#pearl is fast friends with alex

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me? - Ch. 5

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synopsis: Jake and Y/N take their kids to say goodbye to a friend, but it goes as well as one can expect. The Seresins also learn what the next course of action is for Ella's treatment.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: medical inaccuracies, childhood cancer, death, funerals, cursing, traumatic events, fighting, slut shaming, mentions of cheating.

Jake could remember the first funeral he ever went to. He was six, not much older than Ella is now, and it was for his grandfather. His mother had dressed him up in a small black suit with a burnt orange tie, a nod towards his grandfather’s beloved Texas longhorns. His mother was dressed in a black dress and had a simple strand of pearls around her neck, the same as two of his sisters. His father was dressed similarly to Jake; black suit, orange tie. 

Jake could remember walking into the church, a place he had been to a thousand times over, but now it was covered in memorial flowers and people all dressed in black. Some of the ladies wore elegant hats with lace veils over their faces. The men all seemed to have cleaned their watches and dug out their alumni rings for the occasion. Jake’s father was stopped several times in the foyer by people giving him their condolences. Jake wasn’t sure why everyone was stopping in front of a long wooden box, the women walking away with tears in their eyes. 

“Come on,” Jolene said to her children, “Let’s go say goodbye to grandpa.” 

All Jake could do was nod as Jolene led them over to the wooden box at the front of the sanctuary. Jake froze about three feet from the box, his heart beating fast in his chest at the sight in front of him. He felt his hands grow clammy as Jolene turned around to look at her son, who looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“Jake?” Jolene asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“That’s not grandpa.” Jake shook his head, pointing towards the box, “That’s not him!” 

Jolene gave Jake a said smile, crouching down in front of him, “It is grandpa, Jake. It’s grandpa’s earth body. His spirit is up in heaven with Jesus.” 

“They messed him up,” Jake whispered, “That’s not him!” 

“How about we take a look?” Jolene pleaded with her son. Jake reluctantly nodded as Jolene stood to her full height and took his hand. Slowly they walked together to stand in front of the casket. 

Jake took one look in and turned his head. The body laying in the casket looked nothing like the man he remembered. His skin was pale, almost blue and waxy. His hair looked fake and as if they used way too much hairspray to get the combover to lay flat. It all just looked wrong to Jake. It was all just wrong. 

“That’s not him,” Jake shook his head as he sat down in the front row with his mother and waited for the service to begin. The whole time Jake kept repeating in his head that the man in the box was not his grandfather. 

Ever since that moment at six years old, Jake dreaded funerals. It was horrible, but Jake did all he could to avoid going to them. Y/N practically had to drag him to Tom Kazansky’s funeral, and even then, Jake took Alex to the nursery about half way through the service. It wasn’t that Jake was scared to bare his emotions and mourn the loss of a life. It was that he hated seeing the body lying all alone in the pinewood box. He hated knowing that their body was going to stay there for the rest of eternity until they rotted away into nothing. He hated knowing that the last glimpse of your loved one was going to be when the funeral director closed the lid. 

“Dad,” Alex’s soft voice filled the room. Jake was sitting on the bed, trying to come up with an excuse to not go to this funeral, “Can you help me with my tie?” 

“Sure,” Jake nodded, sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of Alex. Y/N had gotten them both matching forest green ties, “You look good.” 

“Thank you,” Alex nodded, scrunching his nose up to push his glasses up farther. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the small movement. No one was quite sure when Alex started doing that, but it was cute, “I asked Mommy to help me but Ella is sick.” 

Jake’s smile turned into a small frown, “I know. . . how are you feeling about this?” 

It wasn’t very often that Jake got to stop and have a conversation with Alex about everything that has gone on. Sure the boy was only seven, but he still had some idea of what was going on with his sister. Y/N and Jake’s worst fear was Alex and Eli feeling ignored during all of this. They made sure at least once a week they were taking the boys out to do something fun whether that was the arcade or the park. Eli was still too little to understand anything but Alex wasn’t. 

“I’m sad that Ella is sick,” Alex shrugged, “When will she be better?” 

“I don’t know, bud,” Jake sighed, “But what about not having mommy and daddy both here?” 

“Oh,” Alex looked down at the ground, “Well, I guess I’m kind of sad about it. I wish you could both be here, but someone has to stay with Ella.” 

Jake smiled at his son. He was as selfless as his mother, always thinking of others instead of himself, “You’re a good kid, you know that,” Alex nodded his head. Jake placed a kiss on his forehead, before standing to his full height. The two of them walked down the stairs together, finding Y/N and Ella waiting for them. They both wore black dresses and pearl necklaces, only Ella had a black hat on her head to keep her warm. 

“We gotta get going,” Y/N said, standing up from the couch. The two of them loaded the kids up in the car, but Jake hesitated once he shut the car door, “What is it?” 

“Do we both need to go?” Jake looked over at Y/N, “I can stay and watch-” 

“Eli is with Rooster, and yes,” Y/N nodded, “We both need to go. Miranda and Dominick became our friends and we need to support them. . . this could’ve been us.” 

Jake clenched his jaw and nodded. Y/N climbed into the truck without another word, and Jake followed. When they arrived at the church, Jake helped Y/N out of the truck, trying to put on a show of solidarity in front of the other couples from the hospital. Rumors had flown since their spat in the hallway, and most of the parents were ‘Team Y/N’. Y/N didn’t bother saying anything to Jake as she opened the door for the kids and took each of their hands in hers, forcing Jake to walk behind them. 

The vestibule of the church was exactly like Jake could remember the one his grandfather’s funeral was in. People dressed in black, flowers all over, pictures and videos of the deceased being played but no one paid any attention to. Y/N signed the guest book for all four of them, taking a bulletin before making her way into the sanctuary. 

“Remember what we talked about?” Y/N turned towards her kids, “We’re going to walk past Sammy’s body and-“ 

“No!” Ella cried, “I don’t wanna see him!” 

“Ella,” Y/N said quietly, “You don’t have to see Sammy, but we have to walk-” 

“No!” Ella shook her head, Jake placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping to soothe her, “I don’t wanna!” 

 Y/N could feel all eyes being turned towards them and it made her skin heat up, “Baby, we have to walk by-“ 

“No!” Ella’s lip quivered as tears began to spill down her cheeks. Sobs racked her body as she hid her face in her hands, “I don’t wanna see him!” 

Jake picked her up, setting her on his hip, “It’s okay. You don’t have to.” 

“That’s not him!” Ella turned and hid her face into her father’s neck. Y/N felt out of options as Jake gave her a pleading look. She glanced around, noticing the stares and the looks they were gaining. 

“Okay,” She sighed in defeat, “We’ll go.” Jake nodded his head, and turned on his heel, taking his sobbing child out of the church. Y/N looked over to where Miranda and Dominick stood, giving them an apologetic look before following her family. She sighed as she climbed into the truck, leaning back into her seat. She glanced at her children through the rearview mirror; Alex staring at the raindrops sliding down the window and Ella with tears running down her cheeks. 

— — — 

Six weeks. 

It had been six weeks to the day since Y/N made the dumb mistake of falling into bed with her ex-husband. She had never been the one for casual hookups. Jake was her first everything and the most she ever let Miles do to her was go down on her. She had promised herself that she wasn’t going to be a woman who hooks up with her ex-husband out of convenience, but here she was, hooking up with her ex-husband out of convenience and currently watching him as he blatantly flirted with Becky, one of the mom’s in the therapy group. 

The styrofoam cup in Y/N’s hand was hot as she stared daggers at the blonde man, who was turning on his charm as he talked to Becky. The smile. The chuckle. The head tilt. The gentle hand on her arm when he walked away. It all angered Y/N. 

Hell, what didn’t anger Y/N these days. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he sauntered up to you, grabbing one of the glazed donuts on the table. 

‘Fuck you for eating that donut’ Y/N thought. She had always been amazed at Jake’s body and how he was able to eat nearly anything and everything he wanted. But now, it annoyed her. The stress from taking care of her sick child, her poorly timed eating schedule and not being able to go to the gym had their effects on Y/N and she had gained some weight. She hated looking at herself in the mirror and hated even more when Jake would sit and make sure she ate something substantial. 

“Hello?” Jake swiped his hand in front of his wife, earning him a glare. 

“Don’t wave your hand in my face,” She snapped. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologized, “What’s going on? You seem out of it.” 

Y/N pursed her lips, debating on saying something or biting her tongue, “Becky got a boob job last summer with her divorce settlement.” Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her, “You like natural so I thought I’d give you a heads up.” She simply shrugged and walked away to find a chair in the center circle. 

Another thing Y/N didn’t want to say out loud was how much therapy had actually been helping her. She hadn’t said anything more than the bare minimum; who she was, what her child was diagnosed with, what the prognosis is, and a weekly update on how her child is doing. It was nothing more and nothing less than that every meeting. But Y/N did enjoy the adult interaction for an hour twice a week. She didn’t realize how much she missed being around people her own age, even if she couldn’t remember half the names of the people in the group. Jake had attended every meeting with her, sitting next to her and silently supporting her when she gave her opening statement. 

Jake sat down in his usual chair, in the middle of Y/N and Marjorie, the elderly lady who ran the therapy group. She reminded him of his grandmother, permed gray hair, bright pink lipstick on her lips, and she smelled like cherries and vanilla. She also had the slightest southern twang which Jake appreciated from time to time. Marjorie always had a large, leatherbound journal with her at every meeting which confused Jake. He never saw her take any notes, never saw her turn any pages. But the book was in her lap, open to some page at every meeting. 

“Good morning my beautiful caretakers,” Marjorie said, gathering the attention of the group. Y/N fought hard to not roll her eyes at the usual greeting, “Let us start with our daily openings. Jacob, how about you start?” 

“Oh, I’d love to, Marjorie,” Jake smiled at her and Y/N did, in fact, roll her eyes this time. 

Therapy droned on for another hour, as Y/N pretty much blocked out everything that anyone was saying. It was all the same, week after week. But what wasn’t the same, was the two open chairs next to her. It pained her as she glanced over to where Miranda and Dominick had sat just a few weeks ago. No one knew that Sammy had gotten so sick and was circling the drain. Miranda had sat there and told the group that Sammy was still fighting hard, that he was still continuing his treatment with a smile on his face. No one knew that in a few short days, Sammy would pass away in front of his parents. 

Y/N picked up her head and looked at the group of parents and guardians in front of her. She wondered how many of them were saying that their children were still strong and fighting when in reality, the grim reaper was knocking on their door. A sick feeling rose in her belly. The same sick feeling she had been feeling for the past week. 

“I know he’s going to keep-“ 

Y/N stood up quickly, cutting off Becky, who glared at her, “I’m sorry.” She muttered, turning for the door of the meeting room. She tried her best not to break out into a run, but she moved as quick as she possibly could. 

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her retreating form scamper out of the room like a fire was lit under her ass. He turned his head back towards Becky, watching as the crocodile tears streamed down her face. Sure, Jake felt bad her son had cancer, but he’s also been in remission for six weeks now and yet, Becky still comes in to hit on the dads. 

Yes, Jake is well aware that Becky flirts with him at any given chance. And yes, he knows that Y/N is jealous of that. Y/N has always been the type to wear her emotions on her face, and Jake can feel the daggers that she glares into his spine whenever he talks to Becky. He should tell her that there’s nothing to be jealous of, that she’s the only one he wants. But Jake is a guy. And sometimes those male like tendencies take over, especially when it comes to one Y/N Seresin. He never knew she could be so possessive and kinky until about six weeks ago. He swore that they’ve been having the best sex they’ve ever had. 

Y/N had returned by the time the meeting had concluded. Her eyes and nose were red, as if she had been crying. Jake’s green eyes tracked her as she moved around the room, going straight for the coffee pot. All the alarm bells were going off in his head, and his body moved without second thought. She had barely set the coffee pot down when Jake grabbed her elbow, dragging her away. 

“Hey! Let me go!” Y/N protested, pulling her arm free, “You heathen. I can walk on my own-“ 

“Are you pregnant?” 

It took Y/N a moment, as the words that left Jake’s mouth registered in her mind, “No. I’m not pregnant, you twat,” Jake felt the tension in his body relax for a moment, “I know I have gained weight, but I don’t need you pointing that out.” 

“Wait, no,” Jake shook his head, “I wasn’t pointing out that you gained weight, which, you look fantastic,” She scoffed, “It’s just that you’re drinking coffee and you never do unless you’re-” He gestured towards her stomach. 

“I’m not pregnant,” Y/N stated again, shoving the cup in his hand, “I’m going to check on Ella.” 

Y/N tried her best to keep her face neutral until she got into the elevator, her body nearly collapsing against the metal wall. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she reached into her pocket, pulling her phone out and looking at her calendar. The bright red circle around the date was almost mocking her as she breath caught in her throat. 

“No way,” She shook her head, “No fucking way.”

— — — 

“Take a deep breath. You’re okay,” The nurse spoke calmly as she ran her hand over Ella’s back, holding the oxygen mask to her face. It was the third time in the past week that Ella has had these attacks where she can’t breathe. 

“I can’t- I can’t,” Ella gasped, her big green eyes frantically looking around the room.

Y/N quickly moved towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed, “You can. Take a deep breath, Ella.” Ella sucked in as deep of a breath as her little lungs could, which resulted in her coughing. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to hold back tears as her daughter coughed and gasped for air. 

“Y/N,” the nurse said to her, “Why don’t you go get some air. I got this.” 

Every fiber of her being was telling her to stay by Ella’s side, but she couldn’t watch for any longer. Ella looked up at her mom, giving her hand a light squeeze as if to tell her it was alright. The familiar burn of tears clogged her throat as she stood up from the bed. 

“Thank you,” Her voice was barely a whisper as she quickly made her exit out of the room. 

Y/N let out a sigh as she walked down the hallway, clenching and unclenching her shaky fists. The familiar grip of anxiety held her heart as stopped at the nurses’ station, placing her elbows on the counter and running her hands through her hair. Y/N couldn’t decide what was worse, watching her child get so violently ill that the blood vessels in her face broke or watching her gasp for precious air. She determined that both of them sucked. 

“Y/N,” Miles' voice sounded out. She looked up at him, expecting to see that warm, comforting smile, but instead was met with a grim look, “Doctor Thomas and I need to talk to you. . . both of you.” 

Jake had started to hate this office. He hated the bright posters on the wall and the stuffed animals on the couch behind him. As much as this office was trying to be a bright, cheerful place, it brought nothing but heartache and pain. The tension was thick as the two of them were trying to wrap their heads around what Doctor Thomas had just said. Jake’s eyes flitted over to Y/N who was staring at something on the desk in front of her. He so badly wanted to reach out and grab her hand. 

“The transplant list?” Her voice sounded out, sounding weak and farther away than the seat next to him, “She. . . you’re putting her on the transplant list?” 

Miles licked his lips before answering, “We think it’s the best course of action.” 

“What about the lobectomy?”

“The cancer will just come back,” Doctor Thomas said, “The only guaranteed way that the cancer will go away and stay away is if we do this transplant.” 

Y/N shook her head, trying to grasp what was really going on. She had called Jake almost as soon as Miles said he needed to talk to them both. Jake had left base like a bat out of hell, getting to the hospital in an amount of time that could only be done by speeding. They knew that one of the treatment options would have to be removing a portion of Ella’s lung. Y/N hated the idea of her child going under the knife to remove a portion of herself. 

“How long?” Y/N looked up at Miles, “How long do you think she’ll have to wait?” 

Both Miles and Doctor Thomas shifted in their seats. 

“Pediatric lungs are hard to come by,” Doctor Thomas spoke softly, “Finding a match can be even harder. It could be six weeks, could be six months. We don’t-” 

“Oh god,” Y/N closed her eyes, a sick feeling sinking her stomach, “We have to wait for another child to-” 

“Donor,” Doctor Thomas said, “We have to wait for a donor.” 

“A child,” Y/N snapped her eyes open and glared at the blonde woman in front of her, “We have to wait for another child to die to save our child.” 

“Well, if you think about it that-” 

“There is no other way to think about it!” Y/N’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the arms of the chair, “The only way our child can live is if another child dies!” 

Doctor Thomas looked over towards Jake, “I think it’s best if we-” 

“Don’t look at him,” Y/N sneered, “You are talking to me. There has to be another way. There has to be. . . Miles,” Y/N gave him a pleading look. 

“I’m sorry,” Miles said sincerely, “We have discussed this at length, getting second opinions from our pulmonary specialists and transplant specialists, we think this is the best course of action.” 

The office was quiet, as the words seemed to settle over Jake and Y/N. His heart was still pounding in his ears and he wasn’t one hundred percent certain he understood what Miles and Doctor Thomas were saying. He got that Ella was sicker than they thought, and the original plan was no longer going to work. But still, Jake couldn’t really wrap his head around what was going on. 

“I know that this is hard to understand,” Doctor Thomas said, “And you’re having an emotional-” 

“Fuck you,” Y/N spat. Jake snapped his head towards his wife, “Fuck you,” She leaned forward, her eyes burning into Doctor Thomas, “You have no idea what kind of response I am having to hearing my child is dying and the only way to save her is to let another child die. You have no idea ‘cause you aren’t a mother. No,” She chuckled, “You’re just a slut who goes after married men.” 

“Y/N,” Jake finally spoke up. 

Doctor Thomas stood up from her chair. If she was insulted by Y/N’s words, she did a great job at hiding them as she rolled her shoulders back, “I think that is all for today. Miles will keep you updated on Ella’s status on the transplant list. Jake, Y/N,” Doctor Thomas nodded to them both, before she left the room. 

“I’ll let you guys have the room,” Miles said, following after Doctor Thomas. 

Silence reigned over the two of them, as Jake shifted in his chair to face his wife, “I know you’re upset, but that was uncalled for. Calling her a slut?” 

“She is,” Y/N huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face, “We were split up.” 

“We weren’t divorced yet,” She glared at him, “I atleast had the respect to wait until the ink had dried on the papers to go out and find someone. You. . . you were already chasing tail the moment I kicked you out. Hell, before I kicked you out.” 

“Okay,” Jake shook his head, “What is your fucking deal? Hm? This isn’t like you. I thought the group therapy was helping.” 

Y/N sighed, “It is.” And that was true. The group therapy was helping her mood for the most part. 

“Then what is going on?” Jake grabbed her hand, “I want to help you, but I can’t if you don’t tell me.” 

