that was sixty-one years ago, but Juliet doesn’t sound like a sixty-one-year-old woman; she sounds Megan’s age!

Um, Megan? She’s clearly a ghost. Who probably died much younger than her sixties. Try to keep up, okay?

Indeed, Juliet goes on to tell Megan that she was pretty and popular, and died in a boating accident shortly before the huge sweet sixteen party she was supposed to have. Megan knows the area of the lake she died in; it’s a dangerous cove filled with jagged rocks and underwater undergrowth. Juliet couldn’t swim, but it wouldn’t have made much difference as she hit her head and was knocked unconscious as she fell out of the boat. By the time she was retrieved from the underwater tangles of weeds, she was dead.

Juliet sobs, and Megan starts crying again, too, telling Juliet it’s horrible, but going on to deny any of this is happening. Juliet seems distressed that she made Megan cry again, thanks her for listening, and leaves. The lights and radio come back on, and the room is swelteringly hot again. Megan goes to bed, telling herself that she’s actually been asleep for hours and dreamed the whole thing.

When she wakes up in the morning, she immediately looks to the mirror. It’s empty.

Whew, amirite? (I mean, no. I want ghosts in my stories, goddammit!)

The next morning is cloudy but still suffocatingly hot. Megan gets ready for school, still convinced Juliet was a dream, but casting nervous glances at the mirror the whole time she’s in her room. She rides her bike to school, and finds her friend Hilary Bench, who talked to Jenny and Barb’s mom. All the girls are alive; Barbie is okay because she was thrown free, so she’ll be leaving the hospital today; Cappie has a broken wrist; Jenny has a serious head injury and a shattered collarbone. Additionally, nobody was wearing a seatbelt because the car is too old to have them – Mr. Winn had them on order, but they hadn’t come in yet.

I’m not sure how old this car is supposed to be, honestly. I’m picturing 50s due to the fins, but I know my mom had a car in the 70s that didn’t come with seatbelts, although Google tells me that seatbelts were mandatory in all cars manufactured after 1968. It’s possible the car my mom was talking about was a few years old when she owned it. All I know is, my brother rode around in a car without seatbelts when he was little, and he was born in 1969, so . . .

Anyway.

Megan shudders – her friends could have died, just like poor Juliet! Except then she reminds herself that Juliet was just a dream. Mmhmm, keep telling yourself that.

All day she feels like someone is watching her, although she can’t catch anyone actually looking at her. At lunch, she, Justin, and Hilary try to figure out what made Jenny crash, and they speculate that the steering was messed with. The sheriff is investigating, so you know it’s SRS BSNS. Or at least as serious as authority figures are allowed to be in Point Horror.

Hilary is upset that Jenny won’t get to finish the school year with them, then changes the subject (apparently Hilary “could switch moods as easily as she changed a T-shirt”) to talk about Donny Richardson asking her out. Donny is a fucking loser, and she pretty much said that to his face. Megan is scandalized, but Hilary points out that if you’re nice to guys like Donny, they’ll never take the fucking hint. Then it’s revealed that Donny is basically a fucking incel “Nice Guy,” who stomped off like an R.L. Stine Angry Boi when Jenny politely turned him down, and blew up in a rage, yelling in the hallway at Cappie when she turned him down.

To cap this off, Justin defends him, saying he’s not a bad guy, but he’s got his limits like everyone else. Umm . . . Megan, your guy might be trash. He’s defending trash, so . . . I’ve not got a great feeling here.

It’s insinuated that Hilary suspects Donny of tampering with the car, but Megan feels sorry for him because his parents are divorced and he has to go back and forth between their houses. Fucking spare me. Hilary points out that her parents are divorced, too, and she’s not a fucking asshole, then goes on to say that Megan always feels sorry for people and just doesn’t understand that there are shitty people out there who are shitty for no other reason than that they’re shitty people. Which is a good point, and I’ll be thrilled if we can make it to the end of the book without the reason going on to be “because they’re crazy, and crazy people don’t need a reason for doing terrible things because the reason is that they’re CRAZY!” Please don’t let me down, Hoh.

In Art class, Megan notices a piece of red construction paper sticking out of her cubbyhole (. . . not a euphemism . . . ?), and thinks it’s weird because she hasn’t used red construction paper lately. Yeah, I don’t think I’ve used construction paper since kindergarten. Which, I believe, is the last time I had a cubby at school, too.

It’s a drawing (in crayon? I don’t think it’s explicitly said, but that’s what I’m picturing) of a yellow convertible with a horse wearing a beaded necklace in the driver’s seat; a candy bar and a bumblebee on the seat next to it; and a baseball cap and a green ball in the backseat. Megan figures out that the ball is a pea and puts it all together that it’s bar + bee and cap + pea, but can’t figure out why Jenny is drawn as a horse.

Okay. I hate these picture puzzles. I’ve always found them dumb, then I realized I’m just really bad at them for some reason. We’ve been watching a lot of this game show channel that has one of these old picture-puzzle game shows, and sweet rollerskating Jesus am I bad at these puzzles. But also, their puzzles are just badly done. Anyway. I probably would have looked at this and said, “Okay, a horse with a pearl necklace . . . this is probably too dirty for a teen thriller in the 90s . . . chocolate hornet? someone really hates women, because he keeps depicting them with things that sound like “whore” . . . hat ball? Hat . . . marble? Hat pea? Happy? What does an imaginary blue unicorn voiced by Patton Oswalt have to do with anything . . . I give up.”

Megan’s stream of consciousness was a lot more coherent than mine.

Megan can’t figure out why someone left this for her, and thinks that if it’s a joke, someone has a bizarre sense of humor. She crumples it up and throws it away, but retrieves it later as she’s leaving class. She doesn’t know why, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Man. I feel like everyone’s worst decisions ever can probably be prefaced with “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

When Megan gets home, she very trepidatiously enters her room, peering suspiciously at the mirror. It’s empty. She goes about her business, and when her back is turned, she hears someone ask,

“What are you doing, Megan Logan? Is it something fun?”

Megan is horrified. I am amused. Juliet is approaching this like an annoying younger sibling, all “What’cha doing? Where ya going? Can I come? Can I play too? Huh huh huh, can I? Huh?”

Please keep amusing me, Hoh.

