#OH and i forgot to mention you can just straight up melt the plastic with a lighter to get a cool effect

[meowizard]

everytime someone says doll customising is (outrageously) expensive an angel loses its wings

[1eoness]

Could you make a Dom!Leon x trans ftm reader NSFW fic with some fluff thrown into there?

୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ author rambling; HI i am eating pineapple rn and i never forgot this request. just to clarify and for some context, i dont have experience of writing !reader anything out of sub afab so im sorry if this is super inaccurate or inapplicable or unsatisfying and im open to criticism on this :( :) idk im so sorry aghdfhdsfhdj i really need to work on this. oh and i read some ftm smut for this so ty to those writers :> pls criticize anything off (with reason ofc). [btw i feel like this is super bad im sorry im not feeling creative rn i have writers block :((( ]

anyway 'DOM!LEON KENNEDY X TRANS FTM READER NSFW WITH SOME FLUFF THROWN IN THERE' COMING UP. i'm sorry this took so long for such short content too :(

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cw: fluffy dom!leon kennedy, trans ftm!reader (w/ bottom surgery) [i can always redo this if you don't like me mentioning top/bottom surgery]. praise, oral (reader receiving)

synopsis : re4r leon and he loves u and ur worried little face and he's gonna kiss it better (and fuck it better, maybe).

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon loves you. he knows you're constantly worried over him being troubled over his trauma but he wants you to know, between every crevice of his clouded thoughts, that he loves you and it's the surest thing he knows. it's hard to admit but even when he loses himself, it will always, and forever be clear to him that you have his heart and there's a reason why.

you were about to get under the covers to go to sleep (after a day that felt longer than it should be.). though, you lowered your headphones to the lower end of the volume once you saw leon through the bedroom doorway.

"baby, i wanna tell you something." leon said, his quiet and soft voice only going a decibel higher as he crawls to you on your bed. he hated seeing you about to sleep with such a worried look on your handsome face.

you thought he didn't notice? even if you're his neutral-faced boy, he knows when the air around you feels more somber than usual. "do you ever feel.."

"like a plastic bag?" you quipped quickly. (i'm sorry if you don't get it)

"no, damn it." leon's mutter-reply followed with a quiet chuckle that you echoed. he likes that about you, your incessant annoying humor (but you'll never beat him in that). he sighs, and tries again. "you know, like... you're kind of.. stressed over someone else's troubles?"

to be honest, he doesn't really know how to go about it. he doesn't want you to think you're burdening him—though, you could never ever make him feel like that. leon nears you, hovering above you and adoring your face wherever his mind runs. for some reason, before you guys go to sleep he just does this. he also likes talking to you before you both go to sleep ♡.

you hum, just a little bit sleepy. "what do you meann?" you ask quaintly, and leon's heart melts at the tone of your slightly languid voice. you sounded so cute. a rather random yet soft laugh escapes before he dips down to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

"...y/n, i'll just be straight—i don't want you going to bed looking so.. upset." leon mutters softly, rubbing over the skin of your cheekbone with his thumb. maybe he shouldn't have gone into detail how heavy his mission felt. because when he was done talking, you gave him some short comfort and impulsively stood up and said that you needed to wash the dishes (and the dishwasher was literally running when you said that).

at first he thought he did something wrong and upset you, and the guilt immediately seeped in. naturally, he didn't want it to go undiscussed, that would murder him! so he went to find you ASAP. but when he went to check on you in that dim kitchen, he saw you with your back turned and trying to silence your tears. apparently, you felt so bad for him it was enough to hurt you, too. you were just too sweet—leon also felt bad. he gave you some space for a bit, though he's sorry because he really wants to be there for you and he can't afford to leave you by yourself sometimes :(

you looked a little to the side from his forward words. you didn't really know what to say in response, you were just.. tired, and also worried. leon understands this, picking up on it and showing it by giving you a reassuring, subtle smile. he wants to see you smiling, too, and he knows just how to do it. it's his favorite thing about his little boy ♡.

"..come, baby." he coos quietly as he began to take a hold on either sides of your face, knowing you don't need discussion right now. maybe loving is enough. and loving you is a way of reassuring himself, you just need to accept that :( so you be good for him and let him give you the praise you deserve (and so much more).

he kisses you on the forehead first. he loves cradling your handsome little face, placing safe pecks all over it. especially on that spot a little adjacent from under your eyes. leon hums when his lips reach your jaw, peppering it with innocent love. but will it really only go that far? "because you're the most perfect boy ever." he reasons hushedly, his left hand holding the side of your neck and caressing it gently.

oh, it's going to be one of those nights where he kisses you all over and doesn't leave you alone.. but you know better than to complain.

"y're so clingy..." you decided to joke, though you both knew you loved it. while you giggled at his antics, you can feel him smiling into the skin of your neck. he's so ready to spoil you rotten.. and you had no idea:( ♡

he moves his broad hands under your shirt, handling your being with tutelage. the fuss of the sheets make hush noise as he moves downwards, worshipping your body along the way by placing kisses over your clothed stomach. "...so?" he laughs softly against the skin of your lower inner thigh, the fluttery feeling of his lips planting a kiss on it making you shudder. he sees you, and how you turn so bashful all of a sudden.

"..tickles?" leon mumbles amusedly.

"yeah-" you mutter in response before he abruptly did it again on your stomach this time, which made you giggle. you were just too precious to him!

he holds your thighs in his hands for a minute, resting his head against your left thigh. you see the muscles on his arm flex subtly while he does so, your stomach tumbling at witnessing his strength at such a mild moment. for a minute he just gazes at you fondly, a hinting coyness hiding beneath his expression.

you were making it so tough for him. he just wants to kiss you all over . hell, he might even want to merge corporealities with you.

he doesn't speak, his eyes trailing down to your pelvic area while unnoticeably smirking to himself. you were so cute to him, so what else can he do but lift your thighs over his broad shoulders?

but he looks up at you, immediately. his fingertips are teasing at the hem of your bottom clothing, insinuating what he wants to do for you as he lightly taps at your skin. "baby, may i?" he asks with a sudden comforting tone. he'll never make you do something you don't wanna do. but like said, if you accepted, there's no promise that he's going soft on you.. but that's because he just wants you to be all nice and happy! a very innocent motive ♡

"mhm.." you hummed lowly, willingly giving him your greenlight. and has leon said he loves you?

"thank you, love.." he mutters shortly in reply before pulling your pajama bottoms just a little down. down enough for him to free your pretty shaft. he sees you blushing, covering the bottom half of your face with your sleepy hands.

and this man.. was so hard to predict!

the soft hunk of a man wants to wrap his right arm around your abdomen, pull your hips up to his face. "leon!-" you gasp abruptly with that same low voice.

"shhh, baby." leon mumbled while his left hand snaked around to cage your right thigh firmly to his shoulder. his knees dip on the comforters, pulling his boy's lower body up like he was challenged to lift a feather.

you quickly brought your hands up to take your headphones off, but leon suddenly spoke when you pried the muffs off your ears.

"keep them on." he cuts your actions off. the subtle demand of his tone says you're going to keep them on. he, somehow, reaches to turn the volume up on your headphones. you were puzzled, not knowing what he was aiming to do with such-

"a-aah!-" you yelped in utter surprise. a dribble of spit threads from his pretty lips and down onto your length..

he's hunched over as he takes your tip, then more in his mouth. he glances at your dumbfounded eyes, and you swear you could see him smirking to himself. but before you could think further, he was suddenly suckling onto your cock so firmly you started to squirm.

but that's why leon's holding you so tightly, so you can take it the way he needs you to~

you felt restricted. leon wants to steal your senses, inject pleasure in your veins like he were trying to fucking save you. he's beginning to get so hard that it makes him whine against your shaft, and he's so hard that you're making it difficult for him to think rationally.

"l-leonn! slow down!~" you cried without sense, which only urged his fingers pressing into your skin as he held you in place. he takes an inch further, his mouth working eagerly, making sure you can understand his carnal urge of making you cum with his mouth. "uh-uhh!-.... nghhh-hh..."

"mhmm..mmmm..." he hummed roughly, following with a soft growl as he slurped you up stupid. you kept moving. why were you moving so much? you were so sleepy just a minute ago.. oh, well; leon thinks. but is this man really oblivious to the fact that he can make you feel so, so good?

of course he wasn't. your erotic whines got louder and louder by the minute as your headphones disabled you from being conscious of your tone at all. your voice fell muffled upon your ears but leon was devouring it, using your moans and sobs as a motive to eat you up until you're heart-eyed. you couldn't even make sense of the music anymore as leon's mouth clouded your empty mind.

i'm gonna drown you in pleasure, baby.. leon thinks to himself while he's busy adoring you and the way your cock twitches onto his tongue :(

you were flailing slightly while leon went down on you, seeing you and your eyes struggling to keep open. he trails his left hand up and down your thigh, the sensation feeling a little ticklish. your chest rose and fell warmly, trying to reach out to stop him with a weak hand but he wouldn't let you and he feels (mildly) sorry. but it doesn't make him halt— he looks at you with sweet eyes that say 'please cum for me~'

you whined weakly at this, voice going raspy as you full on started to cry. you felt so vulnerable and so good at the same time and you trusted leon so much. you could feel it, could feel him about to siphon your orgasm out of you. just the way he wanted it..

the faucet began to spill and you were crying, the tears trickling down your cheeks messily and around your headphones, too. leon looked at you with mostly with affection, but also with a bit of sympathy. you must've had such a hard time, huh? he's so happy he can make you feel better..

"u-uhh, f-fuck, leon!! n-nno- nggh..a-ahh!-" you didn't even know what you were blabbering or retorting for anymore, but your hips twitched in his grip as you began to tremble within the fuzzy feeling of your orgasm. you were being such a pretty boy for him like this, all sensitive and crying after one minor blowjob. how were you going to handle the rest of the night like this?

it was hard to ignore his boner at this point. "mm..mhh, fuck- such a good boy f'me, huh?" he groans while he sucks on you at a slower pace, trying not to overwhelm you too hard (but still overwhelming you :( he's sorry, he swears.). "god, you're so cute.. but you have him so horny and frustrated now, what did you just do to this boy? he isn't frustrated at you.. but..

he isn't letting go of your thighs any time soon.

[perfeggso]

I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)

I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️

Genre: domestic fluff

Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten

Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.

Rating: teen and up

Length: 3.5k

My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.

“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,

“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”

You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.

When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.

Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.

“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.

“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”

Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.

“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.

“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”

Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.

“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.

This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”

Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.

Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”

You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.

“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.

“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.

Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.

“We’re getting evicted.”

You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.

“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.

Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”

What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.

“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”

Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”

You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,

“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.

Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.

“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”

The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.

“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.

“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”

And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.

“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.

Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.

“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”

“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”

“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”

Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”

You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.

“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”

It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.

“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”

You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.

“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”

Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.

“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”

Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.

“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.

“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”

“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”

Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.

“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”

“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”

“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.

“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”

Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.

“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”

Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.

“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”

Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”

“Says the former theater major.”

“Touché.”

You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.

“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.

Ten shrugs. “No promises.”

You sigh.

Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.

Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.

“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.

Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”

You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”

Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.

“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Sure.”

Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.

After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.

You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.

“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”

Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.

“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”

You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”

There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,

“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”

Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”

You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”

Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.

You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?

“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”

“Thanks.”

Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.

“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”

You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.

“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”

It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.

“Hey!”

“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”

You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”

“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.

“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.

“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.

“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”

[whumpschild]

Carson/ Tyler series crossover (Part 1)

@writehardwhumpharder

Carson hadn't expected a knock at the door, it was around 4pm in the middle of June and Daniel wouldn't be home until 7:45pm. He answered the door only to see a familiar face he hadn't seen since November of last year. It was Tyler, a guy who he had met in Oregon on an investigation about magical murders all over the country. His striking purple eyes stood out the instant carson opened the door as well as the large scar on his forehead.

“What the hell?” Carson said in surprise  “Why are you here? How the hell do you know where I live?”

“Riley told me.” Tyler said. If she’s gonna go handing around my information the least could do is give me some warning, Carson thought to himself. Just then his phone binged, it was a text from Riley saying she sent a special somebody over. The whole point of a warning is to tell me before something happens. Carson thought to himself.

“Well since you’re already here I guess you can come in.” Carson walked away, leaving the door wide open for Tyler to follow him.

“Thanks ya know,” Tyler said as he walked in ,closing the door and locking it behind him. “Are you still wearing pajamas? It's like 4pm ya know.”

“Eh, it’s the weekend,” Carson shrugged.

“Its Thursday,” Tyler corrected

Carson stopped in front of the couch and glared at him before sitting back down where he was sitting before he got there, “What’s your point?”

“I don’t have one.” Tyler usually was fully dressed and looking Presentable even on the weekends so he felt the need to comment on Carson's appearance.

“It’s kind of bad timing. I’m really busy today,” Carson sighed. Truthfully, he just felt a little uncomfortable and surprised.

“Really? What’cha up to?

“Uh…” He had to pause to think about it, he was sure he had something planned. Oh yeah, “Um, well, I was gonna have some tea later and maybe read a book…”

“Reading sounds cool, I don't like tea though, it tastes like grass to me.”

“Aren’t you like half-british?”

“No i was born and raised in America ya know, i just have the accent.”

“Coffee then?”

“You bet, could you put a lot of sugar in it?”

“Sure, whatever. Just sit down.”

 Tyler took Carson's offer and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

“You can find a book to read as long as you’re careful with it,” Carson motioned to the massive bookshelf behind him, full of a strange assortment of books. Most of them looked worn and old. Tyler's eyes lit up like fireworks as he speed walked towards the books, he looked like a kid in a toy store. A lot of the books were magic, something that wasn't often sold in bookstores in his small town in oregon. Tyler had driven all the way from Oregon to New York because he had been given a three week vacation after being promoted after a case. He drove because he hated flying at all costs, it took him four days to get there. But he really enjoyed all the things he saw on the way there.

Tyler picked out a thick book that had something to do with magic items and went straight to reading. There were lots of things like how wands worked or how you could draw effective Magic circles. Carson brought over a cup of coffee and handed it To Tyler. Carson looked over his shoulder and looked at what he was reading.

“The journals are my favorite. I got all these from Daniel’s shop,” Carson said without looking up.

Tyler got excited, he had never seen anything like this before and there somebody was, who had a ton of it. “Really? Wait do you live here alone or with daniel? I kind of had the idea you guys were roommates in addition to being good friends ya know.