His eyes were full of sincerity and longing as he searched hers for a sign of what could be going on. Y/N used to be such an open book, but now it was getting harder and harder to read her, unless the emotion was anger. He missed the days where she would talk to him about anything and everything. It could be about something that pissed her off or something that made her smile.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as Y/N looked away from her ex. She felt stupid. She felt so incredibly stupid that this happened to her. Of all the times they had tried and tried and failed, this happened when they didn’t even want it to. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, “I’m late.” 

“Late?” Jake asked, confused. All she did was look at him and he realized what she was talking about, “You’re late.” He sat back in his chair, still holding her hand, “You’re late.”

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[thanksforthedinosaur]

june 2024

heartavi - rip it!

nat slater - broken hearts

wilo wilde - searching

natalie red - silence through these walls

kenya grace - strangers

shelhiel - love, repeat

hunnygloss - your heart, my home

willo - i've got a bf (best friend)

crate classics - westside

yazida - lucky girl

pearling - swirly circus girl

machinedrum - u_want

ouri - self control (feat. succi)

cassie marin - cyber solace

crwn - another day (feat. jolianne)

mymy - listen

take van - in and out

douvelle19 - u could be mine

ghostly kisses - beneath the clouds

makina - soulmate

dj-jo - signal - vocal mix

楠木ともり - mayblues

illit - magnetic

blasé - turtle (feat. chung ha)

daoko - onna

wisp x - daffodil

patchymate - bankrupt

owtiss - hidden

2adore - heartlock

channie - after dawn

yomi - be2gether

psych - ur love is too risky

tinashe - nasty

tyla - water

carly gibert - pray

hailey knox - double tragedy - a colors show

fig - the goo

alys - painless

felivand - make myself happy

kamasi washington - get lit

kaiit - space

hyperion the rapper - any means

vince staples - shame on the devil

potsu - fallen

reverie - fire eater

rapsody - 3:am (feat. erykah badu)

childish gambino - little foot big foot (feat. young nudy)

halima - overdue

dua lipa - these walls

troye sivan - honey

heights - summer

brothertiger - the garden

the chainsmokers - bad advice

cxloe - shapeshifter

the blssm - band-aid boy

heather sommer - think about it

unknown venus - dominoes

el momento incómodo - no lo digo muy alto

niina soleil - irish goodbye

cosmo's midnight - eating heartache (feat. spill tab)

remi wolf - alone in miami

santpoort - life moves fast

billie eilish - birds of a feather

zayn - stardust

renforshort - serpentine

sasha alex sloan - cowboys cry

rachel chinouriri - what a devastating turn of events

ian sweet - anthems for a seventeen year‐old girl

mui zyu - the mould

riley whittaker - shadows

ayleen valentine - oxygen thief

homeshake - nothing 2 see

diiv - raining on your pillow

night tapes - drifting

glixen - lust

softcult - shortest fuse

draag - orb weaver

laura jean anderson - always break

karin ann - pile of bones

macseal - golden harbor

into it. over it. - the car’s still running out front

boilermaker - here comes rolling

oceanator - get out

annabel - dog

pedro the lion - spend time

proper. - the 90s

mammoth penguins - nothing and everything

hana vu - alone

superfan - twilight living

snarls - with love

spiderblush - 555

paper ashtray - not me

ivri - sphere of annihilation

daphne gale - cola

ggwendolyn - marty party bailey daydream

b0dies - fraction of time

rainbow frog biscuits - what i need

willow - between i and she

ber - whatever forever

allison ponthier - crash test dummy

bloomsday - object permanence

phoebe go - marmalade

calica - clay

hush kids - think of you

la luz - always in love

simone - linger

abby holliday - the price

luna li - confusion song

jay som - if i could

kahlla - give in

jouska - fragrance (whose rules remix)

crumb - side by side

lightning bug - i feel…

annie-dog - double cherry

ruby waters - sour patch

eden rain - great nothing

ellis - obliterate me

brye - little things

[driftwoodcalliope]

So, not that anyone asked but these are the novels I read this year. If any of these books catch your eye let’s be friends!

(Note: these are not in any order, I kinda just put em into a wanton list without any prior organization)

Violet’s wee reading list of 2022

1. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood - Quentin Tarantino

2. Butter Honey Pig Bread - Francesca Ekwuyasi

3. Autobiography of a Yogi - Paramahansa Yogananda

4. Seize the Day - Saul Bellow

5. Storm of Steel - Ernst Junger

6. Tacky - Rax King

7. Slow Days, Fast Company - Eve Babitz

8. Stoner - John Williams

9. Hard Rain Falling - Don Carpenter

10. Anniversaries - Uwe Johnson

11. Don Quixote de La Mancha - Miguel de Cervantes

12. Killing Commendatore - Haruki Murakami

13. Burning Questions - Margaret Atwood

14. The Counterfieters - André Gide

15. Growth of the Soil - Knut Hamsun

16. The Poems of John Keats - John Keats

17. Ulysses - James Joyce

18. The New York Trilogy - Paul Auster

19. The Complete Stories of Clarice Lispector - Clarice Lispector

20. Quo Vadis - Henry’s Sienkiewicz

20. The Dwelling Place of Light - Winston Churchill (not the former PM)

21. Dharma Bums - Jack Kerouac

22. Dune - Frank Herbert

23. Dune Messiah - Frank Herbert

24. Children of Dune - Frank Herbert

25. God Emperor of Dune - Frank Herbert

26. Heretics of Dune - Frank Herbert

27. Chapter House Dune - Frank Herbert

28. Notes from Underground - Fyodor Dostoevsky

29. The Double - Fyodor Dostoevsky

30. Moby Dick - Herman Melville

31. Middlemarch - George Eliot

32. The Complete Stories of Jorge Luis Borges - Jorge Luis Borges

33. The Collins Complete Shakespeare - William Shakespeare

34. The Banjo: A History - Laurent DuBois

35. House of Leaves - Mark Z Danielewski

36. Sérotonin - Michel Houellebecq

37. Pamela - Samuel Richardson

38. The Confusions of Young Törless - Robert Musil

39. The Little Friend - Donna Tartt

40. My Struggle I: A Death in the Family - Karl Ove Knausgaard

42. My Struggle II: A Man in Love - Karl Ove Knausgaard

43. My Struggle III: Boyhood Island - Karl Ove Knausgaard

44. My Struggle IV: Dancing in the Dark - Karl Ove Knausgaard

45. My Struggle V: Some Rain Must Fall - Karl Ove Knausgaard

46. My Struggle VI: The End - Karl Ove Knausgaard

47. The Idiot - Fyodor Dostoevsky

48. The Pickwick Papers - Charles Dickens

49. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

50. Bleak House - Charles Dickens

51. The Old Curiosity Shop - Charles Dickens

52. Nicholas Nickelby - Charles Dickens

53. Roots - Alex Haley

54. Silas Marner - George Eliot

55. Scenes of Clerical Life - George Eliot

56. Slouching Towards Bethlehem - Joan Didion

57. Iron Widow - Xiran Jay Zhao

58. Babel - R. F. Kuang

59. The Complete Father Brown Stories - G. K. Chesterton

60. Death Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases - Nissoisin

61. The Blind Assassin - Margaret Atwood

62. The Song of Roland - Anon.

63. The Nibelungenlied - Anon.

64. Le Morte D’Arthur - Sir Thomas Malory

65. The Lais of Marie de France - Marie de France

66a. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (penguin tran.) - Anon. (The Pearl Poet)

66b. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (Tolkien tran.) - Anon. (The Pearl Poet)

67. The Pearl (Tolkien tran.) - Anon. (The Pearl Poet)

68. Les Fleurs de Mal - Charles Baudelaire

69. Faust - Goethe

70. Forrest Gump - Winston Groom

71. The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini - Benvenuto Cellini

72. Here There Be Dragons - James A. Owen

73. The Decameron - Giovanni Boccaccio

74. The Island - Alastair MacLeod

75. The Maltese Falcon - Dashiell Hammett

76. White Teeth - Zadie Smith

77. Beautiful Losers - Leonard Cohen

78. Take Arms Against a Sea of Troubles - Harold Bloom

79. A Song for Arbonne - Guy Gavriel Kay

80. Harlem Shuffle - Colson Whitehead

81. The Interview With the Vampire - Anne Rice

82. The Vampire LeStat - Anne Rice

83. The Big Sleep - Raymond Chandler

84. Vile Bodies - Evelyn Waugh

85. Decline and Fall - Evelyn Waugh

86. Thus Were Their Faces - Silvina Ocampo

87. The Hellbound Heart - Clive Barker

88. The Collected Works of Breece D’J Pancake - Breece Pancake

89. Ben-Hur: The Story of a Christ - Lew Wallace

90. Open City - Teju Cole

91. Goodbye to Berlin - Christopher Isherwood

92. The Aeneid - Virgil

93. Emma - Jane Austen

94. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

95. Persuasion - Jane Austen

96. The Portable Sixties Reader - Various, compiled by Ann Charters

97. The Innocents - Michael Crummey

98. Crossroads - Jonathan Franzen

99. The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling - Henry Fielding

100. The Pilgrim’s Progress - John Bunyan

[readingforsanity]

Don't You Cry | Mary Kubica | Published 2016

In downtown CHicago, Esther Vaughan disappears from her apartment without a trace. A haunting letter addressed to My Dearest is found among her possessions, leaving her roommate Quinn Collins to question how well she really knew her friend. Meanwhile, in a small town an hour outside Chicago, a mysterious woman appears in the quiet coffee shop where 18-year-old Alex Gallo works as a dishwasher. He is immediately drawn to her, but what starts as an innocent crush quickly spirals into something far more sinister.

As Quinn searches for answers about Esther, and Alex is drawn further under the stranger's spell, master of suspense Mary Kubica takes readers on a taut and twisted thrill ride that builds to a stunning conclusion and shows that no matter how fast and far we run, the past always catches up with us.

After a night of debauchery, Quinn is unnerved to learn that her roommate isn't home. While this in itself isn't the weird part, but she begins finding evidence that her disappearance is anything innocent. Letters are found, sent from Esther to someone named only as My Dearest, insinuating a love affair gone wrong; a legal name change for Esther, now Jane Girard, is also a disturbing fact for Quinn to have notated.

But, still, even with these strange facts set before her, she does everything that she can to figure out what happened to her best friend, with the help of her co-worker and friend, Ben. The police are contacted and a missing persons report is filed. But, Quinn quickly becomes unnerved by everything going on.

She learns that Esther's previous roommate, Kelsey Bellamy, had died, having suffered from anaphylatic shock after eating peanuts in a dish that Esther had made. It was ruled an accident, but Quinn is under the impression that Esther had ended her former roommates life on purpose, not bothering to use her EpiPen that was stored inside her purse but was mysteriously missing.

70 miles away from Chicago, where Quinn is, is 18-year-old Alex Gallo. A boy from a broken home whose mother left him when he was a young boy and he now being forced to live and care for his alcoholic father, he quickly becomes enamored by the stranger that begins appearing in the cafe where he works.

Under the impression that this lovely stranger is watching the home of the psychologist across the street, the two of them strike up a friendship. Alex later learns that she has been squatting in the abandoned home across the street from his, she having been sending him signals through the outside lights, leading him and his father to believe that vagrants had been living within.

The two of them have a shared bond over abandonment: Pearl, the nickname Alex had given her based off the fake pearl bracelet she wears upon her wrist, had been given up for adoption when she was a child and remembers everything about it; Alex, his own mother running off after not wanting to be a mother any longer. Alex shares the local ghost story, which in part, takes place within the very house she is squatting in.

Rumor goes that the ghost of a young, 5 year old girl named Genevieve haunts the halls around them, calling out for her mother, after she had drowned in a bathtub inside of a hotel room while her mother was attending to her younger sister, who had fallen from the bed and injured herself, causing the mother to not realize that her older child had slipped under the water to her death.

The two of them mostly giggle over this story, but in truth, the young girl was once a real person. Alex takes Pearl to visit her grave, and while it is disturbing, the two of them continue to bond. But, Alex begins to wonder about this beautiful stranger after he sees her comforting an old baby doll in what was once the young girl's bedroom, humming a lullaby and eventually, Pearl leading him to the old cemetery where Genevieve's grave is located, digging into the earth and exhuming the wooden box in which the body lays, only to learn that the coffin is empty.

Back in Chicago, Quinn gets her hands on Esther's missing purse after a concerned citizen had found it in a dumpster in a neighboring block. Inside, Quinn remembers the storage unit in which Esther kept more of her personal belongings. Rushing off to the location of the storage unit, Quinn is horrified to find that Esther has been inside of the storage unit this entire time.

Back in Michigan, Alex learns the truth about the family that had once lived in the home across from his: it used to belong to the Vaughan family, and Ingrid, the agorphobic woman who lives in the cottage across from the cafe that Alex occasionally spent time with, was Genevieve's mother.

He rushes to her home to warn her that it appears that someone is after her, but it is too late. After failing to shut and deadbolt the door to Ingrid's home, Genevieve enters, looking eerily like the younger sister that she had lost all those years ago: Esther.

Genevieve is upset about what happened, but Ingrid explains that she felt like she had no other choice, that back in those days, having a distubed child didn't mean anything like it does today, that help wasn't readily available. Ingrid quickly became concerned over Esther's wellbeing, after having found Genevieve attempting to smother her with a pillow, along with other rumors that she heard from teachers and other parents.

Genevieve doesn't care, and is equally disturbed that her mother didn't at least try, but Ingrid assures her that she did. The two of them quickly begin to fight, and Alex, despite having attempted to help the situation, ends up being fatally injured in the fight, having given his life in order to save Ingrid's, finally having done something with his life that he never thought possible.

Back in Chicago, despite having been unfed and unsure of her fate for the last 5 days, Esther is okay, though extremely traumatized. She explains that Quinn was the best roommate, and that she had placed an ad in the paper for her to have someone after Esther attempted to get away, knowing that her sister would be coming after her, and she didn't want any harm to come to Quinn.

In the end, in seems the two friends are doing everything they can in order to come back together.

[bianxiousandcute]

Fanfics Masterlist

2gether

Kiss on the lips(Sarawat x Tine)

Look...it’s not that Sarawat hated parties...well...okay, he didn’t really like them, he would rather go to a bar where they would be able to talk and maybe listen to some live music. But what really made him hate going to parties was that at every party that Tine was at was basically torture to Sarawat. Why he had to fall for his straight friend? Not only that but the one who got the most girls, every party Tine had a pretty girl drooling over him.

Mamma Mia! 2gether

Tine lives in Kalokairi for at least 20 years, he has a charming hotel, his loving daughter Pearl, friends, and his brother that are always there for him but his heart has been broken too many times and he has given up love. Pearl is about to become 15 years old and after she found an old diary filled with stories of three past lovers that her dad seemed to have a special connection with she decides to invite the three of them to come to the island in hopes that her father finds love again!

The Only Exception (Man x Type)

Type was never the trustful type, but after his last break up the walls he had around his heart grew bigger and thicker. Still part of him wants to trust people and be hopelessly romantic, but he can't do it by himself, and that's when a handsome stranger that just keeps appearing comes in.

Cherry Magic

I wish I was her... (Kurosawa x Adachi)

Kurosawa has an enormous crush on his best friend Adachi, but he seems to like their other friend Fujisaki, well at least that's what Kurosawa thinks.

Bad Buddy

Traitor (Ink x Pa)

Ink thinks the universe must hate her. Not only has she fallen in love with her straight best friend, but that straight friend, Pa, is dating the most annoying guy on the planet, Wai. She tries not to hate him, He is Pran’s friend so he mustn’t be a bad person, she tries, but how can she not hate him, he is with the girl she likes, the girl that will never like her back.

Six of Crows

The Crows (Inej x Kaz, Matthias x Nina, Jesper x Wylan)

Balancing a band and college classes isn't easy, add to that some trauma and drama it gets even harder. This Band tho won't let that take them down easy, as they say, no mourners no funerals.

Ladies and gentlemen, The Crows!

Red, White and Royal Blue

Blind dates (Alex x Henry)

Alex hated blind dates, he thought it was a thing for desperate people looking for love, but he had to admit, he was desperate. Alex sighed drinking his water while looking around the bar, Nora said his blind date would be late and that didn’t help his nerves at all, God why am I here? Why can’t my feelings just go away…I’m really not thinking straight he chuckled at his bad joke, if it wasn’t for his stupidly handsome roommate he wouldn’t have to be there, on a fucking blind date, he sighed, the thing is Alex realized not so long ago that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, and his feelings for his roommate are ruining his life.

Our Dining Table

Put your head on my shoulder... (Yutaka x Minoru)

It was a normal Saturday evening in the Ueda household. Tane was fast asleep, and Ueda-San was out with friends, so all that was left was Minoru and Yutaka awake, drinking and talking with a small radio playing random songs in a low volume.

Formula 1

What happens in Vegas... (Charles Leclerc x Max Verstappen)

Charles remembers the previous night in flashes.

He had won the race, and he and many others were at a club commemorating his victory. He remembers dancing, people patting him on the back, a lot of champagne and tequila shots, and that’s when things start to blur. He remembers Max laughing in his ear as they held each other up while walking somewhere, sloppy kisses on a cold night and his back hitting a wall making him giggle into a kiss, his last memory is feeling happy and a chaste kiss while he hears clapping.

[heresathreebee]

Bloody Mess

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

AN: ok 1st of all this got Nasty and also I wanted to try a different format

Warning(s): +17 | Hemophilia, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), mentions of abuse, dead body (he deserved it), little rough, sub!Ralph Lamont, cum eating, hair pulling. Masterlist

Alright so I was dragging my feet to watch the episode of Blue Bloods with Alex Brightman in it and I'm glad I did because I got some cool ideas. I don't watch cop centric shows anymore but I thought Ralph would be a cool Italian mob type: turns out he's some dickhead twitch gamer who murdered a girl for stupid reasons I can't remember. 

So fuck cannon, he's a 90's mobman now. 

**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

Imagine Ralph Lamont is a one man clean up crew. He's the go-to guy for any jobs gone wrong, gone messy. Body needs disappearing without a trace? Ralphie's your guy. 