Juliet explains that she only wants to talk; after all, Megan is so kind and open-minded and etc, etc, etc. Juliet has been waiting forever for someone who can hear her, because it turns out she can’t talk to anyone unless they share her birthday, live near the lake where she died, and have a kind heart and open mind. That’s quite the list of requirements. Fucking hell, what sort of ghost lore is this?

Megan was easier to reach because she’s a dreamer, and Juliet has been watching her ever since she found out they share a birthday, because she just had to know everything about Megan! Oh. You have a ghost stalker. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No way this can go horribly wrong.

Juliet mentions something about “trading” and then walks it back, saying never mind; Megan isn’t ready yet. Nothing piques curiosity like being cryptic!

Megan is still in denial, and Juliet tells her that Megan’s grandmother, Martha, WHY DID YOU SAY THAT NAME?! would want her to believe in Juliet, because didn’t she always tell her that anything is possible?

It suddenly occurs to Megan that Juliet may have known Martha; Juliet confirms that everyone knew the Logans, but she didn’t know Martha well. She thinks she was like Megan – quiet and dreamy. Then she changes the subject to how sad she is because Megan gets to have parties, dances, and boyfriends, and she never did.

Uh, didn’t you brag about being supes popular earlier, Juliet?

Megan tears up, thinking about how awful it would be to die so young; Juliet applies more cryptic pressure, talking about not being at peace, and if only – but no, it’s too soon, Megan isn’t ready to hear it yet. Megan of course argues that she is ready to hear it, whatever “it” is, so Juliet “reluctantly” explains it to her.

Basically, if Megan will trade places and let Juliet live life as Megan for a week, then she can finally be at peace. Megan is speechless. I am skeptical. Juliet is “apologetic” and leaves Megan to consider the proposal. We’re left with the impression that Megan sits staring at the empty mirror for hours afterward. Um. Maybe someone should check on her . . . ?

At some point in the evening, Megan breaks her mirror reverie to talk on the phone with Hilary. Hill tells her that the sheriff said the car was absolutely tampered with, and she overtly accuses Donny, saying that every girl in school has rejected him and maybe he hates them all. I mean, probably, because that’s what incels do – blame women for them being undateable. Hilary says that Donny works in his brother’s garage, so he’d know how to mess with a car, and Meg points out that nearly everyone at school took auto shop, including most of the girls. Rock on, but also I wonder if this means most of the boys took home ec. Basic life skills shouldn’t be gendered.

Hilary snarks back that she doesn’t know what Megan learned in auto shop, but her classes didn’t include learning how to murder someone by sabotaging their car.

Hilary might be my exact brand of asshole.

After they hang up, Megan goes around having angst over the accident, and Juliet’s situation, and remembers that she cut art class on Tuesday, so the drawing could have been there before the accident, making it a warning rather than a cruel taunt. Okay. I’m not sure why all the Point Horror villains want to announce their evil intentions before they do the thing, but it’s the trope, so here we are.

She wonders if Sheriff Toomey would take her seriously, but figures he won’t since it’s a fucking crayon (confirmed!) drawing. She decides to consider it some more before running off to be laughed out of the police station. She also thinks that he’s a nice man, but we in the real world are all too aware that #ACAB, so. (Although thinking of Point Horror cops as copaganda amuses me greatly. They’re all incompetent assholes who look at very obvious threats and dismiss them as harmless pranks. If only that were the worst thing real life cops did.)

Juliet shows up in the mirror again, bringing her blast of air conditioning with her. Well, that’s one way to beat a heat wave. Megan is still disbelieving, even as Jules gives her more details about the switch. Megan would be incorporeal, Juliet would be in her body, and no one would be able to see or hear Megan when she’s in that state. I mean, Megan can “see” and hear Juliet, so I have my doubts about that, but okay.

Juliet’s sadness and yearning is getting to Megan, who keeps comparing her situation to her friends’, and Jules applies pressure to the spot – there’s this time crunch; she won’t be able to trade even a minute after Megan’s birthday, because they have to be the exact same age! Okay . . . these are some wack rules, but since I like Diane Hoh, I’ll roll with it.

Megan tells Juliet about the accident, and how it was really attempted murder, and she could be next, so now might not be the best time since Juliet could possibly be murderized while in Megan’s body. I’m not so sure why everyone in town believes this one car wreck is the prelude to a murder spree, but . . . sure. Juliet says that she’s willing to risk it, because this is her only chance – if Megan says no, she’ll disappear forever!

Wait. Does that make sense? You’ve been a ghost for, what, 45 years? Why would you suddenly disappear now? Once you find someone with your birthday, who will listen to you, that’s it? That starts the Disappear Into Nothingness countdown clock?

WTF is up with these bizarre-ass arbitrary rules, guys?

Megan’s like, that’s all well and good that you’re willing to take that risk with my body, but what would happen to me if you got my body killed, and Jules reassures her that she can sense evil in people, so she’d actually be safer! What. Megan realizes this means Juliet could maybe find out who tried to kill her friends, and is that much closer to saying yes. Also, oh, the town is called Lakeside. That’s original.

Juliet is thrilled by Megan’s “maybe,” and peaces out to let Megan consider it more. Megan refuses to think about it at night, because it’s too scary, then goes to bed and sleeps like shit.

The next day, Megan gets a ride to school with Justin instead of riding her bike, for reasons unexplained. She tries to tell him what’s going on, but when she asks him what he thinks happens to a person after they die, if their spirit hangs around, he tells her those are strange questions. I mean, not really? Most people at some point wonder about that? Then Justin doubles down on being an ass by interrupting Meg when she says something weird is going on at her house. According to him, what’s actually weird is someone screwing up Jenny’s steering, and additionally, Megan’s house is probably the one place in town where weird things aren’t happening!

First off, this is not an example of a good listener. Either Megan doesn’t know what it means to be a good listener, or Hoh has forgotten that was one of Justin’s personality traits. Second, I’m sorry, did I miss all the other weird stuff going on in town? One car wreck is hardly cause for town-wide panic. Third, just fuck off, Justin. I think my earlier assessment was right – throw the whole man away, Megan.

Oh, apparently one of the things Justin likes about Megan is that she’s not like the other girls, because she really listens to him.

Megan, please set Justin on fire, please and thank you.

Somehow it’s brought up that Megan has also turned Donny down for a date, and he took it “okay” when she said “no, thank you.” There’s a whole Tumblr blog showing screencaps of women saying “no thank you” to men on dating sites, and they rarely take it “okay.” In fact, here’s one of my experiences from OKCupid a few years back (this guy was pretty notorious on Tumblr dating blogs around 5 or 6 years ago, so I’d looked up his profile out of curiosity. Apparently he messaged everyone who looked at his profile . . . )

Ah yes. I harangued and abused you, surely this should make you interested in talking to me?!