“With Daniel, he’s just at work right now.”

“Oh cool,” Tyler stopped and pointed to something written in latin. “What is this? I don't think I’ve seen it before.”

“Well I don’t speak latin but I can tell one of the symbols involved is about heat. So I guess it’s some kind of spell for that.”

  “Could you teach me?” Tyler said setting his head on the back of the couch. “Ya know, how to do it?

“Personally, I manipulate heat by adding and removing life energy from a space. Can you move magic?”

“I’m not sure. Never tried.” 

“If you can see it I’m sure you can move it. It just takes a lot of practice and guessing.” Carson told him. He set down his book to give him his attention.

 “See what? Magic? You can see stuff like that?”Tylers curiosity peaked. He could sure sense magic and other psychics but not see it.

“Remind me, what are your powers exactly?” He needed a starting off point. Unfortunately, they were completely different kinds of magicians.

Tyler sat and thought for a second “Well I can see in people's minds, I can lift things and manipulate objects like a light pole or a cup. Oh if we had a small bit of something already burning, I could make it burn more, or snuff it out completely. “ Tyler paused and looked at the book. He had the power of a third eye but it wasn't fully in control yet so he didn't want to mention it.

“That’s basically like manipulating heat then. That’s how I make flames. I guess the real question is can you do the opposite and freeze something?”

“Hmm, Maybe if you gave me an ice cube in a cup of water i could make the whole cup freeze.”

“Give it a try. Kitchen is back there,” he pointed over his shoulder.

“Freezing something?” Tyler asked, tilting his head and shifting up his glasses.

Carson looked up at him, “Yeah. Let’s see if you can do it.”

Tyler got up off the couch and walked to the kitchen, “Which cupboards are your cups in?” 

“Left of the sink,” he called back.

Tyler grabbed a cup that was plastic just in case it broke, so it would be easy to replace, filled it up with water, and put an ice cube in it then walked back to the couch. Tyler set the cup on the coffee table and sat on the floor next to it and concentrated. He took off his glasses and hooked them on the neck of his purple T-shirt. He stared intensely at the cup and hovered his hands over it. It took a minute but in a quick flash the water froze from the ice cube out as it cracked the cup. It let out a light wave of cool air around Tyler's hands and Carson could feel it slightly. “I'm glad I got a plastic one, right?” Tyler said as his nose started a small stream of blood.

“Jeez, you could have mentioned you have no control over your powers. Here, if you get blood on the couch Daniel will kill me,” he forced a box of tissues in his direction. Tyler grabbed a tissue and put it over his nose. He then noticed how cold his hands had become even though it was summer.

Tyler continued trying to freeze things and melt things for the next few hours while Carson coached him then somebody walked in the door. It was Daniel. He looked a little tired but not too tired. 

Daniel set his things down then walked into the living room looking puzzled, “Hi Tyler. No one told me you were coming by but it’s nice to see you.”

“No one told me either,” Carson chimed in.

He sat down next to Carson then let his eyes trail down to the coffee table in front of him. It was littered with broken cups. “Uh… what have you two been up to?” Daniel perked up and started looking at the mess in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the trash can had been moved to next to the opposite couch. “What the hell is that? Carson, did you-” He looked like he was about to start a lecture.

“Carson is teaching me how to manipulate heat, don't worry about your cups. I'll buy more for you,” Tyler said, still sitting on the floor then leaning back and supporting himself on his hands behind him.”Wanna see?”

“Sure,” he said.

Tyler grabbed a cup on the table that had not broken yet with a half melted ice cube and did everything he was doing before. “Cool ya know?” his nose started to bleed slightly again but not as bad as the last few times where it took two tissues to stop. Carson again handed Tyler a tissue so he could wipe away the blood.

Daniel’s brows furrowed slightly with concern and he looked between Tyler and Carson. “Yeah, that’s cool. Maybe you should take a break.” He suggested.

“Why? It’s kinda fun to do it. I can melt it too.” Tyler said standing up he became slightly unsteady on his feet as his minor blood loss made him dizzy.

Daniel quickly stood and grabbed his shoulder, urging him to sit back down. “Like I was saying, I think it’s a good time for a break,” he subtly leaned over and started gathering the cups on the table to take away.

Carson perked up suddenly, “Wait a sec. Where did your blob go?”

“Blob?” Tyler was confused for a second “Oh yeah. Milo? I made him stay back in oregon. I'm on vacation ya know. I can't just bring my supernatural entities anywhere.”

“Oh, by the way,” Carson leaned toward him, “Don’t open that door. Daniel’s cat, Pixie, is in there so just… try not to die.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” Tyler said. “ speaking of dying.” He asked Daniel to grab him his backpack that he had with him by the couch. Daniel did what he asked as Tyler took out his inhaler and took it even though he wasn't wheezing.

“What’s that for?” Daniel asked. He remembered Tyler had asthma but he seemed to be breathing okay at the moment.

“Flare up, it's when, maybe for a few weeks at a time, it gets really bad ya know. I gotta take an inhaler every four hours.”

“Well good luck with that,” Carson said. “So how long are you going to be in New York?”

“Two weeks,” Tyler said as he suddenly realized what time it was. “Aw shit. I forgot to get a hotel,” Tyler said while putting on a light sweater and trying to get his stuff together.

“Two weeks?!” Daniel asked in shock, “What kind of supernatural threat is out there you need to be here that long? God damn.”

“None,” Tyler said “I got a promotion ya know.” Tyler said with enthusiasm. in his voice “ I got a three week vaction ya know.” 

“Congrats,” Daniel told him. “So what did you come all the way out here for if you’re not working? Don’t you hate planes?”

“I felt like it, I didn't really get a chance to go sight seeing when i was here last ya know?” Tyler said, shifting around. “Of course I hate planes, I drove here. You miss a lot if you take a plane ya know. It's not as interesting.”

“Sounds like hell but whatever, man.” Carson said.

Carson rummaged around the books left on the table and set some things aside, “So what’s for dinner?” He looked at Daniel expectantly.

“Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Tyler?” Daniel asked.

“Carson doesn't eat meat right? How about stir fry? I know how to make it with ramen noodles. On worry by the way after dinner i'll go find a hotel that takes in people at the desk.” Tyler got up from the couch, Daniel was ready to grab him if he fell, he was still slightly worried about his blood loss. "Come on I'll teach ya how to make it." Tyler said coaxing Daniel to get up. They both went to the kitchen as Daniel grabbed things Tyler asked for like broccoli, corn ,carrots and five packets of ramen. Tyler pulled all of his hair back into a bun and washed his hands. While Tyler was cooking Daniel was making sure to write down all of the steps to make this for future reference.

By the end there was a large pan full of stir fried noodles. Daniel never really made this much before and the amount seemed a little much just for the three of them . It made Daniel wonder how big Tyler’s appetite really was. They all sat down and started eating. Carson wasn't always the biggest fan of food but it actually tasted pretty decent to him. Daniel got the idea, since everyone is allowed to drink alcohol that he would bring out wine for everyone.

Daniel stopped to think for a second "Tyler, do you drink?" He asked. To him, Tyler didn't look like the kind of person that drank alcohol.

"Yep, Not beer ya know, it tastes like a sewer." Tyler replied. 

"I can agree with that." Carson said looking up from his food.

"It's wine," Daniel said, bringing over three cups. "How well do you handle alcohol? Carson's a light drinker so he gets tipsy pretty quickly. He's also kind of a light weight," Carson was a little offended by that comment. He wasn't that light of a drinker.

"How much do you weigh Carson?" Tyler asked.

"Around 145 pounds, You?"

Tyler's face turned slightly read like he was embarrassed. "136," He said, scratching the back of his neck. Tyler never went out of his way to not eat, in fact he had a very big appetite. It was just that when he worked he would frequently forget to eat. He would frequently go through periods of losing and gaining a normal amount of weight.

"Do you even eat dude?." Carson asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I do. I get distracted with work a lot. I got bills to pay ya know."

Carson moved his plate out of the way so Daniel could set down three glasses, “I picked a white wine, hope that’s okay with you, Tyler.” Once the glasses were full Daniel sat back down. “Carson wouldn’t eat either if I didn’t shove three plates of food in front of him everyday,” he shot him a look. Tyler laughed, these guys were entertaining.

Carson rolled his eyes but continued to poke at his food while Tyler scarfed down his whole plate at record speed. They were starting to understand why he cooked so much. He stared at the wine curiously and sniffed it before drinking. He had a strange habit of doing that with new things he ate or drank.  They ate and drank, Carson and Daniel found out quickly that Tyler couldn't hold in alcohol because his half british accent became more incoherent as he started to sound like a sailor. It got worse when he insisted that Carson would teach him some simple magic. Daniel grabbed a piece of paper and a magic book and set them down in front of Tyler.

“What’s that for?” Tyler asked as Daniel pulled out a marker.

“We're gonna draw magic circles,” Daniel replied, flipping through the book then pointing to a symbol on the page. “Try and draw this.”  Tyler took the marker and started drawing the circle on the page, it would be pretty accurate if the lines hadn’t been slightly shaky. 

“Lets see if it can actually hold magic” Carson said. Flipping his vision to see if there was magic being held in it. Little flakes of magic were floating around in it like dust so it would hold well enough.

“Did it work? Tyler asked, resting his head on the table.

“I don't know, did it?”Carson asked. Carson could see if it was working but Tyler needed to figure that out for himself. Tyler studied the circle for a minute looking at it trying to see what he could find. He decided to put his hand over it when a sudden tingly feeling like tv static came through his fingers. “That feels weird, I think it worked.” Tyler said. 

For the next hour or so. Carson and Daniel thought Tyler magic circles and how they worked and what they did. Tyler himself wasn't a magician , he was a psychic he dealt with more of a mental side but he was still capable of using it. Before he realised it it was around 10:30 pm. “Aw crap, I need to go. I still haven't checked into a hotel.” He said, grabbing his backpack and stumbling around before Daniel grabbed his arm.

 “Do you really think drunk driving is a good idea?”Daniel asked with full intention of keeping Tyler there for the night. 

“Good point,” he said  “But where do I go now?” Tyler asked, the fact didn't click in his drunk brain that he already had somewhere to stay. 

“Here, where else?” 

“Oh, I'll sleep on the couch then.”

“You can take Carson's room.” Carson perked his head up in annoyance, that was his room Daniel can't just give it away. 

“Won’t the couch do? Can’t I just sleep there?” Tyler asked Daniel, he didn't want Carson to be annoyed at him.

“Yeah Daniel, why can't he sleep there?” Carson complained

“Because i say so, he can’t stay in my room, Pixie's there. Your room is the only cat-free space in the whole apartment” 

Tyler just kind of sat there with Daniel still holding on his arm he was definitely buzzed because his brain felt like TV static. “Can I have my arm back now?” Daniel looked back and let go of his arm “Sorry man,” 

“Eh it's fine” They continued to sit around the table for a while talking about nonsense until they all got tired and went to bed, Tyler apologized to Carson for stealing his room as he only got a grunt as a response. Tyler sat on carsons bed and noticed a few bottles of pills; they were mainly bottles of antidepressants. He laid on his back and just stared at the ceiling, as he fell asleep the thoughts of other sleeping people rushed through him like he was used to.

--

Carson woke up around noon to find that Daniel was at work and Tyler was still sleeping. He had left the bedroom door slightly open so Carson could see him. He noticed that he tended to cough a lot in his sleep. He sat on the couch for an hour or so watching TV until Tyler finally decided to wake up and go sit on the couch with him and took a puff of his inhaler. Neither of them bothered to say anything, choosing instead to just focus on the show. They sat there quietly until Tyler stood up, grabbed some clothes, and asked if he could use the shower. Tyler took a whole twenty minutes in there, most of it was spent on his hair but he still took forever.

“I'm gonna go sightseeing, wanna come?” Tyler asked, coming out of the bathroom and putting on his glasses.

“Dunno,” Carson said from the couch with a sigh. He didn’t have any plans but he didn’t know if he wanted to go out either.

“I was thinking of going to Daniel’s bookstore. I’ll drive us...” Tyler suggested, trying to coax Carson into coming with him because he really didn't want to go alone.

“Fine,” Carson said. Tyler waited for Cason to get changed and ready to go. As he did, Tyler slipped his inhaler into his pocket and put on his purple converse. His hair tied in a bun which he always did in the summer. Tyler wore a short-sleeved white shirt and black cargo shorts that went to his knees. The shorts exposed a large scar on his right leg that he had gotten last November. Coincidentally, the last time he saw Carson before visiting.

After about ten minutes, Carson came out of his room in a button down shirt that he rolled the sleeves on to make it a little more appropriate for the weather. He slipped on his old grey converse that stopped just below the ankle. You could see Carson's mismatched socks peeking out. They walked down the hall and took the elevator down to street level. Tyler's car was parked around the corner at the closest available parking spot. As they walked Carson made a mental note to have Tyler park in the garage under their building when they get back. Tyler got behind the wheel then realized he didn't know where Daniel worked. “Hey, wanna drive? I don't know where he works and this city is huge.”

“Don't have a license,” Carson responded.

“Oh, why not?”

“It's not my fault, okay?” he said groaning, “Some idiot doctor misdiagnosed me and they took it for medical purposes. My lawyer is working on it.”

“That sucks ya know, sorry about that.” He said while turning on his phone and giving it to Carson. “Could you put in the address?”

On the way, Tyler took the time to admire the scenery every time he stopped at a red light. The buildings were huge. They towered over everything that would have been in Tylers town; the tallest building there would probably be the clock tower at the church. Several times Carson had to remind Tyler to keep his eyes on the road but his eyes couldn’t help but wander up the tall buildings, casting shadows over the road. It wasn’t long until they got to the bookstore and Carson directed him to park around back so they could avoid the meter. 

A little bell chimed when they walked in and Carson immediately started looking for Daniel among the mess of bookshelves. There were a couple customers walking around, minding their own business.

Daniel poked his head up behind the register, ready to greet who he assumed were customers. His brows furrowed with surprise,  “H- Wait, why are you here? Did something happen?” He asked, straightening up and walking around the counter to them. 

“Nothing’s up, Tyler just wanted to see the city.” Carson told him, “Of course I generously offered to be his guide-”

Tyler cut him off, “No you didn’t.”

