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sunnysynthsunshine · 6 years ago

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Lolipops and Gumdrops (The Young Ones) (written October 2nd 2018)

The Young Ones was written by Ben Elton,Lise Mayer and Rik Mayall

The Young Ones was a sitcom that lasted from 1982-1984

this fanfic is a exploration of the past,present and future for the characters

as in the ending of the show they were killed off because the writer’s had ran out of ideas.

The term "Lollipops and Gumdrops" is a made up term to describe feelings of wholesome mixed nostalgia

it's second meaning refers to the development of Vyvyan and Rick's relationship.

Chapter 1 (this explores the past of the characters prior to the events of The Young Ones)

Before Scumbag

It was the early 1970s

In a fancy neighbourhood lived a family, and their son was sitting at the dinner table,

His parents were having an argument he had a vest and rolled up trousers with a few spots on his face.

His dad growled as he slammed his knife and fork on the table

“I SWEAR THIS NEIGHBOURHOOD HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER BY FILTHY HIPPIES!”

His mother nodded,

“Dominic I couldn’t agree more useless layabouts all they want to do is do drugs and take up space on the roads with their protests”

Rick rattled his teeth as he nervously shook and timidly asked

“can I be excused?”

His dad shouted back

“Richard for the last time I said no talking when your mother is talking!”

His mum scoffed

“Yes, that’s incredibly rude GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

Rick mumbled before he yelped, “I don’t have to do what you say fascists” as he attempted to flick a rude hand gesture

His dad glared

“HOW DARE YOU USE SUCH A OBSCENE GESTURE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!”

Rick staggered up to his room when he shut the door

Rick’s room was his escape his shed of wonder, music and revolution

Philosophy and Marxism books on his nightstand, posters of Cliff Richard and The Who on his wall

And his prized possession...his record player he looked through his records and put on his Ziggy Stardust ep as the opening chords of Starman were music to his ears

He stripped off his white shirt, replacing it with his black shirt while he sat on his bed reading a graphic novel and wrote a bit of poetry

He said

“I wish I could be like Ziggy or Cliff...be someone else for a change...not lonely pathetic Richard

Someone not like that, Someone who isn’t boring someone who doesn’t take rules from anyone...except Marx”

While he finished flicking through the pages he looked through his dressing table and took out...his makeup compact he wouldn’t dare tell anyone at school about his androgyny

But he felt that he could be something unique…

He adjusted the brushes and applied the various eyeshadows, blush and lip gloss to his face canvas

He had a cigarette in hand and relaxed in his chair bobbing his head to bowie’s inviting eclectic voice.

Elsewhere down the street was another high class family the mother and father were a few generations older but they still moaned about “workers” and how the youth were a threat to society” in their back garden was their son Neil he normally had slicked back hair and fancy suits but when he’d go outside he’d show the hippie wallflower he’d later become

"Oh what a lovely day it is today Hello flowers, hello sun, hello clouds, hello plants"

anthropomorphic vegetables and plants grinned back at him "Hello Neil!"

he’d catch insects, wander the hedge mazes and grow vegetables..but amongst the pretty vines that decorated the patio he’d sometimes think about wrapping those wreaths around his neck until all he could see would be the beautiful sunlight...one of the days he did that his parents found out and he was diagnosed with clinical depression,his parents saw that as a disgrace he lost sleep and would stay up on some nights but as much as he was miserable he knew he wasn’t the only one so Peace Studies was what he decided to study once he finally got a place in uni.

In the city in a more dangerous side of town lived a barmaid Lindsay and her daughter Vivian

Lindsay would work at the pub the Kebab and Calculator leaving Vivian alone on some days

"Viv I'm just heading down to the pub alright"

"ok Mum"

Vivian waved and nodded frowning as she shut the door

"Vivian put on the cassette player and the sound of the Misfits was blasted, Vivian turned on the television to watch horror films and aggressively punch pillows.

Vivian had gotten used to bad luck,he had to buy her own birthday presents Lindsay would just give booze as presents while Viv liked the odd babycham it got old after he hit 17 when Vivian would be alone Vivian would either play video games,watch tv,get in street fights with fascists,study for her science exams or go to clubs to mosh to punk music Vivian at times felt lost...it didn’t help that at times socialising was hard for Vivian she’d retaliate with violence often

when Vivian was little she'd just listen to enter sandman on her walkman while blowing bubbles.

Vivian didn’t feel like a girl. she would dread looking in the mirror, Vivian eventually decided to transition, Vivian became...Vyvyan being a punk Vyvyan felt like he could show more of his self-expression through his appearance and attitude he made his dyed orange hair spiky, got a few piercings and bought a ton of band merch and patches for his “battle jacket”

Vivian would bind but he'd only do it when he'd be alone when his mum did find out his mum couldn't tell the difference

There was also Mike a runway model influenced by classic Hollywood who would scam people for money usually the money was just so he and his papa wouldn’t end up on the streets again.

Chapter 2 (considering the original ending resulted in the characters getting killed off via a bus crash with no answer to what happened afterwards this chapter gives an alternate ending of what would happen if they did survive)

: Summer Holiday Part 2

The aftermath of the bus crash

It had been a few decades

Rick, Vyvyan, Neil and Mike were at Uni, Scumbag College specifically

Richard took up a different name "Rick", he took inspiration from ziggy's style and put plaits in his hair projecting an androgynous appearance he would've been able to show previously he openly wrote his poetry and got interested in political science and Anarchism self-proclaiming himself as "The Peoples Poet"....however, his tory side still could be seen in his pretentious, egotistical attitude.

Vyvyan didn't change anything, Vyvyan didn't give a toss what people thought of him sure his explosive violence and anger were repetitive at times but sometimes his compromises of destroying property were needed considering their lack of money and food stock.

Neil expressed the flower child that he truly was...but he was also a bit of a hypochondriac believing superstitions easily not the brightest crayon in the box but at least he had good cooking skills using the vegetables he had grown to make soups, lentils and other dishes

Mike just kept his "cool person" persona he couldn't get enough qualifications to get to mainstream colleges so he bribed the deen his course was business and advertising

It was kinda depressing...having to eat leftovers half the time, often having to deal with fights either from Vyv and Rick or from the people outside.

but they knew that they had nobody else, the country was in political hell so Rick's constant thatcher bashing was justified, Vyvyan's habit of destroying stuff was needed so they'd have money left, without Neil they'd not have much food and without Mike they wouldn't have someone to be the "voice of reason" in times of such chaos.

Thus the bank robbery ironically being at the same time as another bank robbery, in that bus, everything was nothing as they happily sung Cliff Richard's "Summer Holiday" only to drive off the cliff.

BOOM!

Neil and Mike got away quickly with minor burns...Vyvyan and Rick, on the other hand, we're stuck inside amongst the flames and debris

Neil shouted "Oh Mike this is very heavy, like more heavy than anything else we've ever experienced"

Mike nodded in response "I agree this is starting to be dangerously serious" as he flicked out his phone and called emergency services

"YOU BASTARDS YOU COMPLETE UTTER BASTARDS ARE YOU JUST GOING TO LEAVE US HERE TO ROT HELL?" Rick screamed in panic

"Oh damn I never thought it would end this way, I never got to have my first love, my first shag none of that I am going to wilt like the great leaders that came before me I guess the pigs have won I guess there is no future, no future for me," he started sobbing

Rick stopped sobbing when he noticed an uncomfortable silence outside of the roaring flames around him...the silence was coming from Vyvyan at the front of the bus

Rick out of his seat and crawled underneath the flames up to where Vyvyan was "Vyvyan?" he quietly asked as he shook the unconscious punk in front of him

he repeated himself "VYVYAN?" he yelled at the top of his voice

Rick knew this wasn't good "No! God no, please not him sure we had our rows, fights and disagreements but he never left, I enjoyed when we'd take the piss out of each other, I don't know how I'd continue life without him, I'm not letting the fascists win...Vyv he..., Rick gulped "he was my friend"

he grabbed Vyvyan's body and carried him over his back while kicking the doors and windows open

now on the ground away from the flaming inferno, Rick tried to process the situation and his background knowledge of CPR

he rested Vyvyan on the flat surface and begun to tilt Vyv's head back slightly putting pressure on his jaw

smirking in relief Rick noticed there was something else he had to do he looked sideways

he inhaled pinching Vyvyan's nose with his thumb and index finger as he placed his mouth over Vyvyan's and took some quick breaths

Vyvyan started to be coming back to him Rick released his nostrils he could sense Vyvyan breathing again

Vyvyan was confused as he attempted a punch only for Rick to block Vyv's fist and kiss it

eventually, emergency services arrived Vyvyan didn't give more punches as wires and patches were put onto him while he was placed onto a stretcher and being checked for injuries and burns"

Vyvyan coughed a bit and said

"What happened?"