Kinda like The Wolf from Pulp Fiction (Tarentino, 1994) 

Hydrochloric acid, latex, bleach, bone saw: all he needs is a few hours and it's like there was never a brutal murder here. (Sometimes this is accomplished with a distraction, a staged robbery or shoot out a few counties over if there were too many witnesses)

So Mr. Clean I mean Mr. Lamont gets a job at your home. 

It's a cute little 3rd floor apartment with a Mr. and Mrs. Andersen living in it. 

Mr. Andersen is– pardon, was– a bookkeeper for Dr. Coolidge (friend of Ralphie's; they both like sterile environments), so it's a favor. Dr. Coolidge mentioned over the phone he expected something "like this" to happen sooner or later. He asked Ralphie to be delicate with you– the late Mrs. Andersen. 

You buzz him in without a word. 

He finds you leaning against the kitchen island, putting out the cherry of your cigarette. You put it out right on Mr. Andersen's ugly yellow tie (or he thinks it used to be yellow)

It's a fucking blood bath in here. Mr. Andersen was a bleeder. Red splashes and streaks cover the counters, the toaster, the oven door, the fridge. There are bloody footprints on the floor and an honest-to-go pool of it dripping off the counter right next to Andersen's final resting place. You left the steak knife in his throat and he must have sat down in that island chair never to get back up again. His eyes are listless and grey. 

Ralphie walks around you, careful to keep you in his peripheral just in case you weren't done "expressing yourself." The linen of your frock is stained, your feet are bare, and your eye is black and swollen. Some of your bruises are old. 

In his sweep, he finds three bloodied knives in the sink: a bread knife, a fillet knife, and a cleaver. 

"Mrs. Andersen," he says as he turns back to you, "if you wouldn't mind moving to the bedroom for me? You've made quite a mess and I'd hate for you to have to see anymore violence." 

"You gonna fight him for my honor? He's already dead." 

Ralphie chuckles. "No ma'am. I'm gonna cut him up into pieces so the gallons of acid I brought with me dissolve his corpse efficiently. I'll need to borrow your bathtub for that, and you don't want to try getting cleaned up after the fact. It's no good for the skin." 

He's circled around the white marble kitchen island to stand before you. He's calm. The smile on his face is easy and it soothes you. You drop your eyes and catch an unexpected sight. 

"Are you…" you wipe at your mouth a accidentally leave a crusted red streak. "Do you get off on this?" 

Mr. Lamont shifts his stance; no doubt you've seen the light tent in his pants. "What can I say except I admire your handiwork, Mrs. Andersen. I imagine you may have wanted him to die slowly and painfully. Was it all that you hoped for?" 

You turn sheepish (incredible, really, surrounded by such admirable evidence of your own rage) and nod. "It was…" 

"Glad to hear," he says softly. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..." 

He places a gentle hand on your shoulder but you step away from the island and change his distant, guiding gesture into an intimate embrace. He looks at you in surprise when he feels you wrap your hands around his back beneath his blazer. 

"I seem to suffer a similar affliction," you tell him and press yourself into his erection. "You wouldn't mind giving a girl a hand, would you?" 

Well it certainly wasn't part of the job, but he was eager to please. 

“As you like it,” he whispered, pulling you into a soft kiss. 

Your blood sings in your veins. You’ve just killed your no good louse of a husband and now you’ve got your tongue down a stranger’s throat. And a handsome one too, so polite (you were still wary of him but if Dr. Coolidge sent him perhaps he couldn’t be all bad)

You tug at his tie as if it would make him any closer to being inside of you. The smell of copper is a never ending assault on your senses, but you also smell wood smoke beneath it on his collar. 

Mr. Lamont’s cheeky hands find your hips and a second later he’s helping you sit up on the kitchen counter. You can see your husband from the corner of your eye, his mouth hanging open in eternal anguish. It just serves to intensify your lust for life. 

You give Mr. Lamont's belt a meaningful tug and slip back down to the floor to turn around

You mean to ask him to help you with your zipper, but instead you feel his lips at your neck just before his hand grips the back of your head and pushes you down, face first into the counter inches away from the pool of blood. 

Your hand slides through the sticky essence and you feel Lamont draw your skirts up and your underthings down. 

You gasp with a shriek as you feel something hot slide up your slit and over your other hole. Did he just lick you??? 

The living man growls in what sounds like pleasure, pulling at his sleek tie just enough to loosen the constriction at his throat and then he’s shucking his pants down. 

You’re not sure if you want him to work you up slowly or take what he wants but you hold your breath and let him lead. You’re far from disappointed when he massages the meat of your rear and leans over your back. 

“You can still change your mind, doll,” he whispers, “not too late to go shower and forget today.” 

You consider it but you don’t want to forget. You want the feeling of Georgie’s life slipping through your fingers to soothe you to sleep every night. You want to carry the pleasure of giving your former husband a reason for his rampant jealous streak and know that for once there was nothing he could do about it. You want this living man to make this strange and terrifying day to end in bliss and solidify everything like lightning striking sand.  

You lift your head and run your dripping red hand through his pristine locks. He locks eyes with you and a shiver runs through him as a droplet lands on his nose. “I don’t want to stop, Mr. Lamont. Now be a good guest and fuck me.” 

“Call me Ralphie please,” he breathes, and he’s all too happy to comply. You feel his cock slip between your folds and as he enters you as he promised, you lick your lips and taste cherry and rust. 

“Ralphie… Ralphie…” He loves the sound of his name on your lips, the squishing sound of your lovely womanhood taking everything he gives it. He puts a single hand on your hip leans back to take it all in: the bloody kitchen, the stiff, the lecherous moans, the sweat making his shirt stick to his back, the misleading cleanliness of the back of your dress…

Mr. Lamont runs his hand through the slime in his hair but that blood is already drying. He splashes it into the pool next to you and leaves a bloody print on your back, holding you down to the counter by your shoulder and driving his hips into you harder. 

He can hear you’re close by the crescendo of your voice. He’s close too, and ever the gentleman, he slips out of you and flips you onto your back, pulling up a dainty leg in your daze so he can re enter your heat like he belonged there. He’s resumed fucking you in mere seconds and he likes this position because now he can see your eyes roll back into your head. 

“Where do you want it,” he grunts out. He’s trying not to come but he doesn’t have the willpower to slow down. He needs your answer, and fast...

For a moment your eyes go hard. Mr. Lamont gulps and worries for a second you’re going to pull the steak knife out of your husband’s throat to slit his, but instead you take a hold of his hair and pull his head back into an awkward but commanding angle. 

He feels your breath ghost over his neck. “My house, my rules. Make me see stars and I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

You sink your teeth into his neck and reach down to circle your pearl. Mr. Lamont does as he’s told, hissing and grunting but he holds off his release to give you exactly what you want. 

He has to stop thrusting when you start those delicious rhythmic tremors. He has to hold you up as you throw your head back and lose your balance, dependent on him to keep you upright. He takes over rubbing your pearl with a similar pressure as the one he watched you give yourself, and eased you back down from heaven into the bloody abyss on earth. 

For a second Ralph fears you’ve got too much control. What will he do if you tell him not to come at all? He’ll do as you command, of course, but how cruel were you going to treat him now that you’ve gotten what you wanted? He’s seen your handiwork all around, remember that. 

But your eyes turn soft and he’s worried you’re about to cry, that is until he watches you slip down to your bruised knees and ease your dress down your shoulders. Now you look positively debauched, breast bared and eyes turned up with a pleading look. 

“Finish on me, Ralphie.” You bit your lip and hope to god he’s still listening. “Right over my heart.” 

Ralph Lamont has never whimpered before. He’s doing it right now. How the fuck did he end up like this? 

He strokes his cooling cock, taking everything in from his position above you and feeling his drumming heartbeat in the throbbing of his member. The only word going through his head is yes

Ralphie gives one of you tits a squeeze, then gets an idea

It's a little awkward trying to get you to understand, but you catch on and there's this eager glow in your eyes

You help him slot his cock between your breasts and continue to jerk him off, using your hands as necessary to assist

He's not far now seeing you-- feeling you like that

Ralphie comes with a groan, a white rope painting your chin and splattering cockeyed down over your neck and onto the tops of your breasts. He has to catch himself on the counter as the next rope dribbles lower, half slipping into your cleavage and the rest staining the neckline of your ruined dress. His hips jerk once, twice. You let him slip from your embrace and twist your hand over the head just to milk whatever he has left into your mouth, and then he collapses into a heap beside you. 

You let him catch his breath for a minute, then grasp his jaw and turn his head towards you. You’re looking down your nose at him again and his vulnerable eyes beg for more. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” you gesture to the milky essence covering your skin in mock annoyance. “Clean it up like a good boy.” 

Eyes half lidded, Ralphie leans towards you in a trance, tongue swiping over every pearlescent trail and stray droplet until you’re ‘clean’ again

Completely spent, the man rests his head against your shoulder. Your hands come up to cradle him, stroking his matted hair as if you've not a care in the world

When he's ready he helps you stand up and straightens his clothes

Instead of helping you back into yours he strips you of them

"These will have to be burned, I'm afraid," he tells you. "Go on now, take a nice long bath and I'll call Kevin to see if he can take you somewhere for the night

You have to clear the tub and run it again to get truly clean. All of that grime builds up thick on your skin while you were having your acts of catharsis. 

You slip into a satin frock in your favorite color and let Kevin whisk you away to a movie for the night

As you fix your earring in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of Ralph Lamont on your balcony. He waves down at you leaning against the ledge and unbothered by the state of his clothes. From this far down, it doesn't look like blood

But you know better, don't you?

@hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 4 - Favors

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, will he make it?, 2.5k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes me these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Willie’s hands were red and wrinkly from all the dishwashing. The industrial washer was hot and the smell was gag-inducing but somehow after some time he could manage not to notice it. Glancing at the clock, he sighed heavily. It was 7:40. Alex was going to be on stage soon and he wasn’t even off his shift. He’d had a feeling that was going to happen though. Even if it was foolish to hope, he’d been the fool anyway.

Business had sure picked up from the lull that morning, but thankfully he wasn’t bussing tables. He rarely had to be a waiter, and the main reason he’d gone out there earlier was because there were four attractive boys and no one else and he wasn’t missing a chance to pick up on one of them. Willie hadn’t imagined Alex to be so disarming, not to mention that the chances of seeing him again had seemed impossible.

Finally, the next shift came into the kitchen and he could set his last load on a drying rack. His apron was off and hung and he was headed out the door so quickly that he didn’t see Caleb coming into the kitchen.

“In a rush, William?” the man said in his usual austere manner.

Willie paused in his tracks and looked back at him like a deer in the headlights.

“Ah...yeah, I just....have some errands to run,” he tried to smile casually, but he was no good at lying. It seemed silly that he felt he had to make an excuse, but he was never sure if Caleb was going to demand something more out of him.

“Well, they seem pretty important,” Caleb said, patting his shoulder and peering down at him. Willie could sense the height difference between them. “Better get them done.”

Before he could seize up completely from the intimidation, Willie grabbed his board and helmet and stuffed the cash from his tips into his back pocket. He never adhered to the curfew Caleb gave him, no matter how he got punished for it later. Stepping into the night air and kicking off on his board, a monolithic weight floated away from his shoulders. The breeze was life flowing across his face and through his clothing, hair whipping around behind him.

“Whooooo!” he cried, echoing through the street.

This was what he lived for - the simplicity of him against everything else. His hands were getting the brunt of the wind chill, since he hadn’t let them dry completely before heading out, but it was refreshing.

Willie had learned a lot of shortcuts in the city and if he moved fast enough he would just barely get himself to the show on time. Skating through alleyways and low-traffic streets, he weaved through the Las Vegas nightlife with almost no effort. The lights at this angle were nothing but blurs. His ears still burned to know what Alex had been about to say when he’d mentioned showing him a better view. The thought of them perched above the rest of the city, watching the lights flash and twinkle below - 

A car honked loudly at him as it screeched to a stop, narrowly missing him as he crossed the street. Willie tripped over his board and only just managed to stay on his feet as he held his hands up defensively.

“Sorry!” He called to the driver.

“Use the crosswalk!” they yelled without even rolling down their window.

 He collected his board and ran to the opposite side before he could see their angry mug flipping him off. Once he was safe, he checked over his shoulder and his hands went to feel his helmet. It was on, thank goodness. 

“Use the crosswalk…” he muttered in a mocking manner, laughing it off. Huffing as he mounted his board again, he continued on his way to Alex’s concert.

Just a few blocks later he was at the entrance to the Pearl and looked on at the closed doors. His heart sank slowly as he approached them, pulling on the handles and finding them locked. It couldn’t be too long after eight, right? He peeked inside the windows, hoping to find anyone near the entrance. Nobody was visible. Banging the door a couple times, he waited to see if anyone came.

“Hello?” he shouted, getting no better view through the windows than before. “Heeyyy!”

He saw a security guard round a corner and ditched immediately into the side alley. Willie didn’t own a watch so he had no idea how late he was. He leaned against the wall and sighed deeply, wishing his heartbeat would settle. The taunting thought came that oh well, it wasn’t meant to work out, he’s just some guy in a band. Feeling his fist clench the moment those words crossed his mind, he hit it against the wall and grunted in frustration.

That feeling was wrong, and he knew it was because he had felt something bigger than that. He’d seen Alex’s face and the calm adoration that reflected in his eyes. Willie couldn’t recall feeling more alive and more at home than in those moments. He sat against the wall, leaning his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. There had to be a way to get into the show. Alex had to know that he’d tried, at the very least.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but the more time passed the more he knew he was just missing the best night of his life. Nothing helpful was coming to him either and he had half a mind to just go back to the bodega and cuddle Sheldon. His finger ran over the sore on his hand that Alex had so tenderly bandaged. He’d had to remove the band-aids while he was washing dishes - the sting was another thing he’d tuned out while working. A door at the side of the building opened and the alley was momentarily flooded with yellow light.

“Jules!” he heard a girl with long braids saying to another girl in an edgy, glamorous dress who was extremely upset.

“Flynn, I’m trying so hard, but I don’t know if I can be my best on stage tonight. I should be there with her!” The other girl said. Willie shrank into the shadows, not wanting to invade on privacy but also not wanting to be caught.

“She knows you would be there if you could! There’s still time and I know that she would be proud of you for killing it up there. Just hear me out, Julie.”

Julie. Willie was trying to remember why that name was significant.

She sighed and crossed her arms. “Say it, because I know I can’t stop you.”

“Okay,” Flynn started. “Your mom got you into music. She gave you a gift! She shared what she loved with you and she didn’t do it so you could drop it when things got tough.”

“Let me guess,” Julie said with a hint of skepticism. “She would want me to keep sharing it?”

“Look at my smart girl,” Flynn said with warm pride. She held out her arms to give her friend a hug.

Julie. Julie. It finally clicked in Willie’s mind. He stood up and stepped into their view, causing them to break apart from their touching moment. Flynn moved protectively in front of her friend.

“Who are you?” she asked, a fierce expression aimed in his direction. Willie raised his hands and slowly approached.

“I don’t mean to butt in,” he said carefully.

“Oh, really? Cuz you just did and we’re kind of in the middle of something personal.” Flynn clearly was down to fight. He moved closer and she blocked him. “You’re gonna have to get through me, skater boy.”

He looked over her shoulder to see the other girl.

“Are you Julie Molina?”

Flynn continued to step between him and Julie, and folded her arms.

“Who’s asking?” she said defiantly.

“I’m Willie,” he said, stopping so Flynn would quit blocking him. He looked at Julie. “First, I’m sorry you can’t be with your mom. It sounds like she isn’t okay and that really sucks.” The girls shared a glance full of pity. “Also, sorry for asking, but do you know Alex?”

Julie came forward and put a hand on Flynn’s shoulder, giving her a look that made her friend drop the mama bear attitude.

“Yeah, I do,” she said hesitantly.

“Uh…” Willie started awkwardly. “Well, he told me to come tonight and it looks like I missed my chance. I just wanted him to know I didn’t forget.”

Flynn raised an eyebrow but Julie shrugged at it.

“You know he’s playing right now,” she told him.

Willie nodded, looking down at the ground. That wasn’t a reminder he really needed. Flynn studied him for a few seconds and then raised a finger, furrowing her brow.

“Are you the guy Alex was talking about earlier?”

He looked slightly flabbergasted.

“Who was he talking about earlier?”

“Oh, just some skater with a cat in a sandwich shop,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm. “We got him to confess.” She gave Julie a smug look.

Willie couldn’t help smiling.

“Yep, it’s him.” Flynn smirked.

Julie looked at him thoughtfully for a minute.

“You know what?” she began. “I don’t usually do this, but I’m gonna do this.” She went to the door again.

“Does this mean you’re good about going on tonight?” Flynn asked.

“Yeah,” Julie said. “You were right. My mom would want me there. And she would also want me to do favors once in a while.” She gave a pointed look at Willie as she pulled the door open. Flynn got an excited look on her face, grabbed Willie’s wrist, and started pulling him inside.

“Sorry about coming off the wrong way,” she said back to him. “Are we good?”

“You bet we’re good,” he replied, not sure how he’d gotten this far, but happy nonetheless. They moved through storage rooms full of props and costumes from other theatrical shows being held at the venue. Faint rock music echoed from above.

“Okay people, Julie and Flynn plus one coming through!” Flynn called as they passed various members of the tech crew. She let go of Willie’s wrist so he could properly hold his board as he followed them. First, they met a man with short gray hair who approached Julie with concern.

“Estás bien mija?” he asked, holding his arms out slightly to invite a hug if she needed one. Julie accepted it, but it was only a quick one.

“I’ll be okay, dad,” she said reassuringly. “At least for tonight, I will.”

Her dad patted her on the back as he nodded toward Willie.

“Who’s this?”

Julie raised her eyebrows awkwardly.

“Uhhhhhh this is my new friend! My new friend....” she eyed him to provide his name, having clearly forgotten.

“Willie,” he followed, holding out a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Willie, I’m Ray,” her dad said, taking his hand. He didn’t seem to question that Julie had picked up a new friend for a moment. “Well, I’m going to head to my seat with Carlos. You’re gonna do great out there, mija.” He blew her a kiss as he walked off.

They could all hear the crowd screaming. Sunset Curve had finished their set and by the sound of footsteps, were all headed backstage. Willie had a mix of disappointment that he didn’t actually get to see them play, but it paled next to his excitement to see Alex.

Flynn grabbed Willie’s wrist again, leading him to one of the dressing rooms. She knocked lightly, and a voice was heard saying “come in”. She simply opened the door and pushed Willie inside.