Daniel laughed and led them to the back room knowing they would probably prefer to look at books in private, away from the other customers. Carson walked around the place like it was his second home, he knew where everything was including the secret stash of magic books. 

“You know, the cool thing about this place is that it isn’t just a regular bookstore. They specialize in rare, hard to find books. A lot of them aren’t even published, some are even handwritten by the authors. You never know what you might find,” Carson said proudly.

Tyler picked up a book and opened it to a random page, “Speaking of which, what the hell is this?”

Carson tilted his head to read the title, the ink was so washed out he could barely make out the letters, “Hmm, that one looks like a journal,” he looked over his shoulder to see that it was handwritten and pretty badly at that, “Yep, definitely a magician’s personal notes.”

“What’s this language?” Tyler asked.

Carson smirked, “English. Look closely.” 

Tyler squinted at the book. The words really were in English. “Why is the handwriting so bad? It's worse than mine.”

“Eh, I’ve read that guy’s stuff before. Pretty sure he was an alcoholic,” Carson shrugged.

Tyler studied the handwriting as much as he could because some of it was faded. It did seem similar to somebody's handwriting that was intoxicated or high. That is something he was frequently used to analyzing since he was a detective. He also noticed there were a few strange blotches of something on the pages too, it might have been alcohol. If it wasn't he didn't want to know. “Probably, look at the stains, it might be alcohol ya know.”

“Hey can I see that real quick?” He asked, pointing at the book in Tyler’s hands.

“Yea go ahead,” Tyler said, handing the book over to Carson.

He wasted no time opening it up and holding it close to his face. Carson sniffed it so aggressively it was like he was trying to huff the damn thing. “Spiced rum, the good stuff,” he concluded then handed it back to him.

“What? How the hell do Ya know that?” Tyler asked in surprise “That thing is like 80 years old!”

“How don’t you know? You’re a detective aren’t you?” Carson didn’t mean it as an insult, it just seemed like something worth knowing in that line of work.

“I have literally drank three times in my whole life I wouldn't know. I'm not a forensic.” 

“Sometimes I forget how young you are. Although that shouldn’t matter, I started drinking at 15.”

“That explains a few things,” he said jokingly and laughing. “I didn't drink until I was almost 23.” Tyler paused for a second and processed that Carson called him young. “Wait I'm not that young you're only like three and a half years older than me!”

“No way, you’re at least ten years younger than me.”

“I'm 23 not 16,” Tyler pouted.

“That’s not what I meant,” Carson clarified, “You’re 23 and I’m mentally, physically, and spiritually 34 if not 50.”

“Old man,” He said with a smirk. Tyler was probably a little immature because of the years he missed in a coma after a plane crash but he didn't want to admit that because he didn't want Carson to be right. “You do seem to have a lot of grey hairs ya know.” He said 

“Take that back.”

“I’m just kidding. You don't have grey hair.” Tyler could hardly speak for himself; small chunks of his hair were still grey from going overboard on his powers last November that he neglected to dye brown again. He was hoping Carson wouldn't notice since his hair was up in a bun but a small chunk was pretty clear from his bangs.

“What about that?” Carson asked, gesturing towards Tylers bangs.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Tyler said brushing at his bangs that were parted to the side.

Daniel laughed at the two of them while he worked around them. Tyler walked around some more, still fumbling with his bangs. He got lost in the bookshelves of old and newer books. He picked up books and pulled down the books he couldn't reach, levitating them with sheer will. He wasn't super aware of how people treated stuff like that in New York, good thing nobody saw him. He picked up a little black notebook full of notes and stuff it that was sitting on a table by one of the bookshelves “Hey this one is magic too right?” Carson walked over looking over Tylers shoulder. “I'm not sure it's real” Tyler said, “It doesn't feel tingly like the other ones.”

Carson stared at the book and smirked “That's Daniels ya twat,” he said mocking Tyler’s accent yet again as he grabbed the little book from Tyler's hand and stuffed it in his pocket and walked back to a little table in the corner. Tyler continued gathering lots of different books he decided  not to grab anymore as this much would probably cost 300 dollars.

He went to a table Carson was sitting at and threw down a mound of books from fantasy to sci-fi to magic and got to reading. He got lost in his reading, he had a very bad habit of zoning out anything and everything when he was into reading.

Carson just sat there and watched as Tyler practically molded his face to a book and darted his eyes around at a very fast pace. He was sitting there looking at his own books. A couple hours passed like that and when Carson eventually got bored he went to help Daniel with the shop. When he grew impatient, Carson tried to get Tyler’s attention. 

“Tyler?” Carson said looking up at Tyler who gave no response “Hey, four eyes,” he said a bit louder. It took Carson flinging a pencil at Tyler to get his attention.”Asshat” Carson thought into Tyler's head.

“Huh? What?” Tyler asked.

“Is this what you call sightseeing? We’ve been here for two hours.”

“Really? I thought it was maybe thirty minutes.” Tyler said, getting up and stretching. He grabbed his mound of magic and other books and took it to the counter that Daniel was sitting at. There were probably thirty or more books in that pile.

“Do you plan on starting your own library?” Daniel asked, starting to scan Tyler's books He noticed that Tyler seemed a lot more lively than when they had met the first time. He was probably drained and stressed out the whole time then but now, even the dark circles under his eyes had almost completely faded. This was how Tyler really was, a good kid. While he was 23, he acted a lot younger. Another thing he hadn't noticed before.

Tyler grabbed all of his bags of books and called over to Carson so he could get help bringing them to his car. He had to bring the books to the counter in several trips and he didn't want to take several trips to the car in 90 degree weather. "Ya coming with me or am I leaving you here? Tyler asked.

"I guess I'll go with you. I have nothing better to do." Carson said, tossing a bag of books into the back seat of Tyler’s little red car which had a lot of stuff in it like suitcases and backpacks. He shut the door and he got into the passenger side door.

"Do you feel like getting food? Have you eaten today? I haven't.” Tyler said, starting the car.

"I could go for some pizza I guess,'' Carson said as Tyler pulled out onto the road. As they were driving, a car pulled out of nowhere and Tyler had to slam on the brakes. 

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING YOU JACKASS!” Tyler screamed. It startled Carson more than the car because of how loud his voice was. He sounded like a really angry european. A street lamp simultaneously  bursted above them sending sparks onto Tyler's car.

Ah, not again. Tyler said swinging his head into the headrest of his seat.

“What? That car almost hitting us?”

“Yes, but no. I blew a street lamp again.” he said.

“You blew that? Do you have any control at all?”

“Apparently not.”

“You’ve had magic for a while now, right? You should have more control than that.” Carson said that thinking Tyler had had his power for at least ten years or so. 

“Two years, two and a half if you want to be precise.”  Tyler said, pulling into the parking lot of a pizza place and sat in the car for a minute. “After the plane crash I died several times before going into a coma, I didn't wake up with them but shortly after I got out of the hospital I managed to accidentally blow out the tv in my bedroom as well as other things like an old nebulizer and an entire bookshelf had all my books fly off of it when I wanted to get a book but didn't have the energy to go grab it. I saw a ghost for the first time, it was Milo just sitting there on my bed like he owned the place.”

“So the first ghost you ever saw was a cat?” Carson asked.

“Weird right? I didn't think he was a ghost at first.” The more tyler thought of it the more he realized he might have seen a lot of ghosts back at the hospital  but might not have noticed that they were.

“Well it’s probably less startling than a human ghost. Anyways, two years isn’t very long. Where did you get so much raw power?”

“I don't know where it came from to be honest, I kinda just woke up with it one day out of the blue.”

“Fair enough. I don’t know how this shit works either,” Carson shrugged.

“Seems pretty accurate, let's go in and get pizza, we can find somewhere to eat it after.”

Tyler and Carson walked into the pizza place. Carson had been there a few times so he was familiar with the menu. After about ten minutes they walked out with a pizza, half cheese, half Pepperoni and olives.

Though they were past the hottest part of the day, the heat didn’t seem to be letting up at all. The sidewalks were still packed with people so Carson suggested they get off the main road and head over to the park where there would be some shade. Despite living so close to the park Carson had only wandered in there a couple times. He wondered why it took Tyler coming to visit to get him out of the apartment. They walked around for a bit, Tyler holding the pizza box. They found a bench to sit at so they could eat.

“I didn't know places like this had little ponds.” Tyler said, looking to an empty part of the park where there was nothing but grass. Carson wasn't sure what Tyler was talking about or what he was looking at because to him nothing was there.

“This park is kind of known for its ponds and bridges but that patch of grass isn’t one of them, dude, what are you looking at?”

“What? Are you blind it's right in front of us.” He said resting his head on his hand and staring at seemingly nothing.

Carson glanced at Tyler skeptically and out of curiosity he decided to look with his magical senses. What he saw didn’t look like a pond but there was an odd concentration of magic there. Carson stood up to get a better look, “Oh shit, you’re right.”

A couple walking by gave them weird looks and walked a little faster to get away from them.

“Wanna see it?” Tyler asked Carson, perking his head up. Carson might not be able to see like him so he thought he might want to try.

“I don’t know what there is to see but I guess so.”

“Okay you need to look directly in my eyes, I'm going to look like I passed out but it's fine.”

“Uhh is this going to hurt?” Carson asked.

“No if it didn't hurt Jared you'll be fine, the worst that could happen is somebody's nose bleeds a little bit.”

Grimacing slightly, Carson agreed and looked into Tyler’s purple eyes. It took a second but Carson felt a spark of Tyler's magic before his eyes rolled back and he fell off the seat onto the grass, his blue rectangle framed glasses flying off his face. Carson just sat there for a minute blinking a few times before catching something in the corner of his eye. There was a small pond right in front of where they were sitting just like Tyler said. The water was clear and sparkly, it even had fish and a few frogs in it. There was suddenly a couple sitting on a bench that wasn't there before. It felt strange, almost like a dream. Carson didn’t have full control of his mind as he watched the couple with fascination. It was almost like seeing back in time. They looked so happy. Do all souls look like this to Tyler? He wondered. Carson wanted to get closer but he felt the connection wavering and the next time he blinked his eyes, they were gone. He had the distinct feeling of waking up, coming back to reality. He hadn’t even noticed that Tyler was on the ground next to him, seemingly unconscious. 

Tyler started to stir, and opened his eyes, he laid there for a second then stood up brushing himself off and putting his glasses back on. “Did it work? Did ya see?” he asked.

To his surprise, Carson was frowning. He seemed sad. “So… this is what you see. They looked just like people.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said, noticing the look on carsons face. “What's wrong did it not work that well?”

“We can’t leave them there.” He said suddenly. “Dead souls aren’t supposed to stay in the living world, it’s not right.”

“Do you have to take them now?” Tyler asked, staring at the bench where the couple were. Carson could no longer see them as people. Instead they appeared as plain little souls that were very faint to his eyes.

“Do you have a better idea?” Carson asked him seriously. He knew that Tyler saw spirits but he never questioned how he uses that power.

“I'll go talk to them, if they have to move on better give them a heads up right?” Tyler said getting off the bench and walking around the empty patch of grass where the pond was. Carson stayed a few steps behind him. Tyler stood there and introduced himself like it was all normal and explained who they were and what they were doing. It looked like he was talking and responding to thin air. 

Carson waited for Tyler to give him the go ahead then he approached them. He had to really squint with his magical vision to even know where they were. He’d seen recently deceased souls before but the couple’s were especially dim as if they had been there for a long time. Closing his eyes, he held out his hand and grabbed onto the souls. Before he could really do anything Tyler nudged his arm “At least tell them your name ya know, I would wanna know who's taking me to the afterlife.”

Carson put his other hand over his outstretched palm as if that would somehow keep them from hearing him, “And tell them what? Hi I’m Carson Hall and I’m the grim reaper here to send you to death. Have a nice trip?”

“Yes, straight to the point. These people already know they're dead.”

Carson rolled his eyes but did it anyway feeling incredibly stupid for talking to thin air, “Whatever. I’m Carson and it’s my job to send lost souls like yours to the afterlife.” Carson waited for a second while Tyler looked like he was listening to what they were saying.

“They figured this would happen.” Tyler said as he shrugged his shoulders.

Without wasting any more time, Carson knelt down and put his hand on the ground. Tyler could see the smoky shadow under his hand for a split second before it was over and they were gone. “Well this isn’t how I planned on spending my night.”

“Eh, adventure is fun when you're not dying ri-” Tyler screamed and it sent Carson into a fight or flight response. He looked around then back at their table “The pizza!” Tyler screeched. It was getting eaten by pigeons as Tyler rushed over there like he was the one in danger, not the pizza and shooed them away. He regretted running immediately as it made him out of breath. It was too late, the pizza was half gone.

Carson took his sweet time walking back to the bench, “Give it up man. It belongs to the birds now.”

Tyler sat there and pouted and took a few puffs of his inhaler before complaining. “I spent 15 bucks on that ya know,” he whined.

“Who cares? We’ll get more on the way back.” 

“I can't spend all my money on just pizza. I have about two thousand I can spend on this trip, most of that was for the hotel I planned.

“Why don’t you just use your powers to make money?” Carson asked him seriously, “Besides, you had $300 to spend on books this morning. Now you’re telling me you’re too broke to buy some pizza?”

“Good point, on both parts.” Tyler said grabbing the pizza box and shoving it into a nearby trash can. “What do you do to make money? You work at the station right? With Morris.”

“I’m a magical consultant, I don’t get paid shit for that. I make most of my money by doing side jobs.”

“What kind of jobs?” Tyler asked as he and Carson started walking back to the car.

“It’s pretty simple. I just find a rich person with an incurable disease and ask them how much their life is worth to them.” Carson didn’t even try to sugarcoat it. 

“Sounds hard, wish I had thought of that. I would have enough money to have you cure my asthma ya know,” Tyler said laughing that turned into a slight cough.

“Well it’s not like your asthma will kill you, right? I mostly help people with terminal illnesses.” 

“It could if it got real bad, but it has never gotten to me not breathing at all ya know, i've been taken in to the ER though, the staff knows my name how funny is that.”

“Sounds like a real pain to live with.” Carson commented as they got back into Tyler’s car. “They know my name too but not a good way.”

“How's that?” Tyler said starting up the car.

“You haven’t noticed? People hate magicians. At least they do here. The gangs really don’t help with our public image.”