Rick stood nearby smirking

"We crashed a bus over a cliff conveniently placed next to a billboard of Cliff"

Vyvyan gave a snarling type of expression

"No, you bastard to me, what happened to me?"

Rick kept his smile but spoke more solemn

"You...you almost died your oxygen was low and because you were at the front of the bus you took the most damage"

Vyvyan tried to process the information and raised his eyebrows

"and you saved me?"

Rick nodded,

Vyvyan gulped speaking in a less rough raspy voice

"Thank you"

Rick kept smiling cheerfully at Vyvyan when he saw Neil and Mike running up

"There you lot are what were you waiting for? the end of the world? there's more to life than being a cloud you know" he scoffed.

Neil moaned

"Sorry Rick, but that was very heavy"

Mike folded his hands

"Neil's right that was horrible what you and Vyv were dealing with" "still it was smart of you to save him like that, I'm proud of you

Rick blushed at the compliment

Mike continued "I understand why you call yourself a peoples poet you're a poet for the people, you care for the people or the "workers" as you call them" he then patted Rick's head in a fatherly way"

Rick smirked "Yeah not all people some people are fascists but...some people..some people are alright"

Later they were in the hospital and it was no different than when they were at home instead of moaning about thatch Rick moaned about the NHS, Vyvyan would threaten to attack him with medical instruments and they'd chase each other, Neil would get leftovers from the vending machines and cafes nearby and Mike would flirt with the nurses.

Rick sat in his hospital bed, bored beyond belief, "I hate this, the stupid education system, the ruddy NHS, it's no different than prison"

Mike read his magazine "Well you're lucky we aren't in prison I'm never going back into the slammer you hear"

Neil moaned, "we get it but maybe if we got jobs, we could get the house back and avoid prison"

Rick scoffed smirking "WELL FOR ONCE NEIL HAS THE RIGHT IDEA!"

Mike said, " Rick I'm trying to read"

Rick answered back, "well then again we are innocent, we scrapped through our GSCE's, the bus I stole was already about to be destroyed anyway and the bank was already being robbed when we tried to rob it,we've all got social diseases but our opinions shall be justified by the riots going on in this country, and if the pigs do give us a visit we'll give this alibi

"Gee, Officer Krupke, we’re very upset; We never had the love that every Child oughta get We ain’t no delinquents We’re misunderstood Deep down inside us, there is good!"

Mike groaned, "Oh no he's singing Broadway songs"

Rick kept singing out of tune "We’re no good, we’re no good We’re no earthly good Like the best of us is no damn good!"

Vyvyan yawned and lept out of his bed grabbing a plastic knife and fork, aiming them at Neil and Mike

Rick said, "if it wasn't for me you'd be dead"

Vyvyan shrugged, "well it does feel more like hell than it does a hospital"

Neil asked, "Vyv why aren't you, your usual aggressive self?"

Vyvyan chuckled to himself "I'm taking a break from that, the doctors say my anger levels give me a risk of having high blood pressure, headaches and other problems

Mike emotionlessly turned his head "Oh"

Neil then walked off to the cafe and vending machines to get food

Vyvyan fidgeted with the plastic fork as sat by Rick's hospital bed smirking at him

"Well this is it, new world, new people yet you're still stuck with us aren't you?"

Rick grinned, "Yeah, in a way we are kind of like a weird family, We're the children, Neil's the mum and Mike...."

Mike rolled his eyes "your the one thinking of weird ideas, Rick"

Rick snorted "well your the one to talk Dad"

Vyvyan fell on the floor laughing, while Mike blushed bright red "Oi! nobody who isn't a date of mine can call me that!"

Vyvyan got up "I think we've heard enough out of you've listened to too much Frankie goes Hollywood"

Mike tried to backpedal "T-They said that song was about motivation"

Vyvyan and Rick smirked at each other ".....Sure"

Rick then looked at Mike smiling innocently "it's ok Mike, we accept you for the gay dad that you are"

Mike said, "I'm not gay, I like men but I like ladies as well"

Rick cheered, "So your Bi, like Freddie Mercury wonderful"

Neil walked back carrying a wooden tray of sandwiches, chocolate bars, chips, toast and sausages, placing it on the nearby coffee table

"Hi Guys, I got us some supper, and it's not lentils"

Rick jumped for joy hugging Neil "Thank you, Neil, you shouldn't have Now! let's have the last supper"

Neil smiled "Uh, your welcome Rick, but why are you suddenly being so nice?"

Rick grinned as he walked back to his bed "I, Nice? Neil the people's poet is always thankful for their people and goods, it's just part of my nature"

in between bites of food he got more honest speaking in a softer tone "I've learned a lot from you,Vyv and Mike, I was an internally homophobic twat back then,I would lash out at others when I was really angry with myself,I became sarcastic I was angry with the world but was still learning how to shake off my parent's conservative values for the revolutionary Marxism I was studying,I am grateful I know you, and how your able to put up with a bastard like me, I love you, my comrades, we are all Young Ones,and I've accepted who I am too,I'm Rick and I am brilliant"

Vyvyan sat on the side of Rick's bed smiling at him hiding tears "that is the soppiest thing I've ever heard but now you've made cry, hope your happy"

a few years after that they performed alongside Cliff himself for Comic Relief 1986 their cover got the song in the charts again and it felt like they would always be "ThE YoUNG ONES"

who weren't afraid...to live, love while their love is strong even when they wouldn't be Young Ones anymore.

Chapter 3 (this explains what the Young Ones were up to in the 1990s)

: Common People

It was the 90s Rick was into Britpop, Vyvyan was into glam punk and industrial music like KMFDM, Neil was grunge and Mike wore dad Hawaiian shirts

they weren't tv stars like before though, the most they got was from US Reruns on Comedy Central

they still lived in the same house they just changed it up a bit Vyvyan spent more time going to industrial mosh pits or appearing in advertisements Neil also appeared in advertisements,advertisements for petrol in Austrailia...yeah I don't get it either Mike got back to college but studied a different topic he studied film and Rick well out of his still active political life oh! you should've seen

Rick stood on a blue stage that had his name sparkle on a neon sign above him he was in his old outfit of a rolled up shirt, tie and jeans

She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge, She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College, That's where I, Caught her eye. She told me that her Dad was loaded, I said "In that case, I'll have a rum and coca-cola." She said "Fine." And in thirty seconds time, she said, I want to live like common people, I want to do whatever common people do, I want to sleep with common people, I want to sleep with common people, Like you. Well what else could I do I said "I'll see what I can do." I took her to a supermarket, I don't know why, But I had to start it somewhere, So it started there. I said pretend you've got no money, She just laughed and said, "Oh you're so funny." I said "Yeah? Well I can't see anyone else smiling in here. Are you sure you want to live like common people, You want to see whatever common people see, You want to sleep with common people, You want to sleep with common people, Like me. But she didn't understand, She just smiled and held my hand. Rent a flat above a shop, Cut your hair and get a job. Smoke some fags and play some pool, Pretend you never went to school. But still you'll never get it right, 'Cause when you're laid in bed at night, Watching roaches climb the wall, If you called your Dad he could stop it all. You'll never live like common people, You'll never do whatever common people do, You'll never fail like common people, You'll never watch your life slide out of view, And dance and drink and screw, Because there's nothing else to do. Sing along with the common people, Sing along and it might just get you through. Laugh along with the common people, Laugh along even though they're laughing at you, And the stupid things that you do. Because you think that poor is cool. Like a dog lying in a corner, They will bite you and never warn you, Look out, they'll tear your insides out. 'Cause everybody hates a tourist, Especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh, Yeah and the chip stain's grease, Will come out in the bath. You will never understand How it feels to live your life With no meaning or control And with nowhere left to go. You are amazed that they exist And they burn so bright, Whilst you can only wonder why. Rent a flat above a shop Cut your hair and get a job Smoke some fags and play some pool Pretend you never went to school, But still you'll never get it right 'Cause when you're laid in bed at night And watching roaches climb the wall, If you called your dad he could stop it all Yeah You'll never live like common people You'll never do what common people do You'll never fail like common people You'll never watch your life slide out of view And then dance and drink and screw Because there's nothing else to do I want to live with common people like you.....