I just spent way too long searching for those screencaps, by the way.

Anyway, back to Justin and Megan.

Justin tells Megan she should steer clear of Donny because “his alphabet is missing a few letters.” Never heard that term before, but I guarantee you some of the letters he still possesses are “MRA” and possibly “MGTOW.”

Megan asks him if there’s a championship horse named Jenny or something, then shows him the crayon drawing. He identifies the “horse” as a mule, based on the ears, and female mules are called jennies. Oh, it’s a mule? Okay. I was thinking it was actually a donkey and was prepared to make a joke about the artist calling Jenny an ass. Damn you for ruining my joke, Hoh!

Okay, so I just Googled it, because I thought something was hinky here, and I’m right! A female donkey is called a jenny; a female mule is just called a mare, or sometimes a molly. WTF, Hoh! You were wrong, and it messed up my joke! Fucking fuckity fuck!

Megan explains where the drawing came from, and Justin tells her to meet him in the school newspaper office after school. At lunch, Hilary complains that “that viper” Vicki Deems is back in school after a week suspension for cheating on a test. Hilary wishes they would suspend her for life, and uh, sweetie, that’s called expulsion. Apparently Vicki makes sexy Karen Tucker look like Snow White, and Megan thinks some bitchy thoughts about Vicki’s spider eyes sizing up the boys like juicy flies, and that it’s no wonder she has lots of boyfriends, but no girl friends. Or maybe, and stick with me here, she doesn’t have female friends because you’re all bitchily judging her and talking shit behind her back? Just a thought.

Megan also thinks about how she doesn’t want Vicki at her party, and, like, just don’t invite her, then? I guess she’s worried about this because the guy Hilary was hoping would ask her to the party is now guaranteed to ask Vicki instead because of her skin-tight halter top or whatever. I guess the guy is invited to the party? See, this is the problem with people being expected to bring dates to a birthday party. You’re going to end up with a lot of people there that you didn’t invite, simply because they’re someone’s plus one. This is just dumb.

Any. Fucking. Way.

Megan goes to her art cubbyhole after school, just in case the homicidal artist created another threatening masterpiece for her. And guess what? They totally did! This one is a curved pink line on a piece of blue construction paper. It looks like a bump on the paper. Somehow Megan deduces that it’s a hill, and Hilary is in danger!

Now, my friend and fellow recapper, Dove, made the point in her recap of this book that it was very convenient that Megan apparently picked the paper up so that it was oriented in the right way to figure out what the fuck she’s looking at. She pointed out that had she picked it up sideways, a person could stare at it for ages without figuring out what they’re looking at, and to prove it, she included a visual aid demonstrating that were it cocked the wrong way, there’s no way it looks like a hill.

I’m going to do you one better. Here are all the ways you could have picked this paper up:

Maybe you get “hill” from the first one. The second one? Boobs. That is a profile of boobs. You will never convince me otherwise. The third? Who the fuck knows? A ditch, maybe? A shallow grave? The fourth? I . . . yeah, no clue. It probably doesn’t help that my “hill” ended up a bit lopsided.

Anyway, Megan magically knows she’s looking at a threat on Hilary and races to the auditorium where Hill is “tying up loose ends” after the junior class play last week. I hope “tying up loose ends” in this case means pressure-washing blood off the stage, because so many of these teen thrillers have grievous injuries occur on these stages.

Oh, sure enough, Megan gets there just in time to see Hilary lean out over the catwalk to grab a rope, then fall.

It’s totes okay, though. This is classic Point Horror, where the stakes are low and the body count is lower.

Hilary manages to grab the rope she was reaching for and hangs on for dear life, dangling over the stage. The boys she was working with run to get a ladder and help her down, where she tells Megan she felt someone push her. Unfortunately, no one was in a position to see who it was. One of the boys tells her she probably fell, and Hill retorts that she is not a falling sort of person. I absolutely love Hilary so far.

Hill says she’s reporting this to the principal, and Megan considers mentioning the drawing of the wavy line, but figures no one else will see it for the threat it was. Megan asks Hilary if she’s going to pass out (because she still looks a little shaky), and Hill tells her that if she were a passing out kind of person, she would have done it while she was hanging from that rope like a piece of meat in a butcher shop.

I heart Hilary.

As they walk to the principal’s office, Megan continues to wonder who is attacking her friends – Donny, because all the girls reject him? Vicki, knocking off the competition so she can have all the boys to herself? Oh my god whut? (Although, if this were R.L. Stine, that would absolutely be the storyline.)

The principal doesn’t believe Hill was pushed since no one saw it, and refuses to investigate anything. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. He calls Hilary’s mom to come pick her up, and Hill fumes as she waits outside with Megan. Meg asks if she’s okay, because her eyes are glazed over, and Hill responds that she’s fine; she’s just mad now. Yup, I also get the glazed 1000-yard-stare thing going on when I’m really pissed off. Oh, Hilary, we might have been the same damn person when I was 15.

After Hilary is safely in her mom’s custody, Meg goes to the school paper office to see Justin, but when she gets there she sees Vicki sitting on the desk in front of him, leaning over to whisper in his ear. To add insult to injury, Justin is, get this, listening to her! The horror.

Megan freezes in the doorway, worried that Justin will ask Vicki to her party, after all, he’s a healthy, normal, red-blooded American male, and that was some halter top!

Okay. First off, it sounds like you’re the one having trouble resisting Vicki, Megan. Secondly, not loving the insinuation that males who aren’t attracted to Vicki aren’t normal. What a giant “fuck you” to gay and asexual guys. Also, no matter how hot or sexy someone is considered, not everyone actually is going to be attracted to them! Maybe this is just Megan’s characterization and not Hoh’s actual thoughts on the matter, but damn. Get a hold of yourself, girl.

Vicki looks up and greets Megan, which I’m sure Meg takes as a declaration of war, and Justin looks up “guiltily.” But why, though? He and Megan aren’t together, so why is he acting like a guilty boyfriend? Obviously they’re both into each other, but they’d rather do this dance where nothing is official but Megan acts like a jealous harpy whenever Justin is aware other girls exist.