“How bad is that hatred here? It's not so bad in my hometown. Since we are small, there isn't a whole ton of crime there up until recently.”

“I grew up in a small town,” Carson said bitterly. “Didn’t stop anyone from hating me that’s for sure.”

“Go ahead and talk about it, i'm the only one here ya know”

“Eh what’s the point. Everyone hated me and tried to kill me a couple times, end of story.” He said with a sigh.

“KIll you?! I-its okay i won't pry if you don’t wanna talk about it then don't if it makes you on edge.”

Tyler seemed like the one on edge but Carson took his offer, no reason to bring up the past now. “What about you?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“How do people treat me?

“Yeah.”

“I'm not sure, I know Ramin was sent  to keep me from killing anyone but other than that, people don't really care unless you hurt somebody.”

“What about highschool?” Carson asked for a split second forgetting that Tyler didn't have any kind of power in highschool.

“I didn't have any kind of power then, You wouldn't believe if I told you I was the athletic kid who always got into fights, I got along with people but I only had like two real friends.”

“Yeah, I'm not sure I believe that.” Carson said, letting out a small chuckle.

“It's true I have pictures of me on the soccer team in 10th grade. Winter was really hard to do sports since it was so cold so I stuck with just bowling.” Tyler paused and thought for a moment, “I've been suspended several times too, I got in a fight with this guy and he tried to take Jared’s backpack and my inalor so I couldn't fight back. I sucker punched that son of a bitch and got our stuff back. You wouldn't believe how much trouble I was in.”

“For defending yourselves?”

“No, I mouthed off to the teachers. Since the guy threw the first punch My mom wasn't too mad about that. I had to sit in a chair with soap in my mouth at home until I went to write an apology letter and personally apologize for mouthing off.”

“What did you say?” Carson asked. He never would have guessed Tyler was like that as a kid so his curiosity got the better of him.

Tyler took a breath and smiled. “You guys are a bunch of sorry bitches if you are defending the pathetic excuse for kids who can't fight without a handicap.”

Carson was surprised by how Tyler was almost completely contrasted with what he was like now. Carson can't really judge though after all he had killed his own classmate. He just couldn’t see Tyler being so aggressive, it seemed out of character for him. Carson just nodded awkwardly, not wanting to comment either way.

Carson didn't say anything but Tyler couldn't help but laugh. He started laughing a lot which triggered a short coughing fit that had him setting his hand on his chest. 

“You’ve been coughing like that alot, I'm not going to have to heal you again right?” Carson didn't want to use his magic unless he really had to. He has had to heal Tyler’s asthma once before it took a lot out of him but this time Tyler had an inhaler so it should be fine.

“No, I've been outside a lot today, it's normal.” Tyler said, clearing his throat. He saw a music store while driving. Maybe they had a keyboard there that he could get really cheap. “Hey do  you mind if we pull into this music store real quick? I wanna take a look around ya know.”

“Do whatever you want,” Carson said casually though Tyler noticed out the corner of his eye he seemed to be squirming a bit. 

“I won't be in long I promise, are you gonna wait here or come in with me?”

“I’ll come, no point waiting in the car.” 

 “Okay,” Tyler said, pulling into the music store parking lot and getting out of the car. “I still have to buy you guys new cups too I must have broken like 12 of them” 

Tyler and Carson walked into the music store. It smelled nice, like an old wooden house. “Welcome,” the cashier said as a little bell chimed from the two walking in the door. Tyler went directly to the area where the keyboards were. “Do you have any of these used, maybe under 70- dollars?”  The cashier brought him a keyboard that had a bit of dust on it. The keys were worn a little bit but it still worked. 

Tyler walked out of that store with a big grin on his face. They started driving back to Carson’s apartment, picking up cups and more pizza on the way. They arrived, Tyler bringing up a few magical books and his nebulizer in a backpack while carrying the keyboard. Carson had the pizza. They walked into the apartment and they both flopped on couches opposite of eachother. They felt like they did a lot that day so they both ended up falling asleep for about two hours.

[dearyams]

december 16, 1985

Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?

— It’s A Wonderful Life, 1946

[ day 1: love, actually, is all around ]

Today is Monday. Winter break has started but Mondays are still Mondays whether vacationing or not. Snowball or whatever high schoolers called it—basically the winter formal for ‘85—was the night before, the first winter dance for high school freshmen, and Mike didn’t attend. He didn’t see a reason to even though Lucas, Max, and Nancy kept trying to convince him otherwise. Even Dustin got on the floor and danced to a few tunes according to Lucas’ overly excited report on the night’s activities. It almost makes Mike wish he dropped by, but he couldn’t stomach hanging about in the corner watching everyone dancing and hugging and kissing when his heart drove away stuffed inside a packed box of Byers’ belongings in the back of a U-haul two and a half months ago.

Maybe Mike would have gone if he called up El and asked how she felt, even though they hadn’t talked in at least two weeks. Ever since the Wheelers visited for Thanksgiving, things between Mike and El have been a tad...awkward. He couldn’t tell who made their every interaction more tense than a trip wire but he knew he couldn’t absolve himself of all blame. He’d take accountability for his actions if he knew what he did that made El decide a break would be best for their friendship. For the first few days after Thanksgiving, Mike and El still talked but December came around and finals kicked Mike’s ass and calling El slowly fell off the list of most important tasks on the day.

Will still called though. Mike never hesitated to pick up the phone and send him a hello when he did. They still had a lot in common and Mike found it silly that he ever thought moving away would suddenly mean they can’t be friends anymore, but it seemed like a valid concern at the time. It was difficult coming to terms with distance as a barrier blocking him from the tactile friendship he grew up fostering, nurturing, and protecting for longer than he could remember. Mike quickly found he missed the way Will’s breath hitched on certain words, little notches in consonants that were swallowed by the static found in a phone call. He also missed that he couldn’t see Will’s face when they talked. He forgot how often he watched the other boy’s face to read his expressions and words far more than he would listen to his actual words. Not that he didn’t listen but...Will’s face said a lot in the glow of his eyes and the small upwards tilt of his lips.

And maybe Mike didn’t attend Snowball ‘85 because he tried to call the Byers residence Saturday night and no one answered. And maybe his imagination had him thinking that El and Will were out at a dance for their new school, having fun with strangers and mingling with people Mike only knew the names of from Will and El’s stories about their new school. And maybe, Mike just wanted an easy excuse for staying home alone as the rest of his family went out, so he could hide behind scribbles in his writing journal, painting phrases meant to echo the sound of his beating heart, hollow in his chest as winter chilled his mind.

So, it’s Monday. It’s cold, damp, and snowy, and the scarf Mike’s mom draped over his shoulders and the lower half of his face filters stingingly cold snowflakes from drifting up his pink flushed nose. He’s been sent out to grab eggnog from the shop downtown, the one Joyce used to work at in fact. Mike would have protested but his mom and Nancy agreed that since he stayed home all day yesterday, it was only fair he went outside himself for a short spell.

The bike ride is easy. His fingers are stiff on the handle bars despite the thick gloves protecting his fingers from the worst of the cold. The ice on the roads was cleared off early in the morning so he doesn’t skid very often making his way down the asphalt streets. Snow continues to swirl around him in a dainty breeze, peppering white specks in what hair peaks out from under his wool hat, making his hair look washed with bits of white as if he’s older than 15, which he only just turned a month ago either way. Mike’s mind wanders to his birthday party, the first one without Will since he turned 6, and he angrily grits his teeth and pedals faster. Various other snowflakes melt on his red freckled cheeks and sparkle on his lashes. Mike hums lightly and turn around a corner until he skids to a gentle stop at his destination. He hops off his bike, booted feet crunching against a thick pile of snow, and parks it before making his way inside the building.

Mike pulls his damp scarf from around his nose and mouth with a rough exhale. He snatches off his hat, shaking it off as he walks inside, and takes a hand to his hair in a messy attempt to make it look more orderly than before. Stuffing the hat in the wide pockets of his puffy snow jacket, Mike traipses toward the refrigerated isle. He keeps humming as he did on his bike ride, grabbing two cartons of eggnog and snatching a red and green container filled with candy canes he passes on his way through the nearby candy isle. The candy canes made him think of Will, who was always so eager to start eating the peppermint flavored treats once December came around. A tiny smile slips onto his lips as he stares at the goods in hand, remembering drinking eggnog in large mugs, chewing on candy canes and making eggnog mustaches that they would tease each other about as they imitated Hopper and his brutish tone.

“Is that all for you, Wheeler?”

Mike blinks out of his memories. “Oh? Yeah. Just picking up some eggnog for my mom.” He places the items on the counter and scrounges his pants for pocket change. “She’s been really on top of making sure we have everything for Christmas even though we’re still a bit over a week out. Just on Friday we went out shopping for a lot more food than I think any of us could eat. I don’t even know why we need more eggnog.”

“It’s never too early to prepare yourself,” the cashier takes Mike’s money and stores it in the register. “She could be preparing a surprise for all you know.”

“A surprise?” He takes the plastic bag passed along with a snort. “Yeah, my mom doesn’t really do surprises. Outside of presents but everyone knows those are meant to surprises.”

He gets a hum in response. “Well, enjoy your surplus of eggnog, Michael. Take care of yourself out there. The snow is coming down harder.”

Mike looks out the storefront window and sighs. “I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m biking through a blizzard.”

“You’re welcome to stay inside for a few and wait for the snow to calm down.” A soft smile dons the other’s face. “I can call your mom and let her know about your delay.”

“Oh,” Mike stares at his goods. “I don’t want the eggnog to get warm.”

“No worries; you can put it back in the ‘frigerator and I’ll be sure to remind you to pick it back up.” Mike nods slowly. “Let me call your mother now.”

He nods again, brow wrinkling as he puts the eggnog back. His hands only hold a plastic bag filled with candy canes. Mike pulls out the container and rips off the plastic to take out one of the cane-shaped candies. He walks back to the counter, hearing but not listening to the last dregs of the shopkeeper’s conversation with his mom, and starts to chew on a candy cane. He remembers when Joyce used to man the store and how she would let him and the boys jump up and sit on the counters during rainy days when she didn’t want any of them walking outside getting soaking wet. Sometimes Mike’s mom would stop by and say hello, chat with Joyce for much longer than she needed to if just to let Mike have a few more minutes with his friends before he was carted back home.

The memories are washed with the sweet yet strong blanketed taste of peppermint that fills his mouth thanks to the candy cane. Mike sighs and pulls the candy from his mouth, smiling to himself as he already sees he’s started to suck a sharp point from the tip. Dustin and Lucas loved to sword fight with the pointy end, which Mike found pretty gross since it was all covered in their spit but it was still fun in that typical boyish kind of way. He bites the pointy tip off and turned to look outside just in time for a bundle of cloth to barge its way through the doors as the snowstorm outside indeed gets stronger.

Mike belated wonders why he didn’t bother to check the weather, and then grows confused about why his mom sent him outside knowing the upcoming weather—she’s always on top of things like that so her kids don’t get sick. He turns to the intruder who’s interrupted his trip down snowy memory lane, and then unintentionally drops his candy canes once the figure uncovers enough of his bundled face. The candies break on impact but it’s a distant noise to the rush of blood pounding through Mike’s heart. All Mike would have to see is his hair, let alone his eyes—those always familiarly homey green-hazel eyes—to know exactly who stands before him.

“Will?”

The mentioned boy turns on his heel and then drops the scarf he had been untying from around his neck. “Oh my god, Mike!”

Mike can’t move; his feet seem frozen in place as if he’d been standing outside for three hours straight. Will makes his way forth, hat in hand and—oh, a haircut. Mike’s throat dries up but he manages to move his arms for a hug. Will’s warmth shatters the ice around Mike’s legs and he practically crumples into the shorter boy’s arms. He burrows his face in Will’s hair with a crooked smile. “What’re you doing in Hawkins?”

“Mom said we could come by and visit since you came up to see us last month.” Will pulls away with a wide grin that makes Mike’s heart climb up his throat. “I didn’t expect to see you here, though! What a coincidence.”

Mike looks over at the store clerk who is washing off the counter and acting as if she can’t hear their conversation. “Yeah, coincidence.” He turns back to his friend and places his hands on his shoulders. “You’ve grown even more already.”

Will shrugs. “Guess it’s my time to grow a foot in a year, huh?”

“Try me,” laughs Mike, squeezing Will’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “It’s great to see you, honestly. You left a big hole for us to try to fill.”

“Did you really try to fill it?”

Mike shakes his head. “Nah, not really. It’s a Will Byers shaped hole anyway. No one else could have it even if they tried.”

The warm smile that curls on Will’s lips sends Mike halfway into a hysterical conniption. How can he miss one person this much? How is his entire life so affected by the presence—or lack thereof—of one person? How did Hawkins as a whole feel so bleak without this boy? Mike didn’t think he grew this attached, but looking back on things, of course he did. Of course it was so obvious; now, if he can get a handle on how attached he is...

“I think you dropped your candy canes.” Will bends down to pick up the pieces and Mike, startled by the sudden action, ducks down to help as well. They both reach for the same piece, Mike’s warm fingers brushing against Will’s chilled ones, and their eyes immediately lock. Pink blossoms against Will’s soft cheeks and Mike is sure the same can be said for him.

“Sorry,” he whispers, snatching his hand away but Will reaches out. His hand is shaking, whether with the cold or the emotions racing his chest, Mike can’t tell but it’s a comfort either way. He stares at their hands, the slight tan of Will’s against the lighter pale tone of his own, pink at the knuckles and tips of his fingers. Mike has always been prone to easily flushed skin thanks to how pale he is, and while it was a bother when he was younger, right now at least, he likes seeing the difference between himself and Will, even if it’s not a startling difference.

Will’s thumb brushes against the back of Mike’s hand. “I’ve missed you a lot. You haven’t called recently.”

“I called on Saturday,” he blurts out, “but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh.” Will squeezes Mike’s hand and he looks up to see the other boy smiling as he watches their fingers. “We were on our way driving to Hawkins.”

“We?”

“Yeah, me, Mom, Jonathan, and El.” He looks up at El and Mike cringes slightly. Will’s hand stills. “Uh, I can go get her if you want to say hello?”

“No! No, this is...you’re fine.” Mike scrambles to gather his splintered candy canes and shoves them in the grocery bag as he stands. Will stands as well. “Don’t worry about that. We’re not...I mean we’re still friends but...”