“This belongs to you!” she said, giving Willie a double thumbs up before dashing off with a devilish smile on her face. As Willie stumbled forward, Alex turned around from wiping his face in the mirror. His eyes went wide in surprise as he dropped the towel he was holding.

“How did you - how…?” Alex was lost for words, but his smile grew.

Willie shrugged charismatically and jutted his thumb back toward where Flynn had been, clicking his teeth.

“I have my ways,” he said smoothly, dropping his board on the floor and making his way over to Alex.

“Sorry I’m all sweaty,” Alex said sheepishly, pulling his chair up, sitting on it backwards and facing Willie.

“Don’t worry about it,” Willie said, sitting cross-legged on the end of an ottoman, aware that if he moved too close their knees would touch. “I’m sorry I just missed seeing you guys play.”

“Oh, well,” Alex flailed his hands awkwardly. “I mean, that is a bummer, but I’m not mad about it.”

Willie just looked on fondly. Alex was so uncomplicated compared to everything else, and it made him all but go dizzy.

“Julie’s going to be on pretty soon,” Alex was saying. “You could join me and the guys to watch her. We won’t be doing anything fun after, though, because her mom isn’t doing well and we have a long drive home tomorrow.” He stopped there, and they both sat not thinking about how tomorrow would come and put a distance between them. Willie hadn’t even known him for twenty-four hours and that inevitable separation felt...wrong.

“Before we go up, then, I have a question,” Wille said.

Alex looked at him with expecting eyes. Willie looked back into them, smiling.

“What were you going to say this morning, about the lights in the city?”

Blinking, Alex took a minute to recollect what Willie was referring to. He gave a big nod when it finally came to him.

“Right. You were saying that I needed to see them at the right angle and that you would show me if I weren’t already busy.” He paused and stared at the floor for a few seconds. When he looked up he asked, “Was that an invitation?”

“It is now,” Willie responded.

Reggie poked his head in the door.

“Alex, we’re heading up to watch Julie, you coming?” he said. Then he pointed at Willie with a goofy smile. “Hey, buddy! Good to see you!” Bobby was peeking in over his shoulder, and the smug look on his face made Alex turn red.

“Yep,” Alex said matter-of-factly, a goofy expression on his face. “We - ” He glanced over at Willie, surprised to refer to the two of them as ‘we’. “We’re coming.”

Reggie and Bobby disappeared as Alex glanced at the clock on the wall. Willie put a hand on his back and rubbed slightly, feeling his nerves extending into the entire room. Taking in a deep breath, Alex simply gave him an appreciative look and stood up.

“Come on, let’s get up there,” he said in a breathy tone.

Willie smiled wide. Leaving his board and his helmet behind, he followed Alex out to their seats, ready to watch the girl who’d helped him get to this point put on a stunning performance.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 16

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N:  hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - I’ll spank you, angel. - he muttered with a rather raspy and low voice in her pearl adorned ear. Immediately, Y/N could feel the familiar heat that always lingered around whenever the mob boss was present and cleared her throat, holding one of the champagne glass scattered around the table to have it do something instead of just saying on the table again for no reason, blushing like an idiot. 

Before she could even question him about his words, a waitress approached, a rather attractive one dressed in a tight white dress reminiscent of the one Cher wore in Clueless, and whispered something against his ear. Whatever it was, it caused him to join the other associates rather fast, leaving Y/N in the table with minor associates, their wives and partners. 

I don’t belong here, she thought to herself. It was a rather stark contrast to look at the table filled with men dressed in polished suits expensive enough to pay the downpayment on a small house and women dressed in tight equally expensive red, black and emerald green dresses and then look at the handmaid in a hand down rather flowy old white dress with small flowers. She looked adorably out of place as she took several sips from the sparkling water glass Sebastian had ordered for her. 

   - Aren’t you view for sore eyes? - she turned her head slightly towards where the voice went before she sighed. Mr. Williams. 

Y/N didn’t really enjoy his presence which rather concerned her. He had done nothing to make her be suspicious of him and most of the prejudice she knew towards him had come from both Gwen and Sebastian. Sure, he had asked her to speak with Sebastian about being less abrasive back in Paris but someone who was in danger would beg for their life anyway. Despite all of that, she just felt a somber atmosphere settling in whenever he was around. 

He took a seat where Sebastian was once sat, grabbing one of the champagne glass and raising it up almost as if he was saluting the handmaid to which Y/N responded with a lower raise.

  - I don’t see Miss Forrest anywhere. 

  - Oh ... she wasn’t feeling very well. - Y/N softly smiled, taking another sip from her glass.  

  - Well, Mr. Stan does look rather prideful of showing you off. I must say, if I had you as an accessory on my arm, I would also be that prideful. - his fingers reached over to her chin, pushing it slightly down. - You have some very familiar eyes, I can’t point where I’ve seen them before.

  - Oh ... - Y/N looked around wondering if any of the people are the table would come to her defence but none did. She wasn’t his wife or his partner, they mostly thought she was a upper ranking mistress and by so, she deserved no protection or words from them, leaving Y/N to protect her own self. - Eyes aren’t that specific to one person, more than one individual can have equal ones.

  - Not yours, my darling. They’re laced with gold. 

  - Well ... thank you very much but ... - she looked around wondering if there was anywhere for her to go. Surely Sebastian wouldn’t spank her, he was just trying to scare her. Spanking was for children and the BDSDM ridden books, he wouldn’t spank her. - I must go.

Y/N abruptly pushed her chair away from the table with her feet, getting away from the table before he could touch her face again. The music was slightly more subdued and mostly came from the girly noises of the barely dressed women singing show tunes from the golden age of theatre, which made the environment much more inviting for exploring. She moved through the crowd of tables of men hollering at the stage girls before she reached a little black door in the back. Looking around, she opened the door which seemed to lead even more into the back of the cabaret. She wandered around in the dark until she found another door but this one led to a flight of stairs. It was either that or return to the table and be questioned by Mr. Williams. With that in mind, Y/N climbed the stairs which led to another door that opened to the outside.

The cold air hit her exposed skin as she moved to the railing, eyes on the horizon of the never sleeping city. The upper east was Y/N’s favourite spot to be during the night, the city just seemed to light up yet she wasn’t the biggest fan of the noise. Like Ariel exploring the human world, she perched herself on the railing, letting herself get lost in her own thoughts.

   - Hey, you, you can’t be here. - her thoughts were interrupted by a man grabbing her by the arm. - The show girls are in the backstage.

   - Oh, I’m not a showgirl. - she spoke up to who she thought was one of the guards. - I’m here with Mr. Stan.

   - You? - he investigated her from head to toe and toe to head, before his eyes settled on her. - Great joke, sweetheart. You have a show to put on. 

  - Unhand the girl, Alex. - a very familiar voice made Y/N sigh in relief. What show could she put on? She could probably give a lecture on English Literature but she didn’t think that’s what the men and women who came in were expecting to see and hear. The man seemed to shiver at the voice and the grip on her arm softened, allowing her to rush over to Sebastian’s side who wrapped an arm around her waist swiftly. 

He didn’t say anything else to the man, instead slamming the door shut behind the two of them before accompanying her down the stairs back to the table, probably. However, as he passed the table with her still in arms and instead walked outside the cabaret and lead her to the car, Y/N couldn’t help but sheepishly smile, happy she was not going to have to stay there any longer.

   - Sometimes, angel, I think you like to get in trouble. - he signalled something to the driver which led for the partition to roll up. - However, I do not like people disobeying me. 

   - Amelia did say you dislike relishing control. - she spoke up mindlessly. Without much of a struggle, Sebastian wrapped his hands around both sides of her waist, pulling her up and down onto his lap which made her let out a little squeak. 

  - Listen, angel ... - he ran his hand down her back until he reached her lower back. - There are various dangerous men out there that could harm you if you don’t follow my rules. Now what did I tell you before I left, angel?

  - Not to leave the table. - her eyes were stuck onto the car’s carpet. He’s not gonna do it, he’s not gonna do it, she thought to herself.

  - And what did you do, angel? - his hand ran even lower, settling just in the small of her back and turned to toy with the fabric of her dress. 

  - I left the table.

  - Yes. - he cooed. - You left the table. What did I say would happen if you left the table, angel?

  - You said you’d spank me. - she could feel her cheeks heat up. As soon as the words left her lips his hand came down onto her ass over her underwear causing a breathe to get stuck on her throat. Oh, he was gonna do it.

  - Are you alright, angel? - Y/N could pin point a tone of concern on his voice as his hand massaged the hit spot. She couldn’t say anything, her mind still processing what just had happened so she took to nodding her head very slowly in a manner of reassuring him. - Good. 

Y/N wasn’t ready for when his hand came down once more on her supple flesh leaving her to let out a small yet high pitched moan. At that sound, she brought her hands to cover her mouth and soon she realised that having her thighs spread apart was starting to become rather uncomfortable when all she wanted to do was to rub them together. This, however, proved to be quite difficult as he made sure she kept her legs somewhat spread. 

The first spanks aren’t as hard almost as if he was inducing her into it but as time went by the slight sting heightened mixed with levels of pleasure that Y/N was not used to. 

   - What did we learn, angel? - he handled her again so she was straddling his lap. - Tell me.

   - Not to leave the table. - she spoke up, unable to look him straight in the eyes which were darker than before. 

   - Good, angel. - he smirked at her, placing the young handmaid back on her seat. Once she found herself not restrained anymore, she immediately crossed her legs, noticing how wet her underwear felt. 

The ride home seemed to last ages and ages and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure of what to say or how to act. She had just been spanked by her friend’s fiancé and enjoyed it a bit too much, scratch that, enjoyed it very much. After a while they were back onto the lowly lit and silent penthouse. Y/N guessed Gwen was probably already asleep or too busy to come downstairs.

  - Goodnight, Sebastian. - she bite her lip, still not sure of what to say and returned upstairs to her bedroom.

Once in her bedroom, she felt like she could finally breathe properly but instead of freaking out which was what her mind was screaming at her to do, she just smiled like a teenage girl after her first kiss, slowly sliding down the door. How could she not smile? Here he was, a man who did everything fo her, was handsome and noticed her in a way she had never been noticed before. Still, he was very much engaged and she should feel bad so why wasn’t she feeling bad? Maybe it was because of Gwen’s promiscuity, after all if she could go around and sleep with whomever she wanted and still be engaged would she even mind if Y/N was involved with Sebastian? At the same time, was she really ready to backstab her friend like that and become a mistress?

She shooshed those thoughts away, stripping away from her dress and grabbing her pjs from the top of the bed before climbing under her duvet. Sleep would’ve come faster had it not been for her door being opened by Sebastian who was dressed in black sweatpants and a distressed black tee. Before she could ask him what he was up to, he sat next to her, hand coming to caress her face. 

  - I wanted to make sure you were alright. - his finger traced her jaw. - You were very silent in the car. 

  - Am I a bad person?

  - I don’t think you’re able of doing bad things, angel. You’re too good.

  - I can’t stay away from you and you’re Gwen’s.    

  - Y/N ... I will figure something out, okay? You’re not a bad person and I’m definitely not Gwen’s. - he took both her hands in his to kiss them both before settling them down again with a small frown. - You shouldn’t always worry about doing what’s right, Y/N. You can’t always be selfless or you’ll lead to your own self destruction. 

  - I don’t know anymore. - she buried herself in her own sheets. - What are you doing here, anyway?

  - I was wondering if you’d like to make me company tonight. - Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at him. - Not in that way, I just thought that maybe you’d be up for a bit of cuddling.

   - The mob boss, cuddling? 

   - Don’t get cocky, angel. Just because you’re the mob boss’ favourite doesn’t mean I won’t punish you. 

   - I know ... - she raised her torso, leaning against the bed frame. - I just ... what if Gwen catches us?

   - She won’t, she’s not that astute. Definitely not her father’s daughter. - Sebastian smiled at the young handmaid, his hand sneaking towards her while her pinky locked itself with his. - C’mon, trust me. 

   - Mr. Forrest said that no smart girl should trust a mob associate much less a mob boss. - Y/N took to swinging her legs to the side of the bed. - Much less with the Stan family. 

   - Oh trust me, angel. You can rely on me. - his hands came under her thighs, lifting her bridal style. She squeaked, holding onto his shirt for comfort as he walked her away from her bedroom and into his bedroom, if you could call it a bedroom.

Y/N knew the penthouse was big but his bedroom looked bigger than the living room. The walls were as white as hers and most of the house but the main wall was covered with a wood like material. At the centre was a bigger king size bed with the biggest and tallest duvets that looked absolutely comfortable in shades of brown and white. Several pillows were scattered around the bed and by its sides two bedside tables holding picture frames and some night lamps. 

Sebastian laid her on the centre of the bed and she couldn’t help but dip into the luxurious cotton bedding, a small giggle escaping her lips out of pure comfort. She guessed this was what sleeping in a cloud must felt. 

   - What side do you like to sleep on? - he questioned, trying to hide his smile from observing her relish on the softness of the bedding’s material. 

   - Oh, no, it’s alright. - she raised her head. - I’ll sleep on whichever one is lost. 

   - No, angel. This won’t fly with me ... - he crawled up to her. - You’re not my handmaid. When you’re with me you get first pick and you get what’s best. 

   - But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. - she chewed on her lip, eyes lowering down to her hands. Should she even be here? If so, she shouldn’t be making decisions like a queen, she was a handmaid and that was it. 

   - I could never be uncomfortable next to you. - his fingers picked her chin but unlike Mr. Williams, it was a soft touch, a beautiful view. How could she not let her morals out the window when those cerulean eyes bore themselves into hers? - So which side is gonna be?

  - The one facing the window. - she leaned against the pillows, pushing the duvet over her body. - Goodnight, Sebastian.

  - Goodnight, angel. - he kissed the top of her nose.

All her worries seemed to wash away as his arms wrapped around her waist and she let herself go to sleep. Maybe she was a bad person, maybe she was a good one but right now she was just a person hopelessly devoted to a man who was just a man right now. The night went by seamlessly without any noise and without any nightmares and just as morning rose, Y/N was up on her feet and already on the kitchen trying to cook, much to Amelia’s dismay. 

   - You’re acting like a headless chicken, Miss Y/N. - Amelia grabbed the pot of boiling water away from the handmaiden. - Someone had a good night sleep.

   - Maybe ... - she sighed dreamingly, sitting on the top chair, her mind forgetting that she had just slept in the same bed as Gwen’s fiancée. Should she feeling guilty? If so, why was Y/N so happy? 

   - I’m guessing it’s not all because it’s Christmas season. - the maid put a plate of eggs and bacon in front of the young girl. - Should I be too intrusive to wonder if Mr. Stan had any to do with such glee?

   - I don’t kiss and tell.

   - I certainly do. - Y/N moved to see Gwen walk into the kitchen with a smirk on her lips. - I never thought a man would be that talented with just their hands. 

   - You certainly have no filter do you? - Y/N smiled at her friend who grabbed a plate of breakfast for her. - So, what are you planning to do today?

   - Christmas shopping. - she shrugged. - I need to get dad and Dan something before we go back home. 

   - I forgot it was that close already. - in the midst of all her confusion, Y/N had forgotten with how time had flied and in no time she would be able to return home for the holidays.

   - I sure hope I get that birkin this year. - she sighed.

   - You already have a birkin, Gwen. 

   - Yeah, one. Have you ever heard of any mob associate wife, daughter or partner with just one birkin bag? 

   - It’s just a bag.

   - It’s a status symbol, Y/N. - she pointed out.

   - Isn’t being almost married to the mob boss of the most powerful family a status symbol?

   - Maybe Sebastian should give me a Birkin.

   - Keep dreaming, Genevieve. - Y/N bite the inside of her cheek as she recognised the voice coming from behind the two of them. As per usual, he was already dressed in his traditional polished suit and as he walked towards his coffee machine, his hand lingered on Y/N’s lower back making her shiver in anxiety over Gwen noticing it. The heiress, however, did not notice it, too busy in her daydream about getting another Birkin for Christmas from either her father or her fiancée to be. The same fiancée Y/N had spent the night with. - It’s too much money for a bag. 

   - Oh c’mon. - Gwen rolled her eyes. - Every single girl has wanted a Hermes bag, even Y/N wanted one when she was younger.

   - Not a Birkin. - she pointed out. She did remember seeing a black and white photo of Grace Kelly with a big black bag which had hypnotised her as a young girl obsessed with royalty and their wardrobe. 

   - Still ... - the heiress got up from her seat. - I’ll meet you in five, Y/N. Better bring some comfortable shoes. 

   - Will do. - Y/N spoke against her cup while the heiress walked back to her room with a spring in her step. 

  - I must say, angel, I wouldn’t picture you as one to want an expensive bag. 

  - Grace Kelly had one. - she shrugged. - I should go and get ready, Gwen takes shopping seriously.

  - You should buy yourself something too. It’s on me, angel. 

  - No, it’s fine, I don’t need anything. - she really didn’t. Maybe she needed a conscience or a therapist to help her figure out why was she not running away from the very much promised mob boss but other than that she was pretty much happy with what she had. - Besides Christmas is about family and being with those who we love. 

  - That is awfully considerate of you but still, it must not feel good to watch someone shop and get nothing for yourself.

  - I can manage. - she smiled. - I’ll see you later, Sebastian.

  - See you later, angel.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld​  @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir​ @stuffforreferences​

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Deck the Halls with Boughs of Silly

Summary: Take three ghosts and a teenage girl, who happen to be in one band. Have them organize a Christmas party, with decorations, gifts exchange, dancing, caroling, and friends. What you get is the best Christmas EVER, Phantoms-style. A @jatpdaily Secret Santa 2020 gift for @bisexualrhee

Also on AO3.

Merry Christmas Emilia!!! I hope these holidays are going to bring you lots of joy, and the next year is going to be much, much, muuuuch better than this one! Stand tall! Anyho-ho-ho, here’s your story! I hope you like it!

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *  ~ * ~ * 

At first they planned a small celebration purely for Luke. It’d been his family tradition and since he obviously couldn’t celebrate with his mother and father, the band decided to orchestrate a little Christmas party to take Luke’s mind off of things like another anniversary of him running out on his parents, or being - you know - a musician spirit. 

But it sort of snowballed from there and as usual things were never simple for long when Sunset Curve was around.