God. So, Megan, being the mature individual that she is, turns and runs from the room. Justin, foolishly, calls after her, to no avail. No word on what Vicki does, but if Megan’s telling the story, she was probably rubbing her hands together like a cartoon villain and cackling evilly.

Megan runs all the way home, and tries to put thoughts of “friends in danger, vicious vipers, and treacherous males” out of her head. How was Vicki vicious? How was Justin treacherous? YOU’RE NOT DATING HIM, YOU FUCKING ENTITLED DRAMA QUEEN!

Somehow all of this has made up Megan’s mind – she’s going to agree to the “trade” with Juliet. She sits in front of the mirror and calls Juliet’s name, but nothing happens. Well. That was anticlimactic.

Megan tries every few minutes throughout the evening, to no avail. She calls to check on Hilary, then goes to bed and dreams about being enveloped by spiderwebs as a giant spider moves in on her. I’m surprised she doesn’t think the spider reminds her of Vicki.

She wakes up freezing, and realizes it’s because Juliet has finally deigned to show up. She explains that she was so afraid Megan was going to say no, that she couldn’t bring herself to hear it. Uh-huh. Megan asks for a deeper explanation of the switch, then insists on “practicing” a few times before the real thing. They practice, Megan walking into the mirror (. . . okayyyyy), and whenever Meg wants to be herself again, she just has to say “I am Megan and I want to be me again.”

Incidentally, that is the one line from this book that I’ve always remembered. (Okay, I remembered it as ” . . . and I want to be myself again,” but still.)

Megan doesn’t like being in the mirror, but Juliet reminds her that she doesn’t have to stay there, she can “go wherever you want, as long as you don’t leave the lake area.” So . . . she can’t really go wherever she wants then, can she. Also, how far does “the lake area” extend? Because it’s been established that Juliet has been following Megan around, studying her, so. Okay.

Megan agrees to trade with Juliet the next night, which will give her a week in Megan’s body, and switch back the day before the party. Yes. Because the girl who wants to experience dates and parties while in your body will surely leave right before your party. I one hundred percent believe this, yessir.

So, Megan spends the day (Saturday . . . wait, does that mean her party is on a Sunday? That’s weird.) running around doing errands for the party, until the one thing left is “ask Justin.” Wait, wait, wait. Justin is obviously invited to the party already, but Megan additionally wants to ask him as her date? Why did this only just now sink in for me. He’s already coming to the party, but she wants to ask him to the party. I guess it would just be like, Do you want to be my date at my party that you’re already coming to regardless? Oh, but wait. I’m forgetting that if she doesn’t ask him to actually be her date at the party they’re both going to be at, he will be expected to bring a date that’s not her, because this is some weird alternate universe where you must bring a date to a birthday party on pain of death.

Moving on.

Juliet assures Megan that she will ask Justin to the party he’s already going to, and he WILL say yes, dammit! Then they switch, and this time feels weird and icky to Megan – instead of lightness and rainbows and shit, this time it feels like she’s being wrenched apart. Additionally, it’s fucking freezing in the afterlife. Or . . . whatever plane Meg is on. She can see her room, but far away, like through a telescope. I would argue that telescopes make things appear closer, but I probably wouldn’t be able to hear Megan’s reply.

Juliet tells her that it feels different this time because it’s for real instead of for practice, then dances around the room, excited to have a whole week as Megan. Meg tells her to calm down because she’s not really a “bouncing off the walls” type person, but like, is your family really going to suspect that your body is playing host to the ghost of a dead girl? Maybe they’ll just think someone gave you cocaine in the school bathroom, like my mom accused me of the first time I had a manic episode!

Anyway, Juliet peaces out to take a long bath and apply more makeup. When Megan follows her down to dinner, she notices that she’s made herself up like a 1940s starlet, with eight coats of mascara and blue eyeshadow. Oh. Was blue eyeshadow all the rage in the 40s? I tend to think of that as being a 60s thing.

Thomas, Megan’s 10-year-old brother, is starring in what I assume is a community theater production of Peter Pan, and when Mom mentions it to Juliet, she’s all like, fuck that noise, I’m going to the mall! But Megan had promised to go, and Justin is going to be there writing a story on it for the school paper, so Juliet laughs it off and says of course she’ll go to the play, she was only joking about the mall.

Megan is having some buyers’ remorse, but Juliet is so thrilled with being alive again that Megan can’t bring herself to back out of their deal. She miserably decides to follow them to the theater.

Unless that theater is literally on an island in the lake, I’m having serious confusion over what “don’t leave the lake area” means. Juliet, could you please specify the radius around the lake that I have to stay inside? Thanks.

All the parents at the theater have their teenagers with them, because I guess it’s a town full of drama queens. Good lord, you’d think Ted Bundy was on the loose. Hilary joins them and comments on Juliet’s excess use of makeup, and because this is a thing that annoys me due to an incident related to my mother’s gaslighting of me, I’m going to amuse myself by imagining that Juliet has done herself up in full Juggalo (Juggalette) facepaint instead of just using a bit more eyeshadow than usual.

Justin shows up, and Juliet greets him far more enthusiastically than Megan would, and they spend the whole show flirting and holding hands. Um. Look, this behavior is confusing as fuck if they’re not actually dating. No wonder Justin wasn’t sure if he was allowed to flirt with Vicki or not.

The group heads back to Megan’s house after the play, because none of the parents are letting the kids go to the mall or anything. Mom (whose name is Constance, because apparently that’s going to be important later) tells Juliet that the parents are only keeping the kids in protective custody until the sheriff catches whoever tampered with “those cars” and pushed Hilary off the catwalk. Sorry, “those” plural, cars? Did . . . did I miss an epidemic of car fuckery? As far as the story has told us, it’s one fucking car.

Megan sympathizes about Juliet choosing the worst time in Lakeside to trade bodies, since the kids are all on lockdown and she won’t get to go out and have any fun. Huh. And here we currently are in Pandemic Lockdown 2020 due to Covid. Parallels! (Except nobody is taking shit seriously and Disneyworld is about to reopen. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands have died, with thousands of new cases popping up daily. But yeah, Liberal hoax or whatever.)

Am I recapping angry? There’s so much to be angry about these days. *shrug*

The teens gather in the den to watch a science-fiction movie that Justin talked them into, because of course sci-fi is strictly the domain of men; and Megan notices Hilary keeps giving Juliet weird looks. She wishes she could have told Hilary why she wouldn’t be acting like herself for the next week. Yeah, because I’m sure she would have believed you, Megan.