“Yeah, I know.” Will stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks on the heels of his feet. He’s not slouching as much anymore and that brings a soft smile to Mike’s lips. “I just thought you might want to catch up with her.”

“Later. Later for sure but right now just,” Mike looks back outside and see the storm has gotten worse. He thinks back to the conversation with the clerk about surprises and ducks his head as he smiles. “This is fine, just you and me. I’m glad you’re here.”

He feels something brush his hand and turns his gaze to Will’s fingers dancing against his hand. He turns his palm up and blushes when Will goes for the plunge and holds Mike’s hand in his own, their fingers slotting together with the ease of matching puzzle pieces. Mike looks up but Will isn’t facing him, though he doesn’t need to see Will’s face to know he’s happily blushing, too.

[help-its-a-dot]

Alright so when I took this job they said all I had to do was narrate. You know, just follow this guy around and relay what he’s doing, make it sound interesting, yada yada yada.

Ok now that I say it out loud I realize that I’ve probably looked like a stalker for the past few days.

Fun.

ANYWAYS I was going somewhere with this; I had a point. Right. My point was that I didn’t think I’d end up in the middle of a burned down park, cowering in absolute terror behind some rocks that I really wish were bigger, and longing with all that's left of my heart that I could be one of those people that are, given the situation, naturally sprinting away whilst screaming at the top of their lungs.

Should I run away? I mean, it seems like the more logical option here; If I could get over that bridge, then I’d-

*bridge disintegrates*

Well there goes that.

Looks like I’ll be narrating then! Yippee. So, I should probably warn you, I haven’t exactly been paying attention to my assigned main character, ergo I don't have that much background knowledge. Oh who am I kidding, I have none.

Anyhow, sorry, I know I should be narrating. I’m getting to that. Background knowledge. What do I know?

Uh, actually nothing much happened to this dude. A few weeks ago he found a dead body in his bathtub. Now that I think about it, that’s probably where I should’ve started paying attention….

Ah, fucked this up, didn’t I.

Also, as a side note, I’m gonna be calling this dumbass Jake because my dumbass kind of sort of didn’t ever really at all catch his name.

Alrighty folks! I’m gonna…. Be brave…. And peek out from behind these rocks…. Did I mention how much I wished they were bigger? 

Ahem. *clears throat*. Narrator voice. *nods decisively*. Lets go.

There’s fire everywhere. On the tops of trees like snow at the peaks of mountains (how are there even still trees here) bushes have morphed into bonfires, while patches of grass are practically leaking little flames like a dope game of ‘the floor is lava’.

Jake stands, looking at the devastation with wide eyes. Smoke billows out into the sky, painting the already grey clouds black.

A deafening crash sounds behind him- you know, the kind you get when a boulder squishes a four story building like it’s a three year old’s structure of off brand legos. He’s thrown to the ground, and waits, breathing heavily.

Aw god why did I forgot my flask of vodka today? I freaking need it.

And as if that weren’t enough, a spaceship just blipped into the sky.

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Sorry, sorry, I’m not very good at this narrator thing. In my defense, I didn’t think they were serious! Alright, I’m gonna try that again.

Suddenly, and quite literally out of nowhere, there’s a fatally blinding blue-red light, making everyone in the immediate vicinity-- which isn’t that many people anymore, most have used their last few remaining drops of common sense and fled for their lives --squeeze their eyes shut and hastily bury their heads in whatever was nearest and most convenient to shield themselves from impending blindness, wailing in a mix of surprise and agony. All flames previously terrorizing the verdure are extinguished and the smoke is blown out as a single gust of forceful wind, which also effectively topples the few remaining, yet charred nonetheless, trees, buildings, and people.

Augh, ew, eurgh, I got a mouthful of Martin’s grocery bag. How do I know it’s Martin’s? They have a distinctive taste of mild sadness and resignation. Right, right, the spaceship. 

See, when I say spaceship, I mean cool looking flying saucer thingy appearing like it was plucked right out of a conspiracy theory and given some upgrades. It’s a giant, azure/ultramarine blue, except for the bottom which shines in a weirdly mesmerizing yellowish glow, squished sphere. Oval. Pancake. Sorry, I don't know my shapes. It seems to be practically thrumming with energy, like it drank five red bulls followed by ten extremely caffeinated coffees and finished it all off with a few five hour energy drinks. 

I cannot tell you how much I hope it doesn't do what it looks like it’s gonna do and explode.

Meanwhile, Jake has picked up… a sword. Well shit. Medieval, much? Not a gun? No? Personally, I think a gun would be extraordinarily effective against the horde of what looks like blobs but are probably extravagantly dangerous aliens filing in a weirdly orderly single file line out of the saucer and immediately beginning to lomp closer and closer and closer crap did I mention they were getting closer?

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Hold up, no, that reminds me, I’m supposed to be narrating. God, I’m atrocious at this, aren’t I.

He feels sweat break out on his brow. The sword is heavy in his hands, and he can barely lift it, let alone decapitate a blob, but he’s in too deep to let his weariness show. He’s gotta be strong and save what’s left of these people, this city, or die trying. Which is probably what’ll happen in a few minutes. But ah, well, he’ll die fighting for Americanos , which can’t be all that bad.

Technically, if you think about it, he’s suicidal, because his colossal ego will not, quite literally, for the life of him, allow him to take a smart route, like getting into that convenient truck and bowling over all the blobs, or snatching up a gun from that store across the street, or even just alerting someone who is actually capable at dealing with an event like this like the authorities.

But what can he do, he is American, after all. It's simply unavoidable; part of the culture description. *white people i swear

He watches morbidly as Martin’s grocery bags blow past from the ruins before him, and glances up as the spaceship above him gives one final thrum and blips away, probably back to wherever it came from, leaving him alone with an army of blobs bouncing threateningly towards him.

In truth, he didn’t know what they were. All he knew was that if they kept destroying everything at this rate, there won't be a single McDonalds left in America, and he couldn’t have that. Of course, by then there wouldn’t even be an America, and everyone would have to go to the McDonalds’ in Russia. Russia has McDonalds, right? Oh, he simply could not do that to his fellow citizens! 

He pondered this, along with whether or not Australia exists, all the while counting down the seconds (...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… dammit 3, 2, 1… 3, 2, 1… 3, 2-- he’d get it eventually) until his doom and willing his arms not to shake with the incredible weight of the sword in his hands. Whose idea was it to make swords out of metal, anyways? It’s incredibly stupid-- nowadays 90% of America wouldn’t even be able to muster the courage to touch one, let alone the strength to lift one. 

Ugh, he knew he should’ve gone with that plastic light saber he’d seen at the mall. At least then he could’ve gone down with style.

As if on cue, there’s another, at this point expected, crash resounding behind him, and he turns to watch in despair as said mall tumbles almost comically to the ground. 

There goes the light saber.

And another McDonalds.

Ohh, things were getting bad.

The park, if you could still call it a park, is deserted now save for the occasional Martin’s grocery bag skittering about, and he can’t help but give in to the desire to reflect upon his life. He wasted it, playing video games and other shit like that all day, every day. This is the first time he’s been outside in a long time. He now knows with absolute certainty that if he were ever granted such an opportunity he’d go back and redo it all. He’d try harder to beat that level, he’d get the better controller, he’d stay up later working on his technique. But all that was a distant dream now, something he could not hope to accomplish now.

He wished that maybe, just maybe, heaven would have a nice game console for him.

When he’d gotten selflessly sucked into this adventure, he never thought he’d actually die, never expected anything to really happen- If he had, he of course would never have turned the power of his last 8 braincells away from a computer screen and into the real world to start investigating.

Ah fuck, sorry for interrupting, I think I twisted my wrist or some shit while trying to get a better vantage point on these still too small rocks. 

Should I run?

I should probably run.

On a different note: I’m really sorry guys. When you take a narrator job they never tell you anything about your person. Had I known he was American, I would have immediately sabotaged this entire thing; I could never in good conscience have subjected you guys to.. well.. this.

But alas, now I’m stuck narrating an American who is going to get me killed.

Unless… Unless there’s a loophole. My parents were lawyers, so I excel at finding those.

The rules are, you have to stay with your hero and narrate their adventure. How an American turned out to be one of the heroes, I know not, it must be a glitch in the system. But I’ll be fucking damned if this glitch gets me killed. Literally. So! Once the hero, inevitably, dies, you’re free to go. There’s nothing much left to narrate afterwards. And since Jake is closer to the horde of blobs coming our way than I am, as soon as he’s bowled over I’ll sprint. To the side, like a smart immigrant would do. Not straight back, because then the blobs’d just follow me and kill me, so the only logical conclusion is to circle around them and see if my apartment is still intact. I didn’t finish my cream puffs and I really don't want them to melt.

They’re getting closer. He can hear their squelching, and the chicken nuggets in his stomach churn unpleasantly. There’s bits of goo flying off them in all directions, and when said goo makes contact with something it immediately disintegrates that unfortunate something, leaving nothing behind. Is this really the fate that’ll befall him? Is this how the world ends?

Well, death by disintegration it is then. Oh, he can’t wait to brag to his boys about this.

Oh, wait, no, that’s not right. He’ll be dead.

And, in the last few moments before the blobs reach him, he reconsiders. There’s still so much this cruel world has to offer, and he never took advantage of any of it. Nor was he ever grateful for much of it. 

He suddenly feels a new feeling. Determination. He will destroy every single one of these vile creatures, and he WILL come out of it intact. He has to. 

With new resolve he scrapes together the last of his strength and raises his trusty sword over his head, every nonexistent muscle tense, ready. They’re getting closer. Closer. 50 yards. 30 yards. 20. 10. Just a few feet.

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes dramatically. Swings his sword.

And is immediately squashed with the most sickening squelch there could ever be.

Ew.

Should I run?

I should probably run.

Yeah, I’m gonna run.

[fionn-n-harry]

One Night

Fionn meets a girl at a party and he is absolutely mesmerized.

Part two maybe? ALSO I FORGOT FIONNS CUTE ACCENT IN THE WAY HE TALKS IM SORRY NEXT TIME

Inspired by Palace/Curse by The Internet

Warnings:Drug/ alcohol mentions, cursing, mentions of sex

Fionn doesn’t know how he got here. He is dancing between two girls, one pushing into his bum the other grinding into his pelvis uncomfortably.

He’s sweaty and feels constricted in his current position and wants nothing more than to push them off. He’s really never been to a party before.

Fionn feels the rush of alcohol in his veins and it doesn’t persuade him to adjust to the situation. He just becomes more irritated each second as he tries to let loose, but he can’t.

His hands fly up in frustration and he pushes himself out of the sandwich. In response the women grab at his arms yet he continues pulling away and pushes through the large crowd of dancing people ready to find his friends and demand them to take him home.

Yet he can’t find them and stands on the coffee table for leverage to look out into the sea of sweaty and drunk people.

“Can I get a hell yeah!” The DJ yells which catches Fionn off guard and he flinches bringing his hands over his ears.

“Hell yeah!”

He feels someone tugging at his pant leg and looks down only to see a girl about his age looking up at him with the most caring look and Fionn really needs it.

He removes his hands from his ears and he feels the tension in his face calm.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?” She shouts over the music,“Get down, we can figure it out.” She extends her hand out to him and he grabs it stumbling into her as he gets down.

She smells nice for someone who came to a house party like this. He can’t help but wonder what someone who looked as innocent as her was doing here but she pulls him over to a couch, away from all the alcohol and weed that is being passed around.

When he sits down the room is spinning and he is finally convinced he has had too much to drink. He’s slouched on the couch arms lazily falling on each thigh as his legs are spread open.

She kneels between them before talking loud enough for him to hear.

“Can I do anything for you? You look really bad?”

He goes to speak yet when he does he feels like vomiting and the girl is quick to move out of the way and grab the ziplock bag full of straws on the floor before handing it to him.

He lets it all out in front of her, he doesn’t even try to do anything to disgust her less.

When he is done though, he is disgusted by himself and expects the girl next to him to cringe. Yet she hasn’t shown any sign of that and looks like she’s more worried than the mix of whatever he drank earlier and his lunch.

Fionn reaches for the plastic bag under his foot and drops the ziplock bag in and knots it tight before sliding it near the couch and falling back to his recent position.

Things get really hazy for him now and the music is a blur. He has an easier time focusing on the texture of the couch than the DJ yelling obnoxiously into the mic.

He feels her touch on his neck and practically melts into it. He hates being touched, but this is different. Fionn goes out to reach for her hand and holds it in his own.

She’s confused and he knows. It makes him smile, yet he just wants to hold her hand because he wants to touch her and this is probably the closest he can get because he doesn’t want to cross the line.

“I’m Fionn.” He whispers into her ear.

She squeezes his hand,“I’m Y/N.”

He watches as her lips move to make her name and then back to her loving eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Fionn breathes out completely mesmerized by her entire existence.

She gets flustered and he can tell he’s made a mistake because she looks uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“No,“She starts,“It’s okay. You’re just drunk and you know-”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t consider you gorgeous.” He states matter o’ factly.

Fionn peels his eyes off her for a second and he sees his mates taking shots off the kitchen counter. He sighs.

“Your friends?” She guesses and Fionn nods to confirm her suspicious.

They sit still for a while watching as the people dancing start to gather closer to them and now practically everyone is tripping over them.

“Hey,” she whispers in his ear which send shivers down Fionns’ spine,“There’s a room upstairs. It’s my friends brothers room since they still live together. He’s out of town and she leant me the room if I needed for tonight.” She says picking with the hem of her dress.

Fionn gets it’s now, she’s only here because her friend wants her to get laid and frankly Fionn isn’t up for it, he doesn’t want to bone someone who clearly doesn’t want to either. He’s drunk yet he can get that straight.

“I don’t want to have sex with you.” He says.

“What?- No, no,” she laughs,“I got the room for that reason but I wasn’t planning to use it like that. You could go lie down, that’s what I meant.”

Fionn’s eyes widen,“Oh, oh. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to just-”

“Yeah yeah.” She says to him trying to move on,“Do you want to lay down?”

His head moves against the back of the couch and then finally he nods in approval and she pulls him up and hooks an arm under his shoulder to help him walk straight.

Fionns’ head is a pounding mess and the music doesn’t help.

She pulls a key out from her bra and opens the door and Fionn wobbles in, falling straight onto the soft mattress.