***

Julie went absolutely nuts with Christmas lights, turning the studio’s ceiling into a miniscule version of the Milky Way. Ray happened to wander inside as she was installing a wee galaxy under the roof, balancing carelessly on a tall ladder. 

After the mandatory lecture on safety Ray smiled slyly and asked if Julie intended to communicate with any missing colleagues from the Upside Down. 

Julie flashed him a panicked look before laughing stiffly. “What?” she asked.

“The Upside Down? Demogorgon? Joyce communicating through lights with Will?” Ray explained. “Come on, we’ve watched Stranger Things like two weeks ago!”

“Ah, Stranger Things,” his daughter chuckled nervously. 

“Stranger indeed,” someone murmured at the bottom of the ladder, for her ears only.

“So… that’s a lot of Christmas lights, huh?” Ray decided to change the subject.

“Yeah, for ambience, you know,” Julie busied herself with the cords. 

“And totally not for a-ny-thing supernatural,” a second voice from the other side of the ladder assured mockingly. Julie had to purse her lips to keep herself from laughing.

“Good. That’s good,’ Ray swung his arms, taking a few long strides towards the door. “Well, then, have an ambient evening!” He disappeared outside.

“Thanks, Dad!” Julie yelled after him, trying to be louder than Reggie, who uttered a cordial “Thanks, Ray!” upon the man’s departure.

“Reggie, Luke!” Julie chided. “You were supposed to hold that ladder, not chat with Dad!”

***

Reggie, to Luke’s disappointment, called dibs on dressing up as Santa Claus. Julie couldn’t imagine a better suited candidate than the happy-go-lucky bassist. Although - she chuckled to herself - it would be funny to see a possibly sleeveless Santa.

The self appointed Father Christmas poofed out and was back a few seconds later sporting a shiny red leather jacket and a matching cowboy hat with a white fluffy fringe around the broad rim. A false beard hung loosely around his jaw. Red cowboy boots completed the look. Now Julie was sure, a sleeveless Santa could never compare.

“You like?” Reggie asked as he swaggered proudly around the studio, showing off his outfit. 

Julie cleared her throat. “Cooooool,” she breathed, fighting off the silly grin that threatened to betray her real opinion. Miraculously, she kept a straight face, even though all she wanted to do was to collapse in a fit of giggles. 

“Your take on Santa is truly astounding.” Alex announced with poorly veiled sarcasm. “Also I’m starting to regret some of my earlier decisions,” he added under his breath.

Luke looked like he was torn between mocking Reggie and sulking, but he ultimately decided to move to the next point on their agenda. “Gifts! Gifts! Gifts!” he chanted.

“Darn right!” Reggie rubbed his hands. “Now that your Santa is here, it’s time for presents!”

He opened the huge sack filled with packages of various sizes. “Me first!” he announced, pulling out a set of envelopes. There was one for each of the band’s members. “Don’t mean to brag, but these are real pearls,” he winked.

“You got us real pe-… okay…” Alex ripped the envelope and pulled out a page with sheet music. He inspected the score, humming quietly. “Hey, it’s a country song!”

“Mine too!” Julie piped in from over her sheet.

“No way!” Luke showed his own page. He burst into laughter.

“This is going to get awkward pretty soon,” Alex sing-sang.

And as if he was a fortune teller, right on cue came Reggie’s squeal of delight. 

He’d just fished out a package with his name on it and pulled out a… page of sheet music. He skipped over the notes and lyrics. “OH-MY-GOSH!” he cried. “You wrote me a country song, Julie!”

“Julie?!” came a surprised shout from both Alex and Luke. “But-”

“Oh, here’s another one for me,” Santa dived into the bag only to pull out another envelope and… yes, another page tightly covered with notes and lyrics, definitely less reader-friendly than the first one. “Oh, Luuuuuke!” Reggie awed. 

“Luke?” Now Alex turned to the lead guitarist, eyes as large as saucers. 

“I wrote him a little bit of something, country style,” Luke smiled benevolently, “I had to reciprocate for his gift of the horse song, you know.”

“‘Bike Shack Polka’ sounds AWE-some!” Reggie pressed the page to his chest. “You guys are just... “ he wiped a tear, that might have been only a little bit imaginary, from his eye.

“Is there- “ Alex squeaked, then cleared his throat, “is there maybe another envelope?” he asked.

Reggie shot him a surprised look, but obediently rummaged in the sack and indeed found another envelope. He opened it and-

“You have got to be kidding me!” he shrieked. 

Alex grinned with satisfaction. “Not bad for the first time, even if I say so myself.”

“Not bad? Not bad?” Reggie was still staring at the page. “Alex, this has ‘our first country single’ material written all over it!” 

“Country single?” Now Julie and Luke looked up from their own pages. 

“Best Christmas E V E R!” Reggie announced, proudly presenting the three country songs he received. “With the ones I wrote for you we are close to having enough numbers for an entire album!” he squealed with joy.

The rest of the band looked at each other in quiet stupefaction.

“What have we done?” Alex mouthed.

“You’d better start learning how to fiddle really fast, Julie,” Luke whispered, raising a brow.

Handing out the rest of the gifts went relatively smoothly. Julie awed at the gorgeous notebook with a dahlia patterned cover. 

“For all our greatest hits,” Luke murmured into her ear. He already finished attaching the new strap to his six-string. It had a cute motif of little glittery ghosts that Julie had painstakingly applied, rhinestone after rhinestone. 

The gifts from Alex were - as one might suspect - thoughtful and endearing. For Julie he selected a pink hoodie, a smaller version of his own. He must have noticed her envious looks, but now the only thing he saw in her face was joy, as she sank inside the soft garment. Luke got a tank top with “MY name is LUKE'' printed in big letters, with a small font addition of “Really. Definitely NOT Trevor nor Bobby'' underneath.

Finally the drummer unwrapped the last gift: a baseball cap, one of those he wore so often, with a set of reindeer antlers at the sides. He immediately put it on and raced to Reggie.

“Let’s go, Santa!” he crouched allowing for the bassist to jump onto his back, piggyback style. Then he cantered around the studio, to Julie’s impromptu “Run Rudolph Run'' a cappella performance. 

They’d probably switch to gallop really soon if it wasn’t for Luke’s frantic gestures. “Reggie!” he shouted, meaningfully raising his brows.

“What? Oh, put me down!” Santa demanded. “I forgot there’s one more gift!” He disappeared outside following Luke’s lead.

The boys opened the door a little wider and carried a huge box inside. It took them both to lift it, although it didn’t seem heavy for them. It was the size that was giving them trouble. They put it in front of Alex and patted their backs.

“Go on,” they encouraged. “Open it.”

Alex untied the wide ribbon that held the box together and its sides fell down.

“Oh- Wow,” Alex’s voice broke and he blinked a few times. He reached out, as if grabbing something.

“What?” Julie pushed to the front. “It’s… empty?” She looked questioningly to the drummer, then to Luke and Reggie. “You gave him an empty box?”

The boys knitted their brows in confusion. Luke was faster to understand. “She can’t see him,” he noted.

“See who?” The girl was at a loss. “There’s no one there.”

“Oh, right!” Reggie slapped his forehead in sudden realization. “Hang on, I got this!”

He poofed out again, appearing a few seconds later with Julie’s dream box in his hands. She zeroed in on him, the scolding of the year on the tip of her tongue, but Reggie just waved a hand.

“Calm down, Jules, it’s only for the glitter,” he pulled out a bag of shiny particles. “Now look!” he instructed. He spilled a bit of the substance onto his palm and then blew it in the direction of the box. 

Julie watched obediently, as the glitter cloud traveled through the air until it reached the box. And then she saw him. There was another boy standing on the cardboard, squeezing Alex’s hand. When he noticed she finally saw him he bowed.

“Julie, meet William,” Luke introduced the newcomer. 

“Call me Willie,” the boy smiled a glittery smile. “Nice to finally meet the famous Julie. I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“You’re Willie!” Julie replied with a smile of her own. “And likewise.”

***

“I’m finally here!” Flynn called from the door. “Are you alo- oh, who’s the glitter boy? And where’s the rest of the guys?”

“One thing at a time, gurl,” Julie laughed. “This is Willie. He’s a friend of Alex’s.”

Flynn gave a little wave. “And the boys?” She looked around as if she could ever see them without music. 

“They’re here alright, just- Alex, wait, what are you doing with that?”

Poof! Now there was a second glittery silhouette next to Willie. And once Flynn focused on the shape, she could also hear the voice. 

“Hi, Flynn! Long time no see,” Alex quipped.

Poof! Now a third glitter-boy became visible, waving enthusiastically at the girls. 

“This is awesome,” Reggie said. “Best Christmas ever!”

“So now we’re only missing Luke,” Alex pointed to something that to Flynn looked like empty air. “But apparently he’s above covering himself with glitter,” he added sourly.

“Wait, I have an idea!” Julie announced. She untangled a string of Christmas lights from one of the shelves and proceeded to decorate the empty space, wrapping the cord around it until it formed a vague shape of a man. 

The rest of the group nodded appreciatively, though brilliant as they were, the lights didn’t solve all of the problems - the shape still had no visible face, hence no voice.

Julie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “At this point it’s either glitter, beauty powder or we start playing, which is gonna be exhausting.”

Flynn thought she heard the slightest sigh from Luke’s light form. Julie nodded and went for her purse. She produced a round box of pressed powder and handed it to Luke. He applied it gingerly and finally Flynn could see his face. Kind of. At least now she had an idea where his face was and what was his current expression. The final result - of a powdered face floating over a spiral of Christmas lights - was rather weird, if not disturbing.

“Happy now?” Alex asked. He looked as if he was having the time of his life. 

“Happy,” Luke grunted. He didn’t sound particularly happy. “Can we do something else now?” 

“Awww, had I known a Christmas tree was an option, I wouldn’t want to be Santa,” Reggie jested. 

***

The party was in full swing and once they started singing and dancing, the boys became easily visible to Flynn. No aids were required at this point, but Luke refused to take off the lights. He stuck a star to his beanie, completing the Christmas tree look. It didn’t stop him from showing off his dancing skills. Julie suspected it was to top Nick’s performance at the dance rehearsal, which was a rather silly thing to do. Yet she smiled to herself at the thought of Luke feeling he needed to compete for her attention.

“Luke, you make such a nice snake,” Flynn commented after a particularly showy worm move . She nudged Julie in the ribs, “He’s definitely a Slytheryn, right?”

All the ‘musical spirits’ gave her a blank stare.

“A sly-what?” Reggie was the first to talk.

“Awww,” Flynn continued, clearly not having read the room, “you and Alex are definitely Hufflepuff material.”

Alex frowned and turned to Julie. “Is she ghost shaming us? We don’t huffle and puff, we’re well-mannered ghosts.” 

He didn’t get his reply as both of the girls, and Willie as well, collapsed in a fit of laughter. 

***

When they finally got tired of dancing and prancing, they decided to give a few old classics a new spin.

“On the twelve day of Christmas my true love gave to meeee,” Reggie belted out, pointing to Alex.

“Twelve drummers drumming,” Alex carried on, pointing to Julie.

“Eleven dahlias blooming,” Julie nodded to Luke.

“Ten terrific gigs,” Luke rasped, nudging Flynn to go on.

“Nine whole brain cells,” Flynn tried to pat Willie on the shoulder. Her hand went through glitter, but he got the message.

“Eight wheels a-skateboard,” he sang in a surprisingly warm tenor. He turned to Reggie closing the circle.

“Seven country a-songs,” the bassist wiggled his eyebrows at Luke, changing the order

“Six best friends forever,” the guitarist sang without missing a beat.

“Five dirty candies,” Alex twirled gracefully, eliciting a bout of laughter.

“Four cute ghosts,” Flynn wrinkled her nose.

“Three deadly hotdogs,” Willie chuckled.

“Two awesome girlfriends,” Julie squeezed her friend’s hand. 

“And a Luuuuke as a Christmasy treeeeeeee!” The said Luke bellowed, in an opera worthy baritone.

They all sank to the ground and laughed, laughed, laughed until their tummies hurt and tears appeared in their eyes.

Alex moved closer to Willie, his back against the couch. He looked around to his company. His friends. His family. Their family.

That’s what it was. Loud. Mismatched. Messy. Hardened by life and death. A little bit silly, a little bit damaged. Supernatural at places, magical to the core. It was theirs and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

 * ~ * ~ * ~ *  ~ * ~ * ~ *

Many thanks to @goblin-alchemist for betareading and her advice!!!

[topguncortez]

I was just thinking about your last Whumptober fix with Shy!Wifey and Jake, and her crush on Rooster, and I had to clutch my Sunday pearls.

because Crush on Rooster? I theorize it came from the way he supported Dragon through her miscarriages. I think there’s this stigma that people who appear to move on after trauma have healed from it too, or are running fast from it, and Jake fell for it. I think he mistook her need for intimacy as her pushing past that guilt, and just needing something else to make her feel better..

and at the same time, he was just so full of anger that he couldn’t really understand what she was going through because he couldn’t understand what he was feeling either.

and I could only imagine wifey going, “You don’t get to make me feel guilty over my friendship with Rooster. there was no crush. I was getting support from someone who knew how to support his wife after losing a baby. I was getting support from a friend who knew what it was like, who knew how I could help you, because I knew you were hurting too. I’m so jealous of Dragon right now, because he never wavered, and you did, and now I don’t know how to deal with that.”

and I’m most definitely talking out of my ass because I love theatrics sometimes, and I know they fix it eventually? But also, is there space for a what if? Where the twins were accidents from rounds of thanks-for-the-memories-sex?

shut me up whenever bc

I love your writing- people are tools, and when they’re jealous and/or bored, they are also total dickbags.

thanksgorlettingmepostthistedtalk

you also have to remember that rooster was there for shy!wifey a lot. he took care of alex when they went and had ella. he’s ella’s godfather. hell, he was even there when eli took his first breath. rooster even said that shy!wifey reminds him a lot of his mom, and that she’s a comfort person to him. yes, he loves dragon with every fiber of his being but there’s a different type of relationship between him and shy!wifey

but i totally agree that shy!wifey probably turned to rooster and dragon more than she did to jake. dragon understands on a totally different level what it is like to lose a child. no one else relates to shy!wifey more in that moment in time, except for dragon. their relationship got closer as they both kind of leaned on each other for strength and that of course lead to rooster’s relationship with shy!wifey getting closer as well. and yes, shy!wifey did develop some jealousy watching how attentive rooster was to dragon. he never turned away from her. yes, he had his moments where he needed to take a step away and grieve on his own, but he never left dragon’s side. we saw that first hand in “To Build A Home”.

jake knew he was out of line for his crush comment. he knew as soon as he said it cause there’s no one more loyal on this planet than his wife and rooster. i mean rooster was loyal to holding a 15 year grudge against his godfather. but shy!wifey’s loyalty goes past just being married to jake. she’s loyal in the way she loves him and cares for him. she could’ve totally made a fool out of him at the naval ball but she didn’t because she cares about jake so much. she’d suffer the embarrassment of being the wife who got c “cheated” on than out him in front of everyone.

[loufuckers]

when she talks (i hear the revolution)

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catched her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

or

The one where Bobby and Reggie are lesbians and maybe Bobby should love herself a little bit more.

Read on AO3

for eris (@molinajulie) , who didn't ask for this but whom i love dearly. thanks for introducing me to this show and loving bobby as much as i do.

Bobbi's uncomfortable the moment she gets inside the club.

This isn't their usual scene and although it's not that different from the grimy, underground places Sunset Curve usually plays at, it's new enough that it has her constantly looking over her shoulder and jumping a little bit every time someone stands just a little too close.

After their last bassist, some dude named Austin who was just mediocre enough and a little too much of an asshole to Alex for anyone to truly care about him, had quit the band two weeks ago, Luke had insisted they do the club rounds, check what the L.A. music scene had to offer and hopefully snatch a new bassist for themselves before their next gig.

They've not been successful, so far. There's lots of talented bassists, this is L.A. after all, but they're either too enamored of their own bands to give their offer a chance, aren't into Sunset Curve's sound, or just straight up don't like the idea of being in a band with a woman. Bobbi doesn't care about men's comfort enough for her to be offended when they give her a once over with a frowned brow and ask Luke if he's sure that's the kind of band he wants to be part of, but when it's the girls who do it... Well that just hurts.

And look, she isn't dumb, okay? She knows what she looks like, what with the small chest and broad shoulders, how she looks with her short hair she asked Alex to cut with his razor last summer after a fight with her mom, the men's flannels with baggy jeans. She's known since Andrew Williams from her 8th grade History class told their entire grade she was a dyke after he catch her looking at an old Playboy magazine behind the bleachers. She knows.

It doesn't make it any better, knowing, when she has to pitch her voice a couple octaves higher that usual when talking to a girl she doesn't know yet so they don't get scared of her or think she's flirting with them. And it sure as fuck doesn't make it better when bassists would rather stay with their shitty, dead-end bands playing underground clubs and illegal parties than be in a band with someone like Bobbi. With Bobbi.

"Did you came here to listen to the music, or are you here just to sulk at the bar and look into your beer like it killed your children?"

And well, Bobbi must have been too busy with her self deprecation time to realize someone sat next to her at the bar and was now looking at her. Not just someone, either, but a girl. A pretty girl.

"I don't have children," she says before she can stop herself, and maybe this is why she's still single even tho it's 2020 and lesbian bars and dating apps are a thing that exist.

"That's good to know," the girl says, and gifts Bobbi a bright smile dressed in red lipstick. "Hi, I'm Reggie Molina"

"Bobbi Wilson," Bobbi says, and fucking extends her right arm for a handshake like a dumbass.

"Nice to meet you, Bobbi," the girl, Reggie, chuckles shaking her hand. "So? Are you here to see a particular band or did you just came here to be sad? 'Cause I gotta say, if it's the second one you chose a terrible place for it."

Reggie is giving a pointed look at the crowd to prove her point, and she's right, of course. Some band is playing a Pearl Jam cover and the audience looks sweaty and a little bit gross from dancing all together and jumping to the beat of the music. Bobbi can't quite make it out with the dark red light situation the club has going on but she's sure she sees Alex by the right side of the stage talking to someone.

"Uh, no, not really. I'm in a band and we're missing a bassist for our next gig. We're supposed to be looking for someone to play with us but everyone seems..." She doesn't finish her thought but Reggie shoots her a look like she knows what she means.