It’s too depressing for Meg to keep watching Juliet be a more fun version of herself, so she drifts out to the lake with her family, who have gone out in their boat. Oh, sorry, it’s just the menfolk who are on the boat. I guess that’s also a “just for men” thing. No idea where Mom is.

Lots of people are out on the lake, reminding me that I keep thinking this is a private lake for some reason. Probably because it’s basically in their backyard and they have their own dock. Anyway, Megan sees Vicki on a boat with some guys she doesn’t recognize, and thinks that they’re probably from another town, because Vicki probably already conquered the entire male population of Lakeside and had to move on to fresh new territory.

What the fuck, Megan.

Meg isn’t having fun at the lake, either. She can’t feel anything, not the water or the air, so she follows her dad and brother back to shore. When they get to the dock, she spots something floating in the water.

It’s her mom, facedown and unconscious! Dun-dun-DUN!

Megan feels super helpless, but fortunately Thomas spots Mom and he and Dad get her out of the water. Megan rushes (floats? zooms?) into the house and yells to Juliet to call 911, which she does before Thomas runs in to tell her what happened. He doesn’t notice she’s already on the phone, but Justin is like WTF. (Hilary has left the building sometime before this.)

When Justin asks her how she knew something was going on, she says she saw them through the window. Okay. I would love it if the window was actually facing the wrong way, but sadly it’s not. Or no one says it is, anyway.

Turns out Mom was sitting on the dock, and something (someone?) hit her from behind, sending her into the water. When she touches the back of her head, it’s all bloody.

Everyone piles into various vehicles and goes to the hospital with Mom, including Ghost Megan riding in the ambulance with her, proving that “stay in the lake area” is completely meaningless. Dad wants to stay the night at the hospital with her, but she insists the kids not be left alone at the house. You know, on account of Ted Bundy roaming the town.

Once Juliet has seen Justin off, Megan announces that she wants to switch back. She hated how helpless she felt watching Mom drown and not being able to do anything. Juliet turns on the tears and begs Megan to keep to their deal. She swears she’ll look after Meg’s mom for her, and cries that she didn’t even get a full day to live.

Megan eventually relents, but says that if anything else bad happens, the deal is off. That’s cute. Then Juliet tells her that after Hilary left (because she was feeling like a third wheel, Juliet speculates), she asked Justin to Meg’s party for her. So, as she tells Megan, “Justin is coming to your party.” But . . . wasn’t he already? He just wasn’t her date yet, but he was fucking coming to the party already. I don’t think Hoh knows how invitations work, which is weird because she literally wrote a book called The Invitation.

Then Juliet goes to sleep, not a care in the world.

Meg finds another crayon-on-construction-paper drawing that fell out of her bag while Juliet was going through it earlier. She speculates that someone slipped it in her bag while she was out running errands. Or . . . the notes are coming from inside the house . . . ? Anyway, this one is of a man in a grey and black striped uniform, which she identifies as a convict, and a leg bent so that the knee is emphasized. Con + Knee. I guess trying to figure out how to depict “Constance” was too taxing. Also, let’s play a game of “What Would JC Have Thought This Said?” Prisoner leg? Inmate joint? Criminal ninety degree angle?

Megan frantically wakes Juliet up and finally thinks to ask her what would happen to her if something happened to her body while Juliet was in it. Well, you’d be trapped in Juliet’s world, Megan.

I find it odd that we’re phrasing it like that. Isn’t Juliet a ghost? Isn’t Megan essentially a ghost while Juliet has her body? Point is, it’s the same world, isn’t it? You’re just floating through it incorporeally. It’s not fucking Narnia.

Oh, apparently now we are referring to Constance as Connie, because the whole town is “severely shaken” by the attack on Connie Logan. At least this makes more sense than thinking one car accident is the start of Jack the Ripper’s reign.

In the morning, Megan tells Juliet to be on the lookout for more threats from the art school reject, and Juliet is . . . suspiciously unconcerned with the whole thing? Then she finds out that if something happens to her body, she’ll only be trapped in Juliet’s “world” until Saturday night, when she’ll go “poof!” and disappear just like Juliet would.

Hold up. What the fuck sense does this make? Why wouldn’t Megan get to wait it out until she could find someone her age, with her birthday, etc etc? I know we’re trying to increase the tension here, but . . . WHAT ARE THE RULES?!

I . . . okay. I still like Hoh, so I’m rolling with it. I guess. Boy, this book falls apart when you inspect it closely.

Mom comes home from the hospital, and Dad gives Juliet permission to go study at the library with Justin. Instead of following them, which is what I thought she was going to do, Megan . . . wanders aimlessly through town. But everyone is staying indoors, and no one is getting murdered in the streets, so she eventually ends up back at the house (I’m seriously still annoyed that ��stay near the lake” apparently means “go wherever the fuckity fuck you feel like”). Justin’s car is parked in the driveway, and he and Juliet are making out like there’s no tomorrow. Megan is jealous as fuck, but reminds herself that Justin thinks he’s making out with her.

After Juliet finally comes in, she gets a call from Hilary, who apparently wants an apology for something that Juliet doesn’t think she needs to apologize for. Megan demands to know what Juliet did to her, and it turns out Juliet basically told her it was too bad she had to hang out with her and Justin instead of having a date of her own on a Saturday night. Megan is shocked that that’s why Hill left instead of leaving because she was tired. But . . . Juliet literally told Meg that Hill left because she probably felt like a third wheel. Where is this “she was tired” thing coming from?

Megan wishes she could call Hilary and make it up to her. Juliet peaces out to take yet another long bath. Megan mopes about how long the next six days are going to be.

The next morning, Juliet is doing more to piss Megan off – first she doesn’t do the dishes, then she wears Megan’s peasant blouse with her shoulders exposed. Again, the horror. Megan decides to follow her to school, partly to make sure she’s safe, because Megan is a bit naive, and partly to make sure she doesn’t totally ruin her life. Which she immediately does by getting into an argument with Hilary. Cool. Megan watches Vicki watch the argument with eyes smoldering with hatred, and assumes it’s because she wants Justin for herself. Oh, she also thinks Vicki is evil and is the one attacking people because she just hates everyone. Sure.

Megan drifts off to check the art cubbyhole, and I’m really confused about this whole ghost experience, because she describes it as a “hideous invisible wall between her and her familiar world,” which is a very strange way to describe being incorporeal. I mean, it was first described that way because she was looking out of the mirror, but now? I dunno. It’s weird.

Anyway, somehow Megan can see the drawing in the cubbyhole. I guess it’s positioned perfectly for her ghost gaze. It’s a crayon drawing of a drum. I would think it’s a threat that someone is about to get beaten, but Megan recognizes it as a tom-tom. Thomas! Which is both her brother and her dad’s name, so she’s not sure who the threat is actually against.

At home, Juliet says she didn’t tell Megan about the drawing because she didn’t know about it – she cut art class. And also English, the one class she shares with Vicki, so Meg couldn’t ask if she felt any evil coming off her. Boo.

Juliet wants to meet Justin at the “ice cream store” in the mall. Is that like the hamburger store?

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Anyway, Dad says nobody is leaving the house tonight. Juliet, surprisingly, doesn’t argue.

Oh, she doesn’t argue because she waits for Dad to go to bed, then sneaks out. How, uh . . . how early is Dad going to bed?

Megan follows Juliet with the idea that she’ll make her come back to the house. Oh, sweetie. You’re so dumb.

When Megan gets to the mall, the ice cream “store” is the only shop still open, because it stays open late to attract the after-movie crowd. Hilary is yelling at Vicki in the corridor, because apparently Vicki had the fucking audacity to call “Megan” a flirt. Oh. A flirt. How dare she. Vicki is under the impression that Justin would be hers if it weren’t for those meddling kids, and as she stomps away, Megan again wonders how far she would go. Sure sure sure, this isn’t an obvious red herring or anything.

Hilary walks into the ice cream “store” and ignores Justin and Juliet, who are cuddled up in a booth, and also are the only people there. Apparently the booths are pink-and-white striped, so since I grew up playing with My Little Ponies, this is exactly what I’m picturing:

God, this brings back memories

Also, I find it really odd that Hoh keeps calling it an ice cream “store.” It seems to be an ice cream parlor, where you can order your sundaes and whatnot, but also order cartons of ice cream to take home, as that’s what Hilary is doing.

Justin tries to make nice to Hilary, but Juliet couldn’t care less. At least until he offers to ask Megan’s dad about letting them take the boat out (when? surely not tonight?), and Juliet almost has a heart attack. Hilary doesn’t pay attention, but after she leaves, Justin wonders what’s up with Juliet’s reaction. She plays it off as being upset over her mother almost drowning in the lake, and he accepts this.

Justin asks if she’s going to take the crayon drawing Megan showed him to the police, and Juliet doesn’t know what he’s talking about at first, but then remembers. Megan thinks it’s a good thing she showed the picture to Juliet, or she’d have no idea what Justin was talking about. Uh-huh. Anyway, she says no, the sheriff wouldn’t take a crayon drawing seriously. Megan wonders why she doesn’t mention the three other drawings. Actually, Megan thinks “two drawings,” but there have been three since the one of the ass driving the car – the wavy line; the Hamburglar, and Drumline.

Hoh is not doing so well with the continuity in this one, y’all.

Anyway, when Justin goes to pay the bill, Megan tells Juliet she’d better get home before she gets caught, then delivers the whammy – if Dad finds out, he might cancel the party! This gets Juliet’s ass in gear, and she apologizes to Megan for being such a pain.

At home, Megan asks why Juliet didn’t tell Justin there were three total drawings (THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS, MEGAN!), and she brushes it off because it doesn’t make for very romantic conversation with Justin. Megan begs Juliet to be more careful with her life, and Juliet agrees to keep an eye out for danger.

Then Megan spots a reminder card for a hair appointment Saturday afternoon. Juliet claims it was a surprise, and she would never have gone to her Sweet Sixteen without getting her hair done first. Megan counters that Juliet is not her, which Juliet finds disturbingly funny. She agrees to cancel the appointment in the morning.

Yeah, uh, Megan? You worried about any of this yet? No? Mmkay then.

Megan continues to worry about how she’s going to keep an eye on her dad, brother, and Juliet. Because Megan not only can’t read the writing on the wall, she’s unaware that there is writing. Or a wall.

Nothing much happens for the next two days. Megan decided to follow Juliet to school every day, and she’s doing her best Megan impression, including making up with Hilary. At lunch, Juliet thinks Donny is creepy, so I see we haven’t totally kicked that red herring to the curb in favor of Vicki.

Juliet talks a lot to Megan about the changes in the world in the last 46 years, and this math is off. It should be 45, but Hoh keeps saying 46. It’s been established that it’s 1991 in book universe. Juliet was born in 1930, and died just before her sixteenth birthday, which would have been in 1946. 1991 – 1946 = 45. You’ve been dead for 45 years, Juliet, not 46. What the fuck, Hoh?

Seriously, I don’t recall Hoh being this fucking bad with continuity in any of her other books. Maybe she was in a hurry with this one?

Whatever. Anyway, Juliet is still annoyed that Dad isn’t letting her out of the house to do anything fun, and complains to Megan that whoever the bad guy was must have decided it was too risky to keep attacking people. Megan tells her that she doesn’t know that.

Spoilers?

Megan still worries that someone is “out there” waiting to do her family harm. Sure, yes, out there and totally not sleeping in your bed and wearing your skin. Good lord, Megan.

Thursday afternoon, the shit hits the fan. Thomas is fifteen minutes late coming home from school, which I guess is a lot if you’re worried about homicidal artists offing your family and friends. Megan goes to look for him, and sees him biking along the road, where a semi truck is bearing down on him. He tries to brake, but the bike just keeps going. The semi hits him head-on, flinging him up in the air where he somersaults twice before landing on the verge.

Oh. Hey, I’ve seen/read Pet Sematary, too! Little kid vs a semi truck does not end well.

Apparently you can see the entire fucking town from Megan’s kitchen window, because Mom sees the crumpled bike on the street and races out the back door. I thought the back of the house faced the lake . . . ? Hell, I’ve given up on trying to map out this house/lake/town. Which is now being called a village, by the way.

As Megan watches Thomas being loaded up on the ambulance, she can’t figure out why he couldn’t stop. She saw him pumping the brakes; did someone sabotage them? But nobody would hurt a child, not even Vicki! Unless . . . she were CRAZY, because you’d have to be CRAZY to target a whole family! CRAZY! Welp, there it is. I was waiting for Hoh to disappoint me, and she did not disappoint . . . in that she did disappoint. I mean. You know.

Megan sees Juliet hanging out on the corner, and runs (floats? blows?) over to tell her what happened. Juliet is more worried that Megan’s party will be cancelled. Megan can’t comprehend why Juliet cares, since she won’t be going to the party, anyway.

*stares into the camera like Jim from The Office*

Okay, Megan.

Turns out Thomas only has a fractured pelvis, broken leg, and a concussion, rather than literally every bone being turned into jelly. Damn. I was hoping we’d get to bury a kid in the Old Indian Burial Grounds™.

At home, Megan finds out that Juliet still hasn’t cancelled the hair appointment, because of course she fucking hasn’t, you imbecile. Then Juliet proudly shows off the construction paper and crayons she stole out of Donny “Red Pill” Richardson’s locker, proving he’s the homicidal artist! She’s going to go to the police and he’ll be arrested for sure, and then Dad will let her leave the house again!

Okay, art supplies prove literally nothing. Especially if he’s in art class. I don’t think you understand how criminal investigations work, Juliet and Megan.

Megan worries about someone seeing “her” breaking into Donny’s locker, and Juliet reassures her that she just left Megan’s body sleeping in the library and ethereally popped over to the locker in spirit only. Oh, Juliet can just leave Megan’s body whenever she feels like it and invisibly fuck with the corporeal world? Maybe pay attention to that, Megan!

But also, why can Juliet physically interact with the world, but Megan can’t? Is it experience? Is this just Ghost? Also also, to an observer, would they have just seen the art supplies merrily floating down the hallway on their own? I have questions I need answered, Hoh!

Megan still doesn’t feel better about anything, even though she’s sure the sheriff will arrest Donny tomorrow. It’s like Megan is smart enough to know that things should trouble her, but too dumb to figure out why.

The next morning, Juliet has already left before Megan comes in from the lake, where she apparently spends the nights wandering around. She notices a new party dress in her closet, black with pink trim. She wonders if Juliet has a fancy date with Justin, because there aren’t a lot of places in town she could wear a dress like that.

Except, you know, your Sweet Sixteen party.

Megan spends the day at the hospital, where Thomas is conscious but listless. And also more concerned about his bike than about himself. Okay then. She goes to the school to find Juliet, but sees Donny leaving school, decidedly un-arrested. Unable to find Juliet at school or at home, she heads for the hospital, where the sheriff has popped up to ask questions and inform them that the truck driver also tried to brake but nothing happened. Then he goes into a long, out-of-place lament on how forty years ago their house was the only one on the lake, and Martha’s family didn’t even think about locking their doors because things were so safe.

Megan wonders why Juliet didn’t tell the sheriff about the art supplies in a fellow student’s locker, and finally finds her back at home. She went for a ride with Justin after school. Turns out the sheriff wasn’t in his office when she went there before school, and she couldn’t wait around because then she’d be late for school, and Megan didn’t want her cutting any more classes.

Passive-aggressive much, Juliet?

Juliet deflects Megan’s concerns by telling her that the party isn’t cancelled after all (didn’t know that was a concern, but okay), and that the new dress is for Megan when she asks about that. Juliet tells her that the dress Megan picked out was too juvenile, even though she’d said it was pretty before.

Megan can’t believe Juliet and Martha were friends, because they’re so different. Um, Juliet actually told you she didn’t know Martha well, and also, do you think your grandma didn’t change at all from the time she was a teenager to the time she was your grandma? But this reminds Megan of what the sheriff said about this house being the only one on the lake forty years ago, and asks Juliet where she lived; was it on this street?

Cappie calls then, and turns out Juliet is off to meet up with the gang at Justin’s house. She’d rather be running wild through town, but it is what it is. Megan realizes her dad will be alone in the house, and wonders why Juliet didn’t suggest everyone come over to her house, but when she goes back upstairs to suggest it to her, she’s already gone.

Megan haunts around the house until her dad goes to bed, then wanders out to the lake, thinking how it’s a miracle nothing bad has happened to Juliet. Yeah. Miracle. Totally.

When she gets back to the house, it’s late, and Juliet is home and in bed, fast asleep. Megan thinks it’s odd she’s not out wringing every moment of fun out of her last night alive. Mmhmm. Very odd.

In the morning, Juliet goes to see the sheriff, but he’s not there and won’t be back til dinnertime. But what time is that, though? People eat dinner from like 5-9PM; “dinnertime” is not a set time! I had dinner at like ten o’clock last night! WHAT TIME DO YOU ACTUALLY MEAN?!

Back at the house, Dad is doing some kind of repairs that require him to be on a ladder, so you know this is going to go well. Megan looks around for Juliet, and finds her lying light as a feather stiff as a board on the bed. She thinks it’s weird that Juliet is napping, but also she doesn’t look relaxed like someone taking a nap.

Then Dad screams and there’s a breaking-glass sound, and Juliet sits bolt upright, “awake” now. Megan doesn’t have time to do the math, and rushes to see her dad on the ground amid broken glass from a picture window the ladder crashed through when it fell. I’m having a hard time picturing how this happened, but not enough to be snarky about it. Anyway, Dad is bruised and bloody, but seems more sheepish than grievously injured. (Juliet scolds him that he shouldn’t have been on a ladder in sandals. Agreed.)

As Juliet helps Dad disinfect and bandage his cuts, Megan finally, finally starts doing the math. She thinks that Juliet didn’t look asleep, she looked . . . empty, then she remembers that Juliet can leave her body whenever she wants, she thinks about how Juliet was never worried about anything bad happening to her, and she realizes Juliet could easily have nipped out of her body to attack her mom, because Justin never noticed what was going on around him when he was engrossed in a movie.

But then she wonders why Juliet would spend her one precious week of life wreaking havoc. Goddammit, Megan.

Oh, wait, no! By George, I think our girl’s finally got it! She thinks about the hair appointment, and the dress, and FUCKING FINALLY realizes that Juliet intends to just keep her body. She can’t figure out why she’s so evil, though.

Fortunately Juliet is back in the bedroom to explain things to Megan. It’s very simple, really – it’s all because of Grandma Martha. She was Juliet’s stepsister.

We now interrupt this Point Horror novel to bring you Cinderella.

Megan protests that Martha only had one stepsister named Etta, as if people never use different diminutives. Sure enough, Juliet is actually Julietta, and her wicked stepmother (Martha’s mom) forced her to go by Etta because “Julietta” was too fanciful. Damn. I have stepmother issues, but at least she never forced me to change my name.

Blah blah blah, Stepmom was terrible; Martha hated Juliet as much as Juliet hated her; Juliet supposedly stole all of Martha’s friends (there’s a lot to be said on this issue. Sure, you can’t “steal” a person, but I was a kid who had a few friends “stolen” from me, so it’s a phenomena that exists. It was usually accomplished by a girl who hated me making friends with my friend, then occupying all the friend’s time and excluding me, or being so horrible to me when I was around that I just . . . didn’t want to be around anymore. And gradually the “friend” just got colder and more distant toward me until we just weren’t friends anymore.).

Juliet hated living in this big country house; hated not living in the city; hated that these fucking hicks went on picnics rather than having dinner parties. You’re, uh, not making yourself very sympathetic, Juliet. There’s nothing wrong with a nice picnic.

Anyway, her dad forced her out on the lake with Martha, to keep her company since she’d stolen all of Martha’s friends or whatever. They fought on the boat, and Juliet tried to grab the oars, then they hit a rock and both girls were thrown overboard. (Unfortunately, there was no sign of Kurt Russell or Goldie Hawn.) Juliet was knocked unconscious, but according to her, Martha was fine, and just clung to the boat and watched Juliet drown rather than saving her.

Megan denies that Martha would do that, and points out that Juliet was unconscious, so she has no idea if Martha tried to save her or not. Megan thinks she probably did, but Juliet hated her so much she just wants to believe Martha did nothing.

Juliet is incensed that she’s the one who died, because she was pretty and popular, and Martha got to live, because she was dull and liked books and bird watching. I feel very attacked right now, by the way.

Megan is still confused as to why Juliet attacked her friends and family. It was to hurt Megan, because Martha loved her. Juliet didn’t have the chance to punish Martha, so she’ll take it out on Megan, thank you very much.

See, this is where the logic of this world totally breaks down for me. Why couldn’t she do anything to Martha? She’s apparently been lurking around since her death; Martha lived in this house for years, why couldn’t Juliet just push her down the stairs or some shit? Because Juliet never says she was pulled out of the ether when Megan moved in; she only made it sound like she could only trade with Megan. My impression was that she was here and aware the whole 45 (not 46!) years she’s been dead. Therefore, it makes no sense that she wouldn’t have taken revenge directly. And if she only popped into the world after Megan moved in, that was not made clear at all.

Megan is shocked that Juliet made her think it was Donny or Vicki attacking her family, and come on, Meg. You suspected Vicki all on your own; Juliet never said a word about her.

Juliet says she has to go find Justin now, since he broke their date because of Thomas’s accident, and oh yeah, the only reason she hasn’t hurt him is because she wants him for herself; Megan knows that, right? Then Megan actually tries the whole “I’m Megan and I want to be me again” thing, and I’m sure Juliet almost dies laughing at her. Like she would give Megan an easy way back into her body. Nope, that only works if both parties are willing. It’s like the honor system, you know?

Megan freaks out, vowing she’ll get her body back before midnight, before she poofs into non-existence, then yells that Juliet is evil and she hates her! Juliet replies that she should curse Martha instead, as she has for the last 46 years. It’s 45, Juliet. 45. Although, she did hate her before she died, so maybe this use of 46 is acceptable.

Now we randomly switch to Justin’s POV, even though we’ve been following Megan all this time. Okay. He’s not so sure how much he likes the “new” Megan and suddenly remembers her trying to tell him something weird was going on at her house. He can’t quite remember what she said, though. Oh, gee whiz, really? Is it maybe because you cut her off to mansplain about what’s actually weird in town? Then he realizes that with all the terrible things happening, Megan could be next, and wonders why he never thought of that until now!

Because you’re a self-centered jagoff?

Megan is still trying to figure out how to get Juliet to willingly trade back with her. She remembers that she’s terrified of the water, and wonders if she can communicate with Justin. Fortuitously, Justin shows up at the house, but no one’s home so he goes to sit on the dock to wait.

Megan finds him and manages to make him hear her, although at first he thinks she’s hiding somewhere and playing games with him. She finally gets him to understand the situation, and they plan to lure Juliet out on the lake with the promise of a romantic time under the moon or something. Oh, also, it’s eleven-thirty, so they only have half an hour until Megan . . . discorporates? Goes poof.

Jesus Christ, why did we leave this until the last minute?

I like this book, but this is getting tedious. I’m going to hurry this along as much as I can.

After much cajoling, bullying, and gaslighting, Justin convinces Juliet to come out in the boat with him. Megan thinks that will be enough, but it’s not. He steers them toward the cove; Juliet panics; Megan reveals herself; Juliet digs in harder because it’s only a few minutes til midnight now. And, like, I’m not surprised Juliet’s response to realizing this is a set-up is “fuck you.”

Juliet starts fighting Justin for control of the boat, and unsurprisingly they slam into a rock and Juliet falls into the water, which Hoh has described as “boiling.” Um, you sure you don’t want to rethink that word choice, Hoh? Because I know it’s unseasonably warm in this story, but surely not enough to make the lake boil.

Juliet’s drowning, but Justin is worried because it’s Megan’s body drowning regardless of who’s occupying it, so he dives in to save her. This gives Juliet hope, because she doesn’t know that Justin is a terrible swimmer. Megan screams this at her, feels Juliet’s resolve begin to weaken, then starts repeating “I am Megan and I want to be me again” over and over as the clock begins to chime midnight.

Juliet lets out a wail that was probably heard ’round the world, and Megan reclaims her body. And then has to rescue Justin, because again, terrible swimmer. They get back in the boat, wrap themselves in blankets, and head back to shore. Because somehow this damaged boat is still driveable. Cool.

Nostalgia Glasses Off

Obviously I had some issues with the bad continuity and lapses in logic. But the thing is, I loved the fuck out of this book when I was younger, and I still enjoy it today.

It would have been a hundred times better if Hilary had been the protagonist, though.

The most oblivious protagonist in Point Horror history agrees to allow a ghost to take over her body for a week. Nothing could go wrong, right? I recapped The Accident by Diane Hoh! Title: The Accident Author: Diane Hoh Published: April 1991 Tagline: She has returned. From the dead.

#90s books #actual nostalgia #body swapping #Books #diane hoh #ghosts #horror #incels #no logic in sight #nostalgia #point horror #recaps #supernatural #teen thriller #the accident

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