Y/N doesn’t turn the light on and Fionn is grateful. It’s like she knows.

She shuts the door behind her and he hears her laugh in the dark. Her laugh is like his favorite song tonight.

Fionn snuggles into the pillow and shuts his eyes. He would love to admire her more yet it’s so dark he can’t even see her.

He hears her though, she’s shuffling around the room until he hears a thump and sees light from the night sky through the window. She sits in front of it and just stares out. There isn’t much to look at but she sits there and just watches the trees, the other still houses and the cars that would rarely pass by.

Fionn is practically asleep but he hears the door open and shut after a couple of seconds.

He opens his eyes and sees she’s gone.

Fionn wakes up and he feels disgusting. His eyes are heavy and he never wants to get up, but he has to of course.

He runs a hand through his hair before pushing himself off the bed and out the bedroom door.

It reeks, and people are sleeping in the hallway and it leaves Fionn surprised, believing that only happened in the movies.

As he walks down the hall he remembers the girl he met last night. Y/N. Everything but her is foggy and he really hopes they didn’t do anything because she seemed too nice to even touch that way.

Fionn sees his friends on eachother, all huddled together on one couch and he shakes his head. No one could take him home. He would need to take the tube, and he felt like a fucking mess.

He opens the front door and pushes himself out groggily.

Fionn is ready to leave the area but he sees her sitting on the lawn to his left, knees up to her chest as she looks up at the sky.

“Hey.” Fionn says softly approaching her.

She looks up in his direction startled yet smiles when she sees his face.

“Oh, Fionn.” She waves a cute little wave at him before he sits down next to her, “How did you sleep?”

Fionn pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket and takes one,“Alright considering I was pretty much out of it.” He says reaching for his lighter in the other pocket.

“I’m surprised you remember me.” She chuckles.

I remembered you because you are memorable Fionn wants to say.

He presses his lips together around the cigarette and attempts to light it, struggling to turn it on.

Y/N takes the lighter from him and crawls in front of him.

He notices the small wrinkles around her eyebrows when she concentrates and the way she bites her lips to focus on the task.

He wants to kiss her. But he shouldn’t. And he doesn’t.

“These are bad for you, you know.” She tells him once she lights it herself and hands him light.

He laughs,“Why’d you light it?”

She sits in front of him and shakes her head,“Because I wanted to help you.”

Y/N pulls his hand that is holding his cigarette away.

“What?” Fionn asks sticking his head closer to her dumbfounded.

“You have a mole. It’s just cute.” She states reaching out to stroke his chin. Y/N notices how odd she sounds and stands up and creases her eyebrows,“I’m sorry.”

Fionn stands up and takes one more drag before dropping it to the ground in which she steps on it in response,“Its alright, it’s okay.”

She crosses her arms and looks down at her shoes and up at Fionn.

“You’re beautiful.” He slips out and she looks up at him nervously.

“You know it’s a lot scarier when someone says that sober. You don’t know their true intentions.”

Fionn shrugs,“Yeah well, I just wanted to tell you so you know I mean it when I’m sober and when I was drunk.” He’s so awkward and he doesn’t know if he has struck himself any points.

She smiles and Fionn swears he has never seen anything better.

Y/N cups his cheek and leans forward, to Fionns’ dismay, kissing the corner of his mouth, yet the contact between her lips and his skin is enough for the both of them.

“I should go. I told my uber to wait up the block. Gave him the wrong street.”

Fionn is disappointed she is leaving. She was so caring and he wanted to return the favor. But she turns around and waves at him again and grins before she strides down the sidewalk.

Fionn wants to run to her and grab her and tell her she was the most capturing person he’s ever met. He doesn’t want to let her slip away and he doesn’t want to stop admiring her but it’s too late. He’s out of his thoughts now and she’s gone.

He walks back into the house and kicks a plastic cup littering the floor is absolute in frustration.

“You’re into Y/N?” A girl seated on the couch by the window asks. She is probably hungover too, her words come out slower than they should.

“You know her?”

The girl laughs and he notices that girl was one of the ladies he had danced with the previous night.

“Of course I know her. She took you up to my brothers room.”

Fionn hates this conversation but just nods,“Yeah she did.”

“You didn’t sleep with her right?”

“What?” Fionn is taken back although he should have expected it. It scares him to think Y/N sleeps with multiple people whether it’s true or not,“No. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I was drunk.”

Her friend smiles,“Good. Her number is on my fridge, just for emergencies. Put it to good use.”

PART TWO

[eddiekasp]

Must Be a Better Word- Ch11

Love. There must be A better word. -Adam Gillon My loves @stanleyuriis and @eddiesbadbreak helped me come up with some HCs about Richie and his home life so... its about to get angsty :^) Also on ao3! 

Eddie sat in his bed, his two blankets covering his legs up to his belly button and his back leaning on the headboard. The adjustable lamp that sat on the nightstand on the right side of his bed illuminated a small circle of his white sheets, set to the lowest brightness as he told his mother he would be going to sleep nearly 40 minutes ago already. He felt warm; the room was shadowy and dark save for the small golden ring coming from the side. He was wearing to sleep a shirt that was far too long to be his own-- a shirt Richie had left at his house accidentally four days prior.

On his lap on top of the blanket sat the notebook Eddie had found in Richie’s closet, abandoned and nearly lost forever. Eddie felt like it had to have been more than a coincidence that he asked to clean Richie’s room that day. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have the notebook. Richie even let him keep it, happy to see how happy it made Eddie. Eddie just felt lucky.

He had read it so many times through now that he was convinced he could recite it. Eddie had gotten pretty good at memorizing lines of text. Richie starred in many roles in school productions (just last month he played Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast; Beverly did costumes and makeup and Eddie came every night of the show. Richie had pressed the flowers Eddie brought him into a book) and it was always Eddie’s job to help him practice his lines. They’d sit on Richie’s floor, Eddie reading the lines monotonously, making Richie laugh, while Richie reenacted the scene in front of him, gesturing extravagantly and pretending to hit himself on the head with a frying pan like in a cartoon (sounds effects included) when he forgot a line.

Now, the lines in front of him would not be able to bring forth any feeling of monotony. A lot of the pages, some about him and others which were Richie’s writing or doodles, made Eddie wanna spin around in his room or jump up and down or something silly like that, but instead he held the back of his hand up to his mouth, concealing the smile that bloomed on his face from himself.

Others, though, really… worried Eddie. He thought about asking Richie about them-- jokes about his mother and her problem with drinking, or how his father knows anything about him or WANTS to, how he feels like his family totally doesn't give a shit about him-- 8 or so pages like these written as rants or masquerading as funny jokes. But he didn’t know if it was his place. Although Richie had given him the book, Eddie wondered if he remembered those entries were written amongst the many pages of lighter fare. Plus, this was years ago… did Richie still feel this way?

He figured he must have, since Richie had Eddie over at all hours of the night and his parents said nothing. Not to mention the fact that Richie almost never brought up his parents, and if he did it was only to Eddie in a very quick and biting comment. And he knew Richie didn’t drink.

But then he began wondering, and this wondering didn’t stop until he did something about it. If Richie feels ignored and not cared about, Eddie had to do something about it. The thought of him ever feeling that way made warm tears prick in the corner of his eyes if he thought about it for too long.

So Eddie pulled the covers off of his bed, duelly reminded of how much he wanted to talk to his boyfriend after getting a small remembrance of his cologne that stuck like old stickers onto the shirt he was wearing. His heart felt warm, how it felt when he hugged Richie, and he tiptoed quietly into the hallway where the phone was.

The floor under him felt cold on his adjusting toes. He cursed (as he had at least 5 times a week) that his mother did not trust him enough to put a phone in his room. He had mastered the art of closing his door lightly as not to alarm his mother of him running away, and thanked fuck that their old curly-wired home phone in the upstairs hallway had retired from use two years ago, forcing her to get a cordless home phone. He’d sneak into the hallway quickly, the pads of his small feet barely hitting the floor beneath him, snatch the phone up and run back to his room.

He would talk to Richie with his window open, leaning out in that direction because that was the most likely way his mother wouldn’t hear him. Now, though, it was past midnight on the first week of March. Eddie already had Richie’s gift wrapped and hidden in his clothing drawer. Eddie loved March, loved how happy Richie got when they’d surprise him with cake and gifts on his birthday, loved how cold it was besides the 4 layers of shirts his mother made him wear, but now he worried he’d catch a cold leaning out the window in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his underwear.

Eddie bounced slightly up and down, convincing himself he was creating some body heat, and hoped that he wouldn’t be waking Richie up from sleeping. It was a school night, and he supposed the conversation could wait until third period when Richie had class and he didn’t and they could sit in the empty auditorium and do whatever. But Eddie felt like he had to talk to him now.

On school nights, Richie was usually doing one of two things: sleeping, as he had been the second he walked into the house and taken his red converse off, or saving sleep for that beautiful three-hour period between 4 and 7 am so he could finish up procrastinated homework and could be found at 12:43 at his window as Eddie was now, maybe smoking a cigarette or maybe just feeling the cool air on his warm cheeks.

Although Eddie hated when Richie didn’t get enough sleep, he’d feel even worse if he would be interrupting him if he’d already passed out. Richie and Eddie talked on the phone late at night at least every other night, but it was almost always planned and usually not this late. It was rare for Eddie to stay up past 11.

He typed the memorized number onto the plastic-y buttons of the handset, the familiar song of the buttons in that exact order echoing in his ears as he put the receiver to them. After two rings, not Richie’s voice but his father's.

“Who’s calling this late?” a deeper voice said, not angry but definitely stern.

“O-oh, hi Mr. Tozier. It’s Eddie… Richie’s friend. I’m sorry for calling so late it’s just-- is Richie asleep?”

“Not sure.” Went pulled the phone away from his face and Eddie heard a vague calling of “Richard! Pick up the phone,” and then a click as he exited the only conversation he had ever had or probably would have with Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie heard a breath flow into the speaker of his phone before hearing the familiar, “Hey, Eds!” Eddie could tell he was wide awake, he just noted that his father hadn’t bothered to say it was too late to be talking on the phone. “Why ya calling so late? Did you miss meeeeee?” Richie said gleefully, making kissy noises into the phone.

Eddie felt any stiffness in his back that kept him sitting up straight start to melt as it always did when Richie talked to him. He could just relax.

“Of course not, you nerd. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Isn’t that kinda like the same thing?” Eddie could hear Richie’s upturned smile weaving its way into his words through the phone. Eddie could always hear Richie’s smile just as much as he could see it. It made him smile, too.

Eddie laughed at his question. “It might be.”

Richie laughed too. “Well, you know I always mish you when we’re apart, shweetheart.” His Humphrey Bogart impression had gotten a bit better since he was 12; his voice getting deeper helped a bit. “I really did though! In fact, you should come over. I don’t feel like doing homework anyways.”

“Rich, we have school tomorrow,” Eddie sighed into the phone. Honestly, he wish he could have gone over.

“Yeah, but so what? We can sleep in through first period, and you know I can forge a pretty good late pass.”

“If my mom sees that I’m gone on a school night she’ll really think I ran away this time. She’s already flipping out on me that I’m never home anymore.” Eddie contemplated how he felt on what was happening between him and his mother. “I mean, of course it’s probably better for me this way. I feel bad for hurting her though, yknow?”

“I get it, but you know she’s the worst Eddie. Like, honestly you shouldn’t have to feel bad. The only thing you should be worried about in regards to her is making sure she takes her Plan B after I leave in the morning.” Richie whooped into the phone and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Very funny, dumb ass.”

“But I’m being serious. She treats you like shit and she’s a huge bitch to you. I know I shouldn’t say that about my future mother-in-law, but you of all people should know she’s… kinda the worst, dude. Honestly, I don’t think you’re obligated to treat her well at all. She makes you feel bad, which means she’s a bad person. So don’t feel guilty.”

Eddie felt that same hot redness flush across his skin. “Mother-in-law?” he chimed, passing in a sly comment to cover up his heart beating in his throat. He smiled. “What makes you think I’d marry you, huh?”

“If you said no to a proposal from the Richie Tozier, you’d be the biggest idiot alive.”

“I guess it takes one to know one.”

They laughed at the same time, Richie unabashedly booming through his room while Eddie had to remind himself what time it was and cover his giggles into the palm of his hand. There was a silence, comfortable and warm, broken by a cough coming from Richie.

“Are you smoking out your window right now?” Eddie said, picturing the boy leaning his elbow on the window sill, phone trapped between his ear and shoulder as he flicked ashes onto the grass below his window. A position his brain had memorized.

“You know me so well! Yeah, I… I’m actually on my second pack in the last two days,” Richie said guiltily. He knew Eddie didn’t mind him smoking, (as long as it wasn’t near him; it sometimes made his asthma bad) he just worried it'd hurt Richie's lungs. Eddie knew how much it sucked to have problems breathing. Eddie had actually been doing a decent job on persuading him to try and smoke only 1 cigarette a day and Richie even found himself skipping days altogether when he had been feeling really happy. Eddie wondered what had happened.

“Is… something wrong, Richie?” Eddie furrowed his brows, starting to worry.

“Well, uh.” Richie paused, taking in another breath and clearing his throat. Unknown to Eddie, Richie had put his cigarette out and took the back of that hand to wipe his eyes quickly. He didn’t continue speaking.

“Richie, is it… your parents?” Eddie’s heart sped up, but for the wrong reasons.

Richie nodded his head before remembering Eddie couldn’t see him. “Uh, sorta. Yeah.”

Eddie checked the clock again. Almost 1. Richie had been right, though. Why should Eddie give a shit what his mom thinks?

“Do you think I’d get murdered if I took my bike to your place?” Sonia’s window was overlooking where Eddie’s car was normally parked. She’d see the lights for sure, and wake up in a panic.

“I can come with my car. I'll stay at the stop sign down the street.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Get here safe.”

“I will... Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

[tailsbeth-writes]

Always the Sidekick - Prose

I wrote this piece for a genre fiction class at university, it’s a romantic short story. It’s one of the few stories I’m actually quite happy with and might even consider continuing.

Word Count: 2609.

The park had well and truly taken autumn in. Across the wet grass, lay leaves in shades of brown and yellow. The smell of pumpkin spice lattes was in the air, it really was the best time of year. Today my wellington boots had been taken on their first outing; their traditional green didn’t particularly coordinate with my red rain mac. However, I could not care less as my appearance was not my speciality. With my mousy brown hair complete with blunt fringe to my milk bottle glasses, I was not what you’d call typically attractive. I was content with my lot though, as long as I could get to my favourite bench with a notebook and pen, I was happy.