"What's your band's name?" Reggie asks, taking a sip of her drink.

And wow, maybe Bobbi should practice her people skills because she didn't even notice Reggie already had a drink or the way she looks so pretty holding the straw between her red lips. She also got pretty hands, from what she can see of them holding the tall glass of her drink. They look soft but not too delicate, and Bobbi is definitely not looking at how long and slender her fingers are, absolutely not, sir.

"Uh, Sunset Curve?" She's not sure why she phrases it like a question but she hopes that it's just distracting enough so Reggie doesn't realize she went quiet because she was looking at her hands.

"Oh, shit, are you serious? I fucking love your music," Reggie says with another one of her open smiles. And Bobbi isn't looking, but she can see how pretty Reggie looks when she smiles like that. She has one of those smiles that make her do everything she can to keep seeing it. "I saw you guys play this club over at Sunset Boulevard last month, I think, you guys killed it. My sister definitely has a crush on your frontman, bought your demo and all."

Bobbi kinda hates the sound of her own laugh but she can help but laugh at Reggie's words. Girls having crushes on Luke is such an usual occurrence that they now count on the fact that most of their audience at any given point it's made up of teenage girls and young women who are there to see Luke bounce around the stage with his arms at full display. It's cute, honestly, how Luke gets all flushed when Alex and Bobbi joke about how he ought to take his shirt off on stage to see if that helps selling more tickets to their shows only for him to go on a rant about how 'it's about the music, you dorks'.

"She'll be happy to know he's single, then," Bobbi says between laughs.

"Oh, is he now?"

If Bobbi's heart skips a beat or two at the edge of interest in Reggie's voice she hopes it doesn't show on her face. Of course Reggie is interested in Luke, why wouldn't she.

"Is your drummer, too? Single, I mean."

"Uh, yeah, Alex's single," Bobbi says, her disappointment bleeding through her voice just a little bit. "He's gay, thought. Alex, I mean."

"What about the rhythm guitarist?" Reggie asks again, her smile a little darker and just on the edge of flirtatious, and Bobbi is sure she's imagining the way her eyes seem to give her a once over. "Is she single?"

Bobbi takes a long second to reply, suddenly hyper aware of the way Reggie's blue—so, so fucking blue—eyes are looking directly at her, how her left hand is so close to where Bobbi's is, right next to her beer that's most likely gone warm by now. She's suddenly aware of how close they are, how Reggie must have been closing their distance while they've been talking because now she can feel her breath just inches away from her lips, can even taste the fruity taste of whatever cocktail she's drinking.

"Yeah, I'm single," Bobbi says. It's barely more than a whisper, but Reggie hears it all the same if the way she gives her another one of those lopsided smiles and moves even closer to Bobbi are any indication.

They're so, so close now that Bobbi would have to barely move at all to kiss her. Actually, their lips are so close that they might as well be kissing right now because Bobbi can feel the way they move against hers when she speaks again.

"And what's you guys' policy of dating other band members?"  

"Uh, well, Luke and Alex dated for a while a couple years ago before they decided they liked each other as friends better," she replies. She's pretty sure she must look stupid right now, all cross eyed with how close they are and how she keeps trying to look at Reggie's mouth and eyes at the same time. "Why?"

"Well, you said you guys are looking for a bassist and I would like to audition for the position, but there's this really hot guitarist on the band, too, and I don't think I could play with her if I don't get to kiss her, too."

And Bobbi's brain is so haywire by now that one thing she says to this is, "I haven't even heard you play."

Reggie's face moves back just a couple inches as she laughs at Bobbi's words but she's frowning at the distance anyway, so used to feeling Reggie's lips just barely against hers as they speak.

"Then I'll guess you'll have to stick around and watch," Reggie says with a wink and kisses Bobbi.

It's hardly a kiss, to be honest, just a little more than a touch of lips and it's over so fast Bobbi can't even react to it and kiss her back. It nonetheless stuns Bobbi enough that she stands sat at her bar stool even as Reggie gives her another wink and starts walking towards the stage where another band is starting to set up for their own set, too dumbfounded to go after her and still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

[jugxbets]

ALS Chapter Two pt 2

a/n: didnt fit in one post so i had to separate it. will probably do it again with other chapters.

"No, nothing like that.. if i tell you, will you swear you won't tell anyone? Like anyone at all? And you won't ask questions until i'm ready to talk?"

yes, of course. On my mother's pearls. What's wrong?

Alex heavily sighed. "I need a plan b pill."

She heard Veronica lightly gasp on the other line.

<i>o-okay, ill get it for you as soon as I can and we can talk later.</I>

She hung up. She had tears streaming down her face and she didn't even realize. She was scared that if she waited any longer, she would end up pregnant.

Moments later, Veronica texted her to tell her she was outside.

She rushed to get there, getting a questioning look from her dad, who was in the living room.

She walked outside, where she saw Veronica waiting with a paper brown bag in her hands, with her face filled with nothing but concern.

"Thank you." A wave of relief ran through Alex's body when Veronica handed the bag to her.

Veronica nodded. She was debating whether she should ask or not.

Alex took the box out and shoved it down her shorts. She covered the very noticeable box print with her shirt the best she could. She crumbled the bag, and threw it across the lawn.

"You can't tell Archie." Alex whispered.

Veronica nodded once again.

"What happened?" She finally asked.

Alex rolled her eyes. "The obvious."

"But why didn't you—"

"Not here, Veronica." Alex cut her off. "My dad and Archie are inside."

"Does this mean we're friends again?" Veronica gave a small smile.

Alex smiled back. "I guess."

Veronica squealed and hugged Alex. She returned her hug.

"Just don't go breaking Betty's heart. She's had too much of that from stupid Archie." Alex rolled her eyes.

Veronica nodded. "I won't, I promise."

"Okay, well thank you, once again." Alex said with a kind smile.

"For sure, and hey, if you need a 'test,' you know who to call." She joked.

Alex laughed. "Just go."

And she left.

Alex raced back upstairs to take the pill. She took it as instructed.

She let out another sigh of relief, possibly the last one of the night.

She started undressing herself to get into her pajamas. She noticed her waist was bruised. She took a better look in the mirror.

Yep. Bruised.

She huffed. She decided not to think too much about it and continue getting ready for bed.

She fell fast asleep.

——————————————————————————

School was boring the next day. She was sad that Chuck didn't even acknowledge her.

Her heart dropped when she saw Veronica exceptionally close to him in the student's lounge.

She didn't say anything about it and sat on the counter next to Jughead. She began blasting music through her ears, not listening to what any of them said.

Although, it didn't matter how loud she put the volume up, she can still hear Reggie trying to play detective.

She rolled her eyes.

"It's called necrophilia, Reggie. Can you spell it?" Jughead snapped back.

Alex tried holding back a laugh but failed terribly.

She stopped laughing when Reggie launched himself at Jughead. Archie stopped him.

"Hey, shut the hell up, Reggie." He pushed him.

Alex jumped off the counter.

"Archie.." she scolded.

"What do you care, Andrews?" Reggie asked, sparking up some more tension between the two.

"Nothing, just leave him alone." Archie simply stated.

"Holy crap." Reggie said, in a surprised tone. "Did you and Donnie Darko kill him together? Was it some sort of pervy, blood brother thing?"

He got closer to Archie's face.

Alex tried getting in between them so it wouldn't get physical but Jughead held her back.

Then Archie pushed Reggie again.

"Archie, stop it." Alex demanded.

Reggie paused for a second before he launched himself completely at Archie. He pushed him into the vending machine, causing them to break the glass.

Jughead didn't bother to hold Alex anymore since he tried getting Reggie of off him. Moose got up and grabbed Jughead.

Alex was going to step in as well, but Betty was on her feet by then and she insisted on holding her back.

They fell on to the floor where Reggie punched the living daylights out of him.

——————————————————————————

They ended up back home. Alex gave an ice pack to Archie for him to put on his face. Where the bruise was.

"You're such an idiot." Alex snarled.

He sighed.

"Ooh." Fred interrupted.

Both of their attention went to him.

"I hate to ask this, but did you get that in a fight with Jughead?" Fred asked carefully.

"No. It was with Reggie." Archie assured him. "It's a long story."

"I think I can tell it pretty quick." Alex interjected.

"Not that." Archie cut her off. "Jughead and i, we were disagreeing about a girl."

He sighed. "Because there's this girl.."

"There usually is." Fred interrupted.

"But it's not about me and Jughead, it's about me and this girl." Archie elaborated.

Alex's face scrunched up. "What girl?"

"... no one you know." Archie hesitated.

She scoffed.

"Alex, will you give us a moment?" Fred turned to Alex.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm gonna go for a walk."

She headed out.

As soon as she stepped outside, she got a text from Chuck.

From: Chuck

Come over?

She grinned and walked on over to his house.

——————————————————————————

It was the night of the Pep Rally. The first game the cheerleading got to cheer for. She promised herself she would be the loudest for Archie.

Even though he's been acting weird lately, she wanted to let him know she was there for him without telling him directly.

She jumped up and down with her pom poms, despite her still being sore from the night before.

She saw Jughead by the bleachers and approached him.

"You alright?" She called out as she ran up to him.

"Never been better." He sarcastically responded.

"I saw how Moose grabbed you. I was just checking in." She shrugged.

"Thanks." He blandly said.

She nodded.

"Nice outfit." He chuckled.

"Shut up." She laughed.

She saw Archie approaching them from the corner of her eye.

"Can you give us a minute?" Archie asked Alex.

She blinked. "Uh, yeah, I'm gonna go back to the field. Enjoy the game." She smiled at Jughead.

He tried his best to smile back.

She ran back to the cheerleaders. They continued to jump up and down, and cheer.

It physically hurt Alex for her to be this perky.

In the back of her mind, she had hoped Jughead and Archie would make up.

It started drizzling. She groaned. She hated rain.

She shook it off and continued being peppy. She couldn't get yelled at by Cheryl in front of anyone.

It was time for the cheerleaders to get in formation. The principal introduced the mayor.

She went on to talk about how lacking the heart of school spirit wasn't the Riverdale way.

She continued with her small speech, that Alex had already began tuning out.

Cheryl looked out of it. Alex could tell she was trying to keep herself together.

Mayor McCoy eventually introduced the cheerleaders and her daughter's band, Josie and the Pussycats.

Everyone cheered.

They started performing. Everything was going smoothly.

The song ended and so did the performance.

Everyone cheered again.

The cheering continued when the coach introduced the football players.

Alex heard and cheered as loud as she could.

Archie smiled at her.

Cheryl saw Archie and couldn't help but lose it. She ran off inside the school, leaving everyone wondering what had happened.

Veronica followed her.

"What happened?" Alex asked Betty.

She shrugged. "Lets go find out."

Betty ran, leading Alex to the building.

They walked into the girls locker room where they saw Cheryl sobbing.

They both felt bad.

"I'm alone." Cheryl continued to sob.

"You're not alone. It's okay." Veronica tried to comfort her.

Alex shed a tear. She saw Cheryl's real pain that night. She couldn't imagine losing her own brother. Looking at Cheryl made her realize that she would die if Archie was gone like Jason.

Cheryl went in to hug Veronica and sob into her shoulder.

Betty zoned out.

Eventually, Veronica advised Cheryl to go home. She obviously wasn't in the mood for a pep rally. Cheryl ended up taking her advice.

The girls went back to the football field and acted like nothing happened. The game went on and finished.

Betty was looking at Veronica like she missed.

"Go talk to her." Alex nudged her

Betty sighed.

She approached Veronica. Alex followed.

"Hey." She began. "We saw you and Cheryl."

Alex nodded when Veronica looked at her.

"Not many girls would've done what you did." Betty admitted.

"I know I wouldn't have." Alex confessed.

They chuckled.

"Full disclosure. I've had my share of emotional breakdowns." Veronica also confessed.

"If you're not doing anything, do you wanna go get a milkshake at Pop's with Alex and I?" Betty invited her.

"Are you sure?" Veronica laughed.

"Yeah." Betty assured her.

"Guys, I'd love that." She accepted.

They smiled at each other and walked off.

They went to Pop's where as promised, they got some milkshakes.

"Betty.." Veronica began. "Can we make a vow?"

Alex looked at them with curiosity.

"Sure." Betty shrugged.

"That no matter what, no boy will ever come between us again." Veronica continued.

Betty smiled.

"Deal?"

"Deal."

"Thank god for that." Alex sarcastically said. They laughed.

The chimes of the door caught their attention.

It was Archie and Jughead.

They all awkwardly smiled at each other.

"Do you guys want to join us?" Betty offered.

There was a moment of silence.

"Yes." Jughead broke it. "But only if you're treating."

They laughed. Alex slid down the booth so Betty can make room for Archie. Jughead climbed into the other side of Veronica.

Veronica introduced herself to Jughead.

He did the same, where she furrowed her brows and smiled at his name.

They all talked and laughed amongst each other for the rest of the night.

——————————————————————————

It was the Monday. Everyone was in Biology.

Chuck was in the same class now and he ignored Alex. She tried not to take it so personal but she couldn't help it.

"Hey, you okay?" Jughead noticed.

"Yeah." She shook her head and chuckled.

Jughead narrowed his eyes.

The Principal Weatherbee and Sheriff Keller walked into the class.

Everyone's attention went to them.

Cheryl suddenly stood up.

"You're here for me, aren't you?" She softly said. "Because of the autopsy?"

Everyone looked at her.

"We don't need to do this in front of your classmates, Cheryl." Weatherbee said.

"It's all right, Principal Weatherbee." Cheryl assured him. She put out her wrists for them to hand cuff. "They'll find out soon enough."

"Now that won't be necessary." Keller said, chuckling.

"Wait, Cheryl, find out what?" Veronica interjected.

"That I'm guilty." Cheryl's voice broke.

Everyone's eyes widened and gasped.

They took her out of the classroom and into the Principal's office.

Eventually, everyone found out that Jason didn't die on the Fourth of July. But that he had died over a week later.

[blackcatkita]

Coffee Cups and an Underwear Drawer

Book: LoveHacks

Pairing: Mark x MC (Dani)

This one-shot (which was supposed to be a ficlet but you know me) fills a request from @darley1101 and is one of my “Mark and Dani: The College Years” pieces. I hope you like it and if you do, please like, comment, or reblog! I appreciate every single note!

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“I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me drive, Mom. We could have made way better time and I’m the one who knows the city.” Dani pointed at the next intersection from the passenger seat of the car they’d rented to take her back to college half-way across the country. “Turn right up here.”

“Because you’re not on the rental agreement and you drive like a lunatic. You would have tried to lose your dad and brother just because you’d think it was funny.”

“No, I wouldn’t. They have all my stuff in that U-Haul.”

Her mom laughed, then checked the rear-view mirror and her blind spot before moving into the turning lane. “Tell me again why you got an apartment when the dorms are so much more affordable.” Making the turn, she watched in the mirror to make sure the truck was still behind them before speeding up. “The rent in this city is outrageous.”

“Because I’m a senior and all the cool kids are doing it,” Dani answered, watching the house numbers as they passed. Just off-campus, the entire street was lined with old Victorians rented out by Grantmore students. Dani and her roommate would occupy the third floor of one of them, complete with the attic space to do… whatever the hell people did in an attic space. Have parties, she supposed. It was gonna be awesome. “It’ll be fine, mom. I’m splitting everything with my friend Ashley. She’s in nursing school. You’d like her.”

“So because she’ll be a nurse, I’m automatically supposed to like her?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re a nurse so isn’t it like a prerequisite you like other nurses?”

“No,” her mom chuckled. “Where is this house of yours?”

“Oh, shit.” Dani turned around in her seat. “I think it’s back that way.”

“Danielle!”

“I’m just kidding!” Dani laughed. “It’s right up here. Pull up behind that white car.” Unbuckling her seatbelt as her mom stopped the car, Dani bent down to gather all the trash from their road snacks into a recycled grocery bag.

“Huh,” her mom said. “Surprise, surprise.”

“What?” Confused, Dani sat up to look out the window and felt a wide smile spread across her cheeks. There he was waiting for her; her best friend, sitting on the porch steps next to a to-go tray full of coffee cups. Her heart raced, beating two, maybe even three times faster than normal while her stomach flipped and flopped. Weird. It almost felt like she was nervous… but that can’t be it, it’s Mark. Maybe the gas station burrito she ate awhile back wasn’t such a good idea.

“Well, look at that,” her mom mused as Mark stood up and straightened his shirt. “His smile matches yours.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends. He’s probably just here to help me move my stuff… or something.”

“I don’t see any other friends here.” Her mom looked up and down the street before nodding in Mark’s direction. “That is not a boy waiting around to help his friend move her stuff. That is a boy excited to see the girl he loves after missing her for three months.”

“You’re delusional,” Dani laughed nervously. “He has a girlfriend.”

A slow grin appeared on her mom’s face as her eyebrow raised, giving Dani one of the many ‘mom looks’ she and her brother Alex knew so well. This one said- you think you know everything but you don’t know shit. “For now,” she said simply.

“Oh my God, stop.” With shaking hands, Dani smoothed her ponytail. “How do I look? Is my makeup ok? It isn’t all smudged and nasty, is it?”

“Why do you care so much? I thought you were just friends?”

“Ugh, forget it.” Rolling her eyes, Dani opened the car door and stepped out as the U-Haul pulled up behind them.

“I hope one of those coffees is for me!” her mom shouted as Dani slammed the door shut.

Walking up to her new home, and Mark, Dani couldn’t stop the smile on her face if she tried and when Mark met her halfway, he lifted her up in a bear hug so tight she didn’t know how she would draw her next breath. Or even if she wanted to, not if breathing meant he let her go. She pushed the silly thought from her mind as he set her down, still holding on tight. “It’s good to see you, Collins.”

“It’s hella good to see you too, Dani.” His deep voice sounded almost breathless in her ear and his hold loosened, only enough to look into her eyes and smile. “How was the drive?”

“Longer than necessary with my mom driving,” Dani laughed.

“Well, we don’t all think the speed limit is just a suggestion like you do.”

The smile on Mark’s face faded into something softer as he looked into her eyes and when his gaze shifted to her lips and back again, she distantly heard the rumble and clang of the truck’s rolling back door open; reminding her they had an audience. A very nosy but well-meaning audience who would tease her mercilessly for being in love with her best friend. Which was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Yes, of course, it was. Definitely. Nope, nothing to see here, just two friends clinging to each other on a sunny day, not weird at all. A warm flush spread across her cheeks as she let out an embarrassed giggle and stepped out of his embrace, breaking whatever spell his gorgeous blue eyes put her under. “Sorry. I umm…” she mumbled.

“I uh… I brought coffee for everyone,” Mark stammered at the same time. “It should still be hot if anyone wanted some, or whatever.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, the blush on his face matching the one Dani could feel getting hotter on hers.

So he felt it too. The awkwardness, the embarrassment, the warm and fuzzy feeling in his stom… No, Dani, she told herself. It’s just Mark, your best friend, not some stupid crush so stop making it weird. She took a deep breath and smiled brightly, determined to move past… whatever was happening. “You, sir, are my hero.”

A soft, affectionate smile graced his lips as his shoulders sagged in relief. “I try.” With a tip of his head, he gestured at the porch and placed a light hand on her lower back. “Come on, I got you your favorite.”

Falling into step beside him, Dani heard her dad and brother arguing and glanced over her shoulder. Only her mom was visible, standing in the street behind the truck and shaking her head at what was going on inside. Plenty of time for Dani to drink some of her coffee then. All of it, if history was to be believed. Once those two got going it didn’t stop until Dani or her mom took control of the situation. Then they would pout for a few minutes, grumbling under their breath about why they were right before doing what they were told. She turned back around and found Mark holding out a large purple drink with an extra fat straw poked through the top. “You didn’t,” she gasped.

“I did,” he beamed proudly.

“BOBA!” Dani squealed as she took it and cradled its cold surface to her cheek. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.” She took a drink, closing her eyes in bliss as the sweet, nutty flavor hit her tongue. “Oh my god, and it’s taro too. I could kiss you for this Mark, you have no idea.”

“Geez, Dani. It’s just tea.”

“Uh-uh,” she hummed as she took another sip and shook her head. “It’s love poured into a cup and it’s everything.” While she happily chewed away at the black tapioca pearls from the bottom of her drink, the voices by the truck grew more agitated. Now take the goddamn drawers out like I told you to, she heard her dad yell. It took a moment for the meaning of his words to penetrate the boba induced euphoria fogging her brain, but once it did, her face went cold. “Oh, fuck…” she whispered, wide-eyed and slack-jawed with her straw still in her mouth. “They’re gonna find my vibrator!”

“What?” Mark choked as she thrust the cup into his hands.

Heart going overtime, breathless, and seriously regretting her life choices, Dani sprinted down the walkway. If her dad saw what his little girl had hiding in the drawer, she would die. He would die. Everybody would die. Ok, fine, she shouldn’t have relied on just burying it in her unders and put it in a box, but what if her mom unearthed it while unpacking? Not quite as bad, but still mortifying. Even worse if her mom pulled it out and said something like, ‘Oh, I like this model. Good choice, Dani’. Inquisitive or not, there were some things Dani just did not care to know and whether her mom used sex toys was definitely one of them. “Hey! Hi!” Dani shouted as she leaped from the curb and into the street.

Startled, her dad leaned away, lip curled as he looked her up and down, “The hell’s the matter with you?”

“What? Nothing. What do you mean? I’m fine,” Dani rambled, too fast for her words to be seen as anything near casual. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Dad’s bitching about the dresser being too heavy with the drawers in it,” Alex said from inside the truck. To clear the path to the source of Dani’s distress, he lifted a box marked ‘books’ from a stack of three. It was easy for him, thanks to his 6’3 frame, college football physique, and following in her father’s footsteps in the fire department. He set the box down on the other side of the truck and leaned against the open door, crossing his arms as he smirked down at her. “Nice of you and your boyfriend to tear yourselves away from each other to help, Dani.” He chuckled, as usual, thinking he’s funnier than he is as he nodded over Dani’s head. “Hey, Mark.”

“Alex, good to see you again,” Mark nodded back as he joined them, balancing the tray of coffees in one hand and taking a sip of her boba with the other.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Mark shrugged. “Then why’d you give it to me?” He shot her a wink, then took the coffees, and her boba, over to where her parents were ‘having a discussion’ a few feet away.

“Aww, look,” her brother teased as their mom greeted Mark with a hug he could only return half-way. “He’s even in with the parents.”

Dani turned and scowled up at the stupid look on his face, hand pressed to his heart like the irritating moron he was. “Why are you even here, poop stain? Don’t you have a job you should be at or something?”

“Nope. Took a few vacation days to help my baby sister move into her first big girl apartment.” He shot her an extra-cheesy grin and pushed himself off the doorframe. “We’re gonna move as much furniture as we can first, including your stupid dresser. I’ll bring the drawers over so whoever wants to grab them can.”

“No, wait!” she shouted, scurrying up the ramp. She pushed her brother to the side and walked past him. “I’ll get them myself.”

“Whatever, psycho,” Alex mumbled. “What? Worried I’m gonna see your underwear or something? I used to change your diapers.”

“That’s impressive since you were like two when I was born.” Dani rolled her eyes as she slid out the first drawer and walked over to set it down by the door. “And yes, as a matter of fact, I don’t need you or dad seeing my panties ok?”

“Ugh,” Alex grimaced as she walked past for the second drawer. “Don’t… don’t use that word.”

“What? Panties?” she asked as she placed drawer number two on top of the first and went back for the one causing all the trouble. Mark could take the first two, and she’d take the third. Easy peasy and no one else would have to know what was hiding inside.

“Yes. It’s gross. Coming out of your little sister’s mouth, it’s gross.”

Balancing the drawer on her hip, Dani plucked out a pair of black lace panties and dangled them in Alex’s face. “Panties, panties, panties, Alex,” she laughed, chasing him to the other side of the truck. “Eww… so gross!”

“Mom!” Alex shouted, cowering in the corner as he tried to block the assault. “Dani’s shoving her underwear in my face!”

“I don’t feel bad for you,” their mom shouted back. “I seem to recall you chasing her around the house with your cup after football practice. Payback’s a bitch, Alex.”

“Ha!” Dani cheered. She got one more hit against the side of his head before he pushed her back and jumped out of the truck.

Red-faced, he pointed up at her from the ground while the rest of them laughed at the show. “I’m getting you back for that, shithead.”

“Ooh…” Dani shivered mockingly. “I’m so scared.”

“Fuck your drawers, Dani.”

“When you say drawers, do you mean…” Alex cut her off with a glare, but she raised her eyebrows and mouthed the word anyway.

Lips pressed together as he tried not to laugh, Mark handed back her still full boba and grabbed the two drawers. “I’ll take these,” he said in a pinched voice.

“Thank you, Mark,” she smiled sweetly. Not trusting her brother to not spill or spit in her drink, she placed the cup in the drawer and got a better hold with both hands. “I’ll get the doors open and stuff before we take more up, k?” she told her dad as she walked down the ramp.

“Yeah, alright,” her dad grumbled with a nod. “Don’t be putzing around up there though, we’re burnin’ daylight here.”

“We won’t, Dad,” she grinned as she and Mark passed.

“So I was gonna give Alex his coffee but I figured he might have thrown it at you,” Mark mumbled as they made their way up to the door.

“Nah,” Dani laughed. “He’s all bark and no bite but I understand your concern.” She walked up the porch steps and stopped, looking at what was hanging on doorknob then down at the drawer in her arms. “Ah, crap. I gotta get the key from the lockbox. Here.” She turned around and placed her drawer on top of the two Mark was carrying, making him grunt as the height of which brought all of her undergarments up to his chin.

“So umm… did Ashley move her stuff in yet?”

“Yeah, yesterday. Today she’s showing her sister Sienna around the city,” Dani explained as she punched in the code the landlord gave her. She glanced over her shoulder and held in a laugh at the sight of Mark, cheeks red, and trying very hard to look anywhere but at what was right under his nose. His eyes trailed down, then shot to the side as he cleared his throat and she resumed the task at hand before he could catch her watching. “Hey, what were you going to tell me earlier?” she asked as she got the key from the box and inserted it in the lock.

“What?” he croaked.

“When I ran off you were about to say something.” She pushed open the heavy wood door, turned back around and took the drawer off his hands. “What was it?”

“Oh.” One corner of his mouth twitched in a shaky half-smile as his blush grew deeper still. “I… I just wanted to say that I uh, I missed you.”

The smile she returned spread slowly across her face. “I missed you too, Mark. Like a lot.”

[penninstitute]

Case #9910208

Statement of Adrienne Tasker, regarding her childhood friend Kennedy Holst. Original statement given February 8th, 1991.

First things first: I will never forgive the town for what they did to Kennedy Holst.

She was the one good thing I had there, and everything about her was destroyed to create something worse.

I know I should start from the beginning and give a proper explanation, but Corsica deserves this, even if they’ll never read it. Whatever thing is ruining that town, whatever thing ruined Kennedy, it needs to be said that it is horrible and disgusting and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell anyone.

Kennedy and I grew up in Corsica, Pennsylvania. The Holsts moved into town one July evening when I was four, and my mother made fast friends with them. Right away, Kennedy and I took a liking to each other. We were the same age, we both had older siblings who also became friends, though I don’t know what really happened to Josephine after she got out. I know Alex still lives at home. He never did escape, not the way I did. Nor the way Kennedy did, as fucked up as it was.

I don’t know if I feel bad for him or not. I think I was scared for him, once, but now… I don’t know. I don’t know if he knows what’s really happening there.

I’m not sure I do, either. But I’m not afraid of it anymore. Just angry.

There is--was--a house in Corsica, Pennsylvania, we called the Crucible House. It was old and abandoned and always smelled vaguely of smoke. People reported hearing screaming or smelling burning hair when walking by, but investigations into the place found nothing. It was named the Crucible House because of rumors about modern-day witch trials that took place there, rumors about girls being burned at the stake within its walls. I thought it was all bullshit, just a spooky story told by the seniors in high school to scare the freshmen that had just read The Crucible for their summer work--watch out, or you’ll get sent to the Crucible House.

I thought it was entertaining. Now it’s not funny anymore.

Kennedy and I stuck together all the way through high school. The two of us were best friends, you wouldn’t find us anywhere without the other. I told her all of my secrets, and she… well, I thought she told me all of her own.

I was a little in love with her, if I’m being honest. She was so sweet, one of the kindest people I’d ever met. Despite her family’s struggles with money and mental health and whatnot, she managed to keep smiling through it all. Managed to keep her chin up, almost until the end. She was… so pretty, too, with long blonde hair and the prettiest brown eyes. Admittedly, I was more than a little in love with her.

We were two parts of a whole, people would joke. We were fated to be friends, platonic soulmates in their eyes. Though I would’ve liked to drop the platonic part. I don’t know if Kennedy would have felt the same way, before everything happened, but… I think she did. I think she still felt it, even after everything. I kind of hope she did.

I just don’t know if that would bring her back to me. I’d like it to. But I don’t know how any of this works.

Kennedy stole a lot. It was a bad habit of hers, something she did all the time, she’d pocket anything small enough that she could get away with. Sometimes, she would return things, but more often than not she’d just forget what she’d bought and what she’d stolen. I thought it was a bit endearing, the forgetfulness, but the stealing was a touch concerning.

But I never bothered her about it. It was her life, who was I to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? Fuck capitalism, anyways, these were big stores that could handle a few losses. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

But then her father found out.

James Holst started out a kind, understanding, patient man. I remember him, back when I was little, he was always so sweet. He was like a father to me, since mine was never in the picture, up until sophomore year of high school. Then, he began to change. I don’t know what it was about him, but he grew temperamental, rude… hot-headed, I guess works. And his eyes were a horrible red, it was unnatural--they’d always been brown, but one day they weren’t, and quite honestly, I’m still a bit scared of him. I don’t know where he is now, but he’s not dead. He did not die in that fire, that night.

James caught Kennedy stealing one afternoon, and yelled at her out in the yard for everyone to see. It was one little thing, and he brought Hell down on her head, screaming like a lunatic--it scared me. It scared my brother, it scared Josephine, it brought Kennedy to hysterics. And the neighbors just watched like it was a show. Kennedy’s mother looked almost amused as James shouted about damnation and Hell and how Kennedy was awful, horrible for all of these little things. He even said some queerphobic bullshit about Kennedy and Josephine, and nobody did a fucking thing.

I don’t know how I didn’t notice it until that moment, but everyone’s eyes had turned so… cruel. My own mother, who would have clutched her pearls at the idea of someone screaming at a child, was silently staring, eyes alight with intrigue, as if wondering how this would play out.

Kennedy was dragged inside, and I had never felt more afraid than I did in that moment. I honest to God thought James was going to beat her.

I almost wish he had, as horrible as that sounds, because she may have been able to escape that. She may have been able to get away, if that was all he did.

Later that night, my mom said we were going out with the Holsts for dinner and a show to try and lighten the mood. Alex and I were apprehensive, but I went over to Kennedy’s house to bring her back to mine so we could get ready together. She needed the space from her father.

She was quiet when she came over. Had I known that would be our last night together, that quiet, afraid July evening like the one she moved in on, I would have done more, I would have said something, I would have told her everything I felt. But the truth of the matter is that I didn’t, and I don’t know if I will ever be able to tell her.

I remember how she looked that night, in a plain white dress and sneakers, because she didn’t have any nicer shoes to wear. I thought it was cute, charming--the typical thoughts of a young girl who was hopelessly in love with her best friend. I sat her down, took her by the shoulders, and told her that I would always be there for her, through everything, and she could tell me if things were worse than they seemed. She could tell me what was wrong, what was going on with her father.

“It’s over, Adri,” Kennedy said. “We won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

I didn’t know what she meant. But I loved her, I trusted her, I had to trust her. So I did.

I shouldn’t have.

I only realized just how bad things were when we pulled up in front of the Crucible House. James was there, waiting, with his wife and Josephine, and about two dozen other people from town. It’s a small town, I had known these people for years, the families had been nothing but kind, but that night--that night their eyes were cold.

Millicent Jacobs, the kind, young, single mother of two-year-old Evan Jacobs. Romeo Payes, my English teacher. Ellie Johnson, the eldest daughter of the Johnsons. Kind, regular people, big names in a town of roughly 300, people I knew and people that knew me.

Turns out I didn’t know them at all.

The building was hot when we entered. Stuffy, stifling heat. I began to sweat almost immediately, and it was disgustingly dry inside. I couldn’t get away. I was afraid, I didn’t know what was going on, this wasn’t what my mom had said was happening, and I did not trust a word anyone said to me from there on.

James sat Kennedy down on a chair at the front. Everyone else took their seats in benches that surrounded the large, wooden stake in the center of the room. It was all so closed in, so hot and cloying and awful, and Kennedy looked afraid and resigned all at once and I wanted nothing more than to hold her hand, than to run with her, than to get away.

But I sat and looked pretty, because I could not escape without these people going after me--I knew, then, that they would chase me if I ran. I didn’t know how to get us away safely, so I sat, frozen, clutching Alex’s hand so tightly it hurt. Josephine held my other one. We didn’t know what was happening, but we were afraid, and we knew it would be bad, whatever it was.

James tied Kennedy’s wrists above her head, pinning them to the wooden stake. I clutched Josephine and Alex’s hands so tightly I thought I would break them. I couldn’t do a thing as the kindling was arranged.

Kennedy did not scream when she was set on fire.

The crowd cheered when she went up in flames. I think I may have been screaming. Josie and I were crying. Alex didn’t even look present. Kennedy burned alive in her pretty white dress without a sound, and everyone was happy.

She died.

And then she didn’t.

Cheers turned to screaming when the building caught fire, and Kennedy tore away from the stake, still burning. Her eyes were golden in the rising flames, and she shoved through the crowd, leaving footprints burned into the wood in her wake, and she grabbed my arm and ran.

It burned. There is a handprint scorched into my skin where she grabbed me. We left that house, and she left me on my front porch in tears.

“Stop crying, Adri,” she said softly, “it’s over.”

I was afraid of her in that moment. She was different, leaving burned footprints in her wake, smoke curling off of her shoulders, looking untouched by the flames. She did not touch me again, and disappeared before anyone returned to find her.

The next morning, the Holst household had been burned to the ground. Josephine had taken the car and left. I moved away for college two months later, and I’m never going back.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

- This is not the first time Corsica, Pennsylvania has come up. In Case #9971014, Ms. Coombs moved to Corsica before her home caught fire in 2002, and she has not been seen since.

- Fire seems to be a commonality between these two statements. It’s interesting, to say the least, along with the sudden shift from kindness to cruelty noted here. I don’t know what would cause such a thing, but whatever is afflicting this town seems to enjoy causing pain.

- As for Ms. Holst, she reportedly died in a house fire on July 19th, 1990, though that is clearly not the case if what’s stated here is true.

- The people of Corsica, Pennsylvania refuse to speak to Institute staff at all. I may send Felix, Blair, or even myself up to check out the town in person, once the Skinsnatcher case is over with.

[zambie-trashart]

Holy Drummer: Chapter 3

Full story on ao3

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Summary: Facing religion, sexuality, and music is not what Alex sighed up for when his parents convinced him to help out those who were far from God. Can he handle his two newest challenges named Reggie and Luke?

Chapter 3: He’s in the Missionary Position

“Luke!” a voice called Luke out of his slumber and he looked up to see it was seven in the morning. “Luke honey church starts in an hour get up and get ready!” Emily’s voice called up to her son’s bedroom and he sighed rolling over his knees hitting the floor dragging his blanket off the bed with him and a pillow still in his hand. He stood up walking over to his closet to see a dress shirt and black pants picked out for him to wear. He flung his shirt and boxers off replacing his underwear quickly before pulling his pants and shirt on taking himself in in the mirror.

“This better be worth it,” Luke said walking down the stairs to the table which was set with a light breakfast. Luke looked at his mother questioningly, she would never make something so simple for Sunday breakfast.

“They serve food after the service too honey, and that’s where you’ll meet Alexander. His parents did assure us that he’s a very nice boy,” Emily said and Mitch looked through the newspaper.

“Be on your best behavior today ok son?” Mitch looked at his son for reassurance.

“Of course dad,” Luke said smiling at his father who nervously looked back down at his newspaper.

Reggie fought Marla to get on her dress, the seven-year-old ran around her room giggling in only shorts, a tank top, and a pair of blue mary janes.

“Marla come on,” Reggie urged her and his mother came into the room patting his head laughing at his sister only to glare at him on the way out of the room pulling slightly at his hair before walking down the hall to get her pearls. Marla had slipped into her navy short dress and ran over to Reggie pulling on his red tie getting him to look at her.

“I love you, Reggie!” Marla yelled and jumped into his arms making him tear up a little. It had been days since someone who wasn’t Luke said that.

“I love you too Marla,” Reggie said petting down her hair which was sticking up. “Can I fix your hair before church?” Reggie asked and Marla giggled climbing down him before dragging him to her bed to do her hair.

“Can you do a braid this time Reggie?” Marla asked, her green eyes were full of hope and wonder that Reggie wished the world would never extinguish.

“Of course.” Reggie’s parents watched their children in Marla’s room hoping that Reggie would be fixed soon so they could love their precious son again.

Sara groaned, her hair wasn’t working with her again and Alex adjusted his tie in her room eyes blinking rapidly as he sprayed hair spray in his hair frowning as he pushed his blonde bangs back.

“Are you ready, it didn’t seem like you practiced last night?” Sara asked not wanting her brother to freeze up in front of the congregation cause he didn’t remember the words, she would save him of course but she wanted him to sing the whole song for once.

“I know this one inside and out backward and forward Sara, this has been my favorite since we were kids,” Alex said going over the words in his head once again and she threw him his blazer while putting her earrings in smiling at her little brother. She could see he was starting to stress himself out and needed to get him out of his head.

“I’m glad cause I’m not saving your ass this time,” Sara said pulling her grey sweater over her head and slipping into her heels running out the door and he followed her out to the car, and Caroline and Phillip looked as their kids got in Sara’s car laughing together and walked outside.

“Get there safely ok!” Caroline called out waving to her kids who waved back still giggling.

“Let’s do it!” Sara yelled top down over her convertible blasting Christian rock smiling as the hymn her brother would be singing came on and they sang it together horribly out of pitch feeling themselves relax and Sara smiled seeing the anxiety fade out of his body and his eyes shining bright again.

Sara parked her car and got out seeing someone was already there opening the door and setting up. “Why thank you, good sir,” Sara said, holding Alex’s hand dragging him in and the man laughed holding the door open for them. The piano was there for Sara to play and the chair were set up for the choir and a bunch of pews set up for the congregation to sit in. Sara rubbed her brother’s shoulders as he looked out at the wooden seats anxiously.

Sara dragged him to the back as the room started to fill up with people to take some stress off of him.

“Lexi?” Sara asked, trying to get her brother to at least glare at her. “Lexi!” she tried again and Alex looked up with a “really” look in his eyes.

“I’m fine Sara, I just don’t want to screw up again,” Alex said, rubbing his wrists and biting his lip.

“You won’t cause I’ll be right there with you,” Sara said making it seem like he wasn’t about to sing in front of the biggest congregation in LA which had hundreds of people coming.

“If you weren’t, I would be very pissed and nervous,” Alex said, elbowing her before hearing their father tell everyone to take their seats. “Come on.” The two took their seats near the choir who smiled at the siblings and spoke quiet reassuring words to Alex.

Alex listened to his father preach and the congregation respond thanking God silently for making this the longest sermon he had ever heard.

“...Amen!” Pastor Joyner finished arms flung up in the air smiling at the people and Sara got up pulling Alex with her and she moved to the piano and Phillip passed his son the microphone. Alex looked over the congregation before taking a breath in squeezing the microphone and looking up from the floor opening his mouth to sing.

“Well, Emily, you look lovely today,” Lauren Shada said, holding the door for Emily and Mitch, smiling politely at Luke before grimacing when he turned away. Reggie held Marla’s hand since his father was too busy finishing off a bottle of whatever and throwing it on the pavement before walking into the church.

“Oh, Lauren you’re too kind,” Emily said to the woman she had been friends with since Luke and Reggie were in diapers. “We should find a spot together,” Emily suggested and the back row was the only one left with just enough space for all of them when Marla sat on her mother’s lap. Mitch and Roy talked quietly, Emily and Lauren gossiped about things that Reggie and Luke didn’t understand, and Marla was quickly switched to her brother’s lap when Lauren got heated in conversation. The lights started to flicker on and off and the man from the previous day took to the stage in a robe with a loud voice and a microphone shouting out to the people.

Luke and Reggie were bored already and a twenty-minute sermon was preached to them and then suddenly a blonde girl and boy took the man’s place obviously going to do something musical. Luke couldn’t help but notice how nervous the boy looked but he took a deep breath in and looked up at the crowd of people blinking fast before words started to come out through the voice of a low tenor which was just right.

“When peace like a river, attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll. Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well, with my soul. It is well with my soul. It is well, it is well with my soul.” Luke looked at him in shock, this boy was good. Reggie elbowed him wanting to see his reaction to the blonde and was pleased to see that they were on the same wavelength.

“Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, let this blest assurance control, that Christ has regarded my helpless estate, and hath shed His own blood for my soul. It is well (it is well) with my soul (with my soul). It is well, it is well with my soul.” People had started to join the boy now and the girl playing the piano had sung a bit with him adding a nice vocal mix.

“My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought. My sin, not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul. It is well (it is well) with my soul (with my soul). It is well, it is well with my soul. It is well (it is well) with my soul (with my soul). It is well, it is well with my soul.” The people clapped and Reggie found himself staring at the boy and getting up to clap with the rest of the people.

“Catholic boys are pretty,” Reggie whispered to Luke who laughed before nodding signifying that he agreed with Reggie’s statement.

The rest of the service was pretty bland compared to that but when they moved to a different room with food and people walking around talking to each other, church seemed to not be so bad. Two girls approached them and started talking and flirting with them and to try and seem as straight as possible, they indulged them for the time being. It’s not like either of them didn’t like girls as well, they just loved each other more than they did any girl that was around.

Alex’s blonde parents moved over to them smiling arms out welcoming them. “Luke and Reggie, we’re so glad that you made it, Alexander is just wrapping something up with an elderly couple who just loved his voice today. I can’t even believe it myself, must be a miracle that he got through the whole thing without slipping up,” Caroline praised and Reggie and Luke’s eyes widened.

“Wait, so that guy who was singing earlier was…” Reggie started and Caroline and Phillip nodded.

“He’s our boy and the piano player is our daughter Sara, such gifted musicians, we tried to give them as much time they needed before playing before people,” Caroline assured them smiling sweetly and two blonde copies of the adults before them walked up, Alex looking nervous and Sara smiling brightly.

“Hey there,” Sara said holding her hand out for them to shake. “I’m Sara,” she introduced herself with a glint of mischief in her eyes making Luke and Reggie a little nervous. Alex held his hand out too not saying anything until Sara elbowed him in the side.

“Hi, I’m Alexander, call me Alex though, unless you don’t want to then you don’t have to,” the blonde rambled until Sara hit in in the side again with a short “Lexi” coming out of her mouth trying to stop her brother from digging a deeper hole than he was already in.

“Nice to officially meet you, Alex, I’m Reggie,” Reggie said smiling gently at Alex like he was a scared puppy.

“I’m Luke.” Luke followed by Reggie’s example and Caroline smiled at the kids getting along and excused herself to go deal with some church stuff.

“I’ll go with mom just in case she needs any help, nice meeting you Luke and Reggie,” Sara waved over her shoulder and Alex looked after her with pleading eyes not wanting to be alone with Luke and Reggie just yet. He turned around smiling awkwardly.

“You have an amazing voice,” Reggie complimented and Alex blushed muttering out a thanks. “You need to own your awesomeness, your voice is amazing and you should really appreciate the gift you have of moving people through song, I heard a grandma crying dude,” Reggie said nudging Alex who smiled laughing slightly.

“Yeah I guess I do have a gift.” Alex liked having them to talk to.

“Well, Reggie and I are in a band with another guy from school named Bobby, maybe you could join,” Luke said wanting to spend more time with Alex outside of church and conversion stuff.

“I play the drums but my parents want my music to be strictly God related, I wish I could join though, it sounds cool.” Reggie and Luke looked at each other in victory. They knew what they had to do, they had to get Alex to join their band and fall in love with them so they could have him all to themselves. They couldn’t exactly have Alex’s god loving parents third-wheeling in the relationship either. That didn’t matter though, they were going to get Alex whether he liked it or not.

[aewriting]

Loathly - Chapter 6

Here is Chapter 6 of my Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell Malex AU.  This is the wedding chapter.

Here are all parts on AO3.

Warnings for ageism, sexism, homophobia.

***

Life is better, with Lady Guerin at court.

Not since Lady Elizabeth lived here has Alex had a true friend, an ally.  Lady Guerin has been put up in quarters close to Alex’s own, though plans have been made for them to have adjoining rooms following the wedding ceremony, which is fast approaching.  The palace has been a flurry of activity, preparing guest rooms, cooking food, decorating the grand hall.  It is too much, Alex thinks, and yet… he sees the Lady Guerin’s point, that such a ceremony should be public, for her own protection. And Alex desperately wants to protect her, this good thing in his life.

He could never love her, romantically.  But there are other kinds of love, and he… he feels that, between them, believes they share a mutual care and concern.  A respect. Alex has lacked that, his whole life, and to find it somewhere so unexpected… it feels miraculous.  

If he must marry a woman, he is glad it is the Lady Guerin.

He tells her that one afternoon, and her face goes very still. She looks younger, sometimes, when surprised, when her eyes widen and she bites her lip.  When she finally speaks, her voice is very soft, barely audible.

“There is no one I would rather marry, Sir Alex.”

***    

He’s sparring with Flint, when he says it.

“Thank your woman for me, Alex.”

Alex lands a hit, pulls back. “What?”

Flint grips the wooden sword he is using, swings for Alex’s bad leg.  Alex blocks the blow, glares at Flint.

“The veil.  I’m glad to not have to look at her face any more.”

Alex is angry at that.  He… he knows that the Lady Guerin is not the most physically attractive woman in the realm.  But by the gods, there is more than that, to her… to any woman, any person.  Alex certainly knows that, especially since his injury. He lands a hard blow to Flint’s knee, knocking him down. Flint loses his practice sword, tries to scramble for it, but is met with Alex’s own sword at his nose.

“That’s enough.  Enough of your mouth and of this fight.” He steps back, sighs.  “I cannot control what your narrow mind thinks, brother, but the Lady Guerin will be my wife within the week.  You will not disrespect her in my presence.” Without waiting for a reply, Alex stalks away as best he can.

He seeks out Lady Guerin, mind troubled by what Flint had said.  

“My lady,” he says, coming across her in one of the palace gardens.  Sure enough, her face is veiled. “May we speak?”

Lady Guerin’s large eyes dart around.  “Certainly, Sir Alex. I believe this is a sufficiently private setting for whatever you may wish to discuss.  Without appearing unseemly, of course.”

Alex relaxes a bit.  “Of course.” He frowns, then.  “You… you know you can always refuse me?  If you do not wish to speak, or spend time together. Even once we are married. I, I will be your husband, but not your – “

“Commander?” the woman says, arching an eyebrow.  “Because I’ve been receiving some ‘training’ from the fine ladies of the court of Unidos, and what they say sounds… quite different.”

Alex purses his lips. “I am different. Please, please tell me you know that.”

He can see her face soften, then. She brings a gloved hand to the side of his face, strokes it fondly.  “I know.” She withdraws her hand then, quickly.  Looks down. “I… I do not believe you would ever harm me.  Not intentionally.”

“I would strive to avoid it, my lady.”

“I believe you,” she says. “And I trust you,” she says, almost fiercely.  “By the gods, I have been too trusting, in the past, but I do not believe my faith in you could ever be misplaced.”

It gratifies Alex, hearing such words from this woman. “I trust you, too,” he says, noting the look the woman gives him in that moment. It is indecipherable.  He clears his throat.  “I… there is something that is troubling me, though.  Why hide your face? It is warm out, and it is not the style or custom here.”

Lady Guerin looks down. “There are those at court who have made… unkind remarks, at my expense.  I am many things, Sir Alex, but I am not foolish. I know what is said about me, about my appearance and age.  It is sometimes easier for me to… go about my day and business unmolested if I am not so… visible.” There is real pain on her face then.  “It is odd, as I have become used to my appearance rendering me invisible, most of the time,” she muses. “Such was the intent, I believe.” Alex frowns. The woman’s eyes widen then, and she looks almost – scared? She swallows quickly. “But I digress.” She peers at Alex, gestures to her veil. “Would you prefer I change this, my lord?  Or any other aspect of my appearance?” She is looking at him intently.

He smiles at her, takes her hand. “My lady, it is your face.  So it is your choice.”

And even through the veil, Alex can see her smile.

***

“Sir Alex?”

Alex looks up.  “Yes, my lady?”

“Before I take my leave, there was something I wished to discuss with you.  It concerns our plans for after the wedding.”

Alex closes the book he is reading, looks up at the Lady Guerin.  “Please, sit.  Tell me what is on your mind.”

The Lady Guerin’s lips are pursed, and she looks thoughtful as she settles herself next to Alex.  Her veil is still in place, revealing just those large, flashing eyes.  “These past few years,” she starts, “I have largely kept to myself, in my cottage to the North of Unidos, the region bordering Antar. Beautiful country, up there, but I find myself yearning to see other sights.”

“Oh?”

“Unidos is such a large and varied kingdom,” she continues.  “There is even ocean access, yes?”

Alex nods.  “In the South.  Bordering the Tamarin Isles.”

The lady nods.  “It has been so long since I saw the ocean.” She turns her attention back to Alex.  “And it may do us good to get out of the palace, both of us. If only for a little while.”

Alex looks at her thoughtfully. “With all of our efforts consumed by King Noah’s riddle, this last year, it has been some time since we toured the southern border, made overtures toward our allies there.” His eyes narrow. “I believe I could sell such an idea to my father.  It would be nice to be out of court for a while. My brothers enjoy it, but I…”

The woman scoffs a bit. “It is a nest of vipers, truly.”

Alex raises an eyebrow, and the woman shrugs. Alex exhales, softens.  “I should like to show you the ocean, my lady.”

“I should like that, too.”

***  

It is done.

Alex gazes out over the great hall, takes in the mass of people that have just witnessed his wedding to the Lady Guerin, and are currently feasting and drinking.  King Manes is in a splendid mood, considers the whole occasion a success, an opportunity to crow about his superior wit, cunning, power…

Flint is drunk, flirting with a buxom serving girl. Gregory is more strategic about things, chatting in a corner with one of the princesses of Grenwell.

Alex sighs, takes a sip of ale. He looks at Lady Guerin, seated next to him.  She is bare headed and bare faced today, but for a small gold crown nestled in her grey curls.  She is wearing a fine dress, flatteringly cut, Alex thinks, and she has one of her own cloaks atop it, the one with the pearls.  Her head is high, as if she wants to be seen, but underneath the confident air, she seems… nervous.  Alex leans in, grasps her hand.

“My lady?” he murmurs.  “You seem somewhat… ill at ease.”

Lady Guerin exhales, turns to face him.  “Is it so obvious, Sir Alex? I was trying to conceal my true feelings in front of this crowd.”

Alex gives her a reassuring look. “Only obvious to me, I believe, my lady.”

She shakes her head a bit. “You know my moods, Sir Alex.  Heaven forbid I try to conceal anything from you,” she says, frowning slightly. “This is… quite overwhelming.  A new life I had never really intended.” Alex sees her eyes flit to the side, toward where the delegation from the Tamarin Isles is seated.  “It is reminding me of my past.”  She bites her lip a bit.  “A past that I must tell you more about, tonight. Privately.”

Alex’s brow furrows. “Of course, my lady.” He smiles then, a bit sardonically. “Whether we like it or not, we shall be granted total privacy tonight. The kingdom expects it, nay, demands it.”

***

Lady Guerin, as expected, begs her leave from the wedding feast just before sundown.  The festivities are just picking up, and though Alex and Lady Guerin are supposedly the reason for the celebration, few people notice that they have left.

Alex takes her hand and leads her through the winding halls of the palace, to their new quarters.  There is a guard at the door.  Alex nods to him, and the guard opens the door, allowing Lady Guerin to pass.  As Alex approaches, the guard leans in. “I don’t envy you,” he mutters. “For Unidos, eh?”

Alex frowns.  “I’ll hear none of that. The Lady Guerin is my bride.” He looks down the corridor, flags down another guard.  “Please relieve this man,” he shouts.  As the other guard strides toward them, Alex redirects his attention to the guard in front of him.  “I will not have you guarding my bed chamber if you cannot treat my wife with the respect she is due. Is that understood?” The guard nods, tightly, and walks away.

Alex sighs and, once the other guard is in place, he enters his new quarters. They are spacious, and beautifully appointed, as is fitting for the occasion.  There are freshly laundered linens on the bed, water and wine by the bedside, and fresh, fragrant blooms.  Refreshments, too – breads and cheeses, sweetmeats and ripe fruits. The Lady Guerin is running a finger along the side of the bed.  “This is beautiful,” she says. She turns, faces Alex.  “I… I wish this could be real, for you.  That you could have this with someone you love. You deserve that, Sir Alex.”

“Now, now,” Alex says, crossing to her quickly, grasping her hand.  “My lady, we both know what this is, and what it isn’t. What it could never be – “

“What it could never be here in Unidos,” the lady says, forcefully.  “For there are other places in this world, Sir Alex, other people and ways of being.” She blows out a breath.  “There are kingdoms that would fete a union of a prince like you to whomever he desires. Lands where you could love any person of your choosing.”

Alex crosses to her, embraces her. She leans into it.  “But we are here, my lady. Here in Unidos.  And I have told you before and shall tell you again – there is no lady to whom I would rather be bound in this way.” Alex pulls back and takes her hand, raises it to his lips. “I do love you, my lady, in my way.  And I hope that you can find it in you to love me, too, in whatever way feels fitting to you.”

“There is nothing to find, Sir Alex,” the woman says, and there are tears in her eyes, unshed.  “My love for you… it is already here.”

Alex nods his understanding, his relief.  He… he can do this.  He can live with the Lady Guerin, in a way he could do with few others.  

And then the Lady Guerin is pulling away from him, withdrawing her hand from his, shakily.  “But I fear that your affection for me, whatever form it takes, may not stay, once you hear the truth.” She exhales heavily. “Once you see the truth.”  She crosses to the window, pulls the heavy curtain to the side to view the last of the sun, sliding below the horizon.  “And you will not have long to wait.”