"I LOVE YOU JOHNNY MARR,DAMON ALBARN AND MORRISSEY!!!" Rick shouted into his microphone

Vyvyan snarled at Rick "Shut up Britpop bastard"

Vyvyan snatched the microphone and bulged his eyes out at the audience he had dark purple eyeliner and vampire esque contour on "Oh the beautiful people, the beautiful people

Neil then took the mic "Where the lights out, "ENTERTAIN US!", "HERE WE ARE NOW!"

Mike finger-gunned the audience "I'll be here" singing the spice girls I'll be there out of tune

Chapter 4 (and now the present and future,how the characters are interacting in the 21st century)

: The Young Ones: Years on into the vaporwave moonlight

The Young Ones in the 2010s note:this chapter is littered with Internet references

Rick was on a parade float holding a guitar filled with "angst" he had a military type outfit on and his pigtails were undone so his semi-long hair could be shown

"When I was a young child, my dad took me into the city, to see the marching band," "he said, Richard, you'll grow up would you be the poet saviour for the people, broken, beaten and the damned

Neil would play post-grunge songs with local bands for events like weddings, pub parties etc. , Mike was in a rockabilly revival subculture and Vyvyan was a fan of White Stripes and Gorillaz

But a new decade was just starting to show

Rick said,

"Vyvyan that's the wrong tape rewind it"'

Neil moaned as he worried about the camera

"Oh guys stop being so heavy it's just a polaroid"

Vyvyan then adjusted the camera correctly and handed it back to Neil who was wearing hipster attire with a star necklace around his neck and tarot cards in his other hand

.......SHUTTER...........rec:o beep 02:10:18

Rick rested on his bed posing in an "aesthetic" way decorated in an 80s anime styled sweater with his name written in Japanese characters, a pastel coloured cardigan and his plaits out like before wearing light orange shades singing the song lyric "I want blood, guts and chocolate cake"

Vyvyan ran over to his side placing a tray of crisps, ketchup and chocolate on the dressing table dipping the crisps in the ketchup eating them as he begun to fidget with a fake rainbow coloured butterfly knife before shoving Rick's face into the chocolate cake

"VYVYAN YOU RUINED MY AESTHETIC!"

Vyvyan screamed "I WAS BORED, IT'S NOT THAT HORRENDOUS TO OFFEND OSCAR WILDE IS IT"?

on a book cover, a ghost of Oscar Wilde is folding his hands sarcastically "no I suppose not peasant"

later that night Vyvyan was sitting in front of his laptop recording with a torch, microphone and horror figurines around his room "Hey mates it's Vyvyan's spooky storytime of True Crime" "so there was this girl in Liverpool and she knew some boys of the neighbourhood who would frequently mock and harass her so...she stabbed them and hid their corpses in the local pond"

"BE QUIET IM TRYING TO LISTEN TO JAPANESE 80S MUSIC WOULD YOU STOP BEING A HYBRISTOPHILLIAC!" Rick shouted from next door

Vyvyan shouted back, "CULTURAL APPROPRIATOR"

Rick overdramatically gasped "How dare you I am no weeaboo unlike you"

the next day they were at Mcdonalds when Neil noticed something about their meal

" I don't think we should eat this, it's not vegan you don't get it I'm literally eating death"

Vyvyan shrugged

"It's no different than the rest of the manufactured garbage you get in these places"

Mike nodded and Rick smirked, "Yeah Neil, if you hate the place so much eat somewhere else"

Neil moaned "but I don't go anywhere else without you"

they all groaned while Neil kept complaining

"You see all your doing is killing and torturing these animals"

Vyvyan rolled his eyes "Yeah animals that eat their offspring"

Neil wouldn't shut up so Rick stabbed him with a fork

when he noticed Mike was telling a waiter about what happened he hid in the bathroom "I can't believe it I killed Neil, it was all over one silly argument how could I?"

Vyvyan opened the door "you, miserable sod you can come back out now Neil's still alive nothing serious"

Rick breathed a sigh of relief "Thank goodness"

a few days later Mike wanted Vyvyan to stick his head out the window again.....for the vine

"ok Vyv just do what you did before on university challenge," Mike said as he manoeuvred his phone

"Do not stick your head out the window, mmm I wonder why" Vyvyan then slammed his head against the window as the video was done being recorded

Mike smirked to himself "this will get me lots of hits" Vyvyan had a few cuts on his face, he wasn't happy "You bastard my face is gonna need stitches now because of this!"

Mike ignored him only for Vyvyan to say "It's not stopping me from wanting to kick your face in" as he chased Mike and had a slapstick fight with him

while they were in the middle of that Billy Balowski was nearby rapping badly "Hey it's Lil Balowski and this is what I'm doing today I'm kneeing this two for not giving their pay"

It was night-time and Vyvyan and Rick were watching the sunset Rick said, feeling nostalgic "remember the good old days when we would attack each other with cricket bats and call out thatcher in our satirical performances"

Vyvyan finished his cigarette and said "Yeah, those were wild times of complete madness the chasing like Tom and Jerry and constant mentions of bottom"

Rick laughed it off "I recall you wanted to kiss my bottom" Vyvyan smirked "I did not, you wanted to kiss my bottom, anyways we were young ones then and we aren't young anymore"

Rick looked out into the now present moonlight "technically we will always be young ones, the floating timeline keeps us this way, it's like hell but it's our personal hell an anarchic fun open hell, not a fascist one"

Vyvyan nodded "hey, what was your life before this like anyway?" Rick inhaled and said "Well it certainly wasn't all lollipops and gumdrops" "I had some elements of self-expression and I did love some parts of my life but other parts are overshadowed by negative memories being told to believe on the right wing side of things. Where nothing but political lies were fed to you with Teresa and Trump the world seems to be repeating itself, but I never got a chance to fully spread my wings until meeting you. I was usually a quite timid, shy bloke, heh I do like the others but it was you who I felt the most connected to...you had an energy that I wanted but now I know I already had it now I have someone beautiful to share it with."

Vyvyan was surprised that all of that was hidden in those whining tantrums Rick had back in the 1980s but he felt like his eyes had been opened he felt the same way, he held Rick's hand and smiled at him "I think so too, you, annoyingly revolting, amazing sod"

Rick blushed under his glasses

Vyvyan mumbled smirking, "P-Peoples Poet"

Rick then kissed Vyvyan he kissed back as they cuddled throughout the night

no cricket bats, no punches, no fighting

just love sickeningly revolting but wonderful...love

......Love is the answer ~ Rik Mayall (1958-2014)

#the young ones #tribute #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #fluff and angst #rick pratt #vyvyan basterd #neil pye #mike the cool person

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sending-the-message · 7 years ago

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Anglerfish by coffinstuffer

Coyotes will sometimes lure domestic dogs out into the woods by playing with them. A single coyote will approach the dog, ears forward, tail up, acting friendly as can be. It may even roll on its back and expose its belly in a show of submission, to draw the dog into a bout of mock wrestling. Gradually, the games will push farther and farther away from home. Deep into the forest. That’s when the rest of the pack appears. Clusters. The dog’s new friend becomes its executioner as the pack begins to attack.

It’s not uncommon for lonely children to bond with imaginary companions. They invent invisible friends to pass the hours away with. It is considered a typically harmless behavior, as long as the child understands the ultimate difference between fantasy and reality.

I’ve often wondered about the correlation between invisible childhood friends and later mental disturbance. I wonder what the statistics of suicides and disappearances might look like, when juxtaposed against the incidence of imaginary friends and what age someone stopped seeing them.

The first invisible friend I can remember was named Kevin. He was a little boy just like me, if not a few years older. We used to play together on the beaches of Lake Michigan. Building sand castles, collecting rocks and splashing around in the water.

Kevin liked to swim a lot more than I did. He’d dog-paddle out far into the water, giggling and urging me to join him. I tried a few times, but whenever I swam more than ten feet from the shore, my mother would call me back. Kev and I played together almost every week from my early childhood until I was nine and my family moved farther inland.

I didn’t even realize that Kevin wasn’t a corporeal person until years later. I made some offhand comment to my mother about my old lakeside companion. She seemed confused, and said there were never any other children when we went to the lake. I would laugh and talk to myself. But there was no Kevin. At least, not that she ever saw.

Hyenas can mimic human laughter. There is a lot of African folklore about evil spirits that can imitate the voices of loved ones to draw you away from the village.

These stories might have been fairy tales, but they served a very real purpose. The people who survived were the ones who didn’t follow strange sounds in the dark.

I met Polly a few weeks after my family moved into a new house, in an area with dense forests and narrow roads. Rural Michigan might as well be the Canadian tundra. We were farther north than Toronto. Though the summers were pleasant enough, the winters got bitter cold.

I don’t know for a fact that I was the only one who could see Polly, because she only ever came around when I was alone. But once or twice, she seemed to disappear into thin air, which makes me think she wasn’t made of flesh and blood.

Polly was… weird. She made me nervous from the second she walked out of the woods. Maybe it was her bare, dirt-covered feet, or her wide, glassy-eyes. Even at ten years old, I knew that other children weren’t supposed to just appear like that. She shouldn’t have been wandering around in the middle of nowhere without an adult.

She always wore the same thing. A faded, floral dress, with her straw-colored hair in two messy braids. She never offered any explanation of where she came from or where her family lived, beyond just pointing back into the woods. She said they didn’t live far. They had a cabin out there.

I didn’t believe her.

But I was bored. No other children lived within walking distance. So Polly and I would kick a soccer ball around, and climb trees, and play cowboys and pirates. She always wanted me to come to her house. She said she had a lot of fun games there, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the yard.

Polly was predictable, at least. She was always waiting for me after school, regardless of the weather. When it got too cold out, we played up in my attic. I was alarmed by her lack of boots or winter clothing at first. But she always just shrugged and said the temperature didn’t bother her. She did try to get me to come outside with her sometimes. She’d say I didn’t really need a coat either. She said that if you stayed in the snow long enough, you’d stop feeling it.

At the time, I wasn’t certain she was trying to harm me. She was confused, lonely, and desperate for a friend. But at the back of my mind, a nagging voice told me she didn’t have my best interests at heart. So I never did follow her out into the elements without proper protection.

Sirens are an ancient idea. Creatures that take the shape of gorgeous women, or whatever their prey would find most enticing. Creatures that sing so beautifully, they can bewitch any listener. Creatures that are such effective predators, their prey doesn’t notice the trap until their ship has been dashed to bits on the rocky shore and there’s blood in the water.

My family moved just a little outside Detroit when I was about thirteen. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories about what the city is like. What a ghost town it is. I’ve even heard it compared to a post-apocalyptic wasteland. But you have to understand, it was a pretty gradual descent from the 60’s until about 2000. In the early 90’s, it wasn’t in the terrible state it is now.

My parents and I moved into a relatively nice apartment complex. I went to the nearby middle school, and it was fine. I didn’t make friends very fast, but I also wasn’t scared for my life or anything.

Robert introduced himself a few days after we finished unpacking our boxes. He was fifteen. A tall, skinny black kid with a buzzed head and a thousand-watt smile. He said he lived down in one of the basement units, though I never saw it. His father drank a lot, and didn’t like company. We would sometimes hang out at my place, but it was kind of cramped, and my mother was usually home. So Robert and I spent a lot of time on the roof of the building.

It was terribly exciting. I remember the way my heart used to skip and flutter when we stole cigarettes from the corner store, or slipped a forty into our baggy jeans. On cool autumn nights, when Robert and I would lie back on a blanket and look at the stars, my skin would get inexplicably warm. I’d feel strange and fuzzy all over, and it was more than just the watery beer.

He talked to me a lot about how he wanted to be a pilot. He’d always dreamed of joining the Air Force. His dad said it was a stupid idea. They don’t let faggots in the army. I’d never heard that word before. Faggot. It felt heavy, and dirty, and also thrilling in the same way that everything about Robert was. When he cupped my face in his wide hands and pressed our lips together, it was like the hormonal floodgates burst open and I was suddenly hungry in ways I’d never experienced.

I started to suspect Robert was not real when I saw him fall nine stories into a dumpster below, and get up again without so much as a scratch on him. I decided to ignore all better judgment, because I wanted to keep kissing him.

We only lived in that Detroit apartment for about eight months. By the end, I was well and truly in love, and when Robert whispered that there was a way we could stay together–I almost listened. But I didn’t want to step off the roof. I was scared. I knew it would hurt. When I refused, Robert became despondent and disappeared. I didn’t see him at all the last three days I spent in that building.

Versions of skinwalkers and shape shifters appear in most cultures.

It’s a terrifying idea. Being hurt by something that looks like a friend. Danger that seems harmless. Wolves in sheep’s clothing.

I can’t help but wonder if something as old as humanity itself might be the thing these legends sprang from. Perhaps these stories are warnings of some primal memory. A creature that looks like a person, but absolutely isn’t.

After my parents split up, my mother and I went to Ohio. She had a sister there, just a short drive from Columbus. We all lived together in a trailer, along with my five-year-old cousin Becca.

I was sixteen by then, so I was often left to watch Becca after school and on weekends. I didn’t mind it too much. It wasn't like I had other friends. She’d fill in her coloring books while I did homework, then we’d go outside.

There was another little girl next door. Tess. She and Becca loved to run around together, racing up and down the dirt roads, playing tag. Whenever they’d go too far off, too close to the parkway for comfort, I’d call them back. Becca usually listened, but Tess always seemed reluctant. I didn’t think a whole lot of it.

One day, when I was a little too engrossed in reading a comic book and not watching the girls closely, I heard a shriek.

“Tess! Watch out!”

I looked up just in time to see a semi-truck blasting past, not even slowing down as it ran little Tess right over. My jaw dropped. Panic shot through me. Sure, she wasn’t my kid, and I hadn’t even been directly tasked with watching her, but this was still ostensibly my fault.

I was on my feet, ready to run to Mr. Callhun’s house to borrow his phone and call the police.

But Tess was still standing there. Completely unharmed. She skipped off the road, giggling and whispering into Becca’s ear. Becca still looked a bit shell shocked, but smiled and hugged Tess close.

My stomach twisted. It was terrible to see from the outside. One of those things trying to get my baby cousin.

When I got close enough, I grabbed Becca’s wrist and tugged her away. Tess eyed me. Cold and calculating. Unlike any of them had ever looked at me before.

Perhaps I’d gotten too old. The whimsical thinking of childhood had given way to suspicion and fear. Perhaps it could tell that I’d caught onto the game. Perhaps it was angry I could even still see it. Most people my age couldn’t.

“You leave Becca alone,” I said firm as my cracking pubescent voice could muster.

“Or what?” Tess smiled at me. I’d never noticed how sharp her canines were. How mean those overgrown, dirty fingernails looked. I hadn’t taken the time to get a really good look at her until that moment.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“Adam!” Becca began trying to struggle out of my grasp. Obviously embarrassed.

Tess had started to back away, still smiling. She probably knew I couldn’t do anything to her. But maybe I’d get someone who could. A priest or a rabbi or something.

“Becca.” I kneeled down to be at her eye level. “Look at me. Tess isn’t real, OK? Real people can’t get run over by a truck and live.”

“Let me go!” Becca wailed, pushing at my hand ineffectually, trying to squirm free.

“Becca. Please. It’s important. You can’t play by the road with Tess anymore. She wants to hurt you.”

Becca broke down into ugly tears. Face bright red. Windpipes constricting to form unholy shrieks. I sighed, picked her up and carried her back to the trailer. She cried herself out and fell asleep on the couch.

When her mother got home that night, I told her Becca was playing way too close to the road and wouldn’t listen when I said it was dangerous. I hoped that was enough to warrant keeping her inside for a while.

It wasn’t more than a few weeks before Becca stopped talking about Tess. When I asked, she said that Tess had gone away. I took comfort in the fact that I hadn’t seen her around either.

Anglerfish are grotesque creatures. Ugly, with long fangs and dull eyes. But in the depths of oceanic trenches, they can hide in the shadows. The only visible part of them is the glowing ball of light that sprouts from an antenna at the top of their head.

They advertise salvation, the only source of illumination in the pits of despair. But any creature that takes the bait meets a sticky end.

I still see them every now and then. Little old ladies begging for help across a busy street, right when the light is about to change. Pretty strangers at bars who are far too aggressive in urging me to have another drink. Lonely hitchhikers that ask to travel to places the GPS will never find. But don’t worry. They know the way.

I’m not sure what they are. I can’t be the only one who notices them. After all, most of us had the ability at one point. We just grew out of it. Perhaps we shed it as a survival mechanism.

Perhaps I’m one in a million. A kid who got stuck with a genetic allele that should have been bred out generations ago. Perhaps my existence is purposeful, and I’m a new evolution when it comes to defending ourselves against the strange and bitter unknown.

I can only say one thing for sure. Keep a close eye on your children when they start to tell you about their new invisible friend. Chances are, that friend is not friendly at all.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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forgle · 7 years ago

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Five Weeks In Detention Chapter 3: The Second Week

Read it on AO3

Chapter 3/6

Word Count: 1970

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Annabeth was a mess.

She barely woke up in time to get to school but she still missed the bus. She got dressed and grabbed her backpack. Not bothering to even brush her hair. Annabeth even tried to calculate what time she'd get to school if she walked as she brushed her teeth. She walked down the stairs to the living room. Actually hoping Karen would be downstairs for the first time in her life. Of course, she wasn't. Her minivan wasn't outside either.

Annabeth's only options were walking or calling Piper. Piper had said before that she would drive Annabeth anytime she needed. But Annabeth wasn't sure if that included morning.

Annabeth decided that getting to school late was better than not getting to school at all. She grabbed a granola bar, opened the front door, and started walking.

Annabeth quickly learned that a windbreaker and a Hawaiian shirt were no match for the weather. Every few minutes she would start running just to warm herself up. The sun kept hiding behind clouds as she walked. When she finally got to school she was thirty minutes late to World History. She suspected her heavy backpack was slowing her down. Annabeth decided not to mention anything to Piper when she drove her home after detention.

The next day was no better. Annabeth woke up late, this time she didn't even bother getting dressed, she just wore the same thing as yesterday. She didn't brush her hair this time either.

Karen wasn't there again. Neither was her father but there's no need to point that out. He was working so often it seemed like he only saw home as a place to sleep.

Annabeth walked again, trying to run a bit more this time. She was about twenty minutes from the school when a familiar blue Pontiac pulled up next to her. 'Thank God.' She thought.

The passenger window rolled down. The sound of Neon Musk played and the familiar face of Piper McLean leaned towards the window. “Get in, hippie,”

Annabeth didn't need to be told twice. She yanked open the door and got in. “Piper McLean you are the best. Oh my god.” She leaned over to hug Piper.

“Yeah, I know, buckle up,” Piper said.

Leo Valdez leaned forward from the backseat. “I'm here too.”

“Hi, Leo,” Annabeth buckled her seatbelt. “Why aren't you in the front seat?”

“I banned him from it,” Piper said, starting to drive again.

Annabeth hugged her backpack as they sped up. “Why?”

“Tell her, Leo,”

Leo crossed his arms. “I hotwired the car as an experiment,”

“Sorry, how was that an experiment?” Annabeth asked.

“I wanted to see if I could actually do it.”

“You’re lucky I didn't ban you entirely,” Piper said.

“Love you!” Leo said. Piper just flipped him off.

A new song started playing. It was a man singing. “This isn't Neon Musk,” Annabeth said.

“Oh my God, you memorized the names of these mixes?” Leo was grinning ear to ear. “Piper, keep her.”

Piper pulled up in front of the entrance to the school. “Go inside, I'm gonna park.”

Leo kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Pipes,” He said, getting out of the car.

Annabeth thanked Piper and got out of the car. Piper drove off to the parking lot. The exhaust looked white in the cold air.

Annabeth and Leo walked to the entrance side by side. Leo held the door open for Annabeth. “Why the hell did you think walking to school was a good idea?” He asked.

“I missed the bus and I had no one to drive me.”

“Piper would have driven you, I mean, she drove me.”

“Well I walked yesterday too, I need to commit to something.”

“So you're gonna walk several miles in 50-degree weather every day?”

“No. Let's just change the subject. What do you wanna be when you grow up?” Annabeth stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“One, Piper likes helping people. Two, I want to be a mechanic.” Leo counted off on his fingers.

“That's a cool career. It makes sense since you hotwire people's cars.” Annabeth joked.

Leo stuck out his tongue. “What about you?”

“I wanna be an architect.”

“That's cool, Leo stopped outside a classroom that Annabeth had never been inside. “I gotta go to Spanish.”

“Isn't cheating if you take a foreign language you're fluent in?”

Leo shushed Annabeth and entered the classroom. Annabeth went to World History. Thankful that she was actually a few minutes early. She pulled out her phone and texted Piper quickly.

[Me]: Piper, you are the best person ever

[Piper]: Don't thank me, it's not like I could've just driven past you

[Me]: Okay, well I hope you meet a nice dog for no reason then

[Piper]: Thank you

The bell rang, making Annabeth jump. She slipped her phone into her pocket and looked at the front of the classroom.

Later at lunch, Annabeth did what she usually did. Wandered around until she found an empty table or a table without many people who don't notice her. Part of her hated that this was her life now but she was used to it.

“Annabeth!” a voice said before someone grabbed Annabeth's arm. Annabeth's mind went straight to attack mode. But when she turned around and saw Leo she immediately calmed down. “Come sit with me and Piper.”

Annabeth nodded and Leo guided her. The only person at the entire table was Piper. Leo sat down next to her and Annabeth sat across from the two of them. “How do you have an entire table to yourself?” Annabeth asked, taking a bite of bland mac and cheese.

Piper added some black pepper to her Mac and cheese.“People think we're a clique so they steer clear.”

“What kind of clique only has two people?”

“I've wondered that my whole life,” Piper replied before taking a bite of the mac and cheese.

“It's a clique of three, now,” Leo said. He was pouring hot sauce on his mac and cheese. Annabeth didn't even know where he got it.

“Hell yeah, the Wannabe Biker, the Wannabe Hipster, and the Wannabe Mechanic.” Piper cheered.

Annabeth was really happy to be in their clique, even if it was fake.

It wasn't that Annabeth was lonely. She just hadn't made a single real friend since she moved back from New York.

Leo took a bit of his mac and cheese. He added more hot sauce and took another. “That's like a shitty group of superheroes, I love it.”

The three of them kept chatting throughout lunch. Annabeth kept accidentally staring at Piper. Admiring the way her brown eyes sparkled when she laughed, the way her black hair shined when she would shake her head in disbelief whenever Leo opened his mouth.

Annabeth looked at Piper's shirt. It was a white crew neck with black hems and a rainbow going across Piper's chest. Annabeth noticed that she could see Piper's bra through the fabric. As soon as she noticed she realized that It was obvious she was staring at Piper's chest. Apparently, it was too late because Piper noticed.

“Annabeth, what's with your obsession with my boobs?” Piper asked.

Annabeth blushed. “I was just looking at the design.” She argued

“That's what they all say.”

“You got a lot of people looking at your boobs then?”

Piper winked. “Jealous?”

'Yes, very.' Annabeth thought.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You wish.”

At the end of the day Piper And Annabeth walked out if the school together. Apparently, Piper had to park far away from the school today since all the good spots were taken.

They kept walking and talking when suddenly someone came up from behind Annabeth and covered her eyes. A voice said “Guess who,” near Annabeth's ear. It wasn't familiar.

Annabeth was a bit worried, but she knew that this guy's grip wasn't tight so she could escape. From her position, she could easily elbow him or kick him in the leg. And worse case scenario, Piper would intervene.

“Get the fuck off her,” the familiar voice of Piper said.

“Don't worry I'm her friend, we're fine,” the unfamiliar voice of whoever was covering her eyes said.

“She punched the last guy who said that so I'd be careful if I were you,” Piper said. Annabeth could hear in her voice that her arms were crossed.

The hands lifted from Annabeth's eyes. They fogged up her glasses that she forgot she was wearing. Annabeth immediately turned around to see who covered her eyes. She couldn't see who it was because of her glasses. She took them off and saw a slightly green tinted Percy Jackson. She hugged him as soon as she recognized him.

“Who the hell have you been punching, Annabeth?” Percy asked, hugging her back.

“Just some asshole,” Annabeth said as she let go.

Annabeth saw Piper standing to the side, kind of awkwardly. “Uh, Percy, this is my friend Piper,” Annabeth gestured towards Piper. Piper gave a two-finger-salute. “And Piper this is Percy.”

Piper and Percy awkwardly exchanged pleasantries and everyone became silent quickly. Annabeth was struck by the realization that it was her responsibility to keep the conversation going. She tried to think of a conversation topic that would intrigue both Piper and Percy but they seemingly had nothing in common. She decided to say the only thing on her mind. “Why are you in California?”

“I'm gonna work at another camp here next summer and I'm just checking the place out.”

“Why aren't you there right now?”

“I’m heading there tomorrow and I couldn’t not visit you. I have a whole day planned, just the two of us.”

“Let me guess, we're going to the beach in 50-degree weather?”

Percy smiled, “What else would we do? Let's go, right now.”

“I don't have a swimsuit or anything,” Annabeth crossed her arms.

“I'll buy you one, aren't there like a million stores that still sell them in October?”

“Yes, there are,” Piper said. “Annabeth, you should go, it'll be fun,”

Annabeth nodded. “Okay, bye Piper,” Annabeth went to hug her, Piper stood on her toes.

“And look, you're already dressed for the occasion,” Piper said and she let go.

“Yeah, you look like my dad,” Percy said.

Piper laughed at Percy's comment. Annabeth thought her laugh was beautiful. She loved that laugh.

The group parted ways. Annabeth and Percy went to Percy's car and Piper went to her own. Piper drove by Percy and Annabeth, holding up a peace sign against the window. Annabeth held up a peace sign too, though she wasn't sure if Piper could see it.

Percy and Annabeth got into Percy's car and he started the engine. “How did you know where I go to school? And actually, how did you know I have detention?” Annabeth asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

“I have my resources,” Percy said, also buckling his seatbelt.

“Thalia told you?”

“Maybe.” Percy pulled out of the parking space and went to leave the lot. “Piper seems cool,” he said.

“Yeah, she is, she’s been driving me home from school since I got detention.”

“So is she just a friend?” Percy asked.

“Of course!” Annabeth blushed.

Percy looked at her, “You know, the blushing implies that she isn’t, or that you don’t want to be.”

“Well, maybe I don’t. I have no idea to express that I’m interested though.”

“Just spontaneously kiss her like you did with me.”

“Wow, so helpful, Percy,” Annabeth rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day.

“I love you,”

“I love you too, and I missed you.” Annabeth smiled.

“Now, where can we find a swimsuit in October?” Percy said as he drove the two of them to the beach. In October.

#pipabeth #percy jackson #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Piper McLean #annabeth chase #Leo Valdez #The Heroes of Olympus #Heroes of Olympus #hoo #pjo #my writing

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jediofgrace · 7 years ago

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30 Kisses

So, I have written this little fic instead of finishing my Cloud City story. I’m sorry or you’re welcome? I posted it on ffn, but since it’s only 1500 words, I thought I’d post it here too. Enjoy!

Leia studied the datapad, squinting as the sun reflected on the screen. She closed her eyes for a moment, mentally calculating. Yes, that was enough. After closing the bin and locking the lid, she lifted it and handed it off to Luke.

“I hear the next place we’re going is a bit cooler,” he said as he hefted the bin.

“Where did you hear that?” She gave him a wry look as she shook her head. “It’s cooler all right. Frozen solid, in fact.” She studied the datapad, making sure the next bin was ready to go.

“Oh,” Luke said as he walked away. “Well, maybe it’ll feel good after this.”

She tucked a strand of hair, frizzed by the humidity, behind her ear. Yes, maybe the cooler, or frozen, planet would feel good. The temperature on Yavin today, it being the middle of summer, had to be nearing 100. She wore light military-issue brown pants but had taken off her button-up, long sleeve shirt awhile ago, leaving only her sleeveless gray shirt. She almost wished she could shed that one as well. The men around the base, at least the ones working outside, were mostly shirtless and glistening with sweat in the sunlight.

She looked up to see Han Solo striding towards her. Speaking of glistening…

“Hey. That one ready?” He pointed to the bin at her feet.

“Yes.” Did she just whisper? She quickly bent down and grabbed the bin to give to him. He reached for it, his fingers gliding across hers as he transferred its weight to his arms. She shivered, apparently her body forgot it was a million degrees out here.

“This is heavy. You can just leave them on the ground, you know. We can pick ‘em up.”

“I don’t mind.”

He shrugged as he turned to carry the bin to the door that led to the hangar, where the cargo transport waited. Luke nodded to Han as they passed each other.

She knelt down to seal the bin, hoping she did it right. She felt her skin prickle and flush as she thought of last night, when Han had-

“Oof, these bins are sure heavy. We have to carry all of them?”

Leia smiled at her dear friend, all tanned, but still a bit on the skinny side, at least compared to Han…

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” She gave herself a silent cheer for sounding normal.

“Oh well. We’ll get it done.” Luke turned and walked away. Now Han was back, smiling just the way he did last night before he-

“I hope you gave Luke the heavy one. That boy needs the workout.”

“I tried to spread the weight evenly,” she responded.

“Luke’s the one complaining, Princess, not me.”

“I am not!” Luke hollered just before he disappeared.

Han came to stand in front of her, and thinking he was going to take the bin at her feet, she moved to the side. When he didn’t take it, she looked up at him, and before she knew it, he leaned in and kissed her; quickly, firmly. Then without a word, he picked up the bin and walked away.

She moved to the next bin. She was right, that was the same smile he had just before he had kissed her last night. They had been outside, enjoying the cool evening. That was the only time there was any relief from the heat these days, so she had taken to walking through the forest outside the base before bed. Until last night she had always walked alone, but Han had seen her leaving and had followed her. She had been glad for his company and the walk was nice. She was having a hard time fighting her attraction to him lately, her thoughts turning to him at the most random times of the day. Several times a day. Every day. Then in the dusky evening light, alone in the trees…

She tapped on her 'pad, attempting to focus on the task at hand. If it was discovered after the move that her bins weren’t properly categorized and labeled, and if someone were to ask her why… Well, she couldn’t very well say she had been busy daydreaming. She nodded to Luke as he took another bin and walked off.

Her mind quickly wandered again though as she checked her messages on comlink. She smiled to herself as she remembered how it had gone off last night. When she had stopped to check it, Han had stopped too. She’d leaned against a tree as she answered the message, aware that he was standing very close and seemed to be getting closer. She had kept typing as out of the corner of her eye she saw him put a hand on the tree above her head, leaning over her just a bit.

“Watcha writing?”

“Riekeen wants to know my schedule for tomorrow.”

“Hmm. Aren’t we moving the computer equipment from the north-side comm center tomorrow?”

“Yes, but he needs to organize a run to Ord Mantell either tomorrow or the next day.” She had looked up at him, wondering what that light stubble on his chin felt like.

“Would you be, um, able to take me?”

He had just grinned at her. Had she really said “take me”? No wonder he’d smiled like that! She felt herself blush right there in broad daylight. He must have known she hadn’t intended that bit of innuendo, and he’d simply answered, “Sure.” But then he had leaned down and kissed her. He didn’t rush, he just gently put his lips on hers. Tasting, feeling, asking. She was pretty sure she’d answered his kiss in a definite yes. Now she was blushing in earnest. She didn’t dare look up as she heard Han approaching. She tapped on her 'pad, hoping whatever she was typing was right. She sealed the bin and stood up. She felt the heat in her face and hoped maybe he would think it was just from the temperature. He probably knew better.

Feeling a bit flustered she picked up the bin to give to him again.

“Hey, really, just leave them on the ground. No use straining your back.” He came to her, kissed her lips for a full five seconds, grabbed the bin and walked away again. She watched the muscles of his shoulders and arms, all taut and beautiful as he carried the heavy load. He met Luke in the doorway and handed the bin to him, then he turned and was walking back to her before she had time to look away. She would be here all day at this rate! She quickly turned and started working again.

“Luke says that one wasn’t heavy enough.”

She smirked at him. “Well, tell Luke he can carry two next time.” She added a couple of wire spools to the next crate, marking it on her list. There. She could do this. This one goes here, that one goes there. She turned to see he was behind her. Right behind her. The heat from his body…and oh, he smelled good. He was sweaty, but it was a good sweaty. He smelled masculine and hot and just so, so good. She turned to face him completely, almost daring him to kiss her again. He didn’t disappoint, his tongue grazing her lips before he broke away. He stacked one of the crates on top of the bin, and with a grunt, he lifted them both.

“I’ll tell Luke you said to buck up and take two at a time.” He grinned at her before turning to walk back. His arms were huge with muscle and…

Okay. Fine. She wanted those bulging, muscle-filled arms around her. Right now. Hot and sweaty? Not a problem. All of a sudden she felt cold and lonely. She needed that extra heat of his body. Couldn’t they go for a walk? Like, right now? This work could wait for awhile…

What. Was. She. Doing…?!

She peeked up from her 'pad. Han was at the doorway, handing his load to Luke, who wasn’t quite as strong, or quite as tall, and seemed to have a bit more of a struggle to carry them both. Han slapped him on the back as Luke slowly made his way back inside. Once again, Han was heading back to her. He had apparently worked out a little relay system, putting him within kissing range every few minutes.

This time Han didn’t stop for a bin but came straight to her. She lifted her head to accept his lips. He didn’t put his arms around her (like she wanted), but as he kissed her, his hands went to her shoulders and ever so slowly, they slid down her arms, and when he reached her hands, he pulled back, then picked up the bin and walked off, just in time to meet Luke in the doorway.

She looked around her. There were probably 30 bins plus several crates left. Would that mean 30 more kisses? She could only hope.

#scoundressaturdays #Ord Mantell isn't going to be a happy time for Han and Leia

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jessicarosewrites · 8 years ago

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Rubatosis - A Short Story

“You can only choose one.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, rubbing at them hard. “I know that.”

His voice is soft and kind and all the more damning for it. “You're being cruel.”

She pauses and breathes too deeply in. She still can't get used to the smell. “I know that too.”

But how can she choose?

Opia; the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

He pays for her coffee. She'd deliberately left her wallet behind to see what he'd do, and he pays for her coffee. She gives her name to the barista and the man who pays for her coffee smiles at her and says her name is pretty.

His eyes meet hers and she can see that he brings life into the world. He helps people carry groceries. He has a dog and a son and he is barely getting by, but he still pays for her coffee.

She promises to pay him back and he attempts to wave her off, but she insists. They plan to meet the next day, and she makes sure to buy him the muffin he hadn't been able to afford the first time.

“So what do you do?”

She smiles and deflects. She does a lot of deflecting. She knows he is latching hard onto her because she appears as hope and a promise of better things. She cannot blame him for doing so.

He is lonely this man, lonely and missing the partner that left him for another. He is filled with shame and exhaustion and guilt. He is terrified that he cannot be the father his son needs just as he could not be the husband his partner deserved. He sees in her what he could have had, even though he cannot look into her eyes for more than a breath at a time. He can no doubt sense that she is seeing more than she should be able to.

“Who are you?”

She sips at her drink, looking away. She always sees more of them than they do of her, but it is a two way connection.

She puts down her mug and smiles. “Nobody.” She watches as his gaze becomes unfocused, as she gently wills his perception of her to fade away. “I'm nobody at all.”

Iktsuarpok; The feeling of anticipation that leads you to keep looking outside to see if anyone is coming.

He has been unable to stop looking at her and she fidgets underneath his gaze, unsure of the appropriate protocol. It is not uncommon that some recognise her for what she is and some are fascinated. Most find it easier to ignore her. This man does neither.

“I knew you'd come sooner or later.”

She bristles. “I take this bus every morning-”

“I meant to me.” He looks triumphant, as if she has acted precisely as he'd predicted as he pulls down his face mask. “I knew you'd come up to me.”

“I don't even know you.”

“But you've been following me.”

She bites down hard on her tongue, cursing her own carelessness. “Why would I do something like that?”

The man shrugs. “Why would a young woman follow me around? But I'm not interested.” He raises his left hand, wiggling his ring finger at her in a manner that makes her want to snap it off. “I'm incredibly faithful to my partner.”

She only just stops her eyes from rolling into the back of her head but he has not finished talking.

“I know it's very easy nowadays to think that we're friends, but I don't like being followed around when I'm not on an official schedule. I'll ignore it just this once, but I don't want you doing this again, okay?”

She is so thoroughly stunned into silence he takes it as acceptance. His smile is bright and dazzling as he hands her an official photograph, pre-autographed.

“Tell the rest of them to stop following me around, won't you? I thought getting married would stop the majority of you, but I guess I'm super lucky to have such dedicated fans.”

As if on cue his bus arrives and he shoves his mask back down over his mouth, his sunglasses firmly back in place. He raises his finger to his mouth before turning and boarding.

She glimpses down at the photograph in her hands as the bus drives off. She doesn't recognise the name, but she would have to have been blind not to recognise the face from the billboards around town.

She wonders why he still uses public transport and tries not to feel helpless about that fact.

Monachopsis; the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

He can't find the book she's looking for and the sheepish smile he shoots her makes amusement bubble warm and friendly in her gut.

“Sorry, I just started here.”

She'd been surprised to find him at a library. He did not seem the type to care about categorisations or alphanumerical sequencing. And clearly, by the difficulty he was having in locating the book she'd requested, her assessment had been correct.

She is about to speak when she is interrupted by the rhythmic, annoyed beat of shoes tapping the floor. His eyes fly up and he glowers at whoever is standing behind her.

“I'm working as fast as I can,” he huffs and she cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at him. When he notices her expression, the sheepish smile is back. “I've never heard of the book you're looking for.”

“You've not heard of Harry Potter?” She smoothly questions and by the number of snorts behind her she knows there is an audience watching her interaction with the hapless new information officer.

He bites down on his lower lip as something creeps into his light eyes and she immediately feels empathy nip at her. So sensitive, this one. So young.

She sighs and leans over the counter to look at the display on the computer screen. “Well that's why you can't find it.”

“What?” He clearly doesn't know where to look – at her or at the screen. She bites back a chuckle before she points at his screen, giving him somewhere safe to direct his gaze rather than at her.

“All the copies have been borrowed,” she explains gently. She lets herself down and meets his eyes for the moment that it is safe to do so. “Thanks for your help.”

The smile that lights his face is sunshine and summer. “Thank you for being so patient!”

She smiles briefly before turning and walking away. As soon as she is out of sight the smile falls from her face and she sighs.

He is so young.

Altschmerz; the weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

She does not like him. She knows she does not like him from the instant she sits down and his eyes rove over her, calculating and assessing her worth. She would have been able to tell the dislike was mutual even if she hadn't heard him shouting at his secretary before she was let in.

“I have better things to do than this interview, so you better make this worth my while.”

She grits her teeth and forces a smile on her face even as he flips through her CV like it is made out of trash rather than paper. It is easy to make her decision with this one, she thinks as she lets her gaze wander around his office.

But then she sees the half empty bottle of whiskey tucked away behind the books. She sees the photos sticking out from where they have been hastily shoved. She sees the open calendar on his desk and the appointment he is missing to talk to her.

“You're observant, aren't you?”

She jumps and looks up, only then realising that he has been watching her rather than looking at the papers in front of him.

“What did you see?”

This is the first time in a long while that she has been cowed into looking away. “N-Nothing-”

“Bullshit.” He leans in toward her and her grip tightens on the arms of the chair she's sitting in. “Tell me what you saw and maybe I don't ruin any chances of you getting employed in this field.”

A meaningful threat had she been someone he had any control over. At least now she has nothing to lose if she drops the pretence.

He is expecting her to flinch away but she does no such thing. The satisfaction that seeps into her gut is a sly, vicious thing when she sees that she has unsettled him.

“When were you diagnosed?” He does not react but she is not expecting him to. She continues, “The fact that you're hiring must mean you've not got long before they vote you off the board.” She does not attempt to sound gentle. “Only a few years away from retiring gracefully. That must sting.”

He is silent for a moment, but she does not have long to wait before he retreats. He sits back and clasps his hands together, his gaze sharp if cool.

She is not cruel. She is not. She will not take pleasure in his misfortune. She nods toward the photos. “How are your grandchildren?”

“I wouldn't know. I haven't seen them since the diagnosis.” He reaches back in a practiced movement before setting the whiskey bottle and two glasses in front of him. “My daughter seems to think what I have is contagious. Do you drink?”

She doesn't, but he has been drinking alone for too long. She lets him nudge a glass toward her and she takes a sip. Neither of them register the sting of the alcohol and he swishes the amber liquid in the glass as he looks through her.

“I've been making the same mistake for decades. It wasn't until the diagnosis that I realised that.” His voice is rough and it is not from the whiskey. “And it wasn't until I wanted to be there that I realised I wasn't wanted there.” He raises his glass, a twisted smile on his lips. “Turns out you don't get wiser with age.”

He downs the rest of his whiskey and she takes another sip as he refills his glass. “If you want the job, you've got it.” She almost chokes and when he looks at her this time it is with begrudging respect. “You're more than what you seem, kid.”

If only he knew.

Kenopsia: The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.

He has not moved and she cannot decide if she should call an ambulance or leave him. She'd seen the entire thing and she knows he is a big man. She wants to turn away and know no more about him.

But it is very dark and he is very alone and she cannot leave him. She can't leave any of them.

She keeps an eye on her surroundings when she approaches him, even though she knows that the chances of anyone sneaking up on them is low on this street. “Excuse me?” His head lolls in her direction and she catches her breath as the street lamp illuminates the side of his face. But at least he is breathing. “Are you okay?”

He snorts and it is not the sound she is expecting him to make. “Do I look okay to you?”

He has a point and she tries not to feel too annoyed. “Do you need to go to a hospital?”

He shakes his head. He turns away from her, dismissing her. “You should get home, lady. Streets aren't safe this late.”

He cannot know that she cannot be physically harmed, but his concern for her is still sweet. “You should get medical attention-”

“I can't pay for it anyhow.” He shifts, sitting up against the wall more firmly so he can look up at her. “What are the likes of you even doing around here?”

She deflects. “You knew you couldn't take on all of them,” she kneels by his side, peering at his head to assess the damage. “You should have just walked away.”

“Wasn't raised that way.” He eyes her warily as she raises something to his face. “What-”

“Stay still,” she admonishes and he does stop moving enough to let her dab at the blood on his face. “You're lucky you're not-” but she cuts herself off before she can say too much. Her eyes drift to his arms and she changes the topic to the tattoos she sees. “You're military?”

“Three tours.”

She frowns as she continues to clean up what she can of his face. “Don't they teach you not to take on hopeless battles, soldier?”

“Think I missed that class.”

She knew she should have left him to his own devices. She likes him. “Can I call someone for you?”

“No one that'll pick up.” He doesn't flinch away from her gaze and he only shrugs. “Being a good soldier doesn't mean being a good man.”

“I don't believe that.” She'd just seen him intervene in a mugging when he didn't have to. He gained nothing by getting himself involved. “You seem like the type that fights for justice.”

“Doesn't make me a good man.” His eyes focus on her more intently and she stiffens under his gaze. “You don't seem like the type that gets involved. No offence.”

“None taken.” She sits back on her heels, examining him more closely than she would have in the daylight.

He is not a good looking man, she muses. There is nothing soft about him. Depending on the situation he would be either exceedingly terrifying or reassuringly sturdy. She would prefer to believe he is the latter, if only in some comfort to herself. He is a veteran of war. He will not succumb so readily to death.

But she knows better than most how fragile life is.

She shoots up to stand so quickly that she should have felt dizzy. “You're right. I don't get involved. So I'll just-”

“Hey lady.”

She freezes when he reaches up to her, but he merely opens his hand and reveals the cloth she'd been using. “Don't forget your handkerchief.”

Rubatosis; the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

One or none.

“You don't have much time.”

She hears their heartbeats slowing as she sees more and more blood seeping onto the road. “Why are you even giving me a choice?”

He is quiet and the silence is enough of a rebuke before his soft voice says, “Because there is always a choice.”

“None of them deserve this,” she replies fiercely, her fists clenched with the full force of her impotence.

“Do any of them?”

She is sick of the lessons. She is sick of the job. She is sick of everything and most of all she is sick that there is nothing she can do to change anything.

She couldn't stop the bus from arriving at each stop. She couldn't stop them from getting on. She couldn't change the bus route, she couldn't control the weather. She couldn't do anything but watch and now she can't even decide.

“You don't have to use it.” Her teacher's voice is soft, as always. So understanding. So compassionate. She wonders how he is able to remain so kind. “Most don't. The burden is very heavy.”

But she knows that if she doesn't now, she will never. And she doesn't want to become like that. She doesn't want to forget how hard it is to choose. She may not have a heart anymore. She may not be human. But she had been.

Their heartbeats have synced, she realises. They are fading together on this old bridge, the red and blue lights and the sirens too far away.

So she chooses.

Later.

They are finally here. She sighs and closes her eyes briefly in relief before she places her hand on his shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

His eyes flutter open, consciousness no doubt rude and abrupt. His gaze begins to focus on her when he is distracted by his daughter's voice crying out his name.

She watches as his grandchildren settle themselves at his side. She watches his daughter hug him tight. She watches him as he finally sees her, standing at the foot of his hospital bed.

She smiles as best she can. “Just long enough to say goodbye,” she says softly, even though no one else can see or hear her. “That's all I can do.”

When she takes his hand that night, he smiles and closes his eyes. She counts his heartbeats as he fades, peacefully and all at once.

Inspired by Thirty and a Half Minutes as well as The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.

This was written in response to a prompt challenge initiated by some of my friends. I asked five of them for three adjectives each, and used those adjectives as the building blocks for each of the characters that the protagonist meets.

#jessica rose writes #original fiction #rubatosis #the dictionary of obscure sorrows #thirty and a half minutes #jessica rose

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