It was the best spot for people watching, it was right in the middle of the park. To your left was a large pond where children would attempt to feed swans and nearly kill them and to your right were the multi-courts where men would make fools of themselves on a daily basis in an attempt to woo the opposite sex, usually with dire results. I sat there for my lunch hour and marvelled at the awesomeness of humanity before my best friend Jenny arrived. I love her to pieces but thanks to her gorgeous good looks, my favourite bench became the viewpoint of frenzy for the sporting lads. She walked up in high heeled boots, a black tulip skirt which extenuated her curves precisely and a white chiffon blouse that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The cherry on top of it all was her blonde wavy hair which bounced lightly with every step.

‘April darling, how are we today?’ I loved the way Jenny spoke, so silly yet sophisticated.

‘I’m pretty excellent, how are you?’

‘So tired, rushed off my feet as usual. Glad to get a break.’

‘I just don’t know how you manage it, I wouldn’t dream of such a busy job.’

‘Well, April my dear, not all of us are content with spending our days in a library.’ Despite Jenny and I being the same age, she’s always spoke down to me a little. I never cared what she said about my job though, I loved it. Her job sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, she worked at a law firm which meant she was always busy and always had to look her best. ‘It’s all about reputation’ Jenny told me time and time again. Whereas at my work, I spent hours sorting out books full of magic and romance, I wore whatever I pleased and I got a full hour for lunch. With those stats, I’d never see the appeal of Jenny’s job.

‘What’s for lunch today then?’ Jenny enquired as usual, looking for the plastic lunchbox.

‘Roast chicken sandwich, last night’s leftovers.’ I handed it over to a starved Jenny.

‘Oh you treat me so well April!’ She declared before she took a huge bite out of the sandwich. From the size of her waist, you’d never guess Jenny had a massive appetite.

‘Are we still doing dinner tomorrow night?’ She asked between bites. Fridays were probably my favourite day. I had a half day at work, I’d pick up sushi as a treat on the way home and then I’d settle down to a good book or a Netflix marathon for the afternoon. The nights were usually planned by Jenny, with her job she managed to blag us theatre ticket most weeks. However, this dinner wasn’t one of our usual Friday nights. It was a set-up, a casual reminder that I was still single and apparently needed to find a boyfriend.

‘Was that tomorrow night? I forgot about that. I might actually be working.’

‘You’re kidding me right? Remember tick tock, you’re not getting any younger pumpkin.’

‘Thanks for that gentle reminder Jen, you aren’t ei-‘

‘April Louise Hollander, you are going to eat dinner with me and some lovely male company whether you like it or not! Trust me; I’m doing it for your own good. Also it’s a work thing, you’d be the bestest for coming.’ I knew there would be some form of blackmail; I was always the sidekick to her little plans.

‘As I’ve told you time and time ag-‘

‘April, just be there.’ She interrupts again. I’ve not paid much attention but she’s finished her sandwich and brushed off the crumbs. I didn’t even bother trying to reply this time.

‘I better get back to the office; they’ll be lost without me. Remember 7 o’clock tomorrow at that fancy Italian place, wear something nice. Ciao darling!’ And with that she marched off on her heels, already screaming orders down the phone.  I had been looking forward to Friday, I was going to marathon Breaking Bad. Now I’d spend the afternoon trolling my wardrobe. Help.

Friday mornings at the library were always fun. A couple of classes from the local primary school would come in and if there wasn’t much work to do I got to help out with the kids. They reminded me of myself at that age, always raring to start a new book. I brought out a table full of new books and they cheered as they scrambled to find the best choice. Their adorable little smiles were enough to make my day. On the other hand, on my bus home I saw a bunch of students glued to their phones and tablets. I understood you could read books on those too but the majority of them were playing addictive games or swiping through possible mates like baboons. What happens to us as we grow up? Does the world of fiction lose its appeal to jabbing away at a piece of plastic and metal? I got off my usual stop and walked a few metres down the road to pick up my Japanese feast of sushi and bubble tea.

My flat was in the building next door, on the third floor. It was small and cosy, ideal for me and my pet fish Oscar, named after Mr Wilde of course. Normally I’d have got straight into my pyjamas, unluckily I had to choose a suitable outfit for Jenny’s high standards. Queue a clichéd montage of chucking clothes around my bedroom. Fashion was never my thing; I was about comfort and practicality not designer labels. I reckoned simple and elegant-ish was my best bet. As I turned to the mirror, I imagined an eagle-eyed Jenny staring back at me.

‘Are you really going to wear that tonight? Why do you even own that?’

‘I don’t actually care Jenny.’

‘Well you obviously care my dear; otherwise you wouldn’t be imagining me in your mirror now, would you?’ I let a little frustrated scream out. Imaginary or not, Jenny did have a point though. I did care. I’ve seen the looks of disgust that Jenny’s colleagues give me when I turn up to a champagne party in my doc martens and no make-up. This time it was almost like a date, she’d mentioned male company. I hadn’t had a boyfriend since university, three years ago. I genuinely did want to try, while I had Hermione’s smarts, I unfortunately didn’t have Emma Watson’s good looks. Tonight was going to be different; I ran out to Primark and bought a little black dress. I braved my contact lenses and risked burning my hair with my straighteners. Make-up wasn’t my best friend, but I tried my hardest to not make it look like war paint. I, of course, made a few April-esque touches, a deathly hallows necklace and forest green brogues. It might have just been a dinner date but as I gazed in the mirror, I could have been ready for a ball.

I definitely preferred London at night time. The twinkling street lights bounced off the reflective skyscrapers that melted into the indigo sky. My taxi driver wasn’t very chatty which I was thankful for tonight. My mind was too busy buzzing with expectations to talk about the weather.  Jenny would giggle like a school girl over her carbonara at the dashing gentleman opposite her. Meanwhile I’d be enthralled in conversation with a boyishly handsome chap who happens to have a passion for Doctor Who. As I dissolved into my day dreams, I barely noticed the taxi screeching to a halt. Jenny practically pounced on me as I stumbled out the cab into the nippy air.

‘April, my darling, you’re a new woman! Where’s the milk bottles? And are you wearing make-up? I love, love, love it!’ She was grinning from ear to ear at my apparent transformation.

‘Aw, you’re very sweet.’ I felt my cheeks redden as she spoke.

‘I wish you dressed like this more often, speaking of which, where is this delight of a dress from? I never knew you owned such a thing.’

‘Primark, only a tenner actually!’ Jenny’s face dropped in repulsion, the idea of being seen dead in anything less than £50 freaked her out. Her grin returned as she took in my whole look once more.

‘Not my usual taste, but you work it.’

‘You sure I look alright? I’m way out my comfort zone here.’

‘Of course you look alright, more than alright! Do you not think you look fab?’ I had to agree with Jenny. I’d gone through my Cinderella transformation from drab to fab except my fairy godmother came in the form of Primark and YouTube tutorials. I gave her a courageous smile.

‘God damn it, I do look fab Jenny.’

‘Great, glad we can agree on that. The boys said they’re going to be a tad late unfortunately so we’ve just to head inside.’

‘Okay, after you.’ I followed Jenny’s lead. After all the commotion of my new look, I hadn’t taken in Jenny’s outfit for the night. Her hair sat in a subtle up do and a creamy fur shawl sprawled over her shoulders. Her dress was a figure hugging scarlet number, which finished just after the knees and her shoes were a classic pair of black heels. As usual, Jenny looked like an absolute bombshell. I felt rather lucky to be friends with someone so glamourous.

As soon as the restaurant door opened we caught the smell of the incredible menu. Chatter surrounded every table. The place was packed. It was a Friday night in London after all. Everything appeared to be draped in white; the tables, chairs and even the walls. Spaghetti Bolognese was off the menu for me then. We got seated straight away as we had reservations. Jenny briefed me on tonight’s mission; we had to show the representative from this company a good time essentially. He was bringing along an intern which is where I came in, I was the distraction while Jenny spoke business. Whilst this was technically work for Jenny, we agreed we were going to have a good time ourselves. Therefore the first order of the night was cocktails. Our waitress brought over two martinis and we clinked our glasses together.

‘Do you feel like you’re in Sex and the City right now?’ Jenny giggled.

‘You took the words right out my mouth.’

‘I think we could give Carrie and the girls a run for their money frankly.’ We chuckled as sophisticatedly as we could. A joint this fancy didn’t feel like it welcomed belly laughs.

‘Excuse me ladies, I do believe you’ve been waiting for us.’ We looked up from our drinks to see our delicious male company had arrived. Jenny got up to shake their hands.

‘You must be Michael? So nice to finally meet you. This is my friend April.’ Michael stretched a freshly tanned hand over to me, his chocolate coloured eyes slithering into mine. Behind him stood a tall redhead who smiled delicately at us.

‘Nice to meet you girls, this is Eric.’ Eric tottered over and shook our hands. His hands were slightly clammy, nerves were tugging at him.

‘Great to meet you both.’ I drank in his polite expression, it was very welcoming. We all took our seats, Eric sat to my left. His navy cord blazer grazed my skin as it fell on his chair.

‘What are we drinking ladies?’ Michael enquired. Every word was like silky caramel; Jenny stuck to every syllable while it was far too sickly for me.

‘Martinis, we can move onto a bottle of wine if you’d prefer.’ Jenny had to vaguely remind herself this was a professional dinner. Michael had other plans.

‘Of course no, martinis it is! Waiter!’ He glanced around and waved his hand in the air, Eric stared at his lap. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. A baffled waitress finally came over.

‘Six martinis please!’ Michael demanded.

‘Why six?’ Eric innocently asked.

‘We’ve got catching up to do! It’s Friday night after all!’

‘Christopher Eccleston’s your favourite doctor? Really?’

‘Yup!’

‘Wow, very controversial.’ I sipped my third martini, never losing grip with Eric’s bubblegum blue eyes. They made my insides feel cosy. That could have also been the alcohol. Jenny had gone to sit at the bar with Michael to have shop talk. Her legs stretched in front of the bar stool to keep Michael at a safe distance. She’d got over his caramel tones and was getting to work.

‘So how long have you known Jenny? I wouldn’t say you’re typically matched.’ I rolled my eyes at the world’s most frequently asked question.

‘Most people think the same. We’ve been inseparable since primary school, she shared her dolls with me when nobody else would. I don’t think she quite realised what she’d got into. We’ve been through semesters abroad with nothing but letters to each other and we’re still going. I know she comes across as ridiculous most of the time but that’s part of the magic of Jenny. It’s just kind of amazing that over ten years later, we still meet at a park bench every day for lunch and it’s not boring yet. God, sorry, I’m babbling now!’

‘Nah, don’t worry about it. I think you two are sweet. A bit mad but sweet.’ I looked down at my drink, my cheeks felt rosy. Sensing my awkwardness, he changed subject.

‘Do you have a favourite park bench in mind? I’m a bit of a people watching enthusiast myself.’ My mouth may have gawped open a little. It was like someone had taken my day dreams and moulded them into my perfect man.

‘Seriously? People watching is my favourite thing ever. You know Waverly Park, how the path cuts right through the middle? The bench right next to the pond and multi-courts.’

‘I don’t think I’ve been there, I’ll need to check it out sometime. If you’d let me of course.’

‘Suppose, but I’ll have to share between the hours of 12 and 1 on weekdays.’

‘Those terms are fair enough.’ His endearing gaze turned me to jelly. His movements were careful, his long fingers ever so slightly rubbed up against mine on the table. He picked up my pendant and edged a smile.

‘Harry Potter fan?’

‘Yeah. I must seem like a massive geek with this thing on.’ I mustered hesitantly.

‘Oh really?’ He smirked and got something out of his coat pocket, a wallet with the Hogwarts crest on it. I let out a slight gasp. Eric laughed lightly at my shock. He placed the tattered wallet back in his coat.

‘Massive geeks should stick together, well I think so anyway.’ He declared. Before I even realised, the space between us was gone as he kissed me gently.

‘I could not agree more.’

[aexiah]

I Got Kicked Out of Home

I got kicked out of home, and started living by myself.

Who out there has the same story?

Something similar? Maybe you’ve done better than what I have, or maybe I’m the lucky one?

It started out with a bad relationship…With my parents. What? Did you think I was going to say something like a spouse? No, unfortunately I’m single and clueless.

But surely though, even this is a common story that a lot of us can share, right? But you’re here, reading this, or maybe you left already because you might have the same attention span that I have. None.

My mom and I are the same. We want to be in control, in a way to make this understandable, the house wasn’t big enough for the two of us.

I hated my mom for not letting me do what I wanted. But it’s not her fault that I wouldn’t tell her what I wanted so she decided for me.

I never told her what I wanted because I knew she wouldn’t like it, so I never told her. Hm. Well it’s not all her fault. I don’t want to tell you either because even when I was a kid in middle school I knew what I wanted wouldn’t feed me.

I just wanted to do art. I wanted to make comics. I had been doing that while being in school, thank you short attention span that made me bored in class and then made me draw in the middle of class and teachers not liking it and then telling my parents about it.

It happened so often that the fear dug into me and lodged in there to a point where it forced me not to be happy.

I fall asleep while drawing a lot, whenever I want to doodle the art block kicks in, and I think it’s the fear that was preventing me from drawing. This fear where I’ll have some trouble or I’ll have no time, or I need to get something done or else it’s going to bite me in the ass.

Of course, that’s just a subconscious thing on my part, I’d need a second opinion to tell me other wise and say straight to my face that I’m crazy or stupid.

So, I left Florida where I was living with my mom at the time after we had a fight and she made me get down on my knees a swear to God to never draw again. Right after I took a shower and hadn’t put on any cloths.

For real that happened. And she wonders why I don’t want to live with her. As of now I do believe that was a good 5… uh… yeah 5 years ago.

So, then after that I lived with my dad. He and I didn’t get along either. So much so that I wished he was dead.

I still do.

You see, he re married to a shit woman who doesn’t like people like my sister. What’s wrong with my sister? She has down syndrome. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Honestly, I can’t explain to you how I feel.

I admit, not even I am too nice towards my sister. She has a tendency to grind her teeth and steals money from whoever, and you see I am younger than her, so being a kid who has others taking their things makes for a very unkind person.

 I should know better? Fuck you, I was a kid. Do I know better now? Fuck you again, duh I already know better. Fuck the ones who judged me and didn’t live in my shoes to understand.

When she would grind her teeth, it lights the fire of my imagination where I could see the shards of her teeth shaving off coating her mouth, and she ends up swallowing it and choking on it and we’re the dumb fucks (me, my dad, mom, ad step mom.) who let it happen.

Every time she grinds her teeth I’d tell, then I’d yell, then I’d confront her, to STOP GRINDING YOUR TEETH. Understand this, she doesn’t do it in her sleep, miraculously, she does it CONSTANTLY AS IF SHE BREATHS while she’s wide awake.

Sometimes in the middle she would call me a bitch, and mumble things I know I wouldn’t be happy to hear.

What? Just tell her to stop grinding and tell her why she would stop? Oh my God. Shut the fuck up, again, you’re not living in my shoes.

I say it to her face 5 or more times a month. And while I’m at home 25 or more times a day from my room.

Send her to a group home? Tell that to my dad. I don’t have fucking custody over my older sister. Neither does my mom after their divorce.

Not one thing is easy about the situation where I wish I had a damn gun and point it to my dad’s head and make him listen to me for once.

 So, where is this going with my step mom you might ask? She’s mean right, I already told you.

No, she never laid a finger on her. As far as I know it at least. She probably won’t as long as I’m around. But I’m not around anymore because my dad kicked me out.

Actually, the situation was more like “you’re fired but you can’t fire me cuz I quit” scenarios.

It was her tone with my sister that I couldn’t stand,

You don’t need to imagine this, you need only to feel it. Not once has this woman ever smiled because of my sister. There will never be words (in English) in front of me nor my dad to ever be said to describe how she looks at my sister. Like an eye sore. I wonder if we have slang in Vietnamese for that.

Say it to her face? Confront her and tell her to be nice to my sister for once?

She’ll just say “I’m only trying to take care of her, I’m not bullying her” And wouldn’t you know it, she’d be right. She only tells her to take a shower, brush her teeth, and change her cloths to remind her to not be a slob.

So why does it annoy me? Why is it that every day she says these things to her she would be the one in the right, and I’m in the wrong where I just tell her to sop grinding her teeth?

She’s not our mom. Typical rebellious stand point.

But then she’ll say, I’m the nice one here, not YOUR mom, she’s the one who didn’t want to take care of her.

Understand this. My sister has the right to choose which parent to go to. And she chose our stupid mother fucking dad.

My dad, KNOWS this.

 So this is where we can start. Mind you though this is actually MINOR to the reason why I’m not under the same roof as them.

I have a baby half-brother. Love him to death, cute as… Fuck.

Guess who gets spoiled treatment? What, you think I blame him? No. I don’t blame him. I mentioned he’s spoiled because he has a Nanny. Who also, does not care for people like my sister.

I don’t want to get into details and the small nitpicky triggering things that made me dislike this woman, so let’s just skip to the point where she mistreats my sister. Nah, she didn’t hit her or anything.

I was trying to finish an assignment this particular day, and my sister is a night owl and she wakes up in and out through her days and nights. She was dead asleep.

The nanny kept calling out to her to come eat, which is nice of her, but since my sister was DEAD ASLEEP so she didn’t respond.

So, like the British guy said when and unconscious person is unconscious, they DON’T FUCKING WANT THE TEA.

So I got up as patient as I could be, and told her to let her sleep. I said in Vietnamese too, I may have an accent but it doesn’t mean you didn’t understand me.

She told me “I was just trying to make her eat.” Which isn’t really her responsibility, according to my dad.

While thinking “NAW YOU DON’T SAY??? AS IF I COULDN’T FIGURE THAT OUT WITH YOU SAYING IT 10 TIMES AT VOLUME 20”, I told her “Okay, but SHE’S SLEEPING.” I even had to gesture what SLEEPING meant as if she was elementary kid. Surely, she wasn’t language-barrier challenged enough to not understand that.

I went to the kitchen table to put up of the food to indicate that she doesn’t need to try to feed her right now, so I’ll just put it away in the fridge because I can see you’re not understanding this concept of one should not try to give an unconscious person TEA.

Please understand, I’m using this tea thing as reference here alright?

So I got the food off the table and I see two ordinary pieces of bread and two bologna patties with a plastic still on. I squinted my eyes at it, and thought “what the fuck??”  But hey, my sister isn’t dumb, the plastic she can take off on her own.

 The sandwich was sitting on a plate on top of a bowl, I looked in the bowl and saw that it was a bowl of melted frozen yogurt. (I made it and forgot to put it back in the freezer apparently, which is still kind of weird to me because I thought for sure I put it away, but honestly can’t prove it.)

One look at it and you could see that it was something not even the sleaziest crappy cook on the show from kitchen nightmares would serve.

You know what frozen yogurt melted looks like right? All the fruit mashed up floats on top of thick pink water. Well it’s usually pink.

Well, maybe the nanny is a shitty cook? That’s just the way she does it and she doesn’t think anything is wrong?

If we didn’t have the nanny in the house, I would have succumbed to the disgusting shit food my step mother made us eat. I’m saying the nanny is a good cook.

So where did I take it after this?

She got on the list. The list of people I want to disappear from my presence.

Dead? No, I don’t want her dead, I just wanted her out, and away from me, my sister and my family. Maybe with a scrape on her knee or a bad bump in the elbow where the funny bone is, or having a bunch of mosquito bites.

She’s a live-in Nanny. Fuck me, right?

She understands currently that I hate her.

Now let’s get on to the point where I get kicked out.

Two days earlier I was so busy with assignments and work that by the time I got home I didn’t eat dinner, I just dropped dead to sleep at 7 and didn’t wake up until 10 am in the morning.

I have 10 hour job so it was just another long shift…  After work during that time, I tried to eat dinner, we had left-overs during that time from the night I didn’t eat, so I wanted to be polite and tried to eat what missed. While everyone else was just eating something new.

There was a hair in it. Gordon Ramsay would have vomited for hours. (it looked like pubic hair) (did I just TMI you?)

I stopped eating after the second bite because if you guessed it I pulled it from my mouth. My step mom has straight hair, and the nanny had curly hair. And if anyone out there has pubic or… you know what never mind, no references here because I can’t tell you if all pubic hair is curly or not, so I straight up thought it was the Nanny’s.

There was no petty malice here when I say this. By the next night I was offered dinner, and sarcastically I said “there’s no hair in right?” because I don’t like the nanny.

My step mom took it as insult towards her. (Because she partially cooks with the Nanny.)

When will I ever learn that Vietnamese people don’t have sense of humor? Specifically, old Vietnamese women?

I’m Vietnamese by the way. And female.

So, the final night, after a hounding day at work, my eye was getting prodded by an un reachable eyelash and my back was killing me. I think I also had a headache.

I was offered dinner once again before going to the bathroom and I said “There’s no hair in it right?” after looking at the dinner table and the nanny was sitting there. On her best behavior, I might add.

And step mom was offended.

My sister was at the dinner table and they all went and ate while I tried to fish out the eyelash. In the bathroom.

I could hear my dad because… it a small house and Vietnamese people talk rather loudly, telling my sister to, “always change her clothes, and brush and shower.”

Which I didn’t care for. The step mom in her usual tone of voice that makes you understand that she’s not fond my sister agreed with my dad.

I didn’t say anything after that because I already said she would just be all like “I’m only taking care of her I’m not bullying her, why you up in my grill??”

The Nanny also agreed, saying “yeah” at the same time as my step mom.

 And my mind tripped and I yelled from the bathroom door “Just let her eat, OH MY GOD”

Because I was sick and tired of them saying this shit every day and that the nanny was crossing boundaries.

I decided not to eat after that because my headache was getting worse and the eyelash was too far in for me to reach, I walked into the kitchen to get my purse so I could lay in my room.

But then my dad and step mom confronted me about my behavior and said I was being “mean”.

To sum up sentences;

“how do you know when YOU cook you don’t have hair in your food?”

“we were only joking, I was only kidding we weren’t bullying you sister”

“YOU’RE so mean” (step mom’s limited engrish)

BLAH BLAH BLAH.

It was also those situations where in a fight, the other party tries their hardest to NOT let you talk, despite demanding answers from you. You know, you’ve had those fights before, right? You probably even started one. No? Well alright then let’s move on.

So, at this point, I was off my rocker. I got my purse and tried to leave, because the situation got petty and I could see that no matter how many times I tried to indicate... Oh right, by the way I tried to say that I wasn’t blaming them for anything I was mostly blaming the nanny. I didn’t think they were bullying my sister I just wanted them to shut the fuck up, and the Nanny to keep her shit mouth to herself. Yeah, I’m not nice. Wow, I really don’t like outsiders in my family. So anyway, I tried to leave because it got petty and it was 2 against one. Next thing you know, my dad yelled “no, we’re not done here”

And I yelled back at him because well, fights make people upset, and fuck you work was exhausting and bitches in the house all mixed into one mother fucking bowl. “NO, WE’RE DONE!“

The moment I yelled back at him, he threw a water bottle at me, and came at me.

And well, this is basically the dialogue in script form.

Me: DON’T TOUCH ME I’LL CALL THE POLICE

Dad: *pushes me* TRY IT, FUCKING TRY IT

Me: DON’T TOUCH ME

Dad: *pushes me* GET OUT OF MY HOUSE

Me: FINE, I’M LEAVING, DON’T TOUCH ME

Dad:*pushes me* GET OUT OF MY HOUSE

Me: DON’T TOUCH ME

Dad:*pushes me* GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE

Me: I’M ALREADY LEAVING, DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME.

 And I get kicked out. I already said it was a you can’t fire me because I quit things.

I’m still pretty angry about it. Like as of now as I’m writing about this.

Ayyy nobody got hurt this time. How nice.

I stayed at a hotel near work afterwards. I found a place within hours but I didn’t move in until 2 days later.

I still worked the next day, because I’m a dedicated idiot who doesn’t like work but has this strong feeling that I have to.

I took on a lot onto my plate. I ended up going to school, working full time and moving at the same time. I haven’t been this tired since riding 6 airplanes in less than a week because of family business.

So yeah, there’s a lot of issues here. So many issues that maybe there no remedy for it. Or maybe I’m really the problem here huh? My unforgiving nature and stubbornness got me into this whole mess.

 I consider a lot to be a mess right now, but I also think this is better. Moving out is just what I needed along time ago. Its just to bad it had to go that way. Though the only thing I regret right now is not being able to sabotage them (not my sister or brother specifically dad step mom and the nanny). Oh, how I wished to sabotage them.

Sigh.

I acted quickly, during the second day before moving in I airbnb’d in a nearby area from where I worked. It was funny because I only planned to use it for a vacation I was thinking on doing, but since the situation happened it was canceled, and yet I got a nine hour vacation at a nice cottage.

I stayed in the cottage while signing contracts to seal the deal on the new apartment which I will not recommend to anybody because it generally sucks. Got like 3 insurances and my name printed in black for people of Austin.

Hey hi how ya doin?

When I told other people about it I only ended up getting annoying reactions where; “why didn’t you get something cheaper?”

“why didn’t you get one that was furnished”

“why didn’t you just bunk with a friend”

Why this, why that…

My only thing to tell you is “I WAS IN A POSITION WHERE I DIDN’T GIVE A FUCK, THAT’S WHY.”

Being kicked out is a common story, but the emotions that go behind it, is no joke.

The apartment thing was something I was already planning, but I was planning on doing it in secret. This situation happened, so the plan went ahead of schedule, and not the way I wanted it.

It was all meant to be.

 So what’s the rest of the story here? If anyone is still reading? Any questions or tips that people should know about?

When getting an apartment with the expected price that you got on the internet, assume they’ll charge you 200 or 300 more, if you have a car.

At the time with my emotions in disarray, I said yes to anything, so I ended up with a bad apartment. So if you can get yourself to be at a moderate mood, don’t get an apartment that have the stove next to a wall, and the bathroom has a closet where it’s a sliding door mirror and the mirror is there and the door can backhand smash it.

Asian brooms are the best.

Swiffer is nice.

Steal shit form your parents. If you got a bad wrap with them, take one shoe from their favorite pair and hide it. Maybe not hide it just in a place where its questionably 25 feet away.

If they got a Bluetooth car, disconnect their phone from them once you find their key.

If there’s a clean sink, put a super dirty dish in it… Ahhh, I was never this mischievous before.

Alright time to conclude this:

I recommend reading this helpful article that I read 2 years before this whole incident, and took it into consideration, then remembered it in my time of need.

http://thriftytricks.com/moving-out-for-the-first-time/

I also recommend the list pdf this person provided.

This may not be the best advice but take it into consideration and decide for yourself.

I didn’t leave just because of that night of being kicked out into the stormy heavy rain (I’m laughing right now but I’m not exaggerating, after I got kicked out it was already bad weather, and the roads were flooding. Typing this up a month later thinking back, that, even though I skidded a lot and almost crashed and died. Driving in the rain with emotion stirred can do that.) I left mostly because I didn’t want to be hurt anymore. Mentally and physically. Especially physically.

Understand this, my family and me always had bad blood. Instead of moving out, I could have just camped out at work and comeback to the house after a short while, and forget the whole thing happened.

You walk into a room where everybody was talking, then they become silent? Tells you a lot.

When something happens and they blame you for it, even if it wasn’t your fault, what does that tell you? You speak, but no one listens. Honestly, I was used to it. I could sigh over the annoyance and just wait out the grief till the next day.

It’s all very small things, so little that it’s not drastic enough to make a person move out.

But we don’t stay young forever. The chances we missed won’t stay either. I had to put up with that nonsense since I was 18, I’m 24 now and that I left a month ago.

I might not know what I’m doing, but its better I’ve ever felt in a long time.

The only issue I’m facing now is that I don’t really have a plan… I am constantly thinking, trying to keep my body afloat, I would say head, but I’m not there yet.

I’m not a guru for shit, but I do think that if you have a relationship that you KNOW can’t mend, don’t stick around. If there’s no one who appreciates you for anything that you do, and don’t even give back or apologize for what wrong they did to you (or turn it around and blame their faults on you) just leave. You don’t have to leave the house like I did, but have self-respect and live